#still how does he still reside in the us? i can only assume that he went on a student visa originally. hasn't that expired.

[aromanticgarbage]

Thinking about that silly i hate foreigners 2012 filthy frank video and the fact that Joji literally pulled out his government approved passport for a stupid two minutes long comedy skit.

[girlbeyondthegrave]

THINGS I NOTICED WHILE WATCHING BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE AGAIN:

This is a very Beetlebabes-centric post, so if you don’t like the ship, please feel free to scroll away. <3

Beetlejuice cut Delores’ ring finger off, and while it was originally a fun joke in the first movie, there’s deep implications about that action when we look at it with the context of the second film. Beetlejuice attacked her after she betrayed him. Anyone would want to kill the person that poisoned them, but the fact that he took the time to find her finger and deliberately cut her ring finger off (and ONLY that finger) reflects how much that marriage meant to him. It also symbolizes that he’s effectively dissolving their marriage. He’s cut off the physical representation of their love and taken the ring, which he tries to give to Lydia hundreds of years later. He held onto that ring for centuries in hopes of finding someone he deemed worthy of it.

He calls his dynamic with Lydia a long-distance relationship, which could’ve been a throwaway joke if not for the fact that when he clearly notices how hot Janet is, he never talks to her or gropes her like he did with Barbara prior to meeting Lydia. Keaton said BJ wouldn’t be politically correct, so this isn’t to reflect the current political climate, but rather to reflect BJ’s motivations.

Beetlejuice was jobless at the start of the first movie, and in thirty years he’s built a company for his bio-exorcisms. Coupled with the picture of Lydia on his desk, it’s possible he did this to impress her. After all, she’s famous and rich now. BJ’s gotta step it up, y’know?

Probably overheard the convo between Lydia and Rory and deliberately bugged her at that time, because if he can possess the phone or whatever, he can probably use it to eavesdrop. This can be further supported by how he got rid of the influencers but kept the people that mattered to Lydia present—Delia and Astrid.

We can also assume he overheard the conversation where Lydia said that Rory loves her and that has to be enough because of the panning to a gravestone. BJ has a special fascination with graveyards, even tiny model ones. If he did overhear them, it explains why he used the truth serum on Rory. He’s testing him. He wants to see if this guy actually loves Lydia or if he’s using her, and then he gives Lydia the means to exact revenge on Rory rather than doing anything himself.

Lydia spends half the movie being strong -armed into a marriage with Rory, and in a way, it’s reminiscent of the first movie’s marriage attempt. Rory dangles their “love” in front of her like a carrot, and if she doesn’t want to be alone, she has to accept his manipulation and agree to get married. Yet she immediately offers it to Beetlejuice, only sounding annoyed rather than terrified. And the movie spends a lot of time proving that BJ has sincere motives this time around, whereas Rory doesn’t. It pushes an underlying message that if one of these guys is going to be a better choice, it’ll be BJ.

Despite Lydia having a tendency to back out of their deals, he still helps her first. He prioritizes saving Astrid even before finding his “runaway bride” again.

Casually calls Lydia the love of his life, looks so sincere when he says he’ll make her so happy. Clearly spent those 30 years planning that dream-dance sequence.

He doesn’t seem to care that Lydia’s sending him away. That coupled with the end scene illustrates how confident he is this time around. Lydia is still stuck with him, and even if he didn’t get her this time, he will eventually. But he also knows how spooked she is by marriage after being a snoop, so it’s possible that he’s just taking it slow on purpose.

In conclusion: Beetlejuice genuinely does want to be with Lydia and care about her. His feelings have evolved beyond permanent residence in the mortal world. If anything, if he still wants that, it’s so he can be by her side.

[corrodedbisexual]

@waning-croissant well... I had to.

"Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero," Eddie talks as he keeps walking, a step ahead of Steve. "I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."

Eddie's not even sure what he's saying anymore, he just knows that if he doesn't keep talking over the nightmarish ambience of this hellscape, he might actually go insane. Hearing his own voice, he can at least pretend like he's just narrating a game, and the rest is his overactive imagination. Not that he actually believes that, of course, it's just... irrationally comforting.

"Give yourself a break, man."

Steve reaches for him, but Eddie's body reacts on autopilot to an unexpected touch, practically slapping the boy's arm away. He's on a roll here, words still spilling right over the all-too-late pang of regret in his chest. It would have been nice to experience, that pat on the chest or squeeze on the shoulder, whatever Steve was going for, if it weren't for Eddie's perpetual skittishness.

"See? The only reason—"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"—I came in here was 'cause—"

"Eddie!"

Eddie's head snaps to Steve as he cuts off the rest of his semi-planned speech, which was suddenly inspired by the sight of Nancy Wheeler ahead of them. If he was the cowardly bard in the story, the least he could be useful for is cheer on the real hero of it. Give the courageous bat-biting paladin the motivation to keep fighting.

"Huh?"

"Do you ever stop running your mouth and listen?" Steve's brows are furrowed, but his tone isn't mean, and there's an amused smile playing on his lips. "You're almost worse than Dustin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie opens his mouth, lets his jaw hang for a second, and closes it again with a click of the teeth, as he processes the words he would have perceived as an insult, had he not been piecing together what the kid meant to Steve for the past several days. It was a bit of a revelation that their relationship ran far deeper than just some giant one-sided platonic crush on Dustin's part, like Eddie had mistakenly assumed throughout most of this year.

Steve takes a small step closer, the first one to invade Eddie's personal space for once, after Eddie's been doing it for the better part of their walk together. Unconsciously, like his body just decided that being tucked into Steve meant safety from the bloodthirsty bats, and the creepy vines, and that Vecna guy they could run into any minute.

"We all ran, all four of us. Just now, when we saw that giant swarm of bats in the distance, remember?" Steve speaks softly, waving his arm vaguely in the direction behind them. "Because sometimes, running and surviving is the only thing you can do."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He just focuses on looking at the boy's eyes, like a normal person, and trying not stare at his lips moving. But then, when he pauses, Steve's eyes flicker down, and... huh. Huh. Wait, what?

"Of course you've been running. You couldn't have fought Vecna when he took Chrissy. Or Carver's crazy mob, or the entire police force of Hawkins," Steve keeps talking intently, looking into Eddie's eyes again like his gaze never wavered south. "Any more than we could fight that whole swarm. Because we'd definitely be dead now if we tried, no matter how metal you think I am," he adds with a tiny smug smile that's entirely Eddie's fault. "So there's a difference between being a coward, and acting stupid and reckless."

Steve pats his shoulder twice, then turns and keeps walking, and Eddie moves to follow him like on a tether, before his flustered brain even catches up.

"H-hey, I never said you were metal! I said what you did with that bat was metal," he grumbles, thankful for the darkness concealing his undoubtedly flushed face.

"I beg to differ," Steve turns around to tease, grinning, and pointedly tugs on his own collar. "You're the resident metalhead, and I'm wearing your vest, that does make me at least a little bit metal."

Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Harrington. Eddie's not sure what possessed him to throw that thing at the boy. At the time, he only thought of how he wouldn't survive the whole ordeal of Steve's hairy tits on display for much longer, but him in Eddie's clothes? Even worse.

"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, catching up to Steve in three quick strides. "Only a little bit though." He sneaks a glance at the boy; Steve's not looking back, once again on guard, surveying their surroundings with his flashlight, but the pleased smile makes its way to his face regardless.

"Doesn't matter why you jumped after us, Munson, you're here now. And don't try to act all modest when you've just saved a guy's ass. Which, by the way..." Steve turns his head to Eddie again. "Nice job with that oar. Too bad you hate jocks, you'd have made a fine hitter on the school baseball team."

Eddie gasps and grips his own chest in mock offense, even as warmth spreads up his neck and pools in the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden beneath his hair.

"How dare you, with these vile insinuations."

"I'm just saying," Steve shakes his head, laughing. "You're pretty... bat-ass, too, Eddie." He glances over again with a shit-eating grin. "Get it? Bat-ass?"

"Oh no, Steve Harrington is actually a dork with terrible puns," Eddie mumbles to himself and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the dark sky.

"Shut the fuck up, my puns are amazing." Steve elbows him in the ribs and chuckles. "You know what, I'm starting to understand why Henderson was obsessed with getting us to hang out."

What is that supposed to mean?

"He... he was?" Eddie gapes.

Another earthquake saves him from the mortifying ordeal of re-assessing the whole Munson doctrine, for the hundredth time this week. And as they hurry along to catch up with the girls, and Steve's hand grips his bicep whenever he falls behind, Eddie wonders if maybe he should just set fire to the doctrine and let it turn to ash.

[plumipal]

AAAAAOMG UR TWST OC IS SO ADORABLE?? i'm absolutely in love with eden sm (+ his design?? the star eyes and the wings are my favorite,, i wanna smooch all his tattoos!) and i hope it's okay to ask a few questions about him... (I KNOW U SAID IT WAS OKAY BUT I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE 😭 i'm genuinely interested in knowing more!)

1) does he have anyone in the twst cast that he tolerates/likes? i know he's part of the whole harem thing but is there anyone he doesn't necessarily mind being around (or even sharing with the prefect?)

2) do grim and eden have a good relationship? i would assume so since they're living both with one another but do they just get along with each other for the prefect's sake or are they actually best buds? (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

(little dumb idea but i think it would be so cute if the prefect treated the two as if they were all like a little family! eden and prefect being the two parents and grim their rambunctious kid lmao,, i would imagine the others not being so happy about it (っ‘ω`c))

3) is he okay with physical affection/pda? is he totally chill about it or would he rather shy about the whole thing? is he open to having the prefect touch his wings or his tattoos?

4) oooo any funfacts that you have about the new ramshackle resident?? just in general really if that's okay with u ofc!! ☆

aa okay that's it!! i hope my questions weren't annoying or anything! (っ‘ω`c)

Had to get one of those wheels ive seen going around where you put the oc and how they feel about the character and how the characters feel back about them, but with a twist lol (most of them are haters).

The ones he are most tolerant with are grim, ace, deuce, jack and kalim. Only one he could possible share with would either be kalim, jack or deuce, because of how he sorta is annoyed by ace.

Of course cant forget how he feels about you :) he thinks you are very very very special and he loves you a lot <3

He likes grim a lot, seeing as grim isn't one of the students that is oh so annoying. He warms up to the monster, seeing how gently you take care of grim, wanting to do the same. It feels, domestic, in his opinion.

Grim likes Eden a lot too, he has never belittled him, he has always made sure to feed grim along with Eden being very warm (and therefore very nice to sleep on). In grims opinion, he thinks you should go with Eden, cuz he is a good candidate for marriage (grim has been bribed with love, affection, and tuna).

He takes good care of the cat son, making sure he is healthy and happy.

Now onto pda. Eden are only okay with you touching the wings, the tattoo and the core, being as they are quite sensitive. The scar is still off limits, but maybe if you make him warm up to you even more you might be able to-

He loves when you help him with his wings, it's one of the best feelings out there. Fo mind that only you (and grim) can touch the wings, anyone else is off limits, ESPECIALLY ROOK HE IS FORBIDDEN TO TOUCH THEM.

Eden facts!! He has lil "ear-holes" like birds, just behind the feathers. Be careful around that part when you help him with his feathers, otherwise you might have a pouty and angry Eden on tour hands.

His eyes also glow in the dark! It's the scariest during the nightly snack runs down to the kitchen, seeing him suddenly stare at you, but you slowly get used to it!

You don't know where the extra eyes sometimes come from tho...

Also some general facts about Eden!

Dorm: Ramshackle

Birthday: 1/1

Age: ???

Height: 185cm

Fav subject: alchemy

Hobby: cleaning in ramshackle, birdwatching

Likes: you

Dislikes: Loud noises, blond 3rd year hunters named rook hunt, people trying to grab onto his wings that aren't you

Fav food: he don't need to eat to gain sustenance, bur he likes mashed potatoes with gravy

Least fav food: soup, any soup, he hates it

Btw if anyone were to write for Eden I would explode it would mean the world to me

[2ndkaiser]

could you do post crash reader relationship headcanons please. The reader is doing their best to keep him alive and is planning jimmys downfall and saving everyone in the tulpar crew and being ready to file a big lawsuit against pony express

𖦹 POST-CRASH CURLY X GN!READER ONESHOT

Of course I can. This prompt was fun to work with, hope this satisfies your request.

Word count: 990

Contains: Oneshot, angst with comfort, Curly x GN!reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence, Curly’s trauma

⟡ ݁₊ . Notes: Assumed that Curly is reader’s husband. Please message me if I left out any warnings.

BEYOND THE STARS, BENEATH THE LIES

The only sounds that seem to occupy the ship these days were the soft, robotic screeches coming from the doors. The Tulpar — where you once sat in the lounge with the crew, in front of the artificial sunset chatting away — now, devoid of that sense of familiarity.

Never would you expect this to happen. Never. Your husband, Captain Curly, crashed the ship? How could such a selfless man suddenly abandon everything he stood for and transform into the root of the threat to the whole crew? It didn’t add up a single bit.

Your feet carried you along the corridor, heels dragging across the cold floor beneath as you became lost in thought.

The same robotic sound of the door you started to feel sick of signaled the medbay’s door opening — opening to your sweet Curly. You weren’t even focused anymore, the only thing inhabiting your brain was Jimmy. It felt so off. He felt off.

A low cry escaped the teeth of the former captain in front of you, reminding what you initially came here for.

“Hey sweetheart,”

You knew he couldn’t respond, but that didn’t change anything. He was still Curly. The Curly you knew. The Curly who would never even think of committing such an act.

“How’re you holding up Curls?” You shot him a gentle smile, although you already knew it wasn’t near possible for him to ‘hold up well’.

It was evident his pain was heightened, judging by the wails he let out, it has been approximately 8 hours since he took painkillers, but in your presence his noises slowly died down into quiet whimpers.

“Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

It was a time-consuming task — gently pressing the painkiller down his throat, using water to help it go down, carefully removing the blood-soaked bandages and disinfecting each part of his body, replacing the bandages with tender precision, and making sure his eyes didn’t dry out. The shortage of bandages weighed on your mind, adding to the growing worry in your chest. The process usually took over an hour, and every movement had to be precise, every action gentle. But none of that mattered. You’d do anything — anything at all — to keep Curly alive.

Following the now-silent whimpers, you noticed that Jimmy was still residing in your head. His presence felt so off-putting. But you knew that Curly wanted Jimmy on this ship. That was what he stated. But at this moment, you couldn’t help but sense that your husband wanted the opposite of that right now.

You could see it. After Jimmy started to feed Curly his pills instead of Anya, you couldn’t help but notice how suppressed his cries had become — not to mention — the first time Jimmy fed him his painkillers, it sounded like Curly’s cries turned into loud weeps, pleading for mercy.

Seeing your husband in pain was unbearable.

“Curly, my love,”

Curly’s azure gaze which now appeared to be fading in colour due to the lack of eyelids, studied your expression.

In a hushed tone, you hesitantly asked, “Does Jimmy hurt you?”

His sapphire eyes stuttered then flickered left, it was the only way for you two to communicate right now, you established this method after acknowledging his inability to voice his thoughts, and this way he could ‘speak’ by moving the only part of his body he could: his eyes. Left signaled yes, right for no.

Yes. Yes you’re beloved Curly was being tormented. Yes you have failed to recognize Jimmy’s abusive behavior. Yes you have failed to protect him.

You couldn’t even pinpoint what you were feeling at that moment. Fury, regret, shame, sorrow — and the strongest of them all: guilt. Each emotion is blurry and indistinguishable from the others.

It felt like your brain was in a completely static state, unoccupied with thoughts, replaced with heightened emotions. How could this be?

You weren’t that ignorant, were you?

“I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry, Curly… I—” Your voice cracked, the weight of the words too much to bear. “I didn’t see it—didn’t understand until it was too late. I failed you. I failed us. I’m such a terrible person. I—” You gasped for breath, hands shaking as you gripped the edge of the bed, regret swimming in your irises. “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen…”

Your voice broke into a whisper, barely audible. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I wish I could undo everything. I wish everything was reversible.”

The cold metal edge of the bed rested against your forehead, as if it was attempting to cool your head. As your body was engulfed in a sickening feeling, the gentle touch of a brief graze caused you to jolt, lifting your face up to see your lover, aiming to nuzzle his face into your hair as a sign of forgiveness and longing. A tear streamed down his cheek which you could only imagine was stinging severely.

“Listen to me, honey, I swear I’ll get us to safety. I’ll figure this out, I promise. We’ll make it home—together. We’ll leave Jimmy behind, let the police deal with him. He won’t ever hurt you again. I won’t let him. I’ll make sure of it. You’re not alone in this. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll sue this goddamn company, get the money we need, and start fresh. A new life, far away from all of this. No one, not even that… that unhinged maniac, will be able to get to us. Not ever again. I swear on everything, Curls, I’ll protect you. We’ll make it through this, I promise, okay?”

Another whimper left his throat, only this time, the whimper was more of a hum. A hum of agreement and comfort — and with that, his eyes flickered left again.

Finally finished, hope this is up to standard for a one-shot. Genuinely, I don’t know if this was what you were looking for but I’m hoping it is. Apologies if it isn’t.

Sorry for inconsistent uploads, I’m most likely going to posting slowly for a few weeks since I’m not exactly the freest man. Farewell.

[subcultureblues]

Don't You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 2

———

Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

———

Dustin was criss cross on the couch the next day eating a rainbow of cereal and watching Saturday morning cartoons when he saw it.

“What’s that?” He said, taking the morning paper right out from under his mother’s nose.

“Dusty!” She chided, sitting up in her recliner. “I was just getting to my horoscope.”

“Sorry, mom.” He said distantly. He read over the ad again and his grew ear to ear. This was too perfect!

Eddie’s been too busy with his dumb girlfriend to hang out with them in forever.

Well, there might be no better way to reel him back in than a Creature from The Black Lagoon re-run. Ok, it was at the drive through a town over - but Eddie literally can’t say no! He loved classic horror (even after everything they’d seen in living color.)

Dustin kept the outer page and returned the rest.

“Thanks mom! Also, Cancer’s should keep an eye out for big opportunities on the horizon.” He yelled back over his shoulder as he ran over to the phone. He paused as listen to the line ring. “And let their kid go out with his friends tonight!”

“Now where does it say that…” His mom tutted, far too used to Dustin’s Dustining to be surprised by almost anything.

“Come on…” Dustin mumbled impatiently on the fifth or sixth ring.

“Wayne here.”

“Hi Mr. Munson! It’s Dustin Henderson, is Eddie there?”

“Eds, it’s for you.” Kind of surprising his uncle was up at this hour. Usually he was sleeping in to prepare for the next nightshift. Maybe he got the rare weekend off. Good for him.

“You’ve reached The Dark Lord Baelzabub’s office, can I take a message?”

“Eddie! Right! So!” Dustin ignored him, already shooting off at 60 miles an hour. “There’s this thing going on, it’s tonight - and I swear, your gonna be off the wall when you hear about it cause they never have good stuff on out here - “ Eddie cut him off.

“Woah, there. You said tonight? Cause no can do compadre.”

“But!” Dustin sputtered. “You’re not gonna wanna miss this Eddie I’m telling you.”

“Sorry, little man. Can we do uh, I could do tomorrow. Wait actually shit, not tomorrow.”

“No, we can’t - it’s only happening tonight, if you’ll just let me tell you what it - “

“Sorry, man. I’m not gonna make it. I’m uh, I’m -“ he sighed.

“Busy.” That fucking Judas…..

“Yeeeeah. Look Henderson, I’m sorry. I’ll catch the next one ok, man. I promise.“

“Right. Yeah.” Dustin wasn’t pouting. He wasn’t.

They didn’t stay on the line long. He sighed and glared at the phone. Fuck it, fuck Eddie - they were still going. And then next week at Hellfire when Eddie asked about they’re weekend they’ll tell him how awesome it was and how much fun they had without him. Then he’ll regret blowing Dustin off.

He picked up the phone again.

“Harrington residence.” Oh right, Steve’s alleged parents were in town.

“Uh, hi. It’s Dustin Henderson. Can I talk to Steve. Please.” He said, only just managing to remember his manners.

“Steve, honey, your little friends on the phone.” Mrs. Harrington said.

“Hey man, what’s up. Wait, I’m gonna stop you right now. No I can’t give you a ride.”

Dustin sputtered indignantly.

“What you just assume I only call you when I need a favor.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You just called to say hi.” Steve corrected himself. Then he paused, clearly waiting.

“Yeah.” Dustin huffed. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Steve repeated pleasantly.

“So uh, how’s uh, how the uh,” Dustin’s eyes darted around the room trying to latch onto something via image/word association. He made eye contact with the portrait of a calico tabby his mother had needle pointed into a throw pillow. “- your cat?”

“How’s your cat?” Steve shot back.

“Hey, woah, low blow!”

“So is this call a welfare check for my nonexistent cat or?”

“No! I, uh - your parents! They’re in town - “

“Dustin.”

“Well… - Look, ok so I thought wouldn’t Steve enjoy if we all went out tonight and - “

“And there it is. Look, I already got plans tonight: So...”

“You too?” Double Judas!

Steve had said all his weekend plans were canceled since his parents were at the house!

“Yeah, well, the plan changed.” Dustin was running out of chauffeurs…

After a minute of huffing, he called Will. At least he seemed properly enthusiastic.

“One thing though. How are we supposed get all the way out there?”

“You’re gonna get Jonathan to drive us.” Dustin said confidently. Will however, hesitated.

“I’m not sure. I think he said he was going on a date with Nancy tonight.”

“Seriously?” Dustin huffed. “Jesus Christ. Well, you’re gonna convince him then.”

“I dunno.”

“Come on, Will. We’re counting on you here. All our licensed friends have betrayed and abandoned us. You gotta come through on this.” Will didn’t say anything. “Just pull the kidnapped by monsters card! Right? Say the creature feature will be therapeutic, or something!”

“Fine. I’ll ask.” Will sighed.

Will could be convincing when he needed to be. Thing is, he didn’t even really have to try. It was those damned puppy dog eyes. That’s what got Dustin, Mike, and Will in the back seat of Jonathan’s Lincoln.

They invited Lucas but he couldn’t make it after coming down with a bad case of relatives-in-town. It turned out for the best considering Nancy was occupying the passenger seat. Looking beleaguered.

Jonathan found a spot with a decent view and put the vehicle in park. He looked over to his girlfriend with a forced optimism.

“See? Not so bad.”

Nancy smiled tightly, looking at the adolescents crammed into the back. Mike made a face at her, and because it was genetically hardwired into them both, she returned it.

“Uh huh. Romantic.” She said, turning around to watch the opening credits. Will had told Dustin they were on the rocks. He might even feel a little bit guilty for intruding on date night but they were short on options here.

“Can we get snacks?” Mike asked Jonathan.

“Uh, sure. We can go over there. Did your uh, parents give you money for snacks?” Jonathan said.

Dustin and Mike shook their heads.

“Oh uh…” Jonathan fumbled with his wallet, shifting around in the coin pouch. Will very quietly looked at his shoes. Mike seemed to notice because had opened his mouth like he was about to say something to him. But then after a pause, turned back to the front.

“Actually, Jonathan got us slushies last time.” Mike said loudly.

“And he gave us money for the arcade the other week.” Dustin said, picking up quickly.

“Yeah, it’s not his turn to pay.” Mike said.

Will’s seemed to relax a little, his shoulders becoming not so tightly hunched.

“Oh. Ok.” Jonathan said, obviously somewhat relieved himself.

“It’s your turn.” Mike said, kicking that back of Nancy’s chair.

“Excuse me?” She said, turning to glare at him.

“It’s your turn to pay for the snacks. Come on, you have a job.”

“I’m not your babysitter.” She rolled her eyes. She decisively turned her back to them again.

“We should have gone with Eddie.” Mike whispered.

“Yeah well he’s, busy.” Dustin whispered back, making air quote finger bunnies. “Besides, that guy barely has money for gas. Steve wouldn’t let us starve though.”

Mike huffed, rolling his eyes at the mere mention of the guy.

Dustin settled back into his seat, looking out the window at a couple passing their car on the way back from the concession stand. He could smell the popcorn in their bucket.

Wait a minute. Is that -

No fucking way. Speak of the devil, I guess…

Dustin peered across the rows and yup, that was Eddie’s van. Hard to mistake that piece of junk for anything else that passed for road legal.

“That fucking bastard!” Dustin whispered.

‘Busy.’ Right. Busy going out to see a movie - without Dustin!

And also the rest of the party.

“Hey where are you going?” Mike said, but Dustin was already out of the car.

Mike and Will scrambled to follow him.

“Wait, where are you guys- “ Jonathan’s reaction time was a bit slow.

“They’re fine.” Nancy said.

“Ok just don’t be gone too long.” Jonathan said, ineffectually.

“Where are we going?” Mike said.

“Look.” Dustin gestured at the van, positively aggrevied.

Dustin stomped over. He could see through the window from there. Nobody was even in the front. He ditched them to come see a movie he couldn’t be bother to actually watch. Now that really grinded his gears. It was with righteous fury he banged his fist against the side of the van.

Dustin cracked a satisfied smile when he heard a yelp and the metal sounds of someone banging around in the back.

“Watch this.” He whispered. Then he dropped his voice a few octaves and with an Oscar worthy Hopper Impersonation said, “This is the police. We know what you’ve been up to.”

Mike had to bury a snicker behind his hands.

“Hey man, I know my rights - “ Eddie cracked the back door, sticking his head out. His eyes grew very wide. “Oh you can not be fucking serious….?”

Dustin couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh man, your face!” All threes boys, even Will, were snickering. At least until they heard -

“Dustin?!” From behind Eddie came an unmistakably shrill voice, positively scandalized.

Eddie grimaced. He turned his head slowly to look back over his shoulder.

“Um. Yep. Dustin. And company.”

“What the - Is that Steve?” Mike said, rather scandalized himself.

Begrudgingly, Eddie let the door swing open, revealing Steve in the back of the van sitting on a mattress and a pile of blankets.

“What? Since when do you two hang out - !“ Mike sputtered, throwing his hands up like this was a most unforeseen betrayal.

Mike fully bought into Eddie’s hype. Which makes sense. Eddie was cool as hell. But much as Dustin’s tried to set him straight, Steve dated Mike’s sister. Those two forever were destined to be adversaries as far as he was concerned.

Steve kind of just thought Mike was a shithead.

Sure if you ask Mike, he considered Steve like ‘terminally uncool’, and that was a direct quote. Way too uncool to be friends with Eddie Munson of all people.

Dustin’s been trying to push this friendship for almost a year at this point, to absolutely no avail.

So. Actually Mike kinda had a point there.

“Yeah, since when do you two hang out -“

“We don’t!” Steve said quickly.

“- without us.” Dustin frowned.

“What are you guys doing all the way out here? Away from Hawkins. Like just, so far away from Hawkins.” Eddie said, smiling uncomfortably wide. His eyes were shifting warily between the party and Steve, like he was watching the world’s most invisible ping pong tournament.

“It’s not that far.” Steve muttered. Eddie almost looked guilty the way he was chewing on his lip.

And Steve looked, well… honestly Steve looked caught red handed. For what? Dustin had no fucking idea.

Dustin narrowed his eyes. Steve was bright red, his hair was a mess (highly suspect), he was wearing his favorite polo but it was all untucked and disheveled. He was blinking up at them, mouth open like he was struggling for words.

“I don’t believe it…” Dustin said. He sniffed the air, a bloodhound on the trail. “You two were…”. The older boy’s eyes grew wide. “Smoking weed!”

Eddie deflated, dropping his head. “You caught us.” He said, monotone. He pressed a hand roughly to the side of his face, leaning his elbow on his thigh and looking up at them with his one visible eye. “We secreted away to smoke some fresh schedule 1. Please don’t tell Mrs. Reagan.”

