#there was probably some other sidebar i wanted to throw in here but i forget and quick let's post this before I Keep Going On & On

[foxufortunes]

So like I was actually having this discussion in the comments of one of my fics at stupid in the morning, but like having thought it through for the day I'm here to messily rant my thoughts on the complicated relationship between the upperclassmen, mainly Dan, and the monsters, mainly Andrew, and Wymack. How Dan is terribly self righteous and hypocritical and lets her emotions get in the way of her captaincy at times. How Andrew doesn't care for the discomfort and fear he causes others and even revels in it, even without provocation. And how Wymack, for better or for worse, is a hands off coach who can't/won't inflict meaningful punishments on his team, even enabling their worst qualities and habits, as part of his ideal of giving people more chances and how that can create a hostile team environment.

Aka, I'm about to throw slander in every direction, because these are flawed, messy characters and trying to make any of them perfectly innocent or always right does a disservice to the well sketched, messy, imperfect, flawed characters Nora created. Blame goes everywhere and no one is innocent. Trauma is a reason, not an excuse.

Buckle up, guys, this is about to get long and messy.

So, let's start with Wymack, who's a bit trickier to explain than Dan and Andrew, but is also the reason they've been brought togethers. Wymack, as we see him on page, is a massively hands off coach, especially when you compare him to Coach Rhemann. Now, it's very possible that this is actually because Nora either wasn't confident/good enough to write him coaching vs where she is now ten years later, or because she didn't want to focus there (although logically for exy junkie Neil's pov that would be weird, but whatever, that's not what we're talking about) but whatever the reason out of universe, it leaves us with Wymack as hands off as possible in universe. (Also, sidebar, some people in this fandom need to learn that out of universe reasons still need to have an in universe reason, "it needed to happen for the plot" is an out of universe reason, but I still need to know why the characters did it beyond "for the plot" or it's bad writing, stop using that for an answer about "why did character X do Y?")

Anyway, Wymack lets the team basically run amuck and sort themselves out, and even enables their worst habits. I think its canon that Abby gets a tip when "random" drug tests are happening, and they certainly don't do anything to enforce the no drugs policies the school and NCAA and probably ERC would have. Wymack brought a bunch of troubled kids together and seems to have no plan beyond letting themselves work it out and Betsy's here if there's trouble. This is why the Matt situation happens. You let a struggling to stay sober drug addict be around other not even trying drug addicts, of course Matt was going to get worse. This is actively bad for him. And in turn then actively bad for Aaron.

His relationship with Andrew is a bit more complicated. Now, I need you to forget everything you know about Andrew through Neil and his backstory for a moment, and just look at Andrew through Wymack's eyes as he first met him. Andrew has been to juvie, and is currently on parole for another violent crime that Wymack may or may not know the actual details about and on medication that Wymack may or may not know what they actually are and do. Andrew asks to come off of them. Wymack says yes. Now, even putting aside the legality of this, Wymack took the unilateral decision that Andrew knows best about his meds and can come off of them. Now, we can talk plenty about how Andrew's medication is portrayed in canon, but plenty of people don't like meds that are actually good for them and try/do stop taking them, often without telling a doctor they're doing so. There's also the fact that, again irrelevant of what we know as the story goes, Andrew regularly drinks, smokes and misses doses, things that can all make medication not work as it should. Wymack is not a doctor, for all he knows he could actively making Andrew worse by allowing this, but does anyway, for a good defence line.

(Also another side note, where does canon get off calling the Foxes a laughing stock? They're five years old. Seth was part of the first batch, right? So they're five years old and made the championships in their fourth year of existing as a team, fuck off are they dead last laughing stocks.)

And this is part of what I don't get about Wymack. He both wants to win above what's good for his team and doesn't at the same time. For example, he's so hands off and enables their bad habits, things that could kill them and actively harm them. He puts Andrew on the bench because he doesn't need a third goalie despite him being better and seemingly rolls with the hierarchy of age over skill, which implies team feel goods over victory but is so invested in staying Class I he semi-regularly lets (and yeah, it's lets not makes but still) Andrew harm himself playing full games on withdrawals (again, as far as he knows potentially stopping his meds working right). And while it could be argued his situation with Andrew is more not wanting to give up on Andrew, that is an the expense of his other players. Anyone who's ever been in a situation where one or two people are hostile/seemingly unpunishable knows how bad that makes everyone else feel.

Because, let's be real, Andrew is unpunishable and they all know it. Cardio is one thing, but he doesn't go through with marathons and nothing else will work. Andrew doesn't care for his own contract, and even if we actually believed Wymack would go through with any threat again Kevin, Nicky or Aaron's contracts (and we all know he wouldn't) Andrew would probably sabotage the game in protest or just outright quit. Andrew gets away with everything and everyone knows it and that can quickly see your team stop respecting/trusting you or feeling safe when you say they are. It's a very dangerous line.

And this is where we finally get to Dan. Because yes, Dan hates Andrew, and is unprofessional in her bias against him. But I think we often forget where this comes from. You often see people talk about Columbia, and Andrew drugging Neil, and should Neil have been angrier, how his trauma impacted him moving on so quickly and whether Andrew's reasons were valid or not because he thought Neil was a threat. And sometimes you see people talk about what he did "to" Matt. Which, yes, wasn't great, and yes, Matt took the drugs himself, but really it wasn't a great move from Andrew. But how often do you see people talk about what he did to Dan?

I mean, let's get some context here. Andrew and Dan barely knew each other. Dan is already getting shit from every angle for daring to be a woman playing and captaining an exy team (and if you hc her as a woman of colour, double this) in a period of time where colleges did (and still do) have a terrible reputation for covering up the horrific assaults committed by their best NCAA athletes. And Andrew, with no provocation, or reason, invites her out, to his home turf, with his family, to a bar he worked out, without anyone to support her and look after her, and drugged her. To find out if she was a women worth following. Not because she was a threat. Because he wanted to find out what type of person she was. He wanted her tragic backstory and he wanted it now (something people criticise Dan for demanding a lot, by the way). Andrew and his group show no remorse and face no real repercussions and then go on to enable Matt getting falling off the wagon and taking potentially lethal mix of drugs, because his mom said it was fine so it's ok and it all worked out, ends justify the means, and is allowed to just carry on with again, no meaningful punishment. Because no harm, no foul, right? (funny how you'll apply that to Andrew but hate when Thea said it, huh?)

Is it any wonder Dan doesn't like or trust Andrew?

And lets be clear, Andrew does nothing to discourage this. Andrew doesn't want to be understood, he doesn't want to share. Andrew is not here angsting because no one understands his attempts to making friends (except maybe, big maybe, Aaron not understanding his attempts at brothering). Andrew is fine if the team doesn't trust him. He encourages it, because trust means friends means feelings means weakness and that's ew. It's not hard to see how, from Dan's pov, Wymack can't/won't punish Andrew and is more interested in winning so won't kick him off the team.

At the same time, Dan is just as complicit in Andrew's breaking the law and hurting himself by missing meds as Wymack. Again, for all she knows, his meds help him, and skipping could actively harm the help they're giving him. Again, she's putting winning, because they have this amazing goalkeeper, above both Andrew and the team's health, and then complains when he lashes out. Some meds need a consistent balance to work, and maybe if he wasn't skipping every Friday to help you win he'd be more stable (we know this isn't the case, but they don't). There's barely any resistance put up to the idea that Andrew plays entire games, because she also wants to win more than she cares about Andrew's health, while at the same time not caring about winning more than her pride, like the rest of the team who are more interested in fighting than winning.

Now, of course, Andrew doesn't care. I think Nicky has it right early on when he says Andrew doesn't care about your boundaries, just his. Andrew is here mostly because he wants to keep Nicky and Aaron close and sees providing value for them (protection, scholarships, controlling protection ect) as the only way to really do it. Andrew sees life as exchanges. But, for all we act like Andrew lives on fair exchanges, he doesn't. As I said, he drugged Dan because he wanted to know about her, what did he give her in return? Nothing. He violated her autonomy and gave her nothing in return. Not even his own backstory. Arguably not even respect. (please, take a minute to imagine how pissed you would be if someone in fanfic wrote Andrew being drugged just to get him to spill his trauma without him even being a threat to anything, or look at how people react to Neil's Columbia scene).

The upperclassmen constantly ignore and violate Andrew's boundaries in very clear ways, and any normal team would have backed off ages ago (or called the cops the first time he pulled a knife) but because they're Foxes they keep pushing. (Also, for all fandom likes to make him a knife nut, look at how often he actually pulls a knife vs punches, it's either rape jokes, or him/someone under his protection being cornered, day to day he goes without). Now, of course, Andrew is a lot of the problem of keeping the team in two halves (again, something any decent coach shouldn't allow to get that extreme) as we see with how well the team works when Andrew is at Easthaven, but we don't know how much effort the upperclassmen actually make (excluding Renee of course).

The upperclassmen are often the first to lash out, and Andrew is often only retaliating, and then the monsters will be blamed. And yes, this is complete hypocrisy. But from the more general day to day treatment, not in the moment when a punch is thrown but attitudes in general, Andrew has proven himself a threat over and over, without provocation. If you can excuse Andrew drugging Neil because he's a potential threat, then why is Dan being hostile to Andrew because he's proven himself a threat different? Is it professional? Probably not, but what else can Dan do? She can't punish Andrew and Wymack seemingly can't/won't either. In Dan's mind, she is being hypervigilant and watching Andrew and taking his actions for the worst possible scenario, because Andrew has given her reason to. A simple drink to get to know each other turned into drugging her and Matt being in awful condition. Why should she give him the benefit of the doubt? Andrew wouldn't return the favour.

In many ways, Andrew and Dan are mirrors of each other. The leaders of their respective groups, both constantly trying to watch out for threats, but while Dan sees the threat she's already experienced with Andrew, Andrew considers her nothing. He's already got all her secrets and cast her aside, not caring for the damage he's done, because she and her friends are nothing to, and he doesn't feel a hint of remorse. He did what he had to, the ends justify the means, and Wymack's gone through too much to get him to risk losing him. He's on a team that doesn't care about his boundaries any more than he cares about theirs and is more than happy to play the monster if it gets the job done.

This came off a little harsh on Andrew, despite that I love him and Dan actually grates on me, but honestly the start of the series he is kind of awful and Dan I can see where she's coming from. Like, I think sometimes we also forget even Neil hates Andrew at the start of the series. Everything he did with Neil, he did with the others, it's just that Neil had the persistence, and the trauma related need to compartmentalise and move on quickly rather than hold a grudge, and a usefulness to Andrew (and yeah, let's not forget the breakthrough is Kathy's show and Andrew realising Neil is useful to him) to let him get in with Andrew so he can start to see the real him, while Andrew keeps the upperclassmen at arm's length.

And wow, congrats and thanks to anyone who read all the way through this monster ramble.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

oh lmfao edited to add. the thirty tags are maxed out but i have to work in the wordplay of: call this post-it notes

speaking of [happening to think about, then for a separate reason talk about, the film “stand by me,” an adaptation of the stephen king short story “the body”] last night, & tumblr ads reminding me, i did turn around after listening to the podcast ep extensive, research enhanced analysis / discussion of specifically the book like hey yeah yknow what. i’ll watch the It films; not the miniseries / the one with tim curry, which i saw the first half of but wasn’t really inspired to commit to the latter half. and you Know like yeah i’m truly interested in the choice to build on [stephen king kicking his legs like “whaaat are some Problems kids could have.....um being a girl.....being jewish.....having a stutter.....”] with “what if someone was gay or some shit” like yeah right on, which idk that steve ever wrote into any vaguely primary characters even though it’s markedly made textually relevant. and the cultural alignment for kleinsen enjoyers is still very funny. i forgot about even the arm cast business till halfway through. even the [break it again] joke kind of manifested lmao

anyways the point is i’m like, my two primary modes of [this experience] being expressed via [mad men meme In The Cinema seriously considering the material] and [the shot of that guy in the alternate titanic ending where he’s like ahahahaha throwing his head back and the camera is overhead zooming out a little bit] and the like Oh Hey. This Is All Coming Together? kind of [that madman cinema meme] moment hit in The Second Part because it’s like, it’s Remarkable for a stephen king story to have Adults Who Are Friends. which is where it can be cross referenced with Stand By Me, which is about kids who are friends, but Framed by like, this story is written in the future by the main kid, who wanted to be a writer & now is, mostly about his friendship with this one other kid who was like “hey man you can & should be a writer. believe” and that classic [stephen king High Concept stories] central plot impetus / definition which is “the one where some kids go on a trek to find/see a dead body” and then ending with Adult Main Kid with that classic / standout remark “i never had any friends like the ones i had when i was twelve. god, does anyone?” which is included even in the film via seeing him type it out on bulkier ye old computer terminals while his kid is now twelvish i guess and talking to a friend. after also musing on like, yeah that bestie who hyped me up the most and who i saved in turn, with a gun, tragically died. iunno where those other two kids in the group are, living kind of underwhelming lives out there probably but whatever. lmfao like man i dunno write them a letter, call them, you could do a little digging here and get in touch. but yeah it’s not gonna be Exactly The Same as when you were kids, nor exactly the same as it was when things aligned to have a brief but dramatic adventure, nor when you Could just all spontaneously decide you wanna go walking & camping to find a body & then just up & do that. but like, you can consciously make & maintain friendships i prommy my man lol. like “it’s great when things align so you Happen to have these friends when you’re twelve and you all like offer each other emotional support and can understand each other like nobody else can. but then you Will all just drift apart” like, i mean, will you. you can have friendships beyond what you just Happen to have / hope that the magic alignments will just continue falling into place for you so that those friendships still exist

and probably part of it is that it’s really mostly About the two kids who are friends even though there’s four of them, i.e. the protagonist & the moral support bestie, as well as the fact that this is a short story so there’s presumably only so much time to focus on characters at all really or delve into any setup and bg lore and whatever all else, i dunno. but thinking how it’s like, oh hey, in It it’s kind of its own serendipitous alignment of elements there to be like, here’s a group of adults where it’s peak relevant that they’re friends, for once. because afaik that really just doesn’t happen in sking stories, like, yeah adults kind of have friends but it’s Not Very Deep / it’s just kind of convenience about working together moving plots along & it’s like yeah uh i don’t fucking know i guess we see each other / hang out for dinners or post dinner drinks together or join forces about whatever fucked up shit and just talk about that, mostly....and probably people are just dropping off like flies eventually, the protagonist man of that [sooo many protags who are just some fuckin middle aged guy who’s a writer] type, and it’s also in part just because like, characters don’t really matter that much / have to be particularly distinct / Are Disposable when plenty of the point is to go “was that fucked up or what?” about whatever’s happening, so yknow you go “there was once just some fuckin guy, i dunno, he probably has a wife he’s paternalistically protective of but maybe also resents and maybe a kid or two or something, whatever....” like, being the main character doesn’t really matter, it’s just this avatar through which we are told a story of some fucked up shit and to whomst any fucked up shit can even happen, being other characters also really doesn’t matter

so it’s like huh, stand by me / the body as obviously this Ode To Twelve Year Olds’ Friendship And How Your Emotional Support Of Each Other Defines The Entire Path Of Your Life Though Mostly For The Main Character, Everyone Else Fucked Off Or Whatever like right yeah, but with that difference of how like clearly as an adult this isn’t gonna be about this guy going like “hey yeah where are those still living scamps today,” he’s reminiscing only, he’s talking about how he now doesn’t have any friends like the ones he had when he was twelve....then what changes in It is like, hmm how are these adults where the fact they’re friends actually is peak relevant? how does one remain friends with even Any childhood friends there huh. and then the fact it works out like that is like aha, well it’s because they don’t lmfao. that everyone happens to scatter to the winds at some point when it maybe will eventually rear its head amongst even their own adult guardians like hey, yknow, maybe let’s not live in murderville. or coincidence. whatever. where the point is that like oh also, everyone just magically forgets the goings on as kids including the existence of their friends, but is about to be reminded of them / remember all that, for a specific external reason rather than [adults are like hey let me try getting in touch with that mf] and already plot and magic is relevant to all of this. they’re not going to have gotten together for the shittiest high school reunion if not for the connection of Friendship, this is about adults but it’s about that childhood plotline still, so Twelve Year Olds’ Friendships still stands / is relevant, so we can even fathom these adults having a connection, b/c yes they Didn’t have it as they got older there, but now they’re jumping back into it actually, b/c magic, and because also this is Directly About (Childhood) Trauma which was also like, hey damn, even outside the stephen king oeuvre & its tendencies (solid & wretched), this is also transcending grievances i so often have with Horror, as someone who likes horror and doesn’t like horror but likes horror but doesn’t like it, and just like. questionable employment of [you Are bothering to focus on Character, and their emotional arcs being entirely relevant to the story here] when sometimes it’s like, do you need a story? the strength of horror shorts to just go “was that fucked up or what.” do you need the characters with the emotional arc relevance at all, or is it just a little avatar walking around with enough vague motivation to have / see / make fucked up shit happen? are they particularly characterized to play into some Metaphor, what’s that metaphor, is it shit, is the execution of it shit. and oftentimes Trauma is just like, idk, it’s like well here’s this person’s Weakness, and it being horror that’s more likely to make it into a Fatal Flaw, like way to have trauma you dumbass, if you were so weak as to fail to just get over it already / Overcome it, you just might be killed for it

annoying, shallow and hackneyed, insulting, etc, and it’s also like, the Individual Focused emotional journey like and here this character who’s been weakly propped up by the Stronger people supporting them will have to go through the crucible of being alone, facing down their Issue like their trauma, and getting through it in this big dramatic one and done way so they can finally stop being a pussy and an obstacle to others. or else fuck it up & die. and it’s like do you know how this works lmfao (no) why shouldn’t the support help. why should it Have to go away. why shouldn’t everyone be crowdsourcing their emotional support amongst their group lmao and never needing to “overcome” it Forever, alone. and that’s at least mostly what gets to go on in It lmfao, like, so obviously this is About Childhood Trauma. whereas It = any of the forces that make people act in ways that create, facilitate, or simply passively allow trauma. (or just some shit that really fucks shit up sometimes i guess.) and you have kids who get caught Alone getting got. but then you have a larger group of some twelvish year olds who are like alright fuck this then, and that’s enough to get through it, the same way that naturally in the less magical / more literal realm of their lives, that friend group & joining forces & providing this like actually (relatively) safe and supportive environment amongst themselves is what protects them & makes everyone a lot more of a force to be reckoned with than they are when out / caught on their own. and it just doesn’t happen to be about choosing to write about like, and then all these kids got picked off one by one anyways, despite their efforts, f. which like i guess it could be, but when the Point is so Directly about the emotional support some kids get from each other / that they Are crowdsourcing protection re: their individual vulnerabilities, that wouldn’t really emphasize that Point so much if regardless of the [having a friend group] everyone was fucked anyways. or the fact that like, again, this is About trauma and what can create it and how that can persist and all, the Magic Rules are about the emotional component of it all, when it’s like, oh this just so happens to be a magic murder entity that’s picking off kids but also prefers to torment them and/or like idk takes the route of going “oh you’re gonna hate this” and hooks up their consciousness via usb cable to the zillionth dimension void & then sips their life force through a crazy straw, or, as it would be to clown entities, a normal straw, and i dunno, that if the usb is unplugged vs eternal living death then the torment juice can give people the interdimensional premonition / telepathy across space & probably time shine(tm) like good for them i guess. call that hypervigilance?

and then that like, into the Adults timeline, not only is there this cheat like woops a stephen king story where adults are friends b/c they’ve reconnected the usb cables where the [friends like the ones i had when i was twelve] has now become immediately relevant and active again, i was like, mad man cinema contemplation meme a bit confused going into the second half until i realized some particular fact of the plot And it was slowly like....we’re kind of goofin huh, is this Being Funnier? b/c i mean, the first one wasn’t not ever funny or like otherwise not super solemn & heavy, and also i’m just Used to horror to the point it’s not gonna like bother me probably, i was watching alone and turned off the lights b/c i couldn’t adjust my screen’s lighting levels & the overhead light in here was gonna create glare via the mirror behind me, and i didn’t think anything of it at any point, i had to also be like “@ me, okay stop saying ‘me’ the moment you realize anything [A Scary Moment] is transpiring for no especial reason,” and yknow, it’s like a roller coaster to me, or i’d say like being tickled except actually i hate that one & will start physically fighting lol, where it’s like yeah aaaaaa but it’s fun & i’m Humored really, i’m experiencing the [horror & comedy are two sides of the same coin], when i’m startled or going like oooh that was, to be sure, creepy, it’s still like, ahaha, i’m figuratively tickled, going :] at the screen, i especially liked the same [ooh hehe yeah that’s eerie] type of moments in both halves like yeah very [your standard marble hornets enjoyer] of me....but anyways so then it did take me an extra few moments maybe in the second half like oh is this Markedly More Humorous? oh it is, then....sort of unexpected but then it immediately makes sense and was Fascinating like, oh, this is so In Conversation With the first movie and with the Overall Story here lmao. like, we are illustrating the Perspective Shift, the [kids timeline] is still relevant and defines everything that’s going on, but they Are adults now and That itself is relevant. b/c otherwise it’s like, it Is just the same situation played over again lmfao like damn we were the [kids fight & defeat a murder sewer clown monster] and now we’re the [adults fight & defeat a murder sewer clown monster]. and Of Course It Makes Sense for there to be overall more Drama for the kids, who are more so just living & immersed in their normal lives in that storyline, and of course, Are Kids, where like anything “was that fucked up or what” that’d happen would be more intense & threatening, and sure applying that perspective like, not only “yeah i’m just experiencing some media, but if that was really happening in life that’d be fucked up, if it was happening for real to me, i’d be like, whoa uh oh holy shit aaaa” lmao, and then an Additional layer of “and if i was twelve” like “yeah aaaa oh shit” way compounded by that, naturally. 

but then i’m Also like, listen, i’d be more like halfway through my 27 yr time jump but i’m the adult with cptsd lmao and so i’m Madmen In The Theatreing because of this angle as well, and intrigued, positively, by the uptick in levity about everything. wherein it’s like okay, it’s sure Also true that like, undo the [and if you were twelve] angle, but The Same kind of fucked up shit happening would of course still be like well this sucks, and is startling, to Anyone who’s an adult, right. But Also like, again the way it’s relevant to touch base with the [kids] timeline, because that’s Defining Everything, this isn’t just “and they’re adults which means everyone’s just tougher than they were when they were kids” and That’s That, it’s like, these are adults who were these specific kids with specific experiences vulnerable to and exposed to bonus trauma, and now this is a “time to jump back in to a head on confrontation with that” plotline but As A Group again rather than this being just the story of like any individuals, or just the main kid/guy, who is now to be sure the [the middle aged writer guy of a stephen king story] lmfao, congrats....and you had [repressed memories but like, magically extensively encompassing] as the device here to as what allows for this outlier scenario of like “but how can adults possibly maintain friendships formed organically in their youth? well, they didn’t lol. but now they’re back.” and the past Has to be relevant and freshly Active because again, this Is directly about trauma lol, not just about whatever broader thing and anyone might secretly have this Hangup or two that’ll get them got. and they all Know this lol, this may be some exclusive knowledge more broadly, but this is Not a secret amongst this group of adults like ah yes my marinating issues that nobody suspects i have....which is a bonus to [even though they’re adults in a stephen king story they don’t all or even mostly have to die] and then like, as i am trying to get around to, that it’d be Different being just any adult approaching this as a new situation to them vs being an adult With Trauma(tm) lol like. the way that one might go “well, this would suck for anyone, but i have a different vulnerability b/c [cptsd involving this shit]” but Then Also the resilience that nobody should have to have and it’s technically a “strength” even though then actually people interpret their [lack of honed ability through direct life experience to cope indefinitely with traumatic experiences] as the strength, a la “wow why’s that person put up with that, i wouldn’t stand for it b/c isn’t it So Clearly Bad & Unpleasant?” victim blaming mentality and people “used” to that shit “putting up with” said shit, which other people would throw up their hands like Wow Just No and walk away from. which in turn isn’t a “weakness” lmao like, there’s no moral judgments to being someone w/trauma or someone without it. that people shouldn’t Have to have cptsd or Resilience, of course, but then that they do. i’m certainly relating to like, yeah it’s Magic Rules / Exaggeration the way that only people young enough can detect & deal with this shit directly, the first time around, and then that they still have access to it as adults presumably b/c of that exposure as kids and because [the childhood trauma doesn’t just Go Away b/c you grew up, even though Also people just think that it ought to or like wow so immature or wow you’re Letting it affect you too strongly still, huh] etc. and anyways, relating to like, yeah enjoyed the way some adults would just be cool & generally supportive, but i also only had so much access to such adults, all Through parents or via school where it’s like, yeah but all the adults there have to Make Sure You’re Behaving Properly in various ways that lead to [punitive] ends and if anyone’s being like particularly supportive / understanding that’s a personal individual choice & they’re probably going Above & Beyond. kind of impressed how useless, and actively unhelpful / counterproductive, any adults were later on when i was dealing with it all the more / had it coming to a head in ways lol, didn’t have an epic friend group i hung out with at twelve or ever who Knew Me that well or i shared anything with or got lifechanging emotional support from, but there Were occasions of like, yeah these peers get it, huh. and now with the perspex of [cptsd having adult] it’s like, yeah, i’d have repeated dreams of parents showing up & i start physically fighting them off with like a shovel and shit lmfao. even now when i rarely have dreams ft. like a more general monster / menacing figure, like i did last night, go figure, Dream Me is always like Oh Okay and immediately physically charges them unarmed lmfao. (also had a dream cameo where some guy on a home computer who was making up like building / engineering schematics? was a Wrole like omg hey buddy. unfortunately a limited interaction, that plot got quickly waylaid by the one where i launch myself at some entity. booo) i can be like “ah, here goes the adrenal response” mostly only noticing sometimes when it’s like, my physical tension has gone to the point of [i can notice my legs/knees shaking], i can also Not Notice It / not think of it b/c you know, it’s like this is truly mundane / everyday shit, in the Relative / Comparative way that it can be. it can be stealth mission time to do some ordinary shit like you live in a survival horror game. it can also go “yeah i could very easily see how if, say, there was this manifestation of trauma / the shit that causes/facilitates/sustains/allows it, i’d go sicko mode on that shit just immediate physical attack” lmao. i know if i’m startled it’s like, that can be a) ordinary, and/or b) unpleasant, and probably c) immediately followed by my being ready to go sicko mode, possibly being a bit pissed off lol. like i can’t even be worried like oh no it’s nighttime what if something was menacing. like yeah that’d be scary and suck, i might get got, i’d also immediately be pissed off like fucking try me you asshole. and it’s like, again the way comedy is A Framework, it’s not what happens when a situation is Lighthearted, Unserious, Frivolous, etc. the like, obvious fact like wow people who are funny can be sad? can have had some fucked up, Serious experiences? can even joke about that? like yeah of course humor can be Deliberately Employed To Cope, including to even communicate about shit, where you’re cueing hard like, i’m not necessarily collapsing under the weight of this right now but it’s a reality and when i’m telling you about it with Humor it’s not in turn asking for you to fix it or even do anything about it at all except be listening to / comprehending the info i’m giving you. and that even looking back on shit can be funny To You because it’s just like, sure Elevated and can be a bit absurd. so it’s like oh yeah of course it’d be funnier, in a way characters are aware of & actively interacting with lmfao. like of course any adult would be like “jesus christ. yikes. aaaa” lol while also being more inclined and able to tackle bullshit right off, but Also being specifically an adult with the [this is your childhood trauma] can be like, yes i’m both still affected by and vulnerable to this shit, but i’m Also less vulnerable than some rando might be, actually, and prepared to / more used to this, and able to go “jesus christ yikes aaaa lmfaooo ahaha” about it. like, i feel that lol. 

