#also I did most of this from memory so if the costumes are wrong that's 100% on me. this is fern style baby

[pinksilvace]

I am not immune to monochromatic siblings

#titling this one 'the world's most useless coloring page' #and GASP! lineart??? inking??? who'd have thunk. not me #my art #fernart #cats the musical #alonzo cats #victoria cats #mr mistoffelees #the way I gravitate to that specific shade of pink every time... I feel like an absolute clown as I type this and see it next to my pfp #ignore the anatomy shhhh this was silly goofy fun #also I did most of this from memory so if the costumes are wrong that's 100% on me. this is fern style baby

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x fem! Reader [masterlist]

Prev | vol viii

Summary: November 1st, Steve’s birthday celebration, a new friend is brought into the mix, Eddie’s past is revealed.

Trigger Warning: no minors pls, language, drinking, reader wears Eddie’s jacket, fluff, angst.

W/C: 11.5k

@jo-harrington + @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading this a tiny bit for me

The sun is waning through your curtains, blinding your eyes with a light so bright it’s like you’re staring into a flashlight. The ominous whirring of your fan oscillates, sending a chilling breeze across your room

Silently thanking yourself for taking ibuprofen before falling asleep last night, the pounding in your head is minimal, but the scratchy dryness of your throat is a steady reminder of the impromptu karaoke singing and the toe to toe chain smoking contest you bullied Eddie into. Your former drunker self turned cockier with every drink.

“I bet you… this house! This fucking house! That I can smoke more cigarettes than you can at once,” you slurred in a buzzed stupor as you swayed your body with the faint music of REO Speedwagon, your finger pressed into his chest where the fabric v’d open.

Red eyed and already higher than Willie fucking Nelson, Eddie grins wider than the Cheshire Cat, dipping low to your ear to whisper, “game on, sweetheart, but we’re smokin reds not your menthol shit.”

News flash. You couldn’t out smoke Eddie. And your burning croaky throat was proof of that.

Feet on the floor, your cold toes inching towards purchase against the carpet for your slippers. Opening your eyes, you assess the room. The Eddie costume you proudly wore all night, was strewn across your floor, complete with the wig. A rumbly laugh reverberates through your lungs along with a horrendous hacking cough. The memory of Jeff wearing it and imitating Eddie jogs across your mind. The way Eddie pouted and glared through his lashes made you smile sweetly at the memory.

A quick glance at your body in the mirror shows that you’re still wearing the soft black DIO shirt from lastnight, but thankfully you changed into pajama pants.

Another rough barking cough against your already achy throat surrenders it’s vices and begs for water. Opening the door you are met with a freezing chill. Eyes blinking in the bright sun from the windows in the living room, you take note of the heaps of bodies snoring and drooling amongst the floor.

Mike and El are cuddled up like two little kittens against the back corner in the living room, her blonde wig used as a pillow, Mike’s Mad Hatter jacket and his arm draped over her. Finding yourself gawking at the sweetness of seeing them curled into each other, you wonder if you would ever have a great love like they did. Your stomach leaps when the one crossing your mind is Eddie.

It was wrong. You shouldn’t be feeling this way about your brother’s friend, your roommate for fucks sake! He was everything you hated about the male population. Loud, annoying, an absolute pervert. Messy beyond belief, couldn’t boil a goddamn egg. But, he was also gentle, kind, and caring. Your yearning heart ached for his touch like the day he held you close to his chest during your darkest hour.

Not to mention he was cute. Okay, that’s a lie. Eddie was hot, in that rugged ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ kind of way. Different from most guys in Hawkins, who were obsessed with their appearance, their family name. Eddie didn’t care, he was just himself. Always had been, always would be. And something about that cocky demeanor, burying the kindest heart you’ve ever come across, made your heart stutter in your chest.

Would he hold you like Mike was holding El if you were his? Would he cover you in kisses and do cliche things with you like matching couples costumes on Halloween? Something deep inside told you he would.

“Cute aren’t they?”

You jump out of your skin at the low, velvet voice, not realizing he was awake, your hungover mind foregoing the aroma and slow drip of black coffee being made. Too wrapped up in thinking about him to notice that he had approached you on your left, his messy curls swing against your cheek as he had bent down to your ear.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a chuckle.

You turn and look at him, he’s so close to you your noses almost touch. The tickling shock of nervousness from last night returns and travels up your spine, curling into your hair, igniting every hair follicle, a burning welcomed pleasure against your scalp. A quirked smile on his lips as you take a step back.

Blinking slow, you take him in. His smile could melt the polar ice caps, that goddamn panty dropper grin, you curse yourself silently for feeling the heat on your neck. He’s wearing black sweats, cut above the knee and rolled at the hem from many washes. A horrendously sawed off cut t-shirt adorns his broad shoulders. The same raw hems rolling inward, exposing a silver hoop in his nipple. The sun catching the steel ring and casting a blinding glare against it. He tips the coffee mug he’s holding back to his lips, emptying the contents in one gulp. The smell of potent orange juice fills your nose as you stare at his lips. His tongue poked out to lap up the last spilled drops.

“No, you’re fine—I didn’t realize you were up,” you explain, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Peering around him at the small wooden clock on the wall, it’s only 8:30, “didn’t know you were aware that there was an 8:30 AM on Sundays.”

“Are you always this witty in the morning?”

“It’s a gift,” you say with a smirk, “consider it a blessing, you’re late by the way.”

“Late for what?” The lazy way he smiles at you should be a crime.

A coy smile on your lips, “Sunday Service.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and grabs his side, wincing slightly, “agh, don’t make me laugh,” he groans, “I think I fucked up my back or something from falling down those steps last night.”

“…twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…”

Gareth turned his head from the spout engulfing deep breaths from the chilled night air. Argyle and Jonathan let his feet back down to the deck. Standing next to Nancy and Ash, you whoop and holler along with everyone else, cheering on the new Keg Stand Champion. Gareth, stands on wobbly legs, taking a deep breath, he shouts, “And that's how it’s d—“

Before he can finish his victory speech, he projectile vomits all over Big D. Covering him shoulders to waist in foamy chunks of party food and the cheap keg beer. Laughter erupts from Eddie, he throws his wild hair back in amusement. Clutching his stomach and choking on the smoke from the joint he had just inhaled. Karma, proving again that she’s a cunt, Eddie leans back just far enough to fall backwards down the five steps to the ground.

“Jesus down, Jesus down!” Eddie exclaimed, roaring with laughter.

Concerned, you delicately reach for his wrist and move his hand away from his ribs. A small splatter of deep purpling color against his alabaster skin suggests that they are more than likely bruised from the fall. The dainty touch of your fingers on his body sends goosebumps against his flesh, and it wasn’t because your hands were cold. He swallows hard, adoration in his brown eyes as he takes in your smell, how messy your hair was, the hum on your lips as you observe him, pressing the pads of your fingers into his skin.

Who would have thought that simple minuscule touches from you could cause a frenzy in his blood. He thought the hair washing would bring him to his knees, but this? He didn’t realize he stopped breathing until you spoke.

The hitch in his throat is dismissed by you, “sorry, my fingers are probably freezing,”

He murmurs, something along the lines of “it’s fine,” but you barely hear it.

His skin is surprisingly smooth. Women spend hundreds of thousands of dollars in their lifetime to have perfect skin, and here Eddie Munson was, baby soft skin on a metal head’s body. You take the time to admire the exposed tattoo on his ribs next to the bruises. Tracing your finger over the triangled black ink outlined in red, angry against his skin. You’ve seen the symbol before but never understood what it was. An eight laying sideways, in the overlapping section is a cross with two lines instead of one.

Seconds fade to minutes of your fingers tracing his skin. Neither you or Eddie have said a word. Unhurried migrations on your fingers skate across the alabaster, feeling for any broken bones, but only feeling the velour cream of his skin beneath your hands.

Clearing your throat, you look into his blown out eyes, “I —um,” the air is thick between you both, making it hard to breath, or it could be the fact that the caramel pools of his eyes are pouring into yours, “ looks like it’s just bruised,” you say, slowly moving your fingers away from his skin. Your nails scratching his skin casually. And a quick intake of breath hisses between his teeth.

Eddie’s voice comes out shakier than he would have liked, he licks his lips, “o-oh good.”

He casts his eyes downwards, his fingers tug gently at the sleeve of the DIO shirt you’re still wearing from last night. His eyes find yours again, the browned oasis beckoning you, “are you still mad at me for winning the costume contest?” he asks in almost a whisper, lips barely moving, his focus full on the way your soft skin under your shirt feels against his calloused fingers.

The jump in your lower belly ignited the flame within you, sending burning hot coals to your core at his ghosting fingers on your arm. You blink rapidly and scoff. Rolling your eyes to extinguish the flames, you force yourself away from him, brushing past him, your shoulder grazing his chest sends more fire through your veins, a last attempt on keeping the heat blazing. “I was never mad,” you explain. Opening the cabinet with shaky hands and grabbing a white mug with tiny yellow flowers on the rim, you take a deep breath to steady your voice, turning it into a makeshift yawn, “who do you think decides who wins the contest anyway?”

Pouring the hot black coffee into the mug the aroma fills the room. Creamer sloshes against the liquid mixing merrily into a toffee colored dream.

Eddie leans against the counter, taking a piece of candy from the plastic jack-o-lantern dish and twisting the ends between his fingers, the orange hardened sugar melting slow on his tongue.

“You voted for me?” he asks earnestly, his head bowed in bashfulness, “you’re going to make me blush, sweetheart,” he coos, swirling the candy around his mouth, clacking against his teeth as he tries to hide a smile.

Sipping the piping hot coffee gingerly between your lips, you shrug, “not every day I get to see you acting so holy, thought we should capitalize on the opportunity, plus, it really was one hell of a costume.”

The bubblegum blush on Eddie’s cheeks make him look like a teenager, twisting his hair as if he just received his first kiss.

“I don’t know, I kinda liked yours,” he said matter of factly.

“That’s cause you’re full of yourself,” you say with a teasing tone, sticking out your tongue, and coughing roughly again.

Eddie’s eyebrows pull inward, a mocked scoff on his lips, “I refuse to take insults from someone who sounds like my Uncle Wayne— told you you couldn’t hang with the big dogs— but no, Tooty doesn’t listen.”

You dismiss him with a suggestive middle finger and a smirk as you sip the coffee again, “I can do anything I want, you’re not my babysitter.”

Neither of you knew that Robin and Steve were both awake, listening intently to your light banter, your giggling voices as you teased each other. The way yours pitched in a high squeal when Eddie’s hands tickled your sides and you tried to fight him off with the paper towel row.

The two friends sit side by side on the couch, smiling widely at one another, wondering when you would let eachother in.

-

It was noon before Gareth woke up, a combination of dried puke and drool on his face. The other four party go-ers had already left and did the sad walk of shame out to their vehicles. Both Robin and Steve give you weird looks and wide glances all morning, you even noticed Steve wiggling his eyebrows.

Yawning and reeking of alcohol. The loud snores from Gareth’s slack mouth could awaken the residents lying 6 feet under in East Hawkins. He’s laying with his head in a popcorn bowl, a poorly drawn sharpie penis crudely coloring his cheek, thanks to Eddie. The cold puke slowly oozing from the bowl onto himself has your stomach lurching.

Eddie finally woke him by shaking his shoulders violently, yelling into his face, “dude! You’re gonna rattle the fucking house off the foundation with that deafening snore, Christ almighty!”

Gareth stirred alive, swinging his arms frantically. “Fuck, man, scare the hell out of me why don’t ya!”

“Oh relax, trust me— it was either this or the Tooty method,” Eddie says with a grin motioning to you standing behind his shoulder holding a cup of cold water, a devilish smirk on your face, “seriously though, get up you smell like two-week-old rotten asshole.”

After Gareth and Eddie argue over why he has a dick drawn on his face, and Eddie swearing it wasn’t him, Gareth bumps his fist into Eddie’s and waves goodbye as he stands at the front door, and addresses you, “helluva party Tooty, hopefully I didn’t make too much of a mess and you’ll invite me again next year,” his easy smile is something you’ve never seen directed at you. Of all Eddie’s bandmates, Gareth was the hardest to read.

“Duh, you’re the reigning keg stand champion, you gotta make a return,” you smile back.

Gareth laughs, his floppy thick hair matted from the habit he wore all night, “think my keg stand days are over.” He looks from you to Eddie, watching the way Eddie smiles at you adoringly, and he starts to finally get it. Understand why his friend acts the way he does around you. You’re easy to talk to, friendly, kind, once you let your guard down. He looks to Eddie again as you turn and walk back to the kitchen, giving him a knowing glance shifting his eyes to you, and nodding his head once in approval, “see ya around dickhead,” he jokes to his oldest friend, his role model, his brother.

-

“Why the fuck do I have to wear this?” Eddie groans, pulling at the stiff collar on his shirt, buttoned too tight around his neck, not used to material that wasn’t leather or soft cotton, the metalhead was crabby and uncomfortable in the borrowed maroon button down shirt and black skinny tie from Harrington, “I look like a bible salesmen!”

Steve’s birthday was tonight and he requested to have dinner at his favorite restaurant in Indianapolis. He had gotten a big promotion at work the week after Halloween and was in need of a little celebration before the task of being executive director started.

Slotting silver iridescent dangly earrings you had borrowed from Nancy into your ears and adjusting the matching choker against your throat, you take the last curler out from your hair and fluff it with your fingers to give it shape. You holler from closed confinements of your room, “it’s for Steve’s birthday, not your birthday— quit being a big baby!”

Stepping your tights into the borrowed black velvet pointed heels, and smoothed down the black velour mini dress with the spaghetti straps you had bought last week from an ad in the paper about selling prom dresses for cheap. The material was snug against your curves fitting like a glove. Your makeup was darker than you would have normally done on any other given day but since this was such a fancy event for one of your closest friends— you smoked out a brown eyeshadow across your lids and added a heavy coat of mascara to your lashes with a thin line of eyeliner. Your favorite lipstick swiped delicately across your lips.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you are pleased at your reflection. A patch of doubt trickles up your chest making you question if you should change. Is it too much? Is it over the top? But all that comes to a halt when loud banging is heard on your door. Stopping your spiraling shame cold in its tracks.

“Tooty?” Eddie raps on the door, “Steve just pulled up. You ready or are we leaving your ass at h—”

For the first time in Eddie’s life he is speechless. Not counting the time that his jaw was wired shut for 6 months when he took his skateboard off the roof of Gareth’s house in middle school.

Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, dry and itchy like eighty grade sandpaper. His eyebrows are lifted, tucked beneath his bangs. It’s as if everything was going in slow motion, he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, he was stunned by the drop dead gorgeous woman in front of him.

Your beauty wasn’t something that just happened in a movie with you pouncing down the stairs to some cheesy song with your friends clapping at the top and high-fiving over their “miracle makeover”. Eddie just simply wasn’t accustomed to seeing you dressed up like this.

It’s taking everything in him to not spring forward like a rabid dog and close the gap between you. Slot his lips against yours. A desperate, needy kiss so full of urgency that your head would spin. He’d keep you in the spinning wonderland until both of you were seconds from passing out. Dizzy from the floating clouds and blissful euphoria soaring around in his arms. He wants to grab your waist, wants to fist his fingers around the nape of your neck, wants to see the way your mouth would open with a gasp as he kissed your collar bone, so sweetly, so delicately— his name a whisper on your breath. He’d kiss your lips until they were chapped, sore, and tender to match his. Then he’d kiss them better, his lips the antidote, curing your craved pain.

He’d give anything— his van, his guitar, the band whatever it took— just to get a taste. In this dream land he’s everything you wanted, everything you needed. You loved him, adored him. Accepted his flaws, his past, his scars. He’d hold you tight while you slept, your head tucked into the crook of his neck, stealing sleepy kisses on your hair, enamored by the perfume of your hair, intoxicated, drugged by the lust of your skin. He’d learn how to cook, make you delicious meals, clean the house, do the laundry, be the perfect man. All for you.

He wanted to feel your body forming and molding around him. Yearned to know the valleys of your body, each curve, each beauty mark, each scar visible or not. If it weren’t for his heart hammering into his ears he would have thought he had gone deaf for sure.

You’re talking but he can’t hear you.

He’s still in the dream land, dancing on Saturn’s rings, cooling his feet in Jupiter’s springs, holding your hand and taking you higher with him. Your smile taking flight in his chest and ascending you along the majestic sights of the Milky Way. Completely gone from this world. A world where you were his, and he was yours.

The more he fantasizes it— the more the impossibility of this dream increases. His bravado falls, crashing through the sparkly dream with fluffy clouds, falling further down. Away from you. Away from the dream he wanted, craved to be reality.

He fell through the clouds, clinging to your fingers, would you reach out for him? Help him? Save him?

Would you ever want to be his? He was Eyeball’s friend, Prince of the Trailer Park, probably annoyed you more than Eyeball himself did. You were beautiful and put together, and him? He was lint in the dryer, causing house fires when forgotten about. Voted most likely to end up in prison for the graduating class of ‘85 and ‘86. A failure, a crack in the sidewalk you’d avoid to break your mother’s back as a kid.

Avoid the trailer park trash. Avoid Eddie Munson.

So he pushed the thoughts away, the ooey galaxy of cotton candy trees and rainbow lollipops— fading back to black as he fell faster harder, back to reality. The dead, decaying ashen life of shitville Hawkins, Indiana. Where reality came in the form of working long days to barely survive. A name branded to his soul, weathered and tarnished like forgotten silverware in a rich dementia riddled woman’s home.

Nothing. Munson trash. The town freak. Social outcast. Scum in the drain. Bastard child.

“Earth to Eddie!”

A snap of your fingers and the impatient wrinkles between your brow bring his soul back to his body.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, wiping his clammy palms on the thighs of the cleanest pair of black jeans he owned, “We—uh,” blush creeps to his cheeks, adamant to push it down, to the cobwebbed box in his brain that never opened, he grabs your hand and starts to yank you towards the door, a gruff annoyance in his voice, “let’s go.”

You’re crestfallen.

Oblivious to his inner intergalactic battles of hoping that he was good enough for you but deep down knowing he never would be.

Not anywhere near the suaveness of Casanova he pretends to possess on most days, motor-mouth Munson was all out of gas. Spending his last tank, last drop of fuel taking you to the moon and spinning you amongst the stars.

-

Steve is wearing a black suit, standing against a new SUV, shiny ink black like the velvet of your dress, and the pretty girl’s hair standing next to him, she’s wearing a purple velour sweetheart neckline dress, with rhinestone straps, her shoulders are bare until the dress continues to cover her arms, into a full sleeve. Robin is hanging out of the back passenger side window, a tie hung loosely around her neck and a white button down tailored shirt adorning her body. Waving a bottle of Boonesfarm around.