Steve did a little angry scoff. Eddie lifted his head just enough to peer through his bangs and see the pissy look Steve was giving him. Eddie threw up his palms, with a wide eyed and beleaguered flinch. Clearly telegraphing a defensive, what?

“Since when do you smoke weed.” Mike asked. Because obviously Steve wasn’t cool enough for that either.

“I peer pressured him into it.” Eddie stage whispered, wiggling his fingers in villainous glee.

Steve rolled his eyes. Dustin was like 95% sure that was total bullshit. Because he was almost 100% sure Steve already smoked some. Dustin’s been in Jonathan’s car before, of course he’s gonna know what weed smells like. He’ll catch a whiff of it on Steve every now and again, especially these last few weeks.

These guys still try to hide stuff from them like they’re little kids.

But also, Eddie’s clearly just trying to keep the mood light considering how flustered Steve looks about getting caught with the stuff.

“Remember kids, just say no. Unless your bad influence has as high quality stuff as I do in which case -“

Steve kicked out his foot knocking Eddie in the thigh.

“Say - no thank you.” He finished passive aggressively, as if Steve should’ve had more faith he would stick the landing. “Just. How’d you guys even get out here anyway?”

“Jonathan and Nancy drove us.”

“Nancy’s here?” Steve sat up quickly, straightening to look past all their heads.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. He grinned at Steve with his canines, slowly shaking his head. As if the van didn’t smell bad enough, he took out a pack of smokes.

“What?” Steve huffed. Eddie leaned against the wall of the van, one shoe dangling out brushing the ground.

“I didn’t say anything.” Eddie’s words were garbled between the cigarette he was lighting.

Dustin took a step back, looking at Mike and Will. They too, seemed to pick up on the overall bazaar energy these two were giving off.

Honestly Dustin ‘plan’ had been to march over here, make Eddie feel bad for blowing them off, then maybe asking if they could hang out with him for the rest of the movie. Probably guilt him into buying them snacks.

Dustin wasn’t happy about being ditched, but he’d wanted to come see this movie with Eddie. He could be mad at the guy later.

Now though, he was thinking Nancy and Jonathan’s weird couple energy would be preferable to this, whatever this is.

“Riiiiiiiight.” Dustin jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “We’re gonna - we’re going.”

They made it maybe 5 steps, but Eddie was ever insitant he have the last word.

“Hey shitheads. Don’t mention Harrington here, if you can help it.” He plucked the cigarette from his mouth, using the hand to cup his mouth away from Steve. He stage-whispered, “He doesn’t want Miss Priss to know he’s been experimenting with - the devil’s lettuce.” He added a lot of drama to that last bit, like he was telling a spooky ghost story. Not talking about like, pot.

“Eddie.” Steve said. Eddie ignored him.

“You guys run along now. Pay attention yeah, this one’s a classic.” He gestured vaguely behind him with his cigarette. “It’ll be on the quiz. And I expect your report on my desk Monday morning.”

They said their goodbyes again, and wandered off. When they got back to the Lincoln, Jonathan had his arm around Nancy and she was leaning her head against his chest.

Dustin took a brief second to ponder over what the hell Nancy and Jonathan’s deal even was these days…

“Hey guys.” He said, neck bending to look over his shoulder at an awkward angle so as not to jostle his girlfriend. “That Eddie’s van?”

“Uh-huh.” Will said.

“You should tell him to pull up. Or something.”

“You are not doing that right now.” Nancy muttered. “The kids are here.”

“What? I wasn’t -“ Jonathan protested. It wasn’t very convincing.

“Nah he’s uh,” Dustin wasn’t gonna call Steve out, not if he seemed actually upset that he’d been ‘caught’ doing drugs. “Eddie’s - he’s… on a date.” He said. Will nodded, because he also tended to catch on pretty quick. Even Mike shrugged in placid agreement.

“Huh.” Jonathan said, landing somewhere between surprised, impressed, and all together apathetic. “Good for him, I guess.”

Friends don’t lie, sure. Except sometimes. When friends lie for their friends.

Wait a minute. Dustin squinted at the back of Jonathan’s head. Does Jonathan buy drugs from Eddie often? It was a long shot, but maybe Eddie and Jonathan have secret smoke sessions too.

“Do you know who Eddie’s girlfriend is?” Dustin tried.

“Hmmm? Girlfriend?” Jonathan said distractedly, eyes on the screen. “Uh, no, no I don’t think I’ve met her.”

Dustin huffed, frustrated, sinking back into his seat once again. Feeling thwarted.

By the time the movie was finished and they were lining up with the other cars towards the exit, the shitbox van was nowhere to be seen.

So imagine Dustin’s surprise when he gets a call around 10 am and Eddie’s on the line asking if he wants to come by and hang out.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been telling you I’d help you out on this one shot you’re trying to run for weeks now.”

“I thought you were busy today?” Dustin inquired. Hesitant. As if just waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him.

“Nope. No, uh, not anymore. Those plans got,” Eddie cleared his throat, “scrapped. Don’t worry about it. Are you coming over or not?”

“I’ll be there in thirty!” Dustin said. He slammed the phone down and sprinted to his room to get gather his notes.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4

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[sameschmidtdiffname]

Princess

Mike Schmidt x Female! Reader

Summary: You detest having a roommate. You enjoy cheap rent. One of these things is going to have to change at some point, and with the week you're having? There's only so long before people reach a breaking point.

Tags: Smut. Filthy smut. (This is the first smut I've published too, so enjoy that.) Enemies to lovers, mocking, Mike is so OoC at some parts you could really shove anyone into this role, I'm going to be so extremely for real. (I'm honestly just feral for the actor. Sorry.) Hate fucking, dirty talk, cursing, cucking(??), listening in, masturbating, dumbification, slight dacrophillia(??), Abby's out of the equation for this scenario. Imagine like, early 20s Mike, he's not caretaker yet. Praising, pet names (good girl, princess, whore, pretty girl), no use of Y/N. Dom! Mike, teasing Reader, Brat (??) Reader, phone sex, walking in on masturbation, walking in on sex, possessive! Mike, hickies/bite marks, finger sucking, hair pulling, slut shaming, probably missing some things imma be honest. Just assume this is depraved.

Notes: I'd like to apologize to God and Josh Hutcherson. This is filth and I recognize my eternal soul is indeed damned. Anyways, bone apple teet.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I didn't mind Mike when I met him, you know.

He's quiet. Shy. Keeps to himself. Those traits should make for a good roommate. If he'd kept his mess confined to his room, maybe the music that he blares just a little too loudly wouldn't be so headache inducing.

My fingers rap on the thin door, demanding his attention which is never given to me unless I make a production out of it. We both know that.

"Michael," I say.

Silence.

"Mike."

Nothing.

I open the door and there he is, peacefully asleep on his bed as the bass shakes the water in his glass. I sigh and click off the stereo, then turn to leave. It's incredible how quickly I hear him shift on the bed, scrambling to stand.

"The fuck?" He croaks, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Your music was blaring. I already heard it from Mrs. Jones upstairs about you waking her kid up, I'm not dealing with that again," I say raising my hands up in the air defensively.

"I don't sleep well," he says.

"Neither does the baby," I say.

Mike rolls his eyes, turning the music back on and turning his back to me.

"Michael-"

"Don't call me that," he interrupts.

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Schmidt, can you at least turn it down? I'm asking nicely," I say. He stands there for a moment and though I can't see his face, I know he's thinking.

Finally, with a sigh he says "Fine, princess."

"Don't call me that," I say. I hear a small huff of laughter from him and he turns to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with false sympathy.

"It's a simple request," I say. My eyes narrow at him in irritation.

"Which one?"

"Both."

We stand there for a moment, both of us sizing the other up, taking each other in.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

With the agreement having been made, I turn to leave, shutting the door behind me.

Year long lease. Joy.

-Tuesday-

"Hurry up!" Yells Mike, pounding on the bathroom door.

"I'm fucken hurrying!" I yell back, my hands working as fast as they can to wash off my body. Late alarm, fever dreams causing me to wake in a pool of stinking sweat, and one bathroom make for a horrendous cocktail of repeated 'fuck you's through the cheap door.

"I'm gonna be late!" Mike yells.

"So am I, I'm sorry!"

There's a moment of long silence and I think maybe Mike has finally found a spot of pity, realizing that maybe we aren't enemies but simply humans who unfortunately have to coexist in this world together. Then the water turns freezing, and I realize I hate him.

"Michael!" I practically scream. Traces of soap still reside on my body, but the cold and my alarm both force me out. Angered and not thinking clearly, I wrap the towel around my dripping waist and swing the door open.

"Are you fucking happy?" I sneer, face inches from his.

His expression is initially satisfied, but as his eyes flicker downwards he and I both realize my mistake. His eyes widen, lingering for a moment on my bare chest as he processed what he was seeing, then returning to meet my glare.

"What?" I ask sharply. "You've never seen a pair before?"

He stammers. "I-I have."

"Don't act like it," I say. "Take a fucken photo, be the only pair you'll probably ever see in your life, dicksmack."

As though he remembers himself, his eyes narrow. "Move, princess."

I slam past him, walking quickly towards my room and slamming the door behind me.

"Don't wake the baby!" Mike mocks down the hall.

Oh, motherfucker. It is on.

-Wednesday-

It's hard to break a lease. It's harder when nothing as cheap exists in the area. This is a problem for both Mike and I. I know it's true for him because apparently even his bills are too troublesome to keep on the floor of his room. But despite his mess, it's him that comes barreling down the hall, bursting into my room with no warning.

"Jesus, Michael!" I start, spinning around in my chair. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"Have you ever heard of washing a dish?" He sneers. "It's not hard. My baby sister could do it."

"Oh, is she available? I'd love to see how she'd handle your laundry situation," I retort.

"Why is it impossible for you to actually wash something? You'll put water in it, let it soak. I respect that, but then you never come back to it. Do you enjoy flies? I think you enjoy flies," he says with hate dripping off of his words. I roll my eyes, but he's not entirely wrong either.

"Fine," I mutter. "I'll do the dishes. Sorry."

"See? Look at how hard that was, princess." He begins to turn away.

"Will you quit fucking calling me that?" I snap.

"I'm following our bargin. You're the one who slips first, princess," he says while laughing, raising his hands in defense.

A long moment passes, neither of us willing to back down.

"Do the dishes yourself," I say finally, turning back to the computer.

"Not my mess," he says.

"Too bad. I'm too delicate," I say with a faux breathiness to my voice. The door slams behind him, which has me instantly rising from my chair to race after him.

"Don't slam my door!" I say.

"You did it the other day!" He says, spinning around to face me and almost slipping on one of his shirts littering the hall. I can't help but smile at that.

"Problems?" I ask.

"Yeah, they exist in whatever demon spawned you," he hisses. His eyes catch on something though, narrowing as he leans slightly closer. "The fuck is on your neck?" He asks.

"The fuck you mean 'the fuck is on my neck?'" I ask.

"I mean you've got something on your neck," he says.

"No I don't," I say. "Move." I shove past him to enter the bathroom beside us, flicking on the light and feeling my irritation rise as he reaches to do the same thing simultaneously.

"See?" He says, pointing at a small, dark mark on my neck.

Fuck.

"I don't fucken know what that is," I lie, covering it with my hand.

"You liar, that's a hickey!" He says still pointing at it.

"Is not!"

"Is too. What, are you fucking some high-schooler?" He scoffs.

"Adults leave hickies too, Mike. It can be enjoyable. You'd know this if someone ever wanted to fuck you," I spit back.

"Who on earth would enjoy having sex with you?" He asks. "The only loads you leave attract flies I don't want to have to deal with come summer."

My jaw drops in shock.

"And the only loads you leave smell like menthols and depression!" I retort.

Staring. Always staring with this guy. Jaws clentched, eyes narrowed.

"Just don't bring this guy around here," he finally says. His voice is quieter but the edge is still there.

I blink. "What?"

"You heard me," he says. "I don't need to hear your shrill voice like that."

Am I imagining things or is he blushing? No, I'm definitely imagining things. It's the florescents.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I taunt. The fuck kind of response was that?

His eyes widen slightly. "No," he says a little too quickly.

"What, you get one look at my tits and now you're thinking about that degenerate shit?" I press, stepping closer.

"I don't- this-" He's blundering. I've got him now, I've found his weak spot.

Without a word, I slip out of the bathroom and return to my room, shutting the door and beginning a plan that will guarantee I won't have to worry about being the roommate that breaks lease and looks for a new apartment.

-Thursday-

"Are you close, baby?" The sweet voice on the phone asks me. The battery on my toy is flashing, showing one of us needs to finish soon. And while I like Nick, there was just something lacking in him that kept me on this irritating edge, hiding my release from me.

"I'm close," I confirm, switching hands to try and hit a new angle. The video on the computer is doing nothing to help with this at all, and I'm so bored I'm tempted to just fake it and seal the deal.

The plan was simple. Establish dominance over my roommate via fucking a guy I'd met at some party the week before. Nick was an easy target, too busy thinking with his dick to question why I was suddenly insistent on him coming over. And to guarantee his presence at the apartment, I would have to put in work. Not that I wasn't fully uninterested. He was alright, I was single. Beneficial for everyone involved.

The vibrator finally found that sweet spot, the one that made me cry out softly into the receiver as my wrist pumped with newfound vigor.

"Close," I told Nick. "Isn't as good as you though."

Nick chuckles softly. "You're sweet," he says. Then he's prattling sweet praises, whimpering into the phone breathily along with me as I finally begin to tip over the edge, moaning loudly and clearly. It's my luck that Mike should be at work at this moment.

Should be.

Wasn't.

The door opens as Mike walks in, his mind obviously focused on something else but immediately taken aback at the sight of me sprawled upon the bed, legs open, toy in hand, Nick on phone, porn on computer. Shit.

"Jesus!" Mike shouts. "It's the middle of the day!"

