#ec starter

[voidendron]

...It would appear I have more NPC clones than I thought I did.

oops.

the Exarchs are MINE, bioware, mine I say

[writermuses]

[depression-napping]

Hi ❤️ I’ve uploaded FFVII Ever Crisis - Vincent’s Weapon Comparisons in English and Japanese 🔫

I’m almost done translating his weapon info from the original game, from FFVII Ultimania Omega (pgs 330-331).

I think only 3 of his original weapons have made it into the FFVII EC so far, namely:

- Quicksilver (obligatory starter weapon)

- 銀玉鉄砲/Silver Rifle (“Joke weapon” from Temple of the Ancients)

- Randall/Shortbarrel (Found out some fun trivia about this one!)

Enjoy!

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

His reactiveness

Reactive and intense are not synonyms.

I guess you may wanna check this first for context, but you don't necessarily have to.

A lot of folks think of Carmy as non-reactive because he's too intense, and he is intense, sure, very, but in a reactive manner, the fire-starter is always someone else.

He's even soooo reactive as opposed to proactive, that sometimes he's even submissive. And he's OK with it, or too used to it, he feels somewhat comfortable taking that sub role, whether it is with Donna so she gets off his back, or with Michael, with EMP's EC, or with Claire, etc, he becomes a pushover or a bomb💣, no balance. But that's always as a reaction, it's not proactive, he reacts to stimuli in those 2 different ways as a default. He sometimes opposes it with all his might, in a very Carmy way, and becomes defensive, even aggressive:

or he succumbs to it, which on the outside can even look like he's cooperating with it, but he's not, he's reacting in a submissive way, to avoid the alternative, which he deems "more inconvenient" at the time (defense mechanism), so he rather takes the submissive role in those cases.

This, in his particular case, leads to bottled-up aggression and pain that come out in the most destructive and unhealthy ways, such as panic attacks, sleepwalking, workaholism, chain-smoking, anger fits in other situations that don't necessarily call for that, which he overreacts to, etc.

All of this is a result of his upbringing and the fact that his caretaker and father figure were addicts, ofc. I have already mentioned that a long time ago, but in his case, it always bears repeating because it is the cause of his C-PTSD, which is basically what frames all of the aforementioned behaviors and dysfunctional habits. (I lightly touched this subject in one of my fics too). Not that he doesn't have other co-diagnoses that are part of his overall psychological makeup and also have an impact on his life, granted, but C-PTSD is by far the most comprehensive.

If you have time to read his monologue, I strongly suggest you do, JAW's acting is UNBELIEVABLE but reading it and re-reading it gives it a whole new dimension. Storer is my spirit animal. He wrote an ode to PTSD and in Carmy's case, it's the C subtype because it was not triggered by just one event, but by repetitive trauma. Here it is:

My point is: Of course, he needs to address all of that, but even if he did, since the reactiveness is deeply rooted in him now, it's part of his very own personality, not just an acquired habit, he won't be able to change that, he will have to learn to cope and work with it, so it doesn't limit him anymore. We can all get treatment or change, but no one changes personalities. Ever.

He will have to learn to deal with it in healthier and more adaptative ways. There are multiple ways to do that and go about it, therapy is just one of them, but not the only one. The great news is that it can definitely be done if there's a will, but it's important to point out that it will not disappear, as that reactiveness is in his nature at this point. Because it started in his formative years, very early childhood, etc. It will be expressed differently, he will have more control over it, and it may shift its form to a point where he could even use it as one of his strengths, but it will never magically or clinically go away. Full stop. It's important to have realistic expectations to avoid unnecessary frustration and to be happier with a result that even exceeds our expectations if it eventually comes to it. Like I wish it did for Carmy, by the end of the series.

Now, let's call it what it is: He will never be the "proactive Carmy", functional hero, fully together male-lead that some envision he becomes for Syd and because of her.

That's not in his nature.

Realistically speaking, not to mention Storer-friendly speaking, he can improve, sure! And he will and I'm positive about that, as I mentioned here and here, she will have a crucial role in that evolution because Sydney is the plot twist, he is the plot. But Carmy will not become someone else.

He is and will always be Carmen Anthony Berzatto, The Bear, with all the light and shadow aspects that entails.

And quite frankly, I love that, chefs because we are all a work in progress, just like him.

❤️‍🔥

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[pollenallergie]

18+ only!!

do not interact if you’re under 18 years old!

I personally disagree with the headcanon that Eddie can’t cook. In fact, I think that man passed Home Ec. with flying colors in high school. Most of the Hellfire guys took shop class because they thought it was more manly or badass or whatever the fuck, but not Eddie. Eddie needed to learn to sew because Wayne sucked at it and the old lady two lots over was getting real sick of him asking her to use her frail, arthritic fingers to sew yet another goddamn patch on his vest or his backpack or whatever else he wanted to decorate with the logos of his favorite metal bands. Glenda was a sweet lady, of course, and she loved Eddie like he was her own grandson, but even her kindness had its limits. So, he took Home Ec. Plus, he kind of underestimated it and thought it would be like way easier than shop class.

Turns out it was actually insanely more difficult because while Jeff and Gareth got to spend forty-five minutes a day working on bird houses and toolboxes, Eddie had to learn how to operate a sewing machine, create a household budget, change a dirty diaper, and, oh yeah, make like three different kinds of sauce from fucking scratch. Labor intensity aside, Eddie oddly thrived in that class. I mean, he took to the sewing machine like a champ and he made a mean roux for mac and cheese. Not to mention, Miss Bowman absolutely adored him.

