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quickspinner · 1 year

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What about an AU with Mari's Nona Gina actually being old friends with Anarka? Maybe Anarka was a younger member on one of the exploring/travel groups that Gina was in, they hit it off, & lost track of each other over the years Gina leaving for Italy again & Anarka's thing with a young Jagged. Maybe during Mari's birthday party Gina notices Juleka, a resemblance of an old friend, & it prompts her to stay longer while also reuniting with an old friend and Luka and Mari finally meeting?

Not only is this ask hella old (see I told y'all I always keep them if I don't get to them right away) but I took it in a slighty different direction. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Always Have a Designated Driver

“Oh, my fairy, it is so good of you to come with me tonight. You know I could have taken a cab home.” Gina slipped her arm through Marinette’s and patted her hand.

“I know, Grandma,” Marinette said, and left it at that. She knew Gina wouldn’t take well to any intimation that Marinette was worried about her in any way. Gina had been handling herself quite fine across multiple countries and it was stupid for Marinette to worry, but—well. Marinette worried anyway.

“I hope you will not be too bored,” Gina continued as they went into the karaoke bar. There were restaurant tables set up around the perimeter, as well as the bar along one side, and the stage was set up and ready but not active yet. Marinette felt a bit of a nervous flutter; she wasn’t completely naive but she was too busy to hang out in places like this on a regular basis. “Though I suspect that my pretty Marinetta will not have any trouble once the boys get a look at you, eh?” She cupped Marinette’s chin and wiggled it a bit while Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Grandma.”

“Ah, your Nona loves you, my fairy.”

***

“You’ll like Gina,” Anarka declared, and Luka rolled his eyes as he got out of the car and followed his mother into the karaoke bar where they were supposed to meet up with some of Anarka’s old pals.

She had been telling him about one of her old motorcycle buddies all week, who was finally going to be in town to join in the reunion night, and from her stories, Luka thought he probably actually would like Gina. She sounded like an interesting lady, who’d been to a lot of places. However, he doubted he would manage to say more than “hello” to any of Anarka's friends before the drinking and shenanigans started. He was really only here to make sure his mother got home safely. Most of the time, Anarka was pretty responsible with her drinking, but things always got out of hand when she had these get-togethers with her old crew, so he and Juleka took turns being her designated driver.

At least karaoke had the potential to be entertaining. Hopefully. In his experience, entertaining and excruciating were the only two options. Usually a mix of both.

He caught the door Anarka banged open and made sure it shut quietly, and a shriek went up from the bar almost as soon as Anarka entered. An older woman in a motorcycle jacket came barreling towards them.

“Anarka, amica mia!” she exclaimed, and Luka took a step back as his mother embraced her friend. Both of them spoke over each other, and between that and their clashing accents, Luka had no idea what they were saying until they both turned to face him. Assuming he was being introduced, Luka offered his hand to the white-haired lady who looked at him over the rim of pink shades. She slid the sunglasses off and shook his hand. “Luka, so nice to meet you,” she said in slightly accented French. “I’m so glad you are here, you can keep my Marinetta company while we old ladies catch up.”

“Who ye be callin’ old now?” Anarka demanded, but Gina ignored her, gesturing for someone at the bar to come and join them.

“Anarka, this is my granddaughter. Marinetta, this is my dear old friend” Luka’s mouth twitched at the emphasis and Anarka’s indignant snort, “—Anarka, and this is her son, Luka.”

The petite young lady that had arrived at Gina’s side greeted Anarka and then turned huge blue eyes on him, pink lips curving up in a polite smile.

Luka swallowed reflexively, offering his hand. “Nice to meet you, Marinetta.”

She giggled nervously as she took his hand. “Grandma's the only one who calls me that. I'm Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It's nice to meet you too, Luka.” She was dressed simply, in well-fitting (very well-fitting) jeans and a black shirt with a wide ribbon collar that tied in a bow near her shoulder, soft makeup and her hair done in two tails. Not dressed for a night on the town, but it suited her, and Luka found himself enchanted.

Gina saved him from doing anything stupid by grabbing Marinette’s hand and shoving a small wad of cash into her palm. “Good, good,” she proclaimed, ignoring Marinette’s protests at taking the money. “Now, Marinetta, you and Luka go and get yourselves some food.” Marinette tried to say something, but Gina cut her off. “No, no, my fairy, I know you only came to make sure your Nona gets home safely, but there is no need to hover. Go away so that you will not be scandalized and hear things you wish you didn't know!”

Marinette looked somewhat horrified. “You mean there’s worse than what I’ve already heard?”

Luka grinned, and Anarka's booming laugh rang out. Gina turned Marinette around and gave her a little push towards the restaurant section.

“Go on, go on, my dear, you can keep an eye on me perfectly fine while you eat. Besides, it is this one you must watch out for—” She indicated Anarka with a tilt of her head, and Luka snorted in amusement.

“She’s not wrong,” he teased his mother, and Anarka put a hand on his face and shoved him good naturedly away.