"Get the fuck out!" I shout back, my voice less vicious than I'd like given that I was mid-ruined orgasm. Mike covers his eyes, trying to stumble out of the door without looking, muttering a dozen apologies a second before finally reaching and slamming the door shut behind him.

Nick and I are both silent for a long while, neither of us sure what to say.

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask finally.

"...yeah." He says. And with the click of my phone, the plan is solidified.

-

I don't see Mike that evening until about three hours later when he finally emerges from his room with pink cheeks and clothed in a large hoodie he seems to wish would swallow him whole.

"Hey," I say to him. I chew on my cheap food slowly, flipping through my novel at the cluttered table.

"Hi," he says quietly, not really making eye contact with me. He crosses to the cabinets, taking out a glass and filling it with water. We listen to the tap for a moment before I finally say "I didn't mean for you to see that."

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "I got that."

More silence. The tap shuts off and he leans against the sink, taking a long sip.

"So... hickey guy?" He finally asks. And I can't help the snort that escapes me.

"Nick," I say.

"And he's...?" Mike is testing the waters, that much is obvious.

"Canadian," I say.

Mike nods. Sip. Silence.

"Nick, from Canada," he says slowly.

"Yep," I say, popping the 'p.'

Mike looks at his drink in thought.

"So you're into Canadians," he finally says. I think for a moment.

"No," I say. I mark my book and close it. "Just bored."

"Just bored?" Mike asks.

"Just bored," I confirm.

Sip. Silence. Thinking.

"You... do that regularly?" He asks.

"I mean... I like sex," I say.

His cheeks redden at that, and he takes another sip as though to hide that.

"He's coming over tomorrow," I say casually. Mike's eyes dart to mine, dark and wide.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Another sip. He finishes his glass.

"Should I find plans for tomorrow?" He asks finally.

"No," I say a bit too quickly. Both of our cheeks redden at that. "I mean, we won't... shouldn't...." I don't know what I mean.

Mike stares at me thoughtfully for a moment then looks back to the glass in his hand.

"You're pretty loud, princess," he finally says quietly.

There's a new tension in the air. One that isn't brought on by hate or dirty dishes. One that I don't mind strangely.

"You could join us, if you'd like," I offer. Mike's grip on the glass tightens so suddenly I'm almost surprised it doesn't burst.

"I- I'm pretty sure I'd get in the way," he stammers. Then his eyes darken, a strange look in them. "Besides, I don't like being a whore."

This comment stings. Deeply.

"I'm not a whore," I say defensively.

"Oh?" Mike asks.

"He's the only guy I've fucked in months, so yeah," I say.

"Oh, is that why I hear you moaning late at night all the fucking time?" Mike says. "Seriously, you're fucking loud."

"And you're a fucking virgin," I snap.

"Says who?" He asks.

"Forget it," I say. I gather my things and rise from my chair. "Don't fucking talk to me."

"Fine," he scoffs. "I'll wash this dish too, princess," he calls after me.

I spin around. "You would be so much more fuckable if you were easy to swallow," I snapped, stomping my foot like a child.

Both of us stare at each other in a bit of shock at what I just said.

"Most girls swallow just fine, thank you," he retorts.

"Who's the whore now?" I say. I don't wait for him to respond, slamming the door shut behind me.

Fine. Let him hate me. That's the whole point of this anyways. Then it'll be me and someone else in this terrible fucking apartment. Maybe it'll be Nick. Anyone would be better, I tell myself.

...

...how easy is Mike to swallow?

-Friday-

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling to remember the correct name right now.

Nick is underneath me, pumping his cock in and out like no tomorrow as I grind against him. My jaw is slack, my hands buried in the blankets fabric underneath of us. I'm staring at the thin door though, the thin door that I know leaks every little noise whether there's a towel under the enormous crack or not. And the shadows of footsteps that I see make it all the easier for Nick to continue his shallow rhythm, edging me closer and closer.

"Mi-Nick," I moan loudly. It sounds endearing, thankfully. But my heart races at how close I've come to fucking things up in a few different ways. "Fuck, you're thick," I moan. It's not particularly true, but his size is fine, so what's an ego boost to help him along the way?

Nick is sweet underneath of me, moaning that I'm his, that we're each others. That's great and all, but God. There is this missing edge. And it isn't until I hear pounding on the bedroom door that I finally feel real excitement begin to flow through me.

"We need to talk," Mike's voice says firmly.

Nick looks guilty, his eyes wide and asking for silent guidance. I don't respond, simply continuing to slide up and down Nick's cock and moaning while doing so.

"Hey, princess," Mike says firmer, pounding on the door again. "Think you can stop Oh-ing Canada and come talk to me like a fucking adult?"

I don't stop, grinding harder against Nick's base. My hands find my clit, rubbing it as I respond.

"I told you you were welcome to join us," I moan. Nick looks at me like I've gone utterly insane, and maybe I have. Maybe I'm completely delusional about all of this, but I couldn't care less as I feel my dripping cunt tighten to the point even Nick doesn't care what happens so long as he comes inside of me.

"Mi-Nick," I moan. "Mi-ne, mi-ne." Come on, Schmidt. Catch the fucking hint.

All night I had been plauged with dreams about Michael fucking Schmidt. I'd noticed when we met he was attractive to me. I liked his hands, his stubble. God, his shoulders made me think things that will probably send me straight to Hell. But hate usually kept these thoughts at bay. Last night however, the dreams wouldn't stop coming. Over and over, a new fantasy of him emerged in my head. Him underneath of me as a writing mess, him begging for more, my tits in his mouth as he finished inside me. It was depraved. I wanted it.

The door bursts open just as Nick is finishing inside of me. It's the look in Mike's eyes that causes me to finish, all while keeping eye contact with him as well.

Nick is quick to flip me on my back, covering my body haphazardly with a blanket prattling excuse after excuse. Apparently we're sorry. Apparently we had gotten too wrapped up in the moment because apparently, you know how it is, right man?

But it doesn't matter. Mike isn't looking at Nick, who's pulling on his shirt above me. Mike's looking at me, watching my fingers that trail gently along my areolas, flicking lightly at my hardened nipples and clearly longing for more.

"Mike wouldn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman," I say with little thought.

"Oh?" Both of them ask me.

"I think you should leave, Nick. Mike and I are going to have a little talk, and I don't want you to see how ugly this may get," I say without breaking eye contact with Mike.

The sudden shift in the air is not subtle, so maybe that's why Nick doesn't really hesitate to listen to me.

"I'll call you later," he says as he stumbles past Mike.

"Don't bother," Mike calls after him. Mike slams the bedroom door shut, locking it before turning to me and raising an eyebrow.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Mike asks, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as his stands tall.

My hand dips to between my thighs where Nick and I's cum pools out, coating me in the thick stuff.

"Sorry," I say in a spoiled tone, smiling.

Mike's eyes scan my entire body. From the hickies coating my neck, to my breasts and even my thighs, I can see a new wave of anger washes over him. At least, it looks like anger. There's something else mixed with it too, something I desperately want to play with.

"You're not sorry for shit," he says. He's correct.

"I told you last night, I like fucking people," I say as my fingers circle my clit.

Mike's jaw tightens. "You like fucking people," he repeats.

I can see him grind his teeth. He's silent for another moment. "And do you like... him?"

I giggle. "You tell me," I say with a soft and low voice.

His eyebrows twitch. "You're still... going?" He asks with an unsure edge to his voice.

"Yes, Michael. This is what a woman looks like when she's turned on," I say in a mocking tone, batting my lashes as my fingers dip into my entrance. "Would you like to try?"

He steps closer, bending down ever so slightly to stand over me.

"Don't call me that," he says in a low growl.

"Make me," I taunt.

He blinks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

A startled yelp escapes me as Mike grabs my hips, dragging me roughly to the edge of the bed. He spreads my legs, stepping between them and slips his rough thumb inside of me with no hesitation.

"Fuck. You do like him," he groans, his other hand fiddling with his belt. I can see how hard he is underneath his jeans, his fingers clumsy but working quickly at the items covering him.

"He's oka-ay," I say quickly, my voice trailing off into a soft moan. His thumb explores the inside of my cunt, probing the wet muscle and massaging inside of me spots a man had never taken time to look for before. "Your finger's thick," I moan.

Mike chuckles, freeing himself and pumping into his hand slowly as he presses his thumb deeper inside of me.

"You told Nick he was thick too," he says. "That just your line with guys?"

It is, but this time I actually mean it. So I shake my head. "No," I say quietly.

"I don't believe you," Mike says. He slips his thumb out of me, making me clench around nothing. I open my mouth to protest only for Mike to quickly shove his thumb into my mouth, touching the back of my throat while he sinks his cock into me.

"Go on, pretty girl," he moans. "Take it like the proud whore you are."

I gag around his thumb, both from the sudden intrusion and from the taste. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't like this, if I said that his actions didn't make me even more wet and that I didn't suck his thumb greedily, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking it clean until I can only taste his rough flesh. I swear it makes his dick twitch.

His cock slides in and out of me with ease, taking his time to feel how I wrap around him.

"Fuck," he drawls. "It's been awhile."

I moan around his thumb, running my tongue along the underside and trying to rock my hips against him to tell him to speed up. Instead, he presses a hand down on my lower stomach, pinning me down as he sinks in fully. At first glance his size is average, but inside of me it's overstimulating how he fills me just a little too much.

His thumb presses further into my throat, making me gag as he tilts his head back in pleasure.

"You are just demanding. Do you know that?" He asks. I try to respond, but he simply presses his thumb against a spot that makes me gag once more.

"Nothing's good enough for you. Not even Nick. You didn't even cum until I came in here," he laughed cruelly, looking down at where we connect. His other thumb trails down to rub my clit slowly, making me writhe underneath him and clench around his still cock.

"Never shutting up. Till now. I like it when you're quiet, princess. Makes you easier to swallow." He presses deeper inside of me, making me whine in overstimulation.

"You're mine now," he says, slowly pulling out. "You can call Nick all you want. Call him, fuck him. But we both know he's not gonna make you cum like I will." Just his tip remains in me, barely staying in before he slams back into me so hard I scream.

"So what's the point?" Mike asks, slowly slipping out once more. "Do you like pitting men against each other like that?" He slams back into me. My eyes water, but I don't protest.

This time when he pulls back, he stays there. I wait for him, trying to he patient. But then he removes his thumb and wraps his hand around his length instead.

"What?" I ask, my voice raw.

"Say it," Mike says as he jerks himself off slowly.

"Say what?" I ask.

"I'm not gonna fuck you like you want unless you say you're mine," he says casually. His tip is bright red and leaking precum, his length coated in Nick and I's milky cum.

"Fuck you," I say. Mike just laughs.

"You're the one laying here crying over some dick," he taunts. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page here, princess."

I try to hold strong, I really do. It'd be more fun if I did. But fuck. The way he stands over me, his shoulders broad. I could never deny I liked the sight of his hands either, and seeing them tug as his pulsing cock while he stared down at me with that stupid fucking smile?

It's not fair.

"I'm yours," I say quietly.

"Hmm?" Mike asks, pumping his dick quicker now. I can see how hard his veins are, and the sounds of him fucking his own hand make me want him more.

"Yours," I repeat slightly louder.

"Use proper English," he says. His face has this stupid blissful look on it, his mouth slightly open as he pants, fucking himself and watching me as he does.

"I am yours," I hiss through gritted teeth. It doesn't even take a full second before he's buried in me once more, his hands pinning my knees to my shoulders and fucking me with enough speed I'm genuinely scared he'll hurt me. And I love it.

"I'm going to make you mine," he grins, his voice suddenly turning feral.

"I'm going to make you mine so much that you won't even be able to remember what Nick's name is, let alone what he looks like. Or what he feels like."

"Uh huh," I whine. My voice is so unusually high and ragged, my mouth slack and eyes rolling back in pleasure. I rock against his hips, trying to find my second edge. I'm babbling, whether I'm asking for mercy or more is anyone's guess.

He laughs at me, and it's a harsh and cruel laugh - not at all like the usual sarcasm and mockery he displays. Instead, his laugh comes from a place that is raw and angry and vicious, the kind of laugh a wolf makes when he's about to go for the kill.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Not quite the big, bad man that he's made you think he was, is he? How disappointing," he continues, his hips thrusting into me repeatedly.

I cry loudly with each new thrust. His movements are cruel, borderline abusive. Christ, I love it.

"Bigger," I whine. "Bigger."

He teeth nip at my throat, sinking in hard enough I'll be wearing sweaters and scarves for weeks. Makeup won't touch the color.

"Bigger?" He asks in a mocking voice. "What's bigger?"

"You're bigger," I moan. My voice is broken, and there's no way the neighbors don't hear the degeneracy occurring around them. Sorry, Mrs. Jones.

"What are you going for?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his voice growing more and more vicious. "Big bad Mike?" he giggles, his grip tightening on my ankles as he continues plunging into me.

A loud scream escapes me as Mike finds my g spot. He doesn't relent, focusing on the spot and abusing it while I sob and try to wiggle away, completely overstimulated from pleasure and unable to handle it.

His hands pin me against him, trapping me where I am and forcing me to take him however he wants me to.

"You want more?" he asks, taking one hand away from my ankles, grabbing and pulling my hair harshly, forcing me to stare into his eyes. His pupils are so blown out I can't even see his pretty hazel irises. They're dark and predatory, his breath hot and heavy with rage.

"Is that what you want?" he asks, pulling back and plunging into my aching cunt again.

"Yes!" It's a violent scream that escapes me, feeling myself begin to tip over the edge. His eyes sparkle, his lips in a smile that shows he knows he's won.

"And what would Nick say if he could see you like this? All mine, all mine..." he taunts.

"Huh?" I'm completely stupid, my body coming undone so suddenly around his dick with cries, screams, whimpers and everything inbetween. Nick was foreplay and I've no mental energy to remember any detail that isn't Mike's.

"Don't even know his name?" Mike laughs. "You can't even remember his name, can you?" he grins, his eyes narrow again as he tugs my hair and shoves himself in further.

