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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

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COSMIC - S3:E3; Chapter Three, The Case of The Missing Lifeguard - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘌𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘋&𝘋. 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦.

⚠️: more Billy/Mind Flayer shenanigans, more Y/n being Not Straight™️ and slight, whatever the huffy, whiney hell Hopper was during a majority of the season

📝: yall, idk how to describe hairstyles so I'm gonna clear it up now; the hairstyle Y/n is doing on El is the coil ponytail she wears at the end in That Scene™️ 🥲🚚👋📝🛣

Yes, I regret the whole "sisters" failsafe I put in specifically to stop myself. But as it turns out, no I cannot suppress the gay. So innocent, mutual pining ahead! 🥳🎉🌈

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

A pair of sock-covered feet bounce happily on the carpeted floor as Madonna's Angel blasts through the radio on the dresser. Max jumps back and forth on El's bedroom carpet, singing into the hairbrush she had found on the nightstand. Beside her, sitting on the bed is the girl herself, sporting her new colorful look; engrossed in a selection of teen magazines that are splayed out before her.

"You must be an angel,"

El bobs her head along with the tune, careful of Y/n's hand weaving through her hair from where she's kneeled behind her on the bed. She grins up at Max before going back to her work, her lips moving as she silently sings along.

"I can see it in your eyes,"

Y/n finishes the last coil behind El's left ear, and pulls it together with the other, merging her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. After she tightens the bright blue scrunchie one last time, she mutters a defeated, "Alright. I tried," before she maneuvers around El across the mattress and allows herself to fall back on the right side of the bed, her head propped up on the rows of pillows. She grabs a magazine, boredly sifting through it while El delicately feels around the back of her head with a smile, admiring Y/n's work.

"Full of wonder and surprise,"

El's attention quickly returns to the magazine in her hands when she flips the page. She has to turn it sideways to see the whole thing. A young man, who El guessed to be just a little older than Steve, was smiling back at her.

Max's singing and dancing come to a slow when she notices El lingering on the page. With a chuckle, she discards the hairbrush from where she found it and kneels beside the bed.

"Oh, you found Ralph Macchio," Max simpers.

"Macchio?" El asks with a smile.

"Yeah," Max nods. "he's the Karate Kid,"

Both and El and Y/n jump when Max suddenly cuts the air in a mock karate chop and yells, "Hai-yah!"

They giggle and Y/n just rolls her eyes playfully. Particularly, at what comes next.

"He's so hot, right?" Max asks.

An amused grin glues itself to Y/n's face as her eyes peek out over the top of magazines to catch El's reaction. Y/n's smile spreads, buried under the pages when she sees El's face lit up in a blush.

"I bet he's an amazing kisser, too," Max says, drawing out a funny look in El's eyes. "Hey, uh,"

Y/n finds her eyes drawn to Max when she feels the old mattress dip a little under her weight. She notices a funny, almost intrigued look on her face.

"is Mike a good kisser?" She asks.

Y/n lets out an involuntarily "Blech!" At the question, discarding her magazine back to the pile with her nose scrunched up in disgust despite the smile still on her lips.

El laughs at Y/n, lightly shoving her knees that sat propped up above her as she shoots her a smile. "Not 'blech',"

Y/n has to readjust her head on the pillows to gawk up at El properly, a funny look hidden in her eyes.

"Wait, so is he like, actually," Y/n makes another face, failing to get through the sentence with a straight face. She laughs a little, putting a mocking tone in her voice. "'good' at kissing?"

El doesn't answer right away, much too confused with the direction this conversation had gone. She blushes again, giving her awaiting friends a bashful shrug.

"I don't know. He's my first boyfriend,"

Max is quick to correct her, but she does so gently. "Ex-boyfriend,"

El's face falls.

But Max is also quick to console her. She lands a gentle hand on El's shoulder, her voice going soft.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Okay?" El still doesn't seem too sure. "He'll come crawling back to you in no time, begging for forgiveness."

Y/n subconsciously fiddles with the ring pop still on her finger, a thin sheet of plastic still covering the candy diamond.

"I guarantee you, him and Lucas are, like, totally wallowing in self-pity and misery right now," Max's face scrunches up as she mocks the aforementioned exes. "They're like, 'Oh, I hope they take us back!'"

Y/n laughs, her left hand lightly smacking Max's arm, grabbing her attention.

"Yeah, but, Mike's probably more like," Max fights a sudden laugh when she catches the knowing look in Y/n's eyes. "'I hope they take us back! They have to—'"

Neither Max nor Y/n can fight the grin breaking out on both their faces as they finish in perfect sync.

-"take us back! Nyeh-nyeh-NYEH!"

Once again delightfully confused, El's stare travels between her newest best friend and her oldest; a warm feeling burrowing deep in her chest and gut, her stomach aflutter as she laughs with them.

"God, what I wouldn't give to see the look on their stupid faces," Max says, shaking her head wistfully.

El goes quiet, something neither of her friends miss.

"What is it?" Max asks.

That seems to snap everything into place, and Y/n props herself up on her hands. There's enough mischief in her eyes to match El's, and she quirks a brow.

"Wait. Are you serious?"

El only smirks, shrugging her shoulders.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Max asks, only to find herself under two impish stares.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El sits cross-legged against her dresser, the radio switched to static sitting just above her head. In her hands is the multi-colored headband Y/n had gifted to her over the holidays when her hair started to fall in her face. They both knew it could also double as a comfortable, makeshift blindfold in case she ever found herself traveling to the void again.

As she prepared to do now.

She hooks the headband over her head, pulling it down over her eyes as Y/n and Max took a seat.

"Is this really gonna work?" Max asks excitedly from where she's perched on the edge of the bed.

El nods, and Max's face lights up in awe.

"Holy shit, this is insane-!"

"Max."

"Right, quiet. I'm sorry,"

Y/n chuckles up at her noiselessly, completely understanding the excitement of it all. Particularly, since she had never once witnessed El demonstrating these powers unless it had been necessary.

Then came the waiting part.

Y/n had forgotten about the waiting.

It was all they could do. Wait as they watch El draw in a deep breath, allowing her mind to reach out to the person it had most.

She feels the imaginary water at her feet first, as she always did. It didn't take her as long as it used to to fine-tune the distorted voices cutting in and out, much like what she found her radio to do sometimes. But she did it soon enough.

She's back in the void, for the first time in a long while.

Part of her was worried it would be harder without as much practice as she got last year, but it wasn't.

The image that lay ahead of her was clear, the voices even clearer.

"What did I do wrong? What could I have done wrong?"

Mike.

He was laying on the couch. The one from his basement. El recognized it immediately.

And he wasn't alone, that much she had suspected.

"Do I have to go through this again?" Lucas asks, sounding tired.

He was pacing around the couch, rubbing his face. Will was with them, he was hovering over the small table she had sat at only years ago.

"I see them," El says.

Max lowers herself to the carpet, sitting next to Y/n who leans in curiously.

"What are they doing?" Y/n asks.

"Eating."

The crunch of Dorito chips Mike had shoved into his mouth was loud enough to echo out across the entire void. He continues through an obnoxious mouthful.

"I just don't understand what I did to deserve this,"

El has neared them now, and she turns her head curiously to Will when he scoffed. He looked frustrated, and he sounded it too. But El could tell he was trying to fight it for the sake of his friends' feelings.

"Look, it sucks that that happened," he says. "But why don't you guys try and take your mind off of it for-"

"For the last time, Will. No! Not now," Lucas says, turning away just in time to miss the boy's shoulders slump. He back to Mike, releasing a heavy sigh. "You didn't do anything, Mike. That's my whole point. You're the victim here."

El's eyes fall back to Mike, not all sure about what she was feeling.

"I know," he cries out. "It's just, why is she treating me this way?"

"Mike-"

"I don't know." Frustrated, he shakes his head. "What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?!"

"Mike, stop it!" Will has to yell to be heard, but his friends eventually turn their attention his way. "you know what you did wrong!"

They watch him carefully, as does El.

Just grateful to have their attention, he softens just a notch "You messed up, alright? But there's just not much you can do right now,"

"He's right," Lucas sighs, bending over to move Mike's feet out of to make room before taking a seat. "I mean, we told the truth and everything,"

Will let out a bitter laugh. "No, you didn't! You got caught! You told them you were shopping for them, but that's it. You still kept lying about your Nana,"

Max and Y/n watch El carefully, the only indication something had happened came from her angered sigh.

"They lied about Nana," she says finally.

"Oh, I knew it," Max hissed.

Y/n merely placed her forehead in her hands tiredly as she waited for more information.

"But we still tried! That's gotta count for something," Mike cries, stuffing more food into his mouth. "I mean, shouldn't that count for something?"

"Mike, relax. Just... relax," Lucas sighs into his hands yet again, clearly exasperated. "And stop asking rational questions."

"I know, I know. You're right," Mike sighs. His expression quickly turned bitter as he sent his friends a sour look. "Because women act on emotion and not logic,"

"Precisely," Lucas nods. "It's a totally different species."

El's breathing grows deeper and for a moment the pair of friends fear the worst. But the truth was, while El didn't quite exactly know what they were saying, she knew it was foul.

"They say we are 'species'."

-"What?"

-"Come again?"

"'Emotion, not logic."

-"What?"

-"Come again?"

Will shifted on his feet, looking unsure as to what to say, or if he should at all.

"Will is upset,"

Y/n scoffs, looking between Max and El. "He should be if they're saying that shit." She fires, worry briefly taking over her anger over the doubtful thought seeded in her mind. Quickly she leaned forward.

"Wait, he wasn't saying that was he?"

Relief sweep over her when El shakes her head.

She finds her eyes on him again, looking as if he was trying too hard to fit in and not say the wrong thing. El hadn't known him for terribly long, but she knew enough to realize this shouldn't be normal.

"Guys," he says, his eyes darting to the small table he had been setting up. "Come on, it's ready. You already said you'd play a month ago when Dustin got back. I've been planning ever since! And I really think it'll help take your mind off of all this."

Lucas groans.

"Will! We already told you. Not right now," he shakes his head as if scolding a small child.

"They are upset with him."

"Why?" Y/n pressed, sharing an equally concerned look with Max.

"They broke up with you, what else is there to talk about?"

"Easy for you to say, you still have a girlfriend!" Mike throws back.

"'Easy for Will to say,'" El repeats.

Y/n could only imagine what they were putting Will through right now. Or just what her words could mean. Her guilt from having to cancel weighed heavier and heavier.

"He says..."

They all watch, El included, as all his frustrations boil over.

"Well, none of that matters now, does it?!"

Shocked at his outburst, Lucas and Mike break into matching, sour grins nevertheless.

"Then join us, Will," Mike says, sharing a smirk with Lucas. "Join us in trying to figure the greatest mystery of all; the female species!"

"What? What's he saying?" Y/n asked.

But she receives no answer. El had fallen quiet.

El cocks her head, her glare thrown to each boy like daggers, feeling an anger of her own. As well as a protectiveness.

That didn't last long, however. Not moments after, Mike seemed to be challenging his own foul behavior. His mouth opened up wide, letting loose a deep and billowing belch.

"Dude," Mike laughed lazily, gesturing around him as he grinned up at his friends. "You can smell the nacho cheese,"

El recoiled, her upper lip hooking in a grimace both in and out of the void.

She's relieved to see even one of them disgusted by his antics — Will, but it doesn't change her annoyance. But it was better, and far less confusing than Lucas who broke out in a sly grin.

"I get that beat,"

"What?" Mike mumbles in between picking his teeth with his tongue.

Baffled, El looks to Will again whose face pales. He quickly shakes his head, his words pleading.

"Oh, no."

"No, Lucas," Mike says, jumping in. "No!"

El watches curiously as Lucas's grin stretches wider — "No, Lucas!" — and he lifts his right leg — "Lucas! LUCAS!" — and...

