#its just the way other people live and do things seems genuinely impossible for me. i dont get how they do it

[lesbianwithchainsaws]

Being queer and neurodivergent is great and all until you're with relatives and you watch other people and feel like an outcast in your own family

#extra fun that i cant exactly tell my therapist that being queer is one of the reasons i feel this way #because peoples opinions on queer people here generally arent good #idk sometimes it feels like I dont belong anywhere and feel really alone even though i know im not #its just the way other people live and do things seems genuinely impossible for me. i dont get how they do it #sometimes wish i wasnt who i am ngl #can someone please tell me something nice. my self esteem is buried deep underground right now and i feel not great #sorry for bringing vent posts here on tumblr. i just genuinely dont have many people or places that I feel okay talking about this stuff #especially no one irl i feel okay telling all this to #and dm'ing people is also really difficult. i genuinely struggle to do it #vent post

[trans-androgyne]

Sorry if this is an irritating ask or anything, but could you please explain to me what people find wrong about the term transandrophobia? As far as I’m aware it’s literally just a word to describe trans men’s oppression. I’m not against the idea that it might have something wrong with it (as a transmasc person), but through all this fighting I’ve never once seen someone clearly explain what the problem is.

I’ve seen people claim that transmascs keep throwing transfems under the bus, but the only thing I’ve ever seen is actually the OPPOSITE way around, and only when I go searching for it (but that might just be because I make an effort to keep my dash free of that kind of thing) again I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, I just… don’t quite understand all this.

Sorry abt this rambly ask, I’m just tired and frustrated and I HATE that we’ve been pitted against each other

I will do by best to genuinely present and respond to the main arguments I have heard made against using the term. Apologies in advance for the length.

The most common in my experience is that “androphobia/misandry doesn’t exist,” or “men aren’t oppressed for being men,” based on the terms transandrophobia and its origin, transmisandry. It feels like a non-sequitur to me, completely bypassing the actual meaning of the term. Some people do include androphobia or misandry in their definition of the term, but many more don’t and just use it to describe the intersection of transphobia and misogyny in the lives of transmascs or even just “transphobia against transmascs.” I personally do believe androphobia exists in a literal sense—the fear of men that has serious consequences—but not in the way they mean it. They are attempting to paint us as MRAs, but nobody who gets any eyes on them using the term has ever argued that women oppress men as a class. MRAs are antifeminist, and the transandrophobia conversation is very much a feminist one.

The simplest is just that transmascs just “don’t need a word” to talk about their oppression. Our experiences are called “just transphobia” or “just misogyny” based on whatever they think applies most in the moment. Our theorizing is painted as useless infighting or just being jealous that trans women have a word to describe their oppression. I vehemently disagree with this one, I think everyone deserves language to describe their experiences. I think it’s impossible to ignore the way that both transphobia and misogyny interact to affect us in a new way (the very definition of intersectionality), and that we deserve to recognize and describe that intersection. Even the coiner of the word “transmisogyny” appears to agree with us on this.

Other people will focus on the term’s perceived origins. They frequently call the person who changed the term “transmisandry” to “transandrophobia” a “lesbophobic transmisogynist” and rape fetishist. From everything I’ve been able to put together on the matter, it seems to be that they’re referring to him having engaged in someone else’s detrans kinks as a sex worker on a private blog. I’ve heard from others he may have harassed people, absolutely cannot verify that. To me, it feels like another case of accusing trans people with kinks others find unsavory of being a sexual predator/sex pest, which people generally recognize as transphobic. In any case, even if every single part of their outrage was true, I do not think the behavior of a person who didn’t even come up with the ideas means that transandrophobia theory is inherently transmisogynistic.

In regard to “throwing trans women under the bus,” I think a lot of those ideas come from oppositional sexism. It’s assumed that what we’re saying is true of men must be the opposite for women. Trans women, including the woman who coined “transmisogyny,” have been using trans men’s perceived “opposite” experiences to prove their points for many years. They try to make a claim for transmisogyny by saying trans men don’t experience similar issues (violence, sexualization, demonization, safety issues, misogyny, trouble passing). But the reality is, trans men do experience those issues — some to a lesser extent, some in a different form, some just less visibly due to our chronic erasure — and have other issues of their own that trans women don’t face (like abortion rights issues). An attack on the idea that trans men have it easier is seen as an attack on transmisogyny as a concept. But it isn’t!! Transmisogyny is so blatant and oppressive of a system that it doesn’t need to compare itself to transandrophobia/trans men’s issues to have ground to stand on. Trans people are all harmed by transphobia in different, complex ways and none of us have gendered privilege.

Very few people engage with the actual meat of transandrophobia theory. We have really bad optics, I’ll give them that. It’s hard to like a word with “androphobia” in it, talking about men’s issues puts people on edge due to MRAs, and there are TERFs actively trying to recruit us. (The last part is used against us when it shouldn’t be, they try to recruit transmascs of all stripes for detransitioning and are only using us in particular because so many transfems have been awful to us because of the term. They are trying to widen that divide while most of us discussing transandrophobia are trying to close it.)

We (people who use “transandrophobia”) are often characterized as a unified movement that hates trans women (like in that post that blew up in the wake of predstrogen’s banning). We are not a movement any more than “transmisogyny” or “exorsexism” are. We don’t all believe the same things, the only thing we share in common is that we feel transmascs have a specific kind of oppression and deserve a word to describe it. And, obviously, we are doing our best not to perpetuate (trans)misogyny! The number of disclaimers I have seen people put on their post to make it exceedingly obvious to the piss on the poor website that they’re not talking about trans women is absolutely astounding. I’m sure our circles do have some transmisogyny in them, everywhere does! We do our best to combat it and I know my personal spaces have a couple transfems in them that help keep us in check. If we were being genuinely transmisogynistic, I would ask people to actually point to what they’re seeing that’s harmful instead of just dismissing all of us as evil bigots.

I think what contributes to the backlash the most is simply that trans men do not fit into current understandings of feminism well. People have gotten it into their heads that men are gender oppressors and not gender oppressed — which doesn’t shake out so well when you put being trans into the equation. I grew up hearing “ew men are gross” “I hate men” “kill all men” sentiments due to being in LGBT spaces. Some people really, really do not want to let go of the idea that men are bad and icky and dangerous and women are good and pure and safe, especially when it benefits them as non-men. Many transmascs themselves have internalized the idea that they are gender oppressors, traitors to feminism, more likely to be dangerous/predatory/misogynistic, and take up too much space because they are men/mascs. I sure felt like that before finding these conversations! I sincerely think that as we grow our transfeminism and heal from our gender essentialism a little more, this rhetoric will be left in the past.

#long post #resources #ask #mine #transandrophobia #transmisogyny #transphobia #intracommunity issues tag

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 2 MATCH 31

Van propaganda:

"He's a great artist, he's charming and caring... At first it seems like a standard meet-cute with this guy but he turns out being connected to the player character through destiny, in several of their past (and future) lives... Not in all of them you meet, not in all of them you like each other immediately, but in many of them you end up finding one another by chance (or is it fate?), and staying together as a choice."

"He loves you, he hates you, he's one snide comment away from getting an HR complaint, he's been painting the same question over and over again and you're the answer, he uses Pochacco as his profile picture, whats not to love??"

Derek propaganda:

“Extreme hot take but Derek is the best OL1 love interest. He has the best and sweetest confession in the game. You play video games together. He seems reserved until you actually start dating and find out that he's actually just a gentleman who didn't want to be overly forward with someone he's not in a relationship with. He's a family man. You get to blatantly abuse your 'dating' privileges in front of his brothers. He's just so insanely sweet and caring and makes me wanna cry whenever I play his DLC.”

“- Impossible to dislike

- No, like, literally impossible. OL1 will allow you to be indifferent to it's two other LIs, Cove and Baxter but you actually can't pick that option for Derek. Game decided that You Will Be (at least) Friends With Derek

- This boy is so good!!!! He's a sweetheart and has your back in the best way and he's constantly doing his best to make sure the people around him (especially you) are happy

- This is also a complex flaw of his because he feels like he needs to be the best that he can be and to be worth something

- This both manifests in how he treats others (he's exceedingly well-mannered and does everything for others because he secretly hopes that someday someone will do the same for him) and his career prospects (he takes on excessive practice to get good at football/soccer so that he can potentially get a scholarship and become famous all so he can potenially feel like he's worth something. This is actually a major conflict in his Step 4)

- His DLC also has some of the best moments in the game

- He also has a family and they're also really good and you get to see a lot of them

- His dad is hilarious, his mom is gorgeous and their relationship is very cute

- Meanwhile, Derek's brothers are great. I wanna gush about them because I love them but also play Derek's DLC yourself!!! See how good they are for yourself!!!!

- I will say that these three have a really good relationship dynamic and the development it takes in the 10 years between when you first meet Jorge and Nico as little kids to Step 4 where they're adults (and a teenager, Nico is 16 in Step 4) is genuinely very well written

- If you're into the steamy stuff, Derek also has the best make-out session out of all of the boys

- He's also just. Very funny. This boy will invite you to a waterpark and then ask you if its a date so he knows whether or not it's ok to check you out in your swimsuit

- Or, if you aren't dating by that point (but you do want to to date him), the narration will note how he's trying so so hard not to check you out, he's just trying so so so hard

- Puppy dog face. Look at it. Tell me you can look at that face and not want to smooch him

- His confession is also the best, did I mention it's the best? Because it's absolutely the best one in the entire game

- He has a whole thing about having to confess to you on a ferris wheel and he's so committed to it that he actually avoided ferris wheels for a long time before this confession because he promised himself he'd do it the next time he went on one

- And then he went on one...and he literally doesn't confess when he does it because he lost track of time and he had to get off

- so he asks you to go on the ferris wheel with him again so he can actually confess this time

Just. Just vote for him!!!!”

“He's sweet, polite, and out-going and is always willing to put you first (sometimes too willing).”

“polite responsible jock u r NOT immune to this”

#Intertwine Van #Intertwine #intertwine vn #Derek Suarez #Our Life #our life: beginnings & always #Round 2 #MDDC 2

[acti-veg]

i genuinely feel like it’s impossible to be an ethical person without sacrificing pretty much everything which gives me any joy

i went vegan, but now i just keep seeing how i fall short in so many other ways. it seems like everything i previously enjoyed has to be boycotted. everything is problematic in some way.

I don't feel like 'ethical' is a thing anyone actually just achieves and becomes 'an ethical person' one day by being nice enough and boycotting enough companies; it's something we have to strive for. I agree with Aristotle that virtue is a skill, it's not something you just are, it's something you have to constantly practice and that won't always be easy. That is made all the more difficult by capitalism.

Whatever you want to buy that will give you joy that you know is harmful, consider whether there is a more ethical version. Can you buy it second hand? Is there a more ethical company selling the same thing? Can you replace it with something else? You can't deny yourself every pleasure, but if something that brings you joy is inherently harmful you can choose to examine whether or not you actually need it to feel happy, and if you really do, how you can mitigate at least some of that harm. It's about choosing your battles.

I can't not eat any vegetables or grains without a severe health impact for example, and I can't afford to buy everything locally and I can't grow it all myself, so I buy it from the supermarket, knowing that much of it will have been farmed in environmentally destructive ways using unfair labour practices. People who aren't even trying will bring that up as a reason why veganism isn't ethical, but it's a lot better than consuming that unethical produce alongside animal products, which require even more of that exact produce.

I can't be completely cruelty free but I can relatively easily boycott animal products, and I can pay for the extra 15% on coffee, chocolate and bananas to buy Fair Trade. There is just about no smartphone or computer that does what I need it to do that is also ethical, but I can buy them refurbished instead of new. I can boycott particularly harmful companies, while knowing that what I replace their products with won't be ethically perfect either - just better. None of these are hugely commendable acts or difficult sacrifices, but it all helps.

Being vegan does not make you a good person, it's just one stance on one particular issue, which is the exploitation of animals. I oppose exploiting animals and refusing to purchase products which engage in that exploitation is accessible to me, and so I do it. It's that simple. Plenty of my other purchases aren't ethical and neither will yours be, because a lifestyle free from any and all harm is not possible under capitalism.

So long as you're doing your best that's really all anyone can expect. We're going to pass through this world just once, so we should enjoy it while trying to leave our small corner of it a little better off than it was before we got there. Being kind to one another and living a good life may not always be easy, but its also not some great burden that robs you of any joy. It is the entire point of living.

#ask #vegan #ethics #philosophy #ethical consumerism

[mybelde]

10: downpour ♤

17 January, Monday 4.25pm

Location: Teyvat University's Foyer

Nothing ever goes as planned. Therefore people tell you to expect the unexpected. But how were you supposed to know that day it was going to rain? Even the weather forecast didn't expect it. What made things worst was that you forgot your dorm key and now you couldn't even go back to your dorm if you wanted to. You therefore resorted to texting in your gc for help

17 January, Monday, 4.47pm

You sat at your campus' foyer as you waited for Aether to arrive. You watched the rain pouring down everywhere. To see the water droplets crash down everywhere seemed so fascinating to you. Even though it was late afternoon, the sky was so gloomy. It almost seemed like it was in sad mood. The opposite to what you were feeling currently.

Your heart was racing and you waited for Aether with anticipation.

You didn't know why you were so worked up. Was it because it was your first time seeing Aether after two weeks? Probably.

You genuinely enjoyed his company that day and you wanted to hangout with him more. But you didn't know what was stopping you from asking him again. Did you feel shy with him? Did he enjoy your company? You hoped he did. Otherwise your goal to be friends with him was going to be impossible to achieve.

You soon heard the sound of someone running towards you. You turned around and spotted a familiar blond holding a large umbrella.

"Sorry if you had to wait a long time for me to arrive yn, I came as quick as I could."

You glanced over his features, he looked like he was out of breath and was gasping for air.

"It's alright Aether, I didn't wait for long. And you shouldn't have ran all the way here when it's raining, what if you slipped and got hurt??? Your sister would probably be worried sick!!"

You heard him give a small chuckle as a response and you sighed.

"Let's just wait here for a while until you catch your breath. After all, you only came here just because Lumine told you and I feel bad."

"I came here because it was you yn."

You felt your breath hitch and you looked at him in confusion.

"W-well i heard from lumine that no one was able to pick you up... and i thought you wouldn't have liked to stay here and wait until 6 for my sister or Hu Tao to arrive when you could be doing other things. I mean I wouldn't want to be stuck in this downpour alone as well, hahah.."

Wow, he was so thoughtful.

You gave him a small smile and replied, "Thanks Aether, I really appreciate you coming here to pick me up."

"Don't mention it! So..." He held his hand out towards you.

"Shall we get going?"

"We shall."

.

.

The walk in the rain was a quiet one, despite the rain crashing down everywhere. Both you and Aether were walking to his and Lumine's house in silence. The siblings opted to live in their own house instead of the campus dorms since their house was quite near to the college.

The both of you were sharing an umbrella together and were heading towards your destination. Though the umbrella was big enough to fit you both, you can't help but fluster over the fact that you were standing so close to him. Sure, you were literally on him when he saved you from the cyclist that day but that was different! It was in the heat of the moment. This time you were actually walking next to him and trying to not get wet in the rain.

"So... how was your day?" He asked. Probably trying to break the silence between you guys.

"Hmm... I guess it was alright. But Professor Varka was definitely picking on me today. He kept on asking me questions during lecture today and I couldn't even get out of it. And I think Ms Lisa is starting to get annoyed of me and Scara's antics lol, plus..."

While you were going on and on about your day, you didn't notice how big Aether's smile was getting as he stared at you.

"Oh shit, my bad. I didn't mean to talk so much haha.."

"No its fine, your voice is so soothing to hear if I'm being honest with you."

Oh?

Your heart started beating faster and you quickly became flustered.

Damn, I didn't know he was such a smooth talker.

"O-oh thanks... I didn't think my voice was actually that soothing to hear.. well what about you? How did your day go??"

Nice recovery yn.

"Me? It was pretty alright as well. I just finished my first journal entry today about Fontaine's latest invention."

"Ooo can I read it? I wanna know how you write your journal entries. I'm used to reading Lumine's entries, but I'm sure you have a different writing style than hers."

"Yeah sure! I can let you read some of my journals, oh and it looks like we finally arrived."

You looked up to see the familiar house you've been to many times. You used to visit Lumine at her house a lot since highschool, but whenever you were around, Aether seemed to be nowhere in sight. But now, it was just the two of you, in the house, alone.

And before you could do anything else, you had to get something off your chest first.

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

Finally done with this chapter 💀

Took me a while to figure out what to write, hopefully it came out okay

tag list - open |•| @bobaducky @belovedxiao @mangobee @kokxm1 @crueldinasty @c-sunflower01 @xiaosoneandonly @denisemyg @shinjume @droopygh0st @yae-raidenmyloves @goodnight-haley @cocaine-milkshake-666 @bubiblossom @hollowedtime @redactedhimbo @scaramouche-slut

if your name is in red, it means its not letting me tag you from some reason :(

send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist

#genshin impact #genshin impact smau #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin au #aether smau #aether x reader #aether x y/n #aether fluff #your bestfriend's twin brother

[plumxwrites]

hellraiser. // eddie munson. (6)

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader - stranger things cast x female!reader

summary: Between school, band practices, D&D nights and shitty parents, you and Eddie have created the perfect little secret life together. The town of Hawkins despises him, but not you. You’re head over heels for the son of a bitch. About to graduate, the two of you are ready to run out of Indiana the moment those caps go in the air, but the inevitable Hawkins Curse creeps its way back into town, and takes hold of what you once thought was untouchable.

word count: 12k (YIKES, I'm sorry, I got carried AWAY.)

warnings: language (always), mentions of death, suggestive conversation, SEXUAL CONTENT, MDNI, 18+ , mentions of s/a storyline (not descriptive), smoking and drinking,  SEASON 4 SPOILERS. I was sectioning off the SC, but I've just left it alone in this part.

a/n: hi, thanks for being here! :) Follows the storyline of Season 4! Beware of spoilers in case you haven’t watched the masterpiece. So, disclaimer, I've realized I've messed up the years, I think, and made Nancy and Jonathan a year older than they should be. Oopsie, we're just gonna go with it. I want the whole gang back together soon, I love them all together, this is right before shit starts to hit the fan... Not ready.

*gif not mine, creds to whoever owns*

{ plums masterlist }

part six. what else would you do with spare time?

