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jo-harrington · 3 months

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Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 1: Alternate Universe

Previous Chapter: Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Your unexpected arrival in Hawkins brings many questions for Eddie...but he knows better than to ask dumb questions.

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Love at First Sight?, Tiny Angst if you Squint, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Lovesick Eddie, unbelievable pacing...just roll with it, Everything's Coming Up Munson

Note: Thanks to everyone who read the prologue.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

It seemed like everyone was there to say goodbye.

Your parents, Sam, Pat, Bonnie, all of your friends and their families. Everyone you know.

What a surprise.

You thought it was gonna be a quick morning getaway.

You'd already had dinner at Danny's last night with your parents and had seen countless faces—familiar and unfamiliar—who'd wished you well. This morning was just supposed to be about bags placed in the trunk, last minute hugs and tears from your mom, and then off you'd go.

You hadn't expected this.

Some little voice inside of you questioned why you hadn't; you'd known them all for practically your whole life.

5 years.

What...no...18 years.

Why wouldn't they want to be here as you embarked on your big journey away?

Sam gave a tearful speech. Your dad made some corny joke that only a dad could, one that had everyone in uproarious laughter--more laughter than people, it seemed--and then it was time to go.

You didn't have a real schedule, of course, you just wanted to make it to your destination with ample time. Nothing like driving into an unfamiliar town in the middle of the night only to find yourself in a heap of trouble.

Pat, ever observant, was the one to notice the anxiety etched on your face. He was as much your best friend as Sam was, maybe even more than she was; you'd known each other since Kindergarten, sat next to each other in the reading circle, of course he could tell you were itching to leave.

"Alright guys," he announced, clapping his hands twice the way a star quarterback would. "I'm sure she's ready to get away from all of us."

"Yeah," Sam let out a watery laugh. "You need to go so you can come back as soon as possible. Wink wink." She flashed her hand with the little diamond chip engagement ring that you helped Pat pick out, and then she collapsed against you in a hug.

"You go and you have the best time," she whispered in your ear. You nodded and buried your face in her hair. "I can't wait to hear all about it. Write letters home? Call? But don't worry about us, we'll all be safe here. Ok?"

"Yeah," you said breathlessly.

Then the next thing you knew, in the blink of an eye, you were in the driver's seat of your car, rolling towards the end of the block. You adjusted your rearview mirror and saw everyone you loved waving goodbye to you. You rolled down your window, and blew them a kiss and sent a wave; you'd miss them so much. You'd be back soon enough though; now it was time for you to just be free.

“Go back?” you quoted one Mr. Bilbo Baggins to yourself as you turned the corner and left everything you knew behind. “Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!”

This was it.

Eddie was dead.

That had to be the explanation.

Your car was one thing, and he could excuse it. He could convince himself it was anything else.

But you? His favorite character from his favorite television show. Someone who was absolutely, definitely fictional.

It was impossible.

"Hey!" you called out to the Mayfields with your voice, your your voice and not Rosemary Glass's voice. Your real voice. Yours.

Eddie pinched himself pretty unforgivingly—one last ditch effort to prove this was a dream—and winced.

Not dreaming. Definitely dead.

You quickly shut the door and crossed the distance towards Susan and Max.

"I'm sorry, it's late and it's cold; I've been driving all over and the road got icy, I must have lost traction. Need new tires maybe."

"Too bad," Susan snapped at you. "You hit my car, I'm calling the sheriff."

The two of you went back and forth for a second as you tried to get her not to call the cops and she stood her ground.

"I can pay for it!" You exclaimed suddenly and Susan froze in her spot. "And then some, for...I dunno, emotional distress I guess. I know it's late. I'm sure I woke you guys up. I'm just...I'm sorry."

You looked around self consciously all of a sudden, and Eddie could hear the faint murmur as you said something under your breath. He froze as your gaze slid over him, paused, and then kept going.

Play it cool, Munson. Don't pass out. Don't fuck this up.

It was hard when the love of his life was standing right there, in the flesh, and had just looked at him.

As Susan and Max met you in the middle of the yard to talk details, Eddie gave himself the pep talk of the century.

Even if he was dead and this was some sort of afterlife, surely the fates had certainly set this up for him. Some being of greater conscience than he--a mere human--could possibly comprehend was giving him this chance at...love? Happiness? It would be a good reward after an unremarkable end to a shitty life.

Or maybe he was still alive and had actually sold his soul to the devil back inside and this was the payoff.

"I'll fucking take it," he muttered to himself and fished another cigarette from the pack with shaky hands; he was gonna need it if he was gonna survive the night.

He watched the interaction between you and Susan with a keen eye, eager to witness the little gestures and mannerisms that he'd only seen on screen. Once it seemed Susan was happy with whatever deal you'd negotiated, you pulled a scrap of paper from the back pocket of your jeans and gesture vaguely around. Max was the one to snatch it from your hand and then point to a dark trailer that sat kitty corner from Granny's.

Were you gonna be his neighbor? This was just getting better and better.

"Thanks," you smiled and, even from this distance, Eddie's heart stopped.

If he was barely hanging on thanks to your presence, how was he gonna survive your smile? Especially if it was inevitably directed at him.

"Pull it together," he grumbled and took a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry flaring extra bright in the darkness of night.

The Mayfields retreated into their home and you shuffled back over to your car, feet kicking the gravel.

You were about to get back in when Eddie abruptly jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" He called out to you. "Uh...I...know my way around cars, I can take a look at it in the morning. I-if you want. Bang out any dents."

"Can you?" you scrunched your nose in the way that made his knees shake. God he was pathetic. "That'd be nice, thanks."

"Yeah no problem," he smiled the friendliest and most welcoming smile he could.

His thoughts raced at lightspeed now, a mixture of logic and hope. No matter the circumstance, you were here because of him, which meant that this was his shot. So, he would fix your car--or at least try to--figure out if you were some sort of demon or something, and then ask you out.

Easy.

And hopefully you'd say yes. Hopefully. Eddie was gonna be optimistic, but not an idiot. He had to stay humble.

As you maneuvered your car the short distance to the dark trailer, Eddie watched. And in the glow of your taillights, he noticed the abundance of bumper stickers that adorned the trunk. Stickers that weren’t there in the finale, which meant…

"She got to have her adventure," he said to himself in awe, happy that...at least in the few months since you left Port Geneva, you might’ve gotten to experience the world just like you wanted to.

He couldn't wait to ask you all about it. He couldn't wait to find out everything.

The morning took way too long to arrive.

Eddie tried to sleep but he was too wired, too excited.

He already decided that he was gonna skip class the next day. Or maybe roll in late if you had someplace you needed to be and he wouldn't get to show you around town or something else totally not lame.

That’s what he was banking on, though. If you had no plans, he could take you to Benny’s and get you a short stack with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, just like you got at Danny’s Diner back home.

“Alright,” he stared at himself in the mirror as he stepped out of the shower. “See? You can’t do that kind of shit. Can’t scare her away by making her think you know her already. That’s creepy. Gotta act like we don't know her. Easy.”

Not that easy, actually.

He was just...bubbling with thoughts and feelings. Enough that they caused his brain to go into meltdown.

At first, he tried to rationalize it all, tried to come up with some solution. Because somehow, for reasons to be determined at a later time, you left the confines of Port Geneva’s universe and made it to this one, where you were actually definitely real.

Right? You couldn't be a hallucination if the Mayfields had talked to you too. In fact, they talked to you first. So if anything, you were their hallucination.

Eddie tried to recall something that Henderson and Sinclair had babbled on about at lunch the other day: some new issue of the Flash comics. Crisis on Infinite Universes or something where people jumped to different timelines. Whatever that meant. If he had the time, he knew he should ask them a few questions about different universes and how this might all be possible.

Purely hypothetical, spin it as some idea for a campaign.

But why would he wait and let a good thing pass him up just because this was weird and he had questions?

Best case scenario, no one beside him would realize that you were a tv character, they would just think your name was familiar or something.

Worst case scenario they accuse him of witchcraft and bringing you into this dimension or something because there was no way you were real.

It would all work itself out in the end. He just had to be uncharacteristically optimistic and keep his eyes on the prize.

Come morning, Wayne got home from work and he walked in the door just as Eddie had changed clothes for the fifth time, made coffee AND breakfast for him, and washed the dishes.

��Well isn’t this a surprise,” he remarked and stared at the scene in front of him. “Do I wanna know what you did?”

“You remember when I was younger,” Eddie began as he fiddled with his rings. “And I asked you…I dunno…something about the birds and the bees and you said ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older kid?’”

“Hmm,” Wayne crossed his arms over his chest and ran a hand over his mouth. “Go on.”

“It’s nothing bad but, uh, I’ll tell you when you’re older Wayne.”

His uncle cracked a fond smile, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and then shuffled down to the bathroom.

Eddie sighed in relief and took a sip of his coffee while he looked out the window towards your trailer. It was daytime now; he didn’t expect to see lights on or anything, but he knew you got in late and didn’t want to interrupt your sleep. Not a great first impression.

Before long, though, he’d just gotten too antsy to wait anymore. He practically sprinted—damn when was he gonna learn that he shouldn’t skip gym so much—across the park to your door, Wayne's meager toolbox from under the sink swinging from his hand.

He paused the slightest bit to admire your car--

How many hours of screen time had been spent in this exact car as you drove Sam and the gang around for various shenanigans. There was one episode, a favorite of his, where everyone was belting out a tune from the radio and you sat there in the driver's seat...too shy to open your mouth. When they finally coerced you? You had the worst singing voice...but you smiled so brightly...that was the moment he knew he loved you...

--and, more importantly, the stickers that adorned it.

There were some normal ones: funny phrases, a few band stickers he wouldn’t have expected you to listen to, and a single borderline political one. A sticker that specifically caught his eye said “Greetings from Erebor” with a sword that had to be Orcrist and dwarvish runes below it.

You were a girl after his own heart; fortunately, it already belonged to you.

Then there were the ones you’d obviously picked up on your travels. He took an extra moment to look at them and think of some questions he could ask. A favorite place you visited, something crazy you might have eaten, or even some fun facts about...Monument Valley, Ocala National Forest, Mystic Falls Virginia, or…Cicely Alaska?

“Damn,” he let out a low whistle. “Must've put some miles on this thing.”

Having spent enough time just standing there, Eddie finally climbed the stairs and knocked on your door; the walls were thin enough that he could hear you shuffling around inside and he was relieved that he hadn’t woken you.

The door swung open--Eddie swore he heard the applause track from Port Geneva play in his head--and then there you were.

It was a moment he would cherish in his heart for the rest of his days. You, standing there, smiling that sweet, unsure smile at him with slightly tired but nevertheless bright eyes. Your clothes were askew from sleep or aforementioned shuffling and you straightened them out a little when you realized what you might look like.

“Cigarette porch guy,” you pointed a finger at him in recollection after a moment.

Now was the time, though, to muster up every ounce of Munson Magic that he could. He collected it deep in the core of him and then let it mingle with affection in his heart.

"Cigarette porch guy is my father. You can just call me Eddie."

You snorted a laugh and he beamed confidently; that confidence, however, fled his body as he felt the urge to hop around, giggle, and say "I know" when you introduced yourself. He needed to not screw this up by being a hyper mega-fan.

“I was so tired when I got in, I honestly thought you were a figment of my imagination,” you explained. "I woke up at like...4am trying to figure out if you were real or not."

Funny. He was trying to figure out the same thing.

Still, his heart skipped a beat to know you'd thought about him in any capacity after the few words you'd shared.

“Ouch,” he laid a hand on his chest and feigned a stumble. “I know it was late but I would hope I made a bit of a better impression than that.”

You pressed your lips together, scrunched your nose, and looked down at your feet.

“I’m, uh,” Eddie thumbed over his shoulder. “Here to take a look at your car.”

“Oh!” Your head snapped right back up. “Right! Yes, oh my god thank you. Let me just…get my keys and my shoes hang on.”

You retreated back into the trailer and Eddie, nosy as he was, peeked inside after you. Wayne would be ashamed of him, but he couldn't exactly care right now.

Your trailer mirrored other ones in the park, in terms of layout: a living room, a little kitchen, a hall that probably led to a bedroom. There was furniture though, which was not the norm.

A green armchair and a very well-worn blue plaid sofa that was home to a granny-square quilt, a too-soft pillow, and a very fancy canvas bedroll that Eddie assumed must have belonged to you. There was a dusty coffee table stacked with dustier magazines and newspapers and some very questionable looking mugs and plates of what used to be food. Yuck. A green bicycle with one tire was hung vertically on the wall beside the couch. And a little dining set off the kitchen looked like something straight out of the Brady Bunch.

He tried to remember who lived here before you did with such weird taste in furniture. Even more peculiar, where they might have gone for them to leave all of it behind. Especially the plates. No one came to mind though; he'd have to ask Wayne.

You shuffled down the hall--presumably from the bathroom since you'd slept out on the couch--and hopped as you tugged your sneakers on.

You jingled your keys at him excitedly.

"Here we go," you exclaimed. He held his hand out to take them and you were about to drop them in his palm when you hesitated. "I hope I'm not putting you out."

"Of course not," he reassured you and then backed out of the doorway. "It's my pleasure."

You listened aptly as he touted his excellent mechanic skills--

"You, uh...might hear my van rumble a little bit though. Haven't quite figured out why it's making that sound yet."

--and then you sat on the porch steps to watch him as he got to work.

The two of you talked as he inspected your car.

You were surprisingly very good at making conversation. Eddie always believed that you were a little soft spoken or a little shy, watching you on tv. However, as you spoke so excitedly and confidently and he saw you bloom in front of his very eyes, he wondered if it was just a byproduct of being overlooked whenever Sam took the spotlight with her grand speeches, big emotions, and too-bright personality.

He was suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing the real you and learning a lot more that wasn't shown on TV. In return, he could show you the real him too. Hell, he was always trying to be the real him...there were just some things though...

What an odd idea that hadn't really hit him until now. The desire to have you in his life to share things with, and the reality of having you here. He'd never thought of a relationship with a future before, hell hadn't even thought of his future really. Not even with Paige and the whole rockstar pipe dream, as short-lived as that was.

But the more he thought of that with you, the more he liked it. Desired it.

You started the conversation off by asking him about Hawkins and if he'd lived here for long. He gave probably the most unbiased opinion that he could as he hammered out the dents from your collision: it was a sleepy suburb where nothing ever happened and everyone was judgmental and opinionated and hated everyone who disturbed the status quo.

“Aren’t they all like that?” You asked, one eye sliding shut in a mischievous wink as you raised both brows in question.

“Yeah, I’m sure they are.”

Then he asked you about how you ended up in Hawkins, of all the places you could have picked, as he taped up the headlight that you'd cracked.

"It was fate or something. Had to bring me here so I could meet you right?" He sputtered over a response to that and you just laughed. "Actually, I just picked a place on a map. Pick two places. Flip a coin. That's how I pick most places I’ve been, you know?"

You took the opportunity to spin a tale about the so-called "perpetual roadtrip" that you'd embarked for the past year. His heart soared to hear that you’d been “practically everywhere” and he nodded eagerly when you offered to show him your sketchbook sometime with drawings of your favorite places.

"I know I need to go home at some point," you explained with a dismissive wave of your hand. "I guess I just don't know how to...stop driving. I've started this thing recently where I settle down somewhere for a little while. Maybe a few weeks? Maybe more. Get a job, get to know the people. Then I get to like...the final page of that chapter--the end of my little story in that place--and it's time for me to move on again.

"Actually, I guess it's not moving onto the next chapter; it's more like I've been written into a corner. I just...don't know what it is that I'm looking for. What it is that I need."

Eddie snorted to himself.

