#somebody's got a case of the sundays

[mumblelard]

what would you say you do here

#i've got a meeting with the chia bobs in a couple of minutes #somebody's got a case of the sundays #spongebob #bob ross #rob boss #ram dass #end of message

[finisnihil]

Hello pookies let’s talk about Aventurine and Topaz

Penacony spoilers+Analysis ahead

Let’s start off the bat, I personally like Aventurine more than Topaz and the main reason is because Topaz willingly works for the IPC while Aventurine doesn’t. Some people have pointed out in other posts of mine that Topaz didn’t voluntarily join the IPC. Her planet was dying and the IPC bought it, she joined because it was required of her, but here’s the difference. She chooses to stay.

She emphasizes in her talking with Bronya and the Trailblazer than she doesn’t stay with the IPC just because she has to or because she needs a paycheck. She stays because she likes working for them.

Also, she sees what was done to her planet as a good thing. In her eyes, the IPC saved her planet, in her eyes it isn’t exploitation. She tries to force the same thing on Jarilo-VI to the point she attacks the Astral Express for trying to stop her after Bronya declined the contract. She felt entitled to Jarilo-VI and when she was told no she ignored it. To her, the IPC are the best. It’s no wonder either, as far as we know she hasn’t seen the truly ugly side of the IPC yet because the IPC need her. In her character stories other IPC constantly hype her up, she’s a prodigy, she makes the IPC more efficient. She raises the success rate from 63% to above 80%. Even in her early days we see her breaking rules and getting away with it because the IPC value her too much to lose her.

They don't even question her calculations. Adding to this, when Aventurine is first introduced, it's after she's punished for her actions on Jarilo-VI.

He gives a lot of context about Topaz's power in the IPC. She "dodged a bullet there", implying she theoretically should've got a stronger punishment than being demoted a rank and losing some bonuses she's mentioned she doesn't care about. He even mentions that somebody is "looking out for her". Topaz has backing. He also mentions Jarilo-VI was a high-risk low-reward situation and that her "kind heart" was a liability. Topaz has the room to take on such cases and exercise her "kind heart" because she isn't at risk of losing everything if she screws up. There's little consequences to her actions, there's powerful people protecting her, and the IPC need her. Topaz can leave at any time, she choses not to because she likes the IPC. You see this power dynamic in her character trailer.

A throne is strong imagery and she's surrounded by money, the real representation of power in the IPC.

So let's talk about Aventurine and why I think he's interesting and why I like him more than Topaz.

Let's start with his power dyanmic within the IPC, or more so, his lack of one.

Aventurine has a serial number on his neck and Dr Ratio specifically calls him a "thrall". The term thrall in this context seems to imply he's a captive of some sort of the IPC*, to them he's a product. We can feel his lack of power in the way people talk to him.

Sparkle speaks to him in a super derogratory way and belittles him by implying he had to humiliate himself to influence Sunday. Meanwhile Dr Ratio writes him off as ruining everything before he gets to really do anything.

He gets power by gambling for it. Power is fleeting and he can lose it easier than most.

At one point he talks about how much money he loses wasting ten minutes. Ten minutes is nothing for Topaz but to Aventurine it's lost money and if he's not making the IPC money he's useless and viable to be cast aside. He can't afford it because he has no power. Compared to Topaz, he can't leave. He has less room for screw ups.

Onto friendship.

When friendship comes up, he keeps the idea at a distance. He asks how friends benefit him. Sparkle says he treats friends like bargaining chips and when he's talking with Dr Ratio he says that "Friends are weapons of Avgins". To him, friends are used for or against you.

He doesn't have any real friends, he's always on his own. He has no backing. He can't trust anybody because he's in such a vulnerable state and everyone around him looks down on him because of his heritage. Dr Ratio even tells him he causes too much trouble to have freinds, likening him to a peacock with a jarring call.**

Finally I want to analyze this conversation between him and Topaz. When asking for her help, he calls her old friend, implying he's planning to use her. The thing about Aventurine is that compared to Topaz, he's more ruthless because he has to be, he doesn't have the wiggle room she does, even Black Swan notes this saying he'll go to extreme lengths to maintain an advantage. Right now, that's what he's doing because he's being thrown to Penacony as a sacrifice. For the reasons above he seems to be the most expendable Stoneheart. He notes Penacony is a lost cause and Topaz is shocked that the mission isn't given to a higher ranking Stoneheart. He eggs Topaz into being his project manager with the idea she'll recover what she lost on Jarilo-VI. What he's really doing is using her to shield himself. With her involvement the IPC will be less likely to cut their loses with him, because they need Topaz and if he puts his eggs in her basket to care for they're less likely to be left to break by the IPC. If things go wrong he takes the blame… unless he has Topaz to sofen the blow. He's gambling on her power in their dynamic.

*My personal theory as of 2.0 is that the Sigonians and Avgins had a war and the IPC backed the Avgins for a benefit of their victory, assuring it. Aventurine was a captive or some sort of "war prize" hence the serial number and Dr Ratio calling him a thrall. It also explains the negative view of Sigonians and the very favorable view of Avgins among other lore we've gotten about it. I may do a seperate post of this theory.

**Sparkle and Dr Ratio liken Aventurine to a peacock frequently. Male peacocks use their feathers to attract the attention of female peacocks. This matches Aventurine's very flamboyant and charismatic character and his place in the story.

Feel free to add discussion, have a great day, mwah!

#honkai star rail #Penacony #Penacony spoilers #aventurine #topaz #aventurine analysis #topaz analysis #aventurine theory #Aventurine has grown on me I will admit #He fascinates me #Finis Analyzes

[repunk76]

Rip Her to Shreds [Song by Blondie] Oh, you know her, would you look at that hair Yeah, you know her, check out those shoes She looks like she stepped out of the middle of somebody's blues She looks like the Sunday comics She thinks she's Brenda Starr Her nose job is real atomic All she needs is an old knife scar Yeah, she's so dull, come on rip her to shreds She's so dull, come on rip her to shreds Oh, you know her, "Miss Groupie Supreme" Yeah, you know her, "Vera Vogue" on parade Red eye shadow! Green mascara! Yuck! She's too much She looks like she don't know better A case of partial extreme Dressed in a Robert Hall sweater Acting like a soap opera queen Yeah, she's so dull, come on rip her to shreds She's so dull, come on rip her to shreds She got the nerve to tell me she's not on it But her expression is too serene Yeah, she looks like she washes with Comet Always looking to create a scene Yeah, she's so dull, come on rip her to shreds She's so dull, come on rip her to shreds She's so dull, rip her to shreds Oh, you know her, "Miss Groupie Supreme" Yeah, you know her, "Vera Vogue" on parade Yeah, you know her, with the fish-eating grin She's so dull Yeah, she got the nerve to tell me! Huh, she's so dull Yeah, there she goes now She making out with King Kong She take her boat to Hong Kong Well, bye bye sugar And not a minute too soon

#blondie #debbie harry #1976

[krawlernyannyan]

IT'S ALL ABOUT ENA (ft. SUNDAY WAS THE BAD GUY ALL ALONG)

After the v2.2 trailer I'm really starting to think the events going on in Penacony are somehow deeply tied to Ena the Order. At first I thought all the Order motifs (i.e. the eye symbol of Order being all over) around Penacony were just cool worldbuilding details about how the Harmony must've adopted the Order's symbology on top of THEIR Path, but now...

Like the thing that's really tipping me off here is all the goddamn puppets. The final boss of which is religiously-themed.

This is an insane idea but what if everything that's been going on in Penacony has been the result of somebody trying to re-establish contact with Ena and/or the Path of Order? One of the major discoveries we made in v2.1 was that something's wrong with the Harmony, so what if the Harmony on Penacony is being corrupted in such a way that it aligns more with the Order? It's not even hard to see how.

The Harmony should be about cooperation, resolving differences, mutual understanding, but on Penacony that's not remotely the case. The Family's main tactic to keep the peace has been robbing people of their memories and emotions - keeping them in control not necessarily so people can heal, but to keep them in line and serve their designated functions. The Family on Penacony has already been debasing its population into obedient puppets, doing everything possible to maintain the facade they've created.

There's also the fact that Penacony used to be a prison, a setting that embodies the kind of control and forcible penance that Order represents. Xipe's attention was drawn to it because its prisoners began uniting together in the dreamscape but what happens if Penacony reverts back to a prison?

There's a lot of things that click neatly into place with one extra assumption, that the person ultimately behind this distortion is the most Order-adjacent character in the Penacony cast: Sunday.

He's the most outwardly religious person on Penacony in terms of his faith and he's straight-up covered in the Order's eye symbol, even having them on his halo, plus his major character trait is being a control freak. Circumstantially, he fits.

At this point it's been hammered in that there's a traitor in The Family - as the person in charge of the Family (only answering to the unseen Dreammaster) he's literally pulling the strings on Penacony and in the best position to manipulate its environment, so him being the literal puppetmaster behind everything would be a neat turn of phrase.

While he's outwardly devout to Xipe it could be the case that his appeals are specifically to those aspects of Xipe that THEY absorbed from Ena.

Sunday's ultimate goal is to create a truly perfect paradise in Penacony, but his idea of that could be reliant on the complete control of its population to stop all conflict, hence why he's going to such lengths to get Ena's influence.

It's been stated that a lot of the Dreamscape exists thanks to blessings from Xipe the Harmony, leading to its relative safety, but if the Harmony starts getting corrupted and weakened, then that would weaken those effects and that could be why the deeper dreamscape is starting to flood into Penacony. (This would be an unintentional side-effect of trying to bring about Order, or at least one Sunday thinks the influence of the Order could resolve in its own way.)

Sunday's been putting more resources into finding the serial killer than he is into the Charmony Festival, upsetting other Family members. If he's the one behind everything, he should already have a plan in mind for the Charmony Festival and so it's not a concern to him but the serial murders act as a chaotic element upsetting his attempted Order so stopping them and restoring Order is his higher priority.

On the subject of the serial murders: one detail we got in v2.1 is that the victims seem to be entirely random with no correlations or similarities between them. It could be that we just don't know the underlying reason but what if it is random? Intentionally random because doing it like that means there's no order to them. Something chaotic to disrupt the mastermind's plans to re-align Penacony into the Order. If they're Enigmata-themed like Gallagher, the random killings serve the double-purpose of obfuscating their true intent by making people try to find reason where there isn't any.

(I want to emphasize here that Sunday wasn't behind Robin's murder. This idea only works if he and the killer are on opposing sides, plus when he confronts Gallagher about her death I believe he's genuinely upset about it. Her investigation into the Harmony on Penacony is probably why she was targeted but I still believe Sunday would've tried other ways of getting her onto his side if she found out.)

Now, Robin did presume he was innocent, but we can excuse that on the basis that it's unlikely she would assume her own brother had ulterior motives, and his "death" at the end of v2.1 could simply be a narrative red herring to make us think he's only a victim in all this.

