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milkiane · 2 years

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I WAS MADE FOR LOVIN' YOU. eddie munson.

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summary: the four times eddie knew he was a goner and the one time he told you.

warnings: no spoilers! don’t worry, you’re safe here. profanities. gif credits to @his-name-is-ed <3

word count: 5.1k

i. the first time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he found out that you love mötley crüe.

eddie knows his presence is hard to miss. aside from his wild hair and clothing choices, which apparently do not fit the social standards, he makes it exceptionally difficult for people to ignore him.

and yet, on a particular, normal, chilly friday in the school field, you effortlessly grab his attention. you didn’t need crazy hair or seeking clothes or loud eccentric speeches on top of a cafeteria table. you’re just… sitting there with a frown on your face and eddie thinks…

eddie can’t think. his mind draws blank as he continues to stare at you.

so like dominoes, his abrupt stop results in the rest of the hellfire club bumping into him, which causes a streak of groans and complaints, but eddie pays them no mind because as if his legs have a mind of their own, they bring him right to you. “carry on without me, my little sheep, destiny awaits!”

you groan in annoyance, slamming your hand onto your malfunctioning walkman. “stupid, stupid, little shi-”

“y’know, i don’t think mauling the poor thing will make it work.”

you look up at the voice with a glare, your face softens just a bit after seeing it was eddie, but the glare prevails nevertheless, still frustrated with your walkman.

“i mean, sure, i guess that could make it work, too,” eddie shrugs, hopping on top of the picnic table instead of sitting on the benches like a normal person.

“it will work,” you grit your teeth, hitting the side of the device as it did nothing to fix the distorted voice of vince neil. “it just needs a bit of tough love.”

after watching you for a few more minutes with an amused smile, eddie snatches it out of your hands, convinced that you would break it if it doesn’t revive the next second. he ignores your objections as he opens his black metal lunchbox.

“it’s not a lunchbox,” he absentmindedly retorts to your murmur as he goes through his things, silently muttering a quiet no, not this, nope, what the hell is this? and finally, aha!

he raises a mini screwdriver before you as if it will magically take your problems away. “this, my lady, will magically take your problems away.”

huh.

you hesitantly watch as eddie pops open your walkman, taking out the mixtape to find the tape itself burst out of its case. he tinkers and meddles with it carefully, doing wonders as he manually rewinds it.

you use his current distraction to take a good look at him. you’ve seen him around the school; in class, in the hallways, at the cafeteria, but you’ve never crossed the borders of his personal bubble or actually spoken to him until now.

he isn’t a bad sight to see.

his hair, although gone rogue, looks so soft that you physically have to restrain yourself from touching it. he has tattoos inked on his skin, slightly covered by his hellfire shirt as if teasing you and leaving you wanting to see more. beautiful silver rings graced his fingers making you want to study each intricate detail that embellished the jewelry.

his tongue is poking out of his lips, brows furrowed in concentration. his nose is slightly crooked as if it’s been broken before. he has dimples piercing his cheeks and the lightest of freckles sprinkled over his face, only noticeable if kissed under the sun.

all things considered, eddie munson is a sight for sore eyes.

“are you done staring, sweetheart?” eddie teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “if you’d like, i can pose for you on this table.”

you were too deep in your reveries that you didn’t notice he was done. you blink up at him and scoff. “shut up, i wasn’t staring.”

“it’s fine, y’know, it’s normal to stare at pretty things.” he encourages you, satirically playing with his hair. “especially if you’re one of those connoisseurs of art.”

“wow, someone learned a new word today.” you praise him sarcastically.

“now, now, y/n, is that a way to treat someone who just fixed your lil walkman?” eddie chastises, grabbing your headphones from your neck and putting it on his ears. “what were you listening to anyway?”

he gives it a few seconds before the familiar music comes in. he whips his head towards you with a slack jaw. he winces, his hand coming in contact with his neck, massaging the pain from snapping his head towards you too fast.

… i've been a poet always tongue in cheek,

i've seen some scenes man you'd never believe,

and like a supercharged rocket ride,

you know they'd have gasoline if they had the time.

“you- you listen to mötley crüe!” eddie blurts out, standing on the picnic table and pointing an accusatory finger at you. “you’re one of us!”

“shut up!” you pull him back down with a yank. you can still hear angela blasting through your headphones. you look at him with a sigh before muttering. “i love mötley crüe.”

eddie lets out a choked laugh, jumping off the table and squishing your cheeks with his hands. “you’re a cute little metal freak!”

“shut up, munson! you better get your hands off my face or so help me god.”

it came out as gibberish but the point came across.

“you say ‘shut up’ too much, is that your favorite word?” eddie calls into question, leaning closer to you with a roguish grin. his gaze flickers down to your pouting lips before staring straight into your eyes. “i can teach you more ways to shut me up, y’know?”

“scout’s honor that it’s even more efficacious than the words itself.” he winks at you before grabbing his lunchbox, leaving you bewildered and baffled beyond belief. mötley crüe did not do anything to blur the forming thoughts in your head.

that was strike one for eddie munson.

ii. the second time eddie knew he was a goner was when… you knocked someone out cold with a box of frozen waffles.

you shouldn’t have been out at an ungodly hour, quite frankly, but you really, really, wanted some eggos. so clad in sweats and an oversized shirt, you walk out of bradley’s big buy with three boxes of mini waffles in hand.

and as if the universe wasn’t satisfied with only one interaction, you hear eddie munson’s voice. “hey, come on, man. you’ve been my client for over a year now and you’re only doubting me now?”

“we talked about fifteen grams, munson, so i’m expecting fifteen grams.”

eddie sighs, rubbing his tired face with his hand. they’ve been going back and forth and he was starting to get annoyed. he wasn’t even supposed to be dealing right now, but when money calls, you answer it.

“look, man. it’s fifteen. if you don’t believe me, give me the money, go find a weighing scale, and weigh your shit. it’s fifteen grams.” he says, grabbing his lunchbox, but just as he wrapped his fingers on the handle, he gets shoved to the ground, his things crashing with him, skin scratched from catching himself on the rough pavement.

motherfucker.

“hey!” you didn’t want to. you really didn’t want to, but before you can think twice, you get in between eddie and the ridiculously tall buff guy.

you should really start thinking twice.

said guy, although high as a kite, looks at the box of eggos on the floor and back at you. you had thrown a box of waffles at his head.

“take your fifteen grams and leave,” you order calmly, ignoring the whispers of objections of eddie, who immediately stands up at lightspeed, startled by your sudden presence.

“i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and your little druggy friend, a’ight?” he sneers, pushing you aside to grab eddie by his shirt. “besides, the fuck do you know about packing shit right?”

“i know how to pack a punch, for starters.”

you didn’t give him or eddie to process your words before, CRACK! your fist comes in contact with his nose — a sickening crunch and a cry had them both freezing, well, except for the junkie clutching his nose.

“you bitch!”

with the throbbing pain of your knuckles, you could only whack him across his face with the box of waffles in your hand as he leaped to get you.

eddie, still frozen in his spot, can only watch in both horror and amazement as the guy gets knocked out cold, face kissing the sidewalk.

“holy shit…”

“how much did he owe you?” you huff, clutching your victimized hand as you stand over the guy.

“twenty.” he blinks.

you shrug, digging a hand in the jean pocket of the junkie and placing the crumpled bills in eddie’s hand. “twenty-five for being a shithead.”

eddie took you out for some ice cream treat after that.

“remind me to never get on your nerves, you scare me,” he said, but there was no real fear behind his words, just a twinge of wonder in his voice and a sparkle in his eyes.

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to, so you just grinned at him before taking a scoop out of his ice cream.

and at that moment, under the moonlight with frozen waffles aiding your knuckles and discarded ice cream cups on top of his van, eddie just knew that you would stick around.

and the rest was history.

that was strike two for eddie munson.

iii. the third time eddie knew he was a goner was when… traces of you were slowly starting to bleed into his life, and he didn’t mind.

“is this… MADONNA?”

eddie snaps his head towards the curly-headed boy in his passenger seat, eyes widening at the sight of the manifold of mixtapes that sits on dustin’s lap.

he splutters incoherent excuses as he chucks them back into his glovebox, a hand still on the wheel as he tries to keep the van steady.

dustin watches in amusement as eddie fumbles with the mixtape that fell from his grasp. he snatches it out of his mentor’s hand and snickers, “wow, abba, too? didn’t know you were such a pioneer of music, eddie.”

eddie thwacks him with the d&d gazette before turning his eyes back on the road. “those aren’t mine.”

it was his. you left it for him.

dustin squints his eyes at his friend as if staring at him like that will force him to tell the truth, and it almost did, but thankfully, he chooses to go through the mixtape-filled glovebox again instead.

you brought half of your mixtapes with you when eddie had asked you to accompany him on a spontaneous road trip out of town one day. he always looks back to that moment.

you were passionately talking about the songs that graced your diverse music taste, hands animatedly moving around as words spew out of your mouth every millisecond. he understood every single thing you said, though.

just because you love mötley crüe doesn’t mean you don’t love starship. you love kiss but you also love the beatles. you love metallica but you also love bee gees, and maybe he was starting to like it, too.

if you ask eddie, he’ll choose cyndi lauper’s time after time as his slow dance song. absolutely irrelevant yet very relevant.

“why the hell are you smiling like a crazy man?” dustin pokes his cheeks, effectively snapping him out of his daydream.

eddie slaps his hands away from his face.

aside from mixtapes in his glovebox, eddie also has a special drawer with the clothes you often leave at his house, and with the best detergent he has – a discounted brand from a dollar store – he voluntarily washes it for you to wear next time.

“did… did you wash my clothes?” he remembers you asking the first time.

he turns away from his notebook to look at you. “uh, yeah. you left some of your stuff here and i decided to include it with mine last wash day.”

“oh,” you beam, pulling the material to your nose and breathing it in. “thanks, babe.”

eddie ignores the warmth of his cheeks and goes back to doodling in his notebook. “‘course, would you like me to wear a maid outfit while i’m at it next time?”

you laugh. “i’d like that very much.”

you bring the soft fabric back to your nose, it smells just like him.

you start leaving more clothes in his room after that.

that was strike three for eddie munson.

iv. the fourth time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he wanted to be the best version of himself whenever you’re around.

“okay, so i have a bag of those honeycomb cereal you like, some pringles, juice boxes, pints of ice cream…”

as you continue to list off the snacks you brought for the d&d campaign with the boys, eddie leans forward to buckle your seatbelt, letting you catch a whiff of his cologne. he tugs it twice to make sure it’s fastened properly. “safety first.”

you pause. “you literally never wear your seatbelt.”

“that’s because i sold my soul to the devil for immortality,” eddie pats your thigh before backing out of your driveway. “and because it will cause a decline in my precious reputation!”

“what, common road safety?” you snort. “do tell, kind sir, what would the great eddie munson be known for?”

“you don’t know?” he scoffs in mock disbelief. “i’m an evil self-proclaimed attention whore – i’m known for a lot of things, sweetheart.”

“speaking of being an attention whore,” you gravitate towards him to sniff him again. “are you wearing a new perfume, munson?”

“sit back down, dumbass! and it’s cologne, not perfume.”

“same shit. are you trying to impress someone?” you tease, settling down back in your seat before letting out an overdramatic gasp. “is it dustin? is it because he’s been hanging out with steve the past week?”

“what? no!” he wavers for a moment before sniffing himself. “why? does it smell bad?”

you laugh. “no, no. i actually like it better than your old one.”

“good, i bought it especially for you.” he winks, turning the volume of the music up before you can even reply.

“i can’t believe erica rolled a d20!” eddie exclaims, packing up the boards.

“and twice,” you agree.

as usual, you and eddie stayed back after the campaign, ushering the kids — and gareth and the group — out of the room as soon as you heard the distant rumble of the sky. you knew they’d be biking home, so you asked them to leave early, much to your best friend’s displeasure.

you pick up the empty chip bags and discarded juice boxes, prolonging the chat you’re having with eddie.

mid-conversation, you lean against his throne, garbage bag in your hands. he was talking animatedly and you’re not quite sure what he’s even talking about anymore.

the lights of the room give him a glow that makes your heart beam. the perfect combination of green, orange, and blue; it makes him look like a fallen angel. a devil in disguise. the right fusion of both.

his eyes are soft, it’s kind. his smile is, too. everything about him is. he doesn’t show anyone, but you always get the opportunity to see a part of him that makes you fall in love with him even more.

“…and then just as i was about to dream of rubbing their loss in their puny little faces — she slaps me with a crit hit! that’s twice!”

“yeah,” you whisper, a gentle smile on your lips. you push yourself off the chair and start helping him around the room. “maybe it’s a sign that you’re getting a bit rusty, buzz.”

“drop it with the nickname! it’s been years and i was only forced to have it shaved after stupid anthony chopped my hair nasty in history.”

you double down in laughter. “and wayne has been so gracious enough to show me the pictures.”

eddie glares at you before running towards you. you only advance two steps away from him before he catches you from behind and pulls you against him.

“salvage yourself, you insolent little minx.”

“no! i shan’t yield!”

giggles escape both of your lips, sounds slowly getting muffled by the drops of rain starting to patter one by one, making you and eddie stop in your tracks.

you exchange wide-eyed glances before hurrying with the packing.

you run out of the building, shoes splashing over the formed puddles, you didn’t even notice eddie shrug his jacket off to shield both of you from the rain.

a few meters from his van, you pull away from him and let the water hit you, dampening your clothes all within a second.

“what the hell are you doing?” eddie shouts over the loud pour.

“come on!” you pull him towards you, cold hands grasping his warm ones, you dance in the rain.

eddie watches you in disbelief, though there’s a smile on his face. “fuck it,” he mutters. “wait here.”

he runs to his van, almost slipping on the wet ground. “i’m okay!”

“idiot.” you snort.

eddie opens the door to the passenger seat and opens the glovebox. he grabs a random mixtape and fumbles to put it in the player, only then realizing that he didn’t even start the van.

a minute or two later of waiting, you hear a bees gees song blast from eddie’s van.

“come on, baby,” he whoops, grabbing your hands as he starts shimmying. “let’s dance!”

you let out a blissful laugh as he twirls you around. you jump around in the puddles, soaked clothes slightly weighing you down from being drenched. you attempt to twirl eddie around, too, which was a struggle due to his height.

he sings along to the song and you gasp in surprise. “you know this song?”

“do i- do i know this song?” he repeats in incredulity. “of course, i do! i’m in-”

adrenaline getting to his head, eddie realizes what he was about to say so he rectifies it. “you only sing it every second of the day. that damn song is engraved in my head!”

he pulls you back against him with a grin, a hand intertwined with yours and another supporting your back. he dips you, and you yelp in surprise.

the both of you are panting from all the dancing, but the smiles never left your face. you stare at his face, he stares at yours. you tuck a wet strand of his hair behind his ear, letting your hand rest on his jaw. he has a light stubble.

his eyes flicker to your lips, you do the same.

should i kiss him? should i not kiss him?

the loud boom of the thunder makes the decision for the two of you. the sound startles both of you, resulting in jumping away from each other faster than the next flash of lightning.

“we should head home if we still want to have this movie marathon,”

“yeah.”

eddie goes over his thoughts for a moment as you adjust the heater of the van. he recollects the resolution he made earlier, pondering over the idea of being the best version of himself though he already feels like he became it the first time he met you. how can one become the best-est best version of themselves?

that was strike four for eddie munson.

but for you… you lost count of how many it’s been because every day with eddie adds a tally to your strikes.

v. the time eddie tells you how he’s a goner for you.

“harrington? fucking harrington?”

“it’s a friendly date, buzz,” you point out, hand steady as you do your eyeliner in his bedroom mirror.

“with harrington?” he stresses, his own hands tugging at his brown locks.

“yes, eddie.” you sigh, it’s been a repetitive back and forth. “it’s not a date date. it’s friendly, as i said. robin will be there.”

he sits up against the wall, lips moving before his brain can process his words. “well, if buckley’s gonna be there then what else does he want with you?”

you pause, dropping your hand to look at him. “okay, ouch.”

“no, i-” he groans dramatically into his hands. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just- i don’t understand why you have to spend a perfectly great night with harrington-”

“and robin.”

“-and robin, when you can just spend it with me.” eddie pouts. he sounds pathetic, he knows, but he’s jealous. what if you decide to leave him for steve? – and although he understands; it’s steve harrington, for god’s sake. he would, too, if he can – life would have no other purpose for him if you do.

“aww,” you mimic his pout, walking over to him to pat his cheeks. “don’t worry, hotshot, you’re still my favorite boy.”

“whatever,” he swats your hands away, though the grin tugging at the corner of his lips persists. he takes his time admiring you properly. you looked gorgeous, as always.

“c’mon, you big baby,” you protested. “robin will be there! plus, you can always come wi-”

“well, why didn’t you say so?” he exclaims, leaping towards the door clad in his hellfire shirt and boxers. “let’s go! we better get goi-”

you throw his jeans at him. “for your modesty.”

eddie was glad he came along. he looks at you with clear fondness, watching as your eyes light up like a child on christmas day. you jump in excitement, dragging him into the fair.

“hey, you made it!” steve jogs towards you, but then his eyes flicker to your company. “…and munson.”

“harrington,” eddie grins, a hint of mischief in the glint of his smile as he bows to him.

you roll your eyes at them. “where’s robin?”

“right here, lovebug,” she smiles, offering you a pink cotton candy as she takes a bite off the blue one. steve’s mouth slowly falls slack in bewilderment.

“aww, my favorite,” you pout your lips as you clink your sweets like glasses of wine.

“that’s mine!”

“buy your own cotton candy, dingus,”

“you paid for those with my money.”

eddie pays them no mind as they continue to bicker. he snatches a piece of cotton candy as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “i see a kissing booth we can go to… the marriage booth, too, maybe?”

“stop,” you smack his arm. “let’s start with the basketball — eddie, they’ve got those big teddy bears!”

“well, the night is young, sweetheart,”

the night is young, indeed. you go around the fair with the group, steve has the giant teddy bear propped on his shoulders as if it was his child — “he is!” he argued. “his name is harry harrington.”

“harry harrington?” you had asked in incredulity. “that’s a shit name, steve!”

he gasped in mock offense, bringing the bear down to cover its ears. “don’t listen to her, harry, she’s just jealous you aren’t hers.”

eddie’s jealous he isn’t yours, too, but he wasn’t going to say that.

you felt as if you’ve managed to go through every single booth but according to the map robin had somehow snatched, there were more than half of it you have yet to explore.

“c’mon, there’s a ball toss over there,” eddie says, grabbing your arm to drag you away from steve. “gonna win you that giant fucking elephant.”

although as soon as you stop by before it, eddie does a double-take. “six dollars?”

“six dollars.” the merchant confirms.

he looks at you and whispers in disbelief. “six dollars?”

you shrug at him, letting out a chuckle at his expression. “capitalism, baby,”

eddie sighs. he’s glad he brought his wallet with him. he’s willing to spend all of his income if it meant getting you that elephant — and he will.

“we don’t have to, you know,” you reassure him, eyeing him as he reaches out for the dollars. “there’s still a lot of booths we can go to.”

“nah, i’m getting you that elephant.” he slams the money on the counter. the merchant smirks. three balls.

eddie grabs one and exhales. “wish me luck.”

he throws the ball, and again, and then again. and then he slams more money onto the counter, and then again, and again.

his aim’s good, but not enough to knock all the cans down. steve and robin managed to do a round before returning to the both of you with corndogs in hand.

with his promise of a last round, he sighs at the sight of what’s left of the standing cans. he gives you the last ball.

“are you sure?” you hesitate.

“do the honors, my lady,” eddie smiles, eyes so soft that subtle crinkles show at the corners.

and with a swift throw, you somehow manage to knock down all of the cans. you and eddie whoop in excitement, jumping up and down as the merchant sighs exasperatedly, grabbing your oversized prize.

