#I just know that 1. Being loud in general would not be nice to either of us. and 2. I can be a bitch! I can say some rancid shit!

[foxgirlmoth]

So my life is feeling like its on an upward swing since this is my final semester for my associates, I'm starting a new job real soon and also possibly have a really nice remote job if I hear back from a few places I recently applied to.

And it always terrifies me when good stuff starts happening.

Change is really hard for me especially when it feels like its all at once. With better pay comes the opportunity to leave my parent's house finally and move in with a girl who has lovingly stolen my heart. With my school behind me I can find better jobs even!

But at the same time, its just. So scary for me. What if I can't keep up my part of rent. What if my chronic pain or ADHD or other disabilities put a strain on someone I love to my core, and I end up making things worse because I get extremely emotional and will scream (at myself mostly) and panic during these high stress times (especially if money is involved)

I've had a 'safety net' of family members who barely tolerate the fake me I present myself as, and I know my mental health is going to be so much better when I'm not around them, but at the same time I need so much help sometimes. Family just happens to help in terms of shelter and food. It also doesn't help that the one other time I moved out it ended so so poorly that I'm still working through that trauma.

Hurting the love of my life in any way fucking terrifies me. I want nothing but the best for her always always always. I just know I can't always be at my best, its impossible to be. I will break at some point and probably scream and cry about how things aren't going nearly to plan and I'm so weak so often I don't know if I can pull myself together fast enough to not hurt myself or her with my untrue words.

#I used to have (What I'm pretty sure now were autism) meltdowns so bad when I was younger. #I was always told I was selfish and that I can't expect to have x thing or y thing fixed #And I would scream and slam my hands against my legs and the ground #Its never been pretty #I just learned to cry before it gets to that point now and I just sob so fucking much #But if it feels like my life is over? I just. I just can't. I'll still scream and cry and pulp my legs bruised and hands bleeding #And showing my wife all of me includes all of these things I hate. This could happen if I move in with her #I haven't had a meltdown in a while from what I remember #It was probably right after I moved back in with my parents. And was pretty much coerced into an environment I felt extremely unsafe in. #tw self harm #jic cause I have mentioned beating myself #I haven't been close to a meltdown around my love at all tbh so maybe I'm scared for no reason. I mostly just cry because #Thats what happens when any emotion runs high #<- Girl who is currently crying typing all thid #also I hope no one reads hurting her as physically. I've never thrown a punch in my life. Well. I guess except at myself #Huh thats the first time I've thought of it that way. That sucks #I just know that 1. Being loud in general would not be nice to either of us. and 2. I can be a bitch! I can say some rancid shit! #And that would! Be fucking bad and hurt! And I so desperately don't want that #And I know accidentally hurting someone is something you need to expect when you're in a close relationship with someone #It still fucking sucks though #AUGH I just needed to type this all out I'n feeling better already. I'm just a scared girl so often. #I want to live more and more each day so I know I'll make it. Even if I do it scared. I guess I hope you see this honey #Since this is stuff I should be talking about with you #Getting my thoughts sorted though before talking is good though. The reason I type this on fucking tumblr is because it helps me think #Also being vulnerable and letting friends and mutuals and the like see all this is a chance for me to better myself I suppose #This has been a runa rant #runa diary #I have a habit of overthinking. Methinks #Honestly my current safety net of family has been pretty fucking bad #The one time I earned a little bit more money than I needed for bills I was basically stripped of a lot of it paying my folks rent

[differenteagletragedy]

Drunk dial from Cove and Derek

What if you were in college and your two best boys called you up while wasted? Wouldn't that be a nice little surprise?

Different colored text to simulate multiple choices, just for funzies. Brief she/her pronouns, just because Derek has to say "hey gal" or what's the point. Ok bye!

You sighed deeply, looking over the mess of papers and books strewn all over your tiny twin bed. You had your textbook, quizzes and exams from earlier in the semester and the notes you'd taken in class.

You had a history midterm in the morning, and either you were going to take it or it was going to take you.

You were worried. You were kind of a slacker and hadn't been doing too well, but this class was part of your general education requirement so failing wasn't really an option.

You were worried. You'd been diligent about note-taking and felt like you had a solid grasp on the material, but it was a big test.

You weren't exactly worried -- you're kind of a nerd for this stuff, and felt confident that you were prepared and would do well, but was there really such a thing as being too prepared?

As you read over what your professor had said would be covered on the test, you glanced at the clock. It was nearing 1:00 AM, but your class wasn't until 9:00, and you'd definitely gotten less sleep since you started college a few years ago. You settled in a little bit, pulling your knees up to your chest and getting cozy so you could delve back into the finer points of the Revolutionary War.

Then your phone started to ring.

Curious about who could be calling so late, you reached over to snatch your phone up out of the mess of papers. You smiled when you saw your best friend's name pop up on the screen, waiting for you to accept the video call.

You answered the call, preparing a joke about how your early bird bestie would not be getting the worm in the morning after calling at this hour, but Cove had other plans.

"Heeeeey, y/n," he said, smiling sloppily. His voice was a little too loud, his tongue was a little too loose, and he let out a little giggle even though nothing was, as far as you could tell, particularly funny.

Cove was drunk. Like, really drunk.

"How are you doing there, bud?" you asked, smirking. Cove didn't drink much, but when he did it was always a sight to see.

"Good, good. I -- no, listen. Y/n. Are you -- hey. I've got a surprise."

Proud that he managed to get out a coherent thought, you raised your eyebrows, feeling a bit like you were indulging a small child and wordless inviting him to go on.

"Are you ready? I want ... no, be quiet," he said, looking off to his side. For the first time, you heard a deep chuckle. Someone else was with him, and you didn't have to put too much work into finding out who.

"Derek's back!" you said cheerfully, laughing as Cove clumsily turned his phone so you could see another old friend sitting right beside him.

"Hey, gal," he said, grinning easily. "Do you have anything you'd maybe like to say to me today that you couldn't say on another day because it wouldn't be true on another day, a well wisher, or ... wait, that's not ..." he trailed off, turning to Cove. "What am I saying?"

So Derek was drunk too.

You knew what he was trying to get at though -- it was his birthday! His 21st birthday, to be exact. You'd called him earlier in the day to chat, but it wouldn't hurt to give the birthday boy more special attention.

You realized at once what he meant -- you'd totally forgotten, but of course it was his birthday.

"Happy birthday," you told him, and he closed his eyes blissfully.

"Here's what I did, I'll tell you," Cove said, bringing the phone closer to his face but holding it far enough that you could see Derek swaying happily. "I did -- I knew it was his birthday. And I don't have to work tomorrow because I'm off ... I'm off work tomorrow."

Cove was never exactly an eloquent man, but Drunk Cove was an absolute disaster.

"So I said -- do you know what I said, y/n? I said, 'It's Derek's birthday and he's turning 21 and that means ... y'n, that means he can legally drink,"

"Does it?" you asked, content to watch your buddies be silly.

"Yeah, it's the law," he answered, and you thought you caught an eye roll. "So I said, 'I'm gonna go see Derek and take him out for his first drink.' And I did -- I did do that."

"Y/n," Derek said, grabbing Cove's wrist to twist the phone back in his direction. "Did you know people are so nice to you on your birthday? People gave me so many drinks and most of them were gross but I drank them anyway because --

"It's a rite of passage," Cove cut him off. "That's what my dad said. He said -- Derek, he said that you take your friends out on their special birthdays."

"Your dad condoned this?" you asked,

"Well, kind of, but it got -- listen, it's -- ok, so ..."

You listened as Cove started and stopped a weird string of sentences about how he'd hopped in his car and drove up to Derek's college to surprise him on his 21st birthday. Derek, ever the good boy, hadn't had any plans for debauchery, but it seems like Mr. Holden had told Cove about the tradition of getting your pals wasted when they turn 21, and your two childhood best friends found themselves at a bar near Derek's school.

They took turns telling you stories about their night out, but when Cove started going on a disjointed tangent about Long Island iced teas -- which, he complained, did not taste like iced tea but instead fire accelerant -- you saw Derek starting to look a bit sleepy, even with a smile still plastered to his face.

"You doing all right, Derek?" you asked him.

"You're so pretty," he answered happily. "You look like an angel. You don't have a wings or a halo or ... you know what i mean. Pretty."

Before you could react, Cove looked over at him and said, "I think y/n is pretty like a mermaid."

"She doesn't have a tail," he argued.

"No, I know -- obviously she doesn't -- but you know, like sea creatures, like the ocean," Cove argued, not very successfully.

"Maybe she's pretty like a goddess," Derek supplied. "Like a Greek goddess and she sits on Mount Olympus and people fight wars and build fake horses over her and she can have babies from her forehead and there are statues in museums and everyone's like, 'Wow, that sculptor forgot an arm but look how pretty.'"

"Pretty like -- like a siren," Cove said, sticking with sea creatures. "And she like sits on a rock and all these sailors want -- everyone wants to talk to her because pretty. But there's not ... is that the one with the bird stuff?"

"I don't want y/n to have bird stuff," Derek pouted.

You laughed. Your friends were too sweet (and kind of dumb right now).

You laughed, but you felt a light blush pop up on your cheeks as well. Did Cove really think you were that pretty?

You smiled. You'd always had a bit of a crush on Derek, and it made you feel good that he thought you looked nice.

You wished you were in the same room as them more than anything. Cove and Derek had both grown up pretty darn attractive themselves, and it sure would be nice to be in the middle of that sandwich.

As fun as the phone call was, you really did need to get back to studying. You also weren't sure if your friends would even remember this phone call in the morning.

After getting Derek to stop rambling and Cove to put together enough words to work for a an acceptable goodbye, you went to hang up.

"Y/n, wait," Cove said, and you paused.

"What do you want to do for your birthday?"

#olba #cove holden #derek suarez #olba derek #our life beginnings and always #olba mc #olba cove #our life

[twstfanblog]

*~Nasty Neige~*

AN: GOD, I lost control over this fic the second I started it, I didn't mean to make this thing so long. Which is why it took me so long to get everything down and editing. I know I missed something but I can make edits as I put links up on the other entries.

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: Neige being a general creepy guy. Obsessive thoughts, stalker vibes. Swears. She/They Yuu OC.

Pairings: Vil/Rook, Vil & Yuu (Siblings), One-sided Vil/Neige, Epel/Deuce?/Jack? (Guess)

Enjoy~!

Starter, Part 1 (Here), Part 2 (Heartslabyul), Part 3 (Diasomnia)

Classes didn’t start for another week and the open house event didn’t start for another day, so Yuu didn’t have any reason to be awake before noon. But she was because her trauma-filled body kept hearing noise downstairs. The first few times she was able to drift back to sleep, not hearing anything after the initial sound and assuming Grim was walking around looking for snacks. But then she realized Grim was still sleeping tucked up against her stomach, more floorboards creaking downstairs with no explanation. She does her best to not jostle Grim, reaching to the nightstand and grabbing her phone, cursing under her breath as she sees it was barely past 8:30 am.

She didn’t change out of her pjs, slipping on her houseshoes while she left the bed. Making sure Grim was tucked into the still-warm covers, Yuu grabbed her golf cub, making her way downstairs and avoiding the loud boards. Even after multiple renovations, there were still floorboards that creaked and on bad storm nights the whole house sounded like it groaned. (A part of her simply made peace with that it wouldn’t be Ramshackle if it wasn’t a little old and creaky). Besides her, Grim was the only one who knew what boards hated being stepped on. Ortho knew them too but he didn’t walk much. Epel seemed to take sick pleasure in stepping on each one whenever he came over, and the rest of her friends were either too naturally loud or heavy to not make noise in the dorm. 

She would have felt more at ease if whoever was in her house was being loud. Her friends were loud, even if they knew she was asleep. But whoever was there was trying to be quiet and failing. Once downstairs she tries to hear where the intruder was, poising to swing. The sound of the toaster popping gives her the element of surprise, rushing into the kitchen.

Both she and the blond intruder scream when they see each other, Yuu just barely stopping her swing. Vil braced himself against the counter, breathing in a forced calm pattern before glaring at her. His hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, face bare besides a tinted lipgloss. Dressed in a modified cropped yellow hoodie, high-waisted black leggings and simple sneakers, “I swear you and Epel are determined to give me gray hairs! Why are you just so ready to deal violence!? It’s 8 in the morning!”

Yuu leans against her golf cub, trying to ease her own adrenaline spike, “Yeah! It’s 8 am, why are you in my house!? Also, are you dying? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without foundation.” Her anger grows seeing the disheveled model look at her with a pinched face, not answering her as he turns back to plate the food he was cooking on her stove. She opens her mouth to yell again, only to look at the kitchen window and realize, “...Did you close the blinds?”

Yuu had an odd relationship with blinds after meeting Rook. Yes, she kept her more personal areas heavily covered and only opened them for her monthly dorm deep clean, but the more communal areas of the dorm were free to be viewed from outside. It was nice sometimes to be relaxing on her lonesome only to hear a tap against a window. A tap could be Jack and Vil on their morning runs asking her to pass them glasses of water or fruit she had on hand. Maybe Lilia coming to scare her or show her a new melody he’d learned. Ace or Deuce coming to beg her for help after they’ve pissed Riddle off. And Vil knew Rook would rather enter through a window than a damn doorway. Either way, open blinds at Ramshackle had come to mean ‘Come in’. Something that Rook delighted in whenever he wasn’t too busy with his ‘errands’.

“...” She looks around, finally taking note how all of her downstairs windows seemed to have not only their binds but the thick curtains closed, “Are you and Rook fighting?”

“Oh, he’s going to wish we were when I get back in the dorm…”

She laughs, watching the model bite into a slice of toast with a runny egg on top of it, “Oh sevens, the year hasn’t even started yet. Why are you fighting?” 

Vil huffed, rolling his eyes, trying to avoid her gaze. Talking with one’s mouth full was just rude, plus he knew if he started ranting his food would be cold before he was done. If he had to hide out at Ramshackle for the day he would need the protein. Glancing down at Yuu, he openly takes another big bite of toast, just to show he wasn’t going to answer her anytime soon.

“Ok, fuck you too then, I’ll just open the blinds while you’re being a bitch.”

He chokes on a bite, nearly dropping the plate in his rush to shove it onto the counter. Nails sinking into her shoulder to stop her, not caring at the mush of food falling out of his mouth as he shouts, “NO!”

Yuu hisses, a hand coming up to yank Vil’s hand away from her, “OW!? Ok, what is the issue? Is Rook finally coming to shave an undercut on you or something?”

Vil sighs, giving her a small apologetic look before he swallows, “Neige is in Pomefiore. I…really didn’t want to deal with him today so I managed to make my way here to hide out. I don’t think anyone saw me, but I didn’t want to risk someone seeing me from the windows…” He takes another bite of toast, fingers wiping yolk from his lips, “Sorry about your shoulder…”

“...” Yuu sighs, placing her club against the wall and waves his apology off, “It’s fine. I hate Neige too but like- Wait, why is his ass here?” At Vil’s equally bewildered shrug her brows crease, “The open house doesn’t start until tomorrow? Are you sure he’s like here, here?”

“Seeing how Rook was yelling outside my room about his ‘Roi de Neige’ being in Pomefiore and he had to make himself look presentable, I would think so.” Vil scoffs, rolling his eyes at the very idea of anyone liking Neige.

Good ole Rook, scaring the precious wildlife to get them to escape a foreign danger. Might as well send him a text to ask how long he thinks it’ll be until Vil was safe to enter his dorm again.

“Well, get comfy I guess. Idia made sure I was set with cable and various media players, so there should be something on the TV. I’m going to make breakfast for me and Grim.”

Vil moved out of her way, finishing off his breakfast before grabbing a mixing bowl to hand to her, “Sorry, I should have made you two something as well instead of just myself.”

“Please don’t. Your unseasoned pallet would send Grim over the edge.”

The dorm leader, moves the bowl out of her grip, smacking her on the head with it before putting it on the counter, “Fuck you, you don’t need to use salt and garlic salt in the same dish.”

“They are different things, Vil.”

“They’re both salt.”

Neige looked around before fully exiting from the mirror, a hand quickly making sure his wig was in place. It wasn’t hard borrowing a disguise from his friends on his current movie set. Decked out in a mid-length pink wig and pale blue contacts, a simple white shirt, indigo overalls and his dark brown boots he wasn’t the least bit recognizable. Biting into his lower lip softly, he squealed, staring at the castle against the early sky. That’s where Vi slept! The blond had been in this very pocket dimension for years, he walked on these paths, talked in the halls, bathed in the water- He needed to focus. Giving himself one last preening, he calms his breath and walks toward the dorm.

Each step made his heart flutter. Excitement and fear pulsing in his veins the closer he got to the large, pristine castle. He was breaking so many rules; he wasn't supposed to be here for many reasons. The open house wasn't even open for the Seven's sake, he didn't go to this school, and he had no one's permission to be here. But he had to, it was his only chance. The open house would no doubt have people crawling all over the campus. Neige wouldn't be able to walk around as himself, let alone be able to get some alone time to talk with his Vi.

Ah. Just the thought of him alone was enough to make his knees weak. 

He closes his eyes, hands gripping onto his shoulders in a self-hug when he finally steps onto the main area of the dorm. He breathes it all in, nearly missing a figure in an old yellow hoodie race past him to exit through the mirror. 

He opened his eyes in panic, looking to see if the other figure was suspicious of him. He lets out a breath in relief. Whoever they were, they seemed more interested in running to wherever. Vi had made posts about how proud he was of his dorm members taking morning runs, maybe they were simply late for a run with friends. His palms get sweaty as his thoughts start to race at the thought of Vi running with him.

The image of Vi in his black and light purple designer tracksuit, hair pulled back into a wind-swept ponytail. Lips open in a pant as sweat drips down his jaw- FOCUS. He wasn't here to fantasize! He could do that when he went back to his dorm. Hopefully after gaining something to remember his trip by.

His eyes scan the courtyard. It was beautiful as expected, with elegant pathways of carved stones and a large elaborate water feature giving a calming background noise to the area. Apple trees with bright red fruits scattered amongst the deep green grass. The area was so clean and proper he could almost imagine he was back on Royal Sword grounds.

Pulling out his phone he starts to walk on the grass, whispering a small apology for ignoring the very clear sign saying to ‘Stay Off’. Vi had posted a video in late spring. He and a few other students had replanted a number of trees after a mysterious storm had wrecked multiple dorms in NRC. The blond was shown smeared lightly with dirt, a smile on his face as he gently placed a nursery tree into a hole. The video ending on Vi smiling to the camera, air-kissing the leaves of the tree and a message showing up. 'Grow up lovely, little tree'

(Neige won't comment on how he spent an hour in the bathroom connected to his dorm room, trying to hide his sobs as he promised the paused video to grow up to be a big lovely tree. He doesn't think he was successful if Chenya's side-eye was anything to note.)

He wanted to find that tree, he needed to. The urge to simply touch it, feel the bark and soil that were touched by the hands of perfection. Maybe, if it wasn't too tall yet, he could even kiss those same leaves…

It took him nearly an hour, 9 am rolling around and the sun making its formal appearance in the sky, but he found it. Tucked neatly at a distance from two adult trees, small blooms in the branches but no fruits. This was the tree.