El stumbles back in shock when the sound hits suddenly. It echoed louder than the burp had — far louder — and only grows louder as Lucas lifts his leg higher.

El rips the headband off her head to reveal her widened eyes, her shoulders moving and falling in a panicked-like state.

Never blinking, her mouth still wrenched open in shock, she turns to gape at her friends.

"What happened?"

She didn't answer.

"Are you okay?" Y/n pressed, fearing the worst.

She breaks out in a grin, a fit of sudden giggles sent her slouching into the carpet and her head landing in Y/n's lap. Max and Y/n welcomed her reaction with open arms, her infectious laughter spreading to them despite the utter bewilderment they were feeling. Y/n looked down at her friend, trying not to laugh.

El managed to peel her eyes open long enough to see Y/n's crooked smile poking into her view of the ceiling and she loses it all over again.

"What?" She laughs.

"What happened?"

El clutched her aching sides. Every time she tried to speak, the silliness of it all stole her words all over again.

It had been completely revolting and

angering. But it was also the most fun she'd ever had in that horrible place. This also being why it was so hard to wipe the smile from her face.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Will stumbled back as far away as possible from the massive stink cloud he was sure would drown him. Mike had stumbled off the couch, waving at the air as Will buried his nose in his shirt.

"Oh, man," Mike groans. "what the hell, Lucas?"

"Come on, that was impressive,"

"So was Will," Mike shoots him a knowing smirk. "Finally realizing the frustrations of the female species,"

"That wasn't what I said," he shakes his head, growing angrier by the second. "I said it doesn't matter if I have a girlfriend or not right now cause I can't see her! Both of us have to clean up your messes and it's the same reason why we missed our six month anniversary last month,"

Both Mike and Lucas wince. "Congrats?"

Will sighs, throwing himself in his seat at the D&D table.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The cabin's front door was nearly thrown off its hinges as an inebriated Hopper stumbled across the threshold. The door slammed shut behind him, shaking the room as he huffed and puffed. Several times he nearly lost his balance just standing still, but despite the blurred vision and numbed senses he could still make out the muffled radio from his daughter's room.

That wasn't good. At least, that's all Hopper could comprehend right away before he pieced together why; that always meant Mike was here.

And the door was shut.

"Hey!" No response. "Hey!"

The ache of rejection and embarrassment he had been feeling all night had been drowned in bottles of wine from Enzo's, numbing a great deal when Joyce had failed to show. But it couldn't quite extinguish his anger, and that was all that was left now. And he had no problem channeling that into this moment.

In his drunken state, he manages to march across the living room without stumbling into anything and his voice rises behind his gritted teeth.

"When I say three inches, three-"

A small yelp and a short burst of hot hair stinging his sweating skin and knocking over the lamp on the desk was the first thing he registered after the boom of the door being busted open. Before him, was the sight of El and her friends lounging across her floor, flipping through magazines and gawking up at him.

He realized then what had happened judging by Y/n drawing in a deep breath, and dropping her head into her hands. She had clearly been especially startled being so close to the door and had inadvertently created a mini shockwave that swept across every loose item in the room. He could hear her cursing into her hands as Max glared up at him.

"Do you knock?! Jeez!"

"Yeah!" El repeated. "Jeez!"

At that moment, Hopper couldn't remember a time he had back-pedaled so quickly. He could hear his slurred words stringing together a nervous apology.

"Wo-wo-oh, hey," he gulps. "I'm sorry."

The three girls continue to gawk up at him from the floor.

"I thought that, uh-,"

"If you were expecting Mike, he isn't here," Y/n said.

"We wanted to have a sleepover," El says, still beyond excited at the thought of having one since Y/n told her about them almost a year ago. "Is that...okay?"

"Yeah,"

The word fell out of Hopper's mouth before he could will it, his entire demeanor melting away in relief.

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah," he said, his voice going higher than normal as he stumbled through the tension. "Your parents know you guys are here?"

"Yup," Max says, and Y/n nods.

Blazing through the past few moments, or at least attempting to, Hopper waves his arm dismissively and his slurring intensifies.

"Uh, yeah, it's cool. Yeah. That's-That's really cool."

This was great! His "heart-to-heart" had worked. At least the way he did it. He couldn't count on his hands the number of times he had asked El about the others; silently hoping she'd take the hint and get him out of long, awkward discussion. But she never had, she only went on about Mike, and the more the summer stretched on the less he heard about Y/n or—

"Did you need something?" Max asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He hadn't realized he had been just standing there, swaying slightly and zoning out.

He was overstepping. He could see that now. And not just because of the embarrassment written all over his daughter's face.

"No, no," he says quickly, shaking his head and making a lazy grab for the doorknob. "Uh, I'll leave. I'll just let you... I'll leave you..."

His voice trails off before being swallowed completely when the door shuts with a click. For a moment, Hopper just stands there processing it all.

A smirk hooked his lips.

No Mike.

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taleofharrison · 3 years

Text

The First Christmas | Ashton Irwin

Summary: It’s the first time Ashton spends Christmas with you and your little gir (single mom!reader)

Warnings: Italics small flashback

Requested: No jthis is for the Christmas Celebration so...

Word Count: 1279

A/N: Fourth post and final post for the Christmas writng hope you enjoy and Merry Christmas

MASTERLIST HERE | Michael | Calum | Luke

“Mommy! Mommy!” your little 5-year-old Morgan squealed running towards you “Do you like it?”

She had a piece of cardboard in her hand, you guessed it must be her most recent piece of art so you stopped what you were doing in the kitchen to give her all the attention.

“It’s pretty” you told her truthfully. It was a drawing of her, Ashton, and you next to the Christmas tree full and it had glitter everywhere.

“It’s for Ash” she smiled again making your heart warm at how much she loved him.

Your relationship with Ashton had been perfect from the start and sure you may have your disagreements every now and then but never major fights and it felt like a dream every single day, you met through a mutual friend he told you Ash would be perfect for you.

The first time you told him about your daughter Morgan the first thing he asked was if he could see pictures of her.

“She looks like you” he smiled “I know it’s only our third date, but I would like to meet her”

“Let’s see where we’re at in a couple of months and we’ll see” his words had taken you aback and your answer also surprised you. It was then when you knew this relationship would be different.

Half a year later into your relationship like you promised he was meeting Morgan officially, the pair got along almost immediately sure Morgan, who back then was 4 years old, felt shy and insecure a around him at the start but you didn’t expect a different reaction and neither did Ashton but she warmed up to him rather quickly anyways and now here you were getting ready to spend your first Christmas with him.

“Will he like it?” she asked a small hint of worry in her voice.

“He’s gonna love it” you assured her “go put it by the Christmas tree before he gets here”

The sound coming from the doorbell was a sign telling Ashton was outside and your daughter squealed with glee making you smile; she had grown so fond of Ashton this Christmas meant the world to her.

When you opened the door, the girl ran and crashed with Ashton’s legs smiling two bags of gifts in her hands, one small the other one a lot bigger.

“There’s my little ladybug” he smiled ruffling her hair “Merry Christmas”

“Merry Christmas Ash” she giggled.

He finally made his way inside your house so he could properly kiss you and greet you, Morgan ran back to the living and sat waiting next to the card she had made for him.

“I have some Santa gifts in my car” he mumbled “We can go get them once she’s asleep”

“You didn’t have to”

“But I wanted to” he shrugged “and I brought this for you and her you can open them before her bedtime”

“You spoil us too much”

After dinner it was time to exchange the gifts that were by the Christmas tree. Morgan was the first one giving Ashton the card she had done for him.

“It’s really pretty Morgan thank you” he said “I think I’m going to frame it”

Ashton gave you your gift which was on the small bag. It was a framed picture of your first family day at Disneyland you remember it clearly it was the first time his bandmates tagged along with you and Luke was the one who took that of photo of you. It was simple yet the most perfect gift you could’ve asked.

For Ashton however you had gotten him vinyl’s you knew he didn’t have, most of them from bands during the 70’s. It took you months to figure out what to give to your rockstar boyfriend but still he was a quite simple man and appreciated every small detail you had with him.

“And now this one’s for you, ladybug” he pulled the bigger bag he had brought and put it in front of your daughter.

When Morgan opened the bag, her eyes lit up it was the fluffiest pink dress she’d ever saw, and it had glitter everywhere.

“I love it daddy” and there it was the 5 letters word she had yet to said. Ashton had always been ‘Ash’ for her, but it was safe to say that he was a lot more than that now.

“Glad you like it princess” he simply said no hiding the grin that was forming on his face.

“Well…uhm-Morgan” you spoke again “time for bed or Santa won’t come”

“Okay mommy” she replied putting her dress back in bag “don’t forget the cookies and milk for Santa”

“No, sweetie” you assured her “and you can wear your new dress tomorrow”

After you tucked her in her bed and gave her a goodnight kiss on her forehead you made your way back to the living room with Ashton.

“About that... “you tried to explain.

“Don’t” he said “Uhm I don’t mind, I kinda saw it coming”

You gave him a questioning look. You didn’t quite understand his attitude.

“She’s a lovely kid” he stated “and we’ve been dating for a year now and it’s been serious, like deadly serious, since you introduced me to her I guess it was a matter of time”

…

“MOMMY!”

The next morning the hyperactive Morgan woke you up jumping on your side of bed, Ashton had stayed the night so naturally he jolted awake at the disturbance.

“Come se my presents” she said.

“Yeah baby why don’t you go downstairs and while you open your gifts with Ash while I can make breakfast for the three of us” you suggested “how does that sound?”

She nodded running back downstairs “Sorry about that” you told Ashton once she was gone.

“It’s the Christmas morning” he pointed out “you can’t really blame her”

What came next it was the most wholesome scene you had ever seen. It was Morgan saying “daddy look at this...” “daddy look at that…” while showing him each one of the gifts Santa had left her.

“Will Mike come today?” she suddenly asked. She had taken quite a liking for his friends specially Michael.

“Uhm no, they are in Australia with their families” he said “remember where my mom lives and it’s too far”

“Oh…” the girl displayed a disappointed sad face.

“But they’ll come back soon” he quickly responded “and you can celebrate New Year with them”

“Okay” she said.

“Hey! Don’t be sad, go get your stuffed animals let’s have a tea that always cheers you up” Ashton offered, and she nodded going back to her room to get her favorite toys.

“Do you think it’s time to meet my family?” he asked going to the kitchen grabbing the coffee you had ready for him “Like in person?”

You had facetimed Ashton’s mom and a few times Morgan joined too, and she already loved you for making her son so happy.

“I mean I already met your family…”

“My family lives in the same country, silly” you teased him “and whenever you want to take us to Australia, I’m ready. I think Morgan can handle a flight that long by now”

“Really?” there was hope in his voice as though he couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah” you nodded “Didn’t you say this relationship was deadly serious?”

Ashton laughed at you quoting his words from last night.

“But now for real now, I do want to go know more about you, where you come from” you told him “so whenever you want to take us there I’m-we’re ready to take that step”

“I love you so much”

#5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #ashton irwin blurbs #ashton irwin fluff #dad!sos #dad!5sos #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin imagine #5sos fic #5sos fics #christmas!sos #angela is writing #My Writing Corner

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hawkinsschoolcounselor · 4 years

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I respect your opinion, and even if our opinions do not agree, I always read your posts with rapture. My question is: if I understood correctly(correct me if I’m wrong),you think that Jancy and Jopper don’t have a deep connection, while Byler does? How does it manifest? Jancy and Jopper have always supported each other, they have a deep connection both emotionally and mentally. While Mike in Season 3 left a friend for a girl. I have nothing against Byler, just want to read your arguments

I appreciate your kind words. I can probably safely say that you are the first person to ever claim to feel rapturous because of me. The following is, naturally, my opinion, and, while I believe it to be an educated opinion, it is as such not meant to cause offense if it clashes with your or anyone else’s opinion.

think Jancy and Jopper are relationships with a mutual attraction. The problem is they haven’t really had much opportunity to develop in a healthy fashion. I don’t think either relationship is necessarily bad, but they are both still formed on a foundation of shared traumatic experience. Yes, each couple was acquainted before the supernatural horror entered their lives, but they weren’t close. They ended up growing close as they supported each other through the various crises that have cropped up. When we see them not in the midst of trauma, they are shown not really understanding each other very well.