The last point I want to make here: the main event of the Charmony Festival is supposed to be Xipe's incarnation descending (in this case Dominicus, who was referenced in v2.1). If someone is actively trying to tilt Penacony away from Harmony and towards Order, then by the time the Charmony Festival actually arrives it might be not be Xipe's incarnation we see descend, but instead an incarnation of Ena. Hell, we might have actually seen that exact situation happening in one of The Great Septimus' attacks:

#EZ: HSR #HSR #Honkai Star Rail #HSR Ena #HSR Sunday #HSR Specposting #fun fact: did you know septimus' third phase renames itself to “Embryo of Philosophy”? #just translate the name on it in the livestream #smth smth trying to rebirth Ena

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv,

Do you have any recs where Draco is Harry’s gay awakening?

Thank you 🙏 You’re the absolute best.

Thank you, anon 💜 I got a few recs for you, these also include bi awakening. Btw Writcraft and ignatiustrout are great authors that often explore this theme in their works so I highly recommend checking their ao3. Enjoy!

Bridges by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 16k)

Harry and Draco are on a trip to Budapest to help with Kingsley's re-election, but that's the boring bit. More interesting: Harry Potter is changing his Tinder preferences to include men.

Poor Unfortunate Souls by @doubleappled (E, 19k)

Draco is a potioneer. Harry is trying to save his sex-challenged marriage. Everything is a mess, but at least there's an octopus in the lobby.

Harry Potter and The Bisexual Awakening by @writcraft (E, 23k)

Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated.

The Venice Job by nishizono (E, 25k)

Harry Potter was one of the youngest Aurors in history. He was the Boy Who Lived, and the Boy Who Lived Again. He loved Guinness and Quidditch, and hated pineapple. He wrote letters to Hagrid every Thursday, and on Sundays, he visited Hermione and Ron. Harry Potter was also not gay.

Buds, Blooms, and Beards by @corvuscrowned (E, 27k)

Harry and Ginny have built an easy, happy life for themselves after the war. They run a thriving plant shop together, they have a great relationship, and they're definitely not gay.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

War Wounds by SilentAuror (E, 30k)

Some wounds take longer to recover from than others. HP/DM, with background HP/GW. Themes of alcoholism, love triangles, and dubious fidelity.

On One's Knees by pir8fancier (E, 34k)

The war is over and to the victors go the spoils. If you are triggered by infidelity, this is not the fic for you.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things by @writcraft (E, 63k)

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

Reparo by amalin (E, 85k)

Voldemort's final defeat does not mean Harry Potter's troubles are over; far from it. In the aftermath of war, he returns to a Hogwarts that is fractured and divided, but this is no break that can be fixed with a spell. New owls, fading scars, surprising alliances—and along the way, the hardest task of all, to live with it.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose and dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Level Two: Series One by Ashii Black (ashiiblack), blamebrampton, Catsintheattic, dustmouth, epithalamium, incandescent (lmeden), josephinestone (orphan_account), leveltwo, nerakrose, raitala, Romaine, Vaysh, Writcraft (E, 113k)

Witches and wizards are disappearing in a seemingly random fashion. Coincidence? Abductions? But no one is claiming ransom. The Aurors are not even sure the disappearances are connected, then one of the missing turns up dead. Meanwhile, Auror Harry Potter is thrown into the infamous Sirius Black Muggle murder case from 25 years ago.

Star Quality by who_la_hoop (E, 118k)

Two years after the war, and Harry’s content with his life. OK, so it’s a little annoying that he keeps winning Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor award, and he’s really not looking forward to the unveiling of an enormous gold statue of himself, but he loves his friends, and he loves being an Auror. And if he yearns for something more, something he can barely bring himself to think about, well, he’ll probably get over it. No one’s happy all the time, are they?

Things Worth Knowing by Femme and noeon (E, 164k)

After the Battle, Harry thinks he's left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco's just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He's hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems. Unfortunately for him, Potter appears to be one of those problems.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #bisexual awakening

[hippolotamus]

Seven Sentence Sunday 🫶

Tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @loserdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @weewootruck @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @hoodie-buck @eowon @stereopticons Thank you loves 💕 (make sure you check their snippets if you haven’t!)

I’ve been in a writing slump, but challenged myself to come up with at least 7 sentences for today. I’m quite proud of myself! A fresh snippet of you’re where I wanna go (follows this snippet)

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

“Let’s hope so.”

“Somebody’s got to be missing him.”

Buck drifts in and out of consciousness, noting the unfamiliar voices — just two he thinks — around him. His body is heavy with exhaustion, too much to be able to open his eyes or make any sound of acknowledgment. He’s also vaguely aware of the throbbing pain at his left eye and a dull, though no less intense, ache in his stomach.

“Why don’t you go back to bed, get a few more hours. I’ll keep watch in case he wakes up.”

The intent doesn’t sound malicious or make Buck think he’s in any danger. But he’s certainly made that mistake before.

“Bobby, are you sure? I don’t mind staying here with you. You know what? Never mind, I’ll make some tea.” A pause. “Not sure I could sleep anymore anyway.”

There’s a soft, familiar noise, like a gentle affection infused kiss, followed by retreating footsteps. If he wasn’t already in so much pain — disoriented from whiskey, numbing cold, and heartbreak — that tender gesture might be the thing that sends him over the edge. A show of love and devotion that he’d had. A comfort that was stolen from him time and time again. Although, sometimes it was never his to begin with.

A swelling pang in his chest tries to take over, but he’s too broken and weary. It’s quickly squashed under a fresh wave of fatigue he readily succumbs to.

It’s late so no pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @giddyupbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @pirrusstuff @monsterrae1 @eddiediaztho @forthewolves @wildlife4life @chaosandwolves @heartshapedvows @your-catfish-friend @statueinthestone @buddierights @911onabc @the-likesofus @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @ladydorian05 @apothecarose @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @vanillahigh00 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @honestlydarkprincess @spaceprincessem @watchyourbuck @gayedmundodiaz and anybody else who wants to 🥰

#Buck could not have landed in front of a better doorstep #dear readers welcome Bobby and Athena #he’ll insist he’s fine for a bit #but don’t worry the Grant-Nash household will eventually wear him down #seven sentence sunday #Sunday sentences #hippo writes #fic: you’re where i wanna go #buddie wip #historical au

[goodnitedrdead]

winter falls

Colonel Carrillo x Reader

Summary: winter blows again, and time has flown by. Colonel Carrillo never thought he'd be fearing the solitude that came with the season. Just as he thought he was about to fall apart, you rush in to keep him together. To help scare away the tormenting thoughts that were haunting him, you decided to take him out for a walk surrounded by the bright Christmas lights that adorned the local plaza.

Word Count: 5.8k (not bad for a girl with no talent)

Warnings: Carrillo lives. Slight/mild PTSD from the night Escobar shot him. Talks about divorce. Intrusive thoughts. Lonely holiday time. Talks about religion. Emotional infidelity, I guess? Lots of feelings. Fluff. Angst with an... okay ending?

Author's Note: don't let the kpop icon scare you, ok? pls be kind to me this is the second fic I've ever written, I'd really appreciate the feedback. ALSO, I am absolutely in love with the colonel. Inspiration for this came from the song Winter Falls by Stray Kids. I recommend looking up the lyric translation because I tried to include them through the fic, but it's not required. THANK YOU FOR READING!!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME. MWAH TO ALL THOSE WHO WILL READ THIS <3 also, i cross posted this on ao3 in case y'all would like to follow me there, I know sometimes Tumblr tends to be... mean.

IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS FOR THE COLONEL PLS SEND THEM MY WAY.

Colonel Carrillo didn’t fear many things. Hell, he didn’t even fear death itself. But recently, as the nights got longer and the temperatures started to drop, he started to know fear. The thing that embarrassed him the most was that it was an intangible fear. It wasn’t the bullets that flew left and right past him as he was in the streets of Colombia. It wasn’t the sicarios that etched the notorious Colonel’s name in their minds, hiding in the shadows waiting to pounce and take his life. It wasn’t the blood, nor the warzone he lived in day in and day out. No, it wasn’t any of that. Horacio Carrillo was afraid of desolation.

He thought he’d have more time to get used to it. As he awoke one day from being in a coma for who knows how long, he found his wife by his side. He felt a sense of relief, there was somebody there to greet him back to the realm of the living. There was someone who yearned for his existence. Someone that prayed for his return. Someone that needed him.

That feeling was short-lived as he woke one day and noticed she was gone. Divorce papers waiting on the table by his side, along with a long letter explaining her decision. 

Days, weeks, months passed as he went through numerous sessions of physical therapy. He felt a broken man. A once fearsome and lethal man… and now just a man trying to learn simple tasks like if he were a child.

When Escobar shot him, the news of Colonel Horacio Carrillo’s death spread like wildfire. However, thanks to Trujillo, one of the few survivors of the ambush that day, he was rushed to the hospital. Fortunately, the bullets had missed all the important parts of him. Of course there was damage, but little by little, thanks to the help of the doctors, nurses, therapists and everyone in between, the Colonel was able to make it. 

Oh how he wished he would’ve been left to die.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

He was raised a catholic man. His family never missed mass on Sundays, no matter how much anyone protested. He’ll admit, there were times when he hated it. He doubted the existence of God. He doubted the existence of la Virgen. He doubted the existence of any omnipotent presence because if anyone in this universe existed, men like Escobar would be brought to justice. 

As he laid on the cold concrete that day, he recited a prayer. A simple prayer, asking for forgiveness for his sins and whatnot. To be completely honest he didn’t even believe the words that he was saying. The overwhelming taste of blood in his mouth bothered him, and kept interrupting his prayer. Now, as the devil himself stood above him, he started to see his life flash before him. Once again, death itself didn’t scare him. He was ready to welcome it, in fact. Unfortunately he couldn’t even focus on that when someone else was occupying his mind. He felt a bit guilty, to be honest. He thought of his wife, Juliana. He thought of his children. He thought of the pain they’d have to endure because of his death. He thought of his mother. How his dear mother would grieve the death of his son. She would always voice her worries to him, but he always reassured her that nothing would ever happen to him. Until Escobar happened, then Horacio started to keep quiet. His reassurances to his whole family turned into nothing but silence. He kept thinking of his family, and he wished that was the extent of who he kept thinking.

That wasn’t the case.

You kept invading his mind like poison. In fact, that’s exactly how you slowly started to infiltrate his every thought. It was one of the biggest mistakes of his life, accepting you into the Search Bloc team. From the very first moment he laid eyes on you, he knew he had broken his sacred vows. He never did anything to you, he kept the relationship professional. Actually, he tried his best to avoid having any ties to you, but due to the nature of your job, it was almost impossible. No matter what he did, no matter where he turned, no matter where he went you always followed. It was as if a snake bit him, and little by little you started to take over every part of him. The poison coursed through his bloodstream, intoxicating him as it spread to every inch of his very being . 

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

 The last few months leading up to his ‘death,’ he spent it at the office. It was during those months where Juliana started to doubt their marriage. Long hours away from home, the pressure and torment that rested upon Horacio’s shoulders, the way Escobar was draining him little by little started to affect Juliana. She didn’t know when this was going to come to an end. If there was even an end. What about when Escobar was caught? Who will follow? She will know no peace next to Horacio. Their children will know no peace next to their father. Not anymore. 

He’d once promised her it wouldn’t always be like this. But unfortunately, she knew that promise would not be fulfilled.

So when she received news that he was caught up in an ambush, she felt life escape her. She regretted ever thinking that. But, as the months passed and she was informed that her husband had made it after all, she felt a tightness in her chest. 