Neige takes a picture, walking closer and snapping more as he posed in front of the tree. He looks the tree over and frowns, in such a short amount of time the tree had matured too tall for him to properly kiss its leaves. He couldn't even take a blossom without struggling to climb the still-thin tree. He was light, but he couldn't risk harming the tree Vi had put such love and dedication to. 

Instead, he looks around, making sure there was still no one walking around the courtyard before he gently placed his hands on the trunk of the tree. One last nervous glance around, he licks his lips, leaning forward to lightly air kiss against the bark of the tree. Pulling back he felt his nerves alight, filling him with excitement that pulled him back toward the tree. This time his lips connected against the rough bark, lips stinging from the contact before he pulls away.

An indirect kiss with his Vi. The tree was their shared project now, another creative child they can look back on together. He can barely hold back his squeal, bouncing on his heels before wrapping his arms around the tree in a hug. He even peppers a few more kisses onto the bark.

Rook had only sent a single text to respond to her. Stating he would come for Vil when he was done with his hunt before ignoring her other messages. Even now, as lunch rolled around, there was still no answer from the French man.

"Do you not have anything that's prepacked or frozen to eat, potato?"

Yuu looks up from the kitchen table, glaring at the model searching through her cabinets, "You know, you don't need to be here. You could just go back to Pomefiore and deal with your waking nightmare." She turns back to her phone, ignoring Vil's groan and him slamming the cupboard shut.

"You know I can't. Not until I’m sure Neige is gone anyway…" He sighs, moving to sit beside her at the table, "Well, it's not healthy, but I guess I can afford to skip lunch…"

"..." She huffs, rolling her eyes and standing, "No skipping meals, Regina. How about you let me get you a cheat day snack and we can spend time watching terrible movies?"

Vil raised an eyebrow at her, a single black painted nail tapping at the table as he thought her offer over. Vil didn't take cheat days often, if ever. But…he was probably due for one. While he found her food to be disgustingly overseasoned, Yuu did make efforts to modify her favorites so he'd feel comfortable indulging himself. He clicks his tongue and stands from the table, "I suppose. Nothing too greasy dear, the stress of today is already doing a number on my skin. I'll go pick some movies out."

While Yuu was busy in the kitchen, Vil got to work kicking Grim off of his game system. The cat huffed and yowled, but quickly made his way to the kitchen to beg Yuu for a snack. Once Grim was gone, Vil got to work picking from Yuu's horrid movie choices.

Vil could't blame Yuu for not knowing anything when they first met. As the cover story went, before he spoke to them, Yuu was an extremely sheltered child who hadn't been allowed to interact with society. Their social disconnect and blank references to common knowledge only sold the lie. He remembers talking to Crewel, mildly worried of Yuu's home life and what kind of person would raise such a child.

But now he knew them better and didn't need to hold back his distaste for their movie tastes.

What he wasn't expecting was for them to drag him into these terrible movie-viewing sessions. They were at first just painful, having to sit and watch mid-tier actors do mediocre jobs. Sitting quietly as they flubbed lines or the crew barely performed their duties. 

But at their first viewing session, Vil took notice of Yuu's attitude. They were open on their negative opinions of the films, pointing out the same issues Vil found and even some he missed. Before he knew it, it'd become a biweekly event of picking a terrible movie, new or classic, and ripping it apart together. Sure people could call it 'mean', an A-list movie star tearing into indie films. But they were bad films. And he was free to say whatever he wanted in his private time.

He planned on staying the whole day, so he picked more movies than he'd normally allow for a single session. He hummed a song under his breath as he started to set the TV up, a melody he heard Epel mumbling under his breath over and over. The sound of popcorn popping just barely heard from the kitchen. Soon, Grim returned to the couch, making a point to push against him just to be an annoyance, Yuu following behind him with a tray. A bowl of popcorn with a pitcher and two glasses of juice.

They set the tray down on the coffee table, Vil catching a glimpse before they shut the lights off, “Potato! Why would you make this?”

Yuu sits beside him, also shoving their shoulder into his chest in a mock cuddling position, “Shut up, Mexican- I mean- Xochian popcorn is a perfect cheat day snack! Plus I only used like half the mayo and cheese. It’s basically flavorless, just how you like it.”

Vil glares, taking a single kernel before starting the first movie, “How you’ve survived this long on your diet both amazes and infuriates me.”

Neige kept close to the walls of the dorm. There weren’t too many people walking around, almost all of them simply minding their own business. One even waved at him as they passed in the hallway. He had to pat himself on the back, his disguise was working perfectly!

His nervous walk had slowly turned into his normal skip, eyes roaming along the walls at the ornate architecture and glamorous frames of art. In his bliss, he nearly skips past what could only be the dorm’s lounge. A large seating room with multiple couches and duos of armchairs scattered on polished marble floors. Off in the corner sat an ebony grand piano overlooking the orchard of apple trees. He inhales deeply, the scent of apples and vanilla filling his lungs, with another deep breath, he can pick hints of other notes. Pinches of a flower he couldn’t name and some type of earthly produce. Neige wondered if the smell was something Vi had created or if the dorms naturally smelled this refined.

The lounge was empty, giving him the pleasure to walk and explore the place as he pleased. He took his time to inspect the couches, taking a photo now and again and wondering if he could purchase a matching loveseat for his side of his dorm room. Throw pillow in hand, he walks over to a pair of curtains, lifting them just to peek behind them. The silk pillow slips from his hands, stunned as he looks at a peacock-themed throne. Vi’s throne, the one he sat on. Neige bites his lip so hard he feared he would draw blood. Looking behind him and seeing no one, he stepped into the hidden cove where the throne sat, closing the curtains behind him and hiding from stray eyes.

He drops to his knees instantly, folding his arms under his cheek as he rests his head on the seat of the throne. It was so cozy…Smelling of fresh linens and a dash of lilacs. Nuzzling into the fabric, Neige lets his mind wander. The idea of being in the same school, the same dorm as his Vi, getting to kneel at his feet and rest his head on his lap. His nails dug into the cushion, breathing picking up as he imagined Vi petting his hair while he hummed to him.

After getting his fill, he stood up, phone raised to take a picture of the throne. A dozen photos later he was back in the dorm hallway, smiling at the growing album of photos he’d have for his digital dream board. He pauses in front of a series of photos lining the wall. He then realized it was the portraits of past house wardens, each of them hand-painted with a neutral, regal expression. Neige smiles, looking over each beautiful face. This dorm was made for Vi, a place where only the beautiful and talented could be allowed. Not only had his fellow actor been accepted but he had conquered. His steps picked up speed wanting to see if Vi had a portrait at the end of the hall.

No museum could compare to the masterpiece before him. The portrait of a younger Vi stared back at him, sitting at a 3/4th view sitting on a chair with his hands placed on his lap. His hair was pulled back, a simple updo with the ombre ends curled on top of his head. The crown Vil normally wore tastefully askew was placed on him properly, it looked so odd but still so perfectly Vi.

He looks down the hall, making sure a group of students had gone around the corner before he looks to the other side. Seeing the coast was clear, he quickly stepped closer to the portrait, leaning down and pressing his lips to the painting's hands, kissing at the smooth ivory fingers. Before he could stop himself his mouth opened, tongue peaking out to lick a quick strip against the surface. It didn’t have a taste past the hint of bitter, he wondered if Vi’s fingers tasted bitter. It would make sense, Vi worked a lot with potions and natural cosmetics, Neige would deal with the bitter taste if he could kiss Vi’s fingers for real…

"Why are we doing this to ourselves?"

"How does he just forget the name of his sister?"

"Do you hate me? Is that why you've made me a part of this cursed ritual?"

" They haven't spoken for like only a year! How do you just completely forget your sibling like this!? Did they both sustain heavy brain damage!?"

"This is the industry I've dedicated my life to…"

They were only on their second movie, but both Vil and Yuu were ready to bash the TV as a form of self-defense. That or simply weep at how nonsensical the plot was. Vil couldn’t really believe half the movies he had been forced to watch were from the same studios he had worked with. It felt surreal for him to see ex-costars acting in what were possibly the worst films ever conceived. It scared him at times- was that his possible future? Going from box office hits to acting in direct-to-disk spoof movies? 

Though they joked about him being at least better than direct-to-disk, Yuu was firm on stating Vil wouldn’t ever star in a flop. His fanbase was too devout to him not to buy tickets, even if the movie looked bad. With his acting skills alone, he could at least make a flop into a cult classic.

(“I mean look at me. I love watching shitty movies. It’s even better when an A-List celebrity shows up in one. Like, it’s half the fun to figure out why they’re there than following what the plot is.”)

Vil groans at another scene, lying against the couch with his arm resting over his eyes, “By the sevens, they’re related!”

Yuu groans, snatching the bowl of popcorn from Grim, grabbing a handful before offering it to Vil, “This is genuinely annoying. Do you remember what the plot is?”

Sighing, Vil reaches for the pile of Disk boxes, grabbing their current movie before reading the summary. Mid-read he pauses, staring at the back of the box with a blank expression before he tosses it away, grabbing the remote from Yuu’s hands, “We’re starting over.”

Grim groans, having climbed over their laps to place his head firmly back into the popcorn bowl, “Why!? You guys don’t even like these movies!”

“Never thought I’d agree with Grim, but Vil this is painful I want this to end.”

Vil shushes her as he restarts the movie, “No, they’re not siblings; they’re childhood friends.”

“Wait, what?” Yuu looks between Vil and the screen in confusion, “No…We would have caught that! We would have caught that much of a scenario prompt!”

“Well clearly we didn’t, so now we’re restarting the movie with the proper context. Maybe it will actually save the film…”

Yuu groans, sinking into the couch, “This is somehow a new form of torture, I know it is…”

He was going to be arrested one day, he knew it.

Neige rested his back against the closed door, eyes looking around the room with wide excited eyes. Vi’s room. He was inside Vi’s room. He could die right now and do so with bliss.

He couldn’t tell if he was sad by seeing the room was empty, or relieved he wouldn’t be questioned by his idol and holder of affection. He’s not sure what he would do or say in his disguise under Vi’s critical gaze. Neige feared he’d either crumble and spill the truth the second the blond lifted a perfectly shaped brow, or he’d keep his identity hidden and simply tell Vil everything.

That would absolutely get him arrested though.

But Vi wasn’t in his room, no one but Neige was there to stand and exist in the space. Arms moving to hug his body, trying to hold in the happy bubbles of laughter as his eyes roam around the room. Soon he gathers the courage and pushes off the door to explore. Everything was meticulous, a place for everything and everything in its place. The only oddity was the haphazard way the bed was made. His fingers twitched, wanting to properly make and tuck the covers, he could even fluff Vi’s pillows!

Sighing sadly, he decides against it. No need to make Vi worried about someone weird being in his room without his knowledge…

Instead, he walks around, stopping at the vanity, and allowing himself a single spray of a perfume bottle’s bulb. Fingers ghosting over the color-coded lipsticks in their custom-made container, fighting the urge to use one…Vi wouldn’t notice, right? No…No, he couldn’t. Vi cared so much about his makeup, Neige couldn’t mess with something so precious to his idol.

He walks over to the bright red exercise ball, a smile on his face as he entertains the idea of bouncing on it for a few minutes. Instead, his eyes catch a semi-hidden hamper tucked into the corner. Was…oh by the seven. Was that Vi’s dirty clothes hamper?

Neige stood frozen, nails picking at his cuticles and threatening to break the skin (Don’t bleed here, do NOT bleed here). He looks from the corner of his eye, a bead of sweat threatening to slide down his face. The door was closed, he was all alone in the room with no way of telling when Vi would come back. He bites his lip, stepping closer to the basket as a smile breaks across his reddening face. He could…just for a little while…

Before he knew what came over himself, Neige had his head buried in the hamper, inhaling deep with gasping breaths. Hands braced so tightly on the edges he feared he’d actually break the material under his grip. He pulls his head out, tilting it back with a wide smile on his face as he pants, a manic laugh bubbles out of his lips.

Crunch

Neige freezes, eyes dropping back to the hamper in fear he actually snapped something. The sound happens again, from the door-

He nearly falls from how fast he turned, looking to the open door to see a boy with soft purple hair standing there. He had a nonchalant look on his face, one hand inside an oversized black hoodie with the words ‘TRACK’ printed across the front and the other holding a bright red apple with a few bites taken out of it. Blue eyes met blue and Neige had the brains to try to start an apology. Something to gain enough goodwill to explain…what he was doing, “U-um-” Oh sevens, Neige knew this boy. This was one of Vi’s friends from the VDC! He’d tell!

Epel just shakes his head slowly, his hand reaching out of his hoodie to grab the door handle, “Don’t even wanna know... Whatever the two of y’all are doing, just keep the damn door closed.”

And like that, he was gone. The door closed behind him and it was almost possible to imagine he was never even there. Neige let out a heavy sigh and felt his entire body relax, Epel didn’t seem to recognize him. He was also painfully uncaring of seeing who could only be a stranger in his dorm leader’s room huffing his dirty laundry. Well at least he left…the two…

His heart rate picks up again once he realized what Epel had said. He only needed to turn his head in a quarter turn before he saw who else Epel was talking about. There on the bed, like he was always meant to be there, was Rook Hunt. He sat on the messily made bed in a dull purple and grey plaid flannel, dark grey pants with a strap around one thigh, and mud-stained boots. Short locks managed to be pulled into a small, tight ponytail. One hand resting against his propped-up arm and the other holding an arrow delicately, a bow slung over his shoulder. Neige couldn’t even shake, he felt his blood freeze as he looked in bright green eyes.

Rook tilts his head as he taps the arrow against his crossed leg, “Don’t mind me Roi de Neige. You’ve truly been a lovely hunt for me all day~.”

For a split second, Neige let his eyes dart to the closed door then to the window before snapping back to Rook, “I-I was just-!”

“Shhhh.” Rook stands from the bed, walking closer and Neige realizes with terror the strap around his thigh was holding a knife. The blonde leans down to softly tap the tip of the arrow to Neige’s nose, “Run.”

“W-wha-?”

“Run.”

It was dark when Vil woke up, humming at feeling a heavy hand shaking his shoulder lightly. Blinking awake he sees Rook standing over him with a calm smile, his ponytail just barely contained by an elastic band, “Mon roi, It’s getting late. We should get you some dinner and then a proper bed.”

Vil sits up, stretching his arms and looking around the room. Next to him was Yuu, slumped against his side and sleeping peacefully, the bowl of popcorn knocked to the ground with a few kernels on the carpet. He clicked his tongue softly, did he have time to clean that up?

Rook didn’t give him the chance to choose, pulling him from the couch and steadying his still sleepy body easily. Once Vil was stable, Rook moved to place Yuu into a more comfortable position. Vil stifles a yawn, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and resting it over them. He smoothes down their hair, smiling when Rook puts an also sleeping Grim closer to the prefect, both softly cooing seeing the first year instantly grip the cat monster closer.

“Alright, back to the dorm, Rook.”

“Oui!”

Vil barely hisses a ‘shh’ before shoving Rook into the hallway, slipping out after locking the front door behind them. Walking back, Vil huffs and runs his hands through his hair, pulling it free from his ponytail, “So…Did you have a nice day?” He really hoped he didn’t.

“Oui! It was so wonderful. I got to shadow mon Roi de Neige all day! Such a thrilling hunt to remain outside of his eyes until I chose to pounce. It’s why I was so late retrieving you mon Roi”

Son of a- “Great, so happy your day was so fun Rook-”

Vil stumbles, feeling Rook suddenly pressed right against him with an arm wrapping around his waist. A teasing smile on his lips as a hand reaches up to tug at an edge of the yellow hoodie he was wearing.

“It has only become more magnifique seeing you’re fond of my old Savanaclaw hoodie mon chou~. I had always feared you simply threw it out! But to know you kept and made it your own has filled me with such joy!”

“...” Vil sighs, looking away from Rook, ignoring the laugh he lets out, no doubt seeing the soft blush on his cheeks, “It was all I had on short notice…”

#twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #yuu oc #rook hunt #vilrook #neige leblanche #nasty neige #yandere neige #soft yandere #pomfiore

[pluckyredhead]

Red Hood and the Outlaws #1 (2011)

It's been a while since I've read RHATO, so I figured I'd reread it - and if I'm doing that, why not make you all suffer with me? I will probably get tired of this before I finish all the various series, but let's see how far we get.

Roy, that would probably work better if your bow had a string.

The issue begins with Roy in a prison in Qurac for trying to overthrow a dictator. He's rescued by Jason, in disguise as a pastor in a fat suit (sigh). There's so much wrong with these opening pages: the fat suit, the writing off an entire Middle Eastern nation as evil and corrupt, the fact that there's no way even a collapsed bow would fit inside a hollowed-out bible, the lazy way the panel layouts waste space...and yet. And yet.

These pages. THESE FUCKING PAGES. "His name is Roy Harper. He's an idiot. Nice guy, but an idiot." "His name is Jason Todd. A lot of people say he's crazy...Let's just say the Red Hood is my kind of crazy!"

This kind of parallel narration always makes me think of the 2003 Superman/Batman comic, which used it extensively, to extremely (and likely unintentionally?) homoerotic effect. After I read this issue, I told a friend that I got it now: Red Hood and the Outlaws was Superman/Batman for edgelords.

Which is to say, I'm pretty sure I started shipping these assholes just from these first terrible pages.

(But seriously, there are three pages up there and only five panels. Five panels! Plus some pointless maroon boxes that don't do anything! I want my money back.)

This panel is super misleading, because it implies that Roy and Jason know each other well enough for Jason to tease Roy about being a chatterbox, but later issues will show that barely know each other at this point. But then, trying to keep the backstories straight in this or any Lobdell book is like watching sand run out between your fingers.

And again here, it implies that they were already friends, a team, partners...something. But later we'll learn that they only met once, and it was years ago, when they were kids, so...what gives?

(This page is actually interesting, because Jason is constantly saying playfully mean things to Roy and Roy never seems to mind, but here he clearly hurts Roy, and he knows it.)

Siiiiigh.

To add insult to injury, Jason immediately announces that he's fucked Kori. You'll notice I aggressively ignore this in every fic I've ever written. Part of that is because I love Secret Virgin Jason, but also it just doesn't mesh with his and Kori's relationship throughout the rest of the series or his hilarious lack of game in general, and it's also so inextricably part of Amnesiac Sex Doll Kori that I just want nothing to do with it.

HATE. HAAAAAATE. The devious smile on Jason's face in the bottom row and Roy's calculating expression are so deeply disgusting to me. "This woman can't meaningly consent! She's like a cave fish with a vagina! Sweet!" Scott Lobdell is a vile human being and so is everyone who signed off on this piece of shit. (Fun fact: this was a HUGE controversy when the New 52 launched and the outcry was so loud they walked it back in a later issue when Kori tells Roy she...just lied about all of that for no reason? Okay.)

