#Mike’s scatter-brained thoughts

[the-vengefulspirit]

Sometimes I see characterization or like a hc someone has for one of my kins and itll be so painfully accurate it hurts. Like, yes, you are correct. I was constantly covered in bandaids because I was a clumsy dumbass and yes Liz would purposefully have Mom buy the colorful character bandaids just because she wanted to be an ass and knew I was the one who got injured the most so just imagine this punk ass, mean spirited mullet having emo kid with a foxy mask covered in colorful carebears and my little pony bandaids. - Mike

[felassan]

David Gaider on Shale, under a cut for length:

"Oops! I realized I'd moved on from DAO but missed one of the companions I'd written. Which checks out, honestly, because I almost didn't write Shale and, even after I'd written her, she almost didn't happen anyhow. Then she did. Prepare yourself for... PIGEON QUEST. 🦤 So... I'm wracking my brain, but I don't recall how Shale began. I have this vague memory of us wanting a "weird" party member who didn't conform to the normal classes (this was back when Dog didn't need to be in the party), and I think my mind drifted to an old indie comic character named Concrete."

"Now, your reaction to that is probably "who?" That's OK. When I explain that HK-47 in KotOR was inspired by an old Canadian TV show called the Littlest Hobo I get the same perplexed response. 😅 In short: Concrete was just a regular dude. Who happened to also be a walking hulk of rock. Cue hi-jinx. The problem here is I don't remember whether the Concrete thing was part of the original inspiration or something I thought of at the point when I started writing the character. Because I didn't, at first. That was later. Shale was initially taken on by Jay Turner, then one of our junior writers. Jay had an idea to make Shale more of a robot, an emotionless automoton killer... think HK-47, but without the layer of sarcasm. I was leery, and told Jay he'd have to be very careful. "Emotionless" can very quickly turn into "boring", after all, unless you're VERY careful. But Jay was determined. Sigh. This was a fail on my part, as his lead. There's been a couple of times in my career when I've let a junior convince me with their enthusiasm to take on something my experience said they shouldn't. And then watch their confidence crumble despite every effort I made to reassure them it was OK. This was one of those times. Jay, no idea if you'll read this but: I'm sorry. Even an experienced writer would have found that a daunting challenge. Tonia, my other Big Fail on a similar situation in DAI: I'm sorry. Both times, I should have known. You did your best, but I set you up to fail. 😔"

"Jay did his best, and this version of Shale was certainly interesting... but, when he was done, it was one of those peer reviews where every writer had that look of "I'm REALLY sorry to say this..." It felt flat. Jay tried numerous revisions, but the issue wasn't his ability - it was the concept. I only allowed my writers a certain number of tries before I take it away. This hearkens back to an earlier time at Bio when writers would hack away at something that wasn't working 6, 7, 8 times or more until finally their soul was dust. Mike Laidlaw can attest. Revision isn't always the answer. So I moved (a much relieved, I think) Jay onto something else, and the question arose: what do we do with Shale? Do we cut it? It was already very late. Then Shale dropped in my lap. I don't remember if it was me refusing to let it go or maybe Brent (Knowles, Creative Director) giving it to me. I suspect it was the latter, because I recall being a bit bitter about the whole thing. WHAT am I going to do with this character? At the time, they'd moved me out of the writers pit to instead be in a big office with the other leads. I had this corner desk by a window (yay) with an awful view (ugh) What was so awful about it? It looked out onto the neighbouring roof, where there was only an HVAC unit to see. In the winter, pigeons would gather around it. They pooped all over everything - there was this alcove around the access door, right? The pigeons roosted there and it was POOP FAUCET city."

"Not only that, the pigeons used the HVAC like some kind of sex den. Angry, ugly pigeon sex. The only respite was when a hawk would appear and the pigeons scattered. Then I'd get maybe a day when there was a single pigeon corpse, like an exploded ball of down, to act as a scarecrow. Good days, those. What does any of this have to do with Shale? Well, there's me, staring out the window trying desperately to think what I'm going to do. But I CAN'T stare out the window because, gross. But what else am I going to stare at while I think? It was making me furious. I hated those pigeons SO SO MUCH. And then it hit me: Shale is basically an animated statue, right? Something that pigeons are rather notorious for also gathering on? And so I wrote. I wrote like the angry, angry wind. I had zero time to do this so it was basically me vomiting all my annoyance at everything into a single character. Not that it helped much. There was a battle going on over Shale - first, as I recall, it was the art team. They were going to make every doorway in the game EXTRA HUGE because they were worried that Shale was too large and might clip. So, yes, let's alter the whole world to fix that. Good idea. 🙃 Eventually, they compromised by making Shale smaller. Sten-sized. Or Brent went Akira mode, but I don't really know. This was a battle happening above my level. Yet Shale got cut anyhow. There wasn't time to do her abilities and we were short on cinematics time. There was never enough time on DAO."

""Oh well," I thought. "That's that." I did what I could, but cut content is almost never resurrected. The idea was floated of making Shale into a DLC but I scoffed. Yeah, right! But... it happened. That's why the "almost" is there. Enough of the team liked Shale they made it happen this one time. This meant I could finish up the writing once we'd more or less wrapped DAO, and the rest of the team (cinematics, in particular, who were pressed the hardest for time) could move onto the Shale DLC once they were ready. It was supposed to come out well after release, but you know. Shenanigans. This particular shenanigan was EA deciding to sit on the finished DAO a few months in order to delay the release. Why? Again, not my level. To get closer to Christmas, maybe, or maybe for sim ship. It did mean Shale ended up being ready for release day. Unexpected confluence of events, honestly. Cue some fans getting upset that "cut content" was sold to them separately, which... fair, I guess? The alternative would have been that Shale was simply cut, period, and it just worked out this way but... yes, fair. This was back when DLC was the main beef of hardcore gamers. Oh, the good old days. Overall? I have a soft spot for Shale. She has no soft spot for anyone, being... you know... made of rock. It's why I put her in Asunder, and why she was also going to be in the - apparently now notorious for its Fenris murder - cancelled fourth DA novel. Also, if you're a pigeon fan: not sorry. 😇"

[source thread]

[moxfirefly]

Ok. I wanna ask something. It’s ok you don’t have to answer this but I wanna ask how would the Turtles be like when they are in season? Like way before their s/o came into the picture? Like their emotions and how to handle it? You can make it SFW or NSFW or both.

We love mating season in this house. This is a fun one anon thanks! So undercut cause goes without saying.

Explicit

Leo

He knows how to manage it the best during the beginning.

Get messy towards the middle.

For Leo the best way to deal with pesky spring fever is simply to overtrain and overwork his body.

Out of sight out of mind mentally.

His nose gets easily irritable with all the scents he can pick up now that go beyond his usual. So he’ll burn more incense, he’ll light more candles (softer scents that calm him)

His gaze strays. Leo knows how to keep his eyes on check whenever he sees a beautiful individual, he’s very aware that making it obvious isn’t always fun.

But man, is he fucking staring now. Notices all the intricate details about April that makes her so very beautiful. Notices how pretty the lady that works at the deli where they patrol often is, saw a guy so breathtaking he had to stop and take a second. It’s all rather annoying and it exacerbates him.

MEDITATES MORE™️

More on the angry jerk off side of the spectrum.

Raph

Oh boy is he just more stand off-ish than normal. Quicker to pick fights and really will fight if pushed.

Raph needs to blow of steam on a normal basis, while in his season? Sheesh are the Foot getting extra bones broken.

Over exercises to compensate the territorial nature that boils within him.

A lot of impure thoughts about April.

He feels awful about it too which further being the cycle full circle.

Angry, fight, fantasize, rinse, repeat.

Tries to get out of the Lair more. Sneaks out or the cold fresh air to center him.

People watches. His mind will wander. Up until now Raph believes he won’t ever have a chance with someone, so this part isn’t his favorite.

Yearns baby, this one yearns and aches.

Mikey

So. Much. More. Extra. Energy.

Much more scatter brained than usual.

Head full. Many thought.

Mikey likes to burn off his energy by skating. He’ll concentrate on tricks and enjoys the speed of zooming around on his board.

Tbh Mikey sticks to what works. Skateboarding and masturbating.

Could get rather territorial, a bit prone to picking fights. Surprisingly scary when mad.

While Mike doesn’t like being alone in general, really needs the solitude during this time.

If he flirts with April on a normal Tuesday evening, how’d you think he’s gonna be now?

Over all handles the season fairly well.

Donnie

Probably the best to handle the season out of his brothers.

Naturally because Donnie prefers to nest during this period. He naturally prefers the solitude so during this time it’s the best excuse to not have everyone on his case about it.

EATS.

The man gets pretty famished and eats more that he normally does.

Skins feels a little on fire, just about anything sets him off. Whether the instinct to fight or his need for release.

Don’s pretty creative when it comes to getting off, but man does he breakout some fun things to pass the time.

Tries to distract himself with his work.

Not proud of it but if Aprils around, he’ll smell her a lot. She’s got a comforting scent but it also kinda gets him going which doesn’t help.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Paranormal Investigator

Mike Schmidt x Reader

hey y’all I’m kinda nervy wervy about this bc I haven’t written since 2018, but I just love mikes character soooo much in the movie, n josh hutcherson got be barking like a dog. after watching the movie I had this thought that I just had to get out of my brain. so give me grace on any oddities or mistakes and lemme know what to improve kiss kiss hope you enjoy

Summary: you get caught breaking into Freddy’s by the night guard as he cleans up the mess from the last break in, you both come up with a deal where you can get spooky footage of Freddy’s, while Mike monitors and attempts to contact Garrett.

Warnings: no Vanessa (love her but can’t fit er in), movie spoilers, female reader, doesn’t follow movie plot, written on mobile yikes, and also I have no idea where to go with it could be a one/two part thing or more. Possible illusions to sex, and mature themes.

———

———

“So you’re telling me, you expected to be breaking in with people who are tryna get me fired? Uh- I’m sorry, how am I supposed to believe you?” The security said absentmindedly sweeping shattered glass. Yes, you had misunderstood the instructions you overheard at Sparkys. You thought the group would break in at night, before the security’s shift, not the morning after the security shift.

“Uh, well the glass on the floor would be a good indication I’m telling the truth.” The security gave you a tired look pausing his sweeping. “I meant about my aunt… uh, anyways, look I have my sister here, I’ve got work to do, you can’t be running around like a crazy person.”

“Oh. Your sister’s your coworker?”

“No, uh, just, I’ve got a lot on my plate for tonight, I won’t contact the cops if you just get out.” He stuttered, words fumbling out of his mouth quickly. The guard found himself battling between confidence and embarrassment, he couldn’t get a clear glimpse of you yet in the dim light but he already knew from what he could see of you that he’d surely be head over heels and make himself look a fool.

“Please? Just let me take a look around, I’ll help you clean this mess, and after you can go off back to work while I do a quick scan of the place. I promise I’ll be out of your hair. I just want some footage.” You begged snapping him out of his thoughts, your eyes bright, glossy and blinking hopefully at him.

