#theoretically including people if they stay still long enough

[iamearthy]

i should probably post this here too... just some silly concept art for a creature that could live in the let-vand zone

something i wanted to include but couldn't fit in the image was that these fish would be somewhat uncommon around the Hadal Blacksite to the overwhelming number of Vultus Limunaria / Searchlights, whose hooks i imagine are strong enough to puncture even their thick skin. inspired primarily by southern cavefish, whale sharks, and hagfish

[princema-k]

i would actually love to hear your thoughts on when layton would emote the ways you've drawn him! if you want! no pressure if not!

OH B OY HERE WE GO!!!!! again take everything with a grain of salt bc i Forgor bits of the series

BLANKET SPOILER FOR UNWOUND FUTURE/MIRACLE MASK MAYBE??/AZRAN LEGACY

(for reference we are talking abt this post)

SURPRISE: As we know in the PL series, it's very very hard to catch the professor off-guard in any way. Most of the things you would think would surprise him, he's already known for a long time and was just keeping quiet about it so that he could use that information at the right time.

With that being said, the times where he does seem to get somewhat surprised (or taken aback. he's so goddamn emotionally constipated) seem to be when the shocker in question has personal relation to him. Though in the series proper, none of the shocking personal factoids are ever presented in a way to make him jump. So theoretically, if any twists like Claire or Descole's reveal were presented much more aggressively, he might emote like how I've drawn him (though I kinda doubt it). Or just jumpscare him lmao

SADNESS: Obviously we know that Layton can feel sadness and cry, though even at the end of Unwound Future it's clear that he's still holding back with his crying. I'd wager that it's because he's out in public and around an impressionable individual (Luke) that he's not letting himself fully express his grief. After all, a true gentleman never makes a scene in public.

I'd say, if he were to cry like the way I've drawn him (that is, bawling his eyes out), it'd probably be at the end of UF when Luke leaves for America, and he'd have to be alone. And I mean completely alone. He'd be very careful about having anyone even remotely near him before he breaks down sobbing; he'd wait for Luke to go home, and wait a while to make sure that he hears no other footsteps around who could potentially walk in on him, before crying. And even then, he'd still repress it - trying to choke back sobs to make sure he isn't heard, pulling the brim of his hat over his eyes and covering his eyes with his hand, the works. Because sadness/crying is weakness to him, and a true gentleman can never show weakness.

ANGER: Frankly, I feel like this is one of the emotions I've drawn that I actually could see him showing in the series proper. We've seen him in Unwound Future just barely holding back his anger at Clive when he endangered Flora/started wrecking havoc on London (obviously still restrained- yadda yadda yadda "true gentleman" blah blah blah).

To get him to unrestrain it, I'd say you would have to put a lot of people he cares about (particularly his wards - Luke and Flora would likely be excellent choices) in direct danger, as well as taunt him to a personal degree enough times. Because even the Professor has limits to how much mental strain he can take, and all limits can be broken. It's just a matter of pushing the right (or wrong!) buttons on him.

FEAR: This one's tough I think. As an adult who's seen a lot (including his own death), it's pretty hard to find something that would really scare him to that degree. Throughout the series the most he seems to show in terms of fear is either: a) surprise that he quickly recovers from, or b) the end of Unwound Future when he realizes that Claire can't stay with him.

I say that theoretically (and REALLY emphasize on the "theoretically"), you might be able to get him to emote the way I've drawn him... if you subject him to anything akin to his recently unrepressed memories of his childhood, and he's rendered helpless to do anything to help but watch. But like I said, only theoretically. I'd wager that he'd probably just be angry too.

LAUGHTER: ...I honestly have no good clue to how or when he'd emote like this. For him to laugh so heartily, he'd have to be in a state of extreme emotional vulnerability, which isn't often.

I'd say it'd be at a time where he's feeling very relieved, or elated (and they'd both have to be situations that connect to him personally too; outside events won't phase him). How he'd laugh to such an extent I'm not actually sure, BUT I could paint a bit of a scenario: It's the end of UF, but Claire could actually stay without dying, and she makes a sort of lighthearted joke in light of the events. Would he laugh wholeheartedly? I dunno. But judging on what we've seen of him, it's a maybe.

It's a shame we never get to see him emote so colourfully in the hexalogy proper, but as I've stated before in another long-winded half-legible ramble character analysis, he's SEVERELY repressing his emotions due to Claire's last words/"gentleman" values/positive reinforcements from his peers and environments for successfully hiding his emotions. Poor guy.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Erin/Julius, grudge match

For the prompt: Julius' exit from the Oilers

Julius was never going to stay. Erin doesn’t really know how anyone could have expected otherwise. Sure, she knows the expectation, that if you’re a franchise saviour you stay with the franchise, give it your all, saw that play out with Bryce even though fans acted like he was team whipping boy instead of franchise saviour half the time.

But the thing is, the Oilers have been beyond saving for the entire time Julius has been there. There’s only so much one guy can do, no matter how good they are. And Julius is so good, and he tries so hard. Everything he can do, he has done, nobody could say otherwise, doesn’t slack off on the ice in any game situation, works to win the team games. But they don’t win, most games. They don’t win, because they’ve got a mismanaged team and what the old boys club might call a loser culture. Nobody’s expecting to win games, the players included, and they’re usually right.

Erin’s not like, saying that out loud any time soon, but whatever. It’s true. She likes some of the Oilers as people, has a game buddy in Farmer’s girlfriend, who is one of the funniest people she’s ever met. She likes the city okay, close enough to pop in on mom and dad but far enough they don’t really pop in on her, except for the occasional visit when the Canucks come to town, because Jared’s indisputably their favourite child. There’s nothing personal about Julius’ decision to move on, on his end or hers.

Well, mostly. Erin’s never understood how Deslauriers has kept his job so long, considering he hasn't made the Oilers any better, but they’re not worse, not that that’s saying much. Unfortunately he’s still in charge of the whole operation, and she’s a teensy bit biased against him due to the whole being raging homophobe who tried to destroy her brother’s life because he was gay thing.

Like, just a smidge. Giving the TV the middle finger every time they show his face level. Julius has been smart enough never to introduce them level. Erin’s the only one allowed to destroy her brother’s life, and she sure as shit would never do that because of Bryce, who’s like, the best thing about Jared. By far Jared’s best life decision, full stop, was somehow winning over Bryce Marcus despite his horrible personality.

Well, after adopting Julius. Erin’s pretty grateful for that one, to be honest.

The summer before Julius’ contract expires, he goes into contract talks, though he has zero intention of staying. The talk is basically ‘thanks, but no thanks'.

Erin has no clue why it takes so many meetings to get that across; maybe they’re being too polite about it, or the Oilers are being a little too obtuse, because ‘no thank you’ is three words, as are ‘please trade me’. But after those talks end Oilers management doesn’t say anything to the media except that ‘they’re working on something that works for both parties’, which must be difficult, considering Julius’ current ask is ‘no amount of money will make me stay’, which she’s pretty sure is hard to match.

Or like. Maybe there is enough money. Theoretically, there could be a magic number of money. Like, a mindboggling amount of money might do it. But they haven’t offered him it. They’ve offered him fair value, market rate, but the thing about market value is that the market’s going to offer him that too, and testing the market means he doesn’t have to play for Edmonton anymore.

But nobody gets it. Going into his final contract season, the media’s talking about how much it’ll take to re-sign him, how sweet a deal they’ll have to make it, and she almost wishes that someone would leak the fact he isn’t going to stay so that fans would feel a little less betrayed down the line. But apparently the Oilers front office is a tight ship, or they’re still firmly in denial, hoping Julius is going to change his mind.

Erin’s never seen Julius change his mind on anything big. Or even little. He hates watermelon. He’s never actually tried watermelon, but he’s decided he hates it, so obviously trying it would be silly. This is the person they’re expecting to change his mind. The person Erin has debated force feeding watermelon, because he thinks it tastes like watermelon flavour and nothing tastes like watermelon flavour, she doesn’t know what the fuck watermelon flavour tastes like, but it is not watermelon.

Anyway, he doesn’t change his mind. Shockingly.

A week before the trade deadline Erin walks in the door to find Julius sitting at the dining room table in the half dark of twilight, chin on his fist. He looks like a stock photo: ‘sad man brooding’ or ‘gloomy Finn’ or something, so defeated that Erin doesn’t have the heart to give him shit. Well, almost. She wouldn’t want him to get a big head or anything.

“Pretending you’re the protagonist in a sad indie movie, huh?” Erin asks.

“I don’t know that one, protagonist,” Julius says, then, when she turns the overhead light on, “Ow!”

“Main character syndrome,” Erin says, as Julius squints at her, looking betrayed. He’s not a vampire — he’ll survive a little light.

“Is that what you said Jared has?” Julius asks, and Erin laughs. She can’t even remember saying that, though it must have been years ago. Years ago Erin was right, though.

“Probably,” Erin says, leaning on the table so Julius is forced to look at her instead of into the abyss or whatever. “What’s up?”

“They’re going to boo me for the rest of my career,” Julius says.

“Flames fans don’t even boo Bryce anymore,” Erin says. “Rest of your career’s a stretch.”

“That isn’t true,” Julius says.

“Okay, they don’t boo like, every time he has the puck,” Erin says. That’s basically the same, right? He has to earn the boos by scoring, or assisting, or holding onto the puck a little too long, or — anyway, they boo a whole lot less than they did initially, which is her point. People have short memories, and, more importantly, they’re lazy. Hating someone takes too much energy, long term. They’ll have found someone else to hate by then — some other poor, talented kid doing his best while he’s stuck on a team with no ambition.

“Have they traded you?” Erin asks.

“I think they’re about to,” Julius says.

“Like gut feeling or—“ Erin says.

“My agent told me to keep my phone close,” Julius says.

So probably actually about to, then. She knew it was coming, unless Deslauriers was stupid and stubborn enough to keep Julius until the end, let him walk for free. Which she wouldn’t put past the guy or anything, but still. It was coming.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” Erin says.

“I know,” Julius says.

“You want this,” she says. Getting traded at the deadline, people get a chance to get used to him in another uniform. If he stays until the end, the Oilers don’t get anything for him, but the Oilers fans are going to expect him to stay, hate him if he doesn't. Even more than they will this way, she means.

“I do,” Julius says. “You’ll come with me, right?”

“As long as it’s to a decent city, sure,” Erin says, and the offence on his face is exactly what he deserves for asking such a ridiculous fucking question in the first place.

[unexpectedbrickattack]

What do you think is the huggability score of our main characters + Brick out of 10?

Putting this under a readmore bc this is some EXTREME Research happening here

Peppino: 6/10. Hes short and hes fat and warm and soft so theoretically he SHOULD be a solid 10/10. But he sweats easily and i think physical contact would make him explode so hes shakes like a leaf the entire time. He will not return the hug well but he WILL make an attempt. If you catch him at a good time, hes got the perfect hugs. But maybe bring a napkin or two.