That was her first year teaching at Hawkins High, having just graduated college, so she was already plenty nervous. However, it got much, much worse when the, at the time, 16-year-old metalhead, who smelled like a well-used ashtray, sauntered into her class fifteen minutes late and very clearly stoned out of his mind. Imagine her surprise when that same kid expressed a genuine interest in learning how to keep track of household purchases and sharpen a kitchen knife. Unbeknownst to her, his fascination stemmed from the fact that 1) being able to keep track of financial transactions would be super beneficial for him as a rookie pot dealer and 2) the kid liked sharp, shiny things. So, in her blissful ignorance, Miss Bowman actually kind of developed a soft spot for the misfit, much like a little kid might for a scrappy alleycat.

Not to mention, due to him genuinely wanting to learn how to do some of this shit, Eddie rarely showed up to class late or less-than-sober after that first day. He even began to enjoy that class a little bit; the teacher was nice, she didn’t hate him (which was rare), and most of the kids in the class were pretty accepting of him once they realized that he was pulling a stable A-. In fact, the future head-cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, even directly asked him for help with her sourdough starter once; which he thought was pretty cool (and also terrifying).

A couple years down the line, his impeccable home-making skills would come in handy when he finally managed to snag the person of his dreams, you. In fact, your first date with Eddie involved him making an elaborate feast of spaghetti in doused in a delightful, homemade bolognese sauce with a side of homemade garlic bread (Eddie made the bread from scratch and everything) and some wine (that he definitely did not steal from a liquor store two towns over because Eddie would never do that), lighting some candles, turning on some soft music (one of Wayne’s old country records; the only one that Eddie figured wasn’t too twangy), and setting tiny kitchen table like it was a fancy table-for-two at some pricey restaurant in the city. It was perfect and, honestly more than you’d ever expected. When he asked you out, you expected a simple movie date or maybe going to watch some band who was not nearly as good as Corroded Coffin play at local bar together, not an amazing home-cooked meal and a night alone with a shaggy-haired, doe eyed aidoneus. It’s safe to say that the pasta wasn’t the only thing that got saucy that night, if you catch my drift. Eddie gave you a taste of his other homemade sauce, if you know what I mean.

So yeah, Eddie Munson can cook. The man is a fucking wiz in the kitchen.

[liacobain]

”i mean i definitely get that hayes brings a vet presence i just need becky to really work on her lineups and figure out who fits in with who. because whenever kate was the first one off the bench subbing in for AC, they all played soooo well together. i just need her to figure out her sweet spots ig”

that’s what I’m saying. The players expecting KM, and they get Hayes. Having Hayes, KP and JY is not a good mix because they’re all going to try and score first instead of looking to A’ja first. Those 3 together on the court or 2-3 of them on the court look off open players so many times it’s annoying AF. A good combo was: AW, KP, AC, KS, KM or AW, KP, JY, KM, AC. Please tell me why the bench today the last few mins had better ball movement than the starters? (EC, KM, SC) were moving the ball well together. And my theory has been proven right that when Kate is open and she asks for the ball, she will make that shot.

BRO IK. when becky put the bench in they played kinda better than the team had been playing all game. the ball movement was there and they got their shots. i was sitting there like where was this when we needed it 😭

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 13 - You Give Good Love

IN THIS CHAPTER: Vinegar fumes, an old photograph, and Eddie attempts to hang the moon [9.5k]

WARNINGS: angst, self-esteem issues, mentions of financial hardships, mentions of dead parents, small mention of period-typical homophobia (late 1960s)

A/N: i want to once again shout out my three fairy godmothers, my kindest merryweather (@duquesademiel), my loveliest flora (@justahappycloud) and my sweetest fauna (@gutterratt) for vibechecking dot and eddie's first big misunderstanding. also thank you for teaching me about 80s metal, you were right, dio's the last in line was absolutely perfect for this chapter. i keep thanking you three, and yet it is never enough. can't wait to hug the shit out of you in a month. <3

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

I found out what I've been missing Always on the run I've been looking for someone

Thursday, May 8th - 1986

Eddie Munson had the nagging feeling that something was wrong with Dottie Burke. He didn’t know what it was, but he was 100% sure that something was wrong.

For starters, she was being terribly secretive about that textbook she’d borrowed from the library the day before, going so far as waiting until he got up to go pee to return it without him getting so much as a glimpse of the cover. Then it was the fact that her bag looked particularly full and she wouldn’t let him carry it for her, quickly stashing it under her legs as soon as she climbed into his van. She kept her locker closed whenever he was around, and even changed seats to be far away from him during lunch, engaging with Jeff in a conversation about flowers, their heads down and eyes glued to the book they had open between them on the table. But what was perhaps bothering him the most, was the knowledge that the damn mystery card was still hidden within her backpack, tucked between her Home Ec notebook and her Chemistry textbook, taunting him with a peek of its pink envelope when Dottie rummaged through one of her pockets for an extra pen to lend to him during their shared English Lit class.

He couldn’t pinpoint if it was simply him being weird due to the recent discovery of his jealous tendencies or if she really was keeping secrets from him, but something had to give. He was getting increasingly paranoid over every little interaction they had and he wasn’t enjoying his current descent to madness at all. Eddie was planning on asking her if everything was okay between them as soon as they arrived at their destination, but when he pulled into the trailer park, he saw his Uncle gesturing at him to roll his window down, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Don’t get out, boy!” Wayne shouted, jogging to the driver’s side of the van. “Need you to run an errand for me in town.”

“Can it wait?” Eddie asked, turning around in his seat to see Dottie gathering her things. “We were gonna-”

“I need you to take this to Terry,” he slid him a big manila envelope with Terrence McKee’s name scribbled on the front.