Sighing, he rubbed his free hand down his face, eyes panning around the room. Glass still shattered everywhere, things scattered, tables turned, if he wanted to get back to his dream he’d need to be quick with cleaning. “Fine, you’ll help me clean then you’ll do your thing and leave, yeah?” With a single confident nod from you it was decided.

The main area was cleaned fairly quickly, small talk here and there, learning his name was Mike and Abby, his little sister, had to come with him because his babysitter never got back to him. Now in the kitchen Mike looked over to you as you picked up empty scattered pizza boxes. “What exactly are you recording for?”

Standing with empty boxes in hand you looked at Mike and for a minute or so you both simply looked at each other. “Well, I’m kinda into the ghostly stuff, and y’know about the murders.” Mike's brow perked curiously at that, muttering the word ‘murders’ back to himself. “What happened?”

You shrugged, leaning against the metal kitchen counter watching as Mikes eyes followed your every move intensely. “Kids disappeared, cops never found them and it was ruled as a homicide, soon after there were complaints about a rotting smell coming from the animatronics. Public opinion, or rather, the rumour is the kids' corpses are in the suits, and they haunt the joint now.”

Mike opened his mouth to respond but before he could a child’s shriek rang through the pizzaria echoing off the walls. He quickly perked up, fear evident on his face, and within seconds he was shouting his sister's name while sprinting off.

You pulled yourself away from the counter as fast as you could and followed Mike in a panic. You caught up to Mike in the main area stopping your footing just a few steps behind him. The two of you stared astonished for a moment at the animatronics surrounding Abby. Freddy stepped away first, walking menacingly towards the two adults. Thinking fast Mike grabbed a chair in defence, while Freddy’s figure shadowing over both Mike and yourself. Thankfully Abby giggled and skipping her way over to Freddy, Mike and you. “They where tickling me so much, I could barely breathe! Mike this is Freddy, my friend! Freddy this is my brother, Mike!”

Mike looked amazed at his sister, the eased demeanour, the smile on her face, she hadn’t looked like this at home in years but in front of seven foot sentient animatronics, she is? Freddy sized up Mike who still held the chair in front of him, you huddled safely behind him..

“What the hells happening?” You asked wide eyed looking around Mike’s shoulder at his face Mike's mouth pulled tightly and released; a mouth shrug in response. Turning slightly to each side he put down the chair and shouted: “This better be a prank, right, there being controlled somewhere in the back? Okay! You got us, you can come out now!” After moments of silence, it was evident nobody was coming. “Okay, Abby let’s go we’re leaving.” Mike rushed, waving Abby forward towards him, and away from the machines.

The animatronics all just stood there, watching as Abby whined to stay, explaining what they liked, as well as how fun they were. To show the two how much they like drawings she scribbled up a heart picture for Bonnie, watching as the bunny took it passively. Neither Mike, nor YN we’re having anything to do with the animatronics though, and luckily it took no longer. Abby waved, and said her goodbye as Mike grabbed both her hand and yours and dragged the two of you off to the exit.

Once outside, you and Abby stood at his car while he ran back in to grab Abby’s things. “What’s your name again?” Abby questioned out of the blue, rocking back and forth on her heels and toes. “YN, I was here for a recording when I met Mike.” YN explained, half there half rethinking what happened. “Like a movie?”

You nodded but couldn’t elaborate as Mike interrupted, stepping beside the two of you. “Okay Abs it’s best if we get home and get you tucked in, YN, will you be, uh, okay?” Mike looked around nervously, he seemed suddenly embarrassed again, this time you could tell.

Scanning the parking lot Mike took note of his car being the only one in the parking lot. “Do you drive?” He asked, now it was your turn to be embarrassed and you shrunk slightly at the question, making Abby to giggle. Mike quickly hushed her and asked her to put her stuff in the trunk and buckle herself in while the two spoke. “No, I take the bus with my bike, then I bike it the rest of the way.” Mike nodded biting the inside of his cheek, he was prone to stupidity at times making quick decisions but this was probably gonna take the cake.

“Listen, if you watch Abby tonight, babysit, i-I’ll give you free range in the pizzaria for a few hours. To record. Of course. And drive you there and back…” YN’s eyebrows shot up, suddenly thinking of every possible outcome being able to catch these animatronics walking without technical reasoning could really kick start something for her. Meanwhile Mike was anxious to get back as fast as possible to dream again, although he felt slightly selfish for leaving his sister with a stranger. Mike eyed the woman again, watching as she processing things in her own mind. She seemed too pretty, to be criminal, maybe Mike had finally lost it.

“You got yourself a deal, boss.” You smirked, voice scaring Mike out of his mind. He quickly nodded, smiling slightly eyes darting back and forth between the concrete and you. The two hopped into the car after attaching your bike to the back. “Abby, YN is gonna watch you tonight, at home. Okay? I gotta get back to work.” Abby awed, whined, and crossed her arms, pulling the biggest most childish scowl she could muster. You just smiled at her antics while Mike pulled out of the parking lot, and down the road.

[red-bat-arse]

I Got a Problem 🎸🎶🎻

AO3

Chapter One/Two

Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, famous for bringing rock to new heights with his band Hellfire, listens to everything but Country. 'King' Steve Harrington, leading light of the new generation of traditional Country artists, has a few thoughts about that.

=<+>=

Eddie made himself go into the studio, even though he felt sick to his stomach at the idea of another fruitless session. He'd just feel worse if he stayed home -he'd lay in bed all day with his brain running in circles about getting into his office and working, and he'd keep thinking about it until the sun went from risen to set and he fell back asleep, exhausted from doing fuck all.

So he pulled into the lot and grabbed his traveller thermos to keep him going until someone made him take a break for lunch, and he trudged inside, waving over at Claudia as he passed reception. She looked extra busy, on the phone and typing at the same time, so he didn't stop until the elevator brought him upstairs and he pushed into the lounge room, beelining straight for the coffee machine.

It was weirdly busy in the halls for this early. Sure they were old school at Prison Break and it was an unspoken rule that at least half of everyone's work should be done in house, but the kids usually left it to the afternoon and Wayne preferred his late nights where he could chat with Hop and the guards as long as he liked. Granted, Eddie hadn't done much but hole up in a recording booth these last few months, but he was usually pretty solid on his friends' schedules.

Then the drawl made it to his ears, and he realized one crucial point he'd failed to take into account -country artists were morning people.

"Morning, Munson," was called over, and when he glanced in their direction it was... well, he was pretty sure he knew the kid, the younger of Mama Byers' two sons. The girls looked familiar from the party last week, but otherwise he was drawing a blank.

"Uh, hey," he raised a hand, not really in the mood to socialize. His mind kept drifting back to the unfinished songs on his computer and the sound techs he kept having to put off talking to about production ideas. But he already dug his grave with Harrington, he supposed he should play nice with some of the rest of them; while the pot was filling he meandered over and glanced down at the papers scattered on the table. "Album art?"

The kid -Bill? Will? Yeah, Will -nodded, smiling shyly. "I said I'd do some sketches up for Mike's EP -uh, we got to talking at the party," he ducked his head, and Eddie pulled a nearby one over to inspect it. It kind of reminded him of his classic D&D manuals, and he guessed it'd suit the medieval imagery Mike favoured. "I'm not planning on recording anything right now, so it'll keep me busy. I really liked the painting you chose for The Wrong Road -I heard you and Grant did it yourselves?"

Another country boy who knew his work, would wonders never cease? "Yeah, Grant and I workshopped it. I'm sure I've got the sketches around if you ever wanna see them," he offered, and Will nodded quick. "And you ladies are...?"

A prim little brunette in a ruffled shirt and a blonde who would've looked like a cheerleader if she wasn't wearing an oversized flannel and one of the biggest belt buckles he'd ever seen. "Chrissy Cunningham, charmed," the blonde said with a giggle and an exaggerated accent, holding up her hand like a lady in a period drama. When Eddie went to take it she shifted smoothly into a firm handshake. "And this's Nancy Wheeler. It's real nice to be at a good label finally, thanks for putting up with the tight quarters on such short notice."

"It's no problem," Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, one eye on the coffee machine. He could almost feel the shadow of an idea for a chord coming on, if he could just get his joe and go. "Tiger really as shitty as they say?"

"Whatever you've heard, it was worse," Nancy said, crossing her arms. "Thank god Steve finally got to everyone. I was really to shoot my way out."

"Nancy also shoots pistol competitively," Will piped up helpfully.

"It was... restrictive," Chrissy said with the air of someone holding themselves back, especially with the way Nancy snorted derisively. "Especially to us girls. Purity rings, attending church, that sort of thing -Steve was the one who convinced us we could walk away, and hired a lawyer so we could take our work with us. Even though he-"

"We're very glad to be at Prison Break," Will interrupted, nodding up at Eddie. "Especially me and Jonathan, because Chief Hopper brought Mom in with such a good contract, we don't all have to work extra. We can just focus on the music, or my art, or anything."

"And once we're done with the new album, Hopper said we're free to record solo work. Never would've gotten that from Tiger," Nancy smiled, satisfied, and Eddie suddenly recalled she was one of the Harrington quartet. Her and the elder brother Byers and one other girl. "Is anyone on your team good with percussion?"

Eddie had exactly zero interest in discussing how percussion could work into a good old square dance, or whatever. Luckily he was saved from more talking by the shrill beep of the coffee machine, and he waved himself off with a half promise to ask if Grant was still dabbling in trumpet as of late.

As he filled the thermos up, he turned over what 'worse than you've heard' could mean. He knew he'd been lucky in both labels he'd signed with over his career, thanks to Wayne, but everyone heard the horror stories eventually.

Tiger Studios had always flown under the radar, a bigger record label on the other side of the city from Prison Break that catered exclusively to Country singers in much the same way PB used to cater to hard rock. Honestly, Eddie was a little behind the times, since even before the accident he'd been focused on the album, the tour, and helping plan Jeff's impending nuptials.

Of course, he heard the gossip the past few weeks. One artist dropping their label was rare, let alone ten at once like happened at Tiger. Harrington's lawyer must be fucking amazing to pull that shit off, although there were rumours of the execs only backing off because of some pretty hefty accusations flung their way. The kind of shit that made Eddie thank god for Wayne and Hopper whenever he thought about it too hard.

And in the middle of it all, or at the helm, was 'King' Steve Harrington, risen star of Country at large. Most of the references went over his head, but when someone was called a modern day Garth Brooks, well, that wasn't a light title to bear, even Eddie could say that. It'd be the metal equivalent of a new Ozzy Osbourne -it could happen, but increasingly unlikely as time went on. Harrington, who apparently convinced all the others to leave, and ensured they actually could -that was closing in on Dio territory if he really got away with it without a hitch.

He wasn't too sure if he actually had, though. He caught Chrissy's little slip, before Will broke in; but in the end, it wasn't any of his business. Harrington was here now, signed with them all neat and legal-like, so he'd obviously fought his own battle and come out the victor. The details would probably reach him eventually.

For now, he twisted the lid on his coffee and turned to go, grabbing a banana when his stomach twinged in protest. As he left, Mike and El came in with two more of the country club, and all four called after him their good mornings, more chipper than he was used to so early.

Eddie waved over his shoulder, already wanting to just go home and sleep. He shifted his thermos to his better hand and trudged up to his usual booth anyway. He couldn't keep the band on hiatus forever.