Pepperman: 1/10. Hes too gotdam big. He would love to be able to hug properly but hes very. Wide. And if he does manage to hug you properly, you will end up directly inbetween his eyes and unnervingly close to his teeth. This is also assuming he Wants to hug people; hes got better things to do. Like sculpt and draw and do rich people things like vacationing on a yacht or gaslighting poor people. (The actual pepperman portrait for the boss fight is very cute looking and i give that a 7/10 just bc i can. Hes got a lil painters apron; the whole fit makes him look huggable)

Vigilante: 3/10. It depends on your tolerance for odd textures. Hes just cheese. Hes cheese! Hes a bit sticky; he never leaves residue but the stickiness can be a bit offputting. Hes remarkably dense, so hugging him would be like hugging a memory foam mattress; wonderful pressure pushing against u but again. The texture… He would be a good weighted blanket; thats not a hug but do what you will with this information

The Noise: 7/10. He is small 🥺 Assuming the hug is earnest and Not a ploy to lower your guard, you are just hugging a Small Person. And we (small people) give the best hugs you can possibly have. But only if you let us hug around ur neck and not the midsection; he (we) cant wrap our arms around that. Points deducted bc the noise is just a menace and hed use a hug as an opportunity to chuck a potion of Explode Your House and then ur house Explodes.

Fake Peppino: 10/10. He can change shape and density at will; whatever you look for in a hug, he can do it. Light? Hes as delicate as a flower. Tight? Coiled like a snake. Dont like the goopy texture? For the time it takes to make this hug happen; the texture is Gone. This man Loves Hugs and with practice, has learned to give the Best hugs. As long as u dont mind his face and the odd way his skin seems to warp and bend in front of you.

Pizzahead: 2/10. TECHNICALLY capable of good hugs. Tall, long arms, friendly disposition. Massive point reduction bc hes doing one armed hugs to try and befriend you so he can sell you on this pyramid scheme he just Knows ur going to knock right out of the ballpark. Weaponized Hugs. Put him in Jail.

Gustavo: 9/10. Hes a gnome. Hes hairy and short and he always ALWAYS goes for the arms around the neck bc hes like 3’ tall. He is strong and so all hugs are tighter than you expect them to be and that can be good or bad depending on ur preference. He is also Small and Compact so hes very warm :) Solid hugs :)

Brick: 5/10. VERY pet-able!!! Imagine a rat but just Big. Hes SOFT and hes got Luscious Fur and wonderful little rat hands. But hugs are either 10/10 (rat owners dream) or 1/10 (texture hell). Hugs can be suffocating. Brick does Typical Rat Movements which includes snuffling your head very rapidly. Whiskers tickle. Rat Hands tickle. Brick MAY nibble at your head (beware). You wont be able to wrap your arms around this beast which may be a dealbreaker to some. But assume that this rat both Loves and Craves little huggles, so he is always an eager hugger :)

Noisette: 10/10. All the positives of Noise but without possible mischievous intent. She may fall asleep in your arms since she will be forced to stay still for longer than 2 seconds. Its endearing though.

Gerome: 7/10. Hes like Clay to me, like a block of playdoh. Tough enough to keep his shape, but soft enough that it doesnt Hurt to hug him. Hes not very soft or comfortable BUT hes got Intent behind his hugs. Hed only hug someone if they needed to be comforted and hes Very good at that. Very solid and grounding hugs if youre willing to hug a Block.

Snotty: 3/10. Smelly. So fucking smelly. Ranked higher than Pizzahead just to spite that twink.

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

The Keep Your Enemies Close (in regards to Fergie) seems to be the aristocratic MO. People want to be around people with power and keeping those who could say a lot of shit close is best for those with power. It seems like a smart thing: if someone knows you, you keep them close instead of letting things go to shit. See Chelsy at William and Kate's wedding. Beyond knowing them, better to keep her close than have her feel slighted and talk about Harry/spilling any shit about him.

Zara/Peter and the Yorks going forward: I wonder if they might accompany Kate to a day at Wimbledon or those types of events where she tends to bring a private guest. And something like the carol concert or the Jubilee events show how you can have family at official events and still have a line between working and family.

Slimmed down monarchy is probably what we are seeing now, but only add on all of the King's children. You have the king's mainline, so all his children. We saw that with the queen as well. However, you will not have all his children's children participate. It is only the heirs children. So if Harry and Meghan had stayed it would have been: Charles/Camilla, Anne, Edward/Sophie (Queen's kids/king and his siblings), William/Kate, Harry/Meghan and then when they are older George/Charlotte/Louis. The issue with taking out the siblings is kids take a long time to be old enough to do things independently and the siblings can fill that gap.

The next step in slimming down the monarchy is only the heirs line can become prince/princess. So George's theoretical children, but not Charlotte's and Louis's. Its for the best for the kids and as seen with Zara/Peter, it doesn't mean you aren't included as an adult. It is actually more freeing than having the title.

I agree, but we are seeing the problem with that "keep your enemies close" strategy. They got Sandringham and Wood Farm and now they want the HRH and settlement renegotiations, etc... I doubt they will go to Wimbledon. They will probably go to fashion events (Yorkies) and horse events (Zara). They seem to be doing this on a case-by-case basis, based on the family member's personal interests. It takes a while for the kids to be ready. True. I think that's where they are heading, but they need to do a better job preparing the kids and grandkids for more independence. Anne did a great job with her kids. That should be the model. I think Will and Kate's kids and grandkids will have an easier times than other royal children because they will have the non-royal Middleton cousins around and royal status won't be their only benchmark.

[impishglee]

ok this just turned into a long ramble abt greywaren being not good and i’m sure this has all already been said but the thing is is that i was not ready to have feelings about greywaren when everyone else was having greywaren feelings so she is going under the cut

:readmore:

the thing abt greywaren that gansey- “these books aren’t about fucking gansey!!!” ok. listen. hear me out. so like: theoretically, maybe, the events of the dreamer trilogy could happen bc gansey’s points of connection to the current cast consist of lynch’s and a parrish and none of them are good at communicating or asking for help. sure. i will give you that. do i have a hard time buying that gansey (anxious abt his friends wellbeing that it can verge on being controlling and in possession of more money than he knows what to do with) would not be able to get a hold of ronan for an extended period of time while a weird string of terrorism happened without having a panic attack and getting in a helicopter? no

but let’s say that maybe sarchengsey road-trip is so chaotic and full of more immediate problems that even gansey can’t go hunt ronan down and make sure he’s not doing something that will get him killed. i am willing to begrudgingly accept this. here is really where it loses me in a way i cannot rationalize

hennessy turns off the ley line; one of two things happen.

gansey, a living magical forest that is also a dead boy, passes out like all the other dreams (including robo-bee, which will quickly connect dots on the cause of gansey’s sudden coma.) henry and blue know enough about magic dream ley line bullshit that there is no way they would not seek out ronan and adam. especially if it means ronan might be dead. which is the precedent they have for sudden dream creature comas.

gansey stays awake for some reason (he is a whole ass forest and also a dead kid, the camaro is a sweet metal, etc) but the ley line still goes obviously dead (the camaro won’t drive, robo-bee again, it’s literally on the news) which again. their first order of business would be getting a hold of ronan and adam.

i really really really was trying to extend the dreamer trilogy as much grace as possible for putting some of my beloved characters in the backseat. i was doing my best. but like, when you create a cast of characters who are all entangled in a magical world, all have different histories with it and ways it affects their lives and identities and also write really moving and strong friendships between them, it makes it seem extremely weird to banish half of them to a road trip where for some reason they would not get a hold of their dear friends and some of the only people they know who are in the know about magical bullshit when magical bullshit goes down.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

The Fringe website has announced a lot more shows! So I got very fucking excited because for the first time I get to pick through those shows, not just for theoretical information but because I can actually go see them!

Edinburgh Fringe run has been announced, my (very) long list of people I might possibly wish to see:

People who haven’t yet announced runs and could possibly go and I’d be interested in seeing it if they did – some of these are very likely to announce a run, a few are very unlikely and putting them on a list at all is wildly optimistic: Andy Zaltzman, Daniel Kitson, Huge Davies, Jessica Fostekew, John Kearns, Josie Long, Kiri Pritchard-McLean, Lazy Susan, Mark Watson, Michael Legge, Nick Helm, Paul Sinha, Rhod Gilbert, Rhys James, Robin Ince, Sam Campbell, Sarah Kendall, Shelf, Stewart Lee, The Delightful Sausage

Have either said they’re not going, or announced their run and it doesn’t include the dates I’m there: Ahir Shah, Alice Fraser, Amy Gledhill, Andrew O'Neill, Fern Brady, Paul Foot, Tim Key, I don't know if John Robins has actually said he's not going but he's said he's retired Howl and I think it's safe to assume he's not doing a new one the very next year

Already booked: David O’Doherty

Conclusion: ...Have I mentioned that I'm going to have five full days in Edinburgh? Arguably it's not enough days. It's the beauty of a long-list, I guess. Anything can go on it. But not everything can stay on it. This is like that post I made the other day about how I hate being forced to narrow down my favourites to answer hypothetical questions. Except it's not hypothetical. I should possibly have tried to get more days off work.

That is a very long list, some will get cut on grounds such as I've already heard the show (except in some special cases where I would pay to see a hundred versions of a show that good, Nish Kumar), or that I'm pretty sure it'll be filmed. But still. I may have been optimistic to think five days was enough. Although the amount of time I did book off work - which was only 4 days because it incorporates weekends and a holiday Monday and a previous week when I'll be in London and didn't need to book those days off because my workplace shuts down for the last week of July - got me told I can't book any more days off for the entire rest of 2024.

I didn't even add a column for ticket price because I don't care. Not that I have enough money so I shouldn't care, but ticket prices will end up being quite a small proportion of the total amount of money I spend on this trip, and by the time I actually go I'll have been saving for it for over a year, and at this point, I'm willing to spend some extra money on making a trip where I see the most shows that I want to see. The most crucial column has ended up being the start time, as I'm less concerned about the cost in dollars (in pounds... oh right, must look into how exchanging currency works), and more in the opportunity cost of how much other stuff I'm missing if I book a show.

I haven't been this excited about something in a very, very long time.

[beholdthemem]

Y'know, I feel like even if the 1986 school year had been completely uneventful and gone off without a hitch, Chrissy still would've dumped Jason.

Not because of Eddie. Not because she discovered 'Oh, maybe I'm into girls'. Honestly, not even because of Jason himself.

I think Jason was never aware of it, but he and Chrissy's relationship had had a time limit placed on it for a while- because Chrissy's number one goal was to get the fuck out of Hawkins, and a romantic relationship was not conducive to that at all.

