#and how those ultimately were done to further the lie

[semi-sempiternal]

Sometimes i think about how at the end of the donghua for mdzs they put jiang cheng in seclusion. While on one hand he wouldnt on the other i can understand the choice to do so. Not only has he been lied to by the closest person to him (golden core) he's also been deceived by the world at large, i.e jgy's entire scheme. Everything and i mean everything he knew to be fundmentally true was shattered and how can you trust anything after that? How can you begin to reconcile the fact that the world as you knew it was false, that essentially your entire life has been a lie I also would just shut down and not be able to face the world after that

[lightlycareless]

because why not. I crave a highschool au with naoya. warnings: highschool au. suguru and satoru being annoying af.

Thinking about that one scene where Gojo and Geto are talking about the former’s phone wallpaper, how he just changed it to model Inoue Waka, and in the English dub, calls her hot.

Let’s say that for a moment you manage to overhear a similar conversation while in jujutsu high. The two of them essentially comparing wallpapers of the women they consider “hottest” and what not.

It causes you to grow both insecure, because yes, even when they were insufferable jerks, they weren’t lying when saying that the women they had on their phones are what many consider hot—words you wouldn’t usually describe yourself with, less believe anyone else thought of you.

And curious, because your seemingly one-sided crush on Naoya leads you to wonder if he has the same… habit of putting pictures of women he liked, or at least found attractive, on his home screen, and what it meant for your feelings if that were the case.

So, you take on the mission of getting a glance at Naoya’s phone, which surprisingly ended up being the hardest task you had yet to complete that semester—and all because he was super defensive of his items, especially his cellphone!

Even for the silliest, dumbest type of excuses, like “I need to make a call and I have no service, can I borrow your phone?” does not make him budge.  He just says no to whatever you come up with, and it makes your intrigue grow bigger and bigger the more he denies you!

What is he hiding? Contrary to Satoru and Suguru, is he ashamed of having pictures like that on his phone?

Or maybe…

Does he have those kinds of pictures instead??

Oh, this is even worse than you imagined! Because not only is Naoya wholeheartedly interested in other women, completely different from you—he’s also a big pervert!!

If so, how disappointing… but at the same time, you had no proof to call this as the truth so… you’d continue trying to figure out who he had on his home screen.

And then, the day you found out who held the special place of his phone’s wallpaper finally arrived.

It happened so uneventfully too, probably through the dumbest reasons yet, but you’re not to complain if it gave you the results you sought after.

The way you obtained a glimpse of Naoya’s wallpaper ultimately was because Gojo stole his phone just for that. Yeah. It was that easy. Perhaps you should’ve asked him for help from the very beginning, although the thought of telling him why you needed Naoya’s phone quickly reminded you that you had done right in avoiding him.

 “Changed your home screen again?” Geto asks, looking over to Gojo’s phone, who was quick to show off his screen with a cheeky grin, affirming his observation.

“Newest catalogue—hot, right?”

“If you say so” Naoya says under his breath, seemingly annoyed by their lack of taste or perhaps the crude topic when there were a thousand things more interesting that women (as if he hadn’t done that before).

He intended his comment to be kept solely to himself, but to the troublemakers Suguru and Satoru, this was anything but loud and clear.

“What, don’t think she’s up to your standards?” Satoru would instigate, making the young heir not precisely retract his words, but rather act like he was hearing things.

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, I heard what you say—think you’re above Inoue-chan?”

Naoya cringes at the familiarity in which Satoru refers to a model, of all people…

“I don’t even know her” Naoya rolls his eyes, feigning indifference and hoping to move past this conversation, but it’s well known that once Satoru sets his eyes on a victim, it’s very difficult, if not impossible, to escape his grasps. Naoya marked his fate the moment he joined their conversation.

“Ah, now that’s a lie if I ever heard one” Satoru counters. “So what, don’t have anyone on your phone? Too good for that, hm?”

“What does it matter to you?” he snaps, and this just seems to fuel Satoru even further.

“Then you leave me no choice.”

“What are you—”

With unmatched speed, as expected of the Gojo heir, Satoru grabs Naoya’s arms as his most trusted accomplice understands what’s expected of him and reaches for his pocket, taking out his cell phone.

The look in Naoya’s eyes is one you’d never forget, one that almost made you jump between the two and demand them to leave him alone—but your curiosity was getting the best of you, so you allowed them to continue with their brutish ways. Besides, you intended to console him after getting your answers, just as you always did whenever he felt down, so maybe it wasn’t that… bad…?

“Hey—HEY!” Naoya yelps, tugging and throwing against Satoru’s hold, exhorting his very best to get his phone back—but to no avail, for he could never, no matter the circumstance, beat the strongest sorcerers. That much he should know now. “Give it back!”

“Damn—what the hell do you have in that phone? Porn or something?” Satoru snickers at his reaction, looking back to Suguru. “Just open it already, I want to know who the talented Naoya has as wallpaper.”

You swallow as the anticipation slowly began to kill you.

The moment you were waiting for, the one that made you put in so much effort but always fell short no matter what you did, finally arrived.

It was only a question of lifting the screen and looking at it for your greatest desire (that week, at least) to be granted.

Having curiosity of his own, especially after Naoya’s defensive behavior, Geto hastily grasps the screen by the edges and begins to flip it open.

You swear Suguru was teasing you given the way he slowly opened the phone (he didn’t—you just felt it that way) making your heart jump to your throat, ears ringing while anxiously waiting for Naoya’s secret to finally unveil itself!

Only for your heart to sink down to your stomach when Suguru’s face twists into one of confusion, perhaps even… disgust?

You tried your hardest to not jump and ask what he saw, appear as if you weren’t closely listening to their conversation and give away your interest in Naoya, but his reaction and silence just made it impossible, and without much resistance, you quickly succumb to your curiosity.

“What is—” is all that you manage to muster before Satoru’s shriek quiets you immediately.

“Huh?!” Gojo exclaims “You have her?!”

Who is it?

Who does Naoya have on his phone screen??

Is it someone you know?? Does he like her? No—Does he like that?!?!

IS SHE NAKED as you initially thought??!?!

Aside from the last question, it was safe to say that Naoya did like her, because it was none other than—

“Asuka, from Evangelion?” Suguru asks skeptically, looking back to Naoya, almost as if he didn’t believe his eyes.

“What, got a problem with that??” Naoya frowns, beyond irritated and embarrassed at this point. Satoru releases him.

“None—only that I didn’t think of you as an otaku!” Satoru snorted. “Who would’ve thought that the great heir of the Zen’in liked anime?! How embarrassing!”

“You’re not any better” Suguru murmurs.

“Give me that!” Naoya hisses, abruptly taking the phone out of Suguru’s hands—the latter giving up the item willingly. “And of course you’d laugh, your taste in everything is shit! You wouldn’t know what was good even if it hit you!”

“That’s not true” Satoru smirks “I like anime too—Digimon, you know?”

“Yeah, no one cares.” Naoya frowns, abruptly standing up from his desk and heading towards the exit, presumably to cool off, take out his frustrations in some way, or save himself from further humiliation.

And that was it—you managed to discover who he had on his phone.

As much as you felt bad that Naoya was essentially forced to disclose that fact, you were kind of elated that you got the answer you searched for, and subsequently, knew what it meant for your feelings towards him.

In other words, you had no… physical competition, per say. He could just like that character because she’s funny, cool, or something else, not because he had actual feelings for her!

You can’t help but smile at this thought, for it gave you the clearance you needed to keep harboring feelings for him—although… would he like you better if you knew who she was? Was she from his favorite anime? If so, you had lots of work to do.

For now, you can relax knowing he didn’t like someone from school. At least until he likes you back, of course.

Oh, but if you only knew that he didn’t have Asuka in the beginning.

No, he had someone else entirely, only changing his home screen once he caught up to your intentions, not wanting to show you either—glad he had done so right before Satoru and Suguru got the idea of joining your little crusade (A thing you’d had to clear up if ever given the chance to.)

Maybe you’ll figure out who it was in time. Maybe not. Only fate, and his efforts, can decide that.

But until then, he’ll keep the fact that he had you, as his wallpaper, a secret.

Naoya is a nerd. prove me wrong.

[sepublic]

I’ve seen Dana say they got news of the shortening before writing Follies at the Coven Day Parade, but I’ve also heard that Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door was the first episode they wrote after learning about the shortening. I’m inclined to believe Dana, or perhaps the three prior episodes were already written, but then rewritten in response to the news.

If K3oHD is the threshold, then it’s fitting that so many developments occur for our core trio, like going back to basics. It sets the tone for how the rest of the show is essentially a speedrun of the original plans, with some things still needing to be left out to make room for what’s an abridged version of plans. It’s like the first episode of the new, compact version of TOH the writers had to do; Just as the show’s first episode was about the trio.

This does make me wonder how long it would’ve taken for Lumity to get together, for Harpy Eda to happen, and for King to unlock his roar if it weren’t for the shortening. What was s2e8 supposed to be like, what did the writers initially have in mind? Would it have still followed the same format of the previous season’s eight episode, with three plots for each member of the LEK trio?

As it stands, for how packed and efficient the episode is it still works; People still thought it was normal, same for Eclipse Lake and Yesterday’s Lie. That could point to what Dana said. I guess part of it is that we just see S2A as one batch, so it feels right to assume it was done that way and the shortening only began to take effect with S2B’s first episode, Follies at the Coven Day Parade.

I can see the Raeda breakup flashback still occurring because happening right after the episode we see Raine, and getting further context to Eda and Raine’s dynamic there, feels fitting; A way to add to the tragedy of Raine having to be left behind… Speaking of, knowing the shortening happened right after Eda’s Requiem makes me wonder if the bindings Kikimora placed on Raine were originally meant to have more relevance, but were left as one-note because of the shortening?

Whether it’s ER or K3oHD that it changed, would Raine have been actually brainwashed? Or just outright incapacitated before the writers decided they did not have time to do that AND have Raine return and do things, it’s one or the other. Maybe Darius and Eberwolf were genuine enemies in that episode, and would’ve had an arc during the show’s run of becoming rebels; But since storylines had to be downsized or even removed, this was ‘skipped’ by having it retroactively be the case from the start. And with them, you can at least believe they were always on the same side, whereas an abuser like Alador would have to be addressed because it’s not some one-off misunderstanding.

Man; This being the break, the dividing line, it makes you look differently on either episode on either side of that writing threshold. How they were both changed, one in hindsight and the other in the writing process, to reflect how they’re the transition between different phases of the show. In the end, it’s the same never ending list of questions and What-ifs that will haunt us over TOH, some reasoned inferences and a few confirmations, but ultimately no answers unless we kidnap the writers and make them talk or course.

And even they wouldn’t know fully how the show would’ve turned out in another timeline, because they were still figuring that out and how to fill in and organize the broad strokes when the cancellation arrived and they had to fight for the S3 specials. Because without those the ending would’ve felt very rushed and/or we would’ve missed out on a lot of the buildup and other arcs on the way there, which would also feel extra rushed if not absent. Alas…

Reminds me of how shortly after the cancellations news came, Dana admitted in a 2020 Reddit AMA that writing for S2 was fun, that putting together plot lines was like ‘weaving threads’. Considering how so many things have to come together so efficiently and converge, I can see what she meant. Dana did acknowledge that working within limitations proved to be fun in some ways, and gave the show things it otherwise may not have gotten (such as the Collector); She even planned a separate Choose Your Adventure project based on the audience’s input for her Patreon, before Dana had to cancel it to focus on her career.

[rollercoasterwords]

ugh!!! different anon but i just read your thoughts about everything r is thinking and feeling and i canttttt, and it also hurts bc from s perspective, the feelings and developments he thought they had for so long were a ruse!! so on both sides we have them fighting their feelings and denying the reality of their connection :(((

one follow up question i have is, how does r (and really the whole gang) reconcile this initial distrust and subsequent shock (that s is Becoming Good) with the existence of reg? bc like on the one hand yes s represents so much evil shit to them, has done so much evil shit, but his redeemed brother is right there as well. so i’m curious about how these characters marry those feelings

yeah <3 i mean 2 clarify it's not so much that r thought s was like. actively tricking him like he believes what s was feeling was real too it's just that s knew before they kissed etc. that he was going 2 be obliviating himself so the idea that those feelings could become something was, at that point, a lie, and that's where r feels betrayed.

and that's an interesting question!! re: reg (and re: s) all 3 of them have v different perspectives. like for james reg chose on his own 2 betray voldemort, and even tho reg kinda dismisses the idea that he was rebelling 4 some noble reason etc james still like...kinda gives him that credit & sees him as someone who organically came 2 this position that was at least somewhat aligned w the values & goals of the order, whereas s did not do that; hence, james cuts him way less slack. s was also a lot more active in the d.e. & actively harming order members + allies in ways that reg was not, which also makes james like him less to begin with. but james has also grown up pretty separated from broader society, so even tho the d.e. have always been his enemies, he hasn't been like...quite as subjected 2 their reign in his daily life the same way r has, and bc james has been raised as like a soldier in a war he views voldemort as his ultimate enemy & the d.e. as like enemy soldiers, so there's overall less of like...this personal hatred 4 them as individuals. which makes it easier 4 him 2 accept that people like reg & s can grow & change if they demonstrate they're willing 2 side w the order + work towards order goals.

for lily a lot of this is similar 2 james--she views reg as having made his own decision 2 leave the d.e. + s as being forced, so trusts him less 2 begin with, etc. but lily, unlike james, has spent even less time actually like...directly interacting w d.e. like she's spent most of her time in order bases + hq working behind the scenes on potions etc, so she's even further removed from the personal aspect of all this & has an easier time accepting that both s + reg can become good people (tho at first she dislikes reg bc james is tutoring him + flirting w him lmao). lily also sees a lot more gray area than james, who tends 2 view the world in black & white terms (if you're fighting for the d.e. ur bad, if you're fighting for the order ur good, etc). for lily, everyone has the capacity 4 both good & evil, and a person's life is largely shaped by conditions outside their control, so her worldview + relative distance from the whole conflict makes it easier for her 2 accept that reg + s can change.

