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yangjungwonisms · 1 day ago

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Noona?- YJW

This one’s a little naughty mixed with pure yearning hehe hope you enjoy!

CW: pure filth, NSFW| MDNI 18+

For as long as Jungwon can remember he had feelings for you. He distinctly remembers the very first time he met you. You were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. He tried everything he could think of to get to know you but you always kept him at arms length. It also happened that you were 5 years older than him. He was never bothered by your age difference but he was a teenager when you two had met and you never saw him as more than a kid. Still, he tried to get you to notice him, your age gap never bothered him. Especially since he always acted older than his age anyways. It was hard to remember he was so much younger than you because of how mature he was. Slowly but surely you started to let your guard down around him. For one, he was finally able to get you to come over to his place alone.

You always had some kind of idea of his feelings for you. But you were never in a position to allow yourself to imagine any scenario where you two could be together. But lately, you had started to think about him differently. Most of the time you felt confused about your own evolving feelings for Jungwon. He may have been a teenager when you met but he had been an adult for nearly 3 years now. Would it be so wrong to let it happen?

Jungwon had been subtlety dropping hints about his attraction towards you for months now. Normal actions that weren’t inherently sexual such as him putting his hand on your lower back when holding the door open for you and walking in behind you started to shift. It was normal if you were to look at it from an outside perspective. However, his touch had started lingering. Lately he had become much touchier with you than you had ever noticed before. You tried not to overthink anything but you couldn’t help but get worked up over the little touches he’d give you every now and then. Each brush of his fingers against your leg when sitting next to you felt like electricity running through your body. Still, some small part of you was hesitant to get involved with him because of his age. However, over time you had grown accustomed to his presence, he was someone you had grown to rely on quite a bit. The attraction you felt towards each other was never just physical. Jungwon understood you in a way that almost no one else did. You weren’t just some conquest to him. No, he’d been in love with you for a long time. He’d been patient with you though, letting you come to terms with your own feelings for him on your own time. He’d had enough waiting though, he knew how you felt but didn’t understand why you were holding yourself back. He knew you two could be great together if only you’d let your guard down enough to let it happen.

Which is why, when he invited you over for dinner that night he was determined to make it happen between you two. Except when you walked into his apartment he got nervous. You looked beautiful and he couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of pride knowing you’d dressed up so pretty for him. “Wow, Noona you look beautiful all dressed up like that. Did you do all that for me”? Your face immediately turned all red. You attempted to stutter out some kind of excuse but you didn’t have one because you did indeed dress up for him. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t”. He pulled you in for a hug and helped you take off your jacket. Except he just couldn’t help but get lost in the feel of you so close to him. “Mmm and you smell good too. You’re spoiling me Noona. Do you give any of the other guys this kind of special treatment”? He knew the answer was no.

Desperate to change the subject you pull a bottle of wine out of the bag you brought. You were going to wait until dinner to drink but he had started his flirting way earlier in the night than you expected and you were gonna need liquid courage to make it through this. You go to the exact drawer where you know Jungwon keeps a corkscrew so you can open the wine. He’s quick to beat you to it, opening the drawer with ease and passing it to you. The drag of his palm against yours is near torturous, as he’s moving it as slow as humanly possible before finally depositing it in your hand. When he finally pulls his hand away from yours you feel a thin sheen of sweat start to break out over your body. Your hands seemed to be the most affected by the way you’re struggling to open the wine. Jungwon had been watching you from across the room with catlike precision. Before you can even say anything he moves to stand behind you, placing his hand over yours where you’re trying but failing miserably so to open the wine. “Let me help you”. That’s all he says before he starts guiding your movements. He’s standing so close to you that when he breathes you can feel his entire body move against yours. The feeling alone is enough to make you go weak in the knees. You’re holding your breath waiting for him to finally pull away from you. Except he doesn’t, instead he slowly turns you around so now you’re facing him but he’s somehow gotten you caged in between him and the counter. “You’re killing me, do you know that noona”? He didn’t normally call you noona this often. You didn’t like how it made you feel. “What do you mean by that won”? He brings his hand up to your face, moving a stray hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. You subconsciously lean into his touch letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in until he touched you. “Everything you do drives me crazy. I don’t think you know how hard you’re making things for me baby”. The switch from noona to baby had your stomach in knots. You’d inched your face closer to his while he was talking. You were so close that it would only take one brief movement for your lips to touch. “please Jungwon”. You didn’t even know what you were asking for but Jungwon is quick to respond. “Hmm baby? What is it, tell me”. You had closed your eyes, willing yourself to take a deep breath trying to calm yourself down before things went any further. “Wonie, since when do you call me baby”? You’d never called him that before but the sentiment behind it spread a dangerous heat throughout his body. “Oh baby you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to call you this”. He was barely hanging on by a thread being this close to you. “Say it again, please”. “Hmm you like when I talk to you like this baby”? God he had no idea how much you liked it. “To be honest with you won, my body feels like it’s on fire right now with how close you are to me. I can hardly think about anything else”. At that all patience he has is long gone. He succeeds in caging you all the way against the counter. From this angle you can feel every part of his body.

Jungwon was pressed up against you so snugly that he’s leaving very little to the imagination. He’s hard against your thigh, you can almost make out the exact feel of his cock from the sheer proximity. You let out a groan completely surrendering yourself to him at this point. You move your hands up to grab his collar to bridge the gap between your lips. “Fuck, just kiss me Jungwon”. He wasted no time kissing you. He’s imagined the feel of your lips against his for so long that now you’ve let him have a taste there was no going back. The kiss isn’t slow, it’s anything but. Within seconds you two are all over each other. And within minutes you two have moved from the kitchen to the hallway. He’s trying to get you into his bedroom but at the pace you’re both going it’s more likely he’s going to fuck you hard and fast against the wall.

“Fuck, can’t believe you’re letting me kiss you like this noona”. You don’t respond you just slide your hand down his body and started cupping him over his jeans. His hips stutter taking a second to try and ground himself so he doesn’t grind up into your hand. He has no concept of self control right now as he loses himself in the feeling of your hand touching his cock. “oh fuck baby, your hand feels so good on my cock”. At this point he’s losing himself in the sensation of your hand unbuttoning his jeans and sliding your hand into his pants. You waste no time running your hand up and down his shaft trying to get a feel of him. “mm you better get used to the feel of it baby because I’m gonna fuck you so hard you aren’t gonna be able to walk in the morning”.

He’s quick to push your hand out of his pants and pushes you against the wall. His body is flush against yours when he leans back in to kiss you. He takes the opportunity to push the bottom of your dress up over your hips. He’s quick to move his hand in between your thighs. He rubs his thumb over your underwear earning a shudder from you as soon he makes contact with your clit. Your head falls back against the wall leaving your mouth open in a silent moan. In one swift movement Jungwon yanks your underwear down and starts his ministrations on your clit back up. A few minutes later he has two fingers fucking in and out of you at a harsh pace. Once he’s sure you’re ready to take his cock he pulls his fingers out of you which earns him a rather loud whine from you. He pulls his pants and underwear down in one go immediately lining himself up with your entrance. You’re bracing yourself for him to push into you but instead he simply takes the tip of his cock and starts rubbing it against your clit. It only takes him a few minutes to bring you to the brink of an orgasm. “Think you could cum like this noona”? Instead of answering you grip onto his forearm to steady yourself effectively positioning yourself to grind down back and forth on his cock. “want you to fuck me please wonie”. He can only shake his head, his hands seem to have a mind of their own speeding up the pace at which his tip was rubbing your clit. “wanna make you cum like this first noona”. It only takes him another 30 seconds before you’re both moaning into each other’s mouths as you cum.

He wastes no time picking you up and lining his cock up at your entrance. He meets no resistance as he starts to fuck you against the wall. Your body barely having had enough time to recover is shaking with overstimulation. Yet you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s fucking you so good. “you’re such a dirty fucking girl letting me fuck you against the wall like this”. His hips are starting to piston in and out of you at a blinding pace. He can’t help but let out a growl at how good your pussy feels around his cock. “Fuck, been waiting to have you like this for ages baby. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted”. You’re moaning so loud at this point you’re quite sure all of his neighbors can surmise what you’re up to. “You gonna be mine now that I’ve gotten to fuck your tight little pussy noona”? You can’t answer as your second orgasm of the night hits you like a truck and knocks all of the air out of you. You let out a scream so loud it could easily be mistaken as you being murdered. You aren’t sure when he finishes or even when he’s pulled out of you and gotten you into his room. But when you do come to he’s already gotten you cleaned up and changed into something more comfortable.