When she saw him there, almost lifeless, she begged God for forgiveness. She begged God for forgiveness for what she had in mind. It’s not that she didn’t love him, no that wasn’t the case at all. But she did not want to live in a constant state of fear. She did not want to get caught up in the war that followed him. So when he woke one day, she allowed herself a few days to feel out her emotions. But, seeing as how close he had come to dying, she came to a conclusion. She had to put herself first. She had to put her children first… and that’s what she did. She had no time to think as she placed the divorce papers on the table next to his bed. She reached into her purse, pulled out the letter that she hoped he’d read, and rested it on top of the papers that were about to end it all. Slowly, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. Disculpame, cariño. 

Now, as the nights got longer and the winds grew colder, he found himself in the position he feared the most. Horacio Carrillo was alone. 

The fact that it was nearing Christmas was worse. He always thought he’d have more time to get used to it. But it was one of those things that he shoved to the back of his mind as he tried to get himself back together. It caught up to him though, and now there was nothing he could do to make peace with solitude. 

The war had been won, to an extent. Escobar was dead. The Cali godfathers were a distant threat. Colombia was starting to get well acquainted with peace. The Americans were still infiltrating his life. That was starting to become the norm for him. 

He was definitely not sure why they had wanted him back. After he was discharged from the hospital and he was able to walk again and become a fraction of what he used to be, he was offered the same position. The same position, minus the physical aspect. Now, he had to hide behind his office and bark orders at men and wait for reports of how stakeouts and raids went. This isn’t how he wanted to live. 

It was starting to get late. The building was starting to empty out quickly as the weekend before Christmas arrived. Carrillo looked out his office to find you on your desk. Murphy sat atop the files you had laid out on the table, throwing a ball of paper into the air before catching it and repeating the same motions. You sat on your chair, a smile adorning your face as you talked about nonsense with Murphy, Peña, and Trujillo. Carrillo felt a ping of jealousy sting him. He wished he would have that same smile directed towards him. He wished that smile was reserved for him and him only. 

See, from the moment you joined the team you became a huge distraction for the Colonel. Your bright eyes, full of wonder and curiosity. Your smile, radiant as the sun and contagious to everyone around you. Your laugh, oh how your laugh was music to his ears. Your hair, the way it framed your beautiful face and left a haunting yet comforting trail of your scent as you walked past him. The way you were friendly with everyone around you and provided everyone that crossed your path with a sense of comfort. The unforgiving way you lit up any room you walked in to.

You were transferred to Colombia from Juarez. You had arrived at the same time, if not a bit after Agent Murphy. Unlike Steve and Javier, you were not a pain in his ass. Carrillo felt a tad bit of hostility towards the gringos, but never to you. Well, you weren’t really considered one to him. He’d come to learn that you were born and partly raised in Mexico, you became an American citizen when you were a teenager. He thought that must’ve been hard for you, leaving your home country and trading it for one that was so… hostile. Carrillo always thought America was like a wild bull, untamable and stubborn. That was one of the many things he’d come to admire about you: the way you’d easily adjust to the situation around you, no matter what it was.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Outside the church, you leaned on your forearms against the side of the car, aimlessly tracing the letters on the hood of the beat up police car. Steve leaned with his back against the bumper of the car while Peña and Carrillo questioned where Javier’s informant was. Helena, you recalled Javier sharing her name with the Colonel. You listened to their conversation in Spanish, and you assumed it was because they were trying to hide something from Steve and yourself.

You didn’t really care if they were trying to hide something. You understood every word they were saying, though they did not have a clue you were fluent in the language. Steve, however… 

You felt so bad for the poor man. A white man in a foreign country, with no concept or knowledge of the language, much less the culture. You felt the need to approach him and inform him of the conversation he was excluded from, but you stopped yourself when you heard the men start to question your presence. 

“¿y la chica?”  

“No, ella se queda con Murphy. Será mucho para ella,” you heard Javier say. Carrillo asked Javier about you, and Peña, most likely thinking you were some sort of fragile porcelain doll, told him you were to stay with Steve. Asshole, you thought to yourself. You looked at both of the men, and heard Javier say, “you two stay here and see if she comes back, okay?”

With that you saw as they both got onto a truck and left, leaving you and Murphy to stare at each other in confusion. 

Time passed and you two decided to get acquainted with one another. You learned Steve was born in Tennessee but grew up in West Virginia. He told you all about his career, how he ended up in Colombia, and the love of his life who waited for him back at the house. You smiled at the way he talked about her. You didn’t really believe in true love, but the way Steve was expressing himself about Connie? You might start to actually believe it. 

The church bells started to toll, and Steve let out a yawn. He excused himself for a moment before he walked to the driver’s side of the car. With a soft knock on the windshield, he approached the officer that sat at the wheel. 

“Any news on the radio?” Steve asked.

“¿Le digo?” The soldier asked his partner. 

“No. Acuérdese lo que dijo Carrillo,” The soldier replied to his partner, eyeing Steve cautiously. 

“Perdón, pero yo no hablo inglés,” The soldier on the driver seat told Steve. An apologetic smile on his face.

Steve sighed. With a frustrated huff he walked back next to you and leaned against the car.

“Nothing yet. Can’t believe they left us behind just like that,” Steve told you while he pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his jacket.

“There’s something they don't want us to know. Carrillo’s men clearly have instructions to not share any information with either of us. Might want to start questioning who we got as partners,” you told him.

As you lit the cigarette Steve offered you, you noticed how he looked at you confused. 

“What makes you say that?” He asked you.

You shrugged and exhaled the smoke from your cigarette slowly, “I understood what they were saying. One of Carrillo’s men said to remember what he’d told them. That sounds like they’re withholding their whereabouts.”

Steve let out a chuckle. “You know Spanish? How come you never said anything?”

You smirked and shrugged again, “Nobody ever asked. My superiors know, that’s what matters.”

“Remind me to keep you around me as a translator then,” Steve smiled at you.

“Oh honey, I am more than just a translator.”

And that’s how Steve learned about your past. Where you were born, where you came from, what got you to this place. From that moment on, you made an agreement with Murphy that you’d help him with the language. Maybe not with the teaching, but letting him know what those around him would say. 

So long as he didn’t tell Peña or Carrillo that you knew Spanish. You wanted to see how far this little game could go.

Carrillo’s men eventually called the both of you and took you to where Peña and the Colonel were. Steve got out of the car frustrated, immediately asking where Peña was. When you saw he stormed towards both men, you got out of the car. You gave a brief ‘thank you’ to the men that drove you there and tried to catch up with Steve. 

When you got there you heard Steve and Javier speaking about Helena. How she was and if she was gonna be okay. As you listened and looked between the both of them, you felt a strong pair of eyes on you. You shifted your gaze and found the Colonel looking at you. You weren’t gonna deny it, his stare was overwhelming. If he would’ve been any other man, or any other person you worked with, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. However, the fact that they both left you behind on purpose stirred frustration within you. 

You stared back at him, no intention of backing down from this silent challenge. You thought it might’ve been a meaningless action, but you hoped it got the message across. You weren’t going to give in. Not to him. Not to anybody. There was a reason you were sent down here, and you were here to stay as long as they needed you. 

Eventually Carrillo lowered his gaze. He’d never admit it but he felt small in your presence. Your gaze was soft. Stern, but somehow tender. And that’s what made him uncomfortable. You weren’t just looking at him. You were looking at him. Through him. That made him uncomfortable. That was the moment when he knew you weren’t just going to be another member of the team. And he’d start to regret laying his eyes on you, for it was going to be impossible to get you out of his mind. 

“You left me behind on purpose,” Murphy exclaimed to Javier. 

“Look, man–” Javier started to explain. More than likely it was gonna be some bullshit excuse as to why he abandoned you both.

“If we’re gonna be partners, I don’t get left behind. We don’t get left behind. We didn’t come all the way down here, Peña, to sit on the fucking sidelines.”

Javier looked at Steve and then to you. You gave him a simple nod, signifying that you completely agreed with your companion. You didn’t come here to waste your time. 

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

It was late. Nearing midnight. Yet, Colonel Carrillo sat still in his office. The soft ticking of the clock on the wall became louder each time. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to go home. He couldn’t even call it home anymore. The empty structure that held so many memories, so much warmth and love now turned into an unwelcoming and haunted place. The ghost of the memories he shared with his family. 

His mind started to betray him. He thought of the man he used to be. The collected, composed, and stoic Colonel Horacio Carrillo. Leader of the Search Bloc. Escobar’s nightmare.

Now? A broken man with broken dreams. 

He felt the walls he built around himself start to crack.

It’s not like he did it on purpose, as a military man it was more of a requirement. And he wasn’t always like this. 

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Keep it together, Horacio. He thought to himself. The rampage of his ongoing self-sabotaging thoughts were interrupted by a series of laughs that came from outside his office. He stood up and walked towards the door, he stopped in his tracks when he found you shoving Agent Peña away from you. The laughter that came out of you was angelical to him. 

Peña, Murphy, and Trujillo looked up at the Colonel, and immediately quieted down. At the sudden change in atmosphere, you turned and followed their gaze and found none other than the Colonel looking at all of you. 

“Carrillo, we were just going to go out for some drinks. Care to join us?” Asked Murphy. 

The Colonel politely declined the offer but wished them a good time. He saw as all three men walked away, waving their goodbyes to you. You turned to settle back into your chair and looked up at the Colonel. 

“You’re not going to join them?” He asked you curiously.

“No, I’m okay. Not really in the mood to join them. I spend enough time with them as it is,” you smiled at him.

He couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that engulfed him at seeing you smile directly at him. 

He nodded. 

“Shouldn’t you be going home, then?” He asked you once again.

You shook your head. Sure, it could be the weekend and all but you knew if you went home it’d just be a long episode of absolute boredom. Maybe you’d consider joining your friends for a drink.

“Very well then,” he said to you. With a small turn he went back into his office and sat on his chair.

Fuck. He thought. Had you really just smiled at him? He felt like an idiot. He felt like a teenage boy all over again when their crush would spare a glance at their direction.  Keep it together, Horacio. For fuck’s sake. 

He didn’t know long he stayed that way. His face burrowed in his hands. His elbows deeply planted on the surface of his desk. His tormenting thoughts were back. 

Good for nothing. You couldn't even take down Escobar, yourself. The whole nation calls you a hero but that’s not who you actually are. Murderer. Colonel Martinez is ten times better a man than you are, pendejo. You should've died that day. Trujillo should've left you to die--

His body gently started to shake as he remembered Pablo looming above his body. Darkness started to surround him. The agonizing piercing pain of the first bullet Pablo shot at his body. He remembers he didn’t even make a sound when the bullet entered him. He couldn’t give Escobar the satisfaction. 

A knock at his door snapped him out of it.

He looked up to find you, eyes full of concern for him. 

“Everything okay, Colonel?” you asked him. Your tone barely above a whisper. 

He stayed silent as he averted his eyes to his lap. He tried to breathe, but he felt as if he were frozen, under the ice. No matter how hard he hit the layer of ice he was trapped under, it wouldn’t break and he was about to drown. He tried taking another breath, but the oxygen wouldn’t reach his lungs. He slowly started to get pulled deeper and deeper into the depths of the unforgiving arctic, not knowing if he’d ever make it back.