“Off wi’ ye boy,” she declared, her accent getting thicker already. “An be ye a gentleman, ye hear?”

Luka rolled his eyes and turned to Marinette.

“Shall we grab a table?” he asked Marinette, who still looked a little stunned, and at her nod, he gently took her elbow and steered her to a booth that was likely to be quieter, at least until the real entertainment got started.

“I don't have to stay,” Luka said, gesturing for Marinette to sit as he glanced at a table of guys whose heads had turned as they walked past. “Or you don't, if you'd rather—”

“Oh, no, please don't leave,” Marinette said, catching hold of his sleeve. “I mean, unless you want to—” Luka was already sliding into the booth next to her.

“I don't come to this kind of place very often,” Marinette admitted. “I don't usually have the time, so…I guess I don't really know how to act.”

Luka smiled. “Act like yourself. Everybody’s here to have a good time. I won’t say no one’s watching,” he indicated the interested table with a nod of his head, “but I doubt the people who are, are looking to criticize.”

Marinette blushed, and picked up the menu that was laying on the table, hiding her face. Luka opted to give her a little space, picking up his own.

“Do you come here often?” she asked, fidgeting with her menu.

“Not here, specifically,” Luka replied, glancing around. “But I’ve been in and out of these kinds of places practically my whole life. First because of mom, and then performing myself.”

Marinette looked out from behind her menu, curious. “Performing?”

“I’m a musician,” he said, trying not to sound too proud of it. “Guitar mostly but I do vocals sometimes too. I play with a couple local bands at different places.”

“Oh,” Marinette looked impressed, and Luka felt his face heat a little. “You must be pretty good.”

Luka chuckled. “I’ll let you judge that for yourself sometime.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she hid behind her menu again. Luka cringed; he hadn’t meant that to come off like it had.

“What do you feel like?” he asked. “Is there something in particular or should we just order some appetizers so we can try a few things?”

They worked out what they wanted to order, flagged down a waiter, and then fell into awkward silence.

Marinette felt ridiculous; like her feet were too big and she didn’t know what to do with her hands, and she felt sure Luka must think she was some naive little pixie who hardly ever left the house except to go out with her grandma. Why had she said that? She just felt so uncomfortable and she needed to explain, and now it turned out he was in a band and went to these kinds of places all the time and probably hated that he was stuck here babysitting her instead of out there dancing with all the girls darting him appreciative looks as they milled around with their drinks in their hands. She should have let him go earlier when he offered to leave; she hadn’t wanted him to think she didn’t want his company but now he was—maybe she should—but they’d already ordered food and—

“Marinette?” Luka touched her shoulder and she jumped.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Marinette nodded quickly and then blurted, “I like your hair.”

She did like his hair. It was probably weird to say it though. Was it weird? Oh God she was so weird and she should know better than to try and talk to a hot guy like a totally normal not-weird—

“Thanks,” Luka said, running a hand through his hair with a smile that looked…a little self-conscious actually. It was…cute. “It’s not fancy but it’s easy to maintain at least.”

“Oh—I meant the color, I mean—I mean I like the way you wear it, too, it suits you, the ruffled look with your sharp facial features, it comes off really well—but the color is so pretty, and your hair’s still so shiny. I’ve always wanted to dye my hair but I was afraid I would ruin it trying to bleach it, since it’s so dark…”

“Oh, mine’s black too underneath all this.” Luka grinned. “It can be done, it just takes a little patience so you don’t fry it. You’d be cute with dyed hair. I mean, you look great just like this, but if it’s something you want, I think it’d look great on you. Not that my opinion should matter.” He closed his mouth abruptly and looked away, and Marinette simultaneously felt tortured and comforted. At least she wasn’t the only one who babbled.

Mercifully, the food came shortly after, and that gave them something to focus on and a chance for mostly safe conversation. The karaoke stage lit up and an MC came up to announce that the mic was now open, and started calling names of people who had signed up.

The plates were empty and the conversation had lagged. Marinette was desperately trying to think of something to say, and sneaking looks at Luka out of the corner of her eye. He had the most striking profile, all sharp angles, but when he looked straight at her, his expression softened, and he leaned in just a bit, as if to be sure and catch whatever she said.

She wished she were more interesting. She wished she had something to say. She’d bore him silly talking about fashion, she was sure.

“They look like they’re having fun,” she said finally, as a pair of clearly tipsy girls in very short skirts screamed the lyrics to “Material Girl,” into their microphones.

Luka agreed, laughing. Then he looked at her, and then away, and then he leaned towards her, tilting his head towards the stage. “You wanna have a go?”

“Me?” Marinette sat up straight, face flaming. Luka, sure, he was used to performing on stage, and he was cool and handsome and he looked like a microphone belonged in his hand, but—

“Well, us.” Luka laughed, straightening a little and turning his glass on the table. “I thought maybe we could go do one together.”

“I’m probably terrible compared to you,” Marinette protested. “You should go on yourself. You’re a performer, right?”