"Uh uh," I pant in a high voice. My body shakes terribly, his pounding length already edging me once more as he continues abusing my spot. How on earth am I supposed to walk after this?

"Then let me help you remember his name," he says. "Say his name."

"Mike," I moan pathetically. I'm right back on that edge, crying and feeling as though I'll burst from overstimulation.

"Louder," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Say it louder. Say his name loud enough for him to hear you."

"Mike!" I scream it religiously as I come undone a second time, gripping him to the point I can feel how close he is too. I hear him laugh above me, his other hand now wrapping around my throat and choking me slightly.

"That's my name," he says with mocking gentleness. "Say his name or I won't finish."

"I don't remember," I sob. Jesus Christ, do I have problems? "Just want you!"

His face glows, his lips split into a wide grin of satisfaction.

"So you want me, do you, princess?"

I nod pathetically. He's throbbing, slamming into me hard enough it may draw a third climax in a row.

His laugh is cruel above me, his lips landing on top of mine in a wet, possessive kiss. His tongue fills my mouth, forcing me to take him as the sounds of him fucking me like a depraved animal makes me whine in desperation.

He pulls away, a long string of spit between us connecting our lips.

"Then I'll give you what you want, princess," he says. "But there's a price."

"Uh huh," I agree. My eyes roll back as my body twitches, barely able to focus as he thrusts into me.

"Look at me," he says patiently, tugging my hair once more. When I manage to remember how, he let's out a long 'aw,' smiling down at me with false sweetness as I stare dumbly into his eyes. I suppose I'm staring into his eyes. God, I'm stupid.

His thumb grazes my jaw, tutting as he examines my face closely.

"Your eyes are pretty...*" he says, his voice sweet and tender, almost like I've made him soft and vulnerable, but his cock pounding into me causes the beginning of a headache that won't let me forget how much we hate each other. "Your eyes are pretty, your mouth is pretty..."

I lick my lips and nod lightly.

"You are just such a pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks. I nod, my body twitching uselessly as my third climax washes over me.

"Good girl," he praises. "All fucked out over me. That's good."

Suddenly and without warning, he pulls out quickly and shoves my face down close to his cock, coming all over my face. It's thick and everywhere. In my hair, my mouth. I can't even open my eyes.

"Stay like that," Mike commands as he lays me on my back. His softening cock reenters me and pumps lazily, his purpose to make sure he's fully emptied.

"Any new thoughts?" He asks me in a strange tone, light and amused. I simply moan, relishing the moment. He chuckles and spreads my legs so he can better see what is happening between us. It isn't until I hear the chime of his camera confirming a recording that I realize what he's done.

"Mike?" I ask, barely able to think straight.

A low laugh escapes him, cruel but warm.

"I want to show your new boyfriend the real you," he says. "Make sure we're all on the same page here, right?

...Fuck me, I have problems.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Thanks for reading, pookies. See y'all in hell.

Masterlist

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me, You Miss Me

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

@mc-i-r is writing another version of this and tagged me and my brain woke up, so here ya go. This is almost all dialogue, and my new love for Mrs Buckley.

----

"Hey Steve-o! Get in here!" Robin yelled.

"Thought you were talking to your mom?" Steve shouted back.

"I am! That's why you have to come here! The cord won't reach!"

Steve hauled himself up from the corner of the kitchen where he was reorganizing things for the third time since they moved in last week. There was a pile of boxes they really needed to open in the hallway, and his mattress was still against the wall, but he kept going back to the kitchen, trying to make it work despite there being only one pull out drawer. One. They noticed before they signed the lease, but they both assumed they could make it work somehow if they just tried hard enough. But. Third time's the charm.

Flopping onto the thrifted couch next to his best friend, he leaned against her head, and greeted, "Hi Mrs Buckley, how are you?"

"Now why can't you answer the phone so politely, Robin? Who raised you to be so impolite?"

"Yeah, mom, I know you love Steve more than you love me, you tell me every time you talk to him, now can you say it again please?"

"Yes, well, like I was saying, I don't really know why they were all so upset about it, but I didn't want to overstep, so I didn't tell them anything. Not really. Only that you had moved and that you were fine. It's not like that's a secret. Then I noticed that they didn't know about that and so I didn't answer the rest of the questions, which really only made them more upset, but I think they were upset with me, not with the pair of you, so that's perfectly fine, none of them were nearly as vicious as Robin was when she was fifteen and decided she--"

"Mom!"

Steve giggled. Robin's rambling came from her mother, that was certain, and it was worse when they were on the phone. They fed on each other's talking. Like that snake thing.

"Right, yes. Well, Steve, like I told her, those boys, the ones you used to babysit for, they came around to ask if I knew where you were," Mrs Buckley finally said.

Robin grabbed his hand with the one not holding the phone, and pressed her forehead harder against his as they crowded the handset. Steve didn't think he'd reacted, but they didn't need anything as boring as a visible reaction to know each other.

"They said that they went into the video store and saw someone new at the desk, and when they heard that the two of you were no longer working there -- Apparently that manager of yours had some unpleasant words on the subject. You know I never liked him? The first time I stepped in there he asked me if I was still married? Not like that, of course, but it was still very strange. I didn't like it. And according to Robin he was always like that, wasn't he, Steven?"

"Yeah, he was pretty weird," Steve answered numbly.

"Well, that Keith fellow told them you were no longer employed there and that curly haired one demanded to know where you were employed. Since its not like he knew even if he would have told them, those boys went looking for themselves. I guess they went to your house first, Steven, and must have seen the for sale sign. I don't know what your parents are thinking, selling with the market like it is right now, but no one has ever made either of your parents listen to a single word of sense in their lives."

"Mom, the point?"

"Yes, sorry dear, like I told Robin, eventually it must have occurred to them that the two of you would be in the same place and thought to come by. Well. I say come by. First they called, and your father, you know how he is, simply said you were no longer in residence and hung up on them. He thinks he's so funny. Oh! Make sure you remember to call next Tuesday to congratulate him. It's his first day as the lead manager in the office. Oh no, wait, does it count as long distance for you? Never mind, I'll place the call so you don't have to worry about it."

"Mrs Buckley? You were saying something about Dustin?" He was proud that his voice was steady. They left Hawkins eleven days ago. They started packing two weeks before that. His parents put the house on the market around the same time. It wasn't until today that they noticed.

"Yes, that's the one. So Dustin didn't take your father's humor well, and he and his friends came by earlier this evening."

"Wait, evening?" Steve interrupted, "It was dark? They were biking around in the dark? In this weather?"

"Oh goodness no, that young man drove them. The one that was in the papers that the pair of you helped last year. He was much more polite than they were. Well, once I told them that you'd moved, they all started shouting over each other, I was sure that Ms Wickley was going to come over and scold them."

"I'm sorry, ma'am--"

"Oh you don't need to ma'am me Steven, I've told you that."

"Mom, he was just trying to be polite when he asked you to please get to the point, so can you, you know, try to get to the point some time tonight. You're paying for the call, but jeez."

"Oh yes. Well it occurred to me while they were all shouting that if they were your friends like they were saying, they would have known that you were moving. So when they managed to calm down enough I could hear a thing I said, I refused to tell them anything else. It's none of their business if you don't want it to be. And that Dustin boy said that you were his best friend, right in the same sentence he said he hadn't seen you in a month. But, I wasn't entirely sure if I was wrong about it, so I did promise I would ask you if you wanted me to pass on your information."

"Good job, mom, you finally got back to it. This is why I had you come over here, so you could hear that last part. I should have just asked you. Do you want my mom to give them our number or address or anything?" Robin had rolled her eyes over her mom's rambling, completely unaware she was just as terrible. But then she stared at him, concerned and outraged and protective and sad. God, he didn't know what he'd do without her.

"Did they ask?" Steve said.

"Ask? I don't think a single one of them knows how to ask anything. They certainly shouted a lot of demands. If you don't want me to tell them, I have no complaints about being the villain in this story. After everything you've done for my girl, being there for her before she even told me, and now making sure she's safe from any kind of trouble up there, you're such a perfect - what was the - beard? I think that's what I saw in that article in that magazine. Oh, no, the Zine, I ordered. But even without all that, I'll happily shut the door in their faces every day for a year if that's what you want done."

Steve's next breath stuttered, and that was all Robin needed to see.

"Hang on mom, I'm going to put the phone down, don't hang up, we'll be back." She sat the handset on the couch, then dragged a throw blanket over it to muffle their voices completely.

"You okay there or do I need to make a snap decision about which is going to be our household's vomit bowl?" He pushed her shoulder half-heartedly. "Okay, yeah, we both know it's gonna be the one with the cow on it. But you okay there, Stevie?"

"I'm fine."

"No you aren't."

"I'm fine."

She gasped, "You would lie to your soulmate? To her face?"

"I'm not! I'm fine! I just... I don't know, Robs."

Robin watched for a second as all of the muck of emotions bubbled inside him. Then she, as she always did, understood him.

"You want to say no. You want to tell her not to let them know where we are, but you're also freaking out because the brats come find you whenever It's back."

And because for a second, he desperately hoped that they missed him, or wanted to call so they could apologize for the last months. She didn't need to say that part. He half shrugged, sort of nodded, and bobbed his chin towards the throw blanket.

"You sure, Dingus?"

"Yeah."

"Is it gonna be Hopper or Joyce?" she faux wondered as she grabbed the phone from its prison. "Mom? Hi, back. Yeah, thank you. I'm gonna hand the phone to Steve now."

She didn't move away, but she didn't share the earpiece.

"Hi Mrs Buckley. I guess I -- could I ask a couple questions first?"

"Of course dear. What would you like to know?"

"Did any of them say anything weird or really specific?"

"Like what?"

"Like, about the mall, or last spring, or, bats, or uh, did they say anything about their dungeons and dragons game?"

"No. Why would they?"

Steve forced his shoulders to relax. El said it was done, but four years of it coming back meant he'd never fully trust that as true.

"No reason I guess."

"Well. That Munson boy did ask me about a radio right at the end. After the others stomped back to the driveway. He came back and he seemed - well he asked about a radio. And I said you certainly had a radio in your car, but I think he may have been talking about something else. Is that what you meant?"

"Okay, uh. Yeah. Thank you. I guess."

"So what would you like me to tell them next time I see one of them? If you'd like to take your time about it, you can. They were quite worked up about it, but it's a little ridiculous to act like they were owed something if they didn't even notice you two moving. You knocked over a stop sign with that rental truck."

Steve laughed. Couldn't help it. "I really can't wait, ma'am. They'll be back tomorrow morning to bother you." He gave Robin a look she immediately returned. Even without hearing the other half, she understood how true that was.

"Of course they won't, they have school," Mrs Buckley argued.

"Yeah, just means they'll be at your door even earlier."

"Well that's rude."

"Yeah, that's them. So, um. You can be rude back if you want. Don't, uh, you don't need to answer their questions. If you don't mind that they're not going to take it well."

Mrs Buckley laughed, loud and cackling for a moment, making the phone go staticky. "Oh dear, it would be my absolute pleasure to be rude right back to them. I'm much better at it. Anything else?"

"Yeah, you know Jim Hopper?" The resounding silence promised she was giving him the same judgemental look Robin was. "Sorry, that was dumb. But can you give him our number? Not to share with them, just so he has it. And, funny story about radios, but, the one that -- that that guy asked about is in your hall closet. Top shelf, next to the popcorn tin. Give Hopper that too?"

"Certainly, anything I should tell him, or should I ask to return the phone to my ridiculous child that you're generous enough to live with so I can say good night?"

For some reason, it made him think about the returns box at the store. A handle pulled open, the movie dropped inside, and nothing else needed. No one had to explain why they were giving back their copy of Breakfast Club. They had it for a while, hopefully they enjoyed it, and then when it was done, when they didn't need it anymore, or when it was overdue, when they kept it longer than they should have, costing them more money to keep around than it was worth, when they decided they were done with it, they didn't write a letter and explain why they--

"No. But, just. Tell him its for emergencies or something. Thank you, bye, or, goodnight ma'am, Mrs Buckley, uh, here's Robs. Bye."

He climbed off the couch as he shoved the phone at her, and headed for the window in his yet to be unpacked room. Rob would kill him in his sleep if he had a cigarette, but if he had any, he'd have taken the risk.

The glass was so cold it was painful against his forehead when he leaned into it, and he watched the little flurries of snow on the street kicked up by the wind. They didn't even notice for a few weeks. They'd quit Family Video a week before they left, and he knew the kids watched at least a few every weekend. They must have gone in, multiple times, and just, not noticed. Or not cared.

He wasn't sure which of those was worse.

He wasn't sure why it hurt when he made his peace with it weeks and weeks ago. It hadn't ached so vividly since the fall. Worst of all was the shock of concern for them, thinking they were out on their bikes in the dark and the snow. Then the relief that Eddie drove them. The feeling was huge enough to eclipse anything else until he knew they were safe.

Hadn't seen them in a month, barely seen them before that, and his first instinct was still to drop everything and grabs his keys. He was two hours away, and his brain was itchy to go drive by and check on them. They didn't need him to do that. They didn't want him to.

And based on how his stomach lurched when he heard that they didn't know he'd left, he didn't think it would do him any favors to go back. Hop and Joyce knew how to handle them if they started to do anything too risky, and the kids were practically glued to Eddie's side.

They weren't his to look after.

"Stop staring out the window like your lover is lost on the moors," Robin complained, wrapping him in a hug from behind.

"I have no idea what that means, Robs."

"Good, I'll explain it to you. Come on, lets go, we've got a kitchen to reorganize. I already started stuff for popcorn and hot chocolate. Lets gooooo, you're too heavy for me to carry, hup two."

Steve snorted and let her drag him away.

"I thought we were going to get my room set up, so I wouldn't have to share with you again?"

She gave him that look. That one that was fond and frustrated and sassy as shit. The one that said she wasn't going to let him get away with being dumb, but wasn't going to call him on it.