Water sloshed beneath the boards of the shed, a simple sound that had lulled you to sleep in Eddie’s arms. An hour and a half had passed since you ran from Robin and Nancy at Hawkins High, and straight to Rick’s in shambles. It was an hour and a half of deep breaths, of Eddie calming you down and trying to make you smile, and ultimately trying to not lose his own shit over what you had seen.

For a millisecond he didn’t believe you, and it genuinely made him worry about you being drug too far into this mess, the thought of you possibly going crazy twisting his stomach into a knot, but after seeing Chrissy levitate to his ceiling… He’s sure that whatever you saw was very real. Vines, and slime, and a mother who looked like a monster didn’t seem impossible for Hawkins at this point.

Quieting down after Eddie affirms your stories, he simply says, “I believe you,” And it’s enough for you, even if you weren’t sure he was telling the full truth.

“Don’t bullshit me, Eddie, I know how this sounds-” You had mumbled back to him. Eddie lifted a hand to brush your hair from your face, and kissed you softly on the forehead, cutting off the end of your sentence swiftly.

“No, no… No, I’m not, truly, I- I do,” He had whispered, centimeters from your face, “I believe you.”

Nothing else was said for a few minutes after that, so you subconsciously let your eyes shut, letting the sound of the lake and the cool breeze that grazed the skin of your cheeks pull you into a sleep that was much needed.

The moment each of your breaths got heavier, signifying you were actually asleep, Eddie closes his own eyes, taking a long, deep breath into his stomach. He glances down to you quickly, feeling your body move against his, thinking the way his chest rose was what disturbed you. He smiles longingly, watching you shift where your head was cradled in his elbow, turning your body into his and wrapping an arm around his waist. 

He wanted to live in this moment forever. With everything that was going on outside of the shed door, the cops, the people searching for him, and- the Upside Down world, apparently- for the first time in a long time… Eddie’s mind was quiet. Sitting here on the floor with you wrapped around his body sound asleep, the view of the moon hanging over Lovers Lake admiring its own reflection, and the serenity the fresh air was giving him was infatuating. 

His brain was hardwired with permanent struggle. Living was harder for Eddie than it was for other people, and he’s spent so many of his days wondering why everyone else was given a handbook on life and he was somehow snubbed. It was as if other kids his age had the blueprint. School was a battle, and conversing with others was a hassle because they thought he was just… strange. He didn’t know why he couldn’t control the odd impulses that weasled their way into his brain somehow, and when he did get control, he snapped in some other way. Once Eddie had told his Uncle Wayne that it felt like life was a tree and everybody was a bird, or something who knew how to climb said tree, and the two of them shared a laugh till Eddie said that in that scenario he was a fish. A fish trying to climb a tree that every other wilderness Alvin, Simon and Theodore could make it to the top of with ease.

The past couple of days there had not been a single soul up his ass bothering him. He hasn't been hassled by teachers, or glared at on the streets. There were no cops making their presence known whenever Eddie stepped even an inch into their eyesight, and even though it was eating him alive from the inside out, he was glad neither of you have had to deal with your parents. Eventually he’s sure you were going to have to go home. Eddie was a nuisance, and wanted to protect you, but he wasn’t a homewrecker. A homewrecker in the sense that he would pull you away from your family, that was the last thing he would ever want for you.

From somewhere behind him, there’s a muffled buzz and the sound of a voice. A voice that belonged to a curly haired, tiny genius. Perking up a bit, Eddie looks over his shoulder and very delicately takes the hand from around your legs to push aside the tarp from the boat that was crumpled in the corner, revealing the walkie that Dustin had left for him. Scooting closer to the corner to reach it, Eddie glances down to you to make sure he isn’t waking you up.

“Dustin? Dustin?” Eddie says quietly. Releasing the button, he waits seven seconds, he counted, until he gets a response.

“Hoooly shit, Eddie,” Dustin's voice is hushed, a tinge of worry laced within it. Eddie cracks a smile anyway, thrilled to hear from him regardless of what it was about.

“Hey man,” Eddie says, “What are you guys up to, what’s going on?”

“No time for small talk,” Dustin scolds, and Eddie’s eyebrows knit together, “Where the hell are you?”

“Uh,” Eddie chuckles, “Ricks?”

“Are you asking me, or telling me, Eddie, Jesus Chri- Y’know what, whatever, we’ve got a situation on our hands here, a big one,” Dustin is speaking a mile a minute.

“Dustin, calm down,” Eddie tries to intervene, but Dustin starts chattering on and on about Max and how she’s seen Vecna, and how all of her symptoms match up with Chrissy and Fred, another boy who was killed the exact way the cheerleader had been. He was the reason that the sirens went by that morning, they were going to the scene of the crime.

Shutting his eyes tight, Eddie scrunches his face, trying to keep the image of what he’s witnessed out of his mind. He listens to his friend describe everything Max has seen, the kid clearly repeating things to Eddie that were said from other people behind him, probably Max. Eddie can only imagine the way she was rolling her eyes at him, he didn’t know Max that well, but he knew she was a pistol. Looking down at you after another mention of Vecna’s name, Eddie’s heart rate escalates.

“Uh, Dustin,” Eddie says calmly once the freshman had quieted, “You mentioned something… about a clock?” 

“Yep,” Is all that is said back to him. Laughing to himself at how simple the response was, Eddie shakes his head.

“What would happen if someone thinks that they… saw Vecna, but didn’t see a clock?” Eddie asks, letting his eyes fall on the peacefulness that is your sleeping being.

“Eddie, what have you seen?” Dustin asks with warning. You stir again in Eddie’s lap, nuzzling your face into his chest again as if you weren’t close enough. He contemplates answering, wondering if he shouldn’t share what you think you’ve seen in case there was the slightest chance it was actually a nightmare. You had told him you don’t remember falling asleep, or know if you were actually asleep. Admiring how your lashes laid on your cheeks, Eddie presses the button.

“Uh, not me, not what I’ve seen,” He says, and hears the button click on the other side, then a whole bunch of utter chaos like the walkie was being tossed around or fought over. Eddie lowers his brows, looking at it.

“What? What? Is she with you? When? How? What’d she say?” It was Robin, “She was frazzled when she got out of the car, Eddie, what did she say? She didn’t tell me anything, she just ran away, is she okay?” Swearing to all that is holy, the girl speaks faster than Dustin.

“I got her,” Eddie smiles, happy that you’ve seemed to make a friend amongst the looming apocalypse, “She’s safe. She’s… she’s sleeping,” He looks back down to you, “But she was scared. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look that terrified in my life, and being completely honest, it’s terrifying me.”

“She had that look in her eye… the one you had when we found you,” Robin says, “What did she tell you, Eddie.” 

Waiting a couple of seconds, he sighs and gives in, telling whoever was listening everything you had told him. He affirmed your story, doing it justice by giving them every detail, and telling them that he believed you, though he didn’t want to include the part about him being dead. That part was haunting him, like an eerie shadow on his back he couldn’t shake.

“But, no clock?” Robin questions. With every visual you had given him about this ominous world you were submerged in for a couple of minutes, Eddie doesn’t remember hearing about a clock, you never mentioned one.

“No clock,” Eddie confirms, chewing on his bottom lip while he waits for a response. Two minutes goes by in radio silence. “Hello?” He says into the walkie.

“One sec, Eddie,” Dustin’s voice comes through. Still fast asleep, Eddie’s eyes are on you, watching your face as your eyebrows scrunch above your closed eyes. They relax, then furrow again, making Eddie wonder what you could be dreaming about. He prays it’s something happy, an escape from the crazy and not anything menacing like a goopy monster impersonating your mother, screaming at you that your boyfriend is dead.

“Dustin,” Eddie says, getting impatient.

“Hang on! We’re trying to figure this out-”

“Dustin!” Eddie nearly shouts into the speaker, “You’ve got to give me something, is she going to be okay?” Two of Vecna’s victims had visions of him before their untimely death. Max had her first one tonight, and yes, that scared Eddie, he doesn’t want what happened to Chrissy and Fred to happen to Max. More importantly, he doesn’t want to watch you end up like them.

“Eddie, calm down, we’re talking it out over here,” Dustin tries his best to keep his cool, but it’s not enough for Eddie.

“Listen, Bard,” Eddie says from behind his teeth, “You better figure this shit out, fast. I will not sit here and wait for a mysterious countdown to come to an end. I swear to God, I will do what it takes to make sure nothing happens to her, nothing better even touch her. Dustin, you better have an answer for me fast, or I will shun you out of Hellfire before you even get the chance to touch those dice again.” Silence on the group's side. Eddie’s heart is beating even faster than before.

“You’re all idiots if you think I won’t throw her over my shoulder right now, and cross multiple state lines, changing our names, shedding our Indiana identities. I don’t even give two shits if I have to outrun a couple of small town cops, I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again-”

“Eddie,” Dustin says gently, cutting his ramble off, “We’ll figure this out. Okay?” Sucking in a slow, deep breath through his nose, Eddie closes his eyes.

“Tomorrow night,” He says, “I need an answer.”

“Tomorrow night, got it,” Dustin says, and Eddie swears he can see him saluting. 

“Be safe, buddy,” Eddie says quietly after a moment of quiet, pushing the antena of the walkie down, sliding it back into the corner of the shed. Groaning, he rolls his head back and slouches.

“What’s a Bard?” You ask just above a whisper, startling Eddie, making him jump so hard his body almost shut down and restarted itself.

“Jeeesus Chriiist, woman,” He sneers, looking down at the smile on your face. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, slow-blinking with exhaustion.

“S’okay, holy fuck,” Eddie says, laughing, “What’s a… What did you ask me?” He asks, not even processing what you had said to him before his nervous system was shocked.

“A Bard,” You say, and he gives you a look.

“You know what that is,” He grills playfully. Rolling your eyes, you smile again.

“I know,” You say before whispering, “Just tell me again. Want to hear you talk about it, makes me… happy.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, cradling your cheek in his hand, “Then we gotta go from the start.” He says in a funny voice, raising his eyebrows, both of you laughing together.

Nancy Wheeler lived in the exact neighborhood that Robin had pictured in her brain when it was said they’d all be going to the Wheeler’s. It was a grand, two story house at the end of a cul-de-sac near the Sinclairs with a long driveway and another station wagon parked there. It was a cute street to anyone who didn’t have to live there, unless you were the parents. The parents who lived in each house on this block made it their mission to outdo the others with how extraordinary their lawns appeared.

After overstaying their welcome at the high school, and Steve almost nearly beating the shit out of Lucas with a lamp, the group ushered Max out of the school and into Steve’s backseat between Dustin and Lucas. With his eyes glued to the rearview mirror, Steve followed Nancy to Maple and groaned to himself the moment her house came into view. The kids were quiet for most of the ride, though Lucas wanted nothing more than to simply talk to Max. Even Dustin was at a loss for words, especially after the conversation he’d had over the walkie with Eddie about you.

If three people had been seeing clocks, the fact that you didn’t see one wasn’t adding up and it was frustrating the freshman. To have Vecna show himself to you, show you the Upside Down and suck you into one of his visions to only chant again and again that ‘Eddie is dead’ made absolutely no sense. There was one connection shared with Eddie and Vecna, and it was that Eddie was unfortunately with Chrissy the moment he had gotten her. Other than that, Dustin couldn’t seem to put together a correlation.

“Hey, Henderson,” Steve broke the silence as he put the car in park, parking in front of the Wheeler’s in the street. All three heads in the backseat snapped to look at where he was turned around in the front, leading him to gesture his hand to Lucas and Max for them to follow the girls inside where Nancy had parked in her driveway.

“Get inside safe,” Dustin said quietly to the two of them, and accepted the glare he got from Max with grace. It was expected. She was a tough girl, and though it’s been an hour since her vision of the clock in the wall at Hawkins High, she knew sympathy and sappiness from her crew was incoming like a fire engine, and Max, this entire past year, has not been in the touchy-feely mood. 

Once the door of the BMW was shut, Dustin looks back to Steve who’s wearing a puzzled expression, one that wasn’t laced with worry, which means Steve had an irrelevant question brewing.

“What?” Dustin’s voice is flat as he looks at the thoughtless brown eyes that were watching him. Steve blinks a couple times, then adjusts himself in his seat, leaning forward as if he had a secret.

“You… You’re close with Eddie, right?” He asks, and Dustin nods curiously, slowly.

“Yes, Steve, I am,” He says, “We’ve talked about this before.” Harrington throws up a hand as if to say shut up toward his mocking tone, and shoots him an annoyed look.

“Would you- It’s not about that, it’s about his girlfriend,” Steve is borderline whispering. Dustin frowns, eyeing Steve more inquisitively than before.

“Steve… what?” He says, breaking into a laugh, “You can’t be serious right now, they’ve been dating for, like, well, forever. If you think-”

“You don’t know what I think,” Steve cuts him off, “And if you did, you’d think I was crazy,” He mumbles to himself, thinking about Eddie’s long hair for a second, and Dustin waves his hands around to get his attention back unable to hear the babbling twenty year old now, “Look,” He speaks up, shutting his eyes for only a second as he sighs to collect his thoughts, “I just want to know, since you’ve been hanging around this guy for this long now, has anything been mentioned? Y’know… About me?” Steve meets eyes with Dustin, afraid of what was going to come out of his tiny friend's mouth.

Steve can barely piece together his junior year at this point, and while dealing with Hawkins curses, remembering anything before the first time he saw a Demogorgon was hopeless. However, he remembers that night. It was humid, and August, and Nancy was wearing a white sundress and a pair of the nicest sandals she owned. Her hair was at her shoulders, and she spoke of growing it out a little more after Steve had mentioned he loved it long. 

His other friends were at the party, ones who weren’t into him and Nancy Wheeler dating, but he tried not to give two shits about what Tommy H and Carol had to say. He was insufferably in love with Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler who insisted she invited an old friend of hers to this party, one who was about to start high school and she wanted to reconnect with because she missed them. 

Steve wasn’t expecting you to show up at his front door, an incoming freshman dressed in acid washed jeans and a tucked in white tank top, like the ones his dad wore under his button ups. He certainly didn’t think you looked like you were, probably, fourteen, if anything, Steve assumed you were about to be a sophomore like Nancy and she was punking him. Your hair was pulled up in a ponytail with a rubber band, not with a scrunchy that Nancy liked to use, and you let little wispy pieces fall into your face without a care.

He couldn’t imagine what someone like you would be doing hanging out with his Nancy Wheeler. His put together, academically inclined, baby faced Nancy Wheeler with the sweetest smile.

When he let you into his house there were thirty or so people already there. He didn’t direct you to where he knew Nancy was, he told you where the drinks were and left you to the wolves until about an hour after your arrival.

It was ten thirty seven. Steve was rubbing elbows with Tommy H in his kitchen, talking over the music that was blaring out of the stereo in his living room. Tommy H was bitching about Carol, he had been all night, the two of them arguing again over some ‘stupid bullshit’ as Steve had called it. 

As the two of them got themselves another drink, they spotted you in the living room leaning against Steve’s fireplace with your arms folded across your chest and a lost look playing at your features, Steve assuming you’d spent your entire night looking for Nancy who was outside on the patio by the pool. In that moment he felt a bit guilty, Nancy had seemed so excited that you agreed to come by and he snubbed you both by not letting either of you know where the other was. He erased the guilt by telling himself his house wasn’t that big, and that you were bound to run into one another at some point.

That was when Tommy H made a rude comment about you, one that gutted Steve and sparked his, very slow, realization that his friends weren’t good people. He mumbled something back to the boy with the buzzcut, something to shut him up, but Tommy H kept going, assuring Steve he wasn’t going to try anything. There was a blurry mention somewhere that you were only going to be a freshman, something about that spurring Tommy H on even more.

Steve finally broke free, telling his friend he was going to offer you a drink and tell you where Nancy was so that the two of you could have the happy ending his perfect girl was dreaming of, no matter how he felt about you, totally judging a book by its cover. Tommy H insisted he pour it and tag along, just to see how the situation played out, making a small joke about Steve’s ‘princess’ of a girlfriend.

He approached you with hesitance, sensing your discomfort. Handing over the cup Tommy H gave him, Steve made small talk, laying on a little bit of charm as you took a tiny sip of the shitty beer without making a face. He was surprised, no girl could ever handle the taste of what came out of that keg, every single one of them would twist their face up in utter disgust. After a couple of more sips, he told you where Nancy was and left you on your merry way. 

He drifted around his party a while longer, talking to everyone else who had shown up, and then he made his way back out to Nancy who was still in a patio chair chatting with a couple of junior girls. You were nowhere to be found.

He asked Nancy about you, to her surprise, and explained what had happened a mere half hour to forty five minutes ago, Carol rolling her eyes at the mention of Tommy. Nancy had perked up, her skinny eyebrows furrowing over her big, owl eyes, and then as if on cue, a guy who was a junior with Steve came running out of the house laughing, and panting, looking for him. Commotion was coming from the open sliding glass door behind him, commotion enough to draw almost everyone inside. Commotion he doesn’t think he can forgive himself for.

Sitting here in the dark, in his car, sharing these few minutes with Dustin, asking if he had heard anything about that night and the months that followed was extremely important to him. Steve wasn’t that guy anymore, and he was sure that night he wasn’t even that guy, he was just playing the part of that guy, and it got carried away.

“Steve,” Dustin sighs, rubbing one of his eyes, his walkie in his other hand in case he gets a call about you seeing random grandfather clocks, “Why would anything be said about you?” 

“I dunno,” Steve mutters, shaking his head, “I- I’m a douche, apparently, just wanted to see if they told you their reasons why.” Dustin tries to think, but cannot remember a time where you or Eddie had even mentioned Steve.

“I didn’t even know you guys knew each other, I mean, you all went to the same high school so I knew that you knew each- Ugh, whatever, look, yes, you can be a… douche sometimes-”

“Hey!”

“Oh, come on,” Dustin glares, pausing, waiting for Steve to eventually nod along in agreement, “They don’t talk about people, Steve. If anything, those two are so wrapped up in each other they sometimes forget other people are even around,” Steve nods in agreement again, rolling his eyes this time, “They’re nice people. I know it looks like they aren’t, but, trust me, they are.”

“No, I trust you, I do,” Steve says quietly, glancing down to his hands, “They’re… nice people.” Dustin presses his lips together to smile.