“Come on! Let’s party like it’s 1984! Before Steve had this new bitchin’ car and still half of his virgini—“

“Robin!” Steve scolds, threading his fingers through his hair, the girl on his arm shooting Robin a pleasurable laugh, her hand on Steve’s chest.

Eddie is still dragging you along, hurrying you along. In a rush but not saying a word. “Eddie, Jesus Christ, stop, I have to get my purse,” you yank your wrist from his grip and take a step backward. Silent and fuming, your arms crossed over your chest. Looking up at him with water brimmed eyes, corners of your mouth turned downward in a confused frown.

It’s the same expression he had seen during the first few days he had moved in, when he hurt you.

Shaking his head with a huff he descends the concrete steps and stands next to Robin, clutching the Boonesfarm bottle and taking a long hefty swig, wallowing in his own self pity and self doubt of never being good enough for you.

Of course this is how it would be with you. Why would you ever want him when there are people like Steve Harrington in the world. Offering you anything and everything you could ever need. And what could he offer you? Nothing. A tainted name and a ring pop replacing a diamond.

He wasn’t good enough for Chrissy, wasn’t good enough for Trish. How would you be any different? Swallowing his pride with each swig of the sugary Boonesfarm, he tries his hardest to push the idea of you wanting to be with him, wanting anything other than someone to take up space and pay rent on time, out of his mind.

“Tooty,” Steve says, waving you over once you shut the door to the house and locked it, “Eddie, this is Leighanne, my girlfriend.”

A smile breaks on your face, pure unadulterated joy for your friend. The way his face lit up saying girlfriend, the way they’re clutched together, a perfect match, him looking adoringly into her face, staring in wonder and awe as she beams a radiating light back up to him— it’s sugar sweet.

A low ache in your chest fires again, whatever had burned for Eddie was now boiling on high heat but the pot was empty.

You thought that maybe he… hadn’t he? The bitter truth stinging your tongue, not admitting it to yourself. Not allowing yourself to think any further on the subject, you extend your smile to Leighanne. Pleasantries in your voice as you push down your own worrying heart and open it up to hear all about how Leighanne and Steve met.

“Damn, new fancy job and a car to match— never seen one of these in real life before Harrington.”

Steve dives into the story of him trading in his car for the G Wagon, a year old and less than 10,000 miles. Eddie asked questions and walked around the vehicle with Steve as he kicked the tires and inspected the paint job.

The ride to Indianapolis was full of Leighanne’s bright laugh, teasing Steve and joking with Robin. Her fingers never unlaced from his. She was funny, charismatic in a way that complimented Steve. You’re stuffed in the middle in the backseat. Robin on your left and Eddie on your right, preoccupied with staring out the window.

He’s brooding, steeping like a tea bag in the heat of the sun. Only he’s cold, off putting and sulking. Not engaging once in conversation other than. Answering yes or no to Steve’s questions, giving little up.

And you were doing the same, trying hard to focus on what Robin and Leighanne were giggling about but finding Eddie’s bad mood taking you over. His pitch black aura sucking you in and consuming you. Dampening the celebratory night for your friend that hasn’t even begun because he’s irritated by God knows what. It’s the longest ride to Indianapolis you’ve experienced yet.

The restaurant is burnt brick with an old prohibition era feel to it. Low jazz music is playing by a live band in the back corner. Reservations for Harrington bring the five of you to a secluded area low lit with hues of blacks and coppers and mahogany wood filling the space, setting the ambience for a private affair. The round table is set with a cream colored silk cloth that alone probably cost more than the value of your house.

Steve pulls out a chair for Leighanne. A pinky rouge on her cheeks as she sits down delicately. Robin climbs next to her, body angled towards her, her feet on the seat of her chair.

Taking the seat next to Robin, Eddie takes the seat next to you, angling it ever so slightly away from you, his right elbow on the table, head facing away from you.

What the fuck?

Two waiters arrive holding a large round platter filled with various selections of wines, whiskey, and beers in stout glasses. Each one filled to the brim of the finest liquor ranging in black browned ale to lighter amber on one side, the others full of their house made brew, an inch head of foam in each glass, and wine ranging from white to a deep burgundy red.

Before the waiter can even walk away Eddie has two glasses of the dark colored whiskey in front of him, shooting them down like he’s at a high school party and has a curfew. “Shit man, these are for sipping, ya gotta ease into it a little,” Steve says with a chuckle. Eddie grabs another glass from the circle of the platter, sipping it slow between his lips, letting the fervor of the liquor burn his mouth, welcoming the burn.

-

Eddie hasn’t said a word to you all night. In fact— he’s ignoring you. Usually the first to start joking around, he’s completely sullen, sinking into his bad mood letting the veil of self loathing cover himself like a blanket, choking his insides. He’d converse with everyone but you. “Can you pass the pepper,” you’d asked after laughing obnoxiously with Leighanne about how Steve couldn’t throw a punch to save his life.

Silence.

“Eddie?” You ask again, “can you please pass me the pepper?”

Another ignored moment of silence from the brooding metalhead.

“Eddie! Hello!?”

Nothing.

A swift kick from Steve to the shins finally roused him alive, blinking his eyes slowly away from his glass, thumb moving over the condensation. “Dude—Tooty needs the pepper.”

Eddie looks at the pepper shaker with hooded, bored eyes, far from the conversation around the table. Trapped in the black box of dread in his mind. He scoots it closer to you but not enough by far. Scooting your chair back with a screech, you stand and lean across him, fully in his space. Encroaching on his doomed self with your perfume wafting into his nose. Your hairspray stinging his eyes when your hair brushes over your shoulder in front of him. It’s intoxicating. The way your necklace catches the light, as you lean over him hits his chest like a lightning bolt. b

A quick turn of your face and he catches your glare, heated and angry, but his eyes are soft, solemn, sad.

“Thanks, Eddie— really appreciate you helping me out there. Next time I’ll just lay across the table when I need something, or I could simply go fuck myself if that’s easier for you? Don’t want to interrupt whatever the fuck you’ve got going on.” you spit, venom on your lips dripping from your teeth as you aggressively shake the pepper on the salad.

Eddie stands abruptly, “going for a smoke,” he says to nobody in particular, Steve stands and follows him out, with the helping nudge of Leighanne’s elbow in his ribs.

The two guys strut outside, breathing in the night air, a flick of lighters and the burning, crinkling sound of the end of two cigarettes fills the almost barren sidewalk. A minute or so passes before Steve speaks first, “nice night out, considering it’s the middle of November.”

Eddie only nods, inhaling the smoke and trying to relax.

“You alright?”

Again, Eddie only answers with body movements, shrugging his shoulders, blowing smoke through his nose.

Steve inhaled his cigarette slow, “Tooty looks nice tonight.”

Eddie bites his bottom lip and rubs his eyes with this thumb. Smoke curling around him in a makeshift halo. “Yeah,” he finally speaks, nodding his head, a huffed chuckle on his lips, “she does, doesn’t she?”

“What’s going on, man?” Steve questions, “last I knew you were head over heels for her— now you’re ignoring her and acting like a jackass in there.” He says pointing to the door, “you’re gonna fuck this up before you’ve even let it start!”

Eddie shoves himself off the wall, the cobwebs on the box in his mind where he stored his pain, were wiped away, fingerprints on the lid, “oh give it up, Harrington.” Rubbing his hands down his face with a groan, “I’m— fuck, I’m so fucking stupid. Falling for someone like her.”

“What do you mean someone like her?” Steve asks frustrated, “fuck man you really are dumb aren’t you?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his chest puffed out in confusion, “this isn’t like some magic eight ball shaking it to see if your crush likes you Steve! That’s not how shit works!”

“You’re a dumbass! Even I can see that she’s hurt by the way you’re acting!” Steve shouts, stomping out his cigarette.

“Dude I’m not talking about this right now, back off,” Eddie pleads, flicking his cigarette into the street and attempting to walk around Steve.

“Why are you being an asshole and trying to shove her away?” Steve goads.

“I’m not.” Lid is off the box, contents exposed.

“Don’t be a douche fucking tell me!”

“Because she’s too fucking good for me!” Eddie finally screams into the night, throwing his hands up in the air.

The box is dumped out. Contents spilled out in his mind, hurt behind his eyes, for anyone to see.

He hangs his head, shoulders slumped forward, he slides down the wall and sits on the cool concrete, breathing heavily, “She’s— fuck, she’s never gonna want to be with someone like me, man.”

All of his self doubt from earlier tonight, all the pain he’s ever felt from being a neglected child, an outcast in school amongst his peers, being cheated on, lied to— it all came crashing down around him. All the alcohol he consumed wasn’t helping matters either.

He was a failure, in more ways than he could count. Twenty-six and just freshly moved out of his uncle’s place. Twenty-six and still playing in a band at the bar on the weekends. Twenty-six and still alone. Horribly, utterly, bitterly alone. Drowning himself in groupie pussy every night before he moved in with you. He hated himself.

“Has she said that? Did you ever think that maybe she doesn’t care what anyone else thinks? You think it was easy for her to stay in Hawkins after her parents up and left? After Kevin was thrown in prison? After that piece of shit Chad Cunningham hurt her? If there’s anything we know about Tooty it’s that she’s a fighter, she could have left at any time, packed her shit and never looked in the rear view mirror. But you and I know that she’s too damn stubborn to let Hawkins get the best of her.”

Eddie lifts his head, looking at Steve sitting beside him.

“She needs you, man, you’re good for her.”

Mansion dreams on a trailer park budget. He could never afford the things you deserved. He loathed the thought of anyone else being able to give you the things he couldn’t, the pit of his stomach rolling.

“I don’t know, Steve,” Eddie says, timidly throwing his curly head against the brick behind him, “I saw her today all dressed up looking so absolutely gorgeous, and it hit me, I could never give her the life she deserves.”

“Come on, man,” Steve chides, knocking his shoulder to Eddie’s, “you really think I would have told you about her needing a roommate and insisting that you go and look at the house, if I didn’t think you’d be good for each other?”

Eddie shrugs his shoulders again, the self doubt creeping back, putting the box back together.

“After Nancy moved out, I knew she was scared— she’d never say anything about it, but we worried about it. She needed someone around who she could trust. Robin and I couldn’t get out of our lease, but then you told me you were looking for a place, and honestly there isn’t anyone better for her than you.”

Eddie thinks on this for a few seconds. Steve was right, he did fuck this up. “Christ, she’s probably madder than hell at me right now,” he says with a groan.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, standing and holding out a hand for Eddie, “you’ve got some making up to do.”

-

“Am I drunk, or is he acting weird as hell tonight, like more weird than usual?” Robin slurs, almost falling out of her seat as she whisper-yells across the table at you the minute Steve follows Eddie out the door.

“Oh, honey,” Leighanne whispers, holding Robin by her arm and guiding her back into the chair, “you’re very drunk, but also I’ve never met him, but he seems sad.”

Stewing in a pot of shame and regret, you try to tune Robin and Leighanne out. A shiver of hatred stirs in your chest, pulling at your heart strings and gnawing on the fleshy stretch cords until they’re rotting, black and withered.

How silly of you to be so nervous about wearing this dress, when Eddie only took one look at you and immediately turned sour. How stupid of you to think that he had somehow turned into a decent human being, a friend, a confidant, a shoulder to cry on when you were desperate and needing consoling. How fucking dumb of you to be so mad in this moment that he was ignoring you, acting like a complete jerk and ruining this nice evening by being a pouty child.

Fuck him, and fuck this.

Reaching for the now warm wine you toss it back, chugging until your throat ached. It’s easier to swallow than the embarrassing way you thought that Eddie was growing to like you. Your mistake.

Won’t happen again.

-

By the time the guys come back, you were slightly buzzed, feeling giggling with the bubbling of the flutes of champagne that had been brought out after the dinner was cleared from the table.

Steve slaps Eddie on the back and shakes his shoulders a bit, sitting down quickly beside Leighanne and whispering into her ear, she turns scarlet red as he nudges his nose down to kiss her neck. You turn your face away, ashamed again, for wanting a love like that so bad, yet sold short.

“You okay?” Robin asks Eddie. You can feel eyes on you, burning into the side of your face, but you won’t give him the time of day. To hell with him.

He answers her back, making up some lame excuse about not feeling good as to why he was acting like an asshole all night.

“Hmm,” you hum, raising your eyebrows and huffing. Tossing your napkin from your lap onto the table, grabbing another flute of champagne and downing it instantly, crossing your legs and leaning further away from him. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Tooty?” His voice is soft, dipped in butter and spread across a warm croissant. Almost timid the way he’s barely speaking above a whisper, you pretend not to hear him.

A nudge in your side goes unanswered as you turn your face towards an almost passed out Robin. Another poke to the ribs, a ticklish spot for anyone. A tap on your hand, fervent and annoying, your name repeated in high and low tones, as you actively avoid him. He finally stops, and when he does you take a shaky breath, right as your chair is flung backwards on the back legs, and you’re suddenly upside down, peering into Eddie’s face. That cocky Munson grin plastered onto it, the one you haven’t seen all night, sends shock waves to your core, and a burn to your chest.

Goddamn him.

“Put me down,” you emphasize with bitterness behind each word.

Eddie smiles widely, “not until you talk to me, sweetheart,”

“Oh look at that everyone, the pouting child act is over, guess we are blessed after all,” you spit back, crossing your arms and trying to wriggle the chair free.

His smile is pulled back slightly, voice dipped low as he leans forward slightly, “can we talk? Privately?”

You glare back at him, venomous cold eyes peering into his, hoping he understood how annoyed and hurt you were with the bullshit he’d been pulling for hours, “Congratulations on finding your voice Ariel, but if you don’t put my chair down I’ll—“

“What? You’ll do what?” Eddie bickers back with a grin, leaning closer you can smell his musky cologne, and the burnt scent of his cigarette on his breath. He enjoys watching you squirm and get pissed off at him. Something about the way you scold him sends him over the moon.

But, he could never anticipate what you would do next.

His hands on the back of your chair, you turn your head in a swift motion and find his thumb and bite down on it until he squeals and yelps in pain.

“…bite you,”

Instinct taking over Eddie pulls his hands from the back of your chair. And you start tumbling backwards. Falling falling, reaching backwards, you grab onto the first thing you can get your frantic hands on.

It all happens too fast, one minute you’re falling backwards, the next your fingers are gripped tight on the buckle of Eddie’s belt. Your breath hitched in your chest, as you grappled to stay upwards. In a swift motion Eddie grabs under your arms and the chair falls to the ground.

Eddie pulls you up, your body skimming his as he turns you around to face him. “Damn, I’m right here. No need to get so handsy,” he murmurs in a low husky laugh.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, sudden shock of fear fading from your body as you look into his face. Even though he’s laughing, his pupils are blown and dark, eyebrows twisted inward, and raised, pulled into concern.

“Fuck Munson,” you say, straightening your dress, trying not to melt from the heat of Eddie’s hands on your waist, “trying to kill me?” The room was spinning, you hadn’t hit your head, but maybe the rush of falling backwards mixed with the alcohol you had drank was a combination for a migraine. Definitely not the way he was lazily drinking you in, his lips stretching into a wide, pretty smile.

“Kill you?” He scoffs, hands still heavy on your waist, rubbing slow circles with his thumbs, sending your nerves into a fizzing frenzy of want. “I’m not the one biting others, kitten.”

Of all the nicknames Eddie has called you— princess, sweetheart, baby— kitten was a new one. And you’re ashamed at the pulse in your core and the heat in your cheeks as his eyes twinkle like brown Christmas lights back at you, the flick of his tongue against his lips almost sends you into cardiac arrest.

“Hey—“ Steve interrupts, stepping into your peripheral vision, “—don’t mean to break this up—but we have a problem.”

-

“Alright guys, good news or bad news?”

Steve steps through the lobby door to the sidewalk, where you, Leighanne, Robin and Eddie were all waiting for him. The chill of the night air is biting through your tights and stinging your cheeks. Even in the cozy musky warmth of Eddie’s leather jacket that he insisted on you wearing, after listening to your chattering teeth for ten minutes, “here,” he announced, stopping abruptly and shucking the jacket off his arms, and wrapping it around your shoulders, “I swear you’re gonna chip your teeth with the way you’re chattering them, it’s annoying,” he said in a faux grumble, his voice mean but his face lighting up when you hurriedly slot your arms through his jacket. Inhaling his smoke musk and cool leather combination as it dizzied your mind.

Ever since the restaurant kicked you all out on account of being too drunk, you’d been walking to a hotel. The restaurant manager had refused to let Steve get his car from the valet because they thought he was too intoxicated to drive. And also denied him from using the phone to hail a cab. There was no other choice.

So that's what led you all here. Walking fifteen blocks— in heels, dresses and fancy shirts, to the nearest hotel. Well technically thirty blocks because the waiter gave Steve the wrong directions. Everyone was freezing, tired and crabby. The drunken happy stage left about twenty blocks back.

“Bad news, Harrington hit me,” Eddie gripes.

Steve brushes his fingers through his hair, “Okay, uhh—bad news… there’s only one room available, with two beds.”

“But, there’s one… two…three..four.. six of us!” Robin counts, hiccuping loudly and letting a giggle escape her slack mouth. Maybe the restaurant wasn’t wrong in kicking you all out after all.

“No— there’s five of us, but there is a chair!” Steve chimes, “that’s the good news!”

You knew what that meant, obviously you would be sharing a bed with Robin or Eddie, and given the fact that Robin was probably a good ten minutes away before she started throwing up like she was notorious for— you were about to share a bed with Eddie.

-

The room was small but decent. Maroon, itchy bedspreads with pilling fabric sat atop the beds, white linen sheets and overly stuffed pillows with matching cases shoved into the perfectly made beds. A tiny tv sat atop a chestnut dresser complete with channel listings and a remote velcroed to it. Leighanne crosses the room and immediately finds the furnace, cranking it up as high as it will go and shutting the drapes, she sits on the bed furthest from it, and begins taking her earrings out of her ears. Sighing with relief as the heavy dangly bejeweled gems clink onto the bedside table. Steve sits beside her, leaning forward and grabbing her ankle, delicately sliding the strappy heels from her sore feet, rubbing them between his hands and murmuring apologies to her, kissing her shoulder.

Eddie is kicking the toe of his boot into the carpet, hands pushed into his pockets and looking downward. The awkward question of who-will-sleep-where is weighing heavy on your mind, just when you’re about to ask him what he thinks, Robin pushes between you both and makes a mad dash to the bathroom. Like clockwork.

“I’m never letting her drink again!” Steve says with a huff, “every time, she does this every single time!”

You snort out an exhausted giggle, this night went to hell in a handbasket the minute you left Hawkins. The only thing left to do was laugh about it.

Leaning your body against the wall, you carefully step out of your heels, the dingy carpet a glorious welcome to your aching feet. Stretching your toes out and wiggling them against the carpet brings a sigh to your lips.

Body tired from the constant shivering and cramped calves, you couldn’t wait to get the dress off and feel the warmth of the blanket around you, cocooning yourself like a caterpillar in a chrysalis.

Fuck.

You didn’t have any clothes with you, just the dress you were wearing, tights and a black thong. If it was Eddie you’d be sharing a bed with, what the hell were you supposed to wear? The thought hadn’t even trickled into your mind until this very second as you noticed Eddie unlace his boots.

Panic riddles your body, fuck would you lay naked next to him? Should you keep the dress on?

“Hey,” Eddie whispers into your ear, reigning you back in with his velvet voice, “there’s a vending machine by the elevator, wanna come with me?”

His lips contort into a smirk, and his hair wisps against your cheek, tickling your skin as you turn into him. Still wearing his jacket the neckline covers your mouth and nose as you nod your head yes.

-

The low pile fibers of the emerald and turquoise hallway carpet feels plush and luxurious against your nylon toes. A welcomed dream to your throbbing feet. You focus on the intricate leaves pattern as you walk the hallway with Eddie, his socked feet thudding along softly in tandem with yours.

The silence is deafening, and you can practically hear your heart beat out of your chest when his knuckles ever so gently, ever so delicately, graze yours as he swings his hand when he walks.

“Think it’s this way,” Eddie says pointing a thick ringed finger down a hallway at a T intersection. “I’m so hungry I’m going to eat the carpet if I don’t find something to eat.”

“Should have ate while we were at the restaurant,” you poke at him, “but you were too busy being an asshole.”

Eddie chokes out a throaty laugh, “I saved your life, Tooty— how am I still an asshole?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call me-falling-because-you-tipped-my-chair-backwards saving my life, but whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” you barely choke out the last part before you burst into a too-tired giggle, hiding your mouth with the collar of his jacket.

His own nickname on your lips burns his insides, mocking or not he wanted to hear it again and again.

“You fight dirty, I had no idea you were into biting.” Eddie teases, his eyes bright and playful matching his smirk, the vending machine comes into view and his eyes light up even more, “oh fuck yeah, come to daddy!”

The black vending machine is lit with a flickering light over head. Eddie thumbs through his wallet and grabs out ten one dollar bills.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Eddie crooned, “pick your vice.”

Deciding on a package of orange squared crackers with cheese, Eddie buys a bag of chocolate cookies, chips, and two bags of candy.

Carrying five cans of pop from the pop machine and Eddie’s plethora of snacks, both of your arms are full.

“So back to you assaulting me—I’m going to take your dental record down to Hopper— I’m turning you in.”

Laughing harder than anyone should have at midnight, your laugh echoes off he walls and bounces around the hallway. Making Eddie’s heart soar with glee. “Turning me in huh?”

Eddie knocks his shoulder into yours, throwing you off balance slightly, “yeah, I’m turning you in, you could have rabies! And I could start foaming at the mouth in my sleep, you’re dangerous and when I get home I’m taking you to the vet!”

The flirty banter is undeniable between you, his giggles match yours as you pad slowly down the hallway. Cheeks burning, coy smiles filling the empty hallway.

Stopping in the hallway with one hip thrown out and a perfectly placed look of innocence on your face you ask in the sweetest voice you could muster, “I’m dangerous? Me?” Making sure you bat your lashes and pout your bottom lip.

Here it was, his opportunity to show you what you really meant to him. No longer laughing, his face turns very serious. Shuffling the snacks around in his arms so he has a hand free, he reaches up to your face, tracing the outline of your jaw and brushing the pad of his thumb delicately against your cheek.

“Baby,” he whispers, that velvet smooth voice on his tongue, eyes dipped in gold and yearning into your own, “I wouldn’t turn this cute face in even if you murdered that son-of-a-bitch, Mr. Derry.”

Heart rate increases, you’re sure there's a pulse where Eddie’s hand is placed on your cheek. The calloused pads of his thumbs stroking your cheek has you weak in the knees. Tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“Cute?” You exclaim, feigning shock, heat trickling up your neck and planting itself into your cheeks, the warmth spreading below Eddie’s hand.

His eyes are trained on yours, flicking from your lips and back up again, and you know whatever he says next 100%, without a doubt shouldn’t be taken lightly.

“Tooty,” Eddie breathes, his voice melting around you, forming to every cell in your body and holding you tight. “You’re beautiful, and not just tonight…every single day.”

No one.

Not your parents.

Definitely, not Chad.

Nobody.

Has ever uttered those words to you. The final wall around your heart falls, crumbling at the base with Eddie holding a sledge hammer to it, begging to be let in.

This menace, prick, pervert, absolutely disgusting man. Has made you fall for him and without words has made it clear that he’s falling for you too.

Butterflies tickle your stomach the rest of the walk back to the room.

-

Steve and Leighanne are already asleep by the time you make it back, she’s wrapped tight against his bare chest, a hand threaded at the nape of his neck and through the tufts of his chest hair. His lips lay lazily against her forehead.

Robin took the comforter from the other bed and made a makeshift bed in the tub, Eddie places a can of 7-UP next to her, rustling her hair and making sure she’ll be okay for the night.

Flipping through the channels and leaning your back against the headboard, you find an episode of the Golden Girls, opening your snack crackers and nibbling into them,a can of Pepsi nestled between your knees. Eddie runs and jumps onto the bed beside you and starts ripping open his snacks, starting with the chips, and cracking open a can of Mountain Dew. Chugging the lime colored liquid until it drops down his chin.

He lets out a louder than life belch and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Looking over at you to see if you’re impressed.

You raise up ten fingers and clap, applauding his behavior.

“I’d like to thank my fans, and the Pepsi company, for encouraging the best of burps, with the help of carbonation.” He bows and waves like he’s at the academy awards and you giggle along with him.

You both stay like that for a while, on top of the blankets, watching the Golden Girls and eating snacks, content with filling your stomachs with crappy food and over carbonated beverages.

-

The looming idea of sleeping in the same bed with Eddie is no longer something you can avoid, when a loud yawn escapes your body and has you snuggling deeper into his leather jacket.

“I—I can sleep in the chair, or on the floor.” He says quickly.

The idea of him sleeping on the floor or with a strained neck in the office chair is unacceptable to you. “No, you can sleep in the bed with me, we can—“ thinking fast for an easy solution, “we can just use different blankets.”

“Oh good,” Eddie whispers, taking off his already loosened tie, and unbuttoning his shirt, “because I would bet a million dollars that you’re a blanket thief.”

Laughing and unzipping his leather jacket, you smirk, hanging it on the back of the chair, “how do you have the vocabulary of a ten year old and a foul sailor all at the same time?”

Eddie unzips his pants and untangles his legs from the dark denim, sitting on the bed with a groan in just his boxer briefs, “I’m like a poor Peter Pan, who grew up on the wrong side of tracks, I’ll never grow up.”

Foregoing any previous thoughts of keeping the dress on, you decide to take it off, exhausted from the night, the cold seeping into your bones and chilling them made you almost delirious with needing sleep, “Can you—will you close your eyes?” You ask in a hushed voice, “at least until I lay down?”

Eddie yanks hard on the sheet and wraps it around his head in a giant makeshift blindfold. “Will this work?”

This angle gives you free range to see his body. It’s not as if you haven’t seen him like this before, but this time it felt different. Every inch of his creamed colored skin, every inky smoked out line of tattoos, the veins protruding from his muscled arms, the ruddy roughness of his knuckles, ghosting with the silver rings on his fingers and in his nipples. The fading sun colored bruises on his ribs. You could write sonnets on the way his breath expands his chest and falls back flush with the rest of his body.

It’s hard to peel your eyes away, but you manage, grabbing your dress by the bottom hem lifting it off of your body. Sliding the tights down your legs until you are completely naked besides the silk black thong. Covering yourself with the off white cotton threaded blanket on the bed, you wrap it around you and sit delicately on the other side of the bed, facing the window, and the furnace.

“I’m done,” you announce, laying your head onto the goose feather pillow and facing Eddie, curling your legs to your chest. Taking slow breaths through your nose to even out your nerves and settle yourself down, the excitement of laying next to Eddie in a bed with both of you only wearing underwear has your body throbbing.

“Finally!” He exaggerates, “were you wearing a dress from the 1800s with all those fancy layers?”

“I was having some trouble with the zipper,” you lie.

“Funny—“ Eddie preens, “I didn’t see a zipper on your dress.”

The idea of him watching you, eyes stuck on your silhouette all night, through dinner, walking to the hotel, makes you feel less bad about staring at him before you crawled into bed. You clench your thighs together.

“How would you know there wasn’t a zipper? Unless of course— you were gawking.”

Two can play this game, and what Eddie didn’t realize is that you’d gotten pretty good at bantering with him.

“Why would you say your dress had a zipper when it didn’t? Maybe you were the one gawking, I mean I get it sweetheart, I’m funny and sexy. Double whammy.”

“Good night, Eddie.” You say with a final laugh. “And I swear to God, if this bed starts jerking in any way—I’ll shave your head and bleach your eyebrows.”

He lets out a laugh loud enough that it makes Steve roll over, scolding you both, about the time and needing to get some sleep. Always in mom mode.

“Sorry dad,” Eddie whispers, giggling like a little kid as he tucks himself in, and turns off the tv and the light between the two beds.

You close your eyes and breathe deeply, allowing sleep to take over your body. Sleep finds you quickly, a deep dreamless sleep, you aren’t sure if you’re awake or not when you feel a pair of lips on the crown of your hair line, a hand moving your hair away from your face, and a voice whispering to you, “good night, pretty girl.”

-

The next morning, Steve drops you and Eddie off at your house. The ride home seemed to drag on forever, everyone was hungover and trying to stay awake. Robin having her head out of the window for most of the drive. Still gagging from the night before.

Getting into Hawkins, Eddie turns towards you, a menacing smirk on his lips and a devil gleam in his eyes, “rock, paper scissors for dibs on first shower?”

“You’re on Munson,”

-

“I just don’t understand how paper beats rock!” Eddie complains as he takes a piss talking to you as you take a shower. The humidtiy from the bathroom moistens his curls, frizzing them into oblivion, “in what fucking universe does a paper lying over a goddamn rock win?”

Placing the razor against the white pillowy peaks of the shaving cream you slide it up your leg, careful to not cut your knee. “Don’t be a sore loser because you chose rock three times in a row.

“It’s the most common way to win!” He whines, slamming the toilet seat down and plopping himself on top of it. “Are you almost done? I feel like I’ve been freezing for 24 hours, I never warmed up lastnight.”

Rinsing the last bit of conditioner from your hair you turn the water off, throwing a hand out from the shower curtain to reach for your robe, wrapping it around you tightly, and opening the shower, you notice that Eddie looks paler than usual.

“Are you getting sick?” You place the back of your hand on his forehead, it’s clammy and abnormally warm. The twinkle he almost always has in his eyes is gone, he looks rundown. “In the nicest way possible, you look like hell.”

“I feel like shit,” Eddie complains.

“Here,” you offer, starting the water for him, “take a hot shower and I’ll go make us some food.”

-

When Eddie gets out of the shower the kitchen smells of sweet thick batter, sprinkled with a hint of cinnamon. The waffle iron you had bought with Nancy before Halloween worked like a dream, it was in better condition than you had thought.

Two plates are sitting on the counter, as Eddie walks into the kitchen, wearing a hoodie and sweats, he comes behind you, moving your hips gently to the side as he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re making.

“Waffles?!” He squeals into your ear, “I didn’t know we even had a waffle press thing,” he says, messing up your still damp hair with a tousle, “wait is that the thing that’s kept in the bathroom under the sink?”

Racking your brain you try to envision what he’s thinking of, “no Eddie that would be Nancy’s hot rollers, for her hair..”

“Well that’s not edible,” he says walking to the fridge and pulling out his jug of milk.

Hollering over your shoulder and opening the waffle iron to carefully remove the perfect round breakfast delicacy from the iron with a fork, you announce, “that’s why they’re in the bathroom, under the sink. I bought the waffle iron when Nancy and I went shopping a few weeks ago, how are you feeling?”

Taking a big gulp of milk Eddie mutters, “better, much better, I’m just really tired.”

Plating the waffles and getting the syrup from the cabinet you set the plates down at the table, bringing over two glasses and two sets of silverware, “can you grab the orange juice, and the butter?”

Bringing the requested items to the table, Eddie sets them down, next to the napkin holder. Grabbing a knife hastily and spreading the pale yellow butter around the crispy pockets of the waffle, melting into delicious puddles of savory goodness, awaiting the courtship to be reunited with the sticky sweet syrup to combine into heavenly wedded bliss.

Cutting his waffle and diving in, the kitchen is surrounded by sound of Eddie’s satisfied moans, “fuck,” he cries with a mouthful of food, shoveling more in, “this is so fucking good, you’re a saint— no no! Wait, an angel.”

The waffles were good, the perfect amount of crispy and soft. Eddie finished both of his waffles in record time.

“So where did you get this thing?” he asked curiously, pointing to the waffle iron on the counter.

“With Nancy—oh! I completely forgot!” you say excitedly, “I got a record too, it’s by the rest of them near your record player, I didn’t want to use it and break it.”

Eddie pads over to the record player and thumbs through the stack on the shelf.

He had already been staring at the record for over a minute before you spoke again, saying his name asking if he wanted another waffle.

“Damn,” he interrupts you sniffing loudly, “I haven’t heard this since…”

He carefully pulls the sleeve from the record and slots it in place, putting the needle in place. The soft twang of Bobbie Gentry’s guitar plays as she plucks the strings, a few beats in and her sultry, smoky voice begins singing, retelling the story of the day she found out the fate of Billie Joe.

Eddie sits cross legged on the floor next to the record player, staring in awe. His socked feet tucked under his thighs. Elbows digging into his legs.

His mind drifts to a small house on the outskirts of Hawkins, the paint peeling and chipping away, a dog named Ruby running alongside him as he pedals his bike up the dirt lane.

She was standing in the kitchen, her soft brown curls waving behind her as she ashed a cigarette and cut his ham sandwich into squares, taking the crust off. She hummed along to the waning wonky tunes of the radio as Bobbie Gentry sang about Billie Joe. Her smile fading in his memory.

He never allowed himself to think of her. Despite what Uncle Wayne and the therapist at the stuffy office with the seafoam green painted walls, the cheerful posters with kids and their perfect families staring at him as he glared at the floor, toe of his converse trying to dig a hole through the tile. It only brought him sadness. It was something he couldn’t talk about, not to anyone. The panic attacks in the night when he dreamt of the day she was taken from him, right in front of his big doe eyes, would send Wayne into a frenzy. Helping Eddie breath, making the small child ground himself with his surroundings. So he moved on, throwing himself into music, and his friends. Anything to keep his mind from thinking of that day. But here in your living room, twenty years later, it was all he could think of.

Her perfume, hints of jasmine and lilac a tinge of cigarette smoke underneath. The way her glasses were perched on her head as she read through the paper. Her light brown eyes, like caramel apples you’d see at the fair. Her long fingers always thumping along to whatever song she heard. The gift of a piano player. The way she would dance with him in the living room, barefoot and giggly as she swung him around and around. Those were the good memories, the ones before she was ripped away from him.

The song finishes and Eddie leans up onto his knees, placing the needle to replay it again, this time the warm tears are flowing freely, running down his cheeks. He no longer cared if you saw him cry like a baby.

You’re standing at the edge of the kitchen watching him. You figured his mom was dead by the way he never mentioned her. Chrissy once asked him about his parents after he mentioned his Uncle Wayne, and he blew it off, like he blew off lots of things, “shit, think she joined the circus, married the world’s strongest man.” You wonder if the fib was easier for him to tell himself. Rather have her still around, happy and breathing than what she actually was. You’ve only seen him like this one other time and that was after you saw Chad at the grocery store.

Steve had told you how concerned he was when he came in to talk with you. How scared he was, how bad he felt that he wasn’t around to protect you when you needed it. And just like he did for you, you’d do for him.

Walking gently towards him you stand behind him, not sure if lightly touching his shoulder would cross a boundary but wanting to reassure him, you do it anyway. The pads of your fingers daintily skim his shoulders, running soft figure eight patterns. His face is hidden by his curtain of hair but you can hear him sniffling softly. A soft squeeze of his shoulder and he wraps an arm around your bare calf, holding onto dear life as you pull him into you. His death grip on your leg almost has you falling over. You find yourself threading your fingers through his wet hair. Rubbing along his scalp, his shoulders jump and shake with a deep sigh as the song finishes again. Eddie peels himself from you and turns the record player off. Standing and looking at the ground. Toeing the carpet with his sock.

“I have…,” he says, clearing his throat, trying like hell to gain composure, “I haven’t heard that song in years… it was her favorite.”

Reaching for his hand your fingers find their way into the spaces between his. Squeezing and rubbing his pointer figure with the pad of your thumb. “Eddie,” you whisper to him, your small soft voice reaching out to him beckoning him.

His eyes turn to you, tear filled and red, his body shaking with a light sob. Instincts kick in and you don’t realize what’s happening before it does, you drag him down the hallway, into your room. The same room where he comforted you in the warmth of his arms, you sit down on your bed, your back to the headboard and bring him down with you, his head in your lap. his arms wrapped tight around your bare thighs. Brushing his hair away from his face with your fingers, his body is racked with sobs, the tops of your thighs wet with his tears. You rub his back, comforting him and whispering to him that you’re sorry, that it’s okay, that you’re here for him.

The dishes would have to wait.

When you wake, you’re snuggled down into the confinements of your bed. Blankets covering both you and Eddie, his arms wrapped tightly around your middle like a child with a balloon at the fair, afraid to let go. His body is curved with yours, his light snores tickling your hair. Not waking him, you gently fall back asleep, the thought that he was right, skids across your mind.

Eddie was the first guy to sleep in your bed— and your heart leaped when you selfishly hoped he never wanted to leave it.

A/N: SEE YOU IN VOL: VIII HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED

[this message is for read more —, you big nasty, smelling bitch. Why you took me off the mf schedule with your trifflin’ dirty ass. Big bitch Oompa Loompa body ass bitch, I’m comin up there and I’m gonna beat the fuck …… (it’s a reference from TikTok) BUT TRY ME READMORE TRY ME]

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction

[alessabriel]

polaroid love.

Summary: When she called his name it made his heart race.

Cw. flulff, soft.

He had never been a fan of photos, eventually and his arrival in Gotham under the care of his father had learned to hate them by the detestable press that seemed not to have much more chaos to cover. He hated the photos, he didn't like them and when he appeared in them he looked so tense that his family learned the hard ones that he didn't like them.

That was until you came into his life, a flash in purple tones from cold to warm that hit him squarely in the face blinding him.