"It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. You can share with me for a while longer. Now do the hot chocolate, and don't skimp on the whipped cream. We bought that can on sale and its going to go bad any second. Just use all of it. Directly into our mouths if we cant get it balance on the mug. Don't want to waste it, and we deserve it. I'm on popcorn duty, and then we're going to defeat this puzzle, Harrington. We outsmarted the Russians, we can outsmart the dishes!"

Shit. He sniffled as he followed her orders.

He was so damn grateful he still had her.

-----

Next>>

Still don't do tag lists. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[siriuslylantsov]

through your eyes i see, a smile you bring to me

matt murdock with sculptor!gf who makes a sculpture of him because she wants to have matt see himself through her eyes.

sculptor!gf who has him sit for a few hours, she thinks its a tortuous process as she takes rough sketches, pictures from different angles, and carves out the main areas of his face into the clay but he doesn't mind–he focuses on her breathing and the beat of her heart as he meditates.

it's made over the next days, in a little studio where sculptor!gf works tirelessly. it has to be perfect.

“don't sacrifice your style for my sake,” matt says one day when she tells him about how tedious it is to smooth out the clay. he knows that when she usually sculpts, it's rough, patches of clay pressed over each other in textured harmony. “you won't be able to feel it then,” she murmurs distractedly, hunched over her workspace. “it doesn't matter, angel. it’s your eyes isn't it?” he counters and she begrudgingly concedes, she hides her smile and he can feel it in the way she bites into her lip.

she doesn't know how far his sight goes, if she can even call it that. does he know what he looks like? is he only able to picture himself from before the accident? when he was a child? does he feel his face like he carefully did hers when she walked him up to his apartment after a night out with foggy and karen? she plans to ask him these things later, she still has so many questions about his situation but for now this will do.

when it's finally finished and she presents it to him, she's a nervous wreck. he can hear the way her heart races as she sets it down on his coffee table. the way her muscles strain slightly tells him the piece is heavy and he thinks about how she carried it all the way over to his place, his lips curling into a small smile. he pats the seat beside him for her to sit.

he reaches out to the mass he senses in front of him, hands settling over what he assumed was his hair. to be fair the texture did make it difficult to feel but it was clear that he passed over the swoop of his hair when he did. his fingers trail lower and she watches intently as they purposefully skim over his forehead, then his eyebrows, over the bridge of his nose. they part as the drag over the highs of his cheeks and down to his jaw where the dried clay replicates his scruff that she oh so admires. one hand drops down to her knee where he caresses lightly in appreciation and the other curls around the back of the sculpture's neck, thumb hooking around under his chin. 

he pauses there, noting the placement of a scar, right above his adam's apple, where a line of raised skin used to reside, now less prominent due to time passed but there nonetheless. his thumb passes over it a few times, recalling how when he first met her that cut was fresh–he’d never have known stumbling half-dead into her art studio months ago would have led to this and god was he grateful for whoever beat him up that night. 

she leans her head against his shoulder, also thinking what he was. she presses a kiss into his shirt, “do you like it?”

“yeah. i really do,” he whispers earnestly, “thank you.”

she lifts from his shoulder to hold his face, similar to how he was with the mound of clay but with infinitely more care. “i don't think i could ever replicate how perfect you are,” she matches his tone, a little sad. it makes her sad that he’ll never truly be able to see himself but it’s ok, she’ll be there to tell him–and show him–for however long she can. 

for @neverthatsirius-jo (my fellow mattie enthusiast)

[khaenriahn-anthropologist]

We're going to be looking into Kaeya's design elements from his game model and to some of his notable talent designs. This is focused on the visual elements and what information they can provide about him to the viewer.

Kaeya has many details in his game model which can be a little overwhelming at times but let's take a note of how many layers he wears in his outfit. This is something that I feel points to the complexity of his character, a desire to hide something, the layers you need to peel away in order to uncover what he is at his most vulnerable.

As we know, Kaeya is a very secretive character and one that's rather terrified of showing his true self to others. In this way I feel the layers symbolize this.

Continuing on, another odd detail to note about his character is the number of belts, chains, and cuffs that he wears.

Kaeya wears a choker, with a chain beneath it, multiple belts, shirt stays for his sleeves, wrist cuffs, an added cuff on one, a hanging chain, he also has cuffs on his ankles.

While many might assume that this is a fashionable statement in game, we the viewer knowing his backstory can feel that these motifs represent being restricted. This could be from Kaeya's inability to feel that he can express his true self, or feel the weight of his original purpose in Mondstadt to act as a pawn for the Abyss Order.

He is both physically and emotionally restricted. It could also represent his guilt over feeling like a traitor or an outsider to the place he resides in.

We must also take into consideration that it might have something to do with his passive talent: Hidden Strength

The meaning of the passive stays the same in CN as well which could elude to the idea that perhaps Kaeya is under some sort of seal, barring him from using his full abilities.

Kaeya is strange too in the fact that he wears an eyepatch but lacks a sufficient reason for doing so and has consistently worn one since he was a child.

We know the eye was injured during his fight with Diluc, however in letters it is confirmed that the eye is not at all deeply affected by the injury sustained.

In his character quest: Secret Pirate Treasure, he tells the traveler that the eyepatch is inherited by his grandfather and is proof of his lineage.

Now, we know this is a half lie as Kaeya often does not tell the truth, it is likely that the eyepatch is indeed something passed on to him but due to the eye underneath. This speculation is not new, but I will go into some detail for why I think this eye is most likely red in color.

In CN this talent name actually refers to having noble blood and several of the game's references to King Irmin in the game (who is likely distantly related to Kaeya) have a red right eye.

Both Princess Fischl and the Deathly Statuette representing Odin/King Irmin have a red right eye. It should be noted that in Fischl's normal model it is her right eye that is covered instead, hiding the red eye underneath. Kaeya's new skin also includes a red bead on the right side, perhaps hinting at the color it would be beneath his eyepatch.

Ororon and Kaeya also share many similarities, the dark hair with gradient strips is extremely uncommon in genshin, he also has one reddish right eye and one blue. His entire design is deeply tied to Nihility, the undead, and the abyss. His soul is incomplete and was originally going to be used to be sacrificed to the night kingdom to bring the souls back to the living.

Though it is only speculation, we still have no idea what Kaeya's specific purpose was and why he would be Khaenri'ahn's last hope. But we have seen before that previous Alberich's were used to create the Loom of Fate, so who knows but it might have originally been similar to Ororon.

We also see that in his Sailwind skin that if Kaeya's hair was not cut short that he would have more strips of gradient hair all the way down to the end. We have mostly only see this on characters that are gods so we will see if it becomes relevant later on but it could speak to some lesser divinity that Kaeya possesses.

In fact the Tenebrous Mimiflora has featherlike appendages that resemble the peacock feathers with rings of multiple colors centering a dark 'eye'.

What is its 'evolved' form takes the shape of a tree full of eyes and the three diamonds/stars as well, and peacocks are often depicted in mythology as having one hundred eyes of Argus, tasked with guarding Hera, the queen of Gods. The fact that Kaeya is depicted both in constellation and in design as having these peacock elements is interesting when Oculi in Genshin are referred to as God Pupil/Eyes.

Even the material it drops actually eerily resembles elemental Oculi with an eye in its center, gazing out.

This creature seems to have evolved to mimic Irminsul, as you can see the branches of destiny and fate.

Even there in the center of its branches you can see that familiar design depicting the Nihility symbol found on Ororon and through various other characters in Genshin.

If Kaeya's connection to the eyes is some sort of connection to Irminsul or the mimicry of Irminsul we can also take a look at something else interesting about him.

The fur is tied closely to Abyss Mages, but also fur is often a sign of royalty and power historically. Especially white furs which are a symbol of royal authority.

Kaeya's cape is interesting, for one, the feathered part resembles that of which we see in many divine beings and statues in the game.

This winged motif is found on Paimon, on Statues of the Seven, Celestial Nails, Abyss Entities, and even in Dvalin and other Draconic figures.

But what about the layer underneath? Believe it or not, but this symbol is also present in many aspects of the game.

The symbol of a line dotted in diamonds is present in the eyes of the Unknown Goddess, Phainon (From HSR aka Kevin Kaslana)

And Istaroth, the goddess of Time

He also has the three star motif on his shoulder pauldron:

Kaeya also has more connections to the Statues of the Seven, as even his elemental skill heavily resembles Phanes and the Four Shade imagery on the statues.

It even has the same fanned star formation.

In all he seems to have many odd connections between both 'celestia' and the Abyss. Even his other talent Glacial Heart which resembles a snowflake is actually the Triquetra we see in game:

We see it on both items that are affected and touched by the night realm and the abyss in the form of flora and likely has some tie to the three moon sisters as the Triquetra is formed by three carefully layers circles (moons in our case) and represents an unbroken loop.

If anyone is interested in hearing me cover more or would like to talk details, let me know. I'd love to chat about it.

[hauntdoesthings]

let's talk about: Husk

Husk is a character that I see a lot of love for, but not a lot of discussion about, at least not the same way we talk about Angel Dust or Alastor, so I'd like to start the conversation since I've noticed certain details about him during a rewatch.

How He Socializes

Husk puts it best himself; "Everybody likes to bitch to the bartender." He knows more about everyone than anyone else, whether they tell him or not. Not only is he the one people turn to vent to at their lowest, he has incredible skill at reading others. It's most likely something he picked up as a gambler, but we can see he still utilizes it to read the other residents, like knowing Angel shouldn't be getting drunk after his long shift and realizing when he's masking right afterwards.

On the other hand, reading people like this doesn't seem to fit with his character in earlier episodes. In the first episodes, Husk makes it very clear he doesn't want to at the hotel and by extension doesn't want to be around the residents. His first line is literally about how he's forced to be there and pretty much all of his screen time is spent being anywhere from unfriendly to outright aggressive towards the rest of the cast. He surely doesn't care enough to read people to get closer to them, so why does he? I believe it's either a subconscious behavior or possibly as a defensive measure. Like in a poker game, he reads his "opponents" to stay ahead of them while keeping his own cards close to his chest.

It's already clear Husk values his boundaries when watching his earlier interactions with Angel, but this combined with other behaviors makes me think he's a very defensive person in general. His body language is constantly closed off, often crossing his arms or physically being separated from others behind the bar. This could just be indicative of his surly personality, but there is a specific behavior makes me think more of it. During my rewatch for this post, I realized Husk has a tendency to hug himself during certain moments of discomfort, like the entire first trust exercise in episode 3(more on that later), and during his first argument with Angel in episode 4, he actually shields himself with his wings when AD insults him before leaving.

Speaking of, episode 4 is really a great example of how Husk view others, especially since this is when his mindset finally shifts.

It's easy to see how dismissive Husk is of AD during this episode, with his constant reiterations of how "fake" he is and even saying that he'll be fine after running out despite knowing that he's had a hard night. Looking a little closer at his mannerisms though, it's clear that he cares more than he wants to let on. He insults the scripts and setting of AD's video rather than his acting and even says that that's specifically what Angel tends to complain about. Even when Valentino sudden calls up AD, Husk's face is more upset than "I told ya so." He realizes that Angel is unhappy with his work, but at the same time, he doesn't think too deeply about it.

Husk assumes that because everyone tends to spills their guts to him while drinking, he knows all he needs to about them, and he's correct to a certain degree; however, despite everything he knows, he doesn't appear to think too deeply beyond what he can easily glean. Charlie wants to help others so she doesn't have to help herself, Vaggie projects her self-hatred and high standards onto those around her, and Angel bullshits his way through everything because he's an actor who doesn't know how to be real. Husk realizes these things easily, but not why the others are this way, and it especially shows during his confrontation with AD, as when Angel finally snaps and reveals his true motives, Husk is visually taken aback.

He's so used to knowing and analyzing people easily that this sudden, truly heartfelt moment from Angel makes him rethink how he's been going about their interactions, how he's been thinking of him this whole time. And this is the moment that makes him decide to open up about his own past. Whether it was seeing that common thread between himself and Angel or possibly a realization that he won't accept help from someone who doesn't offer any input of their own, this is the first time we really see him offer any of his private, personal life, and afterwards, there's an obvious shift in how he treats Angel and everyone else.

"Loser Baby" is the first time we see Husk willingly initiate physical contact onscreen when he's always be visibly tense and uncomfortable at even most mentions of it, though most of that was AD being suggestive so it could be an issue with sexual intimacy than physical. He's comfortable enough in episode 6 to go clubbing with the group and genuinely looks like he's enjoying himself, especially compared to when he went to keep an eye on Angel in episode 4, even helping look out for Niffty when needed and supporting Angel after standing up to Valentino. In the lead-up to the Extermination, there's not a single insinuation that he would've left the hotel, choice or not, and he is with the rest of the cast during all the important moments of the battle, from Sir Pentious' death to the ending number. Even when Alastor is presumed dead, even if he assumed Alastor wasn't really gone, Husk could've easily run off during his absence, but he sticks around to help rebuild, undeniably of his volition, wanting to help his friends and possible family.

That note also brings me to something I've really been wanting to talk about:

Husk and Alastor

Unless we see a shift or get new knowledge about Nifty, Alastor and Husk have a really unique relationship both in theory and as evidenced. Husk is a former Overlord, presumably from before Alastor's rise if he was willing to bet his soul in a game with him. This opens up a lot of questions for me, mainly about what their bet entailed, what led Husk to making it in the first place, and if there's a certain respect between them. Yes, Alastor refers to Husk as his "pet," but Husk also comes to him with his suspicions about Mimsy and it can almost be read as worry. Alastor even responds that "it's nothing [he] can't handle." There has to be a certain level of trust for someone to bring up "hey, that friend you've known for decades only ever comes to you when they need something" and have their concerns taken seriously, even if Alastor's care for others is negligible at best. This whole scene seems to be showing that despite their deal, their past as equals has not been totally forgotten by either of them, leading to a certain understanding of each other that neither, particularly Alastor, have had with anyone else up until now.

