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twotales · 2 years

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The Soap Box Derby Kids Chapter Two: So Cool

Chapter One: Smile

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Characters: Radek Zelenka, Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Sam Carter, Evan Lorne, Acastus Kolya

Rating: G

Word Count: 2016

Tags: AU, Kids, Secrets, Sneaking Out, Soap Box Derby, Minor Violence, Bullying, Reference to Depression & Anxiety, Friendship, Alternate Universe - The Soap Box Derby Kids

Note: Ages: John, Evan: 9 | Radek, Rodney, Sam: 10 | Kolya: 12

Read On A03

John climbed in through Evan’s window and slid into his desk chair, propping his feet up on Evan’s beanbag. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back, staring at the poster of Farrah Fawcett on the back of Evan’s door.

He’d started skipping out of the library and heading to Evan’s house three times a week. His fists tightened, Father would never approve. Would rather shelter him from this kind of life.

But not Evan. John relaxed. No, Evan opened the door and pulled him straight into the unknown, and John learned that there was a lot he didn’t know. Luckily, Evan obliged him with whole hearted enthusiasm.

He'd played Pong and Computer Space. Evan let him borrow his comics, he learned about Hulk, Spider-man, and Batman. Let him read his books, Journey to the Center of the Earth, Tom Sawyer, and The Princess Bride. Evan showed him ScoobyDoo, Fantastic Four, and Speed Racer. Taught him about Surfing and Skateboarding, battleship, and monopoly.

John devoured it all.

He was discovering a few things about himself as well. Evan thought he was funny. He liked being funny, liked smiling in all its forms. Smirking and grinning, small and broad, cocky and warmhearted. His face made all sorts of animated expressions now. Being this new self had him feeling calmer, boneless, and free.

This new John enjoyed running fast and rolling around in the dirt. Loved climbing trees and jumping off high places. Catching newts in the river and throwing mud. Screaming his lungs out as he ran through a field at top speed.

He had to force himself not to slouch at home, not to smile. Force himself to put his hair in its perfect shape and dress in his stiff clothes. He wanted messy hair and dirt beneath his nails. He longed to wear the jeans, t-shirts, and tennis shoes hidden beneath his bed. But it was okay, he could be fake John at home. It was worth it as long as he had this.

John snapped up as Evan pushed the door open fast, the knob slamming into the already dented wall. His eyes were sparkling as he waved an object around excitedly.

John’s eyes widened as he stared at the videocassette clutched in Evan’s hand.

"What’s that?"

Evan grinned and smacked it on the table. “You’re going to like this.”

John grinned back and flicked the tv on, his hands shaking as he put the tape in. Evan had never failed him, he always knew what John would love, the kid seeing something in him enough to gauge his tastes, tastes he didn’t even realize he had. This had to be a good one too, Evan hadn’t been this excited since Star Trek.

The video started and his mouth gaped, “Whoa.”

It was love at first sight.

“It’s called The Soap Box Derby,” Evan said. He pulled another chair close, their shoulders pressing together, “Cool, right?”

John’s eyes were riveted to the colorful, bullet-shaped cars racing down a hill. Elongated axles between disc wheels spinning so fast it made him dizzy. The kids ducked their heads. The cars whipped down faster. His heart slammed as a red one took the lead, the crowd on the sides screaming and hollering. The car practically flying as the kid took first.

“So, cool.” He breathed.

#sga #stargate atlantis #rodney mckay #john sheppard #radek zelenka #sam carter #evan lorne #acastus kolya #Alternate universe #soap box derby #the soap box derby kids #fanfic #myfic #twotalesff #I love my little AU #it makes me so happy

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driveintheaterofthemind · 4 years

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Remember When… Valentines Day Was Comical?