*

The trend continued through the next while; every time Eddie walked in, no matter what time of day or which floor he was on, the studio seemed more bustling and lively than ever before. Part of it was just that an extra ten people, and a few more security and special technicians and the like, just meant it was natural. But, grudging as he had to admit, the country club were all around just happy to have a space to work on their music and weren't shy about interacting with everyone. Even Eddie, who was probably the least approachable besides Hopper and in a perpetual bad mood besides, he found himself getting pulled into little talks with them on his brief forays into the lounge -although it was mainly Chrissy, who was the most personable of the whole lot.

It probably helped that she smoked about as much as he did, and they swapped a few tips between them to break the ice. Or, she smoked as much as he did on a good day. Lately he was tearing his hair out over his writers block more often than not, so he was smoking nearly every night when he got home, and a bit on his lunch breaks when it really got bad. That was probably why he put his foot in his mouth the way he did, about two weeks into Prison Break's new normal.

Eddie was at the tail end of a string of bad days, and not just because of the dead end of working on the album. Monday was the five year anniversary of his old man dying in jail of a heart attack, which already put him off completely. He was on pins and needles for days, irritated at the slightest reminder and getting reminded at every turn, which sucked because even the good memories were all tinged with hurt by now. Then he cut his hand open on a tin of tomatoes at home like an idiot, which was probably the worst because it meant he couldn't even write when the rare burst of inspiration hit him. He didn't need stitches, but it was a close thing.

After that, it all snowballed. He was frustrated, so he tried to work it out on his laptop -he couldn't get the lyrics to work, so he fiddled with the arrangements he'd written down -when he couldn't visualize how the sounds would mesh, he stomped down to one of the empty booths to play previous recordings back until they poured out of his ears and he was ready to scream. All that, so when lunch or his inevitable breaking point came by he was first out to the courtyard to light up and try to smoke the stress away.

Usually, at work, it was just cigarettes. Today, Eddie sucked down half a joint and the sandwich he brought from home and then went up to claim a booth.

Today, though, his usual booth was occupied. Today, he came into the observation area to see Steve Harrington and the elder brother Byers sitting inside, no sound techs or anything around, picking on their guitars and bickering back and forth about lyrics and timing for the fiddle to come in on the chorus.

And the fucking song was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

"I don't blame this brewski for sweatin' like it's guilty of something," Harrington sung jauntily, hamming it up for Byers, who rolled his eyes but obliged with picking out a tune. Eddie had stopped dead when he realized they were working, if you could call a song apparently about feeling bad for drinking a 12 ounce on the water work, and watched with his blood boiling as Harrington sketched out a whole song in a few minutes.

He found himself horribly jealous, not something he often had to deal with, at the ease with which it seemed to come to Harrington. Sure, it wasn't exactly fucking Mob Rules being written in there but it was leaps and bounds more than Eddie was accomplishing at the moment, and he clenched his fists as the pair inside busted up laughing at their own silly song.

Harrington even broke out a stupid, embarrassing Elvis impression for the end of one of the last choruses, which Byers suggested they leave in. Like they were completely fucking around with this in one of Prison Break's good recording rooms, completely unaware that there were other people who wanted to use it to work on serious projects. Not on three chord nonsense songs that talked about the fish not biting at the fucking lake.

Eddie didn't know how long he stood there fuming but unable to make himself interrupt, but it must have been a good while because when Byers pushed open the connecting door and saw him, his knees were sore when he unlocked them.

"Uh, hey man, didn't notice you," Byers said awkwardly, one eyebrow raised at whatever expression was on Eddie's face right now. He didn't dwell on it, just looked back at Harrington as if Eddie wasn't even there. "You good with me taking off early?"

"Yeah, man, go get Baby Byers," Harrington waved him off, flashing those pearly whites again. Bigger Byers nodded, and kind of skirted around Eddie as best he could, his guitar on his back -the door to the hall swung shut with a click, leaving him alone with Harrington.

The other man stood up and stretched, no less put together here than at the party a few weeks back. This time it was a little polo ensemble, brown and cream to match the boots again, a big blue buckle on the belt to go with the blue jeans on his ass. That ticked Eddie off too.

"What's up with you, Munson?" Harrington asked, barely glancing his way as he packed up his songbook. "Did you finally figure out your hair needs conditioner instead of twelve in one?"

"Ha. Funny," Eddie sneered, making Harrington actually look at him. He could feel the frustration from hell week bubbling over, eager for an easy target he already didn't like. "Don't you get tired of singing that shit? Brewskis, Harrington? You've got to be embarrassed."

Harrington straightened up, one hand on his belt, the other with a few loose papers held firmly in front of him. He leveled Eddie with an almost bored look, huffing once like he didn't have a care in the world, like Eddie was the weird one here.

"Beer on the lake, fish in the water, might as well put a truck and a pretty girl in there, get a bingo card," Eddie went on, even more irritated at the non-reaction. "What, not enough songs on the album about drinking already?"

"No, man, it's just a fun one," Harrington said, shoulders shrugging. "It's not that serious."

"It's a waste of time is what it is," Eddie threw up his hands, the first big movement since he'd walked in, and oh, god, ow. "You could actually sing about something important, y'know."

Finally that seemed to make Harrington twitch. "Y'know, Munson, you're being pretty judgey right now. You don't know what is or isn't important to me."

"You're gonna tell me a song about demolishing a pack of crap beer by a lake is important to you," Eddie said, stung by the reprimand, if only because Harrington was right. He was kind of losing his grip on why he was even in here, why he'd even come in today when he felt so bad. "Look me in the eyes and say that. Go on!"

Eddie half expected Harrington's expression to go steely, kind of like when he'd been interrupted by Murray at the party.

Instead, Harrington cracked a smile and shrugged again. He dropped his notebook in his messenger bag and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at Eddie up and down, inspecting him.

"Does it have to be without laughing? Cause I don't think I can make it," he crossed his arms and pursed his lips, a little furrow appearing in his forehead. "Are you okay, Munson? You don't look so good."

"I'm fucking fine," Eddie grit out.

"Alright," Harrington held up his hands. "Then, no, a song about a pack of beer ain't that important. But I still think you're being harsh. I get you don't like my music, but you don't have to go out of your way to antagonize me, man."

"I'm trying to be helpful, man. I don't want you laughed off stage when you break out your cringey little Elvis bit," Fuck, why couldn't he just stop? Not everything that reminded him had to be fucking attacked, but now with Harrington actively engaging him, it was almost like he'd passed the point of no return. "If I'm thinking it, so are other people."

Harrington rolled his eyes hard. "And if everyone told me to jump off a bridge, I'd say sure, which one! Do you hear yourself, Munson? I thought rock was supposed to be all about counterculture."

"Rock is an outlet. Sorry for caring about what I put out into the world, I guess I just don't want to embarrass my fans," he'd gotten closer to Harrington at some point, and it was weird -the way his blood was pumping, he almost felt good for the first time in who knew how long. "Or my label for that matter."

Harrington cracked. "I don't put out songs to please the fans, asshole, or any fucking label. I've got fans because they like the music I make. Sure you ain't a little confused?"

"No, I've got it. You've got low standards," Eddie smirked and relished the offence written on Harrington's stupid pretty face.

"Well, at least I can still make music," he said, finally angry, and Eddie flinched back like he'd been slapped. "You're right, Munson, I'm glad to put out a hundred songs that are corny and cringey, because at least they're genuine. How long's Hellfire been on hiatus now, seven months? You ever think the reason you can't spit out a single track anymore is because you're too wound up your own ass and stuck there, you fucking prick?"

In the ringing silence after that, Eddie's mouth dropped open and he felt his face go pale. Harrington's eyes went wide and he muttered a curse under his breath, instant regret plain as day on his face.

"God, Munson, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"You obviously fucking meant it," Eddie snarled, but it was weak, and his head was swimming. His hands were trembling at his sides, heat crawling up his neck at the realization he'd been an unwarranted asshole and brought this on himself. Just another shit day on the tail end of a shit week of a shit seven months. "Fuck this, I can't fucking think anymore. I'll stay out of your fucking hair, Harrington."

"No, wait, man, is something wrong-"

"I said I'm fucking fine!" Eddie stepped forward and shoved Harrington back when he looked about to come close, and didn't feel any better. In fact, when the guy only looked more concerned, he felt about ten times smaller, and his stomach lurched like he was going to be sick.

"Have fun with your goof off anthems, man. I've got actual music to work on."

He ignored anything else Harrington might have said and spun on his heel, out the door in two long strides and down the hall in five. He couldn't stand the idea of an enclosed elevator right now, so he pushed into the stairwell and thundered down the three flights to the ground floor, tunnel vision getting him out the back and into the parking lot in record time.

He was such a fucking idiot. Why did he do that? Why did he see Harrington and go completely off the rails like an absolute lunatic -it wasn't even his fault that country just -jesus christ, he must think he was crazy-

Eddie let out a strangled laugh and fumbled his keys to the ground, reaching down and grabbing them after a shaky minute. He probably shouldn't be driving.

He got into his car anyway, put the keys on the dashboard and sat there like a weirdo staring straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel tight enough to make his fingers ache.

Maybe Harrington was right.

Maybe every shitty thing he'd ever heard from a tabloid was right -that he was a fucking snob who took himself too seriously, and was only making music for the money. There were people who thought he didn't even like making music, and after seven months of this, how could Eddie refute them?

He didn't like it anymore. The thought made his teeth chatter and his brain shy away, but it was true. Ever since he woke up in the hospital and got his expected recovery time on a little note card, he'd dreaded picking up a guitar again. When he finally forced himself to, the chords didn't come easily anymore, and all he could hear was the echo of Jeff's horrified scream. He put it down and tried to write lyrics, but everything was too dark, or too confusing, or made Gareth's face pinch when he looked over the cue cards. He stopped being able to write them not long after.

He didn't like making music. Eddie gagged on nothing and curled in on himself, shivering even in the warm air. He hated making music! He was up his own ass about the album, and getting back on the horse for the fans, and writing these fucking asinine songs about pointless, serious topics that the charts would love and the magazines would rave over and-

Even if he did write it, he wouldn't be able to tour. It hit him like a brick that if he could barely pick up his guitar in the studio, how the hell was he supposed to walk back on stage after what happened? How the fuck was he supposed to play live with all those people watching him when he couldn't even play for himself?

Oh god, he'd never make another album-

Eddie jolted in his seat at that particular thought and fumbled for his keys again, getting them in the ignition with nausea rolling in his stomach. He couldn't think about that right now. Not here in his car where anyone could see -not five minutes after making a complete awful fool of himself and running away like a coward. He had to get home and get in bed and hide. He had to get somewhere safe to freak out.

He didn't remember the drive home, but he got there. Ben took one look at him and ushered him in, accompanying him into the elevator and taking his keys from him to open his door once they reached his floor. The doorman got him inside and tried to fuss, but Eddie loudly thanked him and asked him to go, so he did, reluctantly.

Eddie got to his bedroom, crawled under the covers, and curled himself into a ball.

Maybe he'd never make another record.