He suddenly felt tears stain his cheeks. The cracks of the walls started to get bigger and bigger, and he knew he was at his breaking point. 

At the sight of the poor man before you, you rushed to his side. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what was acceptable to do. Surely your eyes were playing tricks with you. The rigid man you always knew was shattering before you. So you did what you’d never thought you’d ever do.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him. 

Every single moment after that kept coming as a surprise for you. 

You held him tightly as he sobbed in your arms. His body shook with every gasp he took. You’re not sure how you both ended up on the floor, but the fact of the matter was that he was still in your arms. You were awkwardly sitting with one leg tucked underneath you and the other extended to the side to accommodate the Colonel’s body into yours. You started to stroke his hair and run your fingers through it absentmindedly. Wondering what had brought him to this point. 

Whatever it was you wished you could take it all away. Truth be told you had developed feelings for the man that seemed to not have any. You loved the way he carried himself. Always so full of confidence. You particularly loved that he was such an ass. All because you knew he wasn’t really like that. It was all a show. You just knew there was a playful and gentle man behind the mask of what was Colonel Horacio Carrillo. You knew there was a man worth loving.

You also knew he was married before, so you kept your distance. Always tried keeping it professional. But you’d be a damn liar if you said you wouldn’t go out of your way to make sure the Colonel noticed you. Not in a cringe way, you were slightly younger than him, so you didn’t want to embarrass yourself. Plus, he was married. You weren’t about to become a home wrecker, but the feelings you developed for him weren’t harming anyone but yourself. You could live with that. 

You weren’t an idiot either. You’d sometimes notice the way his gaze would linger on you a little bit longer than other people. The way sometimes he’d use a softer tone with you. The way he’d, although very rarely, would give you the smallest of smiles. This would cause you to go home at the end of the night and smile to yourself like a teenage girl while you attempted to sleep. Maybe it was all in your head, but it made going to work worthwhile. 

As the Colonel slowly came back to his senses, he started to pull himself away from you. He gave you an apologetic look that shattered your heart. It’s okay, you wanted to tell him, I got you.

“I am sorry, agent. I do not know what came over me,” he said as he wiped his nose. Gosh, he felt so stupid. A broken man that was falling apart in the arms of the person who was not supposed to see this side of him.

“No se disculpe, coronel. No hay por qué pedir perdón,” you told him with the softest tone you could muster. You were saying the truth though, there was absolutely no reason for him to apologize. He had done nothing wrong.

Carrillo had once heard that people expressed their feelings better in a different language than their mother tongue. This was due to the fact another language served as a distraction from their actual feelings. So although you were both fluent in Spanish, he felt safer communicating with you in english. If he would’ve been within his five senses, he would’ve started questioning you about the language you replied to him in. 

Horacio took a deep breath and felt the oxygen reach his lungs this time. Your scent filled his system and he felt like he had broken through the ice that trapped him. His head was above the water now.

You both stayed sitting on the floor, at this point you decided to cross your legs and get into a more comfortable position across from him. He sat with his back against the drawers of his desk, his feet planted on the floor and his knees bent. He ran his hands up and down the expanse of his legs slowly, as if he were trying to comfort himself. 

“I am going to be honest with you, agent. I have not been well. I know there’s been… talk. About me, about what happened to me after Escobar, about my life,” he sighed and tried to think of the point he wanted to make, if there was even one. Truth be told, if you had already seen him cry, hell, what else could he lose by sharing a bit of what was on his mind. “My wife left me after I woke up from… the aftermath. I do not blame her, I hold no negative feelings towards her. But I have found myself in a position that I did not prepare for. The days get shorter and the nights get longer..”

You gave him a small nod to indicate that you were listening to him. Gosh, you could listen to him even if there were a million people around you talking all at once. Only him. 

“... Time has passed and everyone except me has changed. I–I am lonely to the point of pain,” he continued. His voice is slow and soft, but the unsteadiness in it was hard to miss.

You took in a deep breath and looked around you, trying to find the right words to say. Trying to find the perfect words for him, because you truly believed if this man asked you for the world right now, you’d find a way to get him the damn universe. 

“I can’t say I understand what you’re going through, Colonel–”

“Horacio,” he interrupted you, “please call me Horacio.”

You gave him a gentle smile before continuing, “Horacio. I can’t say I understand what you’re going through because I have never gone through that myself. However, I can understand your loneliness. But the thing is,” you threaded lightly, because you still didn’t know what was acceptable in this situation, “you don’t have to be. Look, I know it’s hard and all but you somewhat have a second family here. Agent Peña, Agent Murphy, your soldiers… me.”

Horacio Carrillo felt a jolt of electricity run through his body as you looked at him. Truly looked at him. Your own intense eyes focusing on his own. He felt you were a storm. A storm with the darkest of skies and the heaviest of rains that could somehow lullaby him into the most relaxing sleep of his life. 

“Did Martinez… was he a good leader?” he asked, tears once again threatening to fill his eyes.

You let out a soft laugh and looked at your legs. Was he questioning the leadership style of Colonel Martinez because he was… insecure? Was Colonel Horacio Carrillo, the daring leader everyone came to know, insecure? Was he really comparing himself to Martinez?

“Colonel Martinez was good. A very respectable man. But,” you looked back up to him and scooted a bit closer to him, “he wasn’t you. I don’t think there’s any man in the world that would be able to fill your shoes.” You weren’t referring to the previous Colonel’s leadership style. No, this was personal.

He scoffed softly and rolled his eyes. He didn’t mean to do this in a rude way, but he felt you were just saying this out of pity. 

“I am just a fraction of the man Hugo Martinez is,” he said coldly. 

“This isn’t about who’s a bigger or better man, Horacio. Sure, under Martinez’s leadership we were able to bring down Pablo. But at the end of the day, you were the one that haunted Escobar’s dreams. You led one of Colombia’s most important unit. Colonel Martinez continued what you started,” you grabbed his face in your hands and let your thumbs stroke his cheeks. The rough feeling of the stubble that was beginning to grow under your fingers. “Did you hear that? What you, Horacio Carrillo, started.”

“I did terrible things that he never even had to do,” he protested.

“We all did, my dear. But we all did what we had to do in order to survive.”

My dear. That alone blew away the brewing tempest that was forming his mind. He nodded in your hands and swallowed the tightness he felt in his throat.

You pulled your hands away from his face and stood up, extending one of your hands to him to pull him back to his feet. He wanted to chuckle at that. You, smaller than him in size, wanted to bring him back to his feet. He ended up taking your hand but didn’t put any of his weight on you as he rose to stand.

“Come with me. Let’s go think of something else,” you smiled brightly up at him. A full smile that reached your eyes and hinted at a bit of mischief that somehow put him at ease.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You had convinced him to climb in your car without saying where you were taking him. He didn’t mind though, he trusted you with his life. You’d been by his side during some of the most dangerous moments of his life, what would make him think you’d want to hurt him.

Nearing your destination, you instructed him to close his eyes. He obeyed without having to ask him twice. He was starting to come to the realization that he quite enjoyed following your commands. His mind started to wonder to more pleasant situations as you drove. How would it feel for you to give him simple domestic commands? For you to tell him to do the dishes… to let you cook in peace… to give you one more kiss before he left for work. He snapped out of it before his mind decided to wander off too far. He felt the car come to a complete stop and heard you change gears to park. 

“Keep them closed, okay?” you instructed him once again and he gave you a nod, the smallest hint of a smile starting to form on his face.

You got out of the driver’s seat and rushed to his side to open the door. You told him he could come out and held the door open for him as he undid his seatbelt and got out slowly. Once he was completely out of the car, you closed the door and took a deep breath.

“Alright, should I cover your eyes or guide you with my hands?” 

He raised an eyebrow and started to grow suspicious. What could you possibly be hiding from him? He wasn’t going to give up the chance to have close contact with you though, even if it was just the feeling of his hand in yours.

He didn’t reply, instead he just extended his hand out to you. You smiled to yourself at the motion, immediately reaching out to hold his hand before you started to walk forward at a careful pace so he wouldn’t trip.

Horacio had lived most, if not all, of his life in Colombia. The cold weather didn’t faze him, hell, he was in the military and they had to endure rigid temperatures as part of their training. However, today in particular was cold. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had unconsciously lowered his defenses while he was with you, but the cold was starting to get to him. Even with his jacket on, he still felt the chill in the air as you guided him through wherever it was you took him to. His mind going haywire between the stark difference of the crisp weather and your warm hand holding his. 

He heard the distant sound of children laughing, families calling out for their kids, conversations here and there, cars passing by. His suspicion grew by the second as he followed you, his eyes still closed when you came to a stop. 

“Okay Horacio, you can open your eyes now.”

At your command, he opened his eyes and looked around, his sight trying to adjust to the environment around him. You’d taken him to a local plaza, a tourist-y area adorned and decorated with Christmas lights on every surface. There were lights wrapped around the trunks of the trees, lights hanging from the branches that swayed with the wind, lights resting on top of some small and well-kept bushes, lights that paved the way to the different directions of the plaza. Colorful lights everywhere. 

“Ta-da!” you exclaimed, a bright smile on your face as you looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

He tried to take it all in, kept looking around before focusing on you. He saw the way you smiled at him, a hopeful expression in your eyes almost as if asking, do you like it?

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before taking a deep breath. He didn’t have time to think before he wrapped his arms around you this time, his lips resting against the soft skin of your forehead. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin. A million words he wanted to say but couldn’t. Thank you for not letting me fall apart. Thank you for not letting me drown. 

You closed your eyes as you returned the embrace. Wishing that, somehow, you could make him feel the love (that you’d been trying to bury deep down) through this simple act. Wishing that, maybe one day, you’d be able to tell him that if he were drowning you’d drain the whole ocean for him. Only for him.

#colonel carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo imagine #Horacio carrillo fic #colonel carrillo imagine #colonel carrillo fic #narcos fic #narcos #goodnitedrdead writes #self indulgence babey #maurice compte

[alex51324]

Eclipse Trip Report, Part 1

TL: DR, The eclipse was clouded out and therefore a bit underwhelming, but still neat, and the rest of the trip was fun, too!

I arrived at my campsite on Friday afternoon, amid snow flurries and sleet:

Luckily, I was staying in this snug little hut, a Pennsylvania state park "camping cottage." They're smaller and less quaint than the rustic cabins that I usually get, but because they're prefab, they have them at some of the parks that don't have full cabins, including the one where I was staying, 20 minutes outside the path of totality.

The hut has 3 of these little radiators, along with two sets of bunks:

Sophie always decides to sleep on that green blanket on the floor when we go camping, even though I make up a bunk for her. That ended up working out this time, because my dad decided at the last minute that he wanted to see the eclipse, too, so he came up Sunday night. I'm not sure who among the three of us would have had the hardest time getting up to a top berth.

Besides the bunks, you also get a table and chairs:

The cottages are located right on the park's little lake:

This was a less-than-a-minute walk from the cottage, and I could hear the frogs from my bunk!

The weather cleared up by about mid-day on Saturday, so we hopped in the car and drove to the path of totality to scout out viewing spots. Here's what we decided on, at Long Point On Lake Chautaqua State Park:

We walked out to the titular Long Point:

Which was very windy, but a nice view!