paragraph break just because that one was getting Extra long: oh and also the matter of Genre Awareness, that this isn’t just some fucked up shit that happens to be scary and fuck your shit up, but this is expressly an antagonist coming after you with the intention to be scary to you, and you Know that, you are aware you’re in a Horror Genre situation lmao, so meta, surely helpful. and sure sometimes i felt the like comedy vs horror; comedy vs drama sometimes didn’t transition perfectly like, my kind of feeling ambivalent at this one point like uhhh is this scene more straightforwardly dramatic? hmm i guess it was. well anyways. but that’s fine, meanwhile continually delighted even to realize like, here we are going over this all again but with this Shifted Perspective / Framework, we’re clearly goofin a bit. and like how i can clap & cheer like ooh yeah that was creepy lmfao, i got Got comedically like idfk dozen times or what all. ahehe....not to mention the [i Am going insane. society] experience of scrungy expression spit take coughing laughter when overlaying [titanic guy going HaHaHaHaHaHaHa XD as the camera lifts away from overhead] upon [mad man serious contemplation of cinema png] while experiencing like wow the gay Text is more textual than i though, more extensive, turns out i had some things to go into entirely afresh without going “oh yeah, i remember what i osmosis’d about this” to then go :0 =0 about, or that i didn’t quite get Everything through osmosising that i did recall, to then spit take about and become titanic guy fifty times over. i Am a bit joker mode, you really just have to be. and laughing about [when stephen king and PPL go “you know this type of guy” and we all go “yeah i guess. i know Of them [possible knowing looks amongst ourselves, or to the camera]” and then they go “you know how they’re—” and then our answers of “maybe like gay or some shit” overlaps with their “just another heterosexual amongst all the rest of us, unless we’re gay, but we’re talking about how all the protagonists we write are cishet i guess?” like. haha. what an alignment, good for everyone in the overlap....oh and i was like ahahaha when the podcast discussion of The Book Specifically nevertheless had one guy knowing the lore already that the stephen king cameo here as Some Secondhand / Pawn Shop Type Place Owner Guy was someone who, in stephe’s (not a typo, making stephe as = steven happen, with particular enunciation of the ph vs v) own written text as the description of That Guy in the book, is like, this gay caricature who is like wearing some mesh or i think they said it said “fishnet” shirt and like clearly reading this gay porn mag. because how else would someone be gay lmfao? how else would you Know you’ve encountered one of them?? lmfao like, a) i also agree with the podcasters who are like, stephe’s a coward for not staying true to that specific description he wrote when cameo’ing as that person, and b) like, people are gay, stephe....but classic matters of [running down a hallway going Noooo and knocking shit down behind you while being chased by [the way stephen king writes about [take your pick] and/or just like, what do you think is going on in life re: [take your pick] exactly, stephen king, i swear] lol)

anyways This has turned into [gif of the guy emphatically pointing at a laptop and also at some unseen listener to this Serious Monologue] because i have endless things to say about anything. the point it it’s like, well hey i think that was remarkably successful re: choosing to have Characters with Emotional Arcs tied to a Metaphor in this horror media, when usually i’m like, the execution of this is so shit that it’s like, just don’t have characters lol, don’t try to make it a metaphor (although you know, difficult for it not to be tied to anything irl, so don’t be unaware of how it Could be), if it’s gonna be this kind of a mess. the fact that like, you can’t have [trauma] be a character weakness fatal flaw that gets them got b/c they weren’t individually Strong Enough, b/c this is All About a) having & interacting with that [trauma] first and foremost and b) how having a group of relationships affects that (helpfully). my pleasant surprise about how like yeah of course you can’t just make the exact same movie again but i wasn’t necessarily expecting a noticeably more outright comedic angle for round two, but duly kinda delighted by it, and that felt very Appropriate and Verisimilitudinous for the new angle of And You’re Completely Grown. that stephen king Rarely writes about relevant friendships and all the more rarely to never writes about relevant friendships between Adults but whoops, that happened here, b/c there was a magical workaround where “drifting apart” was not entirely congruous to the real life literal actual way that’d happen, and b/c the way this is about childhood trauma means that the Rest of that childhood is relevant to adulthood / adult identities, and he ends up with “god, does anyone?” being answered by “yeah, sometimes” lol. and yeah being a deh enjoyer / being haunted byer / analyzer means anytime something is About the connections someone, say a young person for one, might make and how that can be relevant to All Their Issues, i’m sitting up & taking notes like oh ya don’t say. that stephen king shit overall is like, well this is Interesting and i could talk all day but i’m also like, personally more ambivalent and bound to run over like hey stephe i’m shoving you around, bitch. until we form an unlikely, begrudging alliance to instead go after stanley kubrick, then boo the the shining movie, but whatever. the the shining book ending, one of the few things i particularly remember from actually reading that one, is true like, stephen king endings tending to be a hot mess that maybe aren’t super successful but here we are and it was like, why’d it get so goofy all of a sudden lmfao like i’m telling you with the schrodinger’s boiler that’s old and temperamental and if you don’t maintain it it’ll blow up probably, and that the way things end in the book is the [middle aged dime a dozen writer man protag] being possessed by a hotel is like oh fuck me lmfao, not the boiler i can’t maintain myself even though i’m possessing a hotel, it hasn’t been maintained, and then as always in any of these stories things go off the rails and yakety sax starts to play while after hanna barbera cartoon scrambling in place for a second, your haunted hotel avatar starts sprinting to the basement or wherever it was but Too Late, it blows up and the hotel dies kind of. and that’s kinda fun and funny lol but yknow, put it back in. beating up kubrick aside, i’ve seen all of? nigh all of? wasn’t paying much attention. the movie and it’s like oh okay whatever. but as with like [anything stephen king] and my not even being born till the 90s, it’s like, i can’t possibly experience this afresh, we can all agree that surely this is the best known stephen king work b/w book & film adaptation, even among biggies that really just permeate pop culture overall, who can know what i’d think if these things were New and pre [own significant influence on relevant genres / mediums] or also i was a younger reader/viewer at the times as people could often be. but i was like....expression where you scrunch your face up and look to the side like “are you seeing this” bemusement like...this is. fine i guess? it’s not really scary lmfao. and regardless, resurrecting kubrick to beat him up. but on that note it’s also funny that god knows why i ever mentioned the hypothetical of watching the shining once in passing to my mom, it would’ve been humorous / not in earnest b/c no way would i have been suggesting we watch that or even that i had watched it necessarily, so i Think i must’ve just been informing her of some things that were on tv at that moment with some goofy but technically accurate suggestions like that one, and she is a bit indignant like clearly disapproving of the general idea because, as she says, she doesn’t think it’s Right to tell kids they should ever be afraid of their parents. but between “but like. they go axe murder possessed by a hotel mode here, wherein i think it’s very appropriate?” and [someone who watches It and keeps looking into the camera one zillion times / is fascinated by the fact it’s like oh wow, any horror talking about What If You Had Trauma that isn’t like fundamentally misguided throughout and probably egregiously insulting about it] i take a perfectly comedically timed pause and then we freeze frame on my doing a spit take Laugh into my own drink. not actually in the real moment lol, i just Say Nothing and file that one away lmfao

oh and as a little postscript here i want to shoutout my going “just like Watch Your Step in goosebumps the musical the phantom of the auditorium” where it’s like, schrodinger’s warning about how a kid could just up and accidentally die via this trapdoor or like anywhere anytime, but you don’t really realize that b/c you’re kids, but I’m Telling You. and like, he’s right in general to be sure, you can just die, as well as unknowingly right of course like oops yeah some kid did just up and suddenly die via this trapdoor, grimly. and that’s Stand By Me / The Body handshake emoji It, like of course that mortality is ever relevant particularly in horror, but that also it’s like, kids realizing the reality and Proximity of that, like You Can Die, this could be you or could’ve been you. [horror, and it’s middle schoolers] wins again

[kirstinmaldonado]

CHAPTER TEN 2.0

I had a horrible migraine Monday night. It was one of those that you feel after holding back tears all day, or letting it out all day, it was centered right in-between the eyes on the upper bridge of my nose. My eyes sweltered under discomfort. The icepacks or a cool touch to the head, something my mom would always do (she always has cold hands), couldn’t even console me. I didn’t feel feverish at all, but the pain was sharp and pulsating like a nervous heartbeat, over and over, until I couldn’t concentrate on TV or anything anymore I just had to go to bed and hope I could fall asleep. 

I rarely get those kinds of headaches, that placement and severity. I’m usually fortunate to pass with dull, achey, temple headaches; and even my hangovers are never so pointed and jab-like.

My mom on the other hand, has dealt with migraines for years. I remember her pain as a kid, waking up in the morning wondering where she was, only to find her in the dark in her room, barely able to speak sometimes. I was always so sad to see her in such anguish, all alone in the dark. Silent. Still. While her head throbbed as if a brass band was playing “The Music Man” at too loud a decibel.

We watched a lot of horror films, my mom and I. In contrast to all the Disney films, I grew up on Jeepers Creepers, Scream, Final Destination and all the Freddy, Jason, true horror classics (yes, and all seven billion of their sequels). When she would be in bed, in the dark, we’d joke that she was a vampire needing her rest and that she needed to stay in the dark unbothered, and that lightheartedness to the situation made us smile and contented us.

Monday, Ben asked if migraines ran in my family, and though I told him about my mother’s constant battle with them the last couple years I was hoping mine felt more situational as opposed to genetic. Fingers crossed on that, and kudos to mom and those who get migraines for sticking it out cause they can be a big B-I-T-C-H.

I say situational, because it’s been A WEEK to say the least, with big things and confrontations happening in the public eye and in my own private life. The last two weeks have been incredibly eye-opening, painful, uncomfortable, moving, you name it. An entire rainbow of emotions (Happy Pride, by the way, cuties, I haven’t forgotten about you all).

I feel as if I’ve transformed into a new person with big, wide, new eyes, shedding some old skin that felt a little naive and a little out of touch with how the world, not should work, but how it’s REALLY been working. I’ve been talking to my black friends and fans, talking to my Hispanic family and hearing their stories, and talking amongst my friends and respected mentors. I’ve been doing some soul-searching and digging through memories of my own cop experiences (one, for example, at 17 with two white males [we were pulled over and eventually surrounded by 4 armed cop cars that got us out of the car, surrounded us, and wouldn’t tell us why] and wondering but knowing how that situation could have been if they were black), my jokes of being white-washed or assimilating in to white culture and not focusing on my own, and me coloring my hair blonde and wearing colored contacts not MY brown eyes for so much of my life and wondering what the intention of it all was for. Was it genuine or was I doing it to fit in, did I think it made me prettier, or more likable? Did I think or know that it would get me roles, because many ingenues or leading ladies at the time didn’t look like me?

At a point, at multiple points, all the things I’d uncover or watch in recent news had my stomach hard and in knots. Every new clip made me feel like I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t stop now that I had SEEN.

I was confused. Hurt. Believing what I’d seen, but needing other facts as if I was missing something completely because it all did not make sense to me. How COULD it?

I apologize for all the reposts and rants, but I hope it’s stayed in line with being something you should SEE, regardless of if its uncomfortable or not, so that you KNOW what is happening, while also trying to call action to addressing the issue but moving FORWARD towards a solution. I don’t want violence on my page. But now it’s hard to turn a blind eye.

The organized BLM LA protest on May 30th changed my life. After the speeches, we wanted to continue marching, moving, using our freedom of speech and combining our white, brown, black, and all colors in-between of voices so that we could be ONE VOICE UNITED to be HEARD. 

I don’t think I went to the front lines because I was white-passing and felt safer, or because I was a woman so could be “less a threat.” I went because my black allies, who I didn’t even know, asked us to because the front was starting to get unnecessarily violent. I went because I had done nothing wrong and planned on doing nothing wrong. I went, in a way, to be an innocent. Because if I was in the front with no bad intention, the people beside and behind me would be okay.

As we walked through the crowds, their hands on my shoulders, their thanks, flared something visceral deep inside of me and I knew I was here to protect and mediate, and in a way, fighting against hate in whatever form as if I was a newborn Avenger. Someone cried out “I love this, this is what this movement is for!” and that has stayed with me as so many lighter-skinned protesters made their way to the front. Because that IS what this is for. Not to divide, but to unite to fight for justice against those that have unnecessarily been wronged.

I’ll never forget one black man that my friends and I urged to stay back beside us in the lines that had pushed to the front. He was angry. Upset. Hurt. Defiled. I’d never understood the pain the black community felt. But as we tried to reassure him, block him from the batons (from THAT COP), bring him back to the safety of the group, when I was hit in the ribs and the face as collateral because he would have been hit so much worse, the last thing he said as we pulled him back was “I want them to hear me.” And suddenly I felt holding him and consoling him was wrong, like I was a part of stealing his voice from him even though all I wanted was to keep him safe. Suddenly I felt so upset, so angry; although, of course, I’ll never even know HALF of that feeling as a non-black person who, to my knowledge, has never been treated differently for their identity.

I’ll never forget the way he said it. With so much hurt and pain, the anger fading in to just pure anguish and loss.

I felt like I’d silenced someone, so all I could do was get back to the front. It was my turn to be silent and let their voices carry behind me.

I’m sure you’ve seen the video going around, the stillness before the cops were ordered presumably to push the line back. While I can have a whole blog post of levels and steps they could have taken before the cop bashed through my canvas sign with his baton, you can look at the video and see for yourself. People getting hit because they were at the front, with no provocation. The man striking me with a baton, honestly probably because I had said openly to watch out for him, because he was showing a LOT of premature violence, because of how quickly he went after the man we were protecting; yet then only pushing the white girl next to me with his hand, even though she unfortunately was struck multiple times from another officer.

All awful!! All taken a step too far. I’ve never been more in shock. Ben was trying to pull me off the floor so I wouldn’t get stepped on. Our friends were hit by rubber bullets. Our other friends on another street running from tear gas.

The tear gas, the rubber bullets, the bruises and the ache have *I PRAY* started to leave Los Angeles as all the protests have started to become more peaceful and more organized. Since, I’ve been to three and they were all just, beautiful, and moving, each one getting better and bigger as the week went on. I carry a sense of pride and love seeing the aerial footage of all the people Sunday, and I think back to what my May 30 experience was compared to June 7th. I heard it was the largest protest yet. And while I felt like a sardine in a can, it was so packed, it was beautiful and it’s a memory I’ll hold forever!

I sidebar to say, I may no longer be cheering at the literal protesting frontlines with you for a while  — I must return to Texas soon for family so must safely quarantine  —  but know the fight for equality, for justice has not ended just because it’s not trending anymore! I think I’m gonna have to shackle myself to my house so I won’t leave, haha, but know there is so much you can be doing from your home! As my grandma said, after the protests which are the catalysts and the calls for change the REAL reformative work begins!! And the road is long! 

The most important thing, in my humble opinion, is to show up. To not be afraid. To ask the questions. To educate yourself through your friends with their experiences or through history.

Humbly, you must think, but what even can I do to help?

Showing up isn’t JUST protesting. It’s signing petitions. Donating to charities. It’s calling local reps. It’s doing the research and thinking, what can I do to lend my voice to help create a better world for all and doing it authentically if even imperfectly because deep down you also want to right these injustices and demand change! Do it in public. Do it in private. But do it because you believe in it!

I know everything feels a bit dark and overwhelming right now! The amount of times I’ve needed a “break” and then wanted to cry because my black friends and fans don’t get the opportunity to take “breaks” is countless. But your mental health is important for you to be the strongest ally you can be!

And if you’re afraid of backlash, understand that many are hurt. I know many feel nervous to speak up in a damned if I do, damned if I don’t kind of way. But EACH of your voices are, and have always been so, so important. And each and every one of you have an important say and CHOICE/VOTE in to where we lead our country!

Someone told me this week that although sunflowers follow the sun, when it is cloudy and dark, they turn to face each other and share their energy!

I don’t know if that’s a million percent scientifically accurate, but the sentiment brought me to tears. In times of darkness, we should all be able to lean on each other for support.

We can all be sunflowers in the dark. <3

Love you all.

[bomberqueen17]

48k

So I’ve been noodling furiously away for a while now, interspersed with work on other stuff, on this story, which turned into kind of a series, and then the sidebar, and now I’ve folded that back in, and it turns out I currently have 48,000 words that basically boil down to “geralt’s brothers are sort of fucked-up at the end of W3 and I want them to have a happy ending”.

but like

48,000 words and there’s nothing I’m ready to post yet, and about 20k of it is going to have to be entirely rewritten in light of the things I’ve been figuring out about Keira’s gender-or-not, and I just had to go back and add Li’l Bleater in but don’t worry I didn’t forget her.

[It was Eskel’s damn goat. Lambert forgotten they’d brought her here. Li’l… something. Probably not Li’l Shitter. Li’l… something-er. Fuck. Well, it didn’t matter, goats didn’t care what you called them. He fed her a turnip, and tried not to think about Eskel, who was out there somewhere as lonely as he was. Where would Eskel go for the winter? Fuck. He went back to his horse. ]

Maybe I’ll get this beaten into some kind of shape soon, and maybe it won’t ever be anything, but dang, I definitely wrote a bunch of it.

Well, here’s a snippet of Eskel and the succubus, anyway. Her name is Karima and I love her.

Karima huddled in on herself and he gave her one of his blankets from his bedroll, which she wrapped around herself until nothing showed but her horns and nose at the top, and her hooves at the bottom. “Thanks,” she said, muffled. An owl hooted and she flinched a little, lowering the blanket to peer over her shoulder.

“Not much hunts Witchers,” Eskel said placidly.

She eyed him instead, the fire gleaming in her rectangular pupils. “What’s it like being an apex predator?” she asked.

“Not great,” Eskel said. “You’d think it’d be nice but it’s really not. Just means whatever’s dumb enough to come after you has absolutely no sense whatsoever.”

... not that much hunts succubi, who apparently can throw fire and also fuck you up with their hooves, but like. (apparently they’re distantly related to chorts. that’s fuckin sweet.) (I’m working up my own headcanons about how they reproduce and I think they spend a while pretty little so maybe they’re fierce as adults but they don’t forget they started out as prey.)

[overclocksaa]

mindwipe: world’s most wanted - present

i keep putting off actually talking about the ins and outs of this because it’s awful and terrible and all kinds of painful, but it’s probably better to just bandaid it and get it done.  i don’t even have to have my standard “forget what the mcu told you” warning for this because disney probably wouldn’t touch this part of it with a ten foot pole (well, technically i guess they kind of did with the whole barf nonsense but only in an oblique way so you can forget the barf nonsense if you want to - it doesn’t apply to 616).

so.  i mention the mindwipe a lot, in my rambling, in tags, in threads, because it’s kind of one of the (newer) foundations upon which tony’s modern characterization is built, at least since the post-civil war era forward.  and to understand why it’s such a huge part of his characterization you have to go back to civil war and move forward.

so in 616, civil war started over a piece of (american) legislation.  the superhuman registration act (you’ll see it basically referred to as shra literally everywhere, including the actual canon bc that’s a mouthful) was - at a passing glance - similar to the sokovia accords (yes, you can throw the sokovia accords in the trash, too), but was in actuality a much more insidious thing.

disclaimer: it’s my personal belief - and the place i approach civil war from - that 1. no one was right on either side of the war.  tony did things that weren’t good, steve did things that weren’t good, they both tore each other down until they ended up in that street with tony begging steve to finish it and kill him, a lot of mistakes were made on both sides.  there’s a reason the universes where things don’t come to a head either have tony and steve off the playing field or working together to fix shra into something they can accept.  and 2. that there was some emotional manipulation of tony on the pro-shra side of things and that miriam sharpe wasn’t on the up and up completely, because there’s a ton of evidence that’s exactly the case though it’s never strictly spelled out; whether it was orchestrated by the government to get the superheroes under their thumb, the skrulls, or by norman osborn is anyone’s guess, but someone was pulling the strings.

don’t touch my tinfoil hat.

okay, so let’s talk about shra.  something like it had been in the works for a very long time, spawning from all kinds of anti-mutant legislation and swelling to encompass all powered people and those of the superhero profession.  the claim was that left as they were, they were dangerous, and stamford was used as the straw that broke the camel’s back to bring it to the forefront.  sidebar:  stamford, connecticut was the site of one of those national tragedies, you know, one of those things that’s going to haunt the entire country forever.  basically, the new warriors - a group of superheroes because there are several groups of superheroes in 616, not just the avengers - were filming a reality show about being superheroes (kind of like a superhero version of cops, i guess, is that reference too old?) and ran into some seriously nasty bad guys hiding out in this little town. one of those was a guy called nitro, who basically can blow up at will.  well, when confronted, what do you think he did?  that’s right, he blew the fuck up.  in front of a school.   casualties were enormous, the avengers themselves spent a lot of time recovering survivors and bodies.  it was awful.

m-day also plays a role here (you know, where wanda was literally like “no more mutants” and like literally almost the entire population of the world’s mutants suddenly weren’t mutants anymore and a whole lot of other things happened and there was house of m and...it’s a long story, you should read the relevant comics for more info if you want), because it’s the real reason shra (or its predecessor) was even relevant at the time of stamford.  not entirely relevant to mindwipe but still good to know.

so basically shra worked like this:  if you were of the superhero type and did things as a superhero, it was required by law you reveal your identity and register with the government.  obviously a lot of superheroes had a real big problem with this (see: peter parker revealed his identity as spider-man and then immediately regretting that decision and going to the other side in the war).  it wasn’t necessarily public knowledge?  but hinky enough people who didn’t need to see it could probably find a way to actually see it. it was dangerous.  it was a bad idea, it’ll never not be a bad idea.   hell, i’m convinced tony knew it was a bad idea even if he was pro-shra simply because as much as he later is like “i did what i did because it was the right thing to do” what it basically translates to is “someone had to be on that side of things to make sure everyone else stayed safe and it might as well have been me”.  

there was also some other terms and stipulations within shra that aren’t exactly relevant to the mindwipe that’ll i’ll talk about another day, but it basically included having to get a license to superhero and undergo training and there was the 50 states initiative and...it was involved.

so flash forward a bit to cap almost killing tony in the street and realizing what he’s doing and letting himself be taken into custody before he can actually go through with it.  at this point tony’s already director of shield and they have a little chat (and by little chat i mean steve is furious with tony) about tony’s mental health and what extremis has done to tony and whether or not this means tony’s won and it’s a mess.  they don’t end that conversation on a good note.  it’s more...”well, you’re a sore loser, captain america.”  “you bet.”

flash forward a teeny bit and steve’s being taken to his arraignment, notices a laser sight on the guard leading him up the steps, jumps in front of it to take the bullet, chaos everywhere, and the next thing you know, steve rogers is dead.  (well, only kinda dead, there’s a princess bride joke in there somewhere but civil war and steve’s death makes me sad and tired and i can’t make it.)

cue tony losing his shit. i don’t mean he gets a little sad.  i mean he locks himself in with steve’s body on the helicarrier and at first talks to it like steve is alive and sitting there and willing to listen before he utterly and completely breaks down and by the end is ugly crying so fucking hard you probably wouldn’t even be able to understand him if you could hear him.  also secondary disclosure:  i’m in the camp that this - the confession - is about as close to a love confession from tony stark to steve rogers you’re ever going to see (and it’s not like...one of those slight of hand things, guys, it’s pretty blatant) and of course it happens while steve is dead because it’s safe to do it, there’s no fear of rejection.  he can do it and try to move on.

spoiler:  tony does not move on.

tony’s supposed to give steve’s eulogy.  he manages to get the podium.  and he manages to try to start.  and then he promptly breaks down and walks away and sam wilson ends up doing it instead (and does it very well, for the record).  also it turns out the body in arlington is a life model decoy, and tony, jan, and (skrull)hank end up having a private funeral for steve where the avengers originally found him in the ice.  tony does a little better, it’s private, it’s people that know him intimately that he doesn’t have to wear a mask for, and he’s able to be genuine.   and they send steve off.  with an ominous bit at the end where jan talks about how they’re all just going to have to move on now, right tony?   tony?  as tony doesn’t hear a word she says because he’s watching steve’s coffin sink into the deep, now under the care of namor the sub-mariner.

things really just go downhill from there.

tony’s dealing with the pressures of being director of shield, running the 50 states initiative, running the mighty avengers (he says carol’s in charge but he micromanages to a ridiculous degree), being turned into a jan clone with a bad haircut by ultron, hints there’s something weird going on in oklahoma (which turns out to be the mandarin), old friends become grudge-carrying villains...tony starts to crack a little.  he has a few literal, actual nervous breakdowns, he’s hardly ever out of the armor, he gets put on psych leave...and he starts having hallucinations.  not just any hallucinations, mind, not that any are fun, but these are directly extremis-related.  ghosts of the dead that tony blames himself for, showing up to deliver information tony’s brain has processed and stored in the guilt center of the brain.  and they’re vivid.  full on full sensory experience, from being able to smell sal kennedy’s blood to feeling steve start to crush his windpipe.

he gets a letter from steve from the lawyer handling his estate telling him not to let the dream die - that even that far in steve still trusted tony like that above anyone else - and tony tries to do that.  first, he hands clint barton the shield, because clint was part of steve’s first team after the ice, but that’s a bust and clint tells tony that he might has well have pulled the trigger on steve himself later.  then along comes bucky barnes deciding the only thing he can do for steve is kill tony stark, and instead ends up the new captain america after tony talks him down and shows him the letter steve left him.

people worry.  tony pushes on.

and then the skrull invasion happens, norman osborn (you might know him as the villain known as the green goblin) sets himself up as a hero, and gets put in charge of shield, while tony is unceremoniously fired.   well, he and maria hill.  tony knows osborn’s gonna come after him once he realizes that tony’s duped him on the shra database - tony set up a decoy to take care of that leaving one copy in existence as soon as osborn tries to access it:  tony himself.  so there’s only one thing to do, right.  get rid of that last existing copy.

when maria hill tells you you’re crazy for wanting to wipe your brain considering how tony and maria grate like sandpaper against each other...maybe...it’s not a good idea.  not that it being a bad idea stops tony whatsoever.  he starts a slow delete of his brain, using the suits as tools to help that along as he runs from place to place to stay ahead of osborn.  to maria, he entrusts a job of retrieving a harddrive from the old futurepharm building (hey that sounds familiar right guys) in oklahoma, where she almost ends up a battery for the controller (an old school iron man villain) until she gets free and beelines straight for black widow for help.  pepper he leaves to putting down stark industries and a suit of her own, rescue.

lots of shit happens as tony’s brain slowly deletes itself, the details of which aren’t important, but that ends with osborn catching up to tony in afghanistan after his mind’s mostly gone and with osborn bashing tony’s brains in on live tv for the whole world to see.  While wearing a red, white, and blue set of armor bc osborn is dumb and thought trying to mush together iron man and captain america into one symbol was a great idea.  it’s also built from tony’s own tech but kind of...a shoddy copy, because repulsor technology is not a thing tony left behind for osborn to get his hands on.

the result of this, and the brain deletion, is that tony ends up in a persistent vegetative state with massive amounts of brain damage.  he’s on life support.  osborn tries to pull the plug, but let’s be real, even a tony breaking down is smarter than norman osborn, and he’s left that in the hands of donald blake.  yes.  that donald blake.  thor donald blake.

so what happens, right, we’re finally at the meat of this where tony’s deleted his entire brain and everything that is tony stark is gone.   this should, theoretically, be the end, right? well, tony had a plan in case it was, but...never count tony stark out just because things look bleak.  a bunch of people start coming together:  donald/thor, steve (who’s back from the dead by the way, tony isn’t aware of of it bc he’s been on the run), bucky (who’s the current captain america at the time), rhodey, maria, dr. lisk.  it turns out pepper’s suit has a recording for them, and it’s tony, from before all of this really got rolling on his last day as director shield explaining what’s happening and how to handle it, and you can read those pages here, if you want.

after that recording there’s instructions on how to basically boot tony from disk.  pepper’s rt is transferred from her to tony, while her suit is stripped down because the wiring is needed.  the harddrive maria got, labeled x, has connectors that only fit old extremis ports in tony, and that has to be connected.  they need captain america’s shield because it’s a vibranium alloy, and they need thor/thor’s lightning to turn the rt on. that’s supposed to be it.  that’s supposed to get tony upright and walking and talking again.

spoiler:  it doesn’t work.

steve leaves, and goes to fetch stephen strange to see if a...different kind of treatment will help, and this basically ends with a trip inside of tony’s head, where he’s reliving the same scenario over and over again with the fragments of his memories that are left, refusing to basically wake up.  stephen cajoles him, gets him moving in the right direction, gets tony motivated to confront what’s keeping him inside his own head (which is full of symbolism, he keeps finding teeth with...personally that makes sense, dreaming of teeth is supposed to be a sign of stress and boy if there was ever someone that probably has a lot of teeth dreams...).  he wakes up, kicks ghost’s ass while rhodey and stephen both are down and out because things have gone badly on the real world end, and promptly asks, “what the hell happened to you guys?”

the next time steve shows up to the hotel they’ve basically taken over, now that tony’s up and moving, he asks dr. lisk how tony is and dr. lisk does that thing any normal person would do when having some bad news to deliver to captain america and not wanting to be the one to do it:  he squirms and waffles and gets steve Concerned and Irritated until he finally asks if anyone knows how long ago tony made that backup because there are things tony should know that he doesn’t.  that he’s missing time - a lot of it.

so here we are.  it’s taken us a long time to get here for what’s probably going to seem anticlimactic but bear with me a little longer.  so what does lisk mean by this, right, what does he mean tony’s missing time?  well, tony remembers up through forming the new avengers with steve.  he remembers getting extremis, a little bit after that.  and then...nothing.  not a single damn thing until he wakes up in a school basement.  a lot of people see it as a cop out.  a refusal to accept the consequences of his actions during civil war, but that’s stupid, because tony never, ever denies any of it even if he can’t remember.  he never complains about how he’s treated because of it.  hell, he never really asks any questions.  he has eyes.  he can read.  he can watch old news reports.  he knows exactly what happened even if it’s not firsthand anymore. and he definitely thinks he deserves it, i’m sure.  literally no one is going to blame tony harder than tony blames himself, and that’s a fucking fact. if you don’t think tony doesn’t blame himself entirely for what happened to steve you don’t really know tony stark at all.  he might not remember exactly what he did and why he did it, but he knows how to read himself and he’s really good at extrapolating data.

so why is tony forgetting all of civil war significant, right, it’s just a year, maybe he didn’t make any more backups after civil war got rolling.  see...you’d think that sounds reasonable, right, but...it negates a huge part of tony’s tonyness, which is that he is meticulous about his data.  super meticulous.  his suits record everything. he has terrabytes and terrabytes of stuff from all kinds of things, and if you don’t think he wouldn’t want to keep every bit of everything that’s in his head, you’d be wrong.  if you don’t think his backups weren’t especially meticulous you’d be wrong.  if you don’t think he didn’t know exactly what drive he told maria to get, out of what are probably multiple drives containing tony’s brain backups, you’d be wrong.  tony’s not careless and he’s not sloppy.  if he picked drive x it’s because drive x was made not long after he got extremis and he knew exactly what he was doing when he picked it. he knew exactly what that would mean for his memories of the war, and of steve’s death, and all the things that came after it.  it was on purpose.  not as a cop out.  tony takes it all, everything everyone gives him over civil war and the skrull invasion, and for a long, long time after the mindwipe tony is very small, he’s very broken, and he’s very submissive in a lot of ways that all signal tony thinking he deserves every bit of what’s happening to him, and only recently, years later, is he starting to come around from it.  

everything - everything - centers around steve’s death.  tony doesn’t predict the future, that’s not exactly the truth of what his brain does, but he can see possible paths and follow them to conclusion.  the idea that he already started putting this particular plan in motion when the buried steve in the ice isn’t farfetched and it’s not unbelievable.  he can see things coming down the pipeline a mile away, and this was probably one of those things.  and he had his contingency in place by the time he needed it.

but see...the funny thing about things like mindwipes, right.  is that it’s not a precise thing.  shit happens to you, your brain wrinkles a certain way.  tony can erase that year, but with it he lost a lot of little things.  how to tie a tie, for instance.  and conversely, once your brain is wrinkled, it’s wrinkled.  it’s there, in your grey matter.  so while secret empire overall is trash, it did raise a very interesting scenario, and that scenario is that tony’s ai - the ai he built from a scan of his brain - does remember the war.  there’s no reason for his ai to remember if it’s not actually still somewhere in tony’s head, right, which makes sense.  the wrinkles the events caused are still there, and tony is not dumb.  he doesn’t half ass anything, so i guarantee you he has an idea of how the human brain works and records thing.  he’d know he’d never fully get rid of those memories.  they’re still there, tony’s ai is proof.  he just...can’t access them.   something to think about.

anyway, here’s a ridiculous long explanation of the mindwipe and why it’s important, because tony not remembering civil war and steve’s death impacts everything from the moment he wakes up going forward.  it means there’s no closure because he can’t talk about it, he can’t say for sure when, where, who, why, or how, he can only guess.  and he avoids guessing.   thanks for coming, have a great day.