How many times had he asked himself what deity wrote his story into a pathetic corner where he couldn't leave Hawkins? And here you were feeling the same, only you were stuck in another way.

"Well...I hope you don't move on from Hawkins too quickly," he said, full of naive hope. "Maybe you'll find what you need here."

"Hmm," you rested your chin on your knees and sighed. "You know what? I kinda hope so too."

There was a lot of weight in your gaze as you watched him, and Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and continued his inspection of the outside of the car so he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself with a mushy smile or a giggle.

He made his way back to the trunk and the bumper stickers; it was then that he asked about Cicely.

"Alaska? Seriously? You drove all the way up there?"

"Ok listen," you said with a conspiratorial grin. "I'm maybe a little bit of a phony. I traded someone for that one. This guy in a diner in Washington."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm. Damn fine cup of coffee." You snorted to yourself, some inside joke that he wished to be a part of.

"Is that, uh...a perpetual roadtrip thing?"

"I…I guess it is."

Finally, to end his self-proclaimed "ten-point inspection," Eddie got into the driver's seat to start the car, chatting all the while.

"Well, if you want a damn fine cup of coffee, there's this diner nearby that I swear makes the best. I know I haven't driven past Chicago or anything but..."

He trailed off as he turned the key in the ignition and noticed the odometer.

Your miles were in the millions.

Several million, at that.

He had half a mind to call you on your shit that you'd never been to Alaska because, surely, you had to have been with that high a number, but then he began to question the sight. He didn't think his odometer even went that high; none of the cars he'd ever seen went into the millions.

Was it just a Volkswagen thing? Or maybe a bi-product of you being here? A wrinkle in the fabric of reality?

Eddie tried to do the mental math but he couldn't figure out how many times you must have circled the states to hit that many miles. Or for how long.

A million miles divided by 365 days divided by 12 hours of driving in a day? He couldn’t do that much math without his head hurting. Still, it just didn't make sense. Maybe it was just broken?

"Everything alright?" you suddenly appeared at the door, teeth worrying your lower lip. You laughed but it didn’t quite meet your eyes. "You were just saying something about coffee and then you got all quiet. I don't need a new transmission or something do I?"

“You…” Eddie swallowed and stared at you, wondering if he should point out the odometer, if he should ask. Bur hadn't that been his problem just a few hours ago? Too many questions, too little time. Why was he going to pick this wonderful thing apart when he finally got what he deserved and yearned for all along.

“You...probably need an oil change,” he announced instead. “It sounds a little clunky. I, uh, can do it for you but I’ll need to stop by Thatcher Tires for some supplies.”

Your shoulders lost their tension and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Eddie, you’re seriously trying to be my hero, huh?” You fawned; hearing his name from your lips, let alone the fact you called him a hero, made his day. His year. Possibly his entire life. “You wanna fix everything else that’s wrong with my life?”

“I could try,” he offered eagerly.

“Don’t, I’ll seriously take you up on the offer.” You pressed your hands to your cheeks then looked back at the trailer. “Ok tell you what, give me like…20 minutes to get the road off of me and change. Then we can go to Thatcher Tires and you can show me this place with the best cup of coffee? And I can get you breakfast or something?”

Eddie was speechless again; were you…asking him out? Ok no you were just showing your gratitude, but it was a first step. Was everything going according to plan for the first time in his life?

He couldn’t count everything that happened in ‘84 for obvious reasons.

You noticed his hesitation and your eyes went wide.

“Unless you had other plans or someplace to be? I’ve already taken up enough of your time—“

“No!” He shouted and then backtracked to be a little softer. “I…no, there’s nothing else I have to do today. I’m…I’m all yours sweetheart.”

The rest of the day went by without a hitch.

And it truly was the rest of the day that you spent together.

It was almost too good to be true.

Eddie acted as chauffeur and self-proclaimed tour guide of Hawkins. He pointed out specific landmarks you'd need to know as he passed them: the town center, the grocery store, the post office.

"In case you want to send letters home or anything." He glanced your way slyly, hoping to maybe get some excited response about your friends back home, but you hummed noncommittally and turned your attention to the radio instead.

The rest of the ride to Benny's was spent swatting at each other's hands and bickering as you discussed music. When he mentioned that he had a band, you were awestruck, and Eddie's chest puffed with pride.

"Ok," you nodded appreciatively. "I see it now. The whole alt. metal wannabe rockstar thing. It suits you."

"You're gonna take back the whole wannabe rockstar thing when I write a song about you and it's a chart-topper," he teased.

"What's it gonna be about? My loser neighbor crashed her car, she held me hostage at the...dine-ar." You winced at the bad rhyme, but Eddie thought it was adorable. "Obviously I'm no Shakespeare. Please don't consider that my interview to be your songwriter."

You'd surprised Eddie by ordering an omelet instead of your usual, so Eddie, quick on his feet, ordered your usual instead and surprised you.

"Are you a mind reader? I always get that," you confessed. "I was just so tired last night, I figured I needed something a little more substantial."

Once the food arrived, though, you stared longingly at Eddie's strawberry and whipped cream covered pancakes. He took mercy on you and slid his plate to the middle of the table so you could take a few bites. You mirrored him with your own plate and he snagged a couple of bites of eggy, hammy, cheesy goodness.

You butt heads good-naturedly when it came time to dress up the plate of hash browns that came with your omelet. You wanted to keep it simple with salt and pepper, while he wanted them doused in ketchup. Back and forth, your forks clinked against each other's chosen condiment, over and over, until it was a veritable sword fight over the side dish.

"Stop it Eddie! They're so nice and crispy, don't ruin them."

"It won't ruin them. What are you saying right now? That you just don't like ketchup? You're breaking my heart."

"Some things are meant to be enjoyed in their pure and undisturbed state. Keep your filthy tomato goop away from my potatoes!"

The two of you laughed all the while, and Eddie swore it was the most fun he had outside of Hellfire in...quite some time.

Benny, who was also amused by your antics but not enough to listen to it for the rest of the morning, decided enough was enough and brought another plate of hash browns, "on the house if it'll prevent a food fight," before he retreated back to the kitchen.

The trip to Thatcher Tires was quick, and then the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon outside of your trailer again, chatting away as Eddie changed your oil. You sat on your stoop and doodled in your sketchbook as he regaled you with stories of his friends and his favorite haunts around Hawkins.

Granny had come out at one point to say hello and promised a welcome-to-the-park casserole, but after she left you noticed how he'd gotten a little sad and asked him what was wrong.

Eddie told you about Ronnie then, how much he missed her. How it was like missing a whole...bite had been taken out of his side when she finally left for college.

It felt like the easiest thing in the world--telling you everything and having you listen--because he'd already done it before, so many times. Only now, you were able to respond; he could look over and see you smile or laugh at one anecdote or another. Or offer some advice about your own friends who you missed. You didn't even judge him when he mentioned he was on his second repeat senior year; you just told him about your own story as an almost-drop-out.

You understood. You saw him. Just like he knew you would.

At some point late in the afternoon, as the sky began to take pink and orange hues and people started coming home from work, Eddie reluctantly called an end to your day together.

"I took up all of your time," he admitted bashfully, hands shoved in his pockets. "I'm sure you have a million things to take care of."

"I mean yeah," you shrugged. "But one day won't hurt. And it was a really good day."

"It was."

"Thanks for everything Eds." You immediately made a face and he laughed. "Eds? No. Ed...Eddie. God, sorry, I hate the whole figuring-out-the-nickname thing. So weird. Thanks for everthing Eddie."

"Yeah don't mention it," he chuckled.

It was a real midwest goodbye as you loitered at the bottom of your steps, prolonging both of your departures. A promise to bring over that tape he said he'd let you borrow, or to come share in Granny's proffered casserole when you finally received it.

Then finally, when you were practically in the door of your trailer, you turned around and stared at him, worrying your lip with your teeth as you often did.

"You know, I wasn't the valedictorian or anything, that's my best friend Sam," you shuffled your feet and paused for a minute. "But if you ever need help with homework or anything..."

"Yeah," he agreed a little too quickly, eager to get more time with you. "No, yeah...that sounds...great."

"I'm pretty good at history," you went on. "I have a crazy memory, you wouldn't even realize."

"No that sounds great, I'm, uh...failing history right now, actually," he admitted.

"Perfect! You know where to find me."

"It's a dat--study session!" He caught himself quickly, but not quick enough. He felt the heat building in his cheeks as you covered your mouth in a giggle. "Ignore me. Ignore that. I'm just gonna go...yeah."

And then, it was like in the movies. The angels were singing, birds chirping, the slowly dying sun beamed brightly on you as you opened your mouth and said:

"It can be a date if you want it to be. I had a lot of fun today, so I, uh, think that would be pretty great actually."

It was everything Eddie ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed.

A real date. With the real, very real, definitely not fictional girl of his dreams.

He smiled the biggest smile he ever had, big enough to rival a shark, that's how happy he was.

"It's a date, then."

Next Chapter: Out of Character

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secretagentspydetectiveninja · 2 months

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The new trilogy means we finally got official French translations of the fifth and sixth games (the fourth already had one) so I did my thing and played through them, since they're always a lot of fun. Here are some things about French Dual Destinies I thought you might like to know:

Yes, it's set in France as per usual. They are all French people who live in Paris. And yes, that means that in this universe there is a Japanese village themed around yokai within throwing distance of Paris.

Athena lived in America in this version, and therefore peppers her speech with English and Spanish. My favourite unhinged franglais line was "let's get au travail" which I will be using from now on because it's hilarious

Many characters got French pun names again. Simon's name is "Jack Lamenoire" -- Jack, because the French version of Simon Says uses the name Jack/Jacques, and "lame noire" means "black blade". (Also he's not British or anything in this version, he just speaks in somewhat old-timey French.)

He has multiple nicknames for the judge that are all slight variations of "Your Baldness". He doesn't do that "-dono" suffix thing but he does refer to Phoenix in particular as "Maître Wright".

...I don't like pointing out things I didn't like buuuuuut his voice is a huge downgrade. Actually, to be honest, I don't like the new French voices that much in general... idk man they just don't sound very enthusiastic...

Filch's name is "Arsène Loupet", reference to the famous fictional thief Arsène Lupin, which I thought was pretty cool! (Herlock Sholmes was also a reference to that series too btw!)

Athena and Apollo use informal pronouns for each other pretty much from the get-go, but there have been some changes from the previous games: Phoenix now uses the informal "tu" for Apollo (and Athena) whereas in the prev game he didn't, Pearl now uses "tu" for Phoenix as well, and Klavier uses "tu" for Apollo now (but Apollo still calls him the formal "vous" lmao)

SPEAKING OF... SPEAKING OF. The French localisation continues to utterly baffle me when it comes to Klavier (or Konrad as he's called in French). No listen, liSTEN. In the previous game he was specifically stated to be English and did his law exams in England and dropped English words into his speech (and this is still the case in the trilogy version, I checked). But now?? They seem to have gone back on it and in this game he says he's German again, like the in English translation??? But he's still dropping English words into his speech randomly????? Look I already went through the five stages of grief when I found out they'd english-ified him, I made my peace with it, and NOW they change it???????

God and his new French voice sucks too (his old one was actually good)... what have they done to you my poor boy, was making you English not bad enough T_T Oh and he and Athena didn't even get their little language club moment where they both start speaking in the same foreign language?? Like, that just straight-up didn't happen here and I had been waiting for it aauuugh it's cool it's fine it's cool i'm okay i'm--

True to Dual Destinies fashion, there are still typos. In an emotional moment, Apollo took a leave of asbence from the office. Not absence. Asbence.

I can't put my finger on it but Robin's coming out scene felt more... respectful in French? The English translation was done over a decade ago so it feels somewhat dated, maybe that's why... I obviously don't know if she was purposely written to be a trans girl but she very much comes across that way, and it feels like the French translators were aware of that interpretation and took it into account, idk maybe it's just me

THEY GOT RID OF MY FAVOURITE LINE. THE FORESHADOWEY ONE WHERE SIMON TELLS ATHENA THAT THE PERSON SHE WANTS TO SAVE MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD DOESN'T DESIRE HER DEFENCE, AND HE'S CLEARLY TALKING ABOUT HIMSELF. THE FRENCH MADE HIM SAY SOMETHING ELSE WAY LESS COOL. I don't wanna be like "FRENCH TURNABOUT ACADEMY IS DEAD TO ME" because most of it was awesome, but man these occasional things made me wanna flip tables

Cosmic Turnabout and Turnabout for Tomorrow were great in French though, so there's that. Clay's French name is "Pierre" which worked surprisingly well because it means stone or rock, and the moon rock was also called that, so like, the phantom had to kill Pierre in order to get the pierre... idk it worked and it was cool

Simon and Athena switch to using informal pronouns for each other very near the end of the game, in the scene where they work together to psychologically mess with the phantom. It's around the time when they start openly calling each other by first name since everyone knows now that they're old friends.

Phoenix and Edgeworth also occasionally refer to each other by first name in this game, which threw me off completely. (Reminder that Edgeworth's French name is "Benjamin Hunter". Just picture Phoenix standing in front of Edgeworth and calling him BENJAMIN. Now you understand how absolutely bizarre it felt.)

Here's the entirety of The Dissin' of Phoenix Wright in French

#ace attorney #dual destinies #aa5 spoilers #random stuff #there's actually a fan translation of this game too but last i checked it wasn't publicly available yet #i think i'd still like to play it though. i know they worked super hard on it #i'll make a post about the next game as well when i can be bothered bc i have stuff to say about that too

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david-talks-sw · 1 year

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George Lucas & Karen Traviss' visions of Star Wars are NOT the same...

So whenever I come across this image:

I keep in mind that it's from a book written by Karen Traviss, who is a brilliant author (I adored Legacy of the Force: Bloodlines and Sacrifice) but whose stance on Anakin, Yoda & the Jedi and Star Wars morality is this:

As opposed to George Lucas' stance on Anakin, Yoda & the Jedi and Star Wars' morality, which is this:

In a children's story about Light and Dark, good and evil, selflessness vs selfishness, George Lucas marks the Empire as absolutely evil and the Rebels as absolutely good, in the Original Trilogy.

In the Prequels, the situation is more complex (the Jedi are drafted into a war and forced to do things they know they shouldn't be doing, but have to for the greater good; the Sith bring about order to a corrupt government) but the morality stays the same... the selfish, greedy Sith are absolutely evil and the selfless, compassionate Jedi are absolutely good.

That's George's thesis.

And, as a character, Yoda's function is to deliver that thesis. It's no wonder why Lucas treats Yoda's words as absolutely correct:

Yoda is Lucas' mouthpiece in the Prequels, his self-insert.

George Lucas' narrative frames Yoda as objectively right.

So when Karen Traviss questions the Jedi, particularly Yoda's character and wisdom, she's disagreeing with George Lucas' thesis.

Which is fair. Traviss, is a different person than Lucas, she's an ex-journalist with a more "grey" view of the world and a different philosophy re: fiction aimed at children. "Death of the author" and all that. Again, fair enough.

And if you like Travis' interpretation and philosophy more than George's, if her read resonates with you more... also fair enough.

But the EU is not a reliable source on Lucas' vision.

I've talked about this in MUCH more detail here, but if you do care about George Lucas' vision, then maybe don't draw from the Expanded Universe, which includes content written by authors who expressly disagree with him, like Traviss.

Sounds logical, but for some reason people will read the above-posted Dooku quote and treat it as reflective of Lucas' vision, when it's not the case.

George Lucas' Dooku doesn't have an issue with Yoda or the Jedi (at least not openly, as Darth Tyranus, the Sith Lord he wants them all dead). Dooku's issue is with the Senate and the Republic.