“Aren’t you gonna see him tomorrow during your meeting?” he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what the hell did the old man need him to deliver to his Union buddy so urgently on a Thursday.

“Yes but he needs this today, don’t ask stupid questions, son,” Wayne said with an air of finality. “You know where he lives?”

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffed, disbelief tainting his next words. “It’s literally all the way across Hawkins.”

“You better get going then,” he patted the side of the van like one would pat a horse to get him to move.

“Do you mind if I wait for you here?” Dottie asked, hopping off the van before Eddie could answer. “I really need to pee.”

“Go on, I’ll keep her company until you get back,” Wayne said, dismissing his nephew with another wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about her.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Eddie told Dottie, uncomfortable with leaving her at his trailer while he wasn’t there.

“Take your time!” she smiled at him. “Drive safe, ‘kay?”

He nodded once before peeling back into the main road and speeding away. Standing side by side while they watched the van get smaller, Dottie and Wayne could feel the tension leaving their bodies now that Eddie was gone. The older man let out a low chuckle, like he couldn’t believe they’d gotten away with their improvised ruse.

“What was inside the envelope?” Dottie asked, noticing mischief twinkling in Wayne’s blue eyes.

“Half of today’s newspaper,” he grinned, and she was instantly reminded of Eddie’s face when he pulled off something wacky during Hellfire. “Called Terry earlier today, got him to play along. Hopefully he’ll keep Eddie busy for a while.”

“You’re so evil, Mr. Wayne,” she said, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”

“No problem, kid. Come on in, let’s get started before he comes back.”

Dottie stood with her hands on her hips in the middle of Eddie’s room, watching the pure black stain on the ceiling get more and more faded with each passing minute. The furniture was covered in trash bags to prevent it from accidentally getting damaged with the one-part-water one-part-vinegar mixture that Uncle Johnny had instructed her to concoct; the bucket holding the liquid was safely perched on a step of the small ladder Wayne had pulled out for her from an overflowing storage closet in the hallway. While she had been busy soaking the affected surface with a sponge, the eldest Munson had taken it upon himself to give all the carpets in the trailer a much needed refresh with an old vacuum that hadn’t been used in a while. If the loud sucking noises had been of any indication, there had been way more crumbs and dust accumulated in the living room than he’d hoped to find, and the less was said about Eddie’s bedroom floor, the better.

After half an hour had passed without any sign of her friend’s return, Dottie climbed the stepladder once more to begin cleaning up the mold with her trusty sponge and pink rubber gloves. She was pleased to find that just one swipe was good enough to remove almost all the gunk, but Uncle Johnny had mentioned at least two applications were probably needed to get rid of it completely. She was so absorbed into her work that she failed to notice a very familiar van parking outside next to Wayne’s truck; upon entering the quiet trailer, Eddie was confused as to why all the windows were wide open. Noticing that Wayne had fallen asleep on his armchair with their old vacuum at his feet, he tiptoed down the hallway towards his bedroom and pushed the door open, only to find his newest friend standing at the top of the little ladder his Uncle had gotten for him when he first came to live at the trailer park so he could reach the kitchen cabinets on his own.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he said, standing under the frame in shock.

“I’m cleaning!” she smiled at him like it was no big deal.

It was a big deal. It was a huge deal, actually, because Dottie cleaning up his own home embarrassed him to the bone. Suddenly, Eddie was back in middle school and the people he desperately wanted to be friends with were calling him dirty and trash and smelly, and the walls were closing in on him, and there was an acid smell in the air that reminded him too much of when Wayne tried to get rid of his lice by soaking his scalp with vinegar, which in turn reminded him too much of the acrid odor that was embedded into every corner of the house he had once shared with his Dad. Dottie’s usually gentle smile was now taunting him, and when he noticed that she was keeping her hair away from her face with one of his bandanas, deep seated shame bubbled up to the surface, bursting to get out of his system with no regards as to who it would run over in its path.

“Get out,” he gritted out, voice dripping with venom.

“W-what?”

“Get the fuck out!”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Is this fun to you?!” he yelled, eyes hard on her figure still standing at the top of the ladder. “You think you can just come into my home and touch all my shit and I’m supposed to be okay with it?!”

“Eddie-”

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m helping-”

“I didn’t ask you for help!” he heard heavy footsteps coming up from behind him but he couldn’t stop the poison coming out of his throat. “What, was it interesting to see what it’s like to be a broke piece of shit? Did you get tired of hanging out in a shitty trailer? Or did you just want to add me to your list of good deeds? Poor Eddie, I saved him!”

“Edward!” Wayne’s voice cut his tirade short. The older man looked tired with the kind of fatigue only years of hardship could give you. “She just wanted to help you out! I gave her permission to do it, so stop yellin’ at her!”

“You… you knew about this?” he looked at his Uncle, betrayal twisting his stomach. “What the fuck, Wayne!”

“Ed-”

“No! Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Stay out of this!” Eddie kicked his door shut and threw all his weight on it, leaving Wayne knocking on the wood outside before turning to Dottie again. “You turned my fucking Uncle on me?”

“I didn’t- I just asked him if I could clean up the mold stain-”

“Do you think I need you to clean up after me like you’re my goddamn mother? Because I don’t! I don’t need you! I was doing fine before I met you!”

“I just wanted to help-”

“I’m not a child, Dot, you don’t have to treat me like… Like I’m some charity case you have to have pity for!”

A wet sponge flew across the room and hit Eddie square in the chest, right in the middle of his favorite Iron Maiden shirt he’d gotten out of a thrift store bin a few years back. The yellow projectile flopped to the floor where it hit the carpet with a squelch; Eddie looked up to Dottie to find her face had turned red, her jaw clenched in barely contained rage. She threw a fucking sponge at me, he realized, wary of what else could she’d throw his way. Her bucket was perfectly within her reach.