but remus has grown up as a werewolf under voldemort's government for most of his life, not in order bases, and so he has a very acute sense of the ways in which individuals make up + perpetuate these systems of violence, and is not particularly forgiving towards them even if he recognizes that yes, people can change and yes, that's probably a good thing--it doesn't undo the hurt they've done and it doesn't mean he's going to forgive them. this is why r + reg aren't friends, even tho lily + james are friends w both of them; r didn't really like reg from the start & basically just avoided him as much as he could, which wasn't hard bc he was out doing work 4 the order + reg was working in potions labs w lily. so even tho r could recognize that like, ok i guess it's good we got a reformed d.e. working 4 us, he never had 2 go through like a personal struggle of actually feeling friendly towards the guy & basically just kept disliking him lol. so not only does he already hold these grudges (understandably!), he also doesn't think of evil in the same way as the others--whereas james views voldemort, the figurehead of this entire system, as the Ultimate Evil, and lily can understand how people born into these violent systems would perpetuate them but thinks that's usually more from being misguided than ill intent, remus views this as a structural issue in which people like s, who (from r's pov when they first meet) think of themselves as generally 'good' people, still justify their role in these systems of violence because it benefits them, which is much more insidious and infuriating than someone like voldemort, who is just pretty straightforwardly a Bad Guy. and that's what i mean when i say r views s of representative of like, everything wrong w society--bc the vast majority of people in society are like s, who view themselves as good people and blame all (or at least most of) the bad on figureheads like voldemort without recognizing their own role in structural violence. and his whole relationship w s & feelings for him just make it way more difficult 4 him to watch s change + grow & to accept that that's possible, even though, theoretically, he should want it 2 be possible, bc there's this more personal level of pain...someone who views themself as a good person hurts u & u want 2 go "hey!! ur not a good fucking person!!" but then they actually become a good person (or at least a better one) so then what do u do w that hurt, y'know?

anyway. this got v long but yeah have actually spent quite a bit of time thinking about these 3 characters & how their different worldviews + experiences shape their attitudes towards the black brothers!

[deceptive-daydreams]

The Under-Ground (18+ ONLY)

Chapter Five - Hot Chocolate

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - "I go back to December all the time" - Back to December by Taylor Swift

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

8K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, mentions of drugs and drinking, drug dealing, allusions to mental illness, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: This was a hard one to write and get everything laid out correctly I'm not gonna lie but we are getting there!!

Masterlist

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“Roadkill”

Such a simple and–to be honest–gross word held such heaviness and uncertainty.  A new meaning you’d dare to even suggest in the back of your brain.  

Neutrality?  

No.  

Surrender?  

Couldn’t be.  

Pity?

Quite possibly.  

The man was pitying you and at the expense of your involuntary vulnerability.  You weren’t sure what was worse, him being so cruel to you for years and years after the night he ultimately made a decision—a decision that severed ties and forced you to build walls taller than one could believe—or the fact that he was feeling sorry for you because your best friend was willingly engaging with the enemy, which happened to be him and that made the atmosphere that much more sinister.

How could he venture as far to think that a damn cup of coffee would provide you any comfort?  If that was even his intention.  Maybe it was poisoned.  Cutting you out of everyone’s lives so him and Steve could continue whatever it was they were doing.  No, your thoughts were becoming unrealistic and to be honest, even with how exhausted you’d been the night before, you were restless, tossing and turning all the way into the early hours of the morning when you could just make out the faint hustling and bustling of Hawkins’ early risers.  Sleep wasn’t as kind to you anymore and you couldn’t remember the last time that it was.  

An inner monologue of push and pull threw off your rhythm, suddenly glued to the floor as you’re forced into the spiraling void–it almost felt like you were sixteen again at this moment, just as you did the previous night.  It felt bitter, more than likely resembling the steaming liquid in the cup before you.  Utterly bitter.  How could something once so sweet and innocent become so vile and foul?  Devastatingly horrid.  It was mocking you, that stupid little cup.  Chanting over and over that you had nothing left meanwhile he would remain unchanged, untouched, and unbothered.  

And within your seconds of insanity, you missed the whispers of Steve and Robin just outside of the room until they made themselves known.  Robin’s piercing blue irises held such remorse as they looked into yours but you offered no solace.  Her eyes rimmed with smudged black eyeliner and fingers trembling as they toyed with the string of her apron clutched in the other hand revealed that she was a nervous wreck.  Then again, so were you and you were the one with all odds against you, not her.  If she wasn’t the instigator she was the bystander, comfortable in your cluelessness until now.  

Then there was Steve.  Quiet, uncharacteristically quiet.  Head bowed as if he were a child being sent to his room while he tossed his apron over an empty chair.  The stillness in the room was discomforting and you weren’t going to settle for another second of it.  With work to be done and bills to be paid, you refused to let them take up any more of your valuable time.  If they had anything further to say, you weren’t listening, swiping your phone from the table top and brushing past the two of them, only leaving them with a small breeze as you passed.  The cup that had haunted you those few moments sat neglected on the crumby surface of the table.

The sight of Eddie preparing a coffee as you rounded the corner had you internally groaning.  Now you’d be forced to face whatever sick game he was playing at.  You wouldn’t engage in it but would he be smart enough to lay off?  To your surprise a customer had been waiting patiently next to the to-go counter despite the weather just outside becoming more horrific by the minute.  It was pouring, water smashing against the pavement with no mercy and as Eddie handed the small piping hot coffee to an older man in a well worn denim jacket and what seemed to be some navy coveralls underneath, the man tipped his head at you with a friendly grin to which you returned the favor.  

“You didn’t go on and put all that fancy syrupy stuff in it, right?”  The man grumbled at Eddie, narrowing his eyes.

“No, old man.  Now get outta my shop.”  Eddie rolled his eyes which in turn pulled an astonished gasp from you.  What you failed to catch was the way his face contorted into a grin and how the man chuckled as you began repairing the damages.

“Eddie!”  You scolded before returning your attention back to the man who seemed way too calm.  “Sir, I’m so sorry–”

“Darlin’ don’t go gettin’ yourself all upset.  My nephew ‘ere was just clowning around.”  The man’s voice was deep and a bit gravelly but welcoming nevertheless.

“Nephew…”  You pondered.

“Wayne.  Wayne Munson.”  He introduces himself, sticking his hand out over the counter to properly greet you to which you accept.  

His hand is rough, no doubt showcasing a labor intensive job that he seemed to have either come from or was just heading off to.  Gracefully giving him your name as he shakes your hand, you notice a few similarities between the two men.  You can’t quite put your finger on which features they share but they’re there aside from the bright blue eyes Wayne possesses, a stark contrast to Eddie’s deep coffee colored eyes.

“Listen, don’t let Ed ‘ere drink too much sugar.  Kid is a fiend for the stuff.”  There’s a playful gleam in Wayne’s eyes, his lips pursed in an effort to keep from laughing, a smile pulling at your lips in return.  “Swear he’s a sucker for those frap milkshake things.  He comes over to my place with more energy than the tasmanian devil–”

“Pops.”  Eddie glares at his uncle and there seems to be an understanding as he begins backing up toward the door, humor written on his face.

“It was nice meetin’ you.  Eddie ever gives you any problems you come ‘n get me.  I’ll set ‘m straight, don’t you worry.”  You can’t help but giggle at Wayne’s words and at this moment in time, it's as if Eddie isn’t some opponent but rather an old friend.  It was strange but you shook it off immediately.

“Thank you Mr. Munson.”  It was all you could say as he began to embark back into the cold rain.

“Sure, honey.  Son, you behave.”  He gave Eddie a stern point of his finger as his nephew waved.  “Oh and don’t go racin’ that damn bike around in this rain.  Supposed to get a bit of floodin’ so take the back way home.  Slow.  Hear me?”

“Uh huh, got it.”  Eddie replies as if he’s a teenager who thinks he knows better, a sigh falling from his lips.  “Get outta here Pops, you’re gonna be late.” 

With one last raise of his brow, Wayne was suddenly gone and you could just barely see him rush out to what appeared to be his truck, keeping as dry as possible.

The energy had shifted the moment he left and you were ready to put Eddie in a chokehold if you could.  An accidental slam of the back door notified you that Robin and Steve opted to go out the back, your head snapping in the direction of the noise only to quickly shift back to the man in front of you who was now counting out some change from the tip jar.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Relax, you’ll thank me later.”

“Oh-thank you?  No, put that back.”  You reached for the coins only to be bumped out of the way by Eddie’s hip.  He hadn’t even completely finished training and he was acting like he ran the place.

“Munson, if you don’t–”  You’re unable to finish your thought as you catch on to his intentions.  The register opened and he pulled out in cash what was represented by the change, tossing each coin into its respective spot and then shoving the cash into the tip jar, finishing off by shutting the register and turning to you with a smirk.

“Ta da.  Unless you would rather take the change.  You’re not one of those annoying people who pays in all quarters are you?”  It’s unbelievable, the way you have to hold back a laugh.  A genuine laugh that he spurred on out of nowhere.  But you manage to remain unbothered.  At least you think so.

“No.”  You answer, arms crossed, earning a breathy laugh from him as he continued to lean over the counter.

And then it was silent.  Only the violent patter of rain on the windows and the faint jazz playing through the speakers filling in the gaps.  The lights casted a comfortable glow among the shop and Eddie continued to check off items on his training checklist placed in front of him.  You could bathe in the absence of his voice except you insisted on keeping it chaotic and you didn’t understand why.

“Why’d you do it?”  Well you only had yourself to blame if this blew up and turned into another argument after you insisted that this would be a night of avoidance, just work.  No talking.  No trying to reason.  That motive went down the drain the second you dared to ask the question.

His head snapped up from his current task, looking up at you curiously as he was still bent over the list.  Brown curls draped over the paper and you should tell him to pull his hair back but you don’t.  You figure it’s because you’re too occupied in being mad at him but something is telling you that the way they fall in front of his face is far too perfect.  

“Do what?”

Everything.  Everything that led us here.

“Hook up with Steve.”

A glance down at the pen he was using and a click of his tongue later he provides a response.

“Think that’s something you need to take up with Steve.”  He decides.

It’s not the answer you’re looking for and you both know it.  A shaky exhale leads him to believe that this isn’t something you’re going to drop, your eyes glassy as they stare directly into his.

“Stop it.”  A frown is now etched onto your face, the kind that you can’t control because you know you’re about to cry and you’re just trying to hold back.

“Stop what?”  He’s well aware he needs to stop playing dumb.  That he needs to man up and accept responsibility for everything because truly, all of this traces back to him.  But he is his father’s son.  At least that’s what he always chalks it up to.

“Stop trying to divert me to Steve.”  A single tear wins and escapes down your cheek only for you to rapidly wipe it away, sniffling back the others that were building up.  You were not going to cry again.  “You hurt me just as much and you’re the one with the reputation.”

The statement stung because it was true.  It burned like salt in a wound and all Eddie knew was that sting over and over again and again.  It was the story of his life.  With you.  With his childhood.  His adolescence.  He had reputation after reputation and he couldn’t seem to stop making a foul name for himself, further proving to everyone what a delinquent he was.  Except there was one person throughout all of it that never once fed into that narrative.

–

The Previous Night, Eddie’s Trailer

The slam of the fridge door and the sound of a fresh beer being cracked open wasn’t an uncommon sound within the Munson trailer.  Or at least what is now Eddie’s very own trailer just a few down from the one he grew up in which now only housed Wayne.  Metal blared from the speakers in the confined living room that practically shared the kitchen if you took a few more steps.  Slumping down on the beaten up couch, Eddie cursed under his breath as he sat on a pencil wedged in between the cushions, more than likely from a DND session last week.  This was his daily ritual but somehow it was different.  Angrier.  Soul-stirring.

He should go to sleep, the clock on the outdated stove read 11:00 PM which in theory isn’t very late however he would despise himself in the morning for not cherishing his sleep as he worked at the garage at 7:00 AM with bags hanging from his face.  But even if he did lay down, two beers in his system to aid him in place of melatonin, it would be no use and he would remain in the solitude of his trailer wide awake.  Tonight it was particularly bad due to the events that transpired earlier.  Steve asking him to hook up again and him accepting even though he knows he shouldn’t, it would only fuel his disaster of a life.  That’s what he told himself and as it turns out he was right.  But what kept replaying in his mind and plaguing every thought was the way you cupped your face in your hands for that brief second before disappearing around the corner to your apartment.  The look of despair in your eyes when he told you to get out.  He was a self destructive force that should never be unleashed upon anyone and yet he let the fallout ruin everything and ultimately, unleashed it upon you all this time.

As he remained a lump on the couch, he thought about how he couldn’t keep doing this anymore.  Be miserable.  Be the reason for your hatred.  He didn’t want to do it anymore and that’s what he told himself every time but without fail he sabotaged every good thing that ever happened to him.

So when Wayne receives a specific combination of knocks at his door at 11:05 PM while enjoying a night off watching old western movies, he knows either his nephew got locked out of his own trailer again or he needed him.  And when the door swings open to reveal a choked up Eddie with damp hair from the rain, Wayne just knows.

“What’s wrong, son?”  

Eddie doesn’t need permission to enter yet he remains at the doorstep, rain collecting on his eyelashes as he looks at his uncle with large lost eyes.

“C’mon, get inside.  You’re gonna get soaked out there.”

Wayne tugs on the sleeve of Eddie’s black sweater, not roughly, just enough to lure him into the warmth of the trailer.  Enough to keep him out of the rain.

“What happened, son?”  Wayne tries again.