“Let’s go, we gotta figure this out,” He nods to the house, and Steve sighs looking at it. The last time he pulled up to this house was during his senior year, shortly after the Halloween party Nancy had broken up with him at. He was bringing her flowers, and it evidently was when he got stuck with his tiny, curly headed, genius friend.

“Alright,” Steve says, and the two exit the car into the chill of the night air. 

Trudging up the grass, they walk in silence, the energy between them a bit stiff like it had been since Dustin had joined Hellfire Club. Steve wasn’t jealous of Eddie or the club, he was happy that Dustin had found a place he belonged in high school, because high school was a place that chewed you up the second you started to slip and fall. Steve was feeling a bit distant from him, like their friendship they’ve created was beginning to peak, and he was unsure of how to fix it. Steve guesses that going full douche-mode was his only defense mechanism when anything threatened what he loved.

At the top of the driveway Robin was waiting for Steve with a god-awful pit in her stomach that needed to be taken care of. Dustin paused with him when he stopped in front of her, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Scurry along, Henderson,” Robin waved Dustin away into the house, waiting for the door to shut behind him before slapping Steve clear across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the air around them.

“Jesus, Robin!” Steve nearly shouts, holding his own palm to his cheek where her hand had made contact, rings and all, “What the fuck was that for?” Steve glances at her hand that was still out, open and ready to go for more. 

Robin’s heart was thumping in her chest, this was something she never thought she’d have to do, but the rules of her unspoken girl code called for it. Opening her mouth to speak, she spoke your name and Steve’s eyes grew wider than they already were. 

“You’re lucky,” She chuckles, “I told her I’d kick you in the balls.” Steve jumps back, both hands covering what was sacred to him as Robin laughs again.

“What are you talking about?” Steve pleads, watching every move she makes carefully. Robin rubs both her hands together and takes small steps toward her best friend, a grimace now making itself comfortable on her freckled face.

“She told me about it,” Robin says quietly, stopping directly in front of his nose, “The party she went to,” She whispers, and Steve stands up straight, swallowing hard, “The party at your place, with Nancy, and… Tommy H.” 

“Shit,” Steve whispers, dragging his hands over his face and through his hair, “I deserved that.”

“You did,” Robin says strongly, “I could totally do it again, too.” Groaning, Steve takes a deep breath and drops his hands by his side.

“I knew this was going to happen,” He mumbles, “I knew that this was going to come up somehow, when they walked into work with her… God, it all came back.” Robin crosses her arms and watches as Steve backs up to sit on the hood of Nancys car. He buries his face in his hands and shakes his head. Stepping toward him, Robin leans on the car beside him and rests her head on his shoulder.

“That was fucked, Steve, and I mean it, that was fucked up,” She parents, “You should’ve seen the way her eyes were watering, like, this has clearly messed with her big time and continues to mess with her,” Steve doesn’t bother to answer, he just lets her speak words that help thicken his guilt, “It’s no wonder Eddie’s so protective over her.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, lowering his hands, looking up at the stars in the sky. The relationship you had with Eddie was something that Steve thought should be studied, but it really came to nobody’s surprise why you both were the way that you were, and it was something that Steve was starting to become envious of.

You and Eddie know each other on a different level of knowing a person, you have a connection that goes deeper than the love and the physical affection. Steve can’t think of the last person who knew him like that, aside from talking to Robin, but he’s not even sure if Nancy ever tried to know him like that. A love like that was something he craved.

“Do you think I should say something?” Steve asks her, glancing down where she laid on his shoulder. Robin ponders for a moment before answering.

“I think something needs to be said,” She says before adding, “Especially with her and Nancy, though. Those two have deeper shit with each other than any of us. That… is a damaged relationship.” Steve squints, and bobs his head.

“I’ll talk to Nancy first,” He begins, and Robin agrees.

“Work it out, Stevie,” She sits up to give him a smile, “You can fix it, and I’ll be here if you need help.” 

“Get! Back here!” Eddie’s erratic voice rips through the air. Leaping out of the tub you were both standing in, you leave wet footprints on the tiled bathroom floor as you bolt out of the door and into one the bedrooms on the second floor of Ricks. Grabbing the knob, you attempt to throw it shut, but Eddie’s hand pushes on it to keep it open. Giggling like crazy, you cower behind it even though you know he was going to get you.

“I’m not changing my answer!” You say as he peers around the door, his hair wet and stuck to his forehead. Lowering his chin, he mouths the words as he counts to three, and when he reaches two, you slip under his arm and down the hall effortlessly. 

“Goddammit!” He shouts behind you, laughing. You’re about to reach the stairs, ready to pummel down them, until Eddie’s hand grips your waist and pulls you back. Letting out a yelp, laughing so hard your stomach is hurting, you let your body fall limp in his arms as he carries you back into the bathroom.

“I will not… say it,” You take a deep breath, trying to relax the grin you were wearing. Eddie places your feet in the tub back under the running water of the shower and steps in front of you, pulling the curtain closed to keep the heat in.

“Say it,” He cocks his head to the side, cornering you underneath the warm water.

“No!” You say, bouncing your knees a couple of times, “Ozzy is not coming back to Black Sabbath, I’m sorry! I don’t see it happening.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and rolls his head back, planting both of his hands on the shower wall over your shoulders. Making his sigh long and entirely too dramatic, he looks down at you with his dark eyes with water droplets on his lashes.

“I cannot believe you,” He says quietly, eyes dancing between yours, “I’m sick, I really am.” It’s quiet for a second before the two of you start to laugh again.

“Now, I really hope Ozzy doesn’t outlive us, because if he comes back I need to see the day,” You say, lifting a hand to push his hair out of his eyes, “When was the last time you slept?” Your voice gets quiet, just audible enough over the water hitting the ceramic of the tub. Eddie glances at the floor before giving you a smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” He matches your tone, knowing he looked like a wreck. The two of you share a couple of quiet minutes, letting the warm water run over your tired bodies in an attempt to wash away the pressure that was hanging over your heads. Down in the shed you both admitted you needed a shower anyway, laughing with one another about how long you’ve been away from home without one. Rick has been in jail, so he didn’t have much, but you did what you needed to do.

“You’re sexy when you’re wet,” Eddie murmurs, then pulls a face that makes you both giggle at his accidental innuendo, “My god,” He chuckles.

Bringing both your hands between you, you hold the sides of his face, brushing your thumbs over the droplets of water that have made their home there, and then lean forward to kiss him. A kiss he doesn’t hesitate to deepen, pressing his body firmly against yours holding you flush against the tiled wall.

His hair tickles the skin on your shoulders, the curls an inch longer now that they were wet. Pulling away from your lips, Eddie boxes you in further, the air around you getting hotter even though neither of you have touched the faucet. He wedges a knee between yours, nudging your legs open a bit as he watches you look up at him with the innocent eyes you loved to tease him with.

“What are you doing?” You whisper to his lips, taking your bottom one between your teeth.

“Whatever you’d like,” He sighs, kissing you once, taking a hand off the wall to push your hair out of your eyes, “Just tell me when I can go.” He smirks, dragging two fingers down your cheek before grasping beneath your chin to give you a rougher kiss. A gentle sound escapes you as he parts from your lips, and he smirks again.

“Go, please, go,” You say quietly with your eyes on him, watching how with just three simple words you’ve evoked the devil. Something always came over him in these moments, a desire so incredible it could split him in two if he wasn’t satisfied. 

Skin on skin, you take a deep breath and feel the heat stirring deep within you. You want to close your legs, squeeze your thighs together to try to satisfy the ache that was growing, but Eddie’s knee kept them apart, and he started to smile once he felt your knees buckle.

“How am I playing this?” He asks patiently under his breath, dragging a finger up and down the side of your bare body, pausing at your hip everytime to draw a couple circles on your pelvis. Swallowing hard, you shake your head a bit.

“Don’t care,” You nearly whimper, jutting your hips forward into where he met yours, searching for something, anything to create friction. His fingers were stopped at your hip, inches away from where you needed him to be, he knew it, but he was having entirely too much fun watching you fall apart in front of him. He pinches the soft skin on your hip gently, and your knees buckle once more making him laugh under his breath.

“You needy bitch,” His voice is deep, a tone that doesn’t match the smile of glee he wore, “I just fucked you good yesterday, you already need me again?” The hand at your hip slips up between your bodies where he grips one of your breasts, dragging his thumb across your nipple, another tiny touch that has your hips grinding forward. Leaning your head back on the tile, you look up into Eddie’s eyes and take a deep breath.

“I need it,” You whisper, sliding your hands into his hair, “Please, baby,” You peck his lips and pout, “Need you, now.” Your hips grind against nothing, intoxicating Eddie further.

“Fuck, I love it when your a little slut,” He mumbles, and you bite your lip and smile.

“Eddie,” You say, and he nods, entranced by your eyes, “I need… something, anything, please.” You sigh heavily, and without wasting a second his hands slips between your thighs, his thorough guitar fingers knowing exactly what to do. Circling your sweet spot a couple of times, he then strums a delicate chord before slipping two fingers inside of you that rips a moan from your throat, his favorite song.

“I know, babe,” His voice is deep as he speaks to you over your whimpers, “Oh, I know.” Clinging to his body desperately, your hips grind on his ringless fingers that have the freedom to slide completely in and out, something he partook in, slipping them out in a scissor like motion. It drove him wild how tight your grip was around him, even the way your muscles tensed in your legs, it showed him how much control he really had of you when you were like this.

Slipping his other hand in the mix, he drew circles over your swollen clit before dancing his fingers in the pattern you were a sucker for.

“Eddie!” You gasp, looking up at him, and the sight you're met with sparks the incoming of your release. He’s completely zoned in to you, focused on you, but he’s wearing a smile so wicked you can tell he’s having just as much fun as you are. In fact, he was completely getting off on this.

“You gonna cum?” He raises an eyebrow. You moan in response and he chuckles, “C’mon, I love feeling you cum on my fingers,” He groans leaning into your neck to suck on the skin beneath your ear. Moving both of his hands faster, your sounds heighten to his pleasure.

“Gonna… Gonna…” You pant, digging your nails into his shoulders, feeling the wave build stronger, and stronger with each stroke of his fingers. Eddie sighs, kissing at the spot on your neck that usually gets you, fast. He needed to be inside of you five minutes ago.

“Look at you,” He says, deciding words were what was going to help him win, “So desperate to get off, you really are a slut aren’t you?” 

“Mhm,” You hum, bucking your hips faster, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your head lull back on the tile again. The coil was ready to snap.

“Can’t even say a word to me can you?” Eddie laughs, brushing his nose on yours, “You really this fucked out over my fingers? I’m not even wearing the rings, baby, you know what that really makes you? My, little, fucking, slut.” 

You're tipped over the edge, Eddie’s words sending your mind into a tizzy, and your body into an incredible high. His parted lips meet yours, muffling the sounds coming out of you. Feeling you tighten around his fingers, he pumps into you two more times to ride out your high with you, then slips them out to your disappointment.

“Holy, shit, fuck,” You sigh, catching your breath, sliding your hands back into his curls. Eddie smiles down at you, then brings his hands up between you and dips the fingers he just had inside of you, into his mouth. Feeling the arousal stir within you again, Eddie pulls them out slowly with a pop, and glances to your lips. 

“Open,” He coerces with his other hand, holding underneath your jaw. Following his order, you comply and open your mouth, moaning as he slips those two fingers on your tongue. “Suck,” He whispers, eyes on your lips. A groan leaves him as you do as you're told, and his fingers slide out of your pursed lips.

“Turn around,” He mutters, quickly grabbing your waist to spin you to face the wall, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

Placing your hands on the tile, you glance over your shoulder at Eddie whose focus is between your legs. Nudging yours open further, he wraps a hand around your waist and holds your hips on his. He leans into you, kissing your cheek gently.

“Y’okay?” He whispers.

“Never better,” You smile, and he’s quick to kiss your lips while he uses his hand to arch your back so he could slip inside of you. You both part from the kiss with a heavy exhale, groaning in absolute euphoria.

“So perfect,” Eddie says under his breath, sliding the hand that’s around your waist up your front, using the other to grip your hip, keeping you comfortably locked in front of him. 

For a couple of minutes things are sweet, and ethereal. Your bodies move in sync, knowing each other so well this way that it’s all entirely too effortless. There’s little to no words spoken between your shared heavy breaths and soft sounds egging each other on. Eddie’s lips brush along the stretch of your neck where he’s pulled your hair back. He listens to you, and though he’s moments from bursting, he follows your lead.

“More,” You say after reveling in the gentleness, and he sighs, gripping you tighter.

“‘Course, babe,” He mumbles into your hair, looking down to where your bodies meet and groans as his thrusts get faster, and harder, making your head fall back onto his chest. With closed eyes you sing out his name for him, and reach a hand back to grab onto anything that was his. Finding his hair, you tangle your fingers around the curls and pull, hard, sighing as you listen to him shamelessly babble endless profanities into the air.

Letting your body fall limp on his, you rock against him with each insatiable snap of his hips that were getting faster by the minute. Snaking the hand that was squeezing the skin on your hip he loved so dearly up your front, he watches your upside down expression, drunk on him, and drags his thumb across your parted bottom lip. Opening your eyes, you look into his and feel the tumultuous high spark below.

Eddie, with a relentless pace, pops his thumb between your teeth and presses on your tongue, his own jaw hanging open. A glimmer of mischief hints in your eyes to his intrigue. With the roughest tug of his hair, you bite down on his thumb without remorse and moan happily along with the disgustingly erotic noise that left his lips.

Collapsing on top of you, Eddie doesn’t hold back, your ministrations have flipped a switch. He’s gone absolutely feral in the best way, and the more you intentionally hurt him, the longer he stays like this.

Amidst the chaos you were ensuing, your high hits you unexpectedly, Eddie eating it up, feeling you squeeze him tight.

“Good girl, holy fuck,” He nearly growls, his head bobbing on yours as your fingers tear at his hair. With you now overcome by overstimulation, the pain you're inflicting on him is unapologetically stronger, and you're absolutely losing him. It takes three more ungodly snaps of his hips before he’s spilling into you, his body tensing for a couple of seconds.

The comedown lasts about a minute, both of you sucking down deep breaths like it’s your religion. You relax, letting his hair go, and his thumb from between your teeth. He holds it up for you to see, and you both laugh at how deep the marks were. Eddie presses a kiss to your temple, your head still laid on his chest, and runs both his hands down your sides to hold your hips.

“Ah, fuck,” He mutters, glancing down between your bodies where he leaves you and sighs. Turning around to face him underneath the water that was now getting cold, you knit your brows together and look up at his slight concern.

“What?” You ask, softly sliding your hands over his shoulders. Eddie presses his lips together and nods sheepishly.

“I… forgot…” He stutters, “Fuck,” He whispers, shaking his head seemingly embarrassed, “I didn’t pull out,” He narrows his eyes at you, “I’m sorry. I’m not used to not wearing a-”

“S’okay,” You assure him, nodding your head, pressing your forehead to his, “Promise. It’s okay.” Your words relax him, but only a little. Kissing him softly, you hope he doesn’t let this fester for too long, but you know how much he despised doing something without your consent first.

“It’ll be fine,” You say once more before reaching over for the faucet, turning the shower off, “Now can we please get out of here, I am freezing.” Eddie agrees, and once the water is off he pulls the curtain open and steps out, grabbing towels for both of you. Wrapping his around his waist, letting it hang low, he eyes your body as you dry off and he smiles.

“I wonder if Max is okay…” You start to say, but let your voice trail off as you meet Eddie’s eyes. His gaze is unforgiving. Hungry eyes that never missed a chance to catch a glimpse of your bare skin. Holding the towel in front of you, you blush and tilt your head to the side. Eddie’s face twists, and he takes a big step to stand in front of you, making you drop the towel.

“No, no,” He chuckles, “Don’t cover this up,” One of his hands points at you, head to toe, “We’re sleeping like this.” Your eyes go wide.

“Eddie, it’s March, it’s freezing!” You laugh, and he smirks.

“I’ll keep you warm,” His voice drops a couple octaves, “C’mon, how many chances do we get to do this?” Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath. He was right.

“Okay,” You start to smile. He pumps both his fists at his side, and scoops you up into his arms, carrying you right into the bedroom you scrambled into right before getting tangled up in Eddie.

Waking up in the serenity of absolute peace and quiet, you shift to peek behind you at Eddie who has a hand thrown over your waist beneath the sheets, his other tucked under his head on the pillow where he laid on his elbow. He seemed so content. When he was asleep it was the calmest you’ve ever seen him. No fidgets, no outbursts… just pouty lips and squished cheeks on whatever he was nuzzled against. His entire expression was relaxed, a hint that he was finally getting some well needed sleep.

The sun was shining into the bedroom through the shades that mimicked a sideways white picket fence. Sitting up, the sheet slips off of you and a chill from the cool air runs over you, goosebumps erupting over your bare skin. Not wanting to wake Eddie, you try to gently slide his arm off of you, and roll out of bed carefully. With successful execution, you pull the sheet over him, after admiring his tattoos for a second, and turn to search for your clothes that littered the floor.

Tip toeing around the hardwood, hoping it wouldn’t creak, you step over a condom wrapper, some old cigarette filters from who knows when, and the other half a joint Eddie had rolled last night before you got lost between the sheets. Bending down to pick it up along with your shirt you found, you put it on the cluttered nightstand beside Eddie, knowing he’d want it after he woke up.

Once you were fully clothed, you started to look for your socks that ended up somewhere, hopefully not in the void, and as you leaned over to look under the bed, Eddie moved above you on the mattress.

“Hey,” He called out, his morning voice deep, and raspy, “Don’t tell me you left,” He sounded disappointed, his hand reaching out beside him to drag along the sheets.

“Didn’t leave,” You say sweetly, popping up off of the floor with socks in hand. Eddie sits up on his elbows, checking out your appearance with furrowed brows.

“But you’re about to?” He half-questions. Smiling at the pout he wore, you lean against the foot of the bed.

“Want a smoke?” You ask, and chuckle as he starts to smile.

“Yeah,” He says quietly.

“Yeah?” You egg on, nodding.

“Come kiss me first,” He says, keeping his eyes on you as you round the side of the bed, collapsing on it by his side. Holding his cheek, you press your lips to his three times, the third time leaving him hanging for more. “No, don’t go,” He whines as you stand up, falling back on the pillows, his curls fluffy and messy.

