#i considered putting this under a readmore but it's not as long as it seems
Text
Aware of Abuse AU
Nino in this is a little fascinating to me, cause I can’t see him NOT becoming friends with Adrien. I can see them maybe not being super close, especially at first, but I can’t see them being enemies. But I can also see Nino becoming the first class kid (outside Sabrina, and I’m not sure how she counts) to really GET the rich kid trio, and start trying to make proper friends with them.
Like, Just How I See This In My Head
(sorry to put this under a readmore but it’s a little long)
So, we have the first day shenanigans, who knows what, but we still have a bit of seat drama. Adrien ends up sitting in the front on Chloé’s side, Sabrina and Chloé behind him (protecting him, but shhhhh, that wasn’t on PURPOSE). Which means that there’s an empty seat next to Adrien, and … no one really wants to sit IN FRONT of Chloé. It’s not that they think she’ll DO something, but it Makes most of them uncomfortable. Like, no one’s being explicit about it (except maybe Marinette) but everyone’s reluctant to take that seat. So, Nino decides, “welp, someone’s gotta sit there. New kid doesn’t seem too bad, questionable friends aside” and plops himself down, introduces himself to Adrien.
Like, keep in mind, he’s been in the same class as Chloé for most of his school life, but Nino isn’t someone who’d be much on Chloé radar. He isn’t her friend (Sabrina) or her “obstacle./rival/jealousy-crush (Marinette). He and Chloé probably butted heads a few times, but nothing serious. Plus, she doesn’t mutter (Max) or kick the chair in front of her (Kim). She’s a tolerable seat mate. If it gets bad, well. He has headphones. He can probably just ignore her.
So, like, Nino takes the seat, introduces himself. Adrien starts to light up, because yay! New friend! But Nino probably still asks why he’s friends with Chloé. His light dims a bit. He gets quiet. He’s seen today why he’d ask, but he’s also seen other shit. He’s BEEN through some shit. He’s also been through the WRINGER today, fighting a giant stone monster did a NUMBER on him. He’s TIRED. So Adrien responds in a way he might not normally. "If you knew her, you wouldn’t have to ask.”
Nino’s a bit taken aback - that is a … weirdly solemn, serious response?? vaguely concerning?? - but decides, ok, sure. Why not? That could be a valid point, Nino doesn’t actually know Chloé personally, despite them being in school together most of their lives. She could genuinely be nice to some people. Or she could be a manipulative fuck, again, Nino doesn’t actually know her that well personally. Maybe she’s a decent person to people she considers “worthwhile” or some shit. Maybe she’s brainwashed Adrien like most of the class think she did to Sabrina. Who knows? Not Nino. But he doesn’t have to be a dick about it. If Chloé’s an amazing friend to Adrien, awesome. Maybe he’ll help mellow her out. If she’s actually the Anti-Christ, Nino can hopefully provide an example of a good friend for Adrien to look at and realize he deserves better.
(For the record, Nino does NOT think Chloé is devil spawn, he’s just looking at the two most extreme possibilities in his head)
So, he nods, concedes the point - “Yeah, that’s fair. We don’t really hang.” Adrien lights up a bit more, pleased. They chat a bit, about school, hobbies. (Behind them, Chloé’s in a state of shock, because what??? Someone??? Admitted she might?? Be good?? Not bad?? In a roundabout way, BUT STILL????!?)
So Adrien and Nino are … maybe not FRIENDS right away, but FRIENDLY. They talk. They exchange numbers. Adrien misses a day for a photoshoot, and Nino helps Sabrina take his notes. Nino still mostly hangs out with Marinette, Alya, the rest of the class, but he makes time to hang with Adrien too. At first just them, wandering around Paris, or hanging in his bedroom, but slowly, Nino gets invited to hang with Adrien, Chloé and Sabrina, sometimes Kagami.
And like … It’s awkward. We won’t pretend it’s not. But while Chloé is blunt, sometimes rude, she isn’t going out of her way to be MEAN. Isolated from the environment Nino’s used to seeing her in, it becomes really clear that Chloé just doesn’t have many other ways to interact with the world, and either has difficulty learning, or in a few cases doesn’t see the point. Away from everyone else, she’s also much more friendly to Sabrina - tries to talk her up more, get her to take more agency (maybe … not always in the best way, but she’s TRYING). And like, hanging with her at the mall, and then seeing her in school is a bit of whiplash for behaviour, but like. Now Nino’s SEEN her be a decent person with stunted social skills. He doesn’t think it EXCUSES anything, but like. He no longer buys Marinette’s “Rich Brat, Perfect Life” rant.
I think the big turning point for all of them would be Nino finding out how much their jokes about their parents aren’t exaggerated jokes. They aren’t “this is funny cause it’s ‘out there’” the jokes are “this funny cause it’s true”.
Cause like. At first, Nino honestly believes thats what they are. “The gates of hell would open before my dad threw me a birthday party.” / “I think my mother would fire me, if it wouldn’t look bad for the press.” “Like, fire you from being her daughter, or set you on fire?” “Yes.” / “Do you think my dad would notice if I pierced my ears?” “Oh, absolutely! Can’t have the face of his brand altered without prior agreement!” “True, true. What about you?” “Oh, I could dye my hair a different colour every day for a month and he wouldn’t notice.”
Like, Nino thinks it might just be some weird, rich people thing? It doesn’t help that, like, Adrien and Chloé don’t tend to make that many of those sort of jokes around him. I mean, they might know their parents suck, but they don’t want anyone ELSE to. It’s personal. Other people won’t get it. They don’t want pity. Whatever the reason, they try to keep the jokes on the downlow when hanging out with Nino. So, Nino doesn’t get the full force. A few black humour style jokes like that are … concerning, but Nino doesn’t think they’re, like, full on awful. Maybe a bit “rich parent neglectful” but like. Not bad, right? His friends aren’t in that bad of a situation, right?
I like to think the tipping point is a slip up. Something dramatic, because. I mean. Look at these kids. Drama follows them.
Like, say Nino’s over at Adrien’s. Gabriel is out for the day, which means the two have run of the place. They’re relaxing, playing video games, whatever, when Chloé bursts into the room in tears. Nino’s so shocked he falls off the sofa.
Chloé, however, doesn’t even look at him. No, all her focus is on Adrien, cause GUESS WHAT MUMMY DEAREST DID NOW!? Maybe it was a dinner gone wrong. A gift turned sour. A random argument. But just because Chloé KNOWS her mom is a bitch, doesn’t mean it hurts any less when Audrey demeans her. When she knows which nerves to hit and buttons to press. She’s ranting, sobbing about how, oh, of course she did this, why am I even surprised, I should have expected this, honestly. I knew what she was going to do, why open my big mouth!? It’s ridiculous, utterly-!
Chloé stops. Because she just noticed Nino. Who is having a horrible paradigm shift, realizing oh. Those jokes were NOT exaggerated. His friends’ parents ARE that bad. They DO suck that much.
Chloé’s ready to start falling apart all over again, because god, could she GET any more pathetic, she just spilled her guts in front-! She didn’t even SEE him, why wasnt she more careful-! Adrien is trying to figure out damage control. Nino can see them both panicking, and just says, “We could sell her kneecaps on eBay.”
Chloé & Adrien: “… . what?”
Nino, straight faced: “eBay. I heard kneecaps go for a lot, these days.”
Adrien, after a pause: “Audrey’s though?”
Nino: *shrugs* “I mean, I don’t think we’d get much for them, especially once they’ve been shattered, but I still think we could get SOMETHING.”
More silence.
Nino: “Like … four dollars? I’m pretty sure we could get at LEAST four dollars. Maybe some old, chewed gum. Some dryer lint, if we feel like pushing it.”
Chloé, starting to smile a little: “… Mom has security.”
Nino: “I have a nine-iron, a taser, and six years of parkour. Also, I’m pretty sure Max has access to the dark web, and he owes me a no-questions-asked favour.”
-
Yes!! YES!!!!!
This is the vibes I am imagining!!
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Body Factory (sexclubowner!h)
+
Hellloooo!
It’s been a long while since I posted here. I am still going strong on patreon with 4-5 one shots a month with anywhere from 8 to 14k words usually (sometimes more) + blurbs. I decided to released one of my new tropes, just part one on here and if it sounds good maybe consider joining for $3USD a month to read more parts of this and many others coming up!!!
prompt: yn doesn’t feel fufilled in her relationship and so her fiancé, Arthur, comes up with an idea to help but it doesnt turn out as either of them expected aka sex club owner!h
word count: 8k
warnings: under-negotiation, power play, mean h, choking, safeword, cheating but not really yet
🛑 there is a scene that could potentially be triggering so i am going to put a brief summary at the end of the fic if you’d like to check whether it’s a appropriate read for yourself. 🛑
Author’s Note: I have had this idea on my mind for months and have been so extremely excited to share it with you. It has really really been inspiring to me as I don’t have a trope like this. I hope you enjoy.
++
Arthur was nice.
Arthur was a safe choice.
It’s why when YN’s father introduced them, it didn’t really seem like an option to turn down the invitation to go out to dinner at the swankiest restaurant in town.
The date had been so incredibly unexciting that YN had no doubt that he would not ask for a second one.
They had nothing in common, the space was often filled with an awkward silence, and averted gazes to the walls or out the window next to their seating.
Arthur was nice.
Arthur was polite, he held the door and paid for the bill before walking her to her car with the chaste kiss to her cheek.
It absolutely boggled her mind when her father informed her the next day that Arthur had told her that he had an amazing time and was going to ask her for a second date in the next upcoming days.
YN hated the mere idea of disappointing her parents, she had already let them down enough with her career choice not to join the family business
:readmore:
instead becoming neonatal nurse, despite that being a massive accomplishment, it wasn’t praised because she didn’t go to be a lawyer like both her mother and father.
It felt like most of the time she was on thin ice with her parents because of her education and career choice, even down to the car she drove (they thought it was too sporty and not practical enough) which left her in a precarious position.
She relied on them for help with her student loans.
YN was still trying to get her feet on the ground with her apartment landlord just bumping up her rent by nearly five-hundred pounds, her car note, among all the other things that came with being an adult that she wasn’t financially capable of managing yet.
Her parents agreed to pay for her school loans.
However, it came with silet threat of staying in their good gracious or they would cut her off at any moment, they had threatened it enough when she got into nursing school and informed them that she would be attending, she must have heard them threaten her inheritance half a million times.
Arthur was her ticket back into her parent’s limelight.
He was fresh out of law school but he was incredibly intelligent, good at what he did, and had multiple firms vying for him to join their legal council but he had chosen YN’s family’s business because of their well-known reputation.
Arthur came from old money, which had given him an extremely privileged life and a headstart into success as soon as he was born.
He was the great-grandson of an oil tycoon whom he had reaped the benefits ever since.
The second date happened, then the third, then the fourth.
No spark.
No chemistry.
Atleast on YN’s end because Arthur seemed happy as a clam in their relationship, he praised YN to anyone who would listen, and was consistently bragging about their life to anyone that would listen to him.
He was nice to her.
He remembered important dates, brought her flowers to work, and had dinner made when she walked in the door on nights that she worked late shifts and he got home before her.
Time passes and they celebrate their first year anniversary, then their second, then their third.
On the fourth was when he got down on one knee and professed his love to her in front of all their family and friends on Christmas Day at an extravagant party at his parent’s estate.
The diamond ring that he slid onto her finger was ridiculous, too big to not just be flaunting wealth, and it wasn’t a style that she liked but she lied and told him that she loved it.
There was an emptiness in her chest when he proposed, she was teary-eyed but she couldn’t determine whether it was from happiness or dread that she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man in front of her.
It wasn’t his fault in the slightest.
Arthur was just Arthur.
He lacked depth, there was nothing behind his twinkling brown eyes beside law, money, and judgement.
Arthur treated her nicely consistently, they barely ever fought, and he never raised his voice at her.
When he got frustrated, he just got an exasperated tone and took time to himself in his office until he had calmed down enough to talk.
But that was once in a blue moon.
They’ve never had a blow-out because he was so agreeable and accommodating.
That’s exactly what was missing from their relationship.
YN didn’t crave toxicity, not one bit, she wanted a healthy relationship with positive communication, understanding, and all the things that make that up.
YN did crave excitement, humor, sexual tension, and the type of relationship that kept her on her toes, got her adrenaline pumping and making her stomach turn in nervous knots because she didn’t always know what to expect out of her partner.
Arthur was as predictable as a clock, had no spontaneity up his sleeve, and his sense of humor was nonexistent.
YN had a partner that she’d been with in college named Klein.
He wasn’t the love of her life, not by a long shot, but he had been wild, on the edge of insane half-of-the-time, and always kept their relationship exciting.
He would show up at her part-time cafe job, with a fake excuse to her boss about a death in his family, and he needed her support.
When YN would walk out to his motorcycle with him, concerned about his grandmother’s death, he would only smile at her, inform her that his grandmother has been dead for fifteen years, and that he was going to take her on a hike to see a waterfall she’d mentioned wanting to see once in passing.
But then there was their sex life, it was phenomenal and unlike the few half-hapzard experience she had before him.
He was confident, dominant, and introduced her to things that she used to not even have the nerve to say out loud let alone do.
It was him who introduced her to BDSM and they explored it for nearly two and a half years of their relationship.
YN did research while they were together and after the fact, she had even attended a few virtual training sessions to learn about correct techniques, safety precautions, and learning the dynamic of power play which engrossed her to no end.
However, when Klein requested they open their relationship, that had been such an unexpected turn-off that she no longer felt the connection that was there before.
The end of the relationship was amicable, they were still friends on social media and liked each others posts but it was at that point they realized they wanted different things and they couldn’t provide that to one another.
Where Klein wanted flexibility, uncertainty, and fluidity.
YN wanted regimen, structured, and a deep sense of connection with one person.
She did not want multiple doms nor did she want her dom to have multiple submissives.
She wanted all the attention on her, her dom would be absolutely captivated by her and be so connected to her physically, mentally, spiritually that they only want her.
Her ideal dom would never mention sharing.
Which isn’t to shame it because it was more common than not to have an open relationship, partner sharing, and swapping.
YN loved the idea of becoming comfortable with someone enough that she could be a brat which she wasn’t an easy submissive she had come to learn.
Her dominant had to work for her submission, sometimes she crumbled quickly and other times it took multiple punishments until the smirk was wiped from her face and replaced with tears on her puffy cheeks from the pinpricks of pain.
After Klein, she had gone on a few dates, some she even hooked up with but she never clicked enough with them to talk about anything like that.
And so she wrapped it up into a nice, neat box and tucked it into the back of her mind because she would find the right partner who would be compatible sexually with her.
Right?
Arthur and her had no sexual chemistry.
Arthur was just as polite in the bedroom as he was outside of it, he never put her in a unique position, and preferred to rotate between the missionary and doggy style.
He would occasionally go down on her but he didn’t know what he was doing so it didn’t feel like much of anything as most of the time he couldn’t even locate her clit.
Which meant fingering was out of the question because he didn’t even know the g-spot existed.
Anytime she managed to orgasm, it was from her own hand, getting herself off because she was past the point of asking him to try to do it.
Arthur did not have a high sex drive and YN felt guilty for being thankful for it.
He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was trying, and it was so unsatisfying that YN felt like her skin itched sometimes because she hadn’t realized until Arthur how much she craved sexual intimacy with her significant other.
Again, Arthur initiated once a week, sometimes twice or sometimes not for a few weeks when his work is really busy.
YN was six years into a relationship of unfilled desire, disconnect, and a lack of satisfaction which she would have never seen for herself at only being twenty-nine years old.
The wedding was set for fourteen months away, at a vineyard on the coast of Italy.
It was decided by everyone but her as with most things she felt like nowadays.
++
YN had been scrolling through a blog post when something caught her eye.
It was written by a female who had a similar lack of connection with her partner in the bedroom but wanted more.
The writer had described that as soon as she asked if they could experiment with BDSM that their relationship had completely shifted, they were more in love than ever, and their sex life was more amazing than it had been in nearly a decade.
It was the motivation that YN needed to have the conversation with Arthur, with the hope that it would ignite a flame that had yet to be struck between the two of them.
YN loved Arthur, she wanted to be in love with him but she couldn’t honestly say she was at this point in their relationship.
Arthur had been surprised by the conversation, over dinner one night, if the way he sputtered red wine onto his crisp white button-up was an indicator.
His eyes had gone wide in a look of almost horror and he cleared his throat a handful of times while they discussed it in more detail.
“I just feel like it would be something fun to try out,” YN tries to keep it casual, to not let on to how much she desired this or knew that she would already love it.
“Erm, yeah. I would be open to it,” Arthur had agreed sheepishly, putting down his fork and knife.
“No, I do not want you to feel pressured at all! I just -” YN begins to try to soothe because she had not meant to get such a reaction of concern more than lust out of her fiance.
He chuckles kindly, smiling at her as he reaches across the table to hold her hand, “We can try it, if that’s what you want. I am open to whatever will make you happy, sweetie pie.”
Sweetie pie….
YN tried not to blatantly cringe every time he called her that.
++
It did not work out.
They did not even get a few minutes into foreplay when Arthur backed out, saying that he just didn’t feel like he knew what to do, and that he’d prefer if they just did their normal thing.
YN agreed, trying to swallow the disappointed lump in her throat because she didn’t want to guilt him in to trying anything he wasn’t into.
They didn’t discuss it again after that for a long while.
++
Arthur wasn’t blind to the shift after that night.
He now knew that he was not satisfying a need that YN desired and she had just seemed more subdued since he had called it off but was trying to hide it because he knew that she wasn’t trying to make him feel bad about not wanting it.
It had been on his mind though.
++
“A sex club?” YN’s eyes nearly buldge from her sockets, puting down her glass of water and ignoring the splashes it leaves on her hand because what had Arthur just recommended they try?
“Yes. A BDSM club or a kink club they call it. Maybe if I see other people doing it or we get into the right atmosphere, it will work better. At least off the start?” Arthur seems just as nervous as her, he hadn’t touched his food.
“And…I just…” YN was at a loss for words because this is just the most unexpected turn of events.