Part of playing a character that won't be around long while still giving them depth is to build who they are as a person off screen- who they are, what they're like, what they want. Even if half that shit never makes it to air, YOU knowing that about your character helps you portray a human being rather than a cardboard cutout. There's a personality to draw from. There's unspoken experiences that created that personality. During a brief period of time last summer when people weren't being anal worms for no goddamn reason, Chrissy's actress did a Q&A, giving us a chance to learn some of those things. Including:

(Weirdly cropped, I know, but I didn't know if the question asker would want their url included or not, and didn't wanna be rude. At any rate-)

Maybe season 5 will roll around and it'll turn out I'm wrong, but based on what we know of Laura, I really have trouble believing she would've just let Chrissy go. Chrissy's Vecna visions showed her being trapped inside that house. A recurring theme was her inability to get away.

Jason didn't know there was anything wrong in Chrissy's home life. If she was planning to leave as soon as she graduated, anyone she wanted to stay in contact with afterwards would have to be well aware why she was going, and why it needed to be a secret- loose lips sink ships. Anybody who didn't realize there was a reason not to talk about Chrissy's post-grad plans in front of Laura ran the risk of destroying of destroying her exit before she even had a chance to use it. If Jason didn't know about Laura, I don't think he knew about anything.

I do believe Chrissy cared about him. Not in a marriage/children/white-picket-fence-future kind of way, the way he seemed to think about her- but it sounded like there was some affection there. She wasn't willing to risk her safety, sanity and future to stay with him (because he seemed to have pretty positive associations with both Hawkins and the people living there, and I don't think he would've been willing to cut them off. Staying with Jason meant that no matter how many miles she ran, there would ALWAYS be an avenue for Chrissy's parents to get to her again) but she didn't want to put him through his girlfriend disappearing on him with no explanation. So... break up. If it was done early enough in the school year, it would theoretically give him enough time to heal and move on. He'd be able to pursue his life, and she'd be able to pursue hers.

Now, whether or not that ended up being how he reacted to the break up in PRACTICE is a different story. Jason is obsessive. If Chrissy dumped him, there would have to be a reason, and no matter what she told him to the contrary, I cannot see him accepting the idea that there wasn't someone else. He needs a bad guy. When something goes wrong, he needs someone to oppose. Prior to Spring Break, Chrissy might not have been in a position to see that side of him (The fact that Vecna tormented her exclusively through her parents make me think that whatever issues she and Jason may or may not have had, he never actively contributed to her trauma) but if she'd lived long enough to end their relationship, I suspect he would have made himself into a big fucking problem.

[otp-armada]

Having seen the Daphne/Charlie kiss, I am unbothered and unmoved.

I think Charlie cares for Daphne insofar as she has divulged enough humanity for him to recognize a kindred spirit on some level.

But Charlie was stiff as a board during the kiss, the passion one-sided, with him pulling away almost as quickly as she initiated it. Why?

Four reasons.

One, because to get romantically involved with a member of the criminal enterprise he just dug himself and his family out of their reluctant tangential association with is an all-around bad idea.

Two, to be with Daphne fully aware of her ambitions via illegal means is the stark opposite of the straight and narrow life he's considering leading.

Three, Charlie is an honorable man with a good heart who balks at the duplicity of giving into intimacy with Daphne when he's aiding in a conspiracy to incriminate her.

Four, because of Emma.

"If he can't see you - I mean, like, really see you, appreciate that - I say, screw him, you know?," is a line Charlie says to Daphne to ease the sting from her father's rejection of her. Beneath the contextual surface, coupled with the frustration he unloads at Emma for her (allegedly, to him) continued blind eye to his motives, his overtures are not about Daphne. It is not Daphne he wants to understand him; it's a plea for Emma to see him, see that his love for her is and has always been genuine, secrecy notwithstanding.

Here, with Daphne, Charlie is his usual reserved self. With Emma? Whatever tight lid he tamped down on his emotions to stay focused blew clean off with the force of a lit match in a gas leak. She has always been the one to unravel him.

I do feel sorry for Daphne. Underneath her dispassionate bravado is a woman seeking familial love. It is tragic for her to experience the double whammy of the one person in her vicinity who seems to care for her rejecting her, too, before learning he's been working against her with the feds. Though her feelings are clearly hurt, sympathy for Daphne isn't inspiring me to ship her with Charlie.

Despite the muddied waters of mistrust and misunderstanding keeping Emma and Charlie from reconnecting, he loves her, and she loves him, and so they are whom I am rooting for.

As a matter of romantic chemistry, a few silent seconds of tense longing gazes shared between Emma and Charlie surpass whole episodes of Daphne and Charlie working cons for me. I still believe that, not only do Emma and Charlie hold the key to each other's happiness, they can shape each other into better people. If nothing else, their love is as present and visceral as ever, obstacles immaterial. And that further helps me settle the question of whom to ship.

Daphne and Charlie make an effective team when their interests align for the job they're working on, and it's been good seeing her open up about her past and current turmoil as she navigates a family unwilling to welcome her as their own. As long as they stay on the same side, I'd like to see them become genuine friends. They do have an interesting push-pull to their dynamic (even more so when the Morality Gradient Comparison includes Emma as a data point), but it isn't one I want to see a romantic relationship emerge from.

I guess one's interest depends on a matter of perspective intrigue. Do you prefer to potentially watch Charlie influence Daphne to her better angels (or Daphne appeal to the devil on his shoulder), or would you rather theoretically see Emma and Charlie harness the good in each other and work through the flaws as an honest couple?

When put in those terms, I suppose Daphne/Charlie is a fair dynamic to want to see play out through the complexities of a romantic angle.

For me, though, pound for pound, it's still Team Hiletti all the way.

[toasty-owoasty]

hi! i'm coming for your ace attorney/homestuck aus. you cannot hide in the tags. talk about them >:3

(only if you want ofc, no pressure, just a lot of interest)

lmao well if you insist~

(also shout out to my good buddy @jayljester / @jaylillustrates for being the main person I bounced ideas off of for this back in like.. 2020/2021 you should check them out their art is phenomenal)

so as I said before, there's actually three days. in order from least to most developed they are:

-attorneystuck

-turnabout alternia

-ace legislacerators

attorneystuck is your classic "what if x characters played sburb" story. have not thought much of it past that

turnabout alternia is a theoretical case wherein normal phoenix wright (and probably some other characters idk) get translated to alternia and have to defend one of the trolls (probably karkat) in a trial. I have no other details on this but terezi is probably either the prosecutor or the weird girl. think turnabout storm but instead of horses it's Homestuck.

ace legislacerators is the most developed & my favorite of the three. the idea behind it is sort of a rewrite of the ace attorney story line but on alternia? specifically an au alternia where humans and trolls live together. the impacts of this in society include reforms such as murder being actually illegal and frowned upon due to human influences, adults staying on alternia, trolls having actual family units, jobs such as legislacerator not actually being limited to one caste, etc etc. these changes are not pretty recent, probably being first implemented around/shortly before the tgaa era.

I feel I should also mention that by no means is the caste system gone. lower castes are still widely treated like garbage, and higher castes are still treated very well

for fun, here's a list of castes for the characters as I remember them bc again I have barely thought about this au in years :p (under the read more bc this post is already long)

Phoenix: indigo blood/human hybrid, explains why he's hardy enough to be able to withstand all the stuff he does

Edgeworth: Violet blood, he fishie :)

Larry: token human. just a normal guy.

Gumshoe: olive blood. I mean his jacket is already the perfect color

Von Karma: the von karma's are all teal bloods! they also hold the idea that as teals they are "natural hatched legislacerators" (aka Manfred is hemophobic despite not even being in that high of a caste)

Godot: as Diego Armando, he was a rust blood. but when he was poisoned they ended up filling him with teal blood! so diego=burgundy, godot=teal

Apollo: Apollo is a rust! he has normal horns AND hair horns so some people think he's a gold and get scared of his supposed psionics.

Gavin: If I recall correctly, the Gavins are both purple bloods. clown Gavins teehee. (klavier is probably more into the messiahs than kristoph, but I think both of them are very low-key about it)

Trucy: I don't actually remember trucy's caste but I *think* she was a burgundy? would make sense given. events. as well as her outfit as a kid being red.

Athena: She's an actual gold with psionics :) I never drew her, but my design concept for her involved her having four eyes, one for each color of the mood matrix.

Blackquill: I don't actually remember having one for him. Uhhhhh.. Ummm. Cobalt? yeah sure cobalt. taka is his "lusus" (even though lusii aren't actually parental figures anymore in this universe, they're more like pets but still have parental instincts)

Judge: purple blood. clown judge lol.

FEYS/KUHRA'IN ROYAL FAMILY:

so they're a special case. all people capable of spirit channeling or descendants of spirit channelers are a secret 13th caste... lavenders! in terms of hierarchy, lavenders would fall between violet and fuchsia (yes they are sea dwellers), but are generally unknown due to being mutants and also being a very very small caste. only some lavenders can channel spirits, just like how only some cobalts can mind control, only some burgundies have telekinesis, & only some golds have psionics. so yeah. all the feys are fish ladies :) (to explain why dahlia was able to cut ties from the feys, she simply just faked being a violet, shrimple as that)

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: Everything is so hard right now.

Amoung the other things that broke last week was my bedroom phone which I need to work so I don't have to lever myself out of bed half asleep and wobble into my office area to answer the endless stream of medical and bureaucratic call people insist on constantly making while I'm asleep. I can afford a new one. The emergency back up is the phone that made it a tough twenty years, but now doesn't send the medical autodialers the digit 1 so they will stop calling me over and over. I swapped it in anyway as the crappy office handset I got used a few years back doesn't ring loud enough to be head over my bed room air filter.

This means I need to remember to carry the office phone in so I can answer that one when the first one rings. except that one has to be connected to the call the EMTs device on my desk. And all the handling has broken the plastic piece on the end of the cord so it randomly falls out. Also if i don't remember to move the panic box onto my office chair the phone won't reach and the box will fall panic box side down calling the paramedics. Sigh.

I forgot to carry the phone in twice which is how I discovered the intermittent fault on the old phone that cuts my voice out to the person I was talking to. If my car hadn't been broken I could have gotten a cheap used one at a second hand store, but that' out too.

I absolutely hate the new arm exercises. I am doing them anyway because I need an arm that will work post surgery. It's twice a day and I am being a grown up about it. i can absolutely see why these exercises. They are even noticeably working a little already. They still wear me the fuck out and I hurt and hurt and hurt. (It's not bad pain wise doing them, no worse than anything I have to do, but I stiffen up later and my general pain level will rise). I have to stay up for Thursday morning torture appointment regardless of how wiped I am because I'm getting bad shakes every time I'm not allowed enough sleep and then startled awake and I need to not have my entire neurological/muscular system freaking the fuck out and not obeying orders if I am going to my torture appointment.