#Vintage #Art #Illustration #Design #Comics #Remember When #Holidays #Valentines Day #Valentines #Mickey Mouse Magazine #Big Shot #Sugar And Spike #Fawcett's Funny Animals #Looney Tunes And Merry Melodies Comics #Super Comics #Jingle Jangle Comics #Little Lulu #Frisky Fables

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adamcasey · 5 years

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In 1942, just 2 years after Captain Marvel debuted, Fawcett presented Hoppy, The Captain Marvel Bunny. He idolized Captain Marvel and says “Shazam” and to his surprise, he gets powers. There was even a Wizard Bunny. Other characters in the comic were traditional cartoon fare.

#shazam #shazam movie #shazam family #marvel family #captain marvel #hoppy the marvel bunny #hoppy the shazam bunny #fawcett #fawcett comics #funny animals #golden age comics #comic books

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cgbcomics · 7 years

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#hoppy the marvel bunny #funny animals comics #fawcett comics #captain marvel

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browsethestacks · 7 months

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5 Random Comics

#5 Random #5 Random Comics #Brenda Starr #Daredevil #Airboy #Captain Marvel Bunny #Archie's Joke Book #Fawcett's Funny Animals #Archies Joke Book #Fawcetts Funny Animals #Vintage #Art #Fawcett Comics #Marvel Comics #Archie Comics

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jlaclassified · 7 years

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Captain Marvel rules

#captain marvel #shazam #funny animals #hoppy the marvel bunny #dc comics #fawcett comics #jerry ordway #the power of shazam

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digitalcomicmuseum · 5 years

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Comic Uploaded: 14-05-2019 Fawcetts Funny Animals 025 Uploader: titansfan Download Link: https://digitalcomicmuseum.com/index.php?dlid=32638 Read Online

#digitalcomicmuseum #comicbook #golden age comics #Fawcetts Funny Animals 025

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doronjosama · 3 years

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Going thru my collection to prep for the upcoming Eckman's Collectibles Show, & found two of my rarest & oldest comics: Fawcett's Funny Animals #7 & #27 from the 1940's. Both feature Hoppy the Marvel Bunny. I paid a whopping $13 for both, these were not hotly sought after in the late 80's-early 90's. 🤷‍♀️ (These are NOT for sale, they are treasures!) #fawcettsfunnyanimals #funnyanimals #VintageComics #1940scomics #hoppythemarvelbunny #comiccollector #ComicShopGirl #furrycomics #IBleedComics https://www.instagram.com/p/CSxjQcFjwPp/?utm_medium=tumblr

#7 #27 #fawcettsfunnyanimals #funnyanimals #vintagecomics #1940scomics #hoppythemarvelbunny #comiccollector #comicshopgirl #furrycomics #ibleedcomics

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years

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Xanadu

Another day, another 80s musical reviewed for Wes. This time it��s Xanadu, and I confess I am excited. I know less than nothing about this film, only that it’s 1) bad and 2) beloved by the gays. Sign me up, y’all. So did this inspire me to strap on some roller skates and Farrah Fawcett my hair to the beat of some groovin’ tunes? Well...

Not...exactly. It’s an entry in the list of films that I’m glad I’ve seen for their historical impact but probably never need to see again. Like Birth of a Nation but with less virulent racism. The basic plot is this: Sonny (Michael Beck) is an artist painting album covers when he meets a girl one day named Kira (Olivia Newton-John) who turns his world upside down. He also befriends, and eventually goes into business with, a man named Danny McGuire (Gene Kelly) and together they start a club called Xanadu.

Some thoughts:

There’s an old man with a scarf sitting on a rocky beach playing his clarinet as the sun rises in the sky. What a way to greet the day. Holy shit that old man is Gene Kelly!! How did I not know he was in this? How is Xanadu’s legacy not “Yeah it’s this trippy rollerskating musical that GENE FREAKING KELLY was in”? So I guess the old clarinet man is actually important to the story, because I thought he was just like, a muse alerting us to the tale we were about to watch unfold.

Ohhh Kenny Ortega is the choreographer, interesting. I’m so ready to see his early artistic vision and how it developed into the level of genius it was at for High School Musical.

Ok, the first number is this kind of electric neon ballet set to ELO singing “I’m Alive” and it mostly consists of incredibly beautiful women with Farrah hair dancing and twirling in fantastic skirts while Olivia Newton-John is going :O the whole time. It’s no chandelier dropping from the ceiling, but it’s not a bad way to start a musical.