To your surprise there isn’t any awkwardness between you two. Jungwon is quick to reassure you of his feelings for you “god you look so beautiful right now. I hope you know you’re mine now baby”. You pull him into a deep kiss before adding “good, because I don’t plan on sharing you with anyone else”. He laughed at that before pulling you into his arms and settling down into bed with you.

You two have the what are we conversation the next morning after your haze of lust has lifted. It’s then that Jungwon admits how he truly feels about you and that he’s in love with you. After establishing your relationship he fucks you long and hard in his bed. By the time you two have finished he’s lived up to his promise of you not being able to walk the next morning.

#kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop writers #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #kpop smut #jungwon smut #yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon enhypen

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sylus-little-meow-meow · 1 day ago

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Hide and Seek: A yandere Sylus Fic

A Yan!Sylus x reader fic.

Cw: Kiddnaping, forced entrapment

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???: Kitten~

???: Where did you go? Have you found yourself in trouble, yet again?

His voice is a soft purr and you can hear the crunch of footsteps approaching.

You cover your mouth, trying to catch your breath while remaining hidden, actively avoiding jostling the bell attached to the collar fastened to your neck.

You would've removed it, but you need a special key in order to do so.

Of course that's what Sylus intended.

He never wanted his precious little “kitten” getting out and escaping.

You close your eyes, tears pricking at the corners.

Don't let him find me. Don't let him find me.

Sylus: It's dangerous outside, especially in the N109 Zone.

Sylus: Just come back home with me and I'll keep you safe and protected.

You shift, tensing up as you hear him approaching, your heart slamming against your rib cage.

This backwards alleyway can only keep you concealed for so long.

Sylus no doubt knows you didn't get very far considering as soon as you managed to break out of his property, he gave chase, alerted by that damned crow of his.

You don't see mephisto, but you hear the flap of mechanical wings.

He's no doubt scouting the area, searching for your location in order to give Sylus your whereabouts.

This entire area is full of surveillance.

You're like a trapped animal.

His pet “kitten.”

???: We shouldn't play hide and seek in such a terrible place, sweetie.

The purr on his lips turns visceral and you can tell he's starting to get agitated by your lack of compliance.

You hear his footsteps pause just outside the open mouth of the alleyway you're heading in and your body starts to tremble, praying that he won't investigate further.

I'm not here. I'm not here.

???: You're no longer a street cat, but have you returned to your old habits?

He's coming closer.

Your worst fears have come true, Sylus never one to leave any stone unturned.

Go away.

But he doesn't listen.

Crunch.

His footsteps are so close you feel like you can almost hear his breathing and you clench your jaw shut so your teeth don't rattle or capture his attention.

Sylus: Oh, kitten. Did you really think you could escape from me?

There's a sudden bang and your breath hitches.

Light peers in through the dumpster and you remain as still as possible, hoping that your camouflage works, your body submerged under a few trash bags.

It smells disgusting here, like rotten banana peels and spoiled milk.

You see Sylus wrinkle his nose in disgust.

He slams the lid back shut and you hear the retreat of footsteps echoing as he continues his search elsewhere.

Did he really leave? Did he not notice me?

Maybe the stench also did you a favor in causing him not to linger, but you wait a few more minutes, allowing them to pass by while you try to drum up your next plan of action.

When you think the coast is clear, you sit up and peek out from underneath the lid.

He's gone.

Breathing a sigh of relief you climb out and pluck some pieces of garbage off your shoulder as you slip towards the opening of the alleyway.

You peer around the corner.

Good. He's nowhere in sight. Now if I can just—

A wrist grabs yours and you're hauled backwards, your heart lodging in your throat as you're pulled against a hard chest, a cuff link appearing around that same wrist as your evol tangles with that of another.

You: No!

You're voice is a scream and you try fighting but the arm around your waist is like a band of steel.

You tilt your head back, your entire body shaking as crimson eyes stare down at you, a smug grin tugging at the white haired man's lips.

Sylus: Found you, kitten~.

youtube

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #sylus angst #Yan!sylus #sylus fic #lads sylus #Sylus yandere #yandere #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #Youtube

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911lsbts · 2 days ago

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With 9-1-1: Lone Star soon coming to an end, what’s one of the biggest things you’d say you learned about yourself while working on the series?

I’ve learned a lot about myself over the past 5 years working on this show. In many ways, I could say it was like another coming-of-age. So much has happened in the duration: I moved across the country from NYC to LA, endured the pandemic, the strikes all while working on it.

I’d say the biggest thing I learned is how to balance preparing and surrendering. In my crafting as an actor but also in life. I went to acting school and learned techniques for how to prepare for a performance and get myself ready to do what the scenes called for. And the process takes time. You need time with the script to not only learn the words but know what’s going on and what you need to do to get yourself in the space you need to live out the scene. In theatre, you have all this time to rehearse, but in TV, and in ACTION TV that is not the case.

Sometimes, the script was in revisions and you only got a couple pages to shoot your scene and your lines are different. Or you were going to rehearse the scene but the previous scene had a tech issue and we’re losing the location so we have to just jump into the emotional scene you thought you were doing the next day right now. Or you rehearsed the scene fine but when all the special effects are going, you’re trying to deliver this deep emotional scene hanging from a cable getting drenched in freezing water.

All these things that are out of my control would be happening but I’m still responsible for my performance. And I had to learn how to adapt my process to the production.

I learned how to prepare to let go.

On a separate note, what’s a practical skill you’d say you were surprised to learn while working on the series? Has playing a firefighter/paramedic come in handy in your personal life in any way?

I learned real fast that my little gym muscles wouldn’t cut it on this job. So I learned the importance of functional fitness and mobility work. But I can operate a fire extinguisher, and can don turnouts and an SCBA in less than 3 mins.

Luckily, I haven’t had to rescue anyone in real life since the show but I feel confident that I could help if something went down.

Without wanting to give away where Paul Strickland’s storyline might end in Lone Star, what do you (hypothetically) hope he’s up to, say, 10, 20 years down the line?

I hope that professionally, he’s still able to serve and help people and that he’s confident in his ability to lead. That he and Asha have a family of their own—Papa Paul has a nice ring to it and you can just tell he’d be a great dad. And you know, maybe they’d have a restaurant business on the side. Something that combines his two favorite things: cooking and books. He’s in Austin so it can be funky, you know. Yeah, he and Asha could have opened Austin’s first reading restaurant, it has gourmet food and a lending library.

#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #article #brian michael smith #s5

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somewillwin · 2 days ago

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Hey, how are you doing? I’m wondering what do you have in mind for Vi during the period of the divorce era and their attempt at only friendship afterwards, can you share with us a bit more about that? I wonder what might be going on with her and if Cait can feel anything about Vi that gives her pause or confuses her about all this besides the tattoos. And will the tattoos be the same since she got all of them in stillwater in the main universe? I’m really curious about it bc rn it feels like she is "forced" (for lack of a better word) to feel uncomfortable sensations that make her miserable/heartbroken/sad/angry 80% of her time lmao I was just reading another ask you received and I think it’s fair for Cait to feel disheartened that Vi can't see her true intentions and beliefs when it comes to her decision to become an enforcer, esp since this is on 2x07 au universe and to her Vi has contact with ppl like Grayson in the AU and we know what Grayson, an enforcer and sheriff, means to Cait as a mentor but it’s also completely fair for Vi to feel strongly averse to this given the way she had to deal with loss and violence from a very young age because of enforcers and how this affected and traumatized her and also her family, especially her sister, and we know how Vi works when it comes to that Imo it’s pretty justifiable that Vi would have a hard time understanding why her soulmate would want to be part of this group when she know what happened to her and how much that still affects her even if Vander/Cassandra/Grayson are making progress regarding that and in the au things are not nearly as dire as it is in the main canon at this point (also hextech and shimmer doesn't exist and that changes a lot of things too) I feel it’s much more complicated them just x made more sacrifices than y so they deserve more or they deserve less because of it. Plus these two are teenagers or young adults in love who still don't really know how to navigate their emotions properly in a divided world. And it's a world where Vi has more to lose in a broader aspect. I think Cait motivations to become an enforcer are, among others, exactly to bridge this gap in an everlasting manner. Imo she sees it as a way to change things permanently. "What (who) are you shooting for, young Kiramman?". If we agree or not, or if we'd do the same or not, it's up to us individually but from what I understand what we're talking about here is not that but what Cait and Vi think given their circumstances at this point of the story Also I'm really curious to see the parents but most of all the siblings (of both sides) reaction to the mess these two are creating with their miscommunication even tho they are soulmates lol but I bet their bond will be even stronger by the end when they are more mature and have a better understand of themselves and of each other. Apologies for the really long text!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