“oh my god,” you whisper, hugging the elephant to your chest. “it’s so fluffy!”

eddie looks at you with a dopey lovesick smile. maybe it was the sparkling fairy lights overhead, or the distant music playing, or maybe it was because you’re practically bouncing off the balls of your feet, a giddy smile adorning your lips… or maybe it was because eddie cannot take it any longer so he says, “i’m in love with you.”

you falter for a bit, uncertain if you heard him correctly. “what?”

and steve, who had initially asked you on a date — although as friendly as he claims — leans against the wooden pillar, face contorting in realization, lips forming into an unmistakable o as he grasps what is happening.

robin grins, a quiet finally! unleashing from her lips. to give you two some privacy, well, as private as a conversation in a public place can be, she drags steve to a very friendly competition of high strikers. steve lets her, sending eddie an encouraging thumbs up.

“i-i’m in love with you,” eddie repeats, voice wavering at your blank expression. he couldn’t read you and it’s making him anxious. “i’m so terribly and undeniably in love with you – i knew i did the moment you said you love mötley crüe.”

you let yourself feel all the emotions bursting in all at once. he likes you. eddie munson likes you, so you ask stupidly, “are you sure?”

eddie scoffs a laugh. “am i- am i sure? are you asking me if i’m sure about my own feelings?”

you shrug.

he looks at you before breaking into a run without another word.

“eddie, where are you going?” you call out frantically.

eddie eyes the haystacks in the center of the park and clumsily mounts on them and nearly falls. he catches himself before he can tumble down. his eyes flicker to yours as he cups his hands over his mouth. “fair people of hawkins, i have an announcement to make!”

“what is he doing?” steve asks as he and robin appear from beside you.

“i have no idea.”

some people stop by to watch, some go on with whatever it is they were doing, and you just stand where you’re planted, unsure of what he’s about to do and what you’re supposed to do.

“i, eddie munson, a self-proclaimed attention whore, have something very important to say.” he starts – “well, get on with it now!” a guy exclaims. eddie ignores him – “i am in love with y/n l/n. i’ve been in love with her since i found out she loves metal, i’ve fallen for her since she knocked a guy out cold with frozen waffles–”

“frozen waffles?” robin questions.

“– i fell for her even harder when she introduced me to madonna – that’s right, i love madonna! but most importantly, i knew i was a goner when i wanted to become the best version of myself for her. i wanted to become the person she deserves because i am in love with you, y/n, always have.”

you soften and the world disappears around you; it was just you and him. there is an ache in your chest, but not because of heartbreak, it’s because it feels as if it will burst out of your chest out of love.

“we can’t help who we fall for,” eddie breathes out, walking down the stack. “but honestly, i’m glad it’s you because there’s no one else in this world whom i would love to love if it’s not you.”

you shove the elephant in steve’s hold and walk straight to eddie.

he sends you a small smile, arms extended. when you’re a step closer, he whispers. “i’m sorry, i just had to-”

“shut up,” you command, pulling him in for a heated kiss, fingers getting lost and tangled in his hair, his arms snake around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, no gap left unfilled.

your lips dance a fast-paced song, it’s all but intense and passionate – a hint of eagerness and the satisfaction of longing. you forget that it wasn’t just the two of you, that there was a crowd watching you both kiss. you can hear the faint coos of the moms by the corner.

“get a room!” a guy barks out. simultaneously, you and eddie flipped him off but the kiss decelerates into soft and sensual, a contrast to the shared feverish one, now easing up to the feeling of content and delicate love.

you pull away a second later, forehead touching his as you don’t dare to open your eyes yet. “i’m in love with you, too, if it’s not obvious yet.”

“well, i should hope so,” eddie laughs. he gives you a quick peck on the lips before fixing you with a teasing grin. “how about that marriage booth now, sweetheart?”

“take me out on a date first, loverboy.” you interlace your hand with his as you walk away from the spotlight.

“how about a kiss on top of the ferris wheel?” he proposes instead.

“sap,” you scrunch your nose up with a smile. “but i’m not opposed to the idea.”

that was strike ??? for you and eddie.

“just to let you all know, i am not going to sit next to steve on the ferris wheel.”

“what do you mean? i’m an amazing ferris wheel companion.”

“would you like to get shoved off the seat once we’re on top?”

“... how about the bumper cars?”

“deal.”

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denimbex1986 · 6 months

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'Doctor Who showrunner Russell T Davies shares his honest thoughts about how he approached writing David Tennant's Fourteenth Doctor return. In October 2022, the show revealed a shocking twist when Jodie Whittaker's Thirteenth Doctor took on the face of her Tenth incarnation in "The Power of the Doctor." Tennant's return to the role will help celebrate the show's 60th anniversary across three-anniversary specials before Ncuti Gatwa takes the keys to the TARDIS as the Fifteenth Doctor for the 2023 seasonal special, Doctor Who season 14, and beyond.

After the release of the first Doctor Who 60th-anniversary episode, "The Star Beast," Davies sat down with the BTS show Doctor Who: Unleashed. The showrunner stated he had no reservations about Tennant's return despite any potential backlash he could face from the fandom. He then explains that the scenario would allow his regeneration into Gatwa to be unlike anything the series has seen following a slowly unfolding arc across the background of the three-anniversary specials. Check out Davies' full response below:

Oh! I didn’t worry about that for a second. It was just like, so, Jodie Whittaker becomes David Tennant. Once you think that, it’s like, there’s no rules, you can do absolutely everything you want. There’ll be fans complaining about that, “You can’t do that.” Every time someone says “You can’t do that,”, that’s exactly where you should go.

It’s funny, because he’s an old Doctor, he’s played the Doctor before, but this has never happened. The Doctor’s never got his face back before, or her face back before, so that’s fascinating. It’s a plot that runs throughout the three hours of why has this happened, why has this happened, and leads towards the most extraordinary ending, which is a scene we’ve never played before in the whole 60 years of Doctor Who, so, that’s what I mean – New areas, new territory, new thoughts, new lines, new ideas. That’s always the right place to be.

What Do We Know About The Fourteenth Doctor's Familiar Face So Far

The Doctor donning a precious regeneration's face during a new incarnation was one of many mysteries surrounding the possibilities that the concept could hold, alongside other questions, including the mysterious "Brain of Morbius" Doctors and the dark inevitability of the Valeyard (Michael Jayston) from the "Trial of a Time Lord" story arc. First teased in the closing moments of Doctor Who's 50th-anniversary special, "The Day of the Doctor," in 2013, the Eleventh Doctor meets the Curator of the Under Gallery, played by Fourth Doctor actor Tom Baker, who is hinted to be a retired future incarnation of the Doctor many regenerations later. Hinting that the Doctor would revisit "old favorite" faces in future regenerations, other incarnations of The Curator in expanded media include regenerations resembling the Sixth Doctor (Colin Baker) and the Eleventh Doctor (Marr Smith).

However, the circumstances of Tennant's return are shaping to be something outside his future as the Curator. Promotional material for Doctor Who's 60th-anniversary had emphasized the mystery. The question was further doubled down on this in "The Star Beast," as the Doctor speculates whether his familiar face had anything to do with his reunion with Donna Noble (Catherine Tate). However, the episode quickly disproved the theory that he took on an older face to say farewell to Donna when both discovered that her potentially fatal Metacrisis condition had been healed. These developments launched theories about whether Neil Patrick Harris' Toymaker may have meddled in the process.

Classic Doctors returning is a familiar, fondly-loved tradition of significant Doctor Who milestones, but Tennant's latest return has also raised many questions. While some viewers may initially have fears that it is simply a move to cash in on nostalgia, it is clear that Davies has taken steps to avoid falling into such traps. With the showrunner teasing a unique regeneration that takes the show in new directions, Tennant's farewell and Gatwa's Doctor debut will end the 60th-anniversary celebrations with a grand finale.'

#The Star Beast #David Tennant #Doctor Who #60th Anniversary #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #Neil Patrick Harris #The Toymaker #Russell T. Davies #Ncuti Gatwa #Jodie Whittaker #The Power of the Doctor #Colin Baker #Matt Smith #Tom Baker #The Day of the Doctor

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power-chords · 2 years

Text

An idea I have entertained is that Vincent is the guy you call when you’re out of options. When he says to Max, “Take comfort in knowing you never had a choice,” one wonders if this is part of Vincent’s whole marketing scheme, a slight alteration on pre-existing advertising copy. That’s his tagline. Maybe you go to him if somebody else botched the job the first time around, or the timeline is too demanding, the circumstances unusually extreme. Nobody else is up to the task, or would dare to assume that level of risk. He’s your Plan B. (Another eerie echo, the spiel almost rehearsed: “El Gordo got in front of a window, did his high dive… we’re on to Plan B.”)

He comes at a premium. You don’t get to meet him. You don’t get to talk to him. You’ll never know his real name, and even the fake ones are just mononyms, a rotating selection of ominous calling cards. His reputation, or the reputation of the enterprise or the fence who employs him, speaks for itself — he’s the guy who gets it done, and there might be some collateral damage, but there definitely won’t be any loose ends. He’s creative, brilliant, resourceful, and utterly ruthless.

I ran a tally last year on one of the evenings I watched it: Vincent kills 14 people over the course of the movie. (And he’d have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling cab driver!!!) He even killed the one LAPD detective who had clued in on his cute little disappearing act: enlist an unsuspecting cabbie, waste him afterward, and those hapless dimwit cops will just assume the guy went Travis Bickle postal.

A phrase that Michael Mann repeats consistently when describing the antagonists (antiheroes?) in Heat, or the real criminals they were modeled after, is selectively sociopathic. Neil McCauley, for example. The way he refers to Vincent, on the other hand, is distinct: I wanted to present a character whose sociopathy was total. (This is the initial impression we are given, but as the film unfolds, we realize that not even Vincent is 100% of the way there — he’s very close, but there’s a missing piece, a hairline fracture, and it’s what makes him such an interesting and tragic figure.) By Mann’s own account, he would be uniquely suited to such a brutal sub-specialty: murderous fixer-upper who makes your problems go away by any means necessary.

And he and Max are vocational counterparts as much as they are moral and existential foils. Thematically, it fits. If Max is the best (the greatest, the most) at what he does, which is driving a cab in LA… what does that make Vincent? What does the best contract killer do — what kind of skill, expertise, and intestinal fortitude does that job demand? What would make Jason Statham’s eyes linger a beat too long, with curiosity and skepticism, maybe even amusement? (“Really? This is the guy? But he’s so little.” lmao)

But seriously: Mann’s concept of the profession, especially as it pertains to criminality, is one of misdirected or co-opted ingenuity, discipline, and drive. It’s a parallel prison, a cage made of glass and steel; either you can’t see the panes that are boxing you in or you can’t pry open the bars to squirm free. For Max, the cage is his cab, and he doesn’t even know it’s there until Vincent jimmies the lock and slinks in beside him for a night. He says he’ll start a limousine company someday. He’s been saying that for 12 years.

Vincent doesn’t see what his cage is, either. Until one dent materializes in the steel facade. And then another. And another. Max prying around with his conversational crowbar, looking for a way in, insisting there is one; or the kickback from the rounds fired into Daniel at the jazz club, close range, a little too close.

What are you, one of those institutionalized raised guys…? Anybody home…?

To me this is all a trail of breadcrumbs leading to a bigger picture, and it suggests a much grimmer, grislier depth to the backstory we know exists for Vincent, that probably sits in some drawer somewhere in the Michael Mann estate. Don’t talk to me about it, I’m fucking Kermit the Frog over here, screaming internally.

Of course, if my theory holds water, I have to wonder: what happens to a guy like Vincent if he can’t make good on his guarantee? If he doesn’t fulfill his end of the contract, who collects? What collateral has he pledged? Yikes.

#collateral #collateral (2004)#tom cruise #michael mann #jamie foxx #bux watches every michael mann movie

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poetrusicperry · 3 years

Text

A Meddling Friend

charlie dalton one shot

word count: 2,380

warnings: none

notes: soooo i wrote a matchmaker!charlie one shot because i felt like it heh (also there is no way charlie isn’t the best matchmaker around tbh)... here it is (:

A Meddling Friend

When Charlie “Nuwanda” Dalton set out to do something, hardly anything could stand in his way. A meddler by plain terms, Charlie butted his way into any situation, whether he saw a benefit in it for himself or for others. Oftentimes, Charlie’s triumphs would stem from wanting to succeed. In what? The possibilities were endless. He had once convinced his entire chemistry class to fudge their hardest experiment of the year (“Look, the teacher can’t possibly fail all of us; a failure on all of us means gigantic failure on him,” he’d said pointedly), he’d tricked his younger sister into begging their parents for a dog, despite her allergies (when asked about why he didn’t just ask his parents for a dog, he claimed they were much more inclined to appease his sister), and he’d smooth-talked his way into a date to the Ridgeway Junior Prom at a diner in town on a dare (“Now I have a hot date and five bucks from all of you”). His successes were plentiful, and there was no end in sight.

So when Charlie had endured months of secret glances between his best friend, Neil, and Neil’s roommate, Todd (not to mention the awkward, weighted silences and painfully obvious unsaid words), Charlie decided to do what he did best: meddle.

The leaves were in their adolescence on the trees; varying shades of orange and red made campus seem ablaze. Charlie would find himself, on multiple occasions, staring out the window when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. Today was no different– the leaves were beckoning, and Charlie’s eyes sat fixed upon them until he heard his name being called from the front of the room,

“Mr. Dalton?” being at the back of the room, everyone turned in their desks to look at Charlie.

“Yes, sir?” he replied, unfazed. Dr. Hager had begun to go into detail about the question he had just asked Charlie, but Charlie’s gaze was, again, caught. This time, by Todd, who was the only person not looking at Charlie; Todd was looking at Neil. Charlie hadn’t heard a word his teacher had said, more focused on the fact that Todd was gawking at Neil and Neil didn’t even seem to notice. Rolling his eyes at Charlie, Richard Cameron (Charlie’s roommate), raised his hand to answer the question Dr. Hager asked.

“That’s a demerit, Mr. Dalton,” Dr. Hager deadpanned before calling on Cameron. After everyone had turned back around to face the front of the room, Charlie sat forward in his seat, watching Todd, who was still looking at Neil. Upon dropping his pencil, Neil bent to pick it up, locking eyes with Todd on his way back to sitting normally. A smirk played on Charlie’s face when Todd’s face flushed as he turned back toward the front. And Charlie couldn’t help but notice that Neil’s cheeks had also turned slightly cherry-colored as his eyes darted back to his notes. Charlie sat smugly back into his chair and began to hatch a scheme in his head. If he could just get them to admit their feelings for each other, the world would be a better place.

A few weeks prior to the day, Charlie had caught Neil drawing a heart around Todd’s name in the margins of a trig textbook. A few days before that, Todd had read an original poem out loud in their English class that was so clearly about Neil it was painful (“Richest coffee eyes / That paint the stage wonderful”).

Charlie didn’t dare bring up the subject with any of his other friends, but once alone with Neil after Chemistry, he began to work his magic.

“What’s bugging you?” he asked Neil, nudging him slightly as they walked down the hallway.

“What?” Neil returned, confused.

“You dropped your pencil during chem. I’ve never seen you do that. So that either means you were distracted by something, or you were falling asleep, which means you haven’t been sleeping well because you’re stressed out. Which is it?” Charlie prodded, looking at his friend as they continued down the hall, “Come onnnnn, Perry,” he goaded, elbowing Neil, who sighed in exasperation.

“It’s nothing, Charlie,” Neil groaned, adjusting his books in his arms and casting a nervous look at Charlie.

“Lie to anyone else, Neil. Anyone else but me. It’s just embarrassing at this point,” Charlie smirked, “And offensive.”

“It’s just… the play. It’s hard to memorize without help,” Neil sighed before turning to Charlie, “You could help? Do you want to help me, Charlie?” Neil said excitedly. Bingo, Charlie thought.

“I’d really love to, Neil, but I’ve got some Latin stuff with Meeks for the next few days,” Neil sighed, “I do, however, know someone who can help you,” Charlie finished, pleased with himself.

“Who is it?” Neil cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if you know him, but I’ll just tell him to meet you somewhere tomorrow? What time?”

“How do I know this guy isn’t crazy?”

“Again, I’m hurt. You don’t trust me to put you into good hands?” Or Todd’s hands, Charlie thought, laughing to himself.

“Of course I trust you, Charlie, it’s just… I don’t know, I’m stressed out, and my father is all over me, I just need some help. If you know someone who can help, I’m more than willing to accept. I don’t mean anything bad by my reactions, I promise.”

“I know you, don’t, Neil,” Charlie clapped Neil on the back, “At the dock, tomorrow at 4. He’ll be there,” he looked at Neil, “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise,” Charlie smiled as they made their way onto the landing of the boys’ floor.

After parting ways with his friend, Charlie bursted the door to his own room open, startling Cameron, who was sitting at his desk studying.

“Jesus, Dalton, you scared me half to death,” Cameron clutched his chest.

“Sorry, darlin’,” Charlie smirked, jumping into bed (with his shoes still on). He turned onto his back and put his hands behind his head, crossing his outstretched legs.

“Can you look at this trig, see if it makes sense?” Cameron asked, holding his textbook up to Charlie.

“At any other time, any other day, and in any other circumstance, I totally would, but I have some things to plan. Sorry, Cameron,” Charlie shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Come on, Charlie. I rarely ask you for help, and the one time I do, you won’t do it?” Cameron groaned. He opened one eye at the redhead across the room.

“Trust me when I tell you, the thing I’m planning is a lot more important than trig,” Charlie shot Cameron a knowing look, then closed his eye again, beginning to visualize and scheme as his roommate huffed a sigh and turned back around to his desk.

The following day brought giddiness for Charlie; he’d gotten Neil committed to going down to the docks, now he just needed to get Todd alone. The only thing Charlie was still figuring out was how. Todd was the biggest introvert Charlie knew.

Charlie’s proclivity for picking up on the ins and outs of his best friend had led to having more insight into Todd as well. Todd Anderson was new to Welton this past fall. And he was Neil’s roommate, so by association Todd had slowly, but surely (and slightly excruciatingly) joined Neil and Charlie’s friend group. He mostly listened and watched, but always sat near (although not too near) Neil when they were hanging out.

Since they were kids, Neil had always been personable; every new thing he learned about a person, would be spun in a positive way, even if the trait was inherently “bad.” He and Charlie would spend hours talking about people, but not in the “let’s gossip” kind of way– they both found a lot of intrigue in the general population. Even as children they were constantly surveying their peers in a way normal children wouldn’t. When Neil had met Todd, it was no different; he would go on about his sandy-haired roommate for ten minutes straight without taking a breath. Why Todd had transferred schools, where his family is from, what kinds of activities he liked. Charlie found the answers to these questions interesting, but perhaps nothing was more intriguing to him than the fact that Todd had willingly shared all this information with Neil. From what Charlie had experienced, Todd was not a talker, and would rather sit in a painful silence for hours on end than open up to the friend group or start a conversation… but he was doing so with Neil. Granted, Neil asked a lot of questions, but Todd seemed comfortable enough around him to share. That was the first thing Charlie noticed between the two of them, and the catalyst that had sparked Charlie’s master plan of getting them together.

After breakfast, which entailed a small conversation about Playboy models, gross scrambled eggs, and of course, a silent Todd, Charlie hung back to catch the boy before he slipped away to the dorms before class.

“Hey, Anderson!” Charlie called, jogging after him. Todd looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“H-hey Charlie, what’s up?”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“Um, s-sure?”

“I’m meant to help out one of my friends with his poem later, but I have Latin tutoring with Meeks, and I figured since you’re so good at it, you could meet with my friend to help him out?”

“I… I don’t know, Charlie,” Todd knitted his eyebrows at the idea of meeting and talking to who he thought was a perfect stranger.