Luka grinned. “Marinette, look around. Nobody’s here to listen to the next great star.”

Marinette did look around, and he was right. Everyone was too absorbed in their own party or too buzzed to do anything other than roar support for anyone brave enough to take the stage, and most of the ones who did were…creative in their interpretation of the music.

“I’ll grab a book,” Luka said, sliding out of the booth. “You can think about it while we look through the songs.” He winked at her. “I’ll check on Mom and Gina while I’m at it.”

Marinette nodded, toying with one of her pigtails. It couldn’t hurt to look, right? And while he was gone she could come up with an excuse to say no.

“Hey, wanna dance?”

Marinette jumped and looked up. There was a man leaning his elbows on her table, grinning at her. She could smell smoke and alcohol all the way across the table. She put on her best social smile. “No, thank you, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Ah, ‘course you are,” he drawled, stepping back and sliding off the table. “Worth a shot.” He winked at her and wandered off.

Luka returned just as the other man drifted off. Watching the stranger go, Luka sat down and said, “Would you rather go dance?”

“Maybe later. But not with him,” Marinette said, making a face. Then she blushed. “I mean—”

Luka grinned. “Let’s pick a song.”

Marinette bent over the catalog with him, as he slowly flipped through pages.

“Let me know if you see something you like,” he said, and Marinette murmured assent. Luka didn’t smell like smoke or alcohol. Well, maybe alcohol a little, but anyone would in here. Mostly he just smelled…clean. And vaguely beachy? Interesting.

Songs. She was supposed to be looking at the songs.

“Okay, I know this one’s a little old, but it’s a lot of fun.” Luka pointed to a song, grinning.

“You can’t be serious,” Marinette laughed.

“Do you know it?” Luka repeated, still grinning.

“Well…yes.”

“Come on, we’re the only ones sober enough to do it, and if we mess it up, it’ll be hilarious. Win-win.”

Marinette still hesitated, but looking up at Luka’s face, something about the sparkle in his eyes made her say, “Okay.”

Luka raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? If you don’t want to, it’s really fine.”

Marinette’s smile turned a little more genuine. “Really. I want to. You’ll cover for me if I lose it, right?”

“Of course,” he promised, and…she believed him.

He left her again to go sign them up, and Marinette took a breath, wondering what on earth she was doing. Still, he was right, it could be a lot of fun, and…what was the worst that could happen.

She shut that thought down before it could go any further—it was always a dangerous line of thought for her—and stood up to peer across the room to where Gina’s white hair was visible in a knot of older people around the bar. They were loud, but not out of control. Satisfied, Marinette sat back down. Luka reappeared shortly after, and apparently guessed what she had been looking for.

“They’re fine,” he said, as he slid back into the booth. “Still at the 'telling stories loudly' stage. We’ve still got time.” He winked at her. “When she starts yelling insults at randos I know it’s time to take Ma home before someone calls the cops.” Marinette giggled, but Luka seemed entirely serious. “It’ll be a while before our turn,” he continued, and then hesitated.

“We could, um. We could go dance?” Marinette suggested. The panic that welled up was quelled by Luka’s broad smile.

“I’d love that,” he said, and stood up, offering his hand. Marinette took it, and let him help her out of the booth, her eyes suddenly locked on his.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” she warned, and stumbled a little on the step down from the booth.

“Me neither,” he said, and though Marinette didn’t believe him, it made her smile.

***

Luka was having the time of his life with Marinette on the dance floor. She wasn’t very coordinated, as she had warned him—or at least, her mind seemed to get in the way of her limbs, because once she had completely relaxed and stopped overthinking every little move she made…wow.

She sparkled. Not because of the way she danced, but just with pure joy and energy. She sang along with the music, and though he couldn’t really hear her over the speakers, he couldn’t stop watching her lips move.

They were briefly joined by Gina and Anarka and a couple of their pals, which was…embarrassing. Marinette got all stiff and awkward again, and let out a little shriek when one of the old men grabbed her around the waist and swung her in a spin. Gina was immediately in his face, clearly telling him off, and Marinette had to catch her arm and persuade her not to personally throw the man out of the club. Fortunately, Gina had had enough to drink to be easily distracted,

“I see where your eyes be lookin’, boy,” Anarka bellowed near his ear. “Mind yerself, ye hear?”

“I always do,” Luka replied drily.

“Aye, that ye do,” Anarka said with unexpected affection, hugging him tightly. “I know I need have no worries fer ye. Just be sure ye don’t be makin’ babies yer not ready for, aye?”

Luka reddened. “ Ma!”

Mercifully, Anarka let him go, and hollered that she was ready for another drink. Their group departed, leaving Luka and Marinette standing on the dance floor. Marinette leaned on his arm, and Luka took her hand without thinking. “Are you okay?” he asked, and she smiled up at him.

“Fine. They’re just…a lot.” She sighed, and Luka fervently agreed.

Then Marinette straightened and her eyes popped wide as their names were announced.

Luka leaned toward her. “Not too late to back out if you need to.”

Marinette looked for a moment like she might take him up that, but then she looked straight at him, squared her shoulders, and gave him a smile that made his knees weak. “Let’s do this,” she said firmly.

Oh muses help him, he was in love.

***

Marinette let Luka lead her to the crowd to the stage, her hand still clasped tightly in his. Predictably, a whoop went up from the bar as soon as they were under the lights. Luka let go of her long enough to pull the microphones from the stands and hand one to Marinette.

“I’ll start?” he murmured, and Marinette nodded. He took her hand again and walked them both to the front of the stage, flashing a grin at the crowd as those iconic first notes went up over the speakers, and the onlookers cheered.

Luka’s head bobbed to the beat as he watched her with a grin on his face. Marinette couldn’t help smiling back even though she was a little terrified and felt very strange on the stage.

Luka faced the crowd when the lyrics popped up and sang the quick-paced words of the verse with comfortable ease.

He looked at Marinette and she joined him on the chorus. Singing alongside Luka’s powerful voice made it impossible for Marinette to be timid as they belted together, “We didn’t start the fire! It was always burning since the world’s been turning! No we didn’t light it but we’re trying to fight it.”

Luka raised his eyebrows at her in question as they neared the end of the chorus, and though her hands were shaking, Marinette nodded. She took a deep breath, eyes on Luka, and launched into the next verse. By some miracle, she didn’t trip over the words once, and when she ran out of breath, Luka took up the next piece. They traded back and forth through the song after that, occasionally joining to sing some parts together, and always coming together on the chorus. If she made a slip, Luka covered it easily, and at some point their hands met and joined as they got more and more into the song.

Marinette knew that people must be watching; Luka was too good, too magnetic on stage, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The crowd didn’t matter; she was having too much fun with Luka to care whether the audience was paying attention or not.

“WE DIDN’T START THE FIRE,” they bellowed together, crowd practically forgotten as they faced each other. By the end of the song they were dancing around the stage together, and when the music finally ended, Luka threw up his hands with Mari’s still in his.

Everyone cheered, and for the first time Marinette looked away from Luka and into the crowd. Marinette could see (and hear, even over the music) that Gina and Anarka were losing their minds. She let Luka lead her down off the stage, grateful for his hand still holding hers. Her knees felt a bit wobbly. Luka wrapped her in a hug at the bottom of the stairs.

“That was awesome ,” he enthused, laughing with his chin on her head, and then he stepped back. “You okay?” he asked, and Marinette nodded shakily. Luka’s expression turned to concern, but before he could say anything else, Gina and Anarka were on them—literally.

It took a little time to fend off their respective relatives, but eventually Luka managed to get them redirected with a suggestion that Anarka and Gina should try a duet. They disappeared into the crowd, and Luka breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to Marinette. She was still shaking, and Luka took her elbow and led her back to their table.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, once they were there, and Marinette again nodded, this time managing a smile for him.

“I’m fine, really,” she promised. “I had fun, it—it was just intense .” She curled her still shaking fingers on the table.

Luka smiled and wrapped his hands around hers, rubbing some warmth back into them. “Sorry, I guess I’m used to the stage rush. You did amazing, though. You did have fun?”

“Totally,” Marinette said, squeezing his hand back. His hands were so much bigger than hers, she realized, and they felt good, moving over hers. Somehow, her eyes found Luka’s, and his hands slowly stopped moving.

They both jumped as the server stopped at their table and plunked a plate on the table with a hefty slice of chocolate cake and two spoons. “On the house,” was all he said, and then he was gone again.

Luka and Marinette looked at each other in surprise, and then giggled.

“Guess we impressed somebody,” Luka chuckled.

“Hmm.” Marinette picked up her spoon. “Well, it looks delicious.”

Luka gestured with his spoon. “After you.”

They ate the sweet dessert, murmuring appreciation, and then drifted into easy conversation, despite the increasingly raucous crowd around them. Neither of them minded having to lean a little closer to hear. Even with the noise, they felt apart from the crowd, in their own little bubble, until—

“Uh-oh,” Luka said, getting up from the table. “I think that’s my cue.” He took off through the crowd, and Marinette automatically grabbed her bag and followed him. She lost him for a moment in the crowd, and then found him holding his mother by the shoulders, talking soothingly to her while Anarka shouted over his shoulder.

“All right, Ma,” Luka said, linking his arm firmly through his mother’s. “I think it’s time to go.”

“We should probably go too, my fairy,” Gina’s voice, only slightly slurred, came from Marinette’s shoulder. She put an arm around her grandmother as Gina leaned heavily on her. “It is past your bedtime.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but didn’t object, steering Gina after Luka and Anarka. Anarka had clearly had more to drink, and once Marinette got Gina in the car, she went to help Luka, who was struggling to get his more combative relative to their car. Between the slurred speech and the brogue Marinette couldn’t understand much of what Anarka was saying, but when she slipped under the Captain’s other arm, the tirade cut off.

“Ah, yer such a nice lass,” Anarka drawled.

“Please don’t embarrass me, Ma,” Luka sighed, as Marinette helped him get Anarka going in the right direction.

“Embarrass ye!” Anarka snorted. “Son I got years of humiliation to heap back on ye, after all the pranks ye and yer sister pulled!”

Marinette giggled, and Luka shot her a longsuffering look.

“Please ignore anything she says,” he begged, and looked relieved when they managed to get Anarka in the car. Luka buckled her in, and then dug around in the center console while Anarka yelled at him to “gerroff already ye landlubbin’ swine!”

Luka straightened up and closed the passenger door with more force than was probably necessary. “Thank you,” he said, turning to Marinette. He rubbed a hand through his hair. “It was really nice to meet you, Marinette.”

“You too, Luka,” Marinette agreed. “I had a lot more fun than I expected to tonight.”

Luka grinned. “Me too. Listen, um,” he offered her a folded piece of paper he had been toying with. “This is my number. If you feel like using it, I’d love to talk to you more.”

Blushing, Marinette reached for it. Luka didn’t let go right away. “I’d really like you to use it,” he said softly, before opening his fingers and letting her take the paper. “Goodnight, Marinette.” He seemed to hesitate despite the words, and in a burst of courage, Marinette went up on her toes and kissed him lightly. Luka’s arm wound around her waist and pulled her back in, kissing her much more firmly. Marinette’s hands clasped behind his neck before she knew what she was doing, and the parking lot around them disappeared for a long moment. When Marinette’s feet were finally back on the ground, and there was room to breathe between their lips, she smiled at him. Her hands slid down his shoulders as she whispered, “Good night, Luka.” Then she turned and jogged back to her car, clutching the paper with his number. Luka watched her for a moment, and then went around the car and got in

Anarka was already asleep in the passenger seat.

Marinette ran all the way back to her car and jumped in, slamming the door behind her. She buried her face in her hands, panting from the run and the kiss and the—everything.

“Well my fairy.”

Marinette jumped half out of her skin with a little shriek, and lowered her hands to turn mortified eyes on her grandmother. Gina smirked at her. “I told you there would be no trouble once the boys noticed you, eh?”

“Just one,” Marinette protested weakly, and Gina grinned, reaching over to pat her hand.

“My Marinetta could captivate anyone with such a smile on her face as she had tonight. He is a good one, I think, but ugh, to have such a relative!” She laughed. Marinette blushed and shoved the piece of paper she was still clinging to into her purse.

“Nobody’s talking about marriage, Grandma,” she said a bit tartly as she started the car.

“It will not be long, my dear,” Gina drawled, leaning back into her seat. “It will not be long at all.”

Marinette shook her head and concentrated on getting them both home. She made sure Gina got to bed without passing out on the doorstep, and went to the guest room, where her things were already laid out neatly. She sat on the bed, and pulled the bit of paper with Luka's number on it out of her purse.

It didn’t say anything except Luka Couffaine and his number. She programmed it into her phone, and then folded the paper and put it carefully in her purse, just in case.

Before she could chicken out, she wrote a text and sent it to him, letting him know who it was and that she and Gina had made it home safely, and wishing him good night.

Her phone pinged before she’d even finished washing her face.

Glad you’re safe. We are too. I had a great time tonight. Is it too soon to ask you out?

AO3 Works | Fiction Master Post

#birthday big bang #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous spoilers #pro lukamari #ml fics #lukanette fics #i'll never not know you

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shitty-check-please-aus · 10 months

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What we need to do is convince all the disney adults in america that high speed rail would be a preferable way of getting to disneyworld compared to driving or flying. We could maybe harness their fondness for the monorail or something, but this is a group of people that has time, income, and passion that we could leverage. If we could direct 5% of the enthusiasm they have for limited edition popcorn buckets into calling their representatives and demanding high-speed interstate rail, we could get it by 2030

#at this point I don't care whether rail is privately or publicly funded #I'll ride the Mickey Mouse Express if it means not having to drive or fly everywhere #if you're on the disneyland side of the country I just don't have as strong a grasp on your psychology as a demographic #but I went to school with some twice a year disneyworld people #if you are a disney adult and you're reading this please don't take it as an insult #I don't think it comes off that way but you never know

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 months

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Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4 (soon))