There was no cleaner Tuesday, but at least the asshole agency called in advance so I could reschedule. I theoretically have four more covered visits between now and the 31st. They have skipped the last six, which is now over a month with no help. I am scheduling twice a week at the expense of sleep on both days in the hopes they will come once. Sigh.

I did successfully complete some Tuesday phone bureaucracy. Unfortunately, a place I discovered I needed to call after a call that ended at 4:37 actually closed at 4:30 despite the website saying 5PM, because of course. This meant I needed to stay up until they opened next morning, despite being exhausted from getting constantly awakened by phone calls. No, I can't unplug while I'm asleep because most of these are medical and include things like we need to reschedule your appointment til next month and they now take a day or two to reply if you call them back which means they are even more overbooked and they will return the call when I'm asleep, starting the cycle over again. It is faster to let them wake me up and get it over with.

I was exhausted and I really struggled to stay up an extra two hours past when I wanted to sleep. The call was frustrating and only one degree away from pointless. Sigh.

Six phone calls in the six hours maximum I had to sleep in, carefully placed to prevent relaxation or REM sleep. One was a long boring "assessment." Every single agency I have to deal with as a disabled person insists on waking me up to answer long, boring, intrusive surveys/assessments at least once a year, sometimes twice. Asshole Agency insists on four for some reason. I had just started drifting off from that when the asshole agency robot called me. So that's three Asshole agency calls in less than 24 hours, but no cleaners in a month. Just saying.

I was getting ready to go pick up Goth Millennial for errands and Squirrel told me there was no gas. Me: ?!? I put half a tank in Saturday night! It's my fault really. This was about two and a half weeks of gas for me because I don't drive much. His car is more fuel efficient, so I was thinking surely this would be enough for Sunday night to Wednesday night.

Bwahahahaha! No. Not even close. I should have been only putting in a gallon at a time, which meant trying to scrape together enough to buy a gallon with what I had on me as it was on empty and I had to go straight to the closest gas station. At least it didn't cut into the car repair money. I guess.

He is doing a favor lending my his car. It is his car and he needs it. I know what his executive function is like and he forgot I had Wednesday errands, so had planned to put more in on his way to work. It is 100 percent not any sort of rudeness on his part. There is a reason I'm mostly responsible for things that require executive function in the apartment.

Next time I'll remember. A gallon at a time covers everything I'm apt to do and leaves him plenty.

Errands were like this to. Lots of effort and frustrating results.

I would like to thank everyone trying to help with the car fix fund. I will find out likely late afternoon Friday if I will be able to pay any of my bills this month.

[mikasimaginairyworld]

The Umbrella Academy: Firecracker - The Day that Was (7/30)

Umbrella Academy Masterlist

warnings: blood

word count: 2655

"So who the hell is Harold Jenkins?", Nailah asked.

Five emptied his second cup of coffee and promptly threw it behind him:"I don't know. Yet. But I do know he's responsible for the apocalypse. So we have to find him. And we have to do it now."

"How is he connected to what's gonna happen?", Luther asked still a bit in disbelief.

Five sighed: "I don't know."

"So what, you just know his name? That's it?", Nailah asked.

"That's enough.", Five shrugged.

"There's probably dozens of Harold Jenkinses in the city.", Diego commented.

"Well, we just better start looking then.", Five shot back.

"I'm sorry, am I the only one sceptical here? I mean, how do you know all of this about, what's his name?", Allison an asked while Five's face scrunched. Nailah tiled her head observing Five carefully but didn't say anything.

"Harold Jenkins. You know those lunatics that attacked the house?", Five asked clearly annoyed.

"Oh, yeah. I think I remember those guys.", Klaus confirmed scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah, the ones that attacked us while you were getting drunk.", Diego added in an accusing tone.

"Yeah. Them. They were sent by the Temps Commission to stop me from coming back and preventing the end of life on Earth.", Five explained.

"The Temps what?", Allison asked confused.

"My former employer. They monitor all of time and space to make sure whatever is supposed to happen... happens. The believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. So I went to the Commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for said lunatics. 'Protect Harold Jenkins'. So he must be responsible for the apocalypse.", Five finished and for a moment there was complete silence.

Then everyone started to talk all over each other. 

"Do you have any idea how insane you sound?", Allison asked. Five discreetly put a hand on his side and again scrunched his face. Nailah narrowed her eyes.

Five scoffed: "You want to know what else is insane? I look like a 13-year old boy. Which I hope won't last long. Klaus talks to the dead, Luther thinks he's fooling everybody with that overcoat and Nailah can theoretically conjure fire from nothing. Everything about us is insane. It always has been."

"He's got a point there.", Klaus agreed from the sofa.

"We didn't chose this life. We're just living it. For the next three days at least.", Five continued.

"But the last time we tried to stop it we all died. Why is this time any different? Why shouldn't I go home to my daughter?", Allison intercepted.

"Because this time I'm here. And we've got the name of the man responsible. Guys, we actually have the chance to save the lives of billions of people. Including Claire.", Five continued.

Allison's head jerked towards him: "You know her name?"

"I do. And I'd like to live long enough to meet her.", Five said softly. 

Allison took a deep breath: "All right. Let's get this bastard."

"You had me at Gerald Jenkins.", Diego admitted.

"Harold.", Five corrected.

"Whatever. I've already lost two people this week, I'm not losing anyone else."

"Luther?", Five asked.

"Yeah, you go. I'm gonna stay and look through dad's files. I think this has something to do with why he sent me to the moon.", Luther declined.

​​​​​​​"Seriously? You wanna make the end of the world about you and dad?", Diego asked sceptically.

"No. 'Watch for threats'. That's what he told me. You think this is a coincidence?  This all has to be connected somehow.", Luther defended himself.

"We don't have time for this. Nailah?", Five interrupted.

​​​​​​​"All on board, as usual."

"Let's roll. I know where we can find this asshole. Klaus, you're with me.", Diego ordered.

"Yeah, I'm good. I think I'll pass. I'm feeling a little under the weather to be honest.", Klaus said stumbling forward and disappearing upstairs. 

Diego, Allison, Five and Nailah all sighed heavily and left the Academy.

"I know this Jenkins dude has to have a file. We gotta get out hands on this file.", Diego said as soon as he and the rest of his siblings arrived in front of the police station.

"And your plan is to what? Walk in there and just ask for the file?", Allison asked from the backseat.

"I know the station like the back of my hand, Nai. I got this. I've spend a lot of time inside.", Diego countered.

"Yeah, In handcuffs. Doesn't count, amigo.", Nailah said from next to Allison.

"Whatever. Here's the plan.", Diego began.

"Plan? I'm just gonna blitz in and get the file.", Five looked at him amused.

"No, that's not.. You don't know the ins and outs of this place, okay?", Diego protested.

"I literally just did this yesterday. My yesterday, not yours. It'll take two seconds. Why don't just go?", Five said.

"Listen to me. You are not going in there. I made a call. That's what a leader does. He leads.", Diego said in a low voice.

"For gods sake just go and get us that file before I do it.", Allison said.

"Yeah and be quiet about it, I'm trying to concentrate.", Nailah added scribbling even more in her notebook.

Diego took his sweet time getting that file. Nailah, Five and Allison had decided to leave Diego's stuffed car and wait on the curb. Allison tried repeatedly to call Vanya but to not avail. The call always went to voicemail. Nailah was still adjusting the equations.

"How's it going with it?", Five asked peeking over her shoulder. 

​​​​​​​"Fine. Do you happen to know your exact cholesterol level?"

"No? Why would you need that?"

​​​​​​​"Well, I'm pretty sure I've managed to complete the parameters to age up a human, I just need to adjust them to you."

"And why do you need my cholesterol level?"

Nailah sighed: ​​​​​​​"In my earliest research I've managed to make out the main biological components that allow you to time travel. Most are so small deviations from the normal humans that they can be ignored but your cholesterol level is surprisingly high. I guess it helps you materialise safer and faster or something. I'll just put 600 for now."

​​​​​​​"So you think you can actually age me up?", Five asked.

"Maybe. But I still need to run some tests.", Nailah confirmed.

"You're welcome.", Diego approached his siblings with a blue file in his hand. Allison took it and opened it. Her eyes immediately were. caught between surprise and shock.

"Holy shit. Nailah, you need to look at that. That's Leonard. The guy Vanya's been going out with.", she said. and Nailah confirmed. 

"And we know where he lives.", Nailah said with a small smile.

"What are we waiting for, then?", Five asked getting back in the car.

"Let's be careful, okay? We don't know what Peabody's capable of.", Allison asked as the four arrived at Leonard's house.

"Yeah, he didn't seem dangerous the first time I saw him.", Diego commented.

​​​​​​​"Yes, well looks can deceive. You for example look very dangerous but are harmless like a little bunny.", Nailah said opening the zipper of her blue sweater revealing a black bralette top. 

"Love you too.", Diego snapped back.

"Besides, most serial killers look harmless at first. Just look at Five.", Allison added.

"Fair point. What does this Leonard want with Vanya anyways?", Diego asked while Allison disappeared at the side off the house.

"I don't know. How about we ask him after we kill him?", Five proposed following Diego and Nailah up the porch stairs.

"Okay, so. I'm gonna burst through...", Diego began but stopped mid-sentence when realised Allison was gone.

Diego sighed: "You know, it would be nice for people to stick...", he as cut off by Five who just blitzed inside. "...the plan." he finished.

Diego took a few steps back and jumped through the glass part of the backdoor landing brutally on his side. Groaning his slowly stood up.

"Subtle.", Allison commented walking past him. 

Nailah peeked through the hole in the door and calmly turned the knob letting the door spring open without as much as a sound: "You do. realise the door is open, right?" Nailah chuckled walking inside. 

"Yeah, well my way works just fine. Spread out. Yell if you're in trouble.", he said walking towards the kitchen.

"Ah, inspiring leadership.", Five commented.

"One of the greats.", Allison added to which Nailah only chuckled.

The group spread out looking for any lead they could find.

"Guys, you need to see this!", Allison called from the attic.

Everyone rushed towards the attic. The sight was disturbing to say the least. Figures, posters, comics and ads of the Umbrella Academy. were mutilated and crossed out all over the room.

"All out faces are burnt off.", Allison sighed.

"A bit ironic, don't you think?", Nailah said holding up a figure of her with clear burn marks where her head had been. Since snickered through the disgust.

"Not creepy at all. This guy's got some serious issues.", Five commented but paled.

"This was never about Vanya. This was about us.", Allison said. Right then Five collapsed.

"Five?", Allison asked kneeling next to him.

"Blood from his side.", Nailah said seeing her hand stained red after touching Five's lower torso.