[simul16]

5E - You're Doing It Wrong - Hide

Normally, you can't hide from someone if you're in full view. A lightfoot halfling, though, can try to vanish behind a creature that is at least one size larger, and a wood elf can try to hide simply by being in heavy rain, mist, falling snow, foliage, or similar natural phenomena. It's as if nature itself cloaks a wood elf from prying eyes -- even eyes staring right at the elf! - Sage Advice Compendium, p.2

In Fifth Edition D&D, the rules for using Stealth to hide consist of three paragraphs in a sidebar in the section of the Player's Handbook that covers using Dexterity as an ability, so in a sense, it's a bit unreasonable for me to claim that DMs are doing Stealth wrong when the official rules support for how to actually do Stealth correctly is so sparse. Nevertheless, the actual rule does specifically state a distinction between hiding and being actually invisible ("An invisible creature can't be seen, so it can always try to hide. Signs of its passage might still be noticed, however, and it still has to stay quiet."), and as a result implies a distinction between being hidden and being invisible that, if stated explicitly, would make adjudicating Hiding situations correctly a lot easier...except for one thing.

The distinction is actually fairly easy to state, once you understand it:

When you are invisible, other creatures can't see you.

When you are hidden, other creatures don't know where you are.

Understanding the distinction between those two things makes a lot of what the rules do say make much more sense. For instance, the note above about invisible creatures being always able to hide; if you can't be seen, then you can attempt to move or otherwise mislead another creature into thinking you are standing in a place you actually aren't, or at the very least that it doesn't know that you're standing where you are. Whether you succeed or not depends on how you try to accomplish this, and whether you succeed at the appropriate check -- a Stealth check would certainly be appropriate if trying to move somewhere to make a creature think you're still in the space you 'disappeared' from, while not actually being in that space anymore, but misleading a creature, say by throwing a pebble to make a noise somewhere else, might actually require a Sleight of Hand check or even just a straight Dexterity check without a skill modifier.

But the most egregious use of Stealth is from those folks, often who have played a previous edition of D&D and gotten into the habit of using Stealth as a way of claiming a combat bonus -- this is true in 5E as well, particularly for the rogue class, as rogues not only can take advantage of the advantage granted by attacking an opponent who isn't able to see the rogue to gain Sneak Attack on that attack, but also by using the rogue's Cunning Action ability to hide as a bonus action either before or after attacking in order to set up the attack. And in this, the biggest aider and abettor of this kind of abusive rules exploitation is, sadly, the Sage, who seems to not really understand the distinction between being hidden and being invisible.

The Naturally Stealth ability of the lightfoot halfling does say that the character "can attempt to hide even when you are obscured only by a creature that is at least one size larger than you." However, nothing in the ability says that a halfling can do this while being observed, and the rules for hiding, scant as they are, do at least point out that "[y]ou can't hide from a creature that can see you". It's the next phrase, though, that really nails down the distinction we're trying to make here: "and if you make noise..., you give away your position." Being hidden is a matter of creatures not knowing where you are, and if you've given away your position (say by openly walking up to another member of your party and trying to hide behind them), any creature that saw you walk up to your fellow party member still pretty clearly knows where you are -- behind the other person.

Similarly, the Mark of the Wild ability of the wood elf does not provide an explicit exception to the general rule that you can't hide from creatures that can see you: "You can attempt to hide even when you are only lightly obscured by foliage, heavy rain, falling snow, mist, and other natural phenomena." Despite the Sage's flowery text, nothing in the ability actually allows the wood elf to simply vanish from the eyes of enemies simply because there's a heavy rain or snow falling.

So what good are these abilities if they can't be used the way the Sage implies? Well, there are two things to focus on in the rules, and then another thing to consider that's not explicitly within the rules, but probably should be.

The first thing to focus on that is within the rules is the use of the word 'obscured' in both abilities discussed above. Obscurement comes in two types, heavy and light, and heavy obscurement imposes the blinded condition on all creatures who don't have an ability that allows them to see otherwise (for example, mundane darkness is heavy obscurement, and thus blinds creatures that don't have darkvision; creatures that do have darkvision, though, can see even in the area). If a creature is blinded by being in a heavily obscured area, it can't see a creature trying to hide, which takes care of the problem that you can't hide from a creature that can see you. Light obscurement, though, generally only provides disadvantage to Perception checks, it doesn't prevent them entirely, so even though it may be more difficult to see in light obscurement, it's not impossible. Nevertheless, presuming that both abilities are referring to 'obscurement' caused by the things they describe in their text would allow characters with those abilities to attempt Stealth checks in circumstances where other characters could not; the effect of a successful check, though, is not to make the character invisible, but only to make the observer think that the character is still in the last space they saw them in -- recall, being hidden means that other creatures don't know where you are, but they won't just forget the last place they did see you, especially in a combat situation ("In combat, most creatures stay alert for signs of danger all around, so if you come out of hiding and approach a creature, it usually sees you."). If you actually are in the place that a creature thinks you're in, then you're not actually hidden, even if you made your Stealth check -- as noted above, you need to move to another position so you are not actually in the space the observers think you're in, or create some distraction or other misdirection to make those observers believe you're no longer in the place they last saw you. Being successfully hidden is what allows that misdirection to be successful, as being hidden means that while an observer may believe it knows where you are (based on where it last saw you), it actually doesn't. Admittedly, this may be a bit more difficult for a halfling hiding behind a single ally than for an elf hiding in an area of foliage consisting of multiple 5-foot squares, but neither is impossible.

The other thing to keep in mind is that the rules also explicitly say that "when you make an attack, you give away your location when the attack hits or misses." For people that want to do the 'attack, hide, repeat' mambo, this just means to them that they need to make a Stealth check each round, but keep in mind that once you've given away your position, not only are you no longer hiding, but creatures that you were hidden from, who didn't know where you were, now do know where you are. Trying to hide in exactly the same position you were just in creates the same problem as trying to hide in the space that creatures can actually see you're in before you try to hide; if your enemies think you're in the space you're actually in, because that's the space they last noticed you were in, you're not actually getting the benefit of being hidden. So what's the benefit of being hidden in combat if you're not invisible? That's easy, and spelled out right in the combat rules: "If the target isn't in the location you targeted, you automatically miss, but the DM typically just says that the attack missed, not whether you guessed the target's location correctly." If an enemy doesn't know where you are, and attacks a space it thinks you're in, but that you're actually not in, the attack automatically misses, and depending on the attack roll, the enemy might not even realize that he missed because you're not actually in that space.

There is one thing that isn't in the rules that probably should be, though, and it comes down to how enemies can detect you if you are hidden. Imagine you're a rogue and you sneak up to a wall behind which you can hear enemy monsters. There are archways to allow movement between the monster's room and where you are, but you're not standing in the archways -- you have full cover from the enemies and thus they can't see you. So you declare your intention to hide, which is perfectly reasonable: the creatures can't see you, and you want to be sure they don't know you're there. You make your Dexterity (Stealth) check against their passive Perception and succeed. Then, one creature leaves the group and walks through an arch into your area. You're hidden, so the creature doesn't know where you are, but you no longer have cover blocking the creature from being able to see you. Does the creature see you? (In previous editions of D&D, the creature would automatically notice you if it now had line of sight to you, which I always found irritating as a player.)

While there are many different situations that might affect a general rule (is the creature carrying a light source, or does it have darkvision? how much general detritus is there where you are that might provide additional cover or concealment from the enemy's location?), I'd argue that a general rule should be that, if you don't take an action that might reveal your position, enemies don't automatically get to spot you, though they could use an action to try to find you if they had reason to suspect you're there.

Going back to our imagined situation, when the enemy walks through the archway, as long as you're still not acting, you haven't done anything to give away your position, so the default hiding result -- the enemy doesn't know where you are -- continues. However, if the creature can see something that doesn't look 'normal' to it -- a gnome-shaped mass pressed up against the wall, for example -- it can attempt a Wisdom (Perception) check against your Dexterity (Stealth) check result to try to figure out that what it sees is you. If it fails, your ability to hide was good enough so that the creature presumes that it either isn't seeing what it thinks it sees, or that it misinteprets what it sees as something else (just a weird-shaped rock, for instance). However, if the creature then returns to the other room and you decide to move to the archway in the hopes of peeking around the corner and seeing just how many creatures are there, now you've done something that might give away your position; you need to attempt a new Dexterity (Stealth) check to confirm that your movement and action didn't give away your position, and if one of the creatures had actually come through the other archway stealthily without you noticing (it made a Stealth check against your passive Perception, so it's effectively hidden from you), then that creature would automatically notice you when taking your action, unless there was some other reason it wouldn't be able to perceive you while you are moving.

Generally speaking, as long as you as the DM keep in mind that 'hidden' does not equal 'invisible', and that a creature can be hidden independently of being invisible or vice versa, adjudicating situations where your players are trying to hide from monsters should be a lot easier, and provide for a lot fewer opportunities for rules abuse.

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 15.13: “Destiny’s Child”

THEN: The pizza man! Megstiel! Oh, lord, I love these two. Ruby 2.0. Lots of pizza for some reason. Jack is soulless. Chuck is destroying his worlds.

NOW: Bunker. The guys are doing research in the library when they hear a weird loud noise. They rush into a room I don’t recognize and find a cute little seafoam green Fiat. With Kansas plates. {Sidebar: I’m thrilled to see Kansas plates. I wish Baby would get replated before the end.} As Savage Garden sings about ch-ch-cherry cola feelings at the base of your spine, two feet (but only one sock) emerge from the Fiat, and those feet are connected to… Sam and Dean! Well, AU versions of them, anyway. As real Sam and Dean watch in horrified confusion, we get glimpses of AU Sam and Dean – an expensive watch, non-flannel clothes, AU Sam’s hair half up. An open rift glows behind them. “Well,” says AU Sam, “we did it.” The AU brothers fistbump (which is smart; you don’t want to shake hands with coronavirus and all) and we see AU Sam is wearing an Apple watch. Which I think the OG Winchesters should wear, considering how often they seem to miss important texts.

All four make eye contact.

Dean? Sam? Sam? Dean? What the hell? What the heck?

The rift flares brighter, AU Dean says “Aw, nuts,” and the AU brothers and their cute little car are sucked back out of our world.

Title card!

Time jump. OG Sam and Dean are telling Cas about their doppelgangers. Dean is particularly disturbed by their car (as am I, because there’s no way those two big guys would be running around in a tiny little Fiat, no matter how fucking cute it is). And all three are just completely confused. Which is odd, considering that they know 1) there are AU versions of themselves in AU worlds, and B) people can move between those worlds. I don’t know why they can’t wrap their heads around AU Winchesters showing up in the bunker.

“How did they get here?” Dean asks. The answer comes from Billie. “They were running. Because God was destroying their reality. He’s almost done wrapping up those other worlds.” And when he finishes his other worlds, he’s coming after the Winchesters. It’s time move on to the next step in Billie’s plan for Jack. Our boy enters on cue, eating a sandwich and announcing he’s ready. Billie explains that the first step (eating angel hearts, ew) was to prepare his body, and the next step is “more spiritual in nature.” He has to find something called the Occultum.

The Occultum? That’s Latin for “hidden.” Where do we find it? I don’t KNOW. It’s HIDDEN.

Hee!

Smart Sam, slightly embarrassed chastised Sam. Love ‘em both.

They don’t really even know what it is, let alone where it is. Or maybe Billie knows what it is, and just isn’t talking. She stresses that since everything will go tits up if God finds out what they’re doing, they need to be ready, and vigilant. “And not stupid.”

Oh, Billie. It’s too late for that.

Research time. Sam’s frustrated, Dean’s distracted. Because he remembered Amara, and he thinks maybe Jack is supposed to kill Amara too. Sam scoffs at that, but Dean reminds us him that the world will be out of balance if Chuck is gone but Amara remains. Sam asks “But then who takes over? Jack?” Jack wanders in, blowing a bubblegum bubble, and proudly announces that he just learned how to do it. “Probably not,” Dean says. Heh. The guys question Jack about how, exactly, he’s going to strike God down, and either he doesn’t know or, again, he’s not talking.

{Sidebar: Neither of them thought anyone needed to take over as God if Chuck was gone. They were, in fact, looking forward to a Godless world. Why, now, does Sam suddenly think someone needs to take over if both Chuck and Amara are gone? Yeah, I know the answer. Bad writing. Thanks, Buckleming!}

They must have brought the Amara situation up for a reason. It’s the kind of monkey wrench that the writers usually ignore if they don’t have a way to address it. What’s going to happen? Here are the possibilities I came up with:

Both Chuck and Amara are killed.

Jack replaces Chuck as God, which means Amara can go on playing keno.

Either Sam or Dean replaces Chuck as God, and Jack or Cas becomes the Darkness. (Neither Sam nor Dean can receive the Mark of Cain again, right? Isn’t that canon? Or is it fanon? And did Sam’s very brief experience with the Mark actually count?)

Jack replaces Chuck as God, and Cas becomes the Darkness. Or vice versa.

Billie pulls a deus ex machina and the whole Chuck/Amara balance thing becomes moot.

The whole Amara situation will never be mentioned again.

Cas wanders in, gathering information from Sergei. Sergei? Again? Will we never be shed of him? Dean agrees with me. “Him? Are we that desperate?” Apparently so. Sergei says the Occultum was housed in a temple until it wasn’t and Dean starts throwing out movie plots to hypothesize what might have happened to it. I’m sure that was amusing to some of you. Anyway, it ended up in the hands of a faith healer with glowy hands. Oh, who could that be? Well, if you didn’t cover the guest star credits, you didn’t see Danneel Ackles. And even if you did, I’m sure you’ve guessed that the faith healer is Sister Jo, who everyone calls Jo rather than using her angel name. Even Cas. I think we should start calling him Jimmy.

Sister Jo’s. She’s wearing some weird combo of satin slipdress/turtleneck/pink blazer. Any one of these items is fine. Together they’re awful. Sam and Dean show up, asking where the Occultum is, and threatening her with angel blades when she refuses to spill the beans. Which doesn’t seem very threatening to me. As an angel, she’s still so much more powerful than they are. (Whatever.)

She says “I gave it to an old friend of yours – Ruby.” And Sam’s first response is “why would you give it to her” instead of “wait, we killed her years before you fell to earth and became a faith healer.” {waves to Buckleming} We get some ridiculous backstory (and again I don’t understand why an angel cares so much about couture brands) about how she was working with Ruby and oh, look, it’s Ruby 2.0! {Sidebar: I covered the credits, as I said, so I didn’t notice that Genevieve Padalecki was not in them. I love the way Show tries to set up a surprise and then their PR department completely spoils it. Because yes, of course I knew Genevieve was coming back. Even the Unsullied couldn’t avoid that spoiler, especially because some people on Tumblr do not use spoiler tags!!! However, I was under the impression she’d be in the final episode, so it was a huge relief to see her in this one. Let’s waste all the nonsense on a Buckleming episode!}

Anyway. According to Jo, Ruby claimed she had a buyer for the Occultum. Jo gave it to her, and then the boys killed her so the deal did not go down. {Sidebar: Once again, Show, flashbacks to older, better episodes are not doing you any favors.} The Occultum is still where Ruby stashed it – in Hell. Dean rolls his eyes, because that’s all Hell is now. It doesn’t inspire terror, just an eyeroll. Hell is basically Walmart. And Dean’s eyeroll is tantamount to me saying “Shit, the only place I can get toilet paper is Walmart? Ugh.” And I hate that, friends. I really, really hate the way Hell has become no more than an unpleasant inconvenience.

Here. Have a palate cleanser.

Bunker. Jack is eating… everything. He and Cas talk about how he’s really into food now, but he doesn’t feel things like he did before he lost his soul. He makes another guilt-free reference about “what happened to Mary,” like he did right before they put him in the box, and wonders if Dean will ever forgive him. {Sidebar: He doesn’t care if Sam forgives him, or he knows Sam has/will? Discuss.} Cas says “You know, Dean, he feels things more acutely than any human I’ve ever known.” Because yes, Dean has to be the absolute bestest at everything, doesn’t he? {Sidebar: How long has it been since someone told Dean he was pretty? What if he forgets???} Anyway, Cas thinks maybe someday Dean will explode and release his Most Acutest Ever feelings and then Jack will be forgiven. (Foreshadowing!)

The guys enter the bunker, discussing Rowena’s spell to get into Hell, and Dean calls Sam “Samwitch.” \o/ Because, as we know, someone over there reads my LJ and/or Tumblr. Um. Does this mean it’s the Buckleming? If so, I’m going to need some time. Cas shows up and looks constipated and says “come with me” and it’s an odd transition because it seemed like they interrupted his talk with Jack, but actually it must be some time later.

Cas takes them back to the mystery room, which I guess was identified as the armory but it looks more like another library to me, and shows them a ghostly AU Sam and Dean. They’re trapped between worlds, apparently. Dean doesn’t care. When Cas assures him they don’t seem to be in pain, he’s ready to move on. I wonder how acutely he feels that.

Sam tells Cas that Ruby stashed the Occultum in Hell and Cas says “Ruby. The demon you were sexually intimate with.” Sam’s all, really, Cas, you’re going there? and it’s another episode of ha ha, funny Cas doesn’t understand human interactions, and then Dean goes all squinty eyed and says ”sexually intimate?” as if this is NEWS TO HIM and WHAT THE FUCKING WHAT, SHOW. This is not news to Dean. Sam told him ALL ABOUT IT in “I Know What You Did Last Summer.” Dean even told him it was “too much information.” Sam told him EVERYTHING. And now we’re supposed to think he didn’t know Sam was banging a demon?

FUCKLEMING!!!!

Anyway. Cas thinks they should get some confirmation from Ruby before going to Hell, but she is inconveniently dead. And also, why would she tell them the truth, considering they’re the reason she’s inconveniently dead. The guys don’t want to wait. They tell Cas to stay in the car right outside the door to Walmart and keep the engine running keep the spell to open Hell going.

Hell. Ugh So cheesy; so much hate. The guys come across a minion who says Rowena is hosting a reception, and he’ll take them to her. But Ruth wasn’t in the credits (for those of you who saw the credits) so obviously this is a trap. Fighty fighty, blah blah blah. Turns out they were set up by Jo. We do get a bit of a post-exertion huff from Sam, so it’s not a total waste.

While this is happening, Cas decides to go to the Empty to question Ruby, because he’s pretty sure Jo isn’t telling the truth. He needs Jack to kill him to the point that he’s only mostly dead. And we’re reminded about his deal with the Empty, so I guess that’s still a thing. Cas gives Jack a flask to hold his life force, and tells him that if this goes badly, Cas will be lost forever. And if Jack doesn’t keep the spell burning, the Winchesters will be stuck in Hell and will be lost forever. Wow, a lot of things could go wrong here. Jack puts a hand on Cas’s forehead and we see Cas’s grace drain into the flask.

Sister Jo’s place. She’s packing up and fleeing.

The Empty. Cas calls for Ruby. “Hello, Clarence,” says a familiar voice. It’s Meg! \o/ Oh, no. It’s just the Empty Guy in Meg form. Dammit. Meg’s got to be in here somewhere, and I’d love to see some Megstiel action one more time before I die. But it is very nice to see Rachel Miner. Empty!Meg calls Ruby out from the darkness. Ruby fondly remembers Sam as “the big lug” and tells Cas a completely different story about her relationship with Jo. {Sidebar: I hate to say this, but Gen doesn’t look so good in this episode, and I also remember her as a better actor.} Ruby tells Cas the Occultum is “a place, a thing, whatever you want to call it.” She’ll tell him where it is if he gets her out of the Empty. He promises to try, and she whispers in his ear.

Back at the bunker, the guys have returned and are horrified to find that Cas is hopefully in the Empty, hopefully finding Ruby, hopefully finding the location of the Occultum, and Sam says “that’s way too many hopefullys!” Hee. They demand that Jack bring him back. In the Empty, Empty!Meg tortures Cas and says Billie promised she could go back to sleep as soon as this is all over, while in the bunker, Jack feeds him his life force.

Resurrected from the nearly-dead, Cas gets called an idiot, because neither of these guys have ever risked their lives to get information (ha ha, sure Dean). He tells the guys he knows where the Occultum is, and they’re ready to go. However, Jack points out that if Chuck notices they’re gone and figures out what they’re doing, it’s game over. True. But that was also true when they went to Hell, and it didn’t seem to be a problem. Anyway, Dean has an idea. He thinks they need a visible presence in the bunker, because this is where Chuck will look.

We don’t know that. We don’t NOT know that.

Hee! Down in the armory, the AU Winchesters are still stuck between worlds. Dean thinks they can open the rift and yank the guys back into this world. Conveniently, since they’re stuck adjacent to this world, Cas’s grace should be plenty. The AU brothers are playing rock-paper-scissors and maybe I’m missing something, but it sure looks like Dean throws scissors and Sam throws rock, which means Sam wins, but Dean acts like he won. Maybe it’s different in AU World. Maybe AU World rocks are very soft.

Sam does the spell, because the one good thing I still get to have is that Sam is in charge of the spellwork. The next thing we see is the OG brothers and the AU brothers at the map table, drinking beer. I’m pretty sure Jared is going to take AU Sam’s purple suit home after they shoot the last episode. The AU brothers are awfully prissy and don’t drink much beer – “Dad won’t keep it in the house. He only likes his private label Scotch. He spoils us.” Damn. They really are prissy. And John is alive, and went through the rift with them, but they don’t know where he is now. Nor do they seem concerned at all, even though they toast him as the “best guy ever.” The AU Winchesters hunt worldwide, and get paid, and have their own plane. The originals explain to the AUs why they need them to act as decoys. OG Sam tells AU Sam that he’ll have to “lose the manbun” and AU Sam recoils in horror and this is NOT WORKING FOR ME. (Also, it’s not technically a manbun, it’s just half up.) I guess some of you loved them, and I’m sure J2 had fun playing them, but I’m just. Bleh. Rich hunters wouldn’t be fussy little twits. Maybe if they were MoL; I can see that. But hunters with money would, IMHO, be like those Duck Dynasty idiots. They’d still be wearing flannel, they’d just drive huge expensive SUVs.

Sam, who are these douches and why are they in our house?

{Sidebar: Why are all the AU Winchesters the same age as our Winchesters? If the other worlds were copies of ours, shouldn’t the AU brothers be younger? Shouldn’t we have Dylan Everett or Colin Ford here?}

Carrying on. The Impala pulls up to a church, and even Jack thinks this is too easy. But then it’s not, because we hear the distinctive growl of hellhounds. Dean gets the door unlocked just in time, and they all rush inside. Sam holds the doors closed as the other three casually wander around the church trying to find the Occultum. Sam is clearly having trouble, but no one comes to his aid. The sky conveniently clears, revealing a moonlit cross on the floor that marks the spot. Dean pulls up a floorboard and reveals a small blue velvet bag {Sidebar: Anyone else have a very similar Crown Royal bag full of cassette tapes in their car back in the 70s/80s? Or was that just me and my lowlife friends?} Inside the bag is an orb inscribed in Enochian: In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you. Sam continues struggling with the door, and the others are all, you held the doors open against Lucifer himself, I’m sure you can handle a couple of silly hellhounds, which is true but still.

Bunker. AU Sam and Dean are cosplaying as our Sam and Dean, but not well. “They said lose the manbun, Samuel,” says AU Dean. “Look, hillbilly clothes are bad enough. I had to draw the line somewhere, and my hair is sacred.” Sam drinks beer with his pinkie extended, and hates it, and I’m sorry. I can’t stand this.

Scenes from the Writers’ Room

You know, last year, Jared got to play a couple of fun AU versions of Sam. I missed out on that.

Okay, but we’ve got you singing this year. And dancing.

Yeah, I know, but I really want to play a different version of Dean, too. I’m gonna be looking for jobs. I need to showcase all my talents.

All right, we can do that.

Also, make sure someone tells Dean he’s pretty.

Anyway. AU Dean is growing to enjoy beer, and he finds porn on Dean’s laptop (leave it to the Buckleming to bring back Busty Asian Beauties, ugh), and he thinks the OG life – nothing but beer, monsters, and porn – might not be so bad after all. AU Sam decides he agrees.

