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#stupid sad baby
bratbambii · 1 year
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I don’t think anybody really knows me anymore… nobody knows how to care for me, how to nurture me in the ways that I need. And I’ve never really been a good teacher…
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
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Adopt a Jock Part 1 
Part 2 
Part 4
Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3 
There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating. 
In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him. 
“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?” 
As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on. 
You know, for fun.
With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?” 
Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade. 
Not of his own free will, anyway. 
“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later. 
“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.
A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once. 
“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!” 
He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”  
“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”
“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. 
This was a regular battle between him and the kids who haunted the arcade.
(One had overheard Grant call him Gary the last time he was in, and ever since, every single child that graced this fine establishment with Cheeto-dusted fingers and candy-induced sugar rushes had decided to replace his actual name with his nickname.
The fact it clearly frustrated him only egged them on. )
“We go to school together Dustin,” Steve said, as if he were talking to someone particularly dense. 
“Yeah? You go to school with lots of people. You bitch about most of them.” Dustin fired back.”Plus Gary’s a total nerd. I bet you call him names.” 
"Hey, language!" 
Gareth’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the little fucker. He was definitely going to remember Dustin (and equally going to watch and see what arcade games the younger teen played-- and top the score chart of every single fucking one.
He might be a nerd but he wasn’t gonna take that shit from a middle schooler.) 
“Hate to break it to you brats, but your babysitter here just joined our D&D club.” Gareth replied, if only to finally one-up the little bastards. “Our DM is building him a character as we speak.” 
(Which wasn't even a lie. Eddie was building a character for Steve. The guy just refused to give any input on grounds that he "wasn't going to play anyways." )
Abrupt and sudden silence, as several stunned faces stared at him. 
“Oh goddammit.” Harrington cursed, as the entire herd of children turned on him in unison like some kind of hivemind horror monster. 
“You joined the D&D club,” Dustin said slowly, outraged. “And you let them make you a character sheet, but you won’t play with us!?” 
“What the hell Steve!” The sporty-looking one whined, clearly hurt. “You won’t sit in on our games! You said they were lame!” 
“They are lame.” Steve defended immediately, pushing at sporty-kids head. It was fond though, the kind of gentle shove an elder brother gave to a younger one. It caused the kid's camo banana to fall into his eyes, which he adjusted quickly with a grumble. “Turns out the high school version’s cooler.” 
“He’s lying.” That from the bitchy one, whose arms were crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. “Steve probably paid Gary to say that” 
Gareth had seen that exact same stance on Steve at lunch that day, and wondered if the little asshole knew who he was copying when he did it. 
“Who cares about D&D?” This from the redhead, standing with another girl giggling in her ear. “I’m just amazed Steve has friends.” 
“Really Mayfield?” Steve said, looking almost betrayed. As if he thought she was going to be the one to defend him in this weird little showdown.
The girl leaning on her giggled harder, making Mayfield grin (even if she tried to hide it.)  She whispered something, which the redhead outright laughed at before repeating; “Adult friends even!” 
“Okay.” Steve said, clearly cutting the kids off before they could embarrass him further. “Thank you, unwanted peanut gallery, for all of that lovely commentary. Now go back to playing the games you little shits robbed me of all my quarters for, or we’re leaving.” 
Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to pick us up?” 
“Oh I’m sorry, did Jonathan magically appear behind me in the last five seconds?” Steve turned around pretending to search the parking lot through the windows. “No? Then I guess we’re still waiting. Unless you, Lucas and Max want to leave first.” 
“You’re such an ass.” Dustin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you waiting in the car anyway?” 
“It’s raining, it’s cold, and I thought I’d come in to say hi to my friend.” Steve replied, so quickly it took Gareth a moment to realize what Steve referred to him as. 
He'd gotten the friend title before Eddie. 
His best friend was going to fucking freak. 
“Are you done drilling me or are you going to let Max kick your ass at DigDug again?” 
“Shit!” Henderson cursed, spinning to intercept the redhead as she bent to put a coin in said arcade machine. “Max, you said you’d let me keep my leaderboard score today! Max!” 
“I know you said you watched kids, but this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.” Gareth said, slumping against the counter.  
(He'd been thinking of Steve watching much younger kids for one, and two, he was starting to get the idea the babysitter thing was used as an insult. 
Gareth knew a big brother vibe when he saw it.) 
Steve gave him a tired look. “Me neither man. Me neither.”
 Then; “You fucking owe me for that D&D comment, they’re never going to shut up about it now.”
Gareth winced. “Sorry. I was trying to help.” 
Steve blew out a breath. “I know. I appreciate the attempt.” 
Which was better than Steve bitching at him for it, not that he’d really ever done that to Gareth. 
The two of them hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to be playful like that with each other, though they had occasionally jumped in on opposing sides to arguments Eddie caused. Gareth figured they’d get there in time, but even with all the progress Steve made, he still had more off days than on. 
It was a fragile line to walk with him. Especially when there wasn’t a single member of Hellfire who wanted to ruin the progress they made. 
(Even if half of them would never admit to it.) 
“Steve?” A voice interrupted, quiet in a way that contrasted directly with how loud the rest of the brat pack was. 
Steve closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if to starve off a headache. 
“Yes, Baby Byers?” He asked after a long, painful pause, turning to look at the saddest looking kid in the bunch. 