​​​​​​​"Jesus, Five. Why didn't you say anything?", Diego asked softly.

Five coughed: ​​​​​​​"You have to keep going. So... close." Then he lost consciousness. 

"Yeah, I'm not buying that hero shit. Let's go. My apartment's closest.", Nailah said and with her siblings' help they transported Five to her apartment.

Diego and Allison dragged Five up into Nailah's apartment.

 

"Put him on the couch. You can throw the papers on the floor, we'll pick them up later. Allison, bandages are in the bathroom, Diego take his shirt off.", Nailah ordered making her way to the sink to wash and disinfect her hands.

Allison brought her the first aid kit and bandages just as Diego finished taking off the clothes from Five's torso. Nailah began inspecting the wound. Her siblings knew that even though she wasn't a doctor she was still the most qualified to tend to any wound. A painfully slow hour passed but Nailah managed to clean the wound and sew it shut. 

Nailah sighed heavily and approached her siblings who were sitting the the table watching her every move. "And?", Allison asked.

"He's lost a lot of blood. I really don't know what to do. A blood transfusion won't work because neither one of us has his blood type and. besides, his blood composition is so much different than ours it would more damage than good.", Nailah explained.

"So what we just do nothing?", Diego asked and when Nailah neither answered nor looked at him he knew she had an idea. "You know something. What is it?", he asked.

Nailah sighed: ​​​​​​​"It's the pod. Our only option is wait for Five to wake up. And we don't even know when he wakes up and if. I could adapt the pod and age him up. We would know if he survives and he would have an older body. If it works."

"So why are we not doing it right now?", Allison asked.

"It's complicated. I don't even know for certain if it'll work. Of course I'm gonna do tests but even with them I have no idea how it will affect his wound. It could infect it or it could speed up the healing. I really have no idea.", Nailah explained.

"Do it.", Diego said and Allison nodded.

Nailah inhaled and made her way to the lab after taking a small sample of blood from Five's unconscious body. Allison tried to call Vanya again to warn her from Leonard. 

"Anything?", Diego asked in the living room watching Five lay on the couch unconscious.

"There's still no answer at Vanya's place. And the receptionist at the music school said she was a no-show for her lessons today.", Allison said. Diego nodded and began making his way towards Nailah's lab.

"Hey, you okay?", Allison asked.

"Yeah. I don't know. It's just surreal, this whole situation. We don't have much time. We gotta go.", he said.

"I don't know, Diego. Five is laying here, unconscious. We need him.", Allison intervened.

"We can do this ourselves.", Diego assured.

"We already did, remember? We all ended up dead.", Allison said in a dark tone.

"Yeah, well we can't give up now.", Nailah appeared in the doorway to her lab.

"Look, if you guys help me get him out of his clothes and into the pod, I'll stay with him. You can go and help Vanya.", Nailah assured.

​​​​​​​"You think it'll work?", Allison asked hopefully.

"Well, all the sampled look good. No damage, all healthy. I think he has a pretty good chance.", Nailah said.

Diego, Allison and Nailah stripped Five from his clothes and gently placed him in the pod.

"How much are you going to age him up?", Allison asked.

"Five years. That's the absolute maximum I can do in one sitting. Not just because the pod needs refreshing but because I have no idea what could happen after that. The equations stopped making sense, especially with his genetic code.", Nailah said strapping Five in tightly,

Nailah inhaled deeply before checking the parameters again. She then pressed the button initiating the process. The machine whirred quietly for a moment then silence spread through the lab. Slowly a grey coat of particles occupied the glass lid of the pod making it impossible to see the change inside.

"What's that? What does that mean? Did it work? What do we do now?", Diego asked with slight panic in his voice.

"Now we wait. Calm down. That's totally normal.", Nailah assured.

"Go find Vanya. I'll be here the whole time watching the pod. Don't worry.", Nailah said with an encouraging smile calming Allison's and Diego's worries.

Diego and Allison left the apartment swiftly after deciding on checking out Jenkins' grandmother's old house. As soon as the door closed Nailah exhaled shakily. She looked at her hands. They were violently trembling and uncontrollable small sparks were spraying out of her fingers. 

Nailah took deep breaths trying to calm herself down. She cursed. She leaned other desk glancing at the pod. "This better work.", she whispered to herself shakily.

​​​​​​​"Nope, come on, this way.", Diego redirected Allison as soon as they exited Nailah's apartment building.

"But the car's that way.", Allison protested but Diego gently pushed her in the other direction.

"Just trust me, okay? Come on"

"But what's going on?"

"They're here for me. They think did something."

"What do they think you did?"

Diego sighed: "Murder."

"Did you?"

"No! Of course not!  Why would you even ask me that?"

"You do carry knives everywhere."

"We're gonna have to split up, okay. I'm in charge. Remember? Vanya needs you."

"Don't do anything stupid, okay?", Allison left Diego.

Diego put his hands up and let himself get arrested.

Vanya's heart was beating faster than ever before. 

She had used her powers.

She had  fought back.

She had lost control.

She had hurt Leonard.

She had hurt people.

She had ... killed.

And now she had to live with the consequences of it.

-> Umbrella Academy Masterlist

[the-rat-house]

If you were to ask Galacta for a list of people he thought may eventually come looking for him, Doc would have been pretty low on it.

If you had asked him who might come looking as well as picking a fight? While there definitely could theoretically be that sort of list, Doc was nowhere on it.

So color Galacta very unpleasantly surprised when his tea time with Ripple was interupted by a fairy delivering a letter addressed to him from the Squeak in question proclaiming that Galacta needed to meet with him in the now long-abandoned knight training grounds or he was, quote, "Do something drastic."

Doc was not a very emotional man usually, and to be so vague as that was clearly just an attempt to get under Galacta's skin, for whatever reason. An attempt that worked, leaving him (as politely as he could) excusing himself from the table and headed to where Doc had demanded he be met.

He wasn't sure what to expect, but it hadn't been what he encountered.

"What in Hades name is that." Galacta asks, eyes wide in a mix of confusion and anger.

"This." Doc says, metal hand extending from his ship to give the top of the machine a light smack. "Is your replacement."

The replacement in question was a robot that was designed in Galacta's image. It was still very obviously a robot, but the signature features were there: the horns, wings, and armor, all meticulously crafted with care and an eye for detail. The armor even had intricate golden detailing, something he'd expressed having wanted when still a proper knight.

The absolute nerve.

"My replacement?" Galacta asks, wings flaring up in anger. "Did you talk with Daroach about this?"

"Since when do you care about that?" Doc ask, the question pointed and hitting Galacta hard.

So that's what this was about. Still, this was too far, and Galacta knows that Daroach would not do nor approve of something like this. One may say that it is nice knowing that Doc cares when he very rarely shows it, but they'd have to excuse Galacta for not appreciating this is how he decided to show it.

"So what. Did you come here just to show me this? You think I'm not good enough for the Squeak Squad?" Galacta extends his paws to summon his lance and shield. "How long have you been planning this? Because we both know that didn't take just a few days to make."

Doc lets Galacta go off, mechanical arms crossing in lew of the ones he doesn't have. "Are you quite done?"

"Why don't you answer the questions?" Galacta takes a threatening step forward.

"I think that you fail to truly understand what keeps our family together. You were welcomed with open paws, given a second chance, and what are you doing in return? Causing unwarranted stress because you are incapable of opening up." Doc sighs. "We both know that I do not care for strong emotions, but even I know how to at least communicate from time to time."

The knight growls, but Doc continues.

"If the Squeak Squad really means anything to you, I want you to prove it." He points to the robot. "This is a machine I started working on soon after you were freed, to see if we could get something similar to your power so we all could practice, yourself included. However, now, it is going to serve a different purpose."

A red ruby sparking with a hellish energy pops out of the bottom of Doc's ship, and he uses a mechanical hand to slot it into the back of the robot.

Wait, that ruby.

"Why do you have that?!" Hadn't they gotten help to dispose of it?!

"It's a replica. I wanted to have something in our arsenal in case we had to deal with Davoth or any other creatures like him again. This is going to power the robot. If you can defeat it, it will prove to me that you actually deserve to stay."

"This is all sorts of insane!" Galacta snarls.

"Well, I have been referred to as a mad scientist." Doc chuckles, though it is bitter. "Now." There is a click as Doc pushes something inside his ship, and the robot jerks a bit before red eyes light up and it whirs to life. "Prove to me that you actually care about my family."

There is so much more Galacta wants to say, but he doesn't, as the robot flares to life and comes straight for him. Its own lance clashes with his shield, the power behind it strong enough to almost make him stagger.

Of everyone on the squad, Doc was the most knowledgeable of Galacta's skills, thanks to late night discussions. Mixed with the foreign power of the ruby...

Galacta jumps back, the robot following and slashing at him again, his shield raised to block it again.

Battling himself was a pain, doing so twice was infuriating.

With the aggressive nature of the robot, he has to unleash energy from his shield to push it back and give himself an opening. It isn't a long one, but it is more than enough for him to meet it head on with his own attack.

-

Doc watches the battle silently. His robot was holding its own, the power of the ruby so far remaining stable while in use. Was this cruel, testing this on a friend? Sure, but maybe Galacta would learn why the squad stuck together if he had the sense beaten into him. There were just some types where that was the best way to get through to them!

It was a good opportunity to collect more data as well. It was the first time he had the opportunity to see Galacta putting forth a significant amount of effort in a battle power wise, and the information would be imperative to future endeavors of the Squeaks. They needed to know what they were dealing with to stay safe working with - or against - the knight.

And the use of the ruby, of course.

"What is going on?"

Doc turns to see who spoke. The queen had approached him, eyes wide in disbelief.

"It is a test, your highness." He states.

"A test?!" Her brows furrow, and there is a shine of something that Doc has never before seen in her eyes. "You are instigating an attack on my visitor as a test?!"

"He came of his own volition." Okay, yeah, the letter Doc had written hadn't really given Galacta much of a choice without further issues, but still. The Knight could have found a way beyond engaging in the fight.

Ripple is glaring daggers at the Squeak, and there is the smallest bit of him that is afraid; fairies and Ripple Star were peaceful as a whole, but ancient tales also spoke of the damage they could do when angered. Certainly, the Queen would not resort to such a tactic. That much he was certain of. But the fear still settled into his core nonetheless.

"Do not worry. I have complete control of the situation. The moment this goes beyond the range it is meant to, the robot can be stopped in its tracks. Galacta Knight and your planet are in no danger whatsoever."

"It isn't going to get that far, because you are going to stop this right now."

"Your highness, I understand your fears, but it is imperative-"

"That wasn't a request." she interrupts, and Doc shivers at the cold tone. "You will put a stop to this right now, and you will leave Ripple Star, taking your robot and anything else you may have brought with you."