There’s a distant look in his nephew’s eyes as he stands in the middle of the living room, and before Wayne can assess the damages and figure out what might be troubling him this time, Eddie interrupts.

“Why am I–why–am I–the way I am?”  The words don’t come out easily and it's as though he’s still searching for more to say.  “Why is there so much–wrong with me?”

There is no way to explain the twist in Wayne’s stomach.

“Why–why do I act like him?”

No explanation is needed when he says it.  Wayne just knows.

“Ed, quit that.”  It’s not said unkindly but rather in an attempt to steer him from those thoughts.

“No!  Why do I keep becoming more and more like him?”  The question is genuine, he just wants to know and though Wayne won’t have an answer, he still can’t help but ask.  His eyes are burning with unshed tears and all that flashes through his mind are images of you from earlier in the night.

“Son, you listen to me.”  Wayne’s hands grip Eddie’s shoulders, firmly but reassuring, his blue eyes wide with empathy.  An old western movie continues to play in the background, long forgotten in his nephew’s sudden need.  

“Who made you think that?”

Eddie wants to sink in on himself, become dirt and just blow away in the wind.  He’s so sick of this constant cycle.  He acts out, makes people hate him, pushes them away, and then turns to self loathing time and time again.  It was old, he’d admit that.  But he couldn’t stop, it felt like it was embedded in his DNA at this point.  And every time Wayne would be there to gather him up and still treat him with dignity even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Me!”  He shouts, hands running through his hair anxiously.  “I-I can’t stop.”  A sob is held back until after he weakly repeats himself.  “I can’t stop.”

Wayne doesn’t hesitate to pull him in and hold him close, letting him cry into his shoulder.  And if that’s all he needed then that would be fine.  But Wayne would give him the world and he wasn’t sure if Eddie quite knew that despite showing him over and over.  Before Wayne can run his hand down his back in an effort to comfort him, Eddie is pulling away again.

“She hates me.  I hate me.”  Eddie’s ringed hand reaches up to collect some fallen tears, trying to regain a fraction of his composure.

“Who?”

“Who do you think?”

“Ed, is this still about that girl from high school who works at the coffee place with you?”  Wayne sighs, running a hand over his sparse hair.

All he receives in response is a nod.  A sad and defeated nod.

“Well, it don’t help much that you won’t tell me what happened between you back then.”  His uncle gives him an apologetic shrug.  Suddenly gun shots sounded from the TV, cowboys shouting over them throughout the living room, urging Wayne to grab the remote and select mute.

“Wayne–”

“Look, all I know is you keep saying you did somethin’ pretty bad.  Not bad enough to tell me I guess, but is it bad enough that you’re both so bent out of shape ‘bout it this many years later?”

Eddie tries to come up with an answer but Wayne continues, doesn’t even give him a chance.

“And if it is that bad, why don’t you man up and apologize?  Why you givin’ this girl so much damn grief over a mistake made by a damn stupid teenager?”  Wayne finishes with a finger to Eddie’s chest.  He knows his nephew fragile right now but he’s tired of hearing vague details about him and this supposed girl that he can’t let go of because he ‘fucked up a really good thing really bad’.  And how they apparently can’t stand each other to this day.  He finds that maybe this time Eddie needs some tough love.

“Because I’m just like him, isn’t that why?”  Eddie seems to try and make sense of it himself, his features contorted into uncertainty as his brows draw together.

His uncle stares in disbelief, knowing better than anyone that Eddie is nothing like his father.  Not by any means.  Eddie has always been a timid boy hidden underneath a loud and outspoken exterior harboring more complications than the typical kid.  Sure he seemed to let his anger get the best of him at times but in no way did he release it in ways only his dad could.  At most he’d snap, say something a bit mean but he’d always come back and apologize.

“You aren’t.  Quit spewing that shit.  You know you aren’t.”  While the remark may seem harsh, his tone carries compassion.

“No I don’t.”  Eddie hates himself for whimpering like a kicked puppy.  “She thinks I’m some monster and I haven’t given her any reason not to think that.  I just keep pushing it until-until I make her upset or-or cry.”  Chest heaving, Eddie sits on the edge of the couch, the bridge of his nose pinched in between his fingers as he works to control his breathing.  “She’s right though.  I am a monster.”

“Boy, you’re no monster.”  Wayne settles next to his nephew, knees cracking and joints groaning beneath him.  “And you ain’t like your dad.  Not one bit.  Never were.  Think you just need to learn to control yourself when you get riled up.  And let good things happen to you.”

The advice resonates but Eddie is still prone to self sabotage so he’s not sure how to keep himself from digging himself into holes like he’s a dog having a hay day.  He’s not even sure he’ll ever have a chance at declaring a truce with you.  That ship seems to have sailed long ago.

“I don’t think I know how to.”  He admits, voice wavering like a terrified child.

“Well, then at least you know the problem, right?  Take that and learn.”  Wayne was always pretty straight forward and in a sense, it was very grounding.  No bullshit, just the truth.  “And if you care ‘bout someone, and it seems you care a whole lot ‘bout this girl, don’t you think it’d be better to own up to your mistakes and make nice?”

It’s so simple yet so difficult.  Yes, he wants to make nice.  It’s all he wants.  But he’s made himself into some kind of villain, feeding your depiction of him as some heartless asshole who only thrives on bloodshed.  But ultimately his uncle was right and he knew that before he’d even said anything but sometimes, it takes the right time and the right place for things to click.

–

Present day

“You hurt me just as much and you’re the one with the reputation.”

There Eddie stood, wanting to fume with anger, craving the adrenaline of just lashing out because it’s what he knew best.  But he couldn’t be that guy anymore.  It was miserable and lonely and it just wasn’t fair.  The fact that his uncle made an appearance only further encouraged him that he shouldn’t live in his self hatred, that he should man up and do the right thing.  Even after so long.  Even if it was too late.  And he had a slight suspicion that Wayne’s visit was calculated.

A nervous tongue poked out to lick his chapped lips, gaze darting between your eyes and your fingers now fidgeting with a pen, clicking it repeatedly.  Any other time he’d tell you to knock it off.  You were growing uneasy at his mellow demeanor, not used to seeing his face so relaxed, always familiar with his furrowed eyebrows and pupils that contained a fire, frown usually engraved into his face with you around.

“I know.”

Two words created a disturbance in the air, the nature of it still unknown as two minds considered the weight it carried.  The most shocking component of it all was that he didn’t appear as if he was internally searching for an out, scrambling to take his words back and replace them with something awful.  There was no evidence of backtracking from sentimental words, no sign of reversing and throwing it right back in your face.

I know.

What was the true scheme behind it all?

I know.

Was he admitting to his wrong doings?

“What do you mean you know?”  You try to force him to clarify but before he can even provide any further information your mind screams at you to keep questioning.  “And what the hell was that in the break room?”  It’s said with such defense, walls up and ready to protect your delicate heart.  “What are you playing?  Is this some kind of sick fucking game?  Again?”

Had he really fucked up your perception of him so bad that you were standing before him swirling into insanity at the premise of him taking the first step and acknowledging his mistakes?  Millions of words tug at his tongue but none of them make it out as you storm into the back and he’s sure he’s just made the situation that much worse.  Maybe things were beyond repair, he was naive to think that there was any chance of undoing even a fraction of the destruction he caused.

Of course things were beyond repair, he’d be an idiot to think there was redemption somewhere on the horizon.  Even if it was millions of miles away at least it would have been there.  He supposes he only has himself to blame.  No.  He does only have himself to blame.  Where was the change of heart though?  He was trying to add it all up.  Was there ever a change of heart even?  Or was it always the same feelings disguised, creating an armor that only managed to hurt others?  And now he was growing out of it, realizing that he couldn’t hide forever, couldn’t watch himself be the man he was starting to become.  He had to stop being a boy.  A stupid emotionally stunted boy.  His past didn’t grant him a pass to treat others how he’s treated them.  Though he couldn’t just patch things up, he could sure as hell try and learn from his mistakes and use that to his advantage.

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been in his head when you come racing out from the back, familiar coffee cup in hand and face twisted in disgust.  It’s shoved into his line of sight, the black ink spelling out the letters just inches from him, your hand shaking the beverage as some sloshes out of the little hole in the lid and nestles a fat drop onto your thumb.

“What is this!?”  You shout, practically begging for an explanation.

“What is what?  It’s a drink!”  He’s forced to stand straight at your insistence.

It catches you off guard, the way that there’s no sarcasm laced in his response.

“Stop it.”  Again, you’re pleading with him but you’re not quite sure what for.  The drink trembles in your hand, still floating a bit too close to his face.

“Stop what?”

It’s as if you’re repeating the same conversation in circles, creating a tornado of confusion and heart ache.  Pulling at emotions and plucking them like the strings of a guitar.

“Dammit, Eddie!  God fucking damn it!  Why are you doing this?!”  You were crying again and you’d never forgive yourself for letting him see you cry so much within the past twenty four hours.

“Doing what?!  What am I doing?!”  There’s something lingering in his eyes, something sad, and his shoulders are slumped as if almost defeated.  This was not the man you argued with time after time and it was messing with your psyche.

“Tormenting me!  What the fuck is this?!”  Voice strained, you continue shoving the drink in his face.

The storm outside seems to agree with your outburst, only growing more intense with every one of your heightened emotions.  Eddie glances from you to the drink and then lands back on you, trying to approach the situation differently than he normally would on autopilot.  He assesses your exterior and gathers that you’re visibly distressed.  Shaking, tears streaming down your face, lip in between your teeth, gnawing on the skin.  How could he ever say such atrocious things to your face all those times if this was the result?  Granted, you didn’t allow him to see it and you always scurried off before you could provide any proof of damages left by his words.  And now here he is trying to breathe.  Trying so desperately to not say the wrong thing as he’s done so many times.  Trying not to react in the way that you’d expect him to.  He’s piecing your words together–tormenting.  Tormenting.  The cup just a hair away from his face continues shaking violently.  The writing on the cup.

Oh.

“So now you shut up?!  What is this?!  Cause I’m not understanding the mind fuck that is you and Steve and Robin and why I’m the butt of some gigantic joke that–”

“Hot chocolate.”  

Oh he really was a dumb boy at the root of it all.  Failing to realize that at the base of your agitation over a beverage was insecurity in the fact that it seemed no one was on your side and even the mere idea of the ‘enemy’ offering anything remotely resembling a peace offering was considered a threat.  The sadness in his eyes only grew at the sight of you before him and at the realization hitting him.  Your next word came out fatigued, breathy as if you’d finally given up on your vocal cords.

“What?”

Though there wasn’t a lot of bark behind your tone, your gaze mirrored everything.  How horrible he was.  How convoluted and fucked up everything had become over time.  Your eyes were portals he was looking into, seeing himself from past, present, and even future.  He didn’t like what he saw.

“I-uh, it’s–it’s hot chocolate.”  Eddie swallows hard, fingers nervously twisting his rings.  “You asked what it was.”

He swears you soften for the quickest second before tensing back up, slamming the cup onto the counter next to him which causes even more of the chocolatey substance to spill over onto the pristine dark granite.

“Munson, I’m gonna ask you one more time.”  You suck in a breath and he’s not sure how to gauge your emotion this time.

“What.  Is.  This?”  Your finger points at the writing scribbled on the cup.

Now it was really confirmed that he was a stupid boy.  And the way the corner of his mouth twitches upward only makes you fume, fists clenching at your side as you glare up at him.  He was really getting a kick out of this and you wanted to punch him.  Except something was off in the way his eyes glimmered, where there would usually be a touch of mischief, there was something unfamiliar, something kinder if you’d dare to even trek that far.  But you wouldn’t.  Couldn’t. 

“Roadkill.”  He mumbles more to himself than you, eyes focused on the cup.

“Are you fucking high?”  It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary to assume however he still turned his head with offense in his expression.  But he let it go.

“Roadkill.  You’re Roadkill, remember?”

“Stop it!”

You’re beginning to think he’s even more evil than you were led to believe in the first place.  Why was he toying with you?  Suddenly he’s facing you, gaze softer than you’ve seen in a long time.  There was a gravity to him, you felt like you had no choice but to let it pull you in.  That sweetness to him years ago was faint in the air and it felt as though you were clinging to it.  Clinging to something, anything that would let you feel tiniest bit normal again.

“No.”

No, what did he mean no?

“No?”  You keep yourself grounded in your inquiry, wading in the sweetness while still weary of your surroundings, your face remaining serious.

“You don’t tell me what to do.  I think we both know that by now.”  Usually the statement would be said with such malice and disgust but the attitude was absent from his tone and there was a trace of an authentic smile tugging at his lips, dimple almost visible.

You were in awe, why was it as though seventeen year old Eddie was standing before you again?  Why did it feel like your stomach was bubbling with giddyness like the teenage girl you once were?  This wasn’t right, it wasn’t in the script, at least, that’s how it felt.  No, this was a show of some kind.  If everyone was against you, Eddie would surely use it to his advantage.

And yet he stood there with round eyes and a subtle smile awaiting your response, any response.  All you could see was the boy with charming dimples and curly hair and it was ruining your current perception of him, even after all he’d done, all the damage he inflicted.  A heavy exhale released from your lungs and you seemed to snap out of your trance.

“I–um–I have to…”  You didn’t seem capable of finishing your thought as you stepped away, suddenly far more interested in cleaning the espresso machine.  That was fine by him.  If it meant he didn’t scare you off crying again then he would take it.  And while the bar was still on the floor, he was determined to raise it at your pace.  The vandalized cup remained atop the counter, a token of his new objective.

–

The Harrington House, December of Junior Year

“Steve, you are such a cockblock!”

“Nance, it was Eddie The Freak Munson!”

“Yeah, I’m gonna agree with Nancy here.  Total cockblock.”

The two girls nitpicked Steve’s approach to tear you away from Eddie’s hypnotics, claiming they’d never seen a look like that in your eyes ever before and yet Steve inserted himself which led you to excuse yourself to the bathroom as the two conducted a deal.  Once Steve had what he wanted, Eddie banished himself to the basement which you had caught just as you stepped out from the bathroom, now only seeing Nancy and Robin scolding Steve.  For what, you weren’t sure but it wasn’t abnormal so there wasn’t much thought to be put into it.

“Where’d Eddie go?”  You ask innocently, linking an arm with Robin as you try to make sense of the distaste on her and Nancy’s face.

“Basement.”  Steve shrugs, earning a more intense glare from your friends.

“I’m gonna go find him, he owes me a–”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  Steve’s hands find his hips, staring at you like a parent which only makes your blood boil.

You hated when he got like this, overprotective and over stepping into your private endeavors.  He was almost like a big brother, inheriting the position since freshman year.  At times it was welcomed but in circumstances like these you just wished he’d back off.  He and Eddie didn’t get along and Steve did little to hide his repulsion.  It was the classic jock versus outcast trope and it grew very old very fast.  Knowing how much you liked Eddie, he tried his best to keep his comments to himself but again, there wasn’t a lot of effort put forth.

“Steve.”  It didn’t take a genius to know that the way you seethed his name meant that he should excuse himself for a ‘time out’.

Mumbling your name, he tried one last time to reason with you.  “Anyone but Eddie Munson.  Please–”

“Steve.”

“He’s a lowlife, how’s that going to work out for you–”

“Steve!  Enough!”  Nancy reinserted herself, face tinting red.

“You really wanna go for a drug dealer?”  Steve continues, Nancy smacking his chest with her palm.

“Steve Harrington.  You quit it and you quit it right now.  How would you like it if they said the same thing about you when we got together?”

You were grateful for a friend like Nancy.  She seemed timid and shy at times but wasn’t afraid to put a man in his place.  You only wished you could possess that kind of power.  That seemed to shut Steve up, his lips forming a tight line as he glared toward the basement.

–

The air was stuffy and cloudy, skunky and smelled of tequila.  The basement included a toss up between the stoners in the corner and soon to be frat boys occupying the pool table.  They seemed to ignore each other and coexist just fine however you wouldn’t be surprised if every now and then a jock would intrude on them to poke and prod for some free weed.  Over exaggerated boyish yells erupted in the room, causing you to cover your ears.  A few girls lingered around, their boyfriends practically groping them in front of everyone but none of them sober enough to comprehend it.  The music booming upstairs trickled into the room but didn’t overpower it, the bass mainly taking over as it vibrated through the entire house.

The wood paneled walls should deem the basement outdated however Steve’s parents did well at keeping it feeling up to date and it almost didn’t feel like it was built in the 80’s.  It was dim, some multicolored lights decorating the molding at the very top of the walls and an overhead light hanging above the pool table that didn’t do a very good job at illuminating much, however it contributed enough for the party scene.  A frown pulled at your face as you searched around for Eddie but you had no success in finding the metalhead.  No shaggy curls in sight.

That is until the sliding door leading outside opens, pulling your attention toward it, answering your silent question of where Eddie had gone.  There he was, stepping inside with his signature black lunch box in hand, cheeks dusted pink from the biting cold outside.  Your heart couldn't seem to remain at a steady rhythm at the sight.  Although you’d just seen him minutes ago upstairs, he took your breath away all the same as when you first laid eyes on him across the room over the blaring music.  Tucking some cash into his front pocket, his eyes met yours, pausing his movements to grace you with an endearing smile that had your breath hitching.  You had no shame in sauntering up to him as he leaned against the door frame, the two of you nestled in the corner opposite of the group of stoners.

“Hey, you.”  You greet, cartoon hearts just about floating over your head.

“What’re you up to, trouble?”

“Me?  Trouble?”  Batting your eyelashes up at him, he was willingly in the palm of your hand.

“Yeah, you.  Most trouble I’ve ever seen.”  

There was a smirk playing on his features, charm dripping from his every word that only left you captivated.  His eyes were heavy but not due to substances.  If anyone were to pay any mind to the two of you, they’d see you were drunk off of each other.  No amount of pills or powder could create such an enchantment between two individuals, not like this.

“I could say the same about you.”  You say it so shyly, so quiet and yet he’s hanging on to every syllable.

“And you’d be right.”

“I–I was thinking–”  

Before you’re able to finish you shut yourself down, your sentence fading into nothing as the jocks behind you proceed to cause another uproar in their game of pool.  The smidge of confidence you had was gone.

“Thinking what?”  Eddie encourages.

“Oh, um.  Nothing, it’s nothing.”

A mischievous glint crosses his eyes as he leans toward you and if your nerves weren’t shot already then they definitely were now because his breath was fanning over your cheek and his distinct smell was invading your nose.  Something cinnamony and minty.  He was chewing gum, oh god he was chewing gum and he looked so hot while doing it.

“Did you come find ‘lil ‘ol me to smoke?”  Those big beautiful brown eyes swirled in honey hues remained heavy, lashes creating perfect shadows over the apples of his cheeks.  His eyelids were lazy but in the way that he was comfortable and dazed in this one vision, his sole focus on the way that you brought your finger up to toy with your lip nervously.

“Well I–I mean only if you w-want to.”  You were beginning to get self conscious and suddenly, all you wanted to do was dart upstairs and run into Nancy’s arms.

“Hey, I extended the invite, didn’t I?”

A rush of relief washes through you as he grins down at you.  Like a flip of a switch, you no longer wanted to run off to Nancy.  No, you’d rather stay in the newfound comfort of the basement.

–

“And then you just roll your thumb—there you go!”

The flame sparking to life from the lighter slightly burned at your thumb and your first instinct was to react and even tilt the flame closer to your thumb due to your inexperience.  A few lessons with Eddie changed that and you were now aware that you just needed to roll your thumb and keep the lighter upright, that way the flame wouldn’t singe you.

“It’s gonna burn my finger–it’s gonna burn–”

“No it won’t, see?  Just hold it like that and the flame isn’t gonna go anywhere near your finger.”

“Okay.”  You sigh, holding the lighter as still as possible in the air.

The bean bags you sat on made it difficult to keep still as you leaned back into the pliable pillow, your hand beginning to shake as you pulled your thumb from the little metal wheel, wincing.  The secluded spot just underneath the basement stairs was still within reach of the party however it was out of the way enough that no one would bother you.  Eddie lounged in his own respective bean bag, long legs splayed out across the carpet while he twirled the unlit joint with his fingers.  While you should have recommended smoking outside, you couldn’t be bothered when it was so icy and cold just beyond the frost coated sliding door, the warmth of the Harrington home wrapped around you like a hug and you refused to leave its embrace.  How could you bring yourself to care about the smoke embedding itself into the furniture when a whole smoke circle was happening right across the room and Steve seemed to have no issue with it earlier?  So what was just one more small smoke session initiated between a pair within the wooden walls?

“See, you got it.”  An alluring grin was offered, giant bambi eyes consuming your every movement.

“What do you mean?  My finger slipped.”

“Try again.”

For all you knew, it was only the two of you in the basement, that’s how enamoring he was.  It was unbelievable how everything was playing out, how for once things were going well for you.  A boy was showing genuine interest in you.  A boy you had been pining after for the last year and a half.

The pad of your thumb dug back into the little metal wheel, creating a bigger indent in your skin but you didn’t seem to mind.  The flame sparked once again and your eyes lit up with it.

“You definitely got it, you’re a pro now.  Just needed a little practice.”  Sweetness was drenched in his tone like honey drizzled over the freshest pastry.

No response came, your hot cheeks and a bashful smile directed down to your lap were all you could muster up.  You could feel his gaze on you, his head ducking to try and crack your shyness.  For a split second you felt a daydream come to life, a reality where Eddie may reciprocate your feelings but you quickly pushed it away.

No.  That’s not how things went for you.

Eddie was handsome.  Older.  Only by a year but it still contributed.  More experienced.  Had to have been.  Though you’d never seen girls hang around him you were sure he had a decent amount of experience, how could he not?

And you were some prude.  At least according to the higher social class of Hawkins High.  Specifically the jocks Steve still tolerated.  It was certainly none of their business whether you’d decided to put yourself out there or not however no one seemed to find anything wrong with the comments they made.  “Smile, babe.  If you’d smile every once in a while we might be hanging all over you.”  Gross.  They made you feel gross.  “C’mon, give us a smile.”  Embarrassed.  “Why so shy?  A sexy lil thing like you gotta get outta that shell.”  Violated.  By words.  It was worth noting that anytime these words were tossed your way and Nancy heard them, she would step up to the plate and defend you.  She had no problem but it never stopped them from continuing, they even went as far as to sexualize both you and Nancy.  As much as you tried not to let it get to you, it always lingered in the back of your mind that you were not enough.  Too shy.  Too timid.  Not up to your full potential since you wore clothes that hide your figure more than enhanced it.

“You okay?  We don’t have to smoke if you don’t want to.”  A gentle voice breaks you from the overbearing thoughts, the vicious cycle of internally tearing yourself apart at the male perception of you.

“Y-yeah.  Yes.”  It comes out breathy, almost as if you’d just run a marathon.  Cause in your minds it’s like you had.

“Listen, we can just save it for another time–or–or not.  If y’know, you don’t want to anymore–”

“No, no!  I still want to.”  A delicate hand rests on his forearm, something you’d usually scold yourself for doing but there was a comfort in the leather underneath your fingertips.  And there was his gorgeous boyish face, soft but slowly becoming more adult in every passing month.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie playfully squints, eyeing your face for any hesitation.

“Okay, okay.  You light it.”

“Wha–no!”

“C’mon, just like I taught you.”

He grabs the lighter from you, sparking it quickly before returning it to your clammy hand.  Maybe you should’ve taken one more shot before subjecting yourself to the humiliation that is getting high in front of Eddie.  Sure you’d smoked before but it was always in a controlled environment with Steve, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, and Argyle.  Always on the deck just outside.  Who knows how you’d behave in front of someone you were head over heels for.

“Oh shit, wait before we do that–”  Eddie plucks the lighter just out of your grasp once again, clutching it in his palm as he pushes himself forward, closer to you, knee brushing against yours.  “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Me?”  You perk up, your finger poking your own chest as if you were in disbelief.

You can’t seem to grasp that this is your reality as he leans even further forward.  It’s probably for help on homework.  Stop getting your hopes up.

Except something in the back of your brain persists, a hope–an intuition that the way he’s looking at you isn’t just the way a boy would look at someone just to seek homework answers.  Not that you would know but your gut was screaming at you that this was it.  It was always difficult to imagine a boy desiring to kiss you but for that split second it seemed very plausible.  It scared you.  Terrified you.  But in a way that was more exhilarating and had you anticipating every small movement, analyzing each twitch of his fingers as they rested on his thigh, the way he fidgeted with his lighter, it consumed your every thought.  And the moment you dared to glance up at his chocolatey pools of eyes, you’d become putty, melted caramel pliable only by his hands at this point.  His gaze held such care.  Something you’d never experienced by a boy before.  The slope of his nose suddenly became your favorite thing to look at aside from his giant sparkling irises.  It felt like every interaction with him before now just made sense.  His lingering glances, dimpled grins only reserved for you when you happened to see him across the cafeteria, every playful eye roll in O’Donnell’s last year when she attempted to snap at him for whispering some funny story over your shoulder,  each thumbs up he offered with a turn of his head as almost a question on days when you looked particularly down, all the times his voice would crack at the most inconvenient time and his face would go red, everything, everything, everything.

“Yeah, you.”  

It’s said with such sincerity.

“Okay.”  

The softness in your voice almost has him on his knees.  Until a not so soft voice burrowed its way in between the tenderness of the conversation.

“Well done, Munson.  Looks like you’ve won yourself a hundred bucks.”

~end~

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Masterlist

tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi @batkin028 @obscureenigmatic @micheledawn1975 @dreamerjj @hideoutside @hellfirefiend @emilyslutface @rustboxstarr @3rd-conchord

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

1/2 way done with my ACOTAR re-read and something dawned on me.

Feyre and Tamlin NEVER had a relationship that was healthy for either of them.

1) Tamlin is constantly lying to feyre or omitting truths from her for the whole time she is in the spring court. Yes, part of the constraints of the curse was that he couldn’t tell her, but he never TRIED.

2) Every time they have had some sort of romantic coding, Tamlin is ALWAYS in the dominant position. The moment Feyre wants anything sexual, he pulls away. Sexual advances are only OK if he is the one initiating it.

3) He only ever compliments feyre when she is wearing dresses, EVER. Only when she looks like what he would think is a lady. He only embraces her feminine side when feyre craves to have a balance of feminine and masculine.

4) They officially have sex and he is using his authority over her to send her away even though it’s against her wishes. Was he wrong to send her away? I don’t think so. But he still doesn’t even acknowledge her side of things, he lays down the law like a parent to a child.

5) They don’t talk about things, ever. In ACOMAF we can really see how they use sex as their main way to communicate. Then by the end they aren’t even intimate anymore, meaning that what little communication they had is gone.

6) the only time tamlin lets feyre into meetings is right after UTM, and it’s not because she earned it. It’s because she was his trophy he wanted to show off and use as a symbol of power. Then he tried to marry her 3 months later to secure said power.

7) in the depths of both of their PTSD, Tamlin asks feyre to marry him. And STILL, he refuses to make her an equal. He would rather have him serve in his court than have her rule side by side with him. Both of them were recovering from traumas they didn’t talk about with anyone.

8) In the 3 months between ACOTAR and ACOMAF, feyre was a walking ghost and not an active part in their relationship. Not to mention tamlin grew increasingly paranoid and CONTINUED to lie and keep secrets from her. Then he grew physically and emotionally abusive towards her, stemming from

8) During the beginning of ACOMAF, we see inside Feyre’s mind and we see that she views Tamlin and being fae as her ultimate punishment for killing those two innocents. It is no longer love for her, but an obligation and damnation.