George Lucas specifically added that most Jedi share Dooku's concerns. Before he's revealed to be a mass-murdering, Sith who enslaves neutral systems, the Jedi think he makes a good point and are even reluctant to consider him a murder suspect.

But let's not start saying that Lucas' Prequels are meant to be about "the Jedi's failure" and "Dooku being right that the Jedi are corrupt.

Because that's not the case.

If that's how you see them, great. It's certainly how Traviss saw them. To each their own, authorial intent be damned.

But it's not what they were about, to Lucas. Stating the contrary is... I dunno, lying? Rewriting history?

It's as if I got hired to write a Lord of the Rings prequel seen from Gandalf's POV. And y'know what, maybe I don't like Gandalf. So I write him as a scheming asshole going “myahahahah, fuck hobbits! I’m gonna let them keep the One Ring so a bunch Nazgûl will swoop through the Shire and murder them!” and suddenly, everyone starts writing posts about the notion that “Growing up is realizing that Tolkien always intended for Gandalf to be the secret villain of LOTR!” as if that had always been the case and I didn't just reframe him that way retroactively.

Finally, I'd also encourage you to read @rendar-writes' well-made point here about the fact that, while claiming she "doesn't give the answers", Traviss nonetheless shows a clear anti-Jedi bias.

#There’s a difference between interpreting the story the way you want to #and saying that your interpretation’s is what the author originally intended to convey #star wars #george lucas #karen traviss #anakin skywalker #jedi order #dooku #meta #collection of quotes #lucas quotes #expanded universe

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

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Eddie's Kissing Lesson #3: It's way more than kissing now

(Lesson 1 | Lesson 2 | AO3)

A few years ago, Eddie made a habit of driving to Indianapolis. Inevitably, he ended the trips at a club or a bar. The visits were usually solo affairs, though not always; sometimes Donnie or Zac (the only ones in Hellfire who looked old enough to get past the bouncers) or Callie (who didn't look old enough, but who could charm her way in), would tag along. If they did, they'd go to a straight club. If he was by himself, he'd roll a die between a straight or a gay one. No matter the kind, he'd be approached at least twice every night. Beautiful strangers with appreciative eyes, a drink in hand and a line ready on their lips.

Eddie would accept the drink, flirt for a second, then tell them he 'wasn't interested, but thanks anyway'.

It was half true – he was interested (fuck, was he interested), but also… not. He'd never say it out loud, but even at his horniest there was something in his way. A roadblock. Because the thing was, intimacy required, as one might suspect, intimacy. Although, one night stands walked hand in hand with alluring anonymity. Like being watched without risking being seen.

Eddie liked that, most of the time. Liked shrouding himself in a mystery. But when it came to sex, he wasn't so certain. Something instinctual told him it wouldn't be truly good unless it was real. For it to be real, walls would have to come down. Leave an unobstructed field of view for wide-open eyes. Terrifying and exhilarating; he wanted it so bad, but he couldn't (wouldn't) have it with just anyone.

It had to be special.

So, he accepted the drinks, flirted for a second, and sent the beautiful strangers on their way.

Steve writes with a rhythm. It goes tap-tap-tap-tap with the pencil on the pad while he thinks, followed by scritching, before he pauses to tap-tap-tap some more.

It's strangely endearing, not to mention relaxing. You'd expect a guy like him to be rough, leave imprints on the papers underneath and constantly break the point, but no. His large hand is soft as it writes. Eddie could fall asleep to it. A shame they're too busy to sleep.

Star Trek IV came out a week ago and the kids, Dustin especially, have been obsessed ever since. The moment they stepped out of the theater, the little twerp turned to Eddie and begged for a science fiction-themed campaign. And because he's a chump who can't say no to the kids nowadays, Eddie agreed – to a one-shot, not an entire campaign.

(Also, he's already been crafting a solar system for a potential space exploration-campaign on the down low. Why not finish and use it?)

And because Eddie Munson doesn't do half-measures in these circumstances, he spent the next week worldbuilding and polishing his new universe. At one point, as he put the finishing touches on the water planet's cuisine, Steve peeked over his shoulder and asked about sports. Eyebrow raised, Eddie said 'what about sports'. And that's when Steve snottily pointed out that Eddie had developed everything about these space cultures except for the sports, which didn't make any sense – sports was a huge part of every culture, whether Eddie liked it or not.

So! Because Eddie Munson does not do half-measures… he's currently creating extraterrestrial sports games in Steve's kitchen. Although, right now Steve's doing most of the work. After Eddie came up with the base concepts, Steve stepped in to use earth sports as inspiration for the technical aspects: rules, scoring, player positions, player numbers, playing fields, seasons (which ties in with the climate of each planet), and so on.

If he's being honest, he'll never use most of this. God knows the kids (except maybe Lucas, but he wouldn't bring it up) wouldn't notice or care about the absence of sports. But. Turn down an opportunity to hang out with Steve? Never. Also, deciding how much of real baseball should inspire their thinly veiled version of space baseball (spaceball) is kind of fun? What's a penalty and what isn't is just exciting when you throw anti-gravity into the mix.

Most importantly, it's nice seeing Steve be in his element. Dude is so fucking knowledgeable about this. Hearing him say that this will score x points because of that reason, confidence dripping from every syllable, has Eddie's tailbone tingling.

Would it be rude to swipe their notes off the island and jump onto it, offering himself like a buffet?

He knows he's allowed. Or, he knows that Steve wouldn't mind if he asked for a break, even if it was to make out. They've made a habit of sucking face when it's just them and there's nothing else to do (or when there are things to do, but they're easily ignored). Question is if he truly wants to interrupt those soothing pencil scritches and put an end to Steve's surprisingly sexy thinking face. He's got a little furrow between his eyebrows while chewing on his bottom lip, and every so often he'll mutter hoarsely under his breath. The fact that he's being so serious about doing this for the campaign, for the kids, for Eddie, is…

'Unreal' is what Eddie would've said nine months ago. Now he knows it's entirely in character. It's still noteworthy enough for him to memorize every detail of this moment. The King creating nerdy sports with the Freak is a picture that must be immortalized.

He doesn't realize how hard he's been staring until Steve looks up from their work, raising his brows in a silent 'what is it?'

Eddie shakes his head, warmth creeping over his cheeks. He pushes off the kitchen island and turns away to hide it. The sink is conveniently right there, so he grabs a glass out of the cupboard and fills it as excuse.

Behind him, the pencil hits the pad, rolling across the paper. Steve's footsteps are deliberately loud, telegraphing his advance over the surge of running water. Eddie fills the glass, drinks it in one gulp, and puts it on the counter. When he turns, heart thudding, Steve is standing inches in front of him. Steve leans forward, bracing his hands against the counter on either side of Eddie's waist. Boxing him in, but not trapping him.

"Did you want something?" Steve asks.

Eddie crosses his arms casually and shrugs. "Not really."

"Huh. It seemed like you wanted something."

"I was admiring your dedication to the campaign. It warms even this barren heart that you'll partake in nerdestry for the sake of the children."

"Oh, okay," Steve says and doesn't move; his hands remain on the counter and his face stays inches away. His eyes shine like suns, hot and intense. Eddie meets his gaze, face schooled into something calm. At least, he hopes – years of DMing have taught him how to regulate his expressions, but there's a big difference between DnD and this.

"Did you want something?" he asks to fill the silence and – yes! – his voice didn't tremble.

Steve grins. "Now that you say it, I did."

And with that, Steve kisses him.

The initial second, Eddie's brain shuts off, as it always does. It's simply too much too fast and all he can register is Steve Steve Steve. His taste, his scent, his firmness as he presses against Eddie and backs him into the kitchen cupboards.

But only the initial second. After that, he's back on, and that means he's on. Loping his arms around Steve's neck, Eddie tilts his head at the perfect angle until their mouths fit together just so and licks the inside of Steve's mouth. His hands delve into product-stiff locks and tug the way Steve likes it. Steve moans, slumping against Eddie. Eddie giggles into the kiss. He fucking loves knowing Steve better than his own back pocket, loves coaxing these reactions out of him, loves when he melts and leans his weight on Eddie.

It could be better only if they were horizontal and on a bed, or couch, or the fucking floor, and he'd get to feel the hair on Steve's chest and legs, the jut of his hipbone, and his evenly distributed weight. He so badly wants to know how heavy Steve is. He wants to be fucking crushed underneath him.

Maybe he could if he asked. Or maybe that'd be too much. The only time they've gone past second base is during the spontaneous blowjob he still can't fathom happened. Since then, their hands and mouths have stayed strictly above the waist. Eddie, though he's dying to blow Steve, is not going to complain or rush. Steve's the teacher here; he decides the curriculum.

All Eddie can do is show off the results of his rigorous practice. Today, it's by slotting their faces together like a pro and perfectly executing that tongue-sucking move Steve seems to love having done to him as much as he loves doing it to others. It brings a guttural noise out of Steve; he grabs Eddie's ass with both hands and yanks him closer. Eddie nearly loses his balance and must cling to Steve's neck to stay upright. Laughter rumbles within Steve's chest as he steadies him and rolls their hips together. The neck of his shirt bunches in Eddie's vice-like grip. They're as close as during that first kiss, no room for Jesus' finest hair between them. Eddie feels Steve's heartbeat, which means Steve can feel his, and the combined thud-thud-thuddings have his knees shaking.

Steve's hands round Eddie's hips and tug at his belt buckle. Eddie jerks back, breaking the kiss; a string of saliva still connects their mouths. Steve's eyes are enormous, more black than hazel. There's a question in them, a plea for permission.

Eddie nods and doesn't look as Steve opens Eddie's jeans and pushes them down his thighs. His face is on fucking fire. You could fry eggs on his cheeks. Which is a little debilitating. This is never how it goes in his fantasies – he's a lot suaver in those. Quicker on the ball, so to speak. On top of things, one could even say. But not here. Because here's an unfortunate fact about sex:

It's embarrassing.

Exciting and sexy and fun, obviously. But also embarrassing. It was the same during the blowie. The moment his pants were coming off and his dick popped out, Eddie was more inclined to run away than anything else. Hopefully, the feeling will fade as he gets used to it. These hopes are supported by how at ease Steve is, going from de-pantsing Eddie to unbuttoning his own jeans like it's nothing, second nature.

Eddie couldn't look away from that if he wanted to. Why would he want to? Steve's dick is a sight to behold. It's the eighth wonder of the world. Worthy of worship, of a dozen temples and daily sacrifices. It's long and thick, smooth and symmetrical, flushed at the tip and with a bead of precome already pooling in the slit.

It's pretty. And it's hard. It's hard for Eddie.

"Hey." Steve cups Eddie's face, tilting his head up (as well as bringing to his attention that his mouth's been hanging open like a fool; Eddie's teeth clack when he shuts it). "Is this okay?"

Eddie nods, breathing harshly through his nose. "Okay. So okay."

Steve smiles like Eddie just did him a favor. Eddie could – would – analyze that a little closer, except Steve lines up their cocks so that they rest against the broad expanse of his palm, rest against each other, and-

That's another guy's hand on Eddie's dick. It's another guy's dick on his dick. Steve's. Steve Harrington's dick. Next to Eddie’s.

Hoooooooooly shit.

It's happening right in front of him, and he's still having a hard time believing it. But it's real; it has to be real. Imaginarily gifted as he might be, not even he could daydream this into existence. Like, the way Steve's fingers curve around their cocks as he squeezes and strokes? The scratchy calluses on his fingertips? The ever-present chill of the Harrington mansion? How Eddie's testes keep catching on Steve's shaft, rising and rubbing against the dry skin? Steve's softly labored breaths? The edge of the fucking countertop digging into Eddie's lower back?

That's real. Uncomfortably and amazingly real.

Steve pauses to spit in his palm; Eddie whimpers out loud. When Steve resumes stroking it's just amazing, the glide so much easier now. It lets him go faster, put his hips into it and grind their pelvises together. Eddie keeps whimpering, these shamefully squeaky little ah-ah-ahs that he tries to swallow until Steve moans, hotly against the shell of his ear, that he sounds so pretty and sexy and "fuuuuuck, Eddie, wanna hear you like this every day."

He stops holding back then. Gets even louder when Steve noses along his jaw and sucks what'll surely become a mark at the underside of it.

The saliva has rubbed off but the glide is only improving, thanks to the precome dripping everywhere. Both are leaking, but Eddie especially – he's so fucking close. He tries to say it, but his skull is full of cotton and he can't form the words.

Steve must have some sixth orgasm sense, though, because he presses his lips to the scar on Eddie's cheek and mumbles, "So good, baby, you're doing so good, so perfect, wanna hear you come, wanna see your face, looked so pretty last time, almost made me cream my pants-"

Eddie screams. Head tossing back, lungs bursting, as he slouches against the counter. Most of all he'd like to sag to the floor and nap for an hour, he's that spent. But he can't – Steve hasn't come yet, and there's no way he'll go without again.

"Steve," he says. "Whaddya wan' m' to… C'n I…?"

The syllables slur together; he takes Steve's dick in his hand while licking his lips, hoping the point comes across. He just wants to make him come. 'How' doesn’t matter, as long as he's the one doing it.

Steve, thankfully understanding, puts Eddie's other hand on his cock, molding them tightly around the shaft, and rocks back and forth. Eddie almost whines a little since… well, he honestly has never before been so keen on having a cock in his mouth. Like, Steve towering over him, holding his head in place while fucking his throat? Yes and please, Jesus Christ, amen!

But this image is also pretty good: Steve's face inches away, pink with exertion and arousal, fringe plastered to his forehead, mouth kissed raw, and him thrusting wildly into Eddie's closed fists. Eddie's gaze darts between it and the throbbing cock in his hands. It's the second he's ever touched, after his own. It's a bit like jerking himself off, except a million times better, despite the kinda awkward angle.

Steve makes a noise, reedy and desperate. Eddie's eyes snap up just in time to see the climax wash over him, his mouth dropping into a perfect 'o' and his half-closed eyelids fluttering in pleasure. Ridiculous, beautiful, intoxicating; Eddie could become addicted to it.

Sighing, Steve lumbers forward to flop his head into the crook of Eddie's neck. Eddie drapes his arms over Steve's shoulders, probably smearing body fluids on his shirt. Neither says anything – they simply hold each other and breathe.

It's been a while since Eddie last was in Indianapolis. Been even longer since he visited a club. After some time, rejecting willing strangers and going home with bluer and bluer balls, no one to blame but his own fucking hangups, got old. Why waste the gas when he could just as well be getting no dates and not laid in Hawkins instead?

Except here he is, sweat sticking his shirt to his skin, hair frizzing around his ears, come drying under his nails. Standing with his dick hanging out in Steve Harrington's kitchen, with Steve Harrington in his arms.

He's sure he could've gotten this exact experience in a gay club bathroom years ago.

"Rather unhygienic doing this in the kitchen, hmm?" Eddie says.

Steve grunts, grossed out, but shrugs a shoulder. "I'll disinfect it."

Eddie giggles, and so does Steve, rubbing circles over the scar tissue on Eddie's hips. Burrows farther into Eddie's neck and makes no indication he'll move anytime soon.

Yeah, Eddie could've had this in a club. But he couldn't have had it with Steve in a club. Couldn't have felt this swoop in his stomach, like he's at the top of a roller-coaster, anywhere but here. Couldn't have felt this special.

You're ruining me, he thinks as he pets Steve's head.

Do you know that? he wonders when Steve ducks away, griping about what a pain it is to get semen out of hair. Squinting, Eddie asks how he figures. Steve blushes and laughs and doesn't reply, eyes glittering.

Can you see it?

------------------------------

Not tagging anyone except @piratefishmama because she's the reason this exists in the first place. Also, I'm pretty sure she's even more excited about this than I am, so. Here you go, girl. I hope you enjoy this very late continuation.