“Maybe I can learn from others. Really get good at it for you, you know?” He suggests, his eyes looking anywhere but at hers.
“Yeah, yeah let’s do it.”
++
The Body Factory was the club that Arthur had decided after doing his research.
He needed somewhere secretive, exclusive, and with iron-clad NDA’s so that no one could use this against him in his profession which was fair enough.
That’s where The Body Factor came into play.
There were guidelines to a membership:
You must make over a hundred-and-fifty thousand pounds a year.
You were sign and resign an NDA every three months.
A deposit of ten thousand pounds, it will not be refunded if any rules or regulations are broken.
You will send in health screenings every two months, proof of birth control (if female), and a background check.
You may not belong to any other clubs during the time of your membership at The Body Factory.
YN was quite shocked that Arthur had dished out that amount of money on the deposit for something that they weren’t sure that they were going to like nor want to continue to visit even though the membership spans for a year at a time.
“If we go, hate it, and decide to never go back, just consider it a really expensive date night,” Arthur had assured her with a chuckle, she knew of his wealth but even this seemed a bit like frivolous spending but little did she know it was just his desperation to make her happy.
++
The club was in the packing district of all places, tucked back in between massive factories, some that were still open and operating, others that had been abandoned for years now.
It was actually in an old clothing factory that had been renovated to resemble any other high-end club, from the inside there would be no way that anyone could even tell except for the incredibly high ceilings at some points.
However, the location in the city and of building choice gave a lot of privacy of entering and exiting, it wasn’t advertised nor did it have any sign indicating of their presence.
It was a maze of alleyways until the entrance appeared, a dingy door that was rusted and gave no indication of what was inside, someone walking past would have never looked twice or thought anything of the building nor the entrance.
Everything was matte black, dark, and dimmed.
There were occasional deep emerald green accents but everything was sleek, modern, and simple but in the most elegant way as they walked in.
YN’s heart was in her throat.
Where people going to be fucking right when they walk in?
Or people being led around on leashes right off the bat?
Arthur may pass out.
However, there’s a front desk, almost like at an office with a woman dressed in a incredibly fitted sleek black dress with smooth, curled hair, and makeup like it was done by a professional, she had to be a model because she was gorgeous as she smiled widely and checked them in.
They had to show their licenses, hand over physical copies of their screenings, NDA’s even though they had to sign them virtually too.
There were two security guards in black suits with earpieces standing by large, heavy dark oak doors with their hands crossed in front of them.
This seemed like a movie or just not real with how sophisticated this whole process was.
“Enjoy,” Penelope, the receptionist had chirped with the whitest, most perfect smile she’d ever seen.
Arthur seemed a bit awestruck for a moment and YN couldn’t even fault him for it.
The two guards move aside to open the doors, nodding for them to go in before closing them firmly behind them.
YN finds herself reaching for Arthur’s hand, nervous and shaky with new experience anxiety and adrenaline that she was finally getting back into what she wanted even more so.
There were people mingling, sipping on drinks, and all fully clothed.
It wasn’t until Arthur informed her, “Play starts at ten, the first hour is to introduce, mingle, meet.”
Ah, that makes sense.
It almost builds the tension, YN feels like she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.
They walk over to the bar, another beautiful women greets them right away, laying a napkin down in front of both of them, “Newbies?”
“Yes,” Arthur nods, pointing to himself first, “I’m Arthur, this is YN, my fiance.”
The bartender quirks an eyebrow as she not-so-subtly scans them, “Nice to meet you two. I’m Raven. I bartend Friday through Sunday here. What are you drinking?”
“A moscow mule,” YN asks, maybe some alcohol will loosen her nerves.
“It’s a dry club, babe,” Raven smiles patiently as her long fingernails click against the smooth surface.
“Oh,” YN replies in surprise, looking behind her at the shelves only to see syrups for flavoring but no actual liquor bottles or draft taps to be seen, “A sprite?”
“Water, please,” Arthur adds as he rubs YN’s thigh, squeezing it in reassurance, “I forgot to tell you. No alcohol here. Everybody needs to be sober when playing.”
“That makes sense,” YN hums in agreement, never having actually thought about it much, but it could definitely get cloudy on consent when alcohol was being consumed in regards to playing which was a dangerous and unsafe mixture.
They sit, observed for a few minutes before a few people begin to flock towards them, greeting them and asking surface level questions until there’s a deep, almost eerie chime that echoes for a long moment through the club over the soft jazz.
It was signifying that the clock had struck ten.
Everyone quickly wraps up their conversations before moving to different areas of the rooms, some disappearing down hallways.
The atmosphere had changed significantly in a very quick spurt of time as people started undressing, kissing, moving as if they’d just gotten permission.
There was a couple of the couch across the room that Athur and YN were observing from their barstools.
The two started out slow, sensual, like any normal couple behind close doors but when the woman knots her hair into her partner’s hair and demands his mouth move lower, he obliges and Arthur gasps softly at the roughness displayed.
YN’s been aroused for the last five minutes of watching them but doesn’t make an effort to act on it, not yet atleast, and once the couple move so that the man is laying on the couch, the woman kneeling over his face, it changes her vantage point but it catches on something else.
In the corner, further back into the room, there was a man sitting in the corner where there was barely any lighting, dim and his goal was to obviously stay in the background.
No one was approaching him nor was he interacting with anyone else.
YN knew there was a no phone policy but this man was sat, scrolling boredly through his phone and only occasionally glancing up to observe the people in action around him before eyes dart back down like it wasn’t entertaining at all.
He wasn’t aroused, at least from what YN could see, and he was in a tight, well-fitted suit but his dress shirt was barely buttoned, open enough to show the definition of his pectoral muscles, the sharpness of his collarbones, and a variety of darkly inked tattoos.
He was fucking beautiful.
YN realizes she oogling him but can get away with it because it appears to Arthur that she’s still watching the couple like he is.
However, when the man looks up after a few moments once again, his eyes are instantly locked on YN.
She can’t tell what color they are from here but she knows they’re light, twinkling under the barely there light of a sconce on the wall and it’s smouldering as he doesn’t blink nor waver with embarrassment of being caught staring at her.
YN quickly diverted her eyes back to the couple, her heart was pounding, and a sense of thrill shot up her spine even though it was inappropriate.
She wasn’t here for new partners.
She was here to learn and explore with her own.
YN tries to play it casual when Raven refills the drink she nervously chugged, “Why does that guy have his phone?”
Raven’s eyes darted to the man before grinning, “That’s Harry. He’s the owner, my boss. He supervises the free play.”
“Free play?”
“Out in the common area, it’s considered free play. If you claim a room, you are in private play with whatever partners you bring back there. Harry just makes sure everything stays safe and consensual out here. He gets bored though and plays Candy Crush on his phone.”
YN cracks her own smile at that, trying to imagine the man trying to get rid of sugary sweets and getting frustrated when he loses a round.
“Does he not play?” Arthur asks curiously, now his attention has changed to Harry as well.
“Not often,” Raven informs them, leaning her elbow on the counter, “I can’t remember the last time he did. I’d say at least seven years ago, at least in the free play but he doesn’t reserve rooms or anything. He made it clear that he doesn’t find at least any of the current members interesting enough to engage with.”
“That’s interesting, considering he must have an interest in it, if this is his club,” Arthur replies to Raven before turning back to the scene of the couple, another member had joined the couple and was currently giving the male some startling rough looking bruised kisses and bites to his stomach and thighs.
Arthur was getting aroused by the look and feel of it, he reached over and brazenly took her hand, and led her to his groin where he was hard in his trousers, encouraging her to palm over him which she did as she tried to get into it.
This…This atmosphere, these people, they excited her.
Arthur still did not.
They manage to get to a couch, Arthur appears to be getting so turned on that foreplay isn’t in his realm of ideas because he’s hiking up YN’s dress around her hips and positioning her on top of him which is a new position (in all six years they’ve never done cowgirl) but still, her arousal is barely boiling above surface level.
YN licks her palm, reaching down to help moisten herself because Arthur was not doing anything to spark her to get wet.
It was actually making her more distressed that despite the scenario, she still didn’t feel the connection to her fiancé.
When she slides down, it’s fine, he was an average size so even without much lubrication, it didn’t feel like a stretch or burn when she started to move her hips but it wasn’t as pleasant as if she was sopping, dripping down her thighs.
Arthur glances to the side at one point, noticing that the male from the throuple was now pounding into the original partner with his had tight around her throat, pushing her further into the couch without mercy as she tried to whine through stutter breaths.
YN felt like she was being watched the entire time, which of course she was being watched by other members but it felt different, when she blinks around and notices that Harry has his gaze honed in on her with a twisted scowl of almost disapproval, it confuses her.
However, she’s brought back into the moment when Arthur pants out, “Can- I want to try that.”
When YN follows his gaze, he’s referring to the choking, and yeah, maybe that will light that match.
“Okay, yeah,” YN agrees as she brushes her hair off of her shoulders, wishing he would have taken this dress off of her instead of shoving it upwards where it felt confining.
Arthur smiles at her, leaning up to give her a chaste kiss which didn’t match their situation whatsoever that they were in at the moment.
YN was feeling anxious about the judgment other members might put onto them but not because she cared that people watched but because she knew Arthur and her were nowhere nearly as fluid, practiced, or elegant as the other members whom seemed to just melt into one another easily.
Arthur had never tried it before but his hand came up to her throat, he’s getting close to his own release which means that he’s not as focused, eyes getting a glazed over appearance.
YN soon realizes that he has no idea what he’s doing as he begins to cut off her airway by cupping her throat in the center instead of at the sides.
It hurts, she can’t breathe but not the way that feels tingly, excited, it feels like he could quite possibly suffocate her because of his carelessness.
They had talked about proper methods and he clearly hadn’t retained that information.
A few black dots begin to dance across her line of vision and her body starts to trigger a flight or fight response which she wants to use her safe word but she can’t speak.
YN takes to dig her nails into his hand but he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not out of lust.
A true fear begins to take hold that something horrible will happen to her in less than a minute.
He’s truly going to injure her.
YN is in a full-fledged panic induced state.
Then suddenly, without warning, a strong arm is being wrapped around her middle and a big, ring-clad hand grips Arthur where it was around her neck so hard he yelps in pain and releases his grip.
The person is physically lifting YN off of Arthur’s lap, trying to steady her on her feet but they feel like jello and she feels light-headed, the room wouldn’t stop spinning.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” The person’s voice is deep, raspy, and incredibly pissed off, “What the fuck is your problem?”
YN can’t even bring herself to look at Arthur right now, her full support into Harry’s side as she notices the two securities guards walking in.
“C’mon, let me sit you down. You’re okay but I want to check you out, alright? Yeah, c’mon, pet,” He encourages in a much softer tone, gentle and trying to comfort me as she struggles to catch her breath.
It takes a long second to realize that she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, and fuck, she is so embarassed as every other member had stopped playing.
“We’re done for the night. We’ll re-open tomorrow at the normal hours of operation,” Harry announces to the room at large before looking to Raven, “Go close down the private rooms.”
Raven nods, no longer as smiley and bubbling but an expression of concern as she watches what’s going on with YN.
“Hey, darling. Can you tilt your head up?” Harry asks quietly once he sits her down in the same corner that he had been in, away from the group.
YN whines because her neck is aching, she doesn’t want to do anything as the drop in adrenaline has made her more exhausted than she’s felt in a long time.
“I know, I know,” Harry simpers in an unpredictably cooing tone, he taps his thumb on her chin to signal her to tilt it up and she obliges.
Harry prods gently at her neck, focusing on the center where the pressure has been, “Any sharp pains? Anything feel off or wrong like you need to go to the hospital?”
YN shakes her head, a fresh round of tears.
She knew that she wasn’t injured or seriously hurt.
YN felt more traumatized mentally than anything else.
“I need words, want to hear your pretty voice,” Harry orders in a honey sweet tone, eyes hyper-focused on her like they were in the beginning of the night.
His eyes were green.
Close to the accent color of the club.
“I’m okay,” YN manages to speak out, throat dry and scratchy.
Raven appears with a glass of water to hand to Harry before giving them their space again.
YN is about to reach for the glass but Harry is already moving it towards her lips for her, “Drink f’me.”
It’s strangely intimate as he tilts the glass, eyes watching her carefully and a sense of guilt sets in that she likes that Harry is tending to her, giving her his full attention.
“Is this a common occurrence? Between you two?”Harry doesn’t sound as kind anymore, his jaw muscle twitches slightly.
“Um, no. We came here to explore. I’m very much into this world and he isn’t. He’s told me he’s done his research in his free time but -“
“You’re telling me that you’ve never negotiated nor tried something like this and he full fledge tries choking?” Harry interrupts, outraged from where he stands up from squatting in front of her, “Did you ask or plan for that?”
YN shakes her head, a bit embarrassed that she was coming off as an amateur to someone…she felt an attraction to, felt intimidated by, and Arthur had ruined their experience here.
“No. We tried spanking a few times but he backed out. We were just supposed to come here to watch others so he could visual what all this looked like before putting it into action-“
Harry doesn’t let her finish as he storms away from her, his glare set right on Arthur who was sheepishly sitting back at the bar and nursing a drink as Raven talked to him.
YN’s heart rate starts to rise again when Arthur tenses, clearly being chewed out by Harry before her fiancé gets off his barstool and follows the club owners lead down the hallway.
YN rushes to the bar, Raven is already pouring her another sprite, “Calm down. He’s not going to hurt him or anything. They just need to have a discussion on whether or not Harry will revoke his membership.”
It feels ruined and it never even started.
All she can think about is that despite for a short amount of time she was getting what she asked from Arthur, there was still no god damn spark.
After a good half hour, the bar phone rings and Raven answers, murmuring a few words back into the receiver before having up.
“I’m going to take you back to his office now.”
++
Harry’s office was just as luxe, elegant as the rest of the club.
It was tense as soon as she stepped in the room and Raven left, closing the door behind her.
“I’ve decided not to revoke your joint membership after discussion with Arthur. However, there are contingencies if you would like to continue coming here. Are you willing to hear them? Arthur has already agreed to the terms.”
YN nods slowly, voice soft, “Yes.”
Harry keeps his face on her as he speaks, “I do not tolerate what happened here tonight in my club. Arthur has clearly proven that he isn’t educated enough to be able to have free access to the club and free play.”
“If you want to continue membership, Arthur will need to reserve a private room and lessons will be held until he fully grasps the concepts, displays understanding, and can play safely without supervision.”
“Who…Do you have instructors?” YN doesn’t think she wants another man involved in their sex life even in an educational aspect.
“Yes but I will be teaching the lessons,” Harry informs her, calm as ever, “I bring this up because I would need to be hands on, to demonstrate and display certain practice, power play dynamics but that is a lot to ask as I do not know your limits on sharing.”
YN’s speaking before she even realizes it, “Yes. We can do that.”
Harry’s lip quirks slightly before it disappears but it oddly enough seems like a reward.
“We can schedule. I will send the paperwork. I already have your questionnaires about hard limits, likes, dislikes, and willing to try. I want to make this clear, this will be purely educational and there will be no dynamic developing between me and you two.”
YN nods dumbly, at a loss for words because the mere thought of Harry domming her was a lick of a flame that she’d been missing so much.
“I will dom you with instructions interwoven for Arthur. We will try to keep everything minimal as I cannot stress enough that this is not anything but informative on my end to help improve your sex life as a couple.”
++
Three longs weeks pass before their first ‘lesson’.
Arthur voiced excitement about the instruction, never brought up the choking incident again, and never initiated any type of sex during this time either.
Everything was swept under the rug as usual in their relationship.
YN would never admit the fact that she had gotten herself off to the mere idea of Harry domming her because something about him had triggered something carnal, something near feral in her.
It’s more than she had even felt with Klein.
She knew it wouldn’t last forever but she was going to enjoy this to the best of her abilities.
++
YN only had excited nerves going into the night.
Harry had inquired more in the break of time about YN’s experience and was extremely pleased to realize that she wasn’t as much of a novice as he assumed.
Though she hadn’t experienced many partners or relationships within the community, her knowledge was expansive and deep enough to impress him.
Harry had texted her back with a simple message that had her core tingling enough that she had to rub her thighs together.
YN: Thank you for continuously checking in on my comfort and experience regarding these situations. I have many more concerns for Arthur as we’ve already discussed. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!
Harry Styles: I do not plan to go easy on you. Unless you specifically want soft play for these experiences. I can be a softer dominant but my main modality is firm, mean, regimented with softer aftercare.
YN: You don’t scare me. ;)
She was already being bratty with him.
It sent a wave of good nerves through her as she waited for a reply to be sent to her inbox.
Harry Styles: It’s interesting that you’ve already started to decide to be bad for me when you don’t even know what I’m capable of, darling.
YN : I’m shaking.
YN: Terrified.
Harry Styles: I wish I could wrap my fingers around your throat right now. Show your fiancé the proper way to choke a god damn brat.
YN could feel herself pooling with arousal.
It felt a bit wrong but she reasoned enough with herself that it was all for the greater good of her relationship with Arthur but deep down she knew that was bullshit.
YN: You’re probably not much better.
Harry Styles: Quite honestly, haven’t worked with such a fucking disobedient bitch in a long time. I cannot wait to break you. A kitten who thinks they’re a big bad tiger.
YN: Fuck you.
Harry Styles: Kitty’s got claws.
Harry Styles: For now…
It felt bordering on inappropriate but YN reasoned again that Harry had made it clear that there isn’t anything happening, it is a strictly professional as a type of situation like this can be.
++
Saturday has come and YN wakes up to a text.
Harry Styles: Better wear something cute enough that I find you interesting enough to play with. Even if it’s just to teach.
YN rereads the message quite a few times and why is he so good at getting under her skin and she doesn’t even know him yet but it’s like he knows exactly how to wind her up.
YN: Black dress with tights.
Harry Styles: It’s good to know that you’re just another basic bitch.
YN: What will you be wearing then?
Harry Styles: That’s none of your fucking business. I call the shots, kitty. Not you.
YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕
Harry Styles: Good to know. Five spanks for the five emojis. Would you like to keep going?
She can’t even help herself
YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕
Harry Styles: Noted.