The biggest reason I bring their relationship up though is Alastor's deal. With all we've seen, I believe Husk is the one character besides Alastor himself and whoever the other party is that knows about the deal and its possible connection to Alastor's disappearance.

For one, Husk is the one that confirms Alastor is "on a leash" in the first place, and he shows no surprise that Husk knows. Alastor is definitely not the kind of person to let anyone know about something like that no matter how close they are, so this makes me think either Husk had to know or that he was possibly there during the deal.

It also stands out to me the specific phrasing that Husk and Alastor use during the scene.

"You've been gone a long time, and it's not like anybody knows why." "They don't need to know!"

This kind of phrasing makes it feel like Husk is specifically being excluded from that group by both himself and Alastor. If it's true that Alastor's deal is the reason he disappeared, then Husk knowing about both the deal and why Alastor's been gone lines up perfectly. Maybe Husk will be the one to reveal more about this to the audience or even the rest of the cast later on, but it's clear that he does know more than anyone not directly involved and at this moment is the most likely to talk about it, assuming Alastor doesn't immediately tear him a new one for it.

Little Details

Last section, I promise. This is just some little details I noticed while rewatching for this that didn't really fit in anywhere else and questions/speculation about them.

Remember how I mentioned Husk hugging himself earlier? The first time I noticed this was during episode 3 when, after seeing the stage, he declares "I'm not about to put on some show for these fucking chumps." Not sure how much of everyone's backstory is still canon, but it was stated that Husk was a magician during his life, so maybe this is hinting that he has some stage-related baggage?

Also during episode 3, we see Husk sneak down the stairs before Vaggie can toss him off the roof in the warzone, and since he didn't come back up with Angel and Pentious, he presumably left before they made it out. However, at the end of the episode, he's laughing with everyone over the events of it. He comments that SP can "take a beating like a champ" and "you did ok, new kid," so was he just pretending like he was there or did he just hang out on the sidelines and watch? Husk wtf?

Husk specifically says that AD's video is "not a very convincing interrogation scene." Does Husk have experience?

When the bartender pours drinks for the gangster getting Angel a refill, Husk immediately watches the drinks themselves, before the guy even reaches for that little bottle. He's a bartender, he's probably seen too many people have their drinks fucked with to the point it's just an instinct now.

He was ready to square tf up when Valentino hit Angel, but waited until Angel walked away instead of jumping in like in episode 4. He really does trust him to take care of himself and was ready to back up whatever he did.

During "The Show Must Go On," it's minor, but Husk actually tucks his wings around the group hug and it's aasfjkdsajfd

For those who've made it this far, thank you so much for listening to my overthinking and ramblings. Please feel free to ask about anything incoherent, add on to anything, or point out things I missed, I'd just really love to get the discussion started on some of these things!

[warblogs17282]

So, I've been thinking about the stuff that ghostfuckers told us about Millie, and I got curious and wondered if what we learned about her there could be used to put things shown in the first short and unhappy campers into perspective a bit more.

Hell's Belles:

Some comments from Sallie May interested me, mainly the lines "for your fancy job." and "shiny new life", and there's a line in ghostfuckers I think I can tie into Sallie May generally describing Millie's job and life positively.

That being, "Most of my life I bought into the idea that all I could ever be was a simple farm girl. Or best an underpaid goon.", and I suspect that Sallie May is still affected by this stereotype, that she feels like she's also a part of that stereotype, considering that we know that she helps out at her parent's ranch.

Which would explain part of the reason why Sallie May calls it 'fancy' and 'shiny', because she may feel like Millie is a notable exception to the stereotype, which would obviously be something that she would describe positively, especially considering that job and life now also consists of killing humans, something that is very much a one of a kind thing. Considering that Millie bought into the stereotype before joining Blitz, it's very probable that Sally May also bought into the same/similar stereotype.

Obviously this is only part of the reason why she describes Millie's job and life like she does, but I still feel like ghostfuckers adds more depth to that statement.

Another thing that I want to mention is the fact that they did some playfighting at the end of the episode, which I think ties into this line in ghostfuckers: "We're just Wrathians, Blitzo. Muscle. It's all we're good for, all I'm good for."

Another stereotype, that all Wrathians are good for is muscle, and fighting is a good way of building muscle, which would help to explain why they just naturally fell into playfighting at the end of the episode, because it's implied that they had playfights like this a lot with each other, and considering the stereotype of that all Wrathians are good for is muscle, it makes sense why they have such a history of playfighting with each other, because again, if Millie believed that stereotype before meeting Blitz, it's very likely that Sallie May also believed the same/similar stereotype as well.

Unhappy Campers:

Let's just skip to the boiling point of their argument in this episode, we know that Millie felt undermined during this episode, which we can see with the line "And for once, I feel like... like I'm important. Like I'm someone to be proud of...", which quite heavily plays into the line "We're just Wrathians, Blitzo. Muscle. It's all we're good for, all I'm good for.", which probably helps to explain part of the reason why Millie felt so strongly about this, just because you know that the stereotype is false doesn't mean it doesn't effect you anymore, it's clearly something that still resides in the back of Millie's head somewhere.

I use that line in particular, because there's two times in the episode before this where we can see Millie be visibly annoyed at Moxxie, and I believe that part of the reason is because she feels like her other qualities are being undermined, with the main one here being her smarts, which kind of plays into the line in ghostfuckers, that stereotype, because considering how prominent that stereotype was for her until meeting Blitz, it's not unreasonable to assume that this specific stereotype was playing in the back of her mind again, which would help to explain part of the reason why she felt so strongly about it when the argument reaches it's boiling point.

Plus, one of the first things Blitz told Millie right after he moved his business to IMP was 'You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring.', showing even further why Millie feels so strongly about this, she probably feels like what Moxxie is doing is a slap in the face to what Blitz told her when they first moved to IMP for their business.

Plus, there's also other relevant lines like "Most of my life I bought into the idea that all I could ever be was a simple farm girl. Or best an underpaid goon." and "Not exactly a shortage of imp assassins in Wrath. Reputation is everything."

"And what's your reputation, hmm?"

Although these are less directly relevant to this scene, I still think it's worth considering into the big picture of why Millie felt so strongly here.

tbh, this is another reason while I'll defend the unhappy campers Moxxie and Millie conflict, it has quite a bit of depth to it if you consider everything, and I've just shown you all that ghostfuckers has given that conflict a bit more depth.

[discordiansamba]

Azula visits him in his cell.

He knows she's coming before she arrives. He can hear the guards at the door try and dissuade her. His sister snaps at them, angry. How dare they stand in her way, when she knows that they let Mai through. They relent, and Azula steps into his cell.

She crinkles her nose at the smell. He's less filthy than he was before thanks to Mai, but only just. She meets his eyes- and for just a moment, her breath catches. Zuko's tempted to start growling, just to see what would happen. The dragon goads him on, but he decides against it.

"What do you want?"

She obviously didn't expect him to speak. When he does, she exhales, and she's back to the normal Azula.

"I see you're back to your usual self," Azula observed, "-I suppose we have Mai to thank for that. I hear she's been visiting you."

"Upset you'll have a harder time executing us?" Zuko asked. "Or is father the one who plans to do the honors?"

Azula flinches- it's obvious that she didn't expect him to know about that. He doesn't blame her. She must have assumed he didn't have the presence of mind to understand anyone when he'd been paraded through the Caldera like a chained beast.

(He had been, he supposes.)

"Father, of course," Azula recovers, "-it's only fitting that the Fire Lord should slay the last of the dragons."

Zuko bares his fangs. "What makes you think we'll go down so easily?"

Azula huffs, and rolls her eyes. "You should just make it easy on yourself, Zuko. I would think you'd be grateful to be released from your miserable excuse for an existence."

Yeah. He can't deny that some small part of him still longs for that. But he thinks of Uncle, and of Mai- thinks of his friends. They'd all seen him at his worst, but they accepted him anyways. And she's right- if he dies, the dragons really will be gone. He's spent years chafing at the confines of the prison that is his body, but maybe it doesn't have to be one.

Azula never looks him in the eye anymore. He levels his gaze with hers, but she takes it as the challenge it is, and doesn't look away.

"And what would you do," Zuko said, "-if it comes for you next?"

His sister pales. He shouldn't be enjoying this. He's not stupid- he figured it out a long time ago. He knows Azula blames herself. She hadn't known the consequences when she'd shoved him into that cave- she'd only been six. She was just playing a petty, jealous prank. All she'd wanted was to go back to the villa and lap up mother's attention for a few hours.

He also won't lie to himself. He blames Azula- but only sometimes. She was just a child. They'd both been children. But he also can't pretend that he's not bitter, vengeful in a way that has nothing to do with the spirit that took up residence in his skin. She'd taken everything from him- just like her namesake had taken everything from the dragon.

"Don't worry," Zuko promises, "-when you're running a fever that high, you don't even notice your body twist out of shape."

"Shut up," Azula snaps, "-I would never let that happen."

"You wouldn't have a choice," Zuko says, "-did you think I did? You can't fight something like that. You'll be lucky if the dragon decides to ever give you your body back. It's not like Uncle's here to guide you."

(He's not quite himself right now, otherwise he would never be saying these things. But he doesn't stop. He holds the dragon at bay, but only just.)

"Be quiet," Azula hisses, "-I would never become like you."

"No, you won't," Zuko agrees, "-because I don't intend to die."

Azula stares at them for a long moment, then clicks her tongue. She leaves without another word, and Zuko exhales. He shakes off the dragon, its whispers falling back into silence. He feels like he's finally won, but it doesn't feel as good as he hoped it would.

He doesn't hate Azula. He can't.

(It was as much a warning as anything else. Killing him would only free the dragon- and leave it free to search for its next host

Who better than Azulon's very namesake?)

[sparkplug02]

My take on the Final Fifteen

To Aziraphale, I don’t think the choice was “stay with Crowley on Earth” or “leave Crowley for Heaven.” I think the choice was “go to Heaven with Crowley” or “go to Heaven without Crowley.” In other words,

“No” wasn’t an option (to Aziraphale) (gif is not mine).

From the coffee shop scene where the Metatron orders coffee from Nina:

Metatron: “Do people ever ask for death?”

Nina: “What?”

Metatron: “The name of your establishment, ‘Give me coffee or give me death’ - I assume they always ask for coffee?”

Nina: “They don’t ever ask for death, no.”

Metatron: “I don’t suppose they do. So predictable.”

Death isn’t an option. “No” isn’t an option. Not to Aziraphale, who goes along with Heaven as best he can.

With Job, there was wiggle room to bend the rules and interpret things in Job’s behavior. Aziraphale lied but he didn’t outright refuse anyone. Technically, Crowley was the one who made the trick happen. Aziraphale only affirmed it.

During the Final Fifteen, Aziraphale had effectively just started a war. To quote Crowley, “Heaven won’t like that.” Then Voice of God personally came down and, rather than issuing a punishment for using his halo, the Metatron told Aziraphale he would be the new Supreme Archangel.

If God (or God’s voice) says so, then it must be. Aziraphale IS the new Supreme Archangel. The Supreme Archangel must reside in Heaven, so Aziraphale will go to Heaven. For an angel, there is no choice in that. I doubt it crosses Aziraphale’s mind that refusal mighty be an option. There is no option.

Aziraphale’s time on Earth is up. Maybe that is how he sees it. Nothing lasts forever, and he has to go. I doubt he wants to go alone though.

(gif still not mine)

If Crowley came with him, that would make Heaven more bearable. Making Crowley into an angel again might not be an “I can fix you” but a “this is the only way we can stay together.” It is not within Aziraphale’s new jurisdiction to refuse the call of the Lord, but it is within his jurisdiction to give a call of his own. I doubt any angel has the power to make a demon an angel again, so the Metatron was probably banking on the fact that Crowley doesn’t trust Heaven and would never willingly return there, but I also doubt Aziraphale knew that.

If you approach this from a perspective of no alternative, no choice for Aziraphale to stay or leave, only the choice for Crowley to join him or stay behind, then the response to “tell me you said no” was a very honest and genuine “I couldn’t.” Not because Aziraphale values Heaven over Crowley, but because he has no choice in the matter. He IS going to Heaven. He doesn’t see a way out of that.

Of course, Crowley does, and why wouldn’t he? He makes his ‘too late’ love confession, and when that doesn’t work outright, he tries to convince Aziraphale that he has a choice, that he can refuse, that he should refuse, that he ought to refuse.

One of the things I learned in a public speaking class (shoutout to Donna) is that if you’re trying to persuade someone, you can’t expect to get them to swing from one extreme to another. You have to know where your audience stands on the issue and aim to move them one, maybe two degrees towards your side at a time. If you want to change someone’s mind the easy way (talking to them instead of forcing them through an experience that changes their perspective), you have to go slow and steady. If you try to argue someone from one extreme to another, then all you’re likely to do is push them even further away from the stance you want them to take.

This was not a slow and steady persuasion. This was a last-ditch attempt at a long shot. Aziraphale had just started to separate himself from Heaven, enough that he stopped Armageddon with Crowley, but he wasn’t completely detached from them. They still sent Muriel to watch him, which implies that he’s still under Heaven’s control, even if he has gone rogue.

Aziraphale doesn’t see staying behind as an option. He cannot do it, it will not happen. He spends all that time trying to convince Crowley to come with him because that it is the only thing that will make this inevitable future bearable. He must go to Heaven, he will go to Heaven. When Crowley asks him if he said no, he doesn’t respond because this isn’t something he can say no to. It doesn’t occur to him, and he doesn’t consider any possibility…

…until Crowley kisses him.

This is only one example. He keeps turning around, keeps looking back. THAT is one step in the right direction. THAT was enough to make him hesitate, to wonder if maybe he could choose not to go to Heaven and that maybe he should. One fabulous kiss and now, all of a sudden, he’s second-guessing himself.

He still goes, but in the elevator, the Metatron tells Aziraphale about the Second Coming. Crowley figured this out earlier, and Aziraphale knows it now. That final look? Well, they both know how Crowley thinks the Big One will end. Heaven and Hell against Humanity.