After that, we drove up to Lake Erie and had a look around, visiting two lighthouses, each with a little municipal park nearby. Here's the Dunkirk Lighthouse:

I got there a little too late to go on the tour inside, but I was mainly there to look at the lake, anyway. It's a very big lake. What's eerie about it, Lake Erie, is that it's sort of like the ocean--it has waves, and you can't see the other side--but it's like a normal lake in how it smells, and what the plant and animal life is like, and all that:

It's kind of disconcerting.

Also mildly disconcerting was how this little beach, a municipal park of some kind, was directly under the shadow of this factory:

There's also interesting driftwood, smoothed into odd shapes. This one looks like a dragon skull:

Then we drove up to the Barcelona lighthouse:

Which was also closed, in this case because it's falling down, and you can't even get a good look at the outside because it's all fenced off so it doesn't fall on top of somebody. (The vertical stripes on the tower are something they're apparently using to brace it up, and the whole other side is blocked off with orange construction fencing.)

It has a much cooler beach, though:

There were these crumbling slate cliffs, and little waterfalls coming down them!

Sophie enjoyed sniffing things, and drinking the lake:

When we got back to the hut, she was ready for a nice rest:

#eclipse trip #cabins #vacation photos

[hashtagloveloses]

I have to ask: As someone who used to work in social media and who knows a lot about current pop culture happenings, why was Succession so popular/successful? My parents are OBSESSED with it now, not a day passes where they don’t watch at least two episodes after dinner and I cannot stand it (it’s just not my thing). What makes people love it so much?

so there’s a few things to keep in mind here:

1. there’s a difference between POPULAR and TALKED ABOUT or BUZZY. what you see people discuss online a lot or not isn’t always a reflection of what the majority of people are actually watching, which is harder to measure these days bc streaming platforms hide their numbers, but if you look at places like FlixPatrol, Parrot Analytics, etc, you’ll see certain things that always did well on broadcast, like procedurals and the Simpsons and shit, are still popular across both network and streaming, despite what’s talked about online. sometimes the buzz does intersect, but the venn diagram isn’t always a circle. this is why when people say “why arent people talking about x” or “people talk too much about y” im like well. that’s just what generates engagement online, not necessarily the majority’s opinions or tastes.

2. shows or other pieces of media that encourage sustained conversation in some way will always be buzzy, bc platforms are pushed by engagement, positive or negative. SUCCESSION, much like many other HBO shows like GAME OF THRONES, aired at a time weekly most people in many popular western markets could watch it around the same time and post about it in the same language, Sunday nights, and didn’t drop at all at once so it allowed conversation to snowball and to be sustained. Game of Thrones didn’t have to be good to be popular. It was just on at the same time every week at a good time for most people around the world to watch within a 24 hour period and talk about at once. so it trends or floats to the top and other people see it and check it out. HBO kind of perfected this but doesn’t realize this is one of their strengths, bc David Zaslav is an idiot.

3. A show being well written and made does help! People notice the quality, even subconsciously, and it makes people talk about it more, and ironically word of mouth matters more now than ever bc we have infinite entertainment choices against TV. When something is good, it stands out, especially bc late stage capitalism has ground people with any talent or creativity into dust. BUT the content of the show (or any piece of media) itself also has elements that will ALWAYS make people talk about it online or otherwise, which pushes engagement (and things like GOT and Euphoria did too)

- terrible people we can all hate together

- controversial shit we can fight about

- moments that are shareable (either good dialogue as memes or crazy visuals from action scenes)

- in the case of Succession and GOT, a finite end point to argue over and speculate about. Who will inherit? Who will sit on the Iron Throne?

4. specific to Succession, this is a show about the media, and nobody loves that more than people who work in the media (i would know), who also happen to be the majority of people pushing conversation online and also writing reviews, so that’s what trickles down to regular viewers. as somebody who has been fucked over by millionaires in media many times, watching those bitches fight amongst each other can be satisfying. (Succession isn’t my thing either but I can see why). even if you don’t work in the media, in a time of a widening income inequality gap, watching rich people suffer and be assholes to each other is very fun. it’s why Knives Out is fun. or Real Housewives. or even Game of Thrones (bc half of them were landed gentry).

all that being said, the reason your parents like it may simply be that they knew a lot of people with similar tastes talking about it, checked it out, and it’s a well made show so they got hooked. combination of timing, word of mouth, and quality filmmaking barely ever happens but when it does you get a good show that’s also popular (Abbott Elementary is also a great example. these are exceptions to the rule, where most pieces of media struggle in one or more of these fronts.)

my parents are also HBO drama people since Six Feet Under and the Sopranos and you know what all of that has in common? well written TV about terrible families we can shoot the shit about around the water cooler on Mondays, or on Twitter. because at the end of the day, NOTHING brings people together, even my parents who don’t like each other, or opinionated fuckers online, like hating shitty people together.

#thank u for this question i love analyzing this shit #succession #hbo #what do i even tag this as #ask

[thesoftboiledegg]

"Unmortricken" was a wild ride. While we're still processing that, let's see what the mall had in store this weekend! 👜

Box Lunch didn't have any new Rick and Morty merchandise. I don't know how much control the employees have over this, but I gave them a little tip anyway.

Every time I see "(and NICE)," I wonder what people have been writing on these forms. "Fuck you for not carrying an obscure anime from the 70s!!!!!"

Rue 21 had new pajama pants. I don't wear pajama pants, but these feel so soft and snuggly that I wish I did. Adult Swim's getting a lot of mileage out of that Morty illustration where he looks a little overeager.

On to the nerdy store. The avalanche of Rick and Morty Funko Pops that somebody dropped off a month ago is thinning out, but they're still scattered around the shelves.

When I saw the box for the Pickle Rick Funko Pop, I thought "OK, I want to see how they pulled this off." Unlike most characters, Pickle Rick has no arms and legs. As a result, his Funko Pop is just...

A cylinder.

He looks so unnatural! It's like a Funko Pop from another dimension.

These guys were out of the package, so I don't know where they came from. No longer collector's items, they're cursed to hang on the discount rack.

Anyway, this store bewilders me because they have one King of Shit Rick Funko Pop locked away in a glass case for $64.99:

And an identical King of Shit Rick Funko Pop locked away in another glass case for $59.99:

And now, they've got another King of Shit Rick Funko Pop selling for $64.99, but he doesn't get a fancy case. They threw him on the shelves like some wild animal!

Damn, I'd hate to be that guy.

As an aside, I smiled when I saw Artemis Fowl on the bookshelf. I loved that series growing up, and the fourth and fifth books came out at the height of my hyperfixation. Other special interests have had issues--they became unhealthy, the creator turned out to be shitty or I just grew out of them--but Artemis Fowl was great from beginning to end.

I haven't read the books in ages because I don't need two hyperfixations, but I've got it in my back pocket 🤫

Spencer's didn't have any new merchandise, but the Rick and Morty cube and snarling Rick pillow sat on full display.

Pickle Rick was happy to be with his friends!

When I visited a friend on Saturday, one of her friends arrived wearing a Rick and Morty shirt, which I took as a good omen. Sure enough, Sunday's episode was one of the biggest events in the series' history. Maybe I need to give her a Spencer's gift card so that she can wear a new shirt every day of the week.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #spencer's #rue 21 #funko pop #roundup

[pearwaldorf]

I watched The Star Beast on Sunday. It has been the first time I have watched Doctor Who in about... a decade? (I watched a Twelve and Clara ep and was just so fucking depressed at the end of it I just stopped. I have seen bits and pieces of Thirteen's run and is there a supercut of her and Dhawan!Master? Please tell me there is.)

And it is strange coming back to a thing you loved and also were completely fucked-up by. Even though he wears the same face, Fourteen is not Ten. Somebody here was like "He displays more genuine emotion in this one episode than he did in Ten's entire run."

The past few years of reboots, sequels, and adaptations involve a lot of creators revisiting their past work (Good Omens, Sandman are the ones that I have watched), and it's been interesting seeing what's changed and what hasn't. (Davies continues this trend, coming back to Doctor Who for the 60th anniversary specials and Fifteen's ongoing run.) It feels like most of the male characters are softer, a little less jerky. I don't know if it's because the adapters/writers are older, or if it feels like what needs to happen.

I can't think of any companion who we have kept revisiting as much as Donna. It's interesting how Fourteen refers to her as his "best friend". (And that may be the case, but if my best friend gave me amnesia instead of letting me die with my faculties intact I would have Fucking Words with them if I ever regained my memory*.) And for someone who can jump through space and time, I find it curious that the Doctor tends not to revisit old friends very often. Except for this one.

I have been thinking about do-overs, and how they've been handled in things I've watched lately. (S2 of Our Flag Means Death is, in many ways, a chance to right missteps from S1 for a lot of characters.) And narratively, I think it's necessary for the Doctor to go back and make amends for a truly awful thing he did, even if his actions did lead to the plot device that ultimately saves London**. (There is a post here that I can't speak to because I haven't seen this episode about why it makes sense for the Doctor to revisit all of this and make things right.)

At this point, I can't say much about how this is going to play out because we've barely gotten into setup for the next two specials. I hope it goes the way I want, because it is a thing that has been on my mind for fifteen years. Donna has always deserved better, but I think we do too.

--

* One of the earliest Doctor Who fics I ever wrote is the TARDIS dealing with trauma from the Saxon years and basically getting triggered by what happened to Donna. My opinion about this has always been consistent, at least.

** To be clear, Rose is not just a plot device. I love her to bits and I would rend the world to pieces for her, same as her mother. I'm extremely glad this episode is going to piss off the TERFs and GCs, because condoned bigotry does not belong in any media, but especially science fiction. The execution was a little *wigglehand*, but he got the spirit at least.

#pear text #pear watches doctor who #doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers

[mumblelard]

i can't feel my face or i think the time change malfunctioned

#no lips #no tongue #nobody's listening #post #anthropocene #spongebob #it feels like #somebody put something in my dribk #i've got a broken face #nightmare fuel #drubk #standard time #somebody's got a case of the sundays #i am having seamonkeys for dinner #i've got a safety pin stuck in my heart #for #catherine deneuve #a big ship at the edge of the universe #what if two #grabbing onto the weeds to keep from falling of the edge of the world #hunt lounge and make merry for tomorrow we shall die #more than one drink of bourbon and i have a compulsive need to hear the sound of breaking glass #the world without us #sundays #north fulton county #georgia #end of messages

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

No Need To Make A Wish

Or; Father Paul spoils you on your birthday. Requested by anonymous. Takes place sometime after More Than Sinful. I tried to write this in a way in which it would work whether your birthday is in July or December or any other month. I truly think the weather on Crockett Island can get this shitty any time of the year ;) Hope you enjoy!

No Need To Make A Wish - 3.2K

tw: suggestive themes (implied)

The weather was ghastly. Wind and rain most of the time these days. You normally had no problem staying inside and minding your own business, having many hobbies and chores, not to mention your work, but this was getting ridiculous. It’s been a week since you had a proper stroll without fighting the wind for your umbrella. You hoped the weather would get better again soon, as you were getting a little antsy and you knew so was everyone else. Sunday mass was half emptier than usual and not even Annie and Leeza showed up to the daily one.

