#it just feels like I haven't made a single bit of progress in the past year and a half and it fucking sucks

[special-agent-sass]

Elevator Passions

Warnings

Smut

Y/N sauntered into the bullpen, leather jacket squeaking as she walked. She headed straight for her desk, not making eye contact with anyone. The rest of the team watched her warily. Ever since her blow up with Gibbs last week, she'd been quiet and closed off.

Tony sidled up next to her desk. "So, Y/N/N, you coming out with us tonight?" He gave her his most charming smile.

She didn't even glance at him. "Not really in the mood, DiNozzo."

McGee piped up from his desk. "Come on, Y/N. It'll be fun!"

"Yeah, we haven't seen you outside of work in weeks," Tony wheedled.

Y/N finally looked up, pinning them both with an icy stare. "I said no. Now drop it."

Tony and McGee exchanged a look but didn't press the issue. Ever since Y/N had joined the team a little over a year ago, she'd been like a little sister to them. Former Marine, tough as nails, and beautiful to boot. But lately, something had changed.

Gibbs strolled in then, coffee in hand. "Gear up. Dead petty officer in Anacostia."

The team scrambled to collect their things. As they headed to the elevator, Gibbs grabbed Y/N's arm.

"You good for this?" His steely blue eyes searched hers.

Y/N yanked her arm away. "I'm fine."

Gibbs studied her a moment longer before giving a curt nod. They joined the others in the elevator, tension thick between them.

At the crime scene, Y/N immediately got to work photographing evidence while McGee bagged and tagged. Tony interviewed witnesses while Gibbs examined the body.

"Single gunshot wound to the back," Ducky pronounced. "No exit wound, so the bullet likely fragmented inside the body. I'll know more once I get him home."

Gibbs grunted in acknowledgment. He glanced over at Y/N, crouched low as she took photos. The sight of her ripped jeans stretched tight over her curves made his mouth go dry. Shaking himself, he turned back to Ducky. "Time of death?"

"Based on liver temp, I'd say between midnight and 2am."

Gibbs nodded, then went to check on his agents' progress. McGee had finished collecting evidence, Tony was wrapping up his interviews, and Y/N was scribbling notes about the scene.

Back at the navy yard, the team dug into the victim's background. Petty Officer James Rourke, 25, was a communications technician stationed out of Norfolk. No wife or kids, parents both deceased.

"Looks like Rourke had a bit of a gambling problem," McGee announced. "Some large cash withdrawals over the past few months that far exceed his salary."

"Owed money to the wrong people, maybe?" Tony speculated.

Gibbs turned to Y/N. "Bring up his financials, see if you can trace where the money was going."

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger. "You don't need to tell me how to do my job."

"When you're acting like a probationary agent, then yeah, I do," Gibbs shot back.

Y/N shot to her feet. "Just because I won't kiss your ass like Tony doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing."

"Hey!" Tony protested.

"You make one more outburst like that, you'll be riding a desk till you retire," Gibbs threatened. "You got that?"

Y/N stepped close until they were nearly nose to nose. Gibbs could feel her breath on his face, see the fire in her eyes.

"I could ride you instead" she taunted. "Clearly that's what you'd prefer."

Tony's jaw dropped. McGee's eyes bugged out. The bullpen went deadly silent.

Gibbs clenched his jaw, hands fisting at his sides. "With me. Now." He stormed off towards the elevator.

Y/N followed, chin held high. The doors slid shut behind them. Gibbs flipped the emergency stop switch, halting the car between floors.

He turned to Y/N, eyes blazing. "You ever speak to me like that again—"

"You'll what?" Y/N cut him off. "Spank me?" She stepped closer, breasts brushing his chest. "We both know you've wanted to bend me over your desk since I got here."

Gibbs swallowed hard. "It's against protocol." But even as he said it, his hands grasped her hips, pulling her against him.

"Screw protocol," Y/N hissed before crushing her lips to his.

Gibbs groaned into the kiss, backing her against the elevator wall. Their mouths clashed hungrily as his hands slid under her shirt, finding smooth, warm skin. Y/N nipped his bottom lip as she frantically unbuckled his belt.

Breaking the kiss, Gibbs rasped into her ear, "We shouldn't..." But his protest died as she wrapped her fingers around him. He shuddered, head falling back.

"I need this, Jethro," Y/N pleaded breathlessly. "Make me forget everything else."

Surrendering, Gibbs hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. Their clothes disappeared in a frenzy of tearing fabric and grasping hands. Then he was inside her, swallowing her cries with his mouth as he took her hard against the elevator wall.

After, collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap on the floor, Gibbs pressed a kiss to her hair. "I've wanted this...wanted you...for a long time," he admitted gruffly.

Y/N nuzzled his cheek. "Me too. Rules be damned."

Gibbs smiled and pulled her close. Protocol could wait. Right now, he had everything he needed.

#gibbs x reader #ncis gibbs #gibbs x y/n #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs #gibbs smut #smut #ncis #jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs

[batsvnte]

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞 • 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing(s): Wally Darling

Sypnosis: you seem to not get enough of these phone calls you’ve been getting from Wally. Not like how he’s acting recently

Warning(s): Obsessive behavior, cursing, reader is 0.01% away from breaking something, also hints reader is progressively getting sick, ooc maybe, not proofread

Song used: Telephone by Lady Gaga

Word Count: 2K

Notes: black gender neutral!reader (they/them pronouns) with lovesick! Wally. Here’s my go at the lovesick au heunehueeb— the color for the lyrics are killing me but it’s fine. Also decided to go for the second person to see how this works. Au belongs to @halohelene on tik tok, characters belong to @/partycoffin

Not that I don’t like you, I’m just at a party

You wished that you realized sooner.

The little signs that was being given off ever since that rainy day that occurred few weeks prior to what was happening now. You recalled how drenched everyone became since they were out in the rain. One of your neighbors, Wally Darling, specifically. Two days later is when it started showing physically since he was coming out to less and less. The everyone concluded that he was down with an sickness that Wally came down with.

Lounging around in your home without anything planned for the day as usual. Though part of you was reluctant to hear knocking on your door, or the phone's ringing. Waiting for someone to talk to you and drag you to bring them into their fun shenanigans they have planned for the day. You often shake away the thought, wanting the day to be by yourself as some way to recharge yourself due to your social battery being inherently low for the past couple of days.

You were broken out of your thoughts the moment the phone rang. You nearly shoot up right out of your seat before relaxing, realizing it might be one of the neighbors calling you. You suspect it would be Sally since she's been recently calling you a lot. For advice on the plays she has written and notes that she rambles to you about scenes. All the usual stuff that you and Sally would talk about for hours.

"Hello? (L/N) speaking." It was like an automated line that is always said whenever the phone was picked up by you.

No answer. You thought that it was some mistaken call that was directed to you. You were about to speak again before your voice was caught up in your throat.

"Hello neighbor.."

Wally's voice filled your ear. You haven't talked to him in a long while which surprised you in the slightest. Part of you was relieved that he was calling you.

"Hey Wally!" A smile spread across your face. "I haven't heard from you in a while. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling great, neighbor." Through his monotonous voice there was some bit of comfort for him through those words. "I'm so glad you picked up. I've missed your voice."

Here was the start of what you thought was to be a short conversation. Chatting about what you were doing the past couple of days and rambling about your interests to him. He didn't have much to say but he made it known that was listening to every single thing you said. Wally would often times thrown in compliments which caught you off guard. Maybe this was the first sign you needed to know.

"Look, Wally I need to go." It was your third reminder to him since you realized how long you've been in the phone for.

"What about the story? Can you tell me more about it, please?"

"I'll tell you soon."

"But–"

You didn't hear the rest of what he had to say due to bringing the phone away from your ear while uttering a quick bye before hanging up. You let out a soft sigh, not realizing how late it's gotten. The sun was already at its prime of setting, revealing only streetlights as its main source to see the outside world clearly. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you wondered what time it was. And how long you've been on the phone for.

And I am sick and tired of my phone ringing

Getting prepared for your night time routine you realized you weren't as tired as you thought to be. You just been staring up at the ceiling for the past consecutive hours of the night. You decided against your thoughts of attempted sleeping, getting up from your warm covers and into the chill air of your room.

You chose to do you hair, wanting a new hairstyle for yourself. Turning on some music just loud enough for you to hear only you started with plaiting your hair. You were somewhat aware of how long it would take, but it didn't matter. Just as long as you didn't sit around doing nothing without any ounce of exhaustion is something you didn't want to do.

Through the music you mindlessly part and plait your hair into tiny strands to make braids. You didn't realize how many you've done before you heard a noise. Slowly down your pace you glance to the radio that was carelessly tossed onto you bed. You've heard this song more than enough times to count the beats to the song.

Something about it was throwing you off.

Listening closely to the noise you've made a slow realization of the phone ringing. It was faint since the phone was in a completely different room but it felt like it was directly next to you. Questions starting to flood your mind as you finally finish the hair strands in your hand, directing your eyes over to the closed door of your bedroom.

'How long has the phone been ringing?'

It could've been minutes since the phone has been ringing. Getting a random call in the middle of the night scared you somewhat even though the phone line was directly connected to your friendly neighbors. You turn your head back to the mirror that you were seated in front of. It was better not to answer the phone right now since it was probably a random call accidentally made to you. But was it? You didn't know at all. You just needed to finish what you started.

After the final braid was done, you cleaned yourself up and flopped down on your bed. Barely missing the radio that tilted to the side due to your weight on the bed. Exhaustion finally caught up with you and you fell asleep.

Sometimes I feel like I live in Grandcentral Station

For the next couple of days was a never ending cycle for you. It weirded you out at first without any question. But the more you repeated the same action, it would just happen not even minutes later once you were away from it. Waking up to a mundane routine is something you wished for.

Wake up, get yourself breakfast, phone rings for several minutes, do you daily activities friends, get dinner, and go to sleep.

Wake up, phone rings for several minutes, get yourself some breakfast, the phone rings for an hour, do your daily activities, get dinner and go to sleep.

The phone rings for several minutes, wake up, phone rings for two hours, get yourself breakfast, the phone goes off, stay indoors, the phone rings, dinner, the phone rings, and go to sleep.

The phone rings again. The ringing was driving you insane. It was going on any time you were inside your own home. Whenever you went to another's house, their phone was silent as ever. Something that you had wished for. But it wasn't the only thing that kept you up late at night. You've been having conversations with Wally prior to the endless phone calls. Part feeling bad that he was still stuck in his home instead of being outside and spending time with the neighbors. You hadn't realize that his condition was getting progressively worse the more you kept talking to him.

Wally wanted to hear your voice more. He needed to hear you talk about whatever came to mind or was brought up. The sound of your voice was a melodious tune to him. Wally couldn't help it at all.

You wished you connected it sooner than expected.

And yet here you were. You were sitting down at the dinner table that was in your own home, your food gone untouched. You could only stare blankly at the plate in front of you knowing well that it's gone cold. Your eyes slowly drifted over to the phone that was resting on the counter. You had moved it during one of your calls with Wally so you can multitask: talk to him while making yourself something to eat. Easier and more convient for you, wasn't it?

It's been ringing once again. Your mind automatically thought it was Wally calling you again. It couldn't be anyone else to call you this late at night.

How else would he know that you tend to stay up into the late hours of the night. Or how you would wake up without a thought, doing whatever gets you back into exhaustion so you have more energy for tomorrow. How else could he know these details about you that you never mentioned.

You pushed the chair back without cringing at the screeching floorboard you caused it to make. You storm into the kitchen, opening various of drawers and digging through the various amount of supplies that you had stashed away. You were doing it aggressively to the point were you could've accidentally taken out an entire drawer. Pulling and slamming over and over again before you found what you were looking for. You scooped up a pair of scissors into your hands with the satisfaction of finally finding your desired item.

Pushing yourself away from the messy drawers and cabinets, you rush back over to the phone. You nearly knock over the phone which would've been desirable but it wasn't what you were aiming for. Going to the other side, you trace the long thin cable that connected your phone to the house, which gave access to anyone calling you. Finding no care for the length, you swiftly snip the cord in half.

An unfamiliar silence filled the room. Lowering your hands, you let one end of the cord slip through you hands and onto the floor. Relief washes over your body was you stand up properly. Sliding the scissors gently onto the counter. Turning away from the phone with no care what you're going to do with it. As long as it was silent, you were happy.

The phone rings.

You nearly snap your neck to look at the phone once again. Tou were thinking you might be imagining it all over again. The phone vibrates as the ringing starts up again. You were sure that you cut the phone line. What other cord could be connected to the phone.

'What the fuck is going on? Why is it ringing? How is it still ringing!? Just fucking stop!'

One thing led to another and you found yourself on the floor sitting against the wall. Viewing the phone that was at a distance due to it being knocked over by you throwing it at a nearby wall. It didn't break fully which made you more frustrated, but you didn't have anymore energy to deal with it. You were tired. You wanted it to stop.

"Now neighbor.. is that a way to answer a friend?" Wally's faint voice was heard through the phone, but you made no effort to get closer to hear him better.

"You destroyed your phone," Wally continues to speak with a loving tone in his voice. He sounds genuine, but you knew that there was another emotion present. "How can I be able to hear your voice if I can't call you.. Don't you think it would be better to visit me?”

You remained silent. Something about the suggestion was almost to good to pass up. It has been days since you’ve seen him, and you didn’t want anything more than to make up the lost time with the shorter puppet. But then again, Wally was sick and you weren't going to risk getting others down if you ended up getting sick as well.

You could only stare at the phone but you could feel Wally’s eyes focused on you. Eager for an answer.

Tonight I’m not taking no calls, cause I’ll be dancing

This is so messy omFG

I was working on another one au thing I saw on tik tok but somehow this au dragged me back here. I’ve been so stressed because of my grades and exams but writing this made me feel better at least. But like- you finna go see him or nah 👀

#ghouul #welcome home #wally darling #welcome home clown illustrations #apple to my eye 🍎 #welcome home arg #ghouul writings #wally darling x reader #wally darling x y/n #lovesick au #lovesick Wally darling #breaking phones isn’t fun wouldn’t recommend #songfic sorta #songfic #Wally darling x you #yandere wally darling

[boogiewrites]

Hindsight's Always 19/84 - Pt 1

Single Dad Eddie / Reader AU

You left Hawkins in 1984. You had no intentions of ever coming back. But life had other plans. You grew sick of the fake people and conversations, the classism and nauseating academic personalities of your past life. You craved life with its highs and lows, its triumphs and heartbreak over the beige monotony of white-collar progress. Now divorced and happy to be, you move back home. You run into an old friend, Eddie Munson. He was a memory that had haunted you for years. You haven't been the only one whose life has changed drastically. He's working two jobs and taking care of his son alone. You came back to Hawkins to find a new path, but you're faced with your younger self instead. Will you finally give her the answers she's always needed? Are you brave enough to say the things you couldn't before you left? With the growing connection between two broken adults, it looks like you never should've left.

You know what they say, Hindsight's always 20/20.

You walked down the stairs from your apartment onto the street. The sunset painted the town in nostalgia. Muted colors like looking back into your memories surrounded you. It all felt different and somehow exactly the same. You’d been back for about a month now. But with the exception of holidays, you haven't spent any time in Hawkins for over a decade. You didn’t even go to your 10-year high school reunion. You’d had no expectations of coming back here. Certainly not without an exit date firmly scheduled prior. But life is funny that way. You never expect to get divorced when you get married. You never expect to quit what once was your dream job. You never expect to move back to your hometown in some potentially pathetic, you hadn't decided yet, attempt to find yourself. Along with a lot of other lessons you were finally learning, expecting the unexpected was one being driven into your life hard.

So when you wandered the towns Main Street and saw the old record store you hadn't expected, but maybe you should have, the man standing behind the counter to be the boy who helped form most of those happy memories you’d come back home to revisit.

“We close in like 5 minutes. I can check you out if you know what you want but at 9 you’re getting kicked out.” He didn’t look up from the book of numbers he was staring at on the checkout desk.

“Oh shit. I didn’t look at your hours on the door. Sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush out, not even looking at the guy, his hair hiding his face as he leaned on the counter. You’d barely taken in the familiar space before feeling like a burden.

But then you hear your name called to your back as your hand sits on the door handle. That voice. You hadn’t heard your name said like that in so long. Not just from him but in a way that made it sound like someone was genuinely happy to see you.