Back at the church, Sam is still the only thing between the rest of TFW 2.0 and grim death. As Cas and Dean squabble over what to do next, Jack figures out the obvious and swallows the Occultum. He collapses and glows and is transported to… Eden! Which has astroturf! And a weird girl who says Eden will change him “if you’re the one meant to find it.” She disappears and a snake appears in the tree. (Hello, Crawly!) “Who are you really?” it hisses. “Who are you meant to be?” Jack has some flashbacks to his best times and worst times and falls to the ground, crying. Then he appears back in the church as a glowing orb which immediately heads straight toward Sam, if you didn’t notice. But I did. Then it floats back to Cas and Dean. Sam collapses and the door opens, but the ball of light disperses the hellhounds and leaves Jack on the floor.

Aftermath! Bunker. Dean is dismissing the AU Winchesters. AU Dean suggests they all live there together, and OG Dean turns them down. He thinks they need to go to Brazil, and refuses their request to keep the flannel shirts. AU Dean tells him they saw the car – and drove it. I wonder when they did that, since the OG Winchesters drove it to the church. Huh. But that’s not what bugs me most about this. What bugs me most is that there’s NO WAY IN HELL (not even new, wimpy Walmart Hell) that Sam and Dean would have let those guys go. Would have turned them loose without any support. No fucking way.

Dean joins Sam, who is standing sadly in the hallway outside Jack’s door. Cas comes out of his room and says Jack is okay, but something is different. They go inside and oh, it’s not Jack’s room, it’s the kitchen. Jack is sitting at the table, crying. He apologizes for not understanding that killing Mary was his fault and begs for forgiveness. Looks like someone has been resouled. And – scene!

So. I didn’t really care for this one. In fact, it kind of made me lose hope for the rest of the season. And maybe the will to live. But I’m not going to dwell on that. I’m going to dwell on this: We don’t need any more side characters, even if they’re Sam and Dean.

Scenes From the Writers’ Room

Okay, who else can we bring back?

What about Ruby? I know a lot of fans would like to see some closure for her story.

I thought she had closure? When they killed her?

{laughter}

Good one. Yeah, let’s bring her back and wrap her story up. And we’ll give Cas and Jack some time too.

But we’ve gotta use the guys at some point. People are gonna complain.

I’ve got an idea – what if we have Jared and Jensen play two different people, rather than Sam and Dean?

You, my friend, are a fucking genius!

But if we had to get two AU Winchesters, couldn’t it have been the ones from Sam’s nightmares? Wouldn’t Boy!King Sam or MoC Dean have been awesome? And what if, after the AU Winchesters tumbled into the bunker, AU Sam quietly pulled OG Sam aside.

I need to talk to you. Alone. What is it? Do you have a secure room? Someplace we can ward? Why? Um… I’m not sure how to explain… Do you have Cain and Abel in your world? {Sam visibly blanches} We’ve got a dungeon. Come help me set it up. Now.

Wouldn’t that have been better than this crap? Or what about Samifer? Wouldn’t Sam and Dean’s reactions to Samifer have been magnificent? (Yeah, I know. We didn’t need a whole Plot. We just needed a small Device.)

And it turns out they’re not airing any more new episodes until… who knows when. Which means we’re stuck with this one. If I die and the last new episode of Supernatural I ever get to see is a fucking Buckleming episode, I’m going to be so pissed. I will come back and I will be haunting some asses. Enough whining. What did you think? And please help me stay unspoiled; thanks!

[klaineanummel]

(b)romance

Everyone does dumb shit in high school. Some people skip classes too many times, or cheat on their tests. Kurt Hummel gets drunk and eats thirty-five diet pudding cups. 

guess who isn’t deaddddddddd. big thanks to mailroomorder who encouraged me to just write a dumb one-shot to get back into my creative writing gear. this is based off a tumblr post i saw the other day that inspired me in the way only dumb shit can (link to the post on ao3 -- link to ao3 in the sidebar). hope you enjoy!!

i.

It all starts at a dumb party Kurt’s junior year of high school.

Finn makes him come, claiming he wants his friends to get to know his new step-brother better. Kurt tries to argue that he’s actually known all these people since kindergarten, just as Finn has, and they just have different interests, but Finn is insistent. Kurt should have known that his dad marrying the most popular guy in school’s mom would come back to bite him in the ass.

Finn spends the entire ride to the party telling Kurt in great detail about everybody on the baseball team, going into the specifics of why he thinks Kurt will get along with each specific person.

“—and Ryder puts a lot of care into his hair, no idea why. And Mike is super into dancing and musicals and shit, so you’ll have a lot to talk about. And Puck may not look it, but he’s actually super invested in skin care for some reason. Oh, and Blaine is really into fashion, and musicals, too. He and Mike are actually always talking about—”

On, and on for the entire twenty minute ride to David Karofsky’s house.

By the time they arrive, Kurt is more than thankful that Finn agreed to be the designated driver for once, because Kurt really doesn’t think that he’ll be able to survive the evening sober if Finn is going to keep that up all night.

The first thing he does when he arrives is force Finn to show him where all the drinks are, and to show him how to make the mixed drink with the highest alcohol content but least amount of alcohol taste.

He knows he’ll probably regret it, but as soon as Finn finishes the drink, he downs the whole thing in as few gulps as possible, then holds out his cup so that Finn will make him another. Because Finn is a terrible influence, instead of suggesting he maybe stick to just one for now, he grins and says, “Fuck yeah, Kurt!” and pours even more crap into his cup.

The second drink doesn’t last long either, as Kurt feels the need to take a long pull from it every single time Finn drags him to someone new and says, “Hey, this is my new step-brother, Kurt,” to somebody that Kurt has literally known his entire life. He then has to take yet another drink when whoever it is inevitably says, “Yo, hey, great to meet you!” as though it actually is the first time they’re meeting.

To be fair, Finn and Kurt seem to have arrived a bit late, and so most of these people are already three sheets to the wind, but still.

The only person who doesn’t respond that way is Blaine Anderson, who stares at Finn for a few moments after he introduces Kurt, then sends a confused smile Kurt’s way and says, “Finn, you know that I know Kurt, right? We have calculus together and were in the same class every year in primary school.”

“Well, yeah,” Finn replies. “But now he’s Kurt my step-brother. So, you know. It’s different.”

Kurt’s eyes widen and he looks down at his nearly empty cup before lifting it to his lips and draining it. When he looks up, he sees Blaine giving him an amused smile and then saying, “Top you off?”

“Please,” Kurt says, allowing Blaine to finally drag him away from Finn.

He’s feeling pretty tipsy by the time Blaine hands him his new drink. It’s different than what Finn made him, but still good, and Kurt drinks half of it in one go.

“Whoa, there,” Blaine says, chuckling as he pours himself a drink. “Rough night?”

“Oh, you know,” Kurt says, glancing around the room. “Just enjoying being paraded around like a new toy and realizing just how inconsequential I’ve been to the people I’ve gone to school with for literally ever.”

Blaine snorts. “They’re just drunk, and probably indulging Finn a little bit. Guy’s really happy you two are brothers now.”

“Clearly,” Kurt replies, eyes falling on Finn who is excitedly pointing in his direction as he talks to a couple of cheerleaders. “Thanks for acknowledging we’ve met before.”

He turns back in time to see Blaine raise his cup and take a long drink from it. Kurt raises his own as well, then downs the rest of his own drink. He winces a little as he does it, but then holds his cup out to Blaine for one more. Blaine presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows, but still pours him another one.

“Pace yourself, yeah?”

“Will do, Mom.”

Blaine laughs, shaking his head a little. “You’re alright Hummel, you know that?”

Kurt shrugs and gives him a, ‘Duh’, face, which just makes Blaine laugh some more.

“Come on,” Blaine says, grabbing Kurt by the wrist. “I’ve just decided I want you as my beer pong partner for the night.”

Kurt’s never played beer pong before, or really any party game, but he goes along happily. Anything to get him away from Finn’s endless crusade to introduce him to every single popular kid at their school.

**

An hour later finds Kurt sitting on a ratty old couch, wasted, with an equally wasted Blaine Anderson laughing up against him.

“We’re so bad at beer pong,” Blaine says, head falling onto Kurt’s shoulder as he laughs. “So, so bad.”

Kurt laughs along with him. “So bad,” he closes his eyes as he laughs some more, then widens them as he lets out a loud burp. He and Blaine stare at each other for a second and then burst out laughing again.

“So much for pacing myself,” Kurt says, covering his mouth with his hand. It just makes Blaine laugh some more.

They laugh and laugh until Blaine sits up a little bit and says, “I’m so hungry.”

Kurt frowns, suddenly realizing that he’s hungry as well. “Well, let’s go eat something, come on.”

Blaine stares at him with wide eyes, then nods and says. “Yes. Yes, amazing idea.” He stands, wobbling a little once he’s on his feet, then drags Kurt up with him. Kurt wobbles a little as well, grabbing onto Blaine’s shoulders to steady himself. Once they’re both good, Blaine grabs his hand and says, “Come on, I know where Dave’s parents hide the good shit.”

The good shit, it turns out, is an insane hoard of diet pudding cups. Apparently Dave’s parents have been dieting together for a while, and diet pudding cups are the only sweet they’ve allowed themselves, because there are really a ridiculous amount of them in the back of the pantry.

“Oh, my god,” Kurt says as he stares at them. “I love diet pudding cups.”

“Me, too,” Blaine says, grabbing a butterscotch one and digging in. Kurt just keeps staring at all of them, taking in all the flavors, completely overwhelmed.

“Blaine, I can’t choose,” he whines after a while. Blaine is already scooping out the last of his own pudding cup and stares up at him with giant eyes.

“Well, here,” Blaine says, handing him one of the spoons they grabbed from the kitchen. “Just like, eat all of them.”

And Kurt, of course, being the idiot drunk teenager that he is, grabs the spoon and says, “You have the most amazing ideas,” before picking up a random pudding cup.

In Kurt’s defense, everybody does stupid shit in high school.

ii.

Kurt still barely feels human by Monday morning. Finn laughs at him the entire ride to school, and Kurt silently bares it until they reach the McKinley High parking lot. There, he storms out of the car and walks away, throwing Finn the middle finger as he goes because, dammit, this is his fault.

He doesn’t turn back to see Finn, but he can hear him laughing as he hurries to follow Kurt into the school.

He’s just settled all his things in his locker and grabbed what he needs for his first two periods when Dave Karofsky and Blaine Anderson walk up to him. Blaine looks just as hellish as Kurt feels, which he has to admit is a relief. Dave looks about as amused as Finn, which basically throws all the relief Kurt’s felt at seeing Blaine out the window.

“Hey there, Diet Pudding Cup Boy,” is how Dave greets him, and the sheer words cause nausea to swirl in Kurt’s stomach.

“Please don’t,” Kurt whispers, shutting his locker shut.

“No, dude, I’m super impressed,” Dave says, clapping him on the back and causing Kurt to wince. “I think I counted thirty-seven empty cups when I was cleaning up the next day. Never knew you had it in you.”

“In my defense,” Kurt says, closing his eyes for a moment, “Blaine ate two.”

Blaine groans, and yeah, Kurt realizes that that’s not really a great defense.

“So, thirty-five diet pudding cups.” Dave laughs, then claps him on the back again and says, “My fucking man,” before heading down the hall, leaving Kurt alone with Blaine.

Kurt turns to the other boy and glares. “This is your fault.”

Blaine has one eye closed. “Yep.”

“I threw up four times on Saturday.”

“Oh god, shut up,” Blaine says, leaning his head against Kurt’s shoulder.

“I ate thirty-five diet pudding cups, Blaine.”

Blaine raises his head and asks, “Does it make you feel better to know that the entire baseball team thinks you’re a legend now?”

Kurt sighs heavily, shaking his head. “At least they’ll all actually remember me now.”

Blaine smiles at him, chuckling a little. “Oh yeah. Nobody is forgetting Diet Pudding Cup Boy anytime soon.”

Kurt groans and Blaine laughs at him the entire rest of the way to Calculus.

iii.

“Yo, Pudding Cup Boy,” is how Blaine greets him as he settles into the spot next to Kurt in the library. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

Kurt turns away from his laptop to give Blaine an unimpressed stare. “You know, I think I liked it better when I was Diet Pudding Cup Boy. At least it gave the semblance of health.”

“Too long,” Blaine says, waving his comment away. “Seriously, though. All the schools you applied to are in New York?”

Kurt frowns. “Yeah? I thought I told you that.”

“Uh, no,” Blaine says, shaking his head. “What the hell! We could have coordinated. Made sure we applied to places in the same area so we could be roommates.”

Kurt’s frown instantly turns to a grin. “Wait. So, you—”

“Yes, you freaking dork.”

“Oh, my god!” Kurt throws his arms around his friend, pulling him in for a tight hug. Blaine laughs as he hugs Kurt back, briefly tucking his head into Kurt’s shoulder as he does. “Blaine, this is amazing!”

“I know,” Blaine grins as they separate. “Pudding Cup Boy and Shortstop Supreme take on the Big Apple.”

“You know, I’m too excited about the fact that we’ll be in New York together to even care that you just said that.” Kurt says, which makes Blaine laugh some more. Kurt keeps grinning at him for a moment, then says, “Actually, no—”

“Kurt, come on, this is going to be great! I was so nervous about moving to New York, you know, not knowing anybody. Now turns out one of my best friends is going to be there with me!”

Even though it’s been over a year since the fateful baseball party that brought them together, Kurt sometimes still can’t believe that Blaine Anderson considers him one of his best friends. It makes his insides feel all warm inside every time he hears Blaine say it.

“I can’t believe we didn’t talk about this. I could have sworn I told you I was applying to NYADA and NYU.”

“You didn’t, you rascal,” Blaine says, knocking his shoulder lightly. “It’s fine, though. I’ll forgive you if you promise you won’t abandon me for all your cool theater friends when we get there.”

Kurt scoffs at that. “Please, Blaine. As if Pudding Cup Boy could ever abandon his trusty sidekick… what did you call yourself?”

“Shortstop Supreme. And, no offense, but you’re the sidekick.”

Kurt stares at him, bewildered. “Um. No.”

Blaine laughs. “Kurt, you’re Pudding Cup Boy. Come on, man. You’re the sidekick.”

Kurt opens his mouth to argue, but then another thought occurs to him. “Oh, jeez. I just realized Pudding Cup Boy is going to follow me to New York, isn’t it?”

Blaine throws his arm around him and pulls him close, grinning and saying, “You know it,” before the librarian finally comes over to tell them to shut up.

iv.

Blaine greets him by shouting, “Hey, Pudding Motherfucker,” from about twenty feet away. Despite himself, Kurt can’t help but laugh as Blaine continues walking towards him, holding two cups of coffee in his hands.

Kurt stands up from the bench he’s on just moments before Blaine arrives to wrap him in a tight hug. Kurt hugs him back just as tight, then pulls away to grab his coffee from Blaine before anything unfortunate happens to it.

“I don’t think that’s an upgrade from Pudding Boy,” is how he replies after taking a careful sip of his drink.

“Well, it’s what you’ll continue to be until you make more time in your life for your best friend.” They sit down on the bench, Blaine instantly shuffling closer to Kurt. “I mean, come on, Kurt. It’s been almost a month since I last saw you.”

“We literally text every day,” Kurt says, chuckling. “Also, if I recall correctly, we were going to hang out two weeks ago, but somebody cancelled at the last minute because the cute guy in his Creative Writing class asked him to get coffee.”

Blaine scowls and turns away. “Whatever. At least I cancelled to get laid. You always cancel for lame reasons, like work or homework.”

Kurt snorts at that. “Blaine, you told me after that he was the most boring person alive, and that when he asked you for your number after coffee you told him you didn’t believe in cell phones.”

Blaine’s cheeks color, and Kurt bursts out laughing. Blaine mutters, “Shut up. See if I ever buy you coffee again.”

“Oh, whatever,” Kurt says, tapping him on the shoulder. “You know you will, because you love me.”

“Nope,” Blaine says, throwing his chin up in the air. “You’re a dick, and I hate you.”

“You loooooove me,” Kurt leans his head on Blaine’s shoulder and stares up at him, fluttering his eyelashes. “Admit it, Shortstop. You love me. Come on, say it.”

“Pudding Motherfucker is right,” Blaine grumbles, which just makes Kurt cackle.

“Come on,” he says, pulling them off the bench. “Let’s take a walk while I remind you of all the reasons you love me.”

“There are none,” Blaine says, and it just makes Kurt laugh some more.

v.

Despite attending different universities, by the time their junior year rolls around Kurt and Blaine have somehow managed to find a decently sized group of mutual friends. They’re a mix of Blaine’s Columbia classmates, Kurt’s classmates from NYU, and a few NYADA strays they picked up after a night at a karaoke bar.

It’s surprising to Kurt how many of his close friendships have been forged over drunken nights out.

It’s hard for all of them to get together on the regular, due to conflicting schedules and the fact that they’re all widely spread throughout the city, but when they do it’s always a blast.

“Hey, Puddin’,” Blaine says, greeting Kurt by hugging him from behind. Kurt leans his body into it for a moment, enjoying the closeness his friendship with Blaine always affords.

“We dropped the boy, huh Shortstop?”

“Too much of a mouthful,” Blaine says, shrugging and placing a large glass Tupperware on the counter of Kurt’s kitchen.  “Can I help you out with anything?”

Kurt points in the direction of a cabinet and says, “Can you grab the veggie plate thing for me and start throwing these on there,” he nods his head down to the large selections of vegetables on the cutting board in front of him. “And then the hummus and ranch from the fridge? I’m almost finished cutting these up.”

“You got it, boss,” Blaine says, moving around Kurt’s kitchen with the ease of somebody who spends way too much time in someone else’s house. “Did Rachel tell you that she’s bringing some guy with her today?”

“Oh, god. Another one?”

Blaine laughs, pulling down the serving plate. “Second this semester. How long do you think this one will last?”

“No idea, but I can tell you this – if by the next one of these she’s got another one in tow, I’m not making the effort to get to know him anymore. I can’t keep investing all this small talk in random straight guys I’m never going to see again.”

“What a struggle,” Blaine simpers, tapping Kurt on the back with the plate. “Our life is so hard.”

“It is,” Kurt replies, sticking his tongue out at his friend. “Now, come on. Get to vegetable serving. You said you wanted to help.”

Blaine chuckles. “Aye, aye Captain Pudding.”

“You know, Blaine,” Kurt says as Blaine starts to place the vegetables on the plate. “A lot of people would probably be offended that you still call them a dumb nickname born of a night of drunken idiocy when they were sixteen.”

“Yeah, but those people aren’t you,” Blaine says, grinning up at him. “I mean, name someone else as legendary as Thirty-Five Pudding Cups Hummel.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “They were diet pudding cups, thank you very much.”

“See?” Blaine bumps their hips together. “Legend.”

Kurt chuckles and finishes cutting up his carrots, Blaine practically pressed to his side as they work.

vi.

“You have to sing it with me,” Blaine is holding his arm tightly, dragging Kurt down so that they’re eye to eye. His breath smells like vodka and raspberries, and his eyes are wide and wild. “Come on, Kurt. Come on, come on, come on.”

“Blaine, I told you, I have a firm no songs before the 80’s rule.”

“It’s a classic. Please, Puddin’, for me?”

Kurt stares at him, the three shots he’d done early making his thought process a little slower. “Oh, my god,” he says, jaw dropping. “That’s why you want to sing it with me.”

“What?” Blaine pulls away a little, face filling with completely put-upon confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Build Me Up Buttercup? With Pudding Cup Boy? Uh-uh. No way, mister.”

“Kurt,” Blaine drags out the ‘u’ in his name, clinging to Kurt once again. “Please, you have to!”

“Oh, my god,” Elliott says, suddenly appearing beside them. “Can you just give your man what he wants? Jesus Christ, Kurt.”

“I don’t want to,” Kurt replies. “He just wants to sing it because—”

“Who fucking cares. It’s like a three minute song, just do it and get it over with.”

Blaine is staring up at him with those dumb puppy dog eyes of his, eyelashes fluttering wildly, lips pouted. Kurt groans.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” Blaine jumps up, presses a quick kiss to Kurt’s cheek and then hurries off to sign them up to sing.

“Thanks for the support there, El.”

Elliott shrugs, clearly unapologetic. “Come on, man, you know the saying. Happy wife, happy life!”

Kurt scowls. “Blaine is far from my wife, Elliott.”

“Whatever, potato, po-tah-to. Keep your man happy and everything will be good. Trust me on that.”

He pats Kurt on the back, then heads over to the table filled with their mutual friends. Kurt watches him go, brain still working far too slowly to catch up to the implications of what Elliott is saying.

Elliott is already long gone by the time he finally manages to say, “Blaine isn’t my man.”

“What?” Blaine asks, appearing next to Kurt.

Kurt jumps a little. “Jeez, Blaine. You can’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Not my fault I’m so tiny you never notice me,” Blaine huffs, chest puffing out in fake annoyance.

Despite it all, Kurt laughs. “You are tiny. Short stuff.”

“Uh, wrong,” Blaine holds up a hand. “It’s Shortstop, and I prefer to go by my Christian name, Shortstop Supreme.”

“Whatever, short stuff.”

Blaine scowls up at him. “I think Pudding Motherfucker might have just made a comeback.”

Kurt laughs again and wraps his arm around a pouting Blaine, leading him back to the rest of their friends.

vii.

The graduation party is held at Blaine, Sam, and Mercedes’s apartment, since all their graduation ceremonies were almost a full week after everybody else’s, and they insisted that nobody else could party until they were all officially graduated.

It’s a small party, for just their close friends, but you’d think that there was an army invited by the amount of alcohol their hosts provide.

“I don’t know when the next time we get to let loose like this will be,” is how Blaine explains it to Kurt, clinging to his side. It’s clear that Blaine had already broken at least a couple of these bottles in before everybody else arrived. “Since we’re all graduated and adults now. Have to get jobs and shit. Ew.”

Kurt laughs and doesn’t bother to tell Blaine that the next time they’ll ‘let loose’ like this will probably be within the month. Instead he just makes himself a drink and lets Blaine wrap his arms around his middle and rest his head against his shoulder blade.

“We met at a party; do you remember?” Blaine asks.

Kurt snorts. “We met in kindergarten, Blaine.”

“Well, yeah, but we officially met at a party. I made you a drink, and then you ate thirty-five pudding cups.”

Kurt chuckles, picking up his drink in one hand and wrapping the other around Blaine’s shoulders. “How could I forget when you still call me Puddin’ to this day?”

“Such a fun nickname,” Blaine says, grinning. “Although, hey. Full disclosure. Mercedes and Sam think we’re dating because of it.”

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Yes. And also because of how you’re always here, and we get dinner with them all the time. They call them ‘double dates’.”

“And do you correct them on that?”

Blaine looks up at him, frowning a little. “Do I?”

Kurt laughs. “Oh, Blaine.” He pulls his friend in closer. “Whatever. They’re not the first people to think that.”

“Yeah, and guess what? People can think whatever they want.”

“They sure can.”

“Because you’re my Puddin’. Forever, and ever. Okay?”

“You know it.”

Blaine grips his forearm tightly with both hands, staring up at him with slight crazy eyes. “I said, okay?”

Kurt laughs, then pulls Blaine back to his side and says, “Yes, Blaine. Forever and ever. Okay.”

“Good,” Blaine says, leaning his head against Kurt’s shoulder. “Now can you please hurry up and get drunk? This all feels very uneven.”

“You got it, boss,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes fondly as he starts to drink.

viii.

“Hey,” Rachel and Mercedes are already sitting at a booth by the time Kurt arrives. Mercedes looks behind his shoulder and says, “Isn’t Blaine joining us, too?”

Kurt nods, settling himself into the booth. “He got held up at work, but he’ll be here in a few.”

“Good, good,” Rachel says, nodding. “So, things are going well for him then, I assume?”

Kurt nods again, picking up the menu. “From what he’s told me. I mean, he’s basically a glorified intern at this point, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere, right?”

The looks the girls give him tell him that they know exactly what he’s talking about.

When the waiter arrives, they give him their drink orders, with Mercedes encouraging Kurt to order for Blaine. Their drinks arrive before Blaine has, and so Kurt decides to just order Blaine’s food for him as well. They’ve all been to this restaurant enough times that he can make a fairly educated guess as to what his best friend will want after a long day.

“It’s sweet you guys know each other so well,” Mercedes says once the waiter walks away with their menus and orders. “I don’t think Sam could order for me, even if he tried.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Well, Blaine is pretty obnoxiously open about the things he enjoys. Makes it hard not to know what he likes.”

“You still pay attention, though,” Rachel says. She sighs. “And he’s the same with you. Just wait until you see what he got you for your birthday, I swear you’re going to die. Even I didn’t remember that you’d said you wanted that, and I pride myself on my attention to detail.”

“That’s kind of what happens when you’re best friends for…” it takes him a moment to calculate. “Wow, going on seven years now. Jeez, when did we get so old?”

Mercedes and Rachel share a look, then Rachel starts in on a story about the theater company she’s currently working with.

Blaine finally arrives just as Rachel is finishing up. He scoots into the booth next to Kurt and says, “Sorry I’m late,” to everybody. Then, he grins at Kurt and says, “Hey, Puddin’.”

“Hey,” Kurt responds, ignoring the fond smiles that Rachel and Mercedes shoot at them. “We already ordered, sorry if you wanted something different.”

“Kurt got you some Greek salad or something,” Mercedes says.

“You,” Blaine points at him, finger directly in Kurt’s face. “Are amazing. A true gem.” He then uses the finger to bop Kurt on the nose and then slides closer to him in the booth until their thighs are pressed together.

“Yeah, I know,” Kurt replies, with a smile. He shifts a little, his right arm stuck between him and Blaine, until he manages to pull it out and sling it over the back of the booth. “Did you get that… what was the problem again? Broken printer? Fax machine?” Blaine is smirking up at him, clearly amused. “Whatever, did you get it sorted out?”

“Mostly,” Blaine says. “It was a corrupted hard drive, and it was the big boss’s, so you know. High pressure. I think it’s fine now, but I’m going to have to head back in early tomorrow to triple check.”

“Freaking IT nerd,” Kurt says, chuckling.

“Whatever, drama queen. Oh!” Blaine’s eyes widen and he turns to fully face Kurt. “How’d your callback go?”

“Callback?” Mercedes and Rachel ask at the same time.

Kurt blushes. “Uh, yeah. I got a callback for that off-Broadway revival of Dear Evan Hanson.” Turning to Blaine, he says, “I think it went well. I mean, I feel confident about it. They said they’d get back to me by Friday, so. Fingers crossed.”

“You’re gonna get it,” Blaine says, patting him lightly on the knee. “I know you are. I mean, there’s no way anybody even close to your level of talent auditioned.”

Kurt snorts. “Sweet talker. You know flattery will get you everywhere, right?”

“Of course I do,” Blaine grins at him.

Kurt smiles back, then glances over Blaine’s face and notices something different. He frowns, then brings his hand down from the back of the booth to pull on one of Blaine’s curls. “You didn’t gel your hair.”

“Don’t even start with me,” Blaine says, turning so that he’s facing the girls again. “Today was literally the morning from hell.” He starts to explain all the horror’s of his day, everyone listening with rapt attention.

It’s only when their food arrives that Kurt realizes he’d been playing with Blaine’s hair for the entire duration of the story.

ix.

“Honey, I’m home!” Blaine calls out as he enters the apartment. Kurt rolls his eyes as he finishes shaking the butter into the giant bowl of popcorn.

“Honey, you don’t live here!” He calls back.

Blaine laughs, padding into the kitchen and giving Kurt a hug from behind. “Roommates out?”

“Santana has a hot date,” Kurt says, passing the giant bowl to Blaine. “And Elliott is… god, I don’t even know anymore. That guy has so much going on I can’t even keep up.”

“Don’t we all?” Blaine says, heading towards the living room. “I thought we were busy during college, but sheesh.”

“Well, you see some of us have to work hard for what we get. We can’t get fancy pants promotions less than a year after starting at a company.”

Blaine tuts at him. “Don’t be jealous, Puddin’. It’s not a good color on you.”

Kurt chuckles and grabs a couple of sodas from the fridge.

“Besides,” Blaine says as Kurt walks into the living room, “it’s not like you can talk. Ensemble in Dear Evan Hanson off-Broadway to ensemble in Wicked on Broadway a year after graduating. Tony by Thirty, here you come.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Kurt says, settling on the couch and grabbing the remote. “What are we watching, by the way?”