“Nicotine,” You declare, “Cigarette and me, or just me?” He stretches his arms above his head, groaning as he rolled to the side and sat up on his knees.

“Cigarette and you,” He mumbles, looking at you with his big, brown eyes. You lean in to kiss him one more time, short and sweet, and smile.

“That’s what I thought,” You say, and turn toward the door.

“Hey, be careful,” He says, his tone shifting to something that was wrapped around worry, “Please? Be quick. Go right there and come back.” Pausing in the doorway, you look back at him and smile again.

“Promise,” You say, and he holds up a pinky, “Go back to sleep,” You giggle, and watch him fall back onto the mattress dramatically for the third time.

Surely Hawkins during the day wouldn’t be as frightening as the nighttime, which you were learning was something to be afraid of. It was the time of day you used to love in this shallow town before it turned unpredictable. You would get lost in the nighttime, but now, you could literally get lost… in the nighttime. 

Making it your mission to stay as hidden as possible as you venture into town, you think about what would happen if you swung by your home. You’ve been away for three days now, the longest you’ve gone without your parents knowing where you were. Just yesterday while out with Nancy and Robin you were exposed to Hawkins, but without a Tina and Neil sighting. If they were to find you, it would be more unpredictable than Hawkins as to what they’d do.

You imagine Tina would latch onto you theatrically, sobbing as she shoved you into the backseat of the station wagon, or cause a scene on the street as she begged you to come back home- but that seemed a bit far out. Maybe there was a chance they were happy you were gone, maybe they weren’t looking for you at all. They were left with Jeffrey and Marshall, their golden children, to live happily ever after in their nuclear home. It could be their second chance to not screw up the rest of their children before they got into high school where that apparently became more important than anything else.

Jeffrey and Marshall would grow up without your bad influence you’ve recently heard about. The twins would go off to be successful, and well valued in a small town designed to keep them trapped with their parents who they will inevitably turn into.

The last memory you have with both of them that was somewhat joyful was this past Christmas, in ‘85. Marshall, the softer of the two, woke you up early in the morning before your parents. Jeffrey was behind him in your doorway, both of them dressed in matching red flannel pajamas. Marshall asked you to come with them downstairs, and you obliged after tears threatened his eyes that matched your mothers. 

You led them down the steps quietly, the sun was just about to rise, which meant you had a good hour before your parents woke up. When the three of you step into the living room and spot the Christmas tree with presents underneath it, the boys each grab one of your hands and yank you toward it, jumping up and down. They started to whisper in excitement to you, telling you that their Optimus Prime action figure had to be here amongst the flood of tacky wrapping paper.

It didn’t take much convincing, their smiles, Jeffrey with braces, were enough to send the three of you diving into the piles, shaking every box to find their Optimus Prime’s. Whenever one of you found one that sounded like it could be a chunk of plastic, you encouraged them to tear it open, and you’d all laugh if it wasn’t the toy. It took ten presents before you found them both, the boys ripping the cardboard of the boxes to get the blue and red robot looking thing out to play with.

When the twins ran away to search for batteries, your parents came down the stairs, Tina was wrapping her robe around her body, wearing curlers in her hair. The first thing they saw was you sitting in front of the tree surrounded by wrapping paper and open presents. They couldn’t get a word out, they were shocked. Then, Jeffrey and Marshall came tumbling back into the living room, with Optimus Prime in their hands, and smiles on their faces that were quickly wiped away at the sight of Tina and Neil. You jumped in and took the blame, realizing that the boys were about to be the ones to get the boot there. It ended the same as every other predicament. The boys were off scott-free, and you were grounded for a couple of days with another tally on your parents shitlist.

You believe there’s a part of the twins that misses you, and the urge to go back home is fueled by them, and them only. They were watching the TV that morning, they saw what happened to Chrissy, they knew it was at Eddie’s. You didn’t want them thinking that you were dead, but you also couldn’t risk being seen. Hiding away with Eddie for this long now put him at risk if you were pulled into any sort of questioning.

Shoving your hands in the pockets of your jacket, you pull it around you tighter as buildings come into view. Your feet hit pavement instead of dirt, and the first glimpse of human activity is spotted. Deciding to stick to the outskirts of Hawkins instead of going in too far toward the heart, you step inside a corner drug store that you’ve been in with Eddie before- a necessary stop before you would hit up Rick’s.

There’s a tall, older, bald man behind the counter with scruffy facial hair and skin nearly blacked out in tattoos. He’s reading a newspaper, and looks up as the door jingles shut behind you. The store is small, a couple of shelves lined the wall, but most of the merchandise is behind the counter. With a glimpse at you, the scruffy man smiles, slapping his paper down on the linoleum. 

“Hey, John,” You return the smile, stepping up to the counter confidently.

“How the hell are ya?” He huffs a laugh behind his equally scruffy tone of voice. Shrugging your shoulders, you shake your head.

“Trying to get through it,” You say, and he bumps his fist a couple of times on top of the newspaper.

“Kid, this town has gone to shit,” John says matter-of-factly, “I told you and Eddie it was coming, didn’t I?” You nod along with him, listening to him go off about how terribly the police were handling the issues at hand, siding with you, mentioning how he’s got a good feeling that Eddie isn’t the suspect they should be searching for. Your eyes travel from John’s face to the wall of cartons of cigarettes behind him. John stops his rant once he realizes he’s lost you, then peers over his shoulder and chuckles.

“Shit, kid, I got you,” He says, and pulls out two packs he knows you and Eddie always buy from him. Setting them down in front of you, he smiles at you and gestures for you to take them. Clearing your throat, you take a deep breath and look up at him.

“John, I… I’m sorry, I don’t have any money right now, I just came from… Came from, y’know…” You start to point behind you, rambling away, unable to say the words. John waves his hand, placing his other to his chest.

“Whoa, whoa,” He begins, leaning on the counter to level with you, “I don’t care where you came from, who you were with…” He eyes you cheekily, “Or what you were out doing, it’s just nice to know that you’re safe, standing here in front of me, and you don’t seem too upset, so I’m assuming someone else is safe right now, too,” You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off again, “Nope, I don’t need an answer, in fact, you probably shouldn’t say anything else. Take these, and this,” He reaches for a lighter, tossing it next to the cigarettes, “And go back where you came from.”

A moment is shared between you and John, a sweet one. This man, who you’ve only seen behind the counter in his store, had a way of making you feel safe. He easily validated you whenever you came around, and he was excellent at giving advice, telling you and Eddie that he’s been through more than either of you could imagine. At this point, that probably isn’t true anymore, you both may have him beat.

“Thank you,” You mouth inaudibly, making him laugh.

“Anytime, kid, keep doing what you’re doing, this’ll blow over,” He waves to you after you grab your things, and turn for the door.

As you’re about to push it open, the view outside stops you in your tracks. Across the street Tina is walking with the twins, all three of them carrying a stack of papers. Your mothers hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and she isn’t wearing any make up. She’s dressed in clothes she’d wear to work out in, something she wouldn’t be caught dead in in public, and the boys were wearing their usual matching t-shirts. Marshall was clinging to one of her hands, and it looked as though Jeffrey was leading them around, holding a box of something under the papers. They paused at a post on the corner, Tina encouraging Marshall to hold up a sheet of paper on the wood while Jeffrey got a thumbtack out of the box to pin it in place. Then, they took a step back, Jeffrey nodding proudly at their work.

Your heart stings watching them look so distraught, though it seemed like Jeffrey was taking one for the team and playing the role of the big guy. You wonder if Neil was at work, and if he even cared that you’ve been gone. He was good friends with Chief Powell, so he was probably holed up at the police station feeding their belief that Eddie is a murderous terror.

“You alright?” John asks tentatively. Jeffrey begins to lead your mother and brother across the street, right towards the store you were standing in.

“John, oh-my-god,” You back away from the door, and hurry behind the counter with him, crouching underneath it, tucking your legs as close to your chest as you could, “I’m not here, I’m not here, please, John, I’m not here.”

“Okay, okay,” He whispers, lifting his newspaper to flick through it again nonchalantly. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, and your hands start to feel tingly. Closing your eyes, you take slow deep breaths, ones that you can hear Eddie coaching you through.

The door jingles, and John looks up at your mother and brothers with a small smile, one not as inviting as he gave you.

“Hello,” He says jauntily, “How can I help you?” 

“Hi,” You hear Jeffrey say, “Me and my family are hanging up these posters in the town,” A shuffle can be heard on the counter, you assume he put down the stack of papers he was holding.

“Oh,” John intrigues, playing his part.

“We were hoping we could hang one up in here, just in case anybody comes in and sees it,” Jeffrey says. You see John look past Jeffrey, possibly to your mother.

“You’ve got a confident young man here,” He says.

“Thank you,” Your mothers voice is broken, stabbing you directly in the gut, “My daughter’s been missing for three days, she, she ran off, and with all that’s been happening we hope… We hope she’s okay. Her brothers here, they miss her terribly. I can’t even begin to tell you what we’ve been going through everyday.” John nods his head, glancing at you momentarily, seeing that you’ve covered your face with your hands. A lump sat in your throat, one that was telling you that you were about to cry. Trying to swallow it down, you let a tear escape.

“If we hang up a sign in here, there’s a greater chance of us finding her,” Marshall's soft voice speaks up, making more tears fall. The timider of the twins would let Jeffrey do all of the talking to strangers in situations unknown.

“Sure, you can hang one up, there’s already a couple over there,” John points to the wall to the left of the door. Scuffling of feet can be heard after a few mumbled ‘thank yous’. John looks down at you, and taps your foot with his. Glancing up to the tall man, he smiles and holds up a finger to let you know that they were still in the building.

“Mom, look, Eddie’s up here,” Jeffrey says, and your stomach churns.

“Yes he is,” Tina sighs, “Can only imagine where he ended up.”

“Do you think she’s with him?” Marshall asks.

“Here, take the tack,” Tina says, giving the boys direction, “I don’t know, Marsh. That’s where she was headed that morning, I know it, but there’s nothing in that trailer park except his uncle, and we’ve already tried talking to him.”

“Right,” Marshall agrees.

“He told us, boys,” She says, and you start to bite at the skin around your fingernails, “He hasn’t seen either of them, not even when she ran that way, and I know, I know, she was going there.”

“Is he a bad guy, Mom?” Marshall asks, and your mother doesn’t answer right away, instead she waits a couple of seconds.

“I hope not,” She finally says, “I really, really, hope not.”

“But Dad has said that he is,” Jeffrey tried to defend, and you can feel an anger stir within you, “He always told us to stay away from him.”

“You can’t always listen to your father, Jeffrey,” Your mother says surprisingly, “He’s not as smart as you think.” 

“Dad is smart,” Marshall says quickly, and Tina laughs.

“We’ll talk about this later, let’s focus on finding your sister,” She says, and you can hear them walk toward the door.

“If she is with Eddie, I bet he is protecting her,” Marshall says, “He always seems scary, so that must mean he protects her from the bad things, right?” Again, your mother is hesitant, you hope she’s taking the thirteen year olds words into consideration.

“Sure, Marsh,” She says quietly, “Let’s hope you’re right. Thank you, sir.” Tina says to John who gives them a wave.

“Thank you!” The twins say in unison, and the door jingles shut.

Propping his elbow on the counter, John looks down at you, scooting to the side a little so you could stand up out of your hiding spot. He gives you a hand to help you up and the same smile that hasn’t changed since meeting your family.

“They seem nice,” He says.

“Yeah,” You nod, “Unfortunately, I think they are.” You glance to the wall where they hung your photo up, walking out from behind the counter to get a closer look. They used a photo of you from last summer, your hair a little bit longer than it was now. You were wearing a purple tank top and black denim shorts, not that anyone could tell because the picture was in black and white, and on your shoulder was a small heart that Eddie had drawn on you in permanent marker. The first tattoo you wanted, one you were waiting to move out to get.

Eddie’s photo was beside yours, the boys hanging them up next to each other, which seemed oddly sweet. His picture was cute, it made you smile. He had such a serious look on his face, the picture seemed nothing like how you knew him. This had to have been taken by Uncle Wayne recently, for something, because there’s no way Eddie would look that ticked off for just anyone. He was wearing his Dio shirt, the one he favored over others, the one he rarely even let you wear.

“Wish I could, like, take a picture of this,” You point with both hands at both your missing persons papers, glancing over your shoulder at John who was looking at his paper again. He laughs, shaking his head. “Was I wrong for hiding?” You ask, letting your eyes flicker back and forth between your photos. You hear John put down the paper.

“Maybe,” He says, and you turn around with wide eyes, shocked that he wasn’t taking your side, “Listen, you’ve got a family that’s worried about you. I know it’s hot right now, and that kid is a wanted man, but you should’ve seen the look on your mama’s face,” His expression softens to one you’ve never seen him wear before, “You should tell her you’re okay.”

“She’ll trap me, John,” You say, stepping in front of the counter with a fire in your veins, “She’s not gonna let me stay with Eddie, she’ll lock me in my room! And my dad? Oh, man, my dad will NOT hesitate to throw him behind bars, he was ready to when he first met him. They don’t even know that we’re together, John, that’s how much of a secret I try to keep him, ‘cause I know that if they get their… perfectly, manicured, hands on him, they’ll throw him away.” John diverts his eyes momentarily, studying his paper before he nods.

“This town wants to throw him away, that I know,” He says carefully, “I know you’re revved up right now, but watch what you say,” His tone is gentle, you nod, “You’re in love, I get it. I see the way you two stroll on up in here, you’re handsy and teasing each other, and, yeah, I see the way he looks at you, but… If your mama is making posters for you, and walking around town, all the way out here, to hang ‘em up? I know she’s a lady who doesn’t like to be seen like that, believe me. She cares.”

“Believe me, she cares,” You mutter in a mocking voice, taking your time to get back to Eddie at Ricks. You’re nearly there with the conversation with John on replay in your head. “John, you’re right about one thing, she is a woman who does not want to be seen looking like that!” You let out a single laugh, stepping over a branch that had fallen on the side of the dirt road.

Turning onto the driveway of Ricks, you hurry around the house and up the backstairs, shutting the door with might.

“I’m back, Princess,” You tease, calling out to Eddie. A few seconds go by before he pops his head over the railing on the stairs with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey,” He spats, “Watch yo’ mouth.” He’s fully dressed when he trots down the stairs, jumping off the third one from the bottom to land on the floor on his feet. Smiling at you, he tilts his head to give you a kiss and takes one of the packs of cigarettes you were holding out in your hand.

“This is cute,” He says, sitting down in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. Placing a cigarette between your lips you light it, then slide the lighter across the wood to Eddie.

“What is?” You say sitting down as you blow the smoke out in a thin line, feeling a wave of utter relaxation wash over you. You watch as Eddie lights his own, kicking his feet up on the table. He takes a long drag and groans, letting it all out at once, dropping his head backward.

“Ahh, maaay, zing,” He dramaticized, looking back up at you, “Us living here together,” He continues his previous statement, “It’s cute.” He spins the filter between his fingers, watching the cherry closely before he looks back over to you.

“We’re not living here, Eddie, we’re hiding here,” You smize, raising an eyebrow. You both take an equally long drag from your cigarettes, seeing who would tap out first, and of course, Eddie won. You blow out the smoke with a cough and a laugh. “You getting ideas?” You ask quietly, looking down at your feet. Eddie hasn’t looked away from you.

“I think I am,” He says, smiling softly to you when you turn your chin up to meet his eyes. You try to return it, and your pathetic attempt has him slapping his feet to the floor, and sitting forward in his chair to study you. “What happened?” He questions, and you roll your eyes, “Don’t give me that, what the hell happened?”

“I saw…” You start, but feel your chest tighten. Eddie lifts both his hands by his side, his eyes going wide as he waits for you to finish that sentence. He’s moments away from lunging for his walkie to get in touch with Dustin.

“Clocks?” He asks rather loudly. You shake your head. “Vecna? Big clocks? Babe, come on.”

“My mom,” You sigh heavily, “My actual mom, with Jeffrey and Marshall. They came into John's store, and I hid.  Eddie, there’s posters being hung up,” He relaxes, resting his arms on the table. Taking a drag of your cigarette, you shake your head, “Posters of you, posters of me… And John said I should talk to her, tell her I’m okay, because he says she cares.” Eddie’s eyes fall to the table in front of him, his stare going blank. This was a thought he had the very first day you came to find him. Your parents were always in the back of his mind, and as much as he hated it, he actually agreed with John.

“You should,” He mutters. You freeze, looking at him in disbelief.

“What?” Your face has gone stone cold.

“You should tell them you’re okay,” He’s almost whispering, and still staring at the kitchen table, “Please? As much as I love giving them hell, this would be taking it too far, you and I both know that,” His eyes flicker up at you, big, brown and full of remorse, “Don’t make me the reason you only see your mom every other Christmas.” 

“Eddie,” You whisper, remembering what you’ve told him about your grandmother. The two of you sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute, neither of you moving, letting the cigarettes burn to the filter. 

“Been in touch with Dustin?” You offer, hoping to shift the room's energy back to where it had been early morning. Eddie jabs the filter into an ashtray on the table without his eyes leaving yours.

“No, and please, don’t change the subject,” He says, still speaking quietly, “You always avoid this, can we figure something out?” You break the gaze, looking at the ashtray and copying what he had done. You paint your lips into a frown, the guilt you felt for running away from your parents was manifesting as bitterness toward them.

“I don’t want to figure something out,” You blurt out, snapping your neck to look back at him, “I want to stay right here, with you.”

“We can’t do this forever, you said it yourself, we’re hiding here,” Eddie finally raises his tone, “I’m wanted for a murder, one that is going to take way too long to prove that I didn’t do,” His bitterness was rising just as yours was, “You’re always running away from them whether you think you are or not, do you realize that? We can’t run away from them forever.” 

“Is this happening right now,” You say, starting to smile. You sit up completely straight and glance around the room before looking at Eddie whose saddened expression hasn’t faltered. “What’s my name?” You ask him, and he says it to you.

“What are you doing?” He asks, seeming exhausted. Standing up, you move around the table to touch his shoulder.

“Making sure I’m not having one of those things again, ‘cause this was what it was like, somebody telling me how I’m living my own life,” Your words make him cringe. He exhales before he reaches for your arms, tugging you closer to him. Guiding you to sit down on his lap, he wraps his arms around your body, engulfing you in a hug before he relaxes backward, letting you lay on his chest. Kissing your forehead, he sighs.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, “I don’t want to tell you how you’re living your own life, I just want to help.” His chest vibrates on your ear as he speaks.