Also, "ask her about the gang you used to hang with." Uh...what gang is that, Jason? Because Donna didn't exist at this point, Wally was 12, Garth was a literal baby, Vic joined the League immediately upon getting his powers, and Gar was a child being tortured in a lab somewhere. So was it just Roy, Dick, and Raven? And they certainly weren't the Titans, because Tim's team was the founders in this continuity...which Lobdell should have known, since he was also writing that book.

The person asking to speak to Jason is Essence, his ex, who tells him something cryptic about murder victims with missing organs.

YOU DON'T KNOW MOST OF THOSE PEOPLE EITHER, ROY!!! "Remember Garth? The baby?" (Literally, he is a baby who shows up for one panel. In Atlantis.) And who the fuck is Dustin?

Anyway, Kori propositions Roy and he's like "Sure, why not." Did the target audience actually think this was hot? It's so depressing.

Essence tells Jason that something called the Untitled has attacked something called the All Caste, and Jason makes a surprised Pikachu face.

Elsewhere, a guy in a basement looks at a picture of Kori online.

I will admit to liking two things about this page: the fact that Jason's helmet is in the nightstand implies that Roy and Kori fucked in Jason's bed, which is either hilariously rude or an invitation that sailed right over Jason's head, and the red hand print on Roy's chest. It's the first glimpse of a recognizable Roy in this book; he did always like getting manhandled by scarily powerful women, pre-Flashpoint.

Jason goes...somewhere, to a temple of sorts with a lot of vague cultural appropriation going on, and kneels over the corpse of an old lady. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you, Ducra," he says, before a bunch of people attack him. END OF ISSUE!

And that's Red Hood and the Outlaws #1! It's confusing, misogynistic, lazily drawn, and not very funny, and there's no reason to be invested in whatever the fuck happened at the end because I know nothing about Ducra, Essence, the All Caste, or frankly, this version of Jason. And yet I am absolutely going to read nine more years' worth of this shit. See you in issue #2!

#rhato reread #red hood and the outlaws #jason todd #red hood #roy harper #arsenal #starfire

[the-s1lly-corner]

I don't know if anyone has asked for this yet, but can we have a Nutcracker (preferably male) reader and/or ballerina (Preferably female) reader being besties and just doing little performances for everyone in the circus. This can either be romantic or platonic Reader(s) x TADC, I don't mind! Go crazy with it! Go wild! I love to read ur headcanons and stuff so much man/pos

Gangle, Kinger, Jax, Caine x reader who hosts shows!

two things! i couldnt decide on the gender of the reader so you can read it as both or either </3 other thing, i still dont take reqs for the entire cast (nothing against you this is a blog wide rule/character limit) so i went ahead and ran the request through a wheel to randomly select characters with that said, i hope you enjoy!

CAINE:

i think, given that hes the circus ringmaster of the circus as well as generally being in control of things thanks to his status of an ai, he tends to host your shows... might even make the other circus members watch. whether you want to read this as platonic or romantic, he just does it because he wants to support you and allow your talent to be seen...! though he might get rather.... loud about it. ive said it so many times but im ready to say it again, he would be your number one fan and hes going to be very clear about it. probably throws roses to the stage for you when youre done with your performance... cheers and claps the loudest... hell, if youre comfortable with it, he might just wear a shirt with your name and face on it..! truly your number 1 fan

JAX:

i think if this is platonic, depending on how close you guys are he might try to disrupt the show by being a jackass. generally being annoying and trying to get a reaction out of you... though i dont think he would do this if you guys are actually. close or good friends and/or dating... now practice? thats something else... definitely a case of him being able to see that you enjoy what you do and you have passion and dedicate himself so he might just try to contain himself and his need to be an asshole and cause havoc.. i think if asked what he thought he would seem a little neutral about it, hes not going to praise you excessively or be mean.. jax doesnt seem like the type to gush over someone or something no matter how much he liked it.. best youd get out of him is a "good job,".. definitely one that hinges off of how close you guys are and how much respect and boundaries are set up between you two

KINGER:

i think he might be a toned down caine, looks like he would give you a rose after your performance.. though if youre not a flower person i think he would swap the rose out for something else. while caine might be barely containing his excitement throughout your performance, kinger is much more likely to be able to sit still and quiet... although still very much consumed by you, perhaps even sitting on the edge of his seat in an attempt to get a better look at you. i think he would notice a lot of smaller details and stuff you put in your shows, such as costumes or decoration, too... maybe its self projection, but i think he bounces between being clueless to having a really really keen eye when it comes to things... also the fact i love the hc of "clueless/chaotic/commonly zoned out character noticing something vital or making a smart point for a moment before reverting back to status quo" is one of my favorite tropes.... loves watching you practice

GANGLE:

i think she might actually help you with costumes and stage decorations! sure her thing is mostly art and you might have to recruit the help of ragatha for some things but i think gangle would be more than willing to help you out... plus it gives her something to do, and it means spending time with you! and thats always nice! very receptive to the stuff you have to say but i think she might try to offer some alternatives to make things visually look more appealing... as for actual performances i think she would love them! she strikes me as a theatre kid, and your sort of thing is adjacent i think... might gush to you about the show and how you did, though its often that she might trail off and become sheepish if she feels she was getting too into her ramble.. generally very sweet, though, but due to her shyness shes not going to do more than the rest of the crowd (throwing flowers, clapping louder than everyone else, ect ect ect)

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #caine x you #jax x reader #jax x you #kinger x reader #kinger x you #gangle x reader #gangle x you

[madaboutmunson]

Sweet Home Chicago Series - Stupid Cupid (Part 1)

Summary for overview of the whole fic can be found here

For @eddiemonth Week 1 prompts used Parents, Observant, Bad Reputation - Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, Lost, Role Model, Crush, Warm Warnings: None that I could think of, but let me know if you feel any should be added, and I'll do that straight away :) Romance/Fluff Word Count : 13K Ao3 Link

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1959 Little Italy, Chicago

Eddie arrives at night, and unlike Hawkins, this place is still bustling. He can only imagine what it might be like tomorrow. Alive, vibrant and diverse. Everything back home wasn't. Wayne has driven him all the way here. Even though he said several times he had the money and was fine taking the bus alone, his uncle didn't want to hear it. Besides, it would be an excellent opportunity to catch up with Eddie’s Mom.

Eddie knew this was a half-truth. Wayne was a worrier, even though it cost him time and money for gas and food at rest stops. It at least meant that he knew Eddie was safe. It did give him a chance to catch up with his Mom, but this wouldn’t be a chit-chat. Wayne didn’t mean to be judgemental, but Eddie knew he wanted to check the place out, make sure his Mom was okay, and that Eddie would be OK here.

Eddie was eighteen now, a man. He’d often told Wayne he didn’t need him protecting him and his mother henning around him. But he knew that was a lie, too. Eddie was too different to not run into trouble, and they both knew that, even if Eddie had set his mind to starting over and being someone brand new in a place where he had a clean slate. He didn't have to be the loud, weird, bad kid here. He could be the quiet, unassuming budding author, and people would like him for that, not be put off by his previous self. 

Eddie was evolving. He could use this place to settle in and to mault. Rid himself of his disfunctions become healthy and normal. That's how you get ahead in life. An easy life.

He was so nervous. It had been some time since he’d seen his mom in person, though they generally stayed in touch with occasional phone calls, letters or parcels. In the last ten years since she left, maybe five Christmases and three birthdays. But she always called him.

Since he’d hit his teens, Wayne had little to discuss with his mom that Eddie couldn't communicate himself, other than the bad stuff that Eddie always conveniently left out.

Eddie had been a good kid. He just had a less-than-ideal start in life. His father was in and out of life more often than the changes of school term. There was no nice way of saying it. His dad was a criminal. Specifically a conman. His specialities lay in being charming, blending in and rustling up disguises out of basically nothing. Maybe if he had chosen the right path when he hit that fork in the road of life, he could have been a phenomenal actor. He easily imitated voices, sounds, and mannerisms, effortlessly embodying characters like donning or doffing his hat. Which made the rare bedtime stories he told masterpiece performances.

From what Eddie can recall of his parents' relationship, it was very loving, but they seemed to be stuck in the cycle of teenage love and angst over and over. One day, they would be dancing around the kitchen, gazing at one another across the table, hardly touching their food at all, or curled up on the sofa together like two love-sick kids. But the next could be a complete warzone, arguments over the same things, either his dad’s risky next job or his mom’s failure to keep a steady one. Maybe none of that would have been a problem for the two of them, but when the third part of that equation was a young, hyperactive, attention-starved, anxiety-riddled son, it just fueled the fire.

His Mom and Dad never called him a mistake, and they did give him the love they could spare, but they were very young, and Eddie came along before they’d even caught a glimpse of the vague edge of their dreams. Neither of them had great relationships with their parents. His Dad’s were distant. Disowned him for his sinful way of life, being the god-fearing people they were. His Mom doesn't even remember her mom, she only remembers her Dad, who was essentially her best friend her whole life until the Munsons muscled into the scene, and he wanted better for her. When they ran away to get married against everyone’s advice, it broke her Dad’s heart, and they never spoke in person again. Eddie guesses it made sense they would cling to one another when they must have felt like flotsam just bobbing about in the world, lost and alone.

Eddie’s dad, criminally charming as he was, never strayed from his mom. Never looked at another woman twice. His dad said that was because he had never met a girl like his mom before in his life. 

When the Munson’s arrived in Indiana, it was tough. Tougher for outsiders. That was just the way Hawkins always was. Tough as old boots. But thankfully, the Munsons lucked out because the nearest house to theirs was owned by a kind, neighbourly mechanic Widower with an only daughter.

Eddie loved hearing how his Dad’s voice would change when he remembered his mom from their youth. He, his mom and Wayne became fast friends, roaming around Hawkins together. A happy outsider trio, going on adventures, star and cloud gazing together, cannonballing into the lake. He’d recall his mom, Esmerelda, or Em as he liked to call her, was not only fun, but she could shoot better than any he knew. She would have made a great sniper. Plus, she could strip and reassemble a car engine in record time. Only sported a dress for church on Sundays. The rest of her time, she wore pants, a shirt and braces like the rest. Though usually covered with a streak of engine oil, dirt or flour. The cherry on top was just how beautiful she was. Big, piercing green eyes and long, luscious dark waves of hair that bounced around her face as she outran them both through the fields playing tag.

The three of them were thick as thieves, but as they moved into their teens, Al started to peel off into the more real dangerous side of things, which got him kicked out, and that left his Mom and Wayne, still reading stories, and letting their imaginations run riot in the skies above them at the lakeside, or inventing future dream lives for themselves on the tire swing at the Munson’s.

But the day finally came when Al got brought home by the sheriff himself. They banned him from town, so he was plunged back into Wayne and his Mom’s life with a thump. His parents wanted nothing to do with him, so his Mom’s father let him stay in a barn on his land. Though the three spent most of their days together as kids, Al seeing Esmerelda in her everyday home life enabled him to see more sides of her. Not just showing off, being goofy or tough, but kind, careful, generous, and protective. That's when he realised it wasn’t just the friendship he felt for her and decided he should do something about it. So one night, he sent Wayne back to the house for some sodas, which Wayne argued with him over, didn’t want to do at all, nearly ruined the moment, and as soon as he was out of sight. Al made his move. Shuffled closer on a hay bale and kissed her on the cheek, and as he liked to say, the rest is history.

Then he’d turn to Eddie and say, “One day, Eddie, you’re gonna meet a girl, and Cupid is gonna line you up in his sights and pow, it’ll be over for you.” Eddie would be so scared, his dad would chuckle and pull him into his lap, “I’m sorry, son, it’s not that scary, but you’ve got the genes of your mom and me. You’re a hopeless romantic on both sides, but that just means you’ll find your one easily,” he’d tap him on the chest, “Your heart is so full of love it’s gonna shine so bright for them, they’ll see it from miles away.”

Eddie didn’t realise at the time how dysfunctional his family was. When they weren’t arguing, they had the most fun together, but some of the things he thought were games weren’t that at all. They would play the weeks-long hide-and-seek game with his dad, but Eddie mustn’t tell anyone else about it. Otherwise, the game would be over. The scavenger hunts that either they would lay out for his Dad or he and his mom would follow, the prizes always being wads of cash. Or the big box of dress up he and his mom sometimes had to rifle through and take outfits to his dad so he could play too. That was the last game he remembered them playing together.

His dad had told Eddie and his mom that he’d had a vision about work, how something might go wrong. So they were to meet him at a gas station to play pretend. Though Eddie was excited, he couldn’t figure out why his mom was so upset.

His mom had made new outfits, especially for the occasion: a priest, a nun and a choirboy. They parked around the back of the building, already in their costumes, and waited for hours. Until there was a screech of tires, the sounds of yelling and running. His mom had grabbed the brown paper bag and Eddie and ran from the car to the outdoor toilet, and they hid behind the wall. In seconds, his dad appeared with a massive smile on his face, “Look at you, my angels.” he laughed, grabbed the bag, and kissed his mom before disappearing into the toilet.

More cars were pulling up, but there was more yelling and slamming. He even heard someone shouting bad things about his dad until his mom covered his ears with her hands and pulled silly faces at him until he smiled.

Then came the sirens and gunshots. Eddie remembers being so scared until his dad reappeared, “Hey buddy, it’s ok. We’re gonna pretend we’re going to church now. So just put your hands together like when you say your prayers, close your eyes, and we’ll be on our way before you know it.” He beamed a huge toothy grin at him. Eddie could see dark grease in his hair. It almost made it look jet-black. Eddie did as he was told, the other noises continued, but he kept walking until someone lifted him into his seat.

That was the last time he saw his dad. Heard from him a few times and got a couple of things through the post, birthday and Christmas gifts, usually a few months late, but as Wayne would remind him, it’s the thought that counted.

There is something strange in the space between them in the car as they pull up outside the address she’d given them. All the buildings crowded around one another, and looming over them felt like a stark contrast to the feeling within the vehicle.

Wayne kills the engine, “Ed, if you ain’t sure bout this, it’s no trouble at all to drive ya home. I’m going back anyway.” He speaks the words up at the large building.

Eddie does actually think about it, the fear of the unknown creeping up his spine. Then he looks at Wayne. He looks tired, “Yeah,” he replies, trying to hide the crack in his voice, “I’m sure. A fresh start somewhere new, I can be someone else.” He looks up into the night sky as if asking the stars to make it so.

He feels his uncle’s hand on his shoulder, “Eddie,” Wayne’s voice is quiet and full of a soft sadness, “You ain’t gotta be no one else. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with ya. You were just a kid whose life was flipped around. You did the best ya could, son.” Wayne's soulful eyes shine in the darkness.

“I coulda been less trouble,” Eddie says with a sweet half-smile to try and lessen the weight of this conversation, “I coulda been good, made things easier for myself. Coulda not had the sheriff and neighbours knocking at your door.”

“Our door,” Wayne adds and shakes his head, with a huff of acceptance, “Kid, I just want ya to know, I’d take a hundred knocks on our door at any hour, as long as you were there with them. Safe. At home,” Wayne adds, he turns away from Eddie and looks out the window, “The only good thing I ever heard about this city, Ed, was that your mama done well for herself. Everything else was bad news.”

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says cautiously, but the word uncle makes Wayne’s head snap towards him. He’d been calling him Wayne mostly, but when he was little, sick or upset, he used uncle as a small plea for his comfort and support. “I came here to start over. I’m not interested in getting into trouble, joining greaser gangs, or getting into drink or drugs. I just want a chance to see more. Experience more without a brand on my forehead telling everyone I'm different. In Hawkins, I stick out, here there are so many differences no one is gonna notice lil’ ol’ me,” he smiles fondly at his uncle, “I'm gonna write a book and illustrate it, and when I make my fortune. I'm gonna come get you outta Hawkins, and me, you, mama, and pa are gonna live somewhere so grand.” His dreams widen his smile at Wayne, who offers a slight shrug of a smile back.

“Well, I ain’t never been one to stand in the way of anyone's dreams, so I reckon we better get up there before your mama falls fast asleep,” Wayne gets out of the car and gets Eddie’s cases.

Eddie shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening the door and stepping out into Chicago. 

He inhales deeply again, letting the city saturate his lungs, with all its good and bad. The buildings around here were so vast and gigantic that it made him feel small, but for once, that felt good. He grins up at the lights still flooding the night, some from apartments and restaurants, some from cars driving by, and the faint sound of jazz on the wind whips around the place. 

He walks around and takes the cases from Wayne, “I got this old timer,” which puts a genuine smile on Wayne’s face as they make their way to the large brick building.

He could clearly see three floors from the sidewalk, though, on approach, it looked like there might be an attic right at the top and a basement down below. On one side of the building was a set of hard stone steps that bypassed the apartment at street level and went up to the main middle floor he could see.

Eddie halts at the two big main doors like this threshold will tear him asunder, let him leave the old bad boy Eddie behind, and only leave behind the good. He sets down one case, but his hand shakes as he reaches for the handle. Soon, he feels Wayne’s hand on his shoulder again. He turns to look at him, “You got nothing to lose. Home isn’t going anywhere. You can always come back,” Wayne smiles warmly at him, and Eddie takes hold of the handle and opens the door. As he steps into the cold, tiled hallway, he feels the warmth of Wayne’s hand leave him. As he turns, he finds his uncle neatening himself up, Straightening his tie, smoothing down his jacket, and rearranging the flowers in his hand, which were starting to look a little sorry for themselves.

Eddie looks at the numbers on the doors, and it seems they have another floor to get to his mom’s place. Eddie notices on the group of mailboxes as they pass that she hasn’t opted to change her surname, and something about that makes him feel good. Despite their distance and his dad's behaviour, it wasn’t so bad she needed to cut them off entirely.

As they reach the door of her apartment, Eddie’s anxiety takes full hold, he feels his breathing shudder, and the muscles in his back burn with a new tension. He thumbs at the ring on his finger that was a going-away gift from Wayne. He’d found it in a hide on a hunt the day after Eddie told him he wanted to leave and said he thought it was a sign. It was a simple silver signet ring that Eddie had to tape up to fit his slender fingers. He kept it on his index finger so his thumb could easily reach it. The repetitive movement, who gave it to him and the gift sentiment all helped bring him back down to earth a little. He’d been using it the whole way here.

“You know what could be fun? If she sees me first, then I step aside to reveal you? Lord knows I won’t get a word in once she’s got holda ya,” Wayne beams at him, and Eddie nods, in the full knowledge Wayne was gonna take this first step for him.

When Wayne had offered to take care of Eddie, it had been because he’d been left at his grandparents for a spell whilst his mom found her footing in the city. Eddie’s grandparents were the first people he met who branded him bad simply because he was energetic and was born of two delinquents, as they called them. Wayne had told his mom, who moved Eddie to her Dad’s, and everything was fine until he started getting sick. So Wayne worked on vehicles with his Mom’s father, cared for him and Eddie and never complained. Eddie couldn’t be that good, not as good as Christian as Wayne, but he tried. He was kind to people and animals, said his prayers, and helped around the house, but school and that kind of life were too restrictive for his imagination. Wayne plied him with fantasy books and art supplies, and they worked for a while until the differences started showing.