#remember when I said this part would be shorter than the second? it's seven words longer #I'll just never say anything ever again if it's ok with you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic: lesson/plan #my writing

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arcadekitten · 4 months

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With the new year on the horizon and 10 completed games under my belt, I thought it might be fun to go through some projects that didn't make the cut and I ended up shelving for one reason or another! (It's only like, 2 of 'em but still)

The first is a game about Theodore and Zapara. While Tricks N Treats was my first finished + published RPGmaker game, I originally started testing things out with RPGM shortly after Cemetery Mary's release. The following game was meant to take place in the CM universe.

It was my first time using RPGMaker & it shows. It was also being made in VXAce, hence why proportions are so different from all my current projects. VXace uses 32x32 tiles whereas MV + above use 48x48. Trying to work within these limitations was a bit tricky for me

The (gif) footage you see above is all that exists of the game now(I didn't even screen record LOL). Back when my old laptop kicked it the files for this game went with it and I never cared to back them up. I don't consider it a hard loss though as by that point I had already moved on to bigger more polished projects and I didn't see myself returning to it any time soon(or at all).

The plot of the game was that Theo woke up in the night to hear Zapara leaving their apartment. When he goes to look for and finds her, she seems to want to avoid going back to the apartment for reasons she won't share. By the end of the game she confesses that she had a really realistic nightmare and she's scared if she goes back it will come true. Theo reassures her that he would never let her nightmare happen in reality, and so the two go back together. In the morning, we see Crowven texting them. They're making plans to go out to a club, when Crowven asks if his cousin can come along--tying it into CM.

I think if I made this game, it would've been cute, and maybe I'll even do something with the premise for a larger game, but I don't see myself trying to start this as a solo project again.

The next game that was shelved from when I was learning Unity & Adventure Creator. Patrons had seen previews it! I started this game as a tool to help me learn the programs, and it got shelved when I felt it was no longer teaching me but instead adding weight to my back.

Unlike the previous game, this is a game I COULD see myself starting again--probably using the same method I'm using for WISHMAKER in RPGM. This game is called "Dreary Elaine", and it's a bit interesting!

(ignore the reference PNG of Elaine here HAHA) This game, like WISHMAKER, is a point-and-click adventure game, where you play as the titular Elaine as she delivers party invitations to her neighbors.

The thing that makes Dreary Elaine interesting is that it is actually an offshoot of my other work! Mary Anta is a character that exists in the fictional world of Noisrev. Dreary Elaine is Mary's favorite childhood book series. A fictional world within a fictional world!

As I said above, this is a game that has the potential to come back one day--I'm just not currently sure when. But exploring the Elaine-verse is something that always appeals to me and who knows! Maybe I'll represent it more in my work going forward.

I think that's all for now? I hope it was fun to read through and I'm excited to have more (finished) games and art for you soon! ❤️

#cemetery mary #?#theo #theodore #zapara #elaine #arcadekitten #arcadekitt3n #art #my art #cain

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punkflower11 · 10 months

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Choose Your Own Adventure: Miles Morales - Part 1

————

“You like him.”

“I really don’t.”

At this, Gwen gave him a look.

“Fine. Maybe I did, whatever. Look, can you just help me out?”

“You should ask him instead.” She told him.

“I don’t want to. That’s why I’m asking you.” Miles emphasized.

"Miles," She says, "Ask. Him." with that, Gwen stood, leaving Miles at the lunch table to go put her tray away. Rubbing at his temples, Miles remained at the table wallowing away in his own grave misfortune.

It was almost comedic when thinking of how the whole thing had come about, really. Fresh from the script of some cliche, over-the-top Hollywood film Miles' current predicament was truly as testament to the saying anything can happen.

Following the events of the latest multi-universal fiasco, Miles had finally returned to his (real) parents after suddenly disappearing for days with zero communication from either end. Never mind the fact that Miles had made it back relatively OK to his very much alive mother and father, it didn't excuse him seemingly dropping off the planet for several days, even if he had saved it.

So when his parents had confronted Miles' about where he'd been, his brain, panicked, had hastily supplied him with the response Girlfriend. From there, he was able to create an alibi about feeling hurt and upset and in his state of mind had decided to leave home temporarily and stay with his Girlfriend while his mental health recovered.

Did Miles feel guilty about emotionally manipulating his parents for a lesser punishment? Oh absolutely. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

In retrospect, it was foolish to think that he'd be able to get away with it cleanly. Now don't get him wrong, Miles was eternally grateful that his parents had been so supportive about it all. Just not as much when when lighthearted prodding from his dad of ‘You ought to bring them over for dinner sometime,’ eventually became more persistent gradually progressing to the point of shameless guilt tripping on the part of his Mom displayed by her subtle disappointment every time Miles showed up to dinner on without his fictional girlfriend. It was getting ridiculous.

Ultimately Miles had to given in and bite the bullet, no matter how hellish it might be; and as such bringing us back to his current dilemma.

Chasing after Gwen, Miles once again began pleading with her.

"Gwen, I'm begging you. I'm actually so screwed right now, it'll be a miracle if I make it to next week."

"If you don't want to ask Hobie then I'm sure Pav would be more than happy to help." She suggested, unmoved.

"It wouldn't work, Pav isn't subtle like that." Hobie even less.

"I'm sorry, Miles. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Leaving Miles to stew in his misery, Gwen rushed off to make her next class. Mulling over his options, Miles now sat alone in the virtually empty cafeteria. He could take Gwen's advice and ask Hobie for help anyways, or alternatively he could go ahead and ask Pavitr like Gwen had suggested; even though he wasn't too enthusiastic at the idea of pulling another person into the whole mess.

#choose your own adventure #across the spiderverse #ghostflower #punkflower #chaiflower #updates daily!#fake dating #polls

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formulauno98 · 11 months

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Once Upon a Time in Mexico | Chapter Nine

Three months on from the French Grand Prix, life was going more smoothly, until yet another hurdle appeared. With your Dad coming to watch a race, the pressure was on to impress this weekend.

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Some very mild smut

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is married in this alt-universe.

Three months had passed since your fateful meeting with the HR department and the Board and as promised, you and Toto had kept your relationship on a strictly need-to-know basis. Bar the interview with Christian, the media had not picked up on your relationship and it seemed as if ultimately no one really cared.

That being said, there were still only a few members of the team who knew the full truth as you had decided it just didn’t need to be addressed within the workplace. Time and time again you wished wholeheartedly that Lara wasn't one of them but thankfully she had dialled down the sassy comments. You still didn't quite trust her and you couldn't put your finger on why.

Since the French Grand Prix there had been several more races as well as the Summer break. You had taken this moment of peace and quiet to get to know Toto even better, away from the office, having travelled to Tuscany together for a short break at the beginning of the Summer. Things were going swimmingly and you were falling more and more in love by the day. Toto was keen for you to meet his two children and had suggested you take advantage of the impending end of the season to come to Austria and spend some time with them. You were apprehensive but hopeful that you would get along with them, although you weren’t holding your breath as they were teenagers at the end of the day.

During the shutdown, Toto had taken them on holiday to Costa Rica on an outdoorsy jungle adventure whilst you went to Portugal on a girl's trip. Those two weeks were the longest that you'd been apart since the beginning of your romance and you were happy to be right back at his side when racing returned.

Across the races that had transpired between France and Mexico, Mercedes had managed to claw back the points difference that had been lost and were now neck and neck with their arch rivals Red Bull. Toto was trying his best not to show it but you could tell that he was extremely stressed on behalf of the entire team and the manic energy flowing out of his veins was palpable by the time you touched down in Mexico City.

Fortunately, you had a distraction, your father was finally coming to a race weekend and you were looking forward to showing him what you did for a living. The only apprehension that you did have was the fact that you hadn't told any of your family about Toto, knowing that they would disapprove of the large age gap not to mention the fact that he was a divorcee with two children that you were still yet to meet. You hoped that you could keep your relationship under wraps in front of your father as successfully as you did with the team.

FRIDAY AM

One positive about Mexico City was that you and Toto were able to share a room without anyone from the team being aware of it. The way that the hotel was laid out, in various buildings around a compound, meant that you could easily get around without being spotted. This meant that you’d spent the last two nights in Toto’s rather impressive suite, cuddled up to your favourite man.

This particular morning you'd woken up to find the bed empty, guessing that your boyfriend had gone off to the gym as he often did in the morning. To kill some time you scrolled through your phone, grimacing at the barrage of emails that had already come in for the day. Just as you were about to scratch the surface of your inbox, the door opened to reveal a very sweaty-looking Toto.

“Y/N,” he said breathily, “You will never guess what I just saw.”

“I'm not sure if I've got the energy to guess right now,” you said, stretching and yawning as you sat up in bed.

“Well I was crossing the bridge from the gym back into our building and I saw Christian Horner walking out from the other section of the hotel,” he said excitedly, his demeanour much like a kid waking up on Christmas.

“Okay, I know you and Christian have a really special relationship but I'm not sure if that's that exciting,” you said, still half asleep and not thrilled with the idea of sharing a hotel with the nasty Red Bull team principal who had publicly outed your romance just a few months earlier, jeopardising your entire professional reputation.

“No no but don't you see?” said Toto, “Red Bull are not staying in this hotel. Why would he be here first thing in the morning?”

Now you understood why Toto was so excited, “Oh gosh,” you said, “I didn't think about that, weird.”

“Exactly,” said Toto with a wild look in his eye, “I'm going to ask at the front desk which other teams are staying here. I know Red Bull are on the other side of town but I think Ferrari are here.”

“Damn, I can't believe you of all people found some juicy gossip,” you said, now fully sat up and awake.

“I know,” said Toto, crossing the room to lean down and kiss you.

“Ew, Toto, you’re kind of sweaty,” you said, recoiling as he dripped on you.

“Well then I have to make you sweaty,” he said playfully.

Batting him away jokingly, you replied, “Should I be worried that you see one glimpse of Christian early in the morning and you're this horny?”

Toto laughed, “Maybe, I am actually going to go down to the reception and ask them now while it’s still quiet.”

“Sure knock yourself out, I'll be waiting for you here.” you said, bemused at his enthusiasm, “I might jump in the shower if you want to join me when you are back?”

“I would very much like that.” he replied, kissing you once more, “Right I will see you in five minutes.”

At that, he swiftly exited the room, on a mission to find out what was going on.

You couldn't help but laugh, Toto and Christian had a very strange and complicated relationship where they went from throwing relatively harmless schoolboy insults at each other to hitting below the belt as Christian had done at the French Grand Prix. Christian was an unpleasant character and wasn’t friendly with many of their counterparts, whereas Toto had a few more friends in the paddock. This meant that Toto typically took the high road and didn't retaliate but the French Grand Prix had shown Christian's true colours and he’d been looking for a way to retaliate for months.

Crossing the soft beige carpet of your suite to the bathroom you picked up the clothes that you'd strewn across the room last night as you'd made frantic love to Toto. You smiled as you picked up his crumpled white Mercedes shirt, thinking about how far you'd come in a relatively short time.

Having tidied, you’d barely made it into the shower when Toto returned, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Y/N, it’s me, can I come in?" he called out.

You laughed at his perpetual politeness, “Of course, it would be rude not to. How was your mission?”

“Successful,” he said with a smug grin as he stripped off his gym kit and joined you under the steamy water.

“Oh yeah?” you asked as you turned around to face him.

“Yes,” he said, so excited by his news he wasn't even distracted by the fact that you were fully naked and lathered up in the shower. “The woman at the front desk said it's only Mercedes and Ferrari staying here.”

“Ooh, that is juicy!” you said, “So he was either seeing someone from our team or someone from Ferrari at seven in the morning in their room?”

“Exactly,” said Toto, the wild look back in his eye, “And the best part is we know everyone who is staying here so we can figure it out.”

“Check you, Sherlock Holmes,” you said laughing, “What shall we do?”

Toto stepped behind you wrapping his arms around you and palming your breasts as if it would help him with his predicament, “I can think of a few things.” he said.

“You have a one-track mind, Mr Wolff,” you said, “I meant about this Christian situation.”

“I have some ideas,” he replied, continuing to caress your breasts absentmindedly, “I think maybe we invite the team out tonight. We conquer and divide, maybe you can ask Rosie as well. She seems to always be on our side?”

“It’s divide and conquer,” you said, creasing up as his attempt at an English idiom, “But if I ask Rosie, then George will know by extension and he's not great at keeping secrets or being discreet.”

“But he kept ours?” wagered Toto, “I guess you’re right, let's keep it to just us.”

“I reckon,” you said, “Besides, my Dad is coming. So I need to keep him entertained too.”

Toto's wandering hands stopped dead, “Oh shit, I had almost forgotten.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Kind of.” he said guiltily, “I hope he likes me.”

“How could he not?” you said, “And anyway as far as he is concerned, you’re just my boss.”

Toto’s hands began moving again, “Your boss who you let shower with you?”

“Oh yeah, do you not shower with our other colleagues?” you said with a smirk, grinding yourself back, pressing your ass against Toto’s growing semi.

“Can’t say I do,” said Toto, growling, his hands now roaming lower, towards your sweet spot. “Turn around,” he added commandingly.

As you turned, you leant up to meet his lips with yours, always a stretch due to your height difference.

“Mmm.” he said, “Let me soap you up. Get you all clean.”

“Always so diligent,” you said.

“It’s the job of a Team Principal,” he said dead seriously, squeezing shower gel into his large hands and starting to meticulously lather your behind.

“Oh, so you do this for everyone on the team?” you said with a smirk.

“Only the hot ones,” he said, working his hands up your back and around to your stomach.

“Oh, so Lewis too?” you said, laughing.

“You're such a nightmare,” he said, “I’ll have to teach you a lesson.” With that he bent down to kiss you once more, pushing his fully hard length into your stomach.

Just as you were starting to lose yourself in your lover’s arms, you were snapped out of the trance by a loud buzz.

“Fuck, what was that?” you said, as you jumped apart.

“I think it’s the door.” Toto said, stepping to one side, “I’ll go and check. God help whoever it is. Stay here.”

As Toto wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way out of the bathroom, you shut the water off and wrapped yourself in a large towel, padding over to where he’d left the door open just a crack.

“Rosie.” you could hear Toto saying, his tone surprised.

“Hi Toto, I am so sorry to bother you this early but I tried texting Y/N and heard nothing. There’s something you both need to see. I tried her room but figured she may be here with you but don’t worry, if not I can just show you.” Rosie rambled, clearly nervous.

“No, no come in, she’s just in the bathroom,” said Toto.

Guessing this was your cue to come out, you opened the door.

“Hey Rosie,” you said sheepishly, well aware of how it looked, with you and Toto wearing nothing but towels.

“I am so so sorry to have interrupted,” said Rosie awkwardly.

“It’s fine, we were just getting ready.” you said, “What’s up?”

Rosie sighed, “The press have got wind of you two, the Daily Mail has a photo of you kissing and they’re going to run it on Saturday.”

“Scheiße!” exclaimed Toto, sitting down on one of the lounge chairs in the living area of his suite.

“How do you know?” you asked Rosie, as you followed him through to the living area.

“We got a request for a comment from the journalist and I'm so sorry I only just picked it up because of the time difference,” said Rosie apologetically, as you paced up and down.

“Fuck, what are we going to do?” you said, stopping your pacing and turning to Toto.

“How should I know?” he replied, “You're the Director of Communications, that's why I hired you.”

“Touché,” you said “Well I think that what we should do is sit tight and see how this pans out. It might be a case that the story will be three-quarters of the way down the sidebar of shame and no one picks it up or thinks anything of it.”

“That's true,” said Rosie empathetically, “Sometimes these things don't take off in the sensational way that the journalists hope.”

