#bad thing is that now everyone sees me weirder than before

[nomoretumbler]

someone just added lemon demon to my english club playlist….. /pos

[lovebugism]

Virgin!Eddie thoughts?

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure <3

( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.

It’s actually much, much weirder.

It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.

Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”

“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”

“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended. 

He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.  

Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day. 

Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.) 

But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.

“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”

You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of. 

And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.

You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.

“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”

It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.

Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes. 

He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.

He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).

He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.

“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade. 

That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?

From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”

“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.

“I’m kidding, Eds—”

Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.

“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”

“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.

Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.

A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.

“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”

Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.

“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”

“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.

You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.

It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.

It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour. 

He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.

It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.

He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.

It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.

There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.

“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.

Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”

“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”

“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”

You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Cross my heart.”

“Fine.”

“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.

It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.

And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.

It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”

And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.

He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high. 

He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.

It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part. 

Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that. 

That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.

He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.

It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.

He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.

He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater. 

“I can come over tonight, if you want.”

No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.

“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.

“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.

As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.

Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”

“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”

He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.

Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start. 

So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.

Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer. 

At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.

“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.

“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”

He’s never been normal a day in his life either.

Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.

It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?

Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.

Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.

Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”

He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.

He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.

You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.

He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right? 

He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.

He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.

He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.

You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.

“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.

“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.

“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”

You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.

It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.

Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.

You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.

Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.

You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”

“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.

“Cross my heart.”

He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.

The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.

That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.

The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.

Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.

Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.

“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”

“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”

“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”

Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.

“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”

“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.

“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.

“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.’”

Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.

“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.

Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.

He’s as shocked as you are.

He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.

You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.

Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.

You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.

He never does.

He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.

The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.

Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.

Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”

Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”

“Maybe.”

“So what’s the answer?” you pry.

“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.

“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.

“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”

So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”

You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.

“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.

He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.

You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.

He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.

He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he’s doing it right.

His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.

Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.

But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.

It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.

Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.

Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.

For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.

A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.

He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.

“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.

“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his. 

You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.

But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?

The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.

Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”

You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night. 

Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.

“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”

It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.

Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth. 

You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.

Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.

But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.

But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.

You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.

“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.

“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”

He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust. 

You don’t need to know that, though.

“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

[islandofsages]

Hey ! Can I ask for a male!reader that is a 4th or 3rd year at the NRC (in the dorm you want), and Yuu, Grim and Ortho after seeing him just decided to adopt him like their father ?

The reader is the definition of a good father, and Yuu, Grim and Ortho made him sign the adoption contract (give by Azul).

(Maybe the reader can be the boyfriend of Idia ?)

I just want a reverse adoption with Grim, Yuu and Ortho bc they need a good father.

characters: ortho, yuu and grim with fourth year male reader

tags: platonic, fluff, fic format

warnings: none

author's notes: sorry i didnt do the characters separately, i think they would have similar reactions. also reader isnt with idia bc im keeping this blog fairly romance-free :) thank you for giving me an excuse to write fourth year reader tho, the concept is so interesting and fun to explore!! and hes not in any specific dorm, wanted to keep it ambiguous hehe. honestly this whole thing was my own spin so word count: 974 words

You haven't gone back to NRC in a while. Despite the absolute chaos that goes on way more than often in that school, you’ve grown to harbor fondness for that familiarity. Luckily, you're due for a report of the progress of your internship. Instead of merely sending an email to your professor, you’ll go meet up with him yourself and check up on your underclassmen (maybe even get to know the freshmen) in the meantime.

You are just one of the many seniors of NRC but you found that your dorm members are quite fond of you for whatever reason. So when you come back for that short time period, a few of them come to greet you and catch up with you. Apparently, the abandoned dorm is now occupied by not one but two new students. You didn't even know there was an abandoned dorm!

“One of them can't even use magic and came from a different universe or something? And one of them is literally a magical monster! The school totally got weirder when you left, (Y/N),” one of your dorm members explains. You try to imagine it in your head. Yeah, no, if nobody told you that’s exactly what happened, you wouldn’t have known. You only believe the dorm member because you trust them enough.

“Oh, and remember Idia? The one with the robot brother? He’s a housewarden now. And his brother's a student now. He's an actual freshman,” more gossip makes their way to you. Your eyes widen at the news. You feel like you may remember them, the Shroud brothers - you could tell Idia was trying really hard to stay on the down low so you did him a favor and left him alone for the most part.

You don’t stay at your dorm for very long - you did come to NRC for a reason - and that was to send in that report of yours. Though you already dropped it off before checking up on your underclassmen, you plan just walking around school and taking in the sights that were once so familiar to you. And you haven’t even really graduated yet.

You walk down the hallways and say hi to whoever you recognize, basking in that comfortable familiarity. Some friendlier students stop to chat with you and to be perfectly honest, you feel a little old compared to everyone. You don’t mind but what’s rubbing it in is how some of the students are calling you “Dad” to tease you. You know they’re being playful for the most part but you can’t help but feel a little awkward with the nickname.

Then you run into those three.

You recognize the younger Shroud brother - hard not to with his flames for hair - but you can only guess the other two are the new students occupying that abandoned dorm; one’s uniform seems foreign and the other is not even remotely humanoid. They're definitely eye-catching, especially together. And apparently, you're pretty eye-catching too, with the way they lay their eyes on you while you were talking to another student.

The younger Shroud brother leads the group as they make their way to you excitedly. You're already preparing yourself for what you assume is a normal conversation with these kids. Too bad normal is the wrong thing to expect from these three, you will come to know.

“(Y/N)! You’re back at school!” The younger Shroud - Ortho, that’s his name - exclaims as he flies slightly upwards, happy to see you again. The other two look at you curiously, head tilted to the side and all. You offer them a jolly laugh as you tell the other two who you are and update all of them of how your internship is going. They’re eerily silent when you’re relaying your story but you appreciate not being interrupted. ‘What polite freshmen,’ you thought.

Until they aren’t, because they interrupt you with-

“Can you adopt us?!”

Their eyes twinkle as they clasp their hands together and gaze at you with their best puppy-eye look. Oh, they’re being genuine. This is escalating way too quickly - the nickname was weird enough, you’re not sure what to feel about a bunch of age-ambiguous freshmen wanting a fellow (though presumably older) student to adopt them. You sigh and put on your best smile so as to not disappoint them.

Truth be told, it really isn’t as bad or weird as it sounds. People were already teasing you about it so might as well run along with it. But still. Legally adopting these freshmen would still be too much for you to handle. After all, you’re still going to be preoccupied with your internship. You won’t be present for most of their school years and the last thing you want to be is a father who forgot to bring the milk back home.

You tell them you will think about it, in case they were actually joking and you’re somehow dumb enough to not catch on. They agree to allow you to take your time… but then they start muttering about “getting a contract from Azul” and you immediately step in to stop them from taking any drastic measures.

After that whole ordeal, you leave school more exhausted than you thought you would be. After all, three freshmen literally asked you to become their father and adopt them and were about to get you to agree to some contract.  But then, you find out, they turn out to be the best children you’ve ever had. 

They can be a handful, sure - Ortho is way too curious for his own good sometimes, Grim can’t sit still and picks fights with people often, and Yuu is… Yuu. Being a single father is definitely not the easiest thing to do with them as your children.

Yet you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

[ugh-yoongi]

Hi. Can I request a drabble with Jungkook where they’re in a secret relationship and they think their friends are not aware of it but they’re actually really bad at hiding it. Thank you!

decided to combine these two. thank you both for the requests!

this one ran away from me but was really fun, so we're going to ignore the wordcount. hope you both enjoy! <3

obviously

pairing: jungkook x f. reader genre: secret relationship au, roommate au; crack, fluff warnings: two idiots engaging in idiot behavior, swearing, yoongi is tortured by reader's use of emojis, drinking/alcohol, one reference to jungkook wearing women's underwear but it isn't a thing, unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 3.7k

In retrospect, getting married at nineteen wasn’t your brightest idea.

Not your worst, either, because at least you’d chosen well.

There are undoubtedly far worse men to have as your ex-husband than Kim Namjoon, who had also gotten caught up in all those romantic cliches about young love; had also been inflicted with whatever illness made you believe getting married so young was smart and cool; had also woken up one day and thought what the fuck are we doing and asked if you wanted to call it quits.

You did.

And even though you loved Namjoon, over time it turned into that platonic life partner kind of love and not that all-encompassing, love of your life, eternal kind of love. So, Namjoon offered to pay for the divorce with his grad school stipend and took his name off the lease so you could find a new roommate and insisted on meeting up every other week for takeout and cheap alcohol because he had a whole thing about not wanting it to be weird.

Now, here you sit, years removed from the most affectionate and anticlimactic divorce of all time, and you wonder what could be more weird than your ex-husband making you a Tinder profile.

“I know what you like,” he insists, cheeks ruddy from the wine. Namjoon talks endlessly on a good day, but he’s nearly impenetrable when he’s got some merlot in him. “No one’s more qualified to do this than me.” You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Except you, of course,” he hurriedly adds.

“Have you ever stopped to think—”

Namjoon heaves an exaggerated groan, hand to his forehead as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “You have no idea.”

You roll your eyes. “Have you ever stopped to think,” you repeat, “that there might be a reason I don’t have a Tinder? Or any dating profile, for that matter?”

“Yeah, you’re obviously still in love with me,” he jokes, laughing wildly at the absurdity of it; elbows you in the side as he wiggles his eyebrows. What could be weirder than your ex-husband treating you like one of his bros? “But alas, I’ve moved on, and so the time has come for you to also—”

“Either shut up or drink more,” you interject, filling his glass nearly to the brim. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this.”

Namjoon, seemingly out of arguments, simply hums in acknowledgment. Downs half the wine you’d just poured him, because out of the two options you’d presented him with, it’s the more realistic choice. Asks, “What’s your preferred age range?” before snorting another laugh and setting it from 18 to 50 for his own amusement.

“You know, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Why not?” he retorts, and there’s no judgment there, just genuine curiosity. You know he’s just having a laugh, would delete it and never mention it again if you asked him to, but the thing is—

The front door opens, and there stands your roommate, arms full of bags from Daiso. “Hey, ba—”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks when he sees your ex-husband. Coughs to cover the pet name that nearly tumbled out of his mouth and lifts his hand in a wave. Namjoon watches the way the weight of the bags causes the muscles in Jungkook’s forearm to flex and shoots you a look. Maybe he does know what you like, after all.

“Hi, Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook says, polite but still awkward, even after all these years. Can’t seem to shake it, no matter how hard he tries. “What are you two up to?”

Namjoon is none the wiser, used to the hushed awe Jungkook always adopts when he addresses him. Polite and endlessly kind because his mother raised him to never be anything less, but only ever jittery around Namjoon. Doesn’t act like this around any of your other friends; takes Seokjin’s teasing in stride and dishes it right back, but never Namjoon. Would probably rather die.

So Namjoon just waves back, says, “Hi, Jungkook-ah,” before he returns his attention to his phone. Doesn’t look up when you abandon him on the couch to help unpack the bags. Says, “I’m signing her up for Tinder so she can finally get laid,” and also doesn’t look up when Jungkook chokes on an inhale and one of the bags splits in half.

Before he moved in with you, Jungkook lived with Hoseok.

It’d gone great, all things considered. Jungkook couldn’t have asked for a better first roommate, fresh out of high school and his family home and hundreds of kilometers from the salty air of Busan. He’d nearly been sick with anxiety, all green around the edges, and Hoseok had pulled him into a hug and calmed his fraying nerves. Helped him with his homework and taught him how to cook and pecked at his heels like a mother hen when his room got too messy.

Just like he’s doing now.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, not at all able to hide the surprise in his voice when he pulls open the door and finds Hoseok on the other side. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok tuts. “I told you I was coming by this weekend to clean. I haven’t been here in weeks—”

“I know how to clean,” Jungkook argues, face growing warm from misplaced embarrassment, that Hoseok still thinks he’s a dumb kid who doesn’t know any better. “I said you didn’t have to come.”

His hyung’s face softens. “I know you know how to clean, Jungkookie, I’m just… I still feel responsible for you. You’re the first child I raised and released into the world.”

Jungkook sighs. Knows this is a losing argument. Opens the door wide enough to accommodate Hoseok and his bags of cleaning supplies, and doesn’t say a word as he follows Hoseok around the apartment even though he wants to say, I told you so. The entire place is spotless. There’s nothing to clean. No dust on the floor. Sparkling kitchen countertops. Laundry freshly-washed and hung on the drying rack by the window, warm in the midday sun. No toothpaste in the bathroom sink; no hard water stains on the shower glass.

All that’s left is Jungkook’s bedroom. That, too, is spotless, and Hoseok has never had a poker face and certainly can’t muster one now. “Why is it so clean in here?” he asks, taking in the bare floor, void of dirty clothes and whatever hobby equipment Jungkook had taken up that week; the pristinely-made bed with its hospital corners and fluffed pillows; the end tables that are suspiciously void of dust.

“Because I know how to clean,” Jungkook tartly replies, rolling his eyes. “I told you, there’s—”

“Are you even living in here?” Hoseok continues, either oblivious to or pointedly ignoring the way Jungkook starts to panic. “Because it doesn’t smell weird, either, and we all know that wasn’t the case before.”

“I have an air freshener.”

“Uh-huh.”

Hoseok continues his search. Actually praises Jungkook on the way he’d organized his clothes, the fact that everything in his drawers is folded and not shoved in haphazardly, that the few nice pieces he owns are hung in the closet. Kneels on the floor to check under the bed: empty, except for the XBox controller Taehyung had left behind the last time he came over to binge Valorant.

And Jungkook should’ve known—should’ve anticipated this—because it’s his Hobi-hyung and if there’s anything his Hobi-hyung is neurotic about it’s cleanliness and he’s got eyes like a hawk, makes him deadly efficient at spotting dust, so it’s really no surprise when he lets out a shrill a-ha! and pops out from under the bed with a pair of lacy underwear pinched between his fingers, but Jungkook should’ve anticipated it, anyway.