Mike and Will, on the other hand, have known each other, and have been best friends, since kindergarten. Mike has always been intensely protective of Will and fearful of something happening to him. The thought of losing Will has been a great fear of his since season 1. Will and Mike trust each other in a way they don’t with anyone else. They reveal secrets to each other, sharing their vulnerabilities. Will starts to regain some semblance of control over himself after Mike relates the story of their first meeting. You can literally see his eyes change from a blank stare when Mike starts speaking to teary eyes when Mike finishes.

Season 3 was there to show us that every relationship had problems, but we never really got to see any definitive resolution for any of them. Jonathan and Nancy had no understanding of each other’s unique goals, insecurities, or hurdles, and this led to their fight. Jonathan couldn’t accept that Nancy, as a woman, needed to work twice as hard to get accepted. Nancy was blind to the fact that Jonathan couldn’t afford to blow the internship since he didn’t have family resources to fall back on. We never really see them apologize and acknowledge what each other are going through, and Jonathan even tosses Nancy’s careless Oliver Twist jab back at her. Meanwhile, Hopper and Joyce are just a mess. Joyce is still mourning Bob. Hopper asks her out to dinner, but also promises it’s not a date. Nevertheless, when she skips out on it to talk to Mr. Clark, he becomes enraged with her and bounces between admiration and callousness towards her for the remainder of the season. Neither one felt comfortable just telling the other their feelings. They finally agree on a real date at the end (where they weren’t even sure they would survive), but I don’t recall either one really apologizing (correct me if I’m wrong).

Mike and Will’s problems, meanwhile, aren’t about the failure to build the relationship, but, rather, the apparent (in Will’s mind) decline of it. It starts small, with Will being annoyed at Mike spending a lot of time with El (being late to the movie and bailing on Dustin’s radio booster). Still, we see that Mike is still intensely concerned for Will at the movie, and we see how much it hurts Will when it seems like Mike doesn’t care anymore. Their problems come across as more genuine because of their already established bond. Their fight is showcased as very dramatic, and perhaps even tragic, compared to the other two. We also see how each one is uniquely upset, with Mike chasing Will to apologize (Mike never apologizes that easily) and Will tearing down Castle Byers in anguish.

Mike and Will is also a unique situation in that they’re both boys. This makes it hard for both of them to even understand their feelings, let alone accept them. Mike is off trying to force a clearly empty relationship (all kissing, no shared interests or conversation) with El. He may well know that he has “inappropriate” feelings for Will, or he may just be unconsciously displacing his feelings onto El. Either way, comparing his “break ups” with both El and Will, we can see which one hurt him more. Meanwhile, Will is stuck in the cliche position of “gay kid in love with his best friend but has to pretend he isn’t.” This is the case whether he knows it or not. The fact that they’re both hiding feelings (from either themselves or each other) is a stark contrast to the trust they normally share. Their scene when Will packs up his D&D set for donation is a bit closer towards being honest, but still guarded. They use D&D as a stand-in for their feelings, with Mike afraid that Will is moving on, but Will reassuring him that it’s “not possible.” Neither one is ready just yet, but they’re letting each other know their feelings are still there.

Time makes relationships. Neither Jopper nor Jancy have really had the opportunity needed to grow compared to Byler. Jopper never really got going, and Jancy seems to have some problems that fans either don’t notice or prefer to ignore. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times, shared traumatic experiences do not magically make for good relationships. It’s not impossible for them to become closer, but it would have to happen as it would with any relationship. Supporting each other is only one part of a relationship, and Jancy and Jopper have some elements of that, though Season 3 shows us that it’s still sorely lacking. Mike and Will already had all of this before the show even started.

It makes me sad and angry sometimes when fans don’t even notice how strong Mike and Will’s feelings are for each other, but instead see new, struggling (and somewhat problematic) relationships as cute and romantic. Jancy and Jopper are both somewhat promising, but flawed, relationships that just haven’t had time, or the correct environment, to grow close. Byler has problems, but those problems are rooted in the fact that they were already very close, but in a situation where their closeness is changing meaning. I suppose it’s a bit of a cheat to have Byler ahead naturally simply because they were already written as close, but it still sets them apart from other couples.

#stranger things #byler

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dear-wormwoods · 5 years

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Do you think other losers understood the nature of Richie’s feelings towards Eddie? Just that scene after they got out of the sewer when they’re calming him down and hugging was so powerful! And so I wonder could teen!losers somehow notice what’s up and interprete it correctly?Could grown-up!losers understand everything? Or they all were too-busy-with-their-own-shit-clowns thinking that Eddie and Richie are just best friends? I would be so excited if you wrote a post with your opinion on this...

I think by the time they got to the quarry, they all knew, without a doubt. Just the way they all rushed to him with no hesitation, you could tell. And I think… I think Bev had it figured out in the sewers, if not after witnessing the “you’re braver than you think” moment, then definitely when Richie wouldn’t accept Eddie’s death. You can see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice that she knew he was feeling it on a totally different level than the rest.

Ben also knew, definitely. I like to think Ben saw it right away, at the restaurant, because he’s very well acquainted with lonely pining and can recognize the symptoms in others. But even if it didn’t happen right away, he absolutely figured it out by the time they had to get out of the sewer, because that man did not let Richie go for one second. He dragged his ass the whole way out because he KNEW. He knew.

I think as kids… some may have figured it out and some may not have. I think, again, that Ben would be the first to suspect Richie’s feelings, because he can recognize those damn lovesick pining symptoms! He never would have brought it up, though. He would’ve waited for Richie to. But Richie never did.

Bev may or may not have noticed, I can’t decide. On the one hand, she’s smart and observant so she would’ve seen the way Eddie and Richie orbit each other like there’s a gravitational pull there, and noticed the wide eyed smiles in between all of the bickering. I think if she did see it, she would’ve been the first to see that the feeling was mutual. But on the other hand, she was super preoccupied with Bill that summer, so I’m not sure she was paying enough attention. 🤔

Bill was the last to figure it out, both as a child and an adult. I don’t think adult Bill realized anything until Richie was sobbing in the quarry, and he probably never figured it out as a kid. Bill’s got that classic Bill Denbrough tunnel vision, and he’s pretty dense when it comes to romance (“was that a line from the play?” Rip).

But in an AU where Reddie actually dated, Bill would at first be shocked, then like “oh yeah I guess that makes sense”, and then reality would hit and he’d quickly descend into Protective Dad Mode: “R-Richie I swear if you eh-ever hurt him I’ll get my slingshot and…” “Have you met him?! He’s more likely to hurt ME!” “I’ll sh-sh-shoot you in the d-dick, Richie.” “Okay, okay! Jay-sus fuck.”

Mike maybe would’ve figured it out because he’s observant. One day he’s with Stan, just hanging out reading, and he says, “hey do you think there’s something going on between Richie and Eddie?” Stan, without looking up, “what do you mean?” Mike: “just, you know, they like each other, but maybe they like-like each other…” Stan, still without looking up, sighs and says, “God I hope not. Can you imagine how much more annoying they’d be together like that? But they do deserve each other, that’s for sure.”

The thing about Richie and Eddie is that neither of them are exactly subtle, but they’re both too dense and down on themselves to realize their feelings are very much requited. But it’s obvious enough to anyone else if they’re just a little observant.

#asks #it 2019 #this turned quickly from sad times to headcanons #stephen king's it #reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #stanley uris #losers club #it hcs

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meggtheegg · 5 years

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Wow, I did not expect you to answer my question about the Evan actor interpretations so fast! Thank you so much! You said that you could do an analysis on the actor's interpretation on Evan as a character, so I was wondering if you would be willing to do that? I'm going to New York in a few weeks (planning on seeing MLB in DEH) and I am really excited to see DEH for the first time ever!

You’re so welcome! And that’s super exciting! Seeing DEH in person is so powerful, in a way that bootlegs just can’t capture. You��re gonna love it!

And, as requested, here’s some character interpretations :D

Michael Lee Brown - As I said before, MLB’s Evan is definitely on the autism spectrum. But, he doesn’t know it. His official diagnosis seems to be anxiety, and that’s what he’s running with. But the social anxiety is a direct response to people’s actual reactions to him, not a fear of what might happen. He doesn’t really understand social norms, and the way he talks and acts seems different to others. He’s had negative experiences with people, many times before. When Zoe calls him weird and he says “I know,” it feels like an exchange that has happened a lot. Especially with a friend like Jared, who breaks apart everything he says and does, he is extremely aware of the fact that, try as he might, he doesn’t always know how to act. And all the therapy and anxiety medication isn’t helping him much, either, because neither of them are addressing the actual cause of his struggles. Because of that, he feels broken. He avoids talking to people out of fear that he’ll get it wrong, and he has this desperate need to keep everyone around him happy all the time. His worst fear is people being mad at him, and that’s a big thing that pushes him through his every decision. It’s what makes him keep the lie going, it’s what makes him send Alana the note, and noticeably, it’s what gets him to admit the reason he broke his arm. With other Evans, Mike and Alex were gentler in that scene, coaxing the truth out of him, but when it’s MLB, they both yell at him. He doesn’t like big shows of emotion, in general. Seeing Cynthia cry is almost as painful for him as being yelled at. I think his Evan is in the unfortunate situation where he’s extremely empathetic, but struggles to process and deal with emotions. As for his relationships, he sees through some of Jared’s bullshit but does believe that he doesn’t actually want to be friends. He loves his mom, but doesn’t entirely trust her. He thinks she wants to “fix” him, and resents that enough to push her away. His crush on Zoe borders on a special interest. He knows every little detail about her, and I think it’s a compulsion at this point to learn more and more. Cynthia and Larry definitely become his surrogate parents, to the point that he forgets about Connor every so often, but whenever he’s reminded of him, he looks devastated for them. Especially for Larry. Also, I don’t remember if the others do this, but he has a bit of a freudian slip during “To Break In A Glove.” Instead of immediately saying “Connor was really lucky to have a dad who cares so much about taking care of stuff,” he just says “Connor was really lucky to have a dad.” He quickly catches himself and adds the rest, but he makes that a noticeable moment.

Colton Ryan - The first word that comes to mind with Colton’s Evan is fear. He’s a very frightened kid. Where you feel like MLB’s Evan has had a lot of negative social experience, Colton’s Evan seems to just overthink everything. His mind jumps to the worst possible outcome of every situation, and he constantly does damage control for something that may never need it. He and his mom have a better relationship in the beginning, and it only falls apart once he becomes close with the Murphys. It’s like he doesn’t notice the flaws in their relationship until he experiences a different one. The things he says when they’re fighting come across as true, but they seem to have popped into his mind in the moment, rather than being something he’s wanted to say for a long time. The biggest thing he needs is a supportive figure in his life, and that’s what the Murphys provide. He needs reassurance that he’s doing a good job. He’s a really smart, nice kid with extreme self-esteem issues. Once he gains confidence, he thrives. His crush on Zoe feels more like a typical high school crush than an obsession, and their relationship is actually pretty sweet. (Colton is the only Evan who had believable chemistry with Laura Dreyfuss, in my opinion.) In the scene before Only Us, you really feel like you’re just watching two teenagers talking to each other. But, the loss of that relationship doesn’t feel so important because most high school relationships end, and that’s exactly what they feel like. A high school relationship. Fun, but ultimately temporary. He and Jared work off of each other really well, and you feel like they’ll actually make up after the end of the show. From the start, Evan’s very aware of his bullshit, and he’s just as sarcastic back to him. Even though Jared is probably one of the biggest things tearing his confidence down, he’s also one of the only people he’s comfortable with, in the beginning. They’re both relaxed around each other, and it’s the thrill of the Connor Project that pulls him away, not a genuine belief that Jared doesn’t care if they’re friends or not.