Think about it. They kiss at summer solstice, have sex for the first time the day after. In this scenario they has an unbalanced dynamic. Then UTM where they were tortured for supposedly loving each other. Then 3 months goes by where they both have major unresolved PTSD, two months of further spiraling and paranoia when she visits the NC, and then a week or two later and that’s it. That’s the timeline of their relationship.

There is never a point in their relationship where they are equals in it. Tamlin ALWAYS has power over feyre is always keeping her from knowing the truth under the guise of protection.

I think Tamlin has a lot of shit to work through as a character. He is written as a tragic character, and yah that sucks for him. I think he needs massive therapy. I also think he could be in a loving relationship, just feyre was never the partner for that.

[ghostwise]

Tagged by the lovely @ghoulsbeard for a writing commentary exercise! Thank you so much, this was really fun! Tagging @coldshrugs @thevikingwoman @scionshtola and tbh I'm not sure who has or hasn't been tagged in this one... tagging all my writing friends please!! 🙌🏽💖

line(s) that made you laugh

“This pair claim to be enchanted to more easily spot nugs,” Alistair calls from the other end of the shop. “Could be useful.”

“How?” Hamal asks.

“If you have Sandal alter them to spot…”

“Traps?” Zevran asks.

“Darkspawn?” Leliana adds on.

“I can already sense those,” Hamal groans.

“The possibilities are endless,” Alistair says, quiet, awed, and mostly to himself.

- the reading stone

I don't write ensemble silliness often enough, and I had a lot of fun setting up this scene where they're all kind of goofing off. I fully believe that if you take the stress away from them for a moment they revert to dweeby antics.

line(s) that makes you sad

“I’m so glad you’re doing well. So tell me,” she scoots closer and looks at him eagerly, “What sort of life did you have, after you were adopted?”

“Adopted?”

By the kitchen counter, Hamal catches the subtle edge in Zevran’s tone. He pauses, holding the knife in his hand as a lull falls over the kitchen table, but he doesn’t know enough Antivan to guess what’s happened.

What’s happened is this: Zevran and Adelmar came from the same place, and know enough about that life to instantly understand that a lie has been told.

“Oh,” Adelmar breathes after a moment. “You… you weren’t adopted.”

Zevran lets out a laugh. It’s his ‘stalling’ laugh, and now Hamal is looking over, arms crossed, searching his face for clues.

“I was not adopted,” he says. “But do not trouble yourself over that.”

- not a homecoming, but something like it

It's obviously upsetting that Adelmar was lied to about what happened to Zevran, but I think in this moment they are both standing in the shadow of the life they could've had. Adelmar loved Zevran before the Crows ever touched him. The tragedy is, though, she was very much a child herself, so it's unfair to expect her to have been able to save him... but damn if she wouldn't have tried.

line(s) that you’re proud of

People think the desert is barren; the land harsh, the people unforgiving. They couldn't be more wrong. In all Refugio’s experience, scarcity creates generosity—not greed.

In the desert no one survives alone. It is a simple necessity to share resources, to freely give of one’s food and water and laughter. The desert gives people reason to band together. He’s never given it a second thought.

He remembers it fondly, how with each rainy season the desert comes to life.

People think the desert is barren. They don't know: the desert makes you kind.

- lovesong of the buzzard

Genuinely truly, Refugio is one of my favorite characters to write. 🥹 His voice comes easy to me; he's so vibrant and clever and funny and deeply emotional always, and this little piece is so wistful and homesick... it truly is an exercise is poetry I hope to continue to emulate. It's one of those bits of writing that make me think, oh if I can make more like this... I'm set.

line(s) you think could’ve been done better

The group ate and moved on. They chatted as they went, Cammen and Mathuin ultimately deciding on forgiveness. Not for any particular reason; just because it was easy and kind. Zevran was grateful for it.

The further they went, the thicker the forest became. Tree branches crowded overhead, but never overlapped, creating an unusual patchwork ceiling. Between the gaps in the canopy, daylight fell in dancing columns that tricked their eyes.

- for suffering is such a part

This one's kind of tough. I feel like every line has a job to do in writing, but they can't all be masterful and brilliant and insightful; that'd be silly. Some lines and passages are just there to efficiently get us from one bright spot to the next.

That being said, I could've done more showing rather than telling in fsisap. If I were to tackle it again I think it'd be really different in style, not to mention much longer 😵

line(s) that makes you want to punch a character

Atanasio was right about one thing: A Crow did not lose his composure. Even with a line of blood beginning to form at his neck, the man looked at Zevran with a wholly unimpressed expression. He remained thus, quietly thinking, before answering.

“Who?”

- quinta de talpa

This guy suuuuucks. I have this image of a man who has been tasked, for decades, for most of his life in fact, to just torture children--and he rationalizes it to himself so fully! Perceiving him through Zevran's POV makes it all the more impactful. This encounter is a nightmare from his childhood. This man is a monster he survived, when far too many didn't.

line(s) that makes you go “awww”

Hamal hums softly, happily.

“I dedicated the fight to you,” he says. “The Paragons will favor you now, I think. All of Orzammar will know.”

Zevran presses a light kiss over the dressings and gauze on his arm.

“Ah, but your favor is the only one I need.”

- tengo la vida muy corta (y tu la mirada decente)

Tender wound bandaging is a good trope and I think this little excerpt is sweet. I don't think I ever posted it here.

line(s) that contain an easter egg

For a moment she focused solely on Hamal, lying across from her. Zevran saw a moment of unmasked feeling, a deep sadness welling in her eyes, and she lifted a hand to brush against Hamal’s face.

“Is he alright?” she asked quietly. All the usual edge was gone from her voice.

“He will be fine,” Wynne responded. Morrigan’s eyes shut. She drew her hand back, and held it against her chest like it burned.

“Good,” she said softly, and Zevran got the impression, only for a moment, that she knew something no one else knew. “Good.”

- for suffering is such a part

Not sure if I'm interpreting 'easter egg' correctly, but this is Morrigan talking about the dark ritual.

I hope to write a little more exploring Hamal and Morrigan's dynamic because it's very bittersweet.

line(s) that are shocking

“Zevran, I don’t know how to shut the damn thing off!”

Hamal’s hands were mere inches from the looms, but he gripped the assassin’s ankle, trying to pull their body free.

“Leave them, amor,” Zevran said.

“But they’re—it is crushing them!”

“They’re gone. We have to leave!”

- (wip) quinta de talpa

A little snippet from a scene in QdT. It's one of those scenes where things just go terribly awry and I'm excited to edit it up and share it.

line(s) you want to talk about more

Zevran thought carefully. The story had the cadence of a very long riddle, and he had the suspicion that there was no wrong or right answer to it. He also got the impression, judging from Mathuin and Cammen’s inquisitive gazes, that the story would not be complete until he answered. It was his turn now to conclude the narrative.

He thought about it at length. Mathuin and Cammen waited patiently, silent, full of anticipation for his response.

“Alright,” he said finally, having thought about it for quite a while. He stopped by a large tree and looked up at its branches, as the others listened.

“I think both stories punish the clan, not for cutting the tree, but for their treatment of Abelas. In the first story, they should have been watching the child more closely. They knew he was destined for challenges, so they should have worked doubly to keep him from harm. In the second story, the clan should not have sought to drive the man away. They knew he had suffered all his life, so they should have helped him get back on his feet, not ostracized him. The moral of both stories is to protect the vulnerable.”

- for suffering is such a part

I am SO delighted by this scene where Zevran gets to participate in Dalish culture and storytelling, while bonding with his companions in a way that invites his natural curiosity and cleverness and creativity!!

I knew early on that I wanted to incorporate The Rowan Grove in fsisap somehow. It's one of my favorite codex entries, but it always felta bit dissonant when I considered it along with what we know of Dalish culture; so I wrote an entire scene where characters share the story in various iterations, and have a discussion about its meaning.

The added layer to it of course is metaphorical. Zevran is in many ways the central character from that tale. The comparison comes up again in later chapters.

It's an allegory on various levels, and I personally love allegorical tales. They're a great way to dig deep into a character and world. :)

[lost-eternity]

Fandom Matchups -CLOSED-

This is a matchup trade for @fourtyfourcatss. Regular matchups are still closed. Without further ado…

•──⋅☾Cabin 6 - HECATE☽⋅──•

I won’t lie. I struggled with this one. 

I think a large part of it was the fact that I wanted to sort you into Athena’s cabin however, I had just done an Athena matchup so I was slightly biased against doing another. Oop. 

Honestly, it mostly came down to Hecate and Athena for me. After much discussion with a few of my mythology buff friends I eventually settled on Hecate and here’s why.

You see, Hecate is a very tough parent. She expects a lot out of her children. She expects them to dutifully study and hone their craft to meet her high standards. As a result, those who are more likely inclined to cabin #20 would be those who are intelligent, bookish, and most important studious. 

You may be able to see where I encountered some issues here. 

Bookish, intelligent, and studious are all core characteristics of Athena’s children as well. That, paired with your ambition made it very difficult to distinguish between the two. So with such a degree of overlap between the two goddesses and their parental strategies (and the sheer scarcity of canon information on Hecate), I had to extract from the original lore. 

Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, I got the vibe that you were more intellectually inclined than athletically. At least, there were few mentions of sports or physical hobbies in your interests category. I figured that you would have included them if you found them to be an important enough characteristic of your personality or if you valued them at the same level as your intellectual pursuits. Athleticism seems to be in more of Athena’s domain than Hecate’s. 

Also, I think another key distinguishing factor is how you think. 

Athena’s children think more rigidly and tactically. They are focused on that which can be physically observed and oftentimes will outright reject the notion of things that extend metaphysically. Basically, if they cannot see, taste, touch, or smell it, it does not exist. This more close-minded albeit scientific approach to life allows them to be extremely knowledgeable but also can impede on natural creativity. 

Conversely, Hecate’s kids function with a certain degree of flexibility which ultimately promotes their creativity. As the goddess of liminal space, Hecate places heavy value on creativity, thinking outside the box, and decision-making. Hecate’s children are emotionally complex and knowledgeable individuals whose understanding of the world extends into spirituality. They are willing to embrace the unexplainable, willing to acknowledge and work with the metaphysical aspects of the world that someone from Athena’s cabin would simply refuse to acknowledge.  

Think of it like the Hermoine Granger VS Luna Lovegood style of thinking.

I think your mention of intuition is what really prompted me to consider placing you in the latter category of thinking methodology. A strong intuition and inner-directional sense is a core aspect of Hecate’s children. I’d even go so far as to call it the most important aspect shared by all of her children. 

Hecate is the goddess of crossroads after all, helping others make decisions when they come to a metaphorical crossroads in their lives is a core part of her mythos. I imagine this innate directional sense would extend to her children as well.

•──⋅☾Belief Manipulation☽⋅──•

I am going to be a bit more brief with this one as I went a bit overboard on the cabin sorting. I had a lot to say LOL. 

Okay, so this is a fun one. And probably one of the most potent powers I have dealt out so please make use of it wisely. 

I think you would have the power of belief manipulation 

Those with belief manipulation must be of unwavering conviction themselves lest they lose themselves to the potency of their own abilities. But beyond that, they must have a clever tongue and sharp wit. 

Their logical, well-disciplined minds have the ability to shake the foundations of a person’s belief, manipulating it and changing it to suit their narrative. This makes it one of the most powerful abilities one can possess. 

Belief systems are so deeply ingrained in a person’s psyche that the manipulation of it can change who that person is on a fundamental level. So much about what someone says and does is motivated by the beliefs they hold. To change that is to change them. 

Sure, you can use this ability for hijinks and scandals such as making a famous politician believe themselves to be a dog on national television- or you could use it to topple nations and shatter the foundations of societal framework. 

The choice is up to you. 

Weaknesses:

Must be in the sightline and earshot of the desired target. Earlier stages of this ability even requires physical touch. 

Difficult to undo once done. 

Certain limitations are present as a belief can be dispelled if physical, tangible evidence is presented to the target suggesting something contrary to the instilled belief. However, this depends on the target in question as some people are more susceptible to unquestioning faith than others (it is not easy to change people’s minds). 

[americanredragger]

Capitalist Highlander — THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE

All Capitalist roads lead to Monopoly at the end, be they long or short, because Monopoly is the goal of an unfettered free market ideology.

You have many companies, all competing to offer goods and/or services in a given space, with the understanding that the "superior" company will beat out the competition and emerge victorious.

The lie we were told as children consisted of two fallacious understandings: that the struggle has no end, and that it was the superior product and/or service that would win, not the superior company. That lie disguises the fact that the superior company achieves that superiority by many, MANY means, with only a small handful having to do with shipping a product of a certain level of quality. Most of them have to do with legal abuse, creative accounting, dividing up territory, and other means of inter-corporate politics to block and/or remove competition in the first place. Most of this effort is targeted at preventing smaller competition from growing further, as not much can be done to bring down a fellow titan but wait for them to make an industry-shaking mistake and then be there to buy up the pieces off the corpse, so these titans exist in a precarious balance of power with each other.

The struggle ends, of course, with a victor who has achieved such market dominance sufficient to effectively lock out any and all competitors, aka, a monopoly. Some competition will always be permitted to deny that a monopoly has formed and lend it a degree of market legitimacy ("See! We can't be a monopoly! We have competition right over there!"), but it will only be allowed to operate within a permitted niche — it will never be allowed enough resources and breathing room to seriously challenge said monopoly's dominance. This is a big reason why a box of Honey Nut Cheerios will sell for $5-6 a box, but "Auntie Rhonny's Honeyed Nut Cereal" has to make do selling a much smaller box for $8-10 even if their product were objectively better in every way; the dominant power sets the terms of the market such that their competition stays small and token.