Doc wants to fight it, but causing issues with one of the few royals that Daroach was friendly with would be far harder to justify than this test. Galacta becoming angry and leaving the Squad was an option that wouldn't be too problematic (assuming the knight did not attack, and while Doc had his doubts about whether he deserved to be in the squad, he was certain the knight wouldn't harm them). However, conflict with an entire planet that was known for how peaceful it was?

That could cause some serious problems.

"... Of course." He finally relents, and clicks the button to turn the robot off.

It doesn't turn off.

"..." He presses it again, a few more times, counting to himself to make sure he'd clicked it to an off state. But it didn't stop, and the battle between it and Galacta continued.

"... There may be a problem."

-

Something changed.

Galacta isn't sure what right away. The robot had held its own, unsurprisingly. Doc was good at what he did, and that ruby was undeniably a powerful source. He wasn't feeling concerned about losing to it, though, as it was predictable. It knew what he knew, and a few extra tactics, but they were not truly unique. They were calculated, and Galacta could work with that.

Until they weren't.

The robot charges up an attack on its lance, Galacta moving in to slam into it with his shield and shoot it back. But the shield is attuned to his magic and elements, not that of whatever this robot had channeled.

They both are blown back by the explosion, Galacta stabling himself just quickly enough to see red projectiles headed his way through the dust. A few hit, and something is wrong. This wasn't just some sort of elemental attack like the others. This was different. This was wrong.

Instantly, he knows that it must be the ruby. Whether or not it is intentional, he can't ask, because the robot is barreling towards him far faster than it has managed before now and he just barely raises his shield in time. A robot made to attack certainly had no feelings, but Galacta could see pure hatred in its eyes.

He was afraid. Not of the robot, but of his magic was swelling inside him, readying to be thrust upon this imposter with full force. He couldn't pull an attack like that here. The training grounds were large, but the devastation would be larger.

So he tries to play defense. Taking the hits with his shield or his body, pushing the robot back only for it to come at him quicker than before. He knows it won't tire like he will, but certainly Doc would see this had gone too far and stop the damn thing!

Even if he already knew that this couldn't possibly be Doc's doing. Angry as he was at the Squeak for this, he knows that he would not be so petty as to let this become truly dangerous. There was a difference, miniscule as it may be, between challenging Galacta to a fight, and unleashing something that would truly put others at risk.

Galacta needed some sort of help though, and he needed it now.

-

Ripple doesn't get angry very often. There is rarely ever a reason for her to do so, and a millennia of experience had given her more than enough time to deal with all sorts of conflicts.

But she was angry now. She and Doc had been thrown back by the explosion, and she could feel Galacta's energy swelling. She trusted her friend with all of her being, recognizing that if he had planned to attack back, he already would have done so. He was holding back, and she knows it is because he doesn't want anyone to get hurt.

Doc had begun to explain what he had decided to do, but been interrupted by the explosion. With few details on what she was dealing with, and the Squeak having been knocked out when he smacked against the wall of his ship, it left them all in a very precarious situation. The magic from the robot was completely foreign to her, though the negativity spewing from the unstable energy source was not.

She could, and would, end this.

Teleporting away, she finds herself in the room housing the Heart Crystal. The giant gem that kept her planet pure, its energy washing over her and immediately helping her calm down a bit. She goes to the wall to remove a staff, raising the staff towards the crystal. In a flash of light, it has been embedded into the staff. All that energy now held within the weapon, she teleports back to the fight.

The training grounds are ruined, and it is clear that Galacta is still trying to keep the battle within them. Sparks of magic bounce off his shield without his control, and it won't be long before he is forced to do something drastic.

She wouldn't let that happen. Not to her people, her planet, or her friend. Raising her staff, energy builds and swells around the crystal as a large ball of light forms. Pure light magic, only capable of being handled by select few individuals whose hearts and intentions were pure. It would not hurt, only purify.

The ball of magic explodes, covering the area in a blinding flash of white light.

When it fades... The robot has stopped. The crystal within it has been shattered, and with no power source it crumples into a heap.

Galacta is wrapped in his wings. Instead of their normal lavender, they are white, and when he spreads them to assess the situation, it is easy to see that his horns have grown and his armor has changed.

The Aeon Hero of Light stands before Ripple, and he doesn't even know it.

[zhangsanjian]

Goodness

Original Essay

We memorized the "Three Character Classic" when we were young. The opening chapter is "In the beginning of human beings, nature is good." Kindness can be separated and understood as goodwill and conscience. Kindness refers to gentleness and kindness, and conscience refers to the conscience that does not harbor malice and is worthy of oneself in doing everything. I would like to use this short article to share my personal understanding of kindness.

I asked myself, what is the first image that comes to mind when the word kindness is mentioned? The image that came to my mind was of a mother holding a newborn baby in her hands. The baby lies quietly in the arms of the mother with eyes closed, and the mother conveys the most primitive kindness in life with loving eyes. When it comes to the good and evil of babies, some people say that "at the beginning of human beings, their nature is inherently good", while others say "at the beginning of human beings, their nature is inherently evil". Who is right? I guess that the newborn baby's preference for favor and evil comes from the genes of the parents, but what is more important is whether the family gives the child enough sense of security. If a child receives enough sense of security and feels enough love from his parents, relatives and friends, he can slowly build a "castle of love" in his heart even if he is ignorant at the beginning of life. A child with such a strong enough "castle" can better protect himself in the face of future unforeseen events.

The next factor that determines whether the child can maintain kindness is education—the education of the family, the teaching of the teacher, including the teaching of various teachers after entering the society. This is like a novice who wants to learn to drive. After he has learned the theoretical knowledge, he starts to sit in the cab for practical operation. The co-driver must have a coach to guide and supervise, so as to prevent the car from accidentally driving into a ditch or flying into a tree. superior.

Adolescents are full of energy, receive information very quickly, and are particularly vulnerable to the influence of the environment. If they are not careful, they will go astray. As a teenager, I was blackmailed by gangsters and bullied on campus. The funniest thing is that as soon as I buy a bicycle, it will be stolen, and if I buy another bicycle, it will be stolen again… My first bicycle was when I was just in junior high school, as a prize for being admitted to a key middle school, every day I am content to drive this "special car" between home and school. (I used to ride women's bicycles like my mother's, which was too imposing.)

This exclusive bicycle is a mountain bike, rebuilt and assembled by a car dealer owner, with high performance and good looks! This cost parents hundreds of dollars. But the good times didn't last long. I hadn't been riding my beloved bicycle for two months before the bike disappeared. I still remember standing in the bicycle shed, looking at the place where I parked every day, thinking over and over whether I parked here, did I forget to lock it? Watching the students ride their bicycles away one by one, I even wondered if I walked to school today, and my beloved bicycle was just waiting for me obediently at home! … That sense of helplessness still exists faintly in retrospect, as if someone stole a piece of your memory, and also stole a corner of your heart.

In order to comfort me, my parents quickly bought me a road bike, commonly known as a claw bike. Seeing that my psychological trauma was about to be healed by this new bike, the tragedy happened again-this claw bike only stayed with me for two weeks.

In desperation, my parents had no choice but to buy me a very ordinary bicycle for the convenience of my going to school. At that time, my mother said to me: "Son, you may be targeted by car theft gangs. You can't keep the conspicuous and inconspicuous bicycles. Otherwise, we will take the bus to school in the future." I could only silently agree, so I started Every day when I get stuck going out, I walk slowly when the bus does not pass the intersection in front of my house. As soon as I see the shadow of the bus, I start to rush towards the bus stop. This may have improved my sprinting ability.

My parents didn't have the mentality of revenge in my education back then. If they couldn't protect their own interests through formal means, they would go another way. They enlightened me with appropriate methods and protected my "castle". Much of my understanding of the world was slowly established from this period. The education of adolescence is particularly critical, which may determine whether you will become a street gangster who speaks foul words and fights, or a teenager who is full of goodwill towards the future and the world, and believes that there are many ways to go in this world. I am glad I accepted To the education!

With a kind heart, you will become tolerant towards everything in the world. There are no absolutely good people and no completely bad people in the world. Looking at ourselves and others with multiple dimensions and different perspectives will make us more tolerant. I often think, what color is kindness? Goodness seems to me to be transparent, it can overlay any color without distorting them. If your good heart becomes cloudy, then what you see may not be the original color of things, but your own polluted heart. Our hearts may be easily contaminated, so we need to reflect and brush frequently.

There are many windows in the castle of the mind. If the windows are full of dirt, you will be afraid to look out, and even think that the blurred images are the messengers of demons. When you wipe the window clean, you realize that it is the sun that wants to shine into your heart—you stand in front of the window, the sun surrounds you, and the distance is waiting for you.

Good versus evil, that is the question. To be or not to be is up to you.

[forestlingincorporated]

I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People. 

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them. 

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent. 

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.) 

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction. 

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children. 

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically. 

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation. 

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear. 

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect. 

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?) 

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but... 

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7. 

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.) 

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics. 

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two. 

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about. 

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural. 

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries. 

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance. 

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other. 

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent. 

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart. 

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist. 

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well. 

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child. 

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive. 

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you. 

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt. 

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh... 

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating? 

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting. 

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t. 

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so. 

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet. 

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom. 

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought. 

[immortalecstasy-blog]

You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth 18+

Chapter 14/20 Pairing: Eddie Munson / Chrissy Cunningam Need to catch up? Click Here for Chapter 1

When Chrissy finally woke up, she was mute. People are sympathetic at first, but when she doesn’t magically get better, she slowly finds herself as one of the ‘freaks’. Lucky for her, there’s one freak in particular she really doesn’t mind finding herself beside. 

Warnings: Slow Burn, Angst, PTSD, Chrissy still got attacked by Vecna but didn't die, Eddie still got mauled by bats but didn't die, Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Gum Sharing (Gross), I keep adding chapters and you can't stop me because these two are eating my rotten brain.

Eddie’s bandana stayed tied around Chrissy’s wrist to keep it within easy reach, and Eddie had closed every blind and every curtain to leave them in the dark at the flip of a switch.

He was more than content with the situation, paying no mind to any kind of plans they should be making, like how to get her to and from school safely when school started up again or how long they could theoretically survive on chips and dip. Or what would happen if Reefer Rick got let out and turned up. If Mrs Henderson or Uncle Wayne would react badly. Or the worse one of all, what would happen if Chrissy’s mom found out where she was, or who she was with?

No, Eddie didn’t let any of these questions cross his mind. But they dominated Chrissy’s mind.

The food situation was resolved by a visit from Jonathan and Nancy Monday afternoon. Eddie lamented the sheer volume of ‘rabbit food’ Nancy had included, but Chrissy met Nancys eye, and a wave of understanding passed between them.

Nancy knew, Chrissy realised. She’d put the pieces together (like any good reporter would), and whether or not she had come to the correct conclusion or not, she knew enough.