“Is there actually a D&D club at the high school?” 
The kid looked at Steve like he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, but was hopeful for the outcome he wanted anyway. 
It was the kind of thing that pulled even on Gareth’s heartstrings, and he was almost immune to anything involving giant, sad eyes after a solid year of working at the arcade. 
(Never mind Eddie’s own puppy dog looks.)
Steve’s voice gentled, in a way Gareth had never quite heard him use before. “There is. You’d love it, it’s called Hellfire. I’m sure it’ll still be there next year when you come in as a freshman.” 
He nudged him with his shoulder playfully, smiling when the younger boy perked up. “If you’re nice, Garebear here might even put in a good word for you.” 
“Garebear?” Max repeated with a burst of laughter, appearing behind Steve like a fucking ghost. “Oh my god.” 
“No.” Gareth said, bolting upright from his slouch as he stared at her in horror. “Do not call me that.” 
“Sure thing, Garebear.” She outright cackled, as Steve sent him a wide-eyed, apologetic face. 
“What did you just call Gary?” The sporty one--Lucas, asked, a wide grin overtaking his face. 
“I swear to God.” Gareth threatened, as Steve took another dramatic look over his shoulder. 
“Hey look Jonathan’s here!” He yelled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he started quickly walking backwards. “Come on, dipshits, we're leaving!” 
“Bye Garebear!” Lucas and Max sang together, following after him. 
“Harrington!” Gareth howled, as Steve mouthed ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder, all but bolting out the door. 
“I like Garebear a lot better than Gary.” Another, random child informed him with a grin as he sauntered past, arcade tickets in hand. 
Steve Harrington, Gareth decided, was a dead man. 
Not even Eddie’s fucking crush on the guy could save him now. 
xXx
“Did you know Harrington has a literal pack of kids he watches?” Gareth asked a few hours later, messing with his drum kit as he set up for band practice. "He even drives them around." 
More than that though--he’d seemed almost normal around them. That was the most Gareth had seen the guy banter or act relaxed since Eddie had dragged him over. 
“He’s mentioned it multiple times.” Grant replied, tuning his bass. “You have ears Gareth, use them.” 
“Gareth? Listen?” Jeff teased as he dragged an amp into the garage. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.” 
"Oh screw you guys.” Gareth growled, winging a drumstick toward his friends for the insult.
Grant, long used to Gareth's tantrums (and Eddie's dramatics)  didn't look up from his bass.
Not even when the drumstick hit the wall with a bang!-- allll the way near the opposite end of the couch, entirely opposite of either him or Jeff. 
"As usual, your aim is dead on." Jeff appraised sarcastically. 
"Like I'd ever actually hit you." Gareth grumbled with a pout. "I was gonna say the kids are older than I expected."
He reached down, blindly fishing for another drumstick from the bucket of them next to his kit. 
He came up empty. 
"Hey Grantman." Gareth asked, tone changing to something mildly embarrassed. "Could I uh, could I get the drumstick back?" 
He got a flat stare back. "No." 
"What did I do to get stuck with such dramatic friends?" Jeff joked as he began moving all the amps he’d pulled in back into their usual places. 
They hadn't had time to unload anything other than the drums after their last show and the regret was real. 
"Eddie’s been standing on tables since seventh grade, you knew what you were getting into." Gareth fired back, making grabby hands for his drumstick. 
"And you never grew out of being that dorky middle schooler who snuck into Hellfire games and screamed we were all going to die every time anyone made a bad play." Jeff shot back. "Yet here I am, once again wondering if I should just permanently confiscate Eddie's snacks, your drumsticks, and now Harrington's fricken spatula." 
"One year. I am one year younger than you and you act like it's an entire century!" Gareth muttered, as Grant relented and leaned over to fetch said drumstick. 
"We all know Eddie chucks food at people, but what'd Steve do with a spatula?"  Grant asked as he tossed it back to Gareth.
He missed and nearly took out a cymbal in the process. 
"He had a snit while we were making chocolate roulade cause it wouldn’t roll right. Flung the spatula around so much it splattered whip cream on his ceiling." Jeff shook his head as he finished hooking an amp up to his guitar. "I had to rescue it from him." 
"His ceiling?" Gareth said in disbelief. "Wait, you were in Harrington’s kitchen?" 
"Yeah?" Jeff looked up to find his friends staring at him. 
Grant blinked. "The fuck?" 
“Can we just play?” Jeff complained, just as embarrassed as Gareth had been.
“No.” Gareth said, retrieved drumstick nearly falling from his hands in shock. “You don’t get to casually drop that you went to Harrington’s house to help him bake and then try to get us to play right after!” 
Jeff, who had done exactly that, blushed, skin darkening as he fiddled with his guitar.
“It wasn’t a big deal.” He said finally with a shrug, as if this was something he did all the time and not the groundbreaking revelation that it was.
“Did you meet his parents?” Grant said, sitting up from the couch. “What did his house look like?”
Jeff finally gave up the pretense of playing his instrument.
“I didn't, and it was kinda sad, actually.” He said, as if he didn’t live for this kind of shit. 
Gareth knew better than anyone how much of a fricken gossip Jeff could be. 
“His house was enormous. I only saw the first floor, and his kitchen is huge.” He set his hands apart at a good distance, showcasing just how large “huge” was, before continuing. 