“And what do we have here?”

What Hoseok has here is Jungkook’s favorite pair of your underwear, but he can’t say that, so he just feels the way his face flushes with embarrassment again and wonders if he’d get out of the impending interrogation if he starts crying. “Um. Nothing?”

“Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” Hoseok continues, voice animated and lilting, the teasing smile evident even though Jungkook can’t bring himself to look. “Can’t believe my little Jungkookie is all grown up.”

Jungkook doesn’t feel grown up, he feels mortified. Feels like he wants to sink right through the floor, like he wants to disappear for three to five business years. Feels like an idiot for being so insistent on all this secrecy, because now he can’t tell Hoseok that the lacy underwear he’s inspecting belongs to you and that the two of you have been together for a while, that it’s great, Jungkook thinks this might be It, and all he can do is blurt out the first thing he can think of, which is—

“It’s mine.” Hoseok’s head turns so fast his neck creaks. “I’m, uh. Experimenting.”

Hoseok shrieks. Jungkook shrieks. “What the fuck,” Hoseok shrieks again as he drops the underwear to the floor and kicks it under the bed. “Why wouldn’t you just say that—”

“That’s what you get for going through my stuff!”

Hoseok doesn’t come over to clean again.

On the weeks you don’t see Namjoon, you spend your Fridays having game night at Jimin’s.

It’s always a raucous affair—wouldn’t be possible any other way with the friend group you’ve got, now seamlessly blended with Jungkook’s—and it’s always your responsibility to supply the snacks. You pop into the store after work, leave with your arms full of junk like you looted the place, and the man in front of you in line takes so long you miss the bus and have to wait for the next.

Which leaves you very little time to get ready, so you rush through a shower to rinse off the work grime and grab the first pair of leggings and sweatshirt you see, slip your feet into slides that may or may not be yours, and run down the hall to Jimin’s.

Laughter can be heard from just outside the door—Hobi’s and Jin’s louder than everyone—and it makes you smile. Warmth blooms in your chest, all affection, and it has you feeling terribly fond of this group you’ve cobbled together. Has you smiling wider as you punch in Jimin’s door code and let yourself inside. Has you dropping off the snacks in the kitchen and wanting to hug the first person you find, except one Park Jimin has other plans.

“Why are you wearing Jungkookie’s hoodie?” he says in lieu of a greeting.

You look down. Certainly is Jungkook’s hoodie, mixed in with the clean laundry you hadn’t gotten around to putting away yet, and you’re sure there’s no hiding the way your jaw drops a little. The man in question is across the room, stuck in a conversation about fuck knows what with Taehyung, and he sends you a panicked look that can only be an instruction to lie your ass off. So you huff, say, “What d’you mean? This is mine,” and paint on the most annoyed expression you can conjure.

“It absolutely is not yours,” Jimin retorts.

This time you look annoyed for real. “Ugh, who cares? Since when did you become an expert on our personal belongings?”

When you first met Jimin, you’d been tricked into thinking he was a sweet, innocent angel; the kind of person who would do anything for his loved ones, including not interrogating them over whose clothes they wear. Quickly, you learned this was not the case. Jimin is lovely and kind, but he’s also perceptive as hell and shameless, so he smirks knowingly and answers with, “Since I bought them.”

Which… makes sense, you can admit. You vaguely recall Jungkook’s last birthday and the way he’d gasped and insisted on Jimin returning the hoodie he’d gifted him because it was too expensive and the way Jimin had laughed and waved him off, because Jungkook has always been his favorite and he’s never attempted to hide it. The hoodie you’re wearing now could, theoretically, be that exact gift. It’s definitely soft enough to be made from something expensive.

“Oh,” you reply, changing gears entirely. “Well, you know how it is. Sometimes laundry gets mixed up. I’m sure you and Taehyung have worn each other’s clothes by accident, too.”

Jimin doesn’t buy it, you can tell, but he thankfully drops the issue. Watches you and Jungkook like a hawk for the rest of the night, just waiting to capitalize on any other slip-ups, but you purposely fall into a conversation with Yoongi that’s too boring for any normal human to follow along with, and Jungkook calls dibs on Mario Kart until someone can beat him, so there are no slip-ups to catch.

However, if the one constant of your friend group is that Jungkook is Jimin’s favorite regardless of Taehyung’s pouting, the second is that Jung Hoseok cannot hold his liquor.

He’s four mixed drinks deep, skin flushed and eyes half-lidded with sleep, when he stands on top of Taehyung and Jimin’s coffee table and shouts, for everyone to hear, “Hey, did you guys know Jungkookie started wearing women’s underwear?”

For once, this comes as a complete shock to you, too.

The thing about being in love, Jungkook finds, is that it’s nearly impossible to shut up about it.

He’s trying to be cool. He’s trying to be normal. He feigns delight and care when his coworkers talk about their partners, pretends he’s paying attention and not just waiting for his turn to talk about you. He prints pictures of the two of you off his phone and frames them and displays them at his desk, and all someone has to say is, “That’s a cute picture, Jungkook-ssi—” before all his affection for you erupts out of him like a volcano.

So far he’s been careful. His coworkers are sick of hearing about you, but they’re an outlet for everyone he can’t talk about you with. Like his friends, because he’d decided early on it was better to keep everything a secret for a little bit because he didn’t want things to be weird (and because he’s low-key terrified of Namjoon, because he’s gentle and clumsy but he’s still big) and now he’s regretting it but it feels like it’s gone on too long and he’s in too deep.

Really, it’s no surprise he slips up. Has probably been overdue for one like this for a while.

They’re at the arcade. Taehyung has sunk the last of his disposable income for the week into a claw machine stocked with LINE characters. Wants to win a Sally plushie for Jimin because he says they look alike. It’s cute, the bond they have, platonic soulmates the way you and Namjoon are, and Jungkook is starry-eyed and love-drunk when he heaves a wistful sigh and thinks out loud, “I should win something for her, too.”

The words catch Taehyung so off-guard his hand slips and presses the button to lower the claw. “Press it again,” Jungkook says. “If you double-press the button, it makes the claw stronger. You’ll get it.”

Taehyung is wary, still dazed from Jungkook’s slip-up, but he presses the button again anyway. The claw tightens around Sally’s head and drags her up and out of the pile, drops her into the chute and to Taehyung’s waiting hand. “Oh shit! Jungkookie, you’re a genius. Jimin’s gonna love this.”

“Yeah, sure. Didn’t know you didn’t know that trick or I would’ve told you sooner.”

His hyung nods absentmindedly, distracted with the selfie he’s sending to Jimin with Sally obscuring half his face. “Are you gonna try now?”

Jungkook swallows. “Huh?”

“You said you were gonna win something for someone.”

“No I didn’t,” he lies.

Taehyung’s face drops. Gets all serious when he shoves his phone in his back pocket. “Yes you did. Right before I won this,” he says, large hands wrapped around Sally’s poor neck, clearly strangling her. “You said I should win something for her, too. Who’s ‘her’? Are you seeing someone?”

“I said him, hyung,” he lies again. Is thankful for the garish arcade lights and the way they hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I meant Jimin-hyung.”

“You did not,” Taehyung insists. “You said her, and now you’re trying to gaslight me—”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Feigns exasperation. Swipes his game card and stares his hyung right in the eye as he drops the claw and double-taps, somehow picking up two plushies. Tosses Brown to Taehyung and says, “Tell Jimin his favorite dongsaeng won him that one.”

Tucks Cony safely in his pocket to give to you later, thankful the universe came through for him for once.

You (10:42pm): babe

You (10:42pm): what time do you think you’ll be home?

You (10:43pm): 🍆🍆🍆

Yoongi (11:06pm): What the fuck

You (11:08pm): oh fuck

You (11:08pm): that was NOT meant for you

Yoongi (11:14pm): Fucking obviously

Yoongi (11:14pm): Please do not ever accidentally sext me again

You (11:15pm): gross yoongi

You (11:15pm): that wasn’t a sext

You (11:15pm): i need it for the bokkeum i’m making

Yoongi (11:17pm): At midnight? Fuck off

Yoongi (11:17pm): Trade proposal

Yoongi (11:17pm): You never accidentally sext me again and I won’t tell the rest of our friends you’re secretly dating your roommate

You (11:29pm): it’s not even midnight 🙄

You (11:29pm): but that sounds good to me, thanks!

Hoseok had taught Jungkook how to cook, but not how to bake.

They’d attempted it, once, not long after Jungkook moved to Seoul and was homesick and missing his mom’s yaksik something terrible. Just wanted something that tasted like home, something comforting, and Hoseok had felt so bad for him that he said fuck it, let’s try, what’s the worst that could happen, and the two of them learned very quickly that nearly burning down their kitchen and the rest of their building was, in fact, the worst thing that could happen.

They never tried baking a damn thing after that, individually or together.

Still, there’s a special occasion coming up, so Jungkook asks the only person he trusts to help him.

“You need a cake,” Seokjin intones, swallowing his smile when Jungkook nods and his mop of curls bobbles along. Takes out a notepad to jot down ideas. “What’s the occasion?”

“Um. Just an… occasion.”

Seokjin blinks owlishly. “You just need a cake for an occasion? Do you wanna try again and actually be helpful this time?”

“What does it matter if I’m paying you, hyung?” Jungkook whines. “Aren’t cakes all the same?”

“Not if you want me to decorate it—”

“I don’t.”

“—because what am I supposed to write on it? Happy occasion, person whose name Jungkookie won’t tell me! Do you see how that might not work out for either of us?”

“Again, what does it matter—”

Seokjin looks up from his notepad, brows furrowed. “Are you ordering this for the president? What’s with all the secrecy?”

Jungkook huffs, puts on his Very Serious Face. “I can just take my business elsewhere if you’re going to interrogate me, hyung,” he says, to which Seokjin rolls his eyes, used to Jungkook’s dramatics.

“Be my guest,” he calls his bluff, gesturing to the front door of the bakery. “No one else is going to give you as good a discount as me, though.”

“I bet Junghwan-ssi would,” Jungkook grumbles, low but loud enough for Seokjin to hear, because there isn’t much else Jungkook can say that’d get under his hyung’s skin as much as the mention of his arch nemesis. “I bet I could walk into his bakery right now and explain the whole situation to him and he’d practically give it to me for free, just so it meant you didn’t get my business.”

And it works. Seokjin’s eyes narrow, chest starts heaving. “You wouldn’t,” he accuses, and Jungkook just shrugs, nonplussed, daring Seokjin to find out.

What follows can only be described as a tense standoff: Seokjin behind the counter of his bakery, looking hilariously underdressed for this stalemate in his pink apron, armed only with a pen; Jungkook, looking smug and pleased on the other side, not even knowing what Junghwan’s bakery is called, let alone where it is. The bell above the door chimes and neither breaks eye contact to look, and it’d probably go on like this forever, knowing the two of them, except the person behind Jungkook clears their throat, asks, “Excuse me, are you in line…?” and Seokjin is forced to concede if he wants to stay in business.

The person orders a cake for their daughter’s birthday. Answers each of Seokjin’s questions with certainty and preparedness, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the looks Seokjin shoots at him. See how easy it is to answer simple questions? they say. Why can’t you be like this?

Jungkook can’t be like that because the cake is for your birthday. Which Seokjin knows, because he has all of his friends’ birthdays saved to his phone calendar, but he’s never gone out of his way to get you a cake before so Seokjin will absolutely know something’s up. And as he waits for the person to be done ordering, his heart aches a little, because he wants to tell Seokjin to make you the nicest cake he can. Wants him to pull out all the stops, because it’s your birthday and you deserve it, and he could say all those things if he hadn’t insisted on this stupid secrecy.

Guilt consumes him so entirely he doesn’t notice the person leaving. Doesn’t hear the chime of the bell above the door. Is halfway to spilling the entire story to Seokjin, gets as far as hyung, there’s something I— before Seokjin holds up a hand to stop him.

“What kind of cake would you like, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook deflates. Takes all those transgressions he was about to confess to and shoves them back inside his chest, locks them away. “Whatever you think is best, hyung. Just no nuts.”

And Seokjin smirks knowingly, because there’s only one person he knows with a nut allergy.

[jamorbital]

Mailbag III ✉️

Wow, there were a bunch this time. Thanks everyone!

@theloramir:

Me! 😷

If that doesn't count… Hmm. Cynthia from Pokémon? Or maybe Tifa?

@scout90-again:

I've been interested in it for as long as I can remember. Even when I was really little, I liked to tie up dolls with string and put pieces of tape on their mouths. A bit more on that in an earlier ask here.

(MORE UNDER THE CUT)

@noteverysaurisadinosaur:

Uhhh... I'm gonna say... Golden Toad. I like Dodos too, but I'm guessing that's the "everything but country and rap" of this question.

@directivexero:

Aw thanks!

Lately I've been slowly making my way through The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles! I play it in bed each night to settle in before I go to sleep. It's like a good book. The fickleness of the jurors always makes me laugh.

Another recent one I liked: Thank Goodness You're Here! It's basically a little interactive animated movie. Matt Berry is in it. I once saw it described as "Untitled Twat Game"

Deadly Premonition is the worst game I've ever played by conventional standards, but I'd still recommend it because it's bad in really fun ways. Bring some friends and a case of beer.

I like games that provoke a strong reaction. I'd rather play something like DP than a "good" big-budget game that's smooth and pleasing but not all that memorable.

Also on the topic of weird games: This is the secret best channel on YouTube. The more you watch, the better it gets. I mean idk, maybe other people don't see it and I'm just deranged. Still though. I've cried laughing at some of these.

@patientbard:

Summer! Lots of happy memories from childhood. I like to swim.

@nixalegos:

I don't often try to go for a specific texture, but when I do it can be tricky. In real life I love soft jersey knit fabric. Despite my best efforts, I haven't been able to nail it in 2D in a way that really scratches that kinky itch.

In general, my drawings rarely come out the way I pictured them in my head. (I think that's how it is for most artists?) If it's looking really off then I might redraw a character or body part from scratch, but for the most part I just go with the flow.