“Shitty rom-com that Netflix put out a couple of weeks ago,” Blaine replies as Kurt pulls up the Netflix app on the TV. “It looks like it’ll either be garbage, or a real tearjerker, so I figured we’d take the odds.”

“Wonderful,” Kurt says as Blaine sits down next to him on the couch, bringing the popcorn with him.

“Hey,” Blaine holds up a piece of popcorn. “Nothing but the best for my Puddin’ Pop.” He then taps the popcorn against Kurt’s lips and feeds it to him when Kurt opens his mouth.

They start the movie and, honestly, it’s more shitty than good, but they still laugh and make stupid comments to each other about it. Blaine feeds Kurt pieces of popcorn a little more often than necessary, until it becomes another stupid joke and Kurt stops grabbing his own popcorn full stop.

The movie is just finishing up and Blaine is forcing a giant handful of popcorn into Kurt’s mouth when Elliott arrives. He stares at them for a moment, Kurt with his cheeks distended from the snack, Blaine with his hand fully covering Kurt’s mouth, their movie completely ignored. Elliott then shakes his head and says, “I don’t even want to know,” before disappearing into his room.

They’re quiet until they hear his door shut, and then burst out laughing, causing half of the popcorn in Kurt’s mouth to spray all over Blaine’s face. This just makes them laugh harder.

x.

It feels like lately Blaine is the only one of his friends he gets to see. His roommates always seem to be out, Santana with her new girlfriend and Elliott with his ten million gigs. Rachel just got cast in the national tour of Moulin Rouge! and has barely had time to breathe, let alone see her friends, and Sam and Mercedes have been apartment hunting for their own place, having decided it was time to try living as just a couple, without the roommate.

Of course, that roommate happens to be Kurt’s best friend, who is sulking on his couch and slowly taking out an entire family sized bag of Cheetos by himself.

“It’s going to be okay, Blaine. You know that, right?”

“I’m going to be homeless, Kurt.”

“You are not,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “They’re leaving, not you. You still have the apartment.”

“Uh yeah, an apartment whose rent I am paying a third of. I can’t afford the full rent of that place!” He huffs, shoving more Cheetos in his mouth. “Maybe I could swing half, but that means I still have to find another roommate. Fuck everything.”

“Oh, come here,” Kurt laughs and wraps his arm around Blaine, bringing him in against his side. He pulls the bag from Blaine’s hands, then grabs a tissue from the coffee table in front of him and starts wiping the dust off his friends fingers. “It’s going to be fine, Blaine. Really.” Blaine huffs. “No, listen. I know it seems tough right now, but you already knew they were thinking about this. Yeah, it’ll be weird at first, but you’re going to get used to living alone, or with a new roommate that isn’t Sam and Mercedes. Besides, you literally just got promoted at work, and I happen to know that you’re making more than enough to afford that place on your own, at least for a bit.” He finishes wiping Blaine’s fingers, then smiles up at him. “You’re going to be okay, Blaine. Really.”

Blaine stares at him for a moment, face slowly cracking into a smile. “What would I do without you?”

Kurt shrugs. “No idea. You’ll never have to find out.”

Blaine chuckles, then leans into Kurt, head resting against his shoulder. His now-clean fingers trace a pattern on Kurt’s knee, and Kurt closes his eyes, enjoying the closeness.

“Hey, Kurt.”

“Yeah?” Kurt asks, keeping his eyes closed and head leaning back against the back of the couch.

“Are we in a relationship? Or a brolationship?”

Kurt lifts his head slowly, opening his eyes to look at Blaine. “What?”

“I mean, this. Us. Are we dating? Or do we just have one of those epic bromances that straight people are always talking about.”

He’s still tracing patterns over Kurt’s knee, and Kurt sucks on the inside of his cheek, thinking.

“Huh,” Kurt says. “I, uh. I guess I haven’t thought about it, really. I mean, I know people have made comments to me assuming we’re dating, but…”

“But…?”

Kurt looks into Blaine’s eyes, those stupid huge, wide eyes. He can’t really remember a time in his life when they weren’t right where they are now, staring up at him in question, in glee, in frustration.

Kurt smiles, then says, “We can be dating, if you want.”

His stomach flips as he says it, and it’s weird because in eight years of friendship he’s never even thought about Blaine that way. At least not consciously. The thing is, that doesn’t really register to him, because then Blaine is smiling up at him and he realizes that maybe that’s not totally true. That maybe he has thought about Blaine that way, he’s just never realized it because Blaine’s just always been there, teasing him, laughing with him, cuddling with him and calling him Diet Pudding Cup Boy since they were sixteen years old.

“Okay,” is how Blaine replies, and then he leans up and presses his lips to Kurt’s in a soft, light kiss.

Kurt smiles into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup Blaine’s jaw, deepening the kiss ever so slightly.

It’s not weird, not in the way kissing your best friend might be. Actually, Kurt thinks it’s weirder that they haven’t always been doing this.

“You taste like Cheetos,” he says.

Blaine laughs, head falling back as he does. He then rests his forehead against Kurt’s shoulder and says, “You taste like pudding.”

Kurt snorts. “I do not.”

“No, but it would have been pretty hilarious if you did.”

He keeps laughing, and so Kurt does the only thing he can think of. He grabs Blaine’s face in his hands and kisses him again.

xi.

“You two seem touchier than usual,” Elliott comments over dinner a couple of weeks later. He and Santana are sitting across from them, with Sam and Mercedes each at an end of the table. Blaine has had his arm over Kurt’s shoulders the entire meal, and Kurt has kept a hand firmly on Blaine’s thigh since he sat down. “Did you get engaged, or something?”

Kurt snorts. “Uh, no.”

“We’re just, you know. Officially dating now.”

Santana’s eyes narrow. “Were you… not before?”

“Yeah, what are you even talking about? You guys have been dating for like, years,” comes from Sam.

“We were bromancing for years,” Blaine says, squeezing Kurt’s shoulder. “Now we’re just straight up romancing.”

Kurt wrinkles his nose and says, “Gross.”

“Whatever, Puddin’, you love it.”

“So…” Elliott glances between them. “That, right there. The Puddin’ thing. That’s just like… a random nickname you have for Kurt? It’s not a pet name?”

Blaine frowns. “Is that why everyone always thought we were dating? Because I call him Puddin’?”

“Well, and all the touching and cuddling and heart-eyes,” Mercedes says. “But initially, yeah, it was the Puddin’ thing.”

Kurt snorts at that, and Blaine laughs before saying. “Uh, I call Kurt Puddin’ because the night we became friends he got drunk and ate thirty-five diet pudding cups.”

For a moment nobody says anything, the only sound in the room Kurt and Blaine’s snickers.

It’s Elliott who breaks the silence by staring at Kurt says, “What the literal fuck, Kurt. Thirty-five pudding cups?!”

Kurt and Blaine’s snickers turn into full-on laughs, Blaine resting up against Kurt as they laugh. Mercedes and Sam start to chuckle as well, though Santana and Elliott still look slightly too horrified to join in.

After several more minutes of laughing, Kurt wipes at his eyes and says, “Yes, El. I ate thirty-five diet pudding cups when I was sixteen years old.”

“The greatest Pudding Motherfucker to ever live,” Blaine says, bringing his hand up to card his fingers through the hair at the back of Kurt’s head.

Kurt grins at him and says, “Diet Pudding Cup Boy and Shortstop Supreme for ever.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Blaine replies, leaning in and kissing Kurt lightly on the lips. They giggle into the kiss.

Santana finally breaks her silence by saying, “You two are fucking weird.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and then, unable to stop themselves, burst out into even more giggles.

[skysquid200]

Convin biker AU, I hear?? 👀👀👀

Okay so. 

I may have had a sudden burst of inspiration and wrote 3k worth of a Convin biker AU. I’ll for the most part just throw down my sad attempt at understanding biker culture and basically keep everything the same. This also means that you’ll have to deal with how messy I make my outlines and notes for fics (as well as the random tense changing). So, enjoy I guess! Also this is also heavily inspired by the song, Low Beam by Her’s. (which, by the way, is such a Connor song and I could probably make a separate post on that)

Connor and Richard “Nines” Stern live two different lives. Nines left and ran away when they were in their teens. But came back reluctantly. He was always pushing boundaries while Connor colored in the lines. But they still loved each other. Nines gets into space engineering of all things and Connor gets into English and aims to be a professor. Amanda also works as a professor at a nearby collage.

One day while in their late 20’s he leaves suddenly and without warning. He leaves a letter telling Connor that he’s sorry but he’ll see him again one day and that the sciences weren’t for him.

Its years later in their mid 30’s when Nines visits again looking like a street racer. He says he’s sorry and gets briefly caught up. Connor is working as a clerk despite his degree (and he’s disappointed that he only saw Amanda at his graduation). Nines says he’s between jobs working as a mechanic and leaves it at that. He confesses that he got into some trouble and he regrets not visiting sooner. He has to leave, but Connor tries to sus out what kind of trouble he’s in and suggests Amanda’s help. Nines looks hurt and disappointed. He promises that he’ll come back when he’s safe again. It occurs to Connor that he’s in so much danger he’s visiting now in case he’ll never see him again.

So he leaves and it eats Connor up inside that he’s not safe, older brother instinct kicking in. A few days after he leaves he convinces himself to go after him, damn laws and his work. He misses and loves his brother more than anything.

Connor tries to retrace his steps and uses clues to find him. Instead of leading him to an inkling of an idea to take to the police he gets caught in a biker gangs supposed territory.

Hank catches him and is about to warn him to stop looking where he doesn’t belong but he freezes and recognizes him. In the dark it’s hard to tell so he calls out “Nines?”

Connor is thrown and forgetting that this man could snap him in half he asks hurriedly where Nines is. They talk and Hank figures out that his brother is looking for him. Connor introduces himself obligating Hank to do the same. “Uh look maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this but we can’t find him either. You probably know more than we do.”/“We?”

Hank suddenly gets a call from Gavin asking where the hell he is and that Tina may have a lead. Hank glances at Connor and he shivers. Hank says he may have one too.

Hank offers him his helmet and tells him that if he want to find Nines, he might have to break a few… rules. Cementing himself into finding him Connor takes the helmet. Before he gets on he muses that Hank doesn’t have one. He laughs and tells him to hop on. Tentatively he places his hands on his sides but as the bike ride gets more extreme, telling Connor of his skill he panics and holds on tighter. [Sidebar: Wear a helmet when riding a bike!!!!!! Don’t do this!!!!!]

They meet up, catching Tina and Gavin off guard in an old bike shop. It’s unclear if the bike shop is used in the daylight. Either way once Gavin sees that this guy ain’t Nines he’s openly hostile, criticizing his look and appearance. After Hank buts in he demands that Connor tells them everything he knows about Nines’ whereabouts. Going so far to shove him against a wall. Connor tries not to let it get to him, but he’s clearly terrified. Tina just watches all this go down. Gavin punches him in the eye and before Connor gives in Hank pulls him off and starts yelling at him. Along the lines of he’s are only chance besides the lead you got, no he won’t tell us anything now that you got him scared. Gavin argues that he’s just getting in their way. Hank spares a glance over to Connor who crumpled onto the ground like wet paper. Sighing, Hank agrees.

At hearing this Connor looks up. There’s a part of him that’s revolted. Whatever cult or gang his brother got himself into here, it’s not enough to scare him off. Even if he feels like running. Connor speaks up and says that he’s not going anywhere without finding his brother first. Gavin rolls his eyes and walks away a bit. Hank looks tired, like Connor took up all his patience. “Listen kid.”/”I’m not a kid.”/“You should just go back to where ever suburb you spawned from. Once we get Nines back we’ll give him shit for it and he’ll visit you. And everything can go back to normal.”/“Get him back, what the hell you mean by that?” G: “Way to go Hank now you’ve fucked us all over.”

At last Tina finally buts in. “Y’know Nines is usually the diplomat here, but I guess that job falls on me now huh.” Tina then goes on to explain their ‘evidence’ which is the suggestion that a rival gang grabbed him. She then says that Nines told her he had to go see someone. G:”We knew that.” T:”You idiot he was going to see Connor. That means he’s the last one to see Nines before he rode off and or got kidnapped.”

To investigate to see whether or not the rival gang took Nines or not they gotta go consult a source of theirs. But since Connor won’t leave Hank sticks with him at the shop while Tina and Gavin leave. Hank keeps vague as possible about the shop, he simply gives him an ice pack for his eye and tries to apologize on Gavin’s behalf. Connor interrupts him saying that if Gavin was sorry he would apologize for himself. Hank agrees and retracts his statement. Connor then thinks about how this all happened in about an hour. It was the middle of the night really he should go find a place to sleep. He observes the garage they’re in. Hank kept avoiding questions about where they were near where they were standing Connor spots an unused bike. As Hank kept talking he walked over to the bike. Hank caught on and walked over. He explained that was Nines’ bike and asked Connor if he had any idea what his brother did. He shook his head. “He told me he was taking odd jobs working as a mechanic.”/“Well he wasn’t really lying to you.” At last Hank confesses that this is his chop shop and Nines and the others work here. Hank realizes and explains that Connor at first seemed like the type to turn them in to the cops on the off chance they would do something illegal but now that he’s fully committed they’ll have to work together. “There’s rooms upstairs I got a couch you can sleep on until Gavin and Tina get back.” Connor finds a cat. Later they get back and they only get vague info.

[Alright this is the section I moved from a story format to a more bulleted format just to get my ideas down. Disclaimer, i’m sorry I made Markus a villain. I tried my best not to make him too bad of a person, but whoops.]

Thought the Red Blood Boys took him after Tina found a threat in their style [I took the rival biker gang name from the song.]

Talk to their in on the RBB and he was vague and high. But said that Nines did make a lot of enemies. This causes Gavin to think about Connor and see if he knows anything about enemies of Nines.

Connor won’t saying anything but is willing to let up about his enemies. Doesn’t talk about Amanda.

Connor believes there are two different people who would be considered Nines’ enemies. Hank and Tina will try one and Connor and Gavin will try the more likely suspect. Hank the leader forces Con and Gavin to work together against Gavin’s will because he needs to learn how to get along.

Hank and Tina turn up nothing but the name Amanda (no idea that’s the mother). They decide to look into it after Gavin and Connor return from their mission.

The other person turns out to have had their life ruined by Nines. It’s Daniel. He confuses Connor for Nines. They get into a shootout. Connor is able to talk Daniel down. But he runs off shortly after. Gavin calls it a draw and jokingly praises Connor for his negotiator skills.

Gavin finds a pamphlet from some cult, ”could be worth looking into.” It’s called Jericho.

They go find some food and they kinda get along. He reveals what Nines told him. It’s nothing but a goodbye message and nothing more. At least they got different leads. Soon they get back, Connor’s dead tired and promises to share info he knows with the rest of the group once he wakes back up. The other’s reconvene.

In the morning Gavin decides not to say anything about Amanda. They just go out again looking for clues about Jericho. Tina and Hank run into Josh while looking into the Professor Amanda thing. They find out that Josh has relations in Jericho so Amanda is dropped.

Josh is threatened and reluctantly tells him a location. Which Tina relays back to Gavin. The place is a set up and North ambushes Con and Gavin when they check it out. They’re able to make it out and Gavin shows that he cares about Connor. They drive back and Gavin stops for a smoke. Connor reveals who Amanda is. Bar scene and Connor gets hit on, Gavin acts a bit jealous.

While Connor sleeps he and Tina go look into Amanda. They find a stuck up professor who threatens to call the police. Gavin makes the connection of Nines’ stuck up personality and Connor’s proprietary-ness. They leave with nothing.

Meanwhile Nines is stuck in the basement of some dude’s mansion. He’s treated well and has breakfast with a fellow named Markus. He knows him. He fixed a car for him, but later when it was needed for repairs again he was given an offer to get it scrapped so he did. And then blanked Markus. Nines won’t say anything but Markus keeps monologuing how he’ll get his father’s car back hell or high water. At last he speaks saying if he wants it back he better have someone leave a ransom note for his crew. Markus agrees and muses that the fun was over once your crew threatened his friends.

Their leads die off and Jericho is unfound. Luckily a few days after the Amanda thing they get a note. It tells them to return the car or their friend will die in 14 days, no address is given. Connor is shaken up. Tina tries to find receipts. Hank goes to see if they scrapped it from sources. Gavin is told to do the same if Tina can’t find the proper receipts. Gavin encourages Connor.  

Tina calls them to say that it’s a good thing Nines was so prissy about record keeping. Except for the scrap jobs which were often illegal. There’s a note for a vintage red car and a successful exchange. Then there’s another one but no return receipt, just the order which implies the car got dropped off so it had to go somewhere. Tina confirms that the handwriting is the same.

She goes and tells Hank. Gavin banks on him scrapping it so he says to Connor that he knows just the place to get a car like that.

They meet up with Hank at this street racing gig. Sure enough after a bit of asking around they find the car that’s about to be won in a race. Simon is there and the race it’s about to begin. They watch it go down and the pure skill this Simon fellow is showing is startling. He wins and per race rules anyone can challenge him. All four muss about who will go. Gavin wants to, but Connor interjects. Silent Gavin lets him. Connor wants to say if he fucks up Gavin can just race him, but once he steps up to his still warm bike Simon does announce that if he can’t be beat twice then it’s a guarantee Simon wins.

They race. Simon gets the initial lead, but slowly Connor gains ground and makes clever use of shortcuts. At the end it seems like Simon will win but Connor thinks about Nines nearly dying and getting Gavin’s one of now three friends back is very important. He’ll win for both of them. To prove them all wrong. With another trick/shortcut he wins. [Cliche maybe, but it’s fun to read in write in a fic.] They give him his congrats and luckily no one challenges him to a race so the owner of the car give a 1 2 3 and sold. Simon’s pissed and rides off frustrated. Gavin pulls them aside and watches him ride off. He muses that he may have to memorize his face incase he comes back to kill them. Sincerely gives him a good job. Connor realizes that a real Gavin smile is one of the best things he’s ever seen. And that he may have a crush on this rat of a man. Connor also basks in the warmth of Gavin trusting him. Tina interrupts their pow-wow asking how are they gonna get the car back to the shop.

Tina looks further into the dude with the fancy car online while Hank, Connor, and Gavin talk. Hank wonders how they’re gonna get the small details down, only Nines would know. Gavin muses that the rich fuck probably doesn’t know how many miles are on the thing since these types of cars to old people are more cosmetic than anything. Tina finds out that the car belonged to a Carl Manfred and once he died it either went to one of his sons. His adopted son, Markus or Leo. No other info is given so they gotta go find out who was favored. They turn in for the night. 

Hank and Tina are the main mechanics and they gotta keep the shop alive somehow so Hank tells Gavin to look into Leo (Gavin also hates ’not doing anything’). Luckily they get a picture to go off of. They hit up the main spots for info, pretty quickly they discover Leo is a drug dealer now. They interrogate him (Gavin was making fun of the little cop dynamic they had going on) and easily find out that Markus got all the shit including the mansion. Leo gladly gives the address and tells them to make sure to send Markus a message from Leo, they ignore him.

As they stop for a now routine smoke break and drink at bar Gavin admits how much he hates rich folk. Connor can tell he’s speaking from experience. Gavin shares that he has a rich brother who left him and his mom once he got rich. Together they learned how to build with machines. Connor shares a story about the time Nines ran away from home. 

—Why didn’t Markus add any address? He doesn’t care about the life, only the car. So he’d rather make them sweat over how to get the car to him because that’s more entertaining over simply leading them there. — [I had to explain it somehow.]

They ride in, Tina in the car. They arrive to the gated lot and pull up to see Markus, and son of a bitch, Simon, North, and Josh are here too. Nines is not there. Hank does negotiations asking where Nines is and he’ll hand over the car soon as he’s released. Markus doesn’t respond he’s just staring at Connor. He smiles and turns back to an increasingly agitated Hank. ”If you want Nines to return back to his brother go to the location written on the orange post-it note in the glove box.” silence. Markus hums. ”I knew that idiot scrapped it. I’m an agreeable man. My people have let Nines go, he’s out of our hands. It’s not our fault you don’t know where he is now. I have made my part of the deal, time to do yours.” Gavin interjects and yells at him for breaking the deal. Markus pulls out a gun and leaves it at his side, North follows and Simon the same. Josh goes back into the house. Hank, Tina, and Gavin pull out their guns, Connor still doesn’t have one. Connor knows they’re out matched, North he knows from experience can kill all of them easy. Remembering how Gavin praised his negotiator skills he steps ahead. 

All three protest, but Gavin, even as Connor speaks keeps trying to get him out of there. Connor reasons with Markus on how they were able to find this place without an address, they can find Nines just as easily. The reality is that Markus is in trouble here. Connor also knows that losing one of his friends would be the worst possible solution to this, just give them some sort of address and we’ll leave the car. Markus puts away his gun. Hank and Tina lower their’s and scowl Gavin into doing the same. Markus gives them an address and tells them to get the hell out and never seem them again. Tina hops on Hank’s bike and they ride off to the destination.

It’s an old abandoned warehouse. There is one active street lamp. Gavin and Connor find Nines in a weird cage like room. Nines’ eyes widen once he sees Connor. Once he’s engaged he asks if he’s hallucinating before hugging the crap out of Connor. He asks with a ragged voice “how did you…?” But he turns to Gavin before he waits for an answer and hugs him. G:”Your cat misses you.” N: ”Thank you for taking care of him.” They get outside and they all hug it out and cry a little and joke. Nines recognizes that Connor has his bike and then pulls him aside.

He asks how he got into this mess. Connor tells him it’s a long story and he’ll tell him more once Nines is able to speak properly. Nines agrees and tells him that he should go home. He hugs him. Nines lets on and jokes about how the two behave around each other. Before leaving he walks over to Gavin.

N: ”Take him home. Treat him well.” He winks and Gavin blushes blushes. Gavin weakly kicks at his shins and tells him that he shouldn’t be driving. Nines says he’s getting soft and he’ll stop by a gas station and freshen up. Gavin throws a few colorful swears at him. Connor walks up and tells him to not mind his brother. “Oh don’t worry I’ve been dealing with his smartass for years now.”

Connor rides behind him. But unlike before with Hank he wasn’t scared, instead he leans into Gavin’s back and is tall enough to put his head on top of Gavin’s. [Once again, ride with a helmet!!!!] Connor loops his arms around Gavin’s stomach. (Little does he know Gavin is using all his concentration on trying not to crash his fucking bike.) Gavin walks him to his door and it’s clear that Gavin is stalling a little bit. Gavin asks what he’s gonna do now. Connor admits that he doesn’t really know what to do career wise. But he does know what to do about his love life. Without much hesitation he kisses Gavin against his door. He responds greedily. Before things get too out of hand Connor breaks it off and laments that he’s so so tired. Gavin smirks and teases him about the fact he wasn’t a night owl at all. “Yeah? When did you sleep?”/“In shifts dumbass.” Connor ends the conversation by wishing him goodnight. Connor gets ready to sleep in his own bed. He makes it clear to himself to make some changes starting tomorrow. Namely visiting his brother, distancing himself from Amanda and go on a proper date with Gavin. He’d like to see the rough and dirty biker wearing a suit in a restaurant. End with sweet anecdote.

That’s all I got. It’s sorta, in a way, dedicated to @barbaesparza. 

And here’s the song which helped inspire this monster. I also named this AU ‘Low Beam’ because of it. 

[chiseki]

Figured I’d make this an intro post, since I’m pretty much using this alternate url as an “out” url compared to my usual vagueness.

I’m Joshua. Yes, that matches the sidebar, so it’s not really surprising here.

And that would surprise an entire two people following my main blog that know me irl because the rest were previously informed. Maybe three people, I forget if the last one is on tumblr or not.

Which is, by the way, ““““““““fun”““““““““

Yup, having like three local friend circles that had relations to each other outside of myself, and only one of them being in the know is fun.

You can basically stop reading at this point, because from here on out is just gonna be a massive time rewind to.....jeez, fuck if I know when, my childhood? I promise there will be time skips, we don’t need that mess played at normal tempo. (Also some funny stories after the giant gap in the text, if you want to scroll for that).

Most of this story is actually located in college, but the only real indicator (aside from having a general dislike of dresses) was way back when I was in all of second grade--apparently I was so damn insulted I burned all these facts into my memory--and an older kid was brought into the classroom, gave us this cool sales pitch about do we want to learn to shoot a bow, go camping, build campfires, etc

and then was like “OH YEAH THIS IS THE BOY SCOUTS IT’S BOYS ONLY”

I was so hyped lol.

Wound up being in a mediocre girl scout troop later, and my brother obviously got directed into boy scouts. At which point I got to find out that their camping trips were mostly getting rained on and finding black windows and getting taught woodworking by a dude missing a chunk of finger.

So more suffering than child me would have expected, but they still got to build fires and go REAL camping and shoot bows and rifles and shit.

Meanwhile, in girl scouts, we went to this one set of cabins every year. We never stayed in the damn cabins, because someone would find A Bug in there, or a spider, and then someone ELSE would have the same issue, and no one wanted to be in a cabin alone let alone be the only one in the cabins at all, and we always wound up sleeping in the air conditioned lodge that was visible from the damn cabins.

Except the one year where we went to a different camp, stayed in the legendary caboose, and there was a bat sleeping on the outside of the window so no one wanted to sleep there except me.

My scout group was weak.

I miss the cookies, though.

Anyway, due to not being forced into gender-targeted toys and getting to play with whatever the fuck I wanted, I also have jack shit for anything resembling an early warning sign aside from the above.

Actually, scratch that, I was not really a fan of dresses. I mean, this was fair in general, since they were usually scratchy, didn’t fit my arms/shoulders right, were designs I had no say in, and everyone would get on my case if the dress might get even a LITTLE dirty. Had some skirts I liked in middle school, but even that was a mess of having to wear tights because my genes have never resulted in anything resembling a thigh gap.

And I was like, constantly trying to play with the guys in grade school. And they’d periodically get that “NYEHHHHHHH GUYS ONLYYYYYY” shit going on. That was never not infuriating tbh.

Flash forward to high school, still basically left to my own devices. Only indicator here was that I was just tickled fucking pink whenever I heard that I either passed at cons or was at least tossed in the “maybe.......?” zone.

Flash forward to college. I honestly don’t remember what set me off on thinking about it, but started eyeballing my gender with a microscope. Unfortunately I couldn’t apply a litmus test like sexuality, so there was a lot of “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhfuck” going on.

Actually, I think part of it was that on the forum I hung out on, a lot of the old regulars had assumed I was a dude until a childhood friend had dropped a pronoun several times in succession & asserted its correctness, which then led to a discussion along the lines of “whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat”.

But yeah, started testing the waters.

Also tried going to a LGBT+ club like, once. With the gal I was either dating at the time or was about to be dating, my memory is shit tbh. “HEY SO HOW ABOUT WE ALL JUST COME OUT TO EACH OTHER, A BUNCH OF STRANGERS <33333333″ still freaks me out, honestly. I get why it’s generally done, but like, no thanks. But I was horrendously obvious in ducking about the gender question and she totally called me out on it later in private lol. Also got me my first binder, but I digress.

Anyway, basically spilled on “I’m.....probably..............? a dude...........? jsyk??????” to my immediate friends, which was met with a lot of “.....YEAH ACTUALLY THAT MAKES SENSE” and a “hang on I need a dictionary........ok I get it”

I think I was the least smooth part of anything resembling a coming-out just due to like, me not wanting to have to tell people to do things for me? It’s something I find extremely awkward, like I know it’s that horribly stereotypical dating thing of “what’s wrong, bby, what do I have to do” “I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO TELL YOU WHAT TO DO” but.

And that’s an entire digression about how my relationship with my mother often included me saying a lot of shit I had to say convincingly, but didn’t mean at all, and probably led to me having fuckall faith in what people say, most especially when under a forced prompt. I could do an essay on that, but not here.

Which, admittedly, I’m gonna rewind here because I think it’s funny in hindsight, but it means the dictionary reaction went like “SO...........I’M.............TRANS?” “What?” [thinking this is pushback on the idea] [PANIC MODE] “UH” “Like, literally, what does that word mean, I've never heard it in my life.” “OH. WELL. Heh. Uh. That internal reaction I had was embarrassing then, oops.”

Anyway.