“But it was weird. It was like a model home. No pictures on the walls, no art, no personality to the place at all.” 
“What are we talking about?” Eddie asked, finally returning to Gareth’s garage from where he’d been gathering up all the wires they’d thrown haphazardly into his van. 
“Jeff went to Harrington’s house.” Grant and Gareth tattled as one. 
“To help bake stuff for this Friday!” Jeff defended, the blush creeping back onto his face. “I was curious about his chocolate roulade recipe and he invited me over!” 
“When was this?” Eddie asked, staring at Jeff like he’d grown a second head. 
Or more likely, Gareth knew, in jealousy. But he wasn’t going to call Eddie out on that just yet. 
“Yesterday. We got to talking about it in the parking lot after school.” Jeff said with an embarrassed shrug. “He said he wasn’t the best at explaining how to do things and that he’d rather show me instead.” 
“Kinky.” Grant deadpanned, making Jeff sputter. 
“You sure you didn’t see his bedroom, Jeff? It’s okay if you fell for the ‘wanna see my music collection’ line. We won’t judge you.” Gareth waggled his eyebrows, ducking with a laugh when Jeff went to whack him. 
“Shut up, we just made the chocolate roulade!” Jeff’s ears were red now, and huh, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only person with a crush.  
“Guys.” Eddie reprimanded, tone warning. 
“Sorry Eds, you know we don’t mean it.” Gareth soothed. Of course, his best friend's anger was less about the gay comments or Steve’s reputation as Hawkin’s man whore than it was about Steve fucking Jeff (and not Eddie) but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he pointed that out either. 
Eddie didn’t respond, eyes already back on Jeff. "Details, Jeffery, give us the details!"  
He dropped onto the couch, flapping his hands at Jeff in his version of a "sit down" gesture. 
Jeff sighed, but repeated what he'd just said for Eddie as he took a seat on the edge of an amp, placing his guitar down gently. 
 "I think Wayne was right. I don't think anyone else lives there but Steve. Not full-time anyway." He finished. 
Which sounded like the best fucking thing ever until Gareth thought about it for more than two seconds. 
Tried to imagine what his life would be like if his parents and siblings were gone. Not for a day, or even a weekend, but always. 
How silent his normally loud house would be. 
Thought instantly that he'd be inviting Eddie, his friends, and hell, l even Wayne, over as often as they could handle. 
"The way he looked when I showed up, and how quiet he got when I left I just…" Jeff fiddled with his guitar’s strap. "I think he's lonely." 
The four of them sat in silence for a long moment as they digested that. 
“Hargrove kicked his ass right? And Byers?” Grant said finally, breaking the silence ad he stared up at the ceiling. 
“Old news.” Eddie replied absently, jiggling his leg.
“You think his parents were around for that?” Grant continued, slowly.
No one answered outside of Eddie's leg loudly jiggling faster. 
 "Did you see the kids hug him or anything?"
"They're like thirteen. I seriously doubt they're pestering Steve for hugs." Gareth answered flatly.  
 "So he got his ass kicked, his parents are gone, he was supposed involved in that whole has leak thing…" Grant trailed off with an air of someone who expected the end of his sentence to be obvious. 
“You’re doing that thing again where you think what you’re saying is obvious and its fucking not.” Eddie grumped. "Just spit it out." 
His friend's head finally tipped back down from the ceiling, to face the rest of them. “Maybe the flinching is because no one ever touches him anymore unless it’s to kick his ass.” 
“Oh.” Eddie blinked, body going rigid. “Oh shit.” 
“That…would make sense. A lot of sense.” Jeff said slowly. 
Grant put on a face that read ���Duh” loud and clear. 
“So what do we do about it?" Gareth asked after a moment. 
"Touch him, obviously." Grant replied, like he couldn't believe the drummer was even asking.
Gareth and Eddie shared a look while Eddie rolled his eyes.  
"The guy almost fell down the stairs last time I tried that." Gareth pointed out. 
Never mind any other time Steve got weird over the lightest of touches. Eddie couldn't even clap the guy on the shoulder without getting major side-eye. 
"No."  Eddie cut in, sitting up suddenly. His eyes had gone bright, "We're going to trick him into it." 
"We're going to trick Harrington into being okay with, what? Shoulder pats?"  Gareth echoed, like Eddie might hear himself if his words were repeated back to him. “You realize how stupid that sounds right?" 
"Shut up, listen. It's like getting a stray to trust you. You just gotta be calm and so obvious about it that they get confused and let it happen." Eddie had begun practically vibrating, causing his friends to trade uneasy glances. 
They knew that look. Eddie only got it when he thought up a plan that was going to cause problems. 
"Eddie, that makes zero sense." Jeff told him.
Gareth just shook his head, because only Eddie Munson could compare Hawkins golden boy with a fucking stray animal. 
Even if the guy kinda acted like one sometimes. 
"I just need an opening." Eddie continued, the little hamster wheel spinning in his head so fast the rest of the band could almost hear it. 
If Gareth had been told two months ago he was going to be sitting in his garage, discussing the best way to acclimate Steve Harrington to casual touch, he’d have actually smacked whatever idiot dared spew such nonsense with his drumsticks. 
"I did tell tell the kids today you were making him a D&D character." He said, before his best friend could truly go off on some half cocked plot. 