YN wants to reply, knowing he’s probably waiting but a tiny sliver of guilt starts to creep in when she thinks about Arthur because though she’s trying to convince herself this is perfectly fine.
It’s not.
Not with the emotions it makes her feel.
She hasn’t felt them in so long.
It scares her.
“Sweetie pie, are you having second thoughts? Should be getting ready,” Arthur steps out of the walk-in closet, adjusting the sleeve of his button up.
“No!” YN replies much too quickly, her tone high pitch, “Um, I lost track of time. I’ll get ready now.”
“Okay, I’m excited for this new experience with you,” He smiles sweetly, stepping over to press a kiss to her forehead.
It’s affectionate, loving, and she’s still thinking of other things than her fiancé.
++
YN decides on a black wide leg trouser with a corseted bodysuit that gave her tits the perfect push-up, she’s spray a very thin most of body glitter on her chest, she knew it would sparkle in the dim lighting.
She considered wearing the dress and tights to spite him but whatever, she’d be less easy access for him.
++
Arthur held her hand tightly as they entered The Body Factory.
YN was already searching for Harry, barely waving to Raven as Arthur leads them over but she doesn’t want a drink, she wants to play.
However her fiancé guide her to a stool, ordering for both of them as Raven has a look of curiosity as she slides them in front of him.
“Does he come out and get us?” Arthur asks Raven, looking around he doesn’t see him either.
Raven bites her lip, shaking her head with a chuckle, “No, I take you to your reserved room when ten hits.”
“What is it?” YN asks, unable to read what is going on the bartender's mind.
This conversation didn’t seem particularly funny.
“Nothing really. Harry just hasn’t offered private lessons for at least eight or nine years. Normally when couples have an incident like you did, Harry revoked their memberships without a second thought,” Raven informs them as she picks at a spot on the smooth surface of the bar absentmindedly.
“Why us?” YN wonders out loud, why after all that time did he make an exception.
“I wish I knew,” The bartender shrugs neutrally.
++
The deep chime rings out about forty-five minutes later.
YN cannot decipher whether she wants to throw up or jump up and down with excitement.
Especially when Raven guides them down a long hallway, then into another corridor until they reach a door with a sign that warns, “No members past this point. Private access only.”
“Um-“ Arthur goes to point out the sign, he was a rule follower to his core.
“It’s Harry’s private playroom that members can’t use but again, this is special circumstances,” Raven’s voice is hushed as she leads them into a surprisingly minimal room.
There were cabinets built sleekly into the walls where all toys and accessories must be held, a matte black.
Everything matched but there was a bigger prominence of the green accents that were more subtle in the main areas.
The play bench hardware matches everything else but the cushion is a luxe emerald.
The bed was…unlike anything she had ever seen.
It was massive but fit well in the spacious room.
High posts on all four corners with subtle hooks to place restraints in.
The mattress looked fluffy and giving, it looked as if the sheets were a black silk but the duvet was a very muted pattern of black and green diamonds.
YN was in love with space.
It was so much more than she was expecting.
“Holy shit,” Arthur gapes at the elegance, clearly he had been expecting something different too.
“Okay, when Harry comes in, he will already be in the dom headspace and so he wants me to give you reminders. Harry will respect your hard limits as he’s reviewed them before the session. You have received a list of his so please do the same.”
“Just as you can safeword out at any time without consequences, Harry can as well. He will use the same ‘red’ if need be and will check your colors throughout to ensure safe play.”
“For this first lesson, Arthur you will sit and observe. Harry will display a safe, typical scene of play to understand what that looks like with whatever kind of submissive YN is. You may also use your safeword at any time to stop the play.”
YN swallows because would he allow that?
Surprisingly, Arthur’s face is still clear and happy as he starts to walk over to an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and smiles at YN, “Can’t wait.”
YN raises a shocked eyebrow at his willingness but nods at Raven to show she understands.
++
They’re silent as they wait for Harry.
She wasn’t given instruction and because she was a bit nervous, she perched herself on Arthur’s lap as he rubbed her thigh and kissed her shoulder blades occasionally.
Then there’s a shuffle outside the door, the door knob twisting and the door opening.
Harry looked ethereal.
He wasn’t wearing a tailored suit like before but leather boots with a bit of a heel, form-fitting jeans that make his lean quads look biteable, and a plain black shirt.
His arms had even more beautiful ink than YN realized.
After Harry closes the door, his eyes lock on hers, not even acknowledging her fiancé’s presence.
“Stand up,” Harry orders loudly, a bit startling.
YN obeys instantly, her heart was pounding in her eardrums like waves of the choppy ocean.
A cruel smirk tilts on his lips when he scans her up and down.
“Did I strike a nerve, pet? This isn’t a black dress and tights. Are you already starting off so insecure? And you think you can handle me. What a cute, pathetic little kitten,” His voice is venomous, steady, and she’s clinging onto every word.
Arthur’s clearly confused but stays silent.
“I’m not pathetic,” YN argues shakily, it felt dangerous to get bratty so soon but it was her submissive profile and character, it came naturally.
Harry quirks a brow, “Sir.”
YN gives him her own confused look.
“I’m not pathetic, sir. Every time you speak, try again.”
“I’m not pathetic,” YN bleats easily, a flutter of her eyelashes.
Harry smiles like a goddamn wolf.
“Oh, you’re not? Let’s test that theory,” Harry draws as he takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, “Come to me.”
YN stands up, on wobbly legs, and begins to but is stopped in her tracks by his hard voice.
“Hands and knees. Crawl for me, I want to show your fiancé how pathetic you are for me,” Harry has a humor, an evil sense of it.
YN drops to her hands and knees, nearly panting already, and begins to move.
++
summary of triggering scene: YN’s fiance chokes her and though it’s completely consensual he doesn’t know what he’s doing and almost hurts her. YN cannot safeword out at the time but harry stops the scene.
#harry styles writing#harry styles#harry styles masterlist#harrystyles#harry styles boyfriend#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fic#harry styles one shot#harry smut#harry styles fanfic#harrystylesfanfic#fan fic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles au#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#patreon
713 notes
·
View notes
Text
hypothesis on the ethnic/cultural background of izutsumi's mom
[disclaimer: i am not a professional ethnographer, nor of any of the ethnic groups mentioned in the post. this post was written based on research done over the course of a day.
if you have any corrections, feedback, etc, please feel free to inform me! my inbox/dms are open. if there is any misinformation present, i aim to correct them]
----------
idk if anyone else into dungeon meshi has noticed this, but i think izutsumi's mom (and therefore, izutsumi herself) might've been of Nivkh (indigenous east Siberian) heritage?
[details and explanation under the readmore, its slightly long]
when dungeon meshi chapter 59 came out (~2019), i saw a few people speculating that izutsumi's mom might've been Ainu because of how her clothing style notably differed from typical Japanese clothing.
while the Nivkh robe's trim features a different pattern style (swirly) than what izutsumi's mom wears (triangular), the Nivkh robe still looks to be a closer match than Ainu robes, especially in the collar/neckline & sleeve cuff areas.
note how the Ainu robes (image 2) have a different neckline style and wider sleeves:
heres more images of the robes, but from the past this time, found in Wikimedia Commons:
image 1: Nivkh robe from 1871
image 2: Sakhalin Ainu girl (left), Nivkh boy (center), Hokkaido Ainu girl (right) in 1912
Nivkh people have had interactions with Japan dating back centuries too. heres an exerpt from wikipedia:
"For many centuries, the Nivkh were tributaries of the Manchus. After the Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689, they functioned as intermediaries between the Russians, Manchu and Japanese, and also the Ainu, who were vassals of the Japanese. Early contact with the southern Sakhalin Ainu was generally hostile, although trade between the two was apparent"
(sorry historians for quoting wikipedia as a source here. a lot of the more reputable sources are 20-200+ page papers, and not concise enough to put on a tumblr post)
the English language wiki doesnt have much more detail on Nivkh-Japan relations unfortunately, but there seems to be more info on the Japanese language version of the page.
i've also seen at least 1 speculation that izutsumi's mom might be Mongolian, as her robe somewhat resembles a Mongolian deel. in my opinion, the robe's neckline trim having patterning makes it resemble the Nivkh robes more. this – combined with the fact that prior to the 1900s, Japan-Mongolia relations consisted mostly of Mongolian forces trying to invade japan repeatedly – makes me think Nivkh (or some other indigenous east Siberian) heritage is more likely.
i wont rule it out entirely though, as i don't know how much Ryōko Kui cares about historical-based cultural relations. regardless, here are various deel styles across different Mongolian ethnic groups, if that is of interest to anyone:
i dont really have a profound conclusion for this post tbh. i wanted to document what i found, and figured i might as well share it to tumblr.
theres limited amounts of easily accessible information on traditional eastern Siberian clothing out there, but here's 1 source i found that goes over a few groups (including Nivkh):
#dungeon meshi#izutsumi#delicious in dungeon#izutsumi dungeon meshi#ryoko kui#kui ryoko#mynn.txt#cross-posting this from the tweet thread i made at like 5am. but with more grammatical edits and more detailed info#my first 'formal' theory post i hope its not too bad lol
282 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok, ok, so incoming ramble about the Glamrocks that I keep thinking about under the readmore!
Disclaimer: I can’t promise too much structure to this since I’m just putting some thoughts down, but hopefully it’s still an enjoyable read or something to think about ghfdkñkjgh
—
SO!
A while ago, when I was first planning my first ever fic for SB (which has been thoroughly planned but not written and I haven’t talked about it here at all but that’s! Beside the point!), I started really wondering how the glitch/virus worked (I will keep referring to it as virus as I think it fits a bit more).
And I was so happy that the DLC seemed to be in line with what I was thinking or at the very least it supports my headcanon in a way!
(And oh gosh this is gonna take setting the scene a bit at first so bear with me)
So, I’d like to make a note first of all, that I’m not entirely convinced Glitchtrap is gone, because the end to the princess quest 3 minigame means Vanessa gets freed from possession (via opening the door). There is not a fight with him as a boss that seems to deactivate or get rid of him once and for all, at least. But what happened to him is entirely guesswork on my part. Also, while the DLC implies very strongly that all the other endings are not canon and more stories Gregory drew himself, there are still elements from those endings that I feel cannot be discarded, and they help understand the story. (The blob does exist after all and that is only discovered in the Burntrap ending, and it is my belief that the friend that has the schematics for the underground mentioned by Gregory must be Vanessa, because Freddy seems to have only vague recollections of the place when Vanessa had him clear the way for her before, and also he is not capable of accessing all areas of even the main pizzaplex)
(Also, I squint a little wondering if they changed their minds on which ending was the true ending because the Burntrap ending is the one that has animated cutscenes and a cgi ending image. I actually like that Princess Quest is the canon ending now, since Vanessa gets to be free, but it does come with some inconsistencies. But anyways!!!)
So taking all of that into account! To me, the way the virus works, and considering that there must be a supernatural element to it due to the existence of Glitchtrap, has to do a lot with it locking away the “consciousness” of the animatronics. Much like in the way Vanessa’s true self was locked away actually! In past games, the animatronics only seemed to act outside of their programming due to possession of some kind, but these specific ones seem to actually have self-awareness. I have no doubt that the way they were programmed influences their personality, but the DLC has really emphasized that they are not actually just limited to their functions.
They have true intelligence! Not a surprise, since Freddy was clearly self-aware since SB, but I like that it seems to be a confirmation of it being the case in general and not just an exception. And I believe this because there are animatronics that are able to snap out of it after Cassie interacts with them. They do seem to think things are normal like any day in the pizzaplex, at first (Eclipse and Roxy) and it would seem like this means they are not truly sentient, but considering that Sun was aware all this time that things were very wrong, and that Moon would attack Cassie if not rebooted, and that Roxy later awakens, realizes the danger and goes to rescue Cassie from the Mimic, makes it clear to me that their self-awareness is the real deal.
So not only would the virus have to infiltrate the robot’s systems, but it also would have to fight against the “consciousness” of the animatronics to gain control. While we know the Burntrap ending didn’t happen, I think when we see Burntrap trying to take over Freddy is a good visual representation of what might have happened over a long span to the other animatronics.
Ok, ok so! With all that said (again gfkjh)! I’m getting to the main point of this post, which is that I cannot stop thinking about the little backstory we got for Monty and what might have happened with Bonnie!
The damaged model of Bonnie we find in Ruin makes it clear to me that yes, it must have been Monty the one who destroyed him. The scratch grooves that join with the hole in his chest do match with the marks we have seen on other spots, (I thiiink Monty’s room has them), and we know the claws are the characteristic associated with Monty.
(And here I make a sidenote acknowledging some buts, because I went back to read the SB messages, and according to those, Monty only received the upgraded claws to play the bass, which means Bonnie was already gone by then. One of the messages states clearly that Monty received modifications only after being moved to the position of bassist, when Bonnie was out of commission, so either Monty already had really strong claws or it's a bit of an oversight there, but I digress!)
But! Even with that clear evidence, and here it’s where I admit it’s more speculation on my part, I find it a bit hard to believe Monty, the real Monty, at least, would destroy Bonnie just like that. Which makes me think Monty must have been one of the first, if not THE first of the band being infected with the virus. I think it’s a generally accepted headcanon that the virus alters the glamrocks personalities in a way that some of their main character traits are twisted in a destructive way.
Now, Monty already clearly existed back when Bonnie was in the band. He had his own (large!) area even though he wasn’t part of the main band. The DJ is large and has his own section too, but he seems confined to it and was bought from outside the plex. And Monty seems to have been able to roam around anyways, so I think that probably means the higher ups were counting on Monty being a main animatronic in the future. (I have to wonder if the whole one man band thing from the backstory was something he did do for a brief time at the start, but admittedly that could have been added just in the cardboards).
With all this in mind, Monty was probably the newest addition, a newcomer in a place that already had the four main animatronics. Almost known by no one in the public and without an established personality in a franchise he’s never been part of before. One of the messages says Monty could be more popular than Bonnie, after Bonnie’s disappearance, which makes me think he was mostly a side attraction, and nowhere near as known as the main glamrocks. Why mention that he could be more popular if the audience was as aware of him as the band right?
So, I think the main trait programmed for Monty’s personality is ambition. The backstory in his ride seems to hint at that. A young Monty with his own little music business, looking in amazement at the Glamrocks and dreaming of one day reaching their level. It would make sense to have one of the robots have this as their main trait, since kids would relate to the big dreams. And it seems to fit with other main traits from the other Glamrocks: Roxy seems to have been made with self-confidence in mind (winning races and having a beauty salon) which might be for encouraging kids, Chica is obviously all for being chipper and energetic and enjoying food (useful in an entertainment establishment that wants kids to indulge and get their parents to spend their money when they’re having a good time), and Freddy is meant to be nice and fatherly and the approachable gentle main face of the franchise.
(Though I am a bit sad Chica gets pushed aside a bit in regards to explicitly showing what she’s really like)
(As a small parenthesis from all this, I want to say that the Pizzaplexes troubles with the virus (or at least the more worrying behavior of the animatronics) are likely relatively recent before Gregory’s arrival. Could be months or a couple of years, don’t know how much exactly, but the fact that there are old messages all around, how some of those help give Gregory hints to where he can find stuff that is still there, how Bonnie’s Bowling Alley has not been rethemed to get rid of the evidence of his existence, Freddy’s hurt over Bonnie being gone sounding (at least to me) still fresh rather than from that long ago, and the message about the disappearances makes me think it can’t have started a decade ago or something like that)
Anyways!
The Monty “rise to fame” story from the ride establishes that Bonnie “gave” his bass to Monty in order to have him join the band, though that Bonnie cutout is obscured. If they really wanted to make it seem like Monty had retired, why not make a cutout with the most important part of the story clear? They made one with Roxanne styling Monty’s hair! So maybe the plan had been to establish that (in the “in universe” narrative for the animatronics) Bonnie would be the Glamrock that took Monty under his wing and teach him the ropes of being a star? Though probably not with the plans of having him be a Glamrock at all, but maybe appearances with a Glamrock would increase the chances of the new gator attraction succeeding (again, speculation on my part, I know).
Coming back around Monty likely being the newest addition, him still not being established as a popular character would maybe mean that he was an easy target to spread the virus. Way more attention would be paid to the main stars, I think, so I think the probability of him being infected from almost the start is high. And with his main trait being ambition, and Bonnie maybe having been planned to be a sort of pathway to him being more known, it wouldn’t surprise me that by the time the incident happens, the virus has already twisted Monty’s ambition into jealousy and aggression and so he ended up destroying Bonnie that one day. Was Bonnie summoned by Monty? Did Bonnie go to Monty out of his own will because he noticed something was wrong? (which ouch if that was the case. It could very well be even that Vanny noticed that Bonnie noticed something was off and had Monty dispose of Bonnie in order to not have any secrets exposed) Who knows! But this is mostly what I think happened.
And why am I so convinced Monty would not have done this without the virus’ influence? Well… Mostly because of Roxy.
In the main game, Roxy is such a bully. Many of the phrases she says are outright cruel, and at a point where Gregory has done nothing to her yet. But in the DLC we see Roxy as she was meant to be. Encouraging. Lifting a child’s spirits up. Assuring them that they are fantastic how they are.
We know that Cassie is a lonely child. A bit of an outcast who probably spent a lot of time in the plex while her dad worked. We know that her friends did not show up to her birthday and she treasures Gregory as a friend for being there when she was down. Cassie, seems to me, is the kind of child that would be an easy target for bullying. Insecurities and loneliness seem to be main struggles for her, which is why, if Roxanne was already a bully without the virus, why would she be Cassie’s favorite? Why would she be so nice to this kid that obviously needs the confidence boost Roxanne was made to provide? One of Roxanne’s literal lines in SB towards Gregory is “I bet you don’t even have friends!” Knowing that Roxanne knows this is an issue for Cassie, it seems even more brutal that if she’s in her right mind she would use that as an insult when chasing after Gregory. The Roxanne we see in Ruin is so kind. She is a source of comfort for Cassie, soft spoken, and making sure she feels like number one, instead of being self-obsessed (even if it’s born out of extreme anxiety over her own image).