In order for Crowley to succeed at stopping the Second Coming, Aziraphale would have had to stay with him. In order for Aziraphale to succeed at thwarting the Second Coming, Crowley would have had to come with him. They probably both feel like the other is abandoning them in their greatest time of need.

Here’s the thing, though: Aziraphale may be Supreme Archangel now, but he was Guardian of the Eastern Gate first and foremost. Aziraphale might stand by and watch Heaven and Hell fight, but the second Heaven turns against Humanity, ohhhhhh it’s over. He was only willing to kill Adam because he thought the rest of Humanity’s survival depended on it. He knows humans kill each other and die all the time, but the last time he’s watched a holy or unholy being kill people was the Flood, and that was God Herself doing it. If his captors fellow angels start killing humans as collateral for the Second Coming, then that will knock him over the edge.

And Heaven doesn’t want that. The Metatron gets Aziraphale in line before the Second Coming starts. If Aziraphale and Crowley team up (you know, the angel and demon who tried to subtly perform a double-half-miracle and instead produced a 25 Lazari smoke signal), it’s over. The day Heaven loses their grip on Aziraphale is the day Heaven loses.

I think Crowley’s kiss worked better than he thinks it did. It made Aziraphale doubt, and it walked him one step closer to turning around. Aziraphale’s protective Principality nature will take care of the rest, and as soon as Aziraphale realizes he has a choice, we all know the choice he will make. Crowley is an optimist. He’ll be there when Aziraphale figured it out.

He’ll be pissed off, but he’ll be there. They both will. Crowley is still on Their Side. My guess is that Aziraphale will go radio silent for an episode or so before he sabotages Heaven so bad that the only way they can recover is by teaming up with Hell. The second Crowley sees Heaven’s plan going up in flames, he’ll know his angel is behind it. He’ll know Aziraphale is on Their Side again.

[oscconfessions]

ok i have something to ACTUALLY CONFESS and i am so embarassed. It will be immediately obvious who I am but i do not care. this blog is lacking in actual embarassing confessions so let us rejoice in the fact this is. actually embarassing.

So i am the resident Zoetrope simp right. He is my second wife and I love him dearly. BUT THATS NOT THE EMBARASSING PART OH NO.

oh my fucking god Okay so like simultaneously I am a huge hater of people who automatically assume ‘oh? you like Zoetrope? Is it just cause his VA is Saberspark??’ LIKE NO. THERE IS SO MUCH MORE TO HIM THAN JUST HIS VA. And 90% of the time I even FORGET his VA. His voice in my brain does not sound like Saberspark ever. So it just annoys me when people automatically assume that. I just think Zoetrope is a silly guy. He has done no wrong (exceptthatonetime) and could do no wrong (exceptthatonetime). I have a special place in my heart for all the silly goober eccentric artist types. And also for the side characters who get zero appreciation. COME ON GUYS, HE IS LITERALLY A BLANK SLATE YOU CAN PROJECT WHATEVER LORE YOU WANT TO ONTO HIM AND IT WOULD STILL (probably) MAKE SENSE! Zoetrope yaoi? BASED! Zoetrope yuri? BASED! Zoetrope cishet? woah there bucko i dont think

ANYWAYS the actual confession.

So you know how when you’re asleep right. Yeah okay so I think my CONSCIOUS BRAIN and my UNCONSCIOUS BRAIN had a miscommunication.

I think my unconscious brain only heard ‘undying love’ and ‘saberspark’ and decided to tune ALL THE REST OF THAT BULLSHIT OUT because last night I had the most CURSED fucking dream where I was making out with saberspark. NOT LIKE THE PERSON. BUT THE FUCKING PNG. I AM STILL CRYING AND SHAKING VIOLENTLY AT THIS VERY MOMENT. WHAT DO I DO. HOW DID MY BRAIN FUCK IT UP THAT BADLY. IT FELT LIKE A FUCKING NIGHTMARE AND THEN I WOKE UP IN A COLD SWEAT.

I HAD TO APOLOGIZE TO MY 5 WIVES FOR CHEATING ON THEM WITH A SABERSPARK PNG.

Does anyone have any tips to make your dreams not fucked up or should I just lay off the melatonin. TIA

.

[mdhwrites]

Recently, I've been poring over the 'TOH critical' tags and, as someone who wanted to properly watch the show, seeing just how many flaws the writing and characters have kinda turned me off from even starting for a bit. Before I found these tags, I would have assumed Owl House was some kind of flawless untouchable masterpiece. Now, I can see that it is immensely flawed. Not bad, but flawed. It has great ideas that it just spaffs up the walls. In some cases that I've seen, it goes against its own message, which brings me to the point of this.

The show seems to have a message of 'be a weirdo! Be who you want to be and don't let anyone tell you to be something you're not'. This 'be yourself' message is fine in a vacuum, but then there's a character who's treatment in the show goes against this. Hooty! From the moment he's introduced, Hooty is presented as a weird creature. Even other people in the Demon Realm find him unnatural. He's kinda in his own world, and he says and does things that are weird. This would work well for the message, but the problem arises from other characters' treatment of him.

Everyone fucking HATES Hooty! They loathe him! They call him names, they hit him, they put him down constantly, the works! Everyone holds him in open contempt! I wouldn't really have an issue with this at first, but Luz also takes part in some of these actions. It would be one thing for negative/antagonistic characters to be doing this, but the self-proclaimed 'weirdo' main characters? She seems annoyed by Hooty's very existence. Don't get me wrong, he IS annoying, but he's also just being himself. He's a proud weirdo and doesn't let anyone stop him from being who he wants.

Why doesn't Luz love him?

He is exactly the type of person(?) who she should feel connected with. And the fact she joins in on some of the bullying is real shitty. Keep in mind Luz was ridiculed and ostracised for being weird, so her then turning around and being all dismissive and annoyed by someone who is, for all intents and purposes, just like her is shitty.

Personally, I would have had it that Luz really likes Hooty. She admires how he's so unapologetic in his weirdness. You could even still have Eda hitting him and calling him names, which Luz calls out. She knows what it's like to be put down for just being yourself, and she's not gonna stand to see someone else get the same treatment.

Or, another idea, Luz starts out sharing Eda's view on Hooty and being annoyed by him. One time, he does something or shows Luz something he's proud of. She calls him or it or both stupid, and Hooty just....cries. I don't mean overblown waterfalls-out-the-eyes crying, I mean he turns his head down and looks visibly upset.

Luz sees that her words have genuinely hurt Hooty. This could be her realising that Hooty isn't just some weird talking punching bag to hurl abuse at. For his weird actions and appearance, he's a person too. Her being mean to him just for being himself, she realises, makes her no better than her bullies.

Then, to make this even more shitty, the characters DO start being nicer to him later on, but only after he's proven himself useful. So that's a good message, isn't it? 'Love is conditional!' It really makes the 'found family' aspect of the Owl House residents feel all the more forced.

Tl;Dr It's okay to be a weirdo, unless you're Hooty!

(But that's just me! I hope all of this made sense and you can decipher what I'm trying to say😊)

So the short answer to this is that Hooty is essentially character/thematic assassination on... Everyone? Because the show wants to say "Be who you are! Have freedom! Express yourself!" Hooty however is constantly mocked, belittled and literally hurt by others with at best an apology. People treat his portable form as gross despite that letting him experience more of life and the one time people begrudgingly acknowledge he is truly good, they then force him to promise to not repeat the helpful behavior. He is not allowed freedom, expression or to be himself without ridicule, EVEN BY LUZ.

This... However has a bigger problem. Hooty is a bit character after all. If you want to claim he doesn't matter because he's just a joke... There's okay precedent for it. The problem is that then you have to ask what he's mocking. After all, gag characters are all about mocking a certain archtype or the like. King's whole point is to mock children who think themselves as self important and point out how deluded and funny that is, or how funny a deluded sense of self grandeur in general is, at least in the first season. As such... What is Hooty?

Hooty is Sheldon. Not literally but spiritually and this is gonna get kind of rough but here me out. For those who don't get the reference, Sheldon is the main autistic representation in The Big Bang Theory. He is also the most antagonistic force within the friend group. Not because he's evil or anything but because he his own certain ways of doing things and ways he looks at things and as such actually has a lot of episodes about expanding his perception of the world and of others learning to understand who he is and why he is the way he is. The show is actually shockingly respectful in this way, at least most of what I have seen of it, and I can portray this with the best joke I can recall from the series. It also will help me later in why The Big Bang Theory is better than TOH at one certain element people REALLY want to say TOH is great about.

The setup is that the other three main dudes are at a white board, discussing plans to go so see a movie. Every plan they devise runs into a road block because of allergies, time, etc. like that, not even only just because of Sheldon's quirks. However, then the lead, the Ross of the group, stops and goes, "I see it." The others squint and look closer before he adds, "It's the only way." The other two agree... And then they all just leave without Sheldon coming with. Sheldon pauses, looks at the board and goes, "They're correct. It was the only way."

I LOVE this joke... Because it's not mean AT ALL. One might think if they're overly sensitive that it is. I mean, how could they leave their friend behind!? But Sheldon is very honest and up front about his quirks and habits. These guys know him well enough that they know better than to force him out of his comfort zone. That he doesn't function that way. Sheldon KNOWS THIS TOO. As such, when presented with the options of telling Sheldon they can't go because they can't go without him or still having a good night and not making their friend feel bad for being why they couldn't go out, they choose to go out and Sheldon agrees that it was the correct option. They respected him while still living their lives.

And this is because The Big Bang Theory's pitch is not to be offensive to nerds like many online people like to make it out to be (I fucking hate people who call it 'Nerd Black Face') but to just make fun of us like any sitcom would. Sitcoms are parodies of real life. They always exaggerated characters we know are somewhat true. We know a Kramer, we know a Ross, we know a Barney, we know a Lorraine. Are they exactly like this? No, it's cranked up so that it's a comedy, that's the fucking point. But this comedic framing also allows it to be honest about ALL sides of nerd dom.

Sheldon is BY FAR made out to be the most successful, intelligent and wealthiest of ALL the guys. Also, all the guys are doing well in their fields and monetarily. Do they have widespread fame and acclaim? Not really but they're not discredited or anything, they just have interdepartmental bickering. That's accurate from literally every scientist I have seen talk about the subject. It's genuine about the good and the bad of the nerd experience while being entertaining.

So what the fuck does any of this have to do with The Owl House? And especially Hooty? It's actually quite simple. While TOH champions having a nerd protagonist, it presents the 'gentrified nerd'. The convenient nerd. They know about fanfiction but won't force you to actually hear about it. They have interests but not hyperfixations. They don't ever get lost down a rabbit hole because they're passionate about something or just want to tell you a neat fact.

Do you know who does though? Hooty. Hooty just wants someone who is willing to listen about his day. He has some weird quirks to how he behaves and he likes some strange things like bugs. He will talk to you for hours on a subject, randomly and just because he can and might forget that you might have other things to do. To me, those are very, VERY accurate parts of nerd life... And we're supposed to fucking HATE Hooty for these things. Remember the only person, in the ENTIRE SERIES to actually befriend Hooty instead of treating him at best as a convenience is Liltih... At the start of her becoming a joke. The only person who shows him real, genuine compassion... Also becomes 'The Cool Aunt' who hyper fixates on niche architecture and has her trauma of working the EC mocked as just being really bad at her job.

It is, genuinely, kind of gross to me. I've actually talked about this before that the show is so hyperfocused on a very specific, very small set of people for who it approves of, which is essentially whoever fits into Luz correctly, that anyone who felt excluded by the show is extremely valid. And yes, Luz has a montage at the start of silly, over the top and extreme behavior... That doesn't continue. At all. The one time she subjects someone to an Azura rant is to torture Eda enough to go to the Convention and that's only because they were already on the subject because King was interested. She quotes Azura but quickly and doesn't lose the thread. She might say a cute word like 'Snorses' but not even enough to make a break in the conversation.

She is convenient. Gus is only interested in human stuff when it's convenient. Willow will put aside her interest in plants when it's inconvenient. Amity just stops giving a shit about being an intellectual AT ALL post her getting a crush. Hunter wears a wolf t-shirt and gets into Cosmic Frontier enough to cosplay it for Halloween... But only Halloween. These are people who are extremely socially acceptable in every way.

Which... explains why nerds love them actually. See, I think Big Bang Theory does deserve criticism, it is by no means perfect and I would be VERY interested in hearing what the Jewish community thinks of Howard who is easily the most problematic character in the show but not all of the criticism is genuine. I think a lot of it comes down to the fact that we're used to a side, gag character representing the kind worst parts of us... But we're not used to being the focus. We can laugh at all the broke bitches who show up in Sitcoms or the jock failures who are meatheads, etc. like that... But laugh at ourselves? Why would we do that? Why would we allow that? We're better than what this show depicts, even if we're not.

It is inconvenient to the narrative we wish to tell ourselves that we are still the outcasts. That are we not part of the dominant culture and so it is unfair to mock our interests and lifestyle. But like... Marvel movies have been the biggest blockbusters for well over a decade and no one bats a fucking at that. D&D is quickly becoming a household name due to its ever expanding influence. We are not the outcasts anymore. Being into a weird cartoon is not some shocking thing like it was 12 years ago when Bronies first made people aware that this subculture of nerds existed. Times are changing but we still wish to see ourselves as only the victims, even as more and more our spaces show that they are just as evil, corrupt, manipulative and cruel as any athletic superstar or pretty boy actor's club.

A lot of these nerds want to believe they are Luz. Never wrong, never giving anyone a reason to dislike them, and always just passionate about the things they like, never annoying. And you know who those people would mock? Who those people HAVE mocked?

Hooty. Because he's more real. He's the demon they wish they didn't have to face in the mirror. See you next tale.

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I really do want to re-emphasize this: FUCK HOWARD. Big Bang is NOT good for the jewish community and I don't think if I watched it nowadays I would be able to tolerate his depiction AT ALL. Also, Raj is also probably all sorts of rough too. I'm ONLY defending the nerd portrayal part of Big Bang.

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