“I certainly hope so.” said Toto, his tone serious, “But I know who will care about it.”

“Did they send the photo?” you asked Rosie.

“Yes, they did. Let me show you,” said Rosie, taking out her phone.

Glancing at Toto, you grimaced, wondering where this photo could have been taken. You hoped it hadn’t been in Tuscany as there was no denying it was a romantic holiday and you’d gotten carried away on your romantic picnics more than once.

“Here it is,” said Rosie, bending down to show Toto as he sat in his chair.

“Scheiße!” Toto exclaimed once again, “That was by the factory after we met with HR and the board.”

“Can I see?” you said moving closer.

“Sure,” Rosie replied, moving her phone across so that you could take a look.

Sure enough, it was blurry but it was undoubtedly you and Toto walking along the river bank after you had your meeting, cups of coffee in hand. To make matters worse, it wasn't just one photo, it was a series, one looking like you are deep in discussion, one with your hand on Toto’s chest and then the final one was him leaning down to kiss you.

You made a face at Rosie which she exchanged.

“Look it's obviously not great,” you said, “But honestly I think people don't care that much. Look at what happened after Christian tried to out us to Sky, no one cared. I just worry that the board will see this especially because it's near the workplace.”

“But do they know that it’s near the factory?” said Rosie, “It's not that obvious where that is if you don't know where it is. If that makes sense?”

“Robert will know,” interjected Toto, “I've taken him there for a coffee before.”

“Shit.” you said, “Although to the outside world, we're not wearing our uniforms it could just be any day.”

“That's true,” said Toto, “At least they can't say that we're bringing shame on the brand.”

“I'm so sorry guys,” said Rosie, standing back up and putting her phone away. “If there's anything I can do to help let me know. I’ll leave you alone now and again, I'm so sorry for coming to disturb you so early.”

Standing up from the chair, obviously feeling awkward about the fact he was only wearing a towel, Toto said kindly, “No, thank you, Rosie, I appreciate you coming to us. I'm sorry for not being so presentable this morning, I just got back from the gym.”

“Yes, thank you, Rosie, honestly it's good to have a heads up about things like this. At least we can start to think of a game plan,” you said kindly, “And again sorry that we're not quite ready.”

“Don't be silly,” said Rosie, “I'm just sorry that it was early and that I was the bearer of bad news.”

“It's okay, we'll figure something out,” you said as Rosie made her way back out of your suite. “Thanks again. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“See you later,” said Rosie as she closed the door behind her.

“Are we ever going to get a break?” Toto asked as he sat down on the bed still only wearing a towel.

“Unfortunately, I think not,” you said, “If it gets to the Board again obviously I will go, please don't jeopardise your life for me. You've worked so hard for so long to build this team up, it would be stupid to throw it all away just because of something silly.”

“It's not silly when it's you,” he said very seriously, looking you in the eyes, his dark eyes flashing intensely.

“You know what I mean,” you said, settling down beside him on the bed and putting an arm around his shoulder.

“The thing I don’t understand is how there are so many photos. Why would a paparazzi be at the factory on a random Monday?” Toto said, leaning into you.

“I agree, it is suspicious. I am going to ask around and see if someone will name the source,” you replied, trying to reassure him.

At that, he managed a small smile, “Thank you. Do you want to finish in the shower and I'll come in afterwards? I love you but I'm not really in the mood now.”

“Don't be silly, we can still go together. We don't have to fill every moment with sex. I'm happy to just have a shower with you,” you said.

Toto flopped his head down on your shoulder in agreement, “Sure let's do it.”

FRIDAY PM

Having wrapped a successful Free Practice, you were now back in Toto’s hotel room, frantically deciding a game plan for the evening’s dinner. The news story Rosie had rushed to tell you about was due to come out in the early hours as it was running on Saturday morning UK time, and you just hoped no one would see it while you were all out. On top of that, Toto was still insistent on going through with his madcap scheme to find out what Christian was doing in your hotel that morning.

The team had been surprised by your sudden insistence to go out last minute on a Friday night but seemed enthusiastic about going for tacos and margaritas. You’d managed to convince most of the team to come along and ulterior motives aside, it was always nice to build some team spirit.

Crazy schemes aside, you also had to contend with the fact that your Dad was coming to join you for drinks after dinner, having landed in Mexico City that afternoon.

“So, what do I say to him?” asked Toto as he buttoned up his blue linen shirt beside you in the bathroom.

You sighed, “Nothing, you’re my boss, that’s all he knows. Say boss things.”

“I don’t like it.” said Toto, “But I’ll play along.”

“Good.” you said, kissing him on the cheek, “I just know he’ll be dramatic about his little girl dating a big scary man and we don’t need more drama this weekend.”

“Big and scary?” said Toto, raising an eyebrow, “I’m not sure I am big or scary.”

“Have you seen yourself?” you asked.

“You know what I mean.” he said, “I hope the team doesn't feel weird that I’m coming tonight.”

“I think you have a complex about this.” You said, “They love it when you participate.”

“I doubt this,” said Toto, tightlipped and unconvinced.

———

The atmosphere in the restaurant was jovial, with the team in high spirits after a successful Free Practice. It was a good turn out and Lewis and George had even joined for the evening, much to the team’s pleasure. Toto had been correct in his assumptions that people would be thrown off that he was joining you but it wasn’t long before the margaritas were flowing and they began to let loose, not worried about what their boss would think.

You’d divided up, working the tables to make sure you spoke to everyone in the team, casually dropping the fact that you were sharing the hotel with Ferrari here and there, hoping that someone might talk. It wasn’t long before you struck gold, with Bella.

“It must be nice being in the same hotel for once, no?” you asked, knowing that her husband, Gio, worked for Ferrari.

“Yeah, it almost never happens!” she said brightly, “Who do I need to speak to for us to always stay together?”

You laughed, before trying to subtly dig some more, “I guess the travel department but Ferrari would have to agree too. I’m not averse to it personally, I’d rather see them around than the Red Bull lot.”

Bella nodded in agreement before dropping her voice, “Yeah but do you not know about Christian Horner?”

“Huh?” you asked, playing dumb, “What do you mean?”

Bella looked around as if scared someone would overhear her in the loud restaurant, “He’s seeing one of the PR girls at Ferrari, Gio saw them a few weeks ago and he must have been in our hotel last night. We saw him creeping out this morning.”

You tried your best to feign shock, “No way! Isn’t he married as well?”

“Yup.” said Bella, pulling a face, “Nice guy right?”

“Indeed.” you said, “His poor wife. Although, actually, scrap that, if I was married to him, I’d be encouraging him to go off and find someone else.”

Bella laughed, sipping her margarita once again, “Same to be honest. They’re all whispering about it at Ferrari. I think they’re worried he’s doing it for information.”

“Oh really?” you asked, trying to catch Toto’s eye to signal that you’d uncovered what he was looking for, “But what does this girl look like? I’m sure he’s just a horny old man.”

“That’s true, she’s much younger than him, pretty and a redhead, so just his type.”

“Oof,” you said, finally managing to catch Toto’s eyes and winking at him.

Never one to miss a trick, Bella whipped her head around to see who you were winking at. “I still swear he has a thing for you, you know.”

Playing coy, you laughed it off, “Nah, he’s just goofy.”

“You like that though,” said Bella cheekily.

“I do like him, but just as a colleague,” you said, “I’m glad he’s our boss and not that slimeball Christian.”

“Me and you both,” replied Bella.

Just as you raised your glass once more you clocked a familiar face coming into the restaurant, “Bella, you’ll have to excuse me, my Dad has just arrived!” you said excitedly, “I’ll just go and say hi and bring him around to say hello to everyone.”

“Ah lovely, I’m looking forward to it,” said Bella, turning to chat with her colleagues who were sitting on the other side of her.

Crossing the restaurant, you were nervous, your Dad had never visited you at work before and you weren’t sure what he’d make of your increasingly rowdy colleagues.

“Mi hija!” he exclaimed loudly as he spotted you making your way towards him.

“Papa!” you said, warmly embracing him. It had been a while since you’d seen your father, having only gone home for Christmas, “How was the flight?”

“Good thank you,” he said, “How are you? How was the free practice?”

“Good thanks, it went well. I’m excited for tomorrow and so excited you’re finally coming to a race.” you said, “Do you want to meet my colleagues?”

You’d spotted Toto immediately clocking your father and straightening his collar. You couldn’t help but smile, clearly meeting the parents was nerve-wracking at any stage in life.

“Sure,” replied your Dad with a wide grin, “I want to meet the famous Rosie.”

Smiling that he remembered your friend’s name, you clocked Rosie, lurking in the corner with George and a few other members of the press team. Making your way over you spied Toto getting up to come over and join you.

“Hey guys, there’s someone I’d like you all to meet, this is my Dad!” You said, “Dad, this is Rosie, George, Olivia and Emily.”

“Nice to meet you, we’ve heard so much about you!” said Rosie, immediately leaping up to say hello. George followed suit, shaking your Dad’s hand and exchanging pleasantries before a scared look in his eye told you that Toto was standing somewhere behind you.

“Hey Toto,” said George nervously, clearly not sure if your Dad knew about your relationship.

“Oh Dad, this is Toto, our boss,” you said, turning around to allow Toto to make his introduction.

“Hello, so lovely to meet you finally,” said Toto, flashing a grin as he shook your Dad’s hand, “Your daughter is a superstar.”

“Likewise,” your Dad said, clearly pleased by Toto’s words, “I know, you’re very lucky to have her.”

“Believe me I know it,” said Toto, looking over at you adoringly. “Can I get you a drink at all?”

“That would be great, I’ll come with you to the bar,” replied your Dad, slapping Toto on the shoulder, despite the fact he was a good foot shorter, “Mi hija, would you like anything?”

“Can I please have another piña colada?” you asked.

“Of course, can I get anyone else anything?” your Dad asked, turning back towards Rosie and crew.

“We’re good for the moment but thank you,” Rosie replied.

At that, you watched nervously as your Dad and Toto disappeared off towards the bar. Settling down beside Rosie and George, you checked that Olivia and Emily were deep in conversation before saying “Eek I’m nervous.”

“Does he know?” asked George.

“Nope, we decided it’s better to go with he’s just my boss for now.”

“Oooh.” said George, “Well you need to tell Toto to stop making googly eyes at you, he’s so obvious about it these days.”

“I think that will be the least of our problems after tomorrow,” you said furtively, glancing at Rosie.

“I’m sure it will be fine.” she replied kindly, “As we said, no one really cares.”

“Hmm,” you said unconvinced.

———

As the night went on, drinks were now freely flowing and you could see some of your colleagues were too far gone. The younger mechanics always pushed it too hard and you were worried they’d be hungover and grumpy for quali the next day.

Your Dad was deep in conversation with Rosie and George and you spied Toto leaning against the wall, chatting to the senior engineers. Making your way over, you gently tapped him on the arm.

“Hey Y/N, how are you? The guys were just saying how much they like your Dad,” said Toto.

“Aw that’s sweet, I think he’s loving it!” you said, looking over to where he was now dragging Rosie up to start dancing.

“I can see that,” replied Toto. “Do you think we should try and wrap things up?”

“That’s why I came over.” you said, “Shall I do our usual trick?”

“Good idea,” said Toto, winking at you as his companions looked blankly, “You’ll see,” he said, turning to them.

You smiled as you sauntered over to the bartender. Having booked the restaurant out entirely you could easily call it a night.

“Hey, I know this is unorthodox but do you think we could do a last call? I don’t want everyone to be hungover tomorrow,” you said.

“Sure,” said the bartender, “Although I think it might be too late.”

As if on cue, you spotted Mo falling over his chair as he tried to get up. Sighing, you replied, “Maybe.”

Rejoining Toto, who was now standing alone, checking his emails and looking grumpy, you discreetly whispered, “I have the juicy gossip by the way.”

He perked up immediately, “No one was cracking, who is it?”

“Good news, none of our lot.” you said smiling, “He’s knocking off one of the PR girls at Ferrari.”

“How did you find out?” he said, his eyes lit up.

“Bella,” you said with a smirk.

“This is good,” said Toto, “I can use this.”

“Jesus, you’re as bad as he is,” you said. “I’ll tell you everything later, yeah?”

“So you’re coming back to mine?” he said excitedly, just as the last call bell rang.

“Of course.” you said, “But we need to be careful with my Dad. And on that note, what were you talking about with him at the bar?”

“Just chatting,” said Toto, folding his arms smugly.

“Sure,” you said suspiciously.

———

Having rounded up the troops, the team were now merrily making their way back towards the hotel. Thankfully it was just a short walk and you were happy to see your Dad getting stuck in and chatting away to anyone who would listen.

Toto was walking ahead with Bono and Lewis, deep in conversation about the coming weekend so you rushed to catch up with your Dad.

“Hey stranger,” you said, looping your arm through his.

“How are you my love?” he asked, “Your colleagues are very nice.”

“I’m glad you like them, it’s my favourite part of the job.” you said, “They were all excited to meet you so I’m sure you’ll be spoiled all weekend.”

“Yes, George said I can sit in the garage.” your Dad said smugly, “And Toto, he’s quite something no?”

“Did he now?” you said laughing, “Well it’s actually my decision who sits in the garage as a guest so I’ll be having words with George. But yes Toto is lovely.”

“He is in love with you.” said your Dad, turning to you on a more serious note.

“Huh?” you asked, taken aback by his frank admission.

“He only has eyes for you.” he said, “When we were at the bar he kept glancing over at you. Trust me I know these things. You could do a lot worse mi hija.”

Feeling guilty that your Dad was right on the money you sighed, “Well then, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Your Dad smiled, “I knew it. Just be careful, he is a little old for you.”

Smiling, you replied, “I will be. He was so nervous to meet you.”

“I could tell,” your Dad replied, “He kept telling me how brilliant you were at the bar and that he hoped you would work together forever.”

You laughed, “How romantic.”

“I could tell what he really meant.” said your Dad dryly, “He will have to meet your mother though.”

“I know.” you said shyly, “I hope she likes him too.”

“Of course, she will. You look so happy mi hija, I haven’t seen you glowing like this in a long time.”

‘Thanks, Papa,” you said, kissing him on the cheek. “Just so you know, only a few of our colleagues know so please keep it quiet.

“Of course.” he replied, “It’s wise in the workplace.”

Having reached your hotel, it was time to say goodnight, “I will come and meet you in the morning and we can go to the track together?”

“Sounds good, sleep well and thank you again for inviting me,” he replied, grinning widely.

SATURDAY AM

Waking up on quali day, you were very content with how the following evening had gone. Toto had been thrilled by the fact that you’d confessed your relationship to your Dad and that he semi-had his blessing. Snuggling into Toto’s broad chest, you were so comfortable that you almost forgot the shitshow that was going to greet you when you checked your emails.

Leaning up to kiss Toto’s neck you could sense he was stirring awake.

“Morning,” you said, kissing him once more.

“Morning,” he replied sleepily, clutching you closer into his chest and kissing the top of your head.

Knowing that you had to face reality as quickly as possible like a band-aid being ripped off, you extracted yourself from Toto’s vice-like grip.

“No cuddles?” he said, now wide awake and put out.

“I need to check my emails,” you said, sitting bolt upright and reaching for your phone.

“Oh shit,” said Toto, rubbing his eyes.

“Indeed,” you said.

You didn’t have to look far to find the article, it was the top search result for Mercedes AMG Petronas this morning, the glaring headline reading “LOVE IN THE PADDOCK, MERCEDES TEAM BOSS TOTO WOLFF COSIES UP TO YOUNG COLLEAGUE.”

Groaning you scrolled down the article, they’d gone in heavy on the fact that Toto was two decades your senior and that he was your boss.

“What does it say?” asked Toto, sitting up in bed and putting on his glasses.

“The tone is not great,” you said, continuing to read. “But it’s not very long and mostly just the photos.”

“Okay, so what do we do?” Toto asked.

“I think we let it be, I’m sure it won’t go far,” you said, hoping you were correct.

“Fuck,” said Toto, now checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?

“Robert has put in a meeting.” he sighed, bringing his palm to his face.

“Shit, when?”

“After quali.”

It wasn’t often that Toto looked nervous but he was looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

“Look, like I said, if he gives you a hard time, I will go,” you said bluntly.

“I don’t want you to,” said Toto, equally as bluntly.

“He’ll push for it,” you said.

“I’ll push back.”

“I know you will,” you said, reaching across and putting your arm around Toto. “But like I said, don’t jeopardise this for me. It’s a job for me at the end of the day. You built this team, it is what it is thanks to you and I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if anything came in the way of that.”

Toto pondered silently, obviously mulling things over. “Let’s see.”

———

Unfortunately, as your colleagues had started to wake up, your phone had started to blow up with messages asking what was going on.

Omg, Y/N! I knew it. Hope you are okay, the Daily Mail is brutal.

It was Bella. Then came a message from Tom.

Sheesh Y/N, no wonder you’re always smiling these days. I expect a full juicy debrief asap.

Not having the energy to reply yet you turned your phone off, turning to Toto.

“Everyone is asking me what’s going on,” you said flatly.

Toto sighed, “Well maybe it’s time to come clean. I don’t like lies in the team.”

“I guess,” you said, laying your head on his chest.

“Look, I know that you still feel everybody's going to think that you're trying to sleep your way to the top,” said Toto, “But you've more than proven yourself at this point. No one can possibly think that. Just that you're crazy for going out with me.”

“I hope so,” you replied, “Stop saying that, people will think that you're the crazy one for going out with me.”

“As if,” Toto snorted, “They’ll be jealous of me.”

You rolled your eyes, “I doubt this highly.”

“Let’s wait and see,” said Toto, leaning over for a kiss, pinning you down in between his strong arms.

SATURDAY PM

Quali had gone even better than you had dared hope, with Lewis and George obtaining P1 and P2. Despite the sore heads from last night's shenanigans, drinks were flowing once more in the garage as the team celebrated the first front-row lockout of the season.

Nowhere to be seen, however, was your affable boss. Toto had slunk off to his office to take his meeting with Robert, barely raising a smile at your drivers’ valiant efforts. Now that your relationship was common knowledge, you felt in a way that a weight was off of your shoulders, however, now the pressure was on.

“Where’s Toto?” asked Rosie, as you stood nervously in the garage, not participating in the celebrations as you awaited his return.

“Long story,” you said.

Rosie looked a little shocked at your glum demeanour, “I hope everything is okay.”

“Thanks.” you said, “I’m going to head to my office for a bit, can you please keep an eye on my Dad?”

“Sure, no problem,” she said, looking concerned.

As you wove your way through the garage and down the paddock to your office you were a bundle of nerves. You loved your job almost as much as you loved Toto and it would kill you to give it up after the huge amount of work you’d put in over the last eighteen months. But in your heart, you knew you would never forgive yourself if Toto put his neck on the line for you as this was his team at the end of the day.

You grabbed an espresso before settling down at your desk in your office, desperately trying to distract yourself with your inbox. You could hear Toto murmuring next door but not loudly enough for you to pick out any words. Furiously typing a reply to an email, you heard his chair roll back and the door creak open.

A gentle knock on your door, “Y/N, I can hear you typing. Can I come in?”

“Sure,” you said, feeling awkward that he knew you had been trying to listen in.

Closing the door behind him, a serious-looking Toto crossed the space to sit on the sofa in your small office.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I was that loud,” you said, embarrassed.

“No, not at all, I like it, I always know you’re close by,” he said, folding his arms. “Look, Robert is not happy with me but I managed to talk him around.”

“Really?” you said, eyes bright.

“Don’t get too excited, there is a but. He asked that you stay out of the spotlight, so no more press conferences, no more TV, no more media appearances, no more attending sponsorship events on behalf of the team.”

“That’s the but?” you asked incredulously, “Honestly, I’m fine with that.”

Toto smiled, “I know. But I pushed back.”

“Why?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Because whether you believe it or not, you are a huge asset to the team. I told him that you will continue your day-to-day role, and the fact that you are my girlfriend is incidental. And that one day you’ll be my wife and he’ll have to get used to it.”

Your mouth fell open. Wife? “Well, thank you, and he was okay with that?”

“He has to be,” he said bluntly.

At that you hopped up, making your way around your desk to lean down and give him a lingering kiss, his large hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap.

“Toto!” you squealed, “This is my office!”

“I know, and I also know no one will be up here for at least the next ten minutes,” he said with a smirk, pulling your hips down closer to his, his hands creeping up your now untucked team shirt. Sighing, you gave in, kissing him back voraciously and running your hands through his hair.

With your luck, it was only inevitable that at that very moment, there was a knock on your door.

Leaping up, you straightened your shirt and Toto tried to fix his ruffled hair.

“Hello, Y/N, are you there?” It was Rosie.

“Hey Rosie, yes, sure come in,” you said.

As the door opened to reveal a startled-looking Rosie who had caught onto what she was interrupting, she stuttered, “I can come back later. I’m sorry…”

“No, don’t be silly, I was just leaving,” said Toto, getting up from the sofa and flashing a grin at your flustered colleague.

“Oh okay,” she said.

“See you later Toto,” you said.

“See you,” he replied, closing the door behind him.

“I am SO sorry.” said Rosie, “I need to stop interrupting you guys.”

You laughed, “Don’t worry, he was just updating me on the Daily Mail situation.”

Rosie looked sceptical, “Sure, sure. I just came up to check if everything was okay. You looked super sad in the garage. And before you panic, George is with your Dad.”

“Thanks, Rosie,” you said, “I was worrying, but it seems to have been for nothing.”

Appeased by your cheerful tone, Rosie replied, taking a seat on the sofa, “I’m glad to hear that, I knew Toto would handle it. He’s always been good at smoothing things over.”

“I hope so,” you said, gazing off into nowhere. “I guess I should head back down, and rescue George.”

“He’s fine, he’s loving the attention.” said Rosie, “You know what he’s like, a sixty-year-old man in a twenty-something-year-old body. They’re kindred spirits.”

You laughed, “That’s true.”

“I’m sorry again about this morning, when Toto opened the door in a towel I was mortified,” Rosie said, looking nervous.

“Oh gosh don’t worry, I think he was more embarrassed than you.” you said reassuringly, “And for the record, we genuinely were just getting ready.”

“Still embarrassing.” said Rosie, “Although for the record, damn, he’s in good shape. I always thought he would be but sheesh.”

Laughing, you replied, “He’s alright I guess. And you can talk, George with his washboard abs.”

“Let’s see how long they last into retirement,” said Rosie wistfully.

“Ooh things are that serious?” you asked.

“I hope so, he asked me about maybe getting engaged soon,” Rosie said, looking down at her feet.

“Oh my gosh, Rosie this is big!” you leapt up from your desk, “I knew it.”

Rosie looked pleased, “Let’s see.”

“Shall we head back down?” you asked, “I came up here to answer some urgent emails and managed to smash through them.”

“Sure,” said Rosie, standing up.

———

A few hours later, the team were wrapping for the evening in an attempt to get an early night ahead of the race. Your Dad had already gone back to his hotel to freshen up for dinner leaving you alone with Toto once again.

Wandering through the paddock you were conscious that rival teams were now aware of your relationship and you hoped they wouldn’t take too much notice. As you walked side by side you were suddenly greeted by a loud wolf whistle.

“Ooooh, look at the happy couple!” It was Christian Horner, looking smug as usual, swaggering up to you from within the Red Bull hospitality area.

“Good evening Christian,” said Toto frostily.

“Toto.” said Christian, nodding slightly, “Y/N. How’s wedded bliss? I heard you were getting frisky in the factory recently.”

Sensing Toto’s body clenching beside you, you tried to diffuse the situation in the only language that Christian would understand, sarcasm, “Yes, all day every day, right in the middle of the boardroom.”

“You’re a lucky bastard, Toto,” said Christian, “How does the phrase go, you’re only as old as the woman you feel?”

Toto looked livid, replying angrily, “Well I heard you’re fond of a little Italian.”

The blood draining from his face, Christian fought to compose himself before replying nonchalantly, “And?”

Toto’s eyes narrowed, “I’m not sure your wife would be thrilled by the news.”

Looking defeated, Christian threw his hands up before backing away, “You’re a sly bastard, I’ll give you that. Enjoy your evening.”

“And you,” you said through gritted teeth, Toto still raging beside you.

Making your way towards the car park you turned to Toto, “He really is a piece of shit.”

“One hundred per cent.” replied Toto, “I hate bowing down to his level but he went too far last time.”

Stroking Toto’s arm lightly you tried to calm him down, “Oh, you got him good this time. He’ll leave us alone now, I’m sure of it.”

Toto’s brow furrowed, he was unconvinced. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” you said confidently, “By the way, I’ve been trying to get to the bottom of who sold the photographs to the Daily Mail and every source is a dead end. I think it has to be someone at the factory.”

Toto’s eyebrows shot up, “At the factory.”

“Well yes,” you paused, explaining, “It’s not always a paparazzi who provide images to tabloids, sometimes they buy them from a private individual.”

“But who would do that?” asked Toto.

“I can think of someone,” you said.

“Lara?” he asked, on your wavelength.

“I think so. She’s been suspiciously nice to me recently,” you replied, having finally reached the car that would take you back to your hotel. Sliding into the back seat beside Toto, you turned to him, “How has she been with you?”

“The same as always,” mused Toto, covering your hand with his.

“I just don’t get her,” you said quietly, aware that the driver could hear every word.

“I know.” said Toto, “I will do some digging tomorrow if I have time.”

“Well it’s race day so don’t get too distracted,” you said. “We can find out next week when we’re back home.”

“True.” said Toto, “On that note, I wondered if you would like to come to mine for dinner on Wednesday next week?”

Surprised by his invitation as you were yet to go to his place in England, you replied, “Ooh yes, I’m curious.”

“It’s nothing special but I’d like to cook for you,” he said sweetly.

“I’d love that,” you said, looking at him lovingly, “And after you said that about your house in Monaco, I’m not sure if I believe you.”

Toto smirked, “No, the Monaco place is nicer. But this place is cosy.”

Already envisioning cuddling up on the sofa, you couldn’t wait.

SUNDAY PM

As usual, race day flew by at an alarming pace, with you feeling as if you’d barely sat down in the garage when the chequered flag was waving. It was a double podium finish with Lewis taking P1 and George P2, a success that meant Mercedes were now even with Red Bull as constructors.

The team were elated and Toto had rallied the team to meet in the garage post-race, your Dad included. He’d had the time of his life this weekend and fortunately for you, with your demanding schedule, the team had doted on him constantly.

Standing in the garage beside Toto, you could tell that there were once again some curious glances being shot towards you. As more of the team gathered, Toto made his way across to you, sidling up beside you and bending down to whisper in your ear, “I’m going to tell them.”

You turned to him surprised, “Are you sure, is it not kind of weird?”

“No, it will be fine trust me,” he said, winking at you and walking towards the bar.

“Gather around everybody, there are a few words I would like to say,” said Toto, immediately commanding the attention of the team, the chatter instantly dying down. “First of all, I want to congratulate each and every one of you for today’s incredible effort and the results. We are now equal with Red Bull in the Constructor’s Championship and have the possibility of overtaking them.” He paused as the team applauded and cheered, “I’d like to say a special thank you to Lewis and George for their drives today, as well as our engineers and technicians who worked so tirelessly to gain us these crucial tenths of a second.”

“Thanks guys!” interjected Lewis, who was standing on the edge of the garage, listening in.

“Yes, thank you, couldn’t have done it without you,” said George cheerfully.

Toto laughed, “And as always thank you to everybody else in the team who makes these weekends possible.” he paused before glancing over at you, “I am also sure that many of you may have seen the story in the press about Y/N and I. As we are a team, I do not want secrets and I wanted you all to know that it is true, we have been seeing each other romantically for quite some time now.”

Murmurs echoed around the garage as heads turned around to look at you. Shrinking back behind the hulking figure of Bono, you had never felt more embarrassed in your life, until Lewis broke the tension with a cheeky wolf whistle.

“Ooohhh, tell us something we don’t know boss,” he said with a glint in his eye. “Just make sure you invite us all to the wedding yeah?”

Toto blushed and continued, “I just wanted you all to know straight from the horse’s mouth… is that the right phrase?” he looked at you pleadingly.

“Yes.” you said laughing, “For once.”

The team broke into laughter as your boss often confused English phrases and you always ended up correcting him.

“Thank you. Anyway, now that is out in the open, I hope you will join us in celebrating this weekend tomorrow evening at the factory.” Toto was beaming, clearly relieved to have got the news off of his chest, “Again, thank you to every one of you, this weekend has been good.”

Applause followed before the team started to mill about, some staying to pack up and others rushing off to the airport to make their flight. Fortunately, you would be taking the jet a little later so had no need to run yet.

Making his way towards you, Toto was smiling widely, his dimples out in full force. “Well that was easy,” he said.

“Worst kept secret in the paddock if you ask me,” said Bono, turning to you both, “Joking aside, I’m happy for you both.”

“Thank you, Bono,” you replied, wrapping your arm around him, “I’m happy too.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the engineer said, “Toto, this girl is special, you’re a lucky guy.”

“Believe me, I know,” said Toto, beaming down at you.

Through the throng of people your Dad emerged, walking straight up to Toto and slapping his hand on his shoulder, “Well that was interesting, young man.” he said.

Toto looked a little embarrassed, “I hope you didn’t mind.”

“Not at all,” said your Dad, “If Y/N is happy, I’m happy. But you do need to come and meet my wife soon.”

“Dad…” you shot daggers at him, not wanting to make Toto uncomfortable.

“It would be a pleasure,” replied Toto. “Y/N is coming to Austria during the Winter break to meet my family so maybe we can come then too.”

“Perfect,” said your Dad, clapping his hands together and turning to you, “Your mother will be thrilled.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but hope that this meant Toto was serious about your relationship. The casual comments about becoming his wife and the declarations of love pointed that way but you didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“Great,” you replied, “We’ll come in December sometime then.”

“Check with your Mother though!” said your Dad, backtracking slightly.

“Always,” you said with a wink, knowing full well that she ran things in the house.

“Right, well I think we had better head off no?” said Toto, conscious that you had a plane to catch.

“Indeed, you said,” leaning towards your Dad to say goodbye and thank him for coming. It had been a great weekend all around, both professionally and personally. As he bid farewell to Toto you had a newfound respect for your charismatic boyfriend. Your father was not an easy man to win over and he’d done it in a matter of minutes.

In the hubbub of the garage, what you failed to notice was the same pair of eyes that had watched you on and Toto the river bank, this time angry.