So if there is such an extreme change from a virus riddled Roxy, why would Monty’s extremes not be the same? We know not even Freddy is exempt from this sort of change though this one is more evidence from the books (slight not too consequential book spoiler and can’t quote from which book exactly it was, but I remember there was an off handed mention of Glamrock Freddy fighting over a plushie with a kid and then feeling dejected when people got angry at him, so it seems if Freddy was ever truly infected, his change of personality would entail being a spoiled main star?).
And it makes sense! Because Freddy considers all the Glamrocks his friends! We know Chica cares for him, because in the intro to SB she takes a step towards him when he malfunctions. And in the base SB game it looks like Freddy is just in denial about his friends (with the arcade minigolf game even having the famous Freddy in a trashbin course to hint at Monty’s jealousy, which you know could very well a real danger with what happened to Bonnie) (and now that I’m writing that it makes me squint a little at that arcade, since it’s very heavily implied the arcade in Sun and Moon’s room infected them so hmmmmmmm, but I digress), but honestly, seeing Roxy acting how it seems she’s supposed to act right before Cassie turns her off as the final node, really makes me think that the true selves of the animatronics are pushed back by the virus to replace them with a caricature of themselves that will obey Vanny’s commands. I mean, the Glamrock Freddy body is completely headless, and doesn’t even appear in the AR world! I don’t know whether it “attacks” because it’s what it would do if infected, or if it is simply leftover code from the way Freddy hid Gregory in his chest, but there sure as heck isn’t anything resembling a consciousness in there. Besides, we know Vanny was invisible to Freddy.
And if consciousness really is pushed aside by the virus, then it would explain why Monty is like that right now. (At least if my speculation of him being the longest with the virus is true) He would know nothing but anger and at this point he is acting like all he knows how to do is attack. Monty’s mind seems to truly be absolutely gone by now. :(
But aaaah this is getting way too long now fkjdghkjf
I guess I just want to talk about Bonnie a bit more, because we don’t have that much more about him that I can form any conclusions about. I do love the poster in his room! The fact that he really was this close to Freddy! They saw each other everyday and Freddy still decided to write a heartfelt message for Bonnie, that Bonnie decided to hang where he would see it clearly everyday! It really seems that Bonnie cared for Freddy just as much and that makes me so happy! It makes it all the sadder to know how heartbroken Freddy is over Bonnie’s disappearance…
Also I am incredibly confused by the whole wetfloor bot stuff! I don’t know if it’s implied that Bonnie’s “consciousness” somehow managed to transfer to the small bots (or why children screams can be heard from them), and if he managed to stay present through them after all. The little bots never really try to harm or sound alarms on Gregory unless shot at I think, so there’s that to think about! Or maybe Glamrock Bonnie was able to connect himself to them but not transfer? Kind of as long as there are any functional he too would be able to hang on? (Or did someone did that for him and it wasn’t himself who did?) Because deactivating the ones where we find Bonnie makes Bonnie’s eyes go dark. But why?? This I really have no idea about!
There’s also that one floorbot that remains beside a pile of Monty’s merch! And if Bonnie is looking or controlling the wetfloor bots that could mean a lot of things!! If Bonnie is in control, is the bot gathering the merch? Is it a negative thing? A sort of attempt to just collect the merch so it can’t be found ever again like Bonnie himself was? Or maybe, if Bonnie did have the most contact with Monty, did he get to know the real not-virus-infected Monty, and saw the merch as a way to remember someone that was briefly a good friend before things went terribly wrong? Hmmmmmm…
Well, I think that’s all I have! Just wanted to get my thoughts out there! It’s not very organized but if you made it all the way to here, thank you for reading!
#oh also! I love that they made Monty capable of being underwater even in such a state!#I always had the headcanon that Monty was waterproof and capable of swimming in his golf course hehe#so I was excited about that XD#ruin dlc#kanvas writes#because I sure wrote almost 3k about this jhgfdkjhlkj#fnaf sb ruin dlc#fnaf security breach#security breach#fnaf#glamrock bonnie#montgomery gator#glamrock freddy#roxanne wolf#fnaf ruin dlc spoilers#ruin dlc spoilers#I have many more thoughts about the dlc in general#about the mimic and mxes and of course our dear DCA but this is already so long and I'm a bit tired of typing XD#so yeah!#throws this at you I hope there aren't many mistakes fksdjg
123 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi! can i request steve with, “It’s pouring rain why are you here?” + “I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.” from the prompt list? (maybe reader randomly shows up to steves drunk?) <3.
Hey anon! I'm so sorry I'm such an awful human being and this took so long, but here it is! It's over 3k so hopefully worth the wait ahssnndks
::readmore::
“What d’you mean you don’t know where she is?” Steve demanded, incredulous.
It had been no more than twenty minutes since you’d called him, words slurred down the phone and practically incoherent over the sound of music blaring from a stereo in the background. He managed to determine that you were at yet another of Chelsea Carlton’s parties, which shouldn’t have been hard to guess since all you seemed to do these days was hang around with people you never used to be able to stand, and get drunk in the process.
He wasn’t sure if you’d been asking him to come get you, the call cutting off before he could really make sense of why you were calling. But if there was even the smallest chance that you needed him there, he couldn’t risk not showing up.
It had been almost a month since you’d broken up, and it definitely hadn’t been a mutual thing. Steve had walked around in a perpetual daze for at least 48 hours, trying to make sense of everything you’d said.
“I love you so much, more than anything. But it’s not enough if you don’t feel the same.”
“You know everything there is to know about me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t tell you, but you’re holding something back from me, and I need to know what it is.”
“I can’t do this anymore if you’re not gonna be honest with me.”
“If you really loved me, you would tell me. If there’s someone else, please just put me out of my misery. Please.”
“I'm done. We're over, okay? I can’t do it anymore.”
Those words lived inside his head on a constant, tortuous loop. Three, four, five times a day since, he’s considered telling you the truth.
About the Upside Down; about what really happened to Will Byers; how Barb and Chrissy really died; how he got those scars he could never explain to you; why he slept with the hallway light on and woke up in the night, sweating and panting and scrambling for his baseball bat he kept under the bed.
But he couldn’t be that selfish.
He couldn’t turn your whole world upside down, drag you into the danger that came with knowing about all that stuff, the fear that would plague you once you knew the truth.
He’d have done anything to keep you.
Anything, except the one thing you needed him too.
He wouldn’t ruin your life.
So he didn’t deny it when you said he was keeping something from you. He didn’t object when you implied he didn’t love you enough, and fuck, he didn’t correct you when you asked him straight to his face if there was someone else.
He just stood and watched you fall apart, let you sob and hit at this chest with frustration when he couldn’t even do you the courtesy of answering out loud. He hoped the look in his eyes would be enough; a silent, unspoken apology for everything he was putting you through. But you still left his house that night in tears, car tearing off down his driveway only to pull in a couple hundred yards down the street, head falling back against the headrest - eyes closed and streaming with tears as your hands beat at the steering wheel.
Steve smashed up his house that night - his fist through the bathroom mirror, the desk by his window flipped over and contents scattered across the floor, beside lamp smashed with a swing of his bat, until he was sitting amongst broken glass and splintered wood wondering how the hell he had fucked this all up so badly.
***
He’d been a little surprised that first weekend when he heard you were at a party. Sure, you’d always been up for a good time with your friends - but Chelsea Carlton and her minions? Those people weren’t your friends.
Curiosity had gotten the better of him that night and he’d shown up at Chelsea’s house, loitering in the doorway trying to catch a glimpse of you.
And he did. And you looked beautiful. And he felt his chest crack open at the sight of you.
Then he watched on as half the basketball team circled you like sharks, all bright smiles and dark eyes that raked over you and Steve felt his keys dig into the palm of his hand as his grip around them tightened.
You may have been drinking, but you still had your wits about you and he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t swell a little with pride as he watched you shut them all down, a sweet but stern smile on your face as each of them cut their losses and moved along.
By the next week, word had reached him that you were going on a date, and he was almost sick then and there over the counter at Family Video. Robin being Robin made an excuse for him to dip, and he made his way to the bathroom, hands on his knees and back against the door as he caught his breath.
The following Sunday, he was at work again when he overheard that the date hadn’t gone well at all. Two girls, who didn’t even know you, were giggling over the fact they saw you storming out of Drew Kellerman’s truck at the drive-in, door slammed behind you and tears in your eyes.
His first instinct had been to reach for the phone, to call you and make sure you were okay. To ask if that asshole had hurt you or touched you or so much as looked at you in a way you didn’t like. But Robin had caught his wrist, told him she’d already checked and you were fine - just embarrassed by your own public outburst but totally okay. His shoulders sagged in relief, but he still set the receiver back down with a bang, cursing under his breath as he headed outside for some air.
What Robin didn't tell him was that you also told her the only thing wrong with her date with Drew Kellerman was that he wasn't Steve.
The next weekend, by some miracle, both Steve and Robin had the Saturday off and Nancy and Jonathon were both back visiting from college.
They were heading out for a day on the lake when Steve realized they needed to stop for gas. He was so preoccupied trying to fish his wallet out of the glove box that he didn’t realize the car in front was yours.
You had just set the pump back into place and turned around to head inside to pay when you spotted him, only a few feet away. Your chest felt tight, like suddenly there was no air and all you could smell was gas and all you could see was Steve and you were sure you were on the verge of passing out. He cleared his throat then, shifting awkwardly on his feet and you darted around him, legs moving on their own accord and taking you inside.
The cashier was serving painfully slowly, so you were still in line to pay by the time Steve joined the queue behind you. He kept a safe distance, but it was still too close. He could smell the faint strawberry scent of your shampoo that used to cling to his pillows and the coconut body lotion he used to help you smooth over your shoulders. Your breath hitched, and you swore you could feel the heat radiating from his chest onto your back. Your knees felt shaky, like any second now they’d just give out. You thought about what would happen then - how you had no doubt Steve would catch you, strong arms wrapped around your waist, mouth against your ear asking if you were okay, and suddenly you wanted to run out of the gas station and risk the repercussions of skipping out without paying.
That was the last time he’d seen or heard about you, until the phone call.
***
“What d’you mean you don’t know where she is?” Steve demanded, incredulous.
His eyes scanned the crowd of bodies surrounding them in the kitchen of Chelsea’s mansion, the air cloudy with cigarette smoke making it hard to see and the music thumping from the stereo system one room over making it even harder to hear and he couldn't think straight.
“Like I said, one second she was here, the next? Poof!” Robin explained, a typically exaggerated hand gesture accompanying the ‘poof’.
“And you didn’t think to call me?!” Steve worried, one hand running anxiously through his hair, the front pieces falling into his eyes.
“I didn’t exactly know you two were on speaking terms now!” Robin yelled back, defensive and kind of offended at being so out of the loop.
“We’re-” Steve started, exasperated at not being able to finish the sentence because quite frankly, he didn’t know what you were to each other now.
“We’re not.” He finally settled on. “But she called me. And if she called me, of all people, then something must be wrong.”
Robin sighed, a sympathetic but frustrated expression on her face. “Look, Steve, I get it. You’re in love with the girl, and you’re miserable without her, and she’s miserable without you - but you're both my friends, so until you get your heads out of your asses, do me a favor and leave me out of it?”
Steve knew it was unfair to put Robin in the middle like this, so he didn’t argue when she turned her attention back to an unusually tense game of flip cup that had drawn in quite the crowd, mumbling something about how you probably just caught a ride home with someone and she’d call you in the morning.
***
By the time Steve had searched every room, closet and outbuilding on the Carlton property and confirmed you were nowhere to be found, the weather had taken a turn. The already dark sky was thunderous, raining falling harsh against the sidewalk as he made his way back to his car. He hadn’t been driving more than five minutes when the first flash of lightning forked across the sky, cursing under his breath at the thought of you wandering around on your own drunk on a night like this.
He went to your house first and parked two houses up, like always, to avoid waking your dad. The single-story layout made it easy for him to look in through your window, your bed still made and room in darkness.
“Shit,” He muttered, wiping rain from his face and heading back to the car.
He spent the next hour driving around the streets of Hawkins, stopping off at any place he thought you might be until he decided to go home and try to call you again.
As his car rolled up the driveway, the headlights illuminated his front porch, and all the air left his lungs when he saw you sitting on the bottom step.
The rain was still falling, hard and fast, but you were already soaked and so was Steve. He yanked the keys from the ignition and climbed out the car, leaning his forearms on the top of the door and dropping his head down on to them.
He stood like that for a second, letting the relief settle in that you were okay - that all the worst-case scenarios of you being hurt or in trouble that had been running through his head for the last hour and a half hadn’t amounted to anything.
You stood up before he moved, taking a few tentative steps towards him, the car door he was still leaning on separating you both.
When he finally lifted his head to look at you, he could tell you'd been drinking, and he was instantly angry that you’d walked all the way across town so out of it and in this weather. Your dress was clinging to you, the once floaty skirt of it stuck to your mid-thighs, tendrils of hair plastered to your face and droplets of rain dripped from your lashes. He could tell you’d been crying, eyes rimmed red and make-up smeared around them from where you had rubbed at it.
You pulled at the collar of the jacket you were wearing, it having slipped off your shoulder with the weight of the rain, and when you pulled it tight across your front, Steve realized it was one of his that he thought he’d lost a few months back.
It swallowed your frame, but the look of comfort that swept over your face as you clung to it made his chest hurt and all he could think about was how you were still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
“‘You alright?” He asked, pushing off of the door and stepping around it to close it.
You nodded, eyes fixed on his and fingers tugging anxiously at the sleeves of the jacket.
“It’s pouring rain." He stated, as if it wasn't obvious. "What're you doing here?”
You swallow hard, taking another step forward.
“I found it in Chelsea’s guest room closet.” You finally speak up, gesturing to the jacket as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. “You must have left it behind the last time we were there-”
Your voice caught in your throat when you realized the other reason it could be there.
“I mean, unless…” You trail off, head swimming with the idea of Steve with Chelsea, or Steve with any girl that wasn’t you, and suddenly you feel that familiar sensation of being about to pass out wash over you again.
You begin to pull it off, and Steve knows you well enough to know exactly where your head is at, so he reaches forward and takes a gentle but firm hold of your wrists, stopping your hands in their tracks.
“Look at me,” He says, and it's halfway between a command and a plea.
Your eyes lift slowly from where they’d fixed themselves on his hands around yours until you're staring up at him.
“I know I’ve made it hard for you to trust me,” His voice is barely above a whisper, and if you weren’t so focused on clinging to his every word after not hearing his voice for so long, you’d probably struggle to make it out over the sound of the rain.
“But I need you to believe me when I tell you there’s no one else. Never has been.” He says with a shake of his head as if the very idea was ridiculous, because to him it was. “And I never should have let you think for even one second that it was ever a possibility.”
You release a painful, jagged breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding, and suddenly his grip on you is the only thing keeping you upright.
His eyes feel like they're burning into yours and you want desperately to look away because it's too intense with his fingers still pressing into your skin, but you know instantly he’s telling you the truth.
You swallow and nod, and you're almost relieved when he finally drops your hands back down by your sides and you can think half-clearly again.
“You never answered the question,” Steve presses, filling the silence that’s swallowed you both whole.
“What question?” You ask, head still cloudy from the alcohol and just being near him again, although you’re mostly sober now from the long walk you took in the rain.
“What’re you doing here? At my house. Why’d you call me at all?”
He seems genuinely confused, as if there’s no possible reason why you’d still give him the time of day, and you know it’s because he doesn’t feel like he deserves it.
And then you take him by surprise, and you laugh.
It’s short at first, one huff of air from your chest that shakes your shoulders, and then another until your hands are running through your hair before falling down at your sides with a shrug.
“I love you.”
You say it as if it’s so obvious, so simple. And it is.
“Don’t say that.”
“I love you.” You repeat, walking towards him. “I was at Chelsea’s, and I was sad. Even sadder than usual, and so I drank more than usual. But that didn’t help. It just made me miss you more. And all these people were talking to me and crowding me and I couldn’t breathe because none of them were you, and that’s all I wanted. You're all I ever want. When I’m sad, or happy, or lonely, or scared… and I just had to get away from them all, y’know? So I went upstairs to the guest room, and I found your jacket and it smelled just like you and when I put it on it was like I forgot every bad thing that’s ever happened. All the reasons we don’t work just didn’t matter anymore and I needed to hear your voice. So I broke. And I did the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do and I called you. But it was so loud and I couldn’t hear you, and I needed to hear you, Steve. So bad. And I didn’t know if you were coming, so I came here-”
“Can you do me a favour?” He asked, cutting you off mid-ramble and you just nod, taken aback.
“Can you tell me all this when you’re sober tomorrow?”
“Steve, I walked 30 minutes in the rain. I’m sober.”
“Good.”
And just like that he’s on you, all around you, and you feel the horrible, suffocating weight that’s been holding you down for the last month just disappear.
His hands are cupping your face, thumbs grazing your jaw, fingers tangled in the wet knots of your hair and his mouth is warm and familiar against yours. You’re clinging to his wet t-shirt, pulling at it in an attempt to get him closer to you, but his chest is already flat against yours. He drops one hand from your face to tug at your waist and you gasp into his mouth, his tongue slipping in and pulling a moan from you that he can hear even over the rain that’s still falling around you both.
His hand slams down on the roof of the car as your back collides with driver’s side door, arms tangling around his neck and fingers pulling at his hair.
When you’re forced to tilt your face to side, away from his lips to catch your breath, he plants a trail of open-mouthed kisses the length of your throat until he’s met with the wet material of his jacket still hanging off of your shoulders.
“I can drive you home,” He mutters against the warm skin of your neck, face buried in the crook.
“Or?” You ask, breathless as you use both hands to pull his face up to meet yours.
“Or you can stay here.” He offers, and your face lights up, bottom lip pulled between your teeth to try and contain the smile at the thought of spending the night in his bed again.
“With me. If you want. We don’t have to do anything.” He clarifies, hand pushing wet strands of hair out of your face before you lean up and kiss him again.
“I wanna stay. With you.” Your arms loosen from around his neck, hands sliding down his chest until you reach his wrists and pull him towards his front porch.