Eddie lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Gary, I could kiss you."
Gareth made a face. "Please don't."
He clapped hard before springing to his feet. "Huddle up boys, I've got a plan." 
"God help us all." Jeff muttered. 
(He huddled up anyway, any thoughts of playing guitar that night fully forgotten.) 
Bonus: 
"Why don't you just get high and watch a movie with Steve? You're a fucking cling-on when you're high." Gareth complained the next morning, when Eddie swung by to pick him up for school. 
Mostly because the plan Eddie had come up with was ridiculous.
 Eddie took both hands off the wheel, pressing them against his chest in mock offense while he stared at Gareth and not at the street. “That would be taking advantage of him and I, as a gentleman, would never." He gasped, dramatically. 
In his normal voice, he added: "Plus it doesn't count." 
“Eyes on the road!” Gareth yelped, swatting an arm. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that. People relax more when they're high and maybe Steve needs something like that as an excuse to allow it. Hell he doesn’t even need to be high, just you.”
Which Gareth personally thought was a very insightful thing to say, so of course he had to ruin it with; “or whatever.” 
"Do you recall how you kissed Jeff on the cheek when you were high and then spent the entire next month swearing up and down that you weren't attracted to men last summer?" 
"That was different. I was discovering myself." 
Eddie outright cackled. "Discovering yourself? What self help book did you pick that gem out of?"
"I was quoting you, you moron!" Gareth sputtered. 
"If I said anything like that then I was definitely high and it just proves my point. Steve would just be uncomfortable."Eddie stuck his tongue out. "So there." 
"Fine." Gareth sighed. "If we ever get high with Harrington, I'll sit in his lap."
Eddie's eye twitched. "No you will not."
Thrilled to have something to tease the elder metalhead about, a smile graced Gareth's face. "In fact, I'm calling dibs." 
"You can't call dibs on a lap! And besides, you don't even like him like that!" 
"So?" Gareth retorted. "It's a nice lap, looks comfortable. You don't want it, so I'll take it."
Eddie grit his teeth, grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. 
"I know what you're doing Gary. This is some bullshit reverse psychology shit and I will not be falling for it." 
"Oh contraire, this is sibling bullshit, Munson. You want it, so I want it." Gareth crossed his arms and looked at Eddie smugly. "And unless you do something about it, I'm getting it." 
"I hate you." 
Gareth grinned, delighted. "I know." 
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fwoglett · 3 months
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glorious-spoon · 3 months
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i accept buddie blowout fight in season 7 only if buck is the one who starts shit
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theriverbeyond · 1 year
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thinking more about John and.... at the end of HtN when he was interogating Wake, she wanted him to say her name. "i'll be dammed if i pass up the chance to hear you speak the words" and "they're dead words, a human chain reaching back ten thousand years": Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity.
and then she asks him "how did they make you feel?" and of course, John deflects.
but that's Aotearoa's national anthem in te reo Māori. and as we learn in NtN, John is Maori. that's his anthem. how must have that felt, to John? to hear his own anthem claimed by someone descended from the people who left his earth to die?
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dreemurr-skelememer · 3 months
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I'm gonna be anonymous when I say this because I have seen this done by many people... I strongly dislike the "Error and Nightmare gang are the good guys and trying to make the universe stable while The star sanses are the idiots who will not see reason" .. Like... I .. really? I'm not sure if the reason why I don't like it is because I have seen it so many times or what but it annoys me dearly. The members of the star sanses are reasonable and they are just often made as one sided ignorant people- I mean okay Lets go on the different pov, on the bad sanse side: You see them risk their lives every day getting themselves hurt over and over again all to defend different worlds for the sake of bringing what they believe to be peace and you label them as the fools who just want all the glory- really??? people who get hurt over and over again just do it for that stupid reasons??? I mean come on! Seeing as generally it is shown that the bad sanses want peace as well why not be trying to reach an agreement??? you fight over and over again and you couldn't even be bothered to try and reach their heads to finally listen to what you are saying like what "in a way" dream has done with nightmare countless times but they cant do the same? Just have them fight knowing that the other side are in the wrong and you choose to do nothing but break them?? Like is this your pride or something?? Why are they labelled as good guys yet they allow the other side to fight to their deaths with a good motive in mind but they only lack the full picture?? How am i suppose to "root for you" if this is what you do????? We get inside information of how peaceful they are and how they care for each other deeply, but if you care so much for each other why would you allow the other side to keep fighting your loved ones when they are missing the big picture, you know the big picture yet you say... NOTHING. NADA. ZILCH!! you cannot tell me that they don't listen to you when you barely speak up about the true issue or find a way to show them- you maybe say it once or twice in the whole story and then any other time you go straight to fighting or just avoid them.. COWARDS!! ALL OF THEM!! And in these stories the star sanses always state their reasons for their interference yet you cannot tell them why you are doing this?? All that comes out your mouth are insults and sneers, who would want to believe you when that is all the comes out of your MOUTHS... Excuse me... Just pissed sorry for the long rant.. Oh my gosh AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON DREAM AND NIGHTMARE, DUDE YOU GOT THE BALLS TO BLAME YOUR KID BROTHER FOR BEING A KID AND NOT RECOGNISING YOUR TRAUMA EVEN NOW AS YOU ARE MUCH MORE MATURE AND HAVE THE ABILITY TO REALIZE WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU BOTH AS CHILDREN????? Is he the one holding onto the past or is it you??? Night is always depicted as the dadmare, boss, the caring lover, the brother yet he doesn't even have the decency to face the fact he abandoned his brother in stone for 500 years or so, when he comes out you automatically hate him for something he had no idea or control of and choose to ignore his pleads, when your brother wants to reach you, you break him over and over again not wanting him in your life ever again when as i said before he was your "KID BROTHER" and you want to tell me your the good one for just wanting to cut him off with no answers or anything? You gotta be pulling my leg bro... and it would be a different story if the dreamtale background is different but no! it isnt! nothing is said to make it seem dream was an abuser of sorts, they were both hurt and yet you blame dream for all of it you have a whole ass support system yet that is your mindset??? I cant.... I really cant Uh sorry again for this long ass rant though =w=
anon our souls are holding hands resonating as one
my two cents on this (that isn't something i said. a million times before already) is that it's usually because people refuse to see the star sanses in the same light they do the bad sanses the people who actively dislike the star sanses and what they do usually do so because they can't relate to them, from what i've noticed
the bad sanses are easier to root for because of the fact that they are made of struggle and the dirty, gritty parts of morality and life so to say it's easier to think of good things in the middle of so much bad, because it's in our nature as people to look for hope or root for the good, no matter how little it is having the ability to look for goodness and love in so much evil is a form of love in of itself everybody struggles and life sucks and sometimes the world is evil and sometimes we do bad things, but that's the thing, the fact that we as people find something good in the middle of it all (like finding familial love bloom in the bad sanses, as an example) is very inspiring. at least to me!!! that's how i see it!!!! that's how i like to think people see it as well because that's how i see and enjoy them together so i can totally see why people find more relatability and love for the bad sanses. i really do get it and i agree!! like a lot!!!!! i love them too
but that exact reason is also why it really sucks that people just don't see the star sanses in the same light?
i wanna reemphasize my point in relatability: it's difficult for most people to relate to the star sanses because inherently they are the heroes, the protagonists, the main characters, because nobody are any of those things i feel like people often put them on a pedestal because of their central tropes and characteristics. they have it all already, they don't need more praise, right?
i think the biggest problem people have with the star sanses, like your whole ramble very clearly shows, is that they don't humanize them i feel like a lot of people assume that just because they are good and choose to be good and are praised for being good, they are unreachable people don't think they struggle. that it sucks being that.
it's often why i like writing the star sanses with so much struggle and so much mental illness lol, because being good is fucking HARD and they're as imperfect as everybody else. dream is anxious, ink is brash, blue is a workaholic, stuff like that
there's a lot to say but it's just....the bad sanses and the star sanses are two sides of the same coin. the bad sanses is finding good in the middle of, basically, evil and misdeed the star sanses is finding struggle in the middle of trying to do good
people often portray both of them black and white morals and it's why it gets frustrating and flat and badly written.
idk, just like how i find inspiration in the bad sanses of finding hope and love in the middle of darkness, i really admire the implications of the star sanses when you actually decide to humanize them. because if you make the star sanses struggle throughout their praise, glory, and righteousness, it's...really admirable that they still choose to do good.
like you said, the star sanses risk their lives often and fight, offering treaties and agreements, just to make things right that's so??? admirable????? like for the amount of times the bad sanses fucking fight them, i genuinely would've just given up completely, but they just....don't??? and that's so admirable and sweet? it makes them so deserving of their titles as guardians.
idk!!! this is a massive ramble too, i don't even know where i was going with it but like, yeah, i think i wanted to talk mostly about why people preferred the bad sanses over the star sanses and how it makes me sad i get you anon. with my whole body and my whole soul. i understand what you mean and i see you
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tangledinink · 21 days
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Out of curiosity, do you think your Gemini fan kids could exist in the shows canon universe? Marsh and Lake are seriously so adorable I’ve low key accepted as Donnie’s kids in the shows future canon. Also how does the krang apocalypse play out in the Gemini AU? Is it prevented or is there maybe Gemini bad timeline?
Gosh, I dunno-- I guess I don't see why not! :3c I hadn't ever thought about it too much, but there really isn't a ton of reason that they couldn't, assuming Donnie and Sorrel still meet!
Also, there are Kraang in the Gemiverse! I haven't exactly sorted out all the details yet, but what I do know is that there's no good future/bad future... there's just one timeline! The Kraang do invade and Gems and Co. do kick it in the Apocalyptic Warzone for a while... but the whole fam survives and they do eventually win the war!!! (because anything else made me too sad ; w ; and I realized at some point that it's my au so i can just do whatever I want :D yay)
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smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.