@accretion-disk-anxiety:

To eat, crab; to not eat, turtle.

@damianblack:

I'm not really into furries, but I like furries as people. They seem like fun and I admire how welcoming and liberated their community is.

For a while I've had "draw an anthro character" on my bucket list. I think it'd be a fun challenge and drawing a gag for an anthro snout could be hot tbh.

@onidrills:

What was that thing from Jurassic Park with the big neck thing and the venom? Dilophosaurus?

Aw man...

@goodboynijian:

Thank you!

For proudest: Maybe animation loops?

They're not as elaborate as some other stuff I've done, but seeing an animation come together just feels so satisfying.

For hottest: I gravitate toward a certain weirder type of piece where I draw myself (or "myself") with super-exaggerated proportions and/or humiliating captions:

It feels exciting to just go totally off the wall. I get turned on not just by drawing these, but also posting them. I guess it's kind of a public humiliation/exhibitionism thing. (Actually, that's exactly what it is.)

I used to put them up on Twitter, but it got a little too weird and embarrassing. Now I keep them behind the safety of the paywall.

@t-oppenheimer:

Smash if that counts! I used to attend locals weekly and was decently competitive at my peak. I stopped going in 2020 due to covid and never got back into it after that. I still play with friends here and there though. I'm a Wolf main. 🐺

I've also done a little SF6, but I'm still in The Cursed Zone on that one.

@microfoamgaglover:

Yes

(old pic!)

Thanks again to everyone who sent in questions! I'm feeling better now than I was this morning. If I didn't respond to you, it just means I couldn't think of anything interesting to say. I appreciate it all the same.

[neverenoughmarauders]

Hi! what are your thoughts on the ever present fanon idea that James repeatedly asks Lily to date him before she finally concedes (he pesters her tbh)?

I feel like this throws a lot of people off of Jily as it just adds a bit of creepiness to the ship and makes it weirder for Lily to get with James considering this behaviour, after what must’ve been a fair amount of reckoning since he tormented her childhood best friend for years. Like even if Lily hated Snape at this point I don’t think she’d forget how James treated him easily and let James off the hook without a proper reckoning so adding pestering behaviour to that dynamic just makes their relationship more unlikely ya know. Honestly just tryna find reasons why fandom in general dislike Jily more than jegulus atp.

Hi anon

This idea that James repeatedly asked Lily out I think far precedes Jegulus. In my youth, the few fics I engaged with (often because my best friend kindly helped translate them) seemed to position it as a very cute thing - although it always annoyed me even then, because it has no basis in canon. The day and age where James persistently asking Lily out was seen as cute are over, and now this fanon idea is presented in favour of Jegulus or Snily.

Actually, as an aside, in general the marauders' story is one that has aged poorly... You can't really view the marauders without the lens of it being the 70s and during a wizarding world war - but people do and it completely changes everything.

How do I feel about it?

I feel the same way about this as I do with all fanon ideas that get presented as evidence. It drives me up the wall no end. We all get carried away with our own interpretations and that's fine, but if people cannot separate canon from interpretation of canon /headcanon from fanon, how can we have an informed debate?

Canon:

"Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?” “I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” ... “I didn’t mean — I just don’t want to see you made a fool of — He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not ... everyone thinks ... big Quidditch hero — ” Snape’s bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

My interpretation of canon:

The conversation between Snape and Lily to me indicates that it is a relatively new development (which means sometimes not long before/after the whomping willow incident). At this point I think it's hard to argue that James has asked Lily out - why on earth would Snape feel the need to point out that James fancies her if this be the case.

Canon:

“I will if you go out with me, Evans,” said James quickly. “Go on ... Go out with me, and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.” ... “I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily. “Bad luck, Prongs,” said Sirius briskly, turning back to Snape. ... “There you go,” he said, as Snape struggled to his feet again, “you’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus — ” “I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!” Lily blinked. “Fine,” she said coolly. “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.” ... “What is it with her?” said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him. “Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,” said Sirius. “Right,” said James, who looked furious now, “right"

Also canon: Lily found James attractive at this point, despite not liking him very much. It was confirmed in an interview, in response to whether or not Lily hated James, but as we know even from the source text:

“How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!” “Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius.

My interpretation of canon:

James is being an immature d***. That aside, nothing about this dialogue suggests to me that James has ever asked Lily out before. Why? James looks FURIOUS at the rejection, he does not give off the vibes of someone who has routinely been rejected by Lily.

There's also the small stuff which doesn't by itself mean anything but which adds up, such as Sirius' and Snape's reaction. Sirius doesn't come across as someone who has seen this a hundred times. He's obviously far less affected or surprised by the outcome, but that's not the same thing. Snape completely loses it with Lily - why? It's not the first time James and Sirius has bullied him, but if it's the first time Snape has listened to James ask her out - worse still, use him to ask her out, he might be furious. He told her so, didn't he? James Potter fancied her.

My headcanon:

We know Lily found James attractive, and that James is shocked to be rejected. We also know Snape is nervous that Lily might be falling for James: 'I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are' Why? Probably because by now Lily and James have flirted a little on and off. If Lily spoke the way she spoke to James by the lake - if James routinely asked Lily out - then the conversation between Severus and Lily makes no sense.

If people want to like Jegulus, they can. Personally, I think Jily holds everything I want from an "enemies" to lovers trope, and if I want another trope it's usually best friends to lovers, and I've got prongsfoot for that. Or if I am feeling like I want both, there's always Jilypad <3

[whisker-biscuit]

Sonic Big Bang 2024

Close Encounters of the Grim Kind

Rating: Gen

Summary: Sonic did end up telling his friends about the Shatterverse, but it’s clear to Tails that he's still hiding something. In an effort to find answers and with Shadow’s reluctant help, he uses the Paradox Prism to create a device capable of jumping dimensions. When he sends it out, however, what was meant to be a one-way trip returns to him with a cryptic greeting from a stranger who seems interested in researching the dimensions with him.

Now, Tails finds himself trying to solve two mysteries - why Sonic is acting so weird around him, and who this unorthodox, anonymous cross-dimensional pen pal really is.

It's a lot harder than it looks.

--------------------------------------------

Chapter 1

The day Sonic finally told his friends about the Shatterverse and all that entailed within it, Tails had no idea how significant it would truly end up being.

He, his brother, Amy, and Knuckles were gathered together at the beach. The fox was in the pilot seat of the plane, adjusting some of the inner controls, while everyone else lounged about. They all listened with rapt attention as Sonic described the disaster that would have happened had he smashed into the Paradox Prism – the disaster that had already happened, if events were to be believed.

Frankly, it wasn’t very hard to go along with the idea. Weirder stuff went on in their lives at least twice a year; dimensional and/or timeline shenanigans sounded like par for the course.

“A bunch of miniature dimensions, huh?” Tails drummed his fingers against his screwdriver, thinking about the logistics of such a thing. Alternate universes were an aspect of quantum physics that he’d never delved very deep in.

“Yep! There was a pirate dimension, a jungle dimension, and even a dimension with five Eggmans!” Sonic shuddered and stuck out his tongue. “I always thought ours was bad enough, but then I met an Eggman baby. That’s one memory I’ll never be able to get rid of.”

“Did you kick the Eggman baby’s butt?”

“Knuckles!” Amy scolded.

“What?” The echidna asked defensively. “It’s a valid question! If that version of Eggman was still evil, then I don’t see why you wouldn’t also teach him a lesson.”

“Oh, trust me, he was definitely evil. Kicking his butt was extremely satisfying.”

Knuckles folded his arms with a self-satisfied smirk he tossed Amy’s way. She huffed and rolled her eyes, gesturing for Sonic to continue his story.

“There weren’t just other versions of Eggman, though,” he said with an excited gleam in his eye. “Every dimension I visited had new versions of you guys! Even Rouge and Big and Froggy!”

“Ooh, really?” Amy clasped her hands together. “What were we all like?”

“Well, the pirate versions of you all talked with these funny accents and were on a ship’s crew together. Knuckles was your captain but he was a big bonehead.”

“Hey!”

Tails smiled, going back to the wiring in the Tornado as he listened to the hedgehog tell them all about this strange new adventure that he’d found himself in. One eye he kept on his work, the other he kept on Sonic to show he was still paying attention, tuned into the rhythm of his brother’s storytelling just as much as the words themselves – and that was the only reason he caught the stumble.

Sonic was in the process of telling them how the Chaos Council had put the entire Shatterverse in jeopardy by punching holes between dimensions using shards of the Paradox Prism, and that he, Shadow, and an alternate version of Tails had stolen the shards back and were planning to put the prism back together. Then he paused, very briefly, and sheepishly admitted that they were unsuccessful before the Council had caught up.

That pause had been barely half a second long, but for the hedgehog it might as well have been a full minute. Tails stopped working as Knuckles began teasing Sonic for letting any version of Eggman be faster than him. He watched his brother carefully, noting the tension in his quills that the fox could only see from his place in the cockpit above. To the others, it seemed like Sonic was embarrassed about his failure, but Tails knew that wasn’t what it was.

Embarrassment was fidgeting in place and wanting to change the subject immediately. It was not standing rigidly with fingers twitching like they wanted to curl into fists, nor was it too-loud laughter at the ribbing his friends were giving him.

The fox quietly placed his tools in his lap and turned his full attention onto his brother.

When the teasing finally stopped and Sonic got back to the rest of his story, it felt different than before. More pauses, shorter descriptions of events, and vague answers to questions about how the Shatterverse was saved from ripping itself apart. The hedgehog’s expression was tight with sadness as he told them of the goodbyes he’d shared with all the different versions of his friends before he and Shadow found their way back to Green Hill.

“Don’t get me wrong, I was so excited to see you guys again – the real yous instead of those weird ghost holograms – but I also knew it was a permanent goodbye for them. All those different versions of you…they were still their own people, with their own goals and dreams and lives. I got to know each of them, and it was hard to walk away knowing I’d never see any of them again.”

“It’s not like you to dwell on goodbyes,” Amy said gently.

“I know. I just…” Sonic glanced up at Tails, then looked away immediately before their gazes could properly meet. The fox narrowed his eyes in confusion. “It was really bittersweet, in the end. I wish you all could have met each other.”

As Amy pondered over what her “sisters” might have been like and Knuckles pointedly declared that the other hims would have probably just gotten on his nerves, Tails’ namesakes curled around each other in a slow mimic of his flying movements. It seemed like the hedgehog was simply melancholy over the loss of his new friends, but it still felt…off. Like there was something he hadn’t told them, or even something that Tails had missed, that was obscuring the whole picture of his experience.

He briefly considered asking Sonic outright when they were alone later, then immediately nixed the idea. His brother was open about nearly everything right up until he suddenly wasn’t, and then pulling information from him was just as hard as convincing Knuckles to part with the Master Emerald for more than a week.

“Do you think the other dimensions are still out there even though you put the Paradox Prism back together?”

Everyone fell silent as they all looked up at the fox. Sonic’s mouth pulled sideways like he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“I mean, I assumed they are. Don’t really like thinking of the alternative.”

“I’m sure they are!” Amy was quick to reassure. “You can’t just unmake a bunch of worlds once they exist, right? And you said it yourself, Sonic – the Shatterverse collapsing only happened because the Eggmen misused the Prism Shards. All you did was make them whole again.”

Tails tapped the end of his screwdriver twice against the Tornado’s steering wheel. An idea was starting to develop in his mind, formed from a swirl of thoughts and his admittedly shallow knowledge of Quantum Physics. He kept it to himself, however, as he continued to study his brother’s body language and the tension still present there.

Just a few days later, that particular tension was gone from Sonic but the idea was still firmly in the fox’s head. He took every physics book he had that touched the subject, plus several that were “liberated” from one of Eggman’s laboratory libraries, and began researching. It didn’t take very long for him to conclude that no matter what theories he read about, or potential blueprints he began to draw up, he wasn’t going to make it very far on speculation alone.

If this idea was to become tangible, then he needed the Paradox Prism. And achieving that, Tails remembered with a grimace, would be more difficult than any mathematics he puzzled through.

He could only hope that its keeper would be in a good mood.

-------------------------------------------------

Contrary to popular belief, Shadow was not particularly difficult to find. He was a creature of habit, much like Sonic. The real issue was that those habits tended to seem erratic at best and completely nonsensical at worst to anyone who didn’t know them well. To the average person, Sonic was flighty and never settled down in one place for long, and Shadow just couldn’t be found to begin with.

But Tails was not an average person, and he had a lot of experience in tracking down speedy hedgehogs.

There was a large waterfall in Green Hill that overlooked an even larger lake. It cascaded constantly down from a giant cliffside that was difficult to climb and get down from. Sonic avoided the area entirely unless absolutely necessary, but Tails loved to practice his aerial maneuvers there. It was for those three reasons – his many visits, the general seclusion, and the consistent lack of Sonic – that the fox knew how much Shadow preferred the place, too.

It was here that he looked for the black hedgehog first. He started at the base of the cliff, shielding his eyes against the sun as he peered up past the waterfall while lake water lapped just a few inches short of his shoes. After a minute or so of squinting and scanning, Tails caught sight of a dark figure standing at the very top of the cliff, arms folded and looking out at the scenery.

Excited, the fox began to fly up towards him, making his presence known as obviously as possible so Shadow knew he wanted to talk. He felt the moment those piercing red eyes snapped over to him. The fur on the back of his neck prickled by instincts honed from years of Eggman battles before settling down immediately afterward, recognizing the gaze as non-threatening.

That didn’t mean the hedgehog was happy to see him, though. Irritation was visible in every line of his face when Tails touched down a few feet away from him.

“Is Sonic with you?” Shadow asked, in a tone of voice that suggested he was going to teleport at the first syllable of a ‘yes.’

“No, he doesn’t know I’m here. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

One black-furred eyebrow rose in mild surprise. He tilted his head the tiniest bit forward to acknowledge he was listening.

Tails took a deep breath and took the plunge without wasting another second. “I know you have the Paradox Prism. I was hoping to run some tests –”

“No.”