He lets you lead the way, only dropping your hand to fish his keys out of his back pocket and he laughs so contentedly when your arms wrap around him from behind, your cheek pressed between his shoulder blades as he fumbles with the wet keys in the lock.
You both stumble into the door as it opens, immediately pulling your wet clothing off and letting it drop to the floor. You're back on him instantly, pulling and kissing him towards the stairs to his room and it takes all his strength to take hold of your shoulders and push back lightly.
“Baby, baby, wait,” He breathes, chest heaving as he stares down at you. “There’s a reason this - we didn’t work. There’s so many things I want to tell you, but I can’t. And I don’t wanna go backwards and do anything that’s gonna hurt you or confuse you or-”
“Steve, please,” You cut him off with a shake of your head. “I know all of that but- Can we talk about it tomorrow? I just, I need to be with you. Please?”
“You’re sure?”
You nod, hands bringing his lips back down to yours again, and you feel him give in against your mouth before he pulls away from you, taking your hand guiding you in front of him and up the stairs.
PART II
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fic#steve harrington#stranger things
926 notes
·
View notes
Note
Controversial headcanons/opinions! That are mostly about Steve now that I read them back.
1. Stancy’s biggest roadblock is Nancy’s inability to admit she’s wrong/makes mistakes.
2. Jancy’s biggest roadblock is Jonathan’s parentification. Jon loves Will, but some of his devotion to him is tied up in that - something I think fandom tends to overlook. We’ve already seen that Nancy either forgets or underestimates how much the Byers rely on Jon and I would not put it past her to view him looking after Will on the same level as her having to look after Mike & Holly.
Even once it’s revealed and they talk about it, it’s going to open a rift between them.
3. Joyce doesn’t give a shit about Steve and never will. Hop gives a shit reluctantly, in a mostly professional capacity but will be haunted with guilt if Steve dies.
4. Karen Wheeler is a shitty person and if the Duffers wanted me to think different maybe shouldn’t have teased her considering sleeping with a kid her daughter’s age. Also doesn’t give a shit about Steve, but is better at hiding it.
5. Billy, while being in the closet and brimming with self hatred, did not have a crush on Steve - he wanted the weird codependent yet weirdly void of sexual tension friendship that Steve would go onto have with Robin.
The fact that Steve hated him and was constantly ignoring him or pushing back at him was part of the appeal. That and the fact Steve’s a bitch - Billy thought that was hilarious.
6. Steve intelligence wise is average and actually has a fairly broad general knowledge - he just has difficulty with the terminology and isn’t great at explaining things to other people.
7. Steve’s kids are Dustin, Max, Lucas and Erica. He will absolutely protect the other three, but any presence he continues to have in their lives is a by-product of the other four.
8. Mike has a on again/off again crush on Steve and it’s part of the reason he turns into an angry cat around him.
9. We will meet Vickie’s entire family before we see the Harringtons on-screen.
10. Jon would *not* react well to Stargyle happening - he refuses to believe Steve is queer, assuming he’s just messing with Argyle/trying to get revenge on Jon for cheating with Nancy (for added tragicomedy, this is how Steve finds out about that).
11. Eddie likes ABBA. I have no fucking idea why fandom seems to think that he’d hate it and has me genuinely questioning how many people in fandom have met an actual metalhead. I know he’s a pretentious douche, but *Jesus*.
12. Whatever else happens between them, Robin will always hold a grudge against Nancy for not knowing who she was when they were first introduced. Steve has the excuse of being a popular kid who was ignorant of his surroundings at all times. Robin is the person who could swipe Valedictorian out from under Nancy but chooses not too. See also, Barb and the handful of grudges she has with Nancy regarding Steve.
omg so many anon! let's do this. long post so I'm going to add a readmore!
Yeah I mostly agree? The inability to let Nancy apologize or be wrong I think really sets back her growth as a character no matter what, and it's really pronounced with stancy! It is something that could be resolved but I do not think the show will do that. Steve wasn't the person Nancy needed in s2, but maybe he is now. Idk there's better stancy meta out there haha There are issues they have I'd love to see addressed but. doubtful they will. Idk if nancy will end up single (like I think she should) but I also don't know if they're actually going to follow through on stancy revival in s5 or just leave jancy as is.
2. Jonathan's parentification!! Absolutely agree. He needs to work through his inability to move on and look to the future for himself. His focus is on Will, who needs more of an older brother from him than another parent, especially now Will is closer to the age Jon was when everything started. Jon is defined by his family, and them needing him. But we sort of see in s4 that Will is growing up, El is too, and they don't need him in the same way Will needed to depend on him in earlier seasons, and Jon is spending time smoking with Argyle, but not actually dealing with what he's feeling.
this is room for Jonathan to develop character-wise, but it's also so interesting how his parentification has been an issue with Nancy! Like she wants to be a priority, but Jon can't do that, because he hasn't figured out how to 1) focus on himself and his wants 2) let himself look at the future as something that isn't looming but something to look forward to!
God I would love to see him figure out what he actually wants and how to balance that with his loyaty to his family in the show! or read a jon focused fic where he gets to deal with these things.
3. Joyce doesn't like steve :'| why would she? he's just some guy to her that Jon didn't like and who used to date her son's girlfriend. Steve's not on her radar at all she doesn't give a shit about him lol (I should write more of the joyce doesn't like steve fic)
4. uhg yeah I think I've already posted about alternatives to the stupid Karen side-plot where it's like. random pool middle age affair man, flirting with mr. clarke, or just her making moves on her own husband to show she wants to make changes in their marriage and the fair being a little date for the wheelers or SOMETHING to make her not creepy and actual have it mean something to her character? or just. not! include! any karen plotline at all!
5. billy is interesting because i would say there might be some one-sided sexual thing happening between him and Steve, and Steve hating and ignoring him would totally egg him on with whatever was going on in his brain. idk if he wanted it actually actionable but was probably going for some weird and very intense pscho-sexual homoerotic relationship. maybe not what could be described as a crush but certainly not whatever stobin has going on (though if he had lived stobin would have also pissed him off lol)
6. Yes! steve can understand a lot if he's given time to understand it. like he's just not a genius or talking fast, and he asks clarifying questions so he (and everyone else) knows exactly what's happening. maybe that might look like he's getting left behind but he's making sure everyone is on the same page, which is actually an important part of plans and sharing info. I'd also say he'd probably have pretty good head for strategy!
7. Dustin, Max, Lucas and Erica are absolutely steve's kids! thank goodness we got Steve and Max content in s4, but I'd love to see more of Steve and Lucas and Erica! I do love Steve with El too, because I think they should and could have a great dynamic, but that's all fanon, unfortunately. Mike and Will having some kind of relationship with Steve are just byproducts of Steve being friends with the others.
8. Mike and his mortifying crush on steve is so precious to me. He'd be so mad about it. It'd be so funny. to me. not for him. but for me :)
9. Harrington parents will remain an unsolved mystery haunting the fandom forever and always. We will know the names of Robin's grandparents and their pets before we see or hear anything more than Mr. and Mrs. Harrington.
10. I am obsessed with this idea. I love stargyle sort of coming out of nowhere for other people. My favourite. They can bond over having great hair and being a chauffeur for children not related to them. Jon side-eyeing this so hard even tho maybe he's been focusing on Nancy and their relationship when steve and argyle are having their Bonding Moments. The confrontation of Jon accusing Steve of getting with Argyle to mess with him, Steve going "what the hell. why would I have an elaborate polt to mess with you that included pretending to be queer? and kissing a man? multiple times??"
and Jon blurting about how of course he would to get back at jon for cheating with Nancy and steve just stopping. and trying to clarify. and Jon digging himself deeper. ooooooh. something to think about and expand on?? 👀👀👀
11. it was the 80s and disco was way out of style but also. who doesn't like ABBA. don't trust anyone who doesn't like at least one ABBA song. suspicious. Eddie would be vocal about his hatred for Progressive Rock though.
12. Robin and her grudges!!!! omg yes if robin was holding herself back from being valedictorian she'd be Pissed that Nancy didn't know who she was. like at least know your rivals! that in combination with the barb thing and all the steve things. Robin's not letting it go. I love her pettiness she's so funny and great. Queen.
#findaanswers#stranger things#steve harrington#jonathan byers#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#eddie munson#argyle stranger things#idk if i should tag the ships#not billy hargrove friendly#even though it's not not friendly let's be safe i guess#anonasaurus#stranger things meta#honestly i had some computer issues answering this and ive been trying to finish it for. hours no so here it is I'm going to bed#stargyle
105 notes
·
View notes
Note
went through your chores choreman tag, and it opened my eyes to the possibilities. in the past, I mostly focused on hilson and huddy and whatever wilson and cuddy are called but never the fellows. you have correct opinions on valewis and middle-aged men being not normal about each other, so you are definitely right about choreman. tell me more about choreman, please, bc your taste? impeccable.
hi! so first of all
you have correct opinions on valewis and middle-aged men being not normal about each other
is the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, thank you :')
ok coming round to your ask — i feel you because one my first watch i didn't care abt choreman much, all my focus was on hilson and huddy as well. hell, i didn't even like chase till midway through s3 lol even though foreman was my favorite since episode 1.
second watch though, is usually when i notice the smaller details, and the funny thing about choreman is that i am damn sure all of it is entirely unintended. which is fine! the writers paid more attention to hilson/huddy, chameron got some attention (though not a lot), and then foreteen became a thing too. but if you're paying attention only to chase and foreman, it's a RIDE. which i am putting under a readmore to be considerate lol
so season 1 starts off with foreman being the newest member of the team. it's clear they get on fine in the beginning — we see them having lunches together, chase answers foreman's questions about house's insanity, etc. but by the time the vogler arc starts, it becomes clear that foreman, in all his judgy glory, doesn't actually hold a very high opinion of chase; he obviously thinks chase is a spoiled selfish nepo baby who doesn't care about his job. when vogler wants them to fire someone, foreman's vote is for chase. and then he's sort of proven right when chase goes behind their backs to help vogler. from that point onwards the lunches together and jokes become snark and derision, and it's obvious they're not friends.
season 2 is more of the same, pretty much — until euphoria. i can't emphasize enough how meaningful that moment is, with chase and foreman's dad in the chapel. it's really such a small moment, especially at first glance. foreman's dad doesn't know how to talk to him; he's religious, he's got a spiritual perspective on everything (including his wife's alzheimer's) and foreman doesn't. on top of that foreman clearly doesn't visit his family much. he's not very religious, and this seems to be a bone of contention between them. it's clear rodney cares about his son a lot; he just doesn't quite know how to express it. he finds chase in the chapel (as we know from s1, chase is religious too, to put it simply). chase, who has recently lost his own father, who has been watching rodney do his best with his son while his own dad never bothered, has very simple advice. "tell him you love him." barebones, straightforward, and that's exactly what rodney does. when foreman is at his worst, his father holds his hand and says "i don't want to miss you" and that is what gets through to foreman. and it's such a little moment! but it means a lot for foreman and his dad, and it goes a long way to show that chase does understand foreman better than anyone thinks he does.
season 3. things begin to change. it turns out chase is working in the NICU as well, because apparently his shithead of a dad cut him out of his will for reasons we never find out. the tritter arc happens. tritter plays chase, and everyone easily accuses him of betraying them. unsurprising due to the events of s1 but sad because it's obvious chase has changed. chase's frustration and exhaustion at being singled out is clearly visible. none of them are friends, but chase especially tends to be singled out; he's the butt of most of house's jokes, cameron finds her daddy issues jabs hilarious, and foreman mostly ignores him. chase and cameron start an fwb arrangement. foreman loses a patient and begins considering leaving ppth. house sabotages him. chase, who understands people better than anyone thinks he does, figures it out. tries to talk about it with foreman, except foreman — who is ashamed — cuts him off and tells him "i don't like you. i never have, and i never will" which obviously takes chase aback. he refuses to write foreman a recommendation letter. house bullies foreman more than usual. chase stands up for him and gets himself fired for the trouble. foreman leaves. cameron quits.
season 4. foreman has no choice but to return to ppth. surprise, chase and cameron never left either. initially foreman seems annoyed to see chase, especially since chase is betting against him, but chase doesn't give a fuck and continues hanging around foreman. foreman sort of lets it happen because sometimes in life you just have to pick your battles and he's already dealing with house and the fellowship hunger games. the infamous exchange between house and wilson happens ("foreman seems protected. maybe he's gay." "does he become an idiot around chase?") which honestly sums up their entire relationship development pretty well. but we'll get to that. s4 is quite short due to the writer's strike that was going on at the time, and ends with a whopper of a double episode that still makes me cry like a little bitch. at the very end, when everyone is dealing with the aftermath of amber's death, we see foreman sitting alone in a diner booth — until someone places a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. he looks up, smiles, and moves aside to make place. it's chase. he and cameron join foreman for dinner. just like old times, eh?
but something's changed.
season 5. house and wilson are temporarily broken up, which house deals with very normally. as in he hires a PI to stalk wilson and also be his substitute bff. the PI digs up dirt on everyone — except foreman, who is squeaky clean. this should be a good thing. to foreman, it is not. everyone calls him boring so he goes off to find chase like AM I BORING???? and chase is like. um. yeah? though you're not so much boring as intensely repressed. then again you do have a tattoo so what do i know. foreman's rationale for asking chase is that chase doesn't care about him enough to lie to him. still, Means Something that when he wants an honest opinion, he goes to the one guy he claims not to like at all. foreman gets offered a clinical trial. thirteen is in it. she's on the placebo. foreman, who's begun dating her, is in a Dilemma. who does he go to for advice first? you guessed it; the guy he claims he'll never like. they have lunch together, and chase tells him not to be an idiot. foreman, establishing a precedent he will continue to act upon for the rest of the show, is an idiot. more stuff happens which i will not elaborate upon. suffice to say they're clearly friends now, despite whatever foreman says because, as established, he's an idiot. also, many scenes of chase and foreman having lunch together. as people that hate each other do.
chase gets engaged with great difficulty and a very Healthy ignorance of the dynamics of his own relationship. foreman "kidnaps" him and gets drunk at his bachelor party, chase gets drunk too, and foreman wraps his arms around him from behind and convinces him to have one more shot. chase is holding a stuffed kangaroo and leaning into foreman. it's all very ... you know. colleagues. yes. then chase licks a stripper and goes into anaphylactic shock, because that's just how his life is. when chase is being wheeled into the hospital, he begins to tell cameron about the party, and foreman, who claims not to give a shit about him, quickly puts his oxygen mask up to shut him up and save him from cameron's wrath. fun times. s5 failmarriage bachelor party you will always be famous.
and then. whoo boy. season 6. s6 my absolute beloved. chase kills a genocidal dictator. or, if we're being pedantic, commits actions that directly lead to his painful death. foreman finds out, confronts him. he's the head of department because house doesn't want to be. this is a high profile case. it's his ass on the line. chase tells him why he did what he did, and asks that if foreman wants to call the cops, at least let him know so he can tell cameron first. foreman considers this, goes "naw" and, acting upon the previously established precedent, covers up the murder. in s5 he was at risk of losing his license; here he's straight up at risk of jail. it's all gucci though. friendly reminder of his insistence he doesn't give a fuck about chase. anyway. chase suffers from obvious ptsd and confides in foreman as they examine some dude's long decomposed remains. foreman covers for him when cameron begins getting suspicious. chase tells cameron and she, while previously a-ok with murdering the dictator, is now all GASP. HOW DARE. HOUSE HAS CORRUPTED YOU. DIVORCE! DIVORCE FOR YOU FOR ONE THOUSAND YEARS! chase is understandably upset. foreman is like "i get you dude i just had a breakup too ://" and chase is like be SO for real right now. s6 goes on; chase fits in well with 13 and taub, and it's clear this team is actually friends. including foreman and chase.
also. the karaoke scene. wilson pays house's team to take him out with them so he can stop thirdwheeling him and sam. everyone does so individually; chase and foreman do it as a pair. foreman even negotiates a higher fee; presumably to split with chase. they do karaoke together. looks very much like house is thirdwheeling yet another couple. they have fun, though.
season 7 is the season of the famed chastity belt episode. episode 1 itself starts off with shenanigans, as these two along with taub and 13 try to acquire a neurosurgeon. cuddy wants them to hire a female doc to replace 13. chase hires a hot woman whose resume he fundamentally misunderstands. foreman bullies her because he's mad house didn't ask him. chase is like "can you like, not?" and foreman is like. "shit. you right. ok, i will not" and sticks up for her. doesn't matter, she gets fired anyway. the takeaway is that when foreman is power tripping and chase calls him out, he actually listens. as in, pays attention and values chase's opinion and then corrects himself based on it. they've come a long way. they have a lot of fun moments, like playing rock-paper-scissors to see who has to babysit masters; chase being the world's worst wingman to foreman at a wedding; chase whining to foreman that he didn't get put on a billboard and foreman calling him a pretty boy and a swimsuit model. as one does.
stuff happens. huddy break up. 13 comes back. she's real sad because her honestly? her life kinda sucks i can't lie. masters leaves. they get a patient who won a lottery. chase and foreman get into a discussion where chase is like "well you're worried what it means for the hospital that cuddy's mom is suing house and cuddy, so obviously this means you're repressed as fuck." foreman is like "you're HORNY" and chase is like "am not! i am Going To Wait For True Love now." it's a bet. chase has to try to get a rise out of foreman. no one knows what's at stake here, since they don't discuss money, favors, or anything else changing hands. foreman does say, out loud, in front of God and house and country, that if he wins he gets to put chase in a chastity belt. no one is fazed by this. no one is weirded out by this. no one finds it strange. probably it's a given to them all that foreman constantly wants to dom chase. he does it enough in the workplace anyway. nothing new there.