Jonathan had also brought Eddie a little something, and soon the downstairs was pungent with the smell of marijuana. Nancy wrinkled her nose, but once they’d put the food away Chrissy went to join them, sitting on Eddie’s lap and taking the joint from between his fingers.

“So, are you two, like…?” Jonathan asked as Eddie breathed in the plume of second-hand smoke from Chrissy’s mouth.

“I told you.” Nancy said, arms folded, looking smug.

Eddie raised his eyebrows, one hand on Chrissy’s knee as she handed the joint over to him and he took a drag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” Nancy countered, “Robin told me, like, a month ago, and Mike said you guys kissed in front of everyone.”

“You’ve only known for a month? Because Robin told you?” Eddie asked, feigning disdain. “And you’re supposed to be an investigator… investigative journalist – whatever - I thought you were good at figuring things out.”

“Wait, what?” Jonathan asked.

Eddie looked at Chrissy for permission and she nodded.

“We started seeing each other over the summer. You’re getting sloppy Wheeler.”

“Since the summer?!” Nancy exclaimed, looking accusingly at Chrissy “why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was a secret.” Eddie answered for her, having no idea where her whiteboard was. Chrissy didn’t seem to mind though, making no move to get up and go find it.

“Why?” Jonathan asked, taking the joint when Eddie passed it over to him.

“Don’t you think she’s had a hard enough time of it without my help?” Eddie asked, “you heard what happened on Saturday. You want to take a guess what her mom would be like if she found out we were dating?”

Nancy looked sad, but Jonathan just nodded in acceptance and passed the joint back.

They had a visitor at least once a day that week. It made the efforts they’d all gone to to get Chrissy and Eddie out here seem ridiculous.

Steve and Dustin joined them one night, bringing containers of Mrs Henderson’s home cooked food with them. Dustin reassured Eddie that neither his uncle nor Dustin’s mom minded that he’d absconded to ‘a friends’ for fall break. Neither of them was stupid, it was obvious they knew who he was with.

Chrissy was still using Dustin’s (or technically, Holly’s) substitute whiteboard. Unlike hers, it didn’t have a ribbon to sling over her shoulder, and so she often found herself having to run and retrieve it from wherever she’d last put it down. The moment Dustin and Steve had turned up she’d pirouetted on the spot to go find it, effectively dismissing them.

Steve had faltered, his arms piled high with Tupperware.

“She’s just looking for her board.” Eddie had had to explain, opening the door wide and stepping back so they could come in.

Reefer Rick didn’t have many possessions, and either the television had never been hooked up to begin with or had been shut down as every channel was just static, and his VHS collection was poor to non-existent, so Steve had ‘borrowed’ a bagful of films from work.

Dustin was never silent for long though, and soon it was just Eddie and Steve watching the film while Dustin and Chrissy gossiped in one corner.

Eddie had half a mind to be jealous, watching them pressed up against one another on the one armchair, giggling and occasionally casting looks over towards him and Steve. Her whiteboard lay forgotten on the floor by their chair, and it took him longer than he’d care to admit – much longer than Steve – to realise someone else had joined a coveted spot on the very exclusive list of people Chrissy could talk to. He had put her little burst of speech during D&D down to excitement – or maybe even just prolonged exposure to the group. She hadn’t spoken to Nancy or Jonathan and Eddie would’ve put money on Nancy being the next person to join him in that exclusive club. But Dustin was a good choice. A great choice, even.

He wondered if Steve was now on that list by default just because he was in the room. He couldn’t be sure. She still used her whiteboard with Eddie if someone else was in the room, so… it seemed like he was. Or wasn’t far off at least.

Regardless, he was more than happy to join in when Steve had had enough of them and decided to beat Henderson up with a couch cushion, though Steve’s excuse was that they were ruining the film, Eddie joined in simply for the hell of it. Doubling over laughing at the shock on Chrissy’s face when Steve lifted her out of the way and flung her onto the sofa so he could take a harder swing at a screaming Dustin, stopping only when he took a cushion straight to the face and had to avenge his honour.

Rick’s phone had been cut off, and so despite the offer to stay over Steve had to get Dustin home eventually. Eddie unwilling to let Mrs Henderson worry after she had opened both heart and home to him and his Uncle Wayne.

Uncle Wayne himself had turned up one morning to ‘check on them’. He’d stayed long enough for Chrissy to make him a coffee, assess whether or not Eddie would be in trouble for taking over someone else’s house, and press a wad of cash into Eddie’s hand “for if you need anything.”

They had been swimming in lovers’ lake on a slightly warmer afternoon when Erika had also appeared, having ridden her bike all the way there.

Eddie had been unable to turn her away, despite how close Chrissy had been to getting him undressed, and they had both climbed out of the water to listen to her complain about her school friends, about how busy everyone else was, about how there was nowhere good to get ice cream now the mall was gone and generally just give her a two-hour outlet for whatever constituted as an issue for anyone that young.

Eddie had initially been a little embarrassed at her arrival. It wasn’t exactly the norm for a twenty year old to be friends with someone literally half his age. But Chrissy seemed to delight in her company, both insisting she stay for dinner (microwave lasagne, which Eddie had expected Erika to not-so-politely turn down) and then written that Eddie would drive her home.

“Oh I will, will I?” Eddie had asked, upon seeing the whiteboard.

Both Erika and Chrissy had levelled him with a ‘do as you’re told’ look, and though Erika’s was almost comical given her size, and Chrissy’s was fall-to-your-knees adorable, he had to admit that it was a long ride back and it was getting dark.

The Sinclair’s lived on Maple Street and when Eddie dropped her off he was pleasantly surprised to see Marie sat outside her front door smoking a cigarette.

“Uh, you’re not coming in.” Erika chastised as he turned off the engine.

“Uhhhh.” Eddie mocked, “No shit, little Sinclair. I want to talk to Marie.”

“One cheerleader not enough?”

“Oh shut up.” Eddie spat, “Get out my van. Go on, get.”

He got her bike out of the back for her and waited until she was safely inside before crossing the road. Marie had spotted him and was already on her feet as he crossed her lawn.

“How is she?” Marie asked before he was even halfway.

Eddie dug his hands in his pockets to find his cigarettes even as Marie jerked her head to one side and led him around the side of the house and into the backyard. He followed her, unoffended.

“She’s okay.” Eddie reassured, noticing with pleasure that there was a collection of mismatched plastic furniture by the backdoor and falling uninvited into one of them. “Shouldn’t you be at college already?”

“Day after tomorrow.” Marie told him, “My college course is a bit of a late starter.”

“Where you headed?”

“California.”

“Nice.”

Marie nodded, and silence fell over them. It wasn’t the most awkward silence Eddie had ever found himself in, but it certainly wasn’t the easy going comfortable silence he had with people like Jeff or Gareth, people who he could sit with without a word for hours and be at peace – if his mouth ever shut up for that long.

He wanted to ask about Matty, Chrissy’s little brother. But he knew that that would be crossing a line if Marie wasn’t in the know. He had so many questions, so many moments of Chrissy’s life he wanted to know about, but he couldn’t ask. He didn’t want to be ‘that guy’, and he knew that Chrissy would tell him anything he needed to know, anything she wanted him to know.

“Can I ask…” Marie started, and then looked away.

“Yeah?”

“How long have… you know… you and Chrissy?”

Ah yes. Irrelevant of the ‘moment’ she had witnessed between them, she had been the one who had fulfilled Chrissy’s list of essentials.

Eddie wasn’t sure what his answer should be. Chrissy had trusted Marie enough to sneak condoms onto her list, fully aware that Marie knew where she was going, and who she would be with. The hug didn’t count, she had been upset, but the condoms… that had been an admission, a secret shared.

“Was it before… before that doctor kidnapped her?” Marie asked.

She finished her cigarette and Eddie offered his packet out to her.

“No.” He finally admitted as she stepped over to him and took one, sinking into one of the rickety chairs beside him.

“No.” He said again, “It was… after.”

“She won’t talk about it.” Marie told him, sounding anxious.

Eddie wanted to tell her it wasn’t personal, that what had really happened was beyond talking about. Perhaps remind her that she was one of very few people Chrissy could talk around regardless of the topic. But it wasn’t for him to say, it wasn’t something he could explain.

He lit her cigarette for her and sat back in his chair.

“Do you know where Reefer Rick’s is?” He asked instead.

“Kind of.”

“You drive?”

Marie nodded.

“You should come see her.” He told her, “Before you go.”

Marie shook her head. “Her mom keeps doing a drive by. If I timed it wrong…” she shook her head again, almost singeing her curls on the fiery end of her cigarette.

“Is she giving you problems?”

Marie shook her head, “She hasn’t knocked or threatened to come in or anything. But her car keeps crawling past, and I went to the cinema with Angelique and Tamara the other day. I saw her car when we were coming out, she trailed me home.”

Eddie’s face contorted with disgust, Marie nodding in agreement as she caught his expression in the orange light of their cigarettes.

He finished his cigarette, but waited patiently for her to finish her second before making a move.

“I should get back. Um, I’m sure Wheeler – the elder, Nance – would give you a lift up to Rick’s if you don’t want to go up in your own car.”

Marie nodded, but Eddie could tell she wouldn’t.

“Or… you know, leave a letter with her.”

Marie noticeably brightened, and actually stood to give Eddie a perfunctory hug when he left. He was too surprised to reciprocate, standing rigid in her arms.

“Tell her I love her.” She said as she stepped back.

“Will do.” Eddie agreed, happy to stealth around the side of the house and back to his van.

He saw Erika’s silhouette in her bedroom window and raised a hand in farewell as he climbed back into his van.

They had one more fairy-tale worthy day before it all came crashing down. Not via Mrs Cunningham, or some loose-lipped acquaintance as he would’ve expected. But from Chrissy herself, with five little words.

“I want to go home.”

They’d been lying on the sofa, Eddie’s bandana still tied tightly around his eyes, his chest still heaving,

He’d been so surprised he’d torn the bandana off, and Chrissy had quickly snatched up the closest items of clothing to throw over her legs before lunging to cover his eyes with her hands.

He’d tried to move them away, but she’d held fast.

“Put something on.” He’d said finally, covering his eyes with his own hands and waiting for the go ahead.

When he’d been allowed to take his hand away, she’d been back in her jeans, his cut-off thrown absently over her naked torso, leaving everything on show. Chrissy Cunningham’s tits framed in denim and metal merch should have – at a minimum – brought a smile to his face. But smiling was the last thing on his mind.

“You want to repeat that?”

“I need to go home.” Chrissy amended “Not.. not straight away. But… just… before we go back to school.

“why?”

“Eddie.” She chastised, “We can’t stay here forever.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to go back, Chris.”

“It does.”

“No.”

“Yes it does!”

“No.”