He was supposed to like cowboys, not knights. He was supposed to play soldiers, not sorcerors. 

His Mom came back for his grandpa’s funeral but didn’t stay. She took money and trinkets and left the house, land, and everything else for him and Wayne. That’s how it had been for the last ten years. Just him and Wayne in his Mom’s old house.

The combination of grief and being in opposition with his peers had sparked a rebellion within Eddie. He was supposed to like pop music and country, not blues and rock’n’roll. He was supposed to wear his hair short, but he preferred it longer. He should have had a pick-up. He had a motorcycle. He was a one-man gang for a while, glaring at anyone who gave him a second look, spooking locals with sinister tales until he was othered because he wanted to be. Then, a few others flocked to him, and he had his own mini band of brothers. But they got out of control. It took a few sheriff visits and a near fire to reign Eddie back in and ultimately sparked this decision to move.

Wayne knocks gently on the door, the bouquet of flowers held in front of him more like a shield than a gift. The other hand behind his back reaches for Eddie’s arm. 

“Yeah?” A deep, booming voice rings out from behind the door.

“Uh, apologies, we’re looking for Ms, um, Mrs Munson. Must have the wrong place,” Eddie hears the slight tremble in Wayne’s voice and feels his hand grip his arm tighter.

The metallic sound of latches being hurriedly undone fills the hallway, the increase in speed matching Eddie’s heartbeat, until the door is wrenched open and Eddie sucks in a breath in anticipation, but with Wayne in front of him, Eddie doesn't see much at first.

“Wayne!” An excited voice calls out before she leaps into a bear hug squeeze, and Eddie laughs when he hears the faint crunch of the flowers.

“He came?” He hears his mom say in disbelief as Wayne is shoved to the side, and there she is. Older but more beautiful than he remembers.

She’s a small woman, a smirk in the place of a smile, but it radiates joy all the same. On top of her head, her jet black curls are piled on top of one another in an untamed bun, a scarf is neatly folded into a headband of sorts and tied around her head, at the top in a small bow, from under which a set of shorter curls spill out and frame her emerald eyes, rounded nose and delicate jawline.

Her hands reach forward and grab Eddie’s face, and she plants kisses on his cheeks, too many for him to count, leaving them both giggling as she moves her rough hands away and steps back again to get a good look at him, “Oh sweetheart, look at you! You look so grown up with your little suit on,” Her hand raises to her mouth, and Eddie thinks he can see the start of tears brimming, but she quickly averts her eyes to Wayne and waves them inside, “Come in. Come in. I’ll, um, show you to your room so you can drop your bags in,” As she shuts the door behind them, her arm braces around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him in for a side hug, “I can’t believe you’re finally here sweetie, oh my goodness you are gonna love it. Sorry everywhere is a little empty, I um, I only just moved into this apartment from upstairs. Here we are,” she says excitedly, then stops, gives him another squeeze, and gestures into a plain looking room.

The wooden floor is adorned with a mishmash of rugs, there is a single metal framed bed, a desk which he can see has been stocked with stationary, a full-length mirror attached to a tall wardrobe, and next to a tall chest of drawers, on top of which sits a record player.

“I didn't wanna do too much. This is your room, so you can decorate it as you like, and I can get rid of anything you don't want or like, don't worry about that. Just wanted you to have what I figured might be essentials.” She releases him and opens up the wardrobe, “I got you a set of towels, and um,” she moves over to the chest of drawers, “Some new socks and underwear. I hope I got the size right. I did try to remember the numbers your uncle gave me,” she smiles, and Eddie begins to see how nervous she is.

“Wow, it's so great. Thank you, Mama, I mean, Mom,” Eddie corrects himself, trying to sound a little more grown up. He puts his cases down by his bed and almost removes his hat before looking nervously at Wayne and then his mom.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” She asks, a little worried, looking between Eddie and Wayne.

“Who else is here?” Eddie asks quietly.

His mom looks at him quizzically, “No one, sweetie. It's just us.”

“But the voice at the door,” he says, pointing back to the hallway.

“Ohhhh,” his Mom says in realisation, cups her hands to her mouth and booms out, “You mean this voice?”

Eddie's shoulders relax, and he nods and laughs, shaking his head.

“Is that what you were worried about, honey?” She asks again, but Eddie shakes his head, unable to find the words.

“Emmie,” Wayne starts and looks at Eddie with a reassuring smile, “The boy doesn't much like the barbers.”

Her worry fades, and she smiles mischievously, gesturing at her hair, “Me neither.”

Eddie carefully removes his bakerboy-style hat that hid his hair and takes the clips out so that his dark waves of hair fall around his face. It’s not long like his mom’s, but it's long enough to reach the top of his shoulders.

His mom lets out a tiny squeal of delight, “Oh my goodness, you look like a little angel. Sorry, I mean, your hair looks very handsome on you, Eddie.”

“I like it this way, but I know it's not what others like. So I keep it tucked away.” Eddie advises.

“Well, no need to do that here, sweetheart,” she beams at him and takes down her hair. This is our home, and you can be yourself here, ok? You’re whole true self,” her eyes dart to Wayne nervously and back to Eddie, “I mean, your Chicago home, you know. Not like your home-home.” She laughs awkwardly, “You know what? I’ll rustle us up a quick supper and leave you boys to it.”

Eddie busies himself unpacking, and Wayne doesn’t speak until his mom’s footsteps fade away. He strolls around the room and looks out of the window, out onto the city.

“Nice view,” he says.

Eddie snorts out a laugh, “Say what you really wanna say, Wayne.”

Wayne turns around and starts picking up the clothes Eddie is laying on the bed and transferring them to the wardrobe hangers or drawers for him, “Just promise me if you wanna come home, you’ll call, ok? Don’t matter the time. I’ll come get ya as soon as I can. It ain’t no failing just ‘cus a place is too much for ya. It’s a big change, Ed, and you ain’t like ya mama. She’s like a damn rubber ball the way she bounces back from every knockdown.”

“I promise,” Eddie smiles at Wayne’s protectiveness, “Maybe you can’t see it, but maybe in a bigger place, I won’t stick out so much? I’ll stand a better chance slipping under the radar here than I did in Hawkins.” 

Wayne hums in that grumbly fashion he does when he knows he has to agree with Eddie but doesn’t want to.

“Let me just try, and I promise, I won’t hesitate to call if things start to go wrong,” Eddie reassures him.

Wayne tilts his head into view to receive the last of his knitted jumpers, “Even if that’s tomorrow?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and laughs, “Even if that’s tomorrow.” 

Once all the clothes are away, they sit together around the kitchen table and demolish the plate of sandwiches between them. Eye-opening stories for each of them, some about baby Eddie, some about his mom and Wayne’s adventures, some tales from Wayne about older Eddie’s misadventures, and even some about his Mom starting out in the city. They laugh and share fond smiles until his Mom lets out a yawn, “I’m so sorry, I’ve been up since five this morning,”

“Sorry, Darlin’, I didn't realise the time. I should get goin’,” Wayne says as his eyes nervously dart to Eddie before focusing back on cleaning away the dishes.

“Now, Wayne, you haven't gotta do that, it’s fine!” “I won’t hear non’ a that. You made the food. I can sort the dishes before I head off,” Wayne says, collecting the plates.

Eddie watches his Mom play nervously with the hem of her shirt, “You know, Wayne, it’s kinda late. You could stay if you want to? I’ve got a camp bed or the sofa. You can take my room,”

“Absolutely not! It's Eddie’s first day in the city tomorrow, and he don’t need a shadow. Needs to make his own way,” Wayne says, clearing his throat afterwards.

Eddie feels that familiar nervous swirling in his stomach as he realises he hadn't spent more than the occasional sleepover or overnight camping trip away from Wayne in the last ten years. 

This was really it.

Suddenly, he felt lost, like he was drifting away from his mooring into the unchartered waters. Nausea was a very real and present sensation. Eddie quickly gets out of his seat to help Wayne with the dishes. He stands shoulder to shoulder with him, sending him an occasional smile while humming one of Wayne’s favourite songs.

Before they know it, the dishes are done, and all that is left is goodbye.

“Don’t wave me off. Stay up here, get a cocoa in ya, and off to bed. That's an order for both of ya,” Wayne tries to joke, but Eddie can hear a slight tremble in his voice, “So um, if anything, call me, ok, doesn’t matter what it is, like I said-”

Eddie pulls him in tight for a tight squeeze as he bites back his tears against Wayne’s shoulder, “Gonna miss you,” Is all Eddie can manage.

“I’m gonna miss you like crazy, son.” He squeezes him back harder, “And speaks into his hair, “And if anything happens to you out here, you have my solemn vow, I’ll raze Hawkins to the ground, cus it’s that stupid fuckin’ town that took you away. I’ll give them hell until the end of my days.” 

“He’s gonna be ok, Wayne. I promise,” Eddie hears his mom attempt to reassure him.

His uncle squeezes him tightly one more time, pats him on the shoulders, and moves back to look at him, tears in both their eyes. Wayne swallows and wipes his eyes before turning to his mom, “Emmie, it was good to see ya. Uh. See ya later, Ed,” he says, shakes his hand, nods his goodbye to him, and leaves.

Eddie rushes to the window of his room. In the dark, he finally lets his tears fall as he watches his weeping uncle drive away.

“Gotcha, that cocoa, you’re uncle suggested, pretty plain, I’m afraid. Tomorrow, I’ll pick up some marshmallows.” he hears her set the mugs down, “May I?” She asks, and Eddie only weakly nods as he finds himself crying in his mother's arms for the first time in eleven years.

Eddie didn’t sleep well that night; he was not used to the noise, and his worries wouldn’t let him rest even if it were as quiet as back home.

He lays awake in bed, waiting to hear his Mom get up. He checks his watch, gives her five minutes, and then joins her.

“Morning Sweetheart, want some coffee?” He hears her call out as he walks to the bathroom.

“Yeah, that would be great, thank you,” he rolls his eyes a little at himself at how formal he’s being, but he’s just trying to be polite.

He makes his way to the kitchen and finds not just a coffee but a plate of scrambled eggs, too.

“You still like eggs, right?” She asks with an awkward smile.

Eddie nods happily, “Yeah. I do. Thank you.” He tucks his pajamaed self in by shuffling his chair forward with a squeak against the floor, and he instinctively winces, “Sorry.” He glances slightly up at her from the corner of his eye. She’s probably regretting this already.

She moves from the counter and sits beside him, “Hey, you didn't do anything wrong. You’re fine, honestly.” He raises his eyes to her piercing green ones, and she gives him that sweet smile of hers, “Listen, sweetheart, I get we don’t know one another too well. That’s on me. I love you, always have, and always will. Even though maybe I didn’t show it in all the ways a mother should,” she cautiously reaches her hand over his, and he pushes his hand into hers, “But I want to get to know you, as you are. Wayne filled me in on a lot, and I just want to repeat, this is our, um, Chicago home, right? And behind this door, you are one hundred per cent okay to be one hundred per cent yourself, even if you can’t do it out there. I know I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Eddie says, and he realises his voice sounds small, unlike the eighteen-year-old man he’s supposed to be.

“No way. Are you kidding me?” she laughs, “I’ve built myself from nothing here. I can do the jobs I wanna do. Manual work that doesn’t involve putting on a full face of makeup or putting up with sleazy guys. Sorry, too much. Uh. What I’m trying to say is if I acted my true, daydreaming, singing, ditzy self out there, even though I do every job I take on extremely well, no one would take me seriously. I wouldn’t be a person to call for people that live around here. I wouldn’t have been trusted to take on maintenance for this building and get this bigger apartment,” she squeezes his arm and softens her voice, “but when I step through that door. I drop all those masks. I’d go crazy if I didn’t,” she smiles at him, “and I don’t need a crazy man in my home. So just be yourself, sweetheart. Wayne has filled me in on some things you’re dealing with, but I won’t make you talk about them unless you want to. I know you want a fresh start. Just like I did when I got here, I want this home to be your springboard to your dreams, Eddie. Everyone deserves to try.”

Something about that sets Eddie more at ease, “Got it, M-mom,” he corrects, and she raises an eyebrow at him, “Mama.” He says with a happy smile, and she nods.

“Better?” She asks.

“Yeah,” he says as he moves his hand on top of hers and squeezes it, kissing her on the cheek, “Tons better,” he says, picking up his cutlery to eat. Against his better judgement, he eats exactly as he would at home, pretty much inhaling the food on the plate, as his Mom laughs and gets up to pour another coffee for herself.

“So I got a few jobs to do today. I know you said you didn’t want me chaperoning and wanted to discover the place for yourself, but I also promised Wayne I’d keep you safe, and obviously, I want that, too. So, I thought maybe you could do some shopping for me, stick to the area. I’ve even put the names of the stores down for you. When you’re done, if you want to roam around, don’t stray too far from Taylor Street, ok. That’s the kind of hub of this area, and it’s the community I know,”

“Yeah, I read about that. Is it just all Italians ‘round here then? Because of the name,” Eddie asks, finishing his last mouthful and picking up his coffee.

“No, not really. There are people from all over. Well, at one point in their family tree, but most of the people your age around here are born and bred in Chicago. It’s fascinating, really. You’re gonna have tons more things to inspire you here,” She smiles and pushes him over a piece of note paper with some money, “Feel free to grab yourself some lunch out of that too. Keep the change for yourself. Don’t wanna deprive my little wordsmith of anything,” She smiles at him in a way he’s seen before somewhere in his distant memories and something that reminds him of Wayne. She’s proud of me, he thinks to himself, and that surges him into action. 

He quickly cleans the dishes and gets ready for the day. His Mom kisses him goodbye, leaving him at his desk for a while, pondering out his window. Watching people come and go, he decides to wait an hour or so for it to quieten down. He spends time sketching out some people on the street and the buildings. His mom was right. This place had so much going on it was impossible not to be inspired, and an urge to get amongst it all sweeps over Eddie. He pins up his hair, hiding it under his hat, grabs his satchel, dumping in his art and writing supplies. Rushes into the kitchen to pick up his keys, money and jacket. 

He gives the door a shove to make sure he’s shut it properly, and confident in that, he tries to step away but finds himself yanked back because he’s closed his jacket in there.  Eddie rolls his eyes at his clumsiness and unlocks the door again, releasing his jacket and closing and rechecking it. He takes a breath, starts over, and makes his way down the stairs to the foyer, tips his hat and smiles at his new neighbours as he passes.

It’s not until he steps outside that anyone stops him. 

“Ey! You new around here, ain’t ya?” a deep voice calls out after him. Eddie’s heart is pounding. This is the first person he’s going to officially meet here as the new him. He puts a friendly smile on his face and turns to greet them.

It’s a guy who looks about his age with blond hair, most of which is slicked back in a pompadour style save for a solitary ringlet that fell down his forehead. A cigarette limply hangs from his lips as he mirrors Eddie's smile and uses his shoulder to push himself from the wall he is leaning against.

“Morning,” Eddie chirps back, “Yeah, uh, just got here last night.”

“Oh really?” He tilts his head and looks Eddie over, “Huh.” He steps forward and grabs Eddie’s satchel.

Eddie feels immediately flustered by the intrusion and how quickly this guy got into his space. He tries to laugh it off, “Hey, easy there,” he says, tugging his bag back and taking a few steps down the staircase from the man.

“Easy there,” he mimics and laughs, “You one of those squares from the university?”

Eddie tries to smile again, even though he can feel his old self just beneath the surface, ready to knock out this guy’s teeth. It must have been some sort of dumb prank, “No, I just wanted to try the city out.”

“Oh, you’re a hick?” The guy asks, narrowing his eyes. His grin grows to something sly as if he knows he’s pushing Eddie’s buttons. He jumps down to the step Eddie is on with a thud, takes a long draw on his cigarette, and blows the smoke in Eddie’s face. Eddie waves it away with his hand, making him throw back his head and laugh.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, repressing the urge to retaliate, turns his glare away and starts down the stairs again.

“Hey! I’m not done talking to you!” He shouts after Eddie.

“Oh, I think we’re done here, buddy,” Eddie waves back with a forced laugh.

”Was that your old man last night? Crying in his car like a little bitch?” He shouts louder after Eddie.

That does it. Eddie wipes his hand down his lower face to contain the bubbling rage within him. No one talks about Wayne like that. Not this fucker, not anyone. 

What he wouldn’t give to be able to launch himself back up these stairs and send that dick crashing down them with his fist. But he’s not gonna let this asshole ruin his new start.

He turns back and looks up at him. “Ah, there he is,” the guy says with a weird sort of relief and a satisfied grin.

“You know, friend, maybe you shouldn’t be peering in the car windows or old men at night. You’ll get yourself a reputation,” Eddie shouts back at him and watches the guy’s face drop as a passing group of kids giggle at him.

Eddie smirks up at him and sends him a wink before continuing his day, leaving him standing dumbly on the staircase. 

This place was incredible. Eddie gets most of what his mom has asked for on the list from the locations on the small map she drew him. The grocery shop was the place nearest home and looked like the heaviest order, so he’d save that for last.

He circles back and drops in the light bulbs and various cleaning stuffs, and as it’s nice out, instead of staying cooped up inside, he decides to sit on the stairs and sketch some of the scenes around him as he munches on the sandwich from the deli.

He spots a group of girls over by a bench. Two are sitting down. One a light brown Italian-style haircut, like Sophia Loren, her big blue eyes bore into the pages of the book she's reading. Beside her is another girl trying to get something out of her light, mousy brown hair. Though their purposes seem different, they seem to be conversing, and the third, a girl with red hair, has decided to pretend the kerb is a tightrope and keeps her balance walking along it.

Eddie smiles to himself and gets to drawing. He should be trying to think of a main character for his story and draw that, but the inspiration hasn’t hit him yet. This place has too much he wants to capture. Maybe he should see if his mom has a camera or something.

Lost in the piece's details, he overlooks the shadow looming over him, and he’s too late to grab his sketch pad as it is snatched away from his lap. 

“Hey!” Eddie shouts and tries to grab it back, but the problem quickly becomes evident. It's the guy from earlier, only he has two other guys with him this time.

“Geez, what even is this shit,” he sneers at Eddie's drawing and shows it to his friends, who laugh along with him.

Eddie is so over this bullshit already, “Ok, you don’t like it. Fine. Just give it back, ok? And I’ll get away from your stairs, or whatever it is that's making you so upset,” he sighs and extends his hand towards him.

The blonde glares right into his eyes. He licks his teeth and spits on the ground before looking back at Eddie. A sinister smile spreads over his face again as he holds the pad aloft and turns his attention to the girls, “Hey! Ladies! Did you know you were all being perved on by some creep?” he yells over to them.

Eddie springs into panic, waving his hands in front of him. “Oh my god, no. It's not like that at all. I swear,” he frantically pleads with them as they frown at him and walk away, leaving the guys cackling amongst themselves. Great. Day one, and he’s already a fucking creep. What the fuck was this guy’s problem, anyway.