(they both lose the bet, by the way.)
more stuff happens. huddy break up some more. house gives her living room a nonconsensual renovation. house becomes a temporary part of the US prison industrial complex.
season 8 starts off with many changes — foreman is now dean of medicine, and there's no diagnostic department. taub has fucked off to new york, and chase is off surfing somewhere. 13 has found herself a girlfriend. good for her! but then chase and taub come back. two new fellows join the team. foreman tries to boss house around. it goes as well as you'd expect. chase tells him off for being too restrictive and bureaucratic now. foreman is like "shit, you right" and lets them do whatever they want to the patient. chase gets the right diagnosis. the day is saved. this is their first case back.
more little moments. chase and foreman hang out at taub's house while foreman ruminates on the ethics of his relationship. chase plays peekaboo with babies while taub stews in his own jealousy. it's cute, honestly.
then chase gets stabbed, and foreman, for lack of a better word, panics a little. in that he literally can't figure out whose fault this is, so the obvious solution is to get someone else to make that call. he calls in his old mentor. he knows that if it's his fault, he will be fired. he blames himself a bit, wondering if he should've reined house in more. it's ruled to be nobody's fault. chase, reacting in a Normal and healthy manner, starts sleeping around again, then falls in intense Like with a nun. foreman disapproves. the nun ditches him after a religious experience on the surgical table. chase is sad until house yells some common sense into him, and he returns to the team. they get a case with a little girl. chase finds out the little girl's mum is experimenting on her. next scene is literally foreman interrogating the mum while chase stands behind him like they're some medical crime fighting duo. that'd be a fun spin off actually.
treiber, a pathologist who's got beef with chase, gets sick. house and wilson have fucked off to have a grand adventure. everyone panics. foreman tells chase to stop fucking up the case, but also doesn't take him off it. chase puts his entire pussy into solving the case, and decides to leave the team. foreman tells him "about time", indicating he's thought for quite a while that chase has outgrown the department, and is capable of running his own. they hug while a soft romantic song plays in the background. their scenes are cut with those of house and wilson. not sure who the romantic song applies to; probably both pairings if the lyrics are any indication. listen to it here.
more stuff happens. house fakes his death to drive off into the sunset with wilson. foreman is like, i know JUST the guy to replace him!! and hires chase back, the natural conclusion to chase's arc as a doctor. this is a job that foreman has failed at before, and he is trusting it to chase. they've come SUCH a long way. by the end of the show, not only do they respect each other immensely as colleagues, they are close friends who give each other's opinions a lot of weight, and also they are literally parallels to house/cuddy by the end.
also foreman wants to put chase in a chastity belt. there's that, too. may he one day realize his dream. amen.
#SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG#UH. enjoy the ship manifesto ig?#asks#marchlione#choreman#house md#ty for the ask btw i did have fun writing this asdfsdf#foremanchase#<- blog tag#choreman ship manifesto
85 notes
·
View notes
Note
this is just my take re: tmp spoilers but i believe no spoilers discussed anywhere in public until the series hits the public feed is the right call. both for those unable to listen until january and for those who get an early listen as a treat for supporting the show. i know its a long time to keep hush but it seems the most fair thing to do across the board.
Yeah, I agree that that'd be the best call! I personally won't be posting any spoilers until the public release
im only not sure if that's a standard that everyone online will hold to, going by when s5 was airing, and considering that the delay between preview and public release then was only one day. Hence why i said in the tags on that post, if people really really feel like they HAVE to post about it, putting it under a readmore is the least they could do.
50 notes
·
View notes
Note
I have a question about CTDE zatanna's backstory. How do you interpret the medulla jewel? I mean both the impact it has on her story and powers. Also does the hidden city play a big role or not really?
zatanna nation alive and well in my inbox today... welcome... and you're activating my CTDE Ramble Mode 😭 here we go again (puts in a readmore) but thank you for asking!
god the fucking medulla jewel. i mean the thing is.
i MEAN. the THING is.
even DC didn't really seem to know how to interpret that thing. it's shown up like twice or whatever Back In The Day and it was all quite vague and then they stopped talking about it forever. so it never really crossed my mind as something i should factor in to be honest 😭 but now that it's been brought up i'm considering if it might be useful in some way...
well, CTDE Zee's power level has always been primarily a result of her immense experience (never ask a magician her age), which is plenty sufficient for my general purposes. her long training, lived experience, and intricate know-how are the main vehicle, wrapped around an engine of her raw magical power. taking the medulla jewel as a type of magical power source (as presented), it might serve as a means to support the immense pool of resources at her disposal...
primarily i would hate for it to be the Sole Culprit behind her strength since there are Other Reasons she's like this (lol) but i think it could definitely be a Factor (and help explain the truly Zany stunts Arc 3 demands of her, which are so immense they almost kill her lmao)
...i suppose there's a few ways to conceptualize it for my purposes without sundering the 'verse like for example
the jewel is an "innate source of magic" that actively supplies her with a constant flow of power
the jewel is a "battery" that passively stores excess power to be used whenever needed
the jewel is a "philosopher's stone" that transmutes base magic into effective spells directly, circumventing traditional casting methods/costs (essentially, casting for free)
the jewel is a "lens" that focuses magic and gives spells a buff to concentrated power, like a magnifying glass under the sun
something else or a combination
for my purposes and the role she plays in the AU, a combination of #2 and #3 feels more compelling to me than something like #1. Since the CTDE is running "magic always has a cost" rules, a big thing about zee's bad vibe is her non-committal relationship with actually paying—if the medulla jewel provides an innate "bank" of some magical resource, which she can choose to "trade" with the universe in order to immediately cast For Free, that suits her type just fine. her coin on a string for the vending machine of magic, if you will
but it should have a theoretical limit, so making it a "battery pool" that runs low Eventually and needs to recharge (by skimming magic off the world around her) is OK. how to manage her bank of resources—whether to do regular safe invocation or cosmic trickery or just cast from her cheater freebie pool—should be (at least in theory) a choice she makes when bending the universe around her
(her level is so immense that in like 99% of cases she could just freecast without thinking about it) (but the 1% of spells that she needs to Actually Think About is what we're concerned with preserving, so that's still okay)
if she has that funny thing built-in, she probably spent a lot of her training time refining and practicing how to use it and how magic interacts with it. which means she would probably have to Know About All Of That beforehand. which brings us back to the Hidden City Sindella Lore huh.
well when it comes to her parents and stuff, CTDE Zee does play the same general tune--so it's possible some variation of Sindella's Fun Battery Pack plot did happen. this part of the CTDE backstory i havent really delved into bc it hasn't been relevant/important to the main plot of the AU but honestly.... maybe it would be fun to tinker with those components and assemble something
if a variant version of that did happen and sindella was being used to power the hidden city's hidden city-ing, zee would know enough to refine her own Working Relationship with the Magic Brainstone. but also i did Simply Assume and mark sindella as "dead" in my chart earlier, so it probably didn't end much better for herBHJDJMKS
ahhh... we hardly knew ye...
if a version of that stuff happened its probably backstory/not SUPER foreground to her present-time CTDE storyline . since she has some other major shit going on nowadays . but it mightve still been a pretty important part of the backstory...hmm....
it might even prove useful for me down the road, in plotting some of the foggy areas, maybe? i could probably use a hidden city or two, they're convenient to have aroundHDHJBFD
(imagining fondly) the peak Evil Motherhood Theme moment of the CTDE will be when zee takes everyone back to the hidden city and is like Yeah so they sucked my mom DRY here and NOT in a good way. she Died! & theyre all like "ohhh. this is why youre like this"
haha no idk..hm... it's compelling. i'll have to think of a way to use it. if nothing else youve given me something to think about.... in my zee cave...
#CTDE#why is this post so long. for a ROCK? in her BRAIN??? im so sorry#(zatanna voice) of course it goes without saying that I am hopelessly dependent on the jewel
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
[OLD Q&A] Roo answers some stuff
Hello! A month or so ago, I had Roo answer some questions on twitter. I decided that it'd also be good to archive most of them here, so you guys can learn a bit more :] (some of it is kind of important?? i think... haha)
Click here to read the original tweet and all responses.
NOTE: answers are in character! Therefore, all questions below were answered by Roo! (undereats!sans)
Qs & As under readmore! (warning: long post)
[names listed below are twitter users' URL.]
[Q from LazeroFox] Is there any place that you can’t really go? Like an au that’s destroyed-
[ROO] depends. if you know an AU's coordinates, the bike can create a portal for you. and when we receive orders, the customer's details are automatically sent to our phones.
[ROO] but if an AU's destroyed, it'll either send you to the void, or it won't create a portal at all.
---
[Q from mmm99tunas] Does Roo ever get a break? What does he spend his hard-earned Gs on? (aside from gallons of BBC sauce)
[ROO] oh yeah. i get loads of nap time inbetween rounds. just punch in some random cords, hide somewhere and snooze a bit. it's the easy life.
[ROO] (though technically that's not allowed so don't tell my boss)
[ROO] as for my G, usually i spend it at grillby's 2. it's hella good.
---
[Q from Malina_Vivvivu] Is there a place Roo hates delivering at :∆?
[ROO] hah... haha... hahaha....
[ROO] the doodlesphere, for one. and those evil sanses. i feel like i age 10 years everytime they're on my delivery list.
[ROO] why are they so violent?? they're the ones who ordered the food???
[M] They like playing before eating ((:
[ROO] is it playing or bullying??? i swear, it's like they only start when i arrive...
---
[Q from bl4ck_st4rs] What do you do if you mess up someone’s order? (pick up the wrong one or spill/drop it)
[ROO] woah now. i would never mess up a valued customer's order like that. who do you take me for?
[ROO] but if i did...
[ROO] you just gotta grovel. make 'em think you're gonna die if they don't forgive you. not that i'd ever mess up.
[* He looks shifty eyed.]
---
[Q from sweetnad_uwu] Hi Roo! The traveling moped u have, the only way anyone can get one is if they work to the same company you do? Or is there any other way to get it?
[ROO] hiya. and yep. gotta be a UE driver for the magic bike.
[ROO] the boss is REAL good at keeping track of 'em. they've never left a bike unaccounted for, and they always know when i "accidentally" break mine.
[ROO] feels like they're all-seeing or something. freaks me out.
---
[Q from AnnoyingFox20] dear roo,if you met an actual a person that charming and wise,nice,so caring do you consider to be your bf in your life? 😏😏😏
[ROO] sorry pal. spot's taken.
[* He's fiddling with a bottle.]
[ROO] his name's arbiter. he's real chill, owns the condiment hall. sells the best bbq sauce in the multiverse.
[* It seems he's mistaken 'bf' for 'bbq finder'...]
---
[Q from ZippyDoZane] Zane: Do you deliver to far off kingdoms? Also eh heh heh if you do could you stay for a bit? I got board games that we can play. The king will give you a big tip if you do eh heh heh.
[ROO] "UnderEats - if you can order it, we can deliver it!"
[ROO] ...that's not actually the slogan. it's actually...
[ROO] "UnderEats - tip the drivers, and they'll be your best buds!"
[ROO] ... so what time should i come over?
---
[Q from jasper2450] Have the bad guys ever wrecked your motorcycle?
[ROO] (cough) er... technically THEY didn't wreck it. but if they force me to use it, it's kind of their fault right??
[ROO] i mean, i always tell them, "don't make me use my special attack". and what do they do? they make me use it.
[ROO] so yes. it's their fault.
---
[Q from KaylaTSkeleton] is there anywhere roo likes delivering to?
[ROO] any AU where i can deliver food without being put in a whacky situation is good enough for me.
[ROO] i'm fond of underswap right now. swap papyrus is a real pain in the coccyx, but if i snitch to blue, it always pisses him off. hehehehe.
[ROO] plus they always tip well.
---
[Q from zeni_zetty] have you ever get Chase by simp???...
[ROO] huh? who? (what's a simp???)
[ROO] i mean, i HAVE been chased before. but i don't remember anyone specifically, except those bad sanses.
[ROO] ...do i even WANT to remember?? don't chase innocent workers please...
---
[Q from necropathy_] Do you have any destinations/AUs that you don't mind/prefer delivering to?
[ROO] underswap, outertale, dancetale, that Alphys in the void... [A/N: the alphys is ALIVE by tatatale]
[ROO] and uh... horror AUs. well, they don't really order. but sometimes food just. slips out of my bag whilst i'm passing through.
[ROO] uh. don't tell the boss. we have this whole non-intervention policy, so...
---
[Q from SolarPhoenix7] I know you probably deliver a lot of different foods, but what's your own favorite dish?
[ROO] anything bbq flavoured is delish.
[ROO] by the way. you ever been to grillby's 2? their burgers are to die for. tho honestly i could eat just about anything and enjoy it.
[ROO] as long as it's not mtt food. no idea how they own so many stores across the multiverse. 0 stars.
---
[Q from Greedy621] Hi! Do you ever getting weird requests other than food delivery?
[ROO] the app is only designed for food delivery, so not particularly. but it does has a messaging feature. which is used... creatively... by some people.
[ROO] if anyone ever sends you a pic on there, don't open it. i promise you it's not worth it.
[G] Ok, now I’m curious what kind of pictures have you saw to made you give this advice.
[* He looks like he's remembering something unpleasant...]
[ROO] sorry, client confidentially. trust me... you REALLY don't wanna know.
#undereats!sans#roo#undereats#qna#undertale au#I plan to do another q&a here#so i wanted to post this first#so people could see what was already answered#roo lore#undereats lore
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Readmores And You - A Really Great Tumblr Feature!
(this is technically directed at stuff I've seen in a specific tag because of the content of said tag makes it more likely to spoiler things, but it applies to anyone likely learning the ins and outs of a new site. speaking of which, hello! welcome to tumblr!) (this got. longer than anticipated. apologies, I get bogged down in trying to make things as clear as possible. ^^")
I've seen this a lot recently in the VC tags especially, where the post goes something to the effect of "tw bloody animal!" then like six periods and the images of whatever dead thing the post is about.
I recognize this is probably being carried over from some other website (...reddit probably? maybe insta?) but please. I appreciate y'all so much for trying to do what you're doing. but this method of hiding pictures isn't effective on tumblr, but there is an infinitely better option!
"but why? it works fine on other sites?" firstly, a few extra lines typically don't even take up enough space on mobile (let alone desktop) to hide your pics, so even at a glance anyone is likely still seeing at least the top half of whichever picture you posted before even noticing the trigger warning on top. second, because you have to scroll all the way past the images at the bottom of your post anyway to get to the next one on your dash/in the tag/etc. so if someone comes across your post and the trigger warning is applicable as something they want to avoid, unless they have access to a keyboard to use a keybind shortcut that ive been here 12 years and still cant remember, they can't see any other posts after it without either having to scroll through the pics or outright block you. which is... not the most ideal of options I would say.
"but what else am I supposed to do then!?" I hear you ask.
READMORES!
tumblr has a wonderful feature known as a "readmore" that's built into the site! it creates a break in your post, which hides any content - be it words, images, whatever - that you place underneath it, not showing it unless the person viewing it clicks on the words "keep reading" (formerly "read more" - hence the name :D).
Cool, how do I do that?
on mobile you can place one by tapping an empty line and clicking the grey squiggle icon from the selection that allow you to insert an image/vid/link
which will place a squiggly line into the post you're making:
(desktop uses the same icon, it's just in a more compact row of icons.)
you can drag it around after placing it too, just like photos. (note: mobile can get finicky with this and it's usually just easier to remove it -click the big red X- and add it in the new place you want it.)
EDIT: some of the versions of mobile editor are broken and don't show the icons. to add it in manually type ":readmore:" (with the colons, but not the quotation marks) on its own line. Thank you for the reminder, LovingTogetic!
this is also a nice way to keep your blog tidy and not swamped in long and/or spoilery posts (say if you're posting 5k word fics, or extensive meta, or gushing over the ending of the latest game or TV show most people probably haven't seen yet)! it's not required, obviously, but it's generally considered a common courtesy for others that will be seeing your post cross their dashboard.
finally, an example of the readmore in action:
(ta-da!)
have fun out there y'all, I hope this is helpful ^^
as an aside (I wasn't sure where to put this but under the break seemed appropriate), you may also see a lot of personal/vent posts be fully under readmores as well, even if the post is only a sentence or two long. this is mostly so followers don't necessarily see it unless they specifically click, but there's a more frustrating history to it becoming a thing: when a post is reblogged, any content above the break is permanently frozen as it existed at the time, but anything under it will reflect edits made to the post. while not common, a certain type of user sometimes browse the various "do not rb" tags and will purposefully reblog personal posts in order to upset and distress the users. putting those things under a readmore make it so even if that happens, the text can be deleted from all iterations of the post. recently the site rolled out an option to lock a post to reblogs, but you gotta mess with the settings and it's mostly a habit after a decade here dealing with the nonsense.
#tumblr guide#hope it's okay to tag i'll remove if asked but#vulture culture#how to#tumblr how to#readmores#tumblr how-to
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (11/?)
Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches.
Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Word Count: ~3.1k
Feyre faces her first task Under the Mountain.
Some dialogue in this chapter is taken directly from ACOTAR book one.
Read on AO3 or you can find the eleventh chapter below the readmore.
ch. 1 - 10 | ch. 11 - she underestimated just who she was stealing from
I heard the crowd before I saw it. The passageway reverberated with the roaring, which could only mean that everyone Under the Mountain was here to witness this. As long as Rhys was among them, I didn't mind.
As the guards hauled me closer, the floor became slick and muddy. That was strange—all of the rooms and passages down here had been hewn from dry stone. I suspected it had something to do with the task ahead of me, but I couldn't imagine what. There hadn't been any mention of mud when I'd gone over maps of Under the Mountain in Velaris, and Rhys hadn't mentioned anything about it, either.
The shouting grew louder as we approached, and the faces of the fae closest to me were twisted in feral, bloodthirsty delight. I kept my chin high. Amarantha sat on a wooden platform erected above the crowd, surrounded by all seven High Lords. I didn't bother to look at Rhys or Tamlin, as much as I was tempted to.
Instead, I turned my attention to the strange labyrinth of tunnels and trenches along the floor. I was to be thrown into it, I realized. Perhaps there was something for me to find without getting lost, traps to avoid…
Then Amarantha raised a hand, and the crowd went quiet.
I looked straight at her, doing my best to seem faintly bored. She wore that usual mocking smile that was becoming far too familiar. Rhys kept out of my head, so I just waited for her to speak.
"There's not a scratch on you, Feyre. Don't tell me Rhysand decided to be a gentleman last night and make your first time soft," she said.
"Daemati don't leave marks," I said coolly, "but I'm not surprised you'd forget, considering how utterly unremarkable your whore turned out to be in bed."