Luckily, that meant one thing - Father Paul spent much more time with you. And despite your want to go outside and take a nice long walk, you supposed that this was much better. Not to mention the priest did a marvellous job at distracting you.

You spent this night at your home. Which was a little out of the ordinary ever since this ‘rain season’ began. Normally, you’d be at the rectory, Paul would get up and ready himself for mass without waking you, and then, after waiting in the church for twenty minutes in case somebody actually showed up, he’d go back home, take off his clothes and hide right back under the covers with you. However, yesterday he said that he’d like to spend some time in your house too, to maybe ‘watch your favourite film, you do have a better telly, after all,’ and because ‘I really need a change of surroundings, getting bit of a cabin fever in here’ . He listed a few more reasons, none of which you believed much, but didn’t want to question him. After all, the idea of cuddling with him watching your favourite film sounded way too good to pass.

And so, another morning, your bed this time. He got up and it actually woke you. Pretending to still be asleep, you watched with one eye sneakily open how he slowly dressed himself. Stepping into his boxer briefs, he soon located his socks and jeans. You couldn’t help yourself. You propped yourself on your elbow, now obviously watching him with interest. “Enjoying the show, are we?” he whispered, his bare back to you. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t I ever?” you said back cheekily. He turned around towards your bed and kneeled upon it: “I’m sorry I woke you. Get some more sleep and I’ll be back in a bit.” Sitting up, you pulled him close to feel his bare chest against yours and kissed him slowly on the mouth.

After a while of unhurried kissing and soft touching, he drew away from you. Father Paul traced your lips with his thumb and smiled: “I’ll be here soon.” You nodded and lowered yourself back onto the mattress, content to just watch him finish putting on his clothes. It was very early, still rather dark and the clouds in the sky made it seem even darker. When he was finished, he gave you one more soft kiss and left. He had a thick raincoat and boots in the hallway, just so he wouldn’t get absolutely soaked the second he stepped out of the door. Though you absolutely wouldn’t mind caring for him again, he was very much not keen on the idea of catching another stupid illness.

You dozed off again and when you woke up, more light was pouring in from your windows. It immediately struck you as odd that your bed was entirely priest-free. You looked at the alarm clock and it said half past nine. Hm . Normally, Paul would be long back by then. But then again, perhaps there actually were some attendees for the mass today, and maybe one or more of them stayed for confessions. Well, whatever it may be, you knew Paul would come back eventually. Until then, you wanted to clean the house a little; it got a little bit dusty, since you spent so much time at the rectory.

—

Meanwhile, Father Paul was standing in a classroom, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. In front of him, behind a desk, stood Bev Keane, looking sour and cold. “It’s just until the weather clears up, Bev,” tried Father Paul, his voice soft, “you know as well as I that the church is empty everyday, save for you and me, everyday except Sunday.” Beverly looked at him coldly, unrelenting: “Well, what if somebody does show up, what if someone finds themselves in need of your guidance and they’re met with a sign that says ‘Daily mass cancelled due to bad weather’?” “Then I am a phone call away,” replied the priest immediately, fishing out the basic smart phone you got for him to use. You couldn’t fathom how he managed to hold on to his old java phone for as long as he did…

“Besides,” he continued, “I’m thinking of your health, too.” His voice was warm now and it caught Bev off guard: “My health?” Paul smiled: “but of course. Annie told me Ed fell ill a few days ago with a cold. Warren too, though you already know that. Surely you can’t enjoy walking all the way to church everyday in such a downpour!” He looked at her expectantly. After a few moments, she finally spoke: “So, what now? Just cancel daily mass? What about Sunday?” ‘Got it!’ Father Paul cheered inwardly, giving Beverly a calm smile on the outside: “Sunday mass will be held as usual, of course. Daily mass will be cancelled until the weather is more favourable and if anything else needs to be done, home visits, confessions, I’ll be in the rectory or on the phone.” The woman didn’t look pleased nor angry, and just nodded her head: “Very well then. I hope you know what you’re doing. You’ll find letters for the board in the rec centre.” And with this, Paul knew it was time for him to leave.

As he left the school, he breathed a sigh of relief and finally smiled genuinely. “So, what’s the verdict?” asked a familiar voice behind him. Erin Greene stood to the side of the building, holding an umbrella and looking at him expectantly. “No mass except Sunday.” he said, turning to face her. “Wow. You actually did it, I’m impressed,” Erin chuckled, “anyway, you can come pick it up in two hours or so, I should be done by then.” And with that, she took off towards her house, leaving Paul standing there in his raincoat. He smiled again, wider this time - his plan was coming together nicely.

—

When Erin told him your birthday was coming up soon, Father Paul knew he wanted to do something special for you. A picnic, then a cinema date on the mainland, followed by a romantic dinner. Well, man plans and God laughs - he sure wasn’t planning on this weather which seemed to come out of nowhere, destroying his ideas. An outside picnic was out of the question, and a single ride on the ferry would probably mean the only thing you’d be doing in bed would be nursing a cold. But he wasn’t about to give up. Erin was more than willing to help, offering to make her famous pasta primavera for the two of you, so you could still have your romantic dinner and Paul gratefully accepted. She laughed at him, when he confessed he bribed Sturge to bring him a list of things from the mainland a day before your birthday. This resulted in a rather uncomfortable Sturge meeting him with a bag of items priests don’t usually ask for, but he didn’t say a single thing about it.

Now he had everything he needed. In his messenger’s bag was a bottle of champagne and a small box wrapped in brown paper and tied with strings. The priest had a thermobag containing the still steaming hot dish in his hand. Everything well hidden under the raincoat, of course. Once he stood outside of your house, he looked around. The streets were empty and he didn’t see any prying eyes in the windows either. He knocked once. Then twice.

—

You opened the door to find him just standing there, smiling from ear to ear, his face flushed from the cool air and his raincoat dripping. “Hello! Oh, come in,” you hurriedly stepped away from the door so he could enter, “I say, what have you been up to? Don’t tell me the church was full.” He chuckled: “It wasn’t. In fact, there won’t be anyone there until Sunday. ‘Daily mass cancelled due to bad weather’.” Paul winked at you and started to shed his coat, mindful of the items in his hands. You stood closeby, looking at him with interest: “What have you got there?” The priest looked sheepish all of a sudden. He hung his coat and took off his boots. He finally went to embrace and kiss you, once he put both his bags away.

You still regarded him curiously and he looked down shyly: “Erin told me about your birthday. I wanted to do something special for you.” You made a soft ‘tsk’ sound. “Oh come here, you!” you sighed, deeply touched and held him to you once more, kissing his neck softly and slowly moving to lay a trail of kisses to his cheek, then to his mouth, then upon his chin and back again. “You know you didn’t have to do anything though, do you? Just being here with you is very special to me.”

“I know,” he said, finally looking at you, “but, well. Since Erin already prepared her pasta primavera for us, and I made Sturge get a good champagne…” He had to laugh as your eyes went wider and wider and the excitement was evident on you. You prepared the plates and cutlery while Paul fetched the glasses. He knew where you kept candles in your house and covertly lighted a few of them and brought them closer to the table. Of course, you noticed immediately and went to kiss him again. Not that he argued. Once you started eating (and making content soft noises as the food was delicious), Paul told you of the things he wanted to do with you originally, but couldn’t because of the weather. You didn’t mind at all, though, seeing as you were sitting opposite your amazing lover, eating mouth watering food and drinking sweet sparkling wine.

More than the champagne though, you were getting drunk on his attention. His eyes didn’t leave yours and his hand always lay atop your own, if you weren’t currently using it. It was dizzying in the best of ways. But then something caught your attention. His leg bumped into yours a few times under the table and then stayed there. “Do you remember that one day we were on the mainland together? The one that ended with me kissing your cheek for the first time?” you asked suddenly. Paul grinned into his plate: “I’m glad that you only talk about the day like this and not as the day I caught the flu from an another priest.” You giggled softly and grabbed his hand, caressing his fingers. “Yeah… we were sitting in that restaurant and I kept losing my train of thoughts because your legs would bump into mine just like that. Back then, I understood, you know, with your long legs and the small table, but now I’m not that sure. Was that on purpose, back then?” you asked, bumping into his leg to show what you meant. Father Paul looked a bit sheepish again: “Yes,” he said, his cheeks flushing a little, “I mean, it was an accident at first, but then once I found I could get away with it… “ “You scoundrel!” you laughed loudly and he joined you.

Soon, you were both done with your food and were engaging in flirty and loving banter, looking into each others’ eyes. “What do you say,” began Father Paul, his fingers playing with the hem of your sleeve, “I take care of the dishes and you run us a hot bath?” You grinned at him, tracing your fingertip along the rim of the glass: “ ‘I love you, Paul’ , that’s what I say.” And without another word you got up, grabbed both of your glasses and the bottle and ran into the bathroom. Oh, thank god for that bathtub. You and Paul got to try it together on two occasions already, and it was very comfortable and relaxing… among other things. Taking a nice soak seemed like the perfect thing to battle the cold that seemed to attack Crockett Island so unexpectedly.

Soon enough, Paul joined you in the bathroom. You smiled when you heard him and bent over a little to feel the temperature of the water, deeming it perfect. The priest came up behind you and grabbed you gently by the shoulders, pulling you back and into him, finally wrapping his arms around your torso and burying his face into your neck. You curled your arms around his own and swayed with him softly into an nonexistent rhythm. You then turned around in his arms and grabbed his face, laying your forehead against his and staring deeply into his eyes. Without another word, he gave you another soft kiss to your lips and tugged at the hem of your t-shirt. You raised your arms and let him pull it up and over your head, your hands immediately going to the buttons of his shirt once they were free of the garment.

You continued undressing each other until you were completely bare and Paul wordlessly stepped into the bathtub, made himself comfortable, then reached a hand towards you. You took it and climbed right after him. Some minor adjustments later, you were leaning into him, your back against his chest with his arms once more enveloping you in their gentleness. “I love you,” you said again, your eyes closed. Your body was absolutely relaxed, as was your mind for once, and your heart sang with bliss. Paul left a trail of kisses on your neck and shoulders. “I love you too,” he whispered into your skin, “so much.”

—

“I’ve got one more thing” he said once you were finished with your bath and got out of the tub. “Hm?” you looked over to him a bit distracted, still drying your leg into one of your fluffy towels. “I’ve got one more thing for you. But I’m going to need you to close your eyes.” said Father Paul with a smile and stepped out into the hallway, naked like the day he was born. You smiled and closed your eyes, waiting for your lover to return. You heard footsteps drawing near again: “got them closed?” You hummed in affirmation. The priest grasped your shoulders again and walked behind you. Except he continued walking, making you walk too wherever he was leading you. “Stay there and keep them closed,” he stepped away and there was some rustling. You felt his presence behind you once more and jumped a bit when something cool touched your collarbone. Still, your eyes were closed. The cool feeling now spread around your entire neck, except the very back of it, where you felt Paul’s warm hands fiddling with something.

“Open your eyes,” he said against your ear and put his hands upon your shoulder again. You did and your gaze fell immediately to the little piece of jewellery that now adorned your neck. It was a thin silver necklace, plain, and its ends met in the middle of your throat, both of them connected to a single small angel’s wing. It was simple, with no complicated decor or grand stones, but it was the most beautiful necklace you have ever owned in your entire life. Looking at it and your own reflection in the mirror brought tears into your eyes and you covered your mouth. “Do you like it?” asked Paul. He too was observing you and himself in the mirror, and he sounded a bit worried at seeing your tears. You couldn’t speak and just nodded your head frantically, turning around to fall into his embrace again. You clang to him, wanting him to feel all of your love.

“I love it,” you said once you finally found your voice again, “it’s so beautiful. Oh, Paul, it’s so beautiful, thank you.” He just held you tighter. Once you’ve calmed down a bit, he took a hold of your face to look at you. He lovingly took in every part of your face which became so very dear to him and his eyes trailed lower, towards the necklace. “I hoped you’d like it. Made me think of you. My beautiful angel.” You caught his lips in a kiss filled with love and passion, pushing your tongue into his willing mouth almost right away, and your hands found their way into his hair. You kissed him desperately, adoringly, pleadingly, absolutely devotedly and he reciprocated in the same manner. When you had to part for breath, else you lost consciousness, you once again caught yourself in an intense eye contact. “I just realised,” you said dreamily and Paul hummed in question, “it’s Friday tomorrow. And you said masses except the Sunday one were cancelled.” Paul grinned at you wolfishly and the look sent shivers down your spine, and made your blood boil and rush into all kinds of places. “Due to bad weather, yes,” he said, his voice low, lustful, “thanks to bad weather, we’ve got the entire night. Just to ourselves.” And with that, he picked you up bridal style like you weighed nothing at all and carried you out of the bathroom.

—

Later, much, much later, you were lounging around in your bed, sipping on the champagne Father Paul ever so  helpfully brought from the bathroom, talking softly and in hushed tones. “So, how did I do?” he asked suddenly. Your cheeks just began to lose their flush, but it started to settle back in again immediately. “Oh,” you purred, “you know very well that you did wonderfully.” He chuckled and landed a very light slap upon your bum, making you squeal quietly, delighted and amused. “Not what I meant,” he said, smiling still, “I meant your birthday.” You tipped your head back in realisation and laughed, but then sat up and put your glass onto the bedside table. You tucked your head under his chin and curled into him like a happy tired kitten: “Best birthday ever. I mean that.” The priest smiled and ran his warm strong hand up and down your back, making you close your eyes in bliss. “I love you my angel,” he whispered then. “Love you too, dearest” you replied, your voice sincere, and huddled closer to him, as close as you could. You probably didn’t even realise it, but Paul noticed almost right away. Every so often, every few minutes even, your right hand would go to your throat, then your collarbone and lower, before finally resting against your heart with your fingers touching that little angel’s wing. And you would smile. And Father Paul, he smiled too.

I hope you enjoyed reading! As always, you can find this story and the entire series on AO3. I am always a happy little sucker for feedback!

.

#midnight mass #midnight mass fanfiction #reader insert #father paul x you #father paul x reader #father paul #father paul hill #father paul hill x reader #fluff #implied smut

[spiderking-of-queens]

Chapter Two: The Junkyard

Summary: After getting a worrying call from Billy, you take it upon yourself to follow Max and Lucas to the junkyard where you stumble upon a town secret involving your old friend/nemesis Steve. (2.6k words)

Author’s Note: This one’s kind of a Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington fic, but mostly just the reader’s introduction to The Upside Down (It does include a protective Steve, tho!). The next few chapters will mostly be about Steve since it’s the plot of season 2, but Eddie will definitely be back don’t worry! Warnings: Just swearing, creepy demogorgon stuff and a near death experience.

Masterlist

November 4th, 1984

Steve Harrington was an asshole. A Grade A, yuppie wannabe piece of shit.

Yet here he was, shielding your body with his as he clutched a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it, promising you that you weren’t going to die.

Earlier that evening, you were sketching in your room with your headphones on. Usually, drawing helped keep your mind off of things, but you were finding it hard to get away from your nagging thoughts. This was probably due to your anxiety about facing Eddie in the morning. 

You were so deep in concentration that you hadn’t noticed your mother waving her arms wildly as she tried to get your attention. You lowered your headphones so you could hear her tell you that somebody was calling you on the phone downstairs. 

“Hello?” You said into the phone after you raced downstairs and your mother handed it off to you. You were surprised that someone was calling you on a Sunday evening. Actually, you were surprised that somebody was calling you at all.  

“Yeah, this is Billy. Do you happen to know where my brat of a step-sister is?”

“Max?”

You could hear his eye roll through the phone.

“Yes. Max.”

“No, why?”

“You hang out with her, right? Do you know where she might be?”

You fought the urge to rebuke that comment. You didn’t necessarily “hang out” with her. But you couldn’t deny that you had developed a bit of a friendship, especially after your heart-to-heart with her in the McDonald’s parking lot. Okay... so maybe it was a little bit true.

“Is she in danger Billy?” 

“She’s definitely about to be. Look, do you know where she is or not?”

You didn’t like the sound of that. You did have a few ideas about where she may be, but you knew better than to tell Billy anything. 

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t. But will you let me know if you -”

He hung up before you could finish your sentence, and you stared at the phone in disgust before you slammed it back down on the receiver. Billy was the biggest dick you had ever met, and the way he always insisted on torturing Max was vile. You remembered your goal to keep him away from her. You weren’t about to quit now. 

You grabbed your jacket and called out weakly to your parents to ask if you could borrow the car, not actually wanting to get their attention. You decided to take the silence as a yes and deal with the consequences later. 

Then, as you were about to get into your car, you saw Max hanging on to Lucas Sinclair as they rode his bicycle down the street. 

You scoffed and paused for a moment as you processed this, watching them ride carelessly past you. You knew she was safe now, but had a nagging feeling that you should probably follow her anyways in case Billy did find her. Who knew what would happen if he did? Especially now that Lucas was involved. 

“Shit,” you muttered and got into your car. Following around a couple of kids on a bicycle was definitely not in your weekend plans. 

You followed them as closely as possible until they veered off the road towards the old junkyard. You muttered another expletive to yourself and parked your car on the side of the road. 

You figured it was okay now to give them some space. You would be able to see Billy approaching from the road. But as time went on and the sun started to go down, you began to feel more and more antsy. 

What the hell were they doing? You hoped to god that they weren’t making out or something. If so, then you felt like a major creep. But when you heard a strange, animalistic roar coming from the direction of the junkyard, you started to panic. Before you even knew what you were doing, you jumped out of the car and ran towards the sound. 

You called out Lucas and Max’s names, but when you made it to the junkyard, you saw Steve Harrington instead. He was wielding a baseball bat with giant nails sticking out of it.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked in confusion, lowering his bat slightly. You were kinda surprised that he remembered your name. 

“Steve Harrington?” You called in complete disbelief at what you were seeing. For some reason, it didn’t feel right only calling him by his first name. “What the fuck is going on?”

He didn’t respond. He just lurched towards you and pulled you behind him when another chittering sound came from the trees. 

“What the hell are you doing? What was that?!” You squeaked. Everything about this was completely batshit. You almost thought you were hallucinating. 

“Just don’t move!” He demanded. 

You snapped your head towards the abandoned school bus behind you when you thought you saw movement. Max and Dustin Henderson were peeking out from some wire that had been haphazardly nailed to the windows. Max had a confused and terrified look on her face as she recognized you, and you wanted to go to her immediately, but you remembered Steve’s warning not to move. You had no idea what was going on and absolutely no reason to trust him, but the way he had grabbed you to shield you made you feel like you should. You were sure he wouldn’t be protecting you unless there was a very good reason for it. 

“Steve! Watch out!” You heard a voice scream from the roof of the bus. You realized that it was Lucas. 

“Little busy here!” Steve snapped back at him.

“Three o’clock! Three o’clock!”

You turned back towards the direction Lucas had called out and almost fell to the ground from what you were faced with. 

It was a horrific looking creature that stood on four legs. Your brain tried to rationalize it, but came up short. There was nothing on planet earth that looked the way that thing did. It didn’t even have a face, just a mouth with rows and rows of teeth surrounding it. 

You stumbled backwards and Steve caught you with an arm behind his back, pressing you into him. 

“Steve, seriously, what the fuck is that?!” You pleaded as quietly as you could muster. You wanted to scream but did your very best to hold it in. “Oh my god, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die,” You kept repeating. 

“Just stay calm, alright? We’re not going to die. I got you.”

Even though he sounded just as terrified as you when he said this, there was something about his arm holding you steady that made you believe it. Your fists were gripping the back of his jacket with desperation, your breath becoming shallower by the minute. Then three more of the creatures appeared from the shadows and you were sure that it would only be a matter of time before you passed out. 

“Steve! Abort! Abort!” Dustin called, now at the door of the bus.

Steve turned his head slightly towards you and whispered, “Run.”

You froze, terrified, and he repeated it again louder to snap you out of your horror. After the second time, you obeyed him, stumbling on your feet as you bolted towards the bus. You could hear the sounds of a fight as you ran, but didn’t dare turn and watch. If Steve was about to die, you really didn’t want to bear witness. 

You made it to the bus and fell to the floor as the kids gestured wildly for Steve to join you. By some miracle, he made it and fell down beside you. Then without hesitation he slammed the door shut and pressed a large sheet of metal against it with his feet to try to keep the creatures out.

“They can’t get in! They can’t!” Lucas shouted, but it sounded more like a desperate question than a pronouncement. 

As if to answer him, one of the monsters ripped through the metal and the kids were pulling you with them towards the back of the bus. 

Steve was hitting it wildly with his bat as you watched in terror. Dustin tried to get a hold of somebody on his walkie talkie for help, and then a pair of claws suddenly pierced through the wall behind you. You screamed and fell backwards as Dustin shouted into the walkie that you were all gonna die. You believed it wholeheartedly now.

An eerie silence suddenly fell over everyone as the roof of the bus began to give way from the steps of one of the beasts. You all gazed up at the open emergency exit as it slowly came into view. It was the closest look you had gotten of it yet, and if you weren’t sure it was something straight out of a nightmare before, you were certain now. 

Max was closest to it and began to scream. You pulled her away from it by her jacket and wrapped your arms around her shoulders in a last-ditch effort to protect her. 

Steve rushed forward and yelled for all of you to get out of the way, then wielded his bat at the monster as its head split open to show all of its teeth. He dared it to come and get some, and just when you were certain you were about to watch him get eaten alive, the creature seemed to be distracted by something off in the distance and retreated.  

Everyone was silent as you all waited and listened. You let go of Max and slumped down to the floor as Steve and the kids left the bus to make sure the coast was actually clear. You stared into space as they spoke to each other, still trying to process what had happened.

A few hours ago, you were in your bedroom drawing alone. Now you were in a rusted out school bus with a bunch of kids and Steve Harrington after almost being eaten alive by monsters from hell. 

You flinched when you felt a hand rest gently on your shoulder. 

“Sorry…” Steve said with a grimace as he quickly pulled his hand away. “Are you okay?”

You looked up at him, then saw the kids standing behind him. They seemed to be handling the near death experience remarkably well. Certainly much better than you, anyways. You were slightly embarrassed by this, and also worried that your fear might rub off on them. 

Steve turned and looked at them too, then asked them if they could give the two of you a minute alone. They obeyed and went to the front of the bus to sit by the door. 