“Eddie?” It leaves your slightly parted lips before you even verify the owner of the now much deeper, voice. It’s still cracked and popped when you heard it last. A young man with his training wheels freshly off was now grown before you. He looked so different. And just like the town… somehow exactly the same.

“Holy shit it is you!” his face lit up, it was a wonderful sight. Eddie was always a big emoter, being absolute shit at hiding how he felt on his face. And right now he was happy to see you. Your face was a bit more hesitant, only for the heavy smack of memories you were drowning in as you shared a silent smile, eyes very boldly meeting one another's.

“It’s me.” you held out your hands in a jazzy presentation of yourself that made him laugh.

“What are you doing here? Oh shit, is everyone okay?” His face went from curious to concerned in a flash.

“Oh yeah, the family’s fine.” you finally stepped forward and dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand. “I moved back.” he could see the way your jaw tensed when you said it. Last he’d heard you were married and working some white-collar job and doing just fine. He certainly hadn’t expected you to walk into his shop on a random Tuesday. He wanted to ask a hundred questions that had all poured into his brain but withheld.

“How long have you been back?” he got away with looking at your hands, checking for a wedding band as they ran through your hair nervously. There wasn’t one. That gave him plenty of answers to sate his intrusive tendencies. Little did he know you’d already looked at his ring finger to see the same.

“A few weeks. Not long. Just got settled into the apartment on 3rd street. Pure luck it opened up when I was looking.”

“An apartment?” he had a playful smile as he quirked his brow. “Would’ve pinned you for a house sorta girl.”

“Needed a change.” you wrinkled your nose, vague answers meant you weren’t ready to talk about it. Which he understood.

“I heard they re-did those recently.”

“Yeah, it’s way nicer than I expected. Overlooks the park which is very cute. And is a hell of a lot cheaper than my mortgage was.” a genuine smile graced your face, and the sense of relief wasn’t missed by him in your voice.

“Tell me about it.” he groaned and slapped the open book in front of him.

“Oh, doing the books?” you leaned forward curiously, intimately familiar with the layout of the paper before him. “Wait. Why are you doing the accounting?” you didn’t hide the confusion on your face as you looked back up at a smirking Eddie. His hair was the same save for the lack of bangs, a change with the times. He had a past 5 o clock shadow and light circles under his eyes. You knew you also had signs of wear and age on your face.

“Because I own the place?” he tilted his head to the side and chuckled. “You don’t have to look SO surprised.” he then broke into a laugh.

“Sorry! I just. Wow.” you shook your head.

“Give me a little credit. I’ve grown up since you last knew me.” a playful defensiveness was apparent in his shaking curls as he challenged your slack jaw at the news.

“I’m sure you have. Sorry. I didn’t mean to -”

“Shut up. I’m fucking with you.” the deepness of his voice bloomed out of a laughing chest. “I do own it but I agree I didn’t scream responsible business owner at 18.” he grinned. “I started working here shortly after you left and ten years later Mr. Orison wanted to retire and well…” he motioned to the room then let his arms slap to his sides.

“Good for you. Seriously. Running a business is fucking hard. People don’t realize it.”

“Yeah neither did I when I bought it.” he bent over and ran his hand through his hair, elbows to the countertop.

“I used to crunch numbers all day for a living so I get it. I’ll leave you to it. It’s past 9 anyway, I think you’re supposed to kick me out.” you smiled brightly, and you felt the strain in your cheeks. It’d been a long, long time since you’d smiled so big.

“You get to be an exception to the rule. You can wander around if you want. I don’t care.”

“No, no. I know you need to focus. I’ll get out of your hair.” you take a few steps back. “I could come back when you aren’t busy?” you offered, a raise of one shoulder to your chin.

“Yeah! Yes.” he cleared his throat and nodded enthusiastically, spooling out some blank receipt paper. “Since you’re back-back we should catch up.” he dabbed the pen to his tongue to get it to work, and a few shakes and grunts later he was writing his number down. “And I don’t mean in that fake reunion - oh my god let’s get coffee sometime kinda way.” he looked up, hang dancing over his papers as a fuller face than you recalled smiled at you.

“Glad we’re on the same page. I need some friends. Not gonna lie.” you chuckle nervously and give a purposely strained smile.

“Lucky for you, we are built-in friends.” he holds out the paper as you step back toward him.

“Good,” you say softly, ripping part of the paper and writing down your own information. “You’re busier than me right now so feel free to call me whenever and we can go not get coffee.” you joke and he accepts it heartily.

“You drink?”

“Not as well as I used to.” you laugh.

“That’sthefuckintruth.” he grumbled. “I’ll hit you up and we’ll go to the old Hideout. We’ll be two old schmo’s reminiscing just like the people we used to make fun of.”

“Sounds perfect.” the relief of something casual and easy flooded you. There was no pretentious pretext, no formalwear to buy, or people to schmooze. Beers, a dive bar, and an old friend sounded close to heaven after the way you’d spent the last decade. “See ya soon.” you wiggle your fingers in a wave before Eddie watches you walk down the street and out of sight, locking the door behind you.

“Well, shit.” he didn’t have to hide his smile now, chuckling to himself, rubbing his face as he walked back to the counter. “She’s back.” he talked to himself, no one else was around, and being alone was a rarity for him these days. He gathered up his books and looked at the mirror in the hall on the way to the back office. “And single,” he said to his reflection before looking over it and frowning at the sight. He looked fucking tired. In all fairness he was. “And you’re a struggling single dad with two jobs.” he sighed and looked away from the mirror. A reality check he needed was cashed to himself. He wasn’t exactly relationship material at the moment with barely any time for himself let alone dating someone. You were used to money and the city and some fancy-pants professor was your ex-husband. What’s a small-town mechanic with a sob story, a kid, and a treading water business going to offer you? He groaned, his annoyance clear on his face as he plopped into the old creaky leather chair. Little did he know, that craving a slice of real life, something raw and passionate, full of imperfections was exactly why you’d left your husband and old life behind. He had more to offer than old romantic nostalgia. He just didn’t know it yet.

Eddie arrived at the trailer he was pleased to call home. A double wide with a room for him and his son and for Wayne when he wanted to stay over. He didn’t live far from his uncle and he didn’t want to be away from him, truth be told. He’d landscaped the place, out in the field away from the clusters of other trailers, a little fence, and a bricked-in foundation. He was proud of what he’d been able to create for his little family.

Eddie was happy to admit now that the calling from his kid as soon as he noticed him walking into the door made every bit of worry fade away for a few minutes.

“Daddy!” a very active toddler ran and stumbled toward him, falling and ignoring the failure to get swept up in his dad's arms.

“Hey little man!” he tossed him into the air, a favorite pastime of his since he was tiny. “I see we had spaghetti for dinner.” Eddie laughed, grabbing a noddle from his shirt and eating it noisily to make him laugh.

“He’s as stubborn as you.” Wayne chuckled, a grunt as he raised from the couch. “Refused anything else. Remember when you’d only eat pickles and ranch with butter noodles for dinner for a while?”

“It’s still good.” Eddie grinned, shifting the kid to his hip.

“Your taste has always been questionable.” Wayne teased. It was always with love.

“It’s a point of pride.” Eddie smiled and shoved a fork into the pot of noodles left on the stove.

“We were about to get settled for bed. Someone had a long nap today and messed up his routine.”

“Did not!” a very adamant and incorrect claim came from the small version of Eddie.

“Terrible two’s.” Wayne glared and wagged his finger as he hunched toward the kid before grabbing his side to tickle him and make him scream.

“How about we go play sea monster?” Eddie suggested, the kid's eyes lighting up.

“YEAH!” his little fists clenched.

“You handle the bath I’ll clean up.” Wayne pats his adopted son’s arm.

Eddie was elbow-deep in bubbles, soap in his mouth, and water in his eyes as his boy thrashed in the water. A rouge rubber dinosaur bonked Eddie in the head.

“Asteroid!” he shouted, slapping Eddie with a wet ball in the face before slapping his hands into the water full of floating dinosaurs.

“I thought we were playing sea monsters?” Eddie asked, a washcloth rubbing behind his son's ears.

“Monster rock! Gahhh!” the little gremlin growled and slapped the ball down again.

“Ya know what? Fair.” Eddie nodded, a resigned purse of his lips as he scrubbed away at his slippery like an eel, arms. “You remember this one’s name?” he picked up a plastic dinosaur.

“Robert!” Eddie bent his head down and laughed, soaping the boy's hair into a little mohawk.

“He’s called a T Rex. Remember their science names?”

“Robert! Ahhh!” he slapped the toy out of Edie’s hand as he kept laughing. He was a bit biased but he thought his kid could be the funniest person to ever exist. He was aware that him having his DNA did make the chances of them having a similar sense of humor high but… he could make Eddie laugh harder than anyone else.

“So we’re choosing chaos over learning tonight.” Eddie nodded, accepting that his attempts to be a good dad who taught his kid things at every available opportunity were going to fall onto bubble covered ears tonight.

“Chay ossssss” he made a grumpy face, doing his attempts at a metal scream, having heard the word growled many times in Eddie’s music choices.

“Oh, it’s gonna be that kinda night, huh?” Eddie perked up. “You wanna sing Metallica?” He asked, soaked hands slapping out a beat on the side of the tub.

“BUM BUM BUM!” he banged his little head, mimicking his father.

“Sanitarium!” Eddie had never held back with his music and his little man. He seemed to love it.

“Leave me be!” he clapped.

“Sanitarium!”

“LEAVE ME ‘LONE!” his little chin jutted up as he declared it to the ceiling with the rage only a small child could deliver.

Sure Eddie’s parenting wasn’t exactly orthodox. But then again who in their right mind would’ve expected it to be?

After a very messy round of monsters in the tub, rubber toys are everywhere, and towels and washcloths are strewn and slapped to the plastic walls of the shower tub. Bubbles floated and faded, clumps in Eddie’s hair. He wrangled his son into his pajamas, reading him to sleep with Lord of the Rings, doing the voices, and living his DM memories in his performance. Soon he was sound asleep, worn out and content. Eddie dimmed the light, ruffling the dark soft curls that resembled his own before a kiss on his baby lotion-smelling cheek.

He came into the kitchen with a loud yawn, stretching before hitting the fridge for a beer.

“He had a good day today.” Wayne nodded, sitting at the kitchen table.

“Good.” Eddie sighed with a sip.

“How about my other baby? What day did he have?” Wayne smirked, sipping his mug of coffee.

“You’ll never guess who’s back in town.” Eddie shoved a fork full of leftover spaghetti in his mouth that Wayne had set out for him.

“Rude to leave me hangin’.”

“Remember that girl I used to run around with back in high school?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously? You didn’t need any other information?” Eddie laughed, mouth full of spaghetti.

“No offense son, but you weren’t exactly surrounded by girls back then.”

“Harsh.” Eddie grinned. “But true.” he nodded. “She’s back in town.” he muffled out in bites.

“Her folks okay? I always liked ‘em I’d hate to hear something bad happened to ‘em.”

“That’s what I asked her.” Eddie smiled, being made more aware of Wayne’s influence on him every day since his son was born. “She said her family’s fine.”

“Oh, you talked to her?” Wayne said impressed.

“Walked right into the shop.” Eddie held out a hand in a surprised shrug.

“She married who? A teacher?”

“Professor of English.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “But!” Eddie’s eyes lit up in a way Wayne hadn’t seen in a long while. “She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”

“So you looked, huh?”

“I’m no homewrecker.” Wayne’s shoulder shook with a laugh at Eddie’s defensiveness.

“Since when?” he smirked.

“She didn’t say anything. Just said she moved back. But we swapped numbers and she wants to catch up.”

“Well, that couldn’t have gone any better for you could it?” Wayne said supportively. He’d always liked you. You were a bit wild, sure, but so was Edddie and he knew he was still a good kid.

“I mean it could have.” Eddie gave a little snicker and his cheeks turned a bit pink as Wayne snorted and threw a napkin at him.

“What’d she think of you? Business owner, two jobs, a kid. Big difference from when she knew you last.”

“She was surprised by the business. But that’s all I shared.”

“Ed…” Wayne chastised him.

“I know. I’ll tell her, obviously, I just didn’t wanna do that thing I do where I start talking and don’t stop. And next thing I know I’ve told her too much and she’s backing away.”

“Did she have any kids?”

“Don’t know. She didn’t say anything either. I don’t remember hearing that she did.” Eddie shrugged, shoveling the rest of the food into his mouth, bowl tilted up.

“Odd for a woman her age to not have a kid.” Wayne’s brow creased.

“C’mon Wayne. You’re more progressive than that.” Eddie grumbled.

“You know I’m all for people making their own choices, but she was married for a long time. Call me curious.”

“I’ll tell you everything when I talk to her.”

“When’s that gonna be?”

“When can you babysit again?” He smirked.

You were surprised but pleasantly that it took Eddie only two days to call you. You suppose he wasn’t lying about wanting to be friends again. Why wouldn’t he? You were thick as thieves in your teens. You got on like a house fire when you were together. You were hoping that you hadn’t changed so much that he’d find you boring now. You were still in the midst of figuring out who you actually were and how much beige you had unwillingly absorbed from your previous life path. Eddie was still spunky and lively with his alternative clothes and hair, free flow of swears as sentence enhancers without care behind it, and a heart that seemed to still be pinned to his sleeve. You envied that. You hoped it rubbed off on you.

You wore an outfit your ex-husband would hate out to the bar that evening. You’d been making a habit of doing things he hated. It was your new favorite pastime.

So it meant that much more when Edie greeted you with his full attention, pulling out a chair and giving you a charming smile that people took classes to learn how to do in the city. While he was naturally gifted and wholesome and genuine.

“Hopefully it’s okay for me to say this. If not- feel free to twist my ear- but you look really pretty tonight.” It was the wholesome version of what he was thinking. The maxi skirt was made out of some flimsy material that his fingertips itched to touch. It had some Asian-inspired dragons on the bottom, and a tank top matching the color of the trim of the skirt was paired with it. Some chunky sandals that made you almost as tall as him were hidden under the skirt. Little maroon-painted toes peeped out as you sat. He noticed they match your nails and lipstick. You hadn’t been so put together when you were younger. Jeans, the same beat-up sneakers, and a t-shirt were the rotation of choice. You never presented as particularly feminine, not like this anyway. He thought you looked great, but it made him wonder what else had changed.

“Thanks. I really liked this outfit.” Your smile was soft and sweet as you accepted his chivalry of pushing your chair in.

“The dragons are badass.” He gave an approving nod as he sat across from you.

“They’re really trendy right now.”

“Trendy?” He smirked.

“There’s currently an uptick of Asian-inspired ornamental detail right in teen fashion design. related to the rise in popularity of Japanese influence in youth counter-culture.” Eddie blinked a bit befuddled at the sentence that came out of your mouth. You could see it in his very readable face. You’d lost him. You wore the same look around your ex’s colleagues as they discussed the literature of old white men like it was written by God. you’d always been lost and you hated that you’d just done the same to Eddie. “Sorry.” You wrinkle your nose, frowning and Eddie leans in to give you an apologetic look. “We’re gonna be friends right?” Not the smoothest starting point but it’s what came out.

“Uhm. Yeah? I hoped so.” His eyes squinted, uncertain.

“Then I’ll start with being as transparent as possible with you.” You splayed your hands out on the tabletop. “I’m used to talking to people that demand that you constantly impress them with intelligence. It’s awful and I fucking hated it.” Eddie cracked a smile as he watched your face start to give over to emotion. “It’s a habit to say things in a way that’s unnecessary and academic sounding instead of talking like a normal person. I’m trying to break the habit. So sorry if I sound like I have my head up my ass when I talk sometimes.” Eddie was still for a moment, meeting your tired eyes before laughing.

“You did sound very smart.” He consoled you.

“Thank you. I hate sounding elitist. you don’t need to know how to cite references to be smart.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” He gave you a cheesy grin.

“Perfect. You’re exactly who I wanna talk to then.” You reached out to touch his hand before withdrawing it. “I should’ve said yes, dragons are badass. Having them on a skirt makes me feel cool.” You chuckled and tucked your hair behind your ear nervously.

“You still into that stuff? Fantasy? Dragons and Knights and Damsels?”

“I’ve always liked the aesthetic. I haven’t read much since I left here.”

“That’s a shame. You used to read all the time. I still do.”

“I started to hate it after I married someone who did nothing but read. And base their entire existence on it. Sucks all the fun out of it. He was very good at doing that with anything.”

