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nobodyfamousposts · 5 years ago

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Can you describe in detail this? If you (and a few others) could fully (or partially) change MLB, how would you guys change it? My guesses: Littlebug/Chatton Noir/Kagami's Daughter exist, and the status quo is practically gone, or THE FREAKING WILL THEY WON'T THEY love... Polygon????

To be fair, we probably couldn’t make Littlebug and Chaton exist in canon without…complications in terms of what happens to them. Though if we could simply ignore all that and keep the cuteness, I think we would probably make the web series about them and their daily antics in being living dolls rather than tormenting poor chibi-Chat, and I’m sure people would likely prefer that.

AU items aside, as far as changes to the show, continuity would be the big thing. As would removing the ever present “Status-Quo-Yo”. There would be an order to the episodes and changes that carry over from one to the next.

There would be less time wasted on plot points that go nowhere and Marinette cringe. There would also be less focus on Marinette making mistakes and being forced to “learn something” every episode. It’s the same problem as Steven Universe in that every episode HAS to be from Steven’s perspective, which limits what they can show other people do since we’re supposed to be discovering things as he does. Miraculous has already shown that it doesn’t have to do that, so step back the Marinette focus and cut away some of the excess.

Have the episodes expand on the other members of the cast. That way, we learn a bit more about their lives, their personalities, and their growth. Have other people presented with challenges and learn lessons as they grow into their own. Also have more instances of more of them acting silly and being teenagers. The one thing that both Party Crasher and Puppeteer 2.0 got right was showing the interactions between other members of the cast. We got to see the boys acting silly with their party. We got to see Alya and Nino acting like an actual couple rather than two people shoehorned in together. It’s also the reason why many folks liked Silencer even if they weren’t Lukanette fans—not because it’s Luka’s episode, but because we got to see Marinette hanging out with Kitty Section and doing things that didn’t involve her overwhelming crush on Adrien.

I would have more focus on Adrien and his challenges of acclimating to a school and non-professional social settings. Have him be awkward—not because a gum incident set off a bad start, but actually SHOW him trying and failing to talk to people because he doesn’t know how or what to talk about. SHOW his supposed interest in anime. Have him TALK to people about his interests. Have him note tropes and struggle with the understanding that no, the Power of Friendship is not actually a thing—then have Nino and others be confused and exasperated when the akuma of the day ends up proving Adrien right. Or have Adrien pulling stupid stunts—he’s cooped up in his room all day, he needs SOMETHING to occupy his time! I want Plagg and Adrien moments where it isn’t just Plagg being the comic relief, but rather the bad influence encouraging Adrien to do things.

Adrien: Think I can do a flip off the rock wall and land on the couch?

Plagg: DO IT.

Or again, the aforementioned anime interest.

Plagg: This is lame. The show makes no sense. The characters make no sense. And the romance is sub par.

Adrien: (Slyly) Yeah, you’re right. Usagi could do better than Mamoru anyway.

Plagg: YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

Whenever we see Adrien, it’s boring. Oh look, Adrien playing the piano because it’s his schedule even though nobody seems to care. Oh look, Adrien doing something at his computer. Oh look, Adrien being sad. Again. Sure, this keeps up the “perfect” angle, but it’s not because he actually is, but rather because he DOESN’T DO ANYTHING.

Marinette isn’t allowed to be right. Adrien isn’t allowed to be wrong. So they have Marientte constantly making mistakes and be the focus of attention while they flat out ignore Adrien except to remind us that he’s there and perfect. So I’d include confused Adrien. Adrien being a teenager. Adrien doing stupid things. Adrien making actual mistakes and learning lessons. Adrien who is actually shown doing things he LIKES doing.

And I know a lot of people would hate me for this, but I say include a male Lila (Lilam?) to help screw with Adrien. Adrien still doesn’t get a lot of aspects of student culture and social norms, and I could see someone taking full advantage of that to use against him. Not to make him a boyfriend, but just to topple the “perfect boy”. Make Adrien the male Lila’s target because Adrien wouldn’t be quite as sure what to do about it, and this would be a case where his initial “non-confrontation” stance WON’T WORK. This would also serve to give us the Adrien Protection Squad we’ve all been wanting once his friends figure out what’s happening.