#jrwi show#jrwi fanart#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#made this within a short span of wahtever bc i gotta go up to the mountains for my stupid gay job tonight n im trying#nnot to frrRREAAAK THE FUCK OUUTTTTTTi dont wanna work but. get that bread we fuckin shall i guess#ONWARDS TO THE FISH TORMENT!! sometimes flowers feel pain when you trim them before their blossoming. atleast i imagine so#i used to draw gillion with loooong hair tied into a big ol braid. and then it was confirmed that he had short hair when he was little.#AT FIRST I WAS SAD. but then i realized the duality of. when they were little. gill had short hair. edyn had long hair.#AND NOW THEYRE OLDER. and gillion has long hair. and edyn has short hair#both mirroring eachother. looking up to eachother. subconsciously or not. they most certainly care. and most certainly miss eachother.#GILLION ALWAYS LOVED HOW LONG HAIR LOOKs. atleast i imagine so. he hasnt cut it since he left the undersea. sure he wanted to go back home#but even at the very start. he knew he was free in some way now. free to grow out his hair. an adventure would await him before he returns.#he knew it would be a while. so he cant let this go. he cant let this sought-after hair-length get cut away from him again#not yet. not yet. i like to think he loved music too. I SAW SOMETHING INTERESTING A BIT AGO#i see alot of ppl commenting on my baby gill comics like;'i wouldFIGHT this teacher i wanna KILL EM i want them DESTROYED#all very good and nice sentiments! i LOVE the energy here! and it would be nice. to have that catharsis#but the story of young tidestrider is not a story of catharsis. it is a story of agony and being so so small and so special and also so dum#and sucking so bad. and just being a kid and doing the things that a little kid does and so many tired tired people reacting badly to it#youre supposed to be the hero that will save us. our world hangs in the balance and you are the one who tips the scales.#YOU are supposed to SAVE US!! you NEED to SAVE US! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP SQUIRMING IN YOUR STUPID CHAIR!!#you'd think that young tidestrider ought to prevail. and be tucked someplace all safe and sound.#elders gone missing and rotting in a jail. their cultists nowhere around. but theres no happy endings. not here not now.#this tale is all sorrows n woes. you may dream that justice n peace win the day. but thats not how this story goes#BIG ideas for this lil baby gillion series. if anything i make ever gets disproven im killing myself in a well as to poison a water supply
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tomgrcg · 11 months
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we've learnt for a fact now that tom feels the full range of human emotions towards greg and that he can't let anyone in or he'll die. so how does he express his emotions? the only way he can let himself. he wants to be a specific kind of person, a roy, and how he is feeling and what he wants to do does not fit in with how these people behave. he doesn’t do it because it’s natural. he does it because he has to. he throws insults at it and tries to wrestle it to the ground but it feels weak because his heart isn’t in it.
neither greg or tom are like the roys at their core. they weren’t raised in it. there are moments of real happiness for the two of them when they’re alone and can just be themselves. there's something different in their relationship dynamic here than the relationships the siblings have. it doesn’t feel as bittersweet because they aren’t as fundamentally broken.
tom is more guarded, of course, he’s received some emotional damage from shiv so he always says or does something to keep greg just far enough away. he’s learnt vulnerability is dangerous. every time he tries to show shiv that he loves her she makes him feel like he’s done it wrong. this season he started behaving in a way that would get through to her but that didn’t feel good to him either, didn’t save him from being fired, nothing.
shiv needed the kind of love tom gave her the same way tom needs what greg gives him. but the difference is tom is more capable of accepting love from people he cares about and wouldn’t hurt greg any deeper than a weak insult, even if he could.
tom knows what it’s like to have to beg for someone who is supposed to care about you to do something for you, so when greg asked if he could possibly save him from going to jail he says load me up without a second thought. he cares about greg’s feelings and would sacrifice something of his own for them and it’s this empathy that tom has that the roy family is lacking.
it’s not hard for tom to think to do something for another person for no reason other than it would make that person feel good. no quid pro quo. but even when tom does do something good for greg he 'can’t stand the good feeling he’s engendered' because he feels like he shouldn’t be doing nice things for no reason.
the nero and sporus scene was tom telling greg he cares about him at all and “come with me, sporus?” was the marriage proposal. greg asks what’s in it for him because that’s how greg works and tom has to say “who has ever looked out for you” instead of “i want you with me”. tom cannot let him know the depth of how he feels so he lets greg think he's using him for something and only merely tolerates him, like everyone else does.
and then, because greg still doesn’t get it, or is choosing to ignore it, tom has to yell “not samson! i want you gregging for me!" he still can’t say the real reason why. the only time he’s shown his real emotions to greg is when he’s alone in a room and greg can’t see his face through the phone.
it's not a perfect relationship. it's not supposed to be. that's why it's so compelling. it’s please don't be better than me i can't stand it but i love you. it’s i’m using you to get somewhere in the world but i’ll still look after you even when i don’t need to anymore. (villainfvcker made a great post about this.)
i’m writing this after episode eight, and if they’re going all the way with greg’s transformation into a roy family member and he betrays tom in some way, it will be another case of a succession character destroying the only real connection they have for some kind of power, and regretting it later.
if anything at all, we know tom really does love greg, and that’s a satisfying enough tomgreg endgame for me, personally.