“So… ex… husband then?” He boldly asked, motioning a finger to your naked ring finger.

“Very much ex. Excommunicated I wish.” You smiled. “Exterminated. Expelled. Ex…plodded.” You laughed.

“That what brought you back here?”

“Is it that obvious? I’m just some cliche of a woman now. Coming back home to find herself after leaving a bad man.” You put the back of your hand to your forehead playfully.

“Nothing wrong with leaving a bad relationship.”

“Thanks.” You say quietly. “So now you know I left my old life and moved back here. What’s your story?”

“I’ve been up to plenty.” He turned to laugh nervously. “You started with the biggest thing so-“ he grunted and shifted to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “Here’s my biggest thing.” He pulled out a photo and handed it to you. It was a photo of Eddie holding a baby. “That’s my little Teddy bear.” He smiled proudly. Your hand shot out to grab his forearm.

“Ohmygod… you have a baby??” Your face lit up and relief washed over him in a chill. “Look at him! Babies usually look like little potatoes but he’s so fucking cute Eddie.” You whined, holding the photo in both hands as if you were cradling it.

“I know I’m biased but I think he’s the cutest baby to ever exist.” he took great pleasure in the fact that Teddy was part him. His sweet dimpled smile made that obvious.

“He could be. A front-runner for sure. He looks like he fell right out of your ass.” You laughed and touched the photo lightly. “I bet mom hates that, huh? All that work and he comes out looking just like you.”

You saw his demeanor shift, the brightness fading ever so slightly. You’d said something wrong.

“She’s not really uh-around.” His eyes wandered the tabletop for a moment.

“Oh sorry. My big mouth.” You wince and hand him back the photo.

“No, no. It’s just… I don’t ever talk about it since it’s a small town and everyone knows already. It’s a real fuckin buzzkill but it’s just facts and you shared with me so I’ll share with you.”

“You don’t have to if-“

“No, it’s fine. Me and Teddy are doing great now. She just uh- she had a heart defect that no one knew about and having Teddy well… it gave out on her.”

“Holy shit.” You let slip out on accident. “Sorry I don’t mean to be so crude about it I’m just surprised. I mean that’s… the worst.”

“We were together but not like-“ his nose twitched and he got the feeling he was about to overshare.

“I’ll answer any question you have if you want. But you don’t have to share with me unless you want to.” It was a heartfelt offer he appreciated.

“I do. We wanted to catch up so this is getting you up to speed.” He shrugged. “It’s been years ago now. Teddy wasn’t planned, we weren’t together when she got pregnant. But she wanted a baby and you know me, I wasn’t going to not be there for the kid after the upbringing I had so I did the right thing and proposed but she didn’t want to get married until after the baby but… yeah. So it could be a lot worse I guess? Is that bad to say? Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve talked about it. “He shook his head and laughed awkwardly. “Teddy’s none the wiser. I named him Theodore because that’s what she wanted to name him. So Theodore is his middle name and I went with what I wanted, which was Ronald. Well, I wanted Ronnie but Wayne wouldn’t have me naming the kid a nickname. So his official name is Ronald Theodore Munson. But Teddy ended up being what stuck. He’s an affectionate little guy. Also a lot of hair like his parents.” he added with a sad chuckle.”He’ll probably get tired of it when he grows up and go by Ronnie, I figure.” You were gazing at him with a soft smile, seeing him talk about his kid.

“Eddie and Teddy. It’s too cute.” You sighed out, a short-lived giggle making Eddie’s cheeks flush for some reason. “Please tell me you named him Ronnie after THE Ronnie James Dio.”

“Yeah.” He admitted and looked away before you burst out laughing and reaching out again for his arm. He really liked that you touched him so much. It made him feel a weird hopefulness that didn’t exactly have a target goal he was willing to admit yet.

“God that’s perfect. I love that. No sarcasm. It’s fantastic. A+ name choice. Highly approve.” You gave him a small clap. “I think you should name your kids something fun and interesting. I love that you did that.”

“You have any kids?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “I never tried. Never wanted to with Chris.”

“So that’s the wet blankets name.” He smirked.

“Yes, it is. And a perfect description.” You commended him. “He’d be a terrible dad. I didn’t want a kid that looked like or acted like him.”

“If you don’t mind me asking. If you hated this guy so much why’d you marry him in the first place?” You gave him an out-of-place smile, grateful for real questions.

“Honestly? He was safe.” You shrug and sigh. “He had a plan and was smart and good with money. Well connected, good family, all that horse shit.” Your eyes shot to Eddie as he let out a chuckle. “I partied my first year and almost flunked out, realized I had to actually try to do well in college. I was having your standard identity crisis and met him. He seemed like he had his shit together. So I hitched myself to that wagon and rode it all the way to a degree and a life I didn’t really want.”

“So that’s why you never came back.”

“Yeah. I was being indoctrinated by WASP’s.” You grumbled. “Made me hate this place and look down on it. Which isn’t right at all. This place is more real than anything they have in their gated communities.”

“So money really can’t buy you happiness?” He lightened the conversation.

“Turns out it’s true. But man it helps.” You laughed. “I was able to deny how unhappy I was for years because of money. But it only lasted so long.”

“What made you finally leave?”

“It wasn’t really one thing that did it. It’s whatever the last straw happened to be. And… it’s stupid.” You looked down and huffed out a laugh.

“It’s you, I know it’s not stupid.” The earnestness in his words made you look away for a moment before a nervous smile appeared.

“He made fun of a book I bought.” you admitted with a monotone delivery.

“Not normally grounds for divorce but a dick move.” A playful judgment was in his nod as he side eyed you. “So he made fun of it but what was the actual reason?”

“You’re still perceptive.” You give him the same smirk.

“A blessing and a curse.” He put a hand to his chest.

“It was one of those cheesy romance novels. A bodice ripper. The guy with the long hair in the wind on the cover and his shirts half open and the woman has fainted in his arms and they’re on a mountain top or some shit.” Eddie laughed and nodded. “I wanted something to enjoy. Have a good time reading it and maybe get a little thrill or something in the meantime. And so we’re in bed and he’s got his notebook and whatever he’s reading and he notices I have a book, which was different and he asks me what it is and I tell him and he does this little face I hate where he’s pretending to be interested like he’s in a fucking infomercial all ‘hmmm interesting yes’” You rub your chin and nod exaggeratedly and it makes Eddie laugh. “Who’s the author? He asked, I tell him. What else have they written? I don’t know. ‘You picked up a random book and bought it?’ Yeah, it looked fun. And he LAUGHS. And this man doesn’t laugh. He asks if any of their work would’ve had articles written about it by his peers and I just snapped.”

“He was doing that shit on purpose.” Eddie poked a finger at the worn tabletop.

“Thank you!” You slapped the table.“He’s got all these stupid questions and I just wanted to hit him over the head with the book. The next morning I went to my lawyer.”

“You work fast.” Eddie sputtered out, surprised.

“I realized that was going to be every interaction for the rest of my life with him when I showed interest in something that wasn’t up to his standard. And I fucking had it. I was done.”

“Good for you.” He says back and raised a hand to the bartender. “I’m buying you a drink on behalf of real readers everywhere.”

“Thanks.” You smile and settle into your seat, calming yourself back down. The wound was still very fresh.

“The fact that you said you went to your lawyer has thrown me for a fuckin loop though.” He grinned. “Never thought I’d hear something like that coming from you. Unless it was for a DUI or something.” He teased.

“When you make money you realize the work that goes into keeping it and turning it into more money and that means lawyers and banks and reps and accountants and specialists and brokers and-“ you groan.

“What the hell kind of work did you do?”

“White collar business. Numbers. Money.” You nod. “The only good thing that came from that relationship was I learned how rich people use their money and I protected myself. Everything was kept separate and since he only had a part-time professor gig since he was on a never-ending quest for more degrees his folks paid some of the bills.”

“Oh god, a trust fund baby? Really?” He cringed. “You knew better than that.”

“I know I know.” You roll your eyes. “But you also understand how scary the world is when you don’t have money. And just a taste was enough to make me sell out. I’m not proud of it. But I’m proud of where I am now.” You sat up straighter. “In a small studio apartment in my hometown. Unemployed, single, and totally fucking winging it.”

Two long necks appear at the table and he raises a toast.

“Here’s to totally fucking winging it.” You happily clinked your bottles together. “Ever since Teddy came earth side and my tentative plans went all to hell with becoming a dad I feel like totally winging it is an understatement.” He sighs. “I worked at the record store forever then suddenly I owned it. I’ve got a loan and very little business knowledge and a new baby and I’m a future spouse short on support and income. And now I’m working days at the body shop in town and holding my breath.”

“I’m not gonna lie that’s a lot.” you gave him a sympathetic pout. “For anyone. Do you need like- help or anything? I mean I did help people run businesses in a past life.”

“Honey, you do not deserve to be dragged into my bullshit circus of a life.” the way he spoke reminded you so much of Wayne.

“Maybe I wanna be?” You shrugged and let the offer hang in the air. “I mean I don’t have a job, you’d be doing me a favor. I can look over your stuff and give you some advice and if you like it you can put me on retainer.”

“I don’t think I could afford you.” He smirked at the underlying double meaning to which your snorted at.

“Friends and family discount.” You nodded. “Or I can just… I don’t know… you need someone to watch Teddy?”

“You’d do that?” He seemed genuinely surprised and it shocked you.

“Yeah. Childcare is ridiculously expensive. I could cut a day or two off a week for you. Use him for ransom so you have to hang with me again?”

His face lit up and he wiped his smiling mouth with the back of his hand after taking another drink.

“Or just ask like a normal person.” He snorted.

“Sounds boring.” You muttered before taking a sip and sending him into another laugh.

“You sure you wanna get mixed up with me? You just got back, you’re dealing with your own stuff I don’t wanna add to it.” He offered you a chance to withdraw. You weren’t interested.

“I’ll come clean, Eddie.” You began and took a deep breath after a deeper swig of beer. “Coming back here, I had a few hopes. And being able to reconnect with you was one of those to be perfectly honest. It’s this new thing I’m trying.” He gave you a crooked smile, a dimple deepening in his cheek that lured your gaze to it. “And the fact that you’re willing and want anything to do with me after I left is more than I could hope for. I came back here to be around real people with real lives. I would love to help you with your business too. I’ll do it for free, I don’t give a shit. Because you’re a real person with consequences for your actions. Not some numbered entity of an LLC bought off a drunk golf game bet.” You took a deep breath and saw his face warm and open, shoulders a little slouched. “So short version- yes. I want to be involved in your bullshit.“

“Good.” A simple answer with a complicated proposition. “I want to be involved with your bullshit too.”

You’d been to six different businesses today. Your feet were tired, having not been accustomed to being in heels all day for months. Your suit felt stiff despite how much you knew the fabric cost. You’d found a few leads but mostly the role of bookkeeper was locked down by someone who should’ve already retired. Change was vital to business survival and these people didn’t seem to care if their taxes had been done the same way for the last 20 years. Small towns, man.

A whistle breaks your grumpy demeanor you weren’t trying to hide anymore since exiting the back office of the noisy Chuck E. Cheese. You blinked, head snapping to the sound of sucking teeth before seeing the playful lit up face of Eddie as the source.

“Sorry sugar, thought you were someone else. You’re clearly a business lady, my mistake.” he wheezed and coughed with his laugh, splayed out in a red vinyl chair among the scattered groupings of parents and kids.

“Fuck off.” you laughed, hissing it at him quietly to not become the witch in a witch hunt the barking of the word fuck in a place like Chuck E. Cheese would surely start. He pulls out the empty chair next to him and slaps the cushion.

“Take a load off fancy business pants.” he grinned deep, smile lines siking farther into his face than they used to. “Your feet have got to be killing you in those shoes. Christ, woman. What are you wearing those torture devices for?”

“Old habit.” you groan, wrinkling your nose as you plop down, crossing your leg over your knee toward him.

“Why are you in a kid’s pizza place in a suit?”

“Been going around cold calling about work today.”

“Old school.” he nodded in approval. “Any luck?”

“Some bites. Nothing concrete. Franchises like this have to get everything approved by corporate before they can even move around where the napkin holders are let alone hire someone.”

“Sounds like a ring of hell to me.” he muttered, leaning in toward you, his face facing the play area.

“Are you here with Teddy or out hunting for single moms?” you snort.

“I can do both.” he laughed, your chests moving the jabs at each other. “I was actually out hoping to bag a lady who can make me look even more like a deadbeat dad than I already do by simply sitting next to me.” he looked you up and down to sell the joke before you understood he was talking about you. “You look like you’re here to supervise a custody visit, man. What is this?” he tugged at the collar of your suit jacket.

“It’s call professionalism.” you sat up and wobbled your head. “But it is overkill in Hawkins.” you sighed and took off the suit jacket, hanging it and your purse on the back of the chair. “I look like I gather “protection” money.” you go ahead and roast yourself. “Do I look less like a narc?” you ask, fluffing your hair and in a button-up shirt with no stuffy jacket with a single button undone. “That better?” you slouched back into the chair, hands crossed on your stomach.

“Depends on the connotations of what you’re applying the word better to.” He didn’t look at you when he said it but the smirk was audible in his voice. Your head is noticeably tilted as you lean in toward him, shifting in the seat.

“You’re gonna give me war flashbacks to fundraising dinners talking like that.” you chuckled, looking out to the smattering of kids, seeing if you could pick out which was his. There wasn’t one screaming or chewing through the ropes so that theory was out. “Although they weren’t nearly as flirty as you, you scamp.” you snorted and watch his grin beam across his stubbled face.

“My main outlet for flirting is with women at the shop,” he admitted, turning his head back toward you. “And don’t get me wrong, it’s fun. A bit awkward with how heavy they’re willing to lay it on, man. You’d be shocked at the people that have offered to pay in other ways.” he wiggled his brows.

“You get rid of me and suddenly you’re swimming in p-” you stop yourself and look around with wide eyes, remembering where you are as Eddie cackles loudly and slaps your leg. “I’m not used to being around family-friendly environments.” you purposely wince and watch his laugh take over his entire demeanor. People turned to look at him but he still didn’t care. It was comforting to know that hadn’t changed.

“I’m no pro at it myself. Don’t worry. When we’re not in public you won’t have to hold your tongue so much. The first time Teddy swore I almost hyperventilated I laughed so hard.”

“Speaking of, where is he? Can I meet him?” Eddie turned to find your eyes bright, brows high and hopeful. “Or maybe not. Is that too soon? I should ask permission first, right? I don’t know how kids work, sorry.” Again, that now deep, gravelly laugh gritted out, the years of cigarettes still in his throat as he pat and rubbed your shoulder.

“You remind me of me when I first got him home. What do I do with this thing?” he mimicked fear and holding a baby awkwardly. “He needs to take a break and get a drink anyway.” he sat up, cracking his back and groaning. “Teddy Monster?” He shouted hands clasped to his mouth, startling the other restaurantgoers.

A small screechy roar is heard, a section of ball pit busting up into the air and a curly mop-haired little cherub-faced cutie pie flopped over the barrier with a cackle much like his dad’s. He rolled out onto the foam playmat-covered floor and stumbled a bit before finding his footing and booking it toward Eddie who was running at him full speed, hunched over, hands clawed both growling at each other. He yanked him up as he lept at him fearlessly, tossing him in the air, before pretending to eat his stomach, holding him sideways, raspberrying his tummy before so easily tossing him into one arm and plopping him down on his knee at the table.

You took in the funniest little gasp of air when you realized you hadn’t breathed the entire time you’d watched him. Gulping and regaining your senses, shocked at yourself. Your eyes dilated at the sight of Eddie with his kid. Oh god, your inner voice groaned. Was the biological clock thing actually real? Was this what that was? Did you just ovulate at the sight of your high school crush simply playing with his kid? Should you be ashamed? Because you sure didn’t feel ashamed.

“Get a drink, bud.” Eddie brought the plastic cup to Teddys grabbing hands. “You having fun?” he kissed his impossibly soft curls, slightly damp from sweat.

“Mnfg- yuh- mmffpptt” he spluttered trying to answer and gulp at the same time, he gained a chuckle from you and both the dark-eyed boys turned to look at you in unison.

“Hi!” he said with a wet face and a smile that looked so much like his father's it made your chest hurt.

“This is Daddy’s friend.” Eddie put his hand on your shoulder as he introduced you.

“Hi Miss.” he nodded and waved with one hand, the other still grasping the cup Eddie was balancing for him.