Maybe he'd be on hiatus for forever and let down all his fans and Hopper. He'd let down his band, and his uncle, and he'd disappoint his Momma, and he'd never make another album because-

-because he was scared of doing another live show and getting hurt again, and he couldn't write lyrics anymore because everything was wrong in his head, and he couldn't pick up a guitar anymore because his hand wasn't right anymore-

Because he didn't check. Because he fucked up just like always, just like he'd fucked up today by not walking out the minute he heard twangy guitar and let himself get reminded of his shit Dad and how he used to hurt him and-

-Eddie was just-

-he was just-

-so tired.

[atlas-the-idiot-2]

Helloooooo, we're the strawberry system,, here's a sorta long intro post

First, our alters! With premade intros thanks to pluralkit!

(we're a system of 11 to our knowledge but will only be putting alters that are comfortable being known here/have proper intros)

★★★

Headmates

Mike (he/they/it)

»Things to be wary of/know: hello! I'm mike, I'm the main host if the system! I'm bisexual and on the aroace spectrum as well. I like long debates and talks, I'd like to say im pretty open minded as well. I like alternative rock, watermelon bubble gum, reading, writing, and musicals!

Macey (they/it)

»Things to be wary of/know: first up! Im fluid between he and she pronouns but i always use they/it pronouns! Now actually onto me! Im a bit scatter brained at times, my thoughts are like, alllll over the place! I swear a lotttt, i make lota typos at times so sorry if i mess up lolll! I like showing off, alternative rock, fast music, thrills, horror stories/true crime, and things like that! I swear a good amount too but I'm resisting just in this intro lmaoooo! I can also be rude or ramble sometimes! I hope i get to know lots of people!

All for one (he/him)

(yes, my source is mha, yes I'm aware, no i am not my source)

»Things to be wary of/know: i have low empathy so i wouldn't go to me for help on most subjects, I mainly front on harder days for the system or boring days, I don't say much to others, i can be a bit... Protective or cold at times, no I don't excuse my sources actions though i understand if some are hesitant to interact with me

Dreamwalker (it/he/they)

»Things to be wary of/know: I only really speak to the others in the system, though I'm down for long talks or debates, I'm not very open though i suppose

Atlas (they/she/he)

»Things to be wary of/know: hello, i am Atlas, I don't talk much to anyone. You probably won't meet me unless theirs a problem going on with us or someone's causing a problem.

Jewel (she/they)

»Things to be wary of/know: hiya, i mostly hold emotions i guess? So that makes me sorta sensitive in a way, i have high empathy as well, I'm very soft spoken as well and don't speak much so please be patient with me! Um, please use tone tags, I'm also a sorta slow typer

Rozie (she/they/xe)

»Things to be wary of/know: hiiiiii, I'm the more extraverted of the bunch, you'll probably hear lotsa stuff from me! That's it i think!

★★★

Stances

Syscouse: hooooo boy. We prefer not to interact with Syscouse too much because its generally a battle field but we are supportive of endos! We generally avoid anti endos too because they're very much less welcoming and don't feel as safe around them :)

We also block freely and will block almost all anti endos that actively participate in discourse so please block me as well :))

★★★

Extra info!

System type: cephaconscious

System origins: none of your business<3

Syscovery birthday: may 7th

Asking to front: no thank you!

Nicknames: depends on the person but mostly fine!

Pet names: only if we know each other pls!

Teasing: fine, pls make it clear (/j or teasing in parentheses!)

Dms/friend request: perfectly fine!

Flirting: ehhhh, again depends on the person, generally no

★Ways to refer to us★

Yes: system, voices, collective, council, alternatives, collection, plural, choir, headmate, sysmate, system member, homies, people, others, crew

Ehh: alters, multiple, gang, tribe

No: part, piece, shard

★★★

Thats it i think lmao! Byeeee

[brionysea]

any characters specifically?? there's so many lol

ooo i was mainly thinking abt (what i call) the gang- Lucas, max, dustin, el, Mike, will etc- and possibly Nancy if that’s okay? im sorry if this is too much to ask of you and I hope you have a great day!!!!! :D

lucas

colour - green

deepest fears - ??? idk. assuming this is for a vecna fic or something, i guess play around with whatever's happened at this point in the timeline. seeing max die is a huge one, and all the "being violently targeted by insane white boys for daring to Exist While Black" is bound to have taken a toll on him (not that canon's acknowledged any of it, of course)

aesthetic - uh... basketballs. they look good on the aesthetic moodboard for him in my brain right now

max

colour - orange and/or rainbow. the first part might just be because i'm obsessed with red hair (hello, childhood obsession with the little mermaid and red-haired!paige from charmed), but max wears a LOT of rainbows

deepest fears - becoming like billy (continuing the cycle of violence) and that her friends (and mother) think she deserves the same fate as him (dying horribly and painfully via the upside down and traumatising someone as she does). season 4 was great for her :)

aesthetic - skateboards

dustin

colour - ???? my brain is saying blue but i have no idea. maybe someone in the notes knows?

deepest fears - probably a loss of control. he likes to Be Prepared and Have All The Knowledge. having no idea what's going on and being completely unprepared for any bad things that might pop up is the inverse of that

aesthetic - library books

el

colour - pink

deepest fears - that she's a monster

aesthetic - she doesn't really know who she is yet, so like... idk, some of those bright oufits she wore in season 3?? there were a LOT of hearts scattered around her bedroom in season 4, she seems to really like those <3

mike

colour - blue. including (but not limited to) a blue so deep that it looks black

deepest fears - being unwanted, being rejected for something he can't change about himself. in essence, that he's inherently unlovable

aesthetic - i went for a bike for my aesthetic mike wheeler playlist picture. wheels, wheeler. you get it

will

colour - yellow

deepest fears - oh god. i don't think about him enough for this. considering his two biggest breakdowns so far have been about losing mike, i guess that? the whole thing about being a freak, keeping parts of himself secret, being treated like this fragile little baby (when if anything being a survivor makes him the opposite). i'm not the right person to ask about will tbh

aesthetic - art, drawing, sketchbooks. dungeons and dragons, nintendo, wizard imagery

nancy

colour - purple/pink

deepest fears - maybe just watch her vecna vision sequence again? lol. she's mostly got survivor's guilt and blames herself for not saving barb. she's scared of that happening again, e.g. when she was the first to dive into the lake after steve, because she refuses to do nothing again like when barb got dragged into steve's pool yelling for nancy's help (which fred dying on her watch was an echo of)

aesthetic - my initial, instinctive thought is "girlboss" lol. guns, notebooks (re: investigative journalism). there's a wall of stuff in her room that el looks at in season 1 which might be helpful (i'm thinking of the little photostrip of nancy and barb messing around and laughing like el and max did in season 3)

[bullet-prooflove]

The North Star - Part Two: Case of the Ex - Terry Bruno x Reader

Welcome to mine and @the-hinky-panda The Bronx universe featuring our favs Terry Bruno & Mike Duarte.

This story takes place several years after 'Blood Out'. Terry still lives in the Bronx and works in Manhatten SVU.

Following on from @the-hinky-panda story 'The Dog' Mike has retired from the NYPD on medical grounds due to seizures causes by the attack. He has a therapy dog called Bono and lives with @the-hinky-panda character Meredith.

Tagging: @mysoulisasunflower @legit9thlunaticwarrior @bbyxoo @the-adzukibean @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @beardedbarba @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life

Part One: Moments

You make it over the threshold of your Squad Room with a few minutes to spare, the conversation from the car still playing in your head as you secure your weapon in the individualised gun locker and drop your lunch bag off in the kitchen. Your actions are mechanical, your body running on auto pilot because you’re struggling to process. There’s a disconnect in your brain between what you want and your prior experiences.

“It’s ok.” Terry had reassured you before you left the car. “I’m not mad, you’re not ready and that’s ok.”

It’s more complicated than that you wanted to tell him. It was an impulse ingrained into your psyche, a remnant of a trauma you had spent years trying to bury.

He turned in the driver’s seat to face you, his eyes meeting yours as he leaned in close. The scent of his aftershave was in your nose, lavender and sandalwood, it clung to his skin as his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek tenderly.

“It doesn’t change how I feel about you.” He told you with an honesty you felt in the very depths of your soul. “I can promise you that.”

You were in a haze of memories as you made your way to your desk, your thoughts ricocheting like bullets in your mind. Then and now, Paul and Terry, two different men. The past and the present. Sometimes in the dead of night you wake up in a cold sweat and you hear that laugh, that distinctive and hearty sound. It rebounds in your brain and it’s like you can hear it all over again, echoing in your ears.

You freeze, your muscles seizing because you are hearing that sound again, only it’s real and it’s coming from your workspace. There’s a small huddle of detectives lingering in the vicinity, they’re hanging on every word that emits from Detective Paul Russo’s mouth as he perches on the corner of your desk. You have to hand it to him it’s a power move, a way of claiming territory in an unfamiliar battleground. It’s just like Paul, a subtle way of trying to put you in your place. You didn’t see it back then but hindsight in a fine thing and you see it now. The same man, playing the same games, years later.

“Don’t you guys have cases to solve?” You said, breaking up the congregation. “Leads to follow up?”

The detectives scatter like school children caught out on the playground, heading in different directions. Only Paul remains. His blue eyes meet yours, they are clear and vivid, his pupils reactive and normal. He doesn’t flinch from your gaze; he knows what your seeking and he allows you to have it.

“I’ve been clean for over a year now.” He informed you, his gaze still on your face.

“Good for you.” You told him before dropping into your seat. “Now get your ass off my desk.”

He complied, slipping into the visitor’s chair instead. He was still in your proximity, not far enough away for you to be unaffected, it made your skin prickle and not in the good way. You removed the paperwork from your satchel before setting it down upon the surface of your desk, followed by your laptop.

There was a silence between the two of you, you let it hang, hoping he would get the message and disappear elsewhere.

“Aren’t you gonna ask what I’m doing here?”

“You are here to consult on my Robbery Homicide case.” You said, pressing the power button on your work laptop to bring it to life.

“That is the correct answer.” Paul informed you, clearly surprised. “But I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks Sarge.”

He pronounced the last word with an air of respect, praise rolling off his tongue. It felt like an ice pick being driven into your skull as you twisted your head towards him. His large hand reached out, covering yours momentarily, his thumb trailing over the gold stacking rings that graced your fingers.

“I’m proud of you.” he said quietly. “You said you’d do it, and you did.”

You remembered this version of Paul. Charming and alluring, gentle touches that lingered and a smile that seduced. How easy it had been to fall in the beginning, to get caught up in a man that seemed so handsome, so thrilling. It had been exciting, having all of his attention focused on you.

You withdrew your hand from his, dropping it into your lap because you remembered the other part too. The mania, the blown pupils and the red rimmed eyes, his excitable moods, his excruciating lows. The nights you’d wake up alone, because he was out God knows where, doing God knows what with God knows who.

“Detective Sinclair will take you through the case.” You told him, indicating to the workspace across from yours. “I have to be in court in an hour.”