“It’d really mean a lot, Todd,” Charlie pulled his most innocent face and looked at the boy in front of him. Todd was quiet still, “Listen, if you really don’t want to, it’s no sweat. I just figured I’d ask you since you’re so good at writing,” Charlie smiled small, not wanting to push Todd that far.

“I… um, no I-I”ll do it. Where?”

“Ah, Todd you’re a lifesaver! It’s 4p.m. at the dock. You’re sure you want to?”

“Yeah, just… tell your friend I’ll be there,”

“I will, thank you!” Charlie called, backing away from Todd and turning away to head to class. I won’t be telling anyone a thing, Charlie grinned to himself, feeling pleased.

When the clock read 3:56, Neil began to get nervous. No one had shown up. Was Charlie pulling his leg? I’ll give them five more minutes, Neil thought, sitting criss cross on the dock and twiddling his shoelace between his fingers. His “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” script sat on his lap, frayed edges and all.

4:04, Neil sighed, looking at his watch. Just as he was calling it curtains for Charlie’s friend, Todd, flush-faced and sweaty, was making his way over to him. He was looking down at his shoes, careful not to stumble,

“H-hi, sorry I’m late, I got stuck in the dining hall behind–” he looked up to see a confused Neil. Neil’s disorientation spread to Todd’s features, “Neil?” he whipped his head around both ways to make sure someone else wasn’t coming.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Neil stood up from the dock, dusting off his pants and clutching his script apprehensively.

“I… um, I’m supposed to meet… Charlie’s friend… he needs help with–” Todd trailed off, looking at Neil quizzically– “Wait, w-what are you doing here?”

“I’m… supposed to meet Charlie’s friend… he’s supposed to help me rehearse lines…?” Neil’s voice upticked at the end of the sentence, confusion prevalent between the two of them.

“Wait, you’re supposed to meet Charlie’s friend, a-and I’m supposed to m-meet Charlie’s friend, too?” Todd shook his head, unbelieving. Neil’s face changed on a dime, a green light going off over his head.

He smiled slightly and huffed a laugh, “I think we’ve been made, Todd,”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I think we’re meeting… exactly who we’re supposed to be meeting,” Neil blushed, looking at Todd, whose cheeks were rosy from rushing over to the dock (and probably at the situation, too).

“We’re… you’re the friend that needs help with poetry?”

“Todd, I think Charlie meant to get us here alone…” Neil looked to Todd, fidgeting even more with his script.

“W-well why would h-he do that…?” Todd chewed his bottom lip. Neil shut his eyes, almost as if the next thing out of his mouth would cause endless pain. He breathed an unsure sigh,

“Because,” he swallowed thickly, looking at Todd, “Charlie knows I have the biggest crush on you, and this was his way of making me make a move,” Neil’s cheeks were a deep crimson.

“You have a-a crush o-on me?” Todd gestured to himself, bewildered. Neil grimaced and nodded, squeezing the script tighter than before, averting his eyes, “Oh…” Todd’s eyes widened slightly as he looked around them once again, “I… are you sure?” Neil sighed again and sat back down on the dock.

“Yep,” he looked at his hands, the script clutched tightly between them, “I’m sure,” he sounded tired all of sudden. Todd stayed frozen for a few seconds before he trudged over to Neil’s slumped body and sat down carefully beside him.

“I guess Charlie’s g-good at this thing, then,” he laughed incredibly lightly.

“What do you mean, why?” Neil cast a glance up at Todd before looking away again.

“I don’t know… b-because I like you, too,” Todd mumbled.

“What?” Neil looked at him again, not daring to turn away this time.

“I like you… t-too,” Todd’s volume stayed the same. Neil raised his eyebrows, his eyes searching Todd’s.

“Really? This isn’t some prank that Charlie is pulling? You’re being serious?” Neil interrogated, his hands still wrapped around his script. Todd just nodded, earning a huge grin from Neil. Silence fell over the pair and their newly learned information, but when Todd spoke, his conviction surprised even himself.

“So can I help you read lines?” Neil’s smile was vibrant.

“I think I’d love nothing more.”

Charlie watched from his dorm window, smiling as the two boys sat down to read lines. He climbed down off of the windowsill and dusted his hands off, another victory in the books.

#charlie dalton #anderperry #todd anderson #neil perry #angelina writes #dead poets society

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thenightling · 3 years

Text

Why the cast list probably should say “Morpheus” instead of “Dream”

(Yes, I’m posting a shouting-at-the-wall argument to Netflix even though the show isn’t even out yet. I’m tired and cranky. En garde!)

The audio drama of The Sandman lists the protagonist as “Lord Morpheus” yet The Netflix live-action series of The Sandman lists the protagonist as “Dream.” Both are technically correct however he really, really, should be listed as Morpheus. And here’s my argument as to why.

SPOILERS FOR THE SANDMAN COMICS UP AHEAD!

SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!

When Morpheus “died” (I still say he’s spending his afterlife as a dream entity in Hob’s mind) Daniel became the new aspect of Dream to take his place.

Dream of The endless is an entity that is best compared to a giant jewel. Each facet is a persona, an incarnation that can act autonomously, but is ultimately just a piece of the greater whole.

Daniel becomes Dream of The Endless however there is one name he does not take...

He refuses to answer to the name Morpheus. “Not Morpheus. I have no right to that name. I am Dream of The Endless: It is enough.”

Morpheus was as close as our protagonist got to having a true name. It was how Rose Walker was able to call out to him for help when she was nearly raped by Funland.

It was the one name Daniel did not inherit from him. It was the way to distinguish between the different aspects of Dream. Though both Daniel and Morpheus are aspects of Dream of The Endless, Morpheus would never answer to Daniel and Daniel would never answer to Morpheus.

When they released Plushies of the two of them it was how they were distinguished from each other: “Morpheus & Daniel.” (Damn you, DC for constantly teasing the notion of them co-existing as rulers of The Dreaming! Anyway...)

Yes, he answers to many names but Morpheus was a distinction specific to that aspect of Dream, just as Daniel is specific to the other aspect of Dream.

I suspect the show’s protagonist will be referred to as Morpheus a few times, probably by the likes of Lucifer, but the fact that the audio drama has him listed as “Lord Morpheus” but Netflix has him listed as “Dream” has already caused some annoying and unnecessary issues in the fandom.

Over on Twitter I already had to explain to someone that it’s the same character. “Then why is the Audible one listed as Lord Morpheus and this Netflix one is Dream? Wouldn’t they have the same name on the cast lists? It can’t be the same character.”

Imagine if the Good Omens audio drama listed Aziraphale as Aziraphale and Crowley as Crowley but on the Amazon Prime one it was Angel and Demon on the cast list. Technically correct but unnecessarily confusing.

Part of me dreads that the real reason he’s listed as “Dream” on the cast list is some meddling executive doesn’t want the character “confused” with the Matrix character also named Morpheus, much like some of those awful scripts for the Sandman that circulated in the 90s. Please, please, don’t idiot proof. This feels like idiot proofing.

Frankly, I’m tired of the Matrix character being the only search result when you do an image search for “Morpheus.” The Matrix character was named for the lord of dreams, so he shouldn’t have automatic first dibs on it just because the Matrix franchise wants to do a revival. That’s not fair.

End of rant.

Update:

An update on this is the fact that Neil Gaiman explicitly calls him Morpheus in the Behind the scenes video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fK-Bl7gZ9s8

I strongly dislike that the main character is credited as Dream on the Netflix show but Morpheus in The Sandman audio drama. This particular aspect of Dream is Morpheus. It’s why Daniel will not use the name when he becomes Dream of The Endless. And calling him Dream in the Netflix credits and Morpheus in The Sandman audio drama can only serve to confuse people who are new to Sandman and don’t automatically click that Morpheus and Dream are the same character.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fK-Bl7gZ9s8

youtube

Even on the behind the scenes video Neil Gaiman calls him Morpheus, because that's who he is. Neil always calls this version of Dream by Morpheus.

#Morpheus #Dream of The Endless #The Sandman #Sandman #Netflix #Netflix's The Sandman #Netflix's Sandman #Tom Sturridge

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weclassygirl · 4 years

Text

𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟒

Word count: +3k

Pairing: neil x reader (tenet)

Warnings: not much, some bullet wounds

Author’s note: welcome to the last part of the miniseries! idk why but i feel like this part is quite dull, the reason for that is cause i didn’t want to meddle much with the inversion here so that it stays somewhat logical to what i had in mind. hope you enjoy it nonetheless. take care love! <3

Previous part (x)

Gif credits (x)

“You don’t trust them.” you say right off the bat, your future self scoffs at you and with every passing second you begin to notice how much you're different from her. She's much more serious, you can feel that something happened to her in the future. To you.

"Of course not." she responds with a sly smirk. You tilt your head at her answer.

"Then why do you work for them?" you hear Neil ask her from beside you. You see that he’s sceptical about her even after you told him she was telling the truth.

"I didn't have a choice in that matter." she tells you, her voice soft and angry at the same time. She seems like she wants to say more but chooses not too. You feel that, she’s you after all. You decide to ask a question that’s been bugging you since the moment you laid your eyes on her.

“What happened?” your voice as quiet as a whisper. She knows what you mean and hangs her head down. She sighs and looks up at you, your own eyes staring back at you.

"I got lost on a mission once, they found me, offered me a job. I was already in the business and didn’t have anywhere to go so I thought that I wouldn’t be good for anything else… but didn't know that not all of them are good." she tells you, her voice carries through the space between you. Neil listens by your side, waiting patiently for her next words. "They started looking for the algorithm a few months ago and they circled back to that site. They knew I was there, that I had it, they just needed to know where it was exactly." she finishes with a whisper. You can see that that memory doesn’t belong to any pleasant ones. She almost feels… guilty about it. As if she was the one that gave them the algorithm on the silver platter.

"So we'll be probably expecting them there." Neil acknowledges and you briefly look in his direction.

"Yeah." she says and the tranquility fills up the air. Before any of you try to say something to fill up the silence hanging in the room you hear a knock at the door. Neil’s hand goes immediately to his gun and so does your future selves. You look towards the door and walk up to them and look through the peephole. Ives is outside.

You turn to Neil and mouth to him that he’s standing in front of the door. He urges your other version to hide and comes up to you. Neil opens the door and you look towards the living room, seeing that your future self is still there, out in the open. Before you get a chance to shield her from Ives’ sight he already points his gun at her. She does as well.

You stand between them and raise your arms up. “Don’t shoot!” you tell Ives. His grip on the gun doesn’t loosen up. His eyes sharp, trained on your other self standing behind you.

“What the hell?” he questions. Your future self tenses up at his voice, her hand gripping the gun tighter. “She’s-”

“Her. From the future.” Neil informs Ives from behind him. You step in closer and put your hand on his gun, lowering it down. He’s reluctant at first but gives in, but he does not let his guard down. You turn to your other self and nod at her to lower her gun too. She does so without questioning.

"You better have a damn good explanation for this." you turn to Ives, anger building up in his eyes. All of you sit down and explain the situation. Your future self, Tenet, the algorithm. Ives listens carefully, side glancing your future self from time to time. As you and Neil finish explaining he leans back and sighs. He runs his hand down his face and finally turns to the other you.

"So… you know what will happen." Ives states. Your other self stares at him, her features not changing. She still keeps that cold composure you've now used to seeing.

"Briefly. I just hope that I can change it so that my future, the future world doesn't end up like how it did for me." she only explains. Ives only nods and stands up from his seat.

"We'll go to the site tomorrow. Briefing at dawn, so be there." he orders and turns to leave the room.

"What about her?" you ask. "How will we explain this situation to the rest?" he turns to you from his place in front of the door.

"We don't. She probably already knows where the algorithm is so she'll be with you on the team." he only says. Neil shakes his head from beside you, all of you see that action.

"I don't think it's a good idea." you hear Neil say. "What if they touch by accident? We can't risk it."

"Then what do you propose?" Ives wonders. Neil looks between you two and sets his eyes on you.

"I'll go with (Name), you'll go with her future self. You can keep an eye on her too since you seem that you don't trust her." Ives thinks for a moment, his eyes traveling from Neil to the both of you. He sighs in defeat.

"Fine. We won't go in separate teams so find her some blue patch so that we know it's her." he says and leaves the room, your eyes following his figure.

"What if others question why she has a blue patch?" you ask suddenly. Neil only shrugs.

"We can always tell that we ran out of the red ones. Don't worry, everything's gonna be alright." he reassures you, you nod at him. Your future self watches both of you intently, a small smirk appearing on her face but quickly vanishes.

"Do you really know where it is exactly?" Neil asks her. She hums in confirmation and goes over to the couch. She spreads out on it and covers herself up with a blanket.

"You guys should rest. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow." she only tells you before she closes her eyes, her breathing slowing down as she falls asleep. Neil and you go to your rooms and do the same, you reassure him that she won't do anything that would endanger them. You see that she really means well, you know her. She's you after all.

The next day all of you get ready to leave the hotel to go to the site. It's dawn when you arrive at the spot far away from the designated place. The algorithm was spotted at the edge of Ukraine in a small abandoned village. The whole site is covered in dust, the team is wearing the red patches on their arms and you keep a blue one in your pocket to give to your other self later. Ives goes over the briefing, telling that all of you will go as one team, already expecting the enemy on the grounds.

After the meeting you go to the other tent where your other self is hidden. Neil gives her the blue patch you gave him, not risking accidentally touching. Ives joins you a few moments later.

"Ready?" he asks. You look between the two and nod, all four of you put on the masks and leave the tent to join the others. All of them already try to spot the enemy but see none. They decide to move.

After the few first steps the shots fly under your feet. All of you split into various teams and fire at the enemy. You hide behind the wall when some bullets come in your direction, Neil hides on the other side. He looks towards the field and quickly ducks as the opponent attacks. You nod at him, silently telling that you'll cover him. He moves from behind the wall and runs through the field, you peak out from your cover and shoot at the men in white gear. When the area is cleared you run up to Neil and look around.

You see others running and firing at the enemy. In the distance you see a small blue patch on a person's arm. Your future self runs alongside Ives through the field. They seem to be working with each other like a well oiled machine and it makes you wonder if she worked with Ives before. You hear an explosion in the background and briefly look behind you. One of the men threw a grenade at the building and some of its parts fell onto your team. You have an urge to go there and help them but know you have to follow the mission plan. Before you move from your spot you see people coming up from the fallen debris.

Neil and you run to the clearing, far away from the battle ground. It's quiet here, no one in sight. Both of you move slowly, aiming the guns in every direction as you step closer to the hole. As you near it you feel a piercing pain in your leg and hear Neil yelling too, feeling the pain in his arm. You fall onto the ground and aim in the direction from where the bullet came but the person responsible is already next to you, punching you even further onto the ground. Neil moves to aim his gun at him but he kicks it out of his hand and punches in the face. You try to get up and see a faint figure coming up from behind the man in white.

Your future self aiming her rifle at you.

You stare at her with wide eyes as she stands next to the man. She looks at you, the gun pointed directly at you. The man tells her to shoot and she straightens up. You close your eyes and hear a single shot. Your body is shaking but you don't feel any pain aside from the one in your leg. You look up and see the man in white dead on the ground, a bullet hole in his mask and blood covering it from the inside.

You gasp momentarily and try to stand up, she comes up to you to help you but steps back, remembering the unwritten rule. Neil comes up to you to help you lean on him, you do so for a moment before seeing Ives in the distance. He has an angry expression on his face, directed at your future self.

“Save your breath, you can scream and try to kill me later. Let’s just get this algorithm out of here before more of them come here.” she tells all of you. Ives wants to bite back but only sighs and nods. All of you lean over the whole and start to dig from every side, after a few moments you get to the metal box. You take it out and open it to see nine metal elements connected to each other. You look at each other and all go to grab the algorithm but Ives is faster.

As he stands up he holds the gun pointed at your future self. “I believe this is the time where I scream and try to kill you.” he tells her and you step in closer. “Don’t even think of taking another step (Name) or I’ll pull that trigger.” he warns you and you stay still.

“What will happen now? After we hide the algorithm.” he asks her.

She looks at him and raises her chin up. “If you give it to my past self then everything will go as it did in my future and eventually now.” she explains. She turns to you and Neil before switching her attention back to Ives. “I can’t hide the algorithm, ‘cause then they’ll know where it will be. Where it was this whole time.”

Ives seems to be thinking it over and starts splitting up the parts of the algorithm in half. He props up one on his shoulder and gives the second half to Neil. “Hide it well or I’ll hunt you down.” he orders and Neil chuckles. Ives nods at him and starts walking away to the rest of the team, already ordering them to retreat.

Your future self steps closer to the both of you. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“You’re leaving already?” you question her. She nods. “Where will you go?”

She shrugs and looks around. “My timeline. To see how it changed and probably fix it. Now that the algorithm is in safer hands, I’m positive it will be easier to fix it.” she informs the both of you. “And try and stop Tenet and get rid of all the people that try to change the time flow.”

You want to come up to her and hug her goodbye, but know that it may be too dangerous. You gasp as she is the one pulling you into a hug. You freeze at first, fearing the worst but return the hug as you see that nothing wrong happens. Both of you cling to each other for a while before pulling apart. She smiles at you and laughs, you join her, a wide smile on your face.

“Take care, alright?” she tells you, you look towards Neil and then back to her.

“I think I’ll be fine. You, well, me, seems to turn out pretty good.”

She smiles and turns to Neil briefly. They don’t say anything but it looks as if they know what they want to say to each other. Your future self begins to walk away and you follow her figure as she disappears behind the buildings.

You go back to Neil and look at the algorithm in his hands. “How long will you take it to hide it?”

“I don’t know. Few weeks? Months maybe?” he responds. They stand in the clearing not speaking up. Everyone already left, but you’re pretty sure that Ives will send some kind of chopper to pick you up. There’s one question that still lingers in the back of your head.

“Why did you choose me?” he smiles at her question. Sometimes he forgets that you don't know.

“I thought you already figured it out.” he exclaims. You tilt your head at him trying to figure out what he means. You think for a moment before acknowledging it.

“We know each other already, don’t we?” he only smiles and looks down at his feet.

“You told me to find you. To find you at the beginning.” you look at him with wide eyes and start to laugh. Somewhere, deep inside you, you knew that this wasn’t his first meeting with you. You wonder if he was testing you on that, as if the whole meeting was a test from the start. A test set by yourself.

“Did you know that my future version would get lost?” you question further. He seems confused and squints his eyes at the sun peaking through the clouds.

“That scenario never happened to me. I think she was from a different timeline, one where some things looked the same as here, but actions and consequences changed.” he explains and you nod in understanding. You step closer to him, your leg still bleeding and look at the algorithm in his arms. The metal contraptions shining in the faint light of the sun.

You hear a faint sound of the engine and see a chopper coming out from behind the building. Both of you look at each other and Neil wears a sad smile on his face.

“I need to go, Ives probably already left to hide his part of the algorithm.” he says to you. You step closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He returns the hug, clinging to you as if his life depended on it, his arm wrapped around you as the other is still bleeding. He pulls away and begins to turn into the direction of the chopper but you pull him back to you and place a soft kiss on his lips.

The kiss is delicate, as if it’s a fleeting moment between you two that almost feels like a goodbye. You deepen the kiss lightly and Neil leans in even closer, cupping your jaw lightly. Both of you pull away and smile at each other.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“In case something goes wrong and I won’t be able to do that again.” you tell him, your eyes starting to gather faint tears. The thought itself that he might not return to you freightens you. Over the last few weeks you’ve gotten closer to him. You admired him and he you. For him it was like falling in love with you all over again and each moment felt more blissful than the last.

He takes your face in his hands and this time he kisses you, but holds on a little bit longer. He pulls away and wipes a small tear that fell onto your cheek. You smile at him and let him go. He crosses the field to get to the chopper, clutching to his arm, when he enters it he gives you one last look before the door closes. Your eyes follow the chopper flying above the ground and disappearing in the distance.

You hear a honk of a car behind you and turn to see Wheeler behind the wheels. She urges you to get in so that she can take you to the airport. You limp up into the car and for the rest of the drive a faint smile doesn’t leave your lips. You feel deep inside that this is just the beginning of your connection to this hidden reality of the world. To time inversion, to Neil. After all, you did tell him to find you in the beginning, somehow you’re really glad that your future version did.

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professionalfangirl24601 · 3 years

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Tight-Knit Family

Aftg Falsettos AU, in which Wymack is Marvin, Stuart is Whizzer, Abby is Trina, Betsy is Mendel, Kevin is Jason and Andreil are the lesbians from next door.

Betsy adopted Andrew when he was seven. Then after finding out about Aaron and Nicky she adopted them too.

Nathan killed Mary when she tried running away with Neil. Stuart is a very successful businessman who killed Nathan and adopted Neil. The Moriyamas give permission to Stuart in exchange for him helping them for the next ten years.

Stuart does that from England, but after a while they need him in the US. He brings Neil with him since Neil's still a minor and Stuart's his legal guardian and they stay in Millport, Arizona. Neil goes to school there for a year.

Kayleigh went to Wymack with Kevin one day and told him that Kevin was his son. Then she disappeared and no one heard from her ever again. Wymack married Abby because he thought Kevin needed a mom.

Kevin recruits Neil the same way and he agrees right away. They haven't met before and Neil isn't on the run. He's always loved Exy. The reason he didn't resist going to the US was because of Exy.

It's Neil's second year of college, and everything goes more or less the same way, except Andrew never drugs Neil. There's nothing suspicious about him. He doesn't look at Kevin weirdly, doesn't have a large amount of money in his binder or pictures and articles of Kevin and Riko. He owns a normal amount of clothes and stuff.

The fic starts with Wymack and Abby sitting Kevin down and telling him about the divorce. Abby is bisexual and she has internalized homophobia. She says some homophobic things and they tell Kevin that he'll meet Wymack's boyfriend soon.

Kevin is very dramatic about it. He goes to his dorm and rants to Andrew and Neil about it. He's aroace and doesn't understand why people do stupid things, like breaking a perfectly "happy" family, because of love. He's kinda homophobic too like he believes Wymack was straight and whoever his boyfriend is "turned him gay".

His audience isn't impressed, though. Neil knows about Wymack and Stuart and says that Kevin shouldn't say those things, before meeting the boyfriend. Also, he tells him from experience that if there was no love between Abby and Wymack it was better for everyone that they separated.

Andrew says that you can't "turn" people gay. Also, Andrew and Neil are already together at this point, so they're really the worst possible people for Kevin to vent about it.

Kevin meets Stuart the next day and when he realizes it's Neil's uncle, he gets mad at Neil too. He expects Andrew to support him, but he takes Neil's side. He even refuses to give Kevin a ride to the court, let alone play with him to work through his anger.

Wymack goes to Betsy for therapy. He suggests to Abby that she go too since she's (understandably) very upset about the whole situation. Abby goes and she and Betsy hit it off right away.

Betsy is a terrible therapist. Worse than she's in the books. She's based on Mendel, after all. Abby doesn't notice that, though. So after she finds Kevin playing Exy by himself, she tries very hard to convince Kevin to see Betsy too. Kevin agrees only if Betsy goes to the court.

She goes and Kevin is like 'finally here's someone who'll understand me.' He finds out how wrong he was shortly after. Kevin says how he hates everyone, including Andrew. Betsy tells him that Andrew's her son. Then he says some homophobic things and Betsy's like 'I'm lesbian.' It's very awkward.

Kevin tries to find Kayleigh, but Andrew finds out and tells him that if she abandoned him she doesn't deserve to be his mother.

Kevin's therapy sessions continue because Abby forces him to go.

Abby and Betsy fall in love and decide to get married. Wymack gets angry because they're his therapist and ex-wife. Andrew threatens Abby that if she doesn't treat his mother how she deserves, he'll kill her. Betsy's there too and she laughs it off. She says something like 'they're crazy when they're teens, huh?" Abby says "isn't he 20?" and Betsy laughs like it's a joke.

Wymack overhears it and tells Andrew that he can't threaten Abby with death. Andrew replies that it's above his pay grade because Abby's nothing to him anymore. That hits Wymack hard.

Then the winter banquet arrives and Riko tells Wymack about Stuart's real work. Wymack breaks up with him, because a) Stuart's a danger to his team, and b) he feels like he can't trust Stuart anymore like he doesn't know who Stuart is anymore.

Stuart says that his debt will be paid by the summer. But doesn't mention why it exists in the first place. He goes back to England and takes Neil with him. Before they go Neil tells him about how Stuart got involved with the Moriyamas in the first place. Neil also says that Stuart is more helpful than dangerous when it comes to the Moriyamas. When Riko tried to get him on his team, Stuart made him back off.

Wymack starts to regret breaking up with him, but he doesn't have the time to think about it and lets Stuart go.

Kevin notices how similar Andrew and Wymack's behaviors are when their boyfriends are away. He understands that even though he doesn't feel romantic attraction, he still loves his family and friends. And if romance is what makes them happy, he'll do anything he can to bring it back to them.

So Kevin teams up with Neil and they create a plan. They decide that if Neil convinces Stuart to come with him to the US, Kevin will take it from there and get them back together.

It turns out, Kevin doesn't have to work as hard for that to happen as he imagined. He sneaks Stuart where Wymack is, as though he can see Neil playing Exy better. They don't need any more meddling and get back together.

Betsy starts working as a team therapist. Wymack's not too happy about that at first, but then he sees how much she helps with the Foxes, and starts respecting her for that.

Months pass by and their relationships gradually get better. They play the final game against the Ravens. Kevin and Riko didn't know each other until they were already in college and they're just rivals. Kevin is a better striker than Kevin and he's jealous of him. He can't do anything about it, though. Jean plays for the Trojans from the start.

The Foxes win, of course. When Wymack, Abby, Betsy, and Stuart are celebrating with them in the locker room, Riko somehow gets in there. He says something insulting about them, and Kevin stands up to him and defends his family.

#another long post about aftg musical au?#shocking I know #at first i really wanted to name it Unlikely Lovers because *gestures at the ships*#but the story's not about the couples #It's more Kevin centric and the focus is on family instead of romantic love #I don't really ship Wymack/Stuart and Betsy/Abby #but I couldn't imagine andreil in that situation #it's still ooc for wymack abby stuart and betsy but in a more fun way #i mean it doesn't make me cringe #betsy being a therapist like mendel gives me life #like in real life i'd hate it #but in fiction it's funny #and yeah she's not very good but she's what the Foxes need #like in the books #I wish i could write it but I don't have time :(#aftg #aftg fic idea #aftg au #falsettos

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Changes - part ten Word count: ±3300 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part ten: Zoë wakes up in the dark, under ground and finds the victims she was looking for, but will they be able to get out of the grim situation. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: I super excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish and @winchest09 who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

Slowly, Zoë regains consciousness and opens her eyes. Not that it makes much of a difference, she still can’t see a damn thing. A disturbing smell fills her nostrils, a mixture of rotten remains and sewer waste causing her to gag. She wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what is actually causing the stench. She rubs her face and groans, then pulls her hand back. Her fingers feel sticky, she recognizes the substance just by feeling it. The huntress blinks a couple of times in an attempt to drive the splitting headache away, licking her lips and tasting the metallic taste of blood on them. Where the hell is she and what the fuck happened? Tentatively, she explores her surroundings by touch, feeling three walls and eventually prison bars; she’s trapped. Then she hears soft wailing in the distance. “Anyone there?” she calls out. “Y-yes.” Zoë curses internally; shit. Her question is answered by a child. “Are you okay?” Zoë asks, friendly. “No,” she sniffles. “What’s your name, sweety?” “I’m Lizzy--” “-who are you?” A female voice, much older than the young girl she was just talking to, bounces off the concrete walls. “I’m Zoë,” the huntress answers, leaving her false names out this time. “Are you Michelle?” “Yeah.”

Zoë closes her eyes and sighs. It’s Terry Cliffer’s wife, and she’s assuming Lizzy is short for Lisbeth, their daughter. Wild guess her little brother, who she remembers to be three years old from the records, is stuck here as well. The fear and hopelessness is evident in their voices. Who knows how long they have been down here. Damnit, this is even worse than she expected. They are trapped God knows where and if she herself doesn’t even know where she is, the police surely aren't gonna find them either. For a moment, she regrets sending Sam and Dean away. She hates to admit it, but she could use their help right now.

“Are we the only ones in here?” Zoë asks the family. “No.” The huntress peers into the dark, trying to distinguish where the male voice came from. “As far as we know, there are seven of us down here, including the children. But some haven’t responded in a while.” Zoë grinds her teeth, swallowing thickly. Some haven’t responded? She knows what that means. Fuck, she’s too late, isn’t she? “Let me guess; you’re Neil O’Brien?” She folds her fingers around the iron bars and opens her eyes wide, hoping to be able to see some shapes in the pitch dark place. “And the others, Nadia Milton and Cole Richards?” “How do you know that?” Zoë chuckles, finding what she’s about to say rather ironic. “I was looking for you.” “No offence, but good job,” the guy comments. “People are looking for us?!” Zoë hasn’t heard the female voice before, but she knows it’s Nadia. “No, just me,” Zoë corrects, honestly. “Not much hope for us then,” Neil concludes, depressed. “I’ll get us out of here.”

Zoë gets up determined. Her eyes are getting used to the dark, but she still can’t make out faces in the other cells. She takes a bobby pin from her hair, folds it into a lock pick, then begins to work on her escape. “Did you see it?” It’s Neil who asks. The fact that he uses the word ‘it’ indicates that he already realizes that their kidnapper is not human. Zoë decides to tell them the truth. “I fought the bastard,” she corrects, continuing to work concentrated. “You know what it is then?” “Yeah, I know what it is.”

The final pin lines up inside the lock and it springs free. Zoë kicks the iron door open and stumbles out, the slight dizziness catching her by surprise. Thin, fragile beams of moonlight fall through small holes in the ceiling; it looks like the lid of a manhole. Now that her eyes are adjusted to her dark surroundings, she can make out shadows. She’s standing in a small space, cages on either side. She searches the walls, but she can’t see anything that might indicate a staircase or another way out. While she examines the place she woke up in, she answers his question.

“It’s a shapeshifter. A creature that is able to mimic and change into other people, looking exactly like them,” she explains. Nadia whimpers. “This is insane.” “You saw it yourself,” Neil snaps. “Hey, fighting won’t help.” Zoë breaks up the argument before it can even kick off, as she kneels down by the cell across from hers. With the makeshift lockpick, the huntress tries to open the cage which holds the Cliffer family. Lizzy, a girl with messy curls, clamps her tiny hands around the bars while she watches Zoë work. Tears glisten in her eyes, the faint light from above barely catching them. “Are you going to save us?” she whispers. “I’m gonna try my very best, honey,” Zoë returns, smiling softly.

She continues with the task at hand, unlocks the door and moves on to the next cell. While adjusting the bobby pin slightly before testing the spring-loaded pens, it dawns on her what Neil said earlier. “You mentioned there are seven people down here. Who’s the seventh?” “We don’t know. A big guy. He arrived just before you did,” he says.

Flakes of memory fall through the creaks in the roof that is her mind, finally forming a picture of what exactly happened in the hours prior to waking up. She remembers Sam, right before he struck her down. Not the real Sam, of course, but if the shifter took his disguise, then where is the younger Winchester brother? The lock clicks, the barred door opening and freeing the remaining victims from their cages. She turns to Neil. “Where is he?” Zoë asks, sternly. The young guy covered in filth, nods to the side. “In the cell next to yours.”

Without replying, she quickly moves to the cage that accommodates the hunter. Frantically she works the lock. When it busts, Zoë hastens inside and finds Sam on his back, unconscious. She checks his vitals, relieved to feel a steady pulse drum against her index and middle finger. His chest rises under her palm; he’s breathing. When she wipes his hair out of his face, she feels broken skin above his temple; seems like she wasn’t the only one who received a blow in the head. “Sam, can you hear me? Wake up, Sasquatch,” she tries, frustrated. Careful not to shake him or worsen his injuries otherwise, she sits with him, hoping her voice will get through. It takes a while, but eventually he starts to show signs of coming to. “Zoë?” he mumbles, voice raspy. She creates distance by sitting back on her heels. “Yeah, it’s me.” “Did you just call me ‘Sasquatch’?” “Well, you are ridiculously tall,” she scoffs. “Glad I didn’t have to drag your ass out of this place. Could’ve broken a nail.”

The hunter pushes himself up, chuckling at her wit. “Damn, I’m glad to see you.” “Well, don’t be. I’m just as trapped as you are,” she sighs. “You two know each other?” Neil asks from his cell. “Yeah, we’re sort of… colleagues, I guess,” Sam declares, still drowsy. They get on their feet, but the younger Winchester brother has trouble keeping his balance and leans against the steel bars, the huntress stepping in to support him. “Easy. You alright?” Zoë checks. “Yeah, just a headache,” he grunts, trying to chase the black spots from his vision.

“When did that slithering bastard capture you?” she wonders, trying to make sense of the timeline. “I was at Beetle's Bar to back you up, but I guess I got made. It overpowered me right after I parked the car a few blocks away. That's all I remember,” Sam explains. For a second she considers yelling at him for meddling with her case again, but what’s the use? It’s not Sam’s fault he got snatched, the shifter figured it out even before either of them showed up at the bar. She huffs. “Damn, that lizard is sneaky. Where’s Dean?” “At our motel,” Sam admits. “Okay, good. He’s still in town. You’re missing, so he will come and look for you in - what - a few hours, right?” she assumes, hopeful.

Sam steps out into the moonlight. Zoë can see the blood has found a way down the side of his face and turned the collar of his shirt red. She also notices the guilty expression on his face. “Not likely,” he admits. Zoë frowns at the confusing answer, already annoyed. “Why not?” “I was gonna stay out because he had a girl over for the night,” Sam admits. Stunned she stares at him. A girl? She feels the anger building in her chest and takes a moment to collect herself, instead of unleashing her wrath. “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” she hisses, keeping her voice down for the sake of the children. “You’re telling me that Dean is fucking some chick while we’re stuck in this dungeon?” Sam looks up at the lid and frowns. “Actually, this doesn’t seem to be a dungeon. I think we’re in the septic tank,” Sam corrects. Zoë throws him a death glare, stepping closer intimidatingly. Now might not be the best time for the brains of the Winchester operation to better her terminology. “Let me rephrase that. You’re telling me that Dean is fucking some chick while we’re stuck in this shithole!?" “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” Sam admits, smiling awkwardly. “Wonderful.”

She walks back and forth between Sam and the bars, trying to come up with a way to get out, until the soggy and squishy sounds under her feet cause her to halt. Disgusted, Zoë looks down at her boots, realizing all this time she has been standing, sitting and laying in-- “- shit.” She retches and coughs; it does explain the smell. “This is disgusting,” she mutters, needing to get out of the cage when she starts to feel sick. “It gets worse,” Sam adds. “When the shifter attacked me, it looked like you. Good chance that thing used the same disguise to ambush Dean.” Zoë turns her head slowly and stares at Sam, her jaw agape and her eyes wide in shock. “Well, there goes my reputation of a good civilian,” she deadpans.

As their problems pile up, the Cliffer family emerges from their cage, afraid like hunted deer. Lizzy, probably not even six years old, steps into the dim light. The poor little girl looks like she’s about to burst into tears, her dress dirty, her big eyes shimmering. Zoë helps out Michelle, who’s weakened by the days of malnutrition. She has a younger boy by her hand, who is crying silently. Concerned, Zoë exchanges a look with Sam. There's empathy in her eyes, her need to care for the victims evident in them; something Sam hasn’t seen before. He understands, though; they need to get these people out fast, they’ve been through way too much. Sam searches his pockets for his phone. “You won’t find it, he took mine as well as everything else I was carrying,” she discourages.

“Zo, the shifter took my form first, then yours, so it copied our memories. It knows Dean and I were staying at the Deep Purple Inn, room number 301, everything,” he recalls. “If that thing went after my brother, disguised as you...” Sam breathes in slowly and exhales; there’s no need to finish the sentence. Good chances are that Dean is in as much trouble as they are.

While crossing her arms in front of her chest, she brainstorms. They need to get in touch with Dean, or with anyone else in the outside world, but how? There is nothing here that can be used to draw attention and increase their chances of being found. Screams will only carry so far in these backlands. The situation is grim. If the shifter manages to trap or kill Dean, it's a possibility no one will access this property in months, maybe even years. A slow death by starvation might be the only fate that lays ahead. She swallows apprehensively; this is not how she planned to go out.

She looks back at the younger Winchester brother, noticing how something inside one of the cells has caught his attention. “What is it?” He nods at the cage and she peers through the bars, her eyes landing on another victim, collapsed against the wall with his eyes closed. Without hesitation Zoë opens the door, rushes inside and kneels down next to the seemingly lifeless body. The doctor she’s supposed to be surfaces, as she checks for vital signs.

“Pulse is low and he's cold to the touch; he's hypothermic.” She turns to Sam. “Give me your jacket.” He quickly takes it off and hands it over, then watches worriedly how she covers his torso with the only warmth they can offer. The victim moans weakly, but doesn’t exactly come to. Sam looks back at the others. “Who’s this guy?” “It’s Cole, he got here first,” Nadia answers. “When was that?” he asks. “I guess about ten days ago, I got here second, two days later,” she tells him, leaning against the doorframe. “Did it feed you or anything?” Sam wonders. “Not exactly, but the place floods when it rains. It’s all we have,” she explains.

Sam shakes his head slowly, not believing what he’s hearing, and looks over at his colleague who is still by Cole’s side. This situation is heading from bad to worse. Cole needs help and he needs it fast, he doesn’t have much time. “Is this Dean you talked about going to save us?” Michelle wonders. Zoë looks over her shoulder at the mother of two, then up to Sam. The huntress can tell he’s conflicted; he wants to stay positive, but he wouldn’t be telling the truth if he promised that his brother will be here soon. So Zoë decides to respond for him. “I’m not gonna lie to you, I don’t think so,” Zoë admits. “So what, we’re stuck here? What if that shapeshifter thing comes back?” Neil exclaims. “We’re all together in this,” Sam states, remaining calm. “We will figure something out.” “Can’t we just knock him down when he shows up? Two men like us can handle him, right?” the clueless man proposes.

Zoë scoffs as she gets to her feet. Not amused and feeling excluded, she’s ready to prove to him that women can fight just fine. Sam moves his arm in front of her and answers before she snaps. “No, you’d need a silver bullet to kill him. He doesn’t show pain for anything else,” he explains. “Plus, he is much stronger than us humans. It would be impossible to overpower him.” “We can’t just wait and see what happens! I don’t wanna die!” Neil freaks out. “Could you keep it down? You’re scaring my children.” Michelle pulls Lizzy close, the little girl clinging to her mother’s leg. “No, I can’t keep it down! I’ve been down here for week and I’m starving, and I—” “Hey!” Zoë grabs his collar, stopping his rant. “Shut up!” “Don’t tell me to--” he bites back, but she shushes him and tilts her head to hear better.

Now that it’s quiet in the tank, they can all hear a low rumble of a running engine. It’s origin is still distant, but seems to be steadily approaching. “I know that sound,” Sam comments. Zoë recognizes it, too. She could pick it out of a line up of a thousand motorcycles. “It’s my Dave.” The hunters exchange a look, considering the options in silent communication. The fact that the Harley Davidson just entered the property, doesn’t necessarily mean they are out of the woods. For all they know, the shapeshifter could have shed again, assumingly having copied Dean’s body. “Everyone back in their cell!” Sam orders. “That son of a bitch is riding my bike,” Zoë mutters, receiving a glare from the younger Winchester, since it definitely isn’t the most important matter right now. All close the doors and hide in their cage. The engine above ground is killed, total silence all that is left. Quietly, they listen to the footsteps above them, Sam and Zoë concerned and ready for combat, the rest full of fear. “Sammy?!” It’s Dean. It sounds like Dean, at least. “Sam! Zoë!?” his voice echoes over the terrain. Zoë glances at the young hunter, tensing up. Then she nods. “Dean! We’re down here!” Sam yells at the top of his lungs. Moonlight coming through the small holes above them is blocked from entering the tank. The cover shifts with a screeching sound and Dean’s silhouet appears through the round hole in the ceiling. “I noticed the ‘D’ projected on the beautiful clear sky this evening, thought you might need some help,” he jokes. “You’re not Batman, Dean. Get us out,” Sam responds. “How many of you are down there?” he asks. “Eight.” “Alright, let me get the rope and a flashlight from the trunk. I saw the car parked up front, be right back.” The figure that has such a resemblance to Dean disappears again, leaving a heavy silence. “Follow my lead,” Zoë whispers to Sam. It doesn’t take long for their rescuer - or kidnapper - to return, because a minute later a rope falls down through the sewer drain. He aims a flashlight down the tank and focuses on Zoë’s face for a moment. “Good to see you, too. Awkward, but good,” he admits, that trademark smirk on his lips. “Do I wanna know?” Zoë comments. “Get your ass down and free us already.” He shines the light on the others down the tank. “Don’t worry, people. You’ll be out in no time,” he assures, then lowers himself down into the septic tank.

His feet haven’t even reached the ground yet, before he feels Zoë’s tight headlock around his neck. She pulls him off the rope and throws him on his back, overpowering him in a blink of an eye and landing on top. Sam quickly picks up the torch and shines the bright light in his brother’s eyes. They don’t flash white; Zoë still stares down the pair of emerald green irises, holding his wrists over his head with one hand, pinning him down. It's not enough proof for her yet, because she jerks Dean's pocket knife from his belt and carves the unexposed skin on his forearm until blood becomes visible. He flinches and lets out a gasp. "Ow! You bitch!” he curses, eying her furiously as he pulls his arms free. In response she punches his chest, warningly, an ‘umph!’ escaping Dean’s throat. “I told you not to call me that. I had to be sure,” Zoë counters, not even bothering to apologize.

Stunned, he eyes her while catching his breath, which proves to be difficult, since the huntress has a powerful grip on him with her thighs. “You get a real kick out of torturing me, don't you?” “Don't be such a baby. You're definitely Dean, though,” she huffs, crossing her arms in front of her chest while judging him. “Oh, shut up,” Dean returns, already done with her smart talk, before he redirects his gaze to his brother. “You okay, Sammy?” Sam smiles, deciding not to correct his brother on the nickname for once. “I’m okay. Good to see you made it in one piece.” “Likewise. Now you--” Dean returns his glare to Zoë, who’s still sitting on his stomach, and shoos her. “- get off me. I already had you all over me tonight.” Zoë furrows her brow puzzled, wondering what he means by that, but stands up and allows him to do the same. “You have a phone?” Sam asks. “Yeah, I already called 911,” he informs and turns to the others. “Now, let's get you people out.”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

Read part eleven here

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pennywaltzy · 5 years

Note

Fanfic ask game -- F, H, I, M, N, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, and Y. Thanks. :)

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. From “Healthy Competition,” this bit is where Sherlock and Molly start to truly think of themselves as partners and they realize Irene had been playing a long game:

She leaned back in her seat and sipped her wine. “This was an interesting chat.”

“It was,” Sherlock said. “I’m going to talk to Lestrade to see if I can get in to see Reginald and find out if he knows for sure that Irene is alive. But that can keep until morning. He said he was going to email me the list before he went home for the night.” He leaned back in his own seat. “Do you think Mycroft would extend the favor you already called in to get every scrap of information on Chelsea Fitzgerald he can dig up?”

“If he won’t I’ll just use another one,” she said.

“I don’t want you using all of your favors on my case,” he said with a frown.

“Our case,” she countered. “At this point it’s all so connected that it’s best to just think of it as our case.”

He nodded and then lapsed into silence for a moment. “I like working with you,” he said when he spoke again. “Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy working with John but…there’s something I quite like about working a case with you, too.”

“I like working with you just as much as I like working with Mary,” she said with a smile. “It’s nice.”

“We should collaborate more often,” he said. “When the wager is over.”

“About the wager…” she said. “At this point, we’re both throwing all of it at this case. Unless there’s any heavy movement in the next few days, I doubt we’ll focus on much else. Why don’t we just consider it a draw? We were tied when we put it on hold, so…we’re tied now.”

“But what if there’s still time when this case is over?” he asked. “You may still want to try and beat me.”

“I probably will,” she admitted. “But I just want to get through this first.”

“Let’s think on it a bit,” he said. “See how we feel when we’re done with this case, if we finish it soon. All right?”

“All right,” she said with a nod as his phone beeped for a new email. He pulled his mobile out. “Lestrade?”

He nodded. “He went ahead and just sent the number he knew I wanted,” he said. He studied it for a moment, then keyed it into his phone and dialed it. He put it on speaker and then waited.

“Brainy was the new sexy, once upon a time,” a woman’s voice said after three rings.

“Irene,” Sherlock murmured.

“Pity it took you so long to realise I had the phone left for you to contact me. Miss Hooper I could have understood the lapse from, but you, Sherlock? I had expected better.” There was a pause in the message. “I change this message every few days, in case you want to talk in person. Considering today’s date and the new note that’s been left, I doubt you’ll want to talk to me alone. Book three tickets for yourself, Miss Hooper and Miss Hawkins on the Venice Simplon-Orient-Express for a week from today to Venice. Your brother can arrange them…he has the connections. I will contact you on the journey at some point between Paris and Venice. Jusqu'à ce que nous rencontrons à nouveau, Sherlock.”

The message ended and he looked up. “I suppose I’ll get to fulfill my dream of a train ride on the Orient Express now,” Molly said with a small grin.

“I should have called the number earlier,” he said with a sigh.

“Well, you did now, and that’s what matters. Don’t dwell on her being so…” Molly shook her head. She wanted to punch the woman in the face at the moment, to wipe the smug sound out of her voice. “We have plans to make. Call your brother, have him make the arrangements, and tell him you need every scrap of information on Chelsea Fitzgerald. If he demands I call in a favour then do it.”

H: How would you describe your style? Answered here!

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)? Answered here!

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share? The first of the trope mash-up fic prompts that gave me an idea (from @thequeenofhades : “Pondlock, trope: secret relationship & Fantasy/Magic”) is a Romeo + Juliet-type story of two fighting magical families with a dash of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, so there’s a happier ending. Basically, The Ponds are pressuring Amy to marry Rory, but Amy loves Sherlock and Rory just wants to train to be a healer instead of trying to live up to the Pond family legacy. Meanwhile, Sherlock wants to marry Amy but his friends are advising against it but his friend Molly has a thing for Rory and she wants to meddle in all of this to try and “free” Rory. Molly helps Sherlock and Amy escape London and Rory follows and they get lost in a forest and run into the fae, who are in the mood to play games. When they’re done and the day dawns, Sherlock/Amy and Rory/Molly are couples bound by the fae and nothing can tear them asunder, and this disaster is averted.

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you? If anyone wants to adopt my fantasy Star Wars AU “Magic Words,” I will honestly turn it over to anyone who wants it. I have no interest in finishing that one. But I also wish someone would write me more McMolly fic. I love that ship and want more people shipping it and writing it.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence? Non-fanfic authors I admire are David Eddings, Leigh Eddings, and Jayne Ann Krentz. Neil Gaiman also continues to be a huge source of encouragement.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist? Another of my faves is taking the characters and setting them in university.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand? I’m not particularly fond of mpreg or Omegaverse, but I don’t think there’s any tropes I hate other than Women In Refrigerators.

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much. @strangelock221b who is my enabler and gives me the best prompts as well as the best answers to my many many prompts; @thequeenofhades who writes such brilliant short fics, even in fandoms I don’t recognize; and @conchepcion, who has written so many fics I’ve found buried in my likes that I have just utterly fallen in love with because of how beautifully they’re written.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose? Ooooh! @strangelock221b and I are talking about remixing each other's fics (she just posted an amazing remix to my Sebolly fic Domesticity, Domestic, today which everyone should read) and while not a sequel or prequel, I’d like to remix a duology of hers, Fireworks, by writing a fic with the points of view of everyone but Steve and Darcy.

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones? I’m a fan of both equally, depending on how long the story is supposed to be (for short stories I love more specific ones, for longer stories I like more general ones)

X: A character you enjoy making suffer. It used to be Jim Moriarty but lately, I think Leonard McCoy?

Y: A character you want to protect. Molly Hooper

#answering asks!#fanfic #fanfiction #my stuff #my thoughts #strangelock221b

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shadowtearling · 6 years

Photo

A Thousand Beginnings and Endings edited by Ellen Oh & Elsie Chapman

Details

Goodreads Rating: 3.91 Genre: YA Anthology (mix of contemporary, sci-fi, fantasy) Publisher: Greenwillow Books Published: June 26, 2018

Summary

Star-crossed lovers, meddling immortals, feigned identities, battles of wits, and dire warnings. These are the stuff of fairy tale, myth, and folklore that have drawn us in for centuries. Fifteen bestselling and acclaimed authors reimagine the folklore and mythology of East and South Asia in short stories that are by turns enchanting, heartbreaking, romantic, and passionate. Compiled by We Need Diverse Books’s Ellen Oh and Elsie Chapman, the authors included in this exquisite collection are: Renee Ahdieh, Sona Charaipotra, Preeti Chhibber, Roshani Chokshi, Aliette de Bodard, Melissa de la Cruz, Julie Kagawa, Rahul Kanakia, Lori M. Lee, E. C. Myers, Cindy Pon, Aisha Saeed, Shveta Thakrar, and Alyssa Wong. A mountain loses her heart. Two sisters transform into birds to escape captivity. A young man learns the true meaning of sacrifice. A young woman takes up her mother’s mantle and leads the dead to their final resting place. From fantasy to science fiction to contemporary, from romance to tales of revenge, these stories will beguile readers from start to finish. For fans of Neil Gaiman’s Unnatural Creatures and Ameriie’s New York Times–bestselling Because You Love to Hate Me.

My Thoughts

I was really excited to get my hands on this because I am in desperate need of representation, and then I found out there are two Filipino stories I just about died. Finally! Finally something for me! My culture, as unorganized as it is, is rich with many folktales from creation myths to terrifying creatures of the night. Then I deflated after reading them. Roshani Chokshi’s “Forbidden Fruit” was the better of the two, with her whimsical, flowery writing style perfectly suited to the story of Maria Makiling. The story felt like it was Maria herself, light on her feet and softly treading on mountainside grass. It was objectively well written, but I felt like something was missing. Maybe that’s me expecting more from it, but it wasn’t quite what I needed. Melissa de la Cruz’s “Code of Honor” was, to me, downright offensive. It tells the story of a “manananggal,” which she calls “aswang,” whose mother died thereby making it necessary for her to flee. De la Cruz’s writing is clunky at best, full of telling rather than showing. What particularly irked me was how the main character constantly reassured herself that coming back home to the Philippines was a mistake, that she didn’t belong there, only to find that she truly had a family among white vampires in NYC. It was frustrating because it reinforced the already popular notion that in order to belong, one must leave the Philippines. I also just hated how often the reader has to be reminded that the main character was a vampire. We get it. You’re “bad” for wanting blood. Please stop.

As for the other stories, it was a mix varying from really wonderful to Bad.

“The Crimson Cloak” by Cindy Pon is by far my favorite, the narrator of the story emulating Jane Eyre by addressing the reader during crucial parts to set the record straight. I love the main character’s stubbornness and playful nature, and her story felt almost as though it were the original fairy tale.

Alyssa Wong’s “Olivia’s Table” was delightful in exploring The Hungry Ghost Festival and serving the readers a sampling of some delicious-sounding food! It has a good balance of flashbacks and current events, and it’s overall a well-rounded story.

“Still Star-Crossed” by Sona Charaipotra was frustrating because it might have been interesting had it been done better. As it stands, it only felt like the first chapter in a longer work because it was all set up and no pay off. Nothing actually happens except for the love interest showing stalker behavior, despite the main character showing visible signs of discomfort (aka literally running away). It was incomplete and not fully rounded as a short story. (And the first person POV with really flowery writing do Not mix).

“Spear Carrier” by Rahul Kanakia, about a kid who finds himself in the middle of a war because he wished to be a hero, was exhausting. It was full of lamentations of finding meaning in life, and it kept telling the reader “Look at me! I think a lot! I’m a deep guy!,” which got so tired after the first time. And the result? Nothing interesting. Just the main character being a “coward.” This was not worth the short time it took for me to read it.

Story Ranking (best to worst)

“The Crimson Cloak” by Cindy Pon

“Olivia’s Table” by Alyssa Wong

“The Land of the Morning Calm” by E.C. Meyers - I love the video game aspect that mixes with a ghost story!

“Daughter of the Sun” by Shveta Thakrar - Very whimsical and lovely, but sometimes the flowery writing got distracting. I liked the mashup of different myths.

“Forbidden Fruit” by Roshani Chokshi

“Nothing Into All” by Reneé Ahdieh - I like Ahdieh’s writing a lot, and this read kind of like one of those Pixar short films. I wish there were consequences for the brother’s actions, though.

“Eyes Like Candlelight” by Julie Kagawa - The first part was paced well, and once we get to the ending, it felt almost rushed in concluding it with little explanation. Still good, though.

“Bullet, Butterfly” by Elsie Chapman - This was interesting, but it would be better as a longer work so there isn’t insta-love and the world building can be done better.

“The Counting of Vermillion Beads” by Aliette De Boddard - I feel like this story was told through a foggy mist, like it’s the sky: there but untouchable. I can’t tell if that’s good or bad.

“The Smile” by Aisha Saeed - I like that this tackled the idea that master/servant romance as Not Good and gave the main character the power to choose for herself. I still take issue with flowery writing in first person POV and the phrase “hugged my curves.”

“Girls Who Twirl and Other Dangers” by Preeti Chhibber - There were two stories in this, a reiteration (kinda) of the original myth and the actual retelling. I liked the the myth of Mā Durgā and Mahishāsur better than the contemporary story.

“Steel Skin” by Lori M. Lee - It could have worked were it more developed. Needed another round of editing.

“Still Star-Crossed” by Sona Charaipotra

“Spear Carrier” by Rahul Kanakia

“Code of Honor” by Melissa de la Cruz - save yourselves

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your-iron-lung · 6 years

Text

No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross 9

aka ‘Buried in Water’; available to read on A03 HERE

Story Synopsis: Some weird low-key occult parties start popping up that Steve can’t in good conscience ignore and takes it upon himself to investigate. Billy gets caught up in the consequences of his meddling, and isn’t it funny? For all the strange things the Upside Down has thrown his way, it’s werewolves that Steve has trouble accepting exist.

Chapter Word Count: 5197

Pairings: Eventual Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Genre: Supernatural/Drama/Horror-ish

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Next Chapter: 10

Notes: bit of a shorter chapter here lads, but i want the next chapppie to be ENTIRELY FOCUSED on whats gonna happen next bc buddies. pals. friends and amigos. its gonna be real gud.

i hope none of u reading have that fear of looking out of a window in the dead of night only to find something standing there staring back in at you :^) youll see ;)

'Liminal' was not a word that existed within Steve's lexicon, but even so, it was the word that best fit how he felt sitting there in Billy Hargrove's curiously empty home, watching him pace the floor in front of him. He was talking, speaking energetically, but Steve wasn't listening; he was finding it hard to focus, too distracted by the revelation of werewolves to actually comprehend what he was being told. It was like his brain had gone numb, blanketing his mind in indifference as he studied the bandages covering the invisible wounds over his hand.

"-I don't know anyone in this hick town, so I'm going to need you to-"

A monster, Billy had said. Another goddamned monster running around loose in Hawkins, terrorizing the youth because why the hell not? They might as well change the slogan of the towns 'now entering' sign to read, 'Welcome to Hawkins: Monster Capital of the U-nited States'.

Billy kept talking, but his words continued to fall on selectively deafened ears as Steve wondered about who he ought to tell. Who the hell would even believe him? The kids, probably; Dustin definitely. But would they be enough to help him? And then, what were they meant to help him with? Exterminating Billy Hargrove? While he was certain they'd jump to arms for a chance to eradicate him, this wasn't a monster problem he felt could be solved by bludgeoning it to death like the last two had.

"-I don't know anything about this shit, but, I think that'll be enough."

"What-" Steve spoke slowly, brow furrowed as he tried to bring himself out of the introspective daze he'd worked himself into. He shook his head a little bit and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

Billy had stopped pacing and was waiting to hear the feedback on whatever idea he'd come up with in the time that Steve had been spacing out. A cigarette was hanging limply out of his mouth, smoke filtering through his lips. "Have you not been listening to a goddamned thing I've been saying?" he growled, frowning sharply when he realized Steve really hadn't. "Before we do anything, I said we need proof."

"Proof…? Proof of what?"

"Holy shit, what the hell are you being so damn spacey for?

"I said I don't know anything about werewolves except for what that b-movie showed me, and even then, how much of that is based on fact? It's just a fucking movie. Maybe this healing of my arm is enough proof that it was something supernatural, but what if that's just like, I don't know, a side-effect of being bitten?" He began pacing again, rambling as he walked back and forth in front of the small couch Steve was sitting uncomfortably on. He smoked the cigarette down to the filter but kept sucking on the butt end, focused entirely on finishing his thought. "Maybe it ends there, and I'm not actually infected or cursed or whatever. Maybe this is all that'll happen with me, but maybe there'll be more. I don't know anything about this, and from the look on your face you know about as much as I do, which is jack shit."

"So, research," Steve said. The idea that he was sitting in on a lecture made him want to laugh; no wonder he'd spaced out so hard earlier. "You want to do research? Go down to the library and have ourselves a good old fashioned study session?"

"Fuck research," Billy said decisively, snarling at Steve's retort. "You can do all the research in the world and still have people who don't buy into it. Fuck that. I don't want research, I want proof. Hard proof. Evidence that can't be refuted."

"Your arm-"

"-isn't proof enough for me," Billy finished, coming to a standstill and glowering at Steve. "And won't be for anyone else who didn't see it before, Jesus, Harrington, you really aren't a good learner, are you?"

"For a guy who was trying so damn hard to get me to believe in all this, you're being awful stubborn when it comes to your own convictions," Steve snapped. "So what, then? What'll be enough?"

Billy studied him quietly, a smoldering expression of pent up exasperation clouding his features. He didn't speak right away, causing Steve to want to fidget under the scrutiny, but he remained still.

"That," Billy finally said, pointing to the TV behind him where they'd paused the movie again on the transformation scene to study and compare the beast. "That'll be enough. When the next full moon comes, then I'll be satisfied."

Of course he was right. There was only one definitive way to settle the question of whether or not Billy actually was a werewolf now, and that meant waiting to see if he transformed under the influence of a full moon. Initially the idea of that seemed ridiculous to Steve, but when he thought about it, he wasn't sure why that notion should be ridiculous to him at all- he'd definitely seen stranger things. If horrific flower-faced monsters that were born out of the depths of some alternate universe could exist and somehow crawl their way into a universe they didn't belong in, then why couldn't werewolves be real? By comparison, werewolves had more rights to exist than the demo-whatevers; at least they belonged in their world.

The digital watch strapped to Billy's wrist began to beep, loud and insistent. Glancing at the display, Billy's face hardened imperceptibly. His eyes flickered to Steve momentarily before he shifted his view to the front door.