The words were out of my mouth before I thought to warn Rhys I was about to insult him. He knew perfectly well that I had to keep up appearances, but to use that word that had been spat at him for fifty years…it might have gone too far. I sent a pulse of regret down the bond.
He slipped into my mind just long enough to say, Unremarkable in bed? It's difficult to be offended when you're being such a liar.
Good—he saw through the mask I was wearing, too. Forcing myself not to let my relief show, I kept watching Amarantha. Even from a distance, I caught the way her eyes flashed and her lip curled in the beginning of a snarl. My words had been a touch too defiant—I braced myself, ready to bear the brunt of her anger.
She merely rested a possessive hand on Tamlin's knee, a clear display of dominance that flaunted the ring with Jurian's eye. It was a miracle I managed not to look irritated. Even with the power of all seven High Lords at her disposal, she clearly seemed to consider my apparent devotion to Tamlin a threat. Pathetic, really. She could have him for all I cared.
"Did you solve my riddle yet?" she said, voice dripping with false sweetness. I said nothing and kept my face blank. "Of course not, and what a shame. It was so simple, but I suppose humans just can't handle faerie wine. You don't even remember it, do you?"
"No. I don't remember it at all," I lied, cheeks burning.
That, at least, seemed to satisfy her. She sat back in her throne contentedly, and I did my best not to look too relaxed.
"Then you'll have to face my tasks, I'm afraid. Though I suspect you'll like this one—Rhysand tells me you're a huntress."
I held back a smile at the confirmation Rhys had come through for me. I might not have a bow or supplies to make a snare, but I was by far the the best hunter Under the Mountain. I'd all but proven that on Calanmai.
My sense of relief was short-lived as claws dug into my armpits and lifted me into the air. I let out a shriek. The crowd laughed. I twisted to see what had grabbed me—the Attor. I was dangling from its claws like a mouse caught by an owl.
Two more powerful wingbeats, and it dropped me into the trench.
I fell to my knees, mud soaking through my pants. The muck seemed to suck me down, and I prayed I'd tied the laces of my boots tight enough to keep them on. I struggled to my feet and tried not to gag at the smell.
The smell—if I was hunting, I'd need to cover my scent. The mud itself might not be overwhelming to a creature that lived here, and it seemed safe enough to assume whatever beast she'd have me fight would have an acute sense of smell.
The sound of Amarantha's voice pulled me from my thoughts about the possible direction of the airflow through the arena. "Hunt this, Feyre," she said, then called, "Release it."
I barely kept my balance as a grate rose, sending rumbling vibrations throughout the trenches. Heart pounding, I bent my knees, ready to push off and run in any direction. Amarantha was saying something else, but I ignored her.
My quarry appeared.
And it was a worm.
A giant worm, surprisingly fast, with a mouth full of rings of sharp teeth, but a worm nonetheless. I barreled down the trench to put space between us, to give me time to think and come up with a plan. I'd hunted plenty of game in the woods, but I hadn't the faintest idea how to hunt a worm.
Rhysand had to be out of his mind if he thought this was part of my skillset.
I kept running, veering around corners and hoping it was enough to give me space to breathe. There were no weapons down here, nothing but mud. Perhaps I'd be able to hide myself in it, but that wouldn't do any good if all I had to kill the worm with was my bare hands.
After turning enough corners, the worm was nowhere in sight. I risked stopping in the middle of a long straightaway. It seemed safe enough to pause here, somewhere I'd see it coming. Bent forward with my hands on my knees, I considered what I'd seen. Most of my attention had been on that terrible mouth and razor-sharp teeth, but then I realized—I hadn't seen a pair of eyes.
The worm was blind.
It had to rely on smell to navigate, and it was almost certainly used to the mud. And the first rule of hunting was to conceal your scent. I dropped into the mud and rolled. There was precious little time before the worm came slithering around a corner, but I made sure every inch of me was covered—my hair, my face, my neck—even as the damp seeped through my clothes and chilled me down to my bones.
The crowd tittered, clearly confused by this turn of events, but I tuned it out. I was invisible now, but I still didn't have a weapon or a plan. Until I did, I couldn't waste a single shred of my attention on anything else, though I couldn't help but notice Rhys saying my name and something vaguely smug.
Now that I'd caught my breath, I hurried through the labyrinth and looked for something that could be of use other than mud. I had no weapons on me, nothing to use as a projectile beyond the clothes on my back. And my shoe would hardly be enough to fell the worm, no matter how hard I threw it.
I skidded to at stop at the end of another long straightaway, nearly falling into the pit before me. The Mother only knew how deep it went. If I fell in, I'd be trapped. But there was nothing in this labyrinth for me but mud. And the worm was coming.
So I dove.
I dipped my chin, tucking in my head to avoid landing on it just as Cassian had trained me. The mud softened my landing as I rolled, then got smoothly to my feet. There was some scattered applause from the crowd. I ignored it, intent on finding a tool. Or at least a way back up.
My eyes hadn't adjusted yet—I couldn't see what it was, but I nearly wept for joy when something hard crunched under my foot. I crouched down and dug it out. Bone. Piles of bones came into view, the remains of whatever the worm had been eating. But more importantly, my way out of here.
I could retreat farther into the darkness—there had to be a second way out—but I wouldn't be able to see. To get out, I'd have to scale the the mud walls. There was nothing to grab but mud that fell away in my hands. The bones would have to do.
I found a long, thin bone and broke it in half over my thigh. It snapped in half, even as my own body protested at the effort. But the ends were sharp. Deadly. And I felt better with a weapon in hand.
I fastened one half to my belt, then got to work setting my trap. I cracked as many bones as I could, breaking them over my knee until my thigh was probably dotted with bruises under my mud-soaked pants. I stuck them into the ground, sharp side up. When the pain of snapping them over my thigh became too much to bear, I broke more with my foot.
The crowd was roaring above me—at some point I was vaguely aware of a taunt from Amarantha and something else smug from Rhys. But I was too intent on what I was doing to care.
By the time it was done, my hands ached and stung, covered in scrapes from bone shards. The trap was set, but I still had work to do. None of this would matter if I didn't have a way back out. I pressed the last few long bones into the sides of the pit, a makeshift stepladder to haul myself out. That is, if they didn't snap under my full weight and send me falling onto the spikes I'd set up below. I fastened as many more bone fragments to my belt as I dared, hoping they'd prove useful later.
It had to work, if only to spare me the embarrassment of being killed by my own trap in front of an audience.
The bones wobbled under my weight as I scrambled up the makeshift ladder. My stomach flipped, the feeling too familiar after climbing up trees with too-thin branches. Before I could fall, I heaved myself upwards. I flopped forward, landing inelegantly on my stomach. But I'd made it.
Pulling the bone-spears from my belt, I pressed them into the mud so they jutted out sideways. They'd force the worm to slow down as it rounded these corners. It would buy me some time, a few precious seconds.
Now it was just a matter of baiting the worm into the trap.
I unfastened the last bone, holding it out like a sword, and stalked down the trench. With the dull roar of the crowd and my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, I could barely pick out the slithering sound the worm made as it moved. My instincts were screaming at me to go faster, but years of hunting had trained me to ignore them, to look and listen before every single step.
As I rounded a corner, it slithered by, completely unaware of me. I'd change that in a moment. Gritting my teeth, I cut open a gash along the side of my arm. It was small, but if the worm's sense of smell was as acute as I suspected, a few drops would be enough.
Leaving blood behind me in a trail, I ran.
The mud sucked my feet down, and my legs were groaning with the effort to pull my feet out with every step. The squelching sound seemed to echo in my ears, drowning nearly everything else out. I'd kick off my boots and run barefoot if I had to. I prayed it wouldn't come to that.
The trench didn't seem to end, and I'd half-convinced myself I'd spent the rest of my immortal life running from the worm when the pit opened up wide before me. I dove again.
But this time, my energy was sapped. I put every last drop of strength into the leap, but I didn't travel quite far enough, landing too close to spikes. I barely managed to remember to tuck my head and avoid slamming it into the mud.
A bone shard dug into my arm as I flipped myself over, crisscrossing the first gash with another one, tearing open the flesh all the way from my shoulder to my elbow. I screamed. Tears pricked at my eyes.
I scrambled back, away from the mouth of the pit, not thinking, just seeking the darkness on instinct. Even with pain clouding my mind, I knew darkness was safe. Bone-spear in hand, I pushed myself deeper into the worm's den.
I turned around just in time to watch the worm plummet after me into the pit. The wet, crunching noise that followed would replay in my nightmares for the rest of my days, the worst thing I'd ever heard since that very first snap of a rabbit's neck.
But the worm didn't move.
Out of habit, I reached towards my thigh for a hunting knife, ready to fight through the exhaustion to skin and butcher a kill, the way I'd done at the end of countless long days in the woods. But for once, I didn't have to.
I staggered forward, still clutching the bone-sword in my uninjured hand. The crowd was cheering, but the only thing I could focus on other than the pain was the gentle brush of talons at the edge of my mind. I let my shields down—it was a wonder I'd even managed to keep them up this long.
The wave of relief down the bond was so strong I nearly lost my grip as I climbed back out of the pit. But Rhys wasted no time, pressing his talons deeper to take away the pain from the wound in my arm. It cleared my head, at least somewhat.
As I walked back through the labyrinth, Rhys said, I have never been more grateful to have the bravest mate in Prythian.
And I had never been more tired of being brave. Yet again, I'd found myself in danger, setting a trap and killing a beast just to keep myself and the people I cared about alive. Rhys had been right that the task had played to my strengths—at the end of it all, the worm's labyrinth of muddy trenches wasn't any different from the labyrinth of snow and ice I hunted in each winter. For a while in the Spring Court, I'd thought I'd finally put hunting behind me, but after finding out that had all been a lie, ending up right back where I'd started was so much more infuriating.
"Well," Amarantha said with a little smirk as I approached the platform, "I suppose anyone could have done that."
The words broke the dam that had been straining to hold back my overwhelming rage. My lips pulled back from my teeth, I snarled like a faerie, took a few running steps, and hurled the bone-spear at her.
It landed just in front of her, embedded in the mud, quivering and splattering filth onto her gown. I nearly screamed in frustration—I'd been aiming for her heart, but my strength was too depleted to throw the bone far enough.
But then Rhys dropped his shields completely, and from his side of the bond, a wave of the best feeling in the world washed over me. I didn't recognize it at first, but it was warm and golden and beautiful, something far too good to exist in this hellhole Under the Mountain. Even as I wanted to let myself melt into the feeling, I struggled to find a name for it.
A sob nearly escaped me when I realized what it was: love.
Amarantha was picking up a piece of parchment and saying something about it, but I paid her no attention, just focused on the way Rhys's mind curled around mine. I love you, too, I said back, wishing that as I did it, I could look at him and not the see the mask, just this once.
But before that he'd called me brave, and something about it had been familiar. As Amarantha continued on with some nonsense about wagers, I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what it was about the word "brave" that had stuck in my mind. I'd heard it before, somewhere significant.
I drew enough strength from the feeling of Rhys's mind against mine to remember. But I bless all those who are brave enough to dare. I had been brave enough to dare to come Under the Mountain, and there was only one thing that had truly felt like a blessing since I'd arrived, the feeling he'd just sent me through the bond.
And it was the answer to the riddle.
I turned my attention back to Amarantha, who was saying, "…and just one person said you would win." I knew exactly who that person was, and it was all the confirmation I needed that I was right.
"By the way," I said, my voice strong as it rang through the arena and carried over the crowd, my cocky tone making me sound just a bit like my mate, "the answer to the riddle is love. And Tamlin isn't my High Lord—that honor belongs to Rhysand."
The whole room was instantly plunged into darkness. There were screams of terror from the crowd, but I wasn't the least bit afraid. This was the darkness that sang in Rhys's veins, the same power that had greeted me like an old friend the first time I'd set foot in the Night Court.
On the platform where Rhys was standing, I could just barely make out the outline of membranous wings, razor-sharp talons, and raven feathers, as if the darkness was letting me see through it, allowing me a glimpse of the monster that lurked underneath it all.
I smiled at it.
I could feel the sense of victory, though I wasn't sure if it was entirely mine or Rhys's or something that belonged to the magic I'd just released. But regardless of where it originated, I knew exactly what it was.
This was Night Triumphant.
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just a quick little thing a wrote in like an hour. It would've been awesome to have gotten more Steve Raglan in the movie, so here's a quick extra little interaction between him and Mike!
It's not that long, but I'll put it under a readmore just in case :>
---
Mike fidgeted nervously, gently bouncing his leg in the suffocating beige office of one Mr. Steve Raglan. The silence was starting to make him sweat as he avoided looking at his career counselor's face.
After being reprimanded by officer Vanessa for sleeping on the job and forgetting to lock the door. He could've sworn he did though-. Steve, can he call him Steve? Had called Mike, asking to meet him back in his office. Mike wasn't sure what for then, still not entirely sure now, was this normal? Do career counselors call people back to fire them? Maybe, maybe not. It felt likely to Mike, considering Freddy's, especially since he has yet to meet the owner, he doubted he ever will. Steve was fully in charge of hiring nightguards, maybe he was in charge of firing them as well
Mike flinched a bit when Mr. Raglan suddenly hummed, Mike started to bounce his leg some more and looked for a clock, how long had it been? Minutes? Seconds? He couldn't tell. After Mr. Raglan asked him about the pills and the break in, Mike felt he had no choice but to go into detail about Garrett and his dreams for the second time that day. And now he was waiting. Hoping the older man wouldn't fire him for being a headcase.
"Michael"
Mike jumped when he heard his name and looked back at Steve Raglan, who was seemingly waiting for a response. Mike's throat felt dry. "I, uh, yes? Sorry I.. got lost in thought."
Steve smiled at the response, Mike looked away from him again, trying not to be obvious that he was focusing on the wall behind instead of the olders teeth, he couldn't place it, but something about the smile unnerved him. Steve started to speak. "I simply asked you what your brother was like."
Mike wasn't sure how to answer that. Wasn't sure he wanted to. He fumbled for his wallet and pulled out an old, slightly torn picture of him and Garrett, he gently placed it on the desk, hoping he wouldn't be asked to speak.
Mr. Raglan seemed fine with his silence however, and picked up the picture, studying it. "That plane must've meant alot to him if he managed to sneak it into a family picture."
Mike swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah.. It was. It was his favorite toy. He was playing with it when.. It.. I.." Mike tried to breathe calmly. "I lost it the same day I lost him."
Steve Raglan smiled again. And handed the picture back to Mike. "My little girl used to have a plane exactly like that when she was a kid. Its been collecting dust in the attic for years now, I know she wouldn't mind if I were to let you borrow it." Mr. Raglan had a strange glint his eye when he said that. Mike twitched slightly. "Really?"
"Of course. I'll leave it on your desk before your shift starts. Familiar sights and sounds are the goal aren't they? And even if it doesn't jostle something up there, I'm sure it'll be nice to have it, something to remember him by..."
-
Mike recalled this conversation after helping Abby build her little sleeping fort in his office. In all honesty, he had almost forgotten. But the red and white toy plane still stood there proudly on the desk, innocently looking at him, waiting for him. Mike's hands shaked slightly as he picked it up. He had to remind himself it wasn't actually Garrett's plane, just another toy that belonged to a young girl who he didn't know. A piece of plastic that ultimately didn't have anything to do with the toy his brother loved. Mike set it down shakily, and sat in his chair, staring.
#fnaf movie#fnaf movie spoilers#mike schmidt#steve raglan#william afton#my fic#fnaf#five nights at freddy's
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jason Todd as a Fox instead of a Bat
Request for anon! I took a little bit to turn this over in my brain because the timeline for aftg is so tight and Jason's timelines are... All over the place.
So for reference purposes, I'm calling this an AU where after coming back from the Lazarus pit, he was still trained by Ra's Al Ghul and Talia, however instead of returning to Gotham to become the Red Hood, he takes a detour, quits his life of crime, and signs up for exy.
(It's a bit of a stretch but I think I make it work. This also lowkey made me end up shipping Kevin and Jason)
I'm putting this under a readmore because it accidentally got SUPER long
Jason was first introduced to exy as a pastime sport the trainees from the league of assassins would play. It's good for endurance training, muscle building, etc. etc. and it seemed like a good outlet, so he gave it a shot
His portfolio, much like Neil's, came in the form of a video. He copied and stole the security camera footage from the court they used.
As he gets more into exy he also starts to learn about the teams that are out there and kind of realizes he's not doomed to a life of crime. He can escape this, if he's smart.
And the Foxes are an underdog team. Not many eyes will be on them, so it will be easier to remain hidden if anyone comes looking for him.
The next week, he gets an acceptance email from the school, and a "welcome to the team, see you in a month!" message from a man named David Wymack
(Little did Jason know David would become more of a father to him than Bruce ever was.)
Things aren't exactly rough when he gets there, but he's definitely lived in more pleasant places. The dorm rooms are just fine by him, but the other members of the exy team make him jumpy
Most of them ignore him at first, and he kindly reciprocates.
They get along well enough in practice, Jason preferring to use his larger stature to play a good, solid defense. He's great at planting himself in the way of the oncoming strikers, and they always underestimate his speed because of his size.
(He was always taught to defend and protect, after all...)
It's not until about the events of TFC when Neil starts to bring the team together that Jason really starts to get to know everyone. Kind of reluctantly, since he was happy being on his own with a provided cover story.
But Neil pushes and he gives like a broken dam. There's still that little kid somewhere stuck in there that wishes someone would just care for him.
Eventually he starts to open up on his own to the others, ending up really connecting with Kevin. Kevin and him were both raised by men who wanted the best from them, expected no less, and met disappointment with hard, frozen stairs.
Jason could count on his fingers the times Bruce had smiled at him or told him "good job". Kevin couldn't even name one time the Moriyamas ever did.
And as he opens up he begins to see his family in the faces of his new friends. He sees the bubbly positivity in Nicky that reminds him of Steph. He's hearing the same logical calculations that Tim would make come from Aaron's mouth instead. He sees Dick in every move Matt makes, both of them born for teamwork and support. He sees a flicker of Renee out of the corner of his eye and for a second can swear it's Cass.