#formula one x reader #toto wolff fanfic #f1 x reader #fanf1ction #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #f1 fanfic

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queer-reader-07 · 2 months

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op could you elaborate on the she/her muriel thing. because i totally get what you mean but i find it so hard to articulate why... its just like. mmmmm. canon they/them character. but you wont respect their prns. but then again i enjoy when people get genderwierd w the ineffable spouses. would you respect my prns if you cant even respect a fictional character. is that the same thing. idk.

hi anon! i'll try best to elaborate, but apologies in advance if it comes off a bit... intense?

to give some context to my words:

i am nonbinary

i am afab

my pronouns are they/them

most everyone with the exception of close friends and people on the internet misgender me with she/her pronouns because they perceive me as a woman.

i think the root of it for me is that muriel has no experience interacting with earth, let alone humans, before they're sent down to be Inspector Constable. and because they have no experience with humans, they most definitely have very little context for the human construct that is gender. muriel's pronouns are they/them because those are the default gender neutral pronouns in english. muriel (like the other angels and demons) is referred to with they/them pronouns because, for all intents and purposes, they don't have gender.

whereas aziraphale and crowley (and even gabriel to a certain extent) have interfaced with humanity enough to have developed some level of understanding regarding gender, and possibly even an understanding of what they want their gender to be/be perceived as.

additionally, crowley and aziraphale play with gender in a way that feels very intentional to me.

crowley has canonically, in the show, presented femme. meta writers far more skilled than me have examined how, during the crucifixion scene, crowley is very obviously dressed more like the women in the background than the men. and it's not just in the historical flashbacks that we see crowley's genderfuckery. his modern look is comprised of a combination of femme and masc pieces. he wears a woman's cut waistcoat and his "11 years ago" look features women's sunglasses. all while inhabiting a decidedly man-shaped body.

i'm also just going to remind the audience that crowley outright denies being "a lad" in season 2. he straight up told us he's not A Dude.

aziraphale's genderfuckery is definitely less obvious and some might say debatable. that being said, i would make the argument that aziraphale's tendency to dress and present in a way that results in him being almost universally perceived as not only A Gay Man, but an effeminate gay man at that, is a quintessential example of gender as performance. and i do believe that aziraphale is making a very conscious and deliberate choice to present as a gay man. for fuck's sake he calls himself THE Southern Pansy, he knows what he's doing.

also, i know it didn't actually happen, but we almost got both of them presenting femme in the 60s so like. there's that too.

so, to me, it's ok to fuck around with crowley and aziraphale's genders in fanfic and art and the like because they do so canonically. the book makes it very clear that they are "man-shaped" but not necessarily men, ie they have chosen bodies that are perceived as being A Gender but that doesn't mean they technically are.

whereas muriel does not. muriel doesn't have a concept of gender because they haven't been on earth or around humans long enough to develop one. they are only ever referred to with gender neutral language. so it just feels really gross to me when people choose to she/her them. because to me it feels like saying "well this body that appears woman-shaped to me must mean they are a woman" which is a sentiment i, unfortunately, know all too well.

muriel is a character that is canonically referred to with they/them pronouns, on a major TV show on a major streaming platform no less. so it really fucking sucks to see people disregard that because they "can't remember to they/them muriel" or because they "seem like they use she/her."

to put it bluntly, every single argument i've ever read in favor of she/her-ing muriel has boiled down to "i just can't be bothered to remember they use they/them" and if you can't use a fictional characters pronouns correctly then i have zero faith you can use a real person's pronouns correctly. all i hear when i read those arguments is "i can't be fucked to do the bare minimum of gendering trans people correctly."

and lastly, i know it's genderfuckery when people she/her aziraphale and crowley because they're "man shaped" in the book and played by male actors in the show. but i don't have much faith that it's genderfuckery when people she/her muriel because i can almost guarentee it happens for no other reason than the fact that Quelin Sepulveda is a woman.

#wow that got long really fast #i hope this provided some amount of insight and wasn't too confusing #asks #my asks #answered asks #good omens #muriel #muriel good omens #kind of good omens meta

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gaylordscooter · 10 days

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Log of the Multiverse: Cross and XChara

Cross and XChara (usually referred to as just "Chara") both hail from Xtale, an au that's fallen into ruin ever since the creator, XGaster, was contained.

I was shocked to find out that the creator was one of the characters in their universe, but Ink told me he was a false creator, as he was merely a puppet to the true creator that lies beyond our realm and comprehension. It's like how a meta character in a piece of fiction can be written to act "aware", but it's still being written by somebody. Ain't that weird?

Don't think about that for too long.

So Xtale was kinda an empty void after XGaster was taken care of—that's the fault of Cross who killed like, all of his friends (but xpapyrus was the one who killed basically everyone else. GEEZ i couldn't imagine my brother killing a fly! hurting a fly definitely. but killing?? yeesh) and then absorbed xfrisk's soul because he thought he'd be able to OVERWRITE (<- a mechanic their world has where you can basically do whatever the hell you want, or something) his world turned out he couldn't do that sooo.

yeah he was NOT happy about losing his world (and somewhat playing a part in its downfall)

and also xchara's linked to frisk's soul for some reason. so he kinda just had xchara haunting him for awhile.

Luckily! Ink, Dream and I were able to help Cross cope through his loss!

It took so much time. like so much.

He eventually came to accept his world would never come back, but he got an idea. Since his universe couldn't be repaired to what it was before, why not create something new? Of course he couldn't create new people but after learning there were more people that have lost their homes like him (and me) he thought: why not make this place a safe haven for people like him?

Ink encouraged him. He was Very enthusiastic about it actually, he even helped with decorating the place (as in he painted every building. and all the scenery).

Of course, Cross isn't like Dream and Ink, who can sense negativity or when someone's world is destroyed, so those two tend to give him a heads up on where to go (or they just drop people off themselves)

At first we've just been calling it "Xtale" but obviously the place has changed drastically so we decided to call it something else.

unfortunately somehow all of us (even the ARTIST) weren't able to come up with that creative of a name and settled for calling it "the hub"

Now, I didn't forget about XChara, they were getting tired of having to haunt Cross all the time, so I decided to take up a little project.

And by me, I mean I asked Alphys (from a post-pacifist undertale au, we're buddies. yes i'm allowed to be friends with her because they're no longer following the game's script) to help me make a robot body. i made a prototype that ended up being completely non-functional. so alphys kindly made a complete one that WAS functional for me. even though i insisted she didn't need to do that but she said she enjoyed doing it and that i would've popped blood vessels i didn't have if i kept trying to make one (she's right. i was never that big of an engineer)

so the hard part was separating cross and chara. except it WASNT because their souls are WEIRD and i literally just wrenched their pieces apart like lego pieces it was crazy. unfortunately they still only have half of each of their souls. but hey, they can live just fine like that! they're just not as strong as they would be.

well, mainly in cross's case. chara has a cool robot body now that's loaded with defense.

So anyway, yeah! That's about it.

Pretty happy outcome for these guys, despite all the hardships of course.

But I heard from Ink, in this other multiverse this thing called the "X-Event" occurs. It sounded pretty rough from what I remember. But fortunately our Ink isn't like the one in that multiverse! He's too much of a softy

#blue's (totally not diary) log

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spicywhenspeaking · 3 months

Text

If I'm There: Chapter Twenty-One

when you realize the significance of the monkey (∩˃о˂∩)♡

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

word count: 3.6k , edited by me ....soooo if you see something spelt wrong no you didn't.

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens @thisbicc @laurpartyprogram @concretenoah @thebadchic @jessitpwk @madomens @samanthasgone @myownthoughts12

I picked up Erin from Ashely’s house at around 10 am the following morning. I don’t think anything will ever compare to her seeing me and running with excitement into my arms for a big hug. I just hope she still feels that way later today when I tell her about Noah.

“I missed you Mom!” she calls out and I pick her up and swing us around in a circle. “Oh my sweet girl, I missed you so much!” I tell her and kiss all over her cheeks and the top of her head. We finish gathering her things and thank Ashely and her mom again before we eventually get into the car and head off to begin our girls’ day. “So nails first or food? How are you feeling?” I ask as I turn on the radio and begin backing out of the driveway.

“FOOD! Please! We only had cereal for breakfast and you know I need more than that.” I laugh because I know exactly that. My girl can eat! “Okay, so first food and then nails!” I say, then reach over to turn up the radio when I hear “Dancing Queen” by ABBA come on. We sing our hearts out on the drive to our favorite breakfast spot near our house. We sit in our regular corner booth by the back window. I order a coffee and a full stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon. Erin orders an orange juice and the same amount of food and I know she’ll finish it all. She recaps me on the last two days and all the fun she had with her friend, “but I missed you and Hales a lot. I’m happy to be back home now.” she says stuffing a huge piece of pancake into her mouth. “I’m happy you’re home too little bug, but why don't you take smaller bites? I don’t need you choking thirty minutes after getting you back.” She smiles with her mouth full of food, “okay” her muffled voice comes out and I can’t help but laugh.

With breakfast finished the two of us head to the nail salon and I decide we should really pamper ourselves and we get the deluxe mani/pedi package. The salon I like plays old MTV music videos on big TVs all around the room. The sound of Paramore while my feet soak in the soothing heat and the massage chair digs into my back puts me into a state of complete relaxation and I find my mind wandering. Stuck on a moment from the night before, Noah and I sitting together on the couch and our almost kiss. If things were different, if we lived in an alternate universe and it wasn’t ten years later I would have closed the distance and would have let myself be sucked into his gravity. He has everything he wants now, his music, his band, it’s what he left to find ten years ago.

I look over at Eric who’s set the chair to the back-patting setting that has her voice bouncing “Ah, ah, ah, m-o-o-m, d-o-o-o I s-o-u-n-d w-e-i-r-d.” the smile that breaks across my face is full of love as I take in the beautiful girl in front of me. “You sound perfect baby,” I say and ruffle her hair softly. The rest of our appointment goes by in a relaxing daze. We laugh while Erin tells me about her last two days. We finish up and I mentally prepare myself for the conversation we are about to have. I am going to tell her about Noah. I just hope she doesn’t hate me afterward.

We get back to the house and she rushes into her room to unload her dirty clothes and reunite with the stuffed animals she had to leave behind. “Fluffy! I never want to be separated again!” I hear her exclaim from outside of her room. Before talking to her I head into my room and open my closet door, I’m looking for a certain shoe box. “Where the hell is it?” I ask myself, “Ah ha!” It’s nestled deep into the corner hiding under the Carhart hoodie I borrowed from Haylie who stole it from who knows. I take a deep breath and lift the lid of the box. On top are several photos of me and Noah, some of the two of us, and Nicholas as well. Wadded up in a tight ball is the Bring Me The Horizon shift Noah gave me all those years ago. There’s also a CD, some random ticket stubs, drawings, and more pictures at the bottom. I decide to just take the whole box and head towards Erin’s room.

Knocking on the door I hear a soft, “Come in!” I walk into her room and see that she’s decided today is the day she’s going to reorganize her bookshelf.

“Hey sweety, can I talk to you about something?” I ask and try to hide the nervousness in my voice. “Umm yeah, is everything okay? You sound weird.” So I didn’t do a great job at hiding it. “Yes, everything is okay. There’s just something that I need to talk to you about. Something important.”

Two lines appear between her eyebrows and her face contorts in confusion. “Is this an I can keep working and listening important or do I need to sit next to you on the bed?” she asks and I pat a spot next to me on the bed to wordlessly answer her question. “Oof, okay,” she whispers out and climbs next to me on her bed.

“You remember how I told you that I got pregnant when I was still in high school but my boyfriend and I had already broken up?” she continues looking at me with confusion all over her face but nods slightly, “Yeah, I remember. You said you two never saw each other again.” I take her hand and smile, trying to fight the tears in my eyes.

I open the box and hand her a picture of Noah and I. “His name is Noah. This is your father.” She takes the photo and looks back and forth between me and and younger version in the photo. “You look so different,” she says and I huff a laugh. “Yeah, that’s what growing up will do to you.”

“Where is he?” she asks quietly looking up at me. “Well, he’s actually in town for a few days if you would like to meet him.”

“Where has he been?” she asks and that takes me off guard. I struggle with what to say, not wanting to keep anything from her but also not wanting to upset her. “He’s been in Los Angeles. That’s where he works.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s in a band, playing music, and sings all around the world.”

“Hm,” she says and I’m not sure what she’s thinking.

“So he didn’t want me?” and there it is. The knife in my heart makes it hard to keep the food down from earlier but I push through, remaining strong.

“Oh no sweety, that’s not true at all. He didn’t know for so long. It’s very complicated adult stuff. Things that took me a long time to understand myself” I try to explain to her.

“Will you tell me when I’m older the complicated stuff?”

“Of course baby, I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know about him.”

“Is he nice?” Erin asks in a quiet shy voice, “Do you think he would like me?”

I wrap her up in my arms and squeeze her tightly, “he is very nice and he will like you very much I promise.” I run my hand down her head, soothing her soft brown hair.”Does that mean you’d like to meet him?”

The air is still in the room as Erin takes time to think. Her small face scrunched in concentration. “I think I would like to meet him, yes. But are things going to change? My friend Brody’s parents don’t live together and he goes to his dad’s house every other weekend. Do I have to do that now?” I pull her closer until my head is resting on top of hers. “Nothing will change without you making that decision. Right now, we take things one step at a time.” she nods her head and wraps her arms as tight as she can around me.

“Would you be interested in meeting him tomorrow? He will be leaving again soon with his band so we won’t see him again for a few weeks. I can tell him we can wait if you’d be more comfortable.” I’m also definitely scheduling an earlier therapy appointment for her this week. Her head remains buried in my side while she takes everything in. I am giving her all the time she needs to process, so if she wants to wait until he’s more available I don’t blame her.

“I think I would like to meet him. But what if you just invited him over here? So I can show him my stuff and maybe he will like me even more?”

I move back so I can take her small face into my hands. “I can do that but I need to to listen to me now, there is no one on this planet that could possibly not like you Erin Howlston and I know for a fact that he will love you so much because you are you and you are perfect,” I emphasize my point my giving her cheeks a little squeeze. “But you have to think that because you’re my mom.” she quips through pursed lips. “And he’s your father, so by your logic, he must also think that,” I argue back and I see her eyes turned down slightly in the corner.

“But he made you sad right? That’s why you broke up when you were in high school. I don’t want him to make you sad again.” My heart swells. While I drop an atomic bomb of information about her life she’s worried about my feelings. I must be doing something right with this whole parenting thing.

“Sweetie, that was a long time ago. My heart is all better now and I’m not sad anymore. I am so so so unbelievably happy with our life. With you and Aunt Haliey, Uncle Kyle and Aunt Mags, and little Natasha. I think Noah is a very good person and he wants to be in your life because he cares about you. Even without having met you.” She gives me a small smile and hugs me again.” okay, I want to meet him. You said tomorrow right?” she looks up at me with her deep brown eyes that have always been just like his. “Tomorrow it is. I will give him a call later today, but what do you want to do now? Play? We could watch a movie? Or draw together?”

Quickly detangling from my arms she races to pick up her paper and stretching pencils, “Drawing please! I need help with the cat I’m drawing.”

We spend the next few hours drawing together on her bedroom floor laughing and listening to music. For Christmas last year she asked for a Google Mini so she could ask it to play music whenever she wanted. Now we are listening to “The Very Best Of Otis Redding”. When she was a baby I listened to it all the time. I used to sing “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” while rocking her to sleep. Sometimes I walk by her room and she is listening to it while reading or playing with her toys and it reminds me of holding her when she was so little and how she would hold my finger so tightly.

I feel the tug of guilt in my gut about Noah having missed those moments but force it down, there’s nothing that can be done about the past but we can create new memories with the three of us together. Even if Noah and I aren’t together we can be the two parents that Erin needs. Maybe we can even be friends.

Later, once Erin wanted time alone to play with her toys I went into my room to call Noah. I haven’t been able to talk to Haylie about any of this yet, she woke up late with a hangover and had to run out of the house for the day to meet with her editor to talk about her next book release.

I close my door most of the way, only keeping a small sliver open in case Erin calls out for me. I sit on the edge of my bed and hit the green call button on my new Noah contact page, It rings a few times before I hear the sound of him picking up on the other end.

Hey! Natty, how are you doing? How’s it going?

Hi Noah, things are good. How are you?