"So you're content to wait it out till then?" Steve asked, standing up as Billy walked by him and to the door, glancing out one of the street-facing windows briefly.

"No, but I fucking have to," Billy muttered, eyes scanning the street before he looked back at the readout on his watch. "It's not like we can force the moon to come early. We need a damn plan. Well, I had a fucking plan, but you tuned that right out, didn't ya?"

"A plan for what?"

Turning away from the window, Billy appeared both excited and apprehensive. He was smiling, baring his teeth and running his tongue along their edges, but it seemed to stem more from nervousness than anything else. Steve's first thought was that he looked like a caged animal ready to defend itself, and an uneasy feeling settled into his gut.

"For if I'm right, Christ, why don't you listen? Now get the fuck out of my house, we'll talk about this later."

Billy's dad came home a mere ten minutes after Steve left, angry and without reason for it. He never seemed to need a reason to be angry these days though, and as he felt his father's rage strike him, Billy imagined that Neil must have somehow known all along about Billy's secret meeting with 'that Harrington boy'. The assault was deserved, one way or another, in his father's eyes.

Later that night, Billy came down with another fever. The cause of it wasn't clear to him, as it could've been a myriad of different things, but regardless, he felt its exhausting effects and had to turn in early.

A great heat consumed him, troubling him when he found he couldn't stop sweating; repenting for the sin of having brought another boy into to the house by perspiring to death. The fever was so terrible that when he finally tried to lie down to sleep, wearing only his underwear and lying overtop of the bedcovers in a home that couldn't afford to run the heat in the winter, he opened his bedroom window so that the chilling breeze might offer him some respite.

It was soothing enough to allow him to rest, but his skin remained sticky and sheen when he finally did close his eyes. His sleep was light, due in part to the fever he couldn't stop sweating out and owing also to the nightmares that had begun to plague him recently, offering him horrific visions of what his future might hold in store for him if he didn't figure this 'werewolf' thing out.

It was two hours after he first fell asleep that Billy woke from one of the nightmares with a deep, shuddering gasp, and for a moment as he lay there panting, he thought it likely that he had woken himself up.

He was cold now, the fever abated as he lay shivering in the freezing breeze that flooded in from his window. Some snowfall had accumulated on the sill, leaving small little puddles as they melted down. He was disgusted to note how sticky he'd become as his bedcover stuck to his back when he sat up. When he reached back to peel the fabric from his back, he heard a noise like someone walking- no, running- through the snow outside, a dark blur against the blackness rushing by his window.

Billy froze in place, slowly turning his head to look out the window. His heart rate slowly began to pick up as he heard the shuffling footsteps of something creeping around out there, running in circles. He took in a deep breath to calm himself and realized, suddenly, that he could smell it- a rotting, fetid scent was wafting in on the winter air as the beast outside ran laps around his home.

His blood ran cold in an instant, and for a moment, he didn't know what to do.

'Let's say it is real,' he could hear himself telling Steve all those nights ago. 'What's to stop it from just following you home?'

It had tracked him down, using the pheromones or whatever hormones his fever sweat had exuded to find him at home with the window open, practically inviting it inside to kill him in his sleep.

The darkness of his room was unsettling as he listened to it snuffling around, taking in huge breaths as it skulked around in the night. Carefully and as quietly as he could, Billy slowly began to swivel his legs off the mattress, unsure of what he was going to do but knowing instinctively that he couldn't sit still for it to just find him. His feet touched the cold, hardwood of the floor and he almost recoiled at the freezing touch, and as childish as the thought was, he couldn't help but fear that something was going to reach out from underneath his bed and grab his ankles before he could do anything to combat the monster that was now hunting him.

The noises outside stopped for a moment, as though the creature could sense that Billy was on the move. He himself stopped moving, heart pounding in his chest even as he tried to convince himself that whatever was outside was just a large dog or something; a sick deer just trying to find a bite to eat underneath his window. He couldn't move his eyes away from that deep, dark square of night that was framed by the window as he sat paralyzed on the edge of his bed, and distantly he realized he'd begun to sweat again.

Just as he started to think that perhaps whatever it was had left, threatened by the thought of pretty that could fight back, he heard it again, but instead of an animals feet padding softly through the snow, foraging for sustenance that could not be found, the sound of something hard and sharp clacking against the sideboard of his house began to make his hair stand on end.

It was climbing; scraping its claws alongside the house as it tried to make its way into the open window.

Coming for him.

As strong as he knew he was, Billy felt terribly weak in that moment, unable to contain his panic. He shot up from the bed, disregarding the instinct that told him to just fucking run out of there as fast as he could and instead found himself lunging forward for the window, slamming it down hard enough to shake the frame as thought it would be enough to protect him.

With his heart pounding he stared out into the darkness, face mere inches away from the glass pane he knew wouldn't be enough of an effective barrier to keep it out.

There was no movement from the other side. The night was utterly and completely still; a void of darkness kept at bay by thin glass. It was stupid of him to sit there and keep watch, he knew, but he had to be sure it was gone. Being as scared as he was made him feel like a powerless child, and if he could write this incident off as just another vivid dream, then he'd be far better off for it. Still, nothing moved as he sat there, though the glass had begun to fog up, making it hard for him to see anything. Billy wiped at it with his hand, mistakenly thinking his own heavy breathing had caused the condensation, and found himself rendered immobile yet again when the beady red eyes of the beast surged into focus.

Billy stared transfixed as dread consumed him, rooting him in place, his hand pressed to the cold glass. He couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but watch as the werewolf grinned, spreading its lips in a wide snarl to show off all its teeth, taunting him, challenging him.

I will see your flesh torn asunder, boy; ripped to pieces, chunks in my jaw, your bone between my teeth, down my throat, your blood boiling in my belly.

With a scream rising up in the back of his throat, Billy did bolt then, shooting himself off his bed and launching himself away from the window that the creature was perched at, waiting to bust in and fulfill its promise. He collided against his closed door with a thud, and he fumbled with the handle, trying to open it without taking his eyes away from where he could see it, opening its wide mouth, exposing more, so much more as it pressed its gnarled hand against the glass to finally break through-

His door came open suddenly, spilling him out into the darkness of the hallway to land on the cold floor, chest heaving as he scrambled, trying to get to his feet but unable to find enough traction to set him straight.

"Billy?"

He almost let out a shout when he heard Max say his name.

"What're you doing on the floor?" Her voice was tired and her eyes were heavily lidded with exhaustion as she stepped out of their shared bathroom, the sound of the toilet's weak flush gurgling behind her. She yawned and rubbed her face, waiting for a response to justify his weird behaviour.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was gone. Instead he swallowed, and turned away from her to look back at his window, afraid of what dark, horrible shape would be crawling through it.

But there was nothing to be seen; the monster was gone, if it had truly ever been there at all.

"What're you looking at?"

Max stood behind him, peering into his dark room curiously when he didn't answer her question.

"Go back to your room," he finally said, though his voice was hoarse and he had to repeat himself.

"What are you, the hall monitor? I had to piss," she said, using the snarky tone of voice she reserved only for him. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"I'm not," he replied, finally finding the strength required to get to his feet.

"Well, you were."

"I'm not now, am I?" Billy snapped irritably, turning a mean look on her. Despite his fright, he was careful to keep his voice low. The last thing he wanted to do now was to wake up his father in the middle of the night. "Get the fuck back in your room and go the fuck to sleep."

Max rolled her eyes and didn't move, lingering in the hall. She looked away from Billy's room and back towards her own, biting at her lip.

"I heard something outside," she said at last, speaking quietly. "Something was running around outside the house. It woke me up, but I couldn't see anything when I looked. Too dark."

"Just a dog," Billy replied, swallowing hard, hoping she didn't hear the waver in his voice. He wasn't able to meet her eye as he said it. "It was just a dog. I yelled at it and it ran off, okay?"

"A dog?" Max had an alarmed look in her eye. "What kind of dog? Did you get a good look at it? How big was it?"

"I don't know, what does it matter? It was just some stray," he said. "I told it to fuck off and it did; it's gone now, so go back to sleep you little shit before you wake someone up."

"You're the one shouting at animals in the middle of the night," Max bit back, but despite her attitude, she still looked worried. "You're sure it was a…? Nevermind, whatever, I'm going back to sleep," she grumbled, and turned away to go back to her room, shutting the door just hard enough to let Billy know she didn't value his authority.

Alone in the darkness of the hall, Billy's eye was drawn back to the window. He wondered where the thing had crawled off to, and if it would be coming back. More timidly than he would have liked to admit, he stepped back into the cold enclosure of his room and quietly closed the door behind him.

"Hey, Steve, man, I really just wanna thank you again for offering me a ride home," Dustin said, already breathing hard. In his arms was a box full of the things he'd used for his final presentation in whatever science class he'd taken that semester, the weight of which was cumbersome enough to have him struggling to carry it. Ordinarily, Steve would have offered to help him carry it, but he wasn't thinking straight.

'Later', as Billy had said at the start of the weekend, had ended up being earlier that morning on the first day of finals. Cornered in the bathroom (the fucking bathroom, of all places), Billy had locked the door and sequestered them in the math halls men's room during the downtime between finals. He'd lit a cigarette and leaned against the stained porcelain sink, his shirt unbuttoned and open to accommodate his sling, and told him about his plan. It had been a simple one, but they wouldn't be able to see it through alone.

They needed a private place; somewhere they could quarantine Billy in case something really did happen with him, and the closer it got to the next full moon, the more Billy seemed convinced that something would happen.

"My teeth're starting to come loose," he'd admitted reluctantly, averting his eyes as he ran his tongue along them, prodding at the loose ones in agitation.

"Y'sure that's not just bad dental hygiene?" Steve had joked, but his remark had only been met with scorn.

"Just because I live in a hick town doesn't mean I'm going to become a toothless hick," Billy had snapped, but even through all his bravado, Steve felt he could sense his fear. "I brush my damn teeth Harrington. I take care of my appearance. And it's not just one tooth," he'd said as he rinsed the cigarette butt under a stream of water, putting out the cherry before flicking it into the can, "it's all of them."

On top of that, Billy had seemed haggard when they'd spoken; there was an overall dullness to him that suggested he hadn't been sleeping well lately, but they weren't at the point in their fucked up relationship where he felt he should ask about it. Instead he'd simply agreed to Billy's plan; it wasn't like he'd come up with a better one, but it meant he'd have to drag someone else into their mess. For as large and private as his home was, it didn't offer what Billy felt they needed.

But he knew Dustin's did. He'd been there before; seen with his own eyes what it could contain.

"I really owe you one," Dustin wheezed, his voice sounding strained and distant, and Steve was surprised at how far he'd managed to fall behind him in their trek through the parking lot. Coming out of his ruminations, he turned in time to watch as Dustin nearly stumbled through the gravel, trying to reclaim his balance quickly before he spilled the contents of his science project into the soggy earth.

"Whoa, hey, let me get that," Steve said, backstepping to relieve Dustin of his burden. The box was heavier than it looked, and nearly fell through his unprepared arms as he took it from him. "Geeze, man, you bring your whole damn chem set in or what?"

Dustin whistled in relief before replying.

"Had to, turns out students aren't allowed to use any of the school's equipment on the last day of class because no one wants to stay late to clean it. Myself included, obviously."

"Well that's bogus," Steve absently said, to which Dustin agreed.

"Tell me about it," he bemoaned, cracking his back as they approached Steve's car.

Setting the box of Dustin's things on the rear of his car, Steve dug his keys out of his coat pocket and unlocked the doors. He set the box carefully in the back seat, making sure it was stable enough not to tilt and spill if he took a turn too fast, and stepped back to see Dustin staring curiously at the ugly seat cover stretched over the front passenger seat.

"What's with that? Having some work done?"

"Something like that," Steve replied dismissively. He'd tell Dustin about it later, but for now he didn't want the kid worrying about anything he didn't have to. "But uh, speaking of owing me one, I need to talk to you about cashing that in."

"What, already?" Dustin looked a little surprised, but Steve could only shrug lackadaisically. "When I said that, you know, I kinda figured that you'd be cashing it in waaaay off in the very distant future. Or you'd forget I said anything at all, so I wouldn't have to actually do anything."

Steve laughed, but it sounded forced, and Dustin frowned a little bit at the harsh sound of it.

"I promise I wouldn't actually ask you to do something for me unless it was important. Get in so I can turn the heater on and we can talk about it."

A look of contemplation crossed Dustin's face briefly before he got in the car, preemptively putting his seat belt on as Steve started the engine and cranked the heater on to its highest setting, the airflow tousling his hair. Dustin didn't like the way Steve's brow kept creasing, or the way Steve had seemed so distant during the walk from the school building to the car. And now he wanted to talk.

"So, talking?" Dustin prompted.

"I need to borrow your basement," Steve said, coming right out with the request instead of wasting both of their time by trying to make it not sound weird. There was no easy way to say it.

Dustin blinked; an owlish and slow movement that, for a moment, made Steve feel like Dustin suddenly knew everything.

"I don't have a basement," he said instead. Steve balked.

"Bullshit," he said. "You dragged me back there to kill that lizard pet thing of yours that one time."

"Cellar," Dustin corrected, enunciating the word slowly and precisely. "I don't have a basement, I have a cellar. Mike is the one with the basement, dingus."

Taken back momentarily, it was Steve's turn to blink dumbly.

"Well what the hell's the difference? Nevermind, don't answer," Steve said, speaking quickly as Dustin opened his mouth and took in a breath to begin explaining. "Fine, cellar, whatever; I need to use it."

"What for?" Dustin asked suspiciously. "Wait. Are you planning on throwing an end of semester party? Why not just use your house? Or is it themed?"

"No, man, it's not a party; like I said, this is important," Steve stressed, growing impatient with the way the conversation was developing.

"Parties are important, Steve; you taught me that."

Groaning loudly, Steve tossed his head back and stared up at the roof for a moment.

"Okay, yeah, they are, but this is a different kind of important, okay? Like, it's for something serious," he continued, hoping Dustin would understand without telling him too much. "Trust me, if I was trying to throw a party, the whole school would have known about it by now. Just, loan me your basement."

"Cellar," Dustin corrected again, but without any of his usual haughtiness.

While Dustin wouldn't say Steve was dumb, per se, he would have to say that he wasn't exactly… subtle. Analyzing Steve's behaviour, and knowing what he'd used his own cellar for in the past, it was easy to come to the conclusion that Steve wanted to utilize the space in much the same way he himself had done when he realized Dart was growing up to be something of a problem child. Steve didn't want it for recreational use, but instead wanted it so he could contain something. Even before they'd gotten into the car, Steve had seemed tense, as though he'd been steeling himself to have this conversation, further justifying his line of thought.

"Steve," Dustin asked slowly, turning in his seat a little bit and scrunching up the fabric of the seat-cover to face his friend, "is this a code red?"

Meeting Dustin's eye, Steve saw that he was finally taking their conversation seriously. A graveness had overtaken his usually carefree expression, and he hated the way it made his young face seem to age.

"I don't know yet," he answered honestly, sighing and adjusting the air vent so it wasn't blowing heat directly on him anymore. "It might not be, but it potentially could be."

"Oh, Christ," Dustin groaned, slouching back in his seat and staring out forlornly through the windshield. "I thought we solved all this when El- Jane- closed the rift. What is it this time? More dogs? An Upside Down puppy? Shit, is it a cat?"

"No, no, it's nothing like… nothing like those things from before," Steve was quick to say, but wasn't sure how much information he should divulge. After all, like Billy said, it might not be anything, except… Except he had symptoms now. "If it was, I definitely would've said something about it before now."

Mulling the answer over in his head, Dustin then asked: "Does it have to do with the bear attack?"

Sitting back in his seat, Steve sighed and glanced up into his rearview mirror. Billy was there, a distant, lone figure, but he was there, and he was watching, waiting for him to secure a spot where they would be safe to test their theory.

"I can't tell you right now, but I promise it's nothing I can't handle."

"Alright," Dustin said after a moment, though he sounded dubious. He was frowning deeply, lost in his own thoughts before he said, "When will you know for sure? After you use the cellar? If we need to assemble the rest of the party, I can-"

"No, no, don't uh, 'assemble the party' just yet," Steve said. "I don't want to alarm everyone only for it to be a false alarm, you know?"

"Christ," Dustin mumbled again, looking miserable as he slowly began to slouch in his seat. "Okay, fine, you can use my cellar for whatever fucked up containment bay you need it for, but you have to tell me what the hell's going on afterwards, okay?"

"I will, man, I swear."

"Shit." Dustin heaved a sigh and sat up, rising out of his slump. His seat belt clicked noisily, locked into place as it refused to let out anymore slack.

Steve watched him undo the belt and re-buckle it with a hint of amusement. He hated that he had to give Dustin reason to worry, but at least school would be over soon, and they wouldn't have to split their focus and try to decide which was more important.

"Think I can take the loan out on your cellar this Friday?" he asked after Dustin had resituated himself. "And look man, you and your mom? You guys can't be there. Think you can arrange to get out of the house for the night?"

Groaning loudly, Dustin eventually nodded.

"My mom's been telling me over and over we need to go visit her sister," he said. "Aunt Connie hasn't seen my teeth since they came in and wants to see them; the only girl alive who wants to see them and it's my aunt."

Steve laughed earnestly at his comment, and when Dustin caught the look of honest amusement on his face, he cracked a grin too.

"But the worst part? You wanna know what the worst part is, Steve? She pinches, man! I'm gonna look like I have blisters on my face when I get back!"

Steve cackled with delight, picturing Dustin's face pinched so hard his cheeks would be naturally rosy for days afterwards.

"Hey, I'm real sorry about that; I'll take you out to lunch or something when you get back, alright?" he said, feeling the burden of having to put Billy's plan into motion lift from his shoulders. They had their spot secured; now they only had to wait for the weekend to use, and then, if they were lucky, they would be able to move on.

"Oh, you'll be owing me much more than that if I survive," Dustin muttered, grinning cheekily as Steve finally put the car into gear and began to drive them out of the lot.

"Here's hoping," Steve said with a wink.

#harringrove #harringrove fic #billy hargrove/steve harrington #billy/steve #steve harrington #billy hargro #werewolf!billy #slow burn #long fic #stranger things #stranger things fic

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richincolor · 6 years

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Summer Reading

We haven't found any new releases for this week.There were many new releases in June though and these are a few on my summer reading list:

Mariam Sharma Hits the Road by Sheba Karim HarperTeen

The summer after her freshman year in college, Mariam is looking forward to working and hanging out with her best friends: irrepressible and beautiful Ghazala and religious but closeted Umar. But when a scandalous photo of Ghaz appears on a billboard in Times Square, Mariam and Umar come up with a plan to rescue her from her furious parents. And what better escape than New Orleans?

The friends pile into Umar’s car and start driving south, making all kinds of pit stops along the way–from a college drag party to a Muslim convention, from alarming encounters at roadside diners to honky-tonks and barbeque joints.

Along with the adventures, the fun banter, and the gas station junk food, the friends have some hard questions to answer on the road. With her uncle’s address in her pocket, Mariam hopes to learn the truth about her father (and to make sure she didn’t inherit his talent for disappearing). But as each mile of the road trip brings them closer to their own truths, they know they can rely on each other, and laughter, to get them through.

Bruja Born (Brooklyn Brujas #2) by Zoraida Córdova Sourcebooks Fire

Three sisters. One spell. Countless dead.

Lula Mortiz feels like an outsider. Her sister’s newfound Encantrix powers have wounded her in ways that Lula’s bruja healing powers can’t fix, and she longs for the comfort her family once brought her. Thank the Deos for Maks, her sweet, steady boyfriend who sees the beauty within her and brings light to her life.