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st-hedge · 1 year
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OoT Dark Link redesign but I made him even more soggy and nasty. The main notes for this redesign are: Make him even more of an edgelord
This boy is my favourite and he is the most difficult one cuz his lore is very much a mystery. I’ve my own ideas but I’m not gonna say them cuz I enjoy the mystery. So I pretty much stuck dark link in the original outfit but torn and decayed cuz I associate his red eyes and purple-grey skin with rotting. His clothes are falling apart, almost becoming liquid, and his eyes have blue irises and bright bloodshot sclera. I’m imagining the ‘armour’ being a very weird texture (definitely inspired by Eiko Ishioka) with a kind of oil slick sheen to them. The chains are sinking out of sight below the water, descending who knows where. Could’ve gone more edgy but I held myself back, maybe next time
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martyrbat · 6 months
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batman confidential #1
[ID: Alfred Pennyworth walking down the stairs into the Batcave—where Bruce Wayne sits in the dark and in his costume with the cowl pulled down. Alfred announces, “Coffee, eggs benedict and The Daily Planet, Master Bruce. I took the liberty of presuming you would be taking breakfast in the cave this morning.” Alfred sets the tray down on a nearby table as Bruce silently holds a gun up without looking at him, his finger still on the trigger. Alfred gasps, “Master Bruce? That gun, is it...?” He trails off but Bruce speaks up. “The one he used. That night. On them. I took it from the G.C.P.D. evidence depository last year... there was nothing more they could learn from it.” Bruce unloads it, letting a bullet clank to the desk before he picks it up and stares somberly at it. Alfred stiffens up as he asks, “I see. And what precisely did you hope to achieve by stealing your parents' murder weapon, if may be so bold as to inquire...? Beyond an increased capacity for morbid introspection, that is.”
Bruce elaborates, “He fired two rounds. 117-grain hollowpoints... twenty-five cents apiece from any gun store. Is that all their lives were worth, Alfred? Fifty cents of ammunition...? He left four rounds in the clip, one in the breech, dropped it and ran—afraid to finish what he started. And I just stood there. Helpless.” Alfred tells him, “The good your parents did lives on, Master Bruce. And I, for one, am glad he left those final rounds in the gun. I happen to believe the world is better served for having you in it.” Bruce still doesn't look at Alfred or acknowledge the kind statement. He'll go on to explain that a young mother was murdered while he was on patrol and that he blames himself for not preventing it. END ID]
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bratbambii · 1 year
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i know this might be a little controversial, but tbh i’ve always fantasized about doing some of the kinkiest, rawest, gut wrenching, toe curling stuff… like holding hands.. and falling in love.. and valuing each other as people whilst growing along side one another and giving each other the healing, all encompassing, unconditional love that we never got as children…. I know, i know. That’s some depraved shit tbh 🥴 but i just can’t help myself 💁🏽‍♀️
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feroluce · 11 months
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When Al Haitham dreams, it's in shades of sandy blonde and red, metallic gold and feather-blue. His nightmares are colored much the same.
Kaveh leisurely strolls ahead of him, shoes leaving deep treads in the soft desert sand. He keeps a careful distance, arms length, and in return Al Haitham keeps an eye on him, the other man's back dead center in his sights.
He curses the sand in his boots and the long line of footprints he steps into, already the exact shape of the soles of his shoes.
They aren't lost. Al Haitham knows where they are. They've been here before. They are still here.
Kaveh doesn't watch their feet. His head is constantly tipped back with his eyes on the stars and their constellations (of which Al Haitham only knows two, Vultur Volans and Paradisaea). He'll walk right into a cactus like that. Al Haitham yells ahead for him to watch where he's going.
Kaveh reaches up to touch the side of his head in a strange motion, but otherwise there's no acknowledgement. They press on into the dark of night.
Something squelches beneath Al Haitham's boot.
It stops him short, pulls his attention like a magnet and as much as he wants to, he can't ignore it. He doesn't want to lose any more ground. But something won't let him move on. Al Haitham watches as red seeps into the golden sand, spills beyond the border of his bootprint until he slides his foot aside.
It's an ear.
It's a human ear, and there's a heavy earring attached, metallic gold, gems red and green, a familiar shape, a familiar shade-
Al Haitham opens his mouth to yell. Chokes. Swallows the lump in his throat as he quickly restarts his pace. Tries again.
"Hey!"
Another squelch under a hurried footstep. He doesn't stop to look. Al Haitham is pretty sure he knows what it is.
"Kaveh, hey!"
The path becomes littered, little slices and small pieces, fingertips and knuckles, Kaveh's arms once held casually behind his back now strewn along the sands. Every time Al Haitham extends his hand to him, reality warps and bends like the twisted image in a broken mirror, lines mismatched and edges jagged. Kaveh flits just beyond his grasp, fleeting fae, no longer able to hear him or to reach out to him. Al Haitham can only grit his teeth and follow.
His right foot marches forward. His left follows. His right again. His left suddenly doesn't follow, and Al Haitham is thrown off balance and pitches forward, swinging his arms outward to land on his palms and keep his face off the ground, because he's been in the desert enough times to know what a foot suddenly being stuck can mean.
Quicksand.
Al Haitham curses and swears in just about every language he knows as he tries to spread his weight as evenly as possible, stay afloat at the top of it because if he sinks, he knows he'll be done for, and shit, Kaveh.
His neck cranes uncomfortably in his search, Kaveh had only been a few feet in front of him, he can't be sunk much further, and he's in the desert much more often than Al Haitham anyway, he'll be familiar with what to do-
Kaveh stands in front of him, empty sleeves fluttering loose. Still just out of his grasp, still watching the stars. The quicksand is already up to his calves.
"Say, Al Haitham..." It's the first he's spoken this whole time. His voice resonates somewhere deeply nostalgic in Al Haitham's chest, produces a ripple that momentarily stuns his heart.