“He calls all the ladies at the daycare Miss.” Eddie explained.

“So polite.” You couldn’t help how you cooed at him. Eddie noticed. “I’m excited to meet you Teddy. Maybe me and you can be friends like me and your daddy are?” With wide eyes, he nodded in agreement.

“He’s super friendly. Never met a stranger. Didn’t get it from me.”

“Dad.” He gasped, raising his t-shirt to wipe his face. A habit he surely picked up from Eddie. “Can she play?”

“Ask her.” He chuckled, smoothing down his waves.

“Wanna play?” He perked up, leaning to put his hands on your knee.

“I absolutely do!” You couldn’t figure out how Eddie ever said no to that face. You reached down to slip off your shoes and a smile Eddie purposely held back on started to grow. “You like the ball pit? It’s my favorite.”

“Me too!” He clapped his hand together and started wriggling out of Eddie’s hold. You pulled your hair back again and gave Eddie a nod. “I’m gonna hurt myself so don’t make fun of me.” You said quietly before standing.

“I’d never.” He put his hand to his chest defensively.

“Come ON!” Teddy’s squatted form growls like a professional metal frontman as he stood waiting for you to catch up.

Eddie sat back, leg bent over his other, hands laced together to fit behind his head. He watched you get tugged mercilessly by his son into the ball pit in a suit that probably cost so much Teddy couldn’t even fathom a number that high yet. You looked expensive but it was clear you were priceless. You slid headfirst into the concerningly sticky ball pit. You were caught up in the cutest kid you’d ever seems energy and found yourself forgetting you hadn’t played in 20-something years and you’d be feeling the ache tomorrow. Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off you, getting jumped on by Teddy, mashed into the pit, and pelted and screamed at. Other kids joined in, happy an adult was getting on their level. Eddie was known to crawl around the tubes on the play area from time to time but got dirty looks from the other parents. Aware that his own reputation now affected someone besides himself he’d pulled back on the public displays of feral behavior.

As he watched he let himself hope for a moment. Seeing a best-case scenario play out in front of him, his worries that you’d be averted in some way from him because he had a kid we’re floating away, replaced with a shameful optimism it could be a pro instead of a con. He’d be a blatant liar to himself if he tried to say as soon as he saw you walk into his shop the thought of being with you again hasn’t popped into his head. However, sex at 17 is a lot less complicated than sex in your 30s, at least for him. Eddie had big feelings. Especially when It came to you. He had a kid and jobs and a life he’d worked so hard to create that bringing someone in without immense forethought wasn’t something he was willing to do. Sure he’d banged his way through some women in Hawkins to pass the time but he had no intentions of being with you physically unless that also came with the emotions attached. There was no you for him without emotion attached. And watching you with the most important piece of his life, slotting into their dynamic with ease made him let out a deep sigh. With the worry of you approving of being in his life in any capacity in relation to Teddy aside. It let the gates open for many other far deeper running concerns.

You had a good run, laughing as you hopped out of the ball pit and stumbled falling flat on your ass, the kids all pointing and laughing. A very sweet little girl came over to help you up but you were also too busy laughing at the situation. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, your knees ached from crawling along the bottom of the pit after a very rambunctious Teddy who really seemed to like hiding and popping out at you as you stalked him through the large rectangle space. Your muscle was awake with freshly pumped blood, cheeks rosy, and hair a mess, half out of its scrunchie as you tugged the rest out before dramatically collapsing into the chair next to Eddie.

“How?” You panted out, still smiling.

“How what?”

“Two things.” You hold up your fingers and steal a drink from his cup. “One, you must be in incredible shape to play with him like that. That’s crazy. And two-“ you took another drink, finishing it off and meeting Eddie’s brightly amused face. “We need to isolate what gives them that level of energy and sell it.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Eddie chuckled, half muttered and reminding you of his uncle. “A real answer, I don’t keep up.” He admitted willingly. “A true but more boastful answer is work keeps me in better shape than I’d be in otherwise. So that helps. And he slowly got bigger so it’s not like I could throw him around overnight. I’m figuring out what that dad strength people talk about is.”

“Man I’d like some of that if it made my arms look like that.” You blurted out the specific compliment without much thought, happy on endorphins from exercise. You and Eddie were always playful and flirty but you didn’t know where the line was between you now. Or where the line even was within yourself. Did you want to flirt with him? I mean really purposely flirt with bitten lips and side eyes and hushed tones? Because there were levels to this now. It wasn’t heh I like your Metallica shirt let’s make out in the back of your van about it anymore. You kinda wish it was though. Man, you had some good times in the back of his van.

“Oh you bought a ticket I see.” He said with no notion he was joking, rolling up one of his sleeves.

“What?” You blurted out with no flirt to be found in your scrunched face.

“To the gun show?” He asked as if you were stupid as he flexed and you groaned and threw your head back. You were split between two moments in time for a second. You were two obnoxious teens in the diner being loud and completely oblivious that anyone else was around again. He cackled and you slugged his defined arm. More tattoos than you left him with covered the planes that shifted as he ran his hand through his still unruly waves. You felt young again. There were more seen and unseen scars now, permanent tiredness under your eyes, more wrinkles, and less graceful bodies but something felt youthful about being around him. And Teddy now. There was some addictive spark they lit in you. They were the sort of people your ex and his lot would’ve mercilessly insulted and looked down on. And they were exactly the sort of people who seemed to be able to remind you that yes, you could feel happy and have fun. You weren’t broken. There was nothing wrong with you. You simply hadn’t been in the right place with the right people. And now- somehow in Hawkins- a place you’d been so dead set on leaving forever turned out to be that place. Maybe it wasn’t so much the where but the who.

“I can’t even insult you now by saying you tell dad jokes. Any joke you tell is a dad joke now!”

“Oh no she’s figured out my superpower!” He laughed and raised his hands like a cartoon villain.

“Oh no! He’s too powerful!” You coward back in your chair with raised hands as if to block a magic spell cast. He shoved your thigh and almost made you fall out of the chair which only made you laugh harder together. it felt right. You both knew it. It was almost malleable in the air between you as you sighed and wheezed coming down from the interaction. You were so caught up in the moment, cheeks flush and boldly gazing at each other, wondering which questionable thing to say aloud next you didn’t even see Teddy also noticing the chemistry.

“Is she your best friend?” Teddy asked with a tilted head, as calm as you’d ever seen him gazing up at your dad in a similar way that you were. “Cause me ‘n Wes. We do that.” Such an astute observation for the little man. He was observant and clever just like his dad.

“I’m not your best friend?” Eddie pouted and reached down to bring him into his lap.

“Duh.” His little eyes rolled and you held in a snort at the display of attitude. “At daycare dad!”

“Oh of course.” Eddie relented to his miniatures putting him in his place. “You’re my best friend, Ted, you know that.” He kissed his cheek and the kid pushed him away, making you grin.

“More than one bes friend.” He held his dad's stubble-covered cheeks and spoke to him as if explaining something to well… a child.

“You can have more than one best friend?” Eddie raised his brows.

“Yes!” Teddy said annoyed. “Tell dad.” he looked over at you with his demands and you wanted to do whatever he asked.

“You can have more than one best friend.” You gave him the same attitude his son was and he chuckled, his cheeks mushed by tiny hands.

“No!” A slap to his thighs. “Tell dad you’re bes friends!”

“Oh sh-nap.” You muttered in surprise. “You’re my best friend Eddie.” You said with no hesitation. And honestly… it was the truth.

“You’re my best friend too.” You held eye contact for a moment before Teddy moved his dad's face back to face him.

“Good job!” He pat his cheek and you wanted to puke it was so cute. “Love you!” He chirped and planted a kiss on his face.

“Love you too.” You knew I’d you could feel the truth in his words that Teddy could too. “Are you about ready to go?”

“Aw, man.” He slouched and pouted and you swear it sounded just like Eddie used to.

“We don’t have to go yet. Do you need to go potty or want more pizza?”

“No.” He shook his head hard. “Gonna play.” He stuck his little Tongue out in concentration as he dismounted Eddie’s long legs and went back at it.

“Have fun.” Eddie shrugged as he was left without so much as a second glance. “He’s getting so good at talking now it blows my mind. He’s so smart.”

“Of course he is.” Your tone clearly told him to not say what he was about to. “I’ve heard reading to them helps a lot. And I’d bet you do plenty of that.”

“Yeah.” A closed-mouth smile grew from his pride. “Almost every night.”

“He’s yours of course he’s going to be the smartest little gremlin. He looks just like you, he might as well act that way too.”

“He acts like Wayne sometimes and it’s hilarious. Old man stuck in a baby’s body.”

“You act like Wayne sometimes too.”

“Shit, don’t I know it. More now than ever.”

“I’d you’re gonna act like someone he is definitely one of the better choices.” Eddie nodded in agreement. “How is he by the way?”

“Still kickin’. He retired. He’s still in the park, not far from us. He watches him a lot. Too much. He’s taking away all his retirement but he insists it’s better he watch him than leave him at daycare.”

“Grandpa Wayne.” You smiled contently and watched the kids for a moment. “He’s always had papaw energy.”

“He oozes papaw energy.” Eddie chuckled.

“The offers still open to watch your hellspawn by the way.” You smirked. “Give Wayne a much-deserved day off from time to time. I could pick him up if driving him over is out of the way. I’d like to see Wayne actually.”

“He’d love to see you.” Eddie gave you a soft smile.

“Really?”

“He asked me 50 questions when I told him you were back.” He paused and glanced away for a moment. “He always liked you, you know.”

“I always liked him.” You added supportively. “I got you out of your room and out of his hair of course he liked me.”

“We spent plenty of time in my room when he wasn’t home.” It almost came out as a murmur, he didn’t dedicate himself to letting the small reminder of your past put into the current timeline. He’d toed past the line of friendly Flirting and had brought a slice of nostalgia into the conversation that hadn’t been breached yet. It had to happen eventually. You couldn’t act like you hadn’t spent a chunk of your time inside each other in the past. But saying hey remember how we used to fuck had seemed a bit heavy-handed.

He watched you huff out a laugh, almost embarrassed as you looked down and smiled, mouth opening and closing to figure out your response. Weighing what was appropriate and what would be best for two old friends with heavy lore.

“Yeah.” Your lips twitch and you let out a giggle he’s never heard before. You missed how soft his face got when he watched you hide your face. “Yes, we did.” A slight blush filled your cheeks as you smiled.

“Do you remember… back then?” His voice was quiet, soft as if tip towing around it might make it feel less in your chest. He held his arms crossed over his front like it might shield him from the consequences of his question.

“I do.” Your voice also fell to an almost whisper, unlike you both to be subtle or timid with one another. A smile that tightened your lips, almost a purse appeared, eyes still not meeting his that was far too forward for you to meet just yet. “Do you?” you asked with a jutted-out chin. You weren’t really trying to hide the way his stare made you uncomfortable. You were too busy trying to analyze why it was. His soft laugh answered you before he did with his words. Oh yeah. He remembered.

“Oh! Hey!” you heard feet head your way and were startled. Eddie cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, the tension of the moment broken. “What was your last name again? They couldn’t find you in the database?”

“Oh right.” You said to the person you’d spoken with in the office. “Recently divorced. Might not be updated yet.” You explained and handed them two business cards. “Here’s both versions.” Eddie side eyed the worker, unnoticed a bit miffed she’d brought up your ex. Way to totally kill the mood.

“Thanks! You’ll hear from me soon.” They said rather convincingly.

“Let me see one of those.” He asked with a nod and a wiggle of his fingers.

“You want one?” You gave him a kind smile and handed him a lovely embossed rectangle. He smiled softly, crow's feet deepening at the edges of his eyes, just visible past the fluff of waves.

“It’s got your name on it.”

“No shit. It’s a business card.” You whispered and he snorted out a laugh.

“I mean your real name.” He said with conviction. “You changed it fast.”

“Not legally yet but I wanted to separate myself from his name as fast as possible.”

“I like this version better.” He said with a nod, flicking the card. “I’d hire this lady, I wouldn’t hire the other.”

“Does that mean I’m gonna get all up in your books?” You grin and nudge his foot with yours, still bare.

“Do you have to put it that way?” He snorted out a laugh.

“Yes! I get unrestricted access to Eddie Munson.” You pinched his knee and he kicked you in response. “I’ll need bank statements and your monthly, and yearly records as far back as you’ve got them and your tax returns.” He could see the excitement in your eyes.

“I take it back you’re way too into this.” He pushed your chair away with his boot and you scoot it back again with a playful back and forth.

“I’m in my element, man. And I’m dealing with you, not some rich asshole!” You both giggled as you quickly lowered your voice and hunched over from the looks thrown your way.

“We aren’t meeting here next time you’re gonna get me banned from Charles Pizzaria. Fine Italian Dining.” He pinched his fingers together and did a horrifying attempt at an Italian accent.

“God you still suck at that.”

“You suck.” He bit back and kicked your chair. Another flicker of a time jump, both snorting and laughing in his van, high as hell, shoving each other with insults thrown that never had any malicious intention.

“You wish.” Your 17-year-old self came out of the woodwork. You’d said it so many times in response to his poorly thought-out jab. It’s always ended in more shoves, which led to rolling around and wrestling which led to Eddie on top of you which led to a cocky remark which led to… you could guess. Your ears ran hot at the memory. “I guess I shouldn’t say that to someone I’m working for.” You let yourself snort and shake with a laugh.

“Extremely unprofessional.” He tsked.

“You gonna leave me a bad review?”

“Horrible.” he smirked.

“Can I earn a good review or have I ruined my chances?”

“Make me a millionaire and I’ll consider it.”

“I mean I know a guy. Recently divorced. Millionaire family. He would suck Hemmingway’s dick for SURE so I mean you might stand a chance.” you both sputter out a laugh.

“Oh, tell me more.” Eddie crossed his legs and put his hand to his chin.

“He only has three topics of conversation, you know, like a pull-string doll. He’s only had sex in two positions so you know - consistency right? And he does whatever his parents tell him to!”

“Who would leave a catch like that?” Eddie wiped the beginnings of a tear from his eye.

“Some dumb bitch.” you leaned in and whispered, sending you into another shared laugh.

“I don’t know I think she’s really smart. Whoever she is. Especially for leaving him.” his eyes were sincere, but the smile still weighed heavily on the spectrum of giving you shit about marrying such a douche.

“She’s made a handful of good decisions in her life.” you nodded, a more thoughtful smile falling into place. “More as of late. Maybe she’s getting less dumb.” you shrugged.

“I don’t know.” he shared the same subtle shoulder movement. “I think she made a few good decisions in the past.” A lump in your throat grew and you quickly swallowed it down.

“Yeah?” you tucked your hair behind your ear and felt so hopelessly obvious. “Maybe…one… or two.” Your words sunk to nearly a mumble. You looked the same to him in these fleeting moments he got under your skin, in your head. He knew it was selfish to want to hear it from you that you remembered who you two used to be. Especially so soon. But the memories were still so strongly imprinted on him that he had to know if you’d thought of him as often as he’d thought of you over the years.

“That’s a short list. Must’ve been something really important.” he leaned in so subtly, slowly, smoothly. His elbows to his knees, long fingers, still in rings just like he was still 17, laced together. You stuttered like a fool under his gaze. His eyes were even prettier than you’d recalled. Molten chocolate, honey, and caramel. Just as sinfully tempting and potentially bad for you as the sweets. Your lashes felt heavy and obvious as you slowly blinked, licking your lips, finding yourself as short on words now as you ever had been when he directed his attention solely on you.

As children always have, Teddy decides that now is the best time to get his foot caught in a rope net, interrupting the precious moment. A squawk and scream, unsure if it was pain or amusement carried across the brightly colored space.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Eddie muttered as you both bolted toward the little monkey hanging upside down.

The brief scare had triggered his neediness, refusing to be looked at or held by anyone but his dad after he slipped his ankle out of the soft braided thread. Eddie prayed no one cared that Teddy was attached to his front as he drove home. A little snore and blub from time to time as Eddie kept his large hand on the child’s back, rubbing it soothingly as he drove.

“C’mon Teddy Bear.” a name he used when he was feeling particularly soft for the wild little creature he’d helped create. A small grunt of disapproval was released as he was lifted and brought into the dark house. Eddie didn’t bother turning on the overhead light, a lamp would suffice. “You wanna wake up? Get ready for bed? We could do a bubble bath? You want a story?” he offered things to the smushed face with barely open eyes adamantly shaking his head, refusing to lift his head from Eddie’s chest. “You want daddy to hold you and you sleep on me?”