Hm, well now the women are turning into lasers and running, kind of like The Flash. Maybe I spoke too soon.

These transitions between scenes are absolutely godawful Powerpoint transitions and I’m obsessed with them. It’s like eating a couple buffalo wings in between your entree and dessert. By itself, not bad, but why would you use that as a way to get from one experience to another?

I am really enjoying this kind of ghost number between Gene Kelly and Olivia Newton-John as he’s remembering his heyday. It’s sweet, and it’s not hard to see that Kelly is drawing on his own experiences and memories of his career in the 40s as he’s imagining this dance with his long lost love.

I don’t think anything is less romantic than roller skating in front of an industrial wind tunnel fan, however, so this part with ONJ and Michael Beck (who plays our main character, Sonny) is a big ol snoozefest. You’ll notice I have not mentioned Sonny yet and there’s a reason for that. He’s the movie’s equivalent of a black hole. I’m so uninterested when he’s on screen. He’s beige shag carpeting. He’s a baloney and mayo sandwich. He’s motel art. Every moment he’s onscreen and ONJ or Gene Kelly aren’t is a moment wasted.

Every scene feels like a new vignette that is only loosely connected to the previous scenes. This showdown between the old jazz big band number and the 80s rock number feels like two extended music videos, one after the other or a dreadful mashup from Glee (and I don’t mean barely passable Glee, I mean the later seasons).

Dammmmn have you ever had such a good kiss with someone that you turned animated? Me neither. I’m gonna work on that with Wife.

Oh and the animation sequence was produced by Don Bluth. Of course it fucking was.

Sonny. My man. How can you love Kira when you don’t know anything about her at all? Have you guys even had one conversation? Or is it all rollerskating lasers and wind tunnel fans. I know you can’t hear a word she says over the sound of that fan, my dude..

Ah, so she’s one of the nine muses! This scene where she’s trying to convince Sonny is pretty funny actually. ONJ is hands down the most magnetic and interesting part of this movie.

Wait so...Sonny’s big plan is to run at a wall that’s got a painting on it, and he just assumes he can enter that painting like it’s a portal to another dimension? You’re just gonna Wile E. Coyote this motherfucker and hope for the best? This is probably the only interesting thing I can say about Sonny is that he’s dumb as a bag of hammers.

Ugghhh this song about staying suspended in time is the “Cheer Up Charlie” of this movie, meaning it goes on way too long, grinds the action to a halt, and makes me irrationally furious just thinking about it.

But then here is Gene Kelly, roller skating through a parade of mimes juggling bowling pins, and it makes everything worth the price of admission again.

“Xanadu” is the most confusing musical number I’ve ever seen. At one point everyone is tigers, then they’re cowboys. There’s a woman spinning in some kind of acrobatic harness by the back of her neck so she’s just spinning in tight circles. I think someone might have been on fire. I’m thinking John Mulaney watched this many times as inspiration for Stefon-endorsed clubs on SNL.

Did I Cry? Not even close.

This is a WEIRD one, which I knew going in, but you just don’t really know how weird until it’s happening to you. And this is definitely a movie that happens to you. Performances? Eh, ONJ and Gene Kelly are mainly skating by on pure charisma. But all the rollerskates and lasers in the world won’t make this script make a lick of sense. See it for the novelty, but it’s the movie equivalent of a Twinkie - confusing and not exactly filling, but enjoyable just the same.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#121in2021 #xanadu #xanadu review #olivia newton john #gene kelly #michael beck #kenny ortega #patreon review #movie reviews #film reviews

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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The apparition of impostor!Lavender Jack make me wonder : do you know if the "I'm like you but evil" villain archetype was popular in pulp fiction or is it more a super-hero thing ?

It's very much more of a superhero thing. Not that it didn't exist before, obviously the idea of villains designed to resemble and contrast their heroes is as old as villainy itself, but the idea of a supervillain who's specifically meant to be an evil version of the superhero, the "Inverted-Superhero Supervillain" as Peter Coogan calls it, was defined in comics.