The guy plucks the cigarette out of the freckled boy's mouth and stubs it out on Eddie’s sketch pad, “Oops, better put that out, hadn’t I?” he drops the pad to the steps, stomps on it, grinds his boot into the pages and kicks it over to Eddie.

Eddie’s blood is boiling with rage, but he also feels like he could erupt into tears simultaneously. This was absolutely fucking ridiculous. Why couldn’t he just have this chance? Maybe he’d been so bad all the gods and the universe decided he doesn't get a do-over, and he has to pay for all the trouble he caused.

He looks at the trio and wonders if this is how Hawkins saw him and his gang. A cloud of terror just drifting to cause trouble and leave. Though Eddie never bullied anyone, he did annoy most businesses in town with his antics.

He picks up the pad and dusts it off, putting it in his bag, and he’s about to walk away, but he just can’t help himself. He turns back, eyes this dickhead with absolute disgust, “What is your problem with me anyway? I just got here. I’m not looking for trouble or trying to muscle in on anything you’ve got going on,”

They laugh, and the freckled one smirks, “How the fuck could you muscle in on anythin’? Look atcha. Nothing but an itty bitty weakling,” he jeers.

The one with shorter, cropped blond hair and narrow, icy blue eyes mimics him, “What's your problem with me anyway?” 

The main guy has a satisfied smirk, “I’ll tell you what the problem is,” he says, grabbing Eddie by the shirt and pulling him in close, but Eddie doesn't cower and does not retaliate, just coldly stares right back at him. 

The guy looks Eddie’s face up and down. Like a closer inspection, now he's only inches away from it, “My problem is, I don’t like creeps on my block,” then he leans in to whisper in Eddie’s ear, “And also…I know what you are…Freak!”

Eddie’s stomach churns at the thought of what this guy could have already deciphered about him so quickly. Could he just be talking about the drawings, that he wasn't from here, or he wasn’t dressed right?

He jolts backwards out of his grip as the guy smugly tilts his chin in the air, the victor.

Not wanting to add to today's problems, Eddie simply gathers his things and decides to get the groceries.

The group blocks his path down the stairs, saying, “I’ve got things to do. So if you kindly let me pass, I can be on my way,”

“Don't be too long, now. We’ll be here waiting for when you get back,” the main stocky guy teases.

Eddie hurriedly bustles his way past them, briskly walking away, and doesn't look back. Not even once, as his pulse thunders in his ears. The city seems to swell and contract as the anxiety starts to weave its way into him, and he might have walked right on by the grocery store if not for the uneven sidewalk.

He manages to get his hands in front of him, preventing his face from meeting the pavement and scrambles to his feet.

“What? Not even a postcard?” A thick Chicago accent rings out. Eddie starts to feel the defensiveness rise in him. He’s going to give this joker a piece of his mind. It's only his first day here, and already, it's going to hell. It's a stupid joke, anyway, which makes no sense at all because he didn't trip. He fell. Couldn’t this moron even see that? He dusts off his new clothes and notices a small tear in the knee. And that might be the final straw. Eddie screws up his face in rage. Fists clenched at his sides, one finger extended, ready to point right at this guy.

“No! Not even-” Eddie begins angrily as he turns to the voice. But all language and oxygen leave him, and all he can do is take one gulp of an inhale like a human goldfish.

Standing in front of Eddie right now is something he can barely comprehend. A miracle has occurred, and it doesn't seem like the rest of the world has noticed because it's carrying on like this isn’t even happening. He can vaguely hear the cars and the shouts of others, but they are all starting to dwindle. It was like someone was turning the volume down on planet Earth, and all he could hear was his own heartbeat and breathing.

Then, almost like a vignette is placed over his vision, blurring and darkening the edges, he can only focus on one thing.

The man of Eddie’s dreams.

Physically, at least.

He is right there.

Like the great animators in the sky plucked him out of his mind and drew him into existence.

Had he not put his hand out in time? Was he, in reality, currently knocked out by the fall, and that's why he can see this guy now?

He’s about the same height as Eddie. His hair is neatly cropped, not shoved away and hidden under a hat like his own. It’s side-parted, with a perfect swoop of brown, neatly combed and styled hair. Save for a few strands that hang over his forehead, rebelling against the pomade. His light brown eyes are shaped with a slight slope downwards, giving them a natural, hooded, adorable sadness, just like Elvis himself. But these are larger, which made them infinitely easier to get lost in. But there isn’t an ounce of sadness in the rest of that face as a cocky open-mouthed smile spreads across it. Tucked in the corner of his lips is a toothpick that rolls, as his tongue is idly toying with from inside his mouth as he looks Eddie up and down. 

Then there are those rose-blushed lips of his. They looked so soft, in direct opposition with the perfectly chiselled jaw they rested above. And all of this with a backdrop of olive skin littered with beauty marks. As if this guy needed any more indicators of how beautiful he was. Jesus.

Eddie dares to give him a rapid look up and down, and it is also awful news because not only did they give him the face of an angel, but they had to provide him with a body that would launch a million classical sculptors across all time into action. His shoulders are broad and sit atop two very pleasantly muscular arms. The white cotton t-shirt embraces them, one tighter than the other as it's rolled a little higher to hold his pack of smokes. The fabric stretches over his chest to reveal the mounds and dips of an anatomical landscape that Eddie is sure he would happily sit and admire for longer than any national landmark this fair country had to offer. Then the killing blow by this everyday garment is struck by how it falls and clings to his stomach, revealing he’s even got a slightly soft tummy. Eddie is starting to feel light-headed. This cannot be real.

Then Eddie notices something else, he’s wearing an apron, and in his arms is a crate of apples. He fucking works here. Oh god. Oh, god, no! Eddie starts to feel like he's overheating, and he’s eyelids flutter unintentionally.

“You ok dere, buddy?” The man’s smile and amusement take an eighty per cent plummet as they look over Eddie with concern.

He’s overwhelmed by everything happening right now, the whole day of mistakes leading up to it, questioning if it was even the right choice to come to the city in the first place. If all of these things were glaring warning signs, pointing him to go back home to Hawkins, stop chasing stupid dreams, and get a job with his Uncle Wayne at the factory. And this…this man at his local store of all places spelt trouble for him. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t good at hiding his thoughts or feelings. 

That was it decided. He would turn around now, go pack, and go home. This was a stupid idea. Eddie feels a tightness across his shoulders start to spread, his palms heat up, and he realises he’s been staring into space for the last few seconds. 

He tries to run, but his legs suddenly feel like lead, and though he’s stopped, the world spins around a few more times. Instead of the street being in his eye line, the horizon starts to fall, and all he can see is the sky before he feels his back hit something, but it's not hard like the ground. Soon, the horizon returns, as does the street and the face of an angel, moving him to sit on the ground outside the store, next to a pyramid of oranges.

“I need ya to sit right here, ok buddy. I’m gonna get ya some water, alright?” the angel’s mouth moves, and Eddie watches it seriously to make sure he can hear every one of his precious words.

He pats him on the shoulders, steps toward the store door, and pauses before looking back and tilting his head, “What's ya name?”

He is still a little dizzy, but he knows the answer to that question, “Eddie.” he replies quickly. 

The man smiles hugely and repeats his name like he’s testing it out. He places his toothpick behind his ear, “I’m Stefano, yous can call me Steve. Most do,” he gives him a little two-finger wave and disappears inside the store.

Eddie nods a dopey smile of thanks and then tries to take in his surroundings but nearly snaps his neck, looking back just as the guy goes through the door. Holy heck. Turns out it wasn’t just the front of this guy that was stunning. Eddie blows out a breath and stares at the ground. Yeah, this was bad, very bad. He needed to get his things and go home. Maybe getting knocked out by three guys might be slightly less painful than what this situation could be.

Eddie wobbles to his feet and walks to his bag and drawing equipment strewn across the sidewalk.

“EY! I thought I told you to sit right ‘dere?” Steve orders with a loud authority, and there is a clatter of something wooden.

“I’m fine, really,” Eddie says quickly, avoiding looking at him.

“You ain’t fine, buddy. You near hit da deck twice!” Steve says, grabbing his elbow and pulling him back towards the store. Eddie’s eyes turn to him again, and he feels all resistance leave him entirely and is seated on an upturned wooden container. Eddie notices that Steve has made a makeshift table and two chairs entirely out of crates. 

He can’t resist looking back over at him as he bends over to pick up Eddie’s things from the ground, and an internal battle rages as Eddie has to force himself to look elsewhere. This guy had been kind, so far anyway, so it wasn’t right to gawk at him, and also, Eddie shouldn’t be ogling guys. That was a one-way ticket to getting your head kicked in town.

Eddie’s stomach drops as he sees Steve stand and observe the sketch pad as he walks back over to him, “Oh…er… it's not what you think. I swear,” Eddie quickly defends.

“What? That you ain’t an artist?” Steve looks up at him, confused.

“No, well, kinda. I men. Fuck. I mean, “ As Steve’s eyes meet his own with a smirk, he gets lost in his eyes again, “Shit, I don't know what I mean.” He says finally with what he is sure is the dopiest, enamoured smile on his face.

Steve sits on the crate opposite him and hands him back his things apart from the pad he’s still observing. Eddie follows his eyes as they trail over the paper and watches his beautiful long lashes bat as he blinks. He vows to draw them all night until he has a perfect version and then hide it in an old tome in the national library so they’ll never be forgotten by time.

“OK, first, your soda. Hope dats alright. I thought yous might need the sugar,” he turns and whacks the cap off the bottle against the store window ledge. The muscles in his arm visibly flex as he does so and offers it over to Eddie, who accepts it gratefully and quickly diverts his eyes to the bottle itself.

For a second, Eddie's fingers brush against Steve’s, making the skin tingle like there is static between them, and he finds himself avoiding his eyes again as he drinks.

Eddie has not been shy since he can remember. He’s an all-singing, all-dancing, one-man vaudeville extravaganza, and he was trying to be a quieter, more reflective version of himself, but he wasn’t trying to be shy. But this guy made him feel goofy. Like someone had injected him with pure intoxication. Eddie knows he should stop biting the inside of his lip and stop staring, but he feels like it’s out of his control. The universe had put this heavenly body in Levis before him, and what was he supposed to do? Reject the gift? Force his way out of its orbit? No, but he didn’t want to repay the guy's kindness with his weird staring, so he kept trying to focus on other things. Anything that might save him from the flawless man realising he was appreciating him in a more than friendly way.

Eddie figures he must be doing an okay job. The guy hasn’t exhibited any of the usual aggressive tells Eddie had learned in Hawkins. When you're eager for a kiss or to dodge a fist, you learn to be observant of that shit quickly.

Steve tilts his head into his eye line, and once he has his attention, he moves it back to upright and smiles and asks, “Now I got a coupla questions, alright witcha?” Eddie nods in agreement as his eyes obediently follow him, as does the same smile he can’t seem to wipe from his face.

“You don’t sound like yous from here. You lost?” He asks.

Eddie shakes his head, “Nah, not lost. Not at all,” he means that he feels found when Steve looks at him, “But I did only get here last night,” Eddie offers up freely, and part of his brain is too slow to protest the fact he shouldn’t be telling a stranger more than they ask for.

Steve’s smile widens, “Dat makes sense,” Eddie watches his fingers trail over the paper where the cigarette has burned the pages, and a fresh feeling of embarrassment floods him. He could have taken the three of them. This guy sure wasn’t going to be impressed when he found out he’d effectively run away.

“It does?” Eddie asks, suddenly eager to have Steve look at him again.

“Yeah. I ain’t seen you before. Woulda remembered,” Steve sends him a charming boyish smile as the toothpick in his mouth moves from one side of his mouth to the other, “So, uh-“ he starts but is quickly interrupted.

“STEFANO!! ‘Owa, long is it gonna take for yous to finish the apples, eh? We’ll have a whole orchard ina here beforea you’re done. Amonini!” A woman’s voice rings out loud and clear, bursting the dreamy bubble Eddie was sitting in.

He looks over for Steve’s reaction. His eyes are wide, and a faint blush hits his cheeks and jaw, “‘Scuse me, Eddie,” he pockets Eddie’s pad in his apron and returns to the crate of apples Eddie had seen him carrying. He sets it out on the sloped display and is about to sit back down when he’s stopped in his tracks again.

“Stefano!! Why you no answer me?” The woman’s voice calls out again, annoyed and getting closer. Eddie watches Steve close his eyes slowly and slams down the second crate.

“IM DOIN’ IT, MA!” He yells back at the top of his lungs, goes back inside and re-emerges with another few crates piled up on top of one another.

“Urgh dissa boy, I swear. STEFANO!” Eddie hears the woman very clearly now, even though she isn’t shouting, and he looks up to see an open window she must be upstairs.

“MA! I'M DOING IT ALREADY!” Steve yells back, his beautiful brow frowns petulantly as he roughly shoves the crates into the display in an adorable little tantrum.

“Why you take-a so long? Huh?”

“Ma! I just fucking stepped foot out here! Gimme a fuckin’ chance! I’m only one man! Jesus!” 

“STEFANO EMILIO HARRINGTON, Don-na tell me you takin’ Jesus’ name in vain,” her voice travels around the place until Eddie hears the sound of footsteps and the ring of the bell as the door is yanked open. A woman’s face emerges. Initially, she looks furious, “Listen to how my son talks to me. You heara dat? What kinda terrible mother have I been to deserve that? Oh, the worst!” It feels like she says it to Eddie, but her words could have been for anyone in earshot.

Eddie's eyes turn to Steve, who, though now quite red in the face, probably from carrying all those crates around, is having some kind of absolutely silent conversation with his mother. It was the complete opposite of the yelling match they were just having. They gesture their hands in pointed, stern ways at first. Fingers pinched together, their eyes and faces express some kind of disagreement that soon dissolves to calm, and his mother’s eyes turn to Eddie for a second before she turns back to Steve and drags her thumb down her cheek with a big smile at him. He shrugs and looks a little bashful. She nods and goes back inside.

He watches Steve take a deep breath, and he walks over to sit back down on his crate seat, “Sorry ‘bout dat. So, uh, are you an artist den?” He pulls the pad back out and places it between them.

The sudden intrusion of Steve’s mom seems to give Eddie some of the English language back, “ I, um, yeah, I like to draw, but I wanna write,” he says and takes a swig of his drink immediately after speaking, to prevent himself from waffling too much.

“Oh, like for da paper?”

“Uh, well, maybe,” Eddie cannot bring himself to tell this beautiful being he’s wrong, “But books mostly. Stories and things like that,” now he feels that shyness again. Sometimes, it feels dumb to talk about his dreams out loud. Steve probably thinks he’s an idiot without a real job, but there isn’t a crumb of negativity on Steve’s face, just a broad smile.

“O’ course, you write stories and draw. Course ya do,” he says with a happy shake of his head, “Well ya know, if, er, yeah, I can always put a word in for you at da paper. I knowaguy,” Steve offers kindly, and Eddie can feel himself falling in love with how he talks with every word he says, on top of how kind and beautiful he is.

“Gee, that’d be swell,” Eddie says, unable to hide his gigantic grin.

Steve taps his finger on the pad, “I think. I might know these girls,” though Steve says it with a smile, Eddie freezes. Worried this man’s initial kindness was going to sour quickly now. He probably thinks the same as the guy outside his building. He feels such an idiot for drawing it in the first place, but he doesn’t see anything wrong in it because, for starters, one was an actual child, and the other two were beautiful. He could see that, but the same way he’d feel about a sunset or a lovely tree, not beautiful like attraction, not like he felt about Steve, but he couldn’t just tell someone that, so he plays along.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie keeps it short and tries not to make this worse than it needs to be.

“Yeah, dis one with da book. ‘Dats Nancy, she used to be my girl,” Steve says, not taking his eyes from the pad. Eddie's space rocket of impossible dreams explodes before it even leaves the stratosphere and sends his stomach plummeting. What did he expect, though, really? Steve’s finger moves across the paper, and he taps the heads of the other two girls, “Deez two, my sisters.” Shit. Eddie feels the need to run. This guy is gonna flip out any minute and probably crush his head like a melon between two of these wooden crates. But both through fear and the fact that Steve raises his soulful brown eyes to meet his, he stays put.

He knows he should say something, but he’s struggling to find the right watertight words and has no chance of being misunderstood. But he can’t think straight when he can see almost every small pigment detail in Steve’s eyes and presses his lips together, afraid he might just say something about them instead.

A loud slam of a car door pushes a word out of Eddie, “B-beautiful,” he blurts out.

“Oh,” Steve replies and pushes the pad over to Eddie. The smile fades from his lips, and Eddie hates it, so he just lets his motormouth let rip.

“The scene. I mean. The scene was beautiful. Not the girls. I mean, yes, they are beautiful, but I don't mean in that way. They were together but so different, and when I sat down to draw, they were perfectly framed from where I was sitting. I was inspired by them, you know? Like a nice tree or something. Back home is so different from here. All I had to draw sometimes were nice trees. I don’t know why I’m telling you about nice trees. I’m just saying that I didn't mean any harm. I know better now. I won’t do it again. I swear. This city has plenty more things that are inspiring. I just thought they looked kinda like if a personality was a group of people. I thought that fit this place because it's a huge mixture of cultures, sounds, and sights.”

Steve’s eyes don’t leave Eddie’s, “Da girl holdin’ the book. Dat’s Nancy. We used to date a while back. She’s real smart. I reckon yous two would get along real well. I could introduce ya if you want?”

“Oh god, no!” Eddie says way too quickly, with a laugh, “I mean, no, thank you. I’m not looking for a girl. I mean, I’m not looking to date right now. But thank you.” he awkwardly recovers as quickly as he can. Well, at least hopes he has. He thinks maybe he’s slightly successful as Steve leans forward a little to rest his chin on his fist, and a smile reappears.

“You know, maybe you could do it from here next time you wanna draw or write? ‘Deres normally a table, but I had to take it inside to fix somethin’ on it,” Eddie glimpses through the window of the store and quite clearly can see two elderly gentlemen playing checkers on it, “It’d be nice to have a creative type use it, prob’ly attract more people like ‘dat. If you wan’ I mean,” he says kindly.

Eddie can’t believe his luck. Yeah, sure, today had started off a complete mess, but now he had a movie-star-looking guy, basically saying, spend time with me every day, doing what you love. If it wasn’t for how Steve flips the toothpick around in his mouth, Eddie would have been completely lost in his eyes and swooned clear off the crate in front of him.

“Gosh, that's really kind of you. When are you usually here? Every day?” Eddie asks, maybe a little too enthusiastically, which makes Steve laugh, and it might be sweeter than morning birdsong to Eddie’s ears.

“Well-” Steve starts but is interrupted as the bell above the door rings again.

His mom emerges with a tray of coffee and tiny cups. This time, Eddie jumps to his feet to introduce himself properly and not just sit and stare. He quickly neatens up his clothes and clumsily tries to angle his leg, so it hides the tear in his pants. He almost laughs at his eagerness to impress her. He supposes he is new and wants to make a good impression, but he knows it's more than that. He knows that his fantasy brain is running away with him again, trying to impress the object of his affection’s mother. Like this could ever be a thing.