In addition, I’d include more focus on lore and plot. Season 1 to introduce the characters and establish the world. Season 2 to expand on the lore and start to explore the Miraculous and what they truly are. Show who the other past Miraculous users were and what they accomplished. Give us a past Miraculous user gone rogue who comes back for revenge. And Season 3 to try to actually take down Hawk Moth with that knowledge. Marinette starts learning more Guardian things as Fu starts to prepare her to become his successor. Adrien starts investigating his mother’s disappearance and the strangeness in his own home. These things start to come together, leading to a clash for both teens as they have to discover themselves, where they stand, and which side they’re going to be on.

Have MORE go on with this game of cat and mouse between the heroes and Fu VS Hawk Moth. Him trying to capture the heroes while they are slowly but steadily trying to track him. Then when he discovers Fu’s presence, a growing tension as Fu and Gabriel are each trying to hunt the other down while trying to avoid being caught themselves. A circular game, one with more intrigue and espionage. Where Hawk Moth gets his little victories just as much as the heroes get theirs. Until eventually it all comes to a head when each knows who the other is and have to figure out how to act on it.

And for the Love Square…slow burn buildup. Season 1 for them both to realize their interest in the other and come to terms amidst the whole “being heroes” issue. Season 2 to try to address it and deal with being rejected. Season 3 to try and move on only to be reminded why they fell in love. See that? We can draw out the Love Square while still making progress.

NO STATUS QUO. There will be PROGRESS. There will be healthy relationships and friendships and actual interactions. There will be lessons for people besides Marinette. There will be greater buildup to the other heroes getting Miraculous as well. It’s not just Marinette tossing a Miraculous at them when it’s convenient, it’s each of the other heroes proving THEMSELVES. It will make each incident of them becoming heroes something to build up to rather than something expected because “Everybody gets a Miraculous now”.

I’m sure there are others or I could get into more specifics, but yeah. That’s what I’d say to go for.

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thephantomofthe-internet · 6 years ago

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Homeward Bound: Chapter 8

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader, Billy Hargrove x Henderson!Reader

Chapter Summary: Going from Hargrove to Harrington can give a girl whiplash, or at least it should.

Words: 3,213

Warnings: Swearing, slight smut referenced oops, death mention

Permanent Tag: @hotstuffhargrove @denimjacketkisses @hargrovesgoldilocks @casaharrington @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @hipsmcgee

Series Tag: @moonstruckhargrove @kurt-nightcrawler @baebee35 @thoughstofaredhead @supernatural-pants @bby-becca @fear-the-reaper115

You awoke to the sun burning your eyes. Your neck was sore and locked up, your back aching. As you sat up, it took you a minute to remember where you were. This wasn’t your bed, nor was it your room, but your things were everywhere.

You were at Billy’s. And you’d slept with him.

And you hated yourself for it. You shouldn’t have done it, he loved you for Christ’s sake, and you used him.

And the worst part was it wasn’t even good. It was terrible, god awful, embarrassingly bad. You were certain that your memory of him being a god in bed was just the memory of an inexperienced teenager, because this was not good by any means. You’d never felt more ignored by the person on top of your in your life-you were a complete afterthought in the whole event. You swore you’d never been further from an orgasm in your entire life. That would’ve been shitty but if it hadn’t lasted forever; that was the one thing your memory had correct, he lasted long. Too bad that’s all he had going for him.

You crept out of bed; Billy was still snoring next to your place in bed, and slowly gathered your things off the floor. You made sure to not miss a piece of yourself, pulling back on your skirt and blouse, your bra was still around your waist when you awoke. You pulled on your underwear and tiptoed out of his bedroom.

Your shoes and purse were still by the door and you grabbed them, slipping out the front door before he could even stir.

You knew well enough that you looked awful-signs of sex were all over you. You were more than glad that the hickeys weren’t on your neck, only your chest and collarbones. Your body was desperately sore, though it was only because you’d tried and failed to share a twin bed.

As you made your way out of the apartment, you wondered how you were going to spin this into a good lie. Your mother was going to kill you, god that felt so immature to you. You weren’t supposed to be out with boys, unless the boy was Dustin, and you certainly weren’t supposed to be spending the night with them. And you’d been gone all night, how the hell were you supposed to cover for yourself. Steve had to have told your mother where you were going, he always had to have the moral high ground over you.

The honk of a car horn startled you out of your thoughts, though you chose not to turn around to see who it was. You didn’t want nor need to see whoever thought it was a good idea to honk to get a lady’s attention.

“Henderson!” the driver cried and you let out a small sigh and a tired laugh, turning to smile at the driver.

Steve Harrington was behind you and his timing was excellent.

“You need a ride?” he asked, slowing the car as he got closer to you. You nodded, pulling open the door and hopping in quickly. Steve chuckled, watching you straighten out and slump down, defeated.

“Have fun last night?” he asked with a smirk.

You groaned “No…well yeah, and then no. Ugh, it was not a good choice.” You admitted glumly. “And now I’m gonna get grounded, god I feel like I’m sixteen or something…”

“Relax, your mom’s not gonna do shit to you.” Steve replied easily. You scowled at him, rolling your eyes.

“Have you met my mother?” you asked sarcastically.

“Yes, and I know lying to her solves most problems, which I already did. As far as she knows, you were at Jenny Stein’s. And since she lives in the same complex as your Mr. Hargrove, I think it’ll work out fine.” Steve said with a shrug.

“You lied to my mom for me?” you asked, wide eyed.

“Yeah, yeah I did.” He replied.

“Thank you…” you said. You had no idea what else, it shocked you. He wasn’t supposed to be protecting you, that wasn’t his role anymore. But he was, and while it should’ve annoyed you, it warmed your heart.

“Don’t worry about it, you hungry?” he said “Cause I haven’t eaten yet and I’m starving.”

“Yeah, yeah I can eat.” You said, ignore the way your stomach growled at the very mention of food. Steve drove off towards what was once a crime scene, the diner formerly owned by Benny Hammond, the first outside victim anyone had ever heard of.

The place lived in a strange place in your mind; filled with both happiness and second hand grief. It lived there because you didn’t know Benny, you never would, but you spent hours in the place he died. Benny’s had been bought by a third party chain and soon became a fifties themed diner-complete with waitresses on roller skates. It had lost its down-home sheen and became an outside force. People protested the change but nothing could be done and suddenly it was someplace without feeling; a cold, sterile environment wrapped in pastels and kitsch. It felt fake and yet real, you spent nearly every afternoon there, planning schemes but also drinking shakes and relaxing, planning school dances or weekend trips. You went on dates there, saw hearts break and explode with love. You both loved and hated that diner.

And sitting there now, in your old booth from years past, you felt both at home and in a strange land. You’d been on your first date with Steve in that same booth, sharing a shake and wondering how your lives had gotten to this point. Now, you sat as strangers, sipping coffee, unsure of your places in each other’s worlds. Silence was the wall in between you. You intended to remove the first brick; you’d built the wall after all.

“He said he loved me.” You said simply, swallowing a mouthful of warm coffee, slightly too sweet for your liking.

“He did?” Steve asked, clearing his throat. He was obviously holding back a laugh, trying to be polite to you, but it wasn’t working; his face fully gave him away.

“He did.” You replied, chuckling softly.

“How did you respond?” Steve asked, leaning closer to you, elbows on the table, dangerously close to knocking the salt over

“I nearly jumped out the window!” you cried, earning a boisterous laugh from Steve, who fell back against the white vinyl booth. The whole thing was as silly as it felt, which was reassuring. But it was also nice to laugh about it-when it happened, you wanted to die, but now you were okay. You didn’t have to love him, and you sure as hell didn’t, but it was good to know that the whole thing was as stupid sounding as it felt.

“Jesus Christ and you still slept with him?” he asked, dumbfounded, shaking his head with a wide smile.

“Apparently! I guess I pitied him or something…” you sighed, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity.

“Was it…sorry, no I shouldn’t ask that.” He replied, stumbling over the question he gave up on. Your roller-inclined waitress, Katherine, placed your plates in front of you, refilling the coffee cups and skating off before you could even thank her.

“No, it’s cool.” You shrugged “It was awful. Absolutely terrible, it was like sleeping with a virgin except it lasted for like two and a half hours.”

“Wait seriously?” he asked, dropping his fork. This was a new side of Billy Steve never got to see-the side where he wasn’t the king. Even long after high school, he still ruled over their peers. Sure, now he ran Miller’s Bar like he owned the place and made the young parents of Hawkins feel bad for starting their families early. But he was still admired, still wanted and lusted after. Steve hadn’t had a date in months but Billy was out every weekend from what he heard. On major drinking holidays, he’d been called to take down a couple of Billy’s altercations but nothing really ever became of them-nobody pressed charges and every generally forgot, leaving him with the paperwork.

“Really!” you cried, giggling “I swear, the guy I lost my virginity to was better, at least it was shorter.”

“Was I? I mean…never mind.” Steve started, immediately giving up on the sentence again. He was blushing now, his eyes downturned to his eggs, suddenly small in his seat.

“You were better, don’t worry.” You said easily, shrugging softly as you took a bite of the giant pile of pancakes. Steve perked up just a little, a small smile spreading across his face. He looked more confident, at ease with himself again. You were glad to be of a little help to his self-esteem, even if you weren’t necessarily ready to be having these conversations again.

“Well good…not that I asked, but you know…good to know.” He said, his voice smoother. He was trying to play it cool now, finding his groove again, although he seemed to be stumbling just a bit. You found it oddly endearing, like an elementary schooler trying to imitate their cool older brother instead of an adult.

“Oh totally…totally completely, you’d never ask me that…” you replied, shaking your head as a small smile slipped onto your lips. It was hard not to laugh; he looked so serious, you could almost take him seriously if you didn’t know him. As he puffed out his chest, doing a silent imitation of Billy, you lost it. He just looked so silly; a false attempt at masculinity and suaveness, like a marionette instead of a real boy.

“Good and, ya know girl…I still love ya…” he added, trying his best to mock the Californian’s accent, slightly marred by Indiana’s tone.

You snorted loudly, coffee nearly coming out of your nose, making you choke just for a second as you shook your head, holding up your palm in the universal sign of ‘stop, wait I got one’.

“No no it’s like this.” You puffed your chest, widening your stance to make yourself as big as possible. You jutted out your jaw and pulled your best open mouth smirk, eyeing him like a piece of meat, which immediately made Steve cower away, watching you almost mystified. You ran your tongue over your upper teeth and lip, nodding at him. “You know I just…I love you, pretty girl…” you crooned, your voice not quite low enough to reach his tone and not quite skilled enough to imitate his accent, turning the words into a strange mix of choices that broke Steve’s resolve immediately.

“What was that…” he cried, his voice hoarse and breathless. You merely grinning, shrugging easily. “How do you move like him and sound nothing like him at the same time?” he guffawed.

“I’m not good at accents!” you said with a laugh, only making Steve laugh harder. The whole scene felt homey, like a warm blankets on a cold winter’s night. It was one of those moments you wished you could sink into like a warm bath, but time was physical and you had to move on, taking a sip of coffee and watching Steve come down from his giggle fit.

You finished breakfast in relative silence, although it was comfortable one. The kind you had with your father before he got his divorce and ran off with his mistress, back when you were young and naïve of the ways the world can ruin a person. It was strange to find yourself comparing Steve to your father, especially because you hated your father.

You hated him for abandoning you and Dustin. You hated him for not paying child support. You hated him for marrying Marnie and forcing you to play bridesmaid while Dustin was none the wiser. You hated him for moving on with his life while your mother struggled to find her footing again. You hated him for taking away the music in your life and forcing you to find it again on your own.

But Steve…well he wasn’t your father. Not by a long shot. Your mother swore that once he had a sense of humour and a heart, but you never really got to see it. But this breakfast with him, you felt as though you slipped back into your childhood in Chicago.

Your feet dangled off the floor as you sat on the edge of your big wooden kitchen chair, trying to keep your freshly cleaned and absolute favourite pink shirt, the one with the big crocheted butterfly on the front, clear of cereal bites and spilled milk as you took too big bites of sugary breakfast cereal. Across the table, your father sat in his equally clean and pressed black suit, the jacket hanging off the chair like clockwork. He was reading the newspaper, the ink turner the tips of his fingers black, and drinking black coffee from the boring, plain white mug he used every morning like clockwork. You made him a mug for father’s day, covered in bright splotches of colour and squiggly doodles that vaguely mimicked smiley faces, hearts, and stars. He used it once, and then it became a holder for pens and pencils on his desk. You didn’t mind, you were just happy he appreciated it, that he even used it at all.

Your mother was frazzled upstairs. Dustin had just been born, he was hardly alive and yet he insisted on making his presence known by screaming. He’d been in and out of the hospital since he was born. Your father wasn’t pleased about it, you’d heard them fight, but when you looked at your baby brother, he seemed fine to you. He didn’t have collar bones, fair, but you thought it was cool. And besides, his big eyes made up for it. You thought he was beautiful. Your father disagreed.

On mornings like this, you had to make your own breakfast, which meant whatever the sugariest cereal you had in stock was with too much milk because the jug was too heavy for you to lift and your father was never really watching to make sure you could handle it. You ate at the table in as close to silence as a five year old could muster, which meant you hummed to yourself and muttered whatever thoughts you had to yourself, and your father read in silence. It was nice though-your father worked long hours and you hardly saw him because of it. Those brief moments at the table before he left for work gave you simple moments with him, the tangible kind you could taste and smell and hear and feel when you recalled them.

You heard your mother let out a sharp cry, a word you knew you weren’t supposed to use and mommies weren’t supposed to say. “Cliff!” she cried from upstairs “I think he’s sick, I think we have to go back to the hospital!”

Your father looked up from his paper for the first time that morning, calling back “I’m sure he’s fine, Claudia! He’s just acting like a baby!” and then, he looked to you. He hadn’t looked at you all morning. And he smiled, he rolled his eyes. This was an intimate moment, a brief beat where your sentiments were aligned and he treated you like his equal. He believed that you two had the same feelings on the situation happening just above you. And you complied; you shrugged with a giggle, a secret shared between you two. For the first time in your life, you and your father were aligned, comrades in battle instead of trailing daughter to distant, aloof father. That little look you shared was a moment you held onto for the rest of your life, until he sent you back to Hawkins without a second look.

You wondered if that was who Steve could become. You could almost see it-if life led him done the same path it led Hopper, you could see him becoming jaded and cynical and distant. But then there was something in him, an eternal sense of hope, which kept him away from that path. He didn’t believe that the world was inherently good, he knew that there was evil always lurking around the corner, but he still believed in some sense of good and truth in the world, something you couldn’t fully get on board with anymore. You wondered if he had a cynical bone in his body. You guessed not.

“You ready to face the wrath of your mom?” Steve asked, drawing you out of your thoughts, an ease to his whole demeanour that felt unearned. You wished he was still nervous around you instead of so cool and collected.

“Eh, I guess…as long she actually believes I was at Jenny’s I should be fine. If not…well I would really appreciate if you were a poll bearer at my funeral.” You replied.

“Oh yeah? Who else should I ask?” he asked with a grin, pulling out his wallet to pay for breakfast before you could even ask for separate checks.

“Well Dusty, obviously, then get Lucas and Mike, I don’t really think Will can do the heavy lifting, not that Mike really could either…maybe get Marvin Rubio to do it, he’ll cry his way through it but he’s stronger than Mike and should be able to help hold my ass up, as long as he’s got a strong support around him to lift I won’t end up on the floor.” You said decidedly.

“What should we do about lover boy then?” he asked “I’m sure he’d want to carry you down the river.”

“Don’t let him touch me, and don’t let him make a speech! My mother will kill my ghost and I wanna haunt some people.” You replied.

“Duly noted, now let’s get out of here before Callahan puts an APB out on my location.” Steve said and you nodded, getting up from the plastic seat, your thighs sticking to the material slightly. Going home sounded both good and bad to you now; good, because you could finally change and wash the sins off your body, but bad because you have to finally deal with your mother. And the negatively were vastly outweighing the positives. Still, there was nowhere else for you to go, so you gritted your teeth and climbed back into Steve’s car.

The drive was short, much to your chagrin, and you were home before you could find your strength again. Unlike before, Steve wasn’t parking, so you quickly gathered your things.

“Thanks, for picking me up…and for breakfast, it was nice.” You said awkwardly, slinging your purse over your shoulder. He nodded and you climbed out quick, set to begin the dreaded ascent up your driveway.

Steve rolled down his window, calling after you “Hey! Before you try to make other plans, you wanna hang out with me and Dustin tonight? I’m sure the kid would love having you around.” He asked.

You nodded “Sure! Sounds good!” you replied with a grin, waving as he drove up before rushing up the steps. It was still early, maybe she was still asleep.

The door burst open. “Y/N!”

You were so dead.

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