Then the collective action was, “well, have you picked a name what do you MEAN you haven’t picked a name, we can’t just run about calling you by your deadname after all that”

And I tossed some names out, that I’m not going to list, because they were just fucking awful. So I got interventioned and the method became throwing names at me until they stuck.

Adam? Nah I knew an Adam and I can’t unassociate with that

Noah? Violin teacher’s third kid was named Noah. Same issue with Gabriel and Caleb.

Benjamin? I fucking grew up with a Benjamin he would kill me.

you get the idea.

And those were like, actual reasonable rejections. At least half the time I was just like “I DON’T LIKE HOW IT SOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNDS.” Take, for example, Josh. I 1) knew one in high school and he was a piece of work and 2) I just, inexplicably, don’t like how the word sounds.

Which is part irony and part masochism that JoshUA stuck.

I mean, that name had pre-existing connotations for me. I had played..........a game.........in high school. And given that my options were pretty shafted to Stereotypical White Boy Names if I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb, some positive(?) pre-existing connotations were going to be needed.

Incidentally, I had a v. sweet trans girl offer me her deadname, which was a cool name, but just, like, didn’t fit me in particular so. She also picked her name by RNG tournament, with the top 10 baby names for her year being the competitors. Which was neat and worked well for her, but I know I would have just re-run the fucking tourney if I didn’t like the winner lol.

But anyway, continuing on to a less flowery story. I’ll add some blank lines so it’s skippable. No need to set off every other person with gender issues here.

Decided to come out to my family. Apparently time fuzzed down my memories of being devoured by mosquitos outside while my parents were trying to decipher that their kid was holding hands with a girl in the back of the van and that girl had been planned to sleep over that night, and despite the fact that booth teens wouldn’t be jumping to sex that fast nor had the equipment to make a kid between them....it was Reason For Concern like a straight couple sharing a bed.

I mean, my mom was convinced that anything touching the nether regions was SEX and PREMARITAL SEX was EVIL. But I digress.....again.

So. I tell them. And the reaction ranged from “well ok I mean you’ve always been weird” (thanks, bro) to “uh I guess my last name’s odds of getting inherited just doubled........?” to “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME”

Yeah. That last one was word for word. Some stuff was thrown, lots of crying (”I CAN’T EVEN DO MY MAKEUP AND IT’S YOUR FAULT”)--both of which were not my doing, though I got shocked(?) into my own set of tears iirc.

I think I set a speed record for climbing back into the closet. Like, a week later, everyone was pretending it never happened. I sorta emotionally cut ties with my mom at that point--kept it civil, but Did Not Want to discuss my life or friends at all with her or in any way that would get back to her.

So obviously, no one in my family knows I go by Joshua. If they asked, I would tell them, but lo and behold, zero questions, they never brought it up again, etc. And I’ve been very careful about not letting that knowledge spread, not putting it on the internet in a way that connects back to my legal name, being primed at any point to pretend “Joshua” is a mutual friend and to not respond to that name if someone accidentally calls me by it.

Incidentally, during Yet Another Family Counseling that was at least performed at an individual level this time, my mom apparently told the counselor that she thought she handled that well. Last I checked, making the situation about yourself and doing the whole “woe is me, the mother, with a child like this” shpeal was not “well”.

And I mean the WHOLE shpeal. If you’ve ever had the misfortune to see the posts by parents of trans kids that wax soliloquy about losing their child and mourning their “death” (especially the ones that aren’t all “but I got a new kid!”) like, the ones especially cut from the same cloth that would be like “my child is autistic but ~I~ am the inspiration for waking up in the morning” like no, your kid is the inspiration for dealing with you.

And if anyone is wondering, this is basically the Midwest Stereotype for....LGBT, interracial dating, etc rejection imo. Seemingly ok with it, but NO WAIT HANG ON, NOT MY CHILD. Like, I legit had trans kids explained to me (albeit without terms for it) at a relatively young age by my mother and yet. “X exists but not in our good christian neighborhood” attitude. Ugh.

So where was I? Hmm, yes, funny Joshua stories. Ok I have like ONE story. One of my friends that was in the know finally got me to play Trails in the Sky. Now, this sucker has a chunk of text lead-in with a ~mysterious~ boy that young Estelle’s father has brought home, and the whole discussion skips his name, ending on “my name is....”. Then it time-skips to present day, finally casually dropping this dude’s name, which, obviously, is Joshua.

My friend did not tell me this.

No warning, nada. Only Estelle had really come up in conversation.

And then we collectively dragged another friend into the abyss with us, except he wasn’t in the know. We also had him streaming his playing sessions when our schedules coincided, which led to--because of a shitty accuracy stat--him yelling (as we did) “JOSHUA!” frequently in combat.

I debated on just responding “Yes?” randomly one day in the most casual closet-exit possible. Then procrastinated by deciding to just be out with it at the end of the first game since he’d also played twewy.

Some of you have probably started to eye my avatars with judgement in your hearts. That’s fair.

Anyway, we had forgotten about another character that practically had his name, so at least I had someone to share my weird feelings with.

And then, he started the second game, and I didn’t hold back on responding “yes?” every time “Joshua” was used as an interjection.

Also because of that one post about biblical names, I will respond to any use of “Jesus”.

[jewishaxelwalker]

Driving Faster, Windows Down

It’s that Lyft driver AU I said I’d write back in 2017, finally finished after 10 months. Also available on AO3.

It was an abnormally slow Friday night.

Axel’d been driving around aimlessly for a while, patiently waiting to be pinged for a fare, but no one was biting. Keystone had a good public transit system, and its people were abnormally obsessed with cars, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t tourists out there that’d rather take a Lyft than a taxi. Maybe they just hadn’t made the switch from Uber yet. Like come on, read your Facebook sidebar sometime.

His phone made a noise, and Axel jumped. It was just Joey calling, so he put him on speaker.

“You’re on with Ron.” He deadpanned, and on the other end of the line, Joey snorted.

“Dead night?”

“I’d get more action in a graveyard, dude.”

Joey laughed out loud, and Axel pulled into a Shell station. No need to roll and waste when he wasn’t getting fares to fill his gas tank. He and Joey chatted for a bit about the usual junk; Axel’s online classes were inane, Joey’s brother was still bugging him about moving to Gotham so he could use him as a free babysitter (”Seriously dude, how the hell is your niece so cute? Jack is as pug-ugly as they come.”), Kesha’s Instagram feed, the Combines having yet another fantastically losing season-

And then his phone pinged with a ride request. Three blocks away. Single passenger, some shitty little motel not a mile from the airport.

“Gotta go, man. I think I’m about to be some flight attendant’s ride of triumph.” He hated the other term. Getting laid was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Oh, sweet. If she’s hot and heading to Gotham, I’ll be on the next flight.” Axel shook his head, switching the bluetooth back to his Google Play. Hitting on customers was how Joey’d gotten dismissed from his last two jobs. He loved his best friend, but thinking with his dick was gonna get Joey killed someday.

And failing to pay attention to who he was picking up was going to get Axel killed. He didn’t even glance at the passenger notification until he’d pulled into the motel parking lot. He was expecting a blonde Cindy or a brunette Sharona, not a redheaded Owen.

“Axel?” The guy asked as he climbed into the back seat, and Axel swallowed hard.

“The one and only.” Owen grinned, and there was a slight chance Axel gunned it a bit too hard on the way out of the parking lot.

Axel liked driving for Lyft because he got to meet a lot of new and interesting people he could subject to his musical taste. Yeah, some of his passengers were hotter than others, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be getting the Indie Girl Kitchen treatment.

“You got any preference, or can I just put on whatever?” He asked, flicking through his playlists as they waited at the light. Owen frowned.

“Maybe something chill? I’ve been stressing out of my mind for the last two hours, and I don’t want to look like a psycho when I get there.” Axel immediately flicked over to artists. Fuck the playlists, Owen was getting The Valley. Yeah it was a breakup album, but it was also the best thing he’d heard all year and it relaxed him like nothing else.

Owen sank back into his seat as the album started. Axel wondered if he should interrupt what was clearly going to be a pivotal moment in his life with small talk, but Owen beat him to it.

“Is it a slow night or something? You were there less than three minutes after I called for a ride.” Axel shrugged, glancing up at the rearview mirror. Owen was watching him intently.

“It’s always slow in this town but yeah, tonight was dead. Pretty much the only people that use Lyft are teenagers with no cars and tourists. Driving is a huge thing in Keystone.” His eyes wandered to the mirror again, but Owen was looking out the window now. “Where you from?” The accent had a northeastern touch to it, but Axel couldn’t quite place the state.

“Oh, uh, Gotham. But if tonight goes good, I’m probably gonna end up moving here.” Owen cut himself off by sticking his index finger in his mouth, chewing on the nail. “Hey, can I like, vent something? Taxicab Confessions style?” Axel nodded, not wanting to interrupt what was bound to be an excellent bit of wordvomit. “So uh, my foster mom died two weeks ago.”

“Holy shit man, I’m sorry-“ He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, berating himself. No more outbursts. “But go on.” Owen bit his lip, staring down at his hands.

“My foster mom died two weeks ago. I mean, I’m 23, I’ve been on my own for a few years now, but we still kept in touch. She raised me from when I was 8. She was my mom. I was in her will and everything. What she left me was, uh, well aside from some money and a few of her things, she left me the ability to find my dad. My biological dad. He’s been living in Keystone for like ten years now, and she tracked him down ages ago when she found out that he’d been looking for me. She told him that I was healthy and happy and not to fuck up my life by coming into it unless he meant to stay and raise me.” They were lucky for the traffic. Some Kinda Wonderful slid into You Can Cry Tomorrow, and Owen cleared his throat.

“I can turn this off, if it’s bothering you.” Axel offered, but Owen just shook his head.

“No, I like it. Anyway, I got in contact with him last week. He told me he’d book me a flight as soon as he could, because he’d been waiting years to meet me. Which leads to today. I told him not to pick me up at the airport, that I’d meet him for dinner somewhere, and I’m kinda freaking out? I don’t even know what he looks like. I mean, what if we look nothing alike, and he loses it because I look like the mom I’ve never met? What if we look a lot alike and it turns out I’m gonna age like shit? And those are just the petty, superficial fears!  Like, what if his family has a history of cancer or depression or erectile dysfunction or something?”

Axel started when he realized that Owen’s question didn’t seem to be rhetorical. 

“I think it might be a good idea to just breathe, Owen. Start with the simple stuff, like how you both probably loved Pacific Rim, then get down to the medical histories.” Owen was looking at him again, his mouth quirked in a crooked little grin. “What?”

“I totally loved Pacific Rim. I lost my shit when Cherno Alpha got taken down by Leatherback.” Axel could fall in love with this man. He could. Owen wasn’t protesting The Valley and remembered details about Pacific Rim. It didn’t hurt that he was hotter than the surface of Mercury.

He selfishly hoped that the traffic would keep up the glacial pace. It didn’t, of course, and they were at the restaurant less than a song later.

“I’m sure your dinner will go fine. And if it doesn’t, just call for a Lyft. I’m pretty sure I’m one of like six people driving tonight for the whole city, you can vent again.” Which wasn’t an exaggeration, Lyft just had not taken off in Keystone the way it had in places like Gateway City and Metropolis. Sometimes when he was strapped for cash, Axel crossed the bridge into Central and got fares there. They had a different center of industry, after all. Owen was smiling again, actually smiling, and it felt like his heart had crawled up into his throat.

“I’ll keep that in mind. And, thanks man. For the ride and. Yeah.” Owen reached out, snagging his hand and giving it a little squeeze. He left behind a $10 bill. “Hope I get you again sometime.”

After Owen left, Axel lurked in the area until after midnight. No pings ever came. It was disappointing, but it also meant that Owen and his father had peacefully reconnected, which was nice. He turned off his active status and drove home.

***

A few weeks passed and slowly, Axel began to forget about his handsome passenger. School let out for summer, which meant fares by the dozen. His grades came back eventually, and as he’d expected, he’d aced everything. Joey’s brother finally wore his best friend down.

“I still can’t believe you’re actually moving to Jersey.” He complained one night while they packed up Joey’s half of their apartment. Jack had paid Joey’s part of the rent for the next six months, more than enough time for Axel to find a new roommate, but still.

“Moving back to Jersey,” Joey reminded him. “And me neither. But Janice has had to travel a lot for work lately, and they don’t want Becky to be raised by some nanny.” 

“You better come back to visit.” Axel grumbled, shoving the contents of one of Joey’s drawers into a box a bit harder than necessary. “So I can show off how awesome my new roommate is.”

Joey went quiet, the clacking of DVD boxes coming to a slow halt. “You already found someone?” Axel sighed.

“Dude. I haven’t even put out an ad yet. I’ve got six months of walking around naked without someone yelling at me to get some damn pants on to savor, first.”

They laughed, and Joey pulled him into a hug.

“I’m gonna miss the hell out of you, Ax. Now c’mon, my flight is in two days, and we’ve still gotta get all this shit to UPS.”

At least one upside to this moving business, Jack was footing the bill for everything. Which meant that Joey’s few boxes of possessions that wouldn’t fit into his plane luggage were making it to Gotham in style.

All too soon, it was time to make their way to the airport.

“Don’t let the new guy do anything weird to my room.” Joey said. “And you lay down the fuckin’ law in regards to all prog rock.”

“Yes to Yes, Rush can suck dicks in hell.” It had been literally the first thing Joey had said to him two years ago, when he’d shown up at their apartment, looking to rent the other room. “You call me when the plane lands, okay? Like, from the runway.” They hugged again, and Axel felt his spine pop a little when Joey lifted him off the ground.

As soon as Joey was through his gate, Axel turned his Lyft notifications back on. He was already at the airport, after all, and it wasn’t like Jack was throwing in money for groceries. Within seconds of making it to his car, the app pinged with a ride request. The name made him blink, a grin spreading out onto his face.

Owen M is requesting a ride.

He met Owen back at the same terminal he’d just left, taking note of the pair of huge canvas duffel bags. The dinner with his dad must have gone amazingly well.

“Axel!” Owen was all smiles when he hopped out of the car to help him with his bags. “Man, you really are the only Lyft driver in this city, huh?” Axel snorted.

“Nah, my roommate needed a ride. He’s moving back to Gotham, to be closer to his family.”

“What a coincidence, that’s exactly what I’m doing here.”

When they stood side by side to shove everything into the trunk, Axel noticed that he was a good foot shorter than Owen. Yowza. 

Don’t pull a Joey, you’re good at this driving shit.

As they left the airport and got onto the highway, Axel wondered what he should say. Should he ask about Owen’s flight? The route he was taking wasn’t leading to the motel, but to a residential area. He was probably going to be staying with his dad while he looked for an apartment. In the end, it was Owen who drew first blood.

“I looked up that album you were playing when I got back home, it was really killer." 

I need to call my mom, because I’ve met the man I’m going to marry.

“Yeah?” He said instead, feigning casual. “Which songs did you like best?”

“Wellll...the cover of that Donna Lewis song was somehow earworm-ier than the original, but Blue Heaven Midnight Crush definitely did the most for me. The rest of the songs were so sad, when you actually listened to the lyrics. But that one, it’s so hopeful. I like songs like that.” Giving random strangers mixtapes was weird, right? It was definitely weird, calm down. “Oh, so in case you couldn’t tell, I live here now. My dad is putting me up until I find a place of my own.”

Thank god, a change of subject.

“You shouldn’t have too much trouble, plenty of people out there are looking for roommates.” A glance in the rear view mirror showed that Owen was watching him intently. “What?”

“Didn’t you just ship your roommate off to Gotham?”

Bad idea bad idea bad idea.

“Yeah, well. You could probably find a better part of town to live in-” Owen grinned, and Axel’s hands gripped the wheel hard enough to dent it. “I don’t even need to put out an ad for a couple of months, his half is paid up for a while.”

Mercifully, they soon pulled up in front of an unassuming apartment building not ten blocks from his own. Owen caught his eye in the mirror again, then glanced away.

“Hey, maybe this is weird but, would you mind if I gave you my number? It could be cool to have a local to hang with that isn’t my dad.” As if on cue, a tall-ish, pudgy man with auburn hair rushed out of the building, practically ripping the driver-side rear door open.

“Owen! I got th’ day off after all! Did yeh flight get in early?” The man had an accent that was definitely not from around here.

“This is your local?” Axel asked, eyebrow raised, and Owen laughed.

“He’s lived here for like, a decade. He knows which Denny’s is the good Denny’s, and that’s all that matters.”

“No such thing as a good Denny’s.” Axel and Owen’s father said, practically in unison, and Axel groaned, head thunking to the steering wheel. I’ve been set up.

“Friend of yers, Owen?” The older man asked curiously, looking Axel up and down as he got out and popped the trunk. “Bit young, innit he?”

Axel huffed as he helped Owen drag out one of his insanely heavy duffels. “I’m 20. And what the fuck is in here man, a dead body?”

“Close, it’s the bones of the guy that took me to the airport back in Gotham.” Owen was cheeky, when he wasn’t anxious. That was. Definitely dangerous. “So...your number? That way I can just throw you gas money next time I need a ride somewhere.”

“I knew you had ulterior motives. Everyone only wants me for my sweet wheels.” Axel replied dryly, but he grabbed a marker from his center console anyway, scribbling his number on Owen’s wrist. Owen grinned down at him as Axel kept hold of his wrist a few seconds longer than necessary, and that’s when his father reasserted his presence. 

“And I’m George!” He said, a bit too loudly to be casual. “Folks called me Digger. And you are, boy that’s bound to be ‘round for tea at some point?” Owen snorted, lips clamped shut to keep from laughing.

“Axel.” He was good at parents, parents always loved him. Other people’s parents, at least. “I’m one of the two Lyft drivers in town. I actually live like, two miles from here.”

That admission sent Digger off on a spiel about some restaurant in the area that had kicked him out last year, and Axel suddenly realized why he’d had a prickling feeling of familiarity this whole time. “I was there for that!” Digger stopped himself mid-sentence, jaw going slack. “Yeah, you got kicked out of Marcela’s at like, one in the morning after you tried to fight the waiter and he totally-” Kicked your ass, Axel didn’t say, but the sentiment hung in the air regardless. “I’m uh. Gonna go. I think I have another ride.”

He didn’t, but it sped up the process of getting Owen’s bags out of his car. Axel drove around aimlessly for a little bit afterwards, his phone off in the passenger’s seat. He only turned it on again once he was in his apartment, and it immediately rang.

“Dude I’ve been calling for like an hour I almost hopped back on the goddamn plane.” Axel sighed, flopping down onto the couch, kicking off his shoes. 

“I miss you too, buddy. How’s that glorious Gotham smog?”

“Like a party in my lungs and everyone’s throwing up. Why was your phone off?” The sigh was deeper this time, and Axel thunked his head against the arm of the couch a few times.

“Remember that guy I told you about, from a month back? Well...” As he spilled out the story, Joey helpfully laughed at him. Multiple times. “Hey, shut up. Unlike you, I don’t make a habit of chasing down every warm body that turns my head.”

“Yeah but also unlike me, you’ve dated like, half a person in all the time I’ve known you.” He had a point. “And does it really count as a date if the guy leaves the theater halfway through to-”

“Point taken!” Axel yelped, frowning at the continued buzzing in his ear. “Were you blowing up my texts, too? I’ve got like ten.”

“Don’t look at me, you know my fingers don’t like texting.” It was true, Joey had hands the size of Axel’s head. Which meant- 

“Oh my god he’s been texting me almost this whole time, what do I do.”

“Depends, there an unsolicited dick pic in there?”

“Joey! Also, no.”

Sorry about that, my dad can be...a lot :( But I promise he’s lonely and weird in a good way.

I honestly didn’t think you were 20, btw. I was convinced a fetus had somehow conned its way into the DMV.

That was a joke.

Shit you probably don’t text and drive. Which is good, don’t text and drive.

It’s wild that it’s only like 7pm. My body is convinced it’s later. I mean I know Keystone and Gotham are only an hour apart, but this city goes to sleep earlier.

Do you wanna get something to eat? I don’t start my job until Monday, so I have like three days to kill and I want to explore things.

The city, I mean.

Oh my god I’m just blowing up your phone like some kind of desperate creep I’m so sorry

If on the off chance you haven’t blocked me, I’m walking over to the park we passed on the way to my dad’s place, to bang my head against a tree for a while

“...wow, he’s a loser.” Axel snorted but honestly...yeah, he kinda was.

“He’s a cute loser. And he likes my music.”

“Keeper.”

“Definitely. I’ll call you tomorrow, Joey. I’ve gotta go save some trees.” Just as he was about to hang up, his friend got in one last jab.

“So when he eventually moves in with you next week, turn my room into a game room so I don’t have to think about you two fucking in there.”  There was a click as Joey disconnected, and Axel covered his face with his hands.

***

The park, funny enough, was only two blocks from his house so instead of wasting gas, Axel grabbed a hoodie off the hook by the door and walked over. He was halfway there before he realized that the jacket he was wearing was one of the ones Joey had shrunk in the wash and left behind. Still didn’t fit him right.

By the time he’d made his way past the last few joggers and couples out for a nice little nighttime stroll and spotted Owen, the taller man was fully laying down on a bench near the small playground, messing with his phone. Moments later, Axel’s own phone buzzed.

I’m by the playground, because I’ve knocked down every tree in the park.

“Yeah, I noticed the path of destruction on the way over.” Axel said as soon as he was close enough, and Owen visibly jumped.

“Jesus! I didn’t think you’d get here that fast! Or at all, really. I was pretty sure I’d basically destroyed the chance of you ever wanting to see me again by sending you fifty texts in under an hour.” Axel shrugged, perching on the very edge of the bench until Owen got the message and sat up properly.

“Man, don’t even worry about it. I’ve screwed up at least one thing a day, every day, my entire life. I’m like a unicorn! Of failure.” That caused Owen to laugh, and Axel grinned to himself. “So what caused you to flee into the night this soon after coming to town, huh?”

Owen coughed, looking down at his feet. The playground was covered in tire mulch, and it looked like some of the bits had made their way into his boots. “So uh. As it turns out, my dad has been seeing someone for a while, and it’s serious enough that he wants me to meet her and her kids sometime this week, because they’re probably going to end up moving in together within the year.”

Yikes.

“Wow that is. You weren’t kidding about your dad being a lot, huh?” Owen grimaced. “Don’t tell me it gets better?”

“The woman he’s been seeing is my biological mom."

Well, holy shit.

Owen ended up spilling the story over the course of the next few minutes, about how his dad and mom had dated briefly years ago, she’d gotten pregnant, and her family had forced her to cut off all contact with Digger and put the baby up for adoption...only for her to run off with a man they absolutely hated (but who was, by all accounts, basically the best guy ever) a few years later. She and the other guy had gotten married, she’d given birth to a pair of twins, and then a few years after that, the guy just up and dies on her. She and the kids bounce around the States for a while, finally settling down across the river from her shitty family that, despite everything, still want to be in her life and get to know her sons. She and Digger ran into each other at the supermarket a couple of months before Owen contacted him, and-

“He didn’t even tell you that your mom was back in his life?! Man, that’s about twenty times the legal limit on ‘a lot’.”

“To be fair-” Axel made an angry little noise, and Owen winced. “To be fair, she’s the one who’s scared as hell to meet me. I mean, she was like, your age when she gave me up. Then she just turned around and started another family without bothering to even try and find me. Dad says that Meloni, that my mom, she’s felt guilty for the last 23 years. Because I’ve been out here all this time, becoming a person, and she doesn’t know anything about me.” There was a little hitch in Owen’s voice there, and they both got very still. “Ah, shit. Ah, geez man I’m-”

“Parents ain’t shit sometimes, even when they’re trying their best.” Axel said quietly, reaching over to hold onto Owen’s elbow. “I uh, I’ve kinda been on my own a while, too. I moved in with Joey like, three months after I turned 18. And, and my situation ain’t anything like yours, but I get it, you know?”

Owen propped the elbow Axel wasn’t holding up on his knee, resting his cheek on his closed fist. Go on, then, his eyes seemed to say in the reflection of the dim lights that were flickering on around the playground. Tell me a story, weird boy. 

The summer before his senior year in high school, Axel’s mom found out Axel’s dad was banging one of his coworkers. They filed for divorce later that same month. Dad moved out, and mom and Axel spent the entire school year selling off or hiding anything valuable he might try and take in the divorce proceedings. They sold the house and split the money down the middle. Dad, now living with his coworker (soon to be fiance), told Axel he couldn’t live with him. Mom, who was planning on taking off for middle-of-nowheresville, Iowa to stay with some cousins, told him that he was welcome to come along, but she’d understand if he wanted to stay, as he’d been accepted to a couple of in-state colleges. He couldn’t afford to go to them, but he also didn’t want to leave the only city he’d ever known.

He stayed. He got a million different shitty jobs. He found a good roommate after one or two bad starts. He enrolled in online classes. He managed to save little odds and ends here and there, enough to do some fun shit, like buy the albums he really liked on vinyl like some kinda hipster, and see a couple of movies a month in the theater. He could afford Netflix, so long as Joey paid for their joint Hulu account. He wasn’t living the dream, but he also wasn’t just straight up surviving. He had a life.

“And then one day, I picked up this weird ginger from a shitty motel by the airport, and here we are.”

Owen was quiet for a while, just watching him and processing. Finally, he spoke.

“When do you turn 21?” Axel blinked.

“Uh, April 17th.” Owen scowled. “What?”

“Well this just means you’re gonna need to wait outside or in an alley or something while I buy liquor, because I think we both need a drink right goddamn now.”

***

In the end, Axel managed to convince Owen to just meet him back at his apartment with his booze. The walk from the park to the closest liquor store should take about half an hour for someone who doesn’t know the area and is just going off their phone’s GPS, which gave him a solid hour to turn the half-empty wreck that was his home into something presentable.

Joey was, of course, in hysterics.

“You’re telling me that not only is he coming back to your place after the two of you had a heart to heart in a public park, but he’s planning on bringing alcohol, which you’re actually planning on drinking?! Was it me? Was I the one holding you back from reaching your true potential? I’ve been gone like half a day and you’re already on the track to getting hella laid.” 

“I’m not gonna get laid.” Axel protested, throwing the boxes they’d never gotten around to taking to the homeless shelter into Joey’s room, as well as the small stack of empty pizza boxes from his goodbye party the week before. “We’re gonna watch a movie, I’m gonna try not to hate beer for once, maybe he’ll crash here. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Dude...it took me like a month to get you to tell me the deal about your folks. This guy just levels the right look at you and you’re singin’ like a canary. You’re gonna have one beer and just throw yourself at him.”

“So then I won’t drink, and we’ll just watch the various Jurassic Park movies until we fall asleep.” The couch pillows were shitty, so he grabbed a couple of his own (one which was shaped like BB-8, the other that was shaped like R2-D2) from his room, as well as a blanket from his closet, just in case.

“We don’t have any of the Jurassic Park movies on- oh my god you’re gonna use Netflix.”

“Uh, obviously?” Axel replied, triple checking to make sure that there wasn’t any random embarrassing junk in the living room. “Why?”

“Axel. You’re gonna Netflix and chill. I’m so proud of you, my baby bird is finally leaving his nest.”

“You’re the worst friend I’ve ever had.” There was a knock on the door, and Axel froze. “I gotta go, he’s here.”

“There should still be condoms under the c-” Hanging up on Joey had never felt so good.

***

“Okay but like, what I wanna know is, if they clocked the T-Rex going like 30 miles an hour in the last movie, and she couldn’t catch a jeep, how come she can’t catch a single one of these people running away from her on foot in this one??? She’s been hunting wild for years, get your head in the game, girl!”

Axel might be a wee smidge drunk.

In his defense, Owen hadn’t come bearing beer, he’d brought whiskey. Whiskey with honey in it, that tasted amazing with the coke he had left in the fridge. He’d had almost an entire Flanigan’s cup already. Next to him on the couch, Owen laughed. He’d lost his boots during the second half of the first Jurassic Park, and currently had his legs slung over the arm, the bottle he was drinking from on the floor. He was using one of Axel’s stupid Star Wars pillows so that his head was propped up enough for him to actually see the TV.

“Jeff Goldblum is a shitty dad.” He said, words muffled a little by the way BB-8 was pressing against his cheek. “Also doesn’t he have like, three kids? I thought he said he had three kids. Where are the other two?”