The small woman has beautifully coiffed dark brown hair, and her eyes look just the same as Steve’s, except her’s are expertly lined with makeup. She beams at Eddie as she sets the tray on the crate, which wobbles, and Steve rushes inside the store momentarily. Leaving Eddie and his mom smiling awkwardly at one another for a moment. Eddie can hear some raised voices but can’t make out any of the words the raised voices are exchanging and figures they must be talking in Italian. The two elderly men from inside emerge, grumbling. One with the checkerboard under his arm storms out first, followed by a second, who flicks his hand under his chin at Steve, who laughs and yells after them, “Well, if yous two ordered more dan a biscotti to share every day, den maybe you’d keep the table!” he shakes his head, “Fuckin’ stunad,”

“Stefano!” his mom reprimands him as he exchanges the crates for actual furniture. He seats his mom first as if that doesn't make Eddie’s heart beat faster with how sweet he is. He looks at Eddie and then down at the tray, and for a second, Eddie can’t do anything except look back like he’s hypnotised or something, but his mom coughs daintily, and Eddie realises what he needs to do and lifts the tray, as Steve swaps in a small table, and goes rushes back into the store and virtually jumps down the steps on his return, puts a chair one side of his mom, and then walks around to where Eddie and set down the last chair.

“Ma, dis is Eddie,” Steve whacks him hard on the back, and Eddie has to pinch his lips together in a smile to stop the oof from being expelled from them, from the sheer force of it, “He’s gonna be a big shot writer, ain’t dat right, Ed?”

Eddie dared not look at Steve right now. He was so close he felt the breath that contained his abbreviated name against his cheek. He keeps his eyes on Steve’s mom and offers an upturned hand towards her. She looks at him strangely but obliges him, putting her hand in his, and he kisses the back of it.

“A pleasure to meet you. I’m sure gonna try to make it at least,” he smiles back as she raises an eyebrow at Steve with an impressed face, and Eddie feels like this is his first shoot and success of the day.

But he’s not ready for feeling Steve’s warm hand slide against the small of his back as he guides him down into his chair and tucks it in for him, “Dere you go, much better, right?” Steve says happily as he returns to his own seat, and Eddie’s eyes obediently follow him all the way there, but when Steve’s eyes catch his again, he quickly looks away.

“You look, uh, wassa the word, similar,” his mom says, pulling his attention from the mosaic pattern on the tiny cups and saucers.

“It’s familiar, Ma,” Steve corrects, gently pouring the coffee into the cups from an odd-looking contraption.

“Ah, yeah, familiar,” she moves a finger quickly in front of her face, “Your eyes.”

“Oh, maybe you know my Mama, I mean mom,” Eddie says, quickly correcting himself again, but Steve and his mom exchange a happy look with one another and then back at Eddie, so he figures maybe they at least found it amusing rather than stupid.

“What's her name?” Steve asks, passing a tiny cup and saucer to his mom first and then to Eddie.

“Esmerelda,” Eddie tries, but two blank faces look back at him, “Uh, Esmerelda Munson, she lives right over there,” Eddie points out the building as he turns behind him.

The clatter of a teaspoon makes him spin around quickly to two now stunned faces.

“You're dat Eddie? Mrs Munson’s boy?” Steve asks hurriedly. 

Though the fear swirls in his gut that maybe his reputation might have preceded him, he’s in too deep to lie, “Yeah, you know her?” he says, swallowing nervously.

Steve’s mom claps her hands together, holds them up to her mouth like she's in prayer, and looks up to the canopy above them with a big smile.

“We sure do,” Steve grins, “She helped us out a lot when Pa passed. She’s a real kind lady.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. That must be difficult,” Eddie adds somberly as he watches how Steve drinks from the small cup and saucer and copies him. He understands immediately why this stuff is sipped and is in such tiny cups. It's much richer than regular coffee, almost thicker, and sweet too. It's delicious. Eddie can’t help himself and takes another sip immediately and lets out an involuntary sound of appreciation before setting down his cup.

“Si, a real, uh, ball-busta,” Steve's mom says happily.

Eddie nearly chokes on thin air as Steve complains, “Ma! Jesus! You don’t say that!” but Eddie can’t help laughing.

“Yeah, I guess she is a bit,” he beams at Steve’s mom, who pats pinches his cheek.

“Biddicchiu,” she laughs with him as Steve passes her the sketch pad and juts his thumb towards Eddie. Her eyes scan over the paper.

“I said Ed was welcome to work from here if he wants,” Steve says, “Hope dats ok?”

His mom nods, then gestures to the cigarette burn on the paper and the scuff marks. She speaks to Steve in Italian. Eddie guesses that because he can’t understand much, but he recognises her anger when she points her hand sharply at Eddie’s building, frowns deeply, and taps her temple. Eddie stays quiet and watches Steve reassure her.

“Can I have dissa one?” she says, gesturing at Eddie’s drawing.

“Yeah, but I can draw you a better one than that, on nicer-” Eddie starts, but she has already torn out the paper and folded it away in her own apron pocket.

“Ma says you’re welcome here anytime,” Steve smiles at him. Eddie is pretty sure there is more to what his mom said than that, but he doesn't want to press it, “We live just above here, so, uh, it dont matter what da time is, you know? One-a us’ll be here.” 

“Thank you, that's real kind,” Eddie says politely.

Steve's mom grips Eddie’s shoulder, looking at him seriously, “Listen to me, don-a talk widda, those boys over there. They no good. You come here, we not mucha further. Then your mama, no worry,” Eddie nods, and her red lipstick smile adorns her face again, “Besides, we gotta good food, better coffee, and a much nicer view, uh?” Eddie follows her eyes to Steve, who is blushing. Maybe he’s a bit embarrassed because he’s also had a run-in with those guys.

“Yeah, much better,” Eddie agrees, and Steve’s mom pats his cheek.

“Smart boy,” she says happily and looks up at Eddie’s building again, “I think deeza buildings so close you could see Stefano’s window from yours,” Eddie has no idea why she’s blessing him with this information, but his brain rapidly works out that he could probably see it from his own bedroom.

“MA!” Steve says in alarm and nudges her, then hurriedly clears up the tray as she lets out a melodic laugh, clutching her sides. Her eyes trail after him as he goes inside.

She turns back to Eddie, “My boy, he's good. Make you-a good friend. Yes?” She asks and puts a finger to her cheek and twists it around. She looks encouragingly at him, “You like?” She repeats the gesture against her cheek.

“Yes,” Eddie says enthusiastically. Even though he doesn't just like it here. He loves it here. They’d been so friendly and obviously tried to not think about the other things he liked about here.

“Si,” She says, takes Eddie's hand, and makes him mirror her gesture.

She lets go and tries again, “You like?”

“Si,” Eddie repeats and actions the gesture himself this time. She claps her hands together happily.

As Steve rejoins them, she starts talking at him, rapidly gesturing with her hands between himself and Steve. He can pick out his name and cafe, which he thinks must be related to coffee.

“Alright, alright, geez ma,” Steve says, looking a little confused at her and then turns to Eddie, “Before she has some kinda fit aboudit, she wants me to ask if yous liked the espresso,” Steve looking at him with a bashful smile.

Eddie is nudged in the ribs by Mrs Harrington, who nods encouragingly at him again. He cautiously raises his finger to his cheek and turns it, “Si?” he says awkwardly and looks between them.

At first, Steve's mouth parts ever so slightly, like he's going to say something, then his eyes move to his mom, and he shakes his head but can’t seem to wipe the smirk from his face.

The bell over the door rings, and they all turn towards it, and the customer that just entered. Steve stands, but his mother shakes her head at him and gently pushes him back into his seat as she stands up. At the door, she turns back to Eddie, “If your mama worksa late, you come eat with us.” That didn't sound like a question to Eddie, but he nodded anyway. She tuts and tilts her head at him, a playful frown on her brow.

“Si,” Eddie tries again, and she looks delighted as she ruffles Steve’s hair and walks into the store.

“Sorry about dat,” Steve says, picking at the table, “She’s a a lot sometimes.”

“Oh, I didn't mind at all,” Eddie replies truthfully, and suddenly, he remembers why he was coming this way anyway, “Oh god, food. Yeah, I have to get food, that's…” Eddie rummages through his things and finds the notepaper.

“Want some help?” Steve asks, standing at the same time Eddie does.

“No, you’ve done so much already. I couldn’t keep taking up your time like this,” Eddie laughs awkwardly, but all he really wants to do is say yes.

Steve waves his hand, “It’s no trouble for a paying customer,” He says and walks towards the steps to the store with Eddie. As they reach the door, Steve pushes it open for him, “Allow me, Sir,” he chuckles and follows Eddie inside.

Steve guides him around the place, helps Eddie find everything on his list, and puts an extra small box on top as he rings up the groceries.

“What's that?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Cannoli, your Ma likes ‘em,” Steve answers as Eddie places the money in his hand, trying not to let his fingers linger against his palm longer than they should.

“I’ll make sure she gets it,” Eddie smiles, unsure exactly what it was, but he’d be sure to pass it on, all the same.

“Want me to walk you home? I’ll make sure Billy, Jason and Tommy don't give you any trouble,” Steve says, leaning over the counter towards him.

Something about that made Eddie’s heart race, but he didn't want to appear weak, “No, it's fine. I’m used to it, just it was my first day here, and it kinda got to me, is all.” And that doesn't feel like as much of a lie as it seemed. Having this oasis of safety with Steve and his family didn’t make the thought of Billy and his goons seem so awful.

“You still gonna come by tomorrow?” Steve genuinely asks, his eyes big and innocent, scanning over Eddie as he gathers the grocery bags.

“Yeah, course I will,” Eddie answers like Steve asked him the most ridiculous question in the history of all mankind, “I feel pretty inspired again already,” Eddie smiles fondly at Steve, who was rapidly becoming one of his favourite things in the universe.

“Yeah?” Steve says, plucking the toothpick from behind his ear and putting it back in his mouth, “I reckon dis place could maybe be a great beginning…for your story, I mean,” he says, walking around the counter and holding the door open for Eddie again, following him outside.

“Tomorrow then,” Eddie smiles at him, trying not to sigh because tomorrow already felt too far away. Steve nods back, and Eddie catches a glimpse of Steve’s mom in the window. He gives her a wave and starts walking back to the apartment.

As he reaches the corner, he looks back. He can see Mrs Harrington buzzing and fussing around Steve, who looks like he is laughing and pretending to fight her off. He smiles to himself, and with the staircase of the building clear of idiots, he thinks that maybe Steve is right. 

This could be a perfect place for the beginning of his new story.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie month #eddiemonth #madaboutmunson #eddie month week 1 #madaboutmunsonSHC

[therosebunpost]

So, I talk to my self a lot. When I say A LOT, I mean full blown, one sided conversations that happen half in my brain/half out loud.

From what I've heard, its because I'm lonely. I was kinda a lonely child/tween/teenager growing up and I'm still kinda alone now. Plus, I have a speech impediment so literally my whole life people struggled to understand me. This included family members. So all of this just combined to create a thing where I just.. Talk to myself. It helps me work through things, calms me down, and in general its just a Thing That I Do.

I think it would be funny/interesting if Steve or Eddie did the same thing. Like you just walk past the room they're in and boom, they're having a full blown conversation with no one. Or you just hear them muttering under their breath.

Steve talks to the TV when the Game is on. Either pretending to have a conversation with the Announcer or just commenting on the game.

Eddie talks to himself about DND plot lines, or he'll talk to the book he's reading. He'll mumble as he plays the guitar, or when he's out in public by himself. It freaks people out sometimes but 1, everything he does freaks people out, 2 he just needs to, so he just keeps doing it.

I want a scene where like, Eddie, Reader and Steve just live together having three completely separate convos that meld together. That, or Reader is just talking about something random and Eddie will just slip into the convo like he knows exactly what they're talking about, (he doesn't). Reader appreciates it though, because its nice to be listened too.

Eddie and Reader just talk to the TV along side Steve whenever its on. Like Steve will get upset over a bad play and you just have Eddie being like "Stop upsetting my Stevie, do better random...basketball guy- >:(((" and it just cracks Reader up. Steve rolls his eyes but he also can't help but smile.

#thebunspeaks #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #fluffybunnycorner #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things hc #steddie x reader #steddie

[sariahsue]

Let Me Count the Ways

Chapter Eleven - Hide and Seek

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10]

It was a training night, and Ladybug couldn't keep her hands off Chat Noir. Not that he was complaining, but it was really putting his resolve to the test. He wasn't going to make her uncomfortable or make her push him away. The sweet, agonizing burning of her proximity was something he would endure.

The blur of her yoyo sliced through the cool air, and Chat Noir, caught off guard, barely raised his baton in time.

"Nice block!" She reeled the line in with a quiet zip and laid one hand over his. (He would die before admitting either that that block was 90% accidental or that her constant touch was NOT helping. It felt like his bones were liquifying under her fingers.)

As soon as she walked away to ready her next attack, he stepped back to lean against the wall and closed his eyes, grateful for the short reprieve.

A whistling started, the sound of the yoyo spinning in a tight circle. "Okay. Again."

On a completely related note, he hadn't gotten a hit on her all night. (But, oh, was it ever worth it.)

Chat Noir pushed himself off the wall, swinging his weapon shakily, and missed the gleam in his Lady's eyes until it was far too late.

The yoyo flashed in an arc, wrapping around his baton as well as his hands. Ladybug yanked as hard as she could. It had been so quick that he didn't have time to even yell. He was flying off his feet and crashing into her before he knew what was happening.

He leapt off of her just as quickly, but not before he felt her mouth pressing against his collarbone.

"S-sorry," he managed to sputter out.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, unbothered, as she sat up. "I was only trying to disarm you, not grab you."

Heat crept up his face. He felt a sudden urge to fan it away, but if she hadn't noticed his blush yet, he wasn't going to draw attention to it, so he cleared his throat instead. "You usually have better aim than that."

"Well, I am very distracted tonight." She gave him a look, like he should know what had caused her bad throw.

Chat Noir busied himself with untangling his claws from her string. She kept doing that, expecting him to know what she was talking about, like it should be obvious to him. He should add that to his list. If he could just add everything up, he might finally puzzle out the secret message that he was missing.

In general, though. Not for this particular instance. Now the only thing he could think that she might mean was himself, but she couldn't have.

"Distracted by what?" he asked when his claws were finally free.

Ladybug gave a big sigh. "Never mind."

For the next half hour, the moon rose higher and Ladybug gave him a little bit more space. At first, it was helpful. He needed to catch his breath. But as the minutes ticked on and she kept her distance, he realized he was the one being driven to distraction. He wanted to be closer to her, to close the gap, pull her to him.

"I've got an idea to shake up this training session," she said after a silence that had stretched far too long (and had left him with ample time to agonize about spaces and how to fill them). "Wanna hear it?"

"Sure."

"So we have to hunt down akumas sometimes. What if we practice by looking for each other?"

Chat Noir tucked his baton away. "Isn't that just called hide and seek?"

"If you want to be boring about it, I guess we could call it that."

"Tactical detection training, then," he said. "Don't want Paris to think her heroes are boring."

She laughed. "I was thinking more along the lines of cat and mouse." Her smile turned dangerous. "But I go first being the cat."

Ladybug offered him a head start, and he didn't want to argue, not with that look on her face. Bounding across the rooftops, he wondered where he should hide, and what she had in mind. While it was true they occasionally had to search for akumas, it was a rarity. They were usually loud and proud about the destruction they were causing. Plus, it wasn't like practicing hiding would do them much good. It was too dependent on the section of city the fight was in, and there was no way they could just… memorize all the good spots.

After a few minutes, he found an open window that led into the attic of an old museum. The lights on the main floors were off, and the attic itself looked dark and dusty and unused. A quick look around told him his Lady wasn't nearby and wouldn't see him sneak inside. Perfect. He slipped in, past boxes and furniture and forgotten things, trying to find the perfect spot, somewhere he could watch for movement outside but would provide plenty of cover should she happen to peek in.

One of the dust sheets behind him rustled, but when he turned, he didn't see any movement. He was playing the mouse, but he suspected that had been caused by a real one. He wrinkled his nose. It certainly smelled like them in there.

When he turned back to face the window, he heard another rustle but ignored it. At least until he felt a touch at the small of his back and a whisper at his ear.

"Found you."

He jumped away, heart racing, only to hear Ladybug laughing in response.

"How?" he croaked.

"There's lots of open windows. While you were making up your mind, I came in on the other side." She grabbed his hand. "You're going to have to lead me out. I can't see anything in here. I almost tripped and landed on my face before."

Chat Noir let himself have one small indulgence. Instead of keeping his hand stiff and flat in hers, he curled his fingers, letting the pads press gently against the back of her hand.

And then he tried to stop thinking about how great it felt and stop being weird about it and started leading them out.

The silence between them was as thick as the dust in the room. He wanted to say something, make a joke about holding hands, or maybe chance intertwining their fingers, but he couldn't. If he called attention to it, she would probably be flustered and embarrassed and would stop. And he did NOT want her to stop.

When he reached the window, he paused. The toes of his boots were inches away from the shaft of moonlight shining in through the open window. A part of him wanted to stay in here with her, alone together, where no one could see them.

Ladybug didn't wait for him, instead pushing past him when she saw the faint light.

"Wait." He pulled, and she came willingly, until they were face to face. The air felt warm despite the cool air snaking in through the window and curling around them.

"What?" At first she seemed simply surprised at being held back, but the raised eyebrows were soon exchanged for a small smile. Which he only noticed because he was staring at her mouth.

He flicked his eyes toward the window. "Uh. Remember to duck, so you don't hit your head on the way out." Okay, maybe he should tell her to stop. This was careening toward unfamiliar territory. Dangerous territory.

Ladybug didn't let go of his hand until they had both made it through the small window and were in plain sight of the buildings around them. Lights from streetlights and cars all felt pointed at him, illuminating the heart on his sleeve. It was only a matter of time before she saw it.

"We shouldn't do that again."

Ladybug stopped short, caught off guard by his abrupt declaration. "Why not?"

Because being in the dark, hidden from the world, had given him ideas that would threaten the balance he'd created in himself - between the contentment her platonic friendship gave him and his desire for more - that would threaten to tear it all to pieces if he let it grow. It would have been so easy to lean in, kiss her, and believe that she would have welcomed him.

"Because it took too long," he said bluntly.

"Yeah," she agreed with a frown. "You're right. This wasn't the best use of our time. It's already time to go. And I didn't get the result that I wanted anyway."

He let out a held breath. That was good. She hadn't suggested switching roles and trying again. He wasn't sure his self control could handle chasing her right now. The wind blew, and on the street below engines revved as a light changed, and he tried to focus on that instead of how badly he wanted to let himself love her.

Ladybug took a step forward and cupped his cheek. All of his attention snapped back to her in an instant, his hands finding her hips before he thought to keep them still. Their eyes locked.

"It was a good idea, though," she continued, like she hadn't even noticed where he was holding her. Should he move? She would say something if it was bothering her. He knew she would tell him if he was in danger of making her uncomfortable, and he shouldn't worry. But he felt guilty anyway.

The hand on his cheek dropped to his chest, then slid down lower.

His eyes slammed shut.

Don't react, he chanted to himself as he started to shake. Don't, don't, don't. The muscles in his stomach clenched as her fingers brushed over them.

Breathe normally! He couldn't let her realize the effect she was having on him. He wasn't sure he was successful.

The hand finally dropped and he opened his eyes.

"Same time tomorrow?" She smiled up at him, waiting for an answer, but he could only stare and feel her hips still in his hands.

"We should go," she whispered, and then she stepped away, slipping out from underneath his palms.

Chat Noir had to ball them into fists to keep from grabbing her again and dragging her back to him. Pulling her flush against him, blazing heat everywhere they connected. The image was so strong and so, so close.

But what would Ladybug's reaction be to his unwelcome pull? That image was a dark shadow. He didn't know how it would play out, but the dread building in his chest whispered suggestions. And he didn't want to ruin this.

So he forced himself to stay still and let her go, waiting until she was gone before sitting down on the roof and putting his face in his hands. His resolve was quickly crumbling. If he didn't do something soon, he risked pushing her away and damaging the friendship that meant so much to him.

Too bad he had no idea what to do.

---

Tag list: @clawsout83 @trippingovermyfeet @tbehartoo @yoonjae20 @random-cartoon-fangirl @jasvalka 

#ml #mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir

[italeean]

HELLO THIS IS RANDO TO ELLE I REPEAT RANDO TO ELLE, OVER!! I HOPE YOU ARENT BEING DROWNED OUT WITH REQUESTS FOR THE MILESTONE EVENT (IF SO PLEASE DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO DO MINE, AND MAKE SURE TO TAKE LOADS OF BREAKS WHEN NEEDED!!) ALSO I APOLOGISE FOR THE ALL CAPS I DO THIS WHEN I’M EXCITED OR JUST ENTHUSIASTIC IN GENERAL!

SO FOR THE EVENT:

THE NAME’S RANDO, BUT YA KNOW THAT ALREADY,

I’M SUPER LOUD AND LOVE FUN EXCITING STUFF, THOUGH I CAN ALSO GET SCARED EASY- AND I LIKE PERFORMING ARTS (ESPECIALLY SINGING, HIPHOP DANCE, AND MUSICAL THEATRE) OR ARTS IN GENERAL AND PRANKS AND PARTIES AND IM BASICALLY A GREMLIN HDJDHSKS-

I AM ALSO A LEE BUT SHHH YOU DIDNT HEAR THAT FROM ME-

FOR THE FANDOM, EITHER GENSHIN OR BUNGO STRAY DOGS- I DON’T MIND WHICH!

AND ALSO I’D PREFER PLATONIC AND A DUDE CAUSE THE B IN BRO GOTTA STAND FOR BESTIES >:D

ANYWAYS THAT WAS PROBABLY A LOT BUT I HOPE YOU’RE DOING WELL AND HAVE HAD A GOOD WEEK SO FAR!!

ANYWAYS THIS WAS RANDO, OVER AND OUT-

RANDOOOO MY DEAR!!! IT'S BEEN SO NICE TO SEE YOUR REQUEST POPPING UP IN MY ASK BOX 🥹 About how many requests I have, I can officially say that I passed the 20 requests!! 😸 Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy the match I gave you... I chose BSD as a fandom hehe ❤️🍡 *some dango for my #1 Itto stan* P.S. You better have slept properly, or else.

🔮 For the match-up, your pair is... RANPO

🔮 Why did I choose him for you?

• SAME GREMLIN ENERGY, THAT'S THE FIRST REASON • I can see you getting the zoomies together after having an overdose of sugar... poor Kunikida would take a sick leave probably hehe~ • You two would probably fall together into Yosano or Dazai's tickly clutches... or maybe both of them at the same time • I can imagine you two (lovingly) bullying the life out of poor Poe... he'd get wrecked at least twice a week • Ranpo is always honest (even blunt and cheeky at times) so he would always give you a honest feedback about your singing, dancing or theatrical performances... you can always trust his judgment • I'm imagining you creating a song with a couple of lines about every member of the Agency hahahaha • Maybe someone would even get revenge on you two if you made his lines comical enough (ahem Kunikida *cough cough*) • The detective would probably have fun with giving you jumpscares... maybe even tickly jumpscares~ • PLAYFIGHTS WITH KENJI AND ATSUSHI. PERIOD. • You could have a "bro/bestie night" with a nice movie, maybe a comedic murder mystery, and a huge pile of sweets!!! • You could give yourself a silly bros nickname, like THE RANS, since your names both start with RAN • Ranpo probably wins both tickle fights against you, thanks to his observation skills and his great memory. He'd remember each and every one of your weaknesses...

🔮 Tickle scenario

The Agency was completely quiet for once. Dazai and Kunikida were on a mission together, just like Kenji and Tanizaki, Naomi was out shopping with Kyouka, Yosano was buying more bandages and a new chainsaw, the President was having a negotiation with Mori, Atsushi was out "fighting" Akutagawa and Ranpo was on a crime scene.

Which means that when you arrived at this building, you found no one to welcome you. You sighed, although you didn't get mad, you knew that your friends were out doing their job... so you decided to use that time to explore around the building.

You went around and checked everyone's desks, making your heart skip a beat when you almost knocked over a pen holder on Kunikida's perfectly tidy and organized desk, and in the end you found it. The treasure. Your eyes literally lighted up at the sight: you had found Ranpo's stack of sweets.

You genuinely wondered how Ranpo was able to eat all that sugar without getting sick, but a rumble in your stomach made you snap back to reality. You were hungry, but you couldn't eat those sweets... you knew how jealous the detective was of his food, so you decided not to touch anything.

...

After an hour, the pile of candy was complete gone, and you gulped when you heard the door open and the sound of approaching steps. It wasn't your lucky day. Before you could even think about hiding the evidence of your hideous crimes, Ranpo appeared before you.

"AAAAAHH I'm so disappointed! The case was so easy that I spotted the culprit from afar! I didn't even get to use my ability! Seriously, isn't there an intelligence test to become a policeman?" The detective was clearly grumpy, so he did the thing that usually cheered him up, which was eating sweets to his heart's content.

However, his frown deepened when he found his stack completely gone and the wraps all scattered around the floor. "Rando..." The detective looked at you with a piercing gaze, even putting on his glasses, "do you know where my candy went? "I... you... no... I mean... I didn't... well... I WAS HUNGRY!!!" You couldn't lie at all, especially to the greatest detective of all times.

"Now I'm hungry! What am I supposed to eat, huh?" If you hadn't been so nervous, you would've probably noticed the playfully ominous glint in your best friend's eyes. "Erm... I... I think Kunikida left s-some raw veggies in the fridge..?"

"EEEEEEEHHH VEGGIES??? BLEH! HOW DARE YOU?! YOU'RE GONNA GET IT!!" The green-eyed guy jumped on you, but you managed to put your hands on his shoulders and push him off... Or so you thought.

When you raised your arms, two fingers immediately wormed under your arms, thoroughly digging in the very center of your underarms. "KYAAAHAHEHEHEHE RAHAHAHANPO WAIHIHIHIT NOOOO!!!" You were immediately reduced to a laughing mess, but Ranpo showed no mercy.

On the contrary, he moved his hands and made you think he had decided to spare you and let it slide for once, but right after you breathed a sigh of relief, twenty wiggling fingers descended on your poor tummy.

"WAAAAHHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO RAHAHANPOHOHO NAHAHAT THIHIHIS!!!" You begged, wishing your thin cotton shirt could protect you better from the pokes, pinches, scribbles and spiders that were targeting your midriff.

"Yes, this! You deserve it for eating my secret stack of sweets! Hmph!!" He huffed while he started circling your belly button. "NONONOHOHOHOHO BROHOHO PLEAHAHASE LEHEHET'S TAHAHALK ABOHOHOUT THIHIHIS..!" As soon as you understood where his finger was going, you started pleading and squirming, making the tickly feeling even worse (or better).

"You should've thought about it before eating my snacks... now I'm gonna dig and get them back!" The brunette exclamation as his finger found your bellybutton and started wiggling extra quickly, as if it was digging in your poor belly.

"AAAAAAAAAHAHHAHAEHEHHEHE NAH- NAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOT THIHIHIS PLEHEHEAHASEEE" It surprised you how mean a cute guy like Ranpo could be, but there you were, squirming like a little worm, trying in vain to escape your tickly fate.

But alas, your yelling, squirming, pleading and begging fell on deaf ears. Only when your laughter went silent and you asked him to stop, Ranpo actually ceased his assault. "Are you okay?" The detective asked while handing you a glass of water "Sorry if I overdid it..."

"Don't worry, I'm fine, and well... it was deserved hehe" You gave him an embarrassed smile and scratched the back of your head, "Now... shall we go buy more candy and annoy Poe?"

"YAY! LET'S GOOO!!!"

#350/400 followers event #milestone event #tickle matchup event #rando epogawa 🍿 #lee!rando #ticklish!rando #ler!ranpo #lee!reader #ticklish!reader

[blackmambaboobs]

TF2 Monster Mercs

So, I was thinking about the TF2 mercs as monsters/mythical creatures... Scout: Jackalope  -It’s known in the game that he’s called “Jackrabbit” by Engi and is known as the fastest member of the team.  -Rabbits are fast, can be skittish and alert (especially wild ones). -Jackalopes are from North American folklore, and seem harmless (though I’d imagine that their horns can do quite a bit of damage, like a buck). -Rabbits are good kickers because of their strong legs and are good at defending themselves despite the fact that they are prey to many animals. Spy: Matagot -It’s known in game and just in regular canon that Spy is seen as sly (AKA, being sneaky and tricky) and is hard to know which person he’s turned into. -He’d be a Fox Matagot.  -Matagots are from Southern France and can turn into multiple animals, but I feel a Fox fits him. -Foxes are amazing hunters, they’re quick and hard to catch and are known for causing trouble. Soldier: Sasquatch   -Soldier is a loud Guy and is violent when protecting his team, this is just a fact in canon and in game. -Sasquatches are commonly from North america and are said to be violent, smashing rocks on things to kill it and even yelling.  -And while Sasquatches are known to run away if needed, they will roar and/or act similar to a Gorilla to scare off prey. Sniper: PouKai -Sniper is known for being a Bushman, and being able to kill someone with good aim just from a single gun and being silent at it too. -He’d be a Poukai, why? Poukai’s are from New Zealand, they’re large man-eating birds and while they are considered mythical they may have actually existed at one point because of an actual extinct bird’s similarities.  -They’re like Eagles and are able to quickly kill and eat their prey silently.  Demoman: Kelpie -Demo’s known for his many bombs and somehow inability to not die despite the fact he is just a l c o h o l. And his disliking for Nessie. -He’d be a Kelpie for these reasons, 1: Kelpies are water spirits and while there are debates about it, it’s generally believed they lived near the Loch Ness Monster. and 2: Kelpies are known for tricking people by turning into a beautiful looking person (man or woman) and/or beautiful horse and then attacking that said person, even causing the Kelpie to be called the Devil because of it (honestly, gives me the vibes that Demo calls himself when he says he’s a monster because of his cyber eye).  Heavy: Leshy -Heavy, while known for carrying a big ass gun, is a big softie and doesn’t speak much, being kind and respectful to many people regardless of size and shape. -Leshy’s are in Russian and/or Polish origin, they are known to be masculine and said to be a forest spirit that watches the woods it protects. And while they seem evil, they tend to be quite nice depending on the Humans they meet. -This fits Heavy very well, he’s not mean at his core (literally a gentle giant). And he protects his team and family and friends, always making sure they’re safe. Medic: Nachzehrer -It’s known in game and in canon that Medic is a bit unstable and likes to experiment with different organs and such (animal or Human). He’s also known for making a deal with Satan himself in the comics. -In German folklore,  Nachzehrers are kinda a mixture of Vampires and Ghouls. They are also known for being related to sickness and disease (like a plague). They are often created in sad ways (Suicide, ETC), and eat either their own bodies or their family members.  -While I don’t believe Medic would ever eat someone (including himself),  Nachzehrers are also created because of sickness (it’s believed the first person that dies becomes one in most cases).  -Medic would honestly probably just eat random people, or at the very least, his enemies. Engineer: Goatman  -Engi’s known for his sentries and many PHDs and fast thinking. And because of this, is hard to get rid of.  -From Texas and other places, the Goatman is known for protecting bridges by attacking and/or scaring off people, especially at night, by either scratching (or just generally hurting) the person and/or making many terrifying noises. -They tend to be seen as the Devil because of their violent acts if you stay on his bridge for too long. Reminds me of the line “And you best hope... not pointed at you.” Pyro: Cockatrice -It’s known in game that Pyro is well, a pyromaniac and a bit weird. But they’re protective over their friends but seem unsettling to others especially with the mask they wear. -Cockatrices is a biblical beast, known for turning people they make eye contact with into stone and/or using fire breath.  -They are violent to Humans, though I’d imagine they’d be protective over their own kind and offspring. Note: I made these little headcanons of the mercs as monsters/mythical creatures based on where they’re from and what fits them personality and job-wise- The knowledge of these creatures are from my own research, so if I get anything wrong, I do apologize- If you have more info’ on these creatures (especially if they are from where you live), please educate me! I’d be happy to learn! :) 

#tf2 #tf2 pyro #tf2 engineer #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 soldier #tf2 demoman #tf2 spy #estrella rambles #headcanon #headcanons

[sukimas]

🔥pokemon?

Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion.

Alola sucks as a region. This is mostly unrelated to the quality of the games themselves (except for me; I really, really care about exploration). But Hawai'i is incredibly rich and diverse with all kinds of wonderful environments to explore, such that every new route could be completely unique. They did that with Kalos, and that's France! But instead, it feels like practically everything is just walking along a dirt path with some grass on the side. I feel like I'm in Kanto again; why, exactly, do I have the impression that I'm in the suburbs of Tokyo rather than in the tropics? Hoenn provides a much better island-type experience than Alola does, and it had the restrictions of the GBA to deal with; the only reason I can think of for Alola being, physically, so boring is simple development time restrictions.

There's also basically no exploration- a much steeper dropoff than the dropoff between BW2 and XY, actually, where XY has plenty of exploration but mostly you have to seek it out, but BW2 has a good deal of mandated exploration. The complete lack of a Victory Road is so obviously not a plot thing, it's a poor game design thing. And in general, there are no "places to go". Surf is useful in like 1 or 2 places, and there's nothing interesting to find there; there's 1 or 2 caves with mid items in them; the Vast Poni Canyon is what would be an earlygame cave in any earlier Pokemon game. Every time I went to a new island I was always hoping that I'd get to see some awesome new environments, but it was always fucking grass and dirt paths again. Barely even in a different color sometimes.

There are a couple interesting set pieces, especially on Ula'ula; Po Town and Ula'ula Meadow are pretty. However, there's still not a lot to do in either of those places, despite their better aesthetic appeal than the rest of the game, and compared to Akala or Melemele, you really don't spend a lot of time on Ula'ula at all.

This isn't even getting into the towns and cities; there's absolutely nothing to do in them. After Lumiose in XY and the faithfully recreated (and somewhat added to) cities in ORAS, you really feel the absence of anything interesting to explore. The shops, of course, sell generally kind of awful clothing; I promise there is tropical stuff you can sell that does not look ungodly, and I should know- one of my colleagues wears intentionally loud Hawaiian shirts every day from April to October, and has a tie-dyed lab coat. But let's get back to the cities. They generally don't have anything differentiating them from each other besides the aesthetic! There's not anything notable that you can do in Heahea that you can't do in Konikoni, and nothing notable that you can do in Konikoni that you can't do in Heahea. This started to be a problem in XY to an extent; there are places like Anistar, for example, that kind of just exist to be set pieces. But there also aren't really any interesting people to interact with in the cities, either. You don't have to have a bunch of sidequests- god knows I certainly don't give much of a damn about sidequests- but let me get an item or two, have interestingly decorated houses, have a place I can go with a nice view, have someone tell me a legend. That's really all I ask for.

Sun and Moon have a lot to like outside of the region- the Pokemon are really cute, and the characters are, well, they're OK for Pokemon I guess. The island trials are also a fun spin on the gym challenges. But overall, when I play Pokemon to be immersed in a world, Alola is really the place where the idea of that world began to fall apart for me. I thought for a while that it was just me getting older and jaded, but I played Legends Arceus, and while I have a lot of gripes with that game's gameplay, I can safely say Nope! The world there immersed me. Different areas had plenty of different things to do, and the one town was excellently developed. Alola and its successors just aren't very immersive regions.

#ask game #long post

[the-ace-with-spades]

Omg I am so freaking excited for the next chapter of slow down (you’re doing fine). Like frothing at the mouth, jumping up and down and squealing loud enough to scare my roommates type of excitement. I love, love, love that fanfic and it makes so unbelievably happy to just read the sample, especially from Bradley’s perspective. It’s so much fun to learn a little more about Hangman, Rooster, Ice and Maverick every chapter. I am dying for the reveal at some point that Maverick is in fact The Godfather and that the COMPACFLT is Maverick’s husband. Hangman and the other Daggers won’t know what hit them, they are so clueless.

Also I just recently discovered you other fic ( sometime I feel like) a monkey pilot and I am once again in love with your characterization of Bradley and how supportive Ice and Maverick are. It’s such a beautiful story with so much emotion and I don’t know how I managed to miss seeing it for so long. I feel so bad for Jake as well because it must feel like he’s some how switched realities with all the changes that are hitting him right now, but I also kind of want to punch him for being such a dick.

Finally, I just have one quick question. I noticed that you head-cannon that Maverick is older than Ice and was wondering why that was? I am not against it or anything I am just curious to see how other people determine ages for characters when they are not officially stated in the original movie or book. For movies and tv shows, I just usually base it on the actor’s age unless this is like wildly off for some reason.

Oh my god I'm so sorry it's taking so long, adhd and life hits you at the worst moment I'm afraid...

this is going to be a technical spoiler but I'll just say that there's part two of the series that will be called I took the good times (I'll take the bad times) that will show the sixteen weeks after slow down and Bradley and Jake navigating how to actually be together -- this is where the funny family meeting stuff and first breakdowns would happen.

there will be a small 5+1 fic about Mav and Ice that's, well, that's the summary: five times Ice waited for Mav and one time Mav was ready for him. will be called we have all the time in the world (all the love). Because, a bit of a spoiler even if it was alluded in slow down, Ice and Mav haven't actually gotten together until Bradley was, like, eleven in this 'verse

also i'll say I'm glad you're enjoying monkey pilot! that fic is my ugly child and honestly, I have not expected such warm reception for it... I think I'm incapable of not writing Mav as a parental figure and since I'm also incapable of killing off Ice, he's going to be babytrapped in most of my fics 🤷‍♂️

as for Mav and Ice's age, I either headcanon them as of the same age (born same year) with Mav having his birthday in September and Ice in November/December, or that Mav is actually a year older. I think this is a cultural thing since in Poland some people believe the month you're born would define your personality. It's especially more common in the region I'm from and present mostly in the more superstitious older generation - I was mostly raised by my grandma and still kinda believe that people born in Sep are more temperamental, impulsive, wild but also fiercely loyal and people born Nov/Dec are more cool-headed, calculating and goal-orientated. It doesn't make much sense I'm afraid, it's just me finding the months suitable to their personalities?? As for the 'Mav is older', I assumed that could be a possibility as it's implied that he went to the OCS after college (either in the top gun novel or the movie??) since he wasn't able to get into USNA and I thought that could set him back a year -- and since he seems to have the same amount of experience as the rest of the NAs and RIOs, I thought he might actually be older.