Taylor Trensch - Where Colton is frightened and MLB is awkward, Taylor is bubbly. He is the smiliest Evan, always cheerful and thinking of the positives. You sometimes get a glimpse into the idea that it’s an act, but a lot of the time, it seems genuine. He doesn’t seem to realize that Jared’s comments are mean-spirited, or that Connor signed his name in awkwardly large letters, and he seems genuinely grateful for both. Zoe seems to intimidate him way more than Connor does (and maybe that’s what he likes about her.) Taylor’s Evan is a double-sided coin. He’s the most outwardly friendly of the Evans I’ve seen, but also the most selfish. He almost seems to be manipulating the situation with the Murphys from the beginning. The fact that Taylor plays down the anxiety so much makes his actions feel more like calculated plans than split-second decisions. Once For Forever has happened, he is all in on making the lie as convincing as possible. He seems blissfully unaware of a lot of things, dismissing Jared in Act 2 with the same big smile and cheerful tone he always has. He’s shocked whenever anyone’s mad at him, like it never crossed his mind that he wasn’t being nice. He’s also the most in denial of how he broke his arm. He’s sobbing by the end of that scene, and still doesn’t seem to have accepted it. When he tries to tell Heidi about it later, he breaks down sobbing again. This Evan is more immature than the others, and either knows exactly what he’s doing or has greatly misinterpreted what he’s doing. He’s a master at convincing himself of things that aren’t true, and it makes sense that he does the same to other people.

Roman Banks - Roman is a very shy Evan. Much like Colton, he tries to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. He’s a genuinely sweet kid, but he really doesn’t know where he fits in. And, I think his father leaving has had the biggest impact on Roman’s Evan. If I really wanted to overanalyze things, the fact that Heidi is white and Evan isn’t adds another emotional level to that plotline. He’s missing an important figure in his life and is constantly trying to fill that void. He’s also very much a kid. He hasn’t been exposed to a lot of the world’s problems, and when he’s thrown into the spotlight, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with it. He has a desperate need to keep people from worrying about him, so he puts on a very thin mask that a lot of people don’t see through. His mom, especially, takes everything he says and does at face value, when he wishes she would look harder. With the Murphys, he feels like it’s a little safer to not be completely okay all the time, because they aren’t either. They’re grieving their child, and they are able to provide each other mutual comfort. He helps to fill the void, and they let him be a little more vulnerable. He and Zoe together are just cute. They’re kids who are smitten with each other and have no idea what to do with those feelings, and it’s kind of adorable. Roman and Mallory work together really well, and seem like genuine friends irl. He doesn’t put her on as much of a pedestal as the other Evans sometimes do. He just really, really likes her. He’s a little more awkward around Larry, because he’s not really sure what to do with a father figure. But, when he takes a moment to open up to him, there’s finally a moment of real bonding, and from that point, Larry is constantly gently reassuring him. When the truth comes out, where it usually hits hardest that things with Cynthia or Zoe have been broken, Roman’s Evan losing his bond with Larry is what stands out the most. There’s a sort of relief during the scene before So Big/So Small, because finally, for the first time, he’s vulnerable with Heidi, and she accepts him. You can see the weight that’s lifted from his shoulders, and his improvement by the orchard scene feels like it was largely because of that freedom to be open with his mom.

#Anonymous #long post

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bookoftheironfist · 6 years

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Iron Fist Week: Day 4

A Favorite Non-Romantic Relationship: Danny and Luke

Of course, I’ve talked about them a lot on both this and my other blog, but I don’t think I’ve written a post specifically focused on Danny and Luke’s Netflix-verse relationship-- which is a relationship that means a lot to me and is, of course, extremely significant in the comics. I also wanted to be sure to highlight Luke because his show was cancelled too. The loss of both Luke Cage and Iron Fist is heartbreaking, but in some ways, it almost feels right that they would go out together. Ideally, Netflix will now take the same action that Marvel editorial did in the 70s, and rescue the two franchises by combining them into one series. But no matter what happens, I will forever cherish the fact that we got to see this dynamic duo on-screen at all.

There is a long and noble tradition of superhero relationships being forged in conflict. In the comics, Luke and Danny’s first interaction is a knock-down, drag-out, building-wrecking brawl that cements a mutual respect and understanding between them. The Neflix shows’ budget restraints prevented an exact replication of this, but MCU Luke and Danny still meet in the midst of emotional turmoil and misunderstanding. Danny is suffering from all-encompassing trauma and self-loathing following the apparent destruction of K’un-Lun. Luke has just been released from prison, and is processing the pain of being unable to help Candace Miller’s rapidly dwindling family. And both bring out the other’s worst fears. When they meet in back of the Chaste hideout, filled with bodies of the recently-dead, Danny likely assumes Luke is the Hand warrior who did the deed. The difficulty Danny has in subduing him is merely a reminder of his weakness, his perceived failure as the Iron Fist. Luke sees Danny as a privileged aggressor attacking a boy he’s trying to protect-- a symbol of an unjust system that ruined his life and is now threatening his neighborhood.

Both are on edge and in pain, and are unable, initially, to understand each other through that pain. Even after Claire vouches for them and brings them together, Luke in particular is unable to see Danny’s side of the equation. Danny and Luke’s differences have always been a key part of their relationship, and as painful as their initial disagreements are in this universe, they work to cement their surface-level differences in order to lend further power to the similarities they discover later.

But of course, first they need a bonding team-up! This fight is awesome. They’re not friends yet, but neither can deny that they work well together, and they even manage some banter. Having each other’s backs in this way prompts them to trust each other, even if they don’t necessarily like each other yet. And trust is a big deal, especially for Danny, who was betrayed by nearly everyone he met in Iron Fist Season 1. That experience has made him more wary of forging personal connections, but he is still desperately in need of companionship. Thus, he latches onto his new superhero friends-- and Luke in particular.

And then they get another chance to talk. While Luke is still wary, Danny is eager to get to know him better, and the little reflexive grins they throw at each other throughout this conversation are very funny. In the midst of all of the chaos, they start to at least grow comfortable in their disagreements with each other, clearly enjoying themselves in spite of everything. Luke, the more cynical of the pair, insists that their connection will end when the mission does. But there are nice little indications throughout this conversation that this is a beginning rather than an ending.

They continue to grow closer through little hints and gestures. There’s a great moment later in this scene when Alexandra tells Danny to submit to her or she will kill the others. Danny hesitates, not wanting to put his new friends’ lives in jeopardy... and then Luke gives him a little supportive nod, communicating to him that he should reject her anyway. And the writers make a point of having Luke and Danny show noted concern for each other throughout the rest of the show.

And then it all goes to pieces when Luke agrees to tie Danny up. This is a horrible, frankly traumatic experience for Danny, since it digs into all of his recent pain. He is being prevented from doing his job as the Iron Fist, risking failing New York the way he feels he failed K’un-Lun. He is being prevented from having his revenge on the Hand, which is the only way he will be able to achieve closure for what happened to his home. And he has been betrayed, yet again, by people he was foolish enough to trust-- Luke in particular, with whom he thought he was actually becoming friends. He’s alone again, helpless, furious. But Luke makes a small gesture of friendship in this scene that, I feel, is one of the most important moments in their developing relationship.

Luke listens to Danny. He doesn’t at first, and he is unfairly mean to Danny throughout this show-- but it’s not just him. The degree to which everyone is skeptical of Danny’s story makes sense, but after a while it shifts from being funny to cruel. Danny has just lost his home, and to have that home scoffed at endlessly by his supposed allies is painful to watch. It is evident how this affects Danny-- in Iron Fist Season 2 he even starts pre-empting it. There’s a moment when he’s discussing Shou-Lao with Ward, and he immediately follows it up with an offhand “I know, dragons, right?” because he’s so used to being laughed at. He desperately needs to talk about K’un-Lun in The Defenders as a way of processing his grief, and instead he’s met with scorn. And Luke too, in this scene, initially makes fun of him. But-- and this is important-- he then sees that Danny has been hurt, and he changes his behavior. He reaches out. He allows Danny to talk, and sincerely engages in conversation with him. It’s a small gesture, but in the context of the show, hugely significant.

With a shaky foundation having been laid in The Defenders, we then jump ahead to the magical tenth episode of Luke Cage Season 2. This time, Danny is here to help Luke, offering him life advice that has been directly informed by his own journey.

(Iron Fist Season 1, anyone?)

This episode is a pure joy, partly because it does not pick up where The Defenders left off. As much fun as it would have been to see every second of this developing relationship, it’s even more fun to skip over all of the hurdles and dive right into the Power Man and Iron Fist dynamic we all know and love. These guys have been hanging out off-screen, and it shows. They are fully comfortable with each other, hugging and fist-bumping and bantering without any indication of early-relationship awkwardness. They have a special handshake. They comment on each other’s mannerisms. They have pre-rehearsed fight moves.

Finally, they have found mutual strength in their own differing life experiences, their distinctions enhancing their bond and allowing them to help and learn from each other. And of course, they kick epic amounts of butt together. Both are opposed to making money off their superheroing in this universe, so Heroes for Hire feels out of the question, but some kind of permanent team-up seems all but inevitable in this episode.

I’m in grief over the possibility that we may never see them together in this way again, or that it will be a small cameo in another show and nothing more. There are so many cool Power Man and Iron Fist stories waiting to be brought to live action (yes, including Danny taking Luke to K’un-Lun). But again-- I’m tremendously grateful for what we have. A huge thank you to Finn and Mike for being the perfect Danny and Luke and making my geeky dreams come true.

#ironfistweek #MCU #Netflix Defenders #Netflix Luke Cage #Iron Fist #Danny Rand #Luke Cage #*Sob*

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fountainpenguin · 6 years

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Question Meme: (Ignore this if you don't want to answer all these....) 1, 2, 3, 28, 31, 33, 40 (sorry i couldn't pick one)

40 Questions For ‘Fic Writers Meme

#1 - Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Gradual character development spread across a piece with deepened, believable worldbuilding. You know, I often say I’m not into romance, but here’s the thing: A nice long, serious slow burn does a person good. I’ll happily accept romance if an author can really get me into the minds of the characters and make me want their relationship to develop as much as the characters do.

It’s shallow romance that rubs me the wrong way. Give me two characters who honestly, truly care about each other to the point where they’ll sacrifice something they love, or even be willing to let each other ago if it means the one they love will be happy. I love that. But if you’ve got one character who will pitch a fit rather than let their love be happy with someone else, you’re really working uphill with me.

Worldbuilding doesn’t have to be as deep and complex as my ‘fics tend to get, but I do love to see how different authors expand the same world in different ways. I’m not a big fan of horror and for some reason I just can’t get into sci-fi. I enjoy fantasy and biology.

Really, I love anything that doesn’t contradict canon. AUs? Eh, sometimes, but they’re not my favorite. I like behind-the-scenes, between-the-lines, believable futures, and backstory pieces with some nice worldbuilding. And some complex characters who don’t always make the best choices and then have to suffer the consequences for their actions. Yes. ‘Fics like those are very nice.

#2 - Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

A queerplatonic relationship that’s happy, healthy, and long-lasting. You would think I would let my aro/ace children be happy, but alas, ‘tis not to be! You could say I like to squash zucchinis. I am self-projecting my own insecurities. I made Bennett a horrible person to show the “worst possible relationship with an aro/ace who wants a sexless marriage” so that the hopes and dreams of the other aro/ace characters look more reasonable by comparison. I do that a lot.