The answer came so strong and curt that it made Tails’ mouth click shut before he even registered what was said. He blinked, caught off guard by both the reaction and the way Shadow’s entire body seemed to tense. It almost looked like he thought the fox was going to attack him, which was as bizarre an assessment to make as the realization that Shadow saw him as a viable threat.

“Why not?” He asked, thoroughly confused. “I didn’t even tell you what kind of tests I’d be conducting.”

“It doesn’t matter what kind; the answer remains the same. The Paradox Prism isn’t something to be tampered with.”

Tails resisted the urge to let out a huff. “I’m not going to tamper with it. I just want to learn more about those other dimensions Sonic was talking about.”

“Then ask him about them and stop wasting my time.”

The hedgehog turned on his heel and began walking away. The hum of his hover shoes coming to life threatened only a few seconds left before he disappeared entirely. Tails knew his one and only chance was slipping out of his grasp.

He didn’t think; what came out of his mouth next was pure panic.

“I think something’s wrong with Sonic!”

Shadow froze mid-step. The fox blinked and then suddenly they were an inch apart. That unreadable glare seemed twice as potent now as it searched his face for any kind of deception.

“…Elaborate,” the hedgehog finally said in a quiet yet uncompromising demand.

“W-Well, he told us about the Shatterverse, and you guys trying to get home, but I feel like he’s…omitting things?” Tails paused, thinking over the last week or so. “He’s been clingier, too. He wants to hang out with everyone more than usual. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him plan so many get-togethers before now.”

Bringing everyone together had usually been Amy’s or Tails’ idea, and Sonic always popped in at the last minute or stumbled into the group in the middle of a run. Now, he was asking them all to hang out so often that Knuckles had threatened to slug him if he didn’t leave him alone for at least a day.

“And then, yesterday…he got really upset when he couldn’t find me.”

Tails remembered it vividly. He’d made an impromptu trip to the nearest junkyard in search of parts for his idea, forgetting to leave a note for potential visitors because of how short the excursion was, and had come back to his workshop in disarray and one agitated hedgehog looking ready to tear down the walls in search of him. His brother had grabbed him in a tight hug without any words, visibly shaking, and had stayed with him in the workshop for hours afterward. There hadn’t been any explanation; Sonic had remained tight-lipped in embarrassment and so Tails had assumed it had to do with the brief loss of his friends during his Shatterverse adventure.

But putting that odd encounter alongside the clinginess and simultaneous avoidance now, it was starting to paint a much more concerning picture. The fox wanted to kick himself for not connecting the dots sooner. Hyper-fixating on a new invention was no excuse.

Shadow was still watching him. Tails took a deep breath and spread his hands out in an honest, pleading gesture.

“I’m just really worried about him. I think there’s stuff he’s not telling me, and I don’t know how to approach him about it.”

“What makes you think studying the Paradox Prism will help with that?” The hedgehog’s voice was flat but no longer as harsh. He had a funny look in his eye that was impossible to place.

“I want to figure out whether those other dimensions are still out there. If they are, I think it will perk Sonic up. But the only way I’ll know for sure is with the Prism’s help.”

Silence floated between them for a long time. Tails swallowed the urge to continue making his case, and instead waited as patiently as he could for Shadow to come to a decision. A myriad of emotions flitted across the other’s face, all small and fleeting and unreadable.

“…Fine. I’ll let you look at it.”

“Really?” The fox gasped, excited, but Shadow held up a hand before he could say anything else.

“On three conditions. One: that I’m present the entire time you’re with it. Two: that you do exactly what you told me you want to do and nothing more. No using it to power machines unless it’s explicitly for finding other dimensions, no tampering with it or trying to break it apart, and no additional investigations. I don’t care how fascinated you are with it.”

“Okay, I can do all of that. What’s the third condition?”

“That you don’t involve Sonic in your studies.”

Tails frowned. “Why would I involve –”

“Agree to all the terms, Fox, or you’re not seeing a hint of that crystal.”

“I agree!” He replied, quick as he could before the hedgehog changed his mind. “You’ll be with me the whole time, I won’t mess with it, and Sonic stays out of the process.”

“Good.”

With the deal struck, Shadow nodded once before walking off again. The fox watched him, uncertain, until he threw a glance over his shoulder.

“Are you coming or not?”

Tails didn’t need to be asked twice.

-------------------------------------------------

And so, two hours later, they were both back in Tails’ workshop with the Paradox Prism floating innocently in the middle of a containment chamber. Shadow leaned against the closed garage door – which he had demanded stay locked while they were working – eating out of the can of raw coffee beans he’d requested when Tails had offered food. It would have been quite the sight if he wasn’t already used to the bizarre black hole of a stomach that belonged to his brother.

Maybe liking weird food was just a hedgehog thing.

The fox, meanwhile, was in the middle of making complex calculations as he studied the Prism, adjusting for energy levels and power output with every spike that appeared on his scanner. He was quickly realizing that developing technology that could reliably run on this energy was going to be a careful balancing act; it fluctuated sporadically in seemingly indecipherable patterns, and every sudden jump was volatile at best, downright dangerous at worst.

If not for all his research into chaos energy, handling the Prism would’ve been infinitely harder. Their properties weren’t all too dissimilar, now that the thought crossed his mind, and it took a lot of willpower not to get sidetracked by that line of theorizing. The promise he’d made to Shadow was one he intended to keep no matter how painful it was for his scientific mind to ignore every other possibility.

“What are you doing now?”

The hedgehog’s question broke the melody of furious pencil scribbling. It was a common occurrence while Tails worked; he barely even glanced up when he answered.

“I think I’ve finally isolated the most benign wavelengths of energy the Paradox Prism is giving off. Using that, I can power the interdimensional device without risk of it exploding.”

“What is this interdimensional device for?” Shadow asked, suddenly right behind him.

Tails absolutely did not jump, but the grip on his pencil went tight as he pulled back from his blueprints a bit to blink owlishly at his suspicious companion. “I told you already – it’s to determine whether those miniature dimensions still exist.”

“How is it going to do that, exactly?”

The fox resisted a great urge to sigh. “It’s just going to be a probe. If prism energy is capable of making things jump between dimensions like Sonic said, then even a tiny amount will make my invention cross the theoretical inter-dimensional barrier and hopefully tell me what’s out there.”

“Hmph.” Shadow’s eyes darted across the schematics laid out on the table. It was hard to tell how much of it he understood, but Tails had a feeling it was more than most people usually could. “Remember: only for this function.”

“Loud and clear, sir,” he mumbled with a roll of his eyes before he could stop himself. The hedgehog’s glare sharpened considerably, but he went back to his place against the door to finish off his coffee beans without another word.

Now that Tails had successfully found a safe power source from the Prism, it was time to actually build the device that would make use of it. He wasted no time getting to work – grabbing scrap metal and wiring and as many tools as he could carry, then starting the process of putting together his newest invention piece by piece. Just like with anything powered by the chaos emeralds, the probe couldn’t simply be built and then pumped full of Prism energy. Every aspect and every addition had to be tested for durability. If it could channel its power source without issue, then he moved onto the next section and repeated the testing process. If it couldn’t, then he had to rework his calculations completely until it wasn’t at risk of frying from a single jolt of energy.

A tedious endeavor, but one he enjoyed wholeheartedly just for the way it occupied his mind. The fact that success meant a new, fully-functional invention was just the icing on the cake.

When at long last the fox was satisfied that his interdimensional probe wouldn’t blow up the moment he turned it on, he swiveled in his chair to hold it up triumphantly. Shadow, to his credit, had not made another sound nor moved a single inch through the hours it had taken to complete the device. He peered at it with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

“Are you going to send it out, now?”

“Yeah, but first…”

Tails turned it around in his hands to reveal a tiny screen and keyboard on one side, pulled straight from Knuckles’ most recently-busted flip phone. He typed in a string of code and watched with a satisfied snicker as a message appeared on the screen in response.

– Hello Worlds! –

“What is the purpose of that?”

“Tech joke.” He placed a solid metal cover over the keyboard, but left the screen visible. “I doubt anyone is going to find this, because it’s supposed to only travel through the space between dimensions, not actually visit them, but it’s funny to think about.”

“Hm.”

If Sonic were here, he probably would have told Shadow to lighten up. Tails, on the other hand, was much more aware of the precarious state of their arrangement, so he didn’t do that.

Was definitely thinking it, though.

Before turning the device on, the fox double checked that its connection to the Miles Electric was strong and secure. Sending it out without a way to relay information back would have been a silly mistake to make. Confident that there was nothing else to be done, he flipped the single switch on its underside, and they both watched as it hovered out of his hands for a few seconds before disappearing in a flash of rainbow light.

Shadow eyed the spot where it had just been, expression tight, then lifted the Paradox Prism’s container with ease. “Keep me informed on what you find. I’m…curious, as well.”

“Okay.”

Their gazes locked for one brief moment before the hedgehog also disappeared with his charge – in a green flash instead. Tails let out a long exhale. He was exhausted but in a good way, like running a marathon and beating your best time.

He checked the Miles Electric. Nothing yet. That was to be expected; interdimensional travel was probably not as instantaneous as Sonic made it out to be. All he had to do was wait.

So, he waited. And waited.

And waited.

A week passed with no signal. Not a single, shallow blip on his radar to show that the probe had survived its attempt at escaping the barriers between their dimension and whatever lay beyond. Disappointed but not entirely surprised over the possible failure, the fox stopped checking for it as often. Every hour dropped to a few times a day; a few times a day dropped to only once per day. As yet another week began creeping by with nothing to show for it, he finally took the Miles Electric off his desk and put it away to make room for other, more pressing projects.

The device might have ended up a bust, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other ways to confirm the existence of the Shatterverse. Tails began sketching up tentative ideas for his continued research. He didn’t have any Prism energy left to work with, though, and Shadow probably wasn’t going to be as generous if he asked for help again. The power to cross dimensions was going to be the biggest hurdle.

Just as he was debating whether chaos energy would work as a potential substitute, there was a sudden flash of rainbow light to his left. The fox startled, whirled around with his hands up in preparation for a fight – and stopped.

Stared.

There was his device, hovering in the air. Tails’ ears twitched as the Miles Electric suddenly let loose a muffled cacophony of sounds from within the desk drawer; the familiar, loud pings that meant a probe had been successfully connected to. Stunned and unable to think of doing anything else, he slowly reached out to stop its hovering and hold it instead.

From the way he had grabbed it, the little digital screen was visible. Tails looked down at the message and felt his heart skip a beat.

[ hello stranger ]

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A/N: Several months ago I joined the Sonic Big Bang event, and today is the culmination of that event where we flood the fandom with fics and art! We are Sonic Fans and we cannot be stopped lol. Expect a chapter release every day until the fic is finished!

The fantastic artists paired with my fic are @currantlee, @phantom-howl, and @dewdropdraws. I'll link their artwork when it's all posted, please please check them out cause they're all wonderful! Thanks so much to @sthbigbang for hosting this and letting me participate! I had a blast!

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Do you have ideas for how the Angel and The Prototype ship would occur and progress? (Like, who would get feelings for who first, who would they get advice from, how the toys would react, if it would be an even bigger romcom than Dogday and Catnap…)

FINALLY, MY TIME HAS ARRIVED.

Angel x Prototype in the Everyone Is Saved AU first starts after Angel finds a nice house for all the toys to live in. After everyone is moved out and settled in, Catnap convinces Prototype to leave the abandoned factory. Prototype reluctantly agrees, making sure to grab every single document he can find with him. I know Prototype is known by the authorities because Angel had to tell them about him, but not by the general public. When he leaves Playtime, it's a very quick and effective escape and into a small hut outside the farm.

This new place is way smaller than Playtime, physically wise, but it feels so much better in every way possible. Prototype is weirded out by everything at this point, even the sound of the toys playing with each other and talking like normal kids and young adults would do instead of trying to hunt each other for food like before. Elliot's mind is full, all the memories from the toys he absorbed together with his own, and now his brain finally has time to work out through the +10 years of trauma. He dissociates a lot, his hallucinations get weirder, all the good stuff about dealing with trauma, and the only ones who are there for him are Catnap and Angel.

Oh, Angel...

So we all can agree that Angel is also suffering from PTSD, right? And on top of that, they're taking care of +80 kids! Yeah some of them are young adults, but from Angel's POV those are still THEIR kids, and they have no idea how they work. Except Prototype does, and thus their relationship evolves from merely two adults desperate to give a better life to monster toys to two adults having no fucking idea what they're supposed to do for them. Prototype feels like he will never be able to repay for his sins, Angel feels like they'll never be able to provide everything the kids need. So one day Angel stays up late in Prototype's hut just talking about the toys, with Proto/Elliot also talking about them, and the two just go "this feels so overbearing, right?", and the other agrees.

When Prototype's relationship with Catnap finally gets better when they have some important conversations about the decade-long post Hour of Joy, there's a notable shift in his behavior, because now that he feels like he has his kid back it's like things can indeed be better. Cue to Angel getting better at dealing with the other toys, and as months go by their bond becomes stronger and more than just "hey the kids gave me a lot of work today and I need to drink/smoke, i'll stay at your hut so I won't be a bad example to them".

The really good stuff hits only after Poppy finds out that Prototype = Elliot Ludwig = her actual dad, because it's Angel grabbing Proto around and going "TALK. WITH. YOUR. KIDS", and it's the first time in decades since someone ever did that to him, because who in their right mind would bicker with a monster like HIM? And then Angel does exactly that. Smacks him with a newspaper and demands him to get his shit together instead of spiraling further into depression.

Somewhere during the months where Prototype is being promoted to parent #2 by each toy, one by one, is when Angel realizes that their friendship is getting a bit Funky(tm), but they just. Ignore it. Two years post-Playtime Co. go by and Angel is just there like "what I feel for parent #2 is entirely platonic and I do not think of him as anything else than a friend at all hahaha it would be weird right. Because he still talks to me about how he misses his wife (they divorced each other +70 years ago) and how he feels like he failed literally everyone important to him. I mean he didn't fail me what I see is just a guy struggling to be better and honestly I'm worse than him and- oh wait What" until like, they go to a family trip and Prototype decides to stay behind to watch over the farm, and Angel misses him way more than they think they would just miss a dear friend, and it's not just because he helps them with the kids.