“Safe, somewhere that’s not an island filled with fucking dinosaurs!” Axel yelled that last part, causing his downstairs neighbor to throw something hard at the ceiling. “Sorry, Mrs. Oberman!” He went to take a long sip from his cup, finding it empty. “Oh...shit...I should probably like. Get some water. You want some water?” His legs buckled as he tried to stand, sending him toppling back down to the couch with a surprised yelp. BB-8 slipped out from under Owen’s head as he laughed at him some more, reaching over to pat Axel on the arm.

“Chill, young padawan. Gimme your cup, I’ll get you some water.” Owen didn’t seem to have any trouble sitting up and walking around, the bastard.

“Why aren’t you drunk?” Axel demanded, taking his cup back with a frown. Owen just shrugged.

“I’m twice your size and give my liver regular workouts?” A good point. “You wanna pause this hot mess and go to bed?” Axel frowned. It was barely past midnight.

“You gonna be okay getting home? It’s late, and all.”

A look passed over Owen’s face, something that later, after a few aspirin and a shower, Axel would be able to identify as nerves. “I was actually thinking maybe I could...crash here? I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, promise.”

“If only all my dates were so nice.” Axel said dryly, then yelped in a very different kind of surprise. “Joking! Okay cool, goodnight!”

But again when he tried to stand, his legs refused to cooperate only this time, he fell directly into Owen’s lap, sitting sideways on his knees like some kinda princess. 

I’d like to die now please.

As though it was his default reaction to everything, Owen laughed.

“Hey hey, I’m not the kinda guy that expects multiple bases on the first date.” He was teasing him. Making fun of him. Awesome. “First base is perfectly fine. I’m honestly just happy to be up at bat.”

Or, maybe not.

“Was this a date?” Axel asked. He couldn’t rightfully tell, but his eyes felt huge. Disney-esque, even. Keep on the lookout for singing bluebirds, and shit. Owen didn’t stop grinning, though he did shake his head.

“I kinda wanted it to be like, the precursor to a date? Hang out, see if there’s more than just that ‘oh shit he’s cute’ vibe. And then my dad had to. Y’know. And it got real heavy real fast and-” Owen snapped himself out of his rambling before he got too far into it. “Anyway. Yeah. You’re cute, and you’re funny, and you’ve got good taste in music and movies. And I wanna know more about you, like what kinda toppings you like on your pizza, and where your ideal road trip destination would be, and what you look like when you get kissed senseless. But like I said,” Owen tilted his head just so, pecking a short kiss on the end of Axel’s nose. All of his freckles felt like they were glowing red-hot. “This wasn’t a date, and I like to think I’m the kinda guy that can wait until the first date to make a move.”

Oh. Oh, good lord. Oh man.

“O-Owen,” Axel started quietly, even as he felt his face get pinker and pinker. “I uh, I like black olives and sausage and extra cheese. And I wanna go to California some day, maybe check out Joshua Tree and Disneyland and LA, but hit the Grand Canyon and Vegas and Four Corners on the way there. And you uh, you already kissed me once, so like, maybe..?” He let out a nervous, helpless little giggle.

Owen snorted.

“What’s your last name?” He murmured, palms hot against Axel’s hips.

“W-Walker.” Axel stuttered, squirming when one of Owen’s thumbs found a ticklish spot on his side.

“Mine’s Mercer.” Owen replied, leaning in and pressing his lips a little too firmly against Axel’s. His scruffy little goatee was itchy, where it rubbed against his chin and lower lip.

Later, Owen would confess that he’d been trying to think of something suave and cool to say before kissing him. That he’d been worried that Axel would laugh at him, or hate the way his mouth felt, or a million other tiny anxieties that crawled through his brain whenever he got the opportunity to be with someone. Later, Axel would confess that he literally had no standards, because this was the first time he’d ever made out with anyone and if you asked him, Owen had done fine.

“Did we Netflix and chill?” Owen would ask the next morning, after they’d fallen asleep on the floor in a tangled heap of blanket and limbs and novelty pillows. And Axel would groan in return, from a combination of the intensity of his hangover, and Joey being right about something.

“Romance is dead.” He moans. And Owen would just laugh, kissing his forehead.

He disagrees.

[ymd3signs]

Best Motivation Article Ever

Hey there, are you trying to find some sweet ass motivation? Well, you're in luck, because I got the foremost awesome, most unoriginal motivational content you've seen 100 times before.

And what does one know? It happens to be 'exactly what you're within the marketplace for. So here is that the ultimate 3-step program for shaping yourself into a winner you usually knew you'll be (despite never actually doing anything to become one).

Okay, a couple of paragraphs are enough for an obligatory intro. It's, nobody reads this shit anyway. Let's dive straight into it so you'll get yourself overvalued for about 20 minutes, then return to procrastinating and reading generic self-help advice which tells you precisely what you would like to listen to. Ready? Alright, let's go.

STEP 1: YOU'RE AWESOME

Do you sometimes feel bad? Are people mean to you? Are you frightened of taking chances and doing what indeed causes you to be happy, so you regularly conform to other people's opinions to suit in? Aw shucks that sound sad.

Don't be sad. Be happy instead. Happiness is what everyone should achieve in life while avoiding stressful situations, uncomfortable emotions, and challenging obstacles. Despite what people that study the human mind and behaviour say, these aren't things that strengthen your mindset, develop quality habits, shape your personality, and cause you to a healthier individual. Some call these people scientists, some call them experts, but their real title is haters.

Important note: Criticism is some things very, very bad. It's not something you'll learn from to enhance yourself. It's not significant if 90% of individuals hate what you're doing. It's not essential if you'll do things differently and achieve a far better effect. Why?

Because you're awesome, everybody is fantastic. If you're alive, you're incredible. You don't become an extraordinary person by doing good deeds, advancing your skills and knowledge, fixing diligence, and developing yourself into a sensible, capable, and exciting individual. Heck no!

If people hate to lecture you and avoid social contact, don't think something could be wrong with you. Maybe you talk too much? Perhaps you're too judgmental? Perhaps you don't have anything important to say? Forget this stuff. Remember, you're fantastic only for being you. You don't have any bad traits. There are not any flaws in your behaviour. there's no room for improvement.

You're perfect just the way you're.

STEP 2: YOU'RE GONNA BE SUCCESSFUL

Do you have a thought for a project? Thinking of writing a book? Starting a business? YouTube channel? Blog? Choose it. I'm sure it's a singular, never-been-done-before idea. And if you think that it'd suck, don't. Your every idea is fantastic because, as we've learned, you're fantastic and criticism is terrible. If you know something from criticism, it might mean that it's not necessarily bad. And that's just crazy.

Statistics say that 9/10 startups fail which almost half they fail because there was no market need for his or her product or service. In other words, nobody was curious about their shit within the first place. But those brave souls refused to concentrate on haters and kept going. The outcome isn't relevant.

Let's pull up some statistics of our own. Spoiler alert – they're getting to blow your mind:

Walt Disney was fired because his boss felt he "lacked imagination and had no good ideas".

Oprah Winfrey was publicly fired from her first television job for getting "too emotionally invested in her stories".

Steven Spielberg was rejected by the varsity of Cinematic Arts multiple times.

Thomas Edison's teachers told him he was "too stupid to find out anything".

Jay-Z couldn't get any record label to sign him.

All these people later went on to become extremely successful and well-known in their respective fields. They didn't hear what others told them and that they didn't let the haters discourage them. They kept pushing until they achieved their dreams.

This, of course, doesn't mean that they failed many, many, repeatedly before succeeding. It doesn't mean that that they had many shit ideas before finding one that was good. It also doesn't mean they're exceptionable people that spent endless hours, months, and years perfecting their craft, thinking of latest ideas, learning and evolving from criticism (although we prefer the term hatorade) and making sacrifices for a far better future.

The only thing that we will learn from these fun facts is that they were just average, ordinary people – such as you. If they might roll in the hay, why couldn't you? If you would like it hard enough, you'll achieve success at some point (regardless of what proportion work you put in).

Why? Because you're awesome.

STEP 3: EASY SOLUTION

Now that we've gotten your blood pumping, brooding about the badass you're getting to become, making it rain within the clubs, living during a mansion, doing what you're keen on, hanging out with celebrities, having a stable (?) personality and a winner's mentality, let's mention the way to get there.

The first step is quite apparent – read articles like this a day. Otherwise, you won't have the mental strength to realize what you would like. I mean, all those successful people's vision and dedication are indeed not enough to motivate them. Merely wanting it's not enough, you would like people like us to inform you that you want it.

So here may be a general outline of our life plan:

Read motivational articles.

?????????

PROFIT!

Now, people that are successful put in thousands of hours working and learning and failing and improving and failing and perfecting and failing and hustling. That's all good for them, but let's be honest – does one want us to inform you ways to achieve something truly? That it takes years, hard work, sacrifice, and adapting new and foreign ideas?

Fuck no. We all know you're not trying to find actual change. That shit's hard. You would like the straightforward solutions, the fast methods, the "5 Steps to Gaining Respect" and "3 Ways to Become a Winner", the "How to urge the simplest Boyfriend" and "6 Best Places for Meeting DTF Chicks".

As Dom Mazzetti so eloquently put it:

“I don't want someone to compliment my life. I want someone to reassure me that my shitty life is adequate.”

And when it involves haters who attempt to offer you all the detailed, scientific-based information on how our minds work and the way to form real change:

“It's an equivalent reason I don't read books because books intimidate me and job my memory how dumb I'm. Why should I waste time getting smarter or making peace with my insecurities, once I can level the playing field and watch Digimon reruns with my [mentally challenged] cousin? That seems like a Saturday to me!”

So don't fret about the haters and experts. We're here to carry you tight, tell you you're fantastic regardless of what, which whatever path you select in life is excellent. As we've established in Step 1, you'll do nothing wrong.

Life isn't about learning from mistakes. It's about disregarding the notion of a "mistake" because you're fantastic.

STEP 4: DO NOTHING

"What's this? Step 4?" – a fanatical reader exclaims. – "But i assumed you said it had been a 3-step solution?"

Well, my avid motivation approval-seeking friend, if you're ready to read through all the shit advice we offer on a day to day without vomiting, then you've proven you'll garbage down anything we throw at you. So let's call this the "Bonus Chapter", which we included because we're just nice like that.

Some writers take time to research and copy what they say…but who the hell has time for that? I can fart out another "Top 10 Reasons You're Awesome" fluff piece in half an hour, and you'd still eat that shit up. You don't care about the standard of the content you read, so why should we?

Have you seen our "motivational content" sites? We've got like 13 different sidebars with subscription boxes, social media links, advertisements, share buttons, and every one the shit we're trying to sell you. Since actual "content" makes up about 15% of any page, I'm surprised you're even ready to find it. It's like playing "Where's Waldo?" whenever you open up a replacement post.

If you did have a winner's mentality, you'd be reading something with actual substance in it (like this or this or this). you'd be working, learning, and improving yourself, not leaving bland comments like "OMG that's so true, I do got to respect myself (because, like, I didn't know that before reading this)".

But you continue to read our unoriginal posts because we tell you what you would like to listen to. We inform you that everything about you is great, and if something happens to be a touch off-balance, you'll fix it in five easy steps. Because if you were curious about changing yourself during a meaningful way, you'd be smart enough to ascertain through our bullshit.

Because if you were fantastic, you wouldn't need us to inform you that.

(Un)Truly Yours,

Every Generic Self-Help Writer Ever

***

P.S. Apparently, tons of you don't realize this text is making fun of generic self-help bullshit. Even worse, a number of you share this thinking it's a real motivational article — probably because you didn't even read the fucking thing.

If that's you, I would like to inform you something. Reading empty motivational articles telling you exactly what you would like to listen to will never get you anywhere. Instead, I've put together a touch ebook which will teach you ways to start indeed improving your life. No bullshit, only proven methods and actions. Click here to get it (it's free).

Like this article? Please share it with somebody who might need it.

[seblaine-rph]

THE ADMIN'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY: a SEBLAINE-RPH chapter by chapter guide on building and admining a roleplay group

Chapter One - Making a Blog

So you've decided that you want to open up a roleplay of your very own. My first piece of advice is as follows; don't panic. Remember that even before the moment of conception, you aren't alone. If at any point you ever feel unsure, or would like another opinion, there are a vast number of people out there that would love to help you out. You never have to panic, no matter what the problem. Personally, I am always open to giving advice, helping with the process of building your plot/character biographies/other writing, production of graphics of any kind, theme makeovers, and the request of any other help you may need. I'm not the only one out there either, there are plenty of other RPH and other help-based blogs out there too. Most other roleplayers don’t mind giving opinions either, so you can always ask your friends.

1.) We're going to start, in this guide, with making your blog.

Some people prefer putting their main pages on sideblogs, but there are things (like submitting promos and shoutouts*) that are made more difficult by that so others prefer main blogs. Take a moment to consider what you want in this instance. There are guides out there and people you can ask if you want to do a bit of research, but in my opinion the decision comes down to one question. If you're planning on making a bigger group, something long-lasting with big needs, then you probably want to make a main blog. If you're making something simpler, something less serious (but of course still has your interest and devotion), or something smaller (like a 2x2, 3x3, or 4x4) then you could be fine with a sideblog. The only reason I've personally ever used a sideblog for a main was so that I could always be available to questions sent there within seconds, even while I was roleplaying. I had made a small group that consisted of less than a handful of characters and once I had those few roles filled, there was no further need for the main other than for organization and event announcements, so it just worked better to have it right there, attached to my character blog. If it had been on its own main blog, I may have forgotten to log in and missed questions sent to it.

*If you choose to make a sideblog, then you can use your rps/writing/personal blog to ask for shoutouts/promos. Some blogs that post those don't accept shoutouts/promos from anything but the main though, so keep that in mind. 

2.) Once you've chosen, the first thing you'll need is a url.

Remember that this doesn't have to be perfect just yet, because you can change it at any time, but if you have any ideas that you really like, it's smart to save the url immediately so that nobody else gets the same idea and snags it first. Before you forget, head into the settings for your blog and turn on your ask box, the anon feature, and your submit. There are new on-blog advertising features that you need to turn off now too. At the time that I'm writing this, there are two of them and they're listed together. There is now also a “non-chronological posts” feature that you’ll have to turn off too once it starts. Because Tumblr is finicky, it's a good idea to make your ad blog right now too, and you might as well throw up an ooc blog while you're at it. For those that have never made a roleplay before, these two blogs (ooc and ad) for your roleplay will be sideblogs. The ad blog is where you'll queue your ads so that you don't spam your main and therefore the dash. The ooc blog will be a private blog that you click the option to password protect so that your players have a little community to talk out of character with each other. This helps with plotting and keeping your players connected ooc.

In order to create a new sideblog, click the little person button (on the top right of your screen) and click +New, then write in your url and do the captcha. You'll want to make a post on your main and on your ad blog right now, so that Tumblr registers them as new blogs. You don't have to tag either post or put anything you'll actually keep in it, all you need to do is make a post because your blogs won't show up in the tags until two days after your first post. Sideblogs follow the same rule. Posting on them now allows you to hit the tags as soon as you’re ready to advertise.

3.) Now that you've got the basics set up, it's time to pick a theme.

You can ask around the RPH community, check the rp themes and rp theme tag, browse an RPH��s theme tag (here’s mine), or look through your favorite theme maker's blogs to find the perfect one for you (my original themes). 

When choosing a theme, you want to consider your group and its needs. Do you want a lot of links on your main page or would you prefer just a few links and the use of a full navigation page? Do you want a lot of room on your sidebar for a long description or will a scrollbar/a smaller space do? Also remember that if you choose to use a page with popup windows, you'll want to have mobile links up for them too.

A lot of people like to go with fansite themes, which all have a top header and side column(s) for information that make your main page look professional and streamline. There's room for a lot of information and links on some of these too. You can find fansite themes with sidebar columns that are so long that they have to scroll with the posts, but there are those that remain stationary as well. Some of them have font or navigation links as the top header, with no image, which are good for those of you that don't want to have to make a bunch of graphics for the main. 

Another go-to theme type for roleplay mains are container themes. One of the things that you have to remember with container themes is that you want people to be able to see your main page, so you want to use one that doesn't have a tiny container. I've seen themes that are so small that the posts are 150px-250px wide with a 150px height window of appearance, which forces people to use 6px font and gif icons that are 25px by 25px so that it "looks aesthetically pleasing," but that translates to "absolutely unreadable" for a good number of people. There are a lot of container themes out there, and a lot of them have really small spaces for posts. You can edit that yourself though, or ask for help from the theme maker or an RPH if your favorite theme comes with a tiny container.

4.) There is more to do once you've got a theme, now you need to customize it.

No matter what theme you use, or what type of theme, you can always edit the html to make it better suited for your needs. If you can't do it yourself, there are plenty of RPH blogs that would do it for you.

Before doing anything else, you should be sure that:

Your theme doesn't have any fonts that are below 12px. Some fonts are larger than others, but anything that you actually want people to be able to read cannot be smaller than 12px. It is relevant to mention that 16px is the standard for accessibility in font sizes, so your fonts should be closer to 16px than 12px, but any smaller than 12px is just cruel.

Your posts are 500px in width. On some themes, you can justify using as small as 400px on the post size, but no smaller. When the post size shrinks too much, it's harder to read and the font html tends to shrink too in order to compensate for the smaller space. When changing the post size, I always use cntrl+f to search for the originally used post size px, so that I can change all of the other applicable html locations (ask size, tag size, the entry div, photo set size, etc) as well.

You might have to change other things because of those two bullets. Containers might need to be edited, margins changed, etc. Those of you that want to change other aspects of their themes can do so now. Put everything on the main page where you want it. Consider this the first step in customization.

Then make your theme graphics. This is where you really start to see your roleplay becoming something specific and personalized for your plot. Use imagery that is relevant to your plot. Keep diversity in mind by choosing imagery that represents as many different types of people as possible, if you're using people in these graphics. Remember that you don't want your graphics to be too dark to see, but you also don't want them too bright to see-- and you definitely don't want to whitewash anyone. You may wish to use a PSD (<-link to psd tag) so that all of your graphics are edited the same and therefore look the same, just beware of those three problems. Almost any PSD can be edited and altered in the name of making them work properly. Again, there are RPHs that will gladly do this for you or give you advice, if you want the help.

Your theme colors should match your graphics, and can be taken directly from them if you want. I prefer to, it just makes it easier to ensure my graphics match my theme. It also helps to choose a lighter or darker variation of the color on the graphics that still matches, when you don’t want to use the exact same colors.

When choosing colors for your main blog, make sure that everything is still accessible. You want to make sure everything matches and looks aesthetically pleasing, but aesthetic means nothing if you can't read your blog. For instance, if your background is dark, the font you put on top of it should be light. If your background is light, the font you put on top of it should be dark. If you have a bright pink background and a bright yellow font, it is very likely that it will be completely impossible for anyone to read. Accessibility is not just important for those that have a difficult time seeing, but for you as well; if people can't read your blog, they won't stay on it long enough to give your group a chance.

5.) Your theme basics are done, now fill out your rpg information.

I'm going to do a whole new admin guide for this, so it won't be as detailed as it could be. I will link that guide as soon as I finish it.

Know your rpg and what you need on your page. Different groups require differen't information. For instance, if you're a supernatural group, you may want to at least link to information on all of the different species involved in your group. If you're not running a supernatural group, that's obviously not necessary.

As far as the basics go:

You'll need a sidebar description, something catchy that draws people in and makes them want to read more. Make sure it gives a clear reading on what your rp is about.

You'll need clear navigation. Most groups have a navigation page, but you also want to make use of your navigation buttons. All themes have a different number of them, make use of them with the most important links for your group. Remember that if you have popups on your theme, you're going to want to have mobile links up for that material too.

You'll need a clear set of rules. Most of these are the same thing written over and over again, so really consider your group and what is important to you as an admin to make sure yours are as unique as possible. If you have any requirements, this is where to put them. Age restrictions, instructions for nsfw or mature content, activity limits, dash rules, and ooc stuff all goes here. The point of a rules page is that you want to be able to say, "you knew this was expected of you" if any problems arise. And you can add to this! If you start up your rp and someone does something you absolutely do not want to see in your rp again, feel free to make an amendment and add it to your rules.

You'll need to consider what other information you need on your blog as well. Some rpgs require applications, others are appless. Some need to have their plot explained further, others can cover it in the sidebar. Whatever your needs, make sure everything is clear, not too long-winded (people will tune out if they aren't engaged), linked clearly for ease of navigation, and double checked for proper spelling and grammar.

6.) So you think you’re done, now get a second opinion.

At this point, you can tell that your blog is done and ready for information to be put on it. It looks pretty, it has graphics on it, all of the information you want it on your blog, and you're certain that you can read it.

Double check that last statement. You can ask a friend or you can ask an rph, but now would be a good time to make sure that everything is accessible. You want to make sure that your theme is the right theme. You want to make sure that you've got a good font and font size, for both your page html and your graphics. You want to make sure that your information is clear and concise as well as attention-grabbing.  It's really easy to miss out on stuff, and we all have different screen sizes, so it's really important to get a second opinion.

I do theme reviews and opinions on rpgs as a whole, but you can go to almost any rph for the same service or simply ask your friends for their opinions.

[junker-town]

The NBA’s 10 best games of the 2010s

Ray Allen’s greatest moment.

From the Cavs’ incredible Game 7 win over the Warriors to Ray Allen’s championship-clinching shot for the Heat, these are the NBA’s best games of the last decade.

As a follow up to last week’s article about the top 10 most entertaining games from the 2019-20 season — as ranked with an algorithm created by Thuuz Sports — here’s a look at the 10 most entertaining games of the entire decade. Enjoy.

10) Houston Rockets 98, Portland Trail Blazers 99: May 1, 2014

Any game that forever freezes you to where you were when you watched it is special. Few can do it. Most leave a hazy aftertaste, where you think you remember where you were, who you were with, what you were eating, and whether it was raining outside. But in reality it’s just fog.

For those who witnessed it live, Damian Lillard’s series-ending moon shot against the Houston Rockets was the rare sporting event that obliterated all five senses and momentarily stopped time.

It’s a fun series to reminisce about. At the time, I was recapping games for ESPN’s TrueHoop blog, Red94, and vividly remember the immortal release point on LaMarcus Aldridge’s baseline turnaround that made Dwight Howard and Omer Asik (remember him?) look so helpless, as well as how confident and smooth Chandler Parsons, Jeremy Lin, and Wesley Matthews moved around the court before injuries ruined them.

Anyway, Lillard didn’t want to put the end of Game 6 in his hands — he needed to. In his mind, no other options ever existed. Before the play begins, Lillard is a panther in tall grass. The second Nicolas Batum gets handed the ball on the opposite sideline, he cannonballs up, claps his hands with enough force to let everyone in the building know “this is not a drill” (the play was originally designed for LaMarcus Aldridge), catches the pass, rotates his shoulders, then drops the curtain.

9) Memphis Grizzlies 117, San Antonio Spurs 116: Dec. 17, 2014

This game went into triple overtime, but the end of regulation is the best part. A flurry of game-tying threes in the last seven seconds, capped off by Marc Gasol stepping through Manu Ginobili’s blanket coverage to bank in a prayer as the buzzer sounded. It was the most improbable big shot of the decade ... until Tim Duncan one-upped him at the end of the second overtime with a one-dribble fadeaway over Gasol’s fingertips that ricocheted off the backboard, twirling around the rim, and somehow dropped in.

8) Oklahoma City Thunder 119, Toronto Raptors 118: Mar. 20, 2014

This was the only game on this list that was unrecognizable solely from the date and two teams. But when viewed through the prism of Kevin Durant, at or near his lanky overlord peak, it becomes a recovered artifact.

Let’s start at the end. The Thunder were down by eight with 48 seconds left in double overtime when Durant wiggled free for an open three.

About 45 seconds later he stuck another one, this time from the left wing, drifting towards the sideline with a hand in his face to give the Thunder a one-point lead. By his side? Jeremy Lamb, Reggie Jackson, and Derek Fisher.

This was Durant at his most lethal, near the end of a 41-game streak in which he never scored fewer than 25 points (the third-longest in NBA history). If he were a character in a novel, the editor would ask the writer to turn down the volume. Durant is too absurd for real life, let alone someone’s imagination.

7) Oklahoma City Thunder 133, Memphis Grizzlies 123: May 9, 2011

A few months ago my wife and I were eating dinner at a restaurant that had a massive projector screen behind the bar. On it, for no discernable reason, was this game. When I asked our waiter why it was on, he looked at me like I had two eyes. “Dude, that game was incredible.”

He’s not wrong. It was a pivotal Game 4 that went into triple overtime. What a blessing.

6) Cleveland Cavaliers 93, Golden State Warriors 89: June 19, 2016

Pretty much since it happened, the last few minutes of this game have rattled around my head like a flawed, inescapable pop song. I’ve watched, discussed and thought about them thousands of times. Over and over. They’re some of basketball’s most historic moments, clustered together in one messy crescendo that then led to Draymond Green’s parking lot phone call which sent a wrecking ball through competitive balance’s front window.

The weeks that followed this game felt like a fever dream. Live, the immense weight of it all just sort of sat on your chest. It’s impossible to process consequential sports history in real time; simply watching it yields indescribable emotions. Breathing is not easy. If my phone rang I didn’t hear it.

Very few games, if any before it, have ever prompted the number of nicknames this one did: The Block, The Stop, The Shot. There’s no shorthand for greatness, and most of these moments elude language. But context isn’t even necessary for another NBA fan to know what you’re talking about when one gets mentioned. All were epic feats of athletic dynamism — or tragic misadventures, depending on your perspective — that will live on forever.

(Sidebar: The most underrated sequence came right after Love somehow hung on for dear life in front of Curry at the top of the key, when Kyrie Irving channeled his inner Icarus. With 30 seconds left and a three-point lead, Irving raced the length of the court and nearly dribbled the ball out of bounds. The obvious play was to sit tight and burn clock. Was he bored? Did he want to be the hero, after already hitting the heroic shot? Did he completely forget that it was Game 7 of the NBA Finals? Has anyone ever asked Irving about that play?)

There is a whiff of “I mean, somebody had to win” syndrome when you re-watch the end of this game. The players were exhausted. The offense was stilted and formulaic. Both teams knew each other too well. Grace was gone. All that might be true, but sports aren’t scripted. It’s what makes them so compelling. And even after beauty gets stripped from the play-by-play, there’s no denying this game’s pantheon position.

5) Golden State Warriors 121, Oklahoma City Thunder 118: Feb. 27, 2016

This game was an asteroid colliding with Earth. When Curry hit the biggest shot of his career — an overtime game-winner from about 32 feet — it opened so many eyes to a revolution in real time. Everyone who watched it remembers where they were. (What they probably don’t remember is that OKC had the led for 51 minutes.)

This game was important. And if judged solely on excitement, it’s an all-timer.

4) Denver Nuggets 116, Portland Trail Blazers 112: May 5, 2019

By my calculations, every single shot in this fourth quarter went in, which is pretty good. It was Game 4, a must-win for the Nuggets, and the peak of Jamal Murray’s career.

Murry finished with 34 points and went 11-for-11 at the free-throw line, about 48 hours after he played 55 minutes in Game 3.

3) San Antonio Spurs 129, Golden State Warriors 127: May 6, 2013

The Spurs won this game and this series — Manu forever! — but this was the Warriors’ point of origin, a double-overtime adrenaline rush that reset expectations for Curry and Klay Thompson. (At the time, Draymond was still coming off the bench.)

It’s hard not to call this one of the most pivotal games of the century. It changed everything.

2) Cleveland Cavaliers 109, Golden State Warriors 108: Dec. 25, 2016

This game featured the second-most-impressive shot of Irving’s career, an operatic mid-post turnaround over Thompson’s near-perfect contest that gave Cleveland a one-point lead with three seconds to go.

The basketball in this one was objectively more thrilling than what we saw in Game 7 the previous season, but it’s still kind of weird to see it this high.

1) Miami Heat 103, San Antonio Spurs 100: June 18, 2013

I mean, were you expecting anything else?

Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals had it all. And by “it all” I mean one of the most cinematic climaxes in basketball history. Few plays are deserving of their own oral history. This was, from Gregg Popovich’s decision to pull Tim Duncan off the floor to Chris Bosh and Ray Allen having the split-second wherewithal to grab, twirl, and hopscotch behind the three-point line for a shot that changed the course of history.

If you’ve seen it once you’ve seen it one thousand times. It was pure shell shock, a picturesque work of art that perhaps no other player could have pulled off.