Thank you for your kind, kind words, you don't even know how nice it feels to read your asks or comments. Hope you're doing well 💙

#slow down tag #(sif) lamp tag #asks #my fav people #hangster #icemav #idk? idk how to tag #charlie writes

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes-Chapter 6

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor, Lillian Luthor

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Kara entered the building through the service entrance on the roof and flew down the stairwell until she reached the bottom floor. She quietly walked down the hallway until she heard voices. She peeked through the door at the end of the hallway and saw that Grundy and Grodd were still inside. Grodd was busy still looking for something. However, Kara focused more on Grundy. He wasn’t doing anything. He was frozen in place with a blank expression on his face. Kara knew that he was the living dead, but normally he was more animated than this. She slowly approached as Grodd continued to do his search.

“Where is it? The device should be here!” exclaimed Grodd while throwing a table into the wall. 

“If you had asked nicely, maybe someone would have been willing to help you,” exclaimed Kara as she punched Grodd from behind, sending him flying into a wall. While Grodd was momentarily indisposed, Kara turned her attention back to Grundy expecting an attack. However, he was still standing in the same place when she first entered the room. She went towards him and waved her hands in his face. He didn’t even blink. Kara stared at him baffled. 

“What did he do to you?”

While she was lost in thought, Kara heard the Flash shout, “Kara, behind you!”

Kara looked behind her to see Grodd’s fist come close to her face. She ducked just in time causing Grodd to stumble forward. While he regained his balance, Supergirl saw a blur sped through from behind and punched him in the back which caused him to hit the floor hard. 

Kara turned to Flash and said, “Thanks for the save.”

The Flash smiled and said, “Anytime.”

Grodd gradually got back up and stared at the two heroes disgruntled. 

“I don’t have time for you fools. Grundy! Defend your Master!”

All of a sudden, a loud groaning noise filled the room. Kara turned around and was unsettled by what she saw. Grundy had turned to look at them but his eyes were rolled to the back of his head and his mouth was wide open. 

The Flash turned to Grodd startled and asked, “What did you do to him?”

Grodd smiled menacingly and said, “I did what I must to ensure my legacy. Grundy was initially resistant, but some fine-tuning helped him to see things my way.”

Grodd walked away as Grundy ran full speed at the two heroes. The Flash dodged to the side and Kara started to fly above. Kara thought that she had a good vantage point. However, Grundy jumped high enough to grab her by the foot and swing her to the side crashing into the Flash. The impact was great enough to cause them to both hit a wall. 

“Oww” groaned Kara, gradually sitting up. 

“That hurt,” muttered the Flash getting up.

Kara looked up and saw Grundy moving full speed ahead again. 

Kara turned to the speedster and said, “You take him from below and I will try to take him from above. “

“Will do.”

The Flash sped forward and circled around him multiple times generating enough energy to shoot off a lightning bolt. It hit Grundy squarely in the chest causing him to go backwards. Kara flew up above and blew her freeze breath on him and encased him in ice. 

Kara landed right in front of her ice sculpture and grimaced. The Flash came up behind her and stopped in front of Grundy.

Kara turned to the Flash and said, “How do you think Grundy was being controlled? I thought that Grodd can only mind control living things and Grundy is the undead.”

The Flash frowned and said, “I have two working theories. Either magic is involved which I don’t know if Grodd would really subscribe to that level of mysticism or there is some type of mechanical device embedded in Grundy that is forcing him to do these things.”

Kara used her X-ray vision to scan Grundy’s body. It took her a minute, but she finally found what she was looking for.”

“He has a small mechanical device underneath his right ear that seems to be emitting some type of electronic pulse,” murmured Kara. 

“Scary to have the control of your body taken away like that,” marveled the speedster. 

“It is,” said Kara softly.

The speedster turned to Kara and asked, “So, about earlier?”

“What about earlier?” asked Kara startled. 

The speedster sighed and said, “Superman radioing in that he wants to come in on the mission with us.”

Kara tried to keep her face passive but struggled. She hated that she let him get to her each and every time. She wanted to prove that she had what it takes. 

Read the rest on AO3

#dc comics #dc universe #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara danvers x lena luthor #clark kent #superman #samantha arias #dc comics fanfiction #dccomics fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl fanfic #supergirl au #supercorp fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #fanficiton #fanfic #superheroes #lillian luthor #bruce wayne #oliver queen #diana prince #john stewart #barry allen #j'onn j'onzz

[anonymousfoz]

Crimson Eclipse- Rebellion #1

Taglist: @vite-poh, @theoracleofgiana, @writeblr-of-my-own, @mfpipecat, @the-mindless , @holdmyteaplease , @digital-chance , @eldritchx

I am not linking everything, just go read it on ao3

"All it takes is a small ripple to cause a violent storm...."

It had been 2 years since Luna- Moony's life had changed. She took back her former name and had prepared for what was her destiny. She overlooked the corrupted city, not much had changed since she died before her rebirth as she would have to take the same shit down, but much more was at risk this time. The lives of numerous children lied in her hands and the generations of the future of this town.

"Moony, you ready to go?" The 16-year-old looked over at her older sister. Sunny grabbed her jacket as Moony came down from her spot. Moony went inside the cave to grab her hoodie and to tell Crimson and Viktor goodbye before heading off.

"Be safe out there, please. Don't do anything Viktor would do." Moony rolled her eyes before playfully punching Crimson. The wolf raised his paws as if he was surrendering before laughing while Viktor came into the room.

"Bring me back a skull please." Crimson looked over at the ram before pushing him away from Moony and the two began to argue. Moony ran outside to meet Sunny and then they were off with Taco eventually joining the two on their travel. Today was different as Moony was finally meeting the cult Lilith had. She knew a few former members would be there, and knew there would be a lack of faith in her; either due to previous failure or current age. Either way, Moony was prepared to prove them wrong.

"You know, you don't have to do this."

"I want to do this Sunny. I don't care what they do." Taco let out a meow before rubbing against Moony. "I got it Taco, just don't kill anyone." Sunny began to pet the large feline before footsteps began to approach. A loud rambunctious crowd went silence at the sight of the two sisters, minus one member who ran up to hug Taco.

"I thought we weren't going through with this." One member shouted. They out of the crowd and to Sunny, seemly ignoring Moony all together. "Why should we put our lives at risk for this little teenager?"

"So you don't want to save thousands of children being used as weapons?" Moony interrupted catching the member off guard. "That's what I thought. You can either do that go back to Hell and complain to Lilith, but she put me in charge." The member stared daggers at Moony. "It's very nice to see you again Diablo. Same stubborn asshole as back then." The member grabbed the strings to Moony's hoodie before Taco stood up looking down at Diablo.

"Just move on Diablo, we will do this without you if needed. Moony is leading."

"I don't care, this little pipsqueak can-" the room went dark before the ground began to shake and sparks flew across the room. Diablo stepped back, letting go of Moony but the chaos continued to happen until a large roar was heard.

"Taco, that is enough." Moony pet the feline as the lights flickered back on and the sparks stopped. The feline licked his fangs before sitting behind Moony. The feline wasn't going to let anyone talk like that to his human. Sunny went with the others to another room to clear up anymore conflict, but this wouldn't be the end of it. After all, it was only day one. There was more days ahead, and this wouldn't be the last interaction.

"...and only one small act to change a person."

The next interaction would be their last. It was the next day after, early in the morning. Moony was as the gym as it was a habitat picked up from the brief time in Lucifer's army, Moony quickly rose in the ranks there but grew enemies with her higher ranking officers. To avoid them she just started working out earlier. Diablo had the same idea and the two met while Moony was doing pull-ups.

"What are you doing here kid?" Diablo yelled walking closer. Moony paid him no attention as she kept doing her exercise. "Gym is closed during these hours."

"Then why are you here if it's closed?" Moony did one more pull-up before falling to the ground and looking at the frustrated demon. She began walking towards the exit with the older demon following. "The only issue here is that your authority is being challenged by someone you see who doesn't deserve it."

"What are you my therapist?"

"I have the ability to read and know your deepest and darkest thoughts, such as the fact you only joined this cult because Lucifer banished you from hell." Diablo went quiet. "You want me to tell the others or are you still going to be on my ass?"

"You aren't telling the others anything. Or els-"

"I'm trying to get prepared for a revolution and to go out there to be saving lives. I have no time for you or this. Sorry if you're feelings are hurt that I'm in charge but unless you want to go to Lucifer. I suggest you deal with it."

"You're not going to do anything. Why trust you when you failed the first time?" Diablo looked down at the 16-year-old. "Saving lives when you couldn't even save your own. What's the difference this time? Part time in the army and some more magic training? You should go back to you're fucking grave."

"Real rich coming from the person who didn't do shit the first time. You didn't even go on a singular mission you asshole."

"Time's were different."

"Time's were different." Moony mocked. "They only threat to you was that fucking wizard and I did all the work. You had every chance to help even after my death but you hid like the coward you were and still are."

"I am not a coward."

"Only a coward let's others suffer because you're scared of dying. You had every chance to end things and you never took the initiative and until you do, I don't want to hear a word about my leadership from you."

"Because you can-"

"There are children sitting in crates getting sold for weapons in gang warfare. You had nearly 4 thousand years to step in and all you did was sit in this hideout and training people to do what you were meant to do. You were my right hand, when I went down it was your job to pick up where I left off. And you failed me and every person who suffered because you couldn't kill one old bastard." Diablo was quiet again. "Not going to say anything? You know I'm right. Either do something or sit in the background and keep your mouth shut." Moony walked out leaving Diablo alone in the gym. She was too frustrated to keep working out and she didn't need to be around Diablo at the moment. She opened the door and slammed it closed with her telekinetic powers before stopping as she shattered the glass. She used a repair spell on the glass and door and then she was gone till morning when everyone went to the dining halls for breakfast.

Diablo was talking about Moony when she walked in. Moony walked past to get her breakfast, avoiding eye contact with everyone. It wasn't until Diablo mentioned Sunny that Moony finally snapped and the demon was thrown across the room and slammed against walls appearing out from the ground. Moony only stopped once Sunny came into the room minutes later. It didn't matter to Moony what anyone thought of her, she cared about Sunny and wasn't going to let anyone talk about Sunny behind her back.

"You can't just do that Moony."

"I don't care, I'm fed up with him." Sunny let out a sigh which caused Moony to stop and rethink. "Look, I will hurt him if he talks about you like that. Or anyone for that matter. That cowards don't deserve a place to talk like that."

"I was just saying you can't traumatize people, like that. Do that to him in private." Moony could see a smile creep onto Sunny's face before she responded. "Besides, we all are getting sick of him. But I can get used to this side of you more."

"What? Was the old side boring?"

"No. Just this side is a lot bolder."

#crimson eclipse #rebellion arc #fiction #writing #writeblr #fantasy #my writing

[potatohater]

TICKLE TLOU HEADCANONS BECAUSE I LOVE THEM

1. on a scale of 1-10, how ticklish are they?

Ellie is 7.5/10 and Joel is a solid 6/10

2. where is their most ticklish spot(s)?

For Ellie the worst ones are her ribs and her tummy, and her neck is quite ticklish too)) for Joel it’s his sides and armpits!!

3. which spots are they not ticklish?

Ellie is not really ticklish on her lower body and back for Joel its the same, but his knees is 🤏 ticklish

4. what is their laugh like?

OHH DONT GET ME STARTED

Girl has a high-pitched laugh, she’s thrashing around when you tickle her, also neck tickles cause adorable giggles which made Joel go🥹

Joel has a very wheezy laugh, like he’s dying or sum. But when he’s tickled in a good spot you can hear the best part of it. He starts with chuckles which transform into a loud belly laugh in a split second. Ellie LOVES it

5. do they enjoy tickling? if yes, is it a fun platonic/familial thing, or kinky thing to them, or can it be both depending on the circumstance?

It’s only platonic for both of them. It was a very important step in their bonding as a family

6. are they more often a lee or ler, generally?

I don’t think that they have a lot of tickle fights but Ellie is like 75% lee and 25% ler. Joel is an opposite. She would easily be the biggest ler ever existed but he gets her back everytime

7. who is someone in their life that they tickle often?

Each other mostly, for Joel it was Sara for sure :(

8. who is someone in their life that they get tickled by often?

Each other again!! Maybe Dina for Ellie (if we are talking about tlou 2)

9. does the word “tickle” or any variation of embarrass them?

Ellie doesn’t care but Joel thinks it’s too childish for him

10. are they embarrassed about their ticklishness, and do they try to deny/hide it?

At first if Ellie would like to be cool girl she will hide it but not so much, and Joel WILL DENY FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE HIS SENSITIVITY

11. would gentle tickling or rough tickling affect them more?

For Ellie is more gentle and for Joel it’s both but rough tickles work better

12. is there a specific spot that they enjoy being tickled, either exclusively or more than other spots? what is it?

Ellie likes being tickled on her chin😭😭 I JUST KNOW OKAY? She thinks it’s nice

13. is there a spot that they can’t stand to be tickled, either because it’s  just too sensitive, or it’s uncomfortable/painful/etc? what is it?

Joel hates when someone gets his back because it makes him giggle like crazy, also armpits his death spot and he doesn’t want to lose his dignity so he protects them with all his costs

14. would they ever purposefully bug a friend/partner/sibling into tickling them, and if so, how would they go about it?

Ellie would poke Joel sometimes of she is bored or in playful mood, Joel usually just go without hesitation if he wants to tickle her

15. does teasing affect them?

For Ellie it’s 50/50 BUT JOEL JUST DIES. He sees himself as a grown up man and he cannot stand teasing, especially about how ticklish he is😭

#tworld #tickling #tickle headcanons #father daughter tickle #ticklish!ellie #ticklish!joel #I WATCHED 2 EPISODES OF SERIES AND JUST RAN TO YOUTUBE TO WATCH THE GAME BECAUSE I FELL IN LOVE WITH THEIR RELATIONSHIPS FROM THE START #actually their vibe is very different in game and series for me but I love them both #in series I see them as a more playful duo especially in tickle parts #but in game it’s different BUT I JUST KNOW THAT GAME ELLIE AND JOEL HAD AT LEAST ONE TICKLE MOMENT ON HER BIRTHDAY #GAME ELLIE AND JOEL IS PURE GOLD #tlou 2 ellie tickled joel to bits at least once #i just know that #because now SHE CAN GET HIM BACK #tlou tickling

[aggressively-crying]

Wasp is going up against IDW Whirl! Not Cyberverse. BIG BIG difference. Your argument is confusing because half way I thew it I thought you where saying Wasp had something worse then being dismantled. I waited for you to say what Wasp had done to him that is worse then Whirl getting dismantled, having the government chop his hands off because they didn't like him going against his function, suffering depression because everyone is trying to kill him.

Sooooo..... what did Wasp have done to him???? because you did a dang good job about convincing me that Whirl is the superior poor mew mew because he gets blown up, dismantled, and everyone just generally hates Whirl.

1. I realized after posting that they specified idw rather than whirl in general. My reblog has since been edited, my apologies for misleading.

2. I think you're taking this a mite bit too seriously. The point of the contest is not about who has endured greater pain, but who is more pathetic about it. A waterlogged cat is not necessarily going through torture or even pain, but they just look so fucking pathetic about it that you can't help but feel your heart bleed for them.

Whirl, from what I have seen, is less of a sad, pathetic little creature and more like a cool uncle that's been to jail 6 times and desperately needs therapy. While has been through a lot, the difference is how he carries the suffering. Like. Being depressed and having no friends does not make one pathetic. Whirl is suffering, yes, and needs help, but he doesn't carry himself like a sad little limp pasta noodle and his tolerance for misery seems much higher than wasp's. He's more like a pissed off, wounded wolf in that he retains being a badass despite how much pain he is very clearly in and how much help he clearly needs. He gives off vibes of anger and suffering, not weakness and general malcontent.

Waspinator acts like he'd cry if he closed a door a little too loud. He's the kinda guy that would say "aheem heem whimper" out loud. The entire basis of his character is having cartoonishly shitty luck. "I was born with glass bones and paper skin. Every morning I break my legs, and every afternoon I break my arms. At night, I like awake until my heart attacks put me to sleep" tier misery. The universe itself hates him. Every single episode he's in has him get scrapped in some fashion. He's like if the eagle got creative with tearing out Prometheus's liver every day. He is well aware of how hard he in particular is the target of constant injury and pain and he laments it at every opportunity. And on the somewhat heavier side, wasp has no friends either. Hes in the middle of a war on an unfamiliar planet with the most cartoonishly evil and despotic incarnation of Megatron Hasbro has cranked out. He gets sent out alone into battle to die by a boss who does not give a shit about him so many times but primus won't let him die <3 All he can do is mistakenly put his trust into teammates that are perfectly willing to use him as a meat shield. The only two people that were ever kind of nice to him comparatively got melted alive in a pit of lava and slowly replaced with increasingly murderous, sadistic freaks that were equally increasingly willing to tear him apart for fun. He is a sad, wet little freak of a man who has been possessed, shot, crushed, cubed, betrayed, brain damaged, electrocuted, thrown through a wall, screamed at, kicked in the dick, shredded, blown up, dismembered, flattened, decapitated, beaten, burned, buried and more, and each and every time, he has to drag himself back to the repair chamber with whatever limbs are still attached to him (if any) knowing fully well he'll have to do it all again tomorrow and nobody will care enough to ask if he's okay. Waspinator gets so few wins he actively keeps count of the shots he actually lands.

To top it off, wasp actually gets the exact same treatment as whirl in terms of nonconsensual frame adjustments. After flying back to Cybertron from Earth with nothing but his weak lil bug wings (which took millions of years), the second he got back, Megatron ripped his spark out of his shell and used it to power a new mech altogether, which wasp has no say in. He was fully conscious in the new con he was powering, but had zero influence on his actions.

Like. Wasp was fucked from day one and fucked til the end and he bumbled his way through life for the whole series. He went through none of this with a trace of grit nor grace. Waspinator is the definition of cringefail. He's a funny little guy that got fucked over repeatedly because his misery amuses the masses. He's like a plushie you pour milk on and throw at the wall as hard as you possibly can. He's the universe's stress all. Just a sad, sad little gremlin who is somehow still standing and considers that a curse.

#dog why are you starting beef over waspinator propaganda #its a silly 90s cartoon. i promise beast wars is not that serious. #at least not. like. consistently #take a deep breath. calm down. you do not need to get that confrontational. #its a funny skrunkly tournament not the blorbo wars