If you wanna get specific, technically the first supervillain to be specifically defined as an evil opposite to the hero (as opposed to just being an evil take on a general heroic concept) was Moriarty, who's is very strongly defined as almost an evil twin of Holmes. This, I'd argue, is Moriarty's greatest contribution to the history of the supervillain, because he was neither the first, nor the one who popularized the idea of a supervillain or arch-enemy (those would be Dr Jack Quartz of the Nick Carter magazines as well as the grand criminals from the feuilletons that inspired Holmes).

What the pulps had, in turn, was supervillains who were meant to evoke popular heroes, like Fantomas who evokes the gentleman thief and John Sunlight in his original form who greatly resembles Holmes, and supervillains who were protagonists, but not specifically inverted takes on superheroes, because those as we define them weren't around. The Shadow fought several criminals who were intended to evoke him, and as far as I can find Gibson was the first person to specifically coin the term "super-crook/criminal/villain" to describe villains (which does not mean he created the concept).

The grand criminals of the dime novels and feuilletons led to the pulp supervillains, which grew bigger and badder and more outlandish and laid down much of the foundations of what we currently used to define supervillains. And throughout this history, the idea of costume-wearing supervillains gradually starts to show up, first of these being the Wolf Devil from Queen of the Northwoods (1929), likely the first superpowered costumed supervillain in Anglo media, followed by the Klan robe-wearing pulp villains, and then odd costumed supervillains like Bill Everett's Great Question and The Lightning from The Fighting Devil Dogs, until at last we get to the comic book supervillains proper. And with them, the Inverted-Superhero Supervillain, as Peter Coogan describes it:

The inverted-superhero supervillain is limited to the superhero genre, primarily because they have superpowers, codenames, and costumes. Although there are earlier costumed supervillains in comics—such as the vampiric Monk, whose schemes Batman ruins in Detective Comics #31—the Joker and Catwoman are probably the best, early examples of inverted-superhero supervillains.

Prior villains like the Monk draw on masked and robed pulp predecessors and mad scientists like Lex Luthor or the Hugo Strange have a long lineage outside of comics. But the Joker and Catwoman mark an innovation in villainy because they are such direct responses to the superhero by creators looking to expand the superhero genre.

It's a bit trickier to say which exactly would be the first Inverted-Superhero Supervillain, along the lines of what you describe. Coogan claims it's the Joker and I disagree, because while the Joker's contrast with Batman was definitely important to his popularity and he represented a clear break away from the more pulp-esque Monk and Hugo Strange, he was hardly intended as an evil version of Batman (that would be Killer Moth in the 50s), nor was he that different from the common Dick Tracy villains or other villainous clowns in fiction like The Whisperer's Grim Joker or The Shadow's Number One to really merit that kind of distinction. You can point to other Golden Age supervillains who specifically take the superhero image of "caped man with a chest logo and/or cape & mask" like Fawcett's Captain Nazi or MLJ's Captain Swastika. I'm fairly sure there's earlier examples still, probably in the funny animal superhero comics that influenced Fawcett's output, but I'd have to go digging further for those.

Although I will point out that The Grey Claw, who I discovered more recently actually debuted almost a year ahead of Superman (in 1937), was a comic supervillain very much dressed in what nowadays we'd consider a superhero outfit, and also predating the Lightning's own costume. He was modeled quite a bit on The Shadow, not just in costume but also in laugh and mannerisms and radio boogeyman persona, but he was armed with weird sci-fi weaponry at odds with the gritty crime story he's in, and he was dressed in a costume that included not just a cape and slouch hat, but also a mask, a waistband sash, and a chest logo, and even did the classic Superman pose as seen above. Is he the true first Inverted-Superhero Supervillain? Probably not, despite his international publishing, history has not been kind to him. But so far, I'd say he's as good as any candidate.

I'm totally not biased on this regard, though. No, sir.