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #lan wangji #Yungmeng Jiang training arc AU #I wanted to try out a different paneling style for this one - sorry I'm a day late! (there will still be a post tomorrow to keep on track)#The original 3 panel comic idea was fine but the point of this new schedule was to take time to push myself a bit more.#I was taking a look back through some comic artists I felt inspired by #and I really loved how Lynda Barry fills her gutters with patterns and doodles!#Obviously I'm not going as absolutely wild with it as she does but it was a great exercise!#I truly think the gutters are the most important and most overlooked part of any comic. There's lots going on in that space.#It's the same with timeskips. The implied movement between moments that we don't see changes depending on how wide that gap is #You're here for the funny tags so here's some that ties this time talk together:#I think LWJ was thinking about that second note from day 2 but it took him 7 days of hazing to commit it to paper.#I think he sends it a day later and immediately regrets it. Chasing down the messenger and everything.#You know if something actually happened to his brother he would never ever forgive himself for putting the bad vibes out there.#Third time skip was the hardest because there was so many possible flavours of jokes here. Day 8/9 was a personal favourite.#day 14 was also funny (week by week). I think the debate on 'how long does lwj take to catch feelings' is more or less:#'how long does it take for him to arrive at a particular stage of grief and yearning (and awareness of it all)#This is a symphony. There is an act by act structure. Every day he is fighting to keep his old sensibilities. He is losing so badly.#(I'll be returning to the main comic soon but there is more of this AU to come!)

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tshortik · 8 months

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I love you messy artstyle i love you visible brush strokes I love you textures and rough edges I love you imperfections I love you roughness and colour blobs I love you scratchy sketches and bold stylisation and dirt and imperfections I love you ugly and raw emotion!!!!! ❤️

#i talk sometimes #art talk #i made a tweet like this on twatter ages ago but i've been feeling this a lot lately #also this is the start of me writing more on this blog and not only using it as art because who cares!! i don't!!#I wanna translate raw emotion into colors and shapes. I wanna know where to ignore all details and where to go ham you feel me?#i used to dream about developing a style like for MtG where it looked like a masterful oil painting that oozes realism and details #and i've realised the last two years or so that I would actually hate that for me. I know I wouldn't enjoy doing it. For myself.#it's that pipeline from wanting to be the perfect realistic wotc artist to accepting that I will never be that #instead i wanna learn how to stylise better and get a good brush economy going yknow. I wanna be bolder.#i doubt i'll ever be as incredible as all these MtG artists no matter what anyone says. but it's ok!! i don't have to be!!!#i just luv art man!!

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egophiliac · 9 months

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swipes everything else off of the table to yell about diasomnia flower bookmarks

(I gave Silver one too :D)

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #white rabbit festival #me: oh boy i wonder what excitement will happen in this new part #characters: now it is time to buy souvenirs :)#me: oh god #jk jk even when the filler is kind of painful i do enjoy the little character moments #like everyone screaming as loud as they can into silver's watch #deuce busting out his suzy izzard impression #SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER!#and of course silver assigning flowers to the other dias and getting all sappy over lilia. god. delicious.#you don't understand this ten second long scene is everything to me #though we all know the real highlight #the knowledge that 1) deuce used to have an extremely silly edgy badass nickname #2) he almost certainly gave it to himself #3) he harassed epel's extended family to the point that they told horror stories about him and he was briefly epel's personal idol #epel: i heard he once killed three men with but a look #deuce: what no i never...i mean...ha ha sounds weird nothing a model student like me would know about #also deuce: if you fuckers don't apologize to my mom right now i'll fucking kill all of you (sees dilla) uhhh i mean #deuce: i challenge you to a children's game #black bunnies leader: (strapping on his duel disk) i accept #meanwhile silver is running full speed at a group of children screaming to them about donuts #we aren't going to talk about what ortho did with that fantasy-gregg's sausage roll #so glad that we've reached the 'what the heck is even happening' portion of the event #anyway i completely screwed up the resolution of these so here's hoping they don't look terrible!#whoops!

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explodingstarlight · 22 days

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doodling teetles

And here are some close-ups (might put them on their own backgrounds one day, but it's 5 AM and I'm tired so):

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lilybug-02 · 5 months

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Wow. That could not have turned out worse.

Part 23 || First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

This comic will be on Holiday Hiatus this December and January! While on a cliffhanger? What a scam! >:/

#Chara finally realizes something is wrong....very wrong #And you get to see little Chara for all of 2 drawings. wow. You guys are so spoiled uwu #Asriel and Chara bbfs #finally out of that darn tootin' Darkworld! WE'VE BEEN THERE FOR 2 YEARS!!!#LORE TIME LORE TIME. I know Chara is very vague about it but player-human relationships are very personal.#it can be hard to talk about them if you've been possessed yourself. especially with some stigmas around it #chara just wanted a glass of water. why you gotta do this to em #I am so so so happy to get here #the full excitement has faded since I first thought up this scene but It's still one hell of an accomplishment #YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA how many times I reworked this and how many rough drafts I've thrown out the window because of it.#tbh. I may post the 10+ rough pages that will never see the light of day #Im glad I didnt go through with that scrapped plot bc It was too many unneeded pages. I've learned to start condensing in a better way #I am also planning on showing off my Patreon soon :) so I'll be posting complete scrapped story lines over there #deltarune chara timeline #deltarune #utdr #deltarune chara timeline comic #art #my art #bread #chara #asriel #saloon darkworld #darkworld #deltarune au #college chara #college asriel

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a2zillustration · 1 month

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Gale and I had the exact same reaction when we opened that door.

[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

#this puzzle took me way too long bc I knew the answer but for some reason my brain thought the king could move in new and mysterious ways #It's been a hot minute since I've played chess and I was never very good at it lmao #It's canon that Croissant knows how to move the pieces but doesn't know any proper strategies #They would love for Gale to play with them and teach them more #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #act III spoilers #ansur quest #REMEMBER WHEN I SAID BLOCK THAT TAG IF YOU HAVEN'T DONE THIS YET?#THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING BEFORE THE BIG SPOILERS HAPPEN #croissant adventures #tav #gale #gale dekarios #gale x tav #breadweave #comics #WAIT I FORGOT there's gonna be a quick break in comics rn - I'll try to fill the gap with asks and other artwork #we'll be back on schedule on Monday!

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softiedingo · 6 months

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It still irritates the hell out of me how well Sylvie seems to have accepted Loki's absence. I mean, come on, Loki SACRIFICED himself so that in the end she could come back and live her happy life the way she wanted. But in this scene she seems to be talking about the fucking wind, they ruined her so much in this second season.

While Mobius seems SAD AS HELL. ALONE in a new life that he still doesn't know how to deal with and that he didn't ask for, without the presence of the person he liked most. He looks so devastated, like someone came and destroyed his favorite jetski, when in fact the only thing destroyed was his and Loki's chance to ride that damn jetski TOGETHER.

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makenna-made-this · 3 months

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Feel like shit just want them back

#I'm not even joking i think about them on average at least once a day #i am unwell #passenger pigeon #we did you so so wrong #it's Makenna Is Mad About Extinct Birds hour again #martha i will avenge you #i don't know how yet but I'll do it #shut up me #extinction #extinct animals #birds #birdblr #environmentalism #i want to see them block out the sun i want to witness their splendor #but i can't and my soul will never know peace

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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

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gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar.

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos.

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter.

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt.

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then.

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole.

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out.

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh.

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks.

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.”

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve.

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time.

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country.

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here.

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn.

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears.

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken.

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening.

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone.

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone.

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs.

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone.

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt.

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters.

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car?

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho. And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute.

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is.

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says.

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums.

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish.

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham.

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else.

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time.

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again.

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles.

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands.

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest.

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses.

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees.

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink.

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before.

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt.

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips.

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful.

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message.

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out.

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall.

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently.

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it.

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them.

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock.

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex.

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner.

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity.

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly.

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!”

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd.

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument.

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve.

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares.

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder.

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

#gay bar au #steddie #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #featuring robin as the worlds worst wingman #i'm never not going to bully eddie for walking on those tables #'why does everyone here hate me🥺' mf it's bc you keep putting ur nasty ass shoes where people eat #i've said it before and i'll say it again. someone should have yanked on his leg and made him faceplant. he would have deserved it #we stay billy bashing 💪#in this au the byers didn't move to california #jonathan still goes to school there tho #why? bc he and argyle are soulmates and time and space moved for them to make sense next question #i need u to know eddie does not have sex magic and steve isn't actually as smooth as eddie thinks. they r just obsessed with each other #that one person who was in my notes truthing ab a stoncy threesome. i was excited when i saw that bc i had this written hope u see it <3

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ofswordsandpens · 4 months

Text

Okay compiling my most critical opinions on the pjo show so far (episodes 1 & 2)

The Gods' Conflict, Foreshadowing, & Big Three Kids

The show has seemingly dropped a lot of the foreshadowing and threat regarding the gods impending war over the theft of the lightning bolt. In the book, Percy remarks about how the weather's been inexplicably weird and extreme. When he gets to camp everyone is on pins and needles about something and they don't want to talk about it but its still very present. By the time he's claimed as a son of Poseidon and everyone's like "oh fuck" and then Chiron finally explains to Percy that the gods think he's the lightning thief, everything clicks into place for the reader. It all makes sense why everything seems so wrong... because things are wrong. Meanwhile in the show, that doesn't carry through as much, so the reveal of the conflict between the gods and why that's a big deal falls flat in comparison imo.

They dropped/stalled the foreshadowing of the fates and the cutting of the string. They could very well include this in future episodes, and probably will, but I think the timing of it - Percy seeing this before he even knew he was a demigod - again carries some hefty significance and helped set the foreboding tone of things being wrong even from the beginning.

They did drop Zeus's attack on Percy in the minotaur battle completely, which does disappoint me. In the book, its lightning that blasts the car off the road. In the show, Sally seemingly loses control of the car. That change is pretty significant, because it's again losing the power of RR's foreshadowing in the book. The attack on Percy outside the camp borders was a duel attack from Zeus and Hades.

Finally, I don't like the changes they made to Percy's claiming scene, namely, the reaction from the rest of CHB. Percy being a son of Poseidon is a huge deal. When Percy's claimed, the attitude is very much begrudging reverence paired with genuine fear of what it means and what he represents. In the book, Percy is claimed. People gasp. Everyone kneels. Annabeth says, "This is really not good." In the show, Percy is claimed. People... stand there? Annabeth smiles - she's going to get her quest. The only person who has the most outright negative reaction is Luke. I won't go so far to say this is out of character for Annabeth, but it is focusing on an entirely different aspect of her character in the moment, and what the audience gets from Percy's claiming scene here, the tone, is now different from the book. Basically, the reverence and fear don't really carry across to the show, which I think is important.

The phrase "forbidden child" slaps tho.

2. Gabe's Characterization, Sally's Characterization, & Why the Changes do Make a Difference

I'm going to say this with great care: The show has absolutely depicted an abusive relationship between Sally and Gabe. The show has shown Sally to be a strong woman who would do anything for her child. The show has shown Gabe to be a controlling, toxic man.

What they have depicted in the show does not read like the characters and dynamic in the books.

Book Gabe is a violent, menacing drunk. He is so disgusting and vile that monsters avoid him. This is overwhelmingly apparent from the second Percy gets home in the book, even before he is aware of the physical abuse Sally has been facing. Percy has already been dealing with physical abuse from him, amongst other things (edit to be more specific: this is including verbal, emotional, & financial abuse). I've already spoke to it here, in-depth, so I'll try to keep it short but all of this has not been translated accurately to the screen. (Is this to say that a person must be overtly abusive to be abusive? No. But does this character on-screen feel like Smelly Gabe? No.) These things have shaped Percy (and Sally) in very specific ways. As others have mentioned: Percy cannot stand alcohol. He meets Dionysus and is reminded of his step-father. He gets to Tartarus and the air reminds him of Gabe.... The character on screen, while abusive, does not share this presence at all, and that makes a difference.

Edit: To emphasize once more, I am not saying that the show has not depicted a realistic portrayal of abuse. It has (verbal, emotional, & financial so far). It has also distinctly changed the tone and Gabe's presence from the book, to the extent that it no longer feels like the same character and that does have a rippling effect on the dynamics he shares with both Sally and Percy.

3. The Lack of Annabeth

Annabeth in the show is just like... really not as present as she is in the book so far, and I'm just kinda like, why lol?

Annabeth in the books is already way more involved in Percy's life. She was in the infirmary feeding Percy ambrosia after the attack (ulterior quest motives lol), she's the one who lead Percy around camp and re-explained godly parentage to him - and its a moment where she's very sincere with him, and even trying to help him! Instead these moments are given to Chiron and Luke, which I do get the merit of, but still, these were her moments!

Annabeth in the books had already surmised that the gods were fighting, something was stolen, and the something bad was going to happen, all before Percy had even been claimed. And she shared that with him! Again, the loss of foreshadowing and little bonding moments has me :(

I'm a little worried how they're going to deal with her crush on Luke because its pretty central to her character in the books! It helps Luke to manipulate her and also keeps her from admitting he's done something wrong. Also, it was very sweet and funny reading her get flustered - It drove home the point that she was just a kid with a crush that she didn't know how to handle. But in the show Luke spoke to her and I was expecting there to be some sort of reaction to it and there just... wasn't? (This is not something I'm laying at Leah's feet btw! Only the writers/directors!) We're only two episodes in tho so maybe we'll see it some more moving forward.

4. The Minotaur Battle

Again, I've already spoken about this in depth here but !!

The lack of Zeus's lightning strike, them all coming to a standstill and just chatting instead of running for their lives, Grover being awake and just sort of off to the side watching the fight, Sally being like "Promise Me Grover Swear it"... it all just doesn't ring right to me

I wanted more panic, more terror, more urgency. Higher stakes. I wanted Grover unconscious, I wanted to see Percy drag him into camp, and I wanted to see more of Percy's grief alongside his rage. Like the book did.

The pacing in the show here, and just overall, is weird

5. Other Stuff

Mrs. Dodds fight kind of fell flat too. It was honestly too sudden and Percy killing her in the show seemed even more accidental than in the book lol. Like, accidental impalement vs intentional swing of the sword.

They really had show Grover throw Percy to the wolves and not just gaslight him, but low-key have a part in getting him expelled? Not sure how I feel about it tbh.

More New York. I wish we had gotten the part of Percy taking the bus home with Grover included cause like? Him ditching Grover was funny, but it would have been the perfect opportunity to show Percy traveling through New York and establish it has his home. Shots of him looking at the city, walking the streets, interacting with people near his building.. yeah.

More Montauk too tbh. Like more shots of him and Sally on the beach rather than just the cabin.

Nectar and Ambrosia! Unless I missed it, which I might have, why have we still not gotten an onscreen depiction of it yet lmao.

#I'll add more tags/thoughts to this later lmao but!#pjo adaptation #pjo #percy jackson #pjo show crit #had to expand more on Gabe cause im already getting comments like: /you know there's more abuse than physical right?/#yes #I never said there wasnt #I never said that was the only form of abuse percy and sally faced #I said both show Gabe and book Gabe are abusive #but its played differently #tone wise #presence wise #and that matters

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