“Hey, listen. I know this shit is crazy. Believe me. I was put in this exact position last year. You’re not alone, okay? We’re all freaked out. But we have to go now.”

You nodded but still didn’t move. 

“How did you get here?” He asked. 

“I… drove,” You responded shakily.

“Okay. Do you think you’ll be good to drive home? We can walk you to your car.”

You stared at him. There was no way you wanted to be alone tonight. The idea of sitting in your room and trying to sleep after what you had just witnessed made you sick to your stomach. Besides, you came here for Max, and there was no way you were going to abandon her now. 

“I’m not leaving,” You said. 

“Y/N… don’t try to be a hero, alright? We’ve got a long night ahead of us and you don’t know what’s going on. You stumbled into this. Nobody would blame you for walking away right now.”

“I’m not leaving,” You repeated defiantly. “I came here to look out for Max, and I’m certainly not going to leave her and the rest of these kids alone with you now that I know there are freaky faceless monsters running around trying to eat everybody. Okay? End of discussion.”

He seemed impressed by your determination, but the truth was that you really didn’t have any other option but to join whatever quest they were about to go on. There was no way you would be able to move on from this unless you faced it head on. You needed answers.

He stood up and extended a hand, and you reluctantly took it and let him help you off the floor of the bus. 

“Alright,” He said with a sigh. “Let’s go, then. We’ll do our best to explain on the way.”

“So, you stalked me?” Max asked with a laugh after you explained what you were doing at the junkyard. You were all following the railroad tracks out of the woods.  

“Maybe just a little. I wasn’t planning on actually intervening unless Billy showed up. But then I heard those… things. Demogorgons. Demodogs? Whatever.”

Everyone had done their best to explain the situation to you, but you were having trouble fully wrapping your mind around it. All you really understood was that those monsters were what the government scientists at the lab were trying to cover up, and they had something to do with Will’s disappearance. Apparently Lucas had filled Max in earlier that day, but she hadn’t actually believed him until after what she had just witnessed. You were sort of glad that you weren’t the only one who was new to all of this. 

Dustin, Steve and Lucas were arguing about something as you were talking to Max, and you tuned back in to listen to them. Apparently, Dustin had found a tiny little critter in his trash cans and called him Dart, and it turned out that Dart had actually been a baby version of a demogorgon. It also turned out that Dustin finally realized this when he found Dart munching on his cat, Mews. Your face twisted in horror when Steve forced him to admit this, and Lucas seemed angry that Dustin tried to hide it. They started yelling at each other as you, Steve, and Max watched on helplessly. 

“Guys, who cares? We have to go!” Max tried to interrupt, but it didn’t work. 

“I care! You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!” Lucas screamed.

“So did you! You told a stranger the truth!” Dustin defended himself, shining his flashlight straight into Max’s eyes to indicate that she was she stranger he was talking about. 

“A stranger?” Max scoffed, clearly offended by this. 

“You wanted to tell her, too!” Lucas continued, ignoring her. 

“But I didn’t, Lucas, okay? I didn’t tell her!”

Steve gave you a look that said, ‘Do you see what I have to deal with?’ As they continued to scream at each other. You smiled back at him apologetically and almost said something, but you were interrupted by loud screeching in the distance. 

You watched Steve with wide eyes as he walked off towards the trees, his flashlight guiding his investigation. 

“Hey guys?” He called, trying to get the boys to stop arguing and focus on the task at hand. When they didn’t stop, he turned around and yelled it louder. 

They all jumped and went quiet, then immediately tuned into the sounds of the demogorgons. Dustin and Lucas followed Steve further into the trees as you and Max watched.

“No, no, no. Hey, guys, why are you headed towards the sound? Hello?!” Max called after them, then muttered an expletive and turned to look at you with an exasperated expression.

You shrugged back at her and gave a sympathetic smile.

“Well, do we follow them into Mordor or bail now? It’s your call, Mad Max. I’ll follow your lead.”

After giving this some thought, she let out an exaggerated sigh and silently decided to go after the boys. As promised, you followed closely behind her. 

You had no idea what the rest of the night would entail, but from there on out, you knew that there would be no turning back.  

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #fanficiton #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 2 #eddie munson fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #reader insert #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #Eddie Munson reader insert #Steve Harrington reader insert #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #billy hargrove

[brettyimages]

year to date little adventure journal, in case you care

jan 28: edinburgh, nadine shah. spent my sunday afternoon shopping for the important things (bed sheets and bath sheets) and the fun things (hair dye, book club novels). had a ramen lunch at the yo sushi on princes st watching sushi plates sail past the scott monument. dinner and drinks with friends then centre barrier at the assembly rooms. my 9th time seeing nadine, 3rd time since she started teasing the new album so 3rd time hearing topless mother, even light and greatest dancer live. she was sensational. always is.

jan 31: glasgow, depeche mode. as soon as i got back from seeing nadine i was on ticketmaster looking for a cheap seat. had to work on the train and in waverley station but worth it. arrived to find myself in the back row of the hydro but i loved it. nadine supporting was stunning, first time i've seen her from the back of a room and her voice filled the place. depeche was amazing too, a couple of hours of songs i adore including strangelove, behind the wheel, somebody, in your room, just can't get enough, policy of truth, black celebration, etc etc etc. i got up when they started walking in my shoes and danced through the entire show from that point on, safe in the knowledge that there was nobody behind me as i flailed around. it's given me the last-minute trip bug.

feb 9: glasgow, the 1975. a long trip with many connections to get to my airport hotel and then back out to the hydro. early entry door was so slow that i got in as the normal doors opened, damp from the rain, but i got a good spot down the front. didn't know the japanese house were making upbeat tunes now so their set was a surprise. still... at their very best was much like the show last year but loved it, especially the surprise of bagsy not in net. i swear matty made eye contact with me a few times; he's so good at that. staging was beautiful, as always. mad rush to get back to town for the airport bus.

feb 10: london, suedemas. a couple of months late this year because of tour in december. early flight to luton and a morning in maida vale, an afternoon in highgate wandering aimlessly in waterlow park and hanging out in the boogaloo. italian food and gossip and gifts at paddington, drinks then trekking across to hackney for an indie club that played 6 AM songs in the hour we were there. heartwarming to spend the day in the company of dear friends.

feb 22: leeds, nadine shah. filthy underneath on repeat on the train down. a little shopping time before dinner but the second hand record store prices appalled me. over at the brudenell there was no queue for the show so i hung in the lobby as nadine soundchecked her new songs. front and centre in the main room, 6 songs: the three she'd been playing at all her pre-album shows, plus keeping score, hyperrealism and french exit. stunning, again. she spotted me wearing her merch and gave me a big grin and wave. i love her.

feb 23: birmingham, the blackout. a huge french toast brunch at moose coffee, a train to brum, a wander round the bullring. ready for a weekend of big nostalgia seeing the band who defined my student years and first flush of independence; found myself singing along to the songs and doing all the little actions as if it had been weeks and not years since the last time. ended up on the barrier for the last couple of songs and snoz immediately pointed a drumstick at me with a grin. saw some old friends, waited a long time in the freezing cold to get a chat with each of the 6. lots of big hugs, catch ups, a "fucking love you!" greeting from Gavin. so special.

feb 24: london, the blackout. trains to kentish town, bumping into matthew on the way to the flat. an afternoon with my besties, tokyo diner bento, hot chocolates, the Cute exhibition. we hung out in the hello kitty disco and pretended to have a sleepover in the hannah diamond installation. seeing an old band with a new band friend - same set, different side of the stage. waited out in the cold to chat again, more big hugs and catch-ups including a long conversation with sean. so much easier to chat as adults when i pretend we're old friends and not a girl with the singer from the band she has a huge crush on. a perfect weekend.

mar 9: galashiels, swim school. a local gig, a band i barely know but have high hopes for. the kind of show where i can have a normal day and then hop on the bus in the evening; macarts, a place that feels like home now. swim school and her picture both great bands, the kind of gig where i didn't know a single song but wasn't wondering how many songs they had left.

coming up: sprints. a week of adventures with a brett anderson cameo or two. nadine again. olivia rodrigo. for one night only, the ninth wave. finally, eventually, being in front of suede again.

#journal

[marshmallowprotection]

So...had my blood taken today (very ow) and it just made me wonder

Mint Eye and its strange medical ideas

What exactly do they do to their 'patients' when testing, evaluating and working out if the elixir is effective etc??

I wouldn't be surprised if some got seriously ill

Or maybe worse

Do you think they'd do potentially very dangerous procedures like blood-taking, transfusions etc???

I dread to think what happens in the laboratories of that place

The honest answer is that you don't want to know. If I went into all of the gory details, you wouldn't be able to stomach it. What I mean by that is that there is canonically a lot of experimentation going on with the elixir and the effects on has on people. You can assume that to be the case because the Elixir is never the same once.

It has a lot of different ingredients and those ingredients don't always have the same increments in the chemical process. There might be a batch that has one kind of mushroom and then the next batch might overcompensate with a different herb. The game doesn't tell us what is used in the elixir, but the Secret Ending mentions some of what the hospital found to be used in the batches that were found.

Taking that information into account, it was a process of trial and error for her to figure out what was going to be the most useful in building something that could corrupt somebody's mind in between the process of cleansing and mental manipulation.

In Another Story, Saeran is one of the first people to have the elixir used on him, and he himself is a test subject in that regard.

They have no idea what is going to happen to somebody that uses the elixir in the long term. They need to have test subjects because you can't just throw something like this at the wall. No way. Not if you're trying to make sure the people live after they take it. The key point is making sure that believers survive the elixir and you don't know what is and isn't safe until you test it.

They're not testing it for safety, they are testing it to figure out what is just the most that they can use on somebody before it's too much. I should also point out that the average believer isn't taking as much elixir, as say, Ray, Saeran, or Unknown. The reason why they take so much of it is because Rika is trying to keep a lid on them. But, for a believer that is just average? They're not drinking an elixir that often in Mint Eye.

They're taking it bi-weekly, at least, that's how I write it. Because I personally believe the only time the Believers actually consume Elixir is during religious ceremonies. Since Mint Eye is based on her bad experience with Catholicism, I imagine that Rika holds services on Wednesdays and Sundays.

The elixir is given out like communion wafers and wine. They take a small sip of elixir twice a week. However, if you are going through the initiation ceremony or you are being cleansed, you are consistently being tortured non-stop with a bottle of elixir. Now, what does that mean for the basement test subjects? Well, that's quite simple when it comes down to it.

Test subjects are believers that have gone against the group to the point where she doesn't intend on letting them get out so they can be used up until they die. I also imagine if anybody had the misfortune of stumbling onto Mint Eye through a trip through the mountains and was at the wrong place at the wrong time, they’re kidnapped into the basement for elixir testing.

Now, testing is a broad category that I can't exactly get into because there is a lot of work that would go into that, but I can say that it's uncomfortable and not something that you should mess with inside your head if you want to stay sane.

The point is, you should never know what it's like to be a test subject, because you don't want to end up down there. The elixir is what she's focused on getting tested. What that means is... different depending on how you want to imagine Mint Eye. It could mean taking a lot of a person's blood, a huge surgery, or drug trials. There's really no way to know.

#ask #character analysis #mystic messenger #mm #mysme #mysticmessenger #mint eye #mod kait #anon