“Yeah.” the first nod of the nap. With a resigned sigh Eddie managed to kick his boots off and get his jeans on the floor, left in unevenly slouched socks, boxers, and a t-shirt. He switched on the radio, a quit afterthought as he took Teddy’s ensemble off piece by piece, having purposely chosen every piece. With a new set of matching jammies, a dinosaur print that he’d nearly had a meltdown over when he saw them in the store. Eddie set his notebook and the book he was currently reading on the nightstand. He sank into the small bed, propping himself up with the pillows, setting an alarm on the clock radio just in case. Teddy still clutched to his chest, already back asleep. A lazy hand pat to the beat of a fading song on his butt, the other with Eddie’s fingers in his mop of curls, mouth, and nose nestled into the nest and taking a deep inhale. His eyes looked out the window, the sky was navy, a calm sky, and a slight sway to his shoulders, not purposely, as he rocked Teddy back and forth.

“And next we have a hit from the year 1984. She just came out with another album but this one from her 1983 release of She’s So Unusual is still one of her biggest hits. This one brings back some great memories for me, maybe it will to other listeners out there tonight. Here’s Cyndi Lauper with, Time and Time.” the typical radio announcer's voice echoed in the small room with the slightly crooked wallpaper Eddie had hung himself. He let out a sigh, not needing to hide it from anyone, the back of his head against the headboard covered in stickers and markers. The year 1984 haunted him for plenty of reasons. The first time he failed senior year. The main one on his mind tonight was that it was the year you’d left Hawkins. You’d said you’d hated the school dance fodder songs as much as he did. Which couldn’t have been true because neither of you actually did. He thought Cyndi Lauper was weird and hot. Much like you were. The song was catchy, heartfelt, and now a nostalgia bomb of memories. You in a second-hand prom dress, dancing with him. You both swore you hated it. Again. Not true. The way you’d looked at each other was proof of that. The way you’d scrapped together enough money for a dress was even more proof. You were just as soft and terrified as he was. A smile crosses his face, feeling a warmth in his chest at the thought of the full-cheeked and big-haired you in your youth. Flashes of smiles, of fights, and long nights running away from your lives together. The memories had kept him company often through the years. He’d thought about you a lot. Wondering if you were okay. If you’d felt the same way he had. He’d go back and kick his own ass for not telling you how he felt before you left if he could. But those thoughts, that anger was pointless now. Learning to live with the choices you make when you didn’t know any better was something Eddie had to quickly learn to accept. His smile deepened at the prospect of knowing you now. Of getting that second chance of closure. It was a messy can of worms to want to open. Sometimes memories were viewed with rose-colored glasses and weren’t as they truly were at the time. But bless Eddie’s soft heart he couldn’t help himself. He’d never been one for making smart decisions.

PART 2

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[every1sno1fangirl]

Happy Hifuumo Friday everyone!

I kind of forgot it was friday, sorry about that! Things haven't been great for my mental state since I came back home. I really miss being around my friends.

It served as a stark reminder that my home life isn't the best.

But I don't want to dwell on that, especially here. So I would rather talk about the last few days of my trip and all of the pictures I took there instead!

We went to the Museum of Pop Culture! There were lots of different exhibits there that were really cool.

Though in all honesty, I kind of enjoyed the trip to IKEA more. It was my first time going there and I was with a smaller group of friends which really helped me.

I was distracted during the trip itself, and I feel bad about that. But I have a lot of fun memories there.

There were lots of different things to take pictures with. I'm actually not sharing most of them; this smaller period has by /far/ the most amount of pictures I took for a single Hifuumo Friday occassion.

And most importantly, it gives me a sort of 'backlog'.

That backlog exists juuust in case there are weeks where I'm not able to go out and get new ones. There have been a few occasions in the past where I have not been able to after all.

And who knows what the future holds? I /try/ to go out every week, but sometimes...

Sometimes it just isn't possible because my body or mind doesn't permit it. In fact, there was a few occasions on my vacation where it sort of 'ruined' it for me?

My friends were quick to assure me that it wasn't a personal feeling, but I still feel really bad about it.

We went out to have Teppanyaki. The whole point of it is that little 'show' where they actually prepare the food. I'm sure they had a blast watching it.

I was in the bathroom. By the time I could finally get out, the show was over and we were leaving.

My last night there was sort of miserable as well. I couldn't eat the food that one of my friends made because of my sensory issues, I had a little breakdown about it, and while the ice cream we got after was nice, I was not prepared for the movie we watched after that.

'BİRDMAN or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)'. It was a good movie, I liked it very much. But I was already not doing well emotionally and I was not at all prepared for some of the content in it.

If you've watched it before, you probably know what I'm referring to.

I should have said something while we were watching it, or just removed myself from the situation, but I didn't want to 'make even more of a fuss'.

My mind sabotaged itself like that constantly. I know my friends would have understood if I had just said something.

I felt better a bit after, when I returned to where some of my friends and I had been staying the past two weeks.

Knowing it was my last night was a little bittersweet, even if that particular Airbnb gave me mixed feelings. (The bathroom had a frosted glass door...)

But I felt more determined than ever to get more of a hold on my life and do what I have to do to be able to see my friends like that again.

As soon as I got back home I resumed where I left off on getting the help I need to move forward in life.

It's a journey. One I've made so much progress on already with these trips alone, but I have much more to be made just in front of me still.

See you all next week. I hope you have a good day/night everyone, I love you all!

#hifuumo friday #maribel hearn #renko usami #hifuu club #touhou project #fumoposting #fumo #touhou

[goodbysunball]

Cement mixer blues

A couple more for your March, with Opening Day right around the corner. Four picks, all hits, and more waiting in the wings - but until then:

Thomas Bush, The Next 60 Years LP (Jolly Discs)

Album number three from Thomas Bush, one carving his own path through the history of quietly devastating British folk. That Bush has much to do with "folk" in general is debatable at this point, but there are fractured fragments within his damaged, precise compositions. On The Next 60 Years, he refines his vision further, not solely through reduction (though that, too) but with a bit of surprising bombast on the B-side. "Same Life Flowed" opens the album with plodding pop, the double-tracked vocals opening up just enough during the chorus to complement the harpsichord melody, and runs into the pensively dueling guitars on the accurately named "Pure Intention." As is Bush's wont, the album never keeps a straight course after this beautiful opening; some songs, like "Mulligan" or "Flood of Light," creak like floorboards in an empty house, whereas "Face In the Water" jumps out of the speakers from behind the curtain. I've never pieced together any influence of Talk Talk or Mark Hollis on Bush's sound, but now it's crystal on "Burn Clear," the patiently brushed cymbals and pattering drums pairing with slowly ringing chords, all directed by Bush's carefully delivered vocals. The samples on "Burn Clear" get turned inside-out on "Face In the Water," its booming synth chords leaving backwards bubbling loops in their wake, the distortion becoming ever more prominent as Bush's most clear, confident song unravels over its duration. The synth chords turn green midway through, and the garbled loops run rampant to cloud any pop ambitions with more unease. The album closes with the quietly devastating "Xtrails," a repeated descending progression of guitar notes and scattered synth chords, tying the album together neatly with only the necessary ingredients. In early listens, "Burn Clear" and "Face In the Water" were the highlights, but now tracks like "Thirsting" and "Xtrails" have become my favorites, the ones where Bush takes something recognizable and strips it to a skeleton and makes the bones vibrate with noise, creating a new story for the figure largely free from its past. Stunning, especially during my pre-dawn drives, but potent enough, and enveloping enough, to transport the listener from start to finish anytime. Sold out at the source, but I suspect copies will land stateside soon; if not, All Night Flight is handling the distribution - hop to it.

Contaminated, Celebratory Beheading LP (Blood Harvest)

Amidst a glut of ho-hum, self-referencing contemporary death metal, I wasn't really prepared for the complete onslaught that makes up Contaminated's second LP. I liked Final Man a lot, but things seem to have gotten a lot bleaker in the seven years since that came out, and Celebratory Beheading is the record that balls up collective agony into relentless, boneheaded death metal. It takes all of 15 seconds into opener "Suffer Minutiae" for the band to launch into a chugging breakdown riff, and even after multiple spins I feel as if I haven't captured the right words to describe music so single-mindedly brutish. There are no synths, electronics or really anything resembling a breather across the album. This new-look Contaminated feels like layers alternating between Carcass (pre-Heartwork) and Autopsy, with a dash of County Medical Examiners or other goregrind practitioner. Each song is made up of multiple movements, which is the stupid way my brain's been reduced to describing this record when it's on, but the very basic recipe is to pound with death metal crunch and follow it up with a grinding blast, before pulling back and taking another swing at your head. These parts are masterfully fused together without gaps or any recognizable structure, suffocatingly dense compositions coming one after another. Once your ears adjust, the pieces of the bulldozing sound can just barely be picked apart. The drummer's right up front with the vocals, and the two seem to goad each other on; the guitars, drenched in distortion and as beefy as I've heard (sans exterior electronic noise) in ages, churn out mercilessly hard or dizzyingly fast riffs. "Final Hours" is the point in the record where I finally catch my breath, and by "Apex C.H.U.D." (stands for Circular Headbanging Under Duress, pretty sure) you're stomping around like a sumo wrestler. Imagine running in a sewer tunnel away from a tidal wave of waste, each turn bringing no more distance or relief from the chase; at some point your legs and chest give out and you submit. I haven't looked at the included lyric sheet - the album and song titles are illustrative enough - but this seems to be the soundtrack to intentionally hammering a nail through your finger, pure visceral animal thrill, presented without concessions or interludes. My favorite record of the year so far.

Los Doroncos, Sun and Fireworks LP (An'archives)

There's nothing like the first whiff of springtime to bring me around to an album that made little sense during the dregs of the new year, and Los Doroncos' Sun and Fireworks is one for the ages. Seasoned vets with deep ties to the Japanese underground - members from Denudes, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, Doronco Gumo - but what you get here is a dream dive bar band, playing music both intimately familiar and somehow buoyant, not bogged down with expectations or concerned with much else than playin' hits. If the band set out to make classic rock feel fresh again, they nailed it, taking the scoff right outta my throat and using it to hit another solo. The band rips on the two longer tracks, "A minor" (one of the young year's best tracks) and "Drum," but elsewhere things are downright breezy. Guitars are largely unadorned until solos call for distortion, vocals are charming, paper-thin but hopeful, and the drums do enough to keep everything together. For me, any cynicism is eradicated by the beautifully disarming guitar lines littered about in "LuLu 2," but just as often it's the solo pushing its way through the clean chords of "Tin Ear." I'm in the midst of fixing up my porch, and if I get my way, I will be having a few beers back there with Sun and Fireworks elevating my mundane accomplishment. Come through.

Peg, We Know Who You Are and Everyone Is On the Lookout CS (No Rent)

Meeting of the minds between Cube's Adam Keith and Jackie-O Motherfucker's Dave Easlick, both of whom previously teamed up in SPF. I can't remember SPF's music much, though it may be time to revisit given how much I've enjoyed Peg's debut cassette. The music on We Know Who You Are feels like dub recorded without or presented without permission, as if found on a thrift store cassette, and then given added rhythm by Easlick and Keith's drumming and programming. "Mutual Percussion" is a sterling example, drums fading in and out while viscous treated guitar bubbles and the sound of a breeze or footsteps periodically emerge to confusingly give the feel of a field recording. The album feels sometimes ominous, sometimes sarcastic; the intention feels pure but you're never quite convinced with a track like "Agenda Jazz," either. Beyond sifting through the tape for intention, there's deep enjoyment here, skewering and distorting sounds in a way not unlike Equipment Pointed Ankh, though Peg's got a decidedly more abstract, glowering, smirking result. Hard to pick favorites, but if forced: the slouched strut of "Athletic Posturing"; the disarming "Everyone," all glistening synthesizer and distant drums; and my favorite, "Bog Standard," Easlick letting loose on the kit while a bassy loop and high-pitched noise build towers in the shifting sands. Really feels like these two met each other head-on this round, keeping stakes low for themselves but understanding one another intuitively to create one of last year's best albums.

#Thomas Bush #Jolly Discs #Contaminated #Blood Harvest Records #Los Doroncos #An'archives #Peg #No Rent Records

[thaliagrayce]

i've been talking abt my voltron playlists and @iveofficiallygonemad asked to hear them and i want to share with anybody who wants!! i know they're not perfect, i'm working on them & trying to make them better. if you have any recommendations for any of them, let me know!! there's like A Lot and i want to give a lil explanation for most of them, so i'm putting them under the cut ^-^

SO first i have my favorite one <3 it's just. all of them. it's the whole team. it's a mess and it's a bunch of different genres because it's them fighting over the aux cord on a road trip. it's them trying to make each other laugh or annoy each other or play something catchy enough it will infect everyone in the vicinity with brain worms.

Hunk: i'm pretty happy with my Hunk playlist! chill vibes. he strikes me as the kind of guy who listens to calm music to try to find his own calm, and that's what i got here :)

Pidge: this is messier and less cohesive than my usual playlist because frankly i think pidge would have a shit taste in music. all over the board. this is a mix of meme songs and 8-bit covers and vocaloid and stuff that i think pidge would genuinely connect with, and i think pidge listens to all their music on shuffle without any regards for genre or mood because they're a gremlin. nobody gives pidge sole control of the aux.

Coran hears 80's music for the first time and loses his mind. He thinks ABBA is humanity's single greatest achievement.

Lance: i have ideas about where I'm going with this but haven't really settled yet. Lance seems like the kind of boy that loves to dance (is that canon? i forgot) so most of these are Bops That Make You Move in some way or another. he likes to present an upbeat face to the world, so there's no angsting in this playlist! we are clinging to the things that make us happy with both hands until our knuckles turn white!

Keith: i'm gonna be honest. i made him a playlist but i honestly don't think he cares about music very much. it's very important to some people! he's just not one of them! i haven't cracked this playlist open in a while but i'm pretty sure it's full of songs that i think he would conceivably train/work out to.

Shiro: this playlist involves the dumbest headcanon i have for shiro that has just not left me alone since i first thought of it. most of the playlist reflects the fact that he had an emo phase in middle school (that one isn't a headcanon, you just have to look at him to know) but BUT there are a few songs on here that are on here because. little known fact. he also went through a Twilight phase that he told nobody about. (keith knows. keith was there.) he has the entire twilight soundtrack memorized. he moved past the story but the music stays forever. he used to daydream about slow dancing to Flightless Bird, American Mouth. the first time Coran mentions that they have to avoid a place because there's a supermassive black hole there, he has to bite his tongue in order to keep a straight face. do NOT ask me why i believe this so wholeheartedly.

Allura's playlist sucks right now. I think it's because in my heart of hearts i know that, were she on earth today, she would go fucking nuts for taylor swift. i have ambivalent feelings for taylor swift. i cannot do allura justice like this. if you see my vision and have recs as to what might actually fit her, PLEASE.

Klance: i haven't done it yet but i'm gonna go through this and sort it to be a sort of progression of their relationship, starting with the more combative Rivalry songs, then slipping into "oh shit oh shit" songs, then maybe ending on the more lighthearted purely romantic songs <3

(i have two songs in a shallura playlist which does not at all encapsulate how much i'm obsessed with them. the tiny cop inside my head is just constantly screaming at me that i'm going to get yelled at for liking shallura. i am going to kill the cop inside my head.)