You were a brilliant person without trying and you lit up every damn room with your mere presence without counting on the trail of magic that danced around you as if it protected you, with your sweet and melodious voice you broke the silence around him and he loved it in a thousand possible ways and he felt lucky when you said his name,  with so much love and adoration that you caused his heartbeat to go completely crazy, as if the organ wanted to leave his chest and settle on your bare hands. It was a bloody, romantic metaphor you had said once, that time when you created a pendant out of thin air to wear around your neck and never take it off.

And so, with your arrival he began to take a liking to photos of any kind from the casual ones in which he caught you off guard leaving your pristine beauty exposed, the formal ones in which you wore the gala uniform of your private school (specialized in magic and even more private than his) or dresses to match their costumes when they could not escape the galas,  those where he could catch you sleeping peacefully on his chest or shoulder, when they came out in pajamas in front of the bathroom mirror with their faces still sleepy but he could not help but smile and those that made a special place in his memory; in which you went out with Titus on your lap, his great companion saw you with dreamy eyes as if you were some kind of goddess in his eyes (he believed the same) and those where Alfred his little sloe companion became putty on your body snuggling between your arms or on your chest. Those photos were polaroid and he kept them in his purse suspiciously, another pair well hidden in his private locker in the cave. He also began to like going out with you in selfies either in which he partially saw their faces, with silly filters (because in what world did you, the most divine being on this earth need a filter? I didn't understand, but it made you laugh and I was happy) or in which you always sealed your smooth lips on his cheek with your eyes always closed and he with a serious face or an attempt at it.

It was easy to start loving the photos where you went out because you were her beloved, the sun that her moon needed, the breath of fresh air on a hot day, the drizzle in a desert and the complement she did not know she needed in her life. The part of an equation sought, the longed-for inspiration and its eternal muse. Loving you had been so difficult at first, but you made your way through his heart like a warrior, you crossed his barriers and you took him out to live his life without the interference of others, you taught him many things; Learning that being wrong was okay, that it was part of being human his feelings and that it was not wrong to feel it, that he deserved love, tenderness and care.

You deserve to be yourself and be loved with the intensity of a thousand suns, and if you allow me I want to be the one who loves you Damian.

Those words still comfort him in those days when everything lacerated him, and his mind reproduced them until he slept, because he would never tire of remembering them.

Damian had read a lot as a child because it was the only way to approach a normality shown in books, one that he longed for, but did not know, and in those days that his psyche still kept hidden he remembered reading romantic books where the protagonists loved each other with everything and mistakes, with darkness, with defects and with hands full of blood.  even with his back loaded with thousands of ghosts from the past. Books where love never won, but never stopped fighting for a single opportunity.

They were certainly tragic books, yes, but they showed how much the characters loved each other.

And he knew that he wanted to be by your side years ago, when the uneasiness of not being loved as he wished for his parents was still fresh in his heart (father minimized him to just a tantrum child and his mother knew she would throw him under a train if he gained power with it), when with the damn sword of Deathstroke lodged in his chest and feeling himself lower by his own weight on the edge,  when I look at you he has the means of falling and unconsciousness; boiling in such a horrendous wake of magic that it suddenly advanced until it flooded the whole place and swallowed the mercenary whole. He never knew how he got to the ground or how you pulled out the sword, but he does remember your warmly cold hands on the hole left by the sword and the boiling sensation of tears falling on his skin like a strange sensation running through him whole. You whispered in another language that I did not identify, but distinguished supplications.

Don't take my best friend, please.

No one could know how you saved his life when his death was assured by the severity of his injuries, but no one got answers. You always deflected the subject by being annoying, talking like a chatter about your cartoons that you loved to watch until you got fed up with anyone who asked you, except him, and I always got the same answer –someday I could tell you Dami, but not today, please– and I respect that, even when I was 11 years old and longed to know.

Now today everything was complex, but at the same time easy, he learned a lot by your side. I felt like you always added to him, never subtracted from him. That feeling made him tremble from head to toe despite the assassin training that he took all his life, you simply made that old-fashioned feeling completely envelop his heart by removing any filter from his system, he could not retain the love he felt, nor the absolute and unconscious adoration he professed when he kept his gaze fixed on your figure taking care of your micro expressions and gestures,  In search of some discomfort or discomfort to help you, because every move he learned over years and never realized until he knew he was completely and madly in love with you.

He knew about your overflowing powers, how magic absolutely adored you, and how you understood it even more than your mother or grandfather. You were a being full of magic, in every aspect.

I knew that loud noises stunned you in an uncomfortable way, you didn't enjoy arguments, and you usually tended to be silent out of nowhere because they got lost, but you came back to yourself to continue any conversation.

He knew that you completely detested paperback books with very loaded or tasteless designs, he could reproduce in his memory your complaints about new books, the same complaints that he would listen carefully to protect the information.

Since they were friends I knew that you really disliked completely that your mother intervened in your training or missions, because from the beginning she abandoned you with Constantine (who surprisingly was a good father, somewhat absent but good) and therefore you had a tense relationship with her.

He always had in mind that you were cold and carried a jacket (his and even with traces of his cologne because he knew you loved it) in the back of his car.

Really everything he learned from you was almost by inertia, you were always attentive to him in many aspects which he loved, because nobody had taken the trouble to know all his preferences; From food to clothes, how he liked certain products over others, how he was constantly bored and carried a small book of artwork in your bag or car for him, how he sometimes worried because he could not let his guard down until your magic in the form of soft mist settled on the inside of his arm giving him comfort.

They were a litany of things they learned from each other.

Damian knew that with you in his life he opened up to new things, that having your hand holding his tightly there would be nothing he feared.

A semi-empty fair was one of the last places their families would look for them, both did not like those types of places at all. The perfect choice.

"Hurry up Mian!" you said with emotion, pulling the Wayne boy out of his dazed state.

With a soft snort without ulterior motives the tallest followed your light trot towards a photo booth crudely decorated with fair colors, but it had a certain gloomy charm for the old and once in front of it was nothing to take out your wallet you were faster paying and smiling shamelessly for it.

"I invited you to this date pretty boy, so I pay" you commented triumphantly before removing the curtain to give him access first "You First"

Damian could only smile at your tender antics and entered first without wasting time pulling you inside, there was a padded seat where he sat and pulled you into his lap, they could both see the options and after a little talk they opted for a simple polaroid that would give them two. He kept his gaze on the countdown and without a word took you by the cheeks with utmost care and kissed you, savoring the light, velvety texture of your lipstick against his own lips in every uncalculated move, and viciously swallowed your needy little gasp.

"Mian" you sighed dreamily when the kiss ended, your hands trembled on the fabric of his shirt and you looked with a smile as your boyfriend's lips looked reddish.

"Beloved" replied softly the tallest without avoiding kissing your sweet smile.

Between laughter and stolen kisses they left the photo booth, with a polaroid in hands.

Damian considered that you not only took a copy of the polaroid in your hands but his heart in your hands.

#dc x fem reader #damian al ghul x reader fem #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader fem #dc x reader fem

[dreamchasernina]

do you lile the comics or do you think the characters or are they OOC

Aang in the promise reminded me of zuko in season 1.

Hotheaded, even kinda nationalistic with no social awareness. How comes he completely forgets katara

Oooh I love that question.

First of all, starting with the Promise. Yeah, they are mostly out of character in that comic. Aang agreeing to kill Zuko after we spent the whole finale establishing he refuses to kill? Like, that’s baffling. Plus, Zuko acting like a child, going to his father for advice and marching his army to Yu Dao, instead of sitting down with Aang and talking it out? We spent 3 seasons watching Zuko grow into a mature young man and he just goes back to his old ways in the first comic? That wasn’t great. Although I did like the overall conflict of the series, the characters were not done right.

But, I wouldn’t call Aang a nationalist. You have to remember, Aang lost his entire culture and he’s the only one who’s left to preserve it and to pass it on. Seeing people blatantly disrespecting his culture and using it as a costume made him see things differently. He was just afraid that his way of life would be lost if he let the nations clash. Yes, his way of thinking was wrong but it was also justified in the context of the comic. Of course he came to a realization that he cannot gatekeep his culture and people from different nations should be able to live together. I think it was a good character growth for him. Which is a lot more than I can say for Zuko, at least.

Now, I’m not sure I understand what you mean by saying he forgot Katara? Are you referring to the first comic? Cause they were together the whole time and I feel like her opinion and counsel were what mattered the most to him. In terms of Kataang, I think they were written really well in the comics. They have cute little romantic moments and also moments where they realize they’re pretty much the ones responsible for the fate of the world and really sit down and think things through and reach a decision together. I love that.

I could say Aang kinda forgot about Katara in the Rift for a while there, but it’s kinda minor. Other than that, in every other comic, they’re always together and written well so I like Kataang in the comics a lot.

Overall, the comics are not for everyone but I do enjoy them, I think they’re cute additions for the universe if you don’t think too hard about them. They’re pretty entertaining, for the most part.

My favorite one is definitely Imbalance, it just balances the characters perfectly, everyone gets a moment to shine and the main conflict is actually really ineteresting and sets up the main conflict in Korra really well.

My ranking of the comics if you’re interested

1. Imbalance - like I said the main conflict is awesome and the characters feel like themselves, Toph is a freaking badass in this one.

2. The Rift - I love Toph in this, she really gets to shine and again, Aang’s inner conflict is what makes this comic for me. The way he wants to preserve his people’s memory and culture in middle of all the inevitable progress.

3. The Search - it’s cute. Just the Gaang on an adventure, that’s always fun.

4. The Promise - it has its problems but I like the conflict after the war, I think it’s very nuanced and interesting.

5. Smoke and Shadow - Kinda boring

6. North and south - it was a bit repetitive and the main conflict seemed a little bit silly in my opinion. Katara is also a little out of character.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #avatar #the promise #the search #imbalance #the rift #smoke and shadow #north and south #Aang #Katara #Zuko #Sokka #Kataang #avatar aang

[prince-kallisto]

Rewatching the first Anniversary animation, I realized something very odd about the opening scenes. This video shows off several locations in the school, primarily event locations. But all the locations are places that the we as the player have scene more (e.g Garden, Alchemy lab, courtyard, etc.)

But this opening shot is in a long, luxurious hall with framed photos of various locations in the school, but also seem to have photos from events (e.g Cater in a Beans Fest costume). We can safely assume that the event framed photos are taken from the MC’s ghost camera, but why is there this mysterious hallway lined with these locations? Additionally, the animation is played off as “it was just a dream” from Grim’s perspective, but is it actually?

First off, what REALLY caught by eye is the photograph of the Mirror Chamber…with the Dark Mirror glowing pure white. Now, please correct me if I’m wrong, but we never see the Dark Mirror like this!! Grim specifically walks by the photo too. The Dark Mirror usually looks like this or just shrouded in darkness:

It is never glowing with white light. EXCEPT…

In the Opening prologue movie where the mirror only glows a bright white with CROWLEY, who is implied to transform into a bird and escape through the mirror. So why would there be a framed photo of this exact moment that (I think) we never see in the canon main game? Even if it did actually show up in the main game, why frame such an obscure and odd moment? The Dark Mirror isn’t supposed to look like that.

Edit: Actually, I just realized the red gems on the mirror in the hallway. It’s not the Dark Mirror- it’s the MAGIC mirror from Snow White. I’ve actually been planning on a Magic Mirror theory,, but this is even weirder!!! Because people talk about the Magic Mirror as if it was just from a legend or nonexistent. So this frame of the mirror is even more purposeful- Crowley has a form of the magic mirror existing from the photograph.

Let’s back up a little haha. So far, what I’m thinking is that this Hallway is one of the underground passages that Ortho mentioned. No specific reason for this other than the fact that we have never seen this hallway and it seems very personal- thus being hidden by Crowley. Ortho would also be one of the few- if not only- beings on this campus besides Crowley to have knowledge of these secret doors and passages.

This is relevant that this hallway is an underground passage because of what happened in the prologue. We get a glimpse of a monster, most likely Grim, inside a destroyed mirror chamber. Notice how the Dark Mirror is just straight up gone. Not shattered, but missing. Although the school is very likely decimated above ground, any underground structures would likely be secure for now. BUT there’s a dent in this theory- more on that later.

The fact the ghost camera is involved feels important. There’s a lot we don’t know about this 3 second scene (hallway, glowing mirror, weird frames), but the Memories must have some importance in canon. In several fan translations I’ve read, the Memories are also referred to as “fragments,” which is…mildly suspicious (like…glass fragments????). Because what if with enough fragments, a whole picture could be made complete?

ANYWAY, the fact that (likely) Crowley has all these Memories framed, enlarged big enough for a person to fit through, is very suspicious. Because this is what happens to Grim: Bean Fest Cater moves in the photo, which is exactly what Memories are said to do, snaps a photo of Grim, who is suddenly transported to the exact time and place Cater was in when the photo was taken. Deuce was right about the “photographing parts of your soul” being sketchy haha.

This could obviously just be a thing for the animation, just some creative liberty. But why design this hallway with all these photos? So far, what I’m thinking is that Grim was in a place he was NOT supposed to be in. Who knows how he got in, but he seems almost mischievous. But remember, Grim wakes up from a DREAM at the end of this animation. Book 7 has all of us being put into a dream, and magically-induced dreams seem to have great power. Grim seemed to even look aware of his surroundings and was significantly frightened. This is the same way in Book 7, where Grim is immediately aware that something is wrong.

However, if Grim woke up from a dream, how did the photographs of the Bean Fest exist in the first place?

This gets a little trippy, so hang in there haha. Theories have always floated around with the side events in TWST being part of Malleus’ dream world, or at least being set in an alternate universe. I also vibe with this theory, because it could explain a lot of the happy endings and the contrived circumstances of getting random characters (some who have no relationship in canon) all together. Some events specifically happen in a certain season (e.g Halloween) without the characters aging up a year, so it’s safe to say that some events are not in the main story canon.

Again, if Grim was briefly transported into the alternate Event universe, and work up from a “dream,” it implies that the hallway was not part of the dream. Unless…? This is where the dent in my underground passage theory comes in, but I think I’ve found a theory in even more satisfied with.

My crack theory for this one is that this mysterious hallway is a location only accessible in a dream- but specifically CROWLEY’s dreams. Think about it- if Grim wakes up from a dream after being in a location we’ve never seen in canon, this must be a special place. And I think this theory is possible because of what we know of Mickey Mouse’s room

Mickey himself says that he can only access this weird room in his DREAMS. Who knows if this room even exists in his reality, but he travels to this room in his dreams and is able to communicate with another WORLD, Aka the TWST world. In the prologue, Grim is also the one who seems to open the coffin that can only be opened with a special key. So it makes sense if Grim was able to break the rules again and manage to slip himself into this hallway by accident.

And remember that glowing white mirror I mentioned? In the Opening movie (highly recommend rewatching it! 👀), every time Crowley goes into the mirror, he comes back into the school. The first time he goes into the mirror, there’s a raven flying by the school building itself. The second time, the raven flies into the mirror, and the camera zooms out, making that shot look like it came from inside a coffin…that’s inside the school mirror chamber. Again, hard to explain haha, rewatch the opening to see what I’m talking about. But there’s this weird inception thing going on with the opening, and always with Crowley and the glowing white mirror.

I think Crowley has a photo of that mirror specifically because it seems to be a “hub” for him to travel back into- but I can’t say if it’s a physical location, universe travel, or even time travel. Whatever this mirror is, it is very important for Crowley to travel. I mean, Crowley himself mentions alternate worlds and universes in the prologue! And with Mickey being a thing, there is the confirmation of other worlds.

And how would the photos of Beanfest exist in this dream world? Well, the ghost camera creates Memories and fragments, right? Quite literally capturing a part of a person’s soul. Crack theory part two: If the events are a part of an alternate reality, Crowley is able to put these fragments together in his dreams. So the hallway is not only just accessible in a dream, but it’s also a place connecting the alternate realities together- and Crowley would have knowledge of this other, peaceful Event reality where no Overblots happen. And since this hallway is inherently very trippy, Grim experienced all the fragments of these events in his dreams- or perhaps he was even briefly transported to the event reality.

I feel a little validated with my crack theories because in a 2020 Q&A interview, Yana Toboso said “so I am wondering if parallel and “if” worlds are going to start appearing.”

I’m also going to involve the TWST manga in this, because the Yuu’s change every Overblot. And notice how the mysterious hallway has photos of every dorm. Whether time loop or alternate universe shenanigans are involved, I think Crowley is able to travel between these events by going through a photo with a specific dorm, with the photo being taken at a specific point in time. E.g the Heartslabyul photo would go to the time before the Overblot, or even go to the world of a certain Yuu from the manga. Because even though each Yuu in the manga goes through all the Overblots, it’s one specific Yuu that has a special connection with a respective Overblot. Take the Octavinelle Yuu, Yuuta. He seems to be a perfect foil to Azul, especially regarding what Azul is most insecure about. So even though the Yuus fight the other Overblots, they are tied to a specific Overblot and point of time because of their “soul bond” with the Overblotter. Which is what the Ghost Camera is based off of: the soul bond between the photographer and the people they’re photographing. And if the bond becomes strong enough, who’s to say that Crowley can’t use these Memories to travel through time or worlds?

Tbh, I really don’t know where I’m going with this ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ This is all just so weird, and this few-minute animation ties in A LOT of things that we have little information about (the workings of the ghost camera, a glowing mirror, underground passages, water as transportation). Basically this crack theory boils down to “Crowley sus,” as per usual lmao.

This is also why I’ve never made my own iterations of the dream world/time loop theory, because I go off the rails if I have to think too much hahaha. If y’all have some ideas or things to add, I’d greatly appreciate it! I’m no good explaining stuff like this, even I’m not sure what I’m talking about haha \(//∇//)\

#sometimes I doubt my own neurodivergency #but then I make long theories like this based on literally 2 frames of animations #it really just be like that #twst #twst theory #twst grim #twst dire Crowley #twst ghost camera #KallistoPost #long post

[tiptapricot]

Moon Knight City of the Dead Issue 1… why…?

So. New MK side run has begun, the hyped up full on debut of Layla/new Scarlet Scarab in the comics, with a premise that most writers would twist into an epic and breathtaking journey.

We don’t get that here.

And I have a lot of thoughts on why and how I feel so frustrated with what we got. There’s pieces of something awesome, potential to go to some really fascinating places, and yet it is held back in almost every aspect, creating something messy and clunky that makes me mad to read.

(This is long btw)

First off though, some things I did enjoy!

I really love the art and coloring of this issue. The anatomy and movement and shadows, the stylization of character’s faces and costumes, the sprawling city with its deep reds and blues that feel saturated and weighty. It’s great. Besides a few moments that it comes out of left field with some bad stuff (Layla’s whole face at the end or the MK mask w teeth during the memory slideshow like whaTtt is that), it’s super solid and made for a very enjoyable looking comic.

It was also really fun to see Badr for a little. I think it would’ve been cool to get more, and the pacing of things as I’ll get to later sapped his importance in the story for me some, making him feel more like a prop or a plot device to get it going, but overall it was lovely to see him again. And it was cool to see him being a doctor as well, as we haven’t seen that as recently in MacKay! Always a joy my dear sir please come back soon.

The story in concept. Going to the underworld, detaching a headmate supernaturally to journey to a different plane of reality to save one life, and meeting a dead ally along the way is fascinating stuff, an idea that inspires me to want to explore it myself.

Because (and now it’s time to get into the stuff I didn’t like) the writing doesn’t do this idea justice at all.

This is not the worst MK comic ever rn, not their worst writing. It’s not as violently ableist or antisemitic as things like Bemis or making a joke out of MK like some others, but it’s just stupid, and what it glosses over or gets wrong is weird and uncomfortable and harmful in its own right.

To start this isn’t my Marc. His guilt is not one of punishment for penance, of believing he’s sinned and needs to be washed clean by pain. He is a man stuck in bad coping mechanisms and trying to pretend he’s not. He’s a man who hates himself and uses violence as what I would describe as a form of self harm. But it is not with the goal of erasing his past.

Yes, he runs from the person of Marc Spector, he runs from the idea and the responsibility, but Marc doesn’t try to forget. He holds onto things with a vice grip and never lets himself drop it. He believes in his own mythos and is grappling with his complicated and traumatized history to remember he can love and care and trust people again, that the work of making his life better is not solely on his shoulders. That’s what MacKay’s been dealing with.

MacKay Marc is guilty and self flagellating but in a way he tries not to think about, that he brushes over. He puts on an air of confident collectedness and has more hate for Marc as a concept then specifically his actions, and he’s still able to move forward and find a type of momentum and bravado in the MK suit.

Or in simpler terms: yes Marc has guilt. He does not have this kind of guilt.

The first few pages read so strangely, just this over dramatic spiel that feels more like daredevil than moon knight, like a rehashed dramatic intro to a moody sad 90s comic. And not in a good way. It’s not deep it’s just annoying and tedious and the prose is clunky and again, extremely off in its vibes and message. I think it could’ve been alright, if some of the talk of his guilt had been shifted and the narration hadn’t continued constantly throughout the rest of the issue (which I’ll get to later), but as is in its full context it’s just… weird.

In addition to the weird guilt vibes, there’s further issues with the Khonshu religiosity in this.

Khonshu isn’t something Marc worships, he’s something he uses for his own means. He’ll call on him or talk about being the priest of the mission, but that’s because Khonshu doesn’t have oversight, he’s a tool and form of direction and theming, and at the story’s core Marc is the priest for his mission, not this god’s.

At points in this issue he genuinely sounds dedicated though, and it shifts the flavor of earlier pieces more in line with his usual monologuing to seeming more like strange spiritual devotion. Especially calling Khonshu the greatest of great gods, or saying that him being in the underworld is Khonshu’s mission. It changes his actions from that of Marc to that of a real Khonshu follower and its…. Just weird. It’s all just weird and very ooc.

On top of that, there’s no mention or interrogation or even presence of discussing Judaism alongside all of this. I’m not Jewish myself but have had multiple convos around the topic w those who are n who have made their own posts discussing it and can add on more nuance n info to this should they like (bc more thoughts for discussion are always awesome), but just on a surface level it’s strange. It’s strange to have a plot revolving around going to another belief system’s afterlife and not at all bringing up how it clashes or relates to Jewish beliefs. Yes Marc isn’t really actively practicing anymore but I’d hazard Jake probably is, and Marc has still talked about his connection to his faith and how it’s impacted his time as moon knight and serving Khonshu.

The text treats the Egyptian pantheon belief system as the True and Accepted default here, with Marc not even discussing anything about going to an afterlife he doesn’t belong in (and shouldn’t even have) as a Jewish man, or even thinking about how Badr discussing Ka conflicts with Jewish beliefs on the soul and how Neshamah differ.

And yes, Marc works regularly with the very real Egyptian pantheon and mystical systems but it’s in a different way, and under a different context and understanding by readers of his acceptance of it.

A whole other layer of depth, conflict, and exploration could’ve been added by really digging into the theological implications of this plot, of a Jewish soul in the Egyptian afterlife, and yet it’s not brought up at all, not referenced or mentioned and it makes it all feel weirdly out of place, or like stuff is being glossed over.

That, on top of Jake and Steven (not to mention the entire rest of the main mission cast) being completely absent in mention, consultation, presence, or anything just feeds into this strange sense of Pepose wanting Marc to be the idea he has of him in his head, this guilty, sad, and violent merc serving a moon god with not a ton else. And yes again those are all aspects of Marc, but there is nuance to each of those aspects and treating him as a singlet with no thoughts on the conflicts in faith of his present is… just weird.

I don’t know if he’ll be treated as a singlet the whole run, but the fact that the body’s soul being sent into the afterlife has not already brought in any system conflict at all is an issue. Is it their collective soul? Is it just Marc’s? How does this comic understand alter soul distinction? Has it thought about it at all? I mean the answer is no but the thing is it should’ve.

That’s where so many of my issues with this come from though: choices just being… not good. Not thought out or in line with the characters and world. The writing is off and out of place and gOD THE CONSTANT NARRATION IS GRATING!!

I don’t know why it was chosen for Marc to novel write his thoughts and observations the whole issue but it’s bad. It goes past introducing plots or observations that can’t be shown in text to either:

1. Filling space that doesn’t need to be filled

2. Restating what has just been said or shown in a panel (“we have the power of the four horsemen” “wow they just got the power of the four horsemen”)

3. At worst, telling us stuff that was not indicated at all by anything else (“oh I know something is wrong here even though I have not been given enough reason to pique that suspicion” “oh I reunite with Layla and hold her and take her in but haha you don’t see that ig”)

It’s annoying and makes reading things difficult because he’s blabbering on the whole time in places he DOESNT NEED TO!! And it makes the action and emotional movement feel awkward and forced. I don’t need to know every second of Marc’s thoughts Pepose I can parse out things with my eyes I promise you that. Also can he stop talking about penance for TWO SECONDS!!!

The worst part is narration works when done well! When it highlights things that can’t be shown in art or gives some bits of exploration into feelings or exposition, but we don’t need it in every panel. It actually confused some parts of where to look for me by telling me what was about to happen before it did. Stop being like “I thought it was over but—“ JUST LET US SEE ITS NOT OVER!!

Another moment (similar ish to the start) where the narration would’ve worked for me (if it was not surrounded by just more constant narrating monologue) is when Marc first arrives in the Duat. The prose is pretty, it’s vibrant, it describes things the audience wouldn’t be able to pick up from static pictures and helps to set the scene. The only issue is that it doesn’t stand on its own, it’s not an interjection of observations and thoughts, it’s another entry in the never ending cycle of Marc just talking. And it loses some of its luster because of that.

There’s also just a handful of pieces of either dialogue or thoughts that (in the context of Steven and Jake being absent at the moment despite not being absent at the point in time this should be taking place) make me feel very uncomfortable with Pepose’s vibes on their mental health. Some lines that rubbed me the wrong way in context include “The rage fills within me—and suddenly I have a plan. That said, it would help if my plan wasn’t dangerously insane.” “You know me Badr, mental discipline is my middle name.” And a few similar ones I don’t want to reread again for.

They’re just unnecessary man. We don’t need vaguely or directly ableist vibes in words with MK anymore. It works if it feels like it’s coming from Marc’s internalized ableism IE when he was talking about being called crazy during the discussion with Steven and Jake and Jake called him out for it, but when it’s obvious it’s just how the author sees things it sucks!

Stop using insane, stop using crazy, stop being like “oh I’m so good at keeping myself in check,” WE DONT NEED IT!! ALSO THEY R AT A GENERAL POINT OF SYSTEM COMMUNICATION N HARMONY RN!!

Which also just… man this feels like it’s trying to introduce MK instead of continuing an already established and well under way arc. Yea, this isn’t MacKay writing it, but it’s still in the continuity and set up for his run and like… sorry not sorry but I think you should take that context into account if you’re going to be working within it???

Instead the story props itself up by trying to introduce everything at once and Marc feels like he’s starting from the bottom of development.

And speaking of introducing everything at once! Oh boy the pacing!

No one besides Badr is consulted before Marc goes into the Duat, Badr just. Sends him there. There’s no real build up for why there’s a need go that far, for what the threat is or why Marc would go to these lengths so suddenly. Like yeah I know he wants to save a kid who’s a traveler of the night, but like… Others have died or almost died on his watch and he’s never gone to this point before, even though it seems like it’s always something they’ve had as an option. Like… ok ig if Soldier hadn’t been vamped he would just be dead lmao (though also hey! Why and how do souls end up in this afterlife? Do they have to believe in the gods? Do they have to be in some way tied to the pantheon? Is it just where souls go if they’re near moon knight lmaO? If you want to have your afterlife plot you have to do the worldbuilding for it)

And while yes, a lot of this is because This Plot Wasnt Thought Up During Earlier Parts Of Mackay, it also isn’t introduced in a way that feels natural or makes sense.

Events just Happen. Mysteries or drives are just Said without a good basis for why they’re there. Again, this cult was talked about as just kinda a sadistic gang but then they’re a big deal? And oh the kid is dying and oh he’s worth going to the afterlife for and OH WERE JUST HERE NOW and “oh there’s a conspiracy I’ve decided with no real evidence” and HEY FOUND THE GUY and—Suddenly a whole lot of what is happening. God heart full on cult horsemen of the apocalypse memory flashback and BOMBS NOW APPARENTLY and LAYLA and MK BIG PAST BADDIES BOSS FIGHT INCOMING!!

Like ohhhh my god stuff is so rushed and happens so inorganically and with no time to really understand what’s happening. It’s a type of story where my suspension of disbelief isn’t there and it fully just feels like seeing the writer trying to get to the end goal of what they want to write about (moon knight fighting old villains) as quickly as possible. And it SUCKS! Like this genuinely should’ve been more than one issue, there should’ve been at least sOme more build up to gEtting to the city of the dead in the first place, no matter additionally uncovering a plot of some sort happening and Layla turning up.

It’s just…. It’s so rushed and strange and forced and it didn’t have to be and IT MAKES ME MAD IT IS and it’s just not enjoyable to read. It all feels so shallow and stilted and weird, all while having this underlying idea with so much weight, some generally gorgeous art, some moments that could’ve been really awesome, and last but not least…. Literally a good reference to doing a Duat plot well.

This whole mini run is for MCU synergy, bringing Layla in, exploring the Duat and it’s lore, and again yes, the run isn’t done, but it just…. Compared to the MCU plot for the Duat this feels so…. GraaggHhggh. Especially when it comes to system interaction and exploring different painful memories that effect headmates in different ways.

It’s just. It was an extremely frustrating read from both a technical writing standpoint and a character exploration standpoint, and it worries me and doesn’t excite me at all for future issues. Like we’ll sEe but goddamn this is not a good start no matter how it plays out and it doesn’t give me confidence if it turns out I have to read several more issues of this kind of stuff.

Petty nitpicks speed run because there wasn’t enough enjoyable padding for them to not stand out!

I don’t know if Pepose could’ve specified or not but Marc’s not drinking vodka in the opening scene, it looks more like whiskey or something similar by the bottle, again nailing home how strangely off this Marc is from the Marc he’s meant to be with how Mackay has built him up.

Why do they use Duat and City of the Dead like they’re interchangeable titles it’s just the Duat like I get calling it “the city of the dead” since it is that but like. Let that just b the run title they shouldn’t be calling it that like it’s a final name.

They misspell Dr. Alraune’s name lmao

How did the kid get… hurt..? The only point in the opening fight I can think he maybe got hit was with the gunfire but it didn’t seem like that was aimed towards him and there wasn’t any moment of having a detail in the background showing him get injured. And he wasn’t lethally injured at the start so ???

What… is the continuity between the Hydra vs Karnak Cowboys fight we see in MacKay and the flashback here. They were on an empty road there when they crashed? And now they’re in the heart of the city? AlsO bOMBS???

Anyway all I’ll wrap it up with is when the only thing I genuinely smile at is the cameo and namedrop of Apocalypse you know something is wrong with your story lmaO

#moon knight #moon knight comics #moon knight city of the dead #the fruit is talking again #marc spector #mikes mk meta

[blazeofnight]

PotO Italy (Trieste) review - Act 2

We did enter the intermission with high spirits: All I Ask of You did get us interested and on board, and despite some disappointing or confusing choices the first act was overall enjoyable. The solid vocal and acting performances surely didn't hurt, either.

No pictures this time since I'm at work and can't access Instagram, I'll add them later if I remember. You can find the review for Act 1 here.

The same disclaimer applies: I have not seen other replica productions in full, only pictures, but I have seen the West End production in March. I do consider using Broadway/West End/replica productions as the one and true standard to judge non-replicas unfair in general, but I think it's fair to use them as a comparison to try and understand how these changes affect character dynamics and stuff like that, and to help in trying to understand the reasoning behind the choices made.

My visual memory is VERY poor, so if you've seen the show too and notice I remember something wrong please tell me so I can correct it! Also this is a long post, so please consider how much you want to scroll before clicking the read more.

MASQUERADE/WHY SO SILENT

There are a couple of videos of Masquerade floating around, so I believe everyone interested in this specific scene already has seen them. I have to say that the videos and pictures do not capture just how a light, peaceful and joyous moment it is.

After ending Act 1 with ominous red lighting and a lot of sharp shadows, Act 2 opens with a soft diffused light, slightly yellow as to mimic sunlight. In the beginning they turned on the little constellation lights in the ceilings, and it was absolutely beautiful! Then as the song progressed the lighting got a bit stronger and they also used some of the seating are alights, to create this impression of the stage being bigger and almost overflowing towards the audience. For a split second, it did feel as if we too were part of what was going on on stage.

The scene opens as always with Firmin and André covered by cloaks and recognizing each other. André is wearing a regular fancy suit, and Firmin reveals a super poofy and VERY pink dress. I knew about this going in and tried to keep my opinion neutral, I'm happy to report it's not played for laughs beyond the initial reveal (you REALLY do not expect that after seeing André is dressed in a fancy but uncreative way), it really feels as if Firmin thought "Hmmm a fancy dress party, I don't see why I should not wear a nice, pink, huge dress!" and that's it.

The ensemble is dressed in what look like Venetian masks inspired costumes and they get on stage dancing with similarly attired mannequins. The effect is very nice and just the right amount of creepy, the mannequins move very smoothly so at times you really can't tell which figures are actors and which ones are mannequins.

At one point the sea of masks parts and the named characters appear. Madame Giry is dressed in her usual black dress, Meg is dressed like the music box's monkey, and Piangi, Carlotta, Raoul and Christine are dressed in "regular" elegant clothes. I can confirm Christine's dress is white, it looks pale yellow at times due to the lighting being warm for most of the scene. Christine's dress is actually pretty nice from what I could see, especially the lovely, decorated train. I have not checked but it could also be pretty historically accurate in general! Also, it moves beautifully when Christine is picked up by Raoul, I'm not sold on it being white but

There is a moment where Raoul and Christine are alone on the stage, golden confetti start pouring down from the ceiling and it looks extremely pretty, then you see that the ensemble didn't just leave the stage but spilt over into the galleries and near the orchestra pit! Between this and the lighting effects, it does look like the aim of this scene was easing the audience back into the "theatre world" after intermission, if so it does work quite well.

My one complaint is that the second half of Masquerade sounds very slow and I can't figure out why? For the title song getting sped up I do at least have other elements that help guess why, but here I'm completely stumped and it's driving me crazy!

The atmosphere in the scene is extremely relaxed and airy, so the sudden mood change at the Red Death's arrival is very jarring in a good way. I won't lie, I do miss the "traditional" costume, but considering how complex and time-consuming it must be to create and maintain, I do understand why they opted for a simpler solution.

So, the Red Death is just a red, formless cloak holding the huge Don Juan Triumphant manuscript. I actually liked it, it did remind me of the way Death or Destiny/Fate are often represented in illustrations, and it looks like the cloak is made in a velvet-like fabric that made the red even more intense and blood-like. The slow, ominous advance is still very effective and creepy, and when the ensemble falls over the figure only to reveal the cloak is empty it's a nice moment of old-fashioned stage magic.

But wait, Christine is not on stage, so what about the final verse? It turns out Christine was still in the audience, nearby the orchestra pit, made invisible by darkness and our attention being elsewhere. Then she gets suddenly illuminated and we see that the Phantom is actually standing beside her, he says the "your chains are still mine/You will sing for me!" lines, all very effective. I like this staging because it does make you feel that Christine's safety was all just an illusion, the Phantom can get near her whenever he likes and his illusions and tricks make him hard to stop. It makes it more believable that Christine is later willing to put herself at risk to make it all stop despite the huge emotional toll it takes on her, because we are shown just how Raoul could not help her here even if he wanted, despite his promise and willingness to protect her.

The second complaint I have about this scene is that at the very end you can clearly see and hear the Phantom just... running away from Christine and into the wings, which ruins the overall effect a bit. If they find a way to make him disappear more gracefully, then it'd be a perfect way to end the scene.

There's the interlude between Madame Giry and Raoul, and oh boy is Raoul PISSED. Other people have already commented that he doesn't play a super sweet, naive Raoul, but rather a more serious and mature one, and it's nice to see how Bradley portrays him as capable of great tenderness but also of having a spine. He's not politely requesting or pleading with Madame Giry, he's commanding it. This lady is withholding information that could be used to make Christine's life less scary and he won't allow it!

It's not my favourite portrayal of all time, but it fits well with the overall mood and themes and makes for a more tridimensional Raoul which is good in my opinion.

NOTES II/TWISTED EVERY WAY

This scene is set in the same way as Notes I, but since the mood is quite different I found that it being kinda showed in half of the stage wasn't as much of a problem. The stage set is once again angled to create a wall of the managers' office, but this time it gets used as Christine, more and more overwhelmed, leans against it in a dramatic fashion.

A couple of things I noticed: André does a long-ish pause after the first "But why not?" as if he needs a second or two to realize that something's wrong with Christine's refusal, it's a nice touch. Christine starts having her breakdown when everyone is asking her questions, Raoul gets all protective, and when he sings "They can't make you" he's GLARING at the others and physically putting himself between them and Christine (you can hear the quiet menace in his voice perfectly in the audio I took, it's amazing how much emotions Bradley puts in that line). Carlotta has a dark orange dress, which I like less than her green one in Notes I but it would be pretty with a bit more texture, chile Christine is wearing a cute green dress (the colour is a bit of a mix between sage and mint green, similar to the cloak she wears in Wishing).

After the Phantom's letter has been read (Madame GIry keeps silently mouthing the words throughout), Christine says "I can't. I won't do it" in a frankly panicked but determined tone (I don't remember if it's something in the current West End version, but I don't have it on my Original London Cast CD). It's pretty clear during the scene that what happened to the end of Masquerade shook her to the core, and now everything that reminds her of the Phantom or, worse, having to face him directly is a big trigger for her. Amelia has some truly great anguished and conflicted expressions in this scene.

The next part has some nice details: one of the managers (I don't remember who, sorry) bangs his hand on the table during the "We make certain our men are there!" verse, Raoul flips through the Don Juan Triumphant manuscript trying to find something to be used against the Phantom, and there is another perfectly timed longer pause before Raoul, André and Firmin ask Madame Giry to help them during which the three men exchange a meaningful look. Just before Madame Giry's cry of "Madness" turns the attention on her, Carlotta can be seen approaching a very strained Christine and opening her mouth as if to speak to her in a more regular, non-diva way, but then she gets interrupted and nothing comes of it.

Thanks to the way AIAOY has been changed, Raoul's bits in Twisted Every Way sound very sincere and not manipulative as sometimes they risk doing. His change of heart clearly comes 100% from realizing that this is a dangerous plan but Christine clearly can't be happy or even just serene knowing the person she rightfully fears can get to her whenever he wants. Christine's "I know I can't refuse" is truly heartbreaking, there's a sharp, painful intonation that really makes you feel her desperation and how trapped she must feel in this moment.

SITZPROBE

This one plays pretty close to what you can expect, there's not much that can be changed. BUT! Do you remember that Reyer is never seen? In this scene the piano is turned so you don't see him, apart from an admonishing hand when Piangi keeps missing his note. So when the creepy music starts and the piano turns revealing there's no longer anyone behind it, and it's playing on its own... let me tell you, it felt pretty chilling even knowing that the moment was coming!

WISHING YOU WERE SOMEHOW HERE AGAIN

Ok, this and Wandering Child are the scenes in Act 2 that need some work to be more than a vehicle for some nice singing.

Christine is wearing a mint green cloak with sleeves, I don't hate it BUT the sleeves make it bulky and a bit goofy at times. I think a sleeveless cloak works better for this scene since it allows for some more dramatic swishing and looks more elegant, but the one used is serviceable. Oh, no red scarf, but Christine has a red rose she puts...where?

The big issue here is that this scene is painfully empty, there's a projection of silhouettes of tombstones in the background but otherwise, there is NOTHING. Now, listen, I'm not a fan of the giant sarcophagus used in the West End, but having some tasteful fake tombstones, some weeping angels, etc., would go a long way to add visual interest to the scene and make it clearer that Christine is paying homage to her dead father, instead of just leaving a rose on the ground seemingly at random. Have her father's tomb be decorated with, say, an angel playing a musical instrument, maybe a violin, and you're set! and this would also be useful in the next song, so it's a 2x1 deal! Also, it would be nice to see this specific production lean into this scene's gothic aesthetic.

Vocally, as I said elsewhere, Amelia Milo's voice could use a bit more strength but she's not bad at all, and she does put a lot of emotion into the song. She starts mournful, but quickly ramps up the energy and you can really feel that this Christine is so ready to stop clinging to the past and face the future, a new life, that will be different from the one she knew but can make her just as happy if not more.

WANDERING CHILD/BRAVO, MONSIEUR

Ok, we have to talk about the angel wings. I tried to avoid this as long as possible, but the moment has arrived.

Why why why WHY does the Phantom hover while sporting a pair of black angel wings.

I suspect this... thing happens because there are no pyrotechnics in the scene. The use of flames, sparks and the likes in performances is STRICTLY regulated in Italy, especially in indoor venues, so I think these were added to have the Phantom do something "cool" in the scene instead of using the skull cane spray sparks everywhere.

The issue is, they are so random and don't fit the aesthetic of the rest of the musical at all! I would LOVE if there was a suggestion of wings: the Phantom appearing in front of an angel statue, or the wings being a shadow, so you're left wondering if this is Christine's suggestion showing itself to us. As it is now, it is something that throws you out of the show's immersion and that's the second worst crime a musical can commit in my eyes (the first one is being boring).

And another thing is, it is a nice effect, and it works well, I can see it fitting in nicely if they went in a different direction when it comes to themes and overall aesthetic. It's not bad per se, it's just misplaced.

The start of the scene, before the wings appear, isn't bad. Apart from still being empty, the fact that Christine is in a confused emotional state due to the stuff that happened between the end of Masquerade and now and so she falls again under the Phantom's influence is made quite clear, she even falls on her knees similarly to how she did in The Mirror. But then the wings come out, the Phantom starts to hover, Raoul arrives and everything gets confused. I admit I really don't know if something happened and I missed it, or if I was just confused by the scene in general. you could even tell the audience's applause sounded a bit uncertain.

So yeah, that's two other scenes that will need a bit of work to be made good. Luckily Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again just needs a proper background, and that in turn can help a bit with Wandering Child.

DON JUAN TRIUMPHANT/THE POINT OF NO RETURN

There are some interesting changes in this one, so first let's get the small stuff out of the way.

There is only one "Secure!" being shouted, and while there is the usual Phantom's projected voice effect you can tell that it's achieved differently since there are no speakers scattered across the theatre. The second one is a technical limitation so it's understandable and it's still cool, just a bit less impressive, but having 2-3 "Secure!" coming from the main doors is a very cool effect that I absolutely loved in London, it helps so much with the immersion and I wish they'd kept it. Also, the sharpshooter is not in the orchestra pit, but rather in one of the other boxes of the prop stage, which makes sense given the staging.

Sooo, let's get to the Don Juan Triumphant bit and the infamous cloak. First of all, I want to make clear that I've never been 100% on board with the classic disguise. It always looked to me out of place in the play-within-a-play, it is definitely something that the Phantom would use in the "real" world, but clashes with the clothing of the other characters we see in DJT and doesn't really make sense if you assume that Aminta is expecting yes a secret meeting, but not to be deceived. One could argue that the Phantom insisted the costume be this way, but then this would be suspicious and I'd find it strange that no one suspected it would be needed for something. So, in short, I don't dislike the classic costume but I don't really love it either because it's clear it's a costume made for us, the real audience, instead of the fictional audience/play.

I don't love the hat+cloak combo, either, but it makes sense in the way the scene is set. The atmosphere is quite convivial, the ensemble is not only setting the table but some folks (Passarino included) are sitting at it, it looks like they all just finished conspiring and laying the plot. The costumes aren't super elaborate, but I think they worked well in conveying that in the scene there are folks of different social extraction and ways of life.

Passarino's hat and cloak work well to signify that he's a dashing young man, yes, but he's also a working servant: these are believable attire for someone who has to travel or spend time outside, they do tell you something about this character that we see for a handful of seconds, but if we were watching the actual play it would be important to get a nuanced portray of the character!

So yeah, while I don't love this costume? It does look like something made for the play-within-the-play, not something made for PotO, if this makes sense. I do have some issues with the colour, it does work well with Aminta's red and white and it's an ochre yellow that does photograph horribly but isn't too bad in person. And yes, it's very wide and in a stiffer fabric than the classic cloak so it looks clumsier when the Phantom is standing still, but it looks fine when he's moving. Maybe making it in black and a lighter fabric could work, I'd personally love for it to be a dark red similar to Red Death's cloak but then it would be too similar in tone to Aminta's dress (where the red or pink paired with the white is Symbolyc and thus important).

So, yeah, it's not the best, it is a bit weird at first if you're used to the classic black cloak, but it makes so much sense if you consider this is a costume diegetic to the DJT play! Aminta's dress is also simple, a bit of a "generic young country girl", but it has a silhouette that's quite flattering on Amelia and it does its job of representing the young, innocent girl ready to embrace passion etc.

Ok, I think that's enough words spent talking about something that's not the actual music and singing of this piece! The Point of no Return starts sung by Paingi up until "You've decided, decided", then the Phantom takes over and Ramin does his "singing imitating Piangi's accent" thing for a while, before dropping it. I saw people complaining about this, it looks like during the first night the switch was a bit later, but as it is now it works. I think it could be improved by making the change a bit more gradual as it is for the various notes. I did see a lady that was clearly at her first viewing of the show making an "Oh!" surprised face when the voice change happened, so I think it works especially well for first-timers that don't know what will happen, but only that something is bound to happen.

Please don't ask me to tell you stuff about the blocking because I was distracted by everything going on to really take note of it beyond lots of touching, very sensual vibes overall, and a nice bit of leg from Christine at one point. A notable difference is that Christine does realize what's going on only at the end of the song. I do like the timing because it matches with the last "We passed the point of no return" and the music's shift. The song doesn't end abruptly because the Phantom has been unmasked, but quietly and sadly because now Christine knows and the Phantom has to choose what to do. And the Phantom chooses to reveal himself to her (not the unmasking, just taking off the hat).

Raoul jumps onstage, along with the police officer, and Christine moves in order to protect the Phantom. She's clearly terrified but still doesn't want to see him shot dead. What follows is, simply put, one of the saddest All I Ask of You reprises I've ever heard or watched.

I always kinda wondered, what exactly is the Phantom's aim here? Does he just want to share the stage with her? Does he plan to kidnap her again? Does he believe that if only Christine sees the (creepy) opera he's written for her and sings the (creepy) longing song he's written she'll just fall for him as if nothing ever happened? Does he have a plan at all?

I am happy to report that in this staging there is one, simple reply: this Phantom is utterly, completely broken. His music is no longer enough, he needs/wants his music AND Christine to perform him. He wants her to see him, to acknowledge him, yes she does recognize him first in the scene, but he still has the chance to just get out of there. Instead, he reveals himself because he so desperately hopes, against all odds, that singing again together with Cristine the music he composed for her will have changed her mind, made her see how much he cares, made her feel how he feels for her etc. It was honestly a heartbreaking moment to witness, but yeah reading "the Phantom reveals himself at the end of PonR" and seeing it in context is VERY different. 

The impression I got is that the Phantom spent six months spiralling into depression and THIS is the best he could come up with to try and make Christine speak to him again. He's desperate, and he knows it. You can feel it in his voice, you can see it in the way he's calm, almost resigned until the unmasking. For him, it all boils down to Christine's reply, to her accepting him or not. I don't think he's even stopped to consider what to do after she replies because that will be such a defining, world-changing moment. and I think that just for a moment the Phantom allows himself hope, the tiniest bit of it. Christine is clearly scared to death, but she's not running away. She's even protecting him, in a way. And then she unmasks him.

DOWN ONCE MORE/TRACK DOWN THIS MURDERER

The gondola does not disappear in the wings, so there's no quick change and Christine is in her AMinta dress. The Phantom does give her the veil, putting it on her head when he sees she's not doing it herself, and gives her what looks like a wedding dress but Christine is understandably thinking about her current predicament and when the Phantom sees she does not intend to wear it he just tosses it away and gives her the bouquet instead. I do like that there's no implication of Christine being forced to change, and it does keep intact the fact that the Phantom did have a wedding dress, veil and bouquet prepared for her.

When singing "A mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing" Ramin raised a hand to touch the disfigured side in a way that is just heartbreaking. I know I'm using this word a lot, but I feel it's true for this portrayal: a very physical Phantom with a lot of self-loathing, a lot of repressed emotions that get directed inwards with no way or no one to help express them, accompanied by the occasional outburst when they get simply too much to be repressed any longer. Isolated and emotionally stunted is the name of the game here, but in a way that makes you see just how deprived of regular socialization and company he was during his life.

Another interesting thing I noticed is that when Christine sang "It's in your soul that the true distortion lies", in the split second before noticing Raoul's arrival the Phantom raised a hand and was starting to reply to Christine, and I'd really, really like to know how he'd try to get himself out of that one! It was a blink-and-you-'ll-miss-it moment, but I found it interesting that this Phantom's reaction to Christine's accusation was not dismay or anger, but rather trying to talk it out.

Then our boy Raoul appears in all his damp, well-toned and bare-chested glory! Bradley Jaden is quite ripped, I think by now we've all seen the pictures, and let me tell you they do not do him justice. He's also barefoot, and he stumbles on the scene while very convincingly gasping after the swim in the underground lake.

The suspenders are still on because they are clearly used when he gets hanged by the Phantom, since in this scene he is literally hanging, his feet a good 50 cm or so from the ground. My guess is that the "Y" part of the suspenders on the back latches onto some kind of support built into the Phantom's bedframe to take pressure off the neck or something like that. It still looks extremely uncomfortable, and Bradley was clearly tensing a lot of muscles to maintain the position. So yeah, apart from the eye candy, it looks like a challenging thing to do while you're also singing and acting. I still have no explanation for why they did this instead of dampening his shirt, I guess they took a good look at Bradley Jaden's pecs and thought "Oh people will love that!" and asked him if he minded spending the last 10 minutes onstage half naked? I really don't know.

Raoul was convincingly rational (as much as possible) in this scene, he did get angry but it was also clear he was trying to keep his cool and reason if possible because his #1 priority was: to help Christine get out of there. And I think this creates a beautiful dynamic in this scene, where Christine starts angry and scared but then sees that Raoul is trying to keep his promise and jumped into a freezing lake to reach her and be at her side despite the danger. And this in turn gives her the strength to face her fear, which is now not just hypothetical but becoming very real, and find the will she needs to save Raoul in turn. They can save each other because they have built a reciprocal trust and do actively support each other during most of the second act.

Unfortunately, there is the choking. For those who don't know what I'm referring to, when Raoul comes in Christine tries to run to him and the Phantom stops her, and ends up choking her a bit before realizing what he's doing and letting her go. I really didn't like it in this instance. I think there are some actors that can make it work if they play a very aggressive, wounded Phantom that lashes out at the world, but I am having trouble fitting it in this portrayal where his negative emotions are clearly almost all directed inwards and where the Phantom tends to be quite gentle with Christine. Also, not only is he a murderer (twice), kidnapper, damaged property, and maybe kinda drugged Christine, but he's also physically abusive. Cool cool cool. I'd rather like it if they removed it.

When the Phantom realizes what he's doing he immediately lets Christine go (at least) and Christine tries to run to Raoul's side but he gets hanged by the Phantom. Christine gets PISSED in this version, while the Phantom is a bit more on the cooler, controlled side, and Raoul seems to sincerely regret his actions since they only made the situation worse. I have to say that even despite the distracting shirtlessness of Raoul, having him actually hanging instead of just… being mildly inconvenienced by a noose clearly big enough for his head to pass through does make it all a bit more believable. I do buy that this guy is really in a situation where he can't free himself.

I also really liked the "Angel of music, you deceived me /I gave my mind blindly" delivery: it's not angry but rather deeply mournful and regretful, since now it's Christine's turn to realize that her trust in the Angel of Music because of her clinging desperately to any scrap of her father's presence/memory is what led to all of this. In a way, this version underscores Christine's growth as she tries to become her own person without the influences of her father or of the Phantom guiding but also limiting her, it's one of the main themes and I liked how her realization is delivered here connects it clearly to All I Ask of You and Wandering Child conceptually.

So the big moment, the choice, arrives. In the preceding moments Raoul struggled even more frantically and now is losing consciousness, so when the Phantom delivers his ultimatum (a very weary, exhausted ultimatum) Christine just looks at Raoul one last time (she thinks) and this gives her the strength to decide and act.

After the kiss, the way the Phantom stands still for a while before sloooowly walking to Raoul and cutting the lasso is… I don't really know how to explain it. You take all the defeat, resignation and brokenness of when he revealed himself to Christine at the end of PonR and double or triple them, then add in all the self-loathing he displayed during the rest of the musical. He does now realize with crystal clear certainty that he'll never, ever have what he wants in the way he wants it, and this time he can't blame the world but only himself and his actions. He's beyond broke, beyond everything really. Weary and with nothing left to look forward to.

Raoul collapses to the ground, and Christine runs to him and physically helps him up and to the boat. No elegant, composed sitting: here Raoul and Christine are physically and psychologically exhausted, so there's no time for all of that as they almost stumble into the boat and it's the Phantom that shoves it away, sending them towards their freedom and out of the stage.

The Phantom sounds so distressed in the bit just before this, and the fact that the last "go now and leave me" is sung when he's alone on stage, having physically pushed away the one person that, despite everything and despite making the choice under extreme duress, was capable of staying beside him… ooof. You really feel that he has nothing left now, and maybe for the first time ever he truly wants to be alone, to disappear completely. Which of course makes the brief Masquerade reprise even more devastating than usual.

Now, the other big controversial change: the ring return. The Phantom is facing the other way when Christine comes in. It looks like she's debating whether to approach him or not, and then when he sings "Christine, I love you" she just leaves the ring and silently leaves. The Phantom hears something, turns, sees the ring and picks it up, and in that moment from off stage the All I Ask of You final reprise is heard, accompanied by a soft, golden light coming from above showing that Raoul and Christine are making their way to the surface and to the (metaphorical) light.

Why no interaction during the ring return? In this production, they are leaning a lot on the Phantom as being a toxic influence/relationship for Christine, not without its allure and charms, but also very dangerous and controlling. And when Christine sees him kill because he didn't get his way… well, she gets it quite quickly and actively tries to avoid him, but realizes that she's still pretty vulnerable to him and his influence. And I think not interacting with him at the very end represents her cutting off a toxic person, at this point any interaction would be dangerous to her, and an unkindness to him.

She knows she's still vulnerable to him, that despite everything he did she can still care about him because she's just that kind of person. At the same time, the Phantom did the morally right thing by pushing her away from him and it's clear it took him every ounce of willpower he had and he might not be able to do so again. So, when Christine hears him declaring his love to an empty room, she doesn't risk wasting all the effort they BOTH put in (plus Raoul, who literally risked his life for her) to say one last goodbye.

It's a big change, it does change the ending and their dynamic a lot, so I get it if you don't like it. But it makes sense, it has its place in the narrative of this specific production, and since it makes such a difference I think if you're used to the "regular" ring return you need to experience it after getting through all the previous emotional beats in order to be in the right mind space to accept it.

When the Phantom realizes that Christine is truly gone, he slowly makes his way to the bed and covers himself with the sheets as the ensemble (led by Madame Giry) bursts in. Meg approaches the covers and pulls them away, revealing an empty bed save from the Phantom's mask, which she brings to her mother who looks at it somberly, and they both raise it for the classic final "shot".

I am ambivalent about this choice. On one hand, I think it looks a bit silly and could probably be implemented better, on the other hand I think it's meant to be a reference to the Phantom letting himself die in the book, and I did like it as a metaphor for his death, and having the ensemble kinda witnessing it and him not being so alone in his final moments.

I've decided to make a different post for my opinion about the singing performances and my overall opinion about what works, what doesn't, and so on, which can also be a TL;DR of sorts since I realize not everyone is interested in a song-by-song comparison.

For now, I'll just say that if you go in expecting West End or Broadway levels of opulence you will be disappointed by the stage sets, costumes, etc., which are rarely memorable, at times flops, more often are ok and serviceable (meaning they are not distracting and don't get in the way of the performance, even if they're not anything special).

If you want to see the story and characterization you already know, then you can watch one of the tens of bootlegs available and enjoy the subtle changes each actor brings to the characters (I know I do!), but if you'd like a different take on the main characters and key scenes then this will get your brain going.

If you go in with a preset idea of what you want to get out of the experience, chances are there'll be areas where it underdelivers and interesting stuff you might not notice while if you go in without trying to force your expectations on the show, then you'll probably come away with some stuff you liked, some stuff that you're not so sure about but is interesting or might work with a change or two, and yes, some stuff you didn't like at all, or left you confused, or is just plain weird.

Overall it was a fun and interesting experience, the vocal performances were great, the acting choices captivating and I went home with some new interpretations of the main characters while thinking about if I can make a trip to Milan in October to see it again. Despite some major flaws, it is doing something interesting and engaging in its own way and I'd love to see it again knowing what to expect.

#poto italy #phantom of the opera #long post #phantom of the opera italy #ramin karimloo #amelia milo #bradley jaden

[munsons-maiden]

Why do you think Eddie SMILES when they’re stealing that RV and the lady and banging against the door, and then HEADBANGS as they’re getting away? It’s obviously kinda funny but he was also so disgruntled and not happy about having to Hotwire the rv? Kinda a random q but you have such good insights on him and wanna know what U think.

I LOVE these kinds of questions!

As you said, he's unhappy and very possibly disappointed in himself because he swore to himself he wouldn't wind up like his dad did and hotwiring a car is exactly what his dad did and wanted Eddie to do - it's a symbol of the life Eddie actively rejected. Yes, he might be selling weed and the occasional pill/ketamine but selling low-key drugs, even though illegal, is a very different type of crime than stealing cars/ stealing stuff in general because apart from it being illegal, it's..."honest" work (in lack of a better definition); we see Eddie mainly deals weed and he doesn't push weed or anything else on anyone so each deal is informed and consentual, in a way like selling ice cream at Scoop's. Just with weed and without the little sailor's costume. Eddie despises the fact that he has to hotwire that camper - but it's neccessary. There's no other choice because that camper is the only way to get to the War Zone fast enough to get weapons and save the world, so while a crime, the reason this crime is rooted in is a noble and heroic one. Eddie knows that, which is why he manages to push back the disappointment and the memories pretty quick, and the fact that he knows it's wrong but neccessary in the long run takes off the edge of the situation.

Now, we know Eddie's not a mean or malicious person, he's not delighted in other people's misfortune, so we can exclude those as reasons for his grin in that situation.

Which means there are only a few options left which would be true to Eddie's character:

adrenaline. Eddie, someone who admits to being so scared most of the time that all he does is running, has stopped running and is about to face Evil - true Evil, monsters, a whole other dimensions full of things that want to kill him (and already tried to) but he has no choice because somebody has to stop Vecna and save the world.

gallows humor (because of the above)

he's scared senseless but he's still starting to feel proud of his decision to stay and help, that he'll be a hero alongside the others and stop running, finally do something to get himself out of the horrible situation he's been stuck in for the past few days, which brings a certain boisterousness

these two neighbors are painted as...well, not as mean people but the way one would imagine very typical, small-minded hicks. Not a poor single mom or a sweet old couple but they're painted as rather disagreeable which leads me to the final point which is more of a personal headcanon/assumption than proven by canon: it's personal. The choice to steal exactly this camper was a personal one. There's a story. These two either butted heads with Wayne, or with Eddie, or both. Maybe called the police on him for practicing the guitar too loud or blasting his music too loud, idk, but I'd bet my left arm Eddie picked that camper for a reason and I'd bet my right arm that we'd all agree with his reason 😂

as for the headbanging...it was metal so headbanging was absolutely fitting for the situation

One a sidenote: Robin and Dustin show a similar reaction to Eddie's - Dustin comments, very bemusedly, "Shit, they look pissed" to which Robin replies sardonically, "It's not every day that you lose your house and car in one swoop" so Eddie's definitely not the only one who's having fun here and I love it 😂

(Idk if it's okay to tag you but @kedreeva , I think I'd love to hear your take on that scene 😁)

#kiki answers #eddie munson #eddie munson meta #stranger things #stranger things 4

[lmelodie]

Ok SO!!! I just recently read through the entirety of the junior novelization of the Santa Clause 3 and yall. There's a handful of crazy stuff in here, and I see no one talking about it so I WILL. I didn't cover EVERY changed detail, but I think I did mention a lot of them lol.

I read the book so you dont have to!

So, some of the big changes between the Movie and the Novel:

The change probably everyone cares most about is that yes, Bernard is in it. But he basically shares character screentime with Curtis throughout the whole thing, very very minor role. Any scenes Curtis has during the movie, Bernard would also sometimes be there, and that's pretty much it. 

But the biggest shift story wise in the book is that Jack uses Curtis’s jealously of Bernard (Head elf position) and Curtis JUST TAKES JACK STRAIGHT TO THE HALL OF SNOWGLOBES HIMSELF. Just lets the man inside and explains the whole escape hatch thing. I don't think it's ever explicitly said but I think from this point on he just has the snow globe now for the entire rest of the time while he goes around fucking shit up. 

So that whole mess kinda shifts around some of the other events as a result. Jack and Lucy have a talk (So that he can distract her) way earlier then in the movie, after messing up just one machine. 

AND LUCY RECOGNIZES HIM IN THE NOVEL. She says Jack Frost? and he says YES! THATS ME! She talked about how she knows him as the guy to give us the first good winter freeze, and then she starts bringing up Christmas in association, which immediately brings down his mood about the whole thing. 

But because of the whole shifting of events here that also means that JACK NEVER FROZE LUCYS PARENTS IN THE BOOK. I don't even think he directly interacted with them at all.

And in the Book version when Scott gets reset to his Santa-less life, it's in the middle of a house party celebrating his new CEO job. And he gets all the supplementary information on his new life from a very confused very huge bodyguard/assistant, instead of the twink he talks to in the movie. 

When it gets to Santa Jack in the north pole, hes still described as being very wrong and off-putting (even actually scaring some of the children) but it's implied that the Santa look IS ALL FAKE. The clothing is very deliberately described as a COSTUME, and it describes how THE ENTIRE BEARD IS COMPLELY FAKE. LITERALLY GLUED TO HIS FACE. Even more of fraud then before. 

And it's revealed by Jack that after midnight that night, SCOTTS MEMORIES OF BEING SANTA WILL BE WIPED. HE’LL, JUST COMPLETLY FORGET ABOUT IT. 

And there is no secret mission for the snow globe back either. Lucy plays no part here. Scott just sneaks into the hall of snow globes, yoinks Jacks snow globe and then messes up his show. But he instead baits Jack into saying the magic words playing it off as memory loss. What magic words?

Finally, because Lucy's parents were never frozen in the book, there was no magical hug taking place after everything happened. And it seems that the concept of being thawed/frozen and magical hugs was thrown completely out the window here. So instead of a magical hug, Jack instead gets banished to the south pole as punishment.

And now for some not so big details about the book that I find interesting:

It's mentioned when Jack is talking to Carol that HE CANODICALLY HAS A MOTHER??? IMPLYING THAT ALL THE LEGENDARY FIGURES HAVE PARENTS??? I'm glad that its almost practically cannon that Jack has mommy issues confirmed. I take it as canon casual Winter Frost mention @safyresky​

Speaking of the Legends! They actually get a little more time in the meeting at the beginning and therefore just a little more personality which I LOVE. There's a line that's describing Father Time brewing Sandy some coffee for him to stay awake. AND I QUOTE, “extra caffeinated triple espresso extremely strong coffee.” FT is a peach.

They just have some good lines in this meeting scene that just wasn't in the movie.

Another really funny difference that I love is that in the book when fixing the sign JACK COMPLETLY FALLS OFF THE LADDER ALLTOGETHER. HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO USE A HAMMER AND JUST FALLS OFF A ROOF HEIGHT LADDER. Icon

Charlie in the book, while being almost exactly the same, has a completely different girlfriend named Nikki. THAT SCOTT HAS NO IDEA ABOUT until she walks straight through the door while he’s visiting the family. And as a cover up Charlie told her that HIS DAD WORKS FOR THE CIA. AND SCOTT LOVES IT.

It should also be noted that while Bernard is in the book, Jack forgoes messing with him all together for his plan. A WISE decision. 

Scott actually has a pretty cool break scene thrown in there where he needs to clear his head, so he goes off to the reindeer stables to more or less hide from the chaos. He sits down on the floor with a comet and just cuddles with the reindeer for a little bit while he vents about his problems and it's actually really sweet.

And I also find it interesting that Laura was called in specifically to help delivery Carols baby. She was also the one in charge of the delivery room renovations while the in laws were visiting. Dr. Hismus is in the book and he’s there, but for some reason Laura also had to be there to deliver the baby. 

At the council meeting there was mention of Frostmas Dolls. I don't even wanna know what those would look like.

We also get a foreword by Bernard and Bman’s signature

#nonart #text #The Santa Clause #the santa clause 3 #the santa clause 3 novel #the santa clause 3 book #It was a WILD RIDE yall #reading this thing was a trip #but also! It will serve as great inspo for my main storyline i hva eplanned #a lot of little things about the book i actually really liked

[peculiarbob]

I watched the FNAF movie so here are some of my thoughts (full spoilers):

-MATTHEW LILLARD!!!!

-I think we all knew he was gonna be William Afton but I was still happy when he showed up in the springtrap costume

-Why is Michael kinda….

-The height difference between Matthew Lillard and Josh Hutcherson is so funny

-Abby was so cute! She really embodied weird little girl vibes

-Vanessa! You poor thing, you didn’t deserve any of that

-I did not expect her to get stabbed

-And I really didn’t expect William to be HER DAD

-MATPAT?!?! AND HE SAID THE THING!!!!

-The fort building scene??? I loved it so much it was so cute

-The animatronics really felt like they were possessed by kids (at some points)

-The cupcake was a menace!

-The whole kidnapping of Garret is so odd?

-Like they’re probably gonna explain it better in the next movie (I think they’re gonna make at least 1 more)

-I like to think that Michael’s memory is wrong in some way. So much doesn’t add up with that we know from the lore but also with what is shown to us in the movie.

-Also Michael, Abby, and Garret not being Aftons changes so much!

-But obviously they’re connected somehow. Once William saw Michael’s last name he switched up. I’m very curious as to how this story will progress.

-I think the spring lock scene was good. It’s a pg-13 movie, I wasn’t expecting too much gore

-“I always come back!”

-Honestly this movie wasn’t what I thought it would be. I thought there would be more security camera stuff, closing doors and all that

(I actually went to see it again so I’m here again to finish up this post)

-Since when could they leave the pizzeria?!?! I’m not incredibly caught up on the lore but I thought they couldn’t do that

-Also the aunty died right? What ever happened with her????

-I need to say this: was the scene where Abby draws William killing the kids then the kids turn in William kinda cheesy? Yes. Did it make sense? Yes.

-Also I feel like I’m one of the few people who had a good theatre experience.

-Like yeah there were kids making noise, but it wasn’t too loud and their parents were able to get them to quiet down. Usually I get frustrated with kids making noise in a theatre but they all sounded like they were having fun and they really enjoyed the movie so I couldn’t get mad

-Max didn’t deserve that! I almost forgot about her. Like yeah she was spying on Michael but she didn’t deserve to get chopped in half

-The way this movie was shot was so well done. I love all the close ups and zooms and it was really nice to look at

-William fucking BODIED Michael. Bro went flying.

-Vanessa’s fear in her eyes when her own father stabbed her. She knew the risk the second she stepped in but that doesn’t diminish how terrifying it must’ve been for her.

-I loved Vanessa’s childlike happiness. We don’t see it too often but you can tell how much she loved Freddy’s. The part where she asked Michael to dance felt so innocent

-Very random thought but why can Abby see the ghosts? Was it ever explained in any books or the lore? Because she saw them before they went to the pizzeria right? Or were those actual imaginary friends?

-I really should’ve went into this movie with the mindset of “anything could happen” because, like most people, I know a bit of the lore so a lot of the big changes really threw me off

I think these are all me thoughts (for now)

#bob is talking #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #william afton #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #vanessa shelly

[littlestsnicket]

Hi! I'm really late to the ASOUE fandom, so I'm happy that there are still some great fanblogs around. I loved reading through yours. I wanted to ask what you think of the Netflix series and the movie in relation to the novels. Apologies if you've already answered this question!

Also (and slightly related) do you have any Jacques Snicket headcanons for the book or the Netflix character? I never really noticed him in the novels but I loved him (probably Nathan Fillion) in the show.

Thank you <3

welcome to asoue fandom! i’ve been a fan of these books since they were first published and didn’t get involved in fandom until after the netflix series had finished, so it’s never to late, and i’m glad you enjoyed my blog!

i have talked about my thoughts on the netflix adaptation (i forget which tag i used, i was trying to use a consistent one for that at some point…), but i love talking about adaptations and how they work and i’m always happy to talk about it some more!

i saw the movie when it came out, and i don’t remember feeling very strongly about it one way or another, which says something because 2004 would be around the peak of me obsessively rereading the books so i should have cared a lot. i mostly remember really liking violet’s costume in an objective, aesthetic sense and also feeling it was deeply deeply wrong for the tone of the books/how things looked in my head. i’ve only rewatched it once since then with lemony snicket’s commentary track, which is just absolutely delightful, so i’m afraid i don’t have much to say about it.

i think the netflix show is a good adaptation with some things i will go to my grave mad about. i love the visuals, it’s the exact right amount of fantastical and timeless. it’s the right amount of funny while still having moments of intense seriousness. i love the musical numbers in season 2. i love what they did to change the vibe of this being a tv show so it shouldn’t exist in a world driven by books like the books do. i love the addition of the recurring adult characters.

since you asked about jacques snicket, i really love how they re-conceived that character to be a suave, james bond-y, spy type. i think it serves the rest of the changes they made really well. i enjoy his relationship with olivia and larry the waiter. i love the dynamic he has with olaf. i will die mad that they didn’t give him a unibrow. we deserve otherwise conventionally attractive jacques snicket with a unibrow. it’s thematically important damn it!

book!jacques snicket, who we only really get to know through his letters in the unauthorized autobiography and quigley’s memories, will always be the jacques snicket of my heart, but i can love both.

also still mad about the opera night. it is absolutely thematically critical that the viewer not know what happened, and what you gain isn’t enough to offset that. also wish we had gotten more morally grayness from vfd. i really love how the organization is introduced in season 1 and 2, but it never got to evolve into being about how kind, well meaning people can do horrible things either because of their own flaws or because of intractable circumstances, and we all have to live with that because it’s part of the human condition.

i don’t have any netflix!jacques head canon, except that in the fictional version of the show that i got to have input in, olivia learns that he’s done really difficult to rationalize things from the snicket file and that puts her in a much more similar to book!olivia’s mindset when the baudelaire’s meet her at the carnival.

i have lots of book!jacques head canons. i think i’ve talked about most of them before but these are my favorite: 1, jacques looks almost exactly like lemony but is several inches shorter and 2, jacques is the least committed to vfd of his siblings, and he will always put the safety of the people he loves (but especially lemony) over the greater good.

#mayo replies #misskatiewrites #asoue #thank you so much for asking :) #adaptation #jacques snicket

[sindar-princeling]

actually! i have another question! i know you’ve said that ROP’s holistic reception was rather… :/ but how was the show’s true quality? was there any memorable/fitting music? was it plot accurate? was the film quality high? and a bonus, do you have a favorite scene?

not to offload all this on you at once, but i just want to know your opinion of its quality uwu

hi again! ❤️

I just wanna begin by saying I'm no expert on film- and tv-making, so I don't think I'll have much professional input, but. here we go!

(this is gonna be a spoilery review, just a warning)

overall, the quality was pretty uneven, I'd say. the show was advertised as the most expensive series ever made, and... I personally couldn't see that. especially regarding costumes and cgi, i feel like there was a lot of room to improve. some views and wide shots of locations were pretty nice (lindon, eregion, also khazad dum was just beautiful in some shots), but the scene where they were sailing to valinor looked really bad to me, especially those cgi seagulls.

the acting was a mixed bag. there are characters whose acting i really enjoyed (miriel in the second half of the series, elrond, arondir had his moments, adar was GREAT, elendil was pretty cool, durin was good even when the script wasn't), but it only made the rest look worse in comparison, i'm afraid.

I'd say the music was good. I'm not sure i'd call it memorable, because apart from the opening credits music i well. don't remember it, but that may just be my shitty memory jshkjfhjdk but I don't think there were any moments where music felt unfitting or jarring. it was fine.

about the writing... okay, that's a long one.

as for the plot - they didn't have many rights to tolkien's works, so their options were limited, plot-wise. even the intro with some information from the years of the trees and the first age was very general, and didn't even mention the kinslaying.

but while they had to invent a lot of plot, the characters were RIGHT THERE. all they had to do was do them justice, and in my opinion - they didn't. galadriel isn't wise or power hungry (in my opinion), and it's a shame. her arc is in most part just the writers screaming ISN'T IT IRONIC HOW SHE CAUSED THE THING SHE TRIED TO STOP, it lacks any subtlety.

(on this topic, why did sauron tempt her, and not celebrimbor? does it stink a bit of homophobia or...? it's like they were deadly afraid of even a hint of homoerotic subtext. like im sure that's what happened, but it still sucks)

it's a story about forging of the rings of power, and celebrimbor is barely there. i'm really baffled by some of the writing choices, because they clearly had the rights to the rings, celebrimbor and sauron, so why not tell the story that was written? there is enough material there to tell a compelling story, and in my opinion choosing to omit and overwrite it was a bad one. neither galadriel, nor the original plot benefitted from the writing choices, i think. they both ended up heavily flattened and less interesting than their original versions.

galadriel especially had many of her ambitions and stuggles taken away from her - by making her conflict with sauron central to the plot, the show takes away from the fact that galadriel's biggest stuggle has always been with herself - and in lotr, she wins when she resists the ring (NOT sauron - she resists her hunger for power and her huge ambition. it's about HER). it was one of the changes that made me the saddest, because they had a truly amazing, iconic female character right there, and they wasted her potential so painfully.

it WOULD feel wrong to say i wish they just hadn't chosen her as the main character, because we DO still need more female leads - many, many more. but i can't not be angry at the way they stripped her of her ambitions, best strengths and defining flaws.

there are also many changes to the lore, to which my reactions switched between "why add that?" (isildur's sister, the priestesses? witches? whoever they were), "why change that" (mithril lore (im still all "???" whenever i try to make sense of it)), and "oh my fucking GOD" (halbrand as sauron, mordor's on/off switch). especially the last one was... ridiculous. mordor is a country that's seeped through with evil because of the dark forces inhabiting it for ages, and you're telling me they decided to make it so that it was created within a few minutes because a guy put a sword into a keyhole? fuck off

the whole sauron thing is a material for a separate post and this is already long enough, but I'll just say. i don't get why they had to make drama around sauron. everyone and their mother knows who sauron is, you can just use the impact that this character has instead of creating conflict with a weak plot justification. of course it was going to be hard to create a character from someone who in LOTR is more a symbol than a person - but in my opinion, they didn't make any right choices regarding him. and they didn't even tell the actor he was going to be playing sauron until they were shooting episode three, which is a trend that seriously needs to stop.

all in all, if you're looking for bits of story and lore that tolkien came up with, they are not there. solid 90% of the show - maybe more - is something new or changed

the costumes are... meh, mostly. there is one thing in particular that makes my blood boil, and it's Numenorean armor, best visible on Miriel. take a look at her sleeves:

(id in alt text)

it's fucking. fabric with the scales pattern printed on it??? which is either a pretty bad costume idea/design, or THE cheapest, laziest, almost insulting execution I've ever seen.

also, many costumes are only like two layers of clothes, they usually have few details like jewellery and such, so they often look simply unfinished. especially elven costumes are underwhelming. I think as far as i remember, the dwarves' costumes looked best. I'd recommend watching LanaMarie's videos on youtube, I've stumbled upon them while looking for video essays on rop and it's clear she knows what she's talking about when it comes to costuming.

(also, I stand by what i said when the first promo pics came out - why would you get rid of long-haired male elves? I hate that they did that. are they THAT afraid of breaking gender norms?)

last but not least - i was seriously not impressed by the actors' accents choices. you got English elves, irish harfoots, scottish dwarves, cockney (? i'm not sure) orcs... it was a mess of really ugly stereotypes.

(EDIT: I worded this poorly - it sounds like I mean to say it's the actors' fault, but that's not what I meant. I wanted to say that the actors playing certain races seemed to have been assigned certain accents by the creators and along with some script choices it created a few ugly situations that felt very stereotypical and harmful towards real life people who speak with those accents)

HOWEVER, despite all that i'm gonna end on a more positive note and refer to your last question, my favourite scene. this spot is easily taken by the scene where disa and some other dwarves sing to the mountain to let go of trapped miners. it had amazing impact, to me it was a beautiful piece of lore, and it showed the love and respect and trust the dwarves have for the mountains. it was so short and simple yet so amazingly effective in conveying everything it had to convey. also disa's singing gave me goosbumps, the actress has an amazing voice.

okay, i think that's all i wanted to say (wow, that's. a lot). thank you a lot for asking, I hope that tells you what you wanted to learn! and i really enjoyed this opportunity to talk some more about my thoughts :)

#you managed to ask this on the day when i have some free time in the evening so i was excited about replying to this in detail all day #no questions except on party business #fou-and-foue #rings of power #trop negativity

[jasperakalucy]

hello, gamers, comrades, foes, freaks, losers, gay people, and cowboys,

welcome to the Best Answer Awards of the RTumblr Secret Santa 2022 Google Form!!!

no you don’t win anything and I’m not saying who said what. because this is my award show and I make the rules

Question 1: tumblr username: and the best answer is........... “jasperakalucy”! because I am based

Question 2: are you. interested in this: “no. i am just here to watch. do not give me a gift. i'm just filling out the quiz for fun” someone actually put this and i was so unbelieving that i forced them to join /hj

Question 3: how active are you on rtumblr/are you new (can pick multiple): “I did something of value once and never again. One day I will return and you will all regret forgetting me” mysterious! i love it!

Question 4: what kind of art can you do? (can pick multiple): “i can kill you over and over again in minecraft” that is an art and I’m so proud of you

Question 5: what do you plan on giving as your gift? (elaborate on above question): “Whatever the person desires. I cannot however: Make anybody fall in love, kill somebody, bring somebody back to life. I will most likely write or draw.” damn. poetic honorary mention: “The most important gift: friendship And a piece of carrot”

Question 6: do you have a c!self (can pick multiple): “girl help his face is my fucking pfp his look is straight up just 'onceler’” girl help indeed, why would you ever want to be like the onceler /hj

Question 7: if you answered yes then drop your c!self explanation (image upload at end): “It is literally just me as a rat with no roleplay or lore or anything, I hope this appeases the rumblr tumblrs (/pos)” the rumblr tumblrs joke is funny every time. i still think about the time i called RTgodot rumble tumble gumble

Question 8: what is. your gift prefernece (for your gifter to gift to you) (can pick multiple): a solid 50% of you told me i spelled prefernece wrong. i am still amused by this

9: what is your number 1 preference gift this one’s boring SKIP

10: elaborate on above (give as many details as you want. literally go buckwild) (this will be sent to your gifter): “I don’t have specific preferences I just think rt’s cool:) do whatever your heart commands of you, take artistic liberties, feel the rain on your skin” the person in number 5 and this one are the same brain and i love that for them honorary mentions: “[taps on microphone] magistrex” “Draw whatever you want. Just draw. Draw something. I would like a civet/dog. why isn't my four key working”

11: would you rather post all of this art or send it privately? BORING SKIP

12: STILL BORING

13: AAAAAAAAAA

14: questions comments concerns: “you people seem insane but that's okay, who *isnt* in the RT fandom. I'll draw anything exept from magical john in a maid outfit or a bunny costume. i hate that little freak of nature” the fact that your hatred of magical john came so quickly out of nowhere made me laugh. you’re right, he is a freak of nature honorary mention: “gay gay homosexual gay. can i call you jasper? or aka...i like aka. unless you don't like it.” yes you can call me aka that sounds rad as fuck

(also people were very nice to me in this question and i do appreciate that)

AND FINALLY THE FREE SPACE QUESTION

15: free space. copy and paste the bee movie for all i care: “i have a homophobic slur to say!” I have not stopped thinking about this since it happened. you sound so excited. you never said the slur. you just said you were going to, and then left it. why? i laughed out loud when i read this the first time. what the hell does it mean? is it the f slur? is it a fun new slur you made up? what the fuck! in my memory this had a “:D” next to it, and that’s how i read it in my head. I literally know your username. I’ve never talked to you. what is going on inside your head? i love you. you really have guts. in questions comments concerns you said “do it fart” and only now have i realized that was a question, and not a command, calling me a fart. thank you for giving me such joy and confusion. i will never forget this.

honorary mentions: two different copypastas that reference al-qaeda two different meows (“meow” and “nya”) two different people saying i should not encourage bee movie posting (cowards/lh) one “according to all known laws of aviation,” one secret code from the “schrodingers cat” who ended up dropping (“9 1/13 14/15/20 23/8/15 9 19/1/25 9 1/13”) some screams (“WAAHAHJHKKK EAWERRRRWW WWEEEEEE”) a funny joke (“[insert funny joke.mp4]”) and of course

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#long post #if you have shorten long posts turned off i'm sorry #embrace magistrex #anyway i was bored and made this. enjoy #rtumblr #rtumblr secret santa

[cityandking]

🧱 😱 ✨ 🐺 for dai, minah and anticlea!

thanks dear!! // prompts I'd like to receive

[ 🧱 ] how would you describe your muses’ morality? what are their core values?

DAI — "nothing is more important than the responsibility my faith confers upon me to help others in need." originally his altruism was structured by the tenets of his faith, but he's come to understand that his altruism is his own and faith is just one way to guide it. with or without pelor, with or without tempus, he wants to help people and do good. he was lawful good when the campaign started, but he's shifted to neutral good over time.

MINAH — minah's morals are a little hard to pin down, tbh. she has a deep-seated lack of trust in any authority or organization, so her morality prioritizes the individual over rule of law. her sense of right and wrong is largely based on her moment-to-moment gut instincts in a situation, but tends to be driven primarily by her desire for personal safety and security (financially, physically, mentally, emotionally, etc.) and secondarily by an impulse towards compassion (she'd really really rather not break any fingers). she meant it when she told cian that there's always unfixible things, and she's not particularly interested in fixing them—she tries to keep out of the big-picture politics and ethics, and she's likewise not planning to cut down on the thieving any time soon—but that doesn't mean she can't tip a busker or talk to a half-blind orphan lordling or offer to save a templar's lover from tranquility (as an interrogation tactic, but hey! still an offer). it's the little touches when you desperately need them that matter most. minah is true neutral.

CLEA — clea lives by the old girl scout law of leaving a place better than you found it. she's lived a long time and values heart and courage and kindness and growth. at the root of everything, she's just a gardener. clea is neutral good.

[ 😱 ] does your muse have any specific fears? where did those fears come from?

DAI — he's afraid of deep water. his first death was pretty traumatic ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I rolled a couple times during the kaiju arc against panicking while they were underwater but he kept it together (shout out to that high WIS mod). besides that, he's afraid of failing the people he's supposed to be taking care of, which was always there but really kicked in when Izzy died. a lot of things changed for him when Izzy died.

MINAH — she's got a couple, yeah. she's a lil claustrophobic—she can deal with tight spaces, but she needs to be able to access an exit, otherwise she gets panicked about being trapped. a few escapes have gone badly over the years—crammed in some tiny hidey-hole hoping no one notices her, or not quick enough and ending up arrested—and she's afraid of ending up back in a cell

CLEA — her son's memory haunts her—she dreams about him sometimes, when she's not dreamwalking—but mostly she's just grateful to see him. it's the only way he lives on. she's definitely afraid of foresyhte going to the abyss (and then losing him just like everyone else), which is why he won't be going! problem solved.

[ ✨ ] what aesthetics or symbols do you reference when writing your muse? are these backed up by canon, if your muse comes from a canon? is there any specific relevance to these choices?

DAI — shields, the sun, wings, light. wounds/sickness come up pretty often, which makes sense because he's a healer (but *cocks gun*). lava, recently :)

MINAH — I associate her with the tragicomedy masks, and also songbirds. molten gold, a bit. silks (the aerial kind, mostly, but also costumes). the theater, of course. and nomadism—living on the road, horses and caravans, that sort of thing.

CLEA — old trees, shrikes, white winter foxes, snow. furs and beads and silver jewelry. weeping willows and labyrinths and tea and bright embroidery. the way sunlight feels through the trees on a cool day in early spring, a touch of warmth after a long winter.

[ 🐺 ] does your muse like solitude? do they prefer it to being around others? how easily does your muse get lonely?

DAI — definitely (desperately) needs his alone time. he's a true introvert; no matter how much he likes hanging out he simply Has to find some quiet time to rest and recharge. the trip through the storm where they were all crammed together in the tiny hut was one of the worst experiences of his life and he's literally in the abyss right now. he doesn't get lonely easily, in part because he's always had pelor with him—the loneliest he's ever felt, I think, is when his faith was in tatters and he didn't know where to turn.

MINAH — minah likes a little private time to take the mask(s) off, but she gets antsy if she's on her own for too long. even if she's not entertaining, she likes to be in a group—she's an extrovert

CLEA — she gets lonely really easily, actually. back home she was part of a big community, and then when she left she was constantly meeting new people, going new places, traveling with her party. being in selto is nice—she likes the city and she's got friends and plenty to keep her busy—but she never lived alone before. she has a tendency to talk to the plants (and the neighbors) when she's undersocialized. she really does wish forsyhte would visit more often.

#sorry these got Long I simply have many thoughts and feelings #daichi #minah #anticlea #good kids :') #memery

[saucylittlesmile]

Has Tessa ever said what her favorite costume was since retiring/the comeback? I know she once said her original Carmen costume but that was I think in 2016? I’d love so much to hear her talk more about her packaging and what she enjoyed wearing the most!

So, you didn’t know it but this innocent question has sent me down a very odd path lol. I remembered her liking a dress she wore in 2006; wouldn’t have remembered her Carmen answer off the top of my head but recalled it from your question; and realized that due to the sheer number of interviews or appearances she’s done later in her career, that there is a lot that I don’t know without research.

So off I went, and a quick Google search led me to some answers about Carmen. The dress from 2006 was in my brain already so I didn’t try to dig very hard for that. And I was hitting a wall about anything in more recent years.

My original searches on my own blog were fairly useless, because tumblr, but I when I went to find my links to 2006, I found this answer to a question on Tessa’s costumes from 2020.

Ironically, in comparison, this time I had no trouble with the Carmen answer - threecupsfull has a great compilation of that answer, which came from the post-Sochi but pre-comeback era. One of her answers also alluded to the bustle dress of 2006 (or so I thought but I’ll gee to that in a moment!).

The second time was in my own 2020 answer, because the 2009 compulsory Paso Doble dress link is also broken. The original link name was basically that it was to an interview with The Loop, a now defunct branch of CTV, and in which she credits her mom as one if her style icons; further research showed that the interview was from 2018 (the story linked here is about her Ellen jumpsuit, but further in is the same broken link that I have to her costume comment). So now I’m extra glad that I (or someone else) copied down what she had to say about that costume!

I was reminded all over again how many pictures/interviews/videos of VM have been lost to a general search with broken links and removed content. Not the first time or the last time I’ll lament that.

Meanwhile, though I always recalled the bustle costume, I am thrown all over again about the interview in which she stated it. I think it may have been debated years ago, because she says it was their first year in junior, for the OD. That dress was her polka dots, and the program, Tutti Frutti, certainly matches her description of fast footwork, but the dress to me, doesn’t have a bustle - it has a crinoline. (Looking at the back, there could be a little more fabric there, so she could have been correct but just not in how I think of a bustle.) I have spent a long time believing she meant her 2006/2007 dress, which she wore for compulsories, because it had a bustle - but it matches nothing else of her description, and given when she did the interview, is not something she would mix up with something from earlier seasons. So I’ve been wrong for ages lol!

Tears on my Pillow/Tutti Frutti OD, 2003/2004. You can just make out the extra fabric at the back, but the entire skirt had a blue crinoline for a fun thematic costume.

Golden Waltz compulsory dress, 2006/2007. The dress I have assumed through some incorrect years, with a distinct bustle at the back, appropriate for a waltz. Not on Tessa’s list, lol.

Carmen, 2012/2013, with the ‘deep V and lace sleeves and ruffles’. Also, an exposed back and again, some extra fabric at the rear of the skirt.

Paso Doble compulsory, 2009. A dramatic, crinolined skirt, another flower embellishment, deep V and exposed back. Ignore Scott’s horrible shirt lol (genuinely one of my least favourite Scott costumes for this dance).

I imagine her favourite costumes might be influenced by factors that we don’t really take into consideration - was it good memories associated with it, was it comfortable, was it dramatic? Whereas I think most of us are more about if it was pretty, or moved well or photographed well (as that’s how we mostly saw it) or had some detail that we appreciate (the Farrucas skirt, for example, or how I love that the Prince jumpsuit showed off their lines). I think it would be really interesting to find out Tessa’s opinions on her costumes, if she had a chance to think about it, and with the benefit of distance now, from her skating career.

#ask #you opened a big can of worms for me lol #but it wasn’t a bad one #favourite costumes #2004 #2009 #2012

[hidefdoritos]

I've been put on a steroid to help me beat this infection and boy howdy I hate it.

mental breakdown, food mention, SA mention, dysphoria, giant text wall, and a lot of relationship rambling under the cut. feel free to scroll. I am safe.

it feels like my brain has been lifted out and placed in a hot air balloon that is also a carousel. the balloon is piloting my body around. my body is extra sweaty and also jittery and little nauseous. the carousel of my brain is so anxious and cannot focus and is going Nine Million Miles Per Hour spiraling So Hard. i have 4 quizzes and an exam to do. i can't find an empty classroom without A Couple hanging out to "study" (in adjacent chairs, all but sitting in each other's laps) so I'm doing the exams from one of the music practice rooms and I can hear two pianists playing in different keys and it's driving me crazy and also I'm typing so much faster than I usually do and speaking fast too I think. i can't go back to my room because if my roommate is there and asks me what's wrong with me I'm gonna just cry because I'm spiraling SO HARD right now especially about how I'm single and my roommate is just gonna feel awkward and bad because she has a boyfriend and her entire identity is wrapped around him and she knows I envy that. oh gosh someone is playing a sad song and i'm actually going to cry about it. can't tell my other friend because she got broken up with Brutally over the summer and I don't want to make her sad. can't tell the other friend because she just got engaged. can't talk to the other friend because she asked a boy out for coffee and is texting the play by play about that. it's the same boy I wanted to ask out for coffee but i can't ruin her fun by saying so. i don't want to talk to a single person about it because I don't want to make them sad too but I don't want to talk to a dating/married person about it because they can't relate. don't want to talk to my ace friend because he can't relate. can't tell the other friend because that would require reaching for my phone and if I get on my phone I'll never get the schoolwork done. my screentime is over 8 hours today and I'm still not done. i have the world's most unmotivated group for my group project and I'm supposed to be leading and I've been sick for a month and the interview just fell through and nobody has stepped up to help. I'm so far behind I need to either get better or drop out. the costumes crew is waiting on me. i have paperwork due. everybody is better than me at everything. i scheduled work during the Thursday dress rehearsal. i'm in no way ready for the Friday concert. my stomach hurts from the antibiotic. i want to burst into tears but I'm so congested that I think a gallon of fluid would come straight out of my head and I've been trying so hard to hydrate. my laptop is in my lap and every time I look down I can see my chest which I usually don't feel dysphoric about but I guess that (and also sense-memories) decided to crawl out of the woodwork just for the heck of it because why not kick Moss while she's down I guess. my thrifted boots aren't actually leather and they're peeling. i'm wearing my split skirt and it looks incredible. i did such a bad job of painting my nails. why is there a mirror in this practice room. ironically the bottom of it cuts off between m neck and my shoulders, which is where I feel disconnected right now. my foot is going to sleep. i feel manic and depressive at the same time. my laptop is hot. i've been writing this post for 12 minutes and i think it helped. even if stuff isn't done it's helping to put all the thoughts out there. like venting a rice cooker. oh gosh I should be asleep already. i need to shower and go to bed. i already got a one day extension for this midterm i just need to go do it. i need to shower still. nooooo I have to deal with my naked body. i'm crying. why is this sending me over the edge? i'm gonna have to sit down in the shower tonight. oh no. on the one hand right now i have all the feelings of This Is Getting Bad Again that usually precede a serious low point in my life. however to be fair this is the first time i'm letting myself process any of the emotions from the last month of being sick. i just kept carrying on and collapsing over and over. ah, poor kid. i've been trying so hard.

#cj rambles #moss's musings #medical tw #steroid tw #sa tw #food tw #prednisone posting