Spurs fans would rather chug vinegar than watch that final minute ever again. But low moments make the highs taste that much sweeter. There is no progress without struggle, etc. And you didn’t need to care about the teams in the game to drown in your own flop sweat as it neared conclusion.

Only a few games are powerful enough to make your body react involuntarily. This one did.

[caranfindel]

Episode recap/review 12.19: "The Future"

THEN: Oh, goody. It’s going to be a mytharc episode.

NOW: Sad, dirty Kelly Kline is being force-fed vitamins by Dagon. Dagon reminds her again that she’s going to die when the Lucifetus is born, and I wonder again why she would have showed her hand like that. She had Kelly right where she wanted her; a willing, compliant, trusting incubator. Why did she throw that away? She nags Kelly into taking a bath, in the saddest bathroom ever, complete with broken mirror. Kelly fills the rusty tub with a garden hose, apologizes to her unborn baby, takes a shard of the broken mirror, and slits her wrist.

Title card!

We have a lovely montage of Sam in the bunker, in full-blown research mode, looking through books and writing arcane markings on the map room table and just looking absolutely fantastic. He’s wearing a black button-up shirt with no apparent t-shirt underneath, and he’s extra scruffy. Not “The Born Again Identity” levels of scruffy, but scruffier than we normally see him, and it’s marvelous. I don’t know if it’s supposed to indicate something wrong, some level of obsession or lack of self care, but daaaaaamn. It’s fantastic.

The future looks fucking awesome, my friends.

Dean shows up, equally dark, also a bit scruffy (thank you baby Jesus) and is impressed by Sam’s work. Since he hasn’t seen any of it, either he’s been away, or Sam did all of this overnight. I’m going with B. He calls Sam “Beautiful Mind,” which I believe last happened when Sam was first having halluciferinations, and I know there’s no reason to assume this episode’s writer is actually aware of that. It’s probably a coincidence. But in a season full of callouts to earlier (better) days, it makes me wonder.

Sam’s been figuring out when the Lucifetus will be born, which doesn’t explain the symbols written all over the table, but that’s okay. We will deal. It does explain why we saw him circling the number 18, because he’s predicted the nephilim is due on May 18, which is coincidentally the day of the season finale.

(Sidebar: I’ve complained before about Entertainment Weekly ignoring SPN when they have roundups of the best shows to watch this week, season premieres, season finales, etc. This week’s EW actually did have a blurb about the SPN season finale. And I couldn’t read it because spoilers. File this under “be careful what you wish for.” Or maybe under “seriously, she’s never satisfied.”)

Dean comments that everything bad seems to happen in May (no, he really doesn’t, but don’t you think they should have noticed a pattern by now, and here is an excellent Tumblr post relating to that) and that this gives them less than a month to find Kelly. And they don’t know what to do with her once they do find her.

How am I supposed to care about a nephilim that will destroy all humanity when I’ve got this distracting scenario to contend with?

They’re interrupted by the sound of the bunker door opening. It’s Cas!

Can we have more of these interesting things happening above Dean’s head? And can Sam notice them too, please?

Sam is happy and surprised and asks where he’s been, and Dean is stunned and angry (and hot) and asks where the hell he’s been. He’s not impressed by Cas’s explanation that he had no bars in Heaven. Sam is still kind and welcoming, telling Cas “we’re glad you’re back” (because he’s Sam Winchester) and Dean is too hurt and angry at being abandoned to express any happiness or relief at all (because he’s Dean Winchester) and instead bitches at Cas about the fact that they lost Dagon and Kelly without backup. He stomps off, and they each fall into their assigned roles: Angry Dean, Guilty Cas, Conciliatory Sam.

Not that I’m complaining.

And if you want a case of the sads, watch Sam’s face fall as Dean stomps all over his happiness at Cas’s safe return.

Some time later (presumably, since Dean rubs his shoulder as if he’s been sitting at the computer for a while) Cas shows up at Dean’s bedroom and gives him back his mixtape. For the love of God.

Scenes from the Writers’ Room

I know Destiel is never gonna be canon.

Right.

And YOU know Destiel is never gonna be canon.

Right.

But it IS fun to get them all worked up, isn’t it?

Yes. Yes it is. What are we going to do this week? Old-married-couple-style squabbling? Declarations of love that turn out to be platonic and directed at all three Winchesters?

Nah, we’ve done those this season. I’ve got something better. Look at this.

Oh, God. You’re evil.

So Cas puts “Dean’s Top 13 Zeppelin Traxx” on the desk. Without looking at him, Dean hands it back and says “it’s a gift; you keep those.” Dean explains that they were worried while he was gone, and that’s not okay. Cas apologizes some more and says that all he does is fail, and he’s tired of failing. He says that “when you were taken, I searched for months,” which is odd, because they were only gone for six weeks, but maybe he kept looking after they were found, I don’t know, and he feels guilty about Kelly escaping on his watch and he just didn’t want to come back without a win. For you. (Oddly enough, he doesn’t apologize for letting Lucifer out of the cage, which seems like his biggest sin IMHO.)

Dean would rather talk about his own failures (because he’s Dean Winchester) and he says they had Kelly and lost her. Cas asks what they’ll do when they find her, and Dean says Sam’s working on it, and he’s hell-bent (no pun intended?) on finding a solution that doesn’t require killing Kelly or the baby. Cas asks if either of the Winchester’s could “kill an innocent” if Sam doesn’t find that solution. “We will find a better way,” says Dean. Translation: No, we will not kill an innocent. Because they’ve never been in that position before. Nope. Cas notes the use of the word “we” and ponders if that includes him, and Dean says “Yes, dumbass. We. You, me, and Sam. We’re just better together. So now that you’re back, let’s go Team Free Will.” Another shout-out! When did we last hear “Team Free Will?” Was it ever used again after that one episode in S5?

Dean doesn’t actually look very happy about Team Free Will assembling again.

Dean stalks off to get a beer and Cas stands in the doorway, looking around Dean’s room with a kind of suspicious expression.

Back at Casa Dagon, the demon stomps downstairs and finds a bathtub full of bloody water. But no dead Kelly Kline inside. She spots Kelly in the corner, wrapped in a towel, with blood on her wrists but no wounds. “He wouldn’t let me die,” Kelly says, with a blessed-out look on her face. Since Show keeps reminding me about S5, I immediately assume Lucifer is the one who kept her alive, just as he promised to keep Sam alive.

In the bunker, Dean finds Sam still working, and tells him to get some sleep. (If Sam worked all night figuring out Kelly’s due date, he must have been up all day and this is night two?) But Sam’s on a roll.

Sam’s also got his feet up and it’s fucking glorious.

Maybe they’re going about this all wrong, he says. They can’t track Dagon, but maybe they can track the Lucifetus. And then this lovely, lovely scene goes straight to Hell.

”Remember Gadreel?” Sam asks. Except he pronounces it GADreel, or even GADriel.

”How could I ever forget?” says Dean. “The angel I tricked you into serving as a vessel for. The angel who killed Kevin. The angel who indirectly led to me getting the Mark of Cain, which resulted in me coming damn close to killing you. Twice. The angel Crowley had to possess you in order to eject. I still have nightmares about all of that. I’d do anything to undo all of the damage I caused. Yes, I remember Gadreel.”

Oh, no, wait. He doesn’t say any of that at all. He says “The psycho angel that took your body for a test drive? Yeah, what about him?” As if he had nothing to do with it. As if it was just something weird that happened to Sam, that he happened to remember. What the fuck, show. (Also, Dean pronounces it GADriel too. So maybe they’re not talking about Gadreel at all. Maybe this is some other angel who took Sam for a spin. Some angel I’ve forgotten.)

Oh well. Carrying on.

(Seriously. What the fucking fuck, Show.)

Shhh. Don’t think about it. Just mute the sound and enjoy the pretty.

Sam reminds Dean that he and Cas were working on a spell to find this mysterious GADriel, and Dean reminds Sam that they needed Gadriel’s grace and Cas couldn’t get enough of it. Although I don’t know how Dean knows this, since he wasn’t there when any of it happened. I guess Sam and/or Cas told him about it later, as they tend to do (ha ha ha I crack myself up). And then Sam is all, wait, the grace extraction! We can just extract Lucifer’s grace from the Lucifetus, because a nephilim is just a human soul with angelic grace (is it? did we know that?) so if they just extract the grace from the baby, it will no longer be a nephilim and Kelly won’t have to die.

Now, when Sam says Kelly won’t have to die, I assume he means they were planning on killing her, if necessary, to prevent the Lucifetus from being born. I don’t think he means they’d extract the grace like some kind of supernatural amniocentesis and this plan would prevent her heretofore unavoidable death after giving birth. Because I don’t think he knows about that part of it. After all, Cas didn’t know the mother of a nephilim never survives the birth, so how would Sam have known? I can only assume he plans to have Cas extract the grace after the baby is born. And that leads to some uncomfortable issues if it doesn’t work. But Dean is convinced this is the answer and Sam is happy and proud of himself and aw, boys, I just want this for you. (What did I say earlier about being careful what you wish for?) Dean leaves to get Cas and finds his room empty. And there’s sad music playing, so we know he’s not just in the bathroom. (Also the fact that he’s an angel, but if God takes long showers, there’s no reason an angel couldn’t. Just saying.)

Cut to Kelly and Dagon, who have already long outworn their welcome on my screen. Dagon can’t imagine why Kelly doesn’t want to be the not-quite-virgin Mary giving birth to evil Jesus, but Kelly says her baby isn’t evil, because he saved her. Oh, it was the baby, and not Lucifer? That’s disappointing. Dagon says he saved himself, not Kelly, and she’s still going to die when he’s born. And Dagon will raise him. By the way, Kelly’s little bloodbath not only cleaned her up, but it freshened her makeup, hair, and clothes too. Oh, Lucifetus. What can’t you do?

Now we see Cas in his old truck, meeting Hot Angel Kelvin to give him… The Colt? Oh, no, Cas. Bad angel. He tells him there are only two bullets in the chamber, but that’s okay, because they only need one for Dagon and one for Evil Jesus’s incubator. Kelvin explains that Joshua tracked a “celestial pulse” to a house nearby. Cas’s phone rings, and it’s Dean, who’s calling for at least the third time. If I were Cas, I’d have silenced my phone by now. Kelvin praises him for following Joshua’s plan and putting angelkind above the Winchesters and Cas is all, I’m doing this for the Winchesters, because Sam is nice to me and Dean made me a mix tape and I want to keep them safe from Dagon, and kill the girl so they don’t have to do it.

Surprisingly enough, Cas doesn’t manage kill either Dagon or the girl (shocking, I know). Cas wastes a bullet, Dagon kills an angel, and Cas is unable to shoot Kelly after all, and flees with her instead. And that worked out so well last time.

In the bunker, Sam is calling Cas and getting no response, and wondering how he got the Colt out of the safe in the first place. Dean somewhat sheepishly admits it was under his pillow.

Dean Winchester has some regrets.

Dean’s ready to “kick his feathered ass,” and actually slides the angel blade into his bag. Okay, he’s probably planning to use it on a demon, but it’s still an interesting juxtaposition. Sam says Cas wouldn’t have taken the Colt unless he was up against something big, because he’s Sam Winchester. So Dean decides they’ll save him and then kick his feathered ass.

Now we’re in Cas’s old truck, which reminds me that I miss the Pimpmobile. Kelly has astutely noted that he came to kill her, but didn’t. Cas considers himself a failure again, and says he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just trying to put distance between Kelly and Dagon. Because it’s not like demons can teleport or anything.

Speaking of Dagon, she’s communicating with Lucifer, lying that everything is fine, but he knows she’s lying and gets marvelously angry. “So you let the Winchesters’ purse dog take my son?” Mmm. Gotta like some angry Lucifer, and when he blows up at Dagon, it’s hard not to imagine him blowing up at Sam in the cage. Lucky for her, Dagon has Hot Angel Kelvin chained up, so he’ll probably help.

Cas and Kelly made it to a hotel, where we see Cas on a cell phone “communicating with Joshua.” Is that the only way angels can communicate now? Because I’m pretty sure they used angel radio earlier in the season. Cas has been ordered to take Kelly to Heaven, where her life and the Lucifetus’s life will end, “swift and painless.” He tells her “your souls will ascend to Heaven, and every cell of your beings will return to the universe,” and considering that just yesterday she slit her wrists In a rusty bathtub, this doesn’t seem like such a bad end to me. He apologizes, and tells her it’s necessary because her child will be too powerful and “could bring the universe to its knees.” But Kelly believes her baby won’t be born evil, and Cas says “I can’t take that chance.” And I wish he had simply said “no, it’s a known fact that your baby will be born evil; there’s no other option.” Because that’s the assumption he’s been working on all along, and admitting that it’s not 100% kind of comes out of nowhere. (Unless I haven’t been paying attention because I’m not really into this particular plot? Perhaps.) Unfortunately, the crappy old truck won’t start (I bet the Pimpmobile would have started).

Meanwhile, Dagon is hard at work encouraging Hot Angel Kelvin to help. He says he doesn’t know where Cas is, and I’m surprised it doesn’t occur to anyone that he might take Kelly to the bunker.

Cas and Kelly have checked into the hotel, where he expects her to hang out while he fixes the truck and drives her to her death. At least this time he doesn’t let her disappear into the bathroom. Chances are they’re going to be there a while, since he’s googling websummoning “How to fix a truck.” (Also, I find Websummon an amusing name for a search engine.) Kelly tells him that she killed herself and the Lucifetus saved her, and he realizes that was the “celestial pulse” felt in Heaven. She’s sure her baby is good, even though Cas says the same thing Dagon did - the baby needs her alive. Kelly thinks that maybe everything she’s gone through is some sort of plan, and Cas knows differently. He tells her he used to think he had a mission, but now he knows otherwise. There’s no plan; Lucifer is just sowing destruction for the hell of it (ha ha) and she just happened to be there. She still thinks her baby could be good for this world, because she just doesn’t get it, and Cas tells her she won’t survive the birth, so even if her baby is good, and isn’t inevitably evil, who will take care of him and keep him on the righteous path?

Oh. Wait. Cas knows Kelly will die? He knows the mother of a nephilim doesn’t survive the birth? So he knew, just a few episodes ago, that Lily Sunder couldn’t possibly be the mother of a nephilim, and therefore he knew Naughty Angel Isham was lying? Because I swear it seems Iike that episode went in a different direction. How odd.

And then Kelly lets Cas feel the baby kick and he is lost in wonder at the miracle of life and then her eyes glow amber and he has a vision of telling someone to stay away from her at the stairway to Heaven. Well. That was unexpected. I thought it was going to be a mushy oh wow there’s a real live baby in there and Cas would suddenly be unable to end it, and I’m glad they didn’t go that direction.

Then there’s a knock on the door, and of course it’s Sam and Dean, and my joy is somewhat measured because Sam’s wearing that godawful orange coat again.

I hope someone manages to burn this coat before the end of the season.

Dean angrily slams Cas against a wall until Sam points out that he has Kelly. Cas wonders how they found him, and Dean says Sam put a tracking app on his phone. And I guess that makes sense, that after he was missing for a few weeks, they’d be more interested in keeping up with his whereabouts, but it’s not like it would have worked when he was in Heaven, so I’m going to call it a little too convenient and then get on with my life. Oh, wait, Sam says Cas wouldn’t look them in the eye, so his suspicion makes more sense.

Cas updates them on his progress, or lack thereof, and says he was trying to keep them safe by keeping them out of it. Not your job, Dean responds, and when have we ever been safe anyway? Which is funny because Dean has done this very thing to others (and by others I mean Sam). When the Winchesters learn of Cas’s plan to take Kelly and the Lucifetus to Heaven, Sam explains his idea about extracting the nephilim’s grace. Cas seems to think it could work, but the only reason it didn’t kill Sam is because they didn’t finish. But it beats the hell out of certain death, Dean says, because now Dean also knows Kelly can’t survive the nephilim’s birth? Whatever. Kelly doesn’t agree, because extracting his grace takes away the thing that makes him special. Cas agrees to take Kelly back to the bunker and work out a new plan, and he escorts her to the Impala. Since the car is locked, Dean tosses the keys to Cas. Cas helps Kelly into the front passenger seat and then sits in the back, tossing the keys into the driver’s seat. Kelly decides to take matters into her own hands, and as Sam and Dean “discuss” the situation in the parking lot, she slides into the driver’s seat and takes off.

Kelly now believes that Cas is part of the plan. When he put his hand on her stomach, the baby told her to go to the stairway to Heaven and follow Cas’s plan. She doesn’t want Sam and Dean to take away his special Lucifetus powers, and why Kelly keeps missing the Lucifer part of this is beyond me. Cas is disturbed to find out he’s the one who’s supposed to care for the nephilim, and oddly, it’s not because the child is Lucifer’s baby, it’s because Cas considers himself a failure and not capable of taking care of the baby. So he might… accidentally kill the baby he’s trying to kill? Kelly refers to her previous self as a “cut-rate political flack” and I don’t really know what a flack is. Does she mean hack? (Yes, she was such a bad hack that she didn’t even know the word is hack.) But if a failure like her can create something as wondrous as the Lucifetus, so can Cas!

Cut to Dean fixing Cas’s crappy old truck. Which makes perfect sense. We know the Winchesters are morally opposed to stealing cars, even if it’s the only way to catch up to someone who is about to do something really, really stupid and possibly universe-ending. The only thing to do is fix Cas’s truck and follow him in it.

But Mechanic!Dean is always a welcome treat, so okay.

Nighttime. Cas and Kelly approach the Heavenly Sandbox and are greeted by… No. No, this is not Joshua. Joshua was that sweet, gentle, older guy we saw in “Dark Side of the Moon.” This twerp is not Joshua. What’s wrong, Show; you think we can’t handle two black angels in the same episode? Anyway. Crappy!Joshua greets Cas and Kelly and is suddenly zapped by Dagon, who talks for a long time because we needed to hear whatever’s going on in Dagon’s head. This episode has really been light on Winchesters.

Luckily, just as she’s about to smite him, the Winchesters pull up. It must have taken about 10 minutes to fix Cas’s truck. Sam shoots her with a regular gun and does some badass reloading, then gets tossed aside while Dean shows up with the Colt. Unfortunately, Dagon wrests the Colt from Dean’s grip and melts it down with her evil demon grip. Which is sad, but I was concerned about it being a deus ex machina for every future monster, so I’m not gonna complain that much.

Cas tells Kelly to run, which she should have done as soon as Dagon showed up, rather than standing there with her mouth open. But I wanted to see the Winchesters on the ground too, so I can’t blame her for hanging around.

Mmmm. It was worth it.

Kelly takes Cas’s hand and her eyes glow amber again, and then we see fiery veins of power make their way from her hand to Cas’s, and up to his face. His eyes glow angel blue and then amber, and as Dagon rears back to smite him, he grabs her arm and stops her with the might power of the Lucifetus. “Call it a miracle,” he says, and she bursts into flame. Sadly, Sam’s coat is not involved in the conflagration.

Astonished Winchesters, so pretty.

Aftermath! Sam and Dean tentatively approach Cas and ask “what was that?” “It was me,” he says, “but it was also…” Significant look at Kelly’s belly. He heals Dean’s injured arm, and there’s kind of a sense of wonder, as if he hasn’t been able to do that lately. But we know he’s had healing powers this season, so I don’t know.

Whatever. Look at the pretty pictures. Look at how tiny Cas is.

He thanks them for coming to the rescue, tells them he’s not lost any more, says that the child must be born with all of his power, and gently boops them on their foreheads. It’s a little reminiscent of Godstiel. Cas and Kelly leave the Winchesters sprawled on the ground, unconscious, which is probably perfectly safe. Kelly asks what the baby told him, and Cas says “He didn’t tell me; he showed me. The future.”

So. Is Cas under Lucifer’s influence? Or is the baby actually capable of good? What do you think about all of this? And whether or not the plot was worthwhile, wasn’t it awfully pretty? And directed by Amanda Tapping, who played Naomi! Once again, Naomi is telling Cas what to do. ;-)

Help me stay unspoiled for future episodes; thanks!

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Making Their Guards “Look Like Hall of Famers” – Observations from Nets 127, Sixers 124

I wouldn’t pin last night’s loss on any one thing specifically.

Start with the fact that the absences of Jimmy Butler and Mike Muscala forced Brett Brown into playing what essentially amounted to a seven-man rotation, with T.J. McConnell and Landry Shamet receiving 29 and 20 minutes, respectively.

That’s one thing.

Then you could go free-throw shooting, where the Sixers only hit at 75% on 16 trips to the line while Brooklyn shot 86% on 43 attempts. You can say that number might be bloated due to the late 4th quarter scramble, but it was lopsided well before then, with the Sixers still in single digit free throw attempts midway through the final period.

After that, you can look at Joel Embiid, who had 23 points on 10-15 shooting going into halftime, but put up only three more field goals in the second half.

You could make a note of JJ Redick’s 1-7 mark from three point range. Maybe jot down 17 turnovers in your notebook.

You could also spend some time talking about Brooklyn’s efficiency from the perimeter and about the constant struggles the Sixers have with this team.

Brown and his players touched on almost all of those subjects after the game, but before I go quote-heavy, I want to start with the two fourth quarter sequences that essentially put this one to bed.

Entering the post

Yes, the Sixers only lost by three and put forth a furious late run to cut into the lead, but I think the true killer was the pair of possessions where they tried to feed Ben Simmons in the post but turned the ball over instead.

It was late in the fourth quarter. The Sixers came out of a timeout down by eight, and this was their first possession:

Sorry for the hitch in the video. You never know what you’re gonna get with the NBC Sports stream.

Here’s the second clip after a defensive stop:

They went for the same thing with the same result, blowing two consecutive possessions and surrendering a bucket at the other end to go down by 10 without two minutes left on the clock.

I felt like that was the game right there, the moment where I said to myself, “they’re not gonna win this one.” Brett Brown seemed to suggest the same:

You’re trying to get Ben the ball, and we run action off Ben as sort of a post passer. Ben felt like he had the guy buried. In the light of day, we’ll go back and see that. I wished he’d stepped off that block and run what we were looking for. But Ben gets people deep. You can see what he’s thinking. But to me, I thought that almost was the game during that sequence.

It looks like they had Joel Embiid and Wilson Chandler screening for Redick away from the ball there, a little pin down or pin away. If you get that entry pass in clean to Simmons, Korkmaz can clear out and Redick should have a pretty open look on the perimeter. Or, if Ben gets Rodions Kurucs underneath the basket, he can just put up the shot himself. You see that in the second clip, that burial, so to speak, but Kurucs does a nice job of coming back around to tip the ball away.

I asked Furkan after the game about those two plays, and instead of brushing through it, he gave what I thought was an interesting and honest answer.

Korkmaz:

After the game, right away when I came to the locker room, I wanted to watch the possessions because I think those two possessions were the game. I feel like I could throw a better pass, tougher pass, sometimes that happens. I think I need to work on it. Sometimes you lose your focus on the game, maybe I could throw a better pass, I could communicate well, maybe I need to take more time, I don’t know. I will watch the game again and again because I don’t want to do that again. I feel like I did my job today, but those two turnovers are hurting me right now, I don’t feel good about it. Today I was feeling guilty. I could throw a better pass.

That’s a good quote. That’s a young guy taking ownership and showing that he gives a shit, which you don’t always get from athletes in his position.

Sarah Todd at the Inquirer asked a good follow-up question: does he always watch post-game film if something is sticking in his mind?

Not really right after the game, just usually at home I’m watching it. Today I just wanted to watch right away because I was feeling guilty, you know? I can throw a better pass, that’s why I wanted to watch right away.

Joel Embiid was sitting alongside Korkmaz during the two-man post-game presser, and he chimed in at the end, unprovoked, to offer this about his teammate:

“By the way, he’s been doing a great job. It’s such a tough situation for him and he’s stepped up when given the opportunity. He’s been helping us a lot.”

That’s cool for Joel to say that. It doesn’t seem like much at all, but that shows leadership quality when you step up and say something about a teammate who was obviously down in the dumps after committing a couple of bad turnovers in a key spot.

Speaking of Joel, we asked both he and Brown about why he didn’t shoot more in the second half.

Here’s Brett’s explanation:

I think if you look at them double-teaming the post, I think if you look at them fronting the post, I think if you look at him passing out of the post when they did double team – he had six assists, then that has a chance to reduce his shot attempts. I think they did a good job of making him pass. We’ll go back and look at that, but I think it’s more that than us forgetting about Joel Embiid.

Embiid did take 13 of his 18 shots inside the paint, so it wasn’t about shot selection or perimeter presence. He just didn’t shoot the ball much in the second half at all.

For what it’s worth, Embiid himself kind of pushed back on the double-team idea:

That was pretty soft, the doubles. That’s actually good because I’m not selfish, I’m a willing passer in those situations. I felt like tonight I tried to do a better job passing out of double teams, whenever they double, but I don’t think that should ever take away the way the offense is ran.

Yeah. I get all of that. You take what the defense gives you. It’s not dissimilar from football. If they’re going to double and dig and throw a second defender late, Embiid is more than capable of passing out of it. Your perimeter shooters hit a couple of shots and then the opponent rethinks the defensive strategy. Still, I don’t know how it’s possible for Embiid to shoot 15 shots in the first half and only 3 in the second half. That might be a good sidebar story for today.

The biggest problem created as a result of Embiid not shooting the ball was that the Sixers barely got to the foul line last night. There was a point in this game where the Nets had a 29 to 6 advantage in free throw attempts, which is travesty of a mockery of a sham.

Here’s Brett’s explanation for that:

I think when you look at who we have, really Ben and Joel are going to be probably the only ones who shoot free throws when you look at our personnel that we’re left with. If we start there, the opportunity to maybe catch up with other people getting fouled a lot, because that’s their style of play, that wasn’t available to us. I think when you look at [Spencer] Dinwiddie just trying to guard him, some of the abundance of free throws, is a result of how we whack them at the end of the game, but I think the discrepancies start sort of for those reasons.

It was, sure, but the disparity was there waaaaaay before the fourth quarter hackfest.

Brett isn’t wrong, however, when he talks about the personnel being an issue. Ben Simmons had to go down and play in the front court last night, so when he’s playing the four or five he’s not aggressive Ben driving to the rim from the point guard position. If Embiid is being double-teamed and passing out of the post instead, he’s not drawing fouls. Korkmaz and Chandler and Redick and Shamet are hovering around the perimeter, so they aren’t getting to the bucket either.

This was a thin lineup featuring one healthy power forward and not much behind him, but when the other team is in the penalty you’ve just got to find better ways to get Embiid going and get him on the line. He had nine November games featuring double-digit trips to the foul line, but that’s happened only once in December.

It’s no coincidence that the Sixers have lost three of their five worst games in this department:

Look at those two wins. They shot lights out from three to make up for getting little time at the foul line, and last night the story just was not the same. You can’t shoot 43% from three to make up for a 12-16 foul shooting number.

Final word to Brett Brown on why his team lost:

I think that some of it was bad defense, some of it was let down schematically, some of our good shooters still getting off shots, I think it’s a hybrid of them making some shots, us being a C- at times with our aggression and maybe a C schematically trying to execute a game with their individual players. I would put some blame proportionally all over the place.

More or less. It wasn’t one of his best nights either. And I honestly wouldn’t spend too much time talking about perimeter defense. Butler and Simmons on the perimeter together changes a lot of that, and the personnel just was what it was last night. Brooklyn has good guards. You have to figure it out before Boston and Toronto come back around in the playoffs. Everybody knows it’s an issue and it has always been an issue. We’ll see how Elton Brand addresses it.

Other notes:

Shake Milton got some early minutes before disappearing entirely until the fourth quarter. He finished with 5.

Amir Johnson only played eight minutes off the bench

9 points, 3 rebounds, and 4 assists for Wilson Chandler, who I would have liked to see take more shots last night considering the thin lineup

Embiid had 6 turnovers to go with his 6 assists, so that’s an A/TO ratio that doesn’t do anything for anyone.

T.J. McConnell was really the only bench player to do much of anything in the game’s first 46 minutes. Landry Shamet did most of his damage in the garbage time rally.

The buyout market cannot come fast enough for this team. They need front court depth badly.

Joel Embiid said that the Sixers always make the Nets’ guards look like “freaking Hall of Famers,” and he’s not wrong.

the “Fortnite Cam” at Sixers games makes me feel old as hell

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