“I know,” You say, “I’m just too afraid of it all right now,” He nods, lifting a hand to hold the back of your head, “I’m scared. I’m scared of what’s going to happen to you.”

“Yeah,” He scoffs, “Me too.”

-

tags :) thanks for reading! <3 you guys are amazing.

~ @callie-bear15 @smol-book-nerd @bestieimmentallyill ~

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #nervous #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson smut #joe quinn #hellfire club #hellraiser #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie #dustin #nancy #stranger things smut

[michaelmilligan]

Midam Week Day 7: To err is human, to forgive divine

“Family?” the detective asked, his hair creaking as he leaned back in it. “You know, parents, siblings, that sort of thing?”

The guy sitting opposite him – Michael, according to the official documents – smiled for the briefest moment. “I do indeed have a family, detective. A single father, three siblings and, well... a lot of cousins, I suppose.”

He shrugged, the motion almost too fluid to be human.

Adam shook his head. They didn't know yet what the guy was. Whether he was a guy or not. So he shouldn't have been over-interpreting things like his body language. It was so easy to go totally wrong with that.

“Tell me about your siblings, then,” the detective said, sounding bored. Maybe he was – this was the third interrogation this year that Adam had been asked in for, so it had probably been more than that for the detective.

There were other doctors who could carry out the Voight-Kampff test, after all. Not a lot of people could operate the machine and interpret its readings, but there were still some experts. At this point, some of the police officers might have been able to, though they were legally obligated to bring in medical personnel for these tests.

If they didn't and they shot someone... Well, Adam supposed that if the body oozed metallic liquid, no one would shed a tear. But just in case the assessment was wrong, and it was a human, the police would be able to say that they had done everything they could.

Adam shuddered, and looked back at Michael. Then he jumped when Michael raised his eyes to him.

He shouldn't be able to see him through the one-way window, Adam thought, the hair on his arms standing on end. No, it must have been coincidence, Michael looking somewhere over the detective's shoulder to think.

But Michael was still looking at him, and a slight smile crept onto his face as the detective finished his latest question.

“Friends, yes,” Michael said, focusing back on the detective. “I must admit, my work leaves me little time to make any. Though I do get drinks with some of my co-workers every now and then. Zachariah is always pestering me about it.”

“And Zachariah is...” The detective left the rest of the sentence open.

Michael quirked an eyebrow. “One of those co-workers. He's always eager to draw the higher-ups into his little events.”

“To curry favour?” the detective asked, still sounding bored.

Michael shrugged. “Maybe. Or just for the attention, who knows. I don't really understand how people like him think.”

That was a risky admission, that he didn't understand people, or at least some of them. It could have pointed to him being human himself, and not concerned with beating any allegations of being a replicant. Though then again, people were rarely this calm when they were being interrogated. So he might just be a replicant using reverse psychology or some shit.

Adam told himself that he didn't know. The fact that his assessments from watching people had always been the same as that of the machine was just coincidence.

Besides, it wasn't like he had a real opinion. This guy confused him too much.

Adam didn't think that he was a replicant. But he also didn't think that he was a human.

And being neither was impossible.

“Memories?” Michael sounded almost surprised at this next question, and then hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I remember my father... Back when it was just him and me. He was building something... The place where we would live, I suppose. I still live there, though he moved away some time ago...”

Michael looked to the side, seeming so genuinely sad that Adam's heart constricted. Without meaning to, he put a hand over his chest. The pain wasn't fading, though, he thought with sudden terror. It made him bend over, dark spots start appearing in his vision-

And then it suddenly stopped. He could breathe normally again, with no pain in his chest, and nothing to remind him that there had ever been any pain. Adam breathed deeply through his nose a few times and then looked back up at the interrogation.

Michael was looking at him again. His eyes were an unnaturally light blue.

That was, until the glow faded, and Michael's eyes were dark again. From this distance, Adam couldn't really make out their colour, but he would have bet that they weren't blue.

Brown, maybe. Adam could have imagined him having brown eyes.

Michael was still looking at him.

The interrogation ended shortly after that, though. It was odd, because the detective ended it, which he wasn't supposed to do. When he stomped into the backroom, Adam frowned at him.

“What's wrong?” he asked, at which the detective huffed.

“You tell me. Did you fall asleep back here or something?”

“What do you mean?” Adam looked down at the machine, thinking that he had overlooked something, that it had already come to a conclusive answer. But no.

“We went through all the fucking questions,” the detective said, pushing a tablet in his face.

Adam blinked at it. When he scrolled through the list, he saw that all questions were marked as completed. But it couldn't have been that long...

He looked at the time. Three hours. It had been just under three hours since they had started the interrogation.

“But that can't be.” Adam turned back to the machine. It should have figured out if Michael was human or not based on his respiration, heart rate and similar bodily reactions. The personal questions should have either triggered those reactions or not.

But the readings were still inconclusive.

In the interrogation room, Michael was looking towards the door, a bored expression on his face. But almost as if he felt Adam's eyes on him, he turned his head – and looked straight at him.

“Got room for one more?”

Adam jumped at the voice and whirled around, his sneakers splashing up water that soaked into his socks. Michael tipped his umbrella to let it cover him too.

“What are you doing here?” Adam asked, before he realised that Michael couldn't know him. He couldn't actually have seen him in the backroom, couldn't actually know that he existed.

The door to the taxi shut closed, and it drove off, two people clinging to each other inside, preparing for their new lives in a new city.

“Ah, they're gone,” Michael said, as if he'd just wanted to take the taxi. “Oh, well.”

Adam studied his face, which didn't betray any ulterior motives, or anything else, for that matter. It had been months since he had seen Michael's face in person, but he had seen it in his dreams, with this same strange half-smile that he wore now.

“I must say, it's kind of stupid of you to help them,” Michael said, his face turned towards a screen with an ad for blue pills.

Adam froze. “What?” he croaked.

“One of those two was a replicant.” It wasn't a question. Adam couldn't breathe. “You're risking your position – and potentially your life – for machines. Why?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Adam pressed out. He turned away.

Michael caught his arm before he could step out from under the umbrella.

“Don't get me wrong. I'm not with the police, and I'm not trying to blackmail you,” Michael said calmly, his grip gentle but still iron-clad around Adam's forearm.

Something appeared to Adam. “Are you a replicant?”

Michael laughed. It didn't sound like a machine, but then, neither did Ceasar.

He and Jesse would be fine as long as they stayed out of trouble.

That was, as long as no one suspected what Cesar was.

“If I was a replicant, would you have told them? For the quota?” Michael asked, still sounding amused.

Adam froze again. How could he know-

“You manipulate the machine so it shows that someone is human when they're not. Except for two months ago – I suppose Abner was too obvious. An old model. You couldn't get away with manipulating the machine that much, and anyway, every now and then you need to find a replicant, or else people might get suspicious.”

Adam was shivering. He still remembered the man's- replicant's eyes, blown so wide with fear. They hadn't even done him the basic courtesy of making him turn his back, or anything like that. It had just been shot after shot at point blank, until his slightly too dark blood had covered the walls and the floor.

Somehow, Adam had made it back home, but he had been shaking and throwing up all night.

It wasn't an equal punishment for letting someone be killed. For helping to get him killed.

But Adam was too much of a coward to get his just retribution.

“You're the only one blaming yourself, Adam,” Michael said, his tone surprisingly serious.

Adam looked at him through the tears in his eyes. “He's dead because of me.”

“No. He's dead in spite of you. You couldn't help him. Not without risking so many more of them. Because if your manipulations had gotten out, they may have questioned all your previous assessments. And you wouldn't have been able to save others in the future, like Cesar.”

Adam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Tell that to Abner.”

Michael didn't reply. When Adam opened his eyes again, he was looking at him with something like boredom on his face.

“It's not Abner's choice what you're going to do next,” Michael said, and reached out again.

But instead of taking Adam's arm, he simply held out his hand.

“It's yours.”

Adam looked up from the hand to the unnaturally blue eyes. “Who are you?”

The slightest smile danced over Michael's lips. “Oh, Adam. That's the wrong question.” Michael let go of the umbrella, letting it carry away on a strong wind. Adam startled, not having noticed how heavy the rain had gotten, or how the wind was howling through the street.

But the impact Adam braced for never came. He didn't get wet, and the wind didn't tug on him. He stood as if in a bubble, Michael and him in the eye of the storm, completely unfazed.

“What are you?” Adam finally asked, and Michael smiled genuinely this time.

“Now, that is the beginning of a good question.” Mirth danced in Michael's eyes as he took Adam's hand. “Though we'd better start with what you are.”

Adam bristled. “I'm human,” he bellowed over the crackling thunder.

“Oh, yes. Quite. But you're also more than that. You must have noticed that you always knew the results of the tests before the machine did.”

“I still don't know about you,” Adam deflected.

Michael grinned, and with the backdrop of a wall of water, and flashes of lightning, he looked like a shark, ready to devour Adam. “That's because you think there are only two options. But when you tried to look into me, didn't you feel it? Couldn't you tell that I'm much more than this paltry vessel makes me seem?”

Vessel, Adam thought at another crack of thunder. What did he mean by-

A flash of lightning – and suddenly the sun came out.

Or, no- was that-

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE SO MUCH MORE, TOO? Michael asked, his voice like rumbling thunder, and his form bright and hot like the surface of sun. DON'T YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ABLE TO HELP EVERYONE ON THIS EARTH?

Adam looked at him, sure that his eyes should be burning out, his face melting, his mind bending beyond repair. But neither of those things happened – and he took a step forward.

“Yes,” he said, in the breathless, but confident voice of the believer. “Yes. Show me.”

#Yeah I took the Blade prompt and uh. Added Runner to it. #It's in no way canon-compliant ofc - to either franchise #Also I can't believe it's the last day 😭 #I hope some people post late #midamap2023 #Midam

[quietasfire]

honestly idk if this is the seedling of wwx haterism taking root in me but i genuinely hate how he treats wn (also, all roads lead to chengxian)

after mxy resurrection he just seems to brush wn off a lot while wn is out here doing the most. idk i know wwx refuses to confront anything because delusion is his solution to everything. and wn is a painful reminder of his yiling demonic cultivation days, just like jc is a painful reminder of wwx gutting himself to pay a debt that never was w/ his life's work. i understand why wwx would act that way (he tends to block everything out and pretend like its fine while his behavior shows that it is not fine bc lying only gets u so far) but it is truly one of his most insufferable traits. he wants an enabler that allows him to live without confronting himself or other people (lwj) but legit will he even be satisfied w that. is that even something thats sustainable in the long run.

mdzs canon is really weird to me because

1) wwx doesnt seem to want to deal with the world he lives in? wn is reduced to a weapon/thing once again bc lwj keeps taking precedent over him like the lwj drunk jealousy scenes piss me off so much, wn is literally being robbed of his agency and consciousness but that keeps being pushed back because uwu romance

2) hes not going to be satisfied that way. its just not in his nature to settle. ur telling me wwx is going to be happy in cloud recesses? while lwj may be a hypocrite and break his own sect's rules or even leave gusu lan to be a wandering cultivator w wwx, i genuinely dont see how that cld happen without wwx feeling guilty and bottling it up and ofc turning it to resentment

3) why didnt jc and wwx reconcile. legit why. wwx is saying lets just let it go but like. dude it is physically impossible for yall to be strangers. he let himself be gutted to save u and then u gutted urself to save him thats not a stranger thing. He has a major piece of you in him and he didnt even ask for it nor could he say yes to it. like girl i know you love running from your problems but eventually youre going to tire out?? What

4) he doesnt seem to change his ways, like his ego and impulsivity is still there? he didnt grow? like it rly feels as though the novel isnt even sure what story it wants to tell

pls so many things r so bizarre in this novel. the only part that makes sense is venerated triad and it proves mxtx CAN write irreparably broken relationships caused by a fundamental disagreement in nature (nmj hates jgy for who he is, jgy hates nmj for what he did, nmj would rather break than bend, jgy would rather bend than break) but thats not the case for chengxian??? so why is their relationship being treated as though its beyond salvation

idk i have a fever sorry

#crit i guess #even if i didnt like cx i still wld feel the same

[arkus-rhapsode]

Rambling about my anxieties about a potential FE4 Remake

So recently an interview with the developers of FE Engage had come out and it shed some interesting facts about the development like how it was meant for the 30th anniversary, it was being made at the same time as 3H and that the game was delayed for greater polish.

Now that might not seem at all extraordinary after all, if you were like me, the OG leaker for Engage basically said that all. But here’s the thing, not only is this behind the scenes look legitimizing more of the leaker’s insights, but that means there is an even higher potential of their claim that an FE4 remake is more believable. 

Now its no secret that FE Genealogy of the Holy War is one of the most anticipated Fire Emblems to receive a remake treatment like Echoes and why wouldn’t it be? After all, its still the most popular FE in Japan and is considered to be Kaga’s magnum opus and the best of the Famicom era FE. It was also never brought over to the West legally so this’ll be FE fans chances to see it in its full glory. Hell, Im excited as all hell to see FE4 remade on modern consoles, but then I sorta stopped and began to think about it for a bit. Namely, could an FE4 remake ever live up to the hype?

Now look, any old FE getting remade should happen. Especially those never officially translated. It gives others in the fandom the chance to experience the game with modern convince and not be scared off by emulation. But just for a moment I thought what a remade FE4 would even look like. 

Now Im sure anyone who played Echoes knows it is possibly one of the best produced FE’s ever. Its in game art was amazing, the sprites actually resembled people more than Awakening or Fates, fully voice acted, it was amazing. It was amazing by the standards of a 3DS. Its no secret FE has gone through a transitional period from the 3DS to the Switch. The flat 2D sprites are now 3D models and convos that took place on map painting backgrounds with character art laid onto of it, is now 3D models speaking in an open space. I think what every FE fan genuinely wants is for Fire Emblem to look the best it can on the console its on. Now Engage clearly has shown FE can look better than it ever has on switch, but it still leaves a lot to be desired. This is a console that’s 1st and 2nd parties can achieve visuals like breath of the wild, Kirby Lost World, and Xenoblade. So I don’t think its impossible to make pretty games on a switch. But FE and Insys really haven’t gone all the way to where is feels quite like its a next gen FE visually. And not to put all the blame on InSys, but I understand that even fans are split. Some will never be happy if we don’t get back to the old pixel art style and found it more visually appealing while others want to put the capabilities of FE on a home console. Any creative director is not gonna manage to appeal to both these sides and that’s honestly going to suck. 

Now, this isn’t just about graphics but lets also talk about mechanics. Its no doubt that FE4 has some legendary map design, as well as the precursor to the support system we have now. But it was a clearly unbalanced FE, cavalry has always been OP but this is the game where literally cavalry is the best. The map design is also pretty different. I know GBA era fans probably are used to the concept of an FE plot unfolding on a battlefield as opposed to more chapter long encounter then story cutscene as more modern FE, but if people forget, the maps in FE4 were huge with multiple narrative events occurring in a single map. So how do translate that? Do you get rid of the huge maps and make FE4 more like modern FE and break into smaller maps with cutscene driven stories? Engage has shown a willingness to use more cinematics than ever before, would that help moments like Sigurd’s father dying or the feeling of Quan arriving only to be ambushed? Personally, I don’t think so as moments like that make FE4 so remembered. The immersive moments of in real time plot elements playing out. Once again we arrive at some where I can’t really see how you’d do this without disappointing one end of the spectrum.

And then we have the support system. I feel pretty confident in saying that an FE4 remake will use the modernized FE support system. But as we’ve seen in Echoes, just because it may use the same system, doesn’t mean it’ll be like Awakening, Fates, or 3H level deep. Echoes support system was incredibly limited despite coming off of the more robust Fates. And As I’m sure you all recall, scaling back social sim elements are never really met with positivity like FE Engage walking back things from 3H. Im sure they’ll still let you pick who you end up with Seliph, after all he isn’t locked into an ending like Sigurd or Alm, but I am unsure if we’ll get the modernized support system we are so accused to getting retrofitted into an older game. 

Oh my god are they even going to do turn wheel?

Okay okay moving away from the gameplay portion, the last thing that worries the fact any remake of FE4 has to live up to a near monolithic reputation. FE4 is an FE that never made it the states and the only way to experience it forever was through emulation and a fan translation. This lack of availability that seemed to only be accessed by die hard FE fans willing to play the Famicom era games while also being told to other western fans that this is Japan’s favorite FE coupled with things that more modern fans would recognize like FE4 serving as the inspiration for a lot of 3H has essentially mythologized FE4 as “The Greatest Fire Emblem Game”. Now this is my personal opinion but FE4 isn’t my favorite FE, nor is it one I consider the best written, but it is certainly an operatic entry that goes beyond what FE had ever done up to the point with moments that deserve to be apart of FE history. And do you see what I’m getting at here? Any remake of FE4 has sky high expectations to clear. It was a meme forever that FF7 Remake was taking forever, but we all know that if it was nothing less than beyond perfect, then FF7R would never live up to the hype. FE4 is very likely going to be in that situation and Im not 100% sure InSys can deliver if that’s the case. 

Now look, maybe this is all just pointless lizard brain fear. I would love nothing more than to see and FE4 that flawlessly captured the spirt of the original while looking great, playing great, and living up to the bar of social simulation. I think that’s all any fan genuinely wants out of any FE game. But it just fills me with dread knowing the near herculean task the FE development team may be tasked with, and that even more fans who have never experienced FE4 are going to now have to see how “The Best FE” holds up to modern standards. 

The potential of this remake ever happening is still not set in hard stone as of the writing. So there really is no point worrying about something before it even has a chance to materialize. But I do believe that any FE4 remake will now be facing a lot of up hill battles and while I’m not using that to protect poor game design (If the game plays or looks like ass I will call it out) I do hope that people think about what an FE4 remake really does mean. 

#fire emblem #rambling #fire emblem genealogy of the holy war #fe4

[real-jane]

a gift

(druig x fem!reader)

summary: druig has settled in Ireland with a woman who brings him peace, but she doesn’t know what he can do.

words: 2028

a/n: first time writing for druig! I hope you enjoy. ❤️ based on the poem 'the gift' by czeslaw milosz (ft. at the end). part of a new one shot poetry series, masterlist to come.

poems and promises masterlist

—

The light is perfect, basking in the fog rolling off the ocean as the early sun peeks over the horizon, and you’re knuckle-deep in the garden digging up root vegetables, and he can’t remember ever having one singular morning which stood out, prior to this one.