His elbow came to rest on the corner of your desk as he leaned in close. He was clean shaven these days, his chiselled cheek bones no longer as gaunt as you remembered. Flecks of auburn shone in his hair from the fluorescent lights from above, and you wondered how many women he had corrupted since you. How many more notches lined his bedpost. The scent of his cologne was in your nostrils. It was one of the Ralph Laurens, something with bergamot and sage. It tasted bitter on your tongue.

“We’re going out tonight.” He told you, those bold eyes meeting yours as his voice lowered just an octave. “You, me, that place we used to like. We can see where the night takes us.”

His tone was dark and full of promise. It reminded you of the beginning, slow fingers drawing down the zipper of a little black dress. Fabric falling to the floor as that hot mouth plundered yours. It had happened quickly, your descent into madness and it ended in a storm of agony, blood and broken glass.

“I’m seeing someone.” You informed him, your eyes fixed on his.

“Oh Darlin...” He tutted, the edges of his mouth twitching up into a small smile. “He can’t do the things that I do for you…”

“No.” You said softly. “He does it better.”

It was a low blow, but it was worth it to see the devastation on those handsome features of his. For a moment he looks crestfallen, and you drink it in like a fine wine because what he is feeling right now is just a sliver of the pain, he’s caused you. The scars are still etched into your skin, they play out in your nightmares and invade your thoughts, stealing away your hopes and dreams because you can’t stand to lose yourself like that again. You won’t. What happened between the two of you ripples out from the initial point of impact and it affects everything. You were never the same after that.

“We’ll see.” Paul says as he raised to his feet and fastens the button on his suit jacket. “There’s plenty of time for the two of us to get reacquainted.”

Love Terry Bruno? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[rebelspykatie]

Give Such Secrets Away

@steddie-week Day Three - First Kiss

Link to AO3 | 10.5k | Rated T

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Steve Harrington.”

The words startle Steve into almost hitting his head on the lip of the glass case where he’s loading in a fresh tray of blueberry muffins. It’s the time of day when not a lot of customers come in, too late for breakfast but too early for lunch. He was using the downtime to reload the case of baked goods before the lunch rush while Bailey washed some dishes in the back.

He wasn’t expecting too many customers, as his Wednesday regulars had already come in and there was only one group of college aged girls tucked into a corner booth. He hadn’t heard the door. Adjusting his hearing aid, he straightens up from his crouched position behind the case.

The voice isn’t one he immediately recognizes, but when he looks up, he freezes.

“Munson?” Steve asks, dumbstruck. It’s obviously him. He hasn’t changed enough to make him unrecognizable, he just looks older and a bit more put together than the last time Steve saw him. Which was at Robin’s graduation, to be exact.

That night was a blur, but he still remembers Eddie running across the stage and flipping off every faculty member in sight as he finally ended his high school career after two unsuccessful senior year attempts. Dustin told him that Munson left town right after that. As far as Steve knows, he hasn’t stepped foot back in Hawkins until now. It’s not like they knew each other well enough to keep up on the other's whereabouts.

Now, his hair is shorter, still almost down to his shoulders, given the length of his ponytail, but well taken care of, unlike the frizzy mop Steve recalls. He must have graduated from 3-in-1 shampoo to real hair products. Or maybe he finally learned how to use a brush with his curly hair. Either way, it looks good.

There are laugh lines around his eyes and a distinct slit is cut through one of his eyebrows in an edgy way that Steve’s seen on people in the clubs Robin and Vickie occasionally drag him to on the weekends. There’s a piercing in the same eyebrow that Steve wants to reach out and touch. His attire hasn’t changed much, though. He’s still all leather and flannel and black.

If his memory serves him correctly, Eddie was always bouncing off the walls, with too much energy to contain in his lithe frame. He would jump on tables in the cafeteria and chase squirrels during recess when they were younger. His mouth ran about ten times faster than his brain and it regularly got him in trouble, with teachers and bullies alike.

This Eddie, one ten years older than the last time Steve saw him, looks more confident than Steve remembers. Calmer. His shoulders are pushed back, but relaxed, as if he’s sure of himself. High school Eddie looked one good breeze away from floating into space, or like a rainstorm would leave him shivering in the cold like a stray cat.

He’s staring at Steve with curiosity, instead of disdain. It throws Steve for a loop.

“Figured you’d be long gone from this town by now, man,” Eddie says, leaning against the counter beside the pastry display, with one hip popped out and his arms crossed.

“My family’s here, I wouldn’t last long without them,” Steve replies truthfully.

And it is true. Maybe they’re not his blood and bones, but his little found family is mostly still in Hawkins. Hopper, Joyce, and El. Robin. Claudia Henderson and occasionally Dustin. Max.

Some of the kids scattered around to other places, but Steve gets to see them during the holidays, like right now. Will, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin were all coming into town over the next week. Even though it’s only been a month since he saw them at Thanksgiving, he can’t help being excited to see them again so soon. Erica is going to meet her boyfriend’s family this year, and he tries not to dwell on how much he already misses her.

“I thought you didn’t talk to your parents much,” Eddie presumes, perplexed, like they’re old friends.

Steve raises both eyebrows in surprise. “How would you even know that?”

“Oh, sorry,” his cheeks flush pink and he runs a hand over the back of his neck, “Henderson told me about it once during a campaign.” Eddie shrugs.

“Ah,” Steve tisks, “once a blabbermouth always a blabbermouth.”

Eddie grins and it dimples his cheeks in such a distracting way that Steve looks away to catch his breath. It’s been so long since high school, that Steve forgot how cute Eddie could be without any effort. All wide grins and twinkling eyes. He mostly ignored the attraction back then, but he’s learned a lot about himself since those days.

He takes a moment to collect himself by turning around to grab the next tray of pastries to add to the case.

“So, you uh- you work here, then?” Eddie asks. When he turns back around with the tray in hand, Eddie is glancing around at the decor of the small shop. Assessing, but not in a judgmental way. He looks impressed. “This is a step up from Scoops Ahoy. A lot of steps up, actually.”

Loading the apple fritters into the case, he says, “I own it.”

He doesn’t look directly at Eddie as he says it but he can see Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline out of the corner of his eye.

“Holy shit, Harrington!” Eddie exclaims, slapping one hand on the counter. “I knew from personal experience your brownies were good, but I didn’t know they were open your own bakery good.”

Continue on AO3

[the-vengefulspirit]

Intro!!

Hiya! I’m Cassidy or Micheal :D This is just a blog for my FNaF kintypes. So that’s what I’ll yap about here. The content is 14+ and viewer discretion is heavily advised as I will often talk about child death, murder, and general horror/Fnaf content on this page that some may find disturbing. Art posted here will almost certainly have gore or horror elements to it so if that isn’t your cup of tea, I advise for your safety, that you leave.

Do not fear, William kins! I don’t bite :3 /silly (no but seriously, don’t be afraid to interact with me. I promise I’m nice so long as you’re nice.)

I am a minor btw. (15+)

This will get updated with time :]

Tags!! #Cassidy’s rambles: regular old posts specific to my Cassidy kintype.

#Spiteful Spirit: vents or rant posts also in regards to my Cassidy kintype.

#Mike’s scatter-brained thoughts: regular old posts but specific to my Micheal kintype

#The Horrors™️: Mike vents

#spirit talks: answering asks

#Ghost kid doodles: art :3

#ill fated horror show: Canon talk/kin mems.

as stated before,

THIS BLOG IS 14+ BECAUSE OF HEAVY/MATURE THEMES AND TOPICS. (aka 15 or older)

[randogirlo-fando-main]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Stoner!Reader

Y’all I’m sorry if this isn’t too good, I literally wrote it tonight because I couldn’t stop thinking about how me and Eddie would meet and this is probably how it would go in the beginning lol hope you guys like it.

Part Two

Word count-3.6k+ words

Warnings-marijuana use, swearing, that’s about it

———————————————————————

A puff in your chest you walk through the cafeteria doors, eyes darting for a certain club you’ve only heard about. Well, heard about the leader, not so much the club.

You transferred to Hawkins for your senior year, having only been here a whopping two days before hearing of the infamous Eddie Munson. Moving to a new town, the first thing to find is a new dealer. And how can you beat one that just so happens to also be the dungeon master of the DND club here at school?

Your eyes meet with a table all in matching shirts with “Hellfire” in big bold letters. Jackpot

The clunk of your brown beat up combat boots is deafening to you as you walk across the cafeteria of teens to the end of the table, most eyes at the table on you besides the ones you were searching for.

“Hey, are you this Eddie I keep hearing about?” The smile on your face is bright as you lean your hands on the table to get a closer look. His eyes pierce yours, scrunching with the big smile on his face.

“The one and only. Not scoping out the ‘Freak’ are you?” His tone slightly wavers, but the smile never breaks.

“Nope, you’re the exact person I was looking for. Meet me in the parking lot after the final bell? We’ve got some business to attend to~” Slipping into a sing song voice, he holds back a chuckle before leaning on the table.

“You’re not a murderer are you? You seem a little too sweet.”

“Nope! Doesn’t mean I couldn’t be one if needed though.” You smile before walking away, turning around and putting two thumbs up towards Eddie.

As you leave the cafeteria the table has gone completely silent.

“Dude who the hell was that?” Mike gripes, confused on the new face that just stood so confidently before them.

“I have no idea.” Eddie laughs, completely confused by the entire exchange.

“Guys it’s that new girl, moved here from the south or something.” Lucas butts in, having heard about you during basketball practice.

“Hold up, you’re telling me she’s from the south and she’s just gonna walk up to the Hellfire Club?”

“Well?” Dustin looks at Eddie questionably, waiting for a response from the homie(yall I blanked and had to).

“Well what?” His eyes go wide, having zoned out for most of the conversation.

“Are you going to meet up with her?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll just be cautious but I’m sure it’s just a sale or something.” He shrugs, going back to his lost train of thought.

As the final bell rings you jump from your seat, ready to head to the door of the school to wait for Eddie. Picking at your nails, you just feel a poke to your shoulder.

“Hey there?” He says looking a little nervous.

“Oh awesome you actually came! Oh shit okay, there’s a lot more people here then I expected so I’ll start with my first question.”

“Oh? There’s a lot more people leaving the school when school lets out then you expected?” He gives you a grin before you pushed his shoulder lightly.

“Shut up, I’m scatter brained I’ve been sober way too long!” He laughs before a light bulb goes off in his head.

“Here follow me I have a feeling I know what this is about.” You follow him to the patch of woods near the parking lot. After a few short minutes you’re at a picnic bench perfectly placed in the middle of the clearing.

“Ah so this is where the deals happen gotcha.” You smile at him before looking around.

“I like it, makes me feel like there should be a creek nearby.” The nerves spitfire as you word vomit, holding your hands together behind your back.

“Yeah, less likely to be interrupted. So how much you need. I’ve got a half for 10 since you’re a new buyer and all.”

“That seems cheap, I’ll go a gram. Probably have to see you again in like a week if that.” You hand him a twenty before he pulls out his lunchbox, grabbing a gram for you.

“Now on to my next question, any chance I could join Hellfire? Haven’t played dnd in a couple years so I’ll need to make myself a character still. I usually go halfling bard for shits and giggles but if y’all need a specific type I can play around. Or I can just sit in if y’all have already started the campaign.” He smiles at your word vomit.

“Well, we’re currently in a campaign but we have roughly two more sessions until it’s done. We’ve gotta make sure you end up a good character though. How about after next session you can show me what you’ve already got?” He smiles widely, making you sigh in relief as you slump into the seat.

“Oh thank god! Dude it’s so fucking hard here. Like I thought it was hard to make friends in the south Jesus Christ. I tried to talk to someone in bio today and she looked at me like I was insane.” He chuckled before nodding with you, sitting next to you and leaving a safe distance.

“Well you’ve heard my infamy so I get it. Honestly it would’ve just taken you sitting alone at lunch for me to come swoop in. I’m known for saving lost sheep.” He nudges your shoulder before looking directly at you.

“I guess me coming to you first shows I’m not a lost sheep. Just a stoner with geeky interests. I mean my favorite movie is the Labyrinth.”

“Oh god please tell me you don’t have the hots for David Bowie.” He rubs his face dramatically.

“I like his music and he is very attractive but eh, not really my thing.” As he stands he holds his hand out for you, assisting you in getting up.

“Well you are giving off hippie flower child so I guess liking his music is sort of fitting?” He says it as a question, what with not really listening to anything other then metal and rock to really know.

“I think that stereotype is more Fleetwood Mac and Abba, which I do listen to a lot. I’m assuming you’re more Metallica, Black Sabbath?” He looks at you stunned, smiling ear to ear with a big nod.

Without realizing, you make it back to the parking lot. You look around for your ride, who you told you would be a little late out of school. Once you see the familiar car you turn to Eddie.

“Well thank you for a better first week and I look forward to seeing more of your little group.”

“Wait, I don’t know the fair maiden’s name?” He stops you, waiting for a response.

“Oh it’s (y/n), see you around Eddie.” You run off to the car, the passenger door opening to reveal Steve Harrington in the driver’s seat.

Eddie was dumbfounded, the former king of Hawkins knows you?”

As you and Steve pull out of the school parking lot he looks at you like an alien.

“Why on earth would you be coming out of the woods with Eddie Munson?” He asks, eyes mostly on the road, but he continues to dart back to you looking for an answer.

“Chill out, I needed a new dealer and I joined Hellfire. Besides, isn’t your son Dustin in the club?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you should be hanging around them. I mean you just moved here and you’re here to finish your senior year with ‘no distractions’ per your mom’s request.” He eyes you at the red light as you sigh in response.

“Well I was tired of no one talking to me! I’d rather have majority of the school hate me and have a group of friends then spend my entire senior year being invisible.” After some long silence you pull up to the Family Video Store parking lot.

“I guess I can pick you up whenever I pick up Dustin, but you have to find a ride when I can’t just like Dustin does.” You nod smiling before getting out of the parked car.

“Thank you again for getting me this job Steve.”

“No problem Cus’ just don’t make me regret it please.” Robin’s shift had started an hour before you and Steve’s. She was slumped on the front desk before peeking up at the sound of the bell on the door.

“Oh it’s just you guys! You ready for your first shift?” Her eyes peer to you, smiling with a thumbs up.

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

Twenty minutes left of shift before closing and as robin swept and Steve put back returns, you were rewinding all the tapes. As you slip The Shining back into it’s case you hear the bell go off.

“Welcome to family video, how can I help you?” The curly headed kid looks confused before a look of surprise dawns him.

“Wait you’re the girl from lunch!” He points at you, awestruck.

“Oh you’re part of Hellfire! Wait. Curly hair, dopey smile. Hat. Dustin, right?”

“Oh my god how do you know me? Wait did Eddie-“

“Henderson what are you doing here?” Steve perks up, rubbing Dustin’s head.

“I see you’ve met my cousin?” You swore Dustin’s eyes were going to pop out of his head.

“You’re related!? Holy shit Steve you didn’t tell me your cousin went to my school!”

“She’s a senior I didn’t think you guys would intermix until she decided to just walk up to your lunch table.” As they kept talking about you, Robin came up next to you and smiled.

“Dude you know the whole school was watching you talk to Eddie today right?” You whipped your head at her confused.

“Why?”

“Because everyone was saying how you were such a quiet southern belle and then all of a sudden you’re walking up to ‘the devil’ with a smile on your face.” Your face scrunches at southern belle, uncomfortable with the choice of words.

“Dude I’m a stoner dressing like I’m going to Woodstock while cussing like a sailor.” You deadpan as she giggles at the choice of words.

“You’re right, you’re right. I mean your accent is almost non existent except for the ‘y’all’ you like to throw out there.” She over exaggerates y’all, making you laugh.

“What’s so funny over there?” Steve says defensively.

“Have you heard Robin’s southern accent? It’s horrendous.” She starts singing Delta Dawn, causing the video store to erupt into giggles as you all continue closing. Once 8pm rolled around, you turned off all the lights while everyone grabbed their stuff. Steve locks the door behind everyone before all piling into his car.

“How did I end up with all three of you?” He asks, starting the engine.

“Eddie dropped me off here.”

“I always ride with you.

“I live with you.” You all three say as he huffs.

“Wait does that mean I cant come stay in your guest room anymore Steve?” Dustin asks, brows furrowed.

“You get the couch.” Dustin whines a little before you lean over to him.

“You can sleep in my room when you come, I’ll take the couch.”you whisper to him. He looks at you confused before smiling back at you. Something about your eyes make you seem so genuine.

“I’ll take the couch, i-it’s fine. Thank you though.” He looks away before you smile triumphantly to yourself. One more hellfire member befriending you.

After dropping Robin and Dustin home you jump in the front seat before heading to Steve’s.

“If you’re not careful you’ll have that boy drooling over your southern charm.” Steve jokes, waving as Dustin walks backwards to his door.

“Please, I heard all about Suzie poo at work. If anything, he’s probably still confused on how someone as nice as me can be related to you.” You giggle as Steve drives away.

Walking into the apartment you throw your bag on the couch lying face first next to it.

“Steve we need to demust your place.” You say, rolling over.

“Would you prefer it smelling like weed?” He asks, pulling out rolling paper.

“Yes, definitely. What kind of question is that? Do you know how long it’s been for me? Too fucking long.” You grab the baggie of bud from your bag and throw it his direction. He catches it and instantly starts to get it all set up to roll.

“Eddie does have the best stuff. He gets it from Reefer Rick. Plus you can’t really beat 30 for a gram.” You’re eyes widen at the price.

“He charged me 20 but he said it was because I’m a new buyer.” You say, sitting up to look at him.

“Hm.” He just continues rolling, no reaction on his face. Your brain whirls as the thoughts keep coming. Why just ‘hm’? Before you can overthink too much, Steve holds the joint to your lips, waiting for you to react before he lights it. You inhale slightly before pulling away, inhaling a little more through your nose and breathing out.

“God I needed this” you take another before passing it to Steve.

“I could tell, your brain was going a mile a minute it looked like you were reading the wall.”

You keep passing back and forth before putting it out on the ashtray. You slide off the couch, stretching your limbs before lighting a few candles you brought and grabbing your backpack.

“I’m gonna do some homework.” He nods in a acknowledgment before you went to your room and closed the door.

The hammering of Steve on your bedroom door woke you up the next day. Pulling the pillow over your head didn’t help the cause.

“I swear to god if you don’t wake up you won’t have time to smoke and we’re not hotboxing my car!” You groan before getting up, getting ready for the day. When you finally emerge from your room you walk over to the tray to see he had rolled an extra one last night. You quickly light it and inhale, waking up for the day. After finishing half of it you put it out, and stick it in your bag for later.

“Don’t forget breakfast!” He throws a orange at your before ushering you out the door. You both get in the car and finally can breathe. As he gets it started and pulls out of the parking lot you start to peel your orange.

“Steve this was a terrible breakfast choice where do I put the peels?”

“Damn, I don’t know. Put it in that grocery bag!” He continues driving towards the school as your finish your orange.

Pulling into the school you glance at the car clock and see you have just enough time to get to class.

“Jesus you reek dude, spray some of that girly stuff before you go in.” You huff a goodbye before you leave the car, spraying a little bit of perfume, not too much though, before heading inside. Once you get to your locker and get to class the bell rings and you shuffle to your seat quickly. As the teacher takes attendance you stare off at your pencil, shaking it slowly to make it look like rubber.

“Fun trick huh?” You look up to see the dark curls sitting next to you, bright smile on display.

“Makes time go by for sure.” You smile back, looking up to see the teacher starting the lesson. You try your best to take notes and pay attention but a note gets slipped onto your desk and suddenly you can’t pay attention.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

I wish

I wish who?

You see from the corner of your eye as he scribbles as small as possible on the tiny scrap of paper. It takes a minute and suddenly you’re wondering how long this punchline could be.

Goblin king goblin king wherever you may be take this child of mine far away from me

“That doesn’t even start with I wish!” You whisper yell as quiet as possible. He points at you with a surprised face as you fell for finishing the line. You’re cheeks go slightly pink and you quietly giggle. Without even realizing how much time had passed, the bell rings and you sigh having to leave the fun you were having. You both stand up, heading towards your next classes.

“So wanna sit with us at lunch?” He looks at you hopefully.

“I assumed that was already happening?” You say smiling. You continue talking about anything and everything as you teach your next class.

“Oh do you have history too?” You ask, standing at the door.

“Nope, just had to walk the fair maiden to her next venture.” You thank him before heading inside, smiling at him through the closed doors little window.

Lunch time rolls around and you’re all to excited to sit with the club. You practically bounce to the table, sitting next to Eddie as the first two there.

“Well hello again.” He smirks and you curtsy in your seat.

“Good to see you m’lord.” His cheeks go slightly pink at the nickname before he chuckles.

“Why is she in my seat?” You turn to see one of the members standing above you.

“Sorry dude, didn’t know there was assigned seats.” You go to stand up but Eddie stops you, lightly pushing your shoulder back down.

“Gareth there’s plenty of seats, you’re fine.” The member huffs before sitting a few chairs down. Soon, Dustin sits next to you smiling from ear to ear.

“(Y/n)! You’re sitting with us now?” He looks between you and Eddie.

“Yep, she’s joining the club!” You smile at everyone around the table, waving at the ones you haven’t met.

“Wait, you’re Steve’s cousin right? My sister Nancy said you were moving here.” You smile at the boy, you now know is Mike and nod.

“Yep! You must be Mike since Nancy is your sister. Good to meet you.” He gives you a small smile before talking with Gareth about something.

“Oh so that’s why Harrington is your ride.” Eddie says, pulling your focus.

“Sadly, I live with him too. Good thing is I can smoke inside.” He pats your shoulder and can’t pull the smile from his face.

“Woman after my own heart.” You giggle and turn towards Dustin who’s been poking your shoulder.

“Are you coming to hell fire tomorrow?”

“You betcha! I can’t wait to see how y’all do things.” You high five him and he starts telling you all about his character.

“You won’t believe it, Eddie had us all thinking we had killed off all the monsters and then all of a sudden a gelatinous cube comes out of no where!”

“Damn those are not easy!” His excitement of telling you the story almost erupts as he slowly starts standing up getting to the climax of the story.

“So Lucas pulled out this sharp blade someone at a tavern gave him as a joke and sliced that thing until it was the size of a pea!” You dramatically fall back into your seat.

“No way! I can’t wait to see this first hand.” You look behind you do Eddie and catch him staring at you. Pink comes to your cheeks as you give him a little wave before being absorbed back into Dustin.

After school you were going to be walking to the apartment because Steve had to work. As you pulled your half joint out on the side of the road you hear heavy metal coming closer. You stopped walking, staying as close to the curb as possible before the loud van slowed to a stop next to you.

“What are you doing walking m’lady?” The voice of Eddie has you sighing in relief.

“Jesus I thought you were a kidnapper! Steve had to work so I’m walking home, gonna finish this on my way.” You wave the joint at him and he chuckles.

“You’ve only got half there. How about I give you a ride? We can smoke while I drive.” You smile and nod before he jumps out of the car. He jogs around the the passenger side and opens the door.

“M’lady” he says with a bow.

“M’lord” you curtsy and get in while giggling. He shuts the door and jogs back around, ready to get on the road.

“Care to light this for us?” He uses one hand to hand you one of his joints and a lighter while he starts to drive. You put it between your lips and light it, inhaling the thick smoke deeply before holding it as long as you can. He shifts his eyes to you a few times to make sure you were good before he saw you handing it to him. He takes a few puffs before handing it back, getting to Steve’s relatively quick. He parks in front of the building still smoking with you.

“You wanna come in? We can have a little after school snack.” He stops the car and smiles at you.

“Sounds good to me.” You both leave the van as you pull your keys from your bag. You go to unlock the door, Eddie right behind you.

“How’d you know where Steve lives?” You ask, getting the door open and leading him in.

“I’ve dropped Dustin off here a few times.” You give a faint ‘ah’ before opening the fridge.

“I can offer strawberries, kiwis, or-“ you close the fridge and open the cabinet to scan.

“Cereal.” You finish, looking at Eddie.

“What kind of cereal?”

“Honey combs.”

“Jackpot!” He smiles and you pull out the box before grabbing two bowls. As you make you both some cereal he comes up to help you put the box away. You both end up on either end of the couch, using the arms as tables while you watch Little Shop of Horrors

“I can’t believe Family video had this, i love this show.” He looks confused at first, watching the movie intently.

“I thought it was a movie?”

“It is, but it was a Broadway musical first. I actually was in my school production of it sophomore year.”

“Oh of course you’re a drama kid!” He chuckles before drinking the milk from his bowl.

“That obvious? Showtunes just really do it for me.” You laugh, going to take both your bowls to the sink.

“Hey have you worked on your character? We could try to get some of the basic stuff done.” He exclaims, smiling widely.

“Okay but first homework because I have to graduate.” He huffs while you pull your textbooks out.

“Come onnn, what’s one days of homework?”

“Something tells me it’s more then one days worth for you.” You tease, writing down some answers to the questions on the work sheets.

[nburkhardt]

3

I got two different ones for this 😇

3: Love From The Other Side by Fall Out Boy

First thought goes to Steddie, where they fall in love in the middle of the apocalypse obviously. But I’m not gonna get into it right now

Second thought goes to Byler!!! Like come on now!! It’s kinda perfect for them right?? I’d write more but my brain is so scattered right now, so sorry about that.

But like come on now tho. Can you imagine Will being stuck in the Upside Down again and Mike not knowing what to do. Or afterwards they break apart because it’s too much. Will was definitely Mike’s sunshine and Mike doesn’t know what but he’d trade something for him back.

[qulizalfos]

uhh the v v late debating spidermike ficlet for @drangues under the cut!

A classroom this stuffy, with thick air clogging up the space, hogging it and pressing in, tugging words and thoughts with it (very selfishly, Mike noted), was expected. More than expected, with this sheer number of teenagers packed into this small space was a completely and utterly, 100%, tried and true debating experience. But as Mike’s pen drilled incessant taps into the green notepad sprawled across his desk, he briefly wondered if it would kill everyone inside the room to, like, crank open a window or something. Ink from his last speech indented though the page and placed scattered and unintelligible lines acting as a base he was writing on.

Ah. Writing, a permanent hobby for him, the very reason he’d signed up for this crap in the first place.

Okay, “crap” was totally unwarranted, he loved his tiny debate club, dwindling in members but never in spirit.

But when his own scrawl spelled out something that had Dustin in stitches just an hour ago when he’d called him in a bout of unexpected indignance overlaid with exasperation, it set Mike’s mouth in a hard line and made it difficult to focus on the current speaker, words slipping through one ear and out the other.

Mike’s gaze zeroed in on the word Spider, and briefly wondered what might have happened if some other schmuck had suffered a bite.

But that was admittedly kind of terrible of him to even consider.

The scrawny kid currently speaking brought a neat reprise of the day’s theme, like distilling the pure essence of annoyance and spilling it into Mike’s brain. Mike estimated him to be about a year or two younger, and begrudgingly enthusiastic about debating. Mike would have totally resonated with that, if given any other motion. Because the boy at the lectern was just gushing about Spiderman, so much so it was funny, and he spouted some recurring point relating to how the city desperately needed a hero.

“Point of information.” A hand raised in Mike’s peripheral, and a familiar girl (was her name Lauren or Laura?) a couple seats down pushed her glasses further up her nose and peered at her notes. “As I’ve said in my speech, and as several other members of the Opposition have brought up” —a faint chorus of grunts sounded in approval from their side of the room at the sweep of her hand— “we already have the police, so wouldn’t you agree we don’t need a hero, necessarily?”

The boy’s eyes lit up, and he launched himself headfirst into another long winded spiel. “You see, that’s a common misconception…”

Mike shot a glance at his own speech, again. Trying to wheedle his Head of Debating into letting him switch sides without sounding desperately like a diehard fanboy of Spiderman (please note: Mike himself), then proceeding to give up at preserving his dignity and begging to please, put him on Prop, had been fruitless in the end, and here he was, regretting the missed opportunity of not texting the organizers that he was violently ill, or something.

His eyes scanned the book in front of him, taking in all his objections to himself. Funny, if he wanted points, he could’ve gone to Nancy and asked why she was so obsessed with taking down Spiderman.

But something in him couldn’t stand to see his own sister red-string every grief-warped perspective she had on the matter. He couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t turn on his heel and walk away.

It would’ve all been perfectly good, he seethed inwardly, if he could’ve been placed on the Proposition side of things.

And, Dustin was right. The first few speeches had been really funny, (if a little offensive, he thought, gazing at the overcaffeinated boy helping himself to another swig of Monster. He was actually getting quite worrying, Mike thought. Mike himself had a signature leg bounce, just his heel bobbing and occasionally the scuff of his shoe rubbing soundlessly against the metal leg of his chair. But the boy with the Monster looked like he was convulsing. Caffeine flooding through his veins, his hand was spasming on the table, he looked like he was gonna go run a marathon after the debate was called to an end and they filtered out of this.

“We’d like to thank the speaker for their very fine speech,” an adjudicator said in monotone, flipping through a clipboard in front of them. The kid sauntered down to his seat, grinning wide. “We’d now like to call the next speaker from the opposition side to the stand.”

Scattered applause, morphing seamlessly into a full applause, came from the others. A couple heads turned in his direction, and with a jolt he remembered he was next.

Shit.

He scrambled together his speech, snatching the stray sheet of paper with rebuttal (arguments he had against Prop that he’d dredge up at some point or another) after a second's thought. He crossed the room, heart rate almost rising past acceptable level as he dumped all the paper on the lectern in a soft flutter of sheets.

He surveyed the audience, and the adjudicator from before nodded for him to continue.

Okay then.

He breathed in, deep. “Hello, honorable house, members of the proposition, my fellow members of the proposition. Adjudicators, timekeeper.” He nodded in acknowledgement to the room. He hadn’t meant it to sound like it was quite so melded into his spite, but it had been a long day of worrying about this exactly, and here he was, hands gripping the sides of the lectern, poised to convince a classroom full of people that his own existence was a violation of morals. He wanted to think there were worse things to be doing on a Thursday evening, but then again, he’d just finished another terrible Netflix show, so. He was limited in options, not counting going out and protecting the very same people who were piled into a hot room feeding off each other’s views that he was a fucking con man, at best, or dangerous, at worst.

He composed himself. “My name is Mike Wheeler, and I am here today, representing opposition to strongly oppose the motion that this house believes Spiderman’s actions are ethical and just.”

Laura-slash-Lauren coughed, the sound muffled into her sleeve. Maybe he needed to control his current tone, which was laced with indignance.

It’s a debate. It’s nothing.

“In my speech today I will have a few main points, but I’d like to first just start with a bit of rebuttal. Okay, look—”

His eyes scanned the paper, settling on something he’d scribbled down five minutes ago. “We’ve all seen him, and the likely truth is that Spiderman is just a kid.” He raised his chin, making eye contact with the room. He wasn’t sure he even needed the speech. “I mean, we are placing the fate of our city in a teenager, one probably the same age as everyone debating here. This is just such a ridiculous expectation.”

A thump of the gavel. Points of information were available to be offered.

“Moving on,” Mike continued, and God, he didn’t remember the last time something felt so wrong, so laughably stupid. Here he was, reminding people why he was a lost cause in every life he could lead.

Get a grip!

“We don’t know who he is.” Mike trailed his finger under the sentence so he wouldn’t lose his place. His throat felt oddly dry when he spoke, and he began to wish he’d brought his yellow water bottle up to the stand. “And, let’s face it, if we don’t know who this guy is, we can’t be sure of anything. He could abandon us right when we need him most, and we wouldn’t be able to do a single thing to stop him. He could leave any time, making him totally unreliable.”

Laura/Lauren nodded along. Jesus Christ.

“Continuing with that,” he said, gritting his teeth. “While acknowledging that there are many false theories out there—” his mind summoned, unbidden, an image of Dustin, in the middle of class with protests flying around the room, calmly defending that Spiderman came around because of a mosquito bite, rather than a spider bite. “It’s plausible, Stacy. You’re just afraid of the truth.” Mike swore that the glint in Dustin’s eye haunted him until this day. “Spiderman is heavily associated with the death of Barbara Holland, and the police themselves claim to be looking into it. If that doesn’t suggest he—”

“Point of information!” A nasally voice interjected. “That’s a conspiracy.”

Mike wanted to do a lot of things in that moment. Namely, to throw his head back in laughter, or run down and offer up his phone to get a recording for Nancy, or let the building anger win and use a web to rip the lectern from the damn floor.

“Like I said, the police are looking into it.” Mike argued. “It doesn’t look good for him. Ethics are a core principle of any hero, and if Spiderman is associated with a literal murder, it’s well within the right of people to question those ethics.”

God, what was he doing?

“Moving on to my speech.”

This didn’t feel like debating anymore. It was rimmed with an inherent sense of wrongwrongwrong, like from every angle it was just stretched and distorted, one of his favorite hobbies but not what he signed up for in the slightest.

“Ethics are, by definition, ‘moral principles that govern a person's behavior or the conducting of an activity.’ and just is defined as being ‘based on or behaving according to what is morally right and fair.’ If we are going to place our own safety in the hands of anyone, they have to follow these. It’s a given.”

He paused, letting the words sink in, but he kept his eyes fixed on the sheet in front of him. When he opened his mouth to continue, sentences heaped on top of each other and scrambling to connect the dots in a calm and confident manner, he felt his gut twist into a knot again.

(He did everything right, all facts considered).

He made eye contact. He suppressed the anger racing around inside his head, driving it into the metaphoric ground with his heel. Truthfully, he couldn’t help but exaggerate points wildly and perforate them with hand motions, but since it fell under the ‘passionate’ header, he’d be fine. He delivered his points fast and smooth, and kept a level head when faced with an argument.

(All facts considered, everything felt terrifyingly wrong).

It was definitely one of his worst speeches so far.

And yet, that wasn’t why he felt quite so hollow walking out of the hall.

[dire-kumori]

I'm glad you liked my last idea- I had another idea (I am also very scattered brained and just come up with like 16 new ideas for random au I find on the internet) We're after like I'm gonna say 80 time loops where Michael is like fully devolved into the reaper He decides not just to kill his younger self this time... He only plans on doing it once just one little piece of revenge.. And he knows it will hurt his younger self too so it's like a double win...

Basically he sneaks into the Afton house at night and kidnaps Elizabeth.. Then he takes her to wear sister location would be built.. He knows that Michael saw him and is probably going to follow him in an attempt to save Elizabeth he's planning on it.... Elizabeth is like freaking out and reaper Mike Is trying to justify... Hes got her tied up to a tree and everything

Reaper Michael: I know it's my fault you became that thing.. If I had watched if I had come sooner I could have saved you.. *Touches her hair Elizabeth squirms away*

Elizabeth: When my dad and brothers find you they're gonna make you pay you're a bad man!! (She is trying really hard to act brave but she is terrified)

Reaper Michael: I know.. cause I care about Elizabeth.. I've always cared about you're my little sister for God damn sake... And I know that somewhere in that horrible twisted mass of metal and plastic you cared about me too.. But you still killed me you wore me like some kind of dress up..

*Elizabeth suddenly realized that this thing somehow is Michael screams and wiggles against her restraints. Younger Michael hears it and rides his bike towards the scream*

Ripper Michael: I honestly should thank you Elizabeth you showed me that no matter how much I tried to hide it all I am is a dirty rotten creature and all I can do is hurt people... But you still killed me and it hurt so so much.. And one death won't mean anything in the greater scheme.. (Man has gone full monster He knows what hes doing is terrible and hes not actually helping anyone it's more just cathartis)

*Elizabeth not really understanding what he means by everything... But understanding that somehow she did this to him.. She is so terrified she wants to just start crying there not only because of the monster in front of her but because this monster is her brother and she made him like this for some reason...*

Elizabeth: What happened to you Michael? what did I do what's going on? I'm so sorry?

Reaper Michael: That's what I said to you... *Michael thinks back to the scooping room* Want to know what you said?

*Younger Michael is in the clearing with a baseball bat*

Reaper Michael: The scooper only hurts for a second.. (Quickly kills Elizabeth I don't know how he just does-)

Then he probably makes a quick work of Younger Michael before it starts all over again..

Sorry I couldn't stop thinking about this since you said earlier hes only doing This to deal with his own feelings of self-hatred. It's kind of Marinate in it.. I thought it would be interesting if in one loop he kills Elizabeth It's like hes gone fully off of the deep end at this point and doesn't really have a way to justify what hes doing anymore- And even though he does blame himself for what happened to Elizabeth he still hates that she did it to him.. Sorry for how long this ISL OLI hope you like it!!

This is pure evil and I am absolutely living for it!

Reaper Mike has fully gone off the deep end if he's outright willing to kill his little sister. He knows that she isn't the one who killed him, but can't completely erase the pain and terror he felt when he was down there alone in the scooping room. And as a ghost possessing his own derelict corpse, those emotions he felt at the moment of his death never dull. Circus Baby and Ennard are gone but the human soul who controlled them is right there, so weak and vulnerable, unable to fight back, and it's not like it will stick, right? One he slaughters the young version of himself time will be reset and she'll be fine. It's just once, a brief momentary release...

William would be proud of how alike they are in that moment.

(Bit of gore talk ahead; par for the course with a lot of my writing but if it's upsetting to you, skip over to 'He knew.')

And young Mike is utterly broken at the sight of his sister's corpse, drenched in blood with her belly slit open, intestines hanging down to the ground with her face frozen in an agonized scream for help that never came. He knew that something dangerous was coming. He knew his family was in danger but selfishly, he only thought about saving his own skin. Why didn't he try to warn anyone? Why didn't he try harder to protect his siblings? It's his fault Elizabeth's dead, and in the face of how utterly he's failed is sister, he doesn't even put up a fight when the Reaper comes for him next.

Whether or not anyone else aside from Michael remembers any of the loops depends entirely on the author. But let's say in this case Elizabeth does remember some of it, if only as a bad dream. The next morning Elizabeth reacts to the sight of Michael with a mix of guilt and horror and actually vomits at the sight of him.

[poptart-artt]

Another question for the ask thing! This time I’ll ask your thoughts on popular ships in the fandom like Fronnie! I WOULD ask your thoughts on the popular hc that Monty destroyed Bonnie, but I think I know how you feel about that lol Maybe instead I’ll ask your thoughts on the GlamMike theory?

(Tumblr didn't notify me- shame on you Tumblr mailbox!)

So, I'm a HUGE fan of Roxy x Chica as a ship (hence why I do have that ship in my AU).

I am a bit partial to Monty x Bonnie myself (obviously lol).

I don't know, it's so hard to choose! Q^Q

As for GlamMike - is that the theory that Freddy is possessed by Mike? Or have I missed something in the fandom (it's been known to happen with my poor scattered brain)? I don't think Freddy is possessed by Mike. I believe the new bot-beans are all super advanced AI, simple as that. Or maybe with Freddy it could be both. Because then I have to wonder about OUR Freddy vs. prototype Freddy and the supposed others that Vanessa basically threatened to replace our Freddy with. It's like - would they all have a similar personality to our Freddy? How much of him, then, would be programming, and how much would be Mike? (Stepping into that one room with our Freddy didn't just give him an existential crisis, it gave me one for him, lol).

Basically, I'm just having them for my AU very, very advanced AI to the point they DO have their own being and personality...to the point they may as well not be AI and are nothing close to the AI we see today. We're talking about sentient levels AI here. Consciousness, the whole nine.

I hope that explains everything! I'm so torn up with the theories floating around that I am open to anything because at this point - who knows!? But I'm positive so far that none of the new beans are possessed by ghosts, at least that's my personal belief.

[azurefaire]

@dandelionsprout42 Bit of a long reply I'll write here so I'll add a read more :)

The thing about the Tinker Bell franchise is that people never can spell her name right, I've seen Tinkerbell (google used to autocorrect to that), TinkerBell on spotify, and Tinkerbelle here on the Brain Freeze linkedin. So you'd be correct that no one can spell it right, even the people who worked on it. 🤔😭

What I have found is that my blog is now credited in the article and my addition is there which honestly makes me so happy!! But there are a few small errors in the article, 1. the fairy quiz Hopeful's Quest has been found (archived by the tumblr blog web-back then and found by me around January 2020 i think- it's in Flashpoint Archive and had stills of Fairy Mary)

2. Barry Atkinson's work may be falsely used as I believe some the work might be used from Tinker Academy, the cancelled 7th in the series. Or from the early draft of Pirate Fairy. (Quest for the Queen) However there are works that are more likely to definitively from the cancelled film- we already have some on the page like Mark Cote

We can say for certain some early works such as Michael Spooner or Colin Stimpson are more accirate, so maybe there should be a removal of Atkinson's works and artstation because they say "oh this is probably from the 2007 prototype" but mention it is rumor

3. There isnt a strong differentiation between the different cuts and the planned sequels. Because, from what we know RoB was just a placeholder title/or rename for the Tinker Bell movie (many boards say Tinkerbell, The Tinkerbell Movie- rarely mention ring of belief as title), and from what I've seen this short by Attitude Studio/Brain Freeze is not a segment/clip of the movie but connected to a potential sequel in shared the universe, rumored to have been added in a short for the DVD release. Some of the portfolios and clips suggest that. But information is scattered everywhere, and not consolidated in an easy place. I've even seen that there were at least "dozens"/several directors attached to Tinker Bell, so we don't know who "the director(s)"were prior to Morril (if she really was directing) or even a director was before Lasseter and Raymond was attached to the project. But let's say these characters were just added as part of a pitched sequel project to the cancelled movie. Is "the trilogy" really a seperate project though?, perhaps having a need for a separation in the article or a seperate article altogether that connects back perhaps is a question to ponder. I don't think we have information to make it a seperate article (I'm new to the wiki anyway), but it must be said these are rumored sequels/related projects to Tinker Bell- not said to be within the movie's cut because that's what we know

Also- There was at least a 2d version before it was made into a 3d project. I feel like with that, we can make estimations- on whether certain art was intended for 2d or 3d. But we can't say for certain. Only one version may be less linear like the Cinderella sequel, based on the quester's segments with Fawn and clarion giving the missions- that we have. And it says they were having story problems but we don't exactly know how the plot changed in the versions from around 2003-2006. I thought they all may have been loosely connected on Tinkerbell making a grand error that puts fairy kind in danger, and having to repair it- at the very least that is the main plotline that we know of. Yet there are some concept art that cannot be explained, such as art of Tinker Bell and this monster creature (I think also by Spooner) and Sprite Island by Carol K. Police. I think the climatic parts of the story were not finished or fleshed out in the ring of belief plot point, so it may not be from an earlier story point

So unlike, say the Tangled article, there is less of a "okay here's this version and here's that version"

I found an article featurinv Mike Disa on the cancelled Snow White sequel/spinoff, who was moved to the story department on Tinker Bell that states information about Morril and this project:

Some people were brought on as "story".

Frank Nissen- Cinderella a Twist in Time for Animated Views

I think making a community Google Doc/sheetwill make organizing this stuff easier. I also found out a few names attached to the project which I can share later. Here also is my a piece of my lost media wiki thread about the Fawn and quest storyboards that were found and an article that has been archived in a Disney forum:

this is just gonna be me bsing about the pixie chicks because I’m bored

in an old archived article it states that there was supposed to be a movie where tinks friend falls in love, he dies and the girl goes to a fairy band referred to as the pixie chicks and it looks like it goes with the brain freeze Entertainment storyboards

But completely unrelated to that is the bonus dvd that was supposed to release with the TB movie

These are different from the others as they don’t seem to include any other characters than the 3 girls

now what’s weird about the “If you Believe” short is that it was produced by Attitude Studios in 2007 in France unlike Ring of belief being done in India

Attitude Studios worked on mainly motion capture projects like Renaissance (2006) and video games which is why I find it weird they did the bonus short

but there’s not only the bonus dvd itself but the test shots of the girls

I’ve been slacking recently so i haven’t found any new clips of them but I’ve at least made a list of people who should have worked on this short

The ❌s mean I’ve emailed them and they either had nothing or didn’t respond

this will be the death of me