Anyways Angel is panicking in all levels except physical when one day Prototype is talking with Catnap and Poppy (they're having a three-toy "tea party" because Pop wanted them to have a small family gathering) and she looks at him in the eye(s) and says "dad, are you sure you don't feel anything else for Angel?", and Proto is just "why are you asking me that???". Cue to Catnap staring at him like

And then Prototype realizes it's not very normal kind of platonic two months later when Angel, as per usual, is called by a scammer. And, as per house protocol, all the toys immediately go to the living room as Angel says "hold up, can you talk to my husband for a moment?" and gives Prototype the phone and tells him to do his thing and annoy the scammer. And Prototype feels weirdly a tiny bit too happy about pretending to be someone else's husband.

At this point the other toys are eyeing the two of them and going "no way..." as the two IDIOTS show them that yeah, yeah, they're witnessing the second romcom of the house, after Catnap and Dogday's telenovela-level worthy levels of drama. Some of them, like Kickin and Dogday himself, think it's no big deal, just two people being friendly, that's all, and then some time later Prototype accidentally sleeps over Angel's room during a thunderstorm (Angel is afraid he'll get struck by lightning so he stays in the main house for safety), and Angel, a genius Made In Brazil, decides to sleep in their room anyways because why not, Proto is just giving free teddybear vibes.

Proto wakes up and just accepts his fate (he's happy with that). Angel is half-asleep and very content with the setup.

... Anyways. Next day goes by, surprise surprise, the family's cuddle pile for movie night now has Prototype added to it, and it's not because Angel sleeps better when he's around. Nope.

Poppy and Catnap are considering start doing some bets to see how long it'll take their parents to realize It's Not Normal Platonic Anymore(TM) at this point, and are unimpressed when Prototype goes to them, sighs, and agrees that Poppy indeed was right. Meanwhile Angel has NO IDEA what to do because it's Prototype/Elliot, no way they have a chance, they'll just end up ruining their little weird family structure, and Dogday and Mommy Long Legs calm them down.

Bobby Bearhug and Craftycorn are working with the other toys to see if they can make Angel realize they need to do something, because Prototype is NOT going to do ANYTHING because his therapy is going strong but his communication issues are stronger. Hoppy and Picky know all about it and try to make Prototype do something about it, while Kickin and Bubba are Dissapointed But Not Surprised at the Situationship going on. "Guess Dogday and Catnap aren't the only ones with communication issues...", they agree, not realizing they also have communication issues. Mommy Long Legs is losing her fucking mind because HOW can one household have SO MANY IDIOTS RUNNING AROUND AND WHY ARE HER ADOPTIVE PARENTS LIKE THAT. AAAAAA. It's good drama tho.

Poppy tasks herself with keeping tabs on what's happening between her two parents. Catnap is watching in the background like "stop being so dramatic over this, Pop, they're working adults, they sure can talk". He may or may have not be gathering information to share with the old ladies at the church he goes to, because those girls LOVE Angel and are all curious as to how their relationship with the kids' "second parent" going. Catnap never tells them much asides from "my mother is, once again, terrible at communication, but has been doing well", but even he starts getting a bit impatient at one point.

Prototype and Angel's big telenovela-level worthy of romance drama lasts a few months, mostly because they both need lots of time with themselves in order to figure out what to do, and also mostly because at some point Angel is pretty content with just being Prototype's non queerplatonic/romantic partner. They're just going with the flow, initial anxiety being left behind and all of that.

Also Angel is a really big freaking dumbass, because Prototype's way of affection is through pampering, and he has been pampering Angel for MONTHS at this point and our human just didn't notice it's not platonic pampering. Prototype gets them more than one flower bouquet and Angel is just "oh this will be very nice for the house, Bobby and Long Legs love red roses!", and he keeps giving them the bouquets because it makes Angel happy, thus making him happy.

No, Elliot doesn't realize Angel is also stupid. He just tries to flirt like it's the 1930s while Angel is flirting like "haha what if we were married. Just kidding! Unless...?"

I think Angel doesn't exactly confess to Prototype in a traditional way. One night they're both chilling at either the hut or Angel's room after a long day and Angel gathers the courage to ask him what they even are. "You're the children's Parent, and I am Elliot Ludwig". Angel reworks their question to be "I don't think we're just platonic friends anymore".

"Do you want to be more?", Prototype asks, hopeful. Angel pauses, then agrees. "Then we can be more". After some talk they settle on either queerplatonic or romantic - I don't know which one would work best, but I think they aren't just platonic or just romantic. Angel and Prototype understand and respect each other a lot, and their relationship, for me, can't be defined with a simple "it's romance" definition. They're just them, and that's what matters.

Also Prototype goes "I WAS TRYING TO GET YOUR ATTENTION FOR MONTHS!" and Angel goes "I WAS REFERRING TO YOU AS MY HUSBAND ALL THE TIME AND YOU JUST THOUGHT I WAS JOKING AND BEING A SMARTASS????"

... Also Angel can wear a ring now! Prototype as well. They tell the kids about their new Situationship and Poppy very happily says "I won our bet!" to Catnap. Everyone else is glad for their parents but also their real-life telenovela is no more..,....

Anyways, I think this post is getting too long, I may share hcs about how their relationship works later, if anyone is interested!

[the1northlanderprincess]

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

Whewww. Breathe, Amanda.

Ok, so, in a pre-show post, I talked about Gal's side of things in the relationship in this episode. Since several of you made posts explaining things after the fact better than I could, I'm going to discuss our favorite dark prince.

Yeah, so, our guy is in deep doo-doo. Now, I haven't watched the episode, but I gathered enough to get a sense of where this will take Haladriel for the remaining episodes.

What I really want to focus on is his mental and emotional state. So, Sauron creates an illusion to manipulate Celebrimbor into thinking that everything is hunky-dory in Eregion, and maybe to get him to relax a little. Everyone around him is affected by the darn thing. That includes Mirdania. In Sauron's concoction, she's wearing the same shade of green and hairstyle that Galadriel wore in 1x08. It gets even weirder: he is all soft and touchy-feely with her. The physical appearance, in my eyes, is very significant. It's the last time that Sauron had seen Gal in person, and had a positive interaction with her, before it all went to crap. I believe he captured that memory of her image to savor it. It was undoubtedly the last authentic happiness he ever felt.

After he is left to his own devices, Sauron hears a random elf tell his blonde girlfriend that her beauty is too indescribable for poetry. He seems to stop and dwell on this moment. This is important, too, because it is understood that Sauron is still in his own headspace. Why would he come up with something like that if he wasn't thinking of the beautiful blonde elf he himself knows? Now, we know that Sauron is enthralled with Galadriel's hair. However, this dialogue suggests to me that he finds all of her attractive. I think that should be a plus in the Haladriel Column of Pros and Cons.

Where does this lead? Well, it's more notable than ever that he is spiraling without Galadriel. His expression while listening to that couple is kind of depressed. I think he wants something like that SO BAD with her, but you know a little voice is telling him he can't. It's not possible for a being like him to have a cutesy moment like that with the she-elf he loves, and he knows it. I honestly feel sorry for him. Anyway, this all spells Bad News Bears for Mirdania. She sees all of this attention she's getting from him, and doesn't realize it's in place of the one he can't have. She'll try something, maybe kissing him (GAG), but he'll rebuff her in the worst way imaginable.

When Sauron and Gal do meet on that hill, I am almost willing to bet that he's so out of it, he will make an impassioned, broken plea for her to reconsider his offer. The Halbrand theme, which has a certain rush-against-time-to-get-to-the-one-you-love sound to it, will be heard during this moment. And we'll all drop from mega feels.

Overall, I think we can all agree that Sauron is out of his mind with desire for Galadriel, and I believe we will get immensely rewarded in the finale (or we better!)

[karma-creations]

My favorite bits/lines from every Secret Life session after watching all POVs

Session 1

tango trying to ask multiple questions at a time to get scar talking for a little while and scar outright telling him to shut up so he can infodump

joel’s response to lizzie, his ACTUAL WIFE, saying "I love you": "oh thank you"

joel: "hey bdubs your house is upside down" bdubs: "YES I KNOW IT'S UPSIDE DOWN- i'm sorry. i'm sorry"

bdubs not-so-subtly begging mumbo not to build a house inspired by his and mumbo straight up going going "uh huh" before suggesting a house inspired by bdubs's

cleo catching etho with the bed shrine

mumbo: "it could be like the alps, but bad. like, much worse."

martyn: "we can do a bit of, uh, tankin' and spankin'" gem: "……bit of what?"

skizz: "all of us are pretty old, maybe our island's called heart problems"

tango: "well, i'll be honest, skizz… everybody's teamed up, so… you're all that's left, we're gonna have to shack up" skizz: "well! it’s like a giant hug!"

Session 2

everyone going "OOOOHHhhhhhhhhhh…….." after skizz's creeper got put in a boat

mumbo: "I'm happy to be in whatever group you guys- oh hey bdubs"

bdubs: "I DON'T NEED NO MOM, I'M A GROWN MAN!" cleo: "really? how do you explain the everything?"

cleo (to bdubs): "you're just a horse girl at heart, aren’t you?"

skizz going "BREAK IT UP BREAK IT UP" at the same time as tango chanting "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT"

scar: "was this your idea, pearl?" pearl: "no" scar: "this is amazing, only you would have come up with something like this"

martyn: "that's right, I'm a yellow life, and I've come to KILL you" bigb: "….wow, dude"

grian: "I've had the weirdest interactions whenever I see you" bigb: "y'know, I hope they get weirder"

everyone singing happy birthday off-key and out of sync

mumbo: "is there anything that I can help with? I come with no resources and very little talent"

bdubs: "I know how to crit punch, so it's gonna hurt you more than it hurts me!" gem: "..I also know how to crit punch" bdubs: "oh"

scar: "can I give you a ride, bdubs, wherever you're going?" bdubs: "freaking no, not on that thing! you kidding me?" scar: "aw. well I was just offering!" bdubs: "…all right, fine."

Session 3

*joel and lizzie arguing* grian: "aren't you guys married"

grian saying "I don't like what this has become" then immediately joining in the chanting when it’s joel's turn to fail

grian: "I love you, etho" etho: "……thank you?"

mumbo: "right, show me the gear knob on that camel" grian: "I’d rather not"

cleo: "yes, tango, the thing that I know about you is you don't know how minecraft works"

cleo's constant ethubs jokes

etho waterboarding everyone

scar: "losers will be beaten with my beatin' stick"

joel: "you are a FAILURE!!" martyn: "wow that was whole chest" joel: "sorry I’ve had a really rough episode"

bigb accidentally picking up torchy and tango being DEVASTATED

cleo: "why are we coming out this way?" bigb: "so no one can hear!" cleo: "well impulse is right there" impulse: "who?"

torchy out for blood the entire time

Session 4

cleo accidentally hitting etho with her sword and etho's immediate response: "I'LL DO THE DISHES I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT"

cleo: "hey grian" grian: "🎶hellooo theeeere🎶" cleo: "hello, are you singing?" grian: "🎶absolutely not, I would never sing🎶"

mumbo: "what's your favorite welsh town" grian: "……….🎶let me googleee🎶"

grian: "I don't know what to do with myself now, cleo, what do we do?" cleo: "I don't know, I think we should burn things down"

grian: "ignore the stairs, they wouldn’t burn"

scar: "you guys are still here? I went and stole a bunch of stuff and you guys are still yapping over here"

jimmy: "I'll go in BigB's hole" scott: "you're gonna do WHAT????" cleo: "I always knew there was something about you two"

scar singing back at grian with no hesitation

grian and scar spotting martyn hiding behind the tree

jimmy: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING" scott: "hi, I’m just making the path connect-" jimmy: "STOP CRYIN' AND TELL US WHAT YOU'RE DOIN'" scott: "I'm making the path connect like lizzie did"

joel: "anyway, just came over here to ruin your day"

bdubs: "okay, you count us in" bigb: "okay. seven"

mumbo: "what do I win?" bdubs: "uhh- you win.. eight baked potatoes!" mumbo: "YEEEEESSS!!!!!"

bdubs: "you can't hit me! I can say and do whatever I want! okay, going to the house real quick though, to lock myself in"

people gaslighting jimmy and martyn (mostly jimmy) into thinking there’s a zombie/skeleton horse spawner somewhere

bdubs: "hey, hey! I consider you a friend! apparently it’s not reciprocated." gem: "it’s not. what do you want?"

jimmy: "martyn I think he can see you-" *beat* martyn: "WELL HE DIDN’T UNTIL YOU SAID THAT YOU IDIOT"

martyn: "oh yeah, wait! why are you wearin’ that?" scar: *incoherent cop sounds* (/ref)

jimmy: "he'll come back like nothing's happened now" mumbo: "hey guys 😀"

skizz: "here's the thing, I'm not too bossy, I- Boppers, go home for a second, I gotta talk to these guys"

[frozenjokes]

How I Lost My Hand (+ mumbo jumbo mermaid returns to the surface not clickbait???)

“Jimmy said that you were fine, safe, the mafia isn’t after you or whatever, but I’m not going to lie, Grian, all these specifics about where and when and with who and all this build up you’ve made before telling me why half of your hand is gone..” Joel shrugged, discomfort mingling with his anxiety. He, Lizzie, and Grian were all in the car together on the way to the zoo to drop Grian off at his new job after a week of Grian being extremely cagey about the mysterious new injury that had appeared across his hand. Even weirder than half of his fingers being gone was the fact that there was no wound, only a nasty scar that snaked across his hand and continued under the sleeve of his sweater, but Grian had refused to pull it up so Joel could see. It had not been nearly long enough since Joel had last seen Grian for an injury that severe to have happened and then healed, and Joel had no idea what could have possibly happened to him.

Lizzie, in the passenger seat, poked her head around to look at Grian in the back, “I’m happy to be here, flattered even, but I’m also very confused about.. you know.. being needed here. I’m not much use against the mafia, Grian, I will keep a secret for you but under the threat of torture that will change. They don’t even have to threaten me and I’ll crack, I promise.”

“It’s not about the mafia.” Grian cut in before Joel could regale what his own experience being tortured by the mafia would look like, “You know the aliens? The ones that abducted you in highschool or whatever. That Jimmy and I don’t believe you about.”

“Jimmy believes me.”

“He doesn’t. He just feels bad. You were a chronic liar then, and you’re now taking this bit to your grave, that’s what we agreed on.”

“Lizzie believes me!” Joel threw his hands up and off the wheel, to which both Lizzie and Grian lunged forward to force his focus back on the road. “Lizzie also got abducted! Not even a whole year ago!”

“Yes, she’s in on the bit. That’s something she would do. She thinks it’s funny, which it is, at least that’s what Jimmy and I agreed anyway. You almost got us too, Jimmy was a little shaken. Anyway, I believe you now.”

“I am not-” Lizzie stopped short, processing, “Wait what?” Once again Joel was opening his mouth to interrogate, but Grian gave the answers freely.

“Don’t ask me why or how, it was a complete accident, but I think I met them? Your aliens, I mean. And I don’t think I met them, I know I met them, because they’re clones. A completely new Joel and Lizzie, except the Joel can do magic and the Lizzie is blue and a fish person. She bit my hand off. Joel healed it. Despite this the Joel is actually a Grade A prick and the Lizzie is nice, the hand thing was an accident. Scar and one of Scar’s friends was also there, so I can give you Scar’s number if you want to ask him about it, but only if you promise not to use that information for evil. You know what evil means.”

“I- You- Okay, wait a minute! Threatening Scar for being an asshole is not evil because he was being the asshole first. If you two can’t keep your hands off each other then someone else has to step in!”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?” Lizzie squawked, Joel closing his eyes against the noise, then opening them again when he remembered he was on the road. He honked at a car about to pull out into the intersection in front of him for being a dumbass, clearly Joel was not paying attention and everyone should get out of his way if they intended on living another day.

“I’m still processing the rest-!” Joel struggled to defend himself, mind whirling with this new information. “And I’ve decided you’re lying, this is unbelievable. And Jimmy is in on it, this is some kind of convoluted revenge against Lizzie and I who are not lying.”

Grian was unperturbed. “I’ll call Scar.” Joel and Lizzie were left in a stunned silence as Grian dialed Scar’s number, the line clicking as the call connected. “Hi, Scar, you’re on speaker and I’m in the car with my friends, Joel and Lizzie, telling them what happened to my hand.”

“Wow! You know a Joel and a Lizzie? What a coincidence!” Scar stopped, deadpanning in his shock, “Wait you’re doing what.”

“The Joel and Lizzie that your friend, who I am not going to name, is associated with are clones. That’s what I’ve concluded anyway. The Joel and Lizzie I know are also married and look and sound pretty much the same besides the fact that they’re both human and the Joel doesn’t have a tacky green strand of hair.”

“What?? Joel and Lizzie are clones?”

“My Joel and Lizzie are not clones, they are the originals. They got abducted by aliens.”

Joel interrupted, unable to believe what he was hearing, “You two don’t even have your story straight!”

Scar yelped over the phone, “Grian! Why is Joel in your car?”

“He’s the original Joel!” Grian seethed, apparently not expecting all of this back and forth, “The other evil Joel is a clone! So is the Lizzie that ate my fingers!”

“Ate them?” Lizzie fake gagged, “Gross! I would not do that. If I had to cannibalize anyone I would not go for the fingers, are you kidding?”

“Ah! The Lizzie!” Scar sounded just as surprised to hear Lizzie as he did Joel, which was starting to be extremely confusing.

“I am not-” Lizzie cut herself off, like she wasn’t sure if she should be offended or confused, “I am just Lizzie. There’s only one of me- and if there’s more I am the original! I think. Maybe I’m not. Joel, are we clones?”

“We are not clones!” Joel skidded into the zoo parking lot, tires screeching. He swiveled into a parking space, paying no attention to the lines before throwing the car into park and whirling around on Grian, who was already unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his bag.

“Thanks for the ride, Joel. Bye, Scar.”

“Wait a minute-” Scar said, but Grian hung up, opening the car door and scooting outside.

“Hey! You get back in the car right this instant, Grian!” Joel rolled down his window in an attempt to grab Grian by his bag, but he ducked out of the way, not looking back.

“This is why I wanted to do this on the ride to work,” Grian shrugged, continuing forward, “Time limit. If you don’t believe me, I don’t care. Reminder that Jimmy is picking me up today.”

“Jimmy- Jimmy is not picking you up! I’m going to call him! We are not done talking, Grian!”

“If you show up, I am not getting in your car.” Grian waved, and despite Joel yelling several expletives his way, Grian did not turn around. Joel huffed, slumping in his seat. Lizzie was still staring after Grian, a look of incredulous bafflement clear on her face.

“What a cunt!”

Joel laughed, shaking his head. “Right?”

***

‘It’s hot. It’s hot up here. Why did I let you convince me to go to the surface. This sucks. I knew this would suck. Humans can’t be that interesting, you must be mistaken about their language. They’re pests, they don’t need complex systems of communication to be pests.’

Mumbo’s fins flicked with increasing frequency at his companion’s complaining, irritation with each other seeming to be a new facet of their relationship.

‘It will get hotter. At this rate, I don’t care if you shrivel.’ Mumbo aimed a quick blow at Atlas’ face with his tail, but when it came to fine motor skills, Atlas had him beat, ducking out of the way far before Mumbo’s fins landed at the spot his companion had been moments before. If only they were that fast when it came to swimming; Altas could propel themself quickly at short distances, but in a journey like this, they were agonizingly slow. Of course, they could probably go quite a bit faster than the pace they had stubbornly set, but Mumbo had convinced himself Atlas was doing this specifically to piss him off. Though, when it came to long distance travel, Atlas was no stranger. They were born much further north, where the water was freezing and the land was white and gray. Northern mermaids lived much closer to the surface because the human communities were much smaller, much more spread apart, but regardless, with the northern mermaids living so close to the surface, they tended to encounter humans directly more often. Mermaids up north were massive because of the cold, physically tougher as well, and more aggressive, feuding with the human populations instead of running from them like so many other mers had. Mumbo admired them for that, though Atlas had other opinions.

They took the shape of an octopus, covered head to tail tip in an odd sort of lichen or sea-plant or- Mumbo wasn’t really sure what it was, but Atlas was fond of it, cultivating, breeding, and strengthening it to survive harsh conditions. Mumbo was honestly a little afraid of it, and most other mers found it to be a pest, given it stuck to everything and spread everywhere Altas went. Mumbo wondered if it would survive the surface, and silently hoped it wouldn’t. But under the lichen, Altas’ skin and scales were peppered in scars, some hunting injuries, but most from human aggression, machines and weapons that punctured effortlessly through mermaid skin.

‘We’re being slaughtered,’ Atlas had said, and while they couldn’t emote in the same way the other mers could, it wasn’t difficult to tell how they felt, ‘Decades ago, it didn’t matter. Human tools could not stand up to mer strength.’ They had addressed a large group of mers then, and distinctly he recalled not being able to tell if this was a call to action or a word of warning. He still didn’t know.

Atlas had traveled a long way to get to Mumbo’s pod, along the way discovering a passion for study, language holding their particular interest. They had essentially brute force learned Mumbo’s language on the way down, shocked to discover there was even more than one, but that knowledge had lit a fire in Atlas regardless, leading them to take a shine to travel, wanting to see more mers, learn more languages, give those languages names. Perhaps fittingly, Atlas had dubbed their birth language Northern, and they called Mumbo’s Middle North. Apparently they’d traveled so far south that the water had gotten cold again, but Atlas knew they weren’t in the same place because the mermaids down south did not speak the same language, though fascinatingly, they looked quite a bit like the northern mers.

Apparently though, Atlas quite liked ‘Middle North’ or at least the region. Mumbo got the sense it was because they got to stay close to home without the immediate threat of human interference, and Atlas usually said they liked the temperature of this region, which Mumbo didn’t doubt to be true. Regardless, after many years of traveling and language learning, Atlas had decided to settle down for a while and teach the things they had learned to anyone who might listen. For the most part though, mers found Atlas to be exceptionally odd, and not in a good way.

Atlas had two things going for them, that being they were massive and that they were old. Well- Mumbo didn’t actually know how old Atlas was, but given the size and the amount of travel, many mers assumed very.

Mers were drawn to Atlas because of their size, then drawn away by the everything else. Atlas was not the easiest mer to get along with, and by not easy, Mumbo meant they were kind of an asshole. Being friends for so long, Mumbo got the sense Atlas’ bluntness was more of a cultural trait than anything, but Altas didn’t even try to play nice with anyone they didn’t respect, and respect was earned. Atlas cared very little for social hierarchies, jewelry, accessories, or anything else that indicated status, outwardly irritated by pastimes they considered impractical or vain. Mumbo had watched in horror as Atlas grabbed and pulled on several different mers’ accessories, getting into countless physical fights that they always won with minimal injuries, their adversaries left with the consolation prize of a mouthful of lichen.

Atlas was aggressive with their opinions and had the size and strength to back it up, establishing themself at the top of the pecking order they cared so little for in the first place. However, after the initial conflict with Atlas sometimes taking on three or four mermaids at a time, things calmed down a little. Occasionally a group of mers would try and destroy Atlas’ gardens of lichen in petty revenge, but they were rarely successful, even in the most thorough of cases. Regardless, Atlas’ lichen was sticky, and given its gentle bioluminescence.. well, Atlas had no trouble finding the culprits. Mumbo had watched Atlas terrorize the settlement he lived in for quite a while from the sidelines, staying far out of their way.

Even then, Mumbo did not escape Atlas’ attention.

Atlas had an incredibly unnerving habit of staring, which was a little bit different from human staring, but conceptually the same.. Just sitting there.. watching.. You always knew it was Atlas too because they almost clicked with an accent, or at least had enough of a distinct way of doing it that it was easy to tell who was around. Altas liked to watch Mumbo often, and in hindsight this was probably because Mumbo was also a freak of nature, but before they had met properly Mumbo was certain he was Altas’ next victim.

But Atlas never told him off, trilling their amusement when Mumbo said respectfully that he did not want to associate even a little bit. After that small interaction, Mumbo thought he was good to go, but Atlas did not leave, and Mumbo was about to learn they were very persistent.

Nearly by force, Atlas befriended him. In his defense, very few mers were interested in Mumbo’s hobbies, and even as independent as Mumbo tended to be (LYING), he quite enjoyed the attention. Part of him wondered if Atlas was drawn to him because he was often stationary, spending most of his days tinkering. Relevant because Atlas had a lot to say and a lot of stories to tell, and as much as Mumbo was apprehensive about Atlas’ presence, he also really liked listening to them. After a while, he got the sense that Atlas was a little lonely as well, but lonely for the mers they couldn’t go back to.

Atlas wasn’t always around, and neither was Mumbo, but when their paths crossed, they had plenty to share with each other. It was a little funny the way they exchanged news; while both of them had mild interest in what the other had to say, they were far more interested in their own stories, a sentiment both of them understood without speaking it aloud, so they ended up taking turns in a way that was quite rigid, but it worked for them. However, this did not stop the two of them from attempting to ‘steal turns,’ grabbing each other’s attention with cliffhanger mentions of the other’s fixations, so that they couldn’t help but forfeit their next turn in order to know more. Mumbo enjoyed playing this game, and he had sufficiently won with the subject of his humans; not the mermaid-human bond he’d managed to form or even their intelligence, but their language.

Atlas was floored by the mere idea of humanity having a complex language; every animal communicated, but Atlas had never taken the senseless babbling of humans to mean more than the chittering of [animals Mumbo did not know, nor have a word for in Middle North]. They wondered out loud if this was the reason humanity advanced technologically so quickly, and if mermaids could do the same thing if they got over their aversion to travel and figured out how to talk to each other (said with great bitterness, Atlas was frustrated about this subject even with their own people). Mumbo replied simply that he didn’t know, but that Atlas could find out for themself if they wanted to go to the surface, or more specifically, meet the mermaid that spoke the human language and Middle North. Mumbo left his story there, allowing Atlas their turn. They forfeited it immediately.

Which led them to now, after some time of course, neither of them were itching to go to the surface right away, and Mumbo wanted to take some time away, catch up with friends and appreciate his life in the deep, because really, as much as the surface caught his allure, he loved being home, and it had been a long while since he’d let himself stay.

However, now, learning that Atlas was an abysmal travel partner, Mumbo was about two seconds from biting them at any given moment. Even with the promise of studying human language, Atlas hadn’t necessarily wanted to come, most of the reason being that they fucking hated humanity, which, fair, yeah, Mumbo didn’t blame them, however, his humans were cool, and Mumbo was so excited by the prospect of getting to show them off to someone else, he was ready to say anything to get Atlas to come with, failing to remember that at the slightest discomfort, Atlas was a certified pain in the ass.

Oh well. It would be a matter of days before Atlas got used to the heat, at least enough to stop whining about it, and after that, they’d get everything they wanted. Well. If Etho happened to be a mermaid at the right time that is, but Mumbo would cross that bridge when he got there.

[notsocheezy]

V-Day - The First Twenty-Four Hours

Guess who's got two thumbs and no penis? That's right, this girlish-shaped thing!

👍👍

My "the surgery" went off without a hitch! And it couldn't have happened at a weirder time. The news has been absolutely wild this week, hasn't it? Mass Windows system outages, Biden dropping out of the presidential race... probably some other stuff... I'll be honest, I'm a little woozy from the Oxycodone, so a lot of the past week escapes me at the moment. But let me tell you all about the first day. I still remember most of that.

I arrived at the hospital at about 5AM yesterday, and they had me wipe down with CHG wipes even though I'd just taken a CHG shower. I guess they like to be safe. But it leaves a residue that isn't the most pleasant thing in the world. It's kind of like when you step out of the ocean and the salt dries onto your skin in a fine, well-seasoned flaky layer.

After that, they gave me a morphine injection into my spinal fluid, which according to the pain management guy, reduces the overall necessary intake of opiates/opioids (what is the difference between those anyway?). So far that seems to be very true. My new bits don't hurt in the slightest even now, after the injection has worn off.

On the other hand, though, there has been excruciating pain in my chest and shoulders. You see, this was a laparoscopic surgery performed with a fancy robot - the DaVinci XI - and they had to pump me full of CO2 so they'd have room to work. That's right folks - I'm carbonated. And they didn't just give me one new hole, but an additional five incisions on my abdomen, which also don't really hurt but damn are they itchy. It turns out though, being a human balloon is a really bad experience. If I'd had an inflation kink before, this would probably have killed it in its tracks.

When I woke up in Recovery, I was at 10/10 on the pain scale. It was truly miserable. They had to inject me with Fentanyl (Ooooooh, scary!) just so I could breathe. Once they did, though, I was fine. That is, until they moved me onto the bed in my room several hours later. Now the pain comes and goes, but I'm on pills for that.

Other than the chest pain, the most uncomfortable thing is the catheter. It constantly feels like I've just gotten back from a long road trip without pit stops, or the credits just rolled on an IMAX screening of Oppenheimer (I saw that twice, by the way). I have to pee so damn bad, but I'm just kinda... always peeing. Very weird. Nice not to have to get up, but I'm not even really allowed to get up. Which is a shame, because I'm told moving around will help the CO2, ahem, escape. Via the most obvious channel, of course.

On that note, I was on a liquid diet until about an hour ago, and now I've got an omelet and some oatmeal that they forgot to put sugar or salt in. They really want to get my guts up and running again - they gave me a laxative and a stool softener. But I'm nervous about getting up from the bed. I've got more wires attached to me than my PC at home, so I'll need to unhook everything to get to the bathroom.

Anyway, other than being misgendered a concerning amount of times by people who should be able to read the word "vaginoplasty" on my chart, everyone has been very kind. I thought I'd be more scared and depressed being left in the hospital by myself, with all my loved ones hours away, but I've been able to make friends with the nurses.

If you're on the fence about getting this done because you're scared of the recovery process, don't worry. I'm only a day in and I'm doing just fine. Electrolysis was significantly more painful down there than this is. Can't speak for more traditional methods, but the robot is damn good. I, for one, welcome our new robotic sex-change overlords.

Anyway, stay tuned for more. I'm here all week.

[dearweirdme]

I thank you for your detailed answer and I understand that things must not be easy for closeted ppl specially with their level of fame and I understand now the importance of choosing a bit more of artistic freedom and freedom in general but I still think that him agreeing to do this was one of the worse things he could have done for his career and i also feel now that him choosing to publicly do a lot of things that very much pointed at him and jk being together was really distasteful, I never would have thought this before but I just don't see the point of him wishing to make a point about his relationship with jk at all after doing what he did, I really wonder what was he thinking? Ppl won't take him seriously, won't take that relationship seriously at all, he's just harming his image bc he had that mediaplay above his head. There's just a lot of ppl thinking he's been gaybaiting all along instead of defending his gf, I guess this probably was important to him, sharing a bit about his real self while everyone was believing lies but it was such a bad choice now that I see it in retrospective. I didn't it take like that at all when all of this was happening I guess I just felt relieved that this hadn't changed and that he was still fighting but now it's like what are you even fighting? You did that and no one is going to seriously see anything statement in what you do with your bandmate, no one. And this will continue like that unless they ever come out which I doubt it will ever happen considering the choices they made. I remember even being somewhat upset back then for what I took as jk distancing himself from Tae publicly when I thought he needed the support the most but now I understand that he did it bc what is even the point in contradicting in any way a mediaplay he took part of and that has a purpose they must have agreed, was needed.

I really wish things would have been different and that Tae would have acted different, it's the way I'm 100% sure that tk are together and I have been for years and I still feel disappointed and I know is my fault for putting ppl I dont know personally into pedestals but it's just like I'm finding out that Tae is not as cool and brave as the person I had in my head and that also most ppl won't ever see him like that too and all the opposite bc of that mediaplay and the way he chose to act after it.

Seeing twt and TikTok and basically every platform after this is having a reminder that ppl really do see him as a coward, liar and a loser, even armys and idk when this will change, I don't think this at all bc i know it's not the truth and I used to get really defensive but now I have to accept that this are consequences of the choices he made, this and ppl never taking queerness related to him as anything but a joke or queerbaiting or fans deliriums

Hi anon!

responding to this ask:

Sorry for being late to respond to this, I've been sick these last couple of days (still feel awfull and pretty ligthheaded honestly, so If I seem weirder than usual... that's probably why.. also, I'm probably making more spellingmistakes than usual😶). I have had plenty of time to think about this though, because both this ask and your former one made me actually really sad... and I did want to think through why you felt like this, and why my feelings are so opposite. So here I go, and I don't mean to be harsh or insult, but at the same time.. this is how I feel.

We all have our own ideas about who we think an artist is. I think it is very clear that amongst fandom, there are many differetn thoughts going around about who Tae and Jk are as persons... what they are like on the inside. When we form an idea about who we think someone is, we also start getting expectations... and I think that is why it's almost unavoidable that at one point we get a bit dissapointed. It can be small disappointements (like, not liking an add, or a song, or that they smoke) but it can also be big dissapointments... like the one you are feeling right now. I think this also ties in with how so many were feeling negatively towards Jk when he didn't act how many wanted him to during Tae's Layover. Expectations were set (because of them being Tkk, but also because of how many perceived his actions during Jm's Face), and he failed misserably in many eyes.... but I digress.

We don't really know them well enough to be able to have that kind of expectations though.... especcially when it comes to their private lives (and when we talk about their closet, or their relationship... that is what those are). As Tkkrs we feel very connected to Tae and Jk. So much so, that at times we feel as though we are fighting alongside them. We make their battle ours. But ultimately it isn't. We can support them, and we definitely should.... but we should at the same time be aware that it is THEIR lives. Only they know the inns and outs of their lives, only they know what's at stake for real.. so they are the only ones who get to decide. So I understand that you might feel dissapointed because you feel you've been fighting for them so hard and now one of them made a choice that to you doesn't fit with what you think you've been fighting for... but at the same time I think you are wrong, because.. we don't know what it is that they are fighting for, and we don't know the exact inns and outs of their lives.

Personally, I've never fully felt as though they are fighting hard to be able to come out or to show us that they are romantically together. I just think that's not even an option for them at this point, both from a business perspective and a private perspective. There's a few instances where I feel Tae went a bit further (the insta pic before Paris, him posting only Jk and Bam before enlisting, the matching T-shirts). To me most of the other stuff is just them living their lives adn things we pick up on because we pay attention. So your and my starting point is different, I don't see them/Tae a someone who has been "wishing to make a point about his relationship with Jk". I think he has wanted to.. very much so, but don't think it is realistic to think that he wanted to out them. Your sentence "Ppl won't take him seriously, won't take that relationship seriously at all"... that's kinda what this is all about right, we're not supposed to take it seriously in a way. Because if everyone would take them seriously, they would be out.

Being in a shipping fandom will forever be weird. Would I reccommend it to anyone.. well, no 😂. It comes with a lot of highs but also with a lot of lows and I consider it to be a neverending rollercoaster of emotions in which you will actaully get bitchslapped from time to time. We will forever be fandom's punching bag. Are we to blame Tae and Jk for that? I personally don't.. and I've though about this hard the last few days. But my answer has continously been that: no, they didn't choose this. It's society that's wrong. That does not mean that I think they can never do anything wrong, there's things that would go too far for me as well. But imo that's not the case here. He did one walk, we don't know what he expected the fan response to be. Maybe he was expecting us all to brush past it with force like we do so many times. Maybe he thought it would have past already with that bua (which is what often happens). You are making a lot (!) of assumptions on his thought process and motives, when in reality we know nothing about it.

We know nothing about the actual hardships they have gone through. When I try to imagine what feelings they must've had throughout all these years of hiding is bad though. It's not just a case of not holding hands whne the camera's are off. It comes with being shamed, with feeling afraid, with feeling alone, with feeling wrong, with feeling you should let the other go because your just an obstacle to them, with feeling like maybe you should just leave, with feeling like you are letting everyone down... and that's just what I can imagine. We don't know the specific memories that haunt them. We know Tae has had mental health problems. To me it is not unimaginable that being closeted had a big part in that. I also think he always put the band before his own needs (wanting to resign for the members). I think the situation has been much more dire than any of us can guess. So when Tae chose an option (and we don't even know which other options there were) to maybe get some more freedom in at least one part of his life, I just think of him and his situation with a lot of empathy.

I suppose all the Taennie insanity from last week has bothered you. And maybe it made you feel as though we will never get rid of them. While I do think Taennie will have a bit of a long term effect, it's more in the sense of every now and then there will be an article refering to a rumored relationship. Taennies themselves will disapear sooner or later (as soon as Jennie is spotted with someone else basically). They are desparate, their ship meant nothing and is basically an empty vessel. Their is no real depth to it. I was kinda joking a while ago by saying I'll get a Jkk like essay in my inbox soon... but honeslty, Taennies aren't even able to leave an in depth essay.. because they have only bits of similar jewelry and edited pictures.

I have often said that Tae and Jk's relationship with Tkkr-fandom must be a complex one. It's a very onesided one, and I think we have to make amends with the fact that it's always going to be a one-sided one. That doesn't mean they don't appreciate us, but it does mean that they will probably never act out their appreciation.

[lu-is-not-ok]

Hope no one hasn't asked for Faust's hex nail before 🙏

But it's really intriguing to me as it has very weird sin resource requirements (literally only six envy) and it's also a weirder, yet somewhat telling sinner choice in my opinion

I really want to see what you (and possibly other people) think about it

Hoo boy, it's been a while hasn't it? Sorry for keeping everyone who sent asks waiting, but at least we're back!

It might take me a moment to get back into the groove, so if this analysis is a little bit weird structurally, uhhh... Sorry!

Now then, under the cut we go!

Alright, before we can get into Hex Nail, we first need to look at the Abnormality it comes from, Hurting Teddy Bear, as well as the Abno it's an Abberation of, Happy Teddy Bear.

Let's start with that last one. Happy Teddy Bear's main theme is abandonment, child-like innocence, and the loss of that innocence due to the passage of time. It's a plush toy that was left to tear and rot after its previous owner grew out of playing with it, and now it fears being abandoned again, hugging the people it grows attached to until they die out of its fear.

Interestingly enough, Happy Teddy Bear itself has not lost its innocence, unlike its owner. It doesn't seem to actually Want to kill people, it simply doesn't want them to leave, not being able to understand the idea that they could come back.

Now onto Hurting Teddy Bear. While Happy Teddy Bear seems to have been treated well by its owner before they left, Hurting Teddy Bear seems to have gone through the opposite. It's noted to have spent a lot of time in pain, and a lot of emphasis is put on its "emptiness".

The holes where its eyes should be are empty. The cavities left after pulling out the nails are called an "empty void". If the nails are dug deeper, the plush looks down but doesn't seem to notice anything is actually happening. Interestingly enough this reaction makes the narrator wonder if the plush is simply unable to feel pain, seemingly contradicting its initial description noting how its bloodstains are a sign of the pain it went through.

An interesting thing about Hurting Teddy Bear is how its hugs are described, and how little emphasis is put on them. When Happy Teddy Bear's hugs are noted, they are explicitly said to be something that the plush Wants to do, how it's something it Loves. They're actually noted quite often, as it's something the Abno is explicitly known for. For Hurting Teddy Bear however, its hugs are described only once, and specifically as a "duty" it has to fulfill.

So, here are the themes I think we're dealing with here.

First of all, loss of innocence, in this case specifically the loss of innocence caused by abuse. Physical abuse, if we take the bear's damage literally, and emotional abuse, if we take the idea of them piercing through the bear's heart more symbolically.

Another theme I think is good to note here is the idea of learned helplessness and/or obedience caused by abuse. The way Hurting Teddy Bear's hugs are described as a "duty" combined with the emphasis put on how empty the bear is gives me a picture of someone who has become a husk of their former self, going through life on auto-pilot and accepting the abuse they're put through without complaint.

With both of these in mind, let's look at the main point of interest here.

Faust. And Hex Nail.

I'm going to focus on the animation and dialogue lines first, since I think it's the kind of stuff anyone could analyze without delving deeper into Sin Analysis territory, and I think that's what I'm gonna try to do in future E.G.O Analyses as well.

The Awakening dialogue line, "Pierce... to the profundities of the heart.", is of particular interest of me due to Faust's delivery here. Noticeably, she seems to uncharacteristically whisper a part of it, implying it's something that emotionally means a lot more to her than the rest of the line. Perhaps it brings back a notably bad memory, or has her feel anxious enough to not want to say it out loud?

I'm getting a little ahead of myself.

Through my expert analysis (throwing the original korean version of the line into google translate and seeing what the individual parts of the line translate to), the part that makes Faust emotional here is the act of Piercing.

Remember how we mentioned that the theme of abuse plays a major part in the Abnormality this E.G.O is derived from, and how the nails pierced through it can be interpreted as either physical or emotional abuse, depending on whether they're taken literally or symbolically.

Considering how Faust here specifies the act of Piercing is being done to a heart, specifically to aim for its "profundities" (which means great depths of insight or knowledge), I think its fair to interpret this as more symbolic, thus implying more of an emotional kind of abuse.

If the act of Piercing here is meant to represent this abuse that Faust has potentially gone through, it would make sense why she would whisper it like she does. The phrasing used regarding what is being pierced to is quite interesting. Profundities aren't just any depths, it's specifically intellectual depths, fitting for Faust, yet odd considering we're talking about the heart, something that is more often symbolically connected to emotions than intelligence.

Was Faust's emotional intelligence the target of this Piercing? Was this Piercing trying to harm that part of Faust, or was it trying to expose it? Considering how Faust notably lacks social awareness as well as self awareness, I'd go out on a limb and posit it's the former.

Something else notable about Faust's Awakening here is the animation itself. The way she stabs the nail through her target is notably aggressive and violent, with her face even being covered by a shadow. It feels like a Major departure from her other Awakening animations, which show her attacks be seemingly more calculated and slower-paced. I think this just further proves how deeply this E.G.O touches Faust, and how truly personal it is to her.

Next, the Corrosion. This is the one other time we get to see Hurting Teddy Bear's hugs be referenced at all, and it's in an interesting form. Faust's line here, "Come here... I'll hug you tight...", is again notable from her vocal delivery. Faust sounds Very Emotional here, her voice almost trembling and by the end it edges to sounding like she's about to cry.

Considering how Hurting Teddy Bear's hugs are considered its "duty", it paints a very interesting picture of Faust's own potential duty. Perhaps following her given purpose causes her pain and suffering, but she pushes through it regardless.

Something I find important to note is another contrast between the hugs seen from the two Teddy Bears. For Happy Teddy Bear, the hugs by themselves aren't actually fatal, it's the bear deciding it doesn't want to let go that hurts the one it hugs. For Hurting Teddy Bear however, it's a completely different story. We see in Faust's Corrosion animation how this bear's hugs are inherently painful to the reciever, as it causes the bear's nails to pierce whoever it decides to hug.

I wonder, could this be interpreted as a symbolic representation of the cycle of abuse? The same nails that hurt the bear cause it to harm those it tries to show affection towards, perhaps also partially because that affection is not genuine, as the idea of giving hugs being seen as its duty suggests.

Perhaps Faust doing her job inflicts the same kind of suffering to others as she herself went through? Considering how we know she's the one behind everyone's contracts, yet had to have also been given a contract of her own to become a Sinner herself, it might not be too far off.

Then, there's the last little bit of the Corrosion animation we need to talk about. The box of cereal that falls out of Faust once she stops her attack, which proceeds to bleed on the floor. The imagery here is very easy to interpret as a symbolic representation of a miscarriage, and I don't think it's something that can be ignored in this analysis.

While the easy way to interpret it would be to say Faust is a mother who lost her child and leave it at that, I don't think it's nearly as simple as that. No, I think there's something else going on here that's a bit more abstract.

My personal interpretation here is that the box represents some part of Faust. Some form of child-like innocence and wonder that she loses each time she goes back to her duties. Every time she perpetuates what she herself has been through, she loses another part of herself, becoming further like the empty husk that Hurting Teddy Bear is.

Of course, I could be completely wrong here. We genuinely don't know enough about Faust to be sure.

Now, let's get to the part everyone actually knows me for. Sin Analysis.

Hex Nail is a Fascinating E.G.O, as it's all about a single Sin - Envy. Its Sin Affinity is Envy, and the Resources it needs are an obscene amount of Envy.

I hope that with all the prior analysis we've done, this actually starts making A Lot of sense.

Hex Nail is a representation of the abuse Faust has gone through at the hands of other people. Whether it's Limbus's higher ups, whoever gave her her own contract, or some other person we don't know yet, one thing is clear. Everything about Hex Nail screams the influence of other people.

It represents her learned helplessness, her obedience under others, her causing the same harm those she's obeying cause her... It's all about how her actions have been influenced by people who have authority over her.

It's Envy, the Sin of being influenced and controlled by other people, in its purest form. It truly shows how Faust lacks any control, how she's just a plaything being used by someone else, and how she passively accepts and follows whatever they put her through.

I think the fact that Sloth is not included in the resources despite the clear themes of obedience presented here further drives that point home. There is no resignation in the part of Faust that Hex Nail represents. It's all due to the influences of other people, adding to that image of an empty husk. Faust has no say in the matter. She has no control. Can it really be called resignation when you're so empty that you can't even resign yourself to your fate?

And as some extra icing on the cake, there's something poignantly cruel about Hex Nail Faust being fatal to Lust and Pride. The Sins tied to actions for one's own sake, whether for emotional fulfillment or tangible benefits, are the ones that hurt Faust the most in the state that reminds her of how few of her actions are actually truly her own.

A lot of this post is just blind speculation on my part, as Faust is one of the more mysterious characters within this cast. I could be completely off on some things for all I know, but I get the feeling I might be onto something here, even if it is just. A general direction, I suppose.

Also this post ended up. Much longer than my other ones, since I decided to go a bit more in depth than I usually do. However, I will also blame Flaw Peacock for this, as I recently got through one of his videos and the way he explains and notes things might have done something to my brain.

Either way, hope this one was enjoyable for you guys, as a return to my longass analytical postings.

[fancoloredglasses]

[RERUN] Crisis on Infinite Earths, issue 11: “Aftershock” (Same great universe, now 80% smaller!)

[All images are owned by DC Comics, please don’t sue me]

PREVIOUSLY ON…

A being known as the Anti-Monitor has destroyed all but 5 of the universes in existence) with a single survivor on Earth-6 (Lady Quark) and Earth-Prime (Superboy) along for the ride)

Unfortunately, the process was unstable, meaning that time has merged (meaning mammoths and futuristic aliens are among modern skyscrapers) in the areas where the Earths are merged (which are called “Warp Zones”)

The Anti-Monitor’s last three attempts to destroy the multiverse have been thwarted (at the cost of many lives, including Supergirl and Earth-1’s Flash)

The Anti-Monitor’s fourth attempt brought the battle to the Dawn of Time, where the Anti-Monitor attempted to destroy the multiverse before it began, but his efforts were thwarted by the Spectre.

…or were they? As the pair fought for control, reality shattered around them and the assembled heroes!

Now, on with our story! If you would like to read this issue, it (along with the rest of the series) has been collected in graphic novel form and is available (or can be ordered) at your favorite comic shop, bookstore, or online retailer…or on Read Comic Online.

[WARNING: Things are gonna get a bit weirder and more confusing than they’ve been to this point (and that’s saying something!) Furthermore, the jokes could be a bit thin here. I’m not certain if you’ll call that a bad thing or not]

We open on Clark Kent (Kal-L) as he wakes up from a bizarre dream. His wife Lois obviously let him sleep in…and redecorated? He heads to his “day job” as managing editor of the Daily Star. He enters his office and is about to get to work…

…when Perry White barges in and demands to know who’s in his office. That’s when Kal-L noticed Perry’s name on the office door. In barges Clark Kent (Superman) who apologizes to Perry and introduces his “Uncle Clark” before escorting Kal-L from the building.

On the top of the Daily Planet, they guess that somehow after the Spectre’s fight with the Anti-Monitor, they both were transported to Earth-1. They fly to the warp zone in New York…

…only it’s not there. What’s more, no one remembers there ever being anything weird in the area (though they do remember Supergirl’s death).

They then fly to Central City, where the Flash (who is still considered “missing”, as no one was present for his sacrifice) stored his cosmic treadmill…

…only to see the twin cities of Central City (home to Earth-1′s Flash) and Keystone City (home to Earth-2′s Flash) Sure enough, Jay Garrick (Earth-2′s Flash) and his wife Joan greet the pair. Joan doesn’t remember what happened, but Jay does. They fetch Kid Flash and start the cosmic treadmill and break through the dimensional barrier

…to a void; Earth-2 isn’t there! What’s more, Kal-L feels the void calling to him, like he belongs there…though the Flash doesn’t feel the same call!

They return before Kal-L can run to the void, and everyone reaches the same conclusion: there is only one universe now, but obviously elements of the old realities are different from the new reality…and some elements never existed!

While the four contact as many heroes as they can find to discuss the ramifications, we switch to deep space. Rip Hunter’s time sphere (carrying Hunter, Adam Strange, Captain Comet, Dolphin, Atomic Knight, and Animal Man) encounter Brainiac’s ship adrift.

They board to investigate and discover the corpse (if a robot can have a corpse) of Brainiac.

Back on Earth, many of the heroes have gathered at Titan’s Tower, where they’re all checking each others’ math to make sure everyone has put two and two together. Huntress and Earth-2′s Robin explain that they, like Kal-L, don’t exist in this “new Earth”. Superboy-Prime is shocked when he finds out his Earth never existed either (that’s what happens when your universe was written in just so it could become a victim. Just ask Lady Quark)

Suddenly, Harbinger appears (having somehow regained her powers due to the new reality) and confirms this fact, and explains that some elements of each individual earths’ histories no longer existed (though reality seems to have conformed around Earth-1 primarily. I guess DC would have lost a lot of readers if it conformed around Earth-X), meaning only the modern versions of the “duplicate” heroes (like Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman) are part of this new reality, while heroes that share a name, but not a past (like Flash, Green Lantern, and Atom) exist alongside their younger counterparts. 

Kal-L flips out at this news, as it means that he will never see his wife Lois again.

As Kal-L flies off in a streak of self-pity, we switch to the Spirit Realm, where the Spectre lies unconscious, severely weakened by his battle with the Anti-Monitor (I’m sure this will be important later)

Back on Earth, the heroes continue to compare notes. It seems the villains don’t remember the multiverse (since they weren’t at the Dawn of Time), but it seems that Power Girl (Kal-L’s cousin) is remembered. No one is sure how that works.

Suddenly, the weather turns ugly, just as it did when a universe was about to–

Uh-oh…

Earth has been pulled into the Anti-Matter universe!

…dedulcnoc eb oT

[shinagawa-division]

The Spider and The Butterfly Wedding (Shinomiya Voicelines Ver.)

— Malphas

“Today’s finally the day, huh?…I still can’t believe it, never in my life did I think I would find myself here, actually settling down and with A.D.A. no less, ha, I bet if my past self saw me now he’d short-circuit to the point of rebooting. But I wouldn’t change a single thing, I’ve got no regrets.”

(To Aiko) “Happy Birthday, lil sis. I still feel a little bad that we’re missing out on your birthday but seeing all excited, I guess it’s worth it, thanks for helping us plan the whole thing, you were a huge help. Just try not to crash, okay? A.D.A.’s still gonna need her maid of honor at her side.”

(To Seizou) “You look adorable, Sei, Aiko’s done a good job dressing you up, so, are you excited?…I’ll take that as a yes. I really appreciate you doing this for me, little brother, I know you’ll do a good job out there.”

(To A.R.K.) “Never thought I’d live to see you in a suit, A.R.K. I gotta admit, you clean up nicely. It’s weird to think that we’re going to be brothers in a few hours but hey, weirder shit has happened with us before.”

(To A.M.U.) “Aw, well don’t you look pretty, A.M.U. Your flower basket matching with Seizou’s ring pillow is a nice touch, you don’t have to convince me you’re excited, don’t worry, I can already tell.”

(To A.D.A.) “To be honest, I never gave much thought about love and romance, I was and still am a weapon, and weapons don’t love. I was fine with that, more than fine with that…until a pretty little butterfly flew my way and suddenly everything got…brighter and now it seems I can’t do anything but to love you. It still doesn’t feel real but looking at you now…I’ve never seen a sight more beautiful, A.D.A., my precious butterfly, my beautiful wife, I still can’t believe you actually want to be with me but I promise I’ll spend the rest of eternity loving you with everything in my programming.”

— Aiko

“Alright, this is it! Everything we’ve been working on has lead up to this moment, everyone! Let’s make this wedding go off without a hitch, for big brother and big sis!”

(To Malphas) “BIG BROTHER!! You look so handsome! Also today’s finally the day!! You’re getting married to Big Sis A.D.A!! This is the best birthday ever! I’m really happy for you, big bro! You and big sis A.D.A. make a really cute couple and I know how happy she makes you, I wish you both all the happiness in the world!”

(To Seizou) “Sei-chaaaaaaan! You look so adorable! C’mon, give me a biiiiiig smile!…Oh well, don’t worry, you’ll get there! Just a little more practice! Now, hold the pillow firmly but gently, you don’t wanna squish it but we also can’t let the rings go falling out, you’re gonna do just fine! I believe in you!”

(To A.D.A.) *gasps and squeals* “Big Sis! You look so pretty!! Soooo, are you excited? Are you? Are you?! You get to marry my big brother and we can become sisters for real!! But also…thank you, for making my big brother happy, he doesn’t think so but I believe he’s deserving of love and you’re the perfect person to give it to him.”

(To A.R.K.) “Hehehe, you look really good A.R.K.! Or should I call you, big brother A.R.K. now? After all, we’re all gonna be one big family now! It’s so exciting so have so many siblings!”

(To A.M.U.) “A.M.U.-chan, you look sooo pretty!! You and Sei-chan are gonna look so cute walking down the aisle! Now if only we can you both to smile without it looking unnatural, oh well, it’s fine, that’s what we love about you two.”

— Seizou

“Ah…Nii-sama is getting married today, Seizou does not fully understand the concept of marriage but Seizou will make sure be on his best behavior and do his tasks efficiently.”

(To Malphas) “Nii-sama…the most proper response is to tell you for such occasions like these is “Congratulations” so congratulations, Seizou will make sure to perform his duties with the upmost diligence.”

(To Aiko) “Nee-sama, thank you for the compliments, Seizou is glad he is able to please you. However, please refrain from constricting Seizou so tightly, it would be inappropriate for Seizou to show up disheveled.”

(To A.M.U.) “A.M.U.-chan, everyone appears to be in high levels of excitement, it…looks nice, Sei-…I want to reach that level of excitement one day, let’s do our best together, for both Nii-sama and A.D.A.-neesama.”

(To A.D.A.) “A.D.A.-neesama, Seizou thinks you look very pretty, Seizou believes that the chance of this event being a success is at a 100%, Seizou also believes that the chance of Nii-sama being attracted to you should he see you will increase by tenfold.”

(To A.R.K.) “A.R.K.-sama, Seizou wants to express gratitude for the combat lessons, now should anyone attempt to disrupt the event, Seizou will be equipped to efficiently neutralize the threat.”