#replies tag #pulp supervillains #comic books #moriarty #john sunlight #fighting devil dogs #the grey claw #o garra cinzenta #the joker

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harringtown · 4 years

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all in doubt - part 5

we’re almost to the end, yall! only one more part left!

catch up here

Summary: Steve tells his parents he’s bringing a girl home for the holidays and bribes the reader to play his girlfriend. It’s two weeks in Hawkins. What could go wrong? (aka a modern college au, and-they-were-roommates, fake dating, obligatory friends to lovers, and some appearances by the crew)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: alcohol/drinking

DECEMBER 25

Chat: The Losers of Loft 522

10:02 AM - Steve the Hair: merry Christmas ya filthy animals

10:06 AM - Steve the Hair: oh come on that was funny

10:07 AM - Steve the Hair: robin if you’re ignoring me im throwing your Christmas gift in the trash

Chat: Robin & Y/N

10:08 AM - Robin Hood: have you given it to him?

10:08 AM - You: not yet. figured in front of the Harrington’s wasn’t the best place to get rejected.

10:09 AM - Robin Hood: don’t be such a pessimist

10:09 AM - You: not a pessimist, a realist

10:10 AM - Robin Hood: a depressing one

10:11 AM - You: existence is a curse

10:12 AM - Robin Hood: now you’re starting to sound like Steve

The Harrington family gathers around the living room on Christmas morning to exchange gifts, scattered across the couches and chairs and curled up on the carpet, Daria designating herself as gift distributor and picking through the crowded room to hand-wrapped boxes to people.

Steve sits beside you on the small armchair, your thighs pressed together and his elbow accidentally knocking you every two seconds. Yesterday, the touch might have made your stomach roll, made nerves flutter to life inside you, but today, your dread weighs heavily on your chest, drawing the ease out of you moment by moment.

“Have you heard from Robin?” Steve asks, leaning to murmur to you. His lips graze your earlobe and you stiffen, heart beating a mile a minute, the phone with texts from Robin burning a hole in your pocket. Robin is knee-deep in supportive best friend mode right now, and her concern is you and your heart, not Steve.

It’s you who is at the risk of crumbling today, not Steve. After a week of playing his crutch, you’re left limping on your own, Robin scrambling from far away to soften the ground.

You shake your head, and say, “She’s probably still racked out. You know her. When was the last time she got up before noon?”

Steve frowns, not one hundred percent convinced, but Daria tosses a small present into both of your laps, tearing his attention away.

“Get with the program, Steve-o,” Daria says, flashing a smile. “We’re opening presents. You can gossip with your girlfriend later.” She gives you a wink before moving back to the tree for more gifts, and to your surprise, drops one into your lap. You give her a questioning look, and her smile widens.

You look down at the small wrapped box, no bigger than your hand, and peel off the wrapping to reveal a tiny jewelry box. You tug off the top and pull out a thin, silver metal bracelet, half an inch thick, simple but beautiful. Carved into the inside, to be hidden by your wrist, are the words without fear, there cannot be courage.

You meet Daria’s gaze again across the living room, where she’s dropped down beside Ford and is watching him open a gift. She meets your eyes and you mouth, thank you, to which she grins and mouths back, be brave.

The gift in Steve’s lap is your unofficial present - the one you originally came with, before you knew you loved Steve Harrington, the one purchased when all you cared about was teasing him - and he tugs the paper off.

“You didn’t have to get me-” he stops when the paper reveals the gift, meeting your gaze and scoffing. He pulls out a bottle of Farrah Fawcett hairspray, straight out of the seventies. He gives you a withering look. “Jesus, are you kidding me?”

You grin triumphantly and reach out to tap the bottle.

“What? Your hair game has been lacking.”

He fakes offense, and you shrug, sitting back against the cushions with a mischievous smile on your lips.

“It has not.”

“Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,” you say, waggling your brows. Steve rolls his eyes and tucks the hairspray away.

“You’re fired,” he says halfheartedly.

“Too little too late for that, Harrington.”

DECEMBER 25

7:18 PM

You and Steve spend the afternoon out in the yard in the snow with Daria and Ford, both surprisingly competitive and diving deep into a snowball fight that spans hours and at least two blocks. By the time the four of you stagger back to the door, you’re soaked, shivering, and no longer hate Ford as much as you did.

He changes away from his family, the way Steve does, but to a larger degree. His arrogance gives way to easy smiles, and he simply followed Daria around, clearly smitten and under her spell.

Inside the kitchen, the rest of Steve’s family is chugging away at eggnog, and someone has strung mistletoe up above the door. Ford drags Daria beneath it, waggling his brows and making kissy faces at her until she grabs him by the arm, drags his face down to hers, and kisses the life out of him. When she releases him, she is triumphant and Ford is bewildered.

“Your turn, lovebirds,” says Gary’s fiancée, Helen, a smile on her lips as she watches from a perch atop the counter. Steve looks to you, and though it’s no more intimate than the kiss on the dancefloor of the house party or the pecks you’ve shared in front of his family, the thought of getting too close makes your stomach turn.

You thought this was survivable. You’re starting to believe differently. You’re starting to wonder how many bruises and burns your heart will come out of this with; if it’ll heal, or fester. If it’ll run you ragged or ruin you.

You just have to make it to January 2nd. Then, you can go home, return to a life in which you and Steve Harrington are roommates and nothing more.

“Oh, I don’t-” You start, but Steve takes your hand and pulls you beneath the mistletoe hanging over the doorway, lips curling up in a smile; it’s a false one, one for show, one you’ve learned to decipher these past few days. The performative smiles are the ones that make you feel sick. It’s like he’s looking straight through you, instead of at you, like you’re a window and not the view itself.

He turns to face you, both your hands in his, and gives a little shrug, as if to say, we’re in this now, yeah?

And you want to - that’s the worst part. The moment he leans in, you’ll go limp with wanting and you’ll stretch toward him and dig yourself in deeper. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to, and you really, really don’t want to.

You force a plastic smile onto your lips and step closer to him, hands moving to his waist. He ducks his head, and you tip your chin up, but the moment his lips graze yours you turn your head, letting his kiss land on your cheek.

Both of your composure is thrown off, but you recover quickly, laughing like it’s all a big tease, and Steve catches on, laughing along, though the unasked question in his eyes is piercing.

For the rest of the night, until you meander up to the bedroom, you refuse to meet his gaze, incapable of giving him an answer.

When you do finally settle in for bed, you remember the wrapped CD, your heart lurching and pulse racing. You move to the end of the bed and reach over into your suitcase, tugging out the small wrapped gift, tossing it onto Steve’s lap.

He frowns, lifting his gaze from his phone, confusion dotting his features.

“What’s-”

“Your real present,” you say, climbing back beneath the covers, sitting up against the headboard, a foot between you and Steve. He hesitates, but pulls the wrapping off and sets it aside, inspecting the CD case.

The Great Deceit of Christmas 2020: a mixtape

Steve looks at you, something indecipherable flickering in his eyes, something like awe or maybe surprise, something you can’t sort out, and then back down at the CD, flipping it over to read the tracklist tucked into the back. Your stomach twists as he inspects the page directly atop your folded letter, but even when he pops open the case, he doesn’t notice the little paper.

When he meets your gaze again, his expression is soft but still unreadable.

“Thank you,” he says. You force a smile onto your lips, unsure whether it actually passes as that or a grimace.

“No problem,” you say, and turn away, laying down and tugging the covers up, ending the conversation before he can push it any farther.

DECEMBER 26

The family spends the day in their own rooms, lounging and napping and only exiting the safety of the bedrooms to grab food from the kitchen before retreating.

Steve listens to the CD on an old player in his garage, and tells you he loves it.

He doesn’t find the letter, or maybe he does, and his silence is his version of a rejection.

DECEMBER 27

You and Steve meet up with Dustin and spend the afternoon sledding down snowy hills, noses and fingers pink, laughing your throats raw.

Six more days in Hawkins. You play your role, and Steve plays his, but something has changed; some of the ease is gone, and you’ve no idea whether it’s your doing or his or a combination of both.

DECEMBER 28

Ice skating on the frozen lake with Daria and Ford, a needed escape from Steve and his silence.

You’ve never known him to be so quiet.

DECEMBER 29

Four more days.

DECEMBER 30

Not a word about the letter. Three days left. You can’t decide whether you’re relieved or angry that he hasn’t brought it up. You can’t decide whether you’re ready for this curtain to fall.

DECEMBER 31

9:25 PM

The Byers family throws a New Year’s party, and all of Steve’s kids - you’ve taken to calling them as such, to Steve’s chagrin - are present, as well as Nancy, Jonathan, and the police chief, Hopper.

The moment you arrive, Nancy drags you into the kitchen and hands you a drink, to your infinite relief. You don’t even have to thank her before she’s smiling and tapping her glass against yours and heading off in search of Jonathan.

You seek out Steve, who’s engaged in some conversation with Dustin, the two speaking with their hands and gesturing passionately. As if noticing your gaze, the boys turn your way, and you give a tiny wave. Steve’s cheeks flush, and he looks away. Your stomach twists, and you take a long drag from your cup, warmth spreading in your gut.

You do your best to avoid him for the duration of the party, settling in on the couch with El and Max and listening to their rambles about the boys and gossiping about Steve and Robin. Even with the distraction, you can’t help but look for him every few minutes, a weird, relieved sensation flooding through you each time you find him.

You’ve never wanted to go home more; you’ve never wanted to stay more.

DECEMBER 31

11:59 PM

Everyone gathers in the living room around the TV as the count starts, splitting into couples or darting for champagne - juice for the non-21’s.

59…58…57…

The alcohol you’ve nursed over the past few hours have smoothed out your dread and anxiety, have softened your hard edges and put a genuine smile on your face. Even when Steve takes your hand and pulls you close, you do nothing but smile, winding your arms around his neck.

36…35…34…

It’s the final act; might as well make it memorable. It’s the finale; after this, darkness falls on the story and a new one begins. At this point, you have nothing left to lose; Steve Harrington doesn’t love you back, his silence and distance the last few days indicative enough. But for right now, at this moment, surrounded by the audience, you’re still donning your costumes and still reading your scripts. Right now, the rules are too blurry to be read, and you have too little time left not to take advantage of that.

14…13…12…

The entire room chants, voice shaking the walls.

5…4…3…2…1…

You reach for each other at the same time, a messy kiss, an almost frantic one. There is no one to see it, but if there were, the cracks would be split wide open, the actors behind the characters breaking through their roles. Moving hands and bumping noses and tongues flicking against teeth and your heartbeat, above it all, pounding like a drum.

“Happy new year!”

You pull away first, allowing yourself one moment to look into Steve’s blown eyes and at his pink, soft mouth, and to listen to his huffing breaths, to pretend it’s anything but what it really is: a lie. When the moment ends, your tally falls.

One day left.

JAN 1ST

12:02 PM

Steve sleeps the day away, and you spend your last hours in the Harrington home with Daria and Ford. Apart from his family, Ford is surprisingly tolerable, almost likable. Both are in on the secret, though Ford was sworn to secrecy and threatened with his life by Daria to ensure his silence, and it’s nice not to have to pretend, if only for a little while.

Pretending hurts more than it did in the beginning. Now, all you want is to go back to the real world. To mourn the days you’ve spent here and the life - the lie - you fell into without having to wield a persona in front of you.

“It’s his loss, you know,” Ford says from where he lays on the rug on Daria’s other side, the three of you sprawled across their bedroom floor.

“I second that,” Daria says, nudging you with an elbow.

You smile sadly, gaze locked on the popcorn ceiling above you.

“Even if it was all bullshit, I’ve gotta say, I liked having you around. You didn’t take anybody’s shit. It was refreshing,” Ford says. Daria snorts a laugh.

“The holidays will be a thousand times more boring without you,” says Daria.

“Maybe I’ll come back with Robin,” you say. “You can take me out to eat and buy me an ugly sweater.”

“It’s a deal,” Daria says.

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