“Are you done?” she raised her voice, louder than he’d ever heard her.

“I-”

“I asked, are you done yelling at me?!” her hands turned into rubbery fists, eyes narrowing to look down at him from her vantage point. He didn’t dare reply. “I asked your Uncle for permission to clean the mold stain because that’s what’s causing your allergies. You’re getting sick from it and it could be dangerous!”

“How do you-”

“Do you really think it’s the first time I’ve seen mold in my entire life? Give me a break, Eddie, how sheltered do you think I am?”

“If you had such noble intentions, why didn’t you ask me about it instead of going behind my back and asking Wayne, huh?”

“Because you don’t let people help you! No, no, no,” she lifted her gloved hand to cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth. “You don’t get to argue back. Gareth has to hide gas money in your glovebox so you don’t try to give it back to him! Donny acts like he wants your peanuts so you eat the extra lunch he brings for you without complaining!”

“I don’t want your pity!”

“It’s not fucking pity! We want to help you out because we love you!” Dottie threw her hands in the air with exasperation. She exhaled loudly, shoulders sagging, defeated. “Don’t you fucking accuse me of seeing you as a goddamn charity case ever again, Eddie. If you can’t see by now that I think the absolute world of you, then I don’t know why we’re even friends anymore.”

There was a heavy silence in the room, and Eddie could feel his anger and humiliation turn to guilt. He stared at her with wet eyes, regretting every single word that had come out of his mouth since he’d returned from his strange errand. Dottie was breathing heavily, lips turned downwards, biting the inside of her cheek; he had seen that face before and instantly knew that she was trying her hardest not to cry. He felt like such an idiot. Of course that what he was feeling was completely justified but he had just accused her of essentially tricking him into a friendship only to mock him, like she hadn’t consistently shown him how kind and selfless she truly was.

Putting his pride aside, he launched himself across the room and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head into her chest and squeezing her tightly so she wouldn’t fall from the ladder she was still standing on.

“I’m sorry,” he said, clutching the back of the paint splattered shirt that had clearly once belonged to her Dad. She must have brought it from home to protect her clothes while she cleaned. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, pulling her gloves from her hands, letting them fall to the floor before dropping her arms around his shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You’re right, I should have asked you before I did it. That wasn’t cool of me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But I still shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said, holding him tighter. “I would never pity you, Eddie, you have to know this. I admire you so much, I could never think any less of you. You’re one of my best friends in the whole world.”

“You’re one of my best friends too,” he admitted, looking up at her, his chin resting on her stomach. “I just… People are always judging, you know? And I don’t want you to see me differently because I’m… struggling.”

“I’m not trying to fix your life, or do charity with you. I just want to help you out the same way you help me out, and that’s what friends do for each other, okay? If you won the lottery tomorrow and moved to a big ass mansion in Loch Nora, I’d still help you out.”

“Because you love me?” he risked a little joke, testing the rocky waters between them.

“Yes, dumbass. Because I love you,” she said, fingers tangling in his wild curls, and despite the fact that he was sure his heart had never raced faster in his life, the waves lapping at his feet had never felt calmer.

If Eddie was taking more alternative roads and going slower than usual while taking Dottie home, neither of them said anything about it. They had spent the rest of their day together cleaning Eddie’s room as a team, her on ceiling mold duty and him wiping down every dusty surface and shoving things into his drawers and closet to deal with them at a later date. When they were done, they threw themselves onto his bed so she could quiz him on Sociology, trying to get him ready for his last test of the year before finals week. Wayne did not attempt to talk to either of them for the remainder of the afternoon, but he had hugged Dottie goodbye with a smile on his face and subsequently given his nephew a stern look that warned him about the scolding he was gonna get when he came back from dropping her off. Eddie had no doubts that his Uncle had overheard the rest of their conversation through the door and heavily favored her side of the argument.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” he asked with a timid voice as he pulled into her street.

“You know I’m never gonna say no to tacos,” she said, turning in her seat to look at his profile. “Kinda been looking forward to it all week, actually.”

“Was really hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. “I’ve been looking forward to it too.”

“Taco Friday is still on then. They better be good or I’ll be so disappointed.”

“You won’t be, trust me. Best tacos you’ve ever had.”

“I’m counting on it. See you tomorrow, okay? Please go over your notes one more time before the test.”

“Will do, Captain,” he saluted, watching her jump off his van and walk backwards towards her front door.

“I mean it, Munson! I want to see you get at least a B or your ass is grass!”

“I’ll get you more than a B, princess, I promise!” he said, grinning when she rolled her eyes at him before scurrying inside.

He was in a fairly good mood again when he walked into the trailer, but instantly stiffened up when he saw his Uncle standing at the sink. He waited by the front door in silence for a few seconds before trying to disappear into his bedroom when Wayne put down the dish he was washing and turned around. His face gave away nothing as he motioned to the couch with his head. Oh, boy. Eddie sat down quietly and stared at the carpet. The eldest Munson crossed his arms and stood next to the coffee table, knee bumping Eddie’s to make him look up. He didn’t. The faint sounds of the trailer park settling down for the night were ringing in his ears.

“You two make up?” Wayne asked, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah. Sorry about the yelling.”

“S’alright. You know what she said to me? When she asked about the stain?” Eddie didn’t reply, so Wayne kept going. “That she’d rather have you angry at her than see you cough up blood.”

“I didn’t know it was toxic. I thought she was just… being judgy.”

“Now why do you think she was being judgy?” Eddie only shrugged and Wayne sighed, changing tactics. “You do things for her sometimes, don’t you, Ed?”