Kaveh is sinking.
Al Haitham stretches out on his belly as far as he's able, it's quickly up to his knees, Kaveh isn't even trying to redistribute his weight or pull himself out, it's at his thighs, Al Haitham sucks in a breath and yells for him, his hips, yells louder, his waist, Al Haitham's trembling fingertips can almost reach, his chest, Kaveh drops level with him, quicksand about his neck like a noose.
Kaveh's head tips back, back, impossibly far back, until it hangs, angle awkward, and he's looking right past Al Haitham with his tired smile and gouged, blinded sockets full of starlight.
"Do you believe in karma?"
The quicksand swallows him entirely and Al Haitham dives, shoves his arms deep and pushes off with the one foot he'd had left on safe ground, because he can't, he can't, it's not the same without Kaveh, not anymore, he needs him, no one else keeps him sharp, no one else challenges him like Kaveh, if he can just grab him, if he can just pull him back up-
Al Haitham thrashes, against the sands, against gravity, against the hardwood of his bedroom floor. Clumsily scrubs the back of his hand across his face to rub the grit of quicksand and sleep out of his eyes.
Sometimes he thinks he preferred it when the Akasha was still harvesting his dreams.
He pops his head out from under his weighted blanket and lays where he'd fallen out of bed for a moment, blinking blearily against the lamplight shining from his desk in the corner. Deep breaths. His consciousness shifts along the blurred line of nightmare and reality, crosses over the slow transition into wakeful awareness.
He's home, Kaveh is home. It's dark out. The house is dead silent.
He's just going to go check, he tells himself as he peels himself out of his sweat-soaked shirt and roots around for a replacement. He's already losing memories of his nightmare, the details spilling away from him like wet ink, but he knows he needs to see Kaveh. It'll feel better to do something, anything, than try to go straight back to sleep.
He's quiet when he slips out of his bedroom door, because they both keep late hours but their bedrooms are right next to each other, and Al Haitham will never hear the end of it if he wakes his roommate up.
Lights off, door shut. Nothing conclusive. He moves out to the main room.
Kaveh sits on one of those ridiculous sofas he'd ordered three of for some reason, back to him as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. A mostly-empty wine bottle stands tall on the table, next to the cobbled-together remains of an architectural model that's been picked and fussed over for four days straight now.
"Kaveh? What are you doing?"
This earns him an exaggerated startle, but Kaveh doesn't turn to look at him, preoccupied with whatever new sketch or blueprint he probably has in his hands. "Ohhh, nothing," he slurs cheerfully. "Just working. Just thinking."
Kaveh has always been the world's chattiest drinker. Al Haitham waits for the rest of it.
"Say, I think...I think I asked you this years ago, back then, but you never answered me." Al Haitham feels all the blood drain from his face in ominous familiarity, drip cold down the length of his spine. Kaveh sinks into the couch until he can tip his head over the back of it, looking up at him with a tired smile and exhausted eyes.
"Do you believe in karma?"
#genshin impact#haikaveh#al haitham#kaveh#kavehtham#these two have had me chewing concrete lately god#3.6 got me frothing at the mouth#something about al haitham trying to save kaveh from himself and his own guilt complex and self-sabotage wheeee my heart#and he's normally so self-assured but he fucked it up spectacularly the first go around- good job baby-#and now it's years later he's trying again but it's something he's barely chipping away at not to mention Kaveh not wanting his help lol#and so some of Al Haitham's nightmare is objective fact and some of it is his own subjective pov#Kaveh loses his arms and ears bc al haitham is frustrated that he won't hear him out or reach out for help#and he keeps his eyes up and eventually blinds himself bc al haitham thinks of him as too idealistic and blind to reality#and kaveh does all this to himself bc when you ask al haitham about his troubles he talks about people who cause trouble for themselves#kaveh pondering the concept of karma in relation to his bad luck and misery and guilt about his father's death in the quicksand *fans self*#al haitham starting to get just a little nervous that maybe he really he can't do anything about this#or that one day it'll be too little late ough. love when I can whump character by whumping the other.#two for one special buy one get one two birds stoned at once type of deal#i have a Vision about them and their stupid dumbass relationship dynamic that I need to yell about later but for now: this#written while listening to A Sadness Runs Through Him by The Hoosiers which hilariously was introduced to me as a pla Emmet song#'but here was a man mourning tomorrow; he tried to finally drown in his sorrow'#'oh he could not break surface tension; he looked in the wrong place for redemption'#'don't look at me with those eyes; I tried to unheave the ties; turn back the tide that drew him in'#'but he couldn't be saved'#'a sadness runs through him'#extremely kaveh and haikaveh song for me ough#my fics#gore#body horror#I mean it's pretty unrealistic but still just in case
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fandomestuff · 1 year
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"What do you want then?"
"To die, buried under the weight of my own gold."
KAZ BREKKER I SWEAR TO GOD TURN OFF YOUR STUPID SASS AND YOUR STUPID ANGST AND KISS THAT BEAUTIFUL LADY
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spocksgotemotions · 2 months
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today one of my boys at work (almost 3), dumped a full shovel full of sand into his mouth and then looked at me very stressed out that his mouth was full of sand
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vigilskeep · 29 days
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daeran’s party at heaven’s edge made me feel the full spectrum of emotions in like 2 minutes
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