Then a bus crash turns Lula’s world upside down. Her classmates are all dead, including Maks. But Lula was born to heal, to fix. She can bring Maks back, even if it means seeking help from her sisters and defying Death herself. But magic that defies the laws of the deos is dangerous. Unpredictable. And when the dust settles, Maks isn’t the only one who’s been brought back…

Reaper at the Gates by Sabaa Tahir Razorbill

Beyond the Empire and within it, the threat of war looms ever larger.

The Blood Shrike, Helene Aquilla, is assailed on all sides. Emperor Marcus, haunted by his past, grows increasingly unstable, while the Commandant capitalizes on his madness to bolster her own power. As Helene searches for a way to hold back the approaching darkness, her sister’s life and the lives of all those in the Empire hang in the balance.

Far to the east, Laia of Serra knows the fate of the world lies not in the machinations of the Martial court, but in stopping the Nightbringer. But while hunting for a way to bring him down, Laia faces unexpected threats from those she hoped would aid her, and is drawn into a battle she never thought she’d have to fight.

And in the land between the living and the dead, Elias Veturius has given up his freedom to serve as Soul Catcher. But in doing so, he has vowed himself to an ancient power that will stop at nothing to ensure Elias’s devotion—even at the cost of his humanity.

A Thousand Beginnings and Endings edited by Ellen Oh & Elsie Chapman Greenwillow Books

Star-crossed lovers, meddling immortals, feigned identities, battles of wits, and dire warnings. These are the stuff of fairy tale, myth, and folklore that have drawn us in for centuries.

Fifteen bestselling and acclaimed authors re-imagine the folklore and mythology of East and South Asia in short stories that are by turns enchanting, heartbreaking, romantic, and passionate.

Compiled by We Need Diverse Books’s Ellen Oh and Elsie Chapman, the authors included in this exquisite collection are: Renee Ahdieh, Sona Charaipotra, Preeti Chhibber, Roshani Chokshi, Aliette de Bodard, Melissa de la Cruz, Julie Kagawa, Rahul Kanakia, Lori M. Lee, E. C. Myers, Cindy Pon, Aisha Saeed, Shveta Thakrar, and Alyssa Wong.

A mountain loses her heart. Two sisters transform into birds to escape captivity. A young man learns the true meaning of sacrifice. A young woman takes up her mother’s mantle and leads the dead to their final resting place. From fantasy to science fiction to contemporary, from romance to tales of revenge, these stories will beguile readers from start to finish. For fans of Neil Gaiman’s Unnatural Creatures and Ameriie’s New York Times–bestselling Because You Love to Hate Me.

Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World #1) by Rebecca Roanhorse Saga Press

While most of the world has drowned beneath the sudden rising waters of a climate apocalypse, Dinétah (formerly the Navajo reservation) has been reborn. The gods and heroes of legend walk the land, but so do monsters.

Maggie Hoskie is a Dinétah monster hunter, a supernaturally gifted killer. When a small town needs help finding a missing girl, Maggie is their last—and best—hope. But what Maggie uncovers about the monster is much larger and more terrifying than anything she could imagine.

Maggie reluctantly enlists the aid of Kai Arviso, an unconventional medicine man, and together they travel to the rez to unravel clues from ancient legends, trade favors with tricksters, and battle dark witchcraft in a patchwork world of deteriorating technology.

As Maggie discovers the truth behind the disappearances, she will have to confront her past—if she wants to survive.

Welcome to the Sixth World.

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bookloveravenue · 2 years

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Brooklyn Bruisers (book 9): Shenanigans by Sarina Bowen

What I meant to do in Vegas: Let my hair down for once and celebrate winning a medal at my first women’s hockey all-stars competition.

What I actually did: Got senior prom drunk and woke up married to Brooklyn’s star winger, the great Neil Drake.

He’s the heir to a billion dollars, and I barely survived my childhood. Our friendship is based strictly only on hockey, takeout food and smack talk.

And now holy matrimony. Although we both know it can’t last, especially once his evil family gets wind of our Vegas shenanigans…

Contains: Meddling teammates, meddling parents, ugly jewelry and a pretend-kiss that nearly sets the world on fire.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59737076-shenanigans

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March 2, 2022

My Review: 5/5 Stars

Shenanigans is such an excellent title for this story because when it comes to Neil and Charli and all their friends there are plenty shenanigans going on! Loved Neil and Charli's story! I was so excited for them to get a book after meeting them in the previous book of this series. The story kicks off in a pretty memorable way or for Neil and Charli, there are some things they don't quite remember. They wake up next to one another in a bed in Vegas, hungover as hell and stumble upon some pretty interesting papers. Specifically marriage papers where they apparently got married the night before. As they nurse a hangover and rush out the door to catch a plane and not miss either of their hockey practices, they are a little late to realize that leaving wasn't the best idea if you are looking for a divorce. Apparently getting married drunk is super easy but getting a sober divorce is not. As the two of them figure out their plan of action and their feelings for one another things get complicated. Like how Neil has always had a thing for Charli and explaining how he feels about her may not come out right after drunk marrying her. And for Charli, she always keeps her distance because trusting others is super hard and Neil tempts her in ways that no one ever has. Plus Charli believes they come from totally two different worlds. Neil and his family are super rich while she barely has money to her name. That and the fact that her family is the worst lot. Though Neil's isn't any better in some ways. And when Neil proposes for them to stay married long enough for him to make a move against his uncle in their company, well Charli finds herself agreeing to help. How can she not get behind Neil when his ideas will help so many others? It also doesn't help when he promises to cook her some amazing steak dinners in exchange for every family encounter.

This book is just a ton of fun. Neil and Charli have wonderful chemistry and despite their differences are really great together. How can anyone not love the sweetheart that is Neil Drake III? And it will take everything he has to prove to Charli that he is crazy about her and that she can open her heart to him and trust him to have her back no matter comes their way. Just another wonderful addition to this series and I can't wait to find out who's book is next!

I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

#book #books #i love books #my review #book review #brooklyn bruisers #shenanigans #sarina bowen

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mixeurants · 7 years

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Devil wears Prada AU - TFC

Neil is on the run from his father, the owner of the biggest fur farm industry by day, butcher of Baltimore by night.

Neil is full of dark secrets he doesn't plan to ever reveal, but growing up as a fugitive is tiring, and Neil considers taking a break for a while, only a few months, nothing more. He finds a quiet place with Matt an Dan, through a crumpled ad pined to a board at the diner where he's waiting for the night to end.

It will have to be enough for what he needs. It’s only a place in an old sofa, crammed in a corner of the main room of their apartment. He doesn’t mind not having a room of his own, since they have a safe he can use to store his few belongings. They don ‘t give him an explanation as to why they have one, in such a shitty place, and he doesn’t inquire. In fact, not a lot of information is exchanged between them. All he knows is that they badly need the money, and he badly needs to stop and just… Pretend to live for some time.

He doesn’t want them to ask questions or to start preying about his personal life, and they don’t. He’s content just getting up in the morning and go on a run until he comes back for lunch with Matt (who never stops acting friendly, and that’s something he can’t allow himself to question, because it seems like a can of worms he’ll be content staying far away from).

But that’s until Matt and Dan take it upon themselves to meddle with how he occupies his day.

« You’ve gotta have something to occupy yourself with !

-I do. I run.

-See ? That’s exactly what I mean. »

Neil really doesn’t, but he ends up giving up, too tired to keep arguing, and hoping deep inside that they’re right and an occupation is what’s missing in his life. So when later that day Dan mentions the assistant who got fired earlier that morning, Neil wonders aloud if he could apply for the job. His quiet words are followed by a sudden hush at the dinner table, Matt and Dan both looking at him with huge eyes, before erupting into laugher.

« You don’t even know where we work !

-I know what being an assistant means. You just have to answer the phone and take notes, bring coffee cups sometimes… Right ?

-Omg, Neil…

-Besides, you wanted me to get a job or something, right ?

-I did, but, that’s… Really not what I meant.

-Neil, we work for a fashion magasine.

-Yeah, and ? »

Dan and Matt look at each other before eyeing Neil from head to toe, bending themselves over the table to do so. He doesn’t usually care about the way he looks like, besides checking his hair each morning to see if the roots are showing, but Neil stills feels a little insulted by their pointed stares. Maybe that’s why he decides to present himself the next morning anyway, following Dan and Matt after they get ready for the day. They’ve ended up laughing about it together, joking about the drastic change Neil will make once inside Runway’s walls. Dan gently suggested he puts on « something less ragged », but she abandonned quickly after Neil answered that his other jean was in the drier in a flat voice.

Once inside, Matt gives them a quick wave before going his way, and Dan takes Neil by the arm, both as a sign to follow her and a way to indicate that he was with her. She pushes him into a pristine, white office after a seemingly endless elevator ride. Her gaze instantly focuses on him, and while Dan and Matt’s made him slightly uncomfortable, hers only makes anger slowly rise inside himself.

« What is that.

-That is Neil, our roommate. And I need you to make us a huge favor, he wants to postulate as Day’s assistant.

-You are joking, right ? » she says after a long silence.

A few minutes of intense pleading and a bet later, Neil is led to the last floor of the building and left there by Alisson, who is « very busy » and has « no time for charity work ». Not for too long tho, because a tiny blond man enters shortly after, makes a beeline for the desk in front of Neil, sits down, takes a sip of the huge cup of coffee in his hand and finally looks at Neil, like he’d known he was there all along but simply couldn’t bother to care about it.

« Are you lost or something ? Go bother someone else about it.

-Alisson told me to wait here.

-That’s great. I don’t care. »

Eventually Kevin gets in and apparently, that’s the guy who badly needs a competent assistant and « really is that so much to ask for ? »

That’s also a ghost from Neil’s past, and he might have sprinted away if not for the clear signs that Kevin has absolutely no memories of him. After some time spent monologuing about the incompetence of people these days, he finally focuses on Neil.

« Who’s that ?

-A homeless hobo, obviously. I’m calling Seth to take care of him, Andrew answers.

-No, wait. »

Even Neil is surprised. Kevin quickly assesses Neil’s state of being, before asking a few questions. How fast can you run ? Do you think you could get downstairs faster than the elevator right now ? How long can you hold your breath ? Could you cut the line at the coffeeshop in case of emergency ? Even if that means pushing an old man on the floor ?

This is probably the strangest interview Neil’s been a part of, no matter it being his first one. He must do okay tho, because an hour later he’s sent to his first errand, despite Andrew’s exasperated lack of expression. Neil does notice Alisson slipping Matt some bills at the end of the day.

« So you got in ? No one believed it, you know, he tells him happily. How was it ?

-Horrible. Kevin is a nightmare.

-You finally give up, then ?

-Are you kidding ? Of course not. »

He strides forward and misses the incredulous look on Matt’s face.

· After a few weeks spent running in circles to complete Kevin’s impossible requests, Neil is taken aside by Nicky, who’s in charge of the mail and the Love Advice pages.

« Here, take this, he says giving Neil a huge bag apparently full of clothes. You should start wearing this starting tomorrow. There’s a lookbook, in case you don’t know how to wear some of it. » His face clearly says that Neil will be in desesperate need of that book.

« Thanks, but I already have clothes. Besides, if Kevin is unhappy about it, he can tell me himself.

-Oh, that’s… Don’t tell him I said it, but it’s actually from Andrew. Apparently he’s tired of seeing a dumpster on legs everyday, his words. In fact, I should beg you to wear them, I might be in danger if you don’t, » he adds, laughing.

Neil doesn’t quite know what to think of it, because Andrew seems to almost go to some extremes to show how much he doesn’t care about him. He wouldn’t have thought more about it though, if not for Nicky’s next words.

« He also asked that you stop wearing contacts, since you apparently don’t need correction ? » In his defense, Nicky does look sorry for Neil to out him like this. It doesn’t stop the chill Neil feels from following him on his way home.

· Riko is editor-in-chief of the European branch of Runway, which is awfully close to Neil’s past for his own comfort. Closer, much closer than Neil might think, in fact. It shouldn’t be a problem, but then Kevin spends the whole day without getting out of his office, alternating between yelling at people on the phone and not-so-secretly downing shots. Neil would be happy about not seeing him all day, if not for Andrew mentionning in a sarcastic tone that he’s unhappy about being forced to add a section on the latest fur trend, and how « lovely » the reunion with Riko will be on that particular photoshoot.

Neil can put two and two together easily enough.

· Wymack is the budget manager. Matt actually works the lighting on photoshoots, with Dan as a hairstylist. Alisson is the trend tracker and main designer. Renee, a quiet, nice girl Neil can’t bring himself to trust, is the official photograph of Runway. Neil also learns that, apparently, Andrew has a brother who’s dating one of the models ? Nicky tells him, as an explanation for the unbearable tension everytime Andrew walks into a room with one of the models, no matter which one.

He doesn’t actually understand Andrew’s job, at first. On paper, he’s supposed to be « the first assistant » to Kevin, but Neil never saw him doing any assisting. In fact, Andrew seems to make it a rule to always do the exact opposite of what is asked of him. He does answer the phone, but it’s a wonder to Neil how Runway can function when Andrew is so impolite during everycall that surely he’s sent more that one investor running in fury.

· One night, when Neil’s tired enough to actually close his eyes and accidentally falls asleep after a whole day of running around to satisfy Kevin’s every desire, he’s suddenly jostled awake by the sound of a box slammed on his desk.

He lifts his head with some difficulties and is faced with a soup countainer and Andrew retreating to his own chair. He doesn’t look at him and goes back to his card games on his computer while telling him to eat before it gets cold. Neil has indeed skipped his lunch and dinner, as his stomach reminds him by growling, and it’s already past 2am. He certainly didn’t think Andrew would have noticed. In the end, he’s too hungry and thankful to question it further ? Things are back to normal the next day anyway, with Andrew scowling at him furiously when Neil greets him.

#tfc #andreil #the foxhole court #tfc fanfic #tfc prompt

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ryukogo · 7 years

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hi! i dont know if youve answered this already, but im really curious! how and why did you classify team gwen and team david as they are? did you use a guide to classpects by other people, or did you analyze the meanings of the classpects from the canon hs wiki?

oh man!! some people have asked but never publicly!! i’m glad you asked though!! the classpecting @fiddler-unroofed and i did for Team David and Team Gwen draws very heavily from the guide made by dahniwitchoflight among other things (though i did look through other blogs and their descriptions + the wiki itself), so what may not make sense for you makes sense for us!

(fiddle may or may not reblog this if she wants to correct anything i say because we talked about this so long ago, so pay attention to any updates!)

some of them get pretty long, so i’ll put it under a cut! [and warning: i know some people are triggered by the episode Reigny Day, so if you don’t want to read about that, please avoid Dolph’s description, which I conveniently put as last so you don’t have to read it! should you want to read everyone else’s!]

TEAM DAVID

Role Recap: David as Seer of Hope, Nurf as Rogue of Rage, Max as Knight of Doom, Neil as Sylph of Mind, Nikki as Witch of Breath, Space Kid as Heir of Space

-=-=-=-=-

DAVID, Seer of Hope (One who Invites Knowledge of Hope or one who Invites Knowledge through Hope)

- We pinned David as a Hope player from the start! Hope, if we look at it in Homestuck, appears to be the power of belief, and we all know how strong David’s beliefs are! He believes wholeheartedly in a lot of things - in Cameron Campbell being a great person, in Max being able to change, in Camp Campbell itself, the list goes on, so it was only natural he’d be a Hope player to us.

- It took a while for us to decide on a role for David, but through elimination and through making sense, he became a Seer. Seers understand their Aspect, and usually keep their party from making grave mistakes, according to the MSPA Wiki.

- David as the Seer of Hope, taking into account the descriptions given by dahniwitchoflight, in this manner, would make sense.

I directly quote, aSeer of Hope will find themselves faced with many paths and choices for what to put their trust in and what to believe. Many outside sources will give them differing opinions about is truly real and The Seer of Hope’s challenge is to learn and see through the false lies and find the one true authentic path for them to take. Maybe they need to figure out what it is exactly that they truly believe in. They might have trouble deciding who they can trust to confide in, who they can really count on in times of trouble. It also might be as simple as they need to figure out what they like and what makes them happy.

That bolded line? Think about the last episodes of Season 1 and Season 2 - Order of the Sparrow and Parent’s Day, respectively. Those two episodes specifically highlight the situation in the bolded sentence - his belief in the camp and his love for camp even when everyone else seems to have abandoned it in favor of better things (Order of the Sparrow), and his belief in Cameron Campbell (Parent’s Day). The last one is a slight stretch, but I remember a post going around about David choosing Camp Campbell over Cameron Campbell, and I thought that was pretty accurate. I’ll update this post and link to it when I get the chance!

I found this particular paragraph by dahni highly appropriate for David in particular: “Regardless of struggles though, the Seer of Hope will be innately optimistic that they will be able to make the right choice. They have faith in themselves to be true or that will be able, even if they aren’t always able to see the right choices in others right away. Like most Hope players as well, Seers of Hope would be happy agreeable people, if a little naive or overenthusiastic at times. They might not always know what’s right, but they are confident that they will know when the time is right.”

-=-=-=-=-

NURF, Rogue of Rage (One who Invites Theft of Rage or one who Invites Theft through Rage)

- Nurf is arguably the special case among all of the people we classpected, actually, being already a nearly realized Rogue of Rage prior to the start of their session, just lacking in the god tier status. Why do we say this?

Nurf is a very self-aware character, aware of things people call him - a problem child, a bully, all that stuff. In his appearances over the two present seasons - where he has voiced lines anyway - we see he clearly understands that he has issues, and that he’s visibly the most adjusted in his family (Parent’s Day, compared to his mother, he is actually very much aware of the repercussions to lashing out and all that jazz.)

In this sense, Nurf has already risen to his challenge, or is on his way to becoming a true Rogue of Rage. Paraphrasing dahniwitchoflight, he lets himself be angry and upset at things - he’s already learned to be stubborn and unmoving, he just needs to learn how to not always be so.

“They stop viewing Rage as something negative that they can’t deal with and start seeing it as something necessary or justified or even something to treasure and take pride in. They learn to give and take constructive criticism and they learn to handle rejection and rejecting others. They stop letting others shut down their concerns or pacify them by telling them to lighten up or ease off or lol I was just joking.”

We’ve seen Nurf advising Neil to look into aggression therapy, and similar situations over the episodes. As I have repeatedly stated, he’s very much aware of his issues, and he’s trying his best, but he’s also, as he states himself in his character episode David Gets Hard, ‘just a kid’ - it’s gonna take a pretty long while before he gets 100% better.

-=-=-=-=-

MAX, Knight of Doom (One who Exploits with Doom or Exploits Doom)

- I’m surprised no one thinks Max is a Doom player. Doom is the opposite of the Life aspect, and quoting Dahni, “It is the bitter repulsion, the cautious pessimism and the necessity of obligation that limits you and what you can do in the world around you. It is understanding what you can and cannot change. It’s the sharp Black and White boxes and lines that everything in the world gets sorted into. It is the sadness and apathy of acceptance contrasted with the frustration and anger of limits. Doom sees what it wants, and lets it go, gives it to others, or just lets it be destroyed altogether. Things will be lost or destroyed, people will die or forget and things will happen that cannot be changed, so don’t bother trying.”

Max in the series is generally presented as a cynical child - it’s even in his description. He gets better from Parent’s Day onwards, from what we understand - his attitude in Night of the Living Ill is pretty different from, say, his attitude during Order of the Sparrow, but before that, he’s always seemed like a Doom player, being very much aware of the limits, what he can or cannot change.

“Doom sees what it wants, and lets it be destroyed altogether.” - This may be a stretch or a personal interpretation, but Max’s desire for his parents to care could be seen as a want, but because they don’t he lets that want be destroyed - he refuses David’s attempts at bonding with him because he’s already let it go (not that that stops him from hurting when he remembers that they don’t care, of course).

- Known Knights in Homestuck are Dave, Karkat, and Latula respectively. According to the Wiki, all the Knights seen thus far conceal their innermost selves - because of a physical “imperfection” or whatever. This can be attributed as well to Max, who’s revealed to actually want for his parents to care for once - his imperfection, which he hides through most of his actions over the series towards David, and occasionally everyone else.