“I guess,” he could feel his ears start to get red.

“You drive her around, get her snacks. Made her that shirt for her birthday too, ain’t that right?”

“We’re friends,” he argued back, although he didn’t really know what he was getting agitated about.

“Do you judge her because she can’t drive herself?”

“What- no, of course not, I’m not an asshole!”

“Do you judge her when you buy things for her?”

“No!”

“Then what on Earth made you think she was gonna judge you, huh? That any of your friends judge you?”

“People like that always judge,” he grumbled.

“People like that?” Wayne repeated in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means,” Eddie finally looked at his uncle, exasperated. The older man lifted an eyebrow. “People that don’t live in a trailer park,” was what Eddie said. People that don’t have to decide what bill would hurt them less if it didn’t get paid on time. People that go thrift shopping for fun and not out of necessity. People that graduate on time, and go to college, and live in a suburb, was what Eddie implied.

“Y’know, for someone as perceptive as you, you can be really dumb sometimes,” he chuckled bitterly. “Open your damn eyes, boy. I know you ain’t blind. You’re not the only one who’s had a hard life ‘round here, so quit the self-pitying.”

Wayne could picture the cogs behind Eddie’s confused expression start to turn as he pondered on his words. A few seconds of silence passed between them before the eldest Munson fished his cigarettes from his shirt pocket and headed outside for a quick smoke. He turned around when he reached the door; Eddie was staring at him but his eyes were unfocused, mind miles away.

“Ed?” Wayne called, and his nephew’s head jerked violently, snapping out of his trance. “You be good to that girl, son. You don’t find people like that every day.”

Never in his almost twenty years of life had Eddie felt as productive as that day waiting for Wayne to leave for work. He’d vacuumed his bedroom carpet, put a new load of clothes in the washing machine, had dinner, washed the dishes, dried the dishes, and reorganized his tapes, all in an effort to keep moving, not stopping to think once. He was sitting at the kitchen table drowning himself in the dull black and soft gray of Jeff’s photocopied Sociology notes when his uncle finally laced up his boots, turned off the TV and headed out for the night, leaving him alone with the thoughts that could no longer be ignored.

He remembered the random five dollar bills he often found in his van: in the glovebox, between his tapes, tucked into the sun visor, laying on the dashboard. He’d always assumed he’d left them there while he was high or drunk after a gig; Gareth had never mentioned them and Eddie wasn’t a stranger to misplacing his own things so he’d never had any reasons to question his friend about it. He thought about befriending a freshman Donny when he was a junior, only a couple of months before he started selling weed and still couldn’t afford cafeteria lunches, bringing whatever little leftovers he could find in the fridge to keep his hunger at bay during the school day. He’d never given much thought to the fact that Donny kept asking him to trade a few peanuts or half his apple for a whole sandwich, not when his friend kept pulling excuse after excuse (“I hate this kind of cheese, please take it or I’m gonna throw it away”, “My sister made waffles for breakfast, I’m not that hungry”, “Dude, you know I love chocolate covered pretzels, come on, trade with me?”) and he was always happy to say yes. Donny hadn’t stopped doing it, only slowed down on the frequency once Eddie started selling and now had extra pocket money to spend on whatever he wanted.

Throat constricting, he looked down at the notes in front of him and saw Jeff’s handwriting spelling names and concepts he should be memorizing. Eddie hadn’t made the copies, Jeff had. He had gone to the library during one of his free periods and spent his time photocopying his own notes so he could give them to his long haired friend before their exam. Eddie wondered how many more things they had done for him throughout the years without getting so much as a thank you from him, and never once expecting anything in return. Never looked at him differently, never made fun of him, never questioned him. I’m a fucking idiot, he thought bitterly, before Wayne’s words rang in his ears. “You’re not the only one who’s had a hard life”, he had said.

Eddie twirled his pen in his hand, noticing it wasn’t his. It was Dottie’s fluffy pen, blue ink with a pink pompom that he loved tickling his own chin with. She was very protective of her things, never hesitating to lend them out to her friends but always having a sort of nervous anxiety until they were back in her hands. Dottie, who always waited to see what everyone else was picking at the diner before placing her own order. Dottie, who loved apple Kool-Aid and didn’t like sodas unless it was a special occasion, who knew how to bake and cook with whatever was in the fridge, who never threw away pencils until they were so small she couldn’t grab them anymore.

“Ah, fuck,” he said out loud, the weight of the words he’d carelessly thrown around at her rooting him to his chair.

Dottie who cut the toothpaste tube in half to get everything out. Dottie who always said “it’s thrifted!” or “I made it!” whenever someone complimented her on a piece of clothing that she was clearly proud of. Dottie who hated doing math but could calculate the price of things that were on sale quicker than she could read her own dice during a D&D session. Dottie, Dottie, Dottie. Eddie let his head hit the table, forehead sticking to a piece of paper. How had he missed all the signs? He’d accused her of looking down on him and all this time he’d never once stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, she knew exactly what he was going through. He’d been so concerned trying to hide all the things he feared she could judge him upon, and instead had been judging her all along.

He had to fix this. He had to show her that he was sorry for what he’d said, that he wouldn’t judge her anymore. That all this time he’d been wrong, and she’d been right, and that he was a Grade A Idiot who had gotten lost in his own head a little bit too much. Staring at an old camping lamp he’d found under his bed while he was cleaning, Eddie decided that to make things better he would simply have to hang the moon for Dottie.

Friday, May 9th - 1986

“Hey, Chris?” Eddie said, staring at the trees above him. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Is it illegal?” Chrissy replied, following the dancing leaves with her eyes.

“Absolutely.”

It was a sunny Friday, the kind of day that just made you itch to be outside, which was exactly what Eddie and Chrissy were doing after school while they waited for their extracurriculars to start. They were hanging out in their secret spot in the woods, lying on the seats of what they had claimed as their picnic table, looking up at the mostly clear sky while passing a joint back and forth under the wooden surface that separated them. Chrissy had been complaining about how someone on the Prom Planning Committee hadn’t booked the DJ they’d wanted on time and now the guy wasn’t available anymore; she had been scrambling all week trying to find a decent replacement or else everyone in their senior class was going to have to get down to someone’s cousin’s shitty mixtapes. As their shared blunt got smaller and smaller, she was thankful that she not only had a new vice to indulge in when things got overwhelming, but also had Eddie, who always listened and reacted accordingly to her frustrated rants.

“What do you need?”

“Can you sell me a couple of prom tickets? I really don’t wanna ask Kemper about them, she’s such a bitch,” he groaned.

“What did Luce do to you?” she turned to look at him, confused.

Lucy Kemper was a meek looking redhead that knew she was going to be an accountant since she was 12, and because of that, she’d appointed herself as the Committee’s treasurer as soon as she reached senior year. She said she didn’t trust anyone else handling money, so she’d taken it upon herself to be the only one selling tickets for both the junior and senior proms. Other senior students had, in turn, started calling her The Ticket Peddler - it remained to be seen whether it was an affectionate nickname or not.

“Well, for starters, Luce is the one that started that rumor about me stealing underwear from the girls’ locker room.”

“What? They literally caught Tommy Hagan breaking into a locker, Billy Hargrove dared him to do it as their last senior year prank, it was so gross. Why did she say it was you? Everyone knew it was him, it was all everyone talked about for two weeks.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Eddie said sarcastically, the smoke he had been holding in his mouth getting lost into the breeze. “That’s why she had to drop it, but that didn’t stop Higgins from interrogating me twice about it before your coach caught Hagan red handed.”

“I hated that guy, he was such a little creep. And I didn’t like how he treated Carol at all.”

“Carol Perkins was a bigger asshole than her dumbass boyfriend ever was,” he declared, offering the burning joint to Chrissy with a lifted eyebrow.

“Not to me! She was always really nice. She let me borrow a tampon once,” Chrissy said, taking a drag.

“Ew.”

“Periods are completely normal, Eddie.”

“I had to take Health class twice, I’m not scared of periods. I said “ew” because you borrowed a tampon from the Witch Queen herself. You know, I’m surprised she didn’t ask you to give it back, guess she wasn’t in the mood for a blood ritual that day.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Chrissy giggled, making him crack up too. “I’m sorry about Lucy, though. She shouldn’t have done that.”

The more time Chrissy spent with Eddie, the more she wondered how many people around her had been horrible to others right under her nose without her noticing it. She knew that Jason could be mean to the metalhead sometimes, but she figured it was just a guy thing; Eddie stood on tables and badmouthed Jason, and Jason did it right back to him, and so on and so forth. Her boyfriend wasn’t a bully, was he? They both gave as good as they got, neither shied away from conflict when it concerned each other, right? It bothered her to know that maybe she’d misunderstood the situation all along. How many times had she walked past someone being mistreated and not looked their way twice?

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge and all that,” Eddie waved his hand like it wasn’t a big deal. It was to Chrissy. “So, can you sell me two tickets today and hold three until next week? I’ll round up the money and pay you for those on Monday.”

“Sure! Why two today though?” she asked curiously, putting out the roach on the underside of the table and letting it fall to the grass before it began burning her fingers.

“I have another study date tonight.”

“Oh my god, are you promposing?” she suddenly sat upright, eyes twinkling with excitement. “I thought you said you were all going together as a group! What are you gonna wear? Are you taking Dottie to dinner before too? You have to get her a corsage, I can help you pick a nice one if-”

“Jesus Christ, slow down,” he said, clumsily lifting himself up from the bench until he was also sitting down across from her. “I’m not promposing, we’re still going with the guys as a group. I just… kinda fucked up yesterday and wanted to do something nice for her. Make things right, y’know?”

“Define “fucked up” for me, please.”

“I, uh, I got angry and said some things I didn’t mean. There’s nothing to worry about though, we talked it out and we’re fine. We’re going out for tacos tonight.”

“Another date that isn’t a date, huh? I’ll have the tickets ready for you after Hellfire on one condition,” she teased him. “I want first row seats at the wedding.”

“Sweetheart, if we get married, I promise you I’m picking you as my Maid of Honor slash Best Woman slash whatever that shit's called.”

“Deal,” Chrissy stuck out her hand for him to shake on it and he grinned brightly.

It occurred to her right at that second with his hand on hers, that once they left high school, this regular hangout she enjoyed so much was no longer going to happen. Their picnic table wasn’t gonna be theirs anymore, left abandoned for other misbehaving kids to take ownership upon once the new school year started. No more smoking together, no more listening to each other's cassettes, no more lying on the benches and pointing out funny cloud shapes until their faces were red with mirth. And now Eddie was talking about his future like she had a place in it, and Chrissy wondered if her future had enough space for Eddie too.

"Eddie? What's gonna happen after graduation?" she asked, tracing a happy face with crosses for eyes that was carved into the wood with her index finger.

"Dunno, I'll probably try to get a job during summer. Weren't you going to Asscrack, Ohio early for the preseason?"

"Yeah, but that’s not until August. And stop calling it Asscrack, Ohio! OSU is literally in Columbus!”

“You could have gone anywhere and still chose Ohio. What kind of demented person chooses to live in Ohio?”

“They’ve won the UCA Nationals three years in a row, I want to win too,” she shrugged. “But that's not what I asked, I meant it more like- I don't know, like, what's after graduation for us, y'know?"

"Oh," he looked at her carefully, trying to gauge her thoughts by her anxious expression. "Well, what do you want to happen?"

"I don't want us to stop being friends," she said, getting straight to the point. "I like hanging out with you, I like that I can be myself when you're around."

"I like hanging out with you too, really, I do, but I think your Mom might ground you until you're 30 if she ever sees us together," Eddie warned her.

"She doesn't have to know. We can… we can hang out in secret until I leave for college. And you can come visit sometime! You and Dottie and the guys. I’d love to see everyone again."

"You wanna be friends with the freaks?" he asked, disbelieving.

"You were the one who said I was a freak too!"

Eddie really wanted to believe her, he really did. He wanted to call Chrissy to tell her the news whenever something good happened to him, wanted her to come to The Hideout and watch Corroded Coffin perform before college inevitably made it impossible, wanted to pay her back for her support and advice by being there for her during hard times. He wanted her and Dot to become friends like he knew they could be, for them to have girl nights where he'd pick them up from a bar all rosy cheeked and giggly, singing Pat Benatar until they fell asleep in his backseat.

He wanted all of that, because he actually really fucking loved being friends with Chrissy Cunningham, Queen of Hawkins High and Head Cheerleader, but also because it would mean that they had never been so different after all. That high school cliques and hierarchy didn't mean shit once you were out of that dreadful place. That people could change, and come to understand each other and that maybe Hawkins wasn't the shithole town he desperately wanted to leave behind.

Eddie really wanted to believe Chrissy, but he didn't. Not entirely. Not yet. However, given recent events, he decided there was no harm in giving her the benefit of the doubt if she was so willing to extend it to him too.

“How about we start with you signing my yearbook and see where that leads us?” he offered.

“Only if you sign mine too.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled at her, and Chrissy had the feeling he wasn’t lying at all about her being his Maid of Honor-Best Woman-Whatever It Was Called whenever he got married.

And luckily for him, she was serious about accepting the offer too.

“Did you pick one?”

Eddie climbed back into his van with a bag full of Mexican food to find Dottie going through all his tapes, the cases balanced precariously on her thighs. The parking lot was quiet, but soon it would start filling up with misbehaving teens looking for a bit of fun on a Friday night. Hot Sam was another survivor from the Starcourt Mall fire; they had relocated to Mulberry St. in Downtown Hawkins after collecting a big fat cheque from their insurance company and had managed to infuse a little bit of nightlife into an otherwise deserted area. The owners were just grateful that the still-in-construction Taco Bell at the mall, in order to not associate themselves with a tragedy, decided to leave the town altogether instead of moving somewhere else, leaving the Hawkins Taco Kingdom to be disputed between themselves and the owners of Olé Amigo!, who quite frankly didn’t know what a poblano was even if it hit them right in the face. Dottie huffed loudly as Eddie turned on the van and began backtracking out of the parking lot, right hand behind her headrest.

“Why are all your tapes in the wrong cases?” she complained, snapping Mercyful Fate’s Melissa shut.

“Gareth thinks switching them out is the peak of comedy.”

“He’s such a gremlin,” she said, putting another tape in its rightful case.

“Which one are you looking for?” he asked, glancing at her hand shaking Dio’s The Last in Line’s empty case. Wordlessly, he ejected the cassette that was in his van’s deck and lifted an eyebrow. “It’s ready to go.”

“How did you-,” she interrupted herself and chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief while pushing it back in and pressing play.

He shrugged, heat blooming in his chest as the first notes of We Rock rattled his windows. It had been a coincidence, he’d been listening to it as he drove to school that morning, but there was a part of him that always got giddy whenever she willingly chose to partake in his interests. He knew she always carried around a couple of her fave tapes, and there were enough mixes with non-metal songs in his glove box, so the fact that she’d picked one of his favorite albums was nothing to scoff at. She didn’t always like everything he showed her, but she still tried to understand it because it was important to him, and that meant more to him than she’d ever know.

When they missed the turn that took them to the entrance of the trailer park, Dottie eyed him suspiciously, his face carefully schooled to look very nonchalant. His fingers were tapping the final beats to Breathless on the steering wheel when he pulled into a road flanked by trees on both sides.

“Eddie? Where are we going?” she asked, looking out of her window.

“It’s a surprise.”

“You know I don’t like surprises,” she said, hands starting to sweat and the skin on her neck prickling.

“I promise you it’s nothing weird,” Eddie said, lowering the radio to a low rumble and letting his right hand fall to her left knee. He squeezed it comfortingly, but it only made her more nervous. “There’s a place I like to go for a smoke at by the lake, I just thought you’d like to see it. We can go back home if you don’t like it but it’s not scary, I swear.”

“We’re going to Lover’s Lake?”

“No funny business,” he insisted. “It’s just a really pretty place to hang out. And we can leave as soon as you want.”

“Okay. Sounds nice,” Dottie said, heart racing as she placed her palm on top of his hand and squeezed back.

Eddie didn’t remove his hand from her knee until he had to change gears to get onto a dirt road, thumb rubbing in circles over the bone underneath her jeans. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the possibility of something happening between them or nothing happening at all. The anticipation was eating up her insides as he parked the van in reverse under a thick tree like he had done it a million times and killed the engine, cutting One Night in the City off. A gentle breeze ruffled the grass and leaves around them, dull silence threatening to swallow them whole.

“Stay here for a second, okay?” Eddie said, patting her knee a final time. “Don’t turn around, I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”

“Okay,” she answered, but her voice was swallowed by the loud slam of the driver’s door being closed.

She heard him walk all the way around the van, open the back doors and get inside. He shuffled around for a few seconds before he hopped off and hurried to her side, opening her door and unclicking her seatbelt.

“Close your eyes for me, yeah? I’ll guide you,” he said, nervous energy bouncing off his tongue.

“Eddie, you’re scaring me,” she admitted, voice weak, feeling his hand remove her backpack from her shoulder and the bag of food from her tight grasp.

“Trust me, you’re gonna love this,” he took both of her hands in his and started walking her to the rear of the van and closer to the shore. “Just follow me, follow my voice.”

“Please don’t push me into the water,” she said, memories swirling in her mind. Jeannie locking her into a dark closet at a birthday party while they played Hide and Seek. Howie “accidentally” shoving her into a muddy puddle during a rainy field trip. Eddie’s fingers gripped hers tightly.

“I would never, darling. Just a few more steps, I’ve got you.”

When they reached their destination only a couple of feet away from the van, Eddie let his hands roam from hers up her arms all the way to her shoulders where he gently applied pressure to let her know he was still there. He stood directly behind her, leaning forward a little bit to match her height.

“You can look now,” he muttered over her right shoulder, equal parts nervous and excited.

Eddie’s secret Lover’s Lake spot was a little natural clearing right across the lake houses that belonged to the privileged few in Hawkins. Most of them didn’t live there; their everyday addresses were located mostly in Loch Nora, but they used these particular houses as a weekend getaway sort of space, a secluded oasis in a shitty little town the rest of the country had forgotten about. Eddie found a certain charm in sitting in the back of his van staring at the twinkling lights of those giant residences, watching them throw their entitled rich people parties from a safe distance where they couldn’t see him intruding on their privacy. He’d get high and observe them come and go, the voices belonging to drunkards only rarely carrying across the water, wondering what would he do if he ever had a house like that.

The water licked the dirt edge with barely audible waves, crickets chirping in the distance, birds settling into their nests for the night. Dottie watched and watched, the moon reflecting on the unperturbed surface of the lake, the boy behind her sitting with his legs dangling from the back of his van, one of his cigarettes perfuming the air between them. It was peaceful; she could understand why he’d come here to clear his head, be alone with his thoughts.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered, not wanting to break the bubble that had formed around them.

“Told you to trust me,” he said, the side of his mouth lifting in a smile as she turned around to look at him.

If the lake at night had seemed beautiful, what was in front of her was downright mesmerizing. Eddie sat a little to the side, feet swinging back and forth in the air, his weight resting on his right arm while he held his half smoked cig with his left hand. Behind him, he had set up an upturned plastic crate covered in blue gingham cloth as a table, various cushions and blankets were strewn around on the hard wooden floor, and a small camping lamp rested on top of an amp that belonged to Jeff. The soft yellow light illuminated him from the back, his wild hair looked like a halo, his figure surrounded by his broken, frizzy curls. He had set her backpack to a side with his and the bag of food waited for them unopened on top of the crate.

“This is for you,” Eddie reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin envelope.

Dottie stared at it for a second before opening it, then at Eddie, and then back at the papers in her hand. Two prom tickets. One for her, one for him, she assumed. Is this a joke? It would be cruel if it was, and she knew him to not be cruel. Maybe to others, to bullies, but not to her. Trust me, he had said. The photo hidden inside her bag was screaming, begging to be released. She swallowed the knot in her throat and looked at him with wet eyes.

“W-what is this?”

“I was an asshole to you yesterday. A complete and total asshole and you had every right to throw your dirty sponge at me, and I’m sorry.”

“You were upset.”

“Yeah, I was, but… I guess I’m just so used to people judging me that I thought if I did it first, it would hurt less. And it totally doesn’t work like that,” he chuckled, flicking ash onto the grass. “I want to make it up to you. You’ve been so nice to me all this time and I’ve just been a fucking idiot.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I have, but it’s okay. I’m not planning on being one anymore. Not with you at least,” he threw his cig to the side and extended his hand to her. Dottie accepted it instantly and let him pull her closer. “I know we said we were all gonna go together to prom, and that’s still the plan, nothing has to change. But I didn’t want you to have to buy your own ticket.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“No,” Eddie held her hands in his. “It’s a thank you. For cleaning my room, for taking care of me when I get sick, shit, for helping me graduate. I’ll deny it if anyone asks because as Club Leader I can’t exactly pick favorites, but you’re at the top of my list, darling.”

“Really? Top of the list?” she whispered theatrically, thumb playing with his.

“There’s you, a small gap, then Erica because she scares me, a big gap, the rest of Hellfire, another gap, and Mike.”

“Why is Mike at the bottom?”

“Have you seen his hair recently? He’s trying to steal my look. Can’t have that, they’ll think I’ve gone soft.”

“You are soft,” she said, pointedly.

“I’m Satan’s lost son, princess, haven’t you heard? I’m corrupting children with my dice and cool dragon stories,” he grinned, thoroughly enjoying how easy it was to slip into banter with her.

Dottie looked at their entwined hands with a heavy heart. Here he was, opening up to her, accepting his faults and wanting to change, and she felt like such a hypocrite. All Eddie did was wear his heart on his sleeve. He was open, and honest, and even when he was scared and lashing out there was still a heavy dose of truth embedded into everything he said. He wasn’t a child who needed coddling, he didn’t want anyone’s pity because his life was rougher than others’. He just wanted to be Eddie, wanted people to look at him like that’s all he was: not a failure, not trailer trash, not a sob story. Just Eddie. And Dottie didn’t want to be Just Dottie.

Everything about Dorothy Burke had been kept under several padlocks from the moment she could talