#of a sort

[letslipthehounds]

I've seen some people saying that, from the trailer, TFOne looks too silly, and not serious.

All I have to say to that is... do you even remember how silly and weird G1 was? Because I do.

#transformers #transformers one #spoilers #of a sort #transformers g1 #just saying

[egophiliac]

I love your unhinged energy of your comics it's just *chef's kiss"

I wanna ask how you rig your chibi characters if you use a program or an app ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

thanks! 💚💜💚

I use Spine (professional version)! I'm pretty sure it's the same program the Twst devs use for the chibis; I decided to try reverse-engineering 'em basically because my license was just sitting around gathering dust, and I thought it'd be fun practice (this was before I tried to rig Meleanor's cape). it is an industry-standard program and, unfortunately, is priced accordingly, so it's a bit expensive if you're not planning on using it professionally -- there is a free trial, though I think you can't save/export anything in it? BUT it is truly excellent and can do a ton of super cool stuff, plus is genuinely just fun to mess around in, so I 10000% recommend it to anyone who is serious about getting into 2D rigging!

behold...the BONES...Najma and her billion discrete tassels...don't pay attention to all the extra bones from my desperate attempts to control Meleanor's meshes

#art #of a sort #meleanor is in this one so here come the spoiler tags #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 part 5 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 part 5 spoilers #gif warning #gifs that will bounce their way into your heart warning #i used to be serious about 2d rigging but alas. not so much the animating. #i like making stuff! not actually using it! GOSH #but i used to make random little spine rigs just for fun #and honestly having an excuse to get back into that through twst chibis has been super fun! #if i want a small army of characters to bounce around then i can make it myself! #THE POWER... #god though i really need to redo che'nya again. he looks so off-model and weird. #you can definitely tell he's the first one i tried to make #do i have the fortitude to take a third attempt at him...

[hypogryffin]

au where chidori joins sees and goes to gekkoukan and absolutely nothing goes wrong and everything is ok 🙂

#i am a stable and well adjusted individual #persona 3 #p3 #persona 3 reload #p3re #chidori yoshino #a bit of junpei and mitsuru too but ill only tag #jundori #chef recommended #gryffin's aus #of a sort #1k

[littlegaycubeoftofu]

Whenever I see people talk about that first kiss between Ed and Stede, I generally get an undercurrent of having to defend it in some way, and it makes me sad. Because I genuinely do think the kiss is perfect for who those characters are, and it's not a case of finding justification for all the choices in that scene after the fact, but rather believing the scene was genuinely designed to be the way it is.

How many times has Stede been kissed romantically? I'm going to guess at most Mary tried a few times without much success. And Ed? I can easily believe that all his experience with kissing is as a statement of intent to fuck very soon. So there's Ed, unused to kissing as an expression of love, putting all his awkward, shy feelings of tenderness into a kiss that has to show Stede exactly what he's feeling. It's a chaste kiss, a First Kiss for both of them. It's adolescent (look at Ed's freshly shaved face, how they're both stripped of their usual "armour") and ungainly and neither of them knows what to do with his hands, but their love for each other guides their movements (Stede presses forward slightly, Ed cups Stede face so gently and instinctively).

So I won't ever defend that kiss, because it doesn't need me to. It's perfect.

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #stede bonnet #ed teach #ironically now it does sound like i think i needed to defend it #but really i just wanted to talk about my love for it #even if its about a year too late #ofmd meta #of a sort

[see-arcane]

@ Diablo Cody and Zelda Williams, I have an idea for a sequel,

#in which Lisa takes over the niche of necromantic surgeon #lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein spoilers #of a sort #my art

[redstainedsocks]

I know there's a well loved niche for royal whump, but lately I've been thinking a lot about royal *guard* whump.

Hurt for being loyal to the old king, punished for doing the thing they were trained to do. Grief-struck at the loss of their fellow guards in combat. Guilt at failing at their most important task: protecting the heart of kingdom.

#idk is this anything? #i want to write a new series about it but i also know i don't have the creative spoons rn #one day... #royal whump #of a sort #fantasy whump #whump tropes #death mention

[valdomarx]

Texts with Phoebe

Jamie and Phoebe text sometimes.

#they cause roy soooo much grief together. good for them. #jamie tartt #roy kent #phoebe kent #roy x jamie #ted lasso #my writing #of a sort

[zarla-s]

i’ll never get over this being canon

[patreon]

#deltarune #addisons #z art #z comic #of a sort #orange and pink between shifts #the biggest T and the nicest A

[marlynnofmany]

Mechanical Rhythms

I opened the door to the engine room, ready to declare “Lunch delivery!” but the place was so loud with machinery that I decided to wait. Instead I shut the door behind me and carried the tray of sealed containers past all the viewscreens, gauges, and schematics, and into the labyrinth of passages beyond.

They call it the engine room, but really it’s a whole complex on this spaceship. And it’s not usually this loud. All the thumps, roars, and dings seemed to be at max volume somehow.

When I reached the part that was normally smooth walls and amorphous shapes, I saw why. All the covers were off. Some were retracted into the ceiling, some swung open like window shutters, and more lay cluttering up the walkway along with a chaotic spread of tools.

From somewhere among the exposed wires and pipes, a gruff voice muttered angrily.

“Hey Mimi,” I said over the whooshing noises of the pipes. “I’ve got lunch for you.”

“Thanks,” said the voice, sounding tired. And gravely. I found it amusing that our engineer sounded just like any number of crusty old mechanics back home. Mimi’s voice was balanced out by the fact that his name was Mimi, and he looked like an octopus. “Put it on top of the big toolbox, will you?” he said, sticking a tentacle out from behind something shaped like a pipe organ.

“Sure,” I said. I was pretty sure I knew which one he meant. “It’s heated but sealed, so you can get to it when you’re ready.”

“Think I’ll take a break now,” he said. “This is obnoxious and a half.” More pale green tentacles emerged, followed by his round octopus head, and Mimi clambered expertly over the mess to plop down next to the food tray.

I looked around. “What’s happening? Eggskin said you were working on something that might take a while.”

“It wasn’t supposed to,” Mimi griped as he twisted a lid off. “I was just checking for efficient fuel use, since something wasn’t firing right, and now I’ve been tracking the flipping-flailing problem all day!” He dumped something into his mouth that looked like grapes. “I had other thingzh I wuz gonna do,” he grumbled.

“Sounds annoying,” I said. “Made any progress, at least?”

“Oh sure,” he replied, pointing a tentacle over his head at the set of pipes. “Tracked the problem to that area. One of ‘em isn’t in synch with the rest, and I am not looking forward to disassembling the housing so I can figure out which.”

The pipes were a dull coppery-brown, without any of the translucence of certain other engine parts. “Yeah, I guess you can’t really see from here, huh?”

“Nope,” Mimi said, prying at another container. “If I ever meet the pebble-brain who designed this ship, I will have words for them.”

I moved closer, picking out the sounds of these engine parts over the others. Kind of a whoosh-whirr-wheet. “Can you tell anything by listening?”

Mimi spoke over a mouthful of food. “Like what?”

“You said one was out of synch. Does it make a different noise?”

With a wave of tentacles that I took to mean I doubt it, or maybe You’re welcome to try, Mimi focused on his lunch.

Well. Whyever not.

I stepped over more tools to where I could stick my face up close to the noisy things. At least this part wasn’t the loudest — that honor was reserved for the whump-screech rhythm from the boiler-looking dealie down the way. I didn’t know what any of this stuff did.

When I listened from up close, I found a surprisingly catchy beat to the noises. It reminded me of the dishwasher my parents had when I was a kid. Fond memories of dancing in front of it. I’ve always taken my small joys where I find them, and I’m pretty sure that stemmed from a good upbringing. Any family that encouraged kids to dance to dishwasher noises is one that can find fun anywhere.

I moved along the row of pipes, listening to each in turn, nodding to the beat until I found something that didn’t match.

Whoosh-whirr-wheet.

Whoosh-whirr-wheet.

Whoosh-whirr…whirr…

“It’s this one,” I said, standing back and pointing.

“What? How can you tell?” Mimi demanded.

“It dropped the beat,” I said.

“What?”

“It doesn’t match the rhythm of the others.”

Mimi scrambled over, lunch forgotten. “You can hear that?”

“Well yeah, it’s pretty obvious when you listen for it,” I said, giving him space. I watched as he clambered around, listening intently with the little ear holes in the side of his squishy head, sometimes pressing between the pipes in a way someone with solid bones could never manage. There was a reason Strongarms made good mechanics.

But apparently not all the reasons.

“I have no idea what you’re hearing,” Mimi declared, pulling back out.

“It’s this one,” I repeated. “The other ones are going whoosh-whirr-wheet, but this one gets stuck on the whirr.”

Mimi stared at me for a moment. “Stay right there,” he said, scrambling down to a bank of dials and levers. “Tell me if you hear any change. The third one, right?”

“Yeah.” I listened from close to the pipes while he adjusted things down at the bottom. Gradually, the rhythm shifted. “Oh, it’s getting better!”

“See if you can tell me when it matches,” Mimi said.

“Almost there,” I said. “It’s making the wheet noise now, just at the wrong time.” I nodded along, drumming on the air to the rhythm of the other pipes while Pipe Number Three gradually synched up. “Wait, too far,” I told Mimi. “It’s too early now.”

Muttering something indistinct, Mimi adjusted more dials.

“There! You got it!” I stood back, grinning.

“You’re sure?” Mimi asked from the console.

“Yeah, it’s a perfect match now. Ready to dance to.” I shimmied in place, appreciating the beat and not particularly caring if it wasn’t dignified.

“I’ll run the diagnostic again,” Mimi said as he tentacle-walked over to a different control panel. “If that fixed it, I will be amazed.”

I danced among the tools for the few seconds it took to run the diagnostic.

“Welp,” Mimi said. “It’s official. I’m amazed.”

“Did we fix it?” I asked, standing up with a grin.

“It appears that we did,” he said. Waving his tentacles in a baffled sort of way, he looked from me to the panel. “Thanks. You’re useful to have around.”

“And you’re welcome!” I replied. “Happy to help. Now you can finish your lunch before Eggskin starts griping about organic maintenance.”

“We can’t have that, now can we?” Mimi said. “Maybe I’ll eat somewhere quieter, and put the sound baffles back in place afterward.”

“Great idea,” I agreed. “As catchy as this music is, it’s a bit loud for lunch.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character in this book. More to come!

#my writing #the Token Human #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #haso #hfy #eiad #rhythm #music #of a sort #saving the day in small ways

[manako-no-yami]

harvey: caring is weak

mike: but what if i were better at caring than you

harvey: why would anyone want to be better at something that makes u weak. caring isnt a skill

mike: yes it is.

harvey: no it isnt

mike: *flutters his big blue eyes* r u sure about that

harvey: *sweating* …yes?

mike: but if it were, i'd be better at caring than you

harvey: not true. ill show YOU who's better at caring *torpedoes his entire life in the process*

mike: awww. 💙

harvey: ...and i don't even regret it

#this is basically how i see their relationship in a nutshell #marvey #harvey specter #mike ross #suits #suits usa #clod not lefting but #incorrect quotes #of a sort #marvey discord shenanigans

[thatswhatsushesaid]

yesterday i shared this set of screencaps of meng yao and the world’s shittiest nie sect officer with a canon-blind friend who promptly lost her shit over that flipped switch expression on meng yao’s face

and afterwards i was trying to explain how fucking absurd meng yao’s post-murder last minute scramble to explain himself was in cql and ultimately just made some visual aids from my massive arsenal of screencaps

“nailed it”

this whole show is a hot mess but this moment will never not be comedy gold

#mdzs #mdzs shitposting #of a sort #cql #the untamed #meng yao #nie mingjue #what the fuck meng yao???

[egophiliac]

GRIMS COMING!!! You gonna pull for him??👀👀

I'm gonna try, but...

I have mere hours to decide if I want to make one last attempt at Malleus or save a few to try for Grim...and this is all before the new event reveal on the 16th. truly the most difficult choice of our modern times. the gacha is getting its revenge for all of my Lilias.

#art #of a sort #twisted wonderland #glorious masquerade #can't believe that malleus still won't come home two years in a row #okay. okay. so we'll get a free 10 pull for grim and then if i use ALL my keys and gems that'll get me up to...ugh. numbers. 91? #literally 9 short of a guaranteed summon. oh my god. #curse you trey why is your birthday just too late to get me another 10 set when i need it #i was really trying to ration but i still spent too many of my hoarded keys failing to get masqeralleus #my hubris... #and this is assuming that i won't even want any of the 2023 halloween ssrs which is. unlikely. #may we all get ridiculously lucky and get the fancy ssr on our first pull using the free event keys #it can happen if we all BELIEVE #(sobs)

[tj-dragonblade]

hello hello, how about #6 for the spotify wrapped 👀

6 - Arwen's Vigil by The Piano Guys This is an instrumental piece evoking steadfast hope and sweeping passions, and I think it calls for a Knight!Hob AU. Visually, Hob will be a tidied-up version of 1389 and Dream will have Tom's Hollow Crown look.

(Synopsis bled into scene-drafting oops)

Dream, the ruler of wherever, has sent his best men on a dangerous quest of some sort. Including his unspoken favorite, his most faithful, the man who holds his heart, the man who will never know it. Dream cannot abuse his station; he is the king; Hob is his knight. They cannot be together. But nothing can stop him holding vigil each night as he waits for news, his thoughts circling on Hob, praying for his safe return.

The news when it comes is bittersweet; the quest was successful but at great price. Only three of the ten men remain to return home; the message does not tell who. Dream paces endlessly, frets endlessly, heart perpetually in his throat as he grapples with the not-knowing, the fear that his Hob has perished.

When the men return they are only two; the third fell to bandits on the road and the second is gravely injured. The first, Dream sees with a relief that threatens to overwhelm him, is his Hob.

The injured man is seen to, rushed to the medics; Hob is tired and dirty but unharmed, and Dream calls for a bath to be drawn in his private quarters. He will tend to Hob himself, with the viable excuse of debriefing him re: the quest.

So before long we wind up with Hob dozing quietly in the warm bath in Dream's quarters, Dream watching over him, letting him doze and making sure he doesn't slip underwater, keeping the fire roaring, etc. Ooh, ooh, there should be a hair washing scene first, Dream washing Hob's chest and shoulders and beard for him, gentle and intimate and Hob protesting his king serving him this way and Dream shushing him with something like 'My noble steadfast Hob, my most loyal and enduring friend (dangerous, so daring to admit aloud he considers him thus), let me take care of you for once' and so Hob quiets, and lets him, and Dream moves on to the proper hair washing and by the time he's finished Hob is drifting asleep.

So Dream lets him sleep, keeps watch, tends the fire etc, and after a bit he's sitting on a chair by the tub lost in thought when there's a wet touch to his hand and he looks up to find Hob's warm brown eyes fixed steadfastly on him.

"My liege," Hob says softly, gaze unwavering, and brings Dream's hand to his lips, lets them graze over the knuckles.

Dream sucks in a breath, shaken, filled with such ardent longing that he fears to speak, lest he give himself away. But Hob is still speaking.

"I have faced death many times, but none more certainly than this last."

"Hob—"

"And I'm alright with that." He sits up, leans forward, still holding Dream's hand. "I will go where you send me; I will serve you to my last breath and die gladly if it means you're safe. But having faced that possibility so starkly—" he turns Dream's hand, presses his lips soft to the cup of Dream's palm "—I have realized. There are things I do not wish to take to my grave." He arches Dream's hand back gently, places a softly-heartfelt kiss to the inside of his wrist, lifts his eyes back to Dream's.

"My lord Dream. It is not simply my sword and my service which are pledged to you, but my heart as well."

Dream cannot help the gasp that escapes him; neither can he manage words, which is just as well as Hob is still speaking.

"I know we can never be, and I do not expect any return of my feelings. I am happy to love you silently from afar, as I always have. This—" his lips brush the pulse beating furiously in Dream's wrist "—is more than enough, your care and consideration of me here, they are more than enough. If I am to die in some future endeavor, then I will die at peace knowing you are aware that you were loved by me. And that is enough."

"You dare." Dream finds his voice at last, though it trembles terribly. "You. Dare. To speak so carelessly of dying, when I have spent days sick with worry of your welfare, when I have not slept for fear I had lost you this time, when I have only just had those fears assuaged by your return—"

Hob is quite taken aback, but still he holds Dream's hand. "My liege—"

"Dream." The tremor in his voice matches the wavering of tears filling his vision, the way his fingers tremble in Hob's gentle hold. "You will call me Dream when it is only you and I, and you will not greet death so cavalierly should it come for you. You will exercise every caution, you will fight with your all to return to me, for I could not bear to lose you, not now, when you tell me that the heart I so long for is pledged to me in truth, I could not bear it—"

He is cut off by the soft touch of Hob's fingers to his lips, wet and wrinkled from the bath water, beseeching his silence. He meets Hob's eyes, tears spilling over soundlessly, and finds Hob's gaze wide, wondering, warm and hopeful and dark enough to drown in; when Hob's fingertips move gently from his lips to touch his tears, to reverently stroke a single droplet away, Dream shivers. And when Hob releases his hand, moves closer, when both of Hob's hands are gently framing his face, when Hob is gazing up at him with naked adoration, Dream knows he is lost. He does not fight the way Hob leans up and draws him down; he cannot fight his own desires any longer and he cannot deny this man any wish.

The kiss is tentative, soft, Hob's lips sliding across his, between, pressing gently until Dream gasps—

And Hob draws back, eyes searching Dream's, seeking permission, confirmation that his forwardness is welcome, and Dream can think of no better assurance than to kiss him again.

He lunges forward, mouth finding Hob's unerringly, and it is Hob this time who gasps, whereupon Dream brings his tongue into the kiss and then Hob moans. Dream touches him, as he has longed to do for years, strokes through his wet beard and wet hair, touches the wet curves of his shoulders and the glorious mat of wet hair on his chest, heedless of the drag of his own sleeves in the bathwater.

"My lord Dream—" Hob barely pulls away, lips brushing Dream's as he speaks.

"Not here," Dream interrupts. "Never here, think me not your lord when we are alone, I beg—let me be just a man, let me be but the one who would hold your heart dear and trust that you hold mine the same—"

"Dream," Hob says then, tremulous, wondering, and the blossoming familiarity of Dream's unadorned name on Hob's lips has him swooning back into a kiss.

It quickly grows desperately impassioned, fierce and frantic as emotions rise and inhibitions fall in their wake. Hob flounders about in the tub and stands, bringing Dream up with him, pulling Dream to him and picking him up, cradling Dream bridal-style as he steps out of the tub, naked and streaming wet and still kissing his king. Dream clings around his neck, lost in the ardent warmth of Hob's mouth, uncaring of how Hob's wet hirsute body makes an absolute ruin of his clothing.

He will not be wearing it much longer, regardless.

So I guess this will be going in the wip pile but there is no telling if or when I'll get back to it. The rest will just be smut; Hob carries Dream over to the furs spread on the stone floor in front of the fire, lays him down, strips him bare of his wet robes with reverence, tenderly fingers him open and then makes love to him over and over, ardent and adoring and attentive until tears of joy and pleasure are streaming from Dream's eyes, until his heart and body sing with the love Hob bears him, the love he bears Hob in turn. Or something equally purple-prosed and sappy. This will be smut to rot your teeth on I assure you.

Inevitably this art and the third one here ended up rotating in my mind even if they don't quite apply to what I scribbled down - they convey the same kind of mood.

Spotify Wrapped Askmeme Post

#Thank you Vi ❤️ #askmemes #TJs Fics #of a sort #SpotifyWrapped asks #Dreamling #Sandman

[jewish-skitter]

Didn’t want to derail on a post about Sundancer, but this quote:

is also pretty notable from a Tattletale perspective. Despite the fact Sundancer hasn’t exactly gone out of her way to be empathetic to the Undersiders and that she stood by even when she found out about Dinah and might very well have stood by if the same thing happened to Tattletale herself, Tattletale is choosing to be kind and reassure her. It’s not entirely selfless— things are easier in Brockton Bay if all the Travelers leave — but there are crueler ways to get her to go.

There’s some parallels there, Sundancer going so far to save someone who’s already dead. A best friend she loves past the point of sense.

Also interesting to me— Sundancer is incredibly hypocritical about Taylor, being disgusted by her brutality in carving out eyes when Sundancer has definitely already killed people by that point and has stood by while worse things have happened. Sundancer ~doesn’t~ turn against Coil (from what I remember, though it’s been a while), even though she feels bad about Dinah. She’s willing to use Dinah and Tattletale’s knowledge if it means fixing Noelle. I almost want to draw comparisons to how Taylor is disgusted by Alec despite/because of their similarities. The biggest difference being that Alec is more upfront about being a bit of a bastard than Taylor is, and Taylor is more upfront about it than Marissa is.

I need to reread some more Traveler-Undersider scenes, but Coil is in most of them. Ugh.

#meta #of a sort

[snakebites-and-ink]

CW: Pet whump, referenced kidnapping, captivity, conditioned whumpee

Whumper stretched and glanced at their clock. It was probably time to check on their freshly-caught pet. They headed to the room their new pet, Whumpee, was in, and opened the door only to be greeted with furious yelling and the jingling of chains. Clearly Whumpee was not happy with their new arrangement.

Whumper walked into the room and shut the door behind them. “Hello there.”

With a small growl, Whumpee lunged towards Whumper and swept their leg out in a kick that very nearly landed.

“What do you want?” they demanded angrily as Whumper stepped just out of their reach.

Whumper smirked. They retracted Whumpee’s chain so that it was too short to stand with, and Whumpee was forced to their knees. “Nothing too extreme. I just want you to behave and obey me.”

Whumpee struggled against the chain uselessly. Whumper walked closer, feeling fairly safe from attack now. “What—? What are you going to do with me? Why am I even here?”

Whumper smiled. Someone was asking all the right questions. “I’m going to keep you for myself, dear. You’re here because this is your new home. You are my pet.”

Whumpee paused. Their eyes went wide. “You mean you’ve adopted me?” they asked.

“That’s right,” Whumper confirmed.

“Oh, thank you, sir, thank you! I won’t disappoint you,” Whumpee said, nuzzling Whumper’s leg affectionately.

Whumper hesitated, dumbfounded. They gently tipped Whumpee’s face up to look at their own. “Are you…already trained?”

“Yes sir, I know my place,” Whumpee said intently.

“Oh?” Whumper responded. “Then why were you acting so feral just a minute ago?”

“I didn’t know you were adopting me! I thought I’d been kidnapped, and I had to fight my captors like a person to have a chance at getting out. I can be good, sir, I promise!” They looked up at Whumper with pleading eyes.

“And why were you going about the world without an owner when I found you? Living your life like you thought you were a person?”

Whumpee averted their gaze, not looking like they’d been caught faking, but like they actually were sad. “After I was taken from my first owner, no one wanted to have me as their pet. They all said I was a human. No one else took care of me, so I had to take care of myself.”

Whumper lowered themself to Whumpee’s level. They cupped Whumpee’s cheek gently, and noticed that they automatically tilted their head slightly into Whumper’s hand. 

“Oh, I bet that was hard, wasn’t it?” They kept their tone soft and sympathetic, but inwardly Whumper was ecstatic. Whumpee didn’t even want to be free.

Whumpee nodded, face rubbing against Whumper’s hand as they did so.

“Don’t worry. Now that you’re mine, I’ll take care of everything for you. You won’t have to work another day in your life to have nourishing food and a roof over your head, so long as you don’t do anything too foolish like running away.”

Whumpee dove towards Whumper and hugged them fiercely. “Thank you thank you sir, thank you, you’re so nice I need it—”

Whumper was delighted. Whumpee was so so grateful, practically loved Whumper already for taking them. And here Whumper had been expecting to be hated and resisted for a couple weeks at least. They pulled Whumpee back enough to see their face. Were those tears? Aw, they were! Whumper forced their instinctive grin to emerge as something warm and soft instead. If Whumpee thought they were nice and caring for doing this, Whumper wasn’t planning to disabuse them of that notion as long as their behavior stayed good enough. “Shh, it’s alright, dear pet, relax. You’ll never have to worry about anything again.”

Whumper hugged back, holding Whumpee close. They felt so small and sweet in Whumper’s arms. Whumpee obediently quieted their rambling and let go of a portion of the desperate tension in their body. With Whumpee’s face tucked safely out of view against Whumper’s chest, Whumper allowed their wide grin to finally appear. This was going to work out wonderfully.

#I may have used the placeholder name Whumper but really they’re more of a Carewhumper. At least with this particular Whumpee. #They wouldn’t be so gentle with someone less conditioned tho… #whump #original fic #whumpblr #writing #whump writing #whumper pov #pet whump #(not institutionalized) #conditioned whumpee #recapture #of a sort #my posts #my writing

[riality-check]

"You're weird."

Kas looks down at Eddie. Tilts his head. Wonders if he was always like this, curious instead of afraid.

"You from the woods? Mama says I shouldn't go there because there's weird shit in the woods," Eddie says, still staring up at Kas's face, craning his little nine-year-old neck as far back as it will go to do so.

Kas nods. It wasn't hard to find Eddie at this time. First move across states. He remembers it like yesterday. He loved that little house they had at the edge of the woods, on the other side of the holler from everyone else.

Eddie loved it, that is.

Kas finds it in himself to speak. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Eddie doesn't hesitate. "Around."

Kas's heart, if it weren't already unbeating, would have stopped in his chest.

"Why?" he asks.

Eddie shrugs. "I don't like it when they disappear. So I'd want to be around."

Kas notices for the first time that they are alone in the house, in the living room with the mismatched furniture and the empty TV stand and the phone that's just there for show because they couldn't pay the bill.

It's after dark, and they are alone in the house.

"I think everything else can come after. I can't be a rockstar or a writer or a good person if I'm not there in the first place."

Kas turns to leave.

"You goin' back to the woods, sir?"

He nods.

"Be careful," Eddie says, and he goes back to reading his comic book.

Kas spots the title. X-Men.

Eddie always did love his outcasts.

#once again from discord #ria writes #eddie munson #kas eddie munson #appalachian eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #st #st ficlet #time travel #of a sort