Okay, I lied. I can think of six “official” queerplatonic relationships we will see in my FOP works, and one of them actually does have a happy ending. I mean, probably. I haven’t written it yet, so who knows?

Spoiler alert: Mario and Peach are the OTQP and I’m going to milk it. What can I say? I call ‘em like I see ‘em and canon literally gave us a plumber who’ll collect 120 Power Stars in return for cake, and a princess who turned down his hand in marriage after all the times he’s rescued her, but adores him anyway.

#3 - Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole?

“We pretend to hate each other but secretly we’re both in love and will one day in the heat of the moment spontaneously confess our romantic feelings and form a mutual, caring relationship without any further character development.”

I don’t know if it’s because I’m a very serious, honest, straightforward person (being INTJ and all), or if it’s because I’m asexual, or if it’s a combination of both (or neither), but I can’t stand huge plots about people refusing to admit that they like someone. Love has always been a logical thing to me. I was sixteen before I found out sexual attraction was a real thing. I don’t really understand it, but I guess it’s possible to have physical feelings for someone even if you don’t logically want to? And you can’t stop yourself or turn it off? I honestly don’t know how that works, which is why the “I wish I wasn’t physically attracted to you” trope has infuriated me since childhood. I just didn’t get it.

Even before I realized I was asexual, I would have discussions with my mom about how if I ever had a crush, I would openly admit this to my friends if they asked. I wouldn’t protest or deny, as I see so many media characters do. Then it turned out I’m incapable of feeling physical attraction and I get friendship squishes instead of romantic crushes, so that happened.

As a general rule of thumb, you should trust the characters I write if they say they aren’t attracted to someone. If they like someone, they’ll tell you so. If they don’t, they’ll tell you that too. And if they’re confused, then it will be very clear that they’re confused. No means no. I’m very strict about that. Don’t read into it looking for signs that they’re being secretive even to the reader. They are not. I emotionally cannot bring myself to do that.

#28 - Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Oooh. I’m going to say that Shaddic takes the cake on this one. If you’re a Total Drama fan, or even if you’re not, then “Daddy’s Characters” will break you deliciously like very few fanfics will. “Before and After” is just a step behind it. The emotion captured by these ‘fics is incredible, and I highly, highly recommend them if you’re into evil villains who are undeniably and yet realistically cruel. Both ‘fics revolve around Mike and his multiple personalities (“Daddy’s Characters” revolving around adult Mike and Zoey, married with a daughter and with twins on the way, coping with something horrid that lands a distraught Mike in prison, and “Before and After” being the trauma-filled childhood backstory ‘fic).

Shaddic characterized everyone perfectly. So horribly, painfully well. Ugggh, I love it. My gallery has Identity Theft on the way, which will revolve around Foop and Hiccup and some multiple personality trauma, but it won’t be as beautiful as Shaddic’s work. They’re honestly worth a read if you ever have the time one day, even if you aren’t a Total Drama fan. You really don’t need to know the show to enjoy them. And enjoy them (and suffer) you will. In all my years, I’ve never seen an evil villain portrayed so… villainously. Love it.

I’m also a fan of SelanPike- partially for sentimental reasons, I suppose. I remember reading her Mario ‘fics over and over eight years ago, and I still read them today on a regular basis. Crazy how time flies. They’re just ones that I love going back to. As most of you know, I tend to fall in love with background characters. Fawful, Kamek, and Doopliss fit those qualifications- and coincidentally, those three are Selan’s favorites too! Technically, it’s because of her that the 130 Prompts project came to be. I always loved her 100 one-shot challenge, and that’s sort of how I eventually decided to write my own.

I really admire Selan for her characterizations. Her Kamek portrayal is my all-time favorite. So is her Fawful, her Doopliss, her Bowser, her Bowser Jr, her E. Gadd… she’s just a master of character. Even her freaking Jojora is spot-on. I mean, talk about background characters, am I right? Ha. Her writing is excellent and she has some fun plots. I always enjoyed drinking up her fanart and reading her comics on her deviantArt too. Still do. She has such a fun, bouncy art style. Her 8-page comic about Fawful attending school in the Mushroom Kingdom after Kamek hits him with the truant officer threat gets me every time.

I highly recommend “Until Tomorrow” (Her post-“Superstar Saga” ‘fic about Kamek and Fawful attempting to revive Cackletta so Kamek can kick her butt in a magic fight and Fawful can get the mother figure he refuses to call his mother figure back), and her famous ‘fic “On My Own” (about Fawful coping with Cackletta’s death and eventually working his way up the Koopa Kingdom social ladder). “Fragmented Spectrum” is a wonderful, tense, horror-ish ‘fic as well, with my absolute favorite Bowser Jr. portrayal. Plus, I love the rivalry between Kamek and Fawful seen in “F.S.” with Fawful trying to draw magic circles that he decided must be 100% perfect to count as circles, and Kamek not even knowing how to deal with him and his technology brain. Beautiful.

Check out the rest of her gallery too. Her two FFN fandoms are Mario and Invader Zim. She isn’t active there anymore, but her ‘fics are worth the read. I will say that I’m not a fan of her ‘fic “Everything You Ever” because I feel that Cackletta was way too sweet and nice for an evil villain in that one. But then again, I haven’t read it in years, so who knows. I’m not crazy about Selan’s Peach portrayal either, but that’s where my third recommendation comes in.

GuardianM1234 is a recent discovery of mine, and she does not disappoint. I’m a big fan of her ongoing ‘fic “Smoke” (which updates twice a month right now and is nearing its climax). It’s basically the story of Peach and Bowser growing up, and the development of their relationship from being fairly friendly as children to their complex relationship as adults. I’ve never seen Peach portrayed so perfectly, and I adore her. Never thought I would, but I do. Guardian also has a very unique take on Mario that’ll really make you squirm.

I love Guardian’s writing because she pits characters in emotionally-difficult situations and lets them learn and grow. They make bad choices, but she demonizes no one. Not even Bowser. Plus, Bowser has a little sideplot with Clawdia going on (the canon mother of the Koopalings if you know your deep hidden lore, though since the Koopalings were recently ruled “not Bowser’s children” by Nintendo’s “official” canon, I don’t know if she will be their mother in “Smoke” or where Guardian is taking this ‘fic). Basically, what I’m saying is, Clawdia and Bowser roastfest. Be there. They crack me up. And Guardian’s TOADSWORTH is perfection. Please give that old boy his gossip.

Plus, Daisy takes Bowser shopping for wedding dresses once and he bribes her with a six-pack of soda. Nice, short chapters with a few pleasant hints of worldbuilding slipped in, and a LOT of character. Guardian is still somewhat new to fanfiction, but she’s very sweet and she would adore some reviews if you do read her work. If you love her stuff, give her a shout-out! She’s great.

#31 - Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I fall halfway between this one. The answer is, sort of both! For my main fandoms, I have one rule: I don’t contradict canon, unless canon contradicted itself and I was forced to pick a side. Origin gets so deep into biology and Knots into culture that they feel more like original works than fanfics sometimes, because I’ll flesh things out as much as I want to. So that’s sort of a liberty I take with canon. But I never contradict canon if I don’t have to. I always comply.

It’s a puzzle. I love connecting dots behind the scenes. I love forcing everything that’s canon to be canon, even if it looks like it contradicted itself. If I can solve a plot hole, I try to. I will make ridiculous backbends to fit colorful Anti-Fairy eyes, Crocker’s ebb and flow of wealth, Miss Idaho’s “rare genetic condition that prevents her from aging,” Mary Alice Doombringer’s random abilities, and Girlfriend the cat’s sentience into Riddleverse canon, and I’ll love every second of it. I only cut a piece of canon out if I feel like I absolutely have to. It’s fun.

I can definitely enjoy reading ‘fics that stray from canon, and might even write them on occasion. But the reason why I write fanfics is because I loved the canon and I want to see it expanded, not taken away. I’d like to publish my original works someday, so if I’m not sticking close to source material, why would I write a fanfic that I could publish as an original work instead?

For the same reasons, I’d rather read a fanfic that expands on canon than eliminates it. When I fall in love with something, I fall in love with its world. I like ‘fics that blend worldbuilding aspects in with the plot they’re writing, even if it’s a short one-shot. I don’t love reading something that feels like its writer just inserted the names of popular characters into their otherwise original work so that people would read it. I want to have the little details and feel convinced that these are the characters (and the world) that I love. Personal preference.

In some cases, I default to realism over canon, such as by giving Cosmo the ability to recognize faces. In my psychology classes, I’ve learned that sometimes during investigations, police will show pictures to people and ask them to select the face that matches the one they were shown earlier. People pretending to be mentally handicapped in some way will often get the answers wrong on purpose in an attempt to maintain their facade, while those who are actually mentally handicapped will get them right. Just a nitpicky thing I do.

So I often favor realism over canon in certain ways, even if it possibly contradicts canon a bit. I respect canon and try to stay true to it as much as possible because I enjoy doing so, but I don’t consider myself 100% beholden to it, especially considering how many different contributors there can be to a project over the years. I do my best, but enjoying what I write comes first.

#33 - How do you feel about crack?

I can enjoy the occasional way-out-there thing, but I prefer serious stories in general.

#40 - Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

Well, you didn’t give me a ‘fic you wanted to see an alternate ending to, but I do have a few short pieces I can share. You see, the “That Was Then” Prompt (the Jay Rhoswen and his studies about Anti-Fairies one) wasn’t supposed to end the way it did. Here is how it was meant to go:

Rhoswen scooted back hand over hand along the counter, his feet skittering in the vapor. What in the name of dust was he doing? He shouldn’t be looking at his wife’s counterpart more than at his wife! He shouldn’t be having these sorts of thoughts at all!

Anti-Shylinda placed her palms to his cheeks and gazed into his eyes. “No talk,” she whispered, and when she leaned forward, those burning lips closed over his.

As for whether that Seelie Courter chose to kiss the anti-fairy back once she’d started to draw away? Well… You ought to look to the term “Rhoswen syndrome” to answer that.

I didn’t like the idea of Anti-Shylinda being the one to make moves on Jay, so I scrapped it. Not only that, but the whole piece is written as snippets from Rhoswen’s journal now, so the voice here no longer fit the narrative.

At the end of the first chapter of Frayed Knots, “String Theory”, Anti-Cosmo cuts off the tips of his ears. I was originally going to expand the scene as follows:

Blood spattered the floor. With a hiss through my teeth, I withdrew the knife and dabbed the blood up with my sleeve. The stone might stain.

Recalculating, I dragged my stool over to the sink. The angle was awkward, but at least my blood would wash easily away. There, I slit off the tip of my ear, cutting carefully around my first canetis ring. Then I mirrored the action on the other side. Both rings bounced across the stone with a clink, click, clatter.

I uncurled my tongue and set the knife aside. Then I took the severed tips of my ears and held them to my head again. It took three agonizing minutes, but the smoke that filled my veins stretched out and wound around my fingers. It absorbed my ears and pressed them into place again. Full, soft, and whole. I fingered the gashes mother’s piercing clamp had left behind. Apparently, even regeneration couldn’t heal injuries left by an unenchanted tool. Useful information to know.

The canetis rings disappeared into my pocket. Then I got up and pushed open the window. I took a running start, dove out, and unfurled my wings.

However, I kind of liked leaving the chapter on the cliffhanger of “Oh my gosh, what did he just do to himself???” I also couldn’t include a sink in the castle in a time period when there is no indoor plumbing. Then I decided that I would rather give Anti-Cosmo permanent gashes in his ears he had caused himself, rather than ones caused by his mother, to always remind him (and everyone around him) of that day he stood against Anti-Fairy tradition. Kind of a shame to delete the scene since I like how it gave us information about smoke and Anti-Fairy healing right from the start. I might recycle it later.