While he tells him the things that have happened to them, they're met with stunned silence. But honestly, Jason is grateful for everyone to accept it and go, considering Neil's past is still chasing him. Jason's isn't, at least, not right now
It's not until after the first time Kevin and Jason end up in bed together and they're both shirtless that it really hits them both how fucked up they are. Both their bodies are littered with scars and old injuries.
But there is love and care in healing damaged things and Kevin traces his fingers along the angry lichtenberg scars left by the Lazarus pit.
Anyway they are shortly interrupted by the mob coming after Neil and Jason is basically like "jesus i could take care of this in 0.5 seconds but im not a murderer anymore and Matt has accidentally instilled a moral compass in me"
and then Neil gets fucking KIDNAPPED? and everyone gets roughed up by the crowed and gets taken to the hospital except for Jason who actually kept track of Neil during all this madness knowing there were literal people coming for him and his Vigilante Senses turned on.
NYWAY he tracks Neil to Nathan's hideout and he's basically the one who called it in because he's used to having to do such things from his time as Robin.
Basically Jason would take the place of Neil's uncle because where the fuck did HE even come from and this works better imo.
I decided I didn't want Jason to change much in the story because with his past and ESPECIALLY his time in the league of assassins, he could very easily become an OP Deus Ex Machina instead of a character in a story with ups and downs.
But this also made me want to a) rewrite the whole series but i do NOT have time to do that. but also b) i may end up writing a more in depth fic about Jason and Kevin and if that accidentally evolves into a series then WHOOPS!
Anyway hope you enjoyed!
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
holy shit the hazbin hotel show. wow. incredible. very neat that they went for an almost-musical style because they had so much lore
BY THE WAY! this is a going to be a LONG, ramble-y, spoiler-filled post, so i'm going to put a readmore here and my thoughts on the show will be under the cut. if you don't want to be spoiled for the Hazbin Hotel Official Show TM or don't like hazbin hotel... probably don't read the rest of this post lmao
anyways. here's all my thoughts on it, pretty much. enjoy! :]
i need one of those cat creatures immediately KEESHEE IS SO CUUUTE AWWWW. oh they're called keeshee because that's the. the key. to the hazbin hotel HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THAT UNTIL I FINISHED WATCHING THE SHOW
oh fuck there's just been a huge massacre. rip. this happens every year. i guess charlie isn't really allowed to mourn or grieve for long though? which is weird because it seems like she cares the MOST about her people (demons), so she should at least be allowed to cry about it. maybe sob and wail a little bit, y'know? also be ANGRY ABOUT IT. it'll give her more oomf if she gets to be angry on screen, y'know?
there's kind of a lot of songs but besides the very first one- "a happy day in hell", i think- i like them. the first one kept moving the "camera" around too much, so it was hard to focus
i think something is deeply wrong with niffty, but assuming her connection to alastor is voluntary... yeah i can see it. they're allies (maybe friends?) for a reason
angel dust my boy
SIR PENTIOUS MY BOY!!!!!!!!
sir pentious taking a small chunk out of alastor's coat and alastor getting PISSED was cool. especially because apparently "no one's gotten this much before". damn, dude
poor charlie trying to help these people who have no idea how to accept help because she's demon-born, one of the highest-ranking people in hell, and the rarest sort of person in hell- kind
"let's do trust falls!" charlie says, as most of her little group doesn't do the exercise and niffty uses it as an excuse for her masochist tendencies
angel dust taking them to a night club is kinda funny. sir pentious probably hasn't seen ANY of this shit before. neither has charlie, probably. idk about vaggie, but she's obviously uncomfortable. and oh my god niffty WOULD love being a dom, but honestly probably not for the sex reasons. i don't see her as that kinda person lol, considering she spends most of the show talking about pain and killing bugs with a knife
charlie's mom has been missing for seven years
how is adam an angel if he's an asshole and he hates women? genuine question. of course heaven's judgemental and shit- helluva boss's angels proved that- but like, why is the guy who's basically in charge THAT much of a dipshit
wait alastor's been missing for seven years too??
COINCIDENCE: I THINK NOT. alastor and lilith connection???
valentino is a bitch, naturally. and so are his cronies. and that tv guy. "the vees" or whatever
oh is the tv dude hating alastor a reference to the song "video killed the radio star" because that'd be funny
"he tried to recruit me and now he's mad i said no :)" and y'know what, alastor? slay
"hey, how did you miss me guys?" "we didn't, but i guess you show up anyways" "..." great job alastor, disappearing for seven whole years didn't make you more famous/infamous lol
AN ANGEL EXTERMINATOR IS DEAD AND BEHEADED. WHAT. HOW
there are demons older than alastor??? i mean. damn. that's crazy bro. lol
nooo angel not everyone thinks you're a crackhead!! :(
oh gods, angel dust's trauma. oh god. oh no
ANGEL. ANTHONY. ANGEL DUST MY BOYYYYY 😭
sick ass song though, reminds me of addict (his previous song that's not in the hazbin pilot or hazbin show but is probably still canon anyways)
angel dust and husk's rivalry-turned-i-guess-you're-alright-now thing was neat AND THEY HAD A SONG TOGETHER YESSSSS THAT WAS AMAZINGGGG
WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE HUSKER WAS ONE OF THE OVERLORD HIGH RANKING DEMONS AT ONE POINT WHAT THE FUCK????????
guess we know kinda why he owes alastor "a favor" now, because he was a chronic gambler
why did vaggie get a random duet with this random lady (carmilla arms dealer woman)
okay sir pentious (my boy, i love him, he's my son) calling vaggie "vagatha" was kinda funny
are we SURE that carmilla isn't a former angel? she probably isn't, but she sure is knowledgeable of them
charlie going to heaven to try and bargain with the angels and then using The Orb to cut to the B plot was pretty smart, actually. fucking LOVED that idea. heaven is literally watching, everyone :)
angel dust protecting his friendssss aughhhhh
FUCK valentino. FUCKKKK VALENTINO I HATE HIM. i hate that his moth demon design thing is cool because if it wasn't i could fully hate him
okayyyy SO vaggie's previous backstory as a pop star who committed suicide has been retconned. alright then. they said "what will give our beloved fans the MOST heartache? i know! let's make charlie's girlfriend with an underdeveloped sense of character in this show because the pacing kinda sucks a FORMER ANGEL. A KILLER ONE. THE MURDEROUS ONES THAT WE'RE TRYING TO STOP"
girl. vaggie. it's pretty obvious now that i'm looking back that everyone knows you're an angel. EXCEPT FOR ME, APPARENTLY. BECAUSE SHE HAD A DIFFERENT BACKSTORY PREVIOUSLY. WHAT
NO ONE KNOWS HOW ANYONE GETS INTO HEAVEN?????
andnfjfgjsjdn the pacing again- i was laughing at a joke they made in the show and suddenly they cut to charlie sobbing 💀 i had to rewind to be able to process that- augh
didn't love charlie getting stressed and sad- poor charlie- but LOVED charlie telling alastor FUCK YOU. that was awesome
"oh, alastor, i know you're an ace in the hole" "i'm a what now?" rosie's telling you you're asexual, alastor
vaggie telling the hotel residents that she'd understand if they left
nooo charlie and vaggie fighting actually means something now :(
OMG CARMILLA GOT HER OWN SONG YESSSS i love it
charlie yelling "FUCK YOU, YOU OLD BITCH" at that lady in cannibal town was awesome
VAGGIE AND CHARLIE COME BACK TO THE HAZBIN RESIDENTS TRYING TO FORTIFY THE HOTEL AAAAAWWWW
charlie getting vaggie a souvenir from cannibal town and vaggie immediately tearing up because she knew charlie forgave her was cuuuute
FUCK YEAH GIRLFRIENDS KISSING!! WHOOOOOO LET'S GO GAY PEOPLE!!! I LOVE IT
*smash bros ultimate announcer voice* EVERYONE IS HERE!
except for like... most of hell lmao
at least the vee's are watching lol
THE FINAL FIGHT WAS SO COOL OH MY GODSSS
charlie's war gear being a dress that looked like an APPLE CORE LIKE HER DAD AAAAAAAAAAA
NOOOO ALASTOR!! oh he's fine actually. thanks vox for confirming that alastor's not dead lmao
aww sir pentious actually got to show his interest in cherri bomb without chickening outttt awwwww
NOOOO MY BOY SIR PENTIOUS NOOOOOOOOOO HE SACRIFICED HIMSEEEELFFFFFFFF FUCK DUDE NOOO
fun fact: i actually had to pause the show for a few seconds to put my head in my hands because NOOO SIR PENTIOUS MY SON BOY BABY BOY
FATHER'S HERE TO SAVE HIS DAUGHTERRR
i love how easily lucifer dodged adam's attacks lmao
"TASTE MY MERCY, BITCH" another iconic line from mr. duck-collector king-of-hell himself
niffty coming in and stabbing adam a bunch of times was awesome
"charlie told me to stab, so i stabbed :)" niffty. love her. weird little freak. epic
alastor coming back to the hotel ONLY after a breakdown and being like "i'm fine now guys :)" is... uncannily relatable LMAO
"ugh, this guy" lucifer. he nearly died, calm down with the sass for a second, sir
"i will never understand your taste" me neither, alastor. i don't think anyone quite understands niffty
the news describing it as "lucifer's pathetic daughter saved by her daddy" makes sense but. jeez what an asshole way to put it. she's an adult! and the PRINCESS OF HELL no less!!
AAAAAAAAAA MY BOY SIR PENTIOUSSSSSSSS AUGH
"uhhh.... where am i?"
emily's face being ":D!!" and sera's face being like. horrified. was amazing
#void keith talks#void keith's opinions#void keith rambles#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel show#hazbin spoilers#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel show spoilers#MAJOR hazbin hotel spoilers#cool shows#cool tv shows
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why "You're not HSP, you're autistic!" isn't helpful but actually counterproductive
So first, let me explain my background on this:
I'm a social worker. Communication is my daily tool, especially with people in crisis
I identify as HSP but not as autistic. I have reasons for that.
I'm also a lesbian, and have been active in the queer community for literal decades. This includes discussion about labels, self-identification, labels based in discriminatory thinking, etc.
lastly, I'm acutely aware of intersectionality, internalized biases, and where they can lead us
Next, let me outline who this post is for:
anyone who is convinced of the above sentence (and wants to convince others too)
anyone who is uncertain which label applies to them, but feels like it might be one of the two
anyone who knows they are one or both of the above labels and wants to communicate with others.
I'll put my arguments under the Readmore, so as not to clutter up people's dashes; this is gonna get long. In essence, they boil down to:
You-messages like the above very rarely work.
telling someone their own identity typically doesn't work.
a researcher's ableism doesn't necessarily mean their whole entire body of work needs to be thrown out.
HSP and autism have several overlapping criteria, however that does not mean that HSP equals autism.
Lastly, let me tell you why it's important:
we all, no matter how we label ourselves, seek for tools (self help, therapy, apps, etc.) that will improve our lives. Some of the tools from the Autism Toolbox will work for me, some from the ADHD Toolbox too - but not all of them.
currently, there is another toolbox labeled HSP, and the tools in there are perfect for me. I only found them because I found the label HSP; I did not find them in the Autism or ADHD Toolbox. Maybe one day these toolboxes will be integrated into one, maybe under the autism label, who knows. But RIGHT NOW they are not. Right now, they are labeled HSP or SPS, and those are the terms I needed to search for to find them - no matter that the terms might be badly chose
"you're not HSP, you're autistic" denies that this HSP Toolbox even exists, and so people will not find all the tools that can make their life better.
Okay, here's the long form of my arguments.
You-messages like the above very rarely work.
Most people's gut reaction to being told "You are not X, you're actually Y!" is "who are you to tell me what I am?" or "who are you to tell me that my conclusion is wrong?" Such a reaction is, as stated, not helpful, and usually counterproductive. It puts the person being told "You're Y" on the defensive, and people don't change their mind when they feel defensive.
If you are truly convinced that this person is autistic, it is far more helpful to put this in an I-message, and temper it with a potentiality: "I think/it seems to me, from what you describe, that you could be autistic." And then to follow this up with, for example, a question like "have you ever considered that?" so that they can explain if, perhaps, they have already looked into that, or tell you that no, they haven't, what's your reasoning?
They might still react defensively due to their own ableism against being potentially autistic. But they can tell themselves "okay, that was just this person's opinion, I don't have to listen to them," which is actually a much less conflict-ridden outcome.
telling someone their own identity typically doesn't work.
Let's look at another way of telling someone their own identity: "You're not a gender non-conforming cis woman, you're actually trans!" - how do you, an internet stranger, know? All you have is a few sentences that someone posted somewhere; they, meanwhile, know their own lived reality 24/7 of however many years they've lived with it. Again, this kind of communication leads to defensiveness.
Even if it's true - and that's an important thing to keep in mind.
This person might be trans. That person might be autistic. But unless and until they are ready to hear that, to think about that as a possibility, to test apply that label to themselves and see if it fits? You telling them will do jack shit. Especially in a confrontative You-message. It might even lead to them taking longer to embrace that part of their own identity; out of spite ("just because some random internet stranger said I was doesn't mean I am"), out of fear ("I don't want people to know this about me; am I that easy to clock?"), of out internalized bias against the identity ("I can't possibly be this!").
a researcher's ableism doesn't necessarily mean their whole entire body of work needs to be thrown out.
I see the ableism in Aron's work. And in that of other researchers. Bias against autism is unfortunately still rampant, even in psychology, even in neurosciences. And I understand the pain of seeing that, of being belittled, dismissed, being made invisible. And I further understand the gut reaction to not want to have anything to do with a person who is like that, who does that.
That is not, however, how science works. Science needs to take an objective look at what is presented, check it for biases (among other things), and if found, check whether those biases truly invalidate the entire body of work, or parts of it, and then throw those out and also check if sense can be made of the data/findings without those biases.
That is what further research and peer review is all about, and that is being done right now. This has been the case throughout medical history, as well as all other sciences. Heck, for the longest time (including even today), one form of autism was named after a fucking Nazi ramp doctor.
Again, I know the pain that bias in science can cause. I've been at the receiving end, I know plenty of people who have been on the receiving end, I see your pain. I understand wanting to be seen, not dismissed. I understand wanting to lash out.
However, when you do so by telling people "you're not HSP, you're actually autistic", the only people that you hurt are the ones who are seeking help, who are vulnerable and in pain themselves. It wasn't all that long ago that especially girls and women (or people perceived as such by parents, teachers, doctors) were told "You're not autistic; girls can't be autistic." It hurt them. It denied them access to help that they sorely needed. Don't perpetuate that, please - even if you are truly convinced that this person is, in fact, autistic: please refer to the above two bullet points to understand why telling them in that way won't help.
HSP and autism have several overlapping criteria
and it is possible to be both, it is possible to identify first as one, then the other, and it is possibly to mistakingly think you're one when you're actually the other. However that does not mean that HSP equals autism in every single case - not according to current psychological and neurological knowledge.
I score well below the threshold for every single autism test. Like, it's not even close. Even the ones that test for typically-overlooked autism criteria, even the ones that test for how autism presents in women, all of them. The experiences that autistic people describe, of studying social interactions until they can mimic them perfectly, know what to say and how to react because they've seen other people do so and can replicate that - none of that is me. By all criteria known to current science, I am not autistic.
I have, however, undeniably a high sensitivity to external input, sensory processing sensitivity, funnel not filter, high-wired brain, however you want to name it. I don't care what it's called; all I care about is that I understand how I work, how my brain works, so that I can finally get the bottom back under my feet. That is why I was trying to see if I'm autistic: because that would have helped me make sense of what is going on, of how I feel wrong all the time; and it would have enabled me to seek out therapy that was actually helpful. I would not have minded an autism diagnosis; I would have welcomed it, precisely because of that.
And it was never the right fit. And god, how that frustrated me. And I know you know that feeling, of looking at this box and that label and this study and that doctor, and they all tell you "no, this isn't you, not precisely." And you know that you don't fit in with society, that you're different than other people, who seem to fit in so easily, who go through life so blithely when you simply can't, and you just wanna know why that is and how to change it, how to make things so that you can go through life blithely too.
The overlap between HSP and autism is large.
And maybe, further down the line and the years, science will come up with a concept that combines autism and HSP or SPS or whatever they call it currently. And when that time comes, I'll embrace that concept just like I'm embracing HSP as a concept right now, just like I would have embraced an autism diagnosis. But until that happens, we need to keep both of these labels, diagnoses, whatever you want to call them, open and available for people.
Because while the overlap is large (just like autism and ADHD have some overlap), it isn't a circle; it's a Venn diagram with some communal and some separate aspects. And I fall into the pool that isn't overlapping with autism. Others don't. Squares and rhombuses can coexist, and so can autistic people and highly sensitive people; I'm 100% convinced that plenty of accommodations, tools, helpful tricks work for us both.
But some of them are not fully the right fit, and that is important. In the end, that is what this is about, and why we need both terms, both concepts, and why conflating them isn't helpful: the people who fall under any of these diagnoses need to find the correct help, the correct tools for living their lives in the best way possible. The way I need to arrange my life, the strategies I need to develop and the accommodations I need to implement, have lots in common with what an autistic person might need - lots, but not everything. Just like different autistic people will need different things. And people with ADHD need different things (and also some of the same things). But when you point me only to the Autism Toolbox, I will not find everything I need, just like an ADHD person won't. And that makes my life harder than it needs to be.
Currently, I find the tools that I need in a box labeled HSP. I don't care if they stay in there, if the box gets relabeled, if it gets integrated into the autism toolbox. All I care about is that I have access to them, that other people who need the same tools have access to them. I have started to work with an HSP coach, who I found because I found the label HSP, and when I tell you that my life has massively improved since then, I want you to hear that.
When you say "you're not HSP, you're actually autistic," one of the things you're doing is you deny people access to the tools they need.
And I won't stand for that.
91 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
snowblossomreads
"And How Much Is Art Really Worth?"
karfonel
Без названия
shooting-the-stars
❁ִ〬 ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ✦ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ❁〬
solara-bean
Solara Bean
mandatorywhimsy
Mandatory Whimsy