Well vi is gonna be mostly fighting with herself here, and lashing out and getting her tattoos. I don’t plan for her to start drinking cause she’s baby still and I want her to be happy. She’s just conflicted and needs to figure out what does she wants.

Maybe I’ll get her to date Gert during the friendship era after the divorce… she just wants to know how it feels with other people, if maybe she can be happy or love someone else like that. (Both of them have Grayson and Cassandra as example that you can be soulmates and not being together, but also remain on each others lives, not like Vander and Silco)

It obvs doesn’t work cause they are in love so they can’t force themselves to love someone else, specially when they are still meetin regularly during their friendship era….

Oh also… shimmer does exists in this AU. The barons and shimmer are still a big point of conflict in this AU. The barons like to give Vander problems and try to mess up this “peace” that Vander and Cassandra have been able to build fighting the council, and anything could tip the council into a direction that would put everything at risk like it was before.

(Vander is not on the council btw, he is just considered as the leader of Zaun by them)

The thing about cait as a character and that I didn’t want to change in this AU. Is her sense of justice… how important it is to her. She wants to protect people and she feels like the enforcers are the best answer for that, BUT she has seen vi and her family and also has felt some of the abuse they are capable of, she is not ignorant to it. She know that joining them climbing in rank AND also because she is a kiramman…. She can change the enforcers, she does have the power to change them and what they stand for. To actually protect people from both Zaun and piltover, not just to protect the interests of the council.

She believes she can do that and she’s gonna work til she does it. She wanted vi to understand that’s why she was joining them and not because she thinks like them… but ofc vi trauma about the enforcers it’s A LOT… so she’s not able to understand that at this moment.

About the parents??? Lmaooo they are going through it.

Yes, both Vander and Cassandra advised them to take things slow after they met at the hospital. Warned them about the soulmate thing not always working out. THEY DIDNT EXPECT THEM TO TAKE IT AT A GLACIAL PACE THO.

Cassandra didn’t like AT ALL that cait joined the enforcers, she was even more pissed when cait came home with Maddie and introduced her as her girlfriend. Cassandra loves vi, she has seen how happy she makes caitlyn and like EVERYONE ELSE can see how much they love eachother. She can see how miserable cait is without vi and how she is forcing smiles and just… forcing feeling for Maddie.

Vander can see how miserable vi is and she can see going into an auto destructive state and that she is also hurting her soulmate with it. So she’s constantly giving her talks about the consequences of hurting your soulmate and yourself and that she could end up just breaking them beyond repair if she continues down that path. Vander has worked with Grayson for yeaaars so he has seen the good and the bad of the enforcers and keeps helping vi with this but is letting her keep her own path and trusting her to pick with her heart instead of her head. She has a good heart after all.

Th kids are just talking about their divorce and just… they are so done with both these idiots.

#soulmates AU #damn this is so long #I don’t even know if I answered your ask #shhshshshs #or if this makes sense

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steviewashere · 2 days ago

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Little Town Bar Bathroom

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Minor vomiting in the beginning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Use, Steve is tipsy for a good majority of this fic Tags: No Upside Down AU, No Supernatural Elements, Modern Setting AU, Hurt/Comfort, Mostly Comfort, Fluff, Bartender Eddie Munson, Tipsy Steve Harrington, It Starts in a Bar Bathroom, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues, Down on His Luck Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Countdown to New Years, First Kiss, Implied Getting Together, Happy Ending Also here on AO3, because this one is over 5k words 😬

🎆—————🎆 Working at a bar had its perks. There was a consistent stream of regulars that he constantly talked to. He could change up the specials menu whenever he wanted—adding his own flare to the mix, if he so pleased. Sometimes, he had reign over the music. And, more often than not, he was allowed a free drink by the end of his shift.

The downsides, however, were long and weary. Customers who didn’t know what they were ordering, who swore him to Satan’s asshole if he got something wrong, and tried to barge their way in with fake IDs (as if he wasn’t going to check them). Oftentimes, the bar was packed and too hot and made him sweat like nobody’s business—hell, his shower had a run for its money the other night from how pervasive his musk had been. The last major issue he had took place in the bathrooms.

Given that this is a bar he works at, the stalls often fill with every drunk imaginable. The quiet ones that need a moment to breathe, the guys who can’t keep their hands to themselves (who Eddie has to often throw out), a few who are completely sober and just there to piss, and then the oddball loner. But since they’re drunk—well, the bathroom is often the majority of their custodial staff’s paycheck. Eddie doesn’t handle all that vomit bullshit well, despite tending the very thing causing customers to do that.

It’s tonight, though—New Years Eve, forty minutes to midnight, forty minutes to 2023—that the very thing he hates leads him to the only thing he unconditionally loves. He’s cleaning up the spilled beer on his countertop when he gets the innate, incredible urge to pee. The bar is crowded, so he wrestles in another tender, and speeds away to the men’s restroom. Everything’s going according to plan, as much of a plan as there is when it comes to using a public bathroom, up until he hears it. Somebody in the stall adjacent to him, retching up their entire soul in the toilet bowl.

He winces, just finished drying his hands off, anxiety teeming like water about to boil over, and moves on autopilot to knock on the door. “Y’alright in there, man?” Looking at the bottom of the door, he spots only one pair of sneakers—some Nike Cortez that are roughed up and peeling, falling apart from how much they’ve been used—assuming is easy; the guy doesn’t have any buddies in the bathroom with him. “Noticing there’s nobody else but us in here right now,” Eddie comments. “Can I fetch somebody for you? Help you get home?”

The guy jerks with another sound, moaning miserably once he’s done. He flushes the toilet, but makes no other move. “Alone,” he musters, “she just left me here.”

Eddie bites his tongue. Failed New Years date. Oh, boy. He sighs quietly. “Do you, uh, have someone you can call? Or…uh, I could see if my manager’s free, she could order you a Lyft? They should be free tonight, considering everybody’s drinking.”

“I…I’ll be fine,” the stranger croaks, “been in here a while. I’m sobering. Barely had anything to drink, honest.”

“You think you’re done with the worst of it? Make your way outta the stall?”

“Why? So you can berate me for making a mess of your bathrooms?”

Jeez, this guy is defensive. “No, man. So that I could get you some water, a ride home, maybe some food?”

He groans in the stall, still hunched over the toilet. “Don’t wanna go back out there. Got a fucking headache, all the booze and shit will make it worse.”

Eddie rubs a tired hand over his forehead. “My shift’s over in literally five minutes. Would you…would you feel comfortable enough to go to the diner next door with me? I’ve got some Advil in my employee locker. And I could get you a cheeseburger.”

The guy goes completely quiet and still.

He goes to try and shimmy around with the door, maybe get it off its hinges or something, make sure he’s not choking or—

But then he sniffles softly. “That sounds really nice,” he says, “you’re really nice. What’s…what’s your name?”

“Eddie, and yours?”

“Steve,” he breathes. “Sorry I’m such a sack of crap. Wasting your time.”

“Mm, you’re making it easier for me to clock out, actually. Wasting my time would be somebody trying to return a drink that’s been remade correctly five times. That’s when somebody should be sorry.” He peers down at his watch, right on the money to clock out. “I’m gonna get myself out of the schedule and I’ll come back to get you, okay? We’ll just hang out at the diner. And…I’ve got Lyft on my phone, I’ll call you one when you’re feeling a bit better.”

“Okay,” Steve sighs. “I’ll be waiting.”

He makes a quick turn out of the bathroom, rushing back towards the break room before he can get caught and berated by the other bartender he left to attend to customers. It’s as easy as 1-2-3, punching out, putting away his apron, and grabbing for his things inside his locker. Thankfully, there’s still a bottle of Advil. Granted, there’s only enough for one dose and he typically needs to take one after his shift for his sore feet, but he’ll make do this one time. This one exception—Steve.

Once back in the restroom, the stall that Steve occupied is now empty. Though, standing at the sink and lazily washing his hands is probably the most gorgeous stranger Eddie’s ever seen. Blue jeans and a deep red sweater, hidden under a tattered, brown leather jacket. Lean and tall, broad shoulders, big hands; moles dotting every square inch of bare skin, pink lips, droopy hazel eyes, and a nose that could rival every statue masterpiece. Then, he makes direct eye contact with Eddie.

Caught out. Stilled. But then he chuckles awkwardly, trying to ease some sort of tension—a tension Eddie can’t see. “Managed to get away from the toilet,” he says, “room’s spinnin’ a little.”

Quickly, Eddie’s coming up beside him, placing his left hand on Steve’s back. “How much did you drink, man? Somebody should’ve cut you off.”

“Only a few shots and a beer,” Steve mutters. “Guess I’m more of a lightweight than I thought I was? I don’t know…don’t know…it’s been a while. Usually come here when I got someone to sit down with.” His head lolls back down towards his hands, scrubbing at them loosely under the water. There’s a tired, defeated, sad glint in his eyes. “Been striking out,” he mumbles, “people looking for…for situationships. I don’t even know…what does that mean? I wanted a date, not sex.”

Eddie sighs through his nose and eases his hand up and down the curve of Steve’s spine, petting him as if to soothe him. Which, he supposes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. It’s not the first time he’s met a person out of their luck, crying into their drink. But the look in Steve’s eyes physically hurts. It reopens a hot chasm inside of him, bubbling like magma.

“Just take a minute,” Eddie murmurs, “let the room settle.”

Steve nods, slow and tired. Heavy. “Sorry, Eddie. I swear I’m better than this.” There’s a flash of a smile at those words, one that falls away just as quick as it came. He sniffles again, wet and unmistakeable. “Gonna be ringing in the new year alone, though. And I’ve got a headache. But…hey, I met you. Highlight of my night.”

When he chances a new look of Steve’s face fully, Eddie notes the fresh tracks of tears staining ruddy red cheeks. He coos softly under his breath, pressing his hand more firmly into his back, and stretches out to grab a distant paper towel. The water is still streaming from the faucet, and so he dips the napkin’s edge into the warm pour. Gently, he shifts Steve to face him better and brings the damp corner to his cheeks, patting over the tracks, rejuvenating the color in Steve’s skin so that it all matches.

For a moment, he’s caught out by the still watering hazel eyes on him—damn gorgeous they are, even like this—but they blink at him and he feels it, the stretch of Steve’s small smile. He returns it, of-fucking-course he returns it.

“Let’s get you cheered up, baby,” Eddie says softly, “the sky’s too full of fireworks for you to be sad.”

His palm strokes over Steve’s back, a heavy sweep of warmth. There’s the lulling rise and fall of his lungs, each breath unwavering and strong now, and not as nasally as it had been only moments prior. A hand sets on Eddie’s left hip, secure where it rests, fingers tightening into his belt loops.

“You always hang out with random strangers from the bar?” Steve questions quietly. There’s a hint, a little bit of something coating those words. A tidbit of heartbreak, if he had to give a name to it.

This close, Eddie can smell the last dredges of alcohol on Steve’s breath. There’s also the scent of his cologne, even as stale as it’s gone when he’d been hunched over the toilet, but it lingers. Peppery and warm and decadent like a slice of apple pie from the diner next door. He’s already getting that Steve’s as sweet as one, just needs to be righted slightly so it stands tall on the center of the plate.

The next words out of his mouth are tender and quiet, “No,” Eddie whispers, “you’re the only one.”

Steve hums, soaking up just as pie crust does. His hand tightens again on Eddie’s side. And then he sways them, half-steps, knees knocking. The sink is still streaming and there’s red rimming Steve’s honey eyes. It’s all so private. It’s almost just theirs.

“Saying I’m an exception?” Steve then murmurs.

His words land like gentle pecks to Eddie’s lips. And they’re closer than before. And he’d let them get even closer, if there was room.

“Why, you wanna be?”

“Mhm,” Steve buzzes.

The restroom door opens, a foot sandwiched in the gap of their space and the entire world. Eddie doesn’t let go, even if he was supposed to. Steve does, wearily aware. He finds himself not disappointed, though, not even in the slightest.

“You wanna be an exception over burgers now? There’s apple pie, too.”

“Yeah, Eds”—and oh, how that makes his chest flutter something incredible, his heart a newborn bird eager to take flight—“I wanna be your exception.”

If he wasn’t intrigued and swooning before, he most definitely is now.

But as it is, he simply pats Steve on the back and leads him out towards the bar again. Zipping through crowds of girls and forcing his way between boys about to brawl. There’s beer spilling out onto his clothes, that he hopes isn’t getting on Steve’s—doesn’t want to tarnish the absolute darling beauty he’s managed to rescue from the swamps of a muggy bar bathroom. Though, maybe it’s unavoidable. Maybe it’s just what is meant to happen.

Because something about Steve, his hand gripped tight in Eddie’s, the bounce of his step, his glassy eyes and loose smile when Eddie looks over his shoulder—something about the Steve of it all feels as close to myth alive as he’s allowed to believe. And, well, if there are more than three religions and some people don’t believe in any of it at all, then he can hold onto whatever the hell he wants. If Steve at his heels, chest slamming into his back as the cold outside air finally whips them in the face, is destiny, then…Eddie finally believes in destiny.

When the bar’s doors slam behind them and they’re overcome with the noise of distant fireworks and cars rolling by on crowded asphalt, Eddie begins to let go. Though, Steve grips to his fingers a smidge tighter than before.

“Wow,” Steve breathes beside him.

Eddie looks to him. His profile. The sharp angle of his nose, droop of his eyes, and curve of his easy smile. He follows his gaze, up to the sky.

A spattering of stars, only broken by the even brighter bursts of twinkling fireworks. Pinks and yellows and whites travel stark across the sky, each ember firing like a shooting star going home. He places his right hand over his chest, the beating of his heart a tumultuous, daunting thing. And he sighs, panting a short breath—

Let me keep him, he wishes, after tonight, let me have him. Please?

Steve squeezes their hands together, fingers sprawling so they can intertwine. His palm is sweaty, he’s shaking slightly. He laughs, though, a sputtering, unbelievable sound. “Thank god I’m outta there,” he whispers. Eddie gazes at the stretch of his neck, how his Adam’s apple resettles after bobbing out each individual word. There’s moles dotting there, too. Constellations, even more wonderful than the stars above them.

At least, Eddie thinks so. Objectively, he’s correct. Won’t hear anybody else on the matter.

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and turns his eyes back to the sky. “Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you can only take so much being cramped in there. Everything’s a little more…”

“Sobering?”

“Real,” he corrects. “Everything’s more real.”

Their fingers are pretzeled together still. And as if to punctuate Eddie’s point, Steve makes him feel the pressure of their hands. As if to say, “We’re a little more real out here, too.” He supposes they are. And he supposes the budding warmth in his sternum—where he’s believed his soul to be his whole life—is real, too.

Eddie blinks, watching white streaks dissipate through the sky. His stomach grumbles, though, and he’s reminded with a back-handed slap why they’re out here. There’s plenty of time to watch fireworks later, but he’s only got such staggering minutes with Steve. And he promised food.

Maybe it’s too honest and maybe it’s a lot stupid—considering Steve is still such a stranger, an enigma to his brain—but he’d promise a whole lot more if he was allowed.

For now, he starts to drag them towards the diner. Only met with minor resistance from Steve’s stance. He relents quickly, though. Following after Eddie like a lost, scruffy puppy. Through the next burst of fireworks, he hears Steve’s stomach give a low grumble, too.

The greasy air of the diner hits him in one strong gust. Salt and cheese and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Pink bubblegum, too, as a hostess greets them at the door and leads them to a booth in the back right corner of the restaurant. The vinyl must be sticky when Steve bounces onto it, grimacing as his fingertips stay stuck like paw-pads on ice. Eddie finds out a second later when he saddles in right across from Steve, collecting the menus from the edge of the table as the hostess struts away to her bored stool at the coffee counter.

He hands over one menu, Steve taking it from him gingerly. With a passing, soft, “Thanks.” His eyes fall to the plastic sheet in his hands, seemingly enthralled by everything there is to choose from.

Eddie already knows what he wants, choosing to gaze ahead.

There’s a tiny pout to Steve’s lips, subtle an gentle, but definitely present. He’s muttering under his breath, thumbs tracing down the margins of the menu, half-formed sentences like, “Cheeseburger…tomatoes…lettuce—hmph—bacon optional, sounds good.” Steve takes the sleeve of his jacket and brings it up under his nose, wiping hastily at its tip. His face isn’t puffy or red anymore, just tinged with exhaustion. Even like this, slumped over a menu and recovering ever so slowly from the cold that had seeped into their bones and the roller coaster of emotions that had worked through their combined blood, Steve’s beauty is magnetic. But his thinking face? His consideration? His marveling wonder outside?

Aside from his looks, the rest of him still draws Eddie in.

Or maybe Eddie’s easier than he thought he was.

Or…or…Eddie knows what he wants.

“Oh, shit,” Steve breathes, “they’ve got fucking onion rings.”

“They’re pretty good,” Eddie amends.

Steve slams his menu to the surface of the table, hands spread, eyes wide insistently. “Of course they’re fucking good! They’re onion rings!” he softly exclaims. “Ooo, get ‘em with barbecue sauce and a Dr. Pepper? That right there is the champion of all meals.”

“Is that what you want?”

The menu’s picked up again. “Mmm…it does sound good…nah,” Steve says, eyes intense on the choices, “I’m still lookin’.”

Eddie snorts indignantly and greets their waitress. Ordering a basket of onion rings for the table, a couple waters, and a Dr. Pepper for “The man of the hour” with a half-gesture at Steve still muttering under his breath. It’s endearing how long it takes for Steve to finally settle on something, even if their combined grumbling stomachs get louder and louder, roaring over the tinny television in the opposite corner to their booth.

“You better pick something soon, else Anderson Cooper’s gonna blackout before the ball drops,” he gently teases, head nodding to the television. Steve looks to it, snorts, and glances back down at the menu. “I could also just pick something for you, if you’re too indecisive?”

“Chicken tenders,” Steve decides, “with crispy fries and a side of ranch.”

“Are you twelve?”

“Hey,” he objects defensively. “I happen to be a man of taste, thank you very much. It just so happens that I’ve got a young soul ’s’all.”

Eddie hums, face betraying him as it splits with a shining smile. Jeez, this guy is endearing. He leans over the table a bit, resting his chin in his hand; Steve mirrors him, smirking. Soft and low, he asks, “You still got a headache, Stevie?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “It’ll probably stick with me tomorrow morning. Which sucks. I should’a left the bar as soon as my date stormed off. Would’a saved me a lot of trouble.”

But then you wouldn’t have met me, he wants to say, and that would suck worse.

“I’ve got Advil when the water comes. It’s the last dose in the bottle, but it should help. And also the Dr. Pepper. Caffeine might be good.”

“I don’t wanna take the last of your pills, man. You probably need it more than I do. Been working all day on your feet, I’m sure.”

He merely shrugs. “Yeah, well…I wanna help you. It’ll bring me some comfort if I can make you feel even a bit better, y’know?” Steve doesn’t say anything to that. Just looks at him like a confused, lost dog. Like he’s being offered scraps from a hand that doesn’t shake when he sniffs it. “But if it really bothers you,” Eddie continues, “then we can figure out a way for you to make it up to me.”

Steve cozies deeper into his hand, blinking long at Eddie. “That sounds good,” he breathes. “Say the word…”

“We’ll figure it out before you go home, okay? Not something for you to worry about now.” He fishes the bottle of Advil from his pants’ pocket and opens it swiftly, spilling the tablets into the well of his palm. Steve’s other hand is flopped over on the table, atop his menu, relaxed. Eddie places the pills in his hand and closes his fingers. No argument. “After you eat, I’ll order your Lyft. And then…maybe I can get your number?” He’s cautious about the conversation, though the words hit him at once. Failed date, New Years Eve, situationship. Eddie rushes to add, “Just so that you can text me when you get home safely, that’s all. Don’t…I don’t wanna come off as, like, preying on you or something. Y’know, after the whole…Yeah. Just. Wanna make sure you get home safe.”

As soon as the breath rushes out of him, it’s like Steve breathes it in, responding with a syrupy, tired giggle fit. His hand fists the Advil tablets tighter. A flush colors his skin, travels down his neck as he loses himself to his laughter. The stretch of his smile and sprawl of his giggles make his nostrils flare. And Eddie doesn’t know how, after seeing the same on so many other guys, but the way Steve’s face simply moves with his joy stirs something in him. Awakes a part that had been hiding in a seemingly unending hibernation.

Shit.

Catching his breath and wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, Steve resettles. Breathes, “You were so worried!”

“I was!” Eddie exclaims. He makes a dramatic show of crossing his arms over his chest, pouting his lips. “I didn’t wanna overstep. It’d be un-gentlemanly of me.”

“Oh,” Steve sighs, breath finally caught. There’s a big, goofy smile on his face still. His eyes glassy with—what Eddie assumes to be—happy tears. “You’ve already treated me way better than ninety percent of the dates I’ve been on, man. Don’t worry about…about being careful when asking for my number.” He rests in his palm again, his posture growing tired, slumping into the table. “I was gonna give it to you anyway.”

“Ninety percent? Who the hell do I need to fight?”

“People who are…unimportant and too full of themselves? I don’t know, Eds, it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably just…I don’t know,” Steve murmurs. He shrugs half-heartedly again. “I’m gonna go home after this and go to bed, wake up with a raging headache, and probably wish that you were still sitting across from me. Feel like you’d know how to make it better.”

Eddie hums. “Well,”—he positions himself better, sitting up in his seat and folding his hands on the table—“tonight, I’m gonna make sure you ring in the New Year happier than you are right now. And then, when you get home, you’ll text me that you did. I’ll tell you to have a goodnight’s sleep. In the morning, when you wake up, I’ll text you again, ask if you want some coffee. Maybe, if you’re comfortable, I could bring it over to your place and we could have a simple breakfast?”

“You’d do that?”

“If you want me to.”

Steve goes silent, noticeably contemplative. His eyes adrift to the table. In the mean time, Eddie orders their food and passes over the drinks when they arrive. He nudges Steve to take his pills and points out something that Anderson Cooper’s doing on the television.

But he doesn’t bring up tomorrow morning, not right now at least.

Because maybe he’s overstepping this. He’s putting himself in a position Steve doesn’t want him in. Only thirty minutes ago, they were complete strangers in a bathroom bar, groaning and grumbling at each other for being so defensive and combative. Maybe Steve’s got a friend waiting for him back home? Waiting to let him back inside and take care of him in the secret way only true friends know how.

They aren’t anything more than mere acquaintances. No matter how many half-lidded flirty glances Steve passes his way. No matter how many times Eddie’s eyes wander to Steve’s mouth as he gobbles down his serving of onion rings, a wish ringing out in his head, words caught star-bound in his throat, admiring.

He’s allowed to admire.

Not allowed to have, though.

And maybe he won’t ever get there. This will be it. A late night dinner, wishing Happy New Years, jokes tossed across the table like clumsy frisbees taking flight, and an aching in his chest. Feelings blooming in his sternum so suddenly, so abrasively, they’re thorns staggered sharp into his lungs.

He breathes, his chest seizes, and the whiff of Steve’s stale cologne burrows inside him. He blinks, his eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and Steve’s strong shining summer smile brands to the deep crevices of Eddie’s brain. He laughs, their giggles blend, and the process starts all over again.

Is this what sunflowers feel like? Soaking up the sun, all that they can, and then begin the brittle early death of wilting into oneself? They have to wait so long to be born again.

Eddie doesn’t want this to be a one time thing, dead in the middle of winter, dead before it could be alive.

Steve will have his number, though. He’ll have a weakened headache in the morning now that he’s had some caffeine and begun processing a couple Advil. From there, though, the future is possible, but unseen. He’s not sure if he’s even something Steve could be looking for.

Wishful thinking, he tells himself, hopeful wishing.

“Dude, try this!”

He blinks back to himself, presented with a chicken tender thrusted into his face. It’s dripping in ranch, so Steve’s hand is cupped underneath it, trying to save the table. Eddie gapes, looking to Steve’s face.

The chicken tender is pushed into his space harder. “These are the best tenders I’ve ever had in my fucking life, and I need you to support me on this. Try it.”

At Steve’s request, he gingerly takes a bite. For some odd reason, he finds himself holding their intent and intense eye contact, unwavering. It’s just a chicken tender, nothing to write home about. Not like it tastes any different than the ones he can pick up from the Dairy Queen by his apartment, but if Steve’s saying it’s the best one he’s had…

“That’s pretty fuckin’ bomb, Stevie,” he says. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the complete truth. But it does earn him bright eyes and warm cheeks, a side by side dance in the booth across from him, and a pleased little grin. So…maybe these chicken tenders are the best, especially if they get a pretty boy like Steve to look at him like that.

“Told you,” Steve says around his next bite—half of a chicken tender and two folded onion rings. “You ever dip ‘em in gravy, though? That would blow away your socks, blow up your mind, and suck your dick.”

“You, uh, you really don’t fuck around when it comes to chicken tenders, do you?”

“I don’t fuck around with anything. I’m a set-in-stone kind of guy.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Eddie involuntarily choke on air, his eyes drifting away, flush high on his cheeks. He takes a few, quiet bites of his cheeseburger. It’s mediocre and spilling with grease, the bun is stale and the ketchup is weirdly cold, but he savors it. At least it isn’t another basket of tortilla chips and jarred salsa from the bar—he’d probably rip out his own stomach if he had to eat any more of those.

Steve tries to offer him another chicken tender, but Eddie pushes it back gently towards him. Tries not to coo over the soft, sad pout that the gesture earns him. “It’s your food,” he says, “I wanna make sure you eat it, sweetheart. You need it more than me.”

“But I wanna share it with you.”

“Stevie,” he murmurs, “I’ve already got my”—

He’s offered the chicken again. With a very forceful, “Take a bite. You worked for hours, I can tell from how tired you seem, and I want to share this with you.” And then—the bastard—adds a puppy-eyed pout to say, “Please? It would help me feel better.”

Eddie sighs dramatically, leaning forward and taking another bite. He raises his eyebrows, gazing at Steve as he rescinds his food offering. “Happy now?”

Steve nods, smiling as he does so. “Very.” He pops a fry in his mouth and crunches down on it, his grin as big as the Cheshire Cat’s. And then, his focus goes back on his basket of food, none the wiser to Eddie’s openly affectionate adoration.

He forces himself to look away, to stop getting caught up on the Steve of it all, this night. Probably one of the best New Years Eves he’s ever had. Eddie takes a deep breath, though, and looks to the television.

Forty seconds to midnight.

How’d their night drive by so damn fast?

“You gonna count down with me?” Eddie asks, interrupting the lull of silence that filled between them.

“Mm, among one other thing, yeah.”

“What other”—

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve quickly adds, dropping his food into his basket, “how much time do we have?”

“Fifteen seconds.”

He watches Steve wipe his fingers on a nearby napkin, counting aloud with “Fourteen.”

And as the numbers go down, Steve pushes himself closer over the table. Eddie can only match with him.

Ten.

This close, Steve no longer smells like his cologne. Just barbecue sauce and onion rings, the grease from chicken tenders, and a lighter thing that he can’t quite place. Something happy, whatever it is.

Eight.

“Anyone ever tell you that you have nice eyes, Stevie?”

“Don’t think anybody’s really taken notice.”

“Well…”—Eddie breathes gently—“you have really nice eyes.”

Five.

Steve slides his hand across the table, gripping for Eddie’s left. Their fingers tangle, pretzeled together. Warm, even there. His smile is warmer, though, and Eddie begins melting at the sight of it. He wonders if Steve is thinking the same thing.

Three.

“Two,” Eddie breathes.

He squeezes their hands. “One,” Steve sighs. And with it, he surges the last few inches over the table, pulling Eddie towards him, planting a delicate kiss on his lips. It doesn’t carry longer than a couple seconds, but it lingers. Lingers like the decadent, sweet scent of apple pie. They’ll have to get slices before parting.

The diner fills with cheers, whoops and hollers. There’s a burst of multi-colored light outside, painting the left side of Steve’s face with pinks and blues and yellows. Maybe it’s all so cliche. Maybe Eddie tripped and fell, went into some head trauma-induced coma where he can only dream of a picture perfect world waiting for him.

But Steve squeezes his hand again, fingernails pinching into his soft skin.

Eddie knows he’s awake.

The haziness has cleared from Steve’s eyes, replaced with romantic determination. And Eddie knows he must be mirroring something like that, too.

“Happy New Years, Steve.”

“Happy New Years, Eddie,” he murmurs—the breath ghosts over Eddie’s lips, close enough to kiss them—“best night I’ve had in a really long while, thank you.”

He wants to kiss him again, so he does. Gentle and quick, sweetly though, and drenching.

If a night could last forever, he’d pick this one right here.

“My pleasure,” he says and means it to the core of his soul.

“Can I take you up on that coffee tomorrow? I have donuts back home, we could make a morning of it.”

Eddie swallows, sure that Steve hears him. His palm sweats and the thing inside him, stirring and rolling the whole night, is finally, finally alert. “Of course, sweetheart”—it fills him with giddy pride the way that nickname brings a flush to Steve’s cheeks—“what time?”

“I’ll call you when I’m ready. I wanna hear your morning voice.”

“You flatter me.”

Steve raises their joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of Eddie’s. His lips are sticky, somehow, but sweet. The next time they kiss, he hopes Steve tastes like pie. “Good,” Steve whispers, “you deserve to be flattered now.”

And maybe it wasn’t the most romantic start to their relationship…

But Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.

🎆—————🎆

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #modern au #hurt/comfort #mostly comfort #bartender eddie munson

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actuallyjustabiscuit · 3 days ago

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Kinger is Cursed With the Consequences of His Actions, and That's What's Making Him Crazy

Oh yes! The character we've all officially designated as Pomni’s new papa has got me reminiscing about another silly crackpot monarch who is actually an intelligent man in his late forties, an identity that has been buried so deep within the recesses of his altered mind that it can only emerge through special circumstances of which he has no control. But I know I'm not the only one who's made connections between him and Simon Petrikov from Adventure Time.

Btw did you know that they're also nearly the same age?

Yeah, this comparison has already been made by plenty of people. But if I may, I'd like to point out one other similarity that I've noticed; the fact that both of these men tragically lost the love of their lives, yet even in their broken minds the love they felt for them is still remembered fondly.

But, what if Kinger was also indirectly responsible for losing Queenie?

So........what exactly causes someone to abstract?

Of course, this would be an important question considering it's baked into the premise of the show itself, but I find it to be particularly relevant when dissecting Kinger's character because if we only assume that abstraction occurs when a human loses their mind, then how is someone like him still hanging around the Circus?

He’s been trapped there the longest, how long exactly is yet to be confirmed, but it’s safe to say that all those years haven't been kind to him. In the pilot he’s characterized as extremely erratic and forgetful, getting easily startled because his spatial awareness and object permanence are practically nonexistent nor can he retain previously established information for very long. On top of that, he regularly spouts nonsense that seemingly has nothing to do with the current situation. Because of this, his general demeanor tends to range between ridiculous to downright frustrating to the other characters.

So it’s no wonder that his fellow humans have more or less dismissed him as just being insane.

But I think this is a completely reductive view of this poor man because Kinger’s got that “he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit” energy that I love about him.

I think this is one of the more adorable aspects of Kinger's character; he's always trying to help. He tries his absolute darndest.

And what makes me sad is that, with the way that he is, he has such little control over how much he can actually help the people he clearly cares a lot about.

In Mystery of Mildenhall Manor, it's revealed that Kinger's lucidity is apparently affected by his exposure to darkness. How this works exactly is a bit inconsistent as we've had scenes of him in complete darkness and still acting pretty goofy.

However, based on my observations, I believe the change is not instantaneous. Like, he doesn't immediately become the Kinger we see in the adventure with Pomni if he is suddenly enveloped in darkness. I think what primarily plays a part is the amount of time he spends in darker settings. The segments we get with Kinger and Pomni are significantly dimmer compared to the rest of the episode, and we even get hints of Kinger progressively becoming more logical before we get to the cellar.

I’ve also noticed a small pattern in which he prefaces these brief moments of clarity with “I think…”.

This could be completely unrelated, but I find it interesting that Kinger's big advice to Pomni on how to overcome something difficult is to try "not thinking about it". I may be reading too much into this specific bit of phrasing but I feel that it's worth noting if this really is the mentality he lives by, because this is the advice he gives her when he's in two totally different states of mind.

Anyway, it turns out that when this silly man finally gets a good grasp on himself again, he’s actually extremely competent. Kinger shooting down the angel is a pretty obvious example of him being a BAMF, but I want to give these two moments a bit of focus.

I like the idea that Kinger has been in the Circus long enough to become so familiar with his weird digital body that he uses his detachable parts and disembodied hands to his advantage. It’s just a neat little detail because we get a taste of just how capable Kinger can be in this world if it wasn’t for his handicap.

And what really sucks is that the amount of time it takes for him to regain his sanity in the dark is really disproportionate to the amount of time it takes for him to lose it when back in bright environments.

Take the scene where Kinger is having a conversation with Ragatha in Candy Carrier Chaos with the bucket on his head for example, which definitely foreshadows this detail since it's the first time we hear him speaking more sensibly.

and then this happens

Notice how he taps the handle of the bucket? Like he's realizing that he does, in fact, have a bucket on his head that's obscuring his vision, before lifting it off of his face and going right back to responding in the way we've come to expect from Kinger.

It makes me wonder if Kinger has ever tried to tell the other's about this, but just couldn't. Ragatha clearly isn't aware of it despite having known him the longest out of any of the current residents of the Circus. And Kinger himself can't seem to pinpoint when exactly he shifts between sane and insane. Like a man who blacks out and feeling ashamed of his drunken actions when he sobers up again, despite having no control or awareness in the moment.

Describing Kinger's usual behavior when not in darkness as a "blackout" is pretty ironic, but I think it fits beautifully because it perfectly explains his short-term memory loss. Or I guess it would be more accurate to call it a "brownout". Either way, the point is that his memory becomes more obscured when he's in the light.

As for what initially caused this impairment, we still don't know.

I also don't want to get too clinical with Kinger's "symptoms" because I am in no way schooled enough to diagnose a fictional character who has only had a single episode focused on him.

But even just one episode proved to be very enlightening (...heh...see...see what I did there? Enlight-eh forget it) because after comforting a freshly traumatized Pomni, our girl interacts with Kinger at his most coherent long enough to learn some very crucial information.

It seems that the abstracted humans are not inherently dangerous, at least not when secluded in darkness, which Kinger was fortunate enough to witness with his own wife before they were separated (not legally, divorce doesn't exist in the Circus).

I've made this connection in another post I made, but yeah I really do think that it's the Circus' garish lights that make the abstracted so aggressive. I mean when you have that many eyes, that shit would aggravate the hell out of you.

But now comes the real question, and I'm tying it back to the one I made at the start, what made Queenie abstract in the first place?

How very convenient, Kinger. How did Jax put it, "gotta keep the mystery alive"?

Well, I'm playing detective here and I say you're the key suspect!

That's right! I'm accusing you! But unlike Baron Moldydick's crime, it twasn't homicide.

Yeah, everyone has picked up on how Mildenhall killing his wife acts as a parallel to what Kinger may or may not have done to Queenie. But I don't think it's as cut and dry as Kinger losing his mind and then somehow putting Queenie in direct danger as a result.

No, I like to think that it's definitely a bit more complicated than that.

It's not clear when exactly Kinger began losing his mind, but I certainly believe it had everything to do with losing Queenie. And it would actually be a pretty fun bit of character design if it does because in chess the King becomes most vulnerable when the Queen is taken off the board.

I know we all want to imagine that Queenie had existed alongside the other characters sometime before Pomni's arrival, but based on what we're given in canon, I'm starting to think that was highly unlikely. Because if everyone knew who Queenie was, then they would also deduce that Kinger wasn't always the way that he is now. I just don't get the impression from everyone else that they know about Kinger's dual state of mind. Otherwise, it'd be kind of awful that they wouldn't do more to help him if they were aware of this fact.

Kinger has always been crazy to them because all they know is that he's been in the Circus longer than anyone else. Which really goes to show how little they truly understand one another despite having only each other for company.

And it's not like they don't care enough (well, except maybe Jax) to want to understand and be there for each other, but it's almost like they are never given enough opportunities to really...bond.

And yeah, unfortunately, a lot of it has to do with each of these characters having their own hang-ups that keep them from doing just that. It's not just Caine constantly shoving them into his adventures to distract them.

Ragatha is dishonest with her feelings

Gangle is insecure when her mask breaks

Jax hates being vulnerable

and Zooble is never comfortable in their own skin (or at least their body's equivalent of skin)

I don't want to downplay it either, these are real issues that need consistent work. These people need help and the only one really capable of supplying that is a little broken himself.

This is why it's so fortunate that Pomni was with Kinger when he started speaking more sensibly. She has already displayed a remarkable level of emotional maturity with Gummigoo, but that's because Gummigoo was the one in need of reassurance at that moment. When exposed to problems far worse than your own, your problems in some way appear much more manageable in comparison. Pomni may be trapped, but Gummigoo doesn't even get the luxury of existing outside of what he was made for. That alone gave Pomni the confidence to live in spite of her circumstances and inspire someone else to do the same.

But it's hard to maintain that confidence when your new support system gets literally deleted right in front of you.

It's ok tho! Thanks to participating in Kaufmo's funeral, Pomni begins to open herself up to the others more, which allows her to have...some faith in her new friends. This is especially good when she gets to finally break down for a minute with Kinger because honestly, it's amazing she's held herself marginally together this whole time without crying at least once.

Pomni experiences her (so far) all-time low, and this segues to Kinger sharing his.

It's pretty terrible, losing someone. The previous episode pretty much forced that onto Pomni. How exactly do you completely move on from something like that? Well see that's the neat part, you don’t. In fact, Kinger even alludes to how you shouldn't. Even though the memory of losing Queenie is painful, it's what anchors him. He lost Queenie, but he still has everyone else, and he refuses to give up on them. So despite his mind constantly working against him, he does what he can to help his friends. In his own clumsy and confused way, he's there for them.

To me, abstracting isn't going insane. It's giving up. Giving up on yourself and giving up on others. It's easy to get to that point without the occasional necessary affirmation that you shouldn't give up.

This was the hardest lesson Kinger had to learn in the Circus. And he's doing his best to get the others to understand as well. But Kaufmo's recent abstraction proves how unsuccessful he's been.

Thankfully, Pomni takes it immediately to heart.

This is crucial, not just for Pomni's development, but for everyone else. Kinger even assures that it's more important for Pomni to remember than for him to not forget. That's why her name is more than just an ironic punchline, it's meant to represent her purpose in the story. As long as she remembers, hold on to the good, she'll get through it. Kinger is putting just as much faith in her practicing what he just preached as she is in letting him lead her through hell.

Oh no I've made more biblical allegories! The Pomni is Jesus theories are winning!!!

Ok but in all seriousness, we see just how much Kinger's words influenced Pomni's actions in Fast Food Masquerade. It's all but said that Gangle was close to abstracting towards the end of the adventure.

Yeah she’s about to turn into an eldritch horror, but c’mon we’ve all been there after a long shift.

Trying to talk things out didn't work, so Pomni then took a more practical approach to helping her.

Something as simple as allowing Gangle to get some rest and verbally reminding her that she doesn't have to handle things on her own. It's almost poetic how although Pomni can't leave the Circus, she's constantly telling others that they can leave and she's going to help them.

And Pomni doesn't save Gangle all on her own either. It was Kinger's insistence to have Zooble take his spot in the adventure that allowed them to witness Gangle's manic-depressive decline. They also had a practical way of showing support by offering to stay past their designated shift and relieve Gangle of the burden of transporting a drunk Ragatha.

Episode 3 really was all about acts of service, wasn't it.

If Zooble wasn't present for that adventure, they wouldn't have had the full context of why Gangle feels like she's not wanted.

Zooble saying "I still like talking to you" carries far more weight than if they had said, "I like talking to you". Especially when Gangle already feels insecure about how honest Ragatha is with her. Zooble got to see Gangle spiral and still accepts her. On top of that they are adamant about calling her their friend despite her doubts. That means something. Everything really.

This is what cherishing someone looks like.

I think Queenie abstracted because, at some point, Kinger began to neglect her. Perhaps he became so obsessed with finding a way out that he forgot what was most important. It's too early to really say if that's how it went down, but it'd be a poignant bullet point to the tragedy that is Kinger.

So I guess the real question is: How does one lose their wife?

Well in the wise words of Cody Martin

#I'm embarrassed with how long this took me to write #I can't believe how long this got #I realize this goes beyond just a Kinger analysis because I sprinkled in some more Pomni analysis as well #Pomni is very important #that's what happens when you're the main character #did I indirectly call Gangle Zooble’s wife #yes yes I did #Mix&Mask all the way #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc kinger #tadc pomni #character analysis #biscuit bakes #kinger #pomni #tadc queenie #queenie

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dramaticallytotal · 3 days ago

Text

The Rise of Team E-Scope Headcanons: Part Five

Idea Post Part One Last Part

Again, these headcanons will now go episode to episode, so this part will be for:

Super Happy Crazy Fun Time Japan!

• Like previously said, this is Team E-Scope's first elimination they are responsible for but one they don't admit to. Harold was annoying Noah a lot in their stop in Egypt. So before they got on the plane again and in view of the cameras and mic'd up, Izzy, Eva, and Noah made sure to talk about the cultural insensitivity of the show around Harold.

• They knew this would work because Harold is kind of known for eavesdropping on people's conversations to see if he can jump in and offer his extensive knowledge. He didn't jump into their conversation because he's scared of Eva.

• I don't think I've said it before, but Noah is autistic and is considered to have HFA (High-Functioning Autism).

• He can take criticism here and there, but one thing that absolutely triggers him is being corrected. Again, not because he's a genius or an ego but because he knows he's right, and it frustrates him when someone tries to argue with him despite him knowing he's right. This is something that will lead to him crying and having a meltdown if the argument continues despite him pointing out his proof.

• Since they aren't allowed cellphones or anything with the internet on it, Noah tried to convince Harold he was right, but Harold persisted many times, and it got to Noah a lot. So, he sought out those in his support network. I.e. Eva, Izzy, and Owen. He didn't have a meltdown, but it was close, and that was close enough for Eva to threaten Harold to leave Noah alone. She didn't bring up Noah's autism. She just used the excuse of Harold ruining their downtime, and if he wanted to argue with someone, then he should do it elsewhere.

• So when Noah voiced targeting Harold, Izzy and Eva were all for it.

• The Owen being sucked through a hole was a stunt they shot before taking off in the plane. It was done with a prop economy class that is hidden in the cargo hold usually, a super fan, and a device that suspended the prop economy class. The fear was real from the contestants because they didn't expect the super fan to be that powerful.

• Falling out of the plane was also a stunt. The kids were going to "accidentally" fall out the plane at a safe distance and land in the specialized spot, which was the fake rice. The fake rice was surrounded by landing mats and everything. But because of Harold, Chef opened the door before Chris said the code word to signal to the kids that the stunt was starting. So yeah, real fear there, too. Chef cutting the door with the sword, which was edited in later.

• Eva helps Izzy and Noah out of the rice, and the three of them pull Owen out.

• When Harold got excited about being in Japan and explained he knew everything about it, which made Leshawna irritated. On their break in Egypt, she had a lot of people who told you to keep a tighter leash on her boyfriend because he wasn't just annoying Noah. Eva was one of those people, and she made sure to stress the boyfriend bit because she knew the two were just friends, and Leshawna hated when people made assumptions about her.

• Leshawna likes Harold as a friend. They tried dating, but it just didn't work. She knows Harold still likes her, but she thought they were past this whole everyone thinking they're a couple. And with Alejandro flirting with her, she doesn't want him to think she's in a relationship and still flirting with him. That's not how Leshawna rolls.

• When Alejandro complimented her, Noah was the one who translated the compliment for Leshawna. It was done more absentmindedly than anything, which impressed Alejandro.

• Justin complimented Noah heavily for his "big brain," and Noah threw a handful of fake rice at the model. Izzy thought that was hilarious so she started throwing rice at everyone.

• For the human pinball challenge, the only reason Noah lied about being allergic to panda dander was because he didn't want anyone to see how close he was to the animals on the show. And Ting Ting, Mei, and Su loved Noah as much as he loved them. He named them for goodness sake! (Okay, his twin nieces, Opal and Odette, named them when he brought them to bring your kids to work day, and since he was mad at Chris, he brought all 9 of his nieces and nephews and 3 of his cousins.)

• Human pinball players and their pandas:

Alejandro and Ting Ting

DJ and Mei

Eva and Su

There will be no Cody and Sierra. Eva volunteered right away while Courtney, Gwen, and Heather fought.

• Alejandro doesn't know why he asked if Noah thought his idea for their commercial was good, but the way the smaller boy just said "Meh" with a small smirk, amused him.

• The commercials are all mostly the same, except Justin decided to rip off his shirt in their commercial, which made no sense, but Trent played background music for them which was nice. Sadie was the one to take over the line, "the hunger!" Eva, Katie, Cody, and Sierra took over, making their commercial. Well, mainly Eva, Katie, and Cody. Eva hogtied Sierra with some of the lights because she was getting really creepy with Cody.

• Alejandro was so confident that they would win that Noah tried to tell him not to get his hopes up, so when they lost, Noah couldn't help but say I told you so. But his dumb bi ass just had to do it by getting really close to Alejandro.

• Noah pulled out his 15-in-1 multi-tool hammer since it has a knife and had to use it to cut Owen out of the monster costume. Alejandro added the tool to his list of things Noah has in his utility belt. Yes. He made a list.

• Harold jumping from the plane was also a stunt. Chris called him a cab that took him to the local airport so he could fly back to aftermath.

• They slept in the plane for their stay in Tokyo, but the teams did get to explore a bit. It's as they were going out to eat the first night that Noah noticed Alejandro flirting with Bridgette. Team E-Scope had discussed it and had been content to sit back and see him play the game before they started actually acting. But messing with one of Noah's friends was a no.

• It was on their last night of their stay that Noah asked Bridgette if she could read his cards when she brought out her tarot cards, and she happily accepted. They placed themselves away from everyone else, and that was the moment he told her that Alejandro was flirting with her and it looked like she wasn't against it.

"I know you like to keep people happy, Bridg, but I just don't want you to make a mistake because of your big heart and because you miss Geoff."

• When they're back on the plane, Noah pulls Izzy and Eva into the confessional and tell them about the Bridgette situation. He knows Eva doesn't really like Bridgette, but he also knows Eva has his back and knows how he feels when someone messes with a relationship. He has had so many sisters and cousins that have had relationships mess up because someone decided to screw with them.

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