#mj talks #oooooh i don't know if i actually want to put this in the show tag. that's a lot of people. that's a lot of people that might see this. #fuck it we ball #voltron #anyway. as i said if you like music and you have songs that you think fit please send em over #also who wants to talk about shallura? i want to talk about shallura. #i rewatched the first ~3 seasons (the best part of the show and some of season 3) with my roommate a while back and. #ngl if we're strictly talking about the show itself and not fanworks. i care about shallura SO much more than i care about klance. #oh i should probably tag #klance #in case anyone has that blacklisted and just doesn't wanna see it #BACK TO MY POINT. #rewatch seasons 1 and 2 and you will see there was a REASON everyone included shallura in the background of their fics #and it wasn't just shoving 'space mom' and 'space dad' together #there is a very real and very compelling dynamic there. the mutual respect. the connection that comes with taking responsibility. #watch shiro's whole deal after allura gets herself captured so that he can go free and try telling me it's all in my head. just TRY. #anyway i have a lot of complicated thoughts about shiro's sexuality and most of them boil down to I Don't Think It Was Planned #i think they shoved it in last minute because somebody higher up #(not the writers i don't blame u writers i know that you have people breathing down your necks telling you what you can and can't do) #some higherup didn't like any queer storylines that might have been in the works and pulled them from the show #but then there was fan backlash because... gay people are loud now? people wanted A Queer In Space? wild thought #so they had to save their ass and actually deliver on what they had promised in interviews/on the internet/idk i didn't keep up too much #because it was so clumsily revealed! there was no buildup! #it felt very shoehorned to me unfortunately. when a) they had already built a solid and compelling potential relationship for shiro #(see above) #and b) klance was? right there? like. dude. you /had/ to have seen that. or at least some of it???? #backstory dead fiance was not the best move vis a vis queer representation and i reject him #if you want me to care about a relationship try going back to storytelling basics and Show Don't Tell :) #not giving you brownie points for that 'queer representation' :) #anyway. that's my shallura manifesto in the notes.

[lollytea]

Willow thoughts, Willow thoughts, Willow thoughts. Scattered rambles about my little blorbette

The way they've been drawing Willow in recent episodes has been very subtly changing but I like how they're easing back on this little smile she used to do that really emphasised her chubby cheeks and made her look absolutely precious, though a little goofy. Like aww, it's cute sweet liddol baby Willow. You wanna squeeze her. You wanna protect her.

She's still got naturally chubby cheeks in newer eps but it's almost like her face is starting to physically mature, shedding a bit of baby fat. She's getting older, she's changing as a person and she doesn't WANT to be cute sweet liddol baby Willow who needs to be protected. There's still so much warmth and adorableness in her smile but it's not as silly as it used to look. It reflects her feelings of wanting to be taken seriously and her current development focusing on how badass and determined she has become.

Also the significance of her new hair is just!! Ahhh!!!

Willow was set up to be connected to Amity from her opening scene in season 1 and their complicated past friendship was a defining aspect of Willow's character and a big reason that she lacked confidence.

Amity braided and dyed Willow's hair in a sweet moment that indicated that the girls were slowly beginning to reconnect. And now Willow proudly walks around with her new hairstyle, a constant reminder that they're making progress. Willow is beginning to let Amity back into her life. She's no longer looking to the past and is instead focusing on a future in which they can be friends again.

And like okay. The face can be a little symbolic. The hair can be a little symbolic. But her new glasses?

Boy i haven't a single clue how the new gold frames could possibly be relevant or why they were changed in the first place. I guess because they're pretty?? They really ARE pretty and they suit her so well. I love Willow's completely non significant gold glasses. Go queen.

#not gonna tag this one #its just blorbo babbling for my blorbo babbling blog

[jerzwriter]

Sunday Six 3.26.2023

Haven't done one of these in a while. Below is a sneak peek of several projects I'm working on. Hope you enjoy them.

Reset | OH | Ethan Ramsey x F!OC, Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Past)

What Happened in Vegas | OH | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Crash | OH | Tobias Carrick x F!MC

What's Forever For? AU - Miranda | OH | Tobias Carrick, F!MC

A Mother's Journal: Part 4 | WTD | Eli Sipes, F!OC (Florence Sipes, Mother)

Reset | Ethan Ramsey x F!OC, Ethan Ramsey x MC (past) This scene is Tobias, Kaycee (MC)

Tobias slunk back in his chair, slowly swiveling to the side. He studied her resume with such intensity she'd never had a clue that the decision to accept her had been made long before she entered his door. But this was a golden opportunity to learn more, and Dr. Carrick never passed up an opportunity.

"I'm still not understanding this," he practically scowled, tossing the paper back onto his desk. "I'm not here to belittle my program. It's top-ranked, but... it's not Edenbrook. So why are you here?"

Kaycee did her best not to squirm, but something inside her knew the steely eyes fixed on her could see right through her, and that almost made her want to tell the truth... almost.

"I, uh, didn't seek you out. I was recruited."

He nonchalantly shrugged with an air of annoyance. "I'm recruited by places that are beneath me on a daily basis. But I know my worth enough to not give them the time of day. Now, I'm not suggesting Kenmore is beneath you. It's not. In fact, you have yet to convince me that you'd survive the program. But before I render my decision... I'm going to need some more honesty from you. Otherwise, we're both wasting our time."

What Happened in Vegas, Part 6 | Ethan Ramsey x MC

Ethan placed two cups of coffee on the desk, one for him and one for Naveen, who was uncharacteristically late. He checked anxiously checked his watch. He was almost as eager to catch his mentor and friend up on his Vegas happenings as Naveen was to hear them, but he had been away for days, and he had work to do. He pulled out his phone to text him when he heard the door open.

"It's about time. I was getting ready to inform you that I was leaving your office," Ethan chided, but his face turned ashen when he spun around and found who was standing before him.

"Casey? What are you doing here... I... I thought you were on rounds?"

"I was," she shrugged. "But I got a text from Naveen saying I needed to come to see him right away. Do you think this could be about... about us?"

"That's impossible... I mean, I think it is. How would he know?"

Crash | Tobias Carrick x F!MC

The lab had grown eerily quiet, everyone hyperfocused on their task at hand, speaking only when absolutely necessary, and the lingering silence only meant one thing. They weren't making progress.

Tobias was overheating, feeling like he would combust, but he had to play it cool... he had to do it for Casey. She couldn't die. Especially since Farrugia wouldn't even be here if not... His head jerked toward the door as Baz and June rushed inside.

"Any good news?" Sienna asked nervously.

Baz shook his head with a sigh. "No. We had to remove Raf from the room. He's failing quickly... "

"And Casey?" Tobias injected without a single thought.

June turned to him, her face a mix of emotions.

"And Casey?" He asked, louder and more directed this time.

"There's no... no change. Nothing's better, but it's not getting worse." June answered.

"That's not entirely true," Baz faltered. "Her oxygen levels are down a bit, and it Raf's turn is any indication, that means she has...."

Tobias was halfway to the door. "I'm going to see her...."

June reached for his arm. "You can't just go up there, Tobias. It's on an approved basis, and..."

"Try to stop me."

What's Forever For? AU: Miranda | Tobias Carrick, F!MC This scene is between Vivian Carrick and Dr. Miranda Covington

She knew there was no reason that she couldn't stay. She was perfectly free to be there. Nevertheless, Miranda felt it was best to let them work this out without her there. She didn't even stop for her coat before stepping out into the frigid Boston night; fortunately, Tobias's heavy sweatshirt would be enough to hold her over until her Uber arrived.

She sprung out of the front door and let out a cleansing breath. She'd have to deal with the aftermath at a later time, but for now... she was free.

"And what exactly is that sigh of relief for, my dear?"

Miranda's face fell, and she stood frozen in place as an elegantly dressed woman approached her. She had only met Vivian Carrick a few times before, in large groups, where she was one of many of Tobias's friends. She knew his mother was a formidable force and vowed to never get on her wrong side, and now, she prayed that wasn't where she had found herself.

A Mother's Journal: Part 4 | Eli Sipes, Florence Sipes, etc.

... and that's the thing about the world ending. We talked about it before it happened... 'It's not the end of the world?', we'd say. But maybe it was. Not for everyone but for the person in pain, it very well may have been. Now, we all know the day the world ended. Those of us who lived through it have it permanently etched in our minds. Those who have come since have been taught about it as lore. But they cannot be spared. Their worlds will end, too. It happens when we lose the thing most dear to us. When we lose the one thing that makes our world whole...

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @differenttyphoonwerewolf @fayeswiftie @gryffindordaughterofathena @genevievemd @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @secretaryunpaid @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #open heart choices #wake the dead choices #ethan ramsey #tobias carrick #eli sipes #open heart #wake the dead #ethan ramsey x f!oc #ethan ramsey x f!mc #tobias carrick x f!mc #tobias carrick x ? #sunday six #cfwc sunday six #angst ahead my friends

[magentagalaxies]

Writing an Essay on Brooklyn 99 So Maybe I Can Stop Thinking About It Every Day:

i can't wait for like 20 years from now when we'll be able to have thoroughly researched academic articles about what the fuck happened with brooklyn 99 and its place in the culture bc even tho i haven't cared to rewatch a single episode since it ended i still think about the show at least once a day because of how fucking surreal that situation was. and ik we already have some (very good!) video essays about the copaganda aspect of it but i feel like we're not gonna be able to understand the full scope of what this sitcom means until decades from now

like it's just so bizarre when you think about it, bc while police and the broader "justice" system have always been viewed as inherently cruel and biased to target minorities and uphold the rich white cishet status quo by many people, this view wasn't quite as mainstream when the show started. the show being set at a police department likely carried none of this baggage to the people working on it when it was first pitched. the thought process was (likely) more like well, we already have sitcoms that take place at all these generic jobs, so "cop" is a natural continuation of that list, as well as well, police dramas have been huge for the past twenty years, so having a sitcom set at a police department allows us to spoof that and get some cool action sequences, and let's be real andy samberg needs something to do after snl. like not excusing the glorification of cops by any means, but imagine if you were the creator of "the office" and then around season 6 it became impossible to ignore that paper companies were inherently racist and killing people and there was a movement to defund them??? again, it's not a perfect analogy bc there are just inherent parts of being a cop that should have tipped people off that maybe this isn't the best for a goofy comedy, but i don't think this show was made with any malicious intent, it was just very bad luck

but the "goofy sitcom about cops comes out when cops are still seen (by the mainstream) as normal guys and stays on the air long enough to have an existential crisis in 2020" thing honestly isn't the only reason this show fascinates me. i think this aspect has been covered by other people a fair amount, and honestly it's not even unique to brooklyn 99 (there are still a TON of cop shows on the air rn, even cop comedies! none of them have reached the same heights as brooklyn 99 but yeah unfortunately the "defund the police" movement did not kill cop shows). the real reason brooklyn 99 has retained such a bizarre place in sitcom history, and why it even had this identity crisis to begin with, is in its tone.

if i had to guess the three things brooklyn 99 is most remembered for are:

being a copaganda sitcom that tried not to be and imploded on itself

the cold open bits that were such widespread memes that even if you've never watched the show you can probably quote at least two

the diversity of its characters

we're going to focus on number three. brooklyn 99 was a groundbreakingly diverse show from the very beginning. the number of people of color in its cast was beyond most sitcoms at the time, and captain holt being openly gay was a plot point from the pilot episode. however, i don't think the show really embraced its status as "the woke sitcom" until around season 2 or 3 (i don't remember exactly when the shift happened and i don't want to rewatch it to find out) in the earliest episodes, the tone is more focused on typical sitcom tropes combined with parodies of police drama tropes. this is also a very egregious era for people to look back on like "hm the behavior of these cops isn't entirely ethical even tho they're the supposed good guys," but again other people have covered this topic way better than i can

however, in seasons 3-5 brooklyn 99 started to take off in liberal circles because of its "progressive" politics. the show's female characters were badass and had actual personalities! the show had characters who were people of color and acknowledged racism existed! the show even started having episodes that acknowledged these issues, and its cast pushed for advocacy as well. as someone who was deep in the "brooklyn 99 is out unproblematic fave" culture of that era, i specifically remember rosa's coming out episode as a huge moment for queer representation, and i remember how much people applauded the episode where terry is racially profiled by another officer for shedding light on the issue. the characters on brooklyn 99 weren't just seen as "the good guys," they were seen as an ideal diverse friend group. the retort whenever someone pointed out the copaganda was to point out the depiction of other cops on the show being "the bad guys," and explain "brooklyn 99 isn't saying all cops are good, it's saying that our main characters are an example of what police should be like, and we can work together to make the system better!" i'll dissect this take more later, but for not this is just a snapshot of what the culture was like.

the main thing i remember from being on tumblr during the heyday of brooklyn 99 was this phrase being repeated over. and over. and over. again:

"this is proof that you can be funny without being offensive!"

sure, brooklyn 99 wasn't the only show to be given this tag line by its fan base, but i associate this take with brooklyn 99 more than any other show that was popular during that time. especially when it comes to the cold open bits, like "now number five", or "the full bullpen!" or "hot damn!" it would also be applied to bits about queerness like "bye rosa!" or "BONE???" which is understandable, since most sitcom audiences were used to queerness constantly being the butt of the joke and it was nice to just hear bisexuality used as a non-judgmental pun for once.

this was also during an era where "offensive comedy" was very heavily taken over by the right wing, especially trump supporters. in the minds of many, "offensive comedy" just meant a conservative saying slurs and getting butthurt when people stopped laughing. the right was offensive and grotesque, so the left would take the high road and be tolerant of everything. we don't want to offend people, but we still want comedy, so brooklyn 99 is a nice way to reassure ourselves that we can still laugh while being as inoffensive as possible. the ironic thing is i'm sure someone can find a reason to find any one of these brooklyn 99 cold opens offensive. i'm not going to make a callout post for every single potentially offensive thing in these bits bc that just feels like making up a guy to get mad at, but my point is "offensiveness" is subjective and not the deadly sin we thought it was.

(to detour slightly, this idea of "proof that you can be funny without being offensive" was so internalized in me that i ended up self-censoring my own works so much. it actually wasn't until i discovered scott thompson's comedy that i realized being "offensive" in the overt queerness of your work is actually so much more powerful than trying to look unproblematic. homophobes are gonna find you disgusting no matter what you do, so don't censor yourself to seem better than them because at best they won't care and at worst they'll see you as the death of comedy)

season five was the peak of brooklyn 99 imo. the show was diverse. the fandom was everywhere. the comedy was iconic. then it was cancelled. not the social-media-version of cancelled, that will come much later. fox, the network brooklyn 99 aired on, pulled the plug on the show after season five, leading to a massive uproar on twitter in defense of the show. major celebrities were tweeting about how they watched it every week, people were petitioning other networks to pick it up, and eventually someone did!! brooklyn 99 was brought back on nbc through season 8 and we all lived happily ever after

just kidding but can you imagine?

whenever brooklyn 99 pops into my brain these days, i keep coming back to the same theory, which is that the show would be remembered much more fondly if it was just cancelled after season five. i would've been sad, sure, but think about it. it's 2018. this show is still viewed as the pinnacle of positive representation by so many people. its fan base is vast and passionate, and it even ended on the classic wedding episode for the will-they/won't-they couple. yeah it's a shame to let all that momentum go to waste and not have a proper sendoff for everyone, but we move on and fans fill in the gaps themselves through their own creativity. a few years down the line, our nation finally experiences a reckoning with police brutality and the defund the police movement gains traction. this of course taints the legacy of our beloved cop sitcom, but we didn't know back then (even though we really should've), and since the show is done we can just enjoy it as escapism while also being firm in our beliefs irl. this system isn't perfect, but the question of how do we remember brooklyn 99? is a lot easier when brooklyn 99 is not currently airing

but brooklyn 99 was airing, and seasons 6-8 were a mess. even beyond the copaganda conversation, things just felt a bit off. the shorter seasons definitely didn't help, since they took away a fan favorite aspect of the show (the halloween heist episodes, which honestly are the only things i'm ever tempted to rewatch anymore) and gave us less and less time in the world of our characters. jake and amy had a kid, because that's what sitcom couples are supposed to do. we saw rosa's girlfriend. and rosa's girlfriend. and rosa's girlfriend. the show dealt with mass shootings, the #metoo movement, and other topical issues.

then the world shut down, and middle class white people finally had to reckon with the realities of police brutality since they couldn't look away. brooklyn 99 of course was swept up in this conversation, and since they were always known as the most progressive sitcom on television, they had to do something. but it was looking more and more like despite all their efforts "progressive cop show" was an oxymoron, and all they could do was try and minimize the damage while making a swift exit.

there have already been several essays on how brooklyn 99 handled its identity as a "cop show" in its final season, and this essay is already long enough so I won't get into the weeds even more here. some aspects were a good step towards important conversations (rosa quitting, jake's realization that everyone sees themselves as one of the good ones, etc.). some were... trying their best? but also vague enough that there was no substance beyond just saying "this is a thing" (amy's arc about submitting a proposal defunding some police programs? i don't even remember if that's what it was about since it was so vague). and others were just kind of baffling??? like. the show ends with jake quitting being a cop, which is good. and his decision is framed as entirely about wanting to spend more time with his son... but also the whole reason he got to spend more time with his son was because he got suspended for intimidating a suspect and being super unethical??? and that's never brought up again or cited as a reason for jake quitting. like, they already had rosa quit because she realized being a cop was just contributing to a corrupt system, and jake has just had the dark realization that no matter how golden-retriever-husband he is, he's still a corrupt cop??? but they fully ignore that and make the finale about family??? idk it just feels like they wrote the finale before everything went down and never bothered to rewrite it.

but the important thing is that brooklyn 99 finally ended, and rather than being met with the standing ovation of its almost-finale in season five, it was met with... still a moderate amount of applause, but mostly people looking away and awkwardly asking what to do with it now. in the years since, i have barely seen anything about brooklyn 99 on the internet. idk if it's just because of who i surround myself with, but to contrast, i still see things about the office, parks and rec, community, scrubs, 30 rock, etc. years after they ended. i didn't even like the office! and these shows certainly had problematic elements as well (even my favorites on this list, community and scrubs, have some jokes that really don't hold up), but even tho i couldn't scroll past 5 posts on tumblr in 2015 without seeing a fandom redraw of "and i know that if i run at terry he will catch me" "JAKE I'M HOLDING COFFEE!", brooklyn 99 has kind of... vanished?

the only times i'm forced to think about brooklyn 99 now (outside of this essay bouncing around my brain every 24 hours) are when i see a post where it is the butt of the joke or a piece of discourse that we all know the right side of. a netflix synopsis of the show prioritizes saying it's "full of memeable moments" but never uses the word "cop." that's obviously bad, but also, that's accurate to how we thought of the show back in 2015. the cop thing was easily ignorable by its fans. or, more potently, on a post about how cops shouldn't be allowed at pride, some clueless steven universe blog pipes up "what about captain holt?" and is treated to a barrage of "HE'S A FICTIONAL CHARACTER STOP BEING A BOOTLICKER." and maybe that's evidence of the more damning legacy of brooklyn 99, that for all its progressive storytelling, it's still a cop show. and even if you're a fan who knows most cops aren't like our main characters and they're just an example of how the system should be, that still makes you idolize the idea that there could be people like these characters who made you feel seen, and that they're working in the police force. that if you say "ACAB" you could make captain holt sad, because even though the show and fandom tried so hard to make the police identity secondary to their mission of diversity, the police identity has to come first in order for any real change to be made.

that's all i have for now. i'm sure i didn't explain things entirely perfectly and that there's major aspects to this conversation that i missed, but that's why i'm excited to read someone else's analysis in 20 years. i'm very curious to see what brooklyn 99's legacy will be like then.