She huffed, leaning over him, her hands on his chest.

“yes.”

“Again. No.”

She rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Eddie! Rick hasn’t exactly left this place to you. Does he even know we’re here?”  Eddie didn’t answer and Chrissy continued, “And it doesn’t matter. It’s where I live.”

“I lived in a trailer. Now I don’t. It’s literally that easy.”

“It’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“It’s not! Eddie! Please! Just.. just listen!”

Eddie rolled his eyes and Chrissy covered his mouth with both hands, sliding her legs between his so that her slight weight pressed down on him.

“I can’t just leave. My Dad wouldn’t understand.”

“So tell him.”

“No.”

Eddie clenched his jaw, and no amount of kissing on Chrissy’s part relieved the tension. Eventually she sat back on her haunches, scowling at him.

“When we go back to school – and we are going back to school – she’ll find me anyway. If I go home---”

Eddie opened his mouth to retort but she raised her voice. “If I go home on my own, if I let her keep up appearances, I’ll… she’ll be indebted, she’ll behave. She’s more bothered about what other people think than what’s actually going on.”

“Chrissy.” Eddie growled, “she’s a fucking psychopath.”

“No, she isn’t.” Chrissy argued, “she was scared, angry. She’ll have cooled off by now. She’ll just be worried.”

“I won’t let you.”

“Let me?” She scoffed, incredulous.

Eddie’s expression changed like the flip of a switch. Realising he’d said exactly the wrong thing. He was good at that, day to day, but it was the first time he’d sensed that looming dread that proceeded one of his verbal fuck ups when speaking to Chrissy.

“I didn’t mean…”

“Let me?” She repeated, climbing off of him and getting to her feet - Eddie was suddenly reminded of the wrath she had unleashed on Principal Higgins. Vecna had never stood a chance.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” He said quickly, holding up his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

The heat simmered down, but her jaw was still set, and she’d pulled the edges of his jacket together to cover herself up. Her eyes flashing a challenge that he was absolutely not about to compete in.

“I’m going back home.”  Chrissy told him, brokering no room for argument.

The rest of the evening had been spent with Eddie walking on eggshells, Chrissy’s fury fast to emerge and slow to dissipate. After the fifth attempt at reasoning with her and being wholeheartedly shut down, Chrissy had dismissed him and gone to bed.

She hadn’t said anything, but Eddie had weighed up whether or not this was one of those occasions where he was supposed to sleep on the couch.

Angrily, he’d decided that is she wanted to sleep separately she shouldn’t have taken the bed. Irrelevant of the fact they were technically trespassing, Rick was his friend, not hers. Which made it his bed, not hers. Happy with this irrefutable logic, he’d headed upstairs a few hours later.

He climbed into bed beside her, both gratified and disappointed when she turned her back on him.

He waited her out, lying on his back underneath the duvet, making no attempt to talk or to touch her.

For half an hour he held his tongue – not the easiest thing to do with a brain wired like his was… and then she rolled over, begrudgingly wrapping one arm around him.

“I’m still mad at you.” She explained, even as she spread out his fingers and pressed his hand to her breast. He cupped her breast automatically, letting her leg tangle with his and manhandling him until he was covering her.

She stretched over to the bedside table, picking up the last of the condoms and putting it in his mouth.

“Are you using me for sex?” He asked around the wrapper.

“Yes.”

Well okay then.

Their anger at one another lingered. Both of them harsher and more selfish than they’d ever been before.

Eddie didn’t even try to hold himself back to let her climax first, unceremoniously rolling off of her when he was done and taking a fist to the gut for his efforts.

“Asshole.”

Eddie laughed, cupping her chin and massaging her throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like me to drive you home?”

He kissed down between her breasts, lingering just before her belly button and grinning as she took a fistful of his hair and pushed him down.

“Oh, is that how it is?”

“Edd-i-i-ie!” Chrissy whined, trying to force his head lower. “Please!”

Eddie grabbed her hand, forcing his fingers between hers and pinning her hand over their heads.

In the dull light, the vague outline of a badly drawn cobra was visible on her wrist where she had played with the temporary tattoo out of the chewing gum wrapper.

“Please what?” He asked. Feigning ignorance.

She groaned again, and it took all of his self-control not to laugh at her, his spent cock stirring again as she gyrated desperately into thin air.

“Eddie.” She said again, scolding this time. Eddie’s hand flexed around her throat, daring her to try and command him again.

He was still angry at her – even if that anger was borne out of fear for her rather than aimed towards her, but as her body wriggled beside him his anger couldn’t hold ground. He melted under her pleas.

He would argue with her again tomorrow, he decided.

She was already swollen and dripping, rutting against his face. Ignoring the lingering taste of latex Eddie dove in. He kept one hand around her throat, squeezing just beneath her chin as his other hand hurriedly pushed inside of her, lavishing her clit as he started to pump his fingers, filling the gap his cock had left behind and holding her down as her hips bucked wildly.

While Eddie had accepted he was going to run away from this particular argument (no matter how good the angry sex was), he wasn’t going to let it go. Especially after what she’d admitted about her brother, about how the bruises on her arm were not the first.

So, he did what any good non-conforming pot head would do. He snitched to the police.

Well, to Hopper.

Chrissy had good-naturedly agreed to spend the rest of fall break hidden away at Ricks once Eddie had backed off, and he managed to get away the next day and went straight to the station.

Chrissy was with Robin, Nancy, and Vickie – and apparently Chrissy didn’t think humans should go more than 3 days without fruit or vegetables, so he’d volunteered to go get groceries, pleased to see Chrissy’s shopping list also included an array of unhealthy snacks (and more condoms – yay!)

“Here to turn yourself in?” Officer Callahan asked when Eddie walked by his desk.

Eddie resisted the urge to flip him the bird but couldn’t hold back from a sarcastic quip.

“That’s right! After all this time, Satan himself has asked me to repent for my sins. Hopper around? The devil asked me to confess to him specifically. You know, him being the saviour of Hawkins and all.”

“Asshole.”

“Bite me.”

“Eddie?”

Eddie looked up and saw Hopper on the other side of the room, his face lighting up.

“Hey, can I talk to you? Five minutes, tops.”

Hopper jerked his head towards his office, “go ahead.”

Eddie gave Callahan an overly sweet and wholly sarcastic grin, drum-rolling on the edge of his desk as he sauntered past.

“So how’s the love nest?” Hopper asked closing the door behind them.

“Huh?”

“I know you’re holed up at Lovers Lake with Chrissy, don’t play dumb.”

“Sorry.” Eddie said unapologetically.

Hopper rolled his eyes. He pulled out his packet of cigarettes and took one, offering the pack over to Eddie.

“To what do I owe the displeasure?” Hopper asked, lighting up his cigarette and then leaning over so Eddie could light his own.

“Chrissy wants to go back to her mom’s before school starts up.”

“I figured she’d go home once everything had cooled off.”

Eddie shook his head, “didn’t you see her arm?”

“Her arm?”

Eddie shook his head, exasperated. He took a long drag on the cigarette until he could feel it burning the back of his throat.

“Her arm was covered in bruises.” Eddie explained through a plume of smoke, “and that wasn’t the first time her mom’s… left a mark.”

Hoppers eyes widened, shooting up to meet Eddie’s.

“You’re serious?”

“Would I be here if I wasn’t?”

Hopper’s expression turned dark, his jaw clenching.

“And this is the first time you’re mentioning this – why?”

“She only told me after last Saturday.”

Hopper stayed silent long enough for Eddie to finish his cigarette and Hopper slid his ashtray over the table for him.

“She can move in with me and Joyce. She’d have to share a room with El, or, or we can sort a camp bed for the living room or something. Will might be willing to bunk with Jonathan…”

“I actually already suggested that.” Eddie admitted sheepishly. But Hopper didn’t admonish him for the assumption that that would be possible.

“And Steve’s.” Eddie continued, “Huge house. Absent parents. It made sense.”

“And?”

“She said no, she wants to go back to her moms. She also noped Nancy’s, Robin’s, and Marie’s.”

Hopper sighed.

“I’ll talk to her.”

Eddie nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

“You both still going to be by the lake the next few days?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take a drive up tomorrow.”

“Thanks man.”

Eddie stood up to leave.

“Oh, and, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Will had a lot of fun last weekend. That dungeon game you all play. You… you planning any more of those?”

“Can do.”

They nodded at one another and then Eddie left, rushing around Big Buys on his way back to Reefer Ricks to snatch up everything on Chrissy’s list.

Well, almost everything.

It was only after an evening with the girls (Robin had declared him an honorary member of the female sex on the condition they had been both allowed to play with his hair, and paint his nails) that he’d realised what he had forgotten.

“You forgot the condoms.” Chrissy repeated. “You forgot the condoms?! How?”

“I just… forgot!”

Chrissy folded her arms, looking at him sternly.

Eddie felt like not having any condoms left was punishment enough without the murderous look in her eyes, and almost fell to his knees at her feet when she finally stopped glaring at him and told him to ‘improvise’.

An evening with his face between Chrissy Cunningham’s legs wasn’t exactly punishment.

She felt guilty that she was unable to reciprocate. Her jaw may have been fixed well enough for her to eat or (physically) talk without any issues, but Eddie wouldn’t even let her attempt to get him off that way.

He loved playing house with Chrissy, he’d often found himself daydreaming about Reefer Rick’s being theirs, staying here forever. He’d always enjoyed the simple pleasures that life had to offer, and found himself imagining her plodding around the house in nothing but one of his t-shirts.

He was sure he’d be able to convince her to abandon the safety net of his bandana, of darkness, at any other time. But with her mothers drama, the constant influx of guests and their ever looming exams, it didn’t seem like the right time (or place) to toe that boundary.

Each time his hands had naturally fallen to her thighs her hands had been over his immediately, bringing them back around to cup her ass or envelop her waist. His fingertips had briefly skated over the pits of scar tissue, so like his own, but the way she had moved his hands away from her entirely, entwining their fingers and preventing him from touching any part of her again that night had been warning enough, and he was careful now to avoid her legs entirely even though it made a hard lump form in his chest that she could be so hung up on something so… incredible.

Hopper was true to his word, and seemed happy enough to go along with the charade when Eddie feigned surprise at seeing him there.

Chrissy wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t difficult to connect Eddie’s overly long shopping trip the day after their fight and the suddenly concerned Hopper on their doorstep.

She tracked down her board and banished Eddie to living room while Hopper spoke to her in the kitchen. Eddie strained his ears, but couldn’t hear anything other than the low grumble of Hoppers monotone every now and then.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when half an hour or so later there was the sound of chairs scraping and footsteps.

“Well played.” Chrissy told Eddie when Hopper had left. Eddie raised his eyebrows, still playing the thin option of deniability.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chrissy shook her head at him. “I’m going home Eddie. Please just trust me.”