Actually, if we’re talking about the original version of Knots, everything was supposed to be different than what it was. Here is another deleted scene that was originally planned to be the opening scene of Knots:

“Mum, I’m nine and a half minutes old. I’m not a baby anymore. Come on, please? You let Anti-Robin leave home to get his wand when he was only three!”

“You weren’t even born yet. How can you possibly know that?”

“He told me about thirty seconds ago, right before you came in here.” I grabbed my mother’s skirt in two tiny fists. “Mum, I’m going to be the only pup in the colony without a wand. What about our image?”

She wavered visibly, running her thumb along her staff. “Well…”

Father peered over his spectacles and frowned. “Now, wait just a minute here, Anti-Florensa. He’s just a pup. You can’t send him into the woods to gather the materials for his first wand all by himself.”

“But it has always been our family’s tradition,” she sniffed. “It’s not as though he’ll die. On the contrary, I’m more concerned about him killing valuable plants with his acid. Anti-Cosmo, you’re drooling again.”

I wiped my mouth. “Sorry, Mum.”

I really loved the “I’m nine and a half minutes old- I’m not a baby anymore!” idea, especially since there aren’t many times when you’ll have the chance to use it. As you can see, Frayed Knots was going to begin with baby Anti-Cosmo leaving his manor home alone to obtain his first wand.

But overall, in the end, I decided that it was more important to show the importance of smoke in Anti-Fairy culture, and we ended up with the scene we have now. Also, I really wanted Anti-Cosmo to grow up never knowing who his father was until several years after Anti-Robin had died, which meant I had to scrap or replace this scene in some way anyway.

The “Mama’s Boy” Prompt was actually written with the manor idea in mind, and I believe Anti-Florensa even uses the word “manor” in it. I added an author’s note to that piece several months ago mentioning that “Mama’s Boy” is semi-canon for now until Frayed Knots is finalized. A lot has changed.

Some other deleted scenes from the early plans of “Anti-Cosmo lives with his family in a manor near the Castle, and they are nobles but not royalty” include:

“I got something for you, kiddo.” Anti-Robin flicked an aluminum medal across the table that read #2 Son. I grinned.

“This is for me? Thanks! I love it!”

He tilted down his glasses. “You say, ‘Thank you, Father, for this generous gift.’”

I repeated the words, and he tousled my hair. “Now, go do second son things.”

“Yes, sir! I will! Thank you, Father!” With the medal swinging from my neck, I trotted happily off.

and

I clung to the frame of his office door, beating my wings to keep myself from staggering forward. I knew better than to cross the threshold, even though there was nothing I wanted more in the universe right then than to throw my arms around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. The bruise Mother had left on my arm hurt even more now than it did in the kitchen, somehow. My eyes slid back and forth across his desk.

“Where are you going?”

Anti-Robin calmly placed another folded shirt inside the suitcase. “Back to Anti-Scarlett’s.”

“With your other family?” I asked. “With her kids, Anti-Xavier and Anti-Tom?”

“Yes.”

“Why can’t I come with you? I want to meet them.”

“It’s a dad thing.” He closed the suitcase with two clicks and turned around. His eyes were steely calm, his frown very firm. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

and

“ELEANOR!”

Anti-Robin and I grabbed our mouths and looked at each other, gaping with our eyes. Mother was over 150,000 years old. Her real name wasn’t supposed to be said out loud.

Father slammed a newspaper on the table, then stepped back and crossed his arms. “Might I inquire what the meaning of this is, ‘dear’?”

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, not looking up from the end of her staff. She studied its base, then ran her polish rag across it again.

“Anti-Bryndin had the green fairy locked up, and I know you’re behind it.”

So, don’t feel too sad that Anti-Cosmo grows up without a dad in my works! It wouldn’t have been the best relationship anyway. Besides that, now that I’ve had time to think about it, this Anti-Robin portrayal isn’t that far off Ambrosine, and I’d rather H.P. and Anti-Cosmo had fathers with very different personalities.

If you have a really sharp memory, you may possibly remember seeing that medal around Anti-Cosmo’s neck when I drew my late-night FOP/Moana doodle dump that one time.

I also have oodles of scenes deleted from Anti-Cosmo’s visit to Winkleglint’s estate, since originally Scarletfeather was supposed to show up and Anti-Cosmo panicked when he couldn’t stop Scarletfeather from luring Mr. Thimble away. I could have filled another entire chapter with what happened during that study abroad week, but in the end I decided they were mostly self-indulgent and not important enough in the grand scheme of things to justify leaving in.

I’m skimming through my files of deleted scenes and I forgot I had this one too. Anti-Cosmo wasn’t supposed to have his intelligence test proctored by Ambrosine originally, as I was going to send him to this mental hospital facility. I decided against it, but here is a terrifying scene that we almost got. So, it’s technically an alternative ending too:

Dr. Gabriel handed me a piece of bark marked with the word Failed. “Don’t get cocky. Everyone has their limits.”

Failed? That lout outright failed me? I dropped the bark strip and looked up as Dr. Gabriel spread his wings. With a few sharp beats, he flew out of the pit. I chased after him, searching the platform above me with my eyes. So I couldn’t fly, and I was short, but I could make that leap-

“Oof!”

Or… perhaps not. I slid back down to the floor and landed on my rump. Never one to be deterred, I leaped back to my feet. Something to boost me, something to boost me… Oh! Snatching up his forgotten broom, I backed against the opposite wall, and then ran forward. I shoved the handle of the broom into the corner offered by the platform and the floor and launched myself into the air. Yes! Yes! Ahahaha! I hurtled out of the pit and went rolling across the ground. Dr. Gabriel spun around, his mouth falling open in surprise.

“Please,” I begged him, climbing to my feet again. My broken wings batted feebly behind me. “I want to gain a Fairy education. Level with me, doctor. You don’t want Anti-Fairies filling up your precious conservative school. And I don’t want Anti-Fairies filling it up either. True, we Anti-Fairies are known for our memories, but I like to feel special, and I shouldn’t want to chance anyone stealing my thunder away from me. You let me in, and I won’t breathe a word about your biases against my people.”

Dr. Gabriel studied me with idle coldness, clutching his tablets to his chest. He drifted a few steps backwards along the corridor. “Anti-Cosmo, your genius is entirely creative. You’re severely behind in your knowledge of technical skills, and you lack basic common sense as well as a sense of self-preservation. Because of this, we can’t recommend you be placed in any advanced programs. You’ll need to stay where you’re at.”

The corners of my mouth twisted into a frown. Then a sneer. “Frankly, Dr. Gabriel, I’m not particularly fond of that option.”

With that, I yanked out the can of forget-a-cin I’d nicked from his pouch when he’d been turned the other way. Dr. Gabriel had time to look horrified before I mashed the button down. My eyes were squeezed shut, but even so, the world around me lit with white. I let the empty canister fall to the floor and opened my eyes again to find the nervous fairy glancing around in bewilderment.

“There,” I said. “I’ve just put a block over this memory of yours. I do hope no one else would care to challenge me, or I will be forced to perform the same trick on them. Now, I demand that you, good sir, will have me enrolled in all the classes of my choosing. Is that understood?”

Dr. Gabriel’s wandering eyes finally latched onto me. His shoulders shivered, although he possibly didn’t remember why. He bobbed a bit lower in the air. Then his wings fell silent altogether, and he leaned his back against the wall. He slid down to the floor. “S-security! Security?”

His voice was too weak for anyone who wasn’t an Anti-Fairy to hear. I sighed. Covering my eyes again, I made a signal with my other hand. “Oh, dear. I do apologize. I really never do this, you must understand. It’s so messy.”

If he hadn’t been so hazy from the aftereffects of the forget-a-cin, I’m sure Dr. Gabriel wouldn’t have let me get away with as much as he did. As it happened, I walked right up to him and lay my claw against the karmic pouch on the left side of his neck. He yelped, but I knocked his clumsy hands away from me without any real effort. I braced my hand against my hip.

“I really never do this. It’s vile and crude. So sorry, I really am. But then again, well, perhaps I’m really not.” And with that, I sunk my fangs into his neck. Blech. He tasted of old mutton.

Dr. Gabriel screamed. He twisted, his shoulders rapidly seizing up. I rolled my eyes and kept my fangs embedded until his coughs turned to silence and he had frozen in place, as still as a stone statue. Only then did I wrench back my head, bringing the coils of his karmic weave along with me. Most of them were blue, but here and there a pink one surfaced, or a yellow. As the colourful threads of his life whisked above us, I stood back and traced one claw beneath my eye.

“Anti-Fairy tears consist mainly of sulfuric acid, of course. And I daresay you hurt my feelings quite a bit back there, didn’t you?”

Forcing myself to cry came as naturally as forcing myself not to cry always had. I captured the burning tear on the end of my claw and, very slowly, held it out towards the paralyzed fairy sitting against the wall. For several long seconds, I let him see it glistening there. Threatening to drip down on the place where I had bitten him. Which was still bleeding.

“I never do this,” I said again, truthfully apologetic. “It’s messy and you’ll be rather cross when you wake up, assuming you wake again at all. But it is true that I am crying, and here you are, lying so very still. We’re standing rather close, aren’t we? So close that I could touch you.”

Lacking the ability to move, all Dr. Gabriel could do was sit numbly, his mouth gaping. I lowered my claw towards his neck.

“But it’s only a single tear, isn’t it? Why should a fairy care if he made an anti-fairy child cry? No, a single tear cannot hurt your conscience. A single tear may sting your skin, perhaps, but it shouldn’t cause any long-lasting problem so long as no liquid in your body is particularly warm. Oh, wait…” Here I feigned surprise, and brought my claw a mere centimetre from his karmic pouch. Green liquid trickled down his neck. I smiled. “Why, internal Fairy body temperature borders on the boiling point, does it not? Oooh, I’d hate to see what happens when that acid comes into contact with your blood. I’ve heard it’s prone to such catastrophic explosions.”

There was, of course, no reply. Sighing, I withdrew my handkerchief from my pocket and wiped the tear from my claw.

“No, but I suppose I’m a gentleman, so I shan’t leave you comfortless. As I told you, I really never do this. I’m all boasts and bluster, really. That’s all I really am. Let’s get you cleaned up, lad.”

I was just wiping away the last drops of acid from his stunned face when the door opened behind me. I looked over my shoulder to find Anti-Jolene floating there with a clipboard in hand. She took in the threads of wild karma and my kerchief, and looked at me with her ears cocked forward.

“So… How is it going?”

I sighed and tucked the handkerchief away. “Dr. Gabriel and I have just finished, painfully. I say, are business deals with Fairies always so messy?”

She smiled a thin smile. “It would behoove us to find a neutral party who could settle things between our two races more easily, wouldn’t it?”

“I’ll be cleaning karma out of my fur for weeks,” I muttered, and went about gathering up his tangled threads so I could stuff them back inside his soul.

He was one messed up kid in this draft, that is for sure. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll find a place for this scene in the current version someday, if I ever need to send an older Anti-Cosmo to a mental health facility. For now, however, it’s deleted.

“This Is a Box” was actually supposed to end differently as well. And of course, so was “This Is Halloween.” Every once in awhile I’ll have a piece get away from me and end the way it wants, but most of them end the way I plan from the start.

Thanks for all your requests! I really appreciate your curiosity!

#Anon #asks #riddleverse mention #Ace Penguin #Mushrooms and more #FAIRIES!#Reading recommendations #130 Prompts #ridwriting #The bat with the hat #Bat cube and associates #Frayed Knots #Ask box games

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embarrassing-myself · 6 years

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Hiiiii, I'm not sure if you got my prompt or if tumblr ate it, if u did and didn't wanna do it/ didn't have time but in case but in case you didn't ! It was about mutual pining highschool stozier on Valentines day and the losers helping them confess/being done w them or something like that lmao (I think it was inspired by the mean girls scene where the school lets u send a cars or roses hahaha omg)

(I didn’t get it the first go around, I’m sorry! But I got it now and So glad you sent it to me!)

-Bill can’t pinpoint how he feels at the moment. Because Stan is truly his best friend, he’d do anything for that boy, but he doesn’t think he can go one more day listening to talk about how much he likes Richie and how Richie could /never/ like him back.

-Eddie is in the same boat so he understands, in fact all the losers understand to an extent. Richie will sit there sadly and talk about all the reasons why he can’t have Stan Uris. It’s getting out of hand.

-Both boys are so stupidly in love with each other but neither of them wants to believe that the other’s feelings might be requited.

-Ben is actually the one who comes up with the plan. Everyone has had enough and if Stan and Richie are too afraid to make the first move, the losers will just have to do It for them.

-”Do you really think this is going to work?” Mike asks nervously, Ben just shrugs in reply. “I don’t know, probably.”

-Mike is on the class committee. Which means he gets to help with dances and events and of course the valentines candygrams. Which are just valentines cards with a message and a packet of those sweet tart hearts.

-The first candygram Ben writes out is from “Stan” and it reads ‘I’ve always wanted to tell you how I felt. I’ve wanted to ask you out since middle school. Meet me at my locker after class if the answer is a yes. -Stanly U.’

-”There is like a million ways this could go wrong,” Eddie says with a wince when he helps Ben write out “Richie’s” card.

-”We have to get them to shut up and finally go out with each other, it’s the only way we’re gonna get any peace,” Bev said with a sigh as she watched the boys write out the next candgram.

-’You have no idea how much I like you. If you feel the same way, meet me at your locker after our last hour. Richie T.’

-”I still think we should have went with ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, I’d do anything to blow you.’ That sounds like something Richie would say,” Eddie mumbles but by lunch time each boy would have gotten their message.

-Richie doesn’t his fifth hour with Stan, which is when Mike happily shows up with the Valentine messages. “Oh look Richie, you’ve got one too!” He smiles, giving it to the other. In reality Richie had a handful of admires but Mike isn’t going to put their plan in jeopardy.

-”One for you too, Stan,” Bill says with a smile in a different class room all the way on the other side of the school.

-Both boys go pale, then red, then pale again when they read the messages. Neither of them can believe and the whole day goes by in a massive giddy blur. After class Stan bolts to his locker, nearly tripping over a few freshmen in the process.

-In fact he gets there a whole three minutes before Richie does. Richie just stares for a moment with the brightest and the biggest smile. And then he flings himself into Stan’s arms. And Stan can’t believe it’s really happening but he wraps his arms around Riche in return. “Happy Valentine’s Day Richie,” Stan says softly when the other boy pulls away some.

-”Happy Valentine’s Day, Stan,” Riche mumbles as he presses a kiss to Stan’s cheek. Both boys are too caught up in their own little world to notice the five people staring at them from around the corner.

#stozier #richie tozier #Stan Uris #it 2017 #headcanon #hc #prompt

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saltyandoverdramatic · 6 years

Text

Sometimes it takes a succulent...

Read it on AO3

Shiro catches Matt stealing succulents and friendships happen.

Takashi Shirogane, a first year student in the Galaxy Garrison was walking toward the teachers’ lounge. It was quiet aside from the sound of his own footsteps echoing in the deserted halls. At one point, Shiro saw a giggling couple slip into an empty classroom to make out in peace and later a few students that were looking for a place to study.

Shiro himself was going to turn in an assignment for Mrs. Harris’ class. He’d forgotten it in his room that morning and had been unable to retrieve it earlier. The assignment was supposed to be turned in that day in class, but the teacher had been kind enough to give him the opportunity to return the assignment after his classes.

Nobody liked going to the teachers’ lounge. The teachers hated being interrupted when they finally had some time away from the loud and annoying students and often the poor kid who, for some reason, had been forced to step into the lion’s den was met with glaring and judging looks. This was especially bad if you were a first year. The teachers immediately assumed that you were loud and disrespectful. This wasn’t always true, and there had been some cases of people dropping out due to being bullied by the teachers.

To Shiro’s relief, there wouldn’t be many teachers there because most of the flight classes for older students took place around this time. The flight program was the Garrison’s pride and joy and thus it got most funds and the students had the whole evening for flight classes. Most of the teachers and staff were either observing simulations to make sure nothing went wrong or teaching the students the correct way to fly and land a spacecraft.

Having finally reached the teachers’ lounge, Shiro pushed the door open without knocking and stepped inside. He froze in place after taking a few steps when he saw a lanky boy, another first year, with huge round glasses and auburn hair, stuffing tiny potted plants that were previously sat in the middle of the coffee table in the pockets of his sweatpants.

They were staring at each other with looks like deer in the headlights on their faces. Neither of them dared to move, as they both knew that breaking the mutual silence would mean a confrontation which neither of them was all that eager to deal with.

The awkward silence and stillness gave Shiro the chance to get a better look at the boy and recognize him as one of his classmates. Shiro was pretty sure his name began with an M, though he wasn’t sure. What he did know however was that the boy was very intelligent and funny as he sometimes threw random comments or jokes in his answers during class in an attempt to make people laugh.

Eventually Shiro found his voice, asking the question that confused him the most. “Why are you stuffing plants in your pockets?

The boy- Marco? Mike? Seemed to sober at the comment. He stood up straight, one small potted plant still held in his hand. “They are succulents you ignorant fool.”

The tension in the room disappeared with those words, leaving Shiro exasperated. He rolled his eyes “Sorry, why are you stuffing succulents in your pockets?”

The boy- Shiro really had to learn his name, shrugged and cradled the remaining succulent to his chest. “They are pretty. I want them.”

“I don’t think stealing them is the best way to get a succulent. How did you even know they had succulents?” Shiro asked. This was probably the weirdest thing that could have happened. He’d come here expecting to get glared at, but instead he caught a succulent thief in the act and now he was talking to that guy about those same succulents he was trying to steal.

“I needed to get something from Mr. Richards, saw them, wanted them. Nobody knows whose they are, so-” He lifted the plant above his head like in that one scene from Lion King. ”I’m adopting them!”

Shiro sighed and walked over, snatching the plant from the shorter boy’s hands. “Just because nobody says they’re theirs, doesn’t mean you can take them.”

The boy frowned and tried to get the plant back, even jumping to get it, but Shiro held it above his head, far out of the other boy’s reach. “Buuutttt!” he whined, eyes still on the succulent.

”No buts. Put them back.”

The boy gave Shiro the cutest puppy look he had ever seen, his bright amber and gold eyes wide and shining with unshed tears, a small pout on his face and the splash of freckles paired with round glasses gave him an innocent look that was impossible to resist. “Please don’t tell anyone. I’ll just take two!”

Shiro could feel his resolve breaking and he had to look away from the auburn haired boy so that he wouldn’t give in and let the boy steal the Garrison’s property. ”There are just three of them”

”Yeah. I wouldn’t take all of them. I’d leave one.”

Shiro groaned, running a hand over his face. “They would know who took them. You ca-”

He was interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the hall just outside. The steps were coming closer at an alarming speed. Shiro paled. They were going to get caught and kicked out of the Garrison. His parents would be so disappointed in him. He would never be able to reach his dreams and never get to go to space. His mom would find out. He was so dead.

The succulent thief cursed under his breath in a language Shiro didn’t understand and grabbed the taller boy’s wrist. “And that’s our cue. Time to go Cheeto Buff!”

He dragged Shiro to the other end of the room where there conveniently was a backdoor. He quickly opened it and they burst out moments before Iverson shrieked: “WHERE ARE MY SUCCULENTS?????”

The boy dragged Shiro away, pulling him along through the halls. They almost bumped into someone while running but they didn’t stop until they were in an empty hallway far away from the teachers’ lounge.

They were both breathing heavily from running. Shiro’s heart was beating a mile a minute and adrenaline was running through his veins. He felt like grinning stupidly. They’d just run away from Iverson. They could get expelled for this but Shiro just wanted to grin. His companion seemed to have a similar idea as he took one look at Shiro and started laughing uncontrollably.

”We- we just ran away from Iverson after we stole his succulents” The boy giggled. ”Oh man. Who knew Iverson collected succulents?”

Now that the boy had said it out loud, Shiro couldn’t control his own laughter, doubling over with the sheer force of it. “Correction.” He said between laughs. “You stole succulents. I just happened to stumble on it.”

The boy wiped his eyes. They had gotten teary when he laughed. “Then tell me, what is this?” He asked, taking the third succulent from Shiro’s other hand. He’d apparently kept holding on it the whole time they were running without even realizing he still had it. “You stole a succulent too. We’re practically partners in crime now.”

Shiro just rolled his eyes as a response.

“Sorry, we stole succulents together and I don’t even know your name. I’m Matt.” The succulent boy extended his hand to shake it with Shiro “And you are?”

“Shiro.” He took Matt’s hand and shook it, which made the shorter boy’s grin widen “And I didn’t intend to. It kind of just happened”

“Uh huh.” Matt nodded, not looking very convinced. “Either way, you ran away with me, which means you’re my partner in crime now.”

“You pulled me along and didn’t give me a choice.”

“I didn’t make you take the succulent.” Matt teased, waving the tiny potted plant in front of Shiro’s face teasingly.

Shiro looked at the plant for a moment, then pushed it aside to look at Matt in the eyes. “What are you going to do with the succulents?”

“I’m going to put these on display on my worktable!” Matt announced excitedly. “And I’m going to let you keep this one. It’ll forever be a reminder of how our friendship first began. With stealing succulents together.”

Shiro chuckled. “We’re friends now?”

“Of course.” Matt said, starting to walk away slowly, clearly expecting Shiro to follow. “One does not simply steal succulents with someone and not become friends with them.” Matt shot a shit eating grin over his shoulder. “By the way, you dropped your papers when we almost crashed into that one second year.”

“I did? Goddammit!” Shiro ran after Matt. “Wait- Where was that? Matt!”

The shorter of the two just laughed.

That day marked the beginning of their friendship and the succulents,

Well

They still sit proudly on Matt’s worktable.

//I forgot to publish this here. Oops.

#shatt #fluff #succulents #pre-relationship #first meeting #shiro #matt holt

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djnimbin · 5 years

Text

The Days Between

This is a letter Robert Hunter wrote to Jerry Garcia a year after his passing.

Dear JG,

it's been a year since you shuffled off the mortal coil and a lot has happened. It might surprise you to know you made every front page in the world. The press is still having fun, mostly over lawsuits challenging your somewhat ...umm... patchwork Last Will and Testament. Annabelle didn't get the EC horror comic collection, which I think would piss you off as much as anything. Nor could Dough Irwin accept the legacy of the guitars he built for you because the tax-assessment on them, icon-enriched as they are, is more than he can afford short of selling them off. The upside of the craziness is: your image is selling briskly enough that your estate should manage something to keep various wolves from various familial doors, even after the lawyers are paid. How it's to be divided will probably fall in the hands of the judge. An expert on celebrity wills said in the news that yours was a blueprint on how not to make a will.

The band decided to call it quits. I think it's a move that had to be made. You weren't exactly a sideman. But nothing's for certain. Some need at least the pretense of retirement after all these years. Can they sustain it? We'll see.

I'm writing this from England, by the way. Much clarity of perspective to be had from stepping out of the scene for a couple of months. What isn't so clear is my own role, but it's really no more problematic than it has been for the last decade. As long as I get words on paper and can lead myself to believe it's not bullshit, I'm roughly content. I'm not exactly Mr. Business.

I decided to get a personal archive together to stick on that stagnating computer site we had. Really started pouring the mustard on. I'm writing, for crying out loud, my diary on it! Besides running my ego full tilt (what's new?) I'm trying to give folks some skinny on what's going down. I don't mean I'm busting the usual suspects left and right, but am giving a somewhat less than cautious overview and soapboxing more than a little. They appointed me webmaster, and I hope they don't regret it.

There are those in the entourage who quietly believe we're washed up without you. Even should time and circumstance prove it to be so, we need to believe otherwise long enough to get some self sustaining operations going, or we'll never know for sure. It's matter of self respect. Maybe it's a long shot, but this whole fucking trip was a longshot from the start, so what else is new?

Your funeral service was one hell of a scene. Maureen and I took Barbara and Sara in and sat with them. MG waited over at our place. Manasha and Keelan were also absent. None by choice. Everybody from the band said some words and Steve, especially, did you proud, speaking with great love and candor. Annabelle got up and said you were a genius, a great guy, a wonderful friend, and a shitty father - which shocked part of the contingent and amused the rest. After awhile the minister said that that was enough talking, but I called out, from the back of the church, "Wait, I've got something!" and charged up the aisle and read this piece I wrote for you, my voice and hands shaking like a leaf. Man, it was weird looking over and seeing you dead!

A slew of books have come out about you and more to follow. Perspective is lacking. It's way too soon. You'd be amazed at the number of people with whom you've had a nodding acquaintance who are suddenly experts on your psychology and motivations. Your music still speaks louder than all the BS: who you were, not the messes you got yourself into. Only a very great star is afforded that much inspection and that much forgiveness.

There was so much confusion on who should be allowed to attend the scattering of your ashes that they sat around for four months. It was way too weird for this cowboy who was neither invited nor desirous of going. I said good-bye with my poem at the funeral service. It was cathartic and I didn't need an anti-climax.

A surreal sidelight: Weir went to India and scattered a handful of your ashes in the Ganges as a token of your worldwide stature. He took a lot of flak from the fans for it, which must have hurt. A bunch of them decided to scapegoat him, presumably needing someplace to misdirect their anger over the loss of you. In retrospect, I think Weir was hardest hit of the old crowd by your death. I take these things in my stride, though I admit to a rough patch here and there. But Bob took it right on the chin. Shock was written all over his face for a long time, for any with eyes to see.

Some of the guys have got bands together and are doing a tour. The fans complain it's not the same without you, and of course it isn't, but a reasonable number show up and have a pretty good time. The insane crush of the latter day GD shows is gone and that's all for the best. From the show I saw, and reports on the rest, the crowd is discovering that the sense of community is still present, matured through mutual grief over losing you. This will evolve in more joyous directions over time, but no one's looking to fill your shoes. No one has the presumption.

Been remembering some of the key talks we had in the old days, trying to suss what kind of a tiger we were riding, where it was going, and how to direct it, if possible. Driving to the city once, you admitted you didn't have a clue what to do beyond composing and playing the best you could. I agreed - put the weight on the music, stay out of politics, and everything else should follow. I trusted your musical sense and you were good enough to trust my words. Trust was the whole enchilada, looking back.

Walking down Madrone Canyon in Larkspur in 1969, you said some pretty mindblowing stuff, how we were creating a universe and I was responsible for the verbal half of it. I said maybe, but it was your way with music and a guitar that was pulling it off. You said "That's for now. This is your time in the shadow, but it won't always be that way. I'm not going to live a long time, it's not in the cards. Then it'll be your turn." I may be alive and kicking, but no pencil pusher is going to inherit the stratosphere that so gladly opened to you. Recalling your statement, though, often helped keep me oriented as my own star murked below the horizon while you streaked across the sky of our generation like a goddamned comet!

Though my will to achieve great things is moderated by seeing what comes of them, I've assigned myself the task of trying to honor the original vision. I'm not answerable to anybody but my conscience, which, if less than spotless, doesn't keep me awake at night. Maybe it's best, personally speaking, that the power to make contracts and deal the remains of what was built through the decades rests in other hands. I wave the flag and rock the boat from time to time, since I believe much depends on it, but will accept the outcome with equanimity.

Just thought it should be said that I no longer hold your years of self inflicted decline against you. I did for awhile, felt ripped off, but have come to understand that you were troubled and compromised by your position in the public eye far beyond anyone's powers to deal with. Star shit. Who can you really trust? Is it you or your image they love? No one can understand those dilemmas in depth except those who have no choice but to live them. You whistled up the whirlwind and it blew you away. Your substance of choice made you more malleable to forces you would have brushed off with a characteristic sneer in earlier days. Well, you know it to be so. Let those who pick your bones note that it was not always so.

So here I am, writing a letter to a dead man, because it's hard to find a context to say things like this other than to imagine I have your ear, which of course I don't. Only to say that what you were is more startlingly apparent in your absence than ever it was in the last decade. I remember sitting in the waiting room of the hospital through the days of your first coma. Not being related, I wasn't allowed into the intensive care unit to see you until you came to and requested to see me. And there you were - more open and vulnerable than I'd ever seen you. You grasped my hand and began telling me your visions, the crazy densely packed phantasmagoria way beyond any acid trip, the demons and mechanical monsters that taunted and derided, telling you endless bad jokes and making horrible puns of everything - and then you asked, point blank, "Have I gone insane?" I said "No, you've been very sick. You've been in a coma for days, right at death's door. They're only hallucinations, they'll go away. You survived." "Thanks," you said. "I needed to hear that."

Your biographers aren't pleased that I don't talk to them, but how am I to say stuff like this to an interviewer with an agenda? I sometimes report things that occur to me about you in my journal, as the moment releases it, in my own way, in my own time, and they can take what they want of that.

Obviously, faith in the underlying vision which spawned the Grateful Dead might be hard to muster for those who weren't part of the all night rap sessions circa 1960-61 ... sessions that picked up the next morning at Kepler's bookstore then headed over to the Stanford cellar or St. Mike's to continue over coffee and guitars. There were no hippies in those days and the beats had bellied up. There was only us vs. 50's consciousness. There no jobs to be had if we wanted them. Just folk music and tremendous dreams. Yeah, we dreamed our way here. I trust it. So did you. Not so long ago we wrote a song about all that, and you sang it like a prayer. The Days Between. Last song we ever wrote.

Context is lost, even now. The sixties were a long time ago and getting longer. A cartoon version of our times satisfies public perception. Our continuity is misunderstood as some sort of strange persistence of an outmoded style. Beads, bell bottoms and peace signs. But no amount of pop cynicism can erase the suspicion, in the minds of the present generation, that something was going on once that was better than what's going on now. And I sense that they're digging for "what it is" and only need the proper catalyst to find it for themselves. Your guitar is like a compass needle pointing the strange way there. I'm wandering far afield from the intention of this letter, a year's report, but this year wasn't made up only of events following your death in some roughly chronological manner. It reached down to the roots of everything, shook the earth off, and inspected them. The only constant is the fact that you remain silent. Various dances are done around that fact.

Don't misconstrue me, I don't waste much time in grief. Insofar as you were able, you were an exponent of a dream in the continual act of being defined into a reality. You had a massive personality and talent to present it to the world. That dream is the crux of the matter, and somehow concerns beauty, consciousness and community. We were, and are, worthy insofar as we serve it. When that dream is dead, there'll be time enough for true and endless grief.

John Kahn died in May, same day Leary did. Linda called 911 and they came over and searched the house, found a tiny bit of coke and carted her off to jail in shock. If the devil himself isn't active in this world, there's sure something every bit as mean: institutional righteousness without an iota of fellow feeling. But, as I figure, that's the very reason the dream is so important - it's whatever is the diametric opposite of that. Human kindness.

Trust me that I don't walk around saying "this was what Jerry would have wanted" to drive my points home. What you wanted is a secret known but to yourself. You said 'yes' to what sounded like a good idea at the time, 'no' to what sounded like a bad one. I see more of what leadership is about, in the absence of it. It's an instinct for good ideas. An aversion to bad ones. Compromise on indifferent ones. Power is another matter. Power is not leadership but coercion. People follow leaders because they want to.

I know you were often sick and tired of the conflicting demands made on you by contentious forces you invited into your life and couldn't as easily dismiss. You once said to me, in 1960, "just say yes to everybody and do what you damn well want." Maybe, but when every 'yes' becomes an IOU payable in full, who's coffer is big enough to pay up? "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke!" would be a characteristic reply. Unfortunately, you're not around to explain what was a joke and what wasn't. It all boils down to signed pieces of paper with no punch lines appended.

I know what I'm saying in this letter can be taken a hundred ways. As always, I just say what occurs to me to say and can't say what doesn't. Could I write a book about you? No. Didn't know you well enough. Let those who knew you even less write them. You were canny enough to keep your own self to yourself and let your fingers do the talking. Speaking of 'personal matters' was never your shtick.

Our friendship was testy. I challenged you rather more than you liked, having a caustic tongue. In later years you preferred the company of those capable of keeping it light and non-judgmental. I think it must always be that way with prominent and powerfully gifted persons. I don't say that, for the most part, your inner circle weren't good and true. They'd have laid down their lives for you. I'd have had to think about it. I mean, a star is a star is a star. There's no reality check. If the truth were known, you were too well loved for your own good, but that smacks of psychologizing and I drop the subject forthwith

All our songs are acquiring new meanings. I don't deny writing with an eye to the future at times, but our mutual folk, blues and country background gave us a mutual liking for songs that dealt with sorrow and the dark issues of life. Neither of us gave a fuck for candy coated shit, psychedelic or otherwise. I never even thought of us as a "pop band." You had to say to me one day, after I'd handed over the Eagle Mall suite, "Look, Hunter - we're a goddamn dance band, for Christ's sake! At least write something with a beat!" Okay. I handed over Truckin' next. How was I to know? I thought we were silver and gold; something new on this Earth. But the next time I tried to slip you the heavy stuff, you actually went for it. Seems like you'd had the vision of the music about the same time I had the vision of the words, independently. Terrapin. Shame about the record, but the concert piece, the first night it was played, took me about as close as I ever expect to get to feeling certain we were doing what we were put here to do. One of my few regrets is that you never wanted to finish it, though you approved of the final version I eked out many years later. You said, apologetically, "I love it, but I'll never get the time to do it justice." I realized that was true. Time was the one thing you never had in the last decade and a half. Supporting the Grateful Dead plus your own trip took all there was of that. The rest was crashing time. Besides, as you once said, "I'd rather toss cards in a hat than compose." But man, when you finally got down on it, you sure knew how.

The pressure of making regular records was a creative spur for a long time, but poor sales put the economic weight on live concerts where new material wasn't really required, so my role in the group waned. A difficult time for me, being at my absolute peak and all. I had to go on the road myself to make a living. It was good for me. I developed a sense of self direction that didn't depend on the Dead at all. This served well for the songs we were still to write together. You sure weren't interested in flooding the market. You knew one decent song was worth a dozen cobbled together pieces of shit, saved only by arrangement. I guess we have a few of those too, but the percentage is respect ably low. Pop songs come and go, blossom and wither, but we scored a piece of Americana, my friend. Sooner or later, they'll notice what we did doesn't die the way we do. I've always believed that and so did you. Once in awhile we'd even call each other "Mister" and exchange congratulations. Other people are starting to record those songs now, and they stand on their own.

For some reason it seems worthwhile to maintain the Grateful Dead structures: Rex, the website, GDP, the deadhead office, the studio ... even with the band out of commission. I don't know if this is some sort of denial that the game is finished, or if the intuitive impulse is a sound one. I feel it's better to have it than not, just in case, because once it's gone there's no bringing it back. The forces will disperse and settle elsewhere. A business that can't support itself is, of course, no business at all, just a locus of dissension, so the reality factor will rule. Diminished as we are without you, there is still some of the quick, bright spirit around. I mean, you wouldn't have thrown in your lot with a bunch of belly floppers, would you?

Let me see - is there anything I've missed? Plenty, but this seems like a pretty fat report. You've been gone a year now and the boat is still afloat. Can we make it another year? What forms will it assume? It's all kind of exciting. They say a thousand years are only a twinkle in God's eye. Is that so?

Missing you in a longtime way RH

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