#time for a jessay #this one is unrebloggable bc i don't want discourse since it touches on sensitive topics and i'm not confident i explained everything right #but i just needed to get this brooklyn 99 infodump out of my head bc i seriously cannot stop thinking about how it's aged #that 2015-2018 era where brooklyn 99 was the pinnacle of progressive inoffensive comedy was so vivid #and then it managed to escape death but that just allowed it to overstay its welcome #and now like. those memes have vanished??? and it's not just bc it's off the air bc so many other sitcoms are still memed all the time #it's obviously bc of the cop aspect and how the audience is forced to reckon with that

[cough-droplet]

So for a while now, just to keep track of how much Doctor Who I have left, I've been keeping this little progress bar I made (watched episodes in blue, obviously)

And anyway, at some point in this past month a realization dawned on me about how many episodes I've actually watched, so just to visualize it I rearranged the segments and

Yeah I'm officially past the point where there are more Doctor Who episodes I have watched than there are ones I haven't. That feels kind of insane to me, I never would've thought I'd get here.

So meanwhile, right now I'm on break from watching any more until Christmas (because my sister got me the season 8 blu-ray set as a Christmas present and I want to hold out on starting the season until she gives it to me officially); And I remembered that I was also watching quite a bit of Doctor Who during my family's holiday celebrations last year (I had just taken a particularly long break). So I thought, "why not check how many episodes I've watched in the past year, from Christmas to Christmas" and uhh

It turns out the answer is 222. I went from watching barely 50-something episodes throughout most of 2022 to watching two hundred and twenty-two this past year.

I guess it's been a whole year so that isn't all that crazy, it was just shocking to see lmao. I took some really lengthy breaks throughout the year, though, but whenever I had a burst of wanting to watch the show I would go absolutely psychotic. Counting the 3 anniversary specials, I've watched 65 episodes this past month alone, and like 40 of those were in a single week-and-a-half period where I went freak mode.

Anyway there was no real point to this I was just like "woah".

#doctor who liveblogs #dw liveblog season 7

[vizthedatum]

Life is just a little bit more colorful and clearer today - this phenomena has gone up and down over the past year.

This usually happens when I'm feeling at peace with my body and my life. I am very earnestly trying to be more at peace with it all, but I always realize that I can't force peace... if I feel like I'm forcing it, then I'm already out of alignment, and I'm not focusing on the right things.

Last year, I really wanted to be at peace. I fought hard for every single day. I got dressed up more. I did things that I enjoyed. I spent time with loved ones. I had so much fucking sex. I dated probably more than six people - many times, all at the same time. I made it to the majority of my healthcare appointments. I traveled more than I had in the past several years combined. I didn't catch covid again, not even once haha. I read so much more. I pushed myself to keep trying to play games (haven't made that much progress, but today, I did ONE slay the spire run - and I felt great about it) more. I pushed myself to enjoy television and movies again (and I do - I enjoy them quite a bit again!).

But I wasn't at peace. I just really wanted to be.

I had crippling executive dysfunction sometimes, and it was so embarrassing. So many meltdowns. My last move... was not fun for me, even though I love my new apartment. I felt so attacked by the whole fucking world, even though I had so much privilege - I had friends who helped me, I had enough funds/credit to hire a moving service, I found a nice place with all my requirements, etc.

I really wanted to be heard still.

I was so self-critical.

I cut off so many friends - many of whom were really bad for my mental health.

I was a jerk to some people, and I didn't mean to be.

I was rightfully a jerk to some people, and I did mean to be.

--

Life is settling down again, even though I can feel like change is always around the corner. What I mean is... my nervous system feels so much better, but I am still healing.

Last year, I think I wished I could be where I am today.

I was so self-conscious because I could see and hear how people looked and talked about me. I wanted love/care/compassion/understanding, but I didn't want fucking pity or for people to act differently.

I didn't want to be invalidated or infantilized either - what I was going through was immensely hard.

I decided to do everything all at once last year: the unmasking of my neurodivergence, the confrontation with my family (multiple times), the leaving of my very short marriage, other breakups that tore me apart, constantly trying to stand up for myself even though I wanted to jump out of my own skin, FINDING A FUCKING JOB, working side gigs, trying to get divorced as quickly as possible while my ex was just out there being a massive asshole, working on actually feeling and expressing my emotions, trying to be healthier, finding joy in my hobbies...

finding joy and peace again

#reflection #trauma #ptsd #healing #neurodivergence #self love #prose #heartbreak #healing journey #gratitude #self reflection #self awareness #letting go #i still have more to do

[harrowharkwife]

thinking thoughts. in a lot of ways, s6 seems like it's shaping up to be a revisiting of issues the characters faced in s1.

only this time they're older, and maybe somewhat wiser, and they have a stronger support system, so hopefully they can make a little more progress this time.

key words: a little more progress.

one of most special, precious, rare, and at times frustrating as hell things about this show is that it neatly sidesteps the traditional TV show convention of characters ~fully getting over~ trauma in a single 45 minute episode.

we are so thoroughly conditioned to expect this narrative from television, that it can feel jarring, or repetitive, or yes, even like bad writing, to witness such a staggering and total rejection/refutation/reimagining of that storytelling convention. to instead watch a set of characters cyclically regress, take one step forward and two steps back, keep stumbling up against the exact same internal conflicts, just from different angles, keep learning the same god damn lesson over and over again, but only in pieces, never all at once, keep coming face to face with the same base character flaws, always finding new facets of them, new situations where they rear their ugly heads.

we're six seasons in, now. i feel like that's a large enough sample size, a big enough body of evidence, to support me when i say this: yes, it's frustrating as hell.

but i think that's the point.

911 is arguing, and has been for years now, that trauma isn't something you can EVER completely "get over," period. rather, it's something you have to make peace with and learn to live alongside, in fits and starts, throughout the course of your life. you can process it and put it behind you and move forward with your life, but unless you have a time machine, you lived through it, and there's no undoing that. it's a part of your story, as much as that sucks, and trying to divorce it entirely from your lived experience and your worldview - trying to pretend that it doesn't affect your inner landscape, the choices you make, the ways in which you interact with others, sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly, but always consistently, and on a base level, and in perpetuity - is at best an unconscious well-intentioned fool's errand and at worst, a subconscious but intentional way to punish yourself even more- donning horse blinders with the goal of denying yourself healing, because it's too scary, or because you're just not ready yet, or because on some level you don't think you deserve it. (looking at you, buck.)

show me an adult human being who has experienced trauma that can truly, genuinely, wholeheartedly, without lying to themselves even a little bit, say they're "over it," that it's not still a traumatizing, that it doesn't sneak up on them from time to time, and be right about that. hold a mirror up to yourself and tell me, with a straight face, that you won't be grappling with, negotiating with, making peace with, coming to terms with, the same handful of abandonment issues, or character flaws, or negative personality traits, for the rest of your life. that going to therapy for a little while completely fixed everything wrong with your life on the first try. that you don't keep stumbling into the same old arguments and miscommunications and frustration points and failures-to-see-eye-to-eye with your loved ones. that you've ever fully learned a life lesson, every aspect of it, all in one go, all at once, with perfect clarity, and then applied that life lesson consistently and correctly to every choice you've made from then to now, without fail. that you haven't thought god, i really thought i was past that by now on multiple occasions, and meant it every time, yet still gone on to think you know what? i really am past it now! again, only to be proven wrong, again. that you've always talked about the thing weighing heavily on your mind, that you've never repressed an emotion or avoided a conversation for way longer than was healthy because talking about it would make it feel too real. that you've never encountered a situation where you made a mistake, or a bad decision, or the wrong choice, that was glaringly, embarrassingly obvious in hindsight but felt, in the moment, with the best of intentions and the information you had at the time, like the healthiest, safest, wisest option, the clear right choice, the best path forward.

you can't.

because when you're in the thick of it, when you're a human being living your own life from your own perspective, you miss the forest for the trees.

as an audience, especially those of us who grew up in online fan circles, we have been begging for complex, nuanced, diverse, realistic, empathetic, considerate, patient, lifelike, thoughtful, and trauma-informed storytelling for years now.

911 is finally delivering it.

and maybe this is why stories are traditionally written like stories, not like real life. maybe carla was right about the fantasy sometimes being better than the reality, because now that it's here, we don't know what to do with it, myself included.

it's frustrating to watch! when you're on the outside looking in, an audience member consuming a story from third person perspective with all the omniscience given to you by the narrative, watching stories play out this slowly and subtly and circularly can feel confusing- don't the writers remember that that character supposedly already learned that lesson? it can feel stupid- this character keeps making the same mistakes! are they just stupid? when will they learn?! it can even feel lazy- they're just repeating the same plots over and over again!

if it's done right, though, it's not careless, or stupid, or lazy. it's fucking hard, actually, to keep finding new lenses to look at the same core concept through. it's much easier to tell a simple story, is the thing. to write a character who learns a lesson the first time and moves on, a character who survives a trauma in one chapter and heals from it in the next, neatly delineating their life into an efficiently juxtaposed Before and After. easier to write, and easier to watch, or read, or consume. abstract art and photorealism are both art, and they're both valuable, and they're both equally compelling, but the latter often takes a hell of a lot more time and patience and attention to detail. that doesn't make it more valid, or better, or more important- it's simply a fact of the chosen medium.

a story as complex as this one, told like this, and done right (fingers crossed, but only time will tell) results in writing that is deeply true to life, realistic, and human. and isn't that what we've all been asking for? writing that's intentional enough, and patient enough, and multifaceted enough to make the characters feel less like constellations of plot points and tropes, and almost akin to authentic people in their own right, living out stories that are rich and dynamic and messy and yes, at times rather boring, stories that feel almost more like biographies than fiction? miniature lives of their own.

i'd argue that 911 is doing it right- as tricky as it is to judge a technique that's arguably somewhat new/innovative/transformative/fresh/inventive as "right" or "wrong," when a) the story is still in the process of being told, we're still in the thick of it, and b) there's really no other long form primetime tv show i can think of that's being written quite like this- it's hard to judge anything in the absence of a peer for comparison.

but i'd argue they're doing it right, if we take "doing it right" to mean fully embracing and committing to and staying truthful to this narrative device that they've chosen to use to tell their story, and then telling that story with deliberate, painstaking, intentional care, come hell or high water.

so yes, i am expecting this set of characters to keep making this same set of mistakes, facing this same set of demons, and learning this same set of lessons over and over again, in different facets and lights and angles and fonts and degrees and scenarios, for however long this show runs its course. i think it's pretty evident by now that that's the medium the writers have decided to use, the kind of story they've decided to tell. a handful of people spending their whole lives learning how to be people.

and yes, that's sometimes immensely frustrating to watch. yes, i often wish i could skip ahead. yes, i often have criticisms, especially when it comes to pacing. yes, i often get anxious and frustrated wondering where this story might be headed. no, it's not perfect.

but you know what it is?

it's a story that i - as a person who has spent her whole life up to this point learning how to be a person, who will probably continue to spend the rest of her life beyond this point learning how to be a person, trying and trying and still never quite getting it right - am deeply, deeply invested in following through to the end.

#been having some thoughts lately so here they are #911 #911 spec #911 meta #this is not meant to invalidate anyone's thoughts or feelings on the show it's just how I'm feeling! #long post #'boring grown up TV for boring grown ups' shouldn't be like. a radical concept? but somehow it is and i LOVE it

[saintsenara]

just read the entirety of one year in every ten in a single setting - amazing stuff! all of these wip's sound fantastic!

for the ask game, your choice - which ones are you most excited by that haven't already been answered? 😊

thank you so much, anon! what better motivation is there to finish editing the next chapter of one year in every ten?

[work-in-progress game here]

i've picked four from the list:

the war of the roses

is the classic sirius black/severus snape bonanza:

sirius actually listens to snape and doesn't go to the department of mysteries; is then intrigued; shouts at snape until the shouting turns into kissing; and realises, by the time his old enemy is crying on the floor having killed dumbledore, that he might be a little bit in love.

the battle currently waging within me is whether to give it a happy ending [profoundly unrealistic, given these two] or for it to all end in tragedy.

but i think i'd quite like them to live happily-ish ever after.

fortune favours the bold

james potter dies. when he wakes up he's eleven again.

i capture the castle

is giving me grief.

my intention is for it to be sixth year from hermione's perspective, but i can't quite get the voice right. i'll be honest that i don't love hermione as a character in the books - although at least she's interesting; airbrushed, unnuanced fanon!hermione brings me out in hives - so finding an interpretation that feels true is proving a bit of a challenge...

mightier than any wizard living

an ask from @broomsticks here has got me thinking about my canon-compliant-except-for-the-binary-gender-swap rise-of-voldemort fic again, and i've done some work on it over the past week.

structurally, we're in our louis de bernières era, with the chapters presenting various characters' first-person perspectives, interspersed with documents, historical context etc. at the moment, it is my intention to never have voldemort's first-person pov - only omniscient third-person narration. she's a mystery, her life pieced together by everyone else.

have an excerpt, from the testimony of one philomena cole:

Mrs Dolan had me cleaning past eight that evening, with just a bit of bread and dripping for tea. Then she made me sit with her in the parlour, crocheting and listening to her whine on like a motor about the ‘state of this country’ and the ‘sort of tarts who get themselves knocked up and keep this orphanage full’. She reckoned that was a treat for me, you know. I suppose it was, in the same way that dying instantly from being hit by a bus is a treat compared to dying slowly in agony. 

The knock came at quarter to ten. I hoped it was just carol singers or charity collectors. Mrs Dolan would tell them to sling their hooks and that would be that. But I knew it wasn’t. You always knew, at Wool’s, when you heard a knock like that. There were a thousand words in that knock. It was the way desperate girls knocked when they were about to have a baby.  

‘Here we go, then,’ Mrs Dolan said, hauling herself up from her armchair, ‘no rest for the wicked.’

I heard her trudging down the stairs, and then she bellowed from the hall. ‘Philomena, come here now!’

So I was down in a flash, the orphans watching me from their doorways as I went. 