There’s rustling in the background of his call, “oohh is that Natalie??” I hear who I think is Folio.

Yes, shush…not you Nat! You don’t have to shush. Sorry, Folio is being an idiot.

I’m good, just working on some new remixes for our deluxe album.

I just finished talking with Erin and she suggested I invite you over tomorrow to meet. Is that okay?

Tomorrow sounds great! What time is good for you two?

How does 12:30 work? I can order us sandwiches from the sub shop in town, Erin’s favorite.

Perfect, 12:30 is perfect. Thank you so much, Natty. I won’t let you down again. I promise.

I try not to blush like a preteen at the way his voice goes almost breathless as he makes his promise to me.

Um. so I’ll see you tomorrow then, bye!

I try to rush off the phone as fast as possible before I let myself word-vomit anything stupid.

Bye Natty, I’ll see you tomorrow, looking forward to seeing you and meeting Erin.

A few minutes I hear Haylie unlock the door and head into the house and she calls out like she did the night before. “Honeys!! I’m home!” she calls from the front room. “Hey Hales!” Erin and I both call out.

Before I have the chance to call down to her to come up so I can relay everything that’s happened since we separated after the concert, she is racing up the stairs taking two at a time. She swings my door open, stepping into my room with a huge face-splitting smile on her face. “Sooo?? How did it go?” she asks moving closer into my room and creating the same small gap in the door before sitting down next to me on the bed. “Well, before I drunkenly barged in. sorry about that. That Folio knows how to throw them back, he’s pretty hot don’t you think?”

She has this twinkle in her eye when she says it and I laugh and roll my eyes at her. “It went well, he was a little upset at first which I wasn’t surprised by. He cried I cried, it was very emotional. He wants to meet her and then stay in Austin during their break in between tour dates.” As I recant my mind whirls and everything hits me more than I expected. “He said that he wanted this life with me, wanted the family and the happiness and the love that he should have fought harder for me, should have never let me go.” I try to keep my voice steady but I can feel my throat getting thick with emotion. Haylie wraps her arm around me and remains quiet while I continue telling her all about what happened. “And then when I was showing him pictures in her baby book there was this moment..” I slowly trail off and she pops forward and her eyes widen in surprise.

“What kind of moment?” she asks in a voice that goes all jelly-like and I manage to look slightly shameful before I tell her. That I so easily folded in his presence is borderline embarrassing, just shows how powerful his hold is still over my heart. But right now I can’t think with my heart, now is the time to think with my brain. While also considering Erin’s heart.

“We might have almost kissed,” I tell her while I bury my face in my hands. “OH MY GOD! NATALIE !” she shrieks and I quickly throw my hands over her mouth. “Shush! Haliey oh my god, Erin will hear you!” and just like that I hear her little voice calling from down the hall, “everything okay in there?” she asks. “Yes!” “Everthing is fine!” we answer in unison and I think she retreats back into her room.

“You almost kissed him! How? What did he say? Did he lean in? How did he act after the almost kiss,” she shoots out the questions in a rapid-fire succession and I rub the sides of my temples before answering her. “Um. I guess he was kind of leaning in, he was doing that thing you know. When a guy looks between your eyes and your lips. I felt so weak. Oh my god, I almost kissed him, and then the book fell and I remembered what we were doing and why he was there and I felt so stupid.”

“You are NOT stupid! There were a lot of emotions flowing, you hadn’t had a moment alone with him in years and it’s not like when you broke up you two weren’t completely and totally in love with each other. It’s not like those feelings just go away.” she says while rubbing up and down along my back.

“I just can’t do that with him, It’s not a good idea for the two of us to do anything that could jepordize Erin’s happiness.” I nod to myself, wiping one of my hands down my face and then raking them through my hair. Haliey and I flop backwards onto the pillows while I finish catching her up on everything that happened, including my conversation with Erin and then my phone call with Noah right before she got home.

“You want me to clear out tomorrow so y’all have some privacy?” she asks and I balk at the thought. “No way! I would never ask you to leave your own house. Plus, you’re such an important person in Erin’s life, I’m sure she would also want you here.”

The three of us spend the rest of our evening lounging in the living room watching TV in our pajamas. We make homemade pizzas and cookies for dinner together in the kitchen while singing along to Disney’s greatest hits. We end the night all cuddled together on the couch watching Erin’s favorite movie “The Secret Life of Arrietty” and when she falls asleep I carry her up the stairs into her room and deposit her into her bed. I gently kiss her forehead and turn on her glowing nightlight before closing the door and heading back to help Haylie finish cleaning the kitchen.

The next day is quickly upon us and I nervously watch the clock ticking away as we get closer and closer to 12:30. I picked up the subs a few minutes ago so hopefully Noah isn’t late. No one likes a soggy sub.

Just seconds before the second-hand crosses over the 12 on the clock there is a knock on the door that causes me to jump straight out of my seat. Haylie laughs at me as she rubs my shoulders walking past and into her room. She told Erin that if she needed her at any time to just barge in and get her. I walk towards the door and Erin suddenly looks very nervous and gets up to hide behind my back. “Are you okay baby?” I ask her quietly before answering the door. She nods her head against my back and whispers, “Yes, I’m fine.” she gripping the back of my jeans but I think if she didn’t want to do this anymore she would say something, she’s just nervous. Hell, I’m nervous.

I open the door and Noah is standing there with a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand and a stuffed monkey in the other. “Hi,” he says in a soft and nervous voice. I return his greeting with a warm smile. “Come on in” I open the door wider so he can come in and Erin scoots along with me not quite ready to reveal herself. “How are you doing?” he asks and hands the flowers over to me, “these are for you.” He gestures to the monkey, “And this is for Erin.” she peaks her head out from behind me and looks up towards Noah and the monkey. “That’s for me?” she asks quietly. Noah crouches down to be at her eye level and hands out the toy to her. “Yes, this is for you. Do you like monkeys?” He asks and I see a small smile appear on her face. “I do like monkeys. I saw some at the zoo a few days ago with my friend Ashely.” She holds out her hand to accept the offering. “Hi Erin.” he says with a warm smile, “I’m Noah, it’s very nice to meet you?” She slowly eases out from behind me and is now standing beside me and at eye level with Noah, still crouched. “It’s nice to meet you too. Even though you made my mom sad.”

Oh, Jesus, this is going to be an interesting afternoon.

Next chapter

#noah sebastian #noahsebastian #Noah Sebastian smut #noah sebastian x ofc #Noah Sebastian angst #Noah Sebastian fluff #bad omens fluff #bad omen smut #bad omen fanfiction #bad omen fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens rpf #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fic #lf Im there noah #rpf fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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utilitycaster · 8 months

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Whoaaaa holy shit something just snapped into place reading you mention the concept of creating a shape of negative space bc i've been thinking so long abt the "unspoken things/quiet part" of characters. I've often had this feeling that fandom will go a million and nine yards to red string board an ocean of depth for their favorite blorbo over.... what comes down to what's technically extrapolating based off of xyz canon, but said canon will be like "this character fidgets once, half his dialogue is quoting an in-universe play he tries to recreate (by ruining ppl's lives), and he doesn't understand why someone wouldn't want to be called a monster, therefore he is AUTISTIC and that drives his logic," or "this character has xyz vague background and is TRAUMATIZED because of WAR" inventing an entire character and it's like. Oh boy. This might be a matter of not being invested enough in these characters to TRY and delve so "deep" but I keep thinking that none of this is actually. written or feels purposeful in the context of How Storytelling Works/the Narrative to MAKE me invest or think that it's worth doing so. I always wonder how many people are trying so hard to project a better story onto something without understanding that the story actually needs to BE THERE and ADDRESSED, even subtly, and token moments aren't enough. But then that gets me thinking about how Thereness needs to exist for something to be subtle but written as opposed to Conspiracy off loose projection.

I was kinda thinking abt Laudna and how to use her as an example, because she's one of those characters for whom like, yeah I as a person totally understand the cycle of being upbeat and normal and everything and then having a random spiral of Bad Upstairs before being normal again, but narratively how do you portray that and why does everyone do it so much better than her. With equal screentime, everyone feels like they have so much more meat to their motivations and psychology despite some being significantly less fraught backstory wise. What's happening here because things just feel like they come out of nowhere with her with "oh so that matters all of a sudden?"

Hi anon,

Yes to all of this! With regards to your first paragraph - I feel that a lot too. It's a tricky situation because I think it's completely valid to project things onto characters and imagine them to have specific qualities that either you have or simply that you wish to see in fiction. It only becomes difficult in a fandom sphere when people insist that this is a fully evidence-based endeavor and not a personal interpretation (especially because a lot of that evidence is, as you say, either very much open to interpretation, or else totally spurious. The number of times I've had to shoo people off my posts for talking extensively about how an immensely self-absorbed character who never thinks about others unless forced to clearly has ADHD...but I digress). And as for the conspiracy element, especially when works aren't as good - absolutely. If you haven't read this, which I reblogged a few weeks ago (has Good Omens 2 spoilers) I highly recommend you do because what you're saying resonates a lot with OP's post, both in terms of our need as fans to project or find similarities with characters, and the fact that when people are disappointed by a work sometimes they try to create a better one, but instead of just writing fanfiction and calling it fanfiction they go full conspiracy theorist and assume there's some secret twist, and fall so hard into that all-crumbs-no-schnitzel (to borrow a metaphor from that post) fanon echo chamber they forget it is, in fact, only fanon.

Which brings us to Laudna. Before I go deeper I want to cover three things. First: for me at least, this criticism comes because I know Marisha is capable of doing this negative space work. It didn't come up much with Keyleth since we kind of knew her whole deal very early (which, to be clear, is valid; not every character needs this), but it's present with both Beau (her relationship to her father is masterfully done; the hallmark of good negative space work is that when the reveal comes you say oh of course) and to a lesser extent Patia, who, like all the Calamity characters, conveys a story much greater than the one that unfolds over a single night. Second: I think part of why a number of us in the fandom are so frustrated is that we have been doing that work of generously interpreting Laudna since the beginning, but nothing ever sticks, so it's becoming less and less worth the effort.

I'd have to go back through my archives pretty extensively, but early on, the going expectation for Laudna was that she would explore the idea of being one of the bystanders in a larger story as someone killed simply because of a passing resemblance to someone the Briarwoods wished to send a message to; that we'd get insight into Whitestone during the occupation from someone who wasn't freed by Vox Machina but rather killed, indirectly, because of them. However, not only have we not gotten that, but she also was chosen for being special: Delilah chose her as a vessel because of her inherent sorcery. So then it was perhaps about that tension between finding power in her sorcery vs. warlock levels - Pâté seemed like a clear setup for Pact of the Chain, after all - but then Marisha admitted she had no intention of taking that third warlock level, and always just planned to play Laudna as exclusively leveling in sorcerer, until FCG attacked. And meanwhile, there's no exploration of those sorcery powers, either.

Speaking only for myself, I've been interrogating "hey, why is her backstory that she was chased out of everywhere but for the most part everyone is mostly fine with her?" and "in 30 years she did nothing about Delilah? Really?" for quite some time. There's a number of questions that are not just unanswered, but lack the hints that this negative space work would provide. And to be clear there are ways to explain those things! This meta does a good job of talking through why she may have been chased out, and I've floated, in the past, that even Delilah's unwelcome presence was better than the absolute silence of being truly alone. But the work to support these fandom theories, again, is not really being done at the table, and moreover, even if it starts being done...it's episode 70. It should have come up in some capacity.

Marisha said (to be clear, somewhat jokingly) in the 2022 ComicCon panel that "Yeah. I don't want to think anymore. I'm tired," re: Laudna but the thing is...honestly, in my opinion? A character with Laudna's premise requires far more work than Beau or Keyleth to do well. Not only is she tied into one of the most famous events and entwined with one of the most famous villains of Campaign 1, but she's got 50 years of backstory! Beau and Keyleth are in their early 20s! (I could make a whole other post about this but character intelligence does not equal how hard they are to play; Imogen is an immensely tough concept that Laura's doing a good job with and she's lower INT than Laudna. I'd rather play a wizard than a character like Grog any day of the week because I genuinely believe that the acting burden for making a character like Grog sympathetic and believable without going into cheap mockery and parody is immense).

Going back to that statement, it really does feel as though every 4-Sided Dive episode or panel, when Marisha talks about Laudna, it's always just that she was envisioned as being over her trauma, and the premise was always just "make that creepy girl from her nightmare". And even then: it's fine if she'd done that - simply made a creepy character who was here to be creepy and cheerfully macabre - but through gameplay it's become clear that Laudna is not over that trauma (her arrested development being one of many options), and has acquired new traumas to boot, and for that matter never was really over it given that she displays intensely but they come up so inconsistently that there's never any follow-through. I agree with you completely that the idea of her often seeming fine and happy and then having spirals is believable and true to life, but one does need to actually follow through on the spirals - I think a lot of us finally threw up our hands when Laudna's believable, well-played, and justifiable anger and resentment after being thrown across the world away from half the party, essentially pushed into a fight that isn't her own, being betrayed by Bor'Dor, and feeling Delilah's return melted away without resolution. If you want to make a character who's over their trauma and go-with-the-flow, I feel as though step 1 is to not have an eternal reminder of one's trauma permanently stuck in one's head. "Warlock who dislikes their patron" is actually a premise that requires quite a lot of thinking and effort, and we are consistently not seeing it.

I think what's most telling is that the defense of Laudna for the weird freakout this past episode is both vehement, and in conflict with itself. Is Marisha just making a joke (that didn't really land with anyone at the table nor much of the fandom, and was taken at least semi-seriously by both)? Or is it actually great and good that Laudna is incredibly traumatized and clingy and we should all hope she becomes even more clingy and codependent? When even the people who are shielding Laudna from even a whisper of criticism can't agree what Marisha's doing, it's pretty dire, especially when that criticism is "this character feels directionless and incoherent."

So getting back to negative space: It's my hunch that there just...wasn't a lot of clarity to Laudna's motivations, and the questions in her backstory weren't answered. She's creepy and she's kooky, Sun Tree corpse, Delilah in her head, met Imogen two years ago, was friends with a little girl at some point (which we only know from 4-Sided Dive, which is, to be clear, bad that it's never come up in-game). We don't know how she feels about her sorcery powers other than a vague enjoyment of their creepiness...but she also sees them as a way out from Delilah...but she also barely engages with Delilah and hasn't done anything to get rid of her. We have no sense of how she got to "the worst thing that's happened to me already happened" because while it's completely fair to play her as feeling that way 30 years later, I highly doubt she felt that way as she cut herself down from the Sun Tree. So as a result, it's hard to pick a direction because that foundation is lacking.

The thing about that negative space is that to do it well, you really need to know what you're trying to convey. Which is also why, as you say, characters with much simpler backstories are fine; Fearne was basically hanging out at her grandmother's place until EXU and her parents left when she was very young; she is curious about her parents and loves her grandmother and is a chaotic fey entity who was sent into the Material Plane with the Weave Lens, and mostly she just wants to explore and have fun and hang out with her friends. Ashley just needs to...play Fearne like that, which she does with aplomb. The complex setup for Laudna demands a huge number of answers in the backstory, and my guess is that Marisha does not have them. I think the problem isn't with the acting (in fact, I'm fairly confident it isn't, because, again, I know from past characters Marisha can do this); it's that Laudna's concept prioritized the aesthetic, mechanics, and facts of the backstory, and didn't adequately fill in her beliefs and motivations, so she's just flailing. I also suspect from the most recent 4-Sided Dive and the most recent SDCC panel that Marisha is specifically looking for interparty conflict, and to be clear that's valid...but again, to do that believably and well, Laudna's philosophy and motivations and characterization need to be much more clearly established than they are.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #long post #critical role spoilers

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