Even "better" is when the monopoly can turn their small competitors into customers. For instance, Samsung sells their smartphone screens at an affordable price both to major competitors like Apple, and also to smaller, more niche brands like Unihertz. This makes those smaller companies dependent on the titan they are in direct competition with, ensuring they cannot grow above a certain level. After all, if Unihertz started approaching getting big enough to think about maybe making their OWN displays, Samsung could simply prematurely cut off Unihertz's supply and prevent further growth in that direction, forcing them to either fold or find a new source of displays that may not be of the same quality that their customers have come to expect, which might do further damage. This dependency on Unihertz's part assures that Samsung wins and maintains their dominance over one market or another, no matter what happens.

Capitalist thought is much like The Highlander: "there can be only one". The process will continue until each market segment is dominated by a superior company, and then that King can behave largely how they want, because a lack of meaningful competition means people have no alternative.

It goes without saying that this is ultimately bad for consumers AND workers. Only the "competition" phase is any good for us, and even then, it has to be competition predicated on the ideal of selling a superior product or service. For that, in the current status quo, you need a strong government with powerful anti-trust laws and pro-worker and pro-consumer regulations and a vested interest and willingness to enforce them.

There are potential socioeconomic overhauls (of which Marxism and its various descendants are overwhelmingly the most well known) that could flip this script completely by investing power elsewhere and even redefine what a corporation even IS, but those are simply potential overhauls that will require a revolution (of one sort or another) to accomplish, so for the purposes of this post, they aren't very practical to discuss.

In the system we have, right here, right now, the only way to prevent monopoly is by using government regulations and anti-trust to physically intervene and prevent them, and break them up where they HAVE formed. Which is to say, the United States is probably already fucked. But the rest of you guys might manage something with enough action.

[cyarskaren52]

Just so y’all know, this man 100% dialed 9-1-1 and is on the phone with the NYPD dispatcher. This is how Karens kill Black men.. yall should be outraged by this if you’re not then what the hell’s wrong with you?!?

If you want to see a PERFECT example of a Karen attempting to weaponize her tears to get what she wants even if it ultimately causes bodily harm to a Black person, watch this.

As you watch, I want you to notice a few things…

*This will be a thread because I’m now annoyed*

1/

1) She thought that if she yelled for help & cried she would immediately get her way.

Why? Because historically that has always worked for them. That’s why they do it.

They don’t care if someone gets hurt. When inconvenienced — or God forbid, DENIED — yell for help & cry.

2/

2) When she saw she was being recorded she popped that work badge off her neck with the quickness.

Why? Because she saw that camera and knew that social media sleuths would have her name, job site and shoe size by lunch time.

She knew her antics would jeopardize that job.

3/

In my mind that alone shows consciousness of guilt. She knew those men had done nothing wrong and the video would show that — leading to consequences for HER.

So she shifted into another gear, enter:

3) The “tears” of a 🤡.

Dry as the Mojave. All for show.

4/The “waterworks” also fell flat. Why? Because again, those men had done nothing to her, she was in the wrong & no one was buying. Well, except for the next thing you need to notice:

4) “Captain save a Karen”

On cue they hear the malignant cries for “help” & come to fix it.

5/

You should also notice that the “fix” involved the Black man giving the Karen what she wanted.

No questions asked.

No further investigation. He decided SHE was telling the truth immediately.

Except she WASN’T.

#CarolynBryant anyone? (Also that biiiiitch is still dead thankfully)

6/

As the last act of her sad, potentially dangerous drama, Karen gets off the bike — that the Black man was on first & had already connected to his credit card — dries her “tears” & prepares to go about her day as if she didn’t just almost upend their lives.

#ImagineThePrivilege

I hear they’ve found her. May the “find out” phase be deliciously fruitful. May hell be hotter for her

I’d say I hope she learns from this, but she won’t. A hew never learns from their mistakes. Anyone who does what she did at that late age has deep-seated beliefs that the lives — and apparently bike-riding — of Black people don’t matter.

And though I CLEARLY used the phrase #Karen — which references a VERY specific type of entitled, willfully-ignorant & often malignantly racist white woman, which NO decent white woman should see herself in — I know some of y’all still need this:

#NotAll (fquck that too! Yes the fq it’s you)

There ya go.

And I just heard that these were teenage boys she did this to.

Not grown men.

Even worse.

Again, could’ve upended or simply ENDED their lives over a lie.

#DamnShame

This needs to be said to start the day and week.

WHITE PEOPLE,

EVERYTHING IS NOT FOR YOU NOR ABOUT YOU.

Sincerely,

Black People

*don't @ me

[dreams-of-cerulean]

Feels like it’s been harder to Link nowadays to Chi. Probably because I haven’t done anything to up my popularity, thus the Faith is running dry. I...haven’t quite told anyone about Chi other than Lils - Sasha knows that I was once in contact with the Nameless Goddess, but I didn’t elaborate further.

She seems to be doing well. I think she’s adapting to Reality well - I was getting worried that she’d just become one of those Hermits that stick to the Dream world and only come out on occasion to make sure their body doesn’t die in the interim. That being said, I’m pretty sure she is still maintaining her hobby of constructing her own personalized Dream world.

I personally never really bothered with a personalized world. Creation isn’t really my thing, and ultimately it’s not real. I find that people who spend skill points to create such a world are weird - but then again, I’m also the type of person who finds Minecraft sorta pointless too, so maybe I’m the weird one.  

---

Anyway in other news, Templars visited again. The visit this time is a bit more hostile. Mostly because they invited a half-angel to the mix; assholes think they’re being clever bringing along a natural lie detector, but I can spot her with Observe. 

I think the Blank Canvases are curious about the half-angel’s presence because they keep staring from the window, and it made the half-angel visibly uncomfortable, even if she can’t perceive them. Yeah, I’d be uncomfortable too if I were stared at by a bunch of beings that can lobotomize me if enough of them stare at me for too long. 

The distraction to the Templar’s angel was helpful though. I think they’re trying to figure out how much I know after Linking with Samantha Golden’s memories - after our previous discussion, the Templars have employed similar tactics as mine with Empaths, both affiliated and non-affiliated, with mixed results, so they know that I probably know some of their secrets - they’re worried about how much though.

I couldn’t outright lie and say I didn’t know anything, so I kinda edged along the truth. I told them I knew where Templar HQ was and some of their campaigns on political grounds and probably some training areas, but most of the memories were just of pain and getting tortured. They seemed to have bought it because they left without demanding I come with them. Too much faith on their humanoid lie detector.

I didn’t tell a lie, but it wasn’t the complete truth. 

I’ll probably know everything that Samantha Golden once knew. I just haven’t unpacked it all yet. 

[obaewankenope]

The effort I went to for my undergraduate bachelors had me make a survey that covered a range of factors, whittled things down to those I needed, but allowed literally everyone who wanted to to participate in it. The fact that I then could use every participants responses in my study was entirely by design of my hypothesis and the research I was doing.

Quite literally, here's what "constraints" were in place in my thesis research: Participants were expected to be 18 or older with a good grasp of English as the survey itself was in English.

That was it. All data I collected for my thesis was useful and I made sure that everything I could get was something my actual hypothesis would allow me to utilise bc I was examining morality, Sexuality, and sexual attitudes in society. I quite literally required as big a demographic as I possibly could get (which I did, wahoo). But other research I'd done was narrower and less open to such a wide range of research, and I sure as heck made sure to justify why I was accepting such a range of data demographics for my thesis. Because oh boy did I have to to my supervisor.

This whole ass study makes me froth at the mouth because I had hundreds of responses, hundreds!, and I took extensive steps (to the point where my advisor was very overwhelmed, rip to him I guess, he didn't even really get what I was investigating... Queer representation was LOW at my uni then apparently) to ensure I was able to cover as many gods damned variables and factors as possible! Which, I had to justify the entire time! As you should! A researcher has a hypothesis they want to investigate, not necessarily prove or disprove. From there, they need data. The data should not be mined or potentially sourced in a way that makes it unethical or unreliable. If it's not representative because you cannot guarantee that everyone is being truth, then you need to state that clearly and have measures to examine your data further or to potentially go back to the drawing board for further refinement of your data collection methods.

This study.... This study apparently didn't do that. It uses the idea that YouGov must be truthful, or accurately representative, has a flawed ass definition of "fact" and "statement of fact" because it conflates those things for participants who may not understand the distinction and apparently doesn't even fuckin explain that distinction! Like-

I'd have failed with that approach for my undergrad thesis jfc. How the shits even-

This whole ass study is basically just a confirmation bias case and the fact that it went through so many circles of academic review is terrifying because you have to ask: what has happened to make this study get through all those hoops and to essentially have little to no additional information on the potential setbacks and inaccuracies of the data utilised?

But yeah, I wrote my undergad thesis when I was... Jesus 2015.... I was... 21? 22? 21... No, 21 (yikes). And I did it solo. And my thesis has more controls and recognition of extraneous variables and how, ultimately, sometimes the data you collect might actually be meaningless because you can't guarantee it's either accurate or reflective of the majority because, as @justheretobreakthings says: people lie.

Just- ugh. I hate it.

Source

Source

[skatingexposed]

Barking Chihuahuas and the Truth About Crossovers: Exposing Lies Behind Kostner’s Skating Skills (and a Little Rant)

So, I was scrolling through a skating forum and came across this post totally lying about Carolina Kostner. Given that I already spilled the tea on Italian skater Sarina Joos’ skating skills and then her crossovers as a little "bonus" in my last skating skills analysis post from JGP RIGA, it’s only right I set the record straight on Kostner—Italy’s skating empress.

One of the biggest issues? The sheer number of crossovers she does. It’s like, girl, chill! It’s not the best, yet skaters today get dragged for doing just 3 or 4 at max. Completely unfair!

Here’s the truth: Kostner had good speed, but WAYYYYYYYYYY too many crossovers at times! Seriously, more than most ladies today.

Let's count together the amount of crossovers Kostner does in her programs right before an element such as jumps.

I will provide a Gif and count every cross that she uses to gain speed. Count with me and expose this lie 😁

MY RANT:

Keep in mind the ISU used Kostner as the poster child of skating skills meaning "They do not give a f&#% about ugly crossovers" that some irrational fans bark like Chihuahua's about.

Have you ever heard a Chihuahua bark? It’s like, the most annoying sound ever, right? Well, that’s exactly how it feels when fans go on and on, acting like the way crossovers are done is the ultimate measure of skating skills. They’re like barking Chihuahuas—nonstop noise over something that’s just not that important!

Let me be clear: how you do your crossovers—whether you miss a push, use both pushes with equal power, have a stronger under push, or lift your leg higher as you crossover—doesn't matter to the judges or tech panel when getting scored. None of that factors into skating skills; it’s just the basic way to gain speed. Much ado about nothing!

Now, speed itself? That’s a different story because it counts. Most skaters rely on crossovers because it's the easiest way to pick up speed, but that doesn't make it the hallmark of incredible skating skills. It's the easiest method! Nothing impressive about it. What really impresses judges is gaining speed from the most difficult turns, like rockers, counters, brackets, and all those tricky moves because they are difficult. That's where the real magic happens!

So many fans love to "bitch" about ugly crossovers (thanks to the constant noise from those barking Chihuahuas), but guess what? The judges don't care. Crossover count and technique aren’t even in the criteria for skating skills! So, let's focus on what actually matters, and not get caught up in the drama created by clueless fans and retired skaters who have never competed at the elite level or don’t really understand how scoring works.

Until this madness stops, I’m going to keep calling out the so-called "favorites" of the past generation who use the same—or even worse—crossovers as the skaters who are getting bullied for them today. It’s time to shine a spotlight on the hypocrisy and show that it's not about "crossovers" or how the crossovers look, but the actual criteria set by the ISU.

Excuse the slight cursing, but I am so fed up with these clueless skating fans who think "Perfect Crossovers" automatically mean "Amazing Skating Skills."

Let me tell you, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The ISU never said that basic crossovers are the ultimate measure of skating skills. NEVER. Yet, these fans act like it's the only thing that matters (when it’s not even a factor!) and use it to drag skaters they don't like.

Sure, speed is important, but "perfect" crossovers or doing a ton of them? Not the be-all, end-all—if it were, Carolina Kostner would be ranked way lower in skating skills!

None of the skating skills criteria even mention crossovers as a big deal. There’s no rule saying you need 2-3 or 3-4 crossovers or else. Kostner was out there doing 5-7 at times, and she’s still celebrated as one of the best standards of SS in official ISU educational videos! And this was over Mao Asada by the way who had better "crossover technique" and used less crossovers from element to element.

Here is the skating skills criteria for 2024/2025 yet again:

Do you guys see anywhere that says, "Crossovers must be 2 - 3 maximum or must be done a specific way with equal pushes and no back pumping?" No! Because that's complete bull.

I too like minimal crossovers 2 - 3 crossovers.

I too hate back pumping.

I too am annoyed by jerky short strokes on crossovers.

But all of this is an aesthetic and efficiency preference on how the crossovers are done not a hard rule.

If the skater is fast with 4 - 5 crossovers with some of the flaws I stated above I won't snap their neck and pretend the ISU should lower their scores in skating skills when the ISU never made "crossover technique" a factor for skating skill scoring.

Should you get a little praise or boost for minimal crossovers, yes, but should your skating skills score be punished when it was never a factor to begin with? No.

Kostner was hailed as the queen of skating skills even though she did 6 - 7 crossovers at times, and no one batted an eye. Just wowed at her speed.

Nowadays, skaters with just as much speed should get the same pass for doing just 4 crossovers which is standard today, especially if they're a bit sloppy like Kostner's with the fast short strokes, over leaning and pumping back. She was still celebrated as the Queen of skating skills by the ISU and tons of fans. It's funny—someone even tried to claim she only did 2-3 crossovers to gain speed, but it varied so much with many of her skates having excessive amounts such as the gif I provided above of 7 back crossovers! It's wild how people twist the truth just to keep her on that pedestal, especially when current skaters get criticized for doing the same thing.

So here’s the deal: Carolina Kostner, even with her 5 - 7 crossovers that had back pumping, over-leaning, and those short, fast strokes, still had fantastic speed. Compare that to Sarina Joos, who only did 4 crossovers but with average-to-below-average speed going into jumps. It’s no wonder Sarina is getting lower scores—it’s about speed, not just the crossover technique.

Carolina might have had messier crossovers, but her speed earned her higher scores. The key takeaway? Super fast but botched crossovers will always outshine perfect but slow crossovers because speed is the real game-changer in the "Power and Speed" criteria.

Of course speed is just one of the six criteria for skating skills. I’m not saying it’s the only thing that matters, but I’m focusing on this because I’m so over this whole crossover drama that the Chihuahuas created. So, while there’s more to skating skills, let’s not get bogged down by this crossover nonsense!

[delusion-of-negation]

cruel people will quite often be able to put you in a bad situation, pressure you, even make you say and do certain things, then further demonise those, and use those as proof that you're the asshole. as much as sometimes i want to just air all the dirty laundry and manipulation and yelling at me and threatening and so forth that led up to me having the audacity to call somebody a cunt and/or just agree to let the person frame a situation their way because it's way too much effort to keep arguing, i generally don't do that, because ultimately you're arguing against the person who had months or years clear-headed and calm to make something up, while aware of the real situation and therefore preemptively able to predict responses you'd have. they do have the upper hand.

it haunts me a little, watching lies and inaccuracies in the stories go unchallenged, only to spiral into far more malicious things, to people telling me to kms, threatening me, various kinds of harassment, etc. it sometimes upsets me how, even if people were one day to grow past what they've done to me, there is always going to be that "actually when i did it to the freak, that was okay, they deserved it", and nobody intends to ever even say "sorry that happened, you shouldn't have had to go through this on top of the crap you already had on your plate" - i'm not really a person who wants your guilt or your self-blame, just understanding and ending the pain you caused, but good-nature doesn't get you very far in this bullshit.

and i've had a realisation, because hunter (who i've spoken to a couple times, he gave me some advice during bad periods) was just nearly killed by his gf's ex in a shooting, and watching people harass him to make fun of him while he's at his lowest has driven home that absolutely no level of pain somebody has experienced will be enough to make people say "i'm being cruel here" to somebody they hate this much. when i heard about what happened, all i could think was "fucking hell, i hope he's okay", but people have constantly been spamming him mocking him, even before the blood dried in the hallway, and he isn't a crappy guy, he hasn't done anything notably bad, in years all he's done is refute the transphobia and all that shit he used to promote, but the right and the groypers hate that so seeing him covered in his gf's blood while their attacker shoots himself in front of them is funny ig (and i mean seeing, there's a video).

so the understandable thought that if one makes a suffering visible enough, eventually the assholes in their life will care about it has come face to face so suddenly with the most extreme possible evidence that that's never ever going to be the case. people sometimes don't want to watch the world burn, but want to watch you specifically burn, and they fully feel justified in that mentality, and the more you do burn the more they laugh and the deeper they go in justifying it because eventually there's no going far back enough without having to face some real dark truths about what you're capable of. the lie, the idea you must deserve it, has to be believed by others at least, but likely by themselves too, and it seemed to be counter-intuitive initially that the more pain you experience the less they'll care, but that's actually a completely unavoidable reality. i spent so long just wanting to be heard out and seen and cared for, but finally i understand that there's no way out of this.

i don't like comparing things, there's stuff i've gone through recently and historically that you could say was better or worse than other stuff, but ultimately what i'm saying isn't "i feel as hurt as the guy who's life nearly just horribly ended", it's "i saw someone i care about go through hell, then get mocked for it, i related to that, and am concerned for both of us". it could be similar - a guy attempted to murder me, it fucked me up, and then people used it to hurt more after. and while i don't know hunter very well, it still sucks seeing someone who helped you lots covered in blood and then made fun of for it. and i can't help relating to the helpless anger he must be feeling. a youtuber criticised him for arguing with them when everything went down, instead of logging off to get time to process, but i get why hunter did that, why naturally you want to believe you can make people care if you just present your case and pain to them.

[bluemoondust]

✧General Yandere Headcanons✧ — Pregame

Character(s): Pregame Akamatsu Kaede, Saihara Shuichi, Ouma Kokichi, Momota Kaito

A/N: These are based off my own interpretation on their personalities, so oof. One of the things I wanted to do when writing these was to slightly mirror these four off of their counterparts when it comes to behavior and traits as a yandere.

Warning(s): Bullying (Emotional, Slight Physical), Obsessive/Delusional Behavior, Hints of Intense Stalking, Unhealthy Lifestyle (on Shuichi's end), Hints of Murder, Manipulation, Victim Mentality (from Kokichi), Injuries on Purpose (by Kokichi), Guilt Tripping, Sadistic Behavior, Possessive Mindset/Behavior, Hints of D.ubcon/N.oncon (on Kaito's part), Selfish Behavior

✧Akamatsu Kaede✧

Kaede isn't someone who would take these feelings in a good light. Even if they were healthy, her reaction towards it wouldn't be any better. Immediately she blames you for how she's feeling because who else will she blame? Herself? Absolutely not. You're the dolt who managed to weasel themselves into her head just so you could mess with her. She just can't let that slide. From then on Kaede became a dreadful presence in your life. Snide remarks, comments targeted towards your insecurities, and some light physical harm such as shoving or pinching you. It's hard to escape from her as she insists on tormenting you day in and day out. It makes you ponder on why the insistence of it all. Why does she bother? If you look a little further as well, you can also catch onto something. How would she even know what to say in order to get under your skin?

Truth be told, no matter how much Kaede had attempted to get rid of you from her thoughts, nothing did the trick. All she could do now was bully you into taking responsibility. Even if you're not aware of it. I will say, deep down she does love you even if she lowkey hates possessing these emotions. They act as a weakness to her so she shoves them down when they insist on rising up. This is entirely unhealthy but Kaede has managed to turn it into a norm in her everyday life.

But oh, does she seethe with anger whenever she catches you laughing and smiling with friends. It's jealousy, envy but all she sees it as you trying to get under her skin. Who gave you the right? So, obviously her next target will be your friends. Kaede's ultimate goal is to ensure you have no one else to turn to except her. At least she can tolerate your annoying, blubbering self instead of those piss-poor "friends" of yours. Even if you reject her after all that, it's difficult to carry on without her constant presence. You're stuck with her.

If you're instant on avoiding her, Kaede gets irritated. Eventually she'll force you to hang out with her, dragging you around wherever she goes. You have no friends so you have no where else to go, so don't f.ucking push her away. Don't make excuses. You have time for her now. Kaede is extremely good at emotionally manipulation which is why she's able to push you into joining her. Kaede will never admit this, but she lowkey does feel lonely in life and maybe she was projecting when her jealousy took over her actions after seeing you with friends. Humanity has done nothing but disappointment her over the years. People lie, steal, cheat for the sake of themselves. However, Kaede saw you as the only good thing in this world, so she had to have you.

✧Saihara Shuichi✧

Unlike ingame Shuichi, this man is extremely delusional. Everything you do or say will be taken into consideration for all the wrong reasons. The moment you either give him the time of day or show a similar interest in Danganronpa, he's immediately hooked. Everything that you considered private is now at the palm of his hand. He's memorized your schedule, taken into account what your likes and dislikes are, drawn up various topics the two of you can have conversations about, and especially mapped out wherever you go (including where you live)! It's nothing to fret about. Your deepest darkest secrets are safe with him and he doesn't judge you at all! He loves you so much to ever hate you! Talking to you brings so much joy in his life (and other feelings...) even when he can't say much in your company due to nerves.

Shuichi is the type to make excuses in order to have your time. Be it through purposely getting hurt so you could coddle him or downright say whatever comes to mind that'll catch your attention. To him, being around you is addicting and without his daily dose of serotonin from hanging off of every word you speak, he gets irritable. His mood is all grumpy until he finally has you at his side. It's apparent that he's unhealthy dependent/attached. He also has the tendency to push everything to the side in favor of his interests, which right now are you and Danganronpa. He neglects himself because you're considered a higher priority. If you call him out on such, he revels in this new discovery that you also snap your attention on him for this reason. He promises to get better. It's half a lie, but he loves being doted on like this.

Rivals irk him to no end. Shuichi deems them as pests, scum, and dirt under his feet. He makes extra sure that he's right next to you when you're talking to either friends or people who've got their eye on you. What's a little unsettling is how quiet he is. Shuichi only talks when you ask him a question or your voice is directed to him. Your friends will probably think he's weird or creepy, and he hopes that's the case. He wants them to back off because they're uncomfortable around him. If they can't deal with him, they don't deserve you. Overall, Shuichi hates sharing you.

Being persistent only leads them to meeting an unfortunate fate. It's difficult to fully confront them, but working behind the scenes is what Shuichi does best. He's got enough of them to ruin their lives. As an alternative, which is much better in his opinion, he can just erase their entire existence off the face of the earth. Some people can never learn unless they're faced with true fear.

✧Ouma Kokichi✧

Kokichi here is probably the least yandere to worry about out of the four, as well as the most tame. On a scale of aware to delusional when it comes to his behavior, he's somewhat aware but sometimes he just ignores the gnawing feeling that something is amiss. It's not like he's hurting anyone or you, so why bother? To narrow everything down, Kokichi is a clingy and manipulative yandere. He's anxious sometimes when you're not around but lowkey feels like a burden to you. The crippling fear of being alone is much greater though. Despite all that, he isn't afraid to tell you of his suspicions about a person you're interacting with. Even if what he's saying about them is not entirely true. It's only out of dreadful feeling that one someone will be more interesting to you and he will be left in the dust. Kokichi can't let that happen.

He plays victim as much as he can; it's literally something he is extremely talented at.This is where the manipulative tendencies come in. In your eyes, Kokichi is a person who people take joy in tormenting due to his shorter than average stature and how passive he acts. He always comes to you to vent about how awful life is towards him. In reality, he is a rather mediocre to some and would sometimes get bullied or used. Other than that, most don't bat an eyelash when it comes to him. So, it's easy for him to stick labels on himself when it comes to your perception of him. If anyone who he suspects is trying to take you away, he runs to you with tears in his eyes. Someone apparently shoved him to the pavement and now his knees and palms are all scraped up. Trust me, he has evidence.

Calling him out on his behavior, if you ever catch on, results in him getting defensive. He's not mad. That's the worst part of it. Kokichi tears up as he questions why you're accusing him of something so heinous. Don't you trust him? He's been good to you, why are you acting like this? Every single thing you point out, he jabs back with a very airtight excuse for such. Now you look like the bad guy in this situation and you feel awful. To put more salt on those feelings, Kokichi forgives you... Because he loves you. After the two of you make up, his mind is reeling to find out just what bastard made you think of such things about him. He has to know, so it's assured that you'll never ever trust their judgement again. I mean, their so called words of advice made you look like an asshole so why ever believe them after that?

Bringing up his awareness again, it gets really bad done the line. Sure, he is somewhat aware but over time Kokichi will make excuses for himself for the things he's doing. Everyone is out to get him and any shred of happiness he could achieve. You have been such a good thing in life, so it makes sense that the universe would try to rip that away from him with people vying for your attention or someone planting misinformed into your mind. There's no way in hell that he will ever let you go.

✧Momota Kaito✧

The absolute worst to put it plain and simple. Kaito is a sadistic and possessive yandere who is all take and no give. It is highly advised to stay far away from him when he gains this unhealthy obsession towards you. Because the moment he figures it out, your life will not be the same. Kaito does not care about whether or not what he's feeling is the normal or twisted. One thing is for sure, you're not getting away from him. He finds it amusing to see you in a state of panic, knowing how he treats you. Every single day he comes around to make sure you're on your best behavior. Meaning you are not doing anything that can piss him off like try to make friends, tell anyone about what he's doing, or god forbid catching feelings for someone. Kaito intends to have full control over you and whatever threatens that has to deal with him. That includes you, which is something you absolutely don't want.

Kaito gets right to the point on the subject of rivals; either beating them black and blue or killing them. No in between. Even worse is if you're around when this happens, he will not care. He's glad you saw since this is just another reason why you shouldn't defy him. Also, how f.ucking dare you instigate this? No matter where you stood in these circumstances, Kaito will find any reason to blame it on you. Then of course a fitting punishment is in order. Every single one just leaves you pathetic and helpless since this man is cruel. He'll deprive you of things, isolate you, heavily degrade you, or force himself on you. Speaking of such, he's horrible due to the fact that whenever he's in the mood, it doesn't matter if you want it or not. It's all about what he wants.

He will occasionally roughly grab you by the wrist and drag you to a semi secluded area. Doesn't waste anytime as his actions are hasty and abrasive. Even outside of that, Kaito is always has his hands somewhere on you. Don't complain or whine, unless you want him to be unhappy. It's absolutely suffocating as he forces you to go with him or do things you'd never do. Again, there's no room for protesting. Do what you're told.

Overall, Kaito is an incredibly selfish human being to deal with as a yandere. No one, not even you, are safe from him. He's someone who sees something he likes and decides it'll be his. No matter what. You would even question if he loves you or not. It's just... He has an exceedingly cruel way of showing it and genuine believes that having you on a tight leash will ensure you never leave. He always tells you during a punishment that he could have had anyone he wanted, but he ultimately chose you. So that amounts to something, correct? Don't be so picky.

[redphlox]

Dabi's fear of feelings and connections

Dabi is a walking contradiction; he says he doesn't care about anyone, but his flames, which are linked to his emotions, demonstrate otherwise when Twice is killed. Dabi brushes off the news that Natsuo could have died because of him but still refers to him affectionately as Natsu-kun. Touya went around calling Endeavor out for neglecting his children but still trained to regain his approval and attention anyway. He lashed out at baby Shouto, admitted Shouto had done nothing wrong, and then attacked him again years later. He cries blood while thinking about his family but doesn't go home to them or change his actions which hurt them even more. Dabi wants to destroy hero society for a better future but it's obvious he doesn't plan to live long enough to see that future.

The gaps between his actions and his words are a result of dissociation and repression. It's not that Dabi is emotionless. Actually, he feels too much and he's afraid of his feelings because they've done nothing but hurt him emotionally and physically. He literally almost burned to death the one time he had a burst of emotion on Sekoto Peak and in order to prevent a repeat of that, he operates under the flawed notion that safety lies in repressing his feelings and pushing people away. He lies to himself and others and therefore cannot reconcile with his true self and can’t trust others.

In this meta I'll discuss how Dabi deals with his unprocessed feelings of betrayal and neglect by denying himself connections with both his inner wounded child and those around him. I'll also address a few misconceptions surrounding Dabi because dismantling them is key to understanding him. Contrary to popular belief, he does not want to kill his father, he never wanted to be a hero for his own sake, and he doesn't hate Shouto or his family. At its core, Touya's hurt stems from discovering that his relationship with his father wasn't based on unconditional love. This realization destroyed his sense of self so much it caused him to start fearing his own feelings and being close to others because of the link between his emotions and his self-destructive quirk.

To understand Dabi we have to understand Touya. In 291 we see through Endeavor's flashback that Touya was eager to train under him and carry his legacy. It's implied by the fact they’re working on ultimate moves that not only is Touya a willing, eager participant but that the two have been training together for quite some time. In 301 we learn that after Touya's quirk started hurting him Endeavor not only abandoned the training regime but also abandoned Touya both emotionally and physically. Instead of using the time he spent training Touya to help Touya find a new hobby or purpose in life, or just hanging out with his kid, Endeavor chooses to remove himself from Touya’s life. When Touya confronts him about the change of routine, Endeavor is seen putting on his jacket and leaving the home, his body turned away from his son.

Maybe Endeavor had errands to run, but my point is that he was in Touya’s life one minute and then gone the next. Touya says so himself: why did Endeavor change his mind all of a sudden? The abrupt change in attitude was jarring for a 4-5 year old to handle. To Touya, training = love, so he felt compelled to keep training and demonstrate his worthiness despite the fact that his quirk was hurting him. To Touya, the pain was worth it if it meant hanging out with his dad again.

But why? Well, Touya was Endeavor's #1 fan, genuinely so. His admiration and fondness for his father was genuine, and he didn't question the triumphant look on Endeavor's face when Touya said he wanted to learn the ultimate move. Before his quirk started burning him, Touya had no idea he was born for his father's ulterior motives. He had no reason to question his father's attention. Touya lived under the impression his bond with his dad was genuine and special, and he probably felt lucky that his father was willing to share something so important to him (heroism). Even after the training stops and Endeavor stops paying attention to Touya, Touya still wears his merch and vies for his attention. Most kids see their parents as larger than life and Touya was no exception. Keigo Takami admired Endeavor the hero, and Touya Todoroki admired his father who just so happened to be the hero Endeavor. Since being a hero was such a big deal for Endeavor, it was a big deal for Touya.

But that's where Touya's story becomes tragic. His father is a flawed, flawed man with many insecurities and fallacies that he pushes onto his family. I’ll get to those in a moment, but as intelligent and observant Touya is to catch on that Endeavor never set out to marry to become a father, he is too young to separate himself from his father’s expectations. Touya realizes he was born for a purpose and Touya will be damned if he doesn't fulfill that purpose even if he knows it's wrong. His father's ‘love’ meant that much to him. For Touya, it's not about becoming a hero for the glory. It was about his relationship with his father because, as I mentioned earlier, Touya was his #1 fan in the sense that he loved Enji just for being his dad. There were no conditions tied to that. “You are my dad, and I love you.”

But that wasn’t a sentiment that Touya felt in return, and that hurt Touya. He internalized he wasn't good enough, that something about him was inherently wrong. But more than that, his world came tumbling down - he felt betrayed and lied to: his father didn't love him like Touya needed him to, and this truth destroyed him. Their relationship was a lie, a farce, and it hurt so much Touya became obsessed with not hurting anymore because he couldn’t get away from it.

Touya’s motivation to become a hero didn't rise from being inspired by All Might like Shouto. Touya’s thought process wasn’t "I want to be a hero to help others or be like All Might" like Deku. No, Touya only wanted to be a hero because he wanted his father to be proud of him for surpassing All Might. Notice that Touya's obsession with beating All Might slowly diminishes from “I can surpass All Might” to “I can surpass All Might like Shouto, too” to just “look at me, Endeavor.” It was never about being a hero per say, but about his relationship with his father. Touya realized that Endeavor isn't his father first, but a hero, and he understands that he has to be a hero too to fit into his father's world. Even upon realizing that his father was using him, Touya still wanted to be part of his life, still wanted that bond. Touya, in his desperation to be loved and accepted again, could look past his father's selfishness as long as he regained that approval. Touya could pretend the relationship was real as long as he stopped feeling so unlovable.

This is unhealthy thinking, of course. Even if Touya somehow managed to regain Endeavor's approval, the relationship would still be one-sided and dissatisfying because he wouldn't be able to ignore the truth. But, this is how he rationalized his insistence to keep training in his 4-5 year old mind and this line of thought stuck with him as he grew up just as those feelings of inadequacy never left him.

This is precisely why Natsuo's drowsy "can't you go talk to our sister?" hurt so much. Touya was already emotionally fragile, and hearing that felt like being rejected all over again when it was actually Natsuo just trying to sleep. Touya was hypersensitive to any words or actions that could be interpreted as dismissive. His trauma wouldn't listen to logic that Natsuo was 8 and too young to understand, that he was tired - no, Touya's brain said, you're being rejected again! This is also why he also stormed away crying from Fuyumi after she expressed her concern for him.

In Touya’s mind, why couldn't anyone just agree with him that he was good enough? He heard "your dad's right and you're not good enough so why try" not "I care about you, your father is wrong, and I don't want you to keep getting hurt" whenever Rei tried to get him to stop training because that's the message he got from his father, too. Nevermind that it infuriated Touya that his mother could stand there and preach to him when, from his perspective, she couldn’t take her own advice. All Endeavor ever did was teach him to turn up the heat, so why should it matter that doing just so hurts him? Touya didn't understand NOT training his quirk because he had been taught that raising his firepower was ideal in all situations. Those two statements didn't make sense to a 4-5 year old, a 13 year old, and it still doesn’t make sense as a 24 year old.

To take Endeavor's lack of self awareness a step further, because it's important to understand Endeavor to fully understand Dabi, Endeavor has yet to realize his own inherent worth. He doesn't have to prove anything to his family, especially his kids. They love him unconditionally, without special reason aside from the fact that he's theirs and he's himself. However, Endeavor is so obsessed with proving himself that he doesn't realize he never had to, and he projects this onto his children. They must prove themselves by winning the genetic lottery, by being useful to his plans, by surpassing All Might.

The irony that to be a great father he doesn't have to be a hero at all is ugly because Endeavor has no identity outside of being a hero. Endeavor has said before he wants to be a good hero and father to make Shouto proud, but he fails to realize he already had this in Touya all those years ago and it still left him unsatisfied. The issue isn’t his role as a hero, it’s his inner self. In 301 Endeavor literally reaches out to Touya to talk him out of training and hurting himself, and Touya allows his father to touch his shoulders because he wants a bond with his father - any bond. Shouto, on the other hand, wouldn't allow Endeavor to touch him in 167 and slaps his hand away because he doesn’t want Endeavor’s approval. Endeavor doesn't realize Natsuo carries deep abandonment and neglect issues because he wanted to be accepted by his father too (light novel #5) but was ignored. Endeavor doesn't realize he was always good enough by default and that by projecting onto his kids and trying to be the top hero he’s doing the opposite of what he wants. He just keeps pushing away his family.

It’s important to point out Endeavor’s illogical thinking because Touya learned some of these same ideas. Touya repeatedly tries to prove himself without realizing that he was always good enough by default. The problem wasn’t his quirk or his body, but his father’s flawed thinking and self-worth issues. Now as an adult, Dabi is selfish because he's Endeavor's son and emobidies his most negative characteristics. Dabi thinks of his flames as Endeavor's, and he thinks of himself as an extension of Endeavor because that's how Endeavor set him up for life. Touya has no identity to fall back on after his father casts him aside. He was supposed to be Endeavor 2.0, but now that title is Shouto’s. Dabi doesn’t hate Shouto as a person, but he has tricked himself into believing Shouto is their father’s puppet. Shouto is a doll being used by their father with no self agency, and Dabi is going to break all of Endeavor’s toys. It’s nothing personal against Shouto, it’s just Shouto’s bad luck that he happens to be Endeavor’s masterpiece. This is why Dabi doesn’t hurt Shouto when they first meet at the training camp, and why Dabi stops attacking Shouto after Endeavor passes out - it’s not about Shouto. It’s about Endeavor, and breaking Endeavor. Touya is still there trying to be part of his father’s world, only this time not as a hero but as a villain who will end his own suffering. He doesn't want Endeavor to die, he just wants him to suffer, to ruin his dreams. Dabi thinks of it as justice.

But because Touya is still there, there is still that goodness in him, too. His connection to Fuyumi and Natsuo is still there, repressed and compartmentalized. It’s why he calls them affectionately as Fuyumi-chan and Natsu-kun. Touya’s pain is so great he has decided he’d rather end it than to carry on and look elsewhere. He's stuck, rightfully so. He recognizes his mother is a flawed person and ultimately doesn’t blame her for being a victim - she could have done more for her son, but he still sees her and his other siblings, even Shouto, as people who fell victim to Endeavor’s abuse who don't challenge their situation. Dabi sees himself as someone who does stand up to the abuse but doesn’t realize he still wants his father’s attention. He's always wanted it. That's why he went around at 13 condemning his father's treatment of his children but still trained to prove himself. This is part of the reason he became a villain.

Not to mention that Dabi literally can't cry. He has no way to release those emotions, so instead of trying to let them out, he pushes them down. But that doesn't work and is detrimental in the long run. In 290-294 we saw Dabi's flames burn so hot during his confrontation with Endeavor and revealing himself as Touya that his burns have spread. Dabi is afraid of his feelings because of their connection to his flames, but he also uses his feelings to his advantage. He wants to go out in an inferno along with Shouto just to hurt Endeavor and put an end to his own suffering and Endeavor's career. This is why Dabi doesn't bother calming himself down or denying that he never forgot how he was treated when he lived at home. Dabi became emotional in that battlefield, smiling maniacally instead of crying because he physically can't cry. In his mind, if his feelings are going to destroy him, he might as well use them to prove a point. After all, he has experience being used. It's why he was born.

I'm not saying any of these actions or thoughts are healthy or correct or condoned, by the way. Trauma responses don't make logical sense and usually aren't healthy. Knowing how the mind responds to trauma, it's understandable that Touya still wanted his father's attention even if it was abusive. In fact, this is how children often respond to abuse. Their caretaker/parent is all they know and they cling to these figures. Often times when authorities try to remove a child from their abusive parents, the child doesn't want to go because this parent is all they know and they do feel like they love their parent/caretaker. I’m not saying the authorities got involved in this case, because obviously they didn’t, but this same mentality of abused children can be applied to Touya. Touya, in his four year old mind, probably convinced himself that if he was good enough everything would go back to how it used to be.

So, to sum up Dabi’s character, of course he doesn't make any sense. He’s still that hurt 4-5 year old who is trying to protect himself from ever getting hurt like that again while still wanting his father’s validation. Of course he doesn’t want to get close to anyone, not even the League. He doesn't want to be vulnerable or let people in or form connections because the last time that happened he was let down, forsaken, and it hurt so much it literally made him lose control of his quirk to the point he almost died. When Twice is killed, Dabi consoles himself by saying he didn't care anyway, all to prevent another emotional fire. Dabi is a master of compartmentalizing and boxing away his feelings - this is probably why, 310 chapters into BNHA, we have yet to have a few chapters in his POV or his backstory. He's disconnected from himself. He knows his plot to get justice will hurt his siblings and mother and to live with himself and move forward he represses those feelings.

Because of his father not showing up on Sekoto peak, Dabi has to live with physical disabilities due to his scars and memories of burning alive. He doesn't want to go through that again so he lies to himself that he doesn't care about anyone or anything. He denies that he's still in pain while simultaneously seeking validation of his pain. He acts like he doesn't care about his family but still calls them affectionate names. He acts like he hates Endeavor and calls him by his name but still wants his attention. He decided long ago that he would die destroying Endeavor's career because that was the thing Endeavor cares about most of all in this life. It's a "you hurt me so I'll hurt you" mentality. He has tricked himself into thinking this is justice, failing to realize this won't make him feel better if he doesn't die by his own hand along the way.

Dabi is full of resentment and spite, both of which take root from feelings of abandonment, betrayal, and the loss of a purpose and the realization that he wasn't born to be loved for who he was but as a tool for his father. The first betrayal he suffered was in the form of realizing his father didn't love him genuinely, and this was identity-breaking for him. He never recovered from it. The second betrayal, the reinforcer, was his father not showing up to Sekoto Peak. Since then, Dabi is reliving his trauma over and over again the more he uses his quirk and the more he faces Endeavor. To be saved, Dabi needs to accept that he is loved unconditionally and needs to be validated that he was right to feel thrown aside and used.