This girl, no older than twenty, was staggering along the hallway, with Mrs Dolan’s arm around her waist. I know this isn’t very charitable of me, but she was the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. She had this dull, colourless hair, which was plastered to her face with sleet and sweat, a pale, heavy face, and a harelip. She was thin as a rail, apart from the bump, and wrapped in rags.

I remember thinking later that she must have known she was dying, and she’d come to us wrapped in her own shroud. 

She didn’t make a sound for the whole labour. That was something I never saw before. She just lay there, in her own blood, on the table in the infirmary where we brought all the desperate girls.

She wasn’t even in labour for an hour before the baby appeared. Even with everything that happened later, I’ll never forget how relieved I was when she screamed, and she was strong and healthy and pink. I thought she’d die. That’s how it usually went when the mothers were skin-and-bone and barely out of childhood and there was no father to be seen anywhere. But this baby wanted to live, which was good - you needed a will to live in a place like Wool’s. 

‘He’s a fighter,’ I remember the girl said. She had a very funny accent. Sort of hissy. ‘I knew he would be. His papa fought me until the end.’

‘Yes, a fighter,’ I said, trying to staunch her bleeding, while Mrs Dolan wrapped the baby in a blanket.

‘I hope he looks like his papa.’

She was right to hope it.

‘He won’t look like anything,’ said Mrs Dolan, placing the baby on her chest. ‘This is your daughter.’

The girl didn’t seem to understand. She just lay there, not even reaching out for the baby. That was odd too, normally even the girls who were dying tried to hold their babies.  

‘I want… name him… Marvolo… after my… dad…’ she said, ‘his father…surname…Riddle…’

‘We can’t very well call a baby girl Marvolo,’ said Mrs Dolan. ‘What sort of a name is that?’

But the girl said nothing. She didn’t have enough blood left in her.

The clock struck midnight and it was 1927, and I was holding the baby. She was silent, staring at the corpse of her mother. God, just thinking about that gives me the shivers. She looked so alert, so shrewd. Newborns don’t usually, you know.

‘Well, here you are then,’ I said to her eventually, ‘this is where you’ll be growing up.’

‘We can’t call her Marvolo,’ said Mrs Dolan

‘But it seemed so important to the poor thing,’ I said. I was always soft like that. If any girls came in and wanted their baby given a doll they’d bought when they thought they were going to live and raise the kid with its dad, all happy families, I used to do it, and I’d cry when I tucked it into the cot.  

‘That’s beside the point,’ said Mrs Dolan. ‘Who’s going to take on a secretary called Marvolo? Who’s going to marry a girl named Marvolo?’

‘She said it was her dad’s name.’

‘He was probably a gypsy. It sounds like a gypsy name.’

‘We could use it as a middle name. Something Marvolo Riddle. That just sounds a bit foreign. Italian, you know?’

‘If you insist.’

‘It just seemed so important to her.’

‘Maybe this Riddle will come looking for the baby. She did seem very insistent on the surname.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Very well,’ said Mrs Dolan. ‘Call her Something Marvolo Riddle. Just make sure the "something" is a nice, respectable name. The sort of thing a decent girl would have.’

#asks answered #work in progress ask game #mightier than any wizard living

[maki-makis]

I haven't seen many comments on Due Vite (Italy) and it's in my top 3 this year (yes, I am that person who falls for typical sanremo ballad™️ every year, sue me), so, here it goes:

I've really wanted to hear this song because it was overhyped and practically pronounced winner of Sanremo before it even started and then I did and thought - that's it? that's what the hype was about?

Heard it 5 times during the festival and didn't like it one single time, said to myself: oh well, I guess it was about time for me to dislike the winning song of Sanremo.

The next day, having already assembled my Sanremo playlist, I've excluded Due Vite. It was eating me inside though, so I've finally caved in and gave it another listen...and another...and then one more. Essentially, at that point, I feel like I've listened to it like 15 times and it still hasn't clicked for me.

Then, the following day, I have no idea what happened, but it just kinda became my favorite song overnight? Maybe it was the Stockholm Syndrome because I did imprison my ears with that song the entire previous day, but, I think I've just stupidly resisted this song because it was really hyped and I didn't feel the hype when I first heard it so I've scratched it off altogether. When Sanremo ended and it all settled down a bit, I was able to actually enjoy the song for what it is.

And it's one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. What's even more beautiful is how you can feel him living through every single note. I assume this song means a lot to him, you can tell from the lyrics that it's very personal, but especially from his live performance, where I feel he left his soul on that stage.

I still don't know what the song is exactly about, because, like I said, lyrics is very vague and feels too personal for anyone but Marco to know what it's really about, but, he did say this: "Due Vite is my neverending story. It's a journey from a phenomenal to a subconscious world. There is a dreamlike imagery, of course, and somewhat fantastic. There are also moments and pictures of my real life."

The way I interpret this song is that it speaks about the constant fight with oneself. "Due Vite", two lives, one that you live, one that you feel and the battle between the two. The way he sings it is sad, but at the same time angry and desparate, at moments bittersweet; you believe him that he's fighting with himself.

There's quite a bit of lyrics dedicated to not being able to sleep, or simply not sleeping ("and you don't sleep/and where will you be?/where are you going?/when life goes too far/all the running, the fighting, the mistakes you make/when something upsets you") and it truly encapsulates that feeling of tossing around in your bed at 3am, not being able to sleep and thinking about every single mistake you've ever made, every single mistake you're going to make and not knowing where to go or what to do.

Whenever I listen to this song (and that's literally every day), I get the feeling that he's struggling through the entirety of it. Not sure how else to explain it, but I feel as if I'm listening to someone living through a panic attack alone in the middle of the night while trying to calm himself down, yet it's getting progressively worse anyway.

To summarize this insanity: Due Vite sounds like an inner monologue of a person in pain. And whenever I'm listening to it while sad/anxious, it sounds like my inner monologue.

So, yes, this song has been quite a journey for me; it went from: "my least favorite Italian entry of the past decade" to one of my favorite songs of this year's Eurovision, if not my favorite.

#eurovision #esc 2023 #eurovision song contest #eurovision 2023 #esc #italy 2023 #due vite #marco mengoni

[leirsulien-archive]

for my baby alexis: 6, 8, 25, 35, 38, 45, and 47

thank you <3 <3

6. how have they changed in the last year? how about the last five years?

last five years: the last 5 years have definitely been the hardest of her life. at the start of them she had been the happiest she's ever been and thought things were finally starting to look up :) she was in a very happy relationship and had actually started going to therapy (after a lot of encouragement from her fiancee) to work on her ~issues~/herself. but ofc that bliss couldn't last bc she's my poorest littlest wettest meow meow and i don't allow her to be happy for more than 5 minutes at a time <3 .....her fiancee died and completely grief striken alexis hit rock bottom with her self destructive behavior at it's peak which amplified all her previous issues. since then she has actually made a lot of progress (though someone meeting her now for the first time would probably find that hard to believe) she's still incredibly closed off and struggles on a daily basis but she is trying her hardest to continue to crawl out of the pit she had fallen into and to not fall back down again

last year (going back from start of b3): meeting unit bravo and finding out about the supernatural has also changed her quite a bit, in some parts for the better...in others very much not. on the one hand there's the murphy trauma and having her entire world turned upside down which definitely led to a whole new set of issues. but on the other hand unit bravo has her slowly opening up again + seemingly overcoming her commitment issues with nate (though not really....)

8. what songs remind you of them? if there are specific lyrics or movements, list ‘em!

self sabotage by ruelle

if it feels too good to be true / than it probably is // I built these walls so tall pretending I am strong / but really I'm just fragile / I wanna keep you close enough / but far enough away for me to handle / just when I think that the monster is tamed / I hear it whisper "you haven't changed" / at the end of the day, there is no one to blame but me // I wanna change, believe me / the deeper we go, the farther I run / don't wanna be who I've become

control by zoe wees

even when I know it's been forever I can still feel the spin / hurts when I remember and I never wanna feel it again // I don't wanna lose control / nothing I can do anymore / tryin' every day when I hold my breath / spinnin' out in space pressing on my chest // sometimes I still think it's coming but I know it's not / tryin' to breathe in and then out but the air gets caught / 'cause even though I'm older now and I know how to shake off the past

shallow by carys selvey

I walk around everyday / with my head above the darkness / the storm below / I just can't face it // you say I don't care at all / but if you only knew / at night all the sleep I lose / over what I can't change // I need to think shallow thoughts / so that I don't fall too deep / in water I can't tame / 'cos that's the only way I know / how to stay breathing / and keep myself from feeling / every single blow that comes my way

giver by k.flay

I fell in love and then fell out / and I don't know if I can take the hit / I let a stranger in my bed / I pretended you were him / 'cause I needed to feel wanted / I gotta / oh, I gotta find another way // I'm learning to live / I'm trying to be better / I'm learning to give / but I don't know if I'm a giver // every day's another shot / but all I do is fuck it up // I got so much soul in my body / but no one keeping me honest / and whole days turn into holes in my mind

25. who is their best friend?

tina! they're childhood best friends who have spend most of their lives at eachothers sides. tina is the person who knows her best and really the only one who had been there for her the entire time. she has helped her through a lot of things like what's mentioned in 6.

35. when did they feel loneliest?

right after her fiancee had died. she had actually been so desperate that she called rebecca (their relationship had already been pretty bad at that time) who didn't answer, probably bc of work :)

38. do they see themselves as an important part of their party?

not really. she's very much a lone wolf, though she actually does enjoy working in a team with unit bravo a lot, but it definitely takes some getting used to. in the past she has always tried to emotionally distance herself from the people around her as much as possible and sees herself more as a liability for the people close to her. when it comes to the professional aspects she believes she works best on her own and hence thinks that she does not really contribute a lot to the team

45. what lies do they tell themselves?

asjdjfjjf plenty, way too many to list here, the better question would be about what she's honest to herself...

the lies she most frequently tells herself lately are about how she's doing (she's doing fine), her feelings for adam (what feelings) and her relationship with rebecca (she's totally indifferent to her :))

47. what could they talk about for hours on end?

hmm I'm not sure she'd talk to anyone long enough for that lol but she could definitely complain about adam for a good amount of time

[ASK GAME]

#well this was painful :) #you really picked some of the angiest questions for her and you knew exactly what you were doing ajsjjd #pearl answers #grapecaseschoices #misc: ask game #oc: alexis kingston

[jeongjaebae]

fic summary 2k22

ayeee so it's that time of year again!! i know i haven't posted much in 2022 (like... just a handful of fics oops) but i still hit a decent word count and made significant progress on long fic wips!

so yeahhh here's my 2022 fic summary which is... basically a chance to introduce my wips LOL

Total word count written: 89,033

Total word count published: 33,243

Fandoms written: tbz and svt

1. Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or what you predicted?

a bit less!! it's about half as much as i wrote last year (which was a whooping 150k word count LMAO), but this range is already more than the average for me in any given year so it's not too bad. in terms of what i POSTED though... i have no excuse for that 😅 most of my word count is from wips/ideas so i didn't have any finished content to post

2. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?

last january i definitely didn't know i would write for svt!! i kind of had a feeling that deobiblr was already dying at the time, and that's around when i started watching going seventeen to get into them... but yeah didn't know i'd slip so deep into the carat life (blaming you, kim mingyu 😒)

3. What’s your own favourite story of the year?

it's a time loop au wip that i've written about 19k so far!! where our mc is stuck in a loop trying to change their fate of unrequited love by meeting [boy group member] first before his current gf does. so mc tries to alter events and change the course of fate all while trying to figure out a way to leave the loop

4. Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

uhHHhhH the time loop au i suppose is a risk in itself... bc like... plotting it has been a complete pain when you're trying to consider multiple reruns of the same timeline. every detail has to be in the right place so that when the mc's actions change, we can directly see how that affects the events in the timeline

also writing domestic fluff like i did in best boy... can't say i enjoyed it but it was a good challenge!!

5. Do you have any fanfic goals for the new year?

post the damn hyunjae e2l already 💀 (takes one to know one)

From my past year of writing, what was…

My best story of this year:

the time loop au ahahaha but if we're talking posted fic then the whole truth!! it has a bit of everything: decent flow and sentence structures, some important themes, tiny bit of humour, and gotta love f2l ju

My most popular story of this year:

the whole truth!! i reread this kind of recently and think it really is my best in terms of flow and sentence structure. also i really haven't posted anything else so.... yeah 😶

Most fun story to write:

hmm besides my two biggest wips i'd say it's this jogging au i wrote back in april!! where mc gets roped into a jogging date with [cute dating app boy] despite hating all kinds of exercise. it's definitely the typical jeongjaebae style of humour, secondhand embarrassment, and fluff. very fun to write and has me laughing every time i reread it LMAO

Story with the single sexiest moment:

probably the whole truth, the scene where they're making out in juyeon's room LMAO. srry i have no other contributions this year. BUT!!! my e2l wip has the full and extended scene from want so that's something to look forward to 👀

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:

best boy. maybe it's not terrible but idk i haven't touched it since writing it bc i hate it 🤡 domestic fluff is... not my cup of tea. i suppose it was a good writing challenge tho. maaaaybe i'll write it one day but... needs a bit more practice

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

hmm maybe 1 plus 1? writing it made me obsessed with the (og) guy in it and he shot way up my bias list. and like. i'm still in that phase rn LOL

Hardest story to write:

oh boy it's deffs the time loop au. still stuck on the plot tbh? there's just so much planning and then... the thought of it reaching 50k or something... makes me tired OTL. it's exciting to think about but at the same time, there are way too many details i still have to write. it's a bit of a struggle

Biggest surprise:

surprise surprise who knew i would be writing for svt?!? and the one piece of angst that i wrote: all that we are

Most unintentionally telling story:

let's go with the whole truth. i loved some of the concepts and moral lessons in there, like how we're not made to be someone else's object of desire. why should we exist to be beautiful to others? and the other part about how love is deeper than what an app can tell us.

Favourite opening lines:

ehh nothing i particularly like but here we go

[better than the movies]

the most relatable sentence

If your life was a movie, at this moment, you’d be that introvert at a party.

[jogging date wip]

ahh.... relatable once again. the opening here sets the tone perfectly

"Yeah, of course. A jogging date sounds perfect." That was the moment you knew you fucked up.

Favourite closing lines:

nothing will beat this is how we fall but here are some that i like

[takes one to know one]

this actually isn't at the veryyy end of my wip rn but will probably change it and make it the actual ending later bc it's so fitting!! potential spoiler i guess but not really bc we all knew what was coming right?

When he pulls back and you see the fondness in his eyes, you realize that maybe the two of you aren't so different. He may have been an asshole, but you'd pretty much been one too. You were insanely competitive but only so that you could match up to his level. And even though it took a while for you to understand your feelings for him, now you know that he's felt the same way all along. Indeed, the two of you are more similar than you think. But then again, it takes one to know one.

[the whole truth]

they went through so much and this wrapped it up nicely. the silence especially is a powerful symbol here

When Juyeon takes the final step and crosses into your range this time, the silence is something you’ve never been happier to hear.

Favourite lines from anywhere:

[the whole truth]

important life lessons 101. if someone doesn't like you that's their problem not yours LOL. why should it be your job to be likeable?

"It’s not embarrassing to not be loved back. Painful, yes, but not something to be ashamed of. You weren’t put on this world just to become someone else’s object of desire, okay?"

[time loop au wip]

not quite closing lines but could kind of be similar to that

The two of you don't talk about, but it's all too evident anyway. It's evident when you lean into him as the night gets colder, head against the crook of his shoulder, and then in the way he shifts so that his lips meet yours. It's evident in the way he kisses you, with the sweetest of a first kiss, the bitterness of a last kiss, and the constancy of making the same choice in every loop, every timeline, every lifetime.

Scenes from anywhere you would have choose to have illustrated:

for the sake of referencing posted fics, i would say the ending of redo where they're on the bench under the mistletoe!

(in terms of wips: time loop au where y/n and [redacted] are watching fireworks from homecoming week!!)

New year’s resolutions:

finish and post that damn hyunjae e2l already OTL. and like... probably finish the time loop au if possible

Word Count Totals

Total finished, posted fic: 33,243

Longest posted fic:  the whole truth ~14.2k

Longest wip: hyunjae e2l is sitting at 25k still... and time loop au at 19k... 🥲

Total number of words written: 89,033

#personal #sherri.txt #fic summary 2022