When he agreed to stay on for a while, he had expected very little; drinking tea, walking down to the beach… maybe getting a job in town to wile away the hours in which you were occupied by your day job, shut inside your office just off the kitchen. Somehow, the idea that the things he had only vaguely dreamed of required work… just never crossed his mind. But that morning, you had brushed the hair from his forehead as he slept peacefully on the sofa, and leveled your mouth with his ear to say:

Druig, Mo grá… come taste the morning.

In his half-sleep state, he smiled, and tugged on your elbow until you knelt close enough so he could kiss below your jaw. “‘S that enough for ya, sweet thing?”

“Love,” you groaned. “I swear, you’ve never known the smell of fresh honeysuckle, right as the sun comes up.”

“What’ll you give me?” He raised his chin to challenge you. You just laughed.

That’s how he wound up sitting on the low fence this morning, with a fistful of honeysuckle blossoms jammed into his shirt pocket, staring at his sweet woman. You glance at him when you feel the heat of his gaze on your neck, and he blushes in a way that Druig generally doesn’t, unless he’s been caught in a genuine moment of nostalgia. Truth is–he doesn’t want for things. He’s lived too long to waste his time on the material. He has no belongings. He doesn’t belong.

Except.

One odd night in the country of the people who share his thick accent and love of dark spirits (if not his millenia on the planet), and he found you. Seated across the bar from you as you dodged up and down the length of the mahogany bar top, shilling cheap drinks in exchange for more conversation than coin, he had felt a kind of envy which was unbecoming of an Eternal. For your voracity, and the gift of existing solely in a moment. He’d never had the luxury of ignoring the passage of time, but you seemed not to even notice as the hours ticked by. You spoke animatedly with customers, and generally remained above the influence of time.

That was all that it took to convince him that he has been right about humanity all along.

He had returned to that pub every night until he found the words necessary to ask for some familiarity. You flirted shamelessly with the man who had no creepy lines, just a gentle smile directed solely at you. The act of becoming familiar had led to an embarrassed next-morning confession on your part… I never do this, I can’t believe we did this, you don’t have to stay–and Druig found himself compelled to prove to you that there was no such thing as ‘expectation’ when one had the privilege of touching the skin of someone peaceful.

He doesn’t force such propriety upon you, now. Some nights you cling to him so tight that he can’t quite tell where you end and he begins. Others, you rub the palms of your hands into your eye sockets in frustration (with everything except for him), so he kisses your forehead and takes his rest on the sofa. For Druig, it’s impossible that such an arrangement could ever lose its luster. Your needs are sometimes mercurial, but he loves that in a woman.

The love nickname. It’s quite Irish of you, and he’s not the only person you use it for. It all depends on your tone, as he’s learned from watching you tend bar and call absolute morons ‘love’ with as much ire as you’re capable of. It’s increasingly tender when you use it for him, as a few days together become months, and reaching for him becomes a habit. He knows you meant it most sweetly when it comes out in Gaelic. Mo grá is the gift you give him every morning, whether he wakes up on your pillow or not.

You don’t yet know that he’s a traveler beyond the bounds of time, but he thinks you’re beginning to suspect that he has no need for material pursuits. Especially considering that he’s occupied his time staying in your little cottage by turning the tea kettle on and off, and staring at the sea as if it’s going to rise up to meet him. And smiling wistfully while you pull vegetables up in the garden.

You’re such a gift, you said one afternoon. He had made you a stew, while you slogged away at your day job, and delivered you a bowl of the concoction in the midst of a meeting. His sweet face popping on screen while you were presenting had earned you no end of teasing from your coworkers, but you had taken it on the chin, because Druig was actually the best thing which had ever happened to you. Still is. They call him ‘the butler.’ He takes to the nickname with aplomb. On nights he doesn’t come to loiter at the pub, he putters around your cottage, finding things to fix. Not one hinge in the whole place squeaks, and there’s nary a day that your bed goes unmade (unless he’s convinced you to stay in, on the weekend, which happens with such regularity that it’s almost a ritual).

“None of that, madam.” He’s cradling a hen under one arm as she tries to nip at his wrist. She manages to break the skin and his eyes flash… and dim again, just as quickly. The chicken calms in his arms. He freezes, and looks up when you gasp.

Your face is blank. Not scared, not anything. Carrots hang between your fingers, and your mouth is open in shock. Then, you stand so slowly that he fears the worst has finally happened. “What was that?” you murmur.

Druig shakes his head. The meat of his palm is dripping bloody rivulets down his thumb. “Leave it, darlin’.”

“What did you do to her?”

“Shouldn’a done it.” The chicken has settled so comfortably on his lap that she’s become a little feathery ball of fluff.

“Look at her,” you breathe.

“Love–”

“Could you do that to me?”

His head snaps up. “Never.”

“No?”

“Not even if you were fighting that damned chicken for a bite of me.”

“Have you?”

“To people?” he asks dumbly, then presses his eyes shut. To people? No, ye daft prick, to other chickens, you’re the great chicken whisperer of Kinvarra– The peace is crumbling down around him, his hand stings… he jumps when your hands find his cheeks, upsetting the chicken from her new roost with an indignant squawk. He can’t bear to open his eyes and see the fear in your eyes again, so he slumps forward. You catch him, arms around his shoulders.

“Yes,” he says softly.

“How many?”

“Loads. Too many.”

“Does it hurt?” The question pulls a pained whimper from your throat. Druig looks at you, finally. Tears poise at the corners of your eyes.

“No, darlin–god, that’s why I did it. To stop ‘em hurting. Each other, ‘specially. It’s something I take no pride in, I don’t even know why I did it to Mrs. Minnivar except she’s always chasin’ me ‘round, and I didn’t think–”

“Why is this the first I’m finding out about it? D–you’re supposed to know somebody really well before you say you love ‘em, and this has me worried. What else don’t I know?”

“I’m–shit.”

“A bit, yeah.”

He huffs a laugh.

“If I clean you up, will you tell me?”

“I’d do it if you made me bleed out in the garden, love.” Druig holds his hand up at your insistence–above your heart–and follows you into the cottage. When he’s sat on the counter in the kitchen, you rinse his hand, and lather soap in your own palms to clean out the cut without making it worse. Your mouth twists in sympathy when he winces.

“It’s just about peace,” he manages as you press a clean handkerchief over the cut. “Takin’ away what ails ‘em. It’s the only thing I can do.”

You frown. “Where does their pain go?”

He curls his fingers around the handkerchief, and thumps his chest. Your hand follows. “Goes away. Eventually.”

Your hands fist tightly in his shirt, disturbing the honeysuckle in his pocket enough that the sweet scent makes the sickly moment seem ridiculous. Here he is, talking about the way he siphons pain straight into his veins as if it’s so simple. But nobody has ever asked how it works. His fellow celestials never had to. When you’re in a crowd of supernatural beings, those things seem trivial.

But to a human woman, whose superiority lies in the gentleness of her touch and her deftness with a martini shaker, he might seem monstrous. His face must show the pang of such a thought, because you rub his chest over his heart, as if that might soothe him.

“Druig–”

“‘S alright. I’ve lived with it this long. A man can get comfortable with pain after hundreds of years.”

You blink in surprise. “How old are you?”

He snorts. “How old do I look?”

“That’s exactly what an ancient person would say.”

“I lost count.”

“Hmm. And yet, this is a place you’ve chosen to be.”

“Darlin’--I’m happy here,” he emphasizes, trapping you between his knees by wrapping his feet behind your legs. “I forget about all of it. With you, I’m just a fella. Doesn’t mean I haven’t been reminded of who I really am, especially those nights you’re really goin’ through it, but that pain makes you human. So. I try to help you in other ways. I’m not carrying the pain of a whole civilization, I’m just trying to help my girl. You have no idea how much I love it. I’d solve any problem you have.”

“That’s why… oh, love. The meals, the laundry. Fixing all my cabinets,” you giggle, and his cheeks flush. “You’re doin’ it to unburden me.”

“If all I can do is bring you a bowl of somethin’ to eat, I’m happy.”

Your head falls forward, pressing against his chest. “Oh my god,” you murmur.

“Have I scared you off?” He kisses the crown of your head.

“I’m not easily frightened.”

“You looked it.”

“Can’t blame a girl for her face, when her fella’s eyes glow like mad.”

“Guess not.” He eases you away so he can gauge your expression. You’re fixated on his face, especially his eyes, but you truly don’t look worried anymore, so much as curious.

“‘S okay with me if you make the chickens cool it, every now and then,” you whisper. The corner of your mouth raises. He kisses the dimple which pulls at your cheek. “And Bobby. He tried to eat my basket yesterday.”

“He is a goat.”

“You’re above goat control?”

“Outta my jurisdiction, darlin’.”

You let out a beleaguered sigh, but you smile. “Fine. You still hungry?”

Druig brushes your cheek with his knuckles on his good hand. “You’re gonna forget it, just like that?”

“You want me to punish you for bein’ who you are? Please, D. I’m a reasonable woman.”

“An angel, more like.”

It isn’t that simple. Druig knows this. And the way you cautiously float around him for the rest of the day, it makes him briefly wonder if he’s made a mistake by thinking he could have a quiet life… someday he’ll have to admit that you’re not a permanent fixture in this world. But neither is he. On this day, so happy because he no longer hides himself from you, something shifts deep in his chest. When you push back from the table after breakfast and kiss his cheek, he smiles. Out the large window, all he can see is the blue ocean, and all he feels is peace.

My Masterlist

#druig x human!reader #druig x reader #druig #druig x female reader #druig x f!reader #druig oneshot

[saviorbook]

Tears

To angst or not to angst? That t'was the question for day three of @fransweek. Luckily, I'm indecisive.

The rain was pounding in Waterfall. Each drop was large and fast. It didn’t really matter to the two guards that could be seen sparring, though. Alphys wasn’t going easy and could be heard yelling at Sans, telling him to move faster, to be stronger. Sans was silent, calculating each of her moves, his own attacks moving at speeds that were difficult to register. Neither of them were willing to give up the fight until a cold wind blew through the Underground, causing Alphys to stumble back.

“you okay al?” Sans had stopped his assault and held out a gloved hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Weather must be pretty rough in Snowdin today, huh?” She slung her ax over her back and walked towards him.

“eh, it’s not the prettiest of sights. we’ve got a bad blizzard that’s been brewing. gonna head back to hotland?” He tilted his head to the side.

“You better believe it! I still don’t understand how you and Papyrus can stand living in that cold.” Sans shrugged and gestured to his skull.

“if i had to guess, i’d say it’s the lack of skin.” Alphys rolled her eyes before giving a curt goodbye a jogging away.

This left Sans to his thoughts, a thing he didn’t like being alone with. He thought about the past four years, how much everything had changed. Yet, it felt like nothing had changed. Everyone managed to grieve and reconcile with their feelings over losing two members of the royal family so easily. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t do the same, but he also didn’t know why the thought surprised him.

He had fallen in love with the princess. Of course, he couldn’t just move on. Too bad the only people that seemed to understand that, were also at odds with each other. He shook his head as he opened his front door.

“hey papyrus, i’m home!” He rolled his eyelights when he didn’t get a response.

Papyrus was either at Muffet’s getting wasted or was ignoring him, like usual. He didn’t really care too much as he climbed the stairs to his room and plopped on his mattress. He turned his head to the side and looked at a framed picture of Frisk and him. She was standing over him while was holding the camera, and they were both smiling like giant dorks. He propped himself up on one elbow and brushed away a tear that had trailed its way down his face. Man, he missed her.

“you know, i always liked this picture the best. it was so easy to get a genuine smile out of you but nearly impossible to capture it.” He chuckled to himself and held up the picture.

“i remember this picture specifically, because you tried rip it out of my hands. luckily, i happen to know that me having it means that you wanted me to keep it. with how determined you are-” His voice broke as he put the picture down.

“with how determined you were… with how determined you were.” He sat up in his bed as the tears began to flow more heavily.

“you know, it’s been four years since you died. it’s still pretty hard for me to believe. with your soul, i didn’t think it was possible. i really didn’t want to be proven wrong. joke’s on me, huh?” His head hung low as stared at his clenched fists.

Sans was startled when his phone rang, notifying him that one of his traps had been triggered. It was trap 2b; it was one of the harder ones to clear, but not a common one to be signaled. He looked up at his ceiling, praying to the stars that this wasn’t another snow drake incident, but he also didn’t really want it to be the last human either.

As he approached the trap, he could hear a menagerie of very loud cursing coming from the area.

“hey, do you mind keeping the profanities to a minimum? there are kids that play around here.” As he stepped around a bush, he paused to see if he could tell who it was he had accidentally captured.

“Get me out of here, and I’ll think about it!” Well, he had never heard that voice before, but he obliged.

“Thank you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m looking for a way out of here! I didn’t mean to fall into the stupid hole, and I just want to go home.” Great, it was the last human soul that was needed, and they were not dressed for the blizzard that was halfway up their shins.

“if you stay out here much longer, you’ll catch hypothermia. i’ll take you to my home where we can wait out the storm, and i can tell you how you’re not getting home. you’ll want to be sitting for that, by the way.” He held out his hand to the human as their stomach grumbled.

“I don’t need your help, and I can get out of here. The ghost lady told me how. I’ll admit, it doesn’t sound like something that would work, but she said it would.” Sans took a step back.

“okay. one, i helped you out of the trap; you obviously need help. two, don’t kill anyone. three, who’s the ghost lady?” It was the human’s turn to take a step back.

“Who said anything about killing someone?! I would never do that. She told me to go see some scientist fish lady. You are also incorrect that I need your help after the first time you helped me; that’s not what that means. Are you telling me that you can’t see her?” Sans looked away for a brief second before turning to her with a smile that left her a bit unsettled.

“you do need my help, because i can get you there without any further trouble on your part. plus, there are about four more traps, each one harder than this one to get through. no, i can’t see the ghost lady, and we can just pretend that i said nothing about killing.” They looked him up and down before their knees slightly buckled because of the cold.

“Okay, you won me over. Just so you know, though. I would’ve made it through this trap if I had listened to the ghost lady. She got me through all the other ones. My name is Chara, by the way.” Chara looked away as they held out their hand.

“my name is sans. i am a member of the royal guard, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He started to lead them to his house while he thought about what they had just discussed.

The only other people that knew how to properly get through his traps were Papyrus and Frisk. Frisk also had these crazy theories about how to use the DT extractor that no one was supposed to know about. While he wanted to be hopeful that the ghost lady was Frisk, it was too painful to think about, so he blinked away the tears that threatened to flow and carried on.

Two weeks had passed since he had allowed Chara into his home. It was probably very lucky that he had, since they ended up catching a pretty bad cold. It was also fortunate that Papyrus seemed to enjoy their company and Alphys was very understanding when she dropped by for a surprise visit. That was fun to explain. He had also been texting back and forth with Undyne so she’d be ready for Chara. Each text he sent was monitored by the ghost lady, that still had no name, so Chara was able to tell him what exactly Undyne would need.

Eventually, the day came that Chara would see Undyne. Of course, there was some major geeking out between both parties before any work was done, but they did eventually crack down. It was nearly a month long process, Sans no longer being kept in the loop, so he just went back to sparring, training, and trying to not think for too long. One day, he received a phone call.

“Sans, come quick! You’re going to want to see this.” Before he could answer, Undyne had already hung up, leaving him in shock and rushing to the lab.

When he got there, if his jaw hadn’t been properly attached, it would have hit the floor.

“frisk?” She standing in front of him, in the flesh, Undyne and Chara on either side of her.

“Hey.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as tears gathered in her eyes.

“hey.” Sans wrapped her in a tight embrace, not caring that his tears were probably soaking through her sweater.

#frans #fransweek #fransweek 2023 #sans x frisk #frisk x sans #frans au #underswap frans

[suzdotranslation]

[Interview TL] Holostars 3rd Anniversary special long interview with 1st gen - Part One

Source

Their bond gradually deepens because of "That Reason"!?

A gathering of the 1st gen members: Hanasaki Miyabi, Kanade Izuru, Arurandeisu, and Rikka! Special interview to commemorate Holostars' 3rd anniversary (Part One)

In the first part of this interview, we will be talking about their activities in Holostars thus far, their strength, and their growth.

Enjoy reading this article until the very last, for every "Holostars Fans" and also for new people who want to know more about them!

–The gathering of the 1st generation of Holostars!–

──Since this might be the first time some of our readers hear about you, please introduce yourself as a start!

Miyabi: I'm Hanasaki Miyabi from Holostars' 1st generation! I mainly stream various games and chatting as well. My favorite game genre is MMORPG, I play a lot of online games. My favorite food is hamburger, but because of my diet, I recently started eating more broccoli. I usually do things that I want and like at my own pace, while doing my best in my idol activities!

Izuru: I'm Kanade Izuru from Holostars 1st generation. I like music and nature, as well as myself. For my current activities, my favorite ones are playing guitar and singing stream. Sometimes I played the piano and came up with different variations of the songs I sang. This might be self-proclaim at most, but I think among every VTubers around I have the most variations when it comes to song selection...

Arurandeisu: Is that so!?

Izuru: I think I sang around 600 songs already. Outside of streaming, I often sang whenever I was alone or when I went skinny dipping.

──Skinny dipping!?

Izuru: Yeah. Both of my outdoor and indoor hobbies are quite extreme. 

I don't have a lot of friends due to my harsh personality, but after joining Holostars I managed to find people who could accept my personality and since I started enjoying my idol activities as well everyday has been really fun!

Arurandeisu: Whenever Izuru went to the sea, he often sends me some photos through LINE

Izuru: I thought he would understand my boyish impulses best, and since he seemed to be the type who took care of his body well and carries an outdoor aura similar to mine.  I can just send him the photos as it is (lol).

Arurandeisu: I guess you're right, you did send a lot of interesting photos (lol)

──By the way, what kind of interesting photos Izuru-san has sent to you so far?

Arurandeisu: There was one where he was about to start diving into the sea, but since the winds were pretty strong it looked like a photo for a movie poster because of how "lively" it felt

Izuru: The one with me carrying a harpoon on my back huh–

Arurandeisu: Yeah! It gave me a "Heading to the war nau" feeling when I received it on LINE. 

It was so cool.

Miyabi: What–! I wanna see it!

Arurandeisu: And the person who received such a cool photo is the one and only Arurandeisu, the genuine Italian Man of Holostars 1st generation. I don't go out pretty often but I love training my body so I like doing muscle training, recently I got really into DJing as well.

──Oh— What cool hobbies you have!

Arurandeisu: It feels like I'm able to have a lot of fun with every Holostars fan whenever I play and connect each Holostars song myself, so I think I did find quite a nice hobby.

──Do you also make your own song?

Arurandeisu: I originally liked rap music,  But doing all the songwriting by myself is quite difficult to do...  I did buy the necessary equipment and challenged myself once but it didn't turn out well (lol). Learning about songwriting from scratch requires a lot of calories as well, so it's quite impossible for me now. As I thought about how to approach rapping and its depth, I decided to become a DJ. 

Other than that I also do gaming stream, chatting as well as various things. You would see me streaming over at YouTube pretty often, so some even referred to me as the "Streaming Monster" a lot (lol).

──Thank you very much. Next is Rikka-san, if you would.

Rikka: I'm the "Holoroid" of Holostars 1st generation, Rikka. A holoroid is an android made by Cover Corp. by cultivating various technologies they had.  Similarly with Izuru, I often do guitar and singing streams, as well as making songs and doing various music-related projects.

Also, I have a program called "RiTunes Labo" where I invite VTubers and even non-VTubers guests for a chat and a duet session. It's a program that aims to give broader reach through music, so it is mainly aimed to be watched easily even for those who are not familiar with VTubers.

As for games I personally like those "death game" types of stuff, I also occasionally stream games that you can clear repeatedly as a way to pass time.

──This may seem out of nowhere, but there was a time when I participated in Rikka-san's viewer participation tetris stream. Everyone is really, really strong...

Rikka: Right! My viewers are truly strong there... I think the most amazing thing is that there's someone who joined the game and turned out to be one of the players who has reached the world ranking

Arurandeisu: Is that for real!?

Rikka: That sure was a hellish time... Tetris players are truly fearsome people.  Anyway, I often do live sessions during my anniversary and do a lot of song covers so I would be happy if you could check me out starting with my music.

–The "real" start of Holostars began after a certain meetup in December 2020!?–

──This year will mark the 3rd year since the start of Holostars, how do you all feel about it?

Miyabi: I feel glad to be able to say this now, finally it has been 3 years since then.  Personally, I felt like I've been a Holostars member for a longer period than that, though in reality, it's only been for 3 years instead.

Izuru: Right. I do feel that 3 years is a comparatively long period.  At the same time, there's more stuff to do once we pass this 3rd year as well.

Arurandeisu: Now that you mentioned it, 3 years sure passed down rather quickly.  I think as long we keep doing things that we enjoy, even a mere 6, 10, or even 15 years wouldn't feel that long for us

Izuru: Something like that yeah.

Arurandeisu: Yep. Just gonna let time pass by itself... (lol)

(Everyone started laughing)

Izuru: Sorry, we're just like this normally (lol).

──It's alright! Feel free to talk about any topics too...!

Arurandeisu: At least write only the good lines please (lol). How about you Rikka-kun?

Rikka: I'm not particularly the type who cares about how long I've been on this road, but I feel like the things I could do from 3D and various lives keep adding on as more time passes.  The fact that we're able to hold this anniversary event is proof that we've received even more support this year, so I feel really thankful for it. For that, I'd like to continue doing my best for the next 4, 5th years and more so I wouldn't take this support for granted.

Izuru: How wonderful...!

Arurandeisu: Can you make it like I was the one who said that, please, and thank you.

──(laughs). Let's reminisce about everyone’s activities up until today this time, is there a moment that leave a strong impression so far?

Miyabi: That would be the 1st ACT (concert).

Izuru/Arurandeisu/Rikka: Yeah.

Miyabi: It's the one event where I truly felt I've done "everything" with everyone, from singing, dancing, and training. We've done a lot of solo stuff before but this was the first time that the 9 of us are working together for a big event, so we often practice together as well.

Rikka: It's the moment we feel the most "Idol" I think.

Arurandeisu: It's like doing club activities so it's quite fun.  We often make plans like "Going to studio xx for practice this month and day".

Miyabi: Yeah true! After practicing for a few hours, we usually had dinner together as well.

Izuru: Rather than an adolescent complex, this feels more like a "Second Adolescent" moment instead.

Rikka: We don't have that much time to hang out once we reach adulthood after all.

Arurandeisu: That's right. Normally, we wouldn't be able to experience things like this.

Miyabi: Right... There's also a time when we're recording stuff at the studio, every moment is truly important.

Arurandeisu: Looking back, we sure did tons of stuff huh–

Izuru: Even within that one concert, there are lots of things we experienced so it's quite a big deal.

──So that concert must've been quite a special moment for all of you. How about from each of you personally, Are there any that leave a strong impression too?

Miyabi: Personally it was when I had an original song written by my favorite producer, 40mP. When I met him and received guidance directly, it really left a deep impression on me.  Both of us were actually quite shy, so during our first meeting both of us were pretty nervous that it created an awkward situation instead (lol).

But even so, when I asked him for a handshake he was really kind and nice until the end.  To have my favorite artist compose a song for me is already something I will remember deeply, and at the same time, it remains a precious memory for me.

Arurandeisu: It's been 2 years since then huh... I originally did demon-slaying and my idol activity was merely a side job. I then joined Holostars as a way to challenge myself and it was right when I changed my focus as an idol, that itself might’ve been the biggest turning point in my life so far.

After that, my activities got more varied as time passed, and I started taking singing and dancing lessons for live performances. I believe I managed to do all that because I've started to take myself more seriously as part of Holostars. Because of that turning point, I was able to give my 100% percent in this world, and I think that's how I managed to stand until now.

Izuru: (while sniffling on purpose) ...I see now.

Arurandeisu: Do you really have to put on a fake sobbing now!?

All: (laughs)

Arurandeisu: For me, that turning point itself is something that leaves a deep impression on me.

Rikka: I think it was quite a nice story.

Izuru: This might sound similar to Miyabi's answer, but I guess having a solo original song would really leave a deep impression on anyone.  Before I joined Holostars... Right after I graduated middle high, I bought my guitar, and then immediately started doing street live although badly.

I tried conveying all those various memories into lyrics and made a song out of it, but I also asked someone to help with composing it under my supervision. 

Once it took a proper shape and people could finally listen to my songs, it became a valuable experience for me and one that left a strong impression on me.

There's also one more thing actually...

──And that is...?

Izuru: It's when every Holostars member gathered together in December 2020 for an offline meetup. That was the first time we saw each other directly and had a proper conversation together.  For me, this meetup holds a special meaning in my life as we managed to be acquaintances in such a unique way. 

Before that, it felt like everyone was so far away but once we met each other,  I feel like we've only gotten closer since then.

Arurandeisu: Oh right, it does feel like we "finally" met after a while.

Izuru: Usually we can just use Discord to work on something, but because of that first contact,  I think it started a habit where we would meet up somewhere to discuss something together so everything could run smoothly. All of us seem to like each other equally by now.

Arurandeisu: Yep yep.

Rikka: For me, it would be my 3D debut stream. I'm the first person among all my Holostars peers who received a 3D, but on the debut day, some said how "easy" it must've been for me. Rather than worrying about criticism, I was more nervous and wondered if I could "pull it off well" instead and felt quite afraid at that time.

But in the end, I managed to muster up courage thanks to the feeling I tried to convey in my songs. I think that stream still holds a special place in my memory until now. Other than that, I also thought the December 2020 meetup had a deep impression on me.

Izuru: In a way, everything starts there. If we think about it like that, when Miyabi and myself debuted– around June 2019... It took 1.5 years until Holostars actually started then...?

Miyabi: Ahahaha (lol).

Arurandeisu: Don't crush our start line like that (lol). Before that we were mostly on our own, wasn't it? There was a time when I met up with Rikka-kun to have lunch before meeting with everyone else.

Rikka: Ah right. I think that's the first time we met Roberu too.

Miyabi: You two also collab’ed pretty often too, right?

Arurandeisu: Yeah. I did meet everyone else for a short time as well, but the December 2020 event was the first time where everyone gathered together.

──I see!

Izuru: I can't say what specifically, but I actually prepared a huge surprise for everyone during that meetup

Miyabi/Arurandeisu/Rikka: (laughs)

Izuru: That first contact is where I'm willing to give that much effort.

Arurandeisu: That surprise was the most interesting part but we can't really tell you what is it about (lol).

Rikka: Now that you mentioned it. Honestly, it really was the most interesting part (lol).

Izuru: For real!? I put in a lot of inside jokes so I couldn't really explain it, but I guess I sure did prepare quite a surprise then.

──I'm quite curious about the content myself, but everyone's excitement seems to have explained it well enough.

Rikka: You talked about Ten-chan as well right? At first, he looked quite stern and wasn't sure if he "Would meet everyone else again" but now he had this sense of duty to be involved (lol).

Arurandeisu: It's like he's coming there prepared, that's what I thought.

Izuru: Nowadays he hardly feels like how he used to be, it's almost surprising.

Arurandeisu: That's right! It's already at a point where he would casually stay over at my place. Everyone feels like they slowly change over time.

──Personally, I think Holostars "playful chattery" is one of their strongest charms, so how does everyone decide on a "role" between each banter?

Arurandeisu: I don't think we ever decided on a specific role when it comes to bantering...  I think, it just came naturally in each group.

Rikka: But Aru-san always gets the bullied role.

Izuru: (laughs)

Miyabi: Yeah he's the bullied one.

Arurandeisu: I can feel everyone's love from it.

Miyabi: Aru-san is good at natural tsukkomi and he can do boke as well, so he can adjust his reaction depending on the situation I think.

Arurandeisu: Thank you kindly (bashful).

Izuru: Just between us here, Aru-san actually had quite a potty mouth at the back.

Arurandeisu: Hey!

──(laughs)

Izuru: As for someone with an obvious role, I think that would be Rikka-chan and Astel-kun who evoke the feeling of "peace" and "in motion", making them the "driving force" for Holostars members themselves.

Rikka: You might be right, Astel carries a totally different kind of spectrum compared to me.

Izuru: Other than that, there’s Shien who appears as the balancer between both sides.  Then there’s Oga with his generosity and multitude of talents.  Roberu is always lively and good at talking, and...

Miyabi: How about me?

All: (laughs)

Izuru: You weren't as reliable back then, but recently you've been involving yourself a lot more so I think Miyabi's opinion is also important at some point.

Rikka: He's starting to be more open about voicing his opinion, right?

Izuru: Whenever Temma gets paired with Miyabi-kun, there's a sense of neverending banter in a good way within him.

Miyabi: Not knowing what might happen gives you a bit of excitement don't you think?

Rikka: He might be a genius in a sense.

Izuru: Now that I think about it although I initially thought he often thinks irregularly,  It's actually something that makes the most sense.  He's also good at keeping everyone's spirit at an all-time high.

Arurandeisu: If you put it like that, he might be the ultimate balancer among us all.

Izuru: He reminds me of a shooting star at some point though (lol).

Miyabi: In a way, it's pretty amazing that each of us has our own "role" within the group even if there's a lot of us now.

Arurandeisu: Everyone seems to be always quick to position themselves whenever we're meeting up.

Rikka: It's like they know what to do right away, and that makes the atmosphere around feel much better.

Izuru: That makes us pretty much capable of doing anything I guess.

Arurandeisu: Everyone is pretty high-spec! It may not look like it, but everyone has been doing a lot of stuff lately.

Izuru: Unexpectedly so. There are times when we are fooling around, but there are times when we're putting in serious effort.

Rikka: Yep. I think everyone could easily be an MC, a host, or basically anything. They're all geniuses.

──Seems like everyone here is pretty attentive toward other members.

Izuru: I think it's also because we trusted each other.

Miyabi: I think so too!

Arurandeisu: Right–, you get a feel like "I can practically say anything towards them without a worry" so it's rather nice, it means we can be quite relaxed toward each other too, and that we can pretty much do anything with them. I think being able to trust each other is also why we don't really predetermine everyone's "role" in the first place.

Rikka: If there's a catcher then one of us would be the pitcher, and by that pattern, there would be someone standing at the batter position already.  This place (Holostars) feels pretty similar to this description I think.

Izuru: That's right. Each of us could also influence one another at the same time.

Miyabi: Everyone is always so hyper it's quite contagious in a way too. Arurandeisu: It makes you look forward to what kind of thing that would happen whenever we're meeting up, right?

–Growing up along with the fans–

──Regarding the topic of "Growth" that was mentioned briefly, during these 3 years, have any of you noticed significant changes or growth within yourself? Please let us know.

Izuru: Before joining Holostars I didn't think much about my lifestyle, it's not like I put in my all to graduate high school to enroll in a good university, but it's more because that's the kind of life I've projected upon myself at that time. 

Nowadays I pretty much give it my all and think thoroughly about what I want to do, being involved in this kind of activity gave me more time to reflect upon myself more often than any other. From there I can see that I've already grown so much, at the same time I think there's still more room for me to grow further.

Arurandeisu: How earnest~!

Izuru: Leave it to me for this kind of interview!

Arurandeisu: Holostars' interview specialist right here! (lol).

Miyabi: I understand your enthusiasm, but try not to take every single question in okay (lol).

Izuru: I feel like I've managed to re-evaluate myself at the core and grow from there!

──On the contrary, what are some things that you feel are still lacking within yourself?

Izuru: Personally for me, it's the fact that I still couldn't control my emotions well, I think I'm still not mature enough on that front. I don't think it's good to always rely on our feelings when it comes to making important decisions.  I'd like to gain more experience and improve myself in a way going forward.

Miyabi: I didn't have that much self-confidence at first, and being the very first to debut under Holostars has been quite rough due to the amount of criticism I've gotten. I took some of them quite personally and there are times when I wondered if I really deserved to be here.

But after 3 years– receiving my 3D and a live concert to boot, as well as collaborating with various people has made me gain a bit more confidence over the years. I've had fans saying "Holostars won't be the same without you, Miyabi-kun!", and that made me more confident in myself. 

It makes me want to work even harder, and I think that alone is a nice thing. I think growing up, I've learned to not mind the negative comments as much. 

Moving forward, I'd like to turn those negative feelings into positive ones as I grow as an idol.

Izuru: I've been watching over Miyabi-kun from the very first, and his growth is at least quite significant. I don't think there has been anything negative around you recently, right?

Miyabi: Or maybe I made it look that way (lol). I tried not to show my negative side as much these days, and instead focus more on bettering myself.

Arurandeisu: I guess you finally managed to control yourself better then.

Izuru: So you've managed to control your temper much better now.

Miyabi: Ahahaha (lol).

Arurandeisu: So even Miyabi-kun had grown up huh...

Izuru: Yeah, unlike you Aru-san.

Arurandeisu: Well I'm already flawless from the very first...  So it'll be hard for me to grow even more beyond this.

Miyabi: ...Aru-san, you've changed.

Arurandeisu: Hey! This is supposed to be the part where you reply as the straight-man!!

All: (laughs)

──So have you felt a certain change within you as well, Arurandeisu-san?

Arurandeisu: Ever since I joined Holostars and became more serious about being an idol, most of my days are spent thinking about streaming and stuff I'm doing at Holostars.  Things like how do I make my fans happier– I think there have been more chances for me to think about it... How's this?

Rikka: Are you asking this for real now!?

Miyabi: I think it's a good answer (lol).

Izuru: Rather than being negative-minded, I think he started paying less attention to most criticism lately.

Arurandeisu: I think it's because I've found my comfort zone now.

Izuru: That's probably because you feel burdened by doing basic content, once you started doing things that you like, naturally you would end up wanting to do your best on it.  I think that itself is part of your mental support in a way.

Arurandeisu: Back then I was rather insecure no matter what I did...  Like I'm not exactly sure what is the right thing to do at that time.

Izuru: And now feeling like you might've found the right answer for yourself, you started to be more comfortable in a way. It feels like you're being more expressive nowadays.

Arurandeisu: Yep yep. I'm just doing things that I like, and to be able to find an audience who enjoyed it as much has made me even happier.

──How about you, Rikka-san?

Rikka: I'm not sure if I have grown significantly, but after streaming for such a long time I think I've managed to learn more about making a good thumbnail as well as other important things. As for deciding on goods and merchandise, I tried researching more into what people would like to have, things like whether they'd like it if I made certain goods and such.

Miyabi: Feels like everyone has improved on that part too.

Rikka: Yeah. Not just singing, but I think everyone's ability to notice that small details is proof that they've indeed grown. Not only do we receive more support nowadays, but I think we have also managed to grow up together as fellow Holostars members

Now that I recall, in our previous Ichioshi Talk session I've met a fan who brought 3 of their friends to the event, and being able to receive a compliment from someone I just met made me really happy.  I think it would be nice if we could experience something similar again from now on.

Izuru: It feels like we've fostered a really nice community.

Rikka: Yeah. And most of all, our fans are such warm people. Instead of gatekeeping, they welcome newcomers with a smile and even teach them a lot of things, in a way it's really easy to get into Holostars.

Miyabi: That's right. Everyone is so kind.

Rikka: I think it'll make it easier for people who have just known about us through this interview too.

Arurandeisu: Now then everyone, let's get along together!

Rikka: Scary–! All: (laughs)

#topic: holostars #type: interviews

[musical-chick-13]

Barbie Movie = White feminism

I do genuinely get what this movie was going for. And I think what it was going for is genuinely admirable: the idea that, as a woman, even if you do everything """right""" according to prejudiced society, if you are thin and white and young and stereotypically pretty and personable and not intimidating, you will still suffer the effects of misogyny. No woman is immune.

However, I think that message got...muddied. This is probably going to get really long, so I'll put the rest under a cut.

The narrative focus is on how different the Real World is from Barbie Land regarding the treatment of women, but in Barbie Land, there are WOC in positions of political power. Racism and transphobia don't seem to exist (at least, not in any way that we see). These things, as we know, do exist in the real world, so if the intention is to highlight the disparity between locations, the fact that other forms of prejudice are never even MENTIONED is a little odd. I don't think this was done with malicious intent, but as you said, the discussion of feminism in this movie is...very white.

Especially since our female co-lead is a Latina woman. She gives a very vulnerable, deeply personal account of what it's like living in the world as a woman and all the angles of oppression she faces for that (something so emotionally weighty it is the key to the plot's resolution), and there is...zero discussion in any of that about what life is like for her as a woman of color, or any of the expectations that are placed on her because of that. If Gloria's experiences with misogyny are so integral to the movie's themes and to her relationship to the world at large, why not include...anything about racism or racial identity?

I also feel like there's just...a very simplistic view of how the patriarchy works. Which, no, you can't break down the intricacies of an entire oppressive social system in the space of a two hour movie. But to suggest that just...acknowledging? Misogyny? Is enough to successfully fight back against it is...the most charitable thing I can call that is "overly-optimistic."

(Like. Trust me. We're aware of the expectations placed on us as women and how much those suck. We can't "rob the patriarchy of its power" just by talking about the patriarchy.)

And the idea that...just coming into contact with patriarchal ideas will completely brainwash you? I get that everything is exaggerated in Barbie Land and that it's not a one-to-one representation of real life, but that sat...weirdly. With me. Yeah, people are absolutely going to internalize some negative or inaccurate things about women by virtue of living in a patriarchal system, but plenty of women (as well as people of other genders) go through life without falling all the way down the misogyny rabbit hole. Outside of Stereotypical Barbie and Weird Barbie (who both had plot reasons for being "immune"), this was every woman. To the most extreme degree. And, again, I just...kind of question why. What is the implication supposed to be here? Are women inherently comically-susceptible to propaganda? Is it impossible for them to de-internalize misogynistic ideas of their own accord, to the point where someone else who is miraculously free of misogyny needs to "debug" them? The optics of this confuse me a little bit.

And there's some other stuff, too, that fell flat for me. Barbie Land is supposed to be a place where the men are treated like women are treated in real life, but we don't...really see that until much later in the movie, when they talk about how the Kens don't have places to stay and have no political representation. (And, sorry, but the solution to "the Kens have no home" is not "the Barbies need to let them stay with them." It's "build the Kens their own homes and make them accessible." You are entitled to safe and secure housing by virtue of being a person. You are not entitled to sharing housing with someone you're romantically interested in.) And the way that Barbie handles her unwanted relationship with Ken is...pretty much exactly the way women try to navigate unwanted advances from men in real life: avoiding explicitly romantic activities by saying she has social obligations, keeping a physical distance in the hope that he'll give up on trying to kiss her, making her annoyance as clear as she can in the hopes that he'll take the hint and leave her to her own devices. Women in real life do these kinds of things to avoid actively rejecting men (because sometimes actively rejecting them means they hurt us, or worse) and although Barbie's behavior isn't done as a defense against potential misogynistic violence, she's still acting in exactly the same way in exactly the same context as people who do have that fear. Ken is the one instigating this relationship, and Ken is the one who keeps trying to reestablish the relationship's boundaries. So even in the face of all of this, the specific takeaway is supposed to be, "The solution to oppression is not to make men oppressed the way that women are because look how equally horrible it is." But between the way Barbie and Ken's relationship is framed and the lack of specificity in how the Kens are treated, we don't actually have a consistent depiction of men being oppressed in the way that women are, which throws that whole message off.

But mostly...maybe this is just a me thing, but I question why we need a story about how It Would Also Be Bad If There Was A Matriarchy. We can barely even get people to discuss the misogyny that currently exists and admit that it's still a problem; we are not in danger of replacing the current system with the inverse by Going Too Far In The Other Direction, not any time soon. I just don't think that discussion is valuable right now because there's no chance of that outcome--of elevating women so much they become Oppressors Of Men--even happening. (Note: I am aware that some r*df*ms/t__fs are VERY much pro-subjugating-men-because-they're-inherently-evil, they are the minority, the general population is not anywhere NEAR that point of view.)

There were some really good things in this movie. America Ferrerra's monologue about how no matter which way you live as a woman, you're "doing it wrong" was incredibly true and incredibly relevant. The Mattel executive being SO insistent that he Loves Women but has exactly zero of them on his board. The fact that the Ken Movie sold out in-universe and made a bunch of money pre-release just because it was about a man. Making fun of the "Just take a girl's glasses off, then she's Pretty™" trope. THE DEPRESSION BARBIE WITH PANIC-ATTACK BARBIE SOLD SEPARATELY. I laughed a lot and there were a lot of genuinely emotionally-resonant moments, including from the standpoint of "Oh hey, I see/suffer from this type of misogyny too!" But I don't think this movie was saying anything particularly new or profound about feminism. Which it's okay if a movie isn't profound! I like plenty of things that exist just to be fun or enjoyable! But I got the feeling this movie was trying to be profound and make some sort of grand, revolutionary statement. And even if it wasn't, a lot of people are acting like it's the key to solving sexism and I just don't think that's merited.

#T__FS THIS POST IS NOT FOR YOU 'WOMEN' INCLUDES TRANS WOMEN. END OF. THEY ARE NOT A SEPARATE CATEGORY OF 'WOMEN-LITE' #OR 'FAKE WOMEN' OR 'WOMEN WHO ARE OTHER™' OR 'WOMEN AND TRANS WOMEN.' THEY ARE WOMEN. #multi t(ASK)ing #barbie discourse #barbie and feminism #I don't. really know how to tag this? #I don't want it to show up in the general movie tag but I want people to be able to block this post if they want to #behold! a creation! #I am precisely several months too late for this discussion but. what can you do #mel's media criticism

[euthanizememommy]

As a neurodivergent poc, is it just me, or do some nd/autistic grievances about neurotypicals sound entitled? I don't like neurotypicals as much as the next guy but some posts I see I can't help but to *stare in neurodivergent black person.* And it's not the ones that are just venting abt nt experiences it's the ones that talk about nts communication style as if it's unnecessary and for no reason or ones like "why do they ask "can you blank" instead of "do blank" why can't they just communicate clearly." Like we wall haven't heard of men killing women for a direct 'no.' or acting like If nt person did directly give them a direct instruction their PDA wouldn't kick in. Like, most likely, you actually wouldn't like if the nt person above you just communicated clearly and directly. And reading these as a nd poc, I can't help but read these as incredibly entitled. How is a nt person going to know how nds communicate or how best to say things to have nds understand when we also have contradictions on our communication style like I exemplified above. And before some of you argue "well we have to mask and speak like them why can't they do the same" because that's not how ableism works, they literally do not have to. Their life doesn't depend on nds understanding of them.

And I think it's also the rejection and dismissal of the communication style that give me the feeling of entitlement as a POC. Things like "I can't read their minds" or "I shouldn't have to dissect what they say to understand" okay? And I shouldn't have to filter everything I do to be "palatable" to be perceived as a human being to not just white people but everyone including other nd people. But they don't call this world racist and ableist for no reason so i mask as both a neurotypical AND "palatable" BECAUSE I HAVE TO. I WAS FORCED TO LEARN THROUGH YEARS OF NEGATIVE REINFORCEMENT. Being misunderstood as a ND while black can get me killed. In a perfect world we wouldn't have to, we don't and yes you should definitely practice trying to read their minds for you're own safety and efficiency through society. If you don't think you have to, great, I love that for you.

Like there's this idea its absolutely impossible for nds to understand nts communication style while also being known for pattern recognition. And I included that I have to mask as racially palatable for nds too bc I had an autistic yt coworker almost call the cops on a black guy just sitting in our restaurant bc they felt threatened(it turned out to be another coworker). Racism is one of the social constructs I thought we we weren't suppose to understand guys! I just simply cannot buy that we have pattern recognition, but the link to nts aversion to emotional friction to soft indirect language confounds ALL of us.

I have to learn the language of my oppressor to live, to move efficiently through society and that is the same with trying to communicate with nts. So when I hear nds talking like this it not only gives me the ick of entitlement, but genuine concern for safety. I'm not always spot on but I've figured out enough, it's not impossible.

Here are just some of the ways I've come to understand nt communication while being nd

1) WHY ARE NEUROTYPICALS LIKE THAT (MASKING):

Mask for us are uncomfortable and can only be worn as long as our energy provides. Mask for them are IMMOVABLE so much so they can actually FORGET they are not their mask.

Background: nts do not have our pattern recognition that tells us someone is a dick or a threat. Think of it like how it is in the wild, when animals are around unfamiliars that seem to be in the same place in the food chain, they don't act however they want, they have to approach slowly so that they know they are safe.

That is why nts act fake and why they rely on small talk. They're collecting information until they have enough to feel a level of comfort. And I say levels bc they have designated comfort levels for work, home, friends, romantic partners, etc.

We build our lives off of our Interest, things we enjoy, people who we share with, etc. their lives are built off their mask, their REPUTATION. Social hierarchy isn't just something they use to feel better than someone, their opportunities for advancing their quality of life is directly correlated to their advancement in the social hierarchy. For most, it's literally how they feed their children. Their mask is what they use to meet the people they need to meet in order to get the job they have or even the person they marry. If this mask were to slip everything they've built would collapse. You know in those coming of age movies where they're like "I forgot who I was to fit in" this is what they are referring to they LITERALLY forget in some sense who they are bc they don't have a special interest, they can make anything an interest especially if it means they can gain an advantage i.e "my boss likes golf, I will act like I like golf=oh no Im a golfer"

2)WHY DO THEY JUST FOLLOW ORDERS, WHY DO THEY HATE WHEN I ASK WHY. (In a work context)

In order for things like governments, offices, society, to exist there are people at every. Single. Level operating. Most of the time they aren't mad you're asking why bc they think you're being insubordinate (in some cases yes) but most of the time it's bc there are so many other factors. The task in question is one of many under layers and layers of previous orders in a specific sequence, like a chain, that so many people depend on that when interrupted could negatively affect a lot of people. All of this could also be happening all at once. So they really just need you to do the task bc the explanation is so long and the execution of it doesn't require telling you, so when you stop everything demanding explanation, disrupting an operation much bigger than you, this is why we come off as selfish.

The way I alleviate for myself so I won't get fired is I either inference the why or tell myself "there is probably a good reason why they want me to do this and I'll find out soon enough" I usually do and it usually is. So yeah they really can't just explain it to you when you want them to.

3) WHY CANT THEY JUST BE DIRECT WHY DO THEY HIDE BEHIND SOFT LANGUAGE

For safety. I'm really tired of nds acting like this concept is nonsensical as if PDA and RSD wouldn't have you in a mess if you were talked to without soft language.

Okay so WHY do neurotypicals say "CAN you do this?" When they me "do this thing." Why is "no" unacceptable and why does everything have to be in a code.

They want to be PERCEIVED as nice. Remember their livelihood is dependent on how they are perceived. They don't want to straight out say "No" bc that could mean they are offered less opportunities bc they've set a standard of rejection.

I can't think of more right, please if there's always something you wanted to understand behind why and nt does something I can probably answer I just can't remember it all bc it's a lot obviously. But the best way I navigated understanding is comparing it to the wild, the food chain, and understanding as the inverse of being nuerodivergent. After doing it again and again you begin to notice the pattern. Not only did this help me for important things like work but it helped me better distinguish between nds and nts and stop wasting my time trying to be accepted by nts.

#nuerodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #ask #poc #neurotypical #questions #racism #code switching

[just-some-guy-at-shiz]

Okay, so here’s a scene: Nessa’s just gained power and started restricting rights, and Boq is bitter. There’s a bit where she keeps asking him to fetch her things out of this one particular cabinet, until eventually he gets fed up. Cue the sounds of furious hammering from another room. Nessa rolls in to see Boq standing hands-on-hips beside the cabinet, which has been ripped off the wall and sloppily nailed on farther down the wall, within Nessa’s reach. It is lopsided. One corner sticks out farther than the others, another corner is cracked, and bent nails stick out everywhere. There are patches of wallpaper missing where the cabinet used to be. This is purely an act of spite. But Nessa is thrilled, because now she can do this one thing without him.

Boq is genuinely puzzled that she’s thrilled. He kind of assumed she liked people to do things for her, because who wouldn’t, right? Didn’t really occur to see it from her point of view, because he’s too self-absorbed and oblivious for that. He figured she just had mean fun running him around on tasks 24/7. But he starts to realize that she really would rather be self-sufficient if she could, and he realizes how much the world she lives in is not disability-friendly.

Yes she’s the governor, so she definitely has the power to change things, but it doesn’t occur to her to do that, because there have never been accomodations that weren’t made special for her. She needs to be helped by Elphaba while at school because there are literally no ramps on the entire campus. Just stairs. Oz doesn’t seem to have any kind of accessibility standards for any of its institutions. Nessa doesn’t try to adjust everyday aspects of her life to fit her better because she never realized that was an option, because no one ever treated it as one. For her entire life, everyone just assumed she couldn’t do things for herself. So she believed that about herself as well.

But Boq doesn’t believe it. …Because he wants her to stop needing him. He’s very annoyed that he’s stuck with her, because in his eyes it would be very easy for her to be without him. Until the cabinet thing where he sees her excitement and realizes that it’s really not easy. So it becomes his one goal in life to fix everything standing in the way of Nessa being self-sufficient.

Out of spite.

Why is Nessa’s (one-story) home the only building with ramps on the porch stairs? You’re the governor! Put ramps on every building, so you can go to all your meetings and stuff without me! You’re already tyrannical, so outlaw stairs altogether! Ramps or bust!

Also, it’s home renovation time! Everything moved within reach (because it all really should have been anyway, but when Nessa’s father was alive he and Elphaba would have probably have gotten everything for Nessa, and she’d just be resigned to her own inability). Add other home-renovation lifehacks for wheelchair users that I don’t know about because I don’t need them and it’s too 12:22 AM for me to bother looking them up!

And Oz has somekinda steampunk technology, right? Too many gears on the set pieces for there not to be, nevermind the dragon. What if we could put a motor on their chair? What if there could be useful harnesses for times she needs to be out of the chair? What if there were those chair-lifty-seat-things on the side of tall staircases?

Anyway. My point is, Boq starts making more small changes, hoping it’ll make some difference. Nessa worries when he’s gone all day, but he comes back exhausted from working on a rough, bumpy dirt path that was impossible to roll over, chopping up logs to cover the path in smooth wooden planks. He re-positions more shelves and cabinets, more neatly this time. He does a few other domestic things that I can’t think of off the top of my head. All out of selfish desperation, mind you, but with each of these changes, Nessa’s mood lifts, and she demands less of Boq, which makes him less moody, and they start to actually get along. And now that they’re communicating, they work together on this accessibility improvements stuff, because who knows better what Nessa needs than Nessa? Now that she’s seen how much of a difference can be made, she’s taking charge of it all for herself, because she can.

Nessa stops being bitter about what she still can’t do for herself, because now there’s so many more things she can. Boq stops being bitter about his whole situation, because Nessa’s starting to ease up on the whole tyrant thing, and it’s sorta endearing how excited she gets. Now that she spends less time gloomy and solemn (or short-tempered), he can see the way her eyes light up when she’s happy, and she smiles just as sweetly as that night at the ballroom…

The huge problem I can’t get past is that he still doesn’t love her. Because Boq is seemingly the only person who doesn’t think she’s helpless because she’s in a wheelchair, who believes in her self-sufficiency, Nessa loves him even more than she did before. And now that he’s growing to be on friendlier terms with her, Nessa would be even more convinced Boq loves her back, when really, he just doesn’t like-like her and that’s that. This might all be for naught. She might still get heartbroken and magic-spell him. But… What if walking, amazing as it would be, wouldn’t “change everything”? What if she already feels mostly self-sufficient? What if she’s no longer bitter about being dependent? Would that change anything?

I expanded this too far. The only important thing is the scene where Boq rips a cabinet off the wall and practically just duct-tapes it on again lower down, and then gets baffled that it apparently wasn’t recieved as an act of rebellion.

#wicked #wicked musical #boq bfeeson #nessarose thropp

[tandytoaster]

I wonder if my family ever actually expects me to have kids. I have a sneaking suspicion that silently they hope that someday I reach mental clarity and decide to have children. Which will never happen. I don't mean this in a despairing way but I think things are just gonna keep deteriorating from here- or at the very least stay the same, which isn't that great. I've been much better before and I can't see myself reaching that state again for a very long time, if ever at all.

For some reason I've taken it upon myself lately to try to imagine just what it might look like? For 5 seconds sit in that discomfort just to affirm how horrible it would be for everyone involved. I just couldn't ever deal with everything that comes with that, like I already have trouble enough with the responsibilities I have. Its like a job that never ends and I already dread the thought of working 9-5, which thankfully I don't have to do.

I think whats started this was me thinking about how many people my age have babies / toddlers and how like... impossible it seems. It just doesn't make sense to me. Like there's this whole new thing that's ( hopefully ) going to be a permanent part of your life, changing everything, until you die.

So much of this is my perception of time being so horribly off, and my mind being stunted from trauma and mental illness. Like I'm just a kid :( but I'm almost 24. But I'm just a kid. I know my mind has grown in other ways and the way I see the world and process things but I'm still just a kid and it's something I can't bring myself to let go of. For the most part its not a problem but sometimes, but rarely, it kinda is, but thats more of a 'how other people perceive me' issue. My family knows I'm in a relationship they know I'm an adult I'm sure they assume I have sex and I don't like that!!! I don't want my family to think that about me even in passing. I know they're not Thinking about it but the thought of them even briefly being like, "oh she probably does that" i hate it it feels gross. I know there's so much to unpack here and idk where to start but that's why i go to therapy

I remember when I was 12, in health class we were doing the reproductive system unit at the end of the year and we were all talking about what we would do if we got pregnant / got someone pregnant and, as a 12 year old I didn't know abortion was something that people could do, so my only solution to this was, "I would just kill myself", not in like... a depressed way but in a "i need this problem to go away and this is the only way i know how" way. I'm so fortunate to live in a place where that's possible. Genuinely life saving care.

There's a lady I follow on instagram who recently had a baby and when she first announced she was pregnant she said she didn't want kids, it didnt come naturally to her, but she knew her partner did so she's doing this for him and hoping she'll grow to get used to the idea and fall in love with it- but it never happened. I know she loves her baby and is doing the best she can, but it's so... uncomfortable watching it all unfold knowing if she wasn't with her partner her life would be entirely different and be something she actually wants it to be. Makes me sad.

I wanted to play video game tonight but instead I wrote this oops

#noop nooping #negative - #I KINDA SPIRALED but im okay