A few key descriptions in Dahni’s paragraphs regarding a Knight of Doom caught my attention in particular - “A Knight is very skilled with using the rules and limitations of any game or session to their advantage. They skillfully fulfill any responsibility or obligation required of them with ease. They might use their natural caution and pessimism to make realistic choices and endeavors. They use and exploit any rule or limit that they can to their advantage. They might also be very good at exploiting any sacrifices made or any obligation or responsibility that they are held to. They might be very good at avoiding any unnecessary thing or person and are very good at recognizing when something is too futile to even bother with.”

“Out of all the Doom players, a Knight of Doom seems like the one most likely to sacrifice themselves for the greater good.“ Max in Cult Camp, anyone? He kept trying to convince David of Daniel’s cult leader shtick, but the man didn’t believe him, so he did it “Daniel’s way”, and threw himself into the purification sauna just so David could finally catch on that something was wrong - the greater good.

“A Knight of Doom can also expertly use and exploit fire, bombs and explosions to their advantage, maybe they create flashy distractions during fights. They might even use decaying or dying things to their advantage.” Hah. Camp Cool Kidz, using Space Kid as the expendable character.

-=-=-=-=-

NEIL, Sylph of Mind (One who Invites Creation of Mind or one who Invites Creation through Mind)

- Neil was most definitely a Mind player from the beginning, and reading through the descriptions we couldn’t think of a better role than Sylph - fuck the gendering of the classes, we want Neil in a dress, dammit. Also, the description for Sylph is rather appropriate - “Sylphs will calmly, analytically and happily give their opinion all about their Aspect. They meddle, healing or fixing any lack of it they notice. ”

“A Sylph of Mind is one who encourages others to be more sensible and logical, to think things through just a bit more and don’t be so rash! Just wait and see every side of the situation before making a decision.” - Neil, towards Max and Nikki mainly, and to everyone else in general.

He’s not as rash as Nikki or Max, definitely - save for that one incident in Eggs Benefits, where he adopts what is assumedly his mother’s way of parenting (since we’re pretty sure Carl isn’t that way thanks to Parent’s Day). Generally he’s a very rational character, being the ‘smart’ character among the campers. He is very knowledgeable as a Science camper, and his belief in science only solidifies his status as a Mind player.

A Sylph of Mind invites creation of Mind or creation through Mind - with this line of thinking, Neil invites creation of Mind (or invites creation of reason - he is the most logical of the comedy trio, being the mind) or creation through Mind. Sounds very appropriate to me, but make of it what you will.

-=-=-=-=-

NIKKI, Witch of Breath (One who Manipulates with Breath or Manipulates Breath)

- I read the tags on the Team David reblogs, and I know someone out there doesn’t think Nikki is a good Witch of Breath. I present you this description of a Witch - “Witches are enthusiastic, confident and optimistic rebels. They break and change the physical and metaphysical “Rules” of their Aspect.”

“They want to be free and have fun and be in control of whenever they want to do those things, but they also recognize that not everyone is as free as them, and so they might try to take them along for their ride, giving them a taste of the freedom that the Witch would enjoy, but not necessarily the kind of freedom that the person they are dragging along would enjoy. They might even start to think that this kind of “freedom” and this direction would even be good for the person it was directed at, regardless of that person’s own wishes.

And this is where we see where the Witch of Breath can kinda go to the dark side, ripping up the foundation of someone’s life in its entirety, forcefully cutting them free of all bonds, putting them in a whirlwind of excitement and confusion and then setting them down somewhere lost and confused when they’re bored and had enough fun, almost like Tornadoes. But Witches of Breath can be good too, they just need to distinguish between someone unhappy and wanting freedom, and someone content to be in their bonds and obligations.”

Nikki is a Breath player because Breath players are frequently associated with freedom and the like - John, Rufioh, Tavros. Nikki loves the forest, loves being wild - when she joined the Flower Scouts the year before she came to Camp Campbell it’s said she was run out for not being ‘girl’ enough, and implied that she wasn’t able to ‘be herself’ there. The Witches in Homestuck canon - Jade, Feferi, Damara - all have great power over their aspect, and to imagine someone like Nikki wielding that over Breath, an Aspect related to change, to direction, to air in general, which is a free element in itself, is very good indeed.

Nikki is very impressionable, and as seen in a lot of episodes, usually goes along with a lot of things her friends do - she follows the people she holds respect for, examples being Ered in Camp Cool Kidz, Neil in Mind Freakers, Max in a lot of episodes but we’ll use Into Town for this example since she follows him around instead of Neil, and even Neilbot (who she thinks is Neil) in Anti-Social Network. Her allegiance in this sense is like the wind - free, ever changing, but mostly loyal to her friends in general. This eagerness to follow, however, is especially exploitable by people who know how to exploit relationships - people, perhaps, like a Prince of Blood.

-=-=-=-=-

SPACE KID, Heir of Space (One who Invites Manipulation of Space or one who Invites Manipulation through Space)

- I think we can all agree Space Kid is the Space player. It’s even in his name.

- “Heirs naturally gravitate towards their Aspect or unconsciously seek it out. They huge amounts of Aspect related strength as well.“ Being the grandson of Neil Armstrong - and being Neil Armstrong Jr., essentially - , of course Space Kid gravitates towards space. It’s in his blood to love Space. When he’s not consciously reaching for the stars it’s still on the brain and in the heart, and a lot of his actions are dedicated towards reaching the stars.

- “They may be very easily manipulated by others egging them on with rewards of their favorite object or obsession. They might even be manipulated by their random and changeable nature making them very willing to try new things.”

Space Kid is repeatedly described as the ‘most expendable’ character, oftentimes the butt of many jokes. His character episode, Space Camp Was A Hoax, even highlights how Max more or less tries to make him feel nauseous about space through that montage of him and Max ‘training’. In Bonjour Bonquisha, it’s a short event, but Space Kid is seen doing the gallon challenge - easily manipulated. Night of the Living Ill - Max manages to convince him easily to give him his space suit (not that he got to use it, but still).

- Also. Space Kid is Neil Armstrong Junior. Neil Armstrong is the first man to walk on the moon, while Yuri Gagarin is the first man in space. Being the grandson of the first man to walk on the moon means it’s in his blood. He’s, essentially, an heir. Of something space related. Eh? Eh? I’ll stop now.

-=-=-=-=-

TEAM GWEN

Role Recap: Gwen as Bard of Time, Preston as Thief of Heart, Nerris as Maid of Light, Harrison as Mage of Void, Ered as Prince of Blood, Dolph as Page of Life

-=-=-=-=-

GWEN, Bard of Time (One who Invites Destruction of Time or one who Invites Destruction through Time)

- This one got tricky. We had classpected nearly everyone else and we still lacked a Time player. We considered Gwen to be a Time player, though, and it stuck. It’d be a pretty cute callback to her liking Doctor Who, though, wouldn’t it?

- To directly quote dahniwitchoflight again, “Bards also ghost their opposite aspects, so a Bard of Time would also act much like a Space Player, in the beginning anyway. They try to avoid destroying anything and aren’t likely to believe in Fate or Destiny, but more so creating or changing their own fate in a precise way.”

A good example of this? Gwen, trying to change her fate as a counselor in Gwen Gets A Job.

Another direct quote: “Maybe it’s inevitable that they will never be a good artist and will go on a destructive spree, ruining all the projects they once loved because they think it will never happen, perhaps even listening to sad music in the process. Though eventually, if they take agency of themselves and don’t let themselves be controlled by the whims of Space, which is also impatience as much as it is beginnings, they will get through their crisis and be patient with themselves again that yes, they are pretty good and they’ll get better eventually, a good end will happen rather than a bad one.” Gwen’s got many anxieties and insecurities on her own in CC canon. But like a lot of us wish would happen, she can get better and get through a good number of her problems because we love her and wish her a happy life.

- This one is a friend’s observation - they associate Time players with keeping shit together (besides Damara, obviously, since the shit was not kept together), and Gwen? She definitely tries to keep shit together in camp.

- Bonus info: we have plans for Time player Gwen, so :)c

-=-=-=-=-

NERRIS, Maid of Light (One who Creates with Light or Creates Light)

- Obviously Nerris was a Light player. Light is primarily associated with luck and fortune, and Nerris is a DnD/PnP player - she relies on the luck of the dice to perform actions, doesn’t she? It makes a lot of sense for Nerris to have powers over luck and chance.

- Now, you’re thinking ‘why is Nerris a MAID? it doesn’t make sense!! nerris is no maid!!’ and you’re… pretty right, Nerris doesn’t seem like the Maid type (Maids in Homestuck canon include Aradia, Jane, and Porrim, for a comparison.) However, I did some research, and, if we’re following the inverse classpecting theory posed by bladekindeyewear, Nerris seems to be acting more like her classpect’s inverse, a Bard of Void.

Directly quoting dahniwitchoflight, “A Bard of Void as the other destruction class would also ghost Light as they destroy Void. They would be perceptive, attentive people and might like to hang around important or influential people. They might try to pop into the spotlight now and again to remind people that “Hey, I’m still here! Check it out!” They might super focus on a hobby or interest important to them or they might have a cool skill or interest that they want to be recognized for. They might be natural curious or nosy about a lot of things. They can act like a kind of satellite, hovering around others that they think are more important or influential than them. They might hide things from people, but make it really obvious that it’s hidden because they’re actually trying to drum up interest in whatever is hidden.”

Nerris, super focusing on DnD/PnP? Check. Wanting to be recognized for it? Check. Nerris, wanting to pop in the spotlight now and again? Also a check, though this one is built more on how we interpret Nerris - she’s part of the Performance Trio for a reason, and that reason is their love for the spotlight, wanting the focus on them. Nerris takes focus in S2′s Quest to Sleepy Peak Peak - or at least, tries to maintain focus. It’s supposed to be Nerris’s character episode, but she ends up sharing this episode with Harrison, and fights for the limelight with him during the majority of the episode.

In this line of thinking, Nerris, as a Maid of Light, rejecting her role the same way Rose does in Homestuck, goes on to ghost her classpect’s opposite, Bard of Void. In the end, however, should she eventually learn to accept her role as Maid of Light, these descriptions for Maid of Light become very appropriate for her:

“They might start out relying on all kinds of lucky charms and objects for any good luck and would heavily rely on superstitions.” - Her dice

“They would make their own luck and build up their own importance and influence.”

“They would be able to take something considered meaningless and give it new meaning, new significance. They would become amazingly aware and perceptive of the world and everything around them.”

- Also, Light is the opposite of Void. Who’s the session’s Void player? Harrison. Wouldn’t it be fine and dandy for her to be envious of Harrison here too?

-=-=-=-=-

HARRISON, Mage of Void (One who Understands with Void or Understands Void)

- “Mages will uniquely experience their Aspect, both good and bad. As a result, they gain a unique understanding of what their Aspect is or does.” Harrison has already experienced his Aspect, both good and bad - he’s an illusionist, and we all know he makes things appear and disappear for his tricks (good). However, he also made his brother disappear at some point (bad).

- “Mages of Void might constantly feel worthless and meaningless, like they’re totally irrelevant in the grand scheme of things and have nothing to offer. They may be unable to get anyone’s attention and be constantly ignored.”

Harrison, arguably, consistently experiences this, especially in Quest to Sleepy Peak Peak, faced against Nerris during the beginning parts of their adventure. He doesn’t even retaliate when Nerris calls him dumb and ugly - he just admits that it hurts. He’s a constant victim to Nerris’s barbs when it comes to stuff like this.

His character episode, however, Mind Freakers, shows that he loves the attention when he performs - he is part of the performance trio, and as such he has to have some love for the limelight, so when Neil tries to prove that his tricks aren’t real and that magic isn’t real, he’s genuinely worried about what the others will think. He’s afraid they will ignore him for the one thing he knows he can at least do semi-right - it’s shown that he takes pride in his skills as an illusionist (not so much his powers in making stuff appear), so to be ignored for even that little thing he uses to get others’ attention…

- To quote classpect-analysis, Mages are usually manipulated by their aspect, and, with Harrison’s aspect being Void, he has quite strong ties to the horrorterrors - which isn’t helped by the fact that he’s a Derse dreamer like all the players on Team Gwen. Should Harrison god tier, he would become someone to whom secrets meant nothing. He’d be able to see through any darkness, ignore any misdirection, and see in the nothingness what they need to see.

“The Mage of Void would also be able to stand more on equal footing with the horrorterrors, and likely could call upon them to bring the Void. They could also probably create illusions, and obscure themselves directly. In short, the Mage of Void has a very strong potential to be the one who brings the apocalypse to the rest of the session, and is incredibly skilled at knowing what others don’t want them to. Not a very cheerful class, but a very powerful one.“ Harrison has all this potential as a Mage of Void, but since he’s not very experienced yet, this isn’t possible.

- Harrison as well being a Void player is sadly a tragic joke… inexperience with his powers led to his brother disappearing, and so far, he hasn’t learned how to appearify him back yet.

- Our classpecting of Harrison as a Void player also ties in with how we classpected Nerris as a Light player, being the inverse aspects of each other. It’d tie in with their magical rivalry, and the envy Nerris most likely feels over the fact that unlike her, Harrison has real magic - this is paralleled in Campestuck, where Nerris ghosts the Bard of Void role, the inverse of her own classpect, in order to be better than the real Void player, Harrison.

-=-=-=-=-

PRESTON, Thief of Heart (One who Steals with Heart or Steals Heart)

- Fiddle herself admitted this was her projecting onto Preston, but, double checking it, the description for Thief of Heart definitely fits Preston.

- “Thieves have good intentions, and might be egocentric. They have natural confidence with their Aspect, but hide insecurities and hate being seen as weak.” Preston? Preston.

- ”They have a natural confidence in dealing with emotional and passionate people and in being truly unique to themselves.They are dangerously overconfident in themselves and their passions if anything.” We see a lot of this in his character episode in S1 - Romeo and Juliet II: Love Resurrected. He wrote and directed the whole play himself - dangerously overconfident, if you ask me. The poor boy can’t seem to chill.

- “Speaking of stealing Hearts though, I can see them being overconfident in emotional matters as well, ‘of course everybody loves me I’m great, so of course you’d wanna date me ;)’ or on another note ‘lol of course I can make that guy hate me watch this’. They can also be dramatic and overemotional beings, always feeling emotions in extremes. But something to be said about the Thief of Heart is that they are actually always very open and honest with how they feel and who they truly are and what they do and what kind of people they are. They might seem extreme at times, but they’re not lying to you. If they love you or hate you, you’ll know because they won’t shut up about it. “

One of the many characterizations of Preston has him as dramatic and overemotional (zero volume control, anyone?), and very honest. You see shades of this in Eggs Benefits the moment he’s sure Nurf can’t hurt him regarding the egg anymore: “I’M A HORRIBLE PARENT!” “You really are, Nurf.” He bluntly tells Nurf this, even after the guy pretty much beats him up. That’s him being open and honest about what he thinks about the whole thing.

-=-=-=-=-

ERED, Prince of Blood (One who Destroys with Blood or Destroys Blood)

- One of my favorites, personally, next to the Performance Trio because I am biased. The aspect of Blood seems to strongly refer to relationships and allegiances, and affinity and unity and all that jazz. The Prince class, on the other hand, has been shown to be about destroying with their aspect or destroying their aspect in particular. Combined, that means a Prince of Blood ‘destroys relationships or destroys with relationships.

- Ered as a Prince of Blood in this sense would work. We see in S1E4, Camp Cool Kidz, very strong evidences of her possibly being a Prince of Blood - after the campers usurped David and Gwen and took over the camp, the main reason the campers became divided was because of her in particular! She tore the campers apart - loyalties were tested, especially Nikki’s towards Max and Neil, being a part of the comedy trio.

Directly quoting dahniwitchoflight again, “A Prince of Blood would ghost Breath as they destroy Blood. They would be indifferent, unemotional, flexible, detached from anyone or the world around them and be extremely independent. They might have a tendency to separate themselves from others, not really feeling obligated to stick around or do anything with them and would hate actually being dependent on another person.” Does that not sound like Ered to you? The resident cool kid, just being cool like that. While not dependent on the other campers, she most definitely uses them as weapons when they are her allies - see Nikki, who she pits against Max.

Another direct quote: “But they could also destroy these same connections just as easily, liked hiring a mercenary. They would use the unwitting loyalty and bonds that others had for them to destroy and tear apart the bonds of enemies, or really anyone.” Again, Ered.

Now, I know what you’re thinking - “But that’s just Ered in one episode! You can’t base your whole classpecting on one episode!” But see, that particular episode is essentially an Ered episode - all the campers have their own camper-centric episodes, and Camp Cool Kidz is Ered’s, so it would make sense that a lot of her personality would be revealed in there. Ered is seen interacting civilly with a lot of the other campers in other episodes after Camp Cool Kidz, so we might be wrong. Still, it’s appropriate for Campestuck, and we’re going with this.

-=-=-=-=-

DOLPH, Page of Life (One who Invites Exploitation of Life or one who Invites Exploitation through Life)

- Poor Dolph. I like him a lot, he’s a very sweet character who didn’t deserve all those Hitler jokes that Roosterteeth made with him. While the Hitler parallels are inexcusable, he’s still, in essence, a child - he can change as he grows older. And, when he grows older, he can finally realize what the hell Neil’s problem is with him. Anyway.

- “A Page of Life would start out with a deficit in their ability to grow, their own power, or just their own status and wealth. They start out at the very bottom as the underdog. They don’t know how to handle wealth or power very well, and may wield any that they gain very clumsily at first.” Dolph’s character episode, Reigny Day, is unfortunately just a big Hitler joke, but if it is his episode, then at least a few facets of him can be gleaned from it. Given the position of counselor for the day, Dolph adopts the dictator-like persona, but as you can see it’s a poor persona - even if the judges for Counselor of the Year think otherwise. Dolph may have seemed like he handled that power well, but (god damn it, Roosterteeth) if visual indicators are anything to look at, he really wasn’t handling it well, especially when Neil ‘goes missing’. The visual indicators I’m referring to are the ‘crazy, stray hairs’ he gets as lightning flashes in the background. That scene.

“They think they do though, in fact they believe themselves worthy of more than what they currently have for sure, and just recklessly go along with any temptations that they might have. They think they are invincible or untouchable, when they’re really not. They also don’t have a strong grasp on the correct way to go about getting that status or wealth that they so desire. They think power and status means that they can just do whatever they want without consequence, and thus they act like they can get away with anything.”

Ugh. Even more Hitler parallels, unfortunately. Reigny Day is the prime highlighter for these aspects of Dolph. In Campestuck Dolph mellows out very slightly since Campestuck is set three years after CC canon (Max is 13 in Campestuck and 10 in Camp Camp), and thus these aspects aren’t as prominent, but they are still, unfortunately there.

“Since Pages are prone to having their temptations, their power and whatever status they earn exploited by others, they must be wary of anyone seeking to usurp what they’ve earned or own, or be wary of people directing them to do things that they wish to do, but don’t currently have the power to, while the Page of Life does have the power to do.”

Dolph seems very eager to please, and again, this is veering into interpretation territory, but over the episodes it seems he has some form of hero worship for a particular character. As the description above states, he must be wary of people seeking to usurp what he owns or has earned, because, perhaps, if he isn’t careful, the hero worship he has for the character may lead to his downfall.

Pages are powerful players, we know this - they just need to awaken their true potential, and Dolph is no different. He can potentially become very, very powerful - and if he’s exploited by someone who knows how to manipulate others to their own whims, he’s a dangerous enemy indeed, being the exploiter of Life itself. It’d be terrifying if someone - say, a Blood player - used him as a pawn for something other than winning the Game.

#camp camp #campestuck #classpecting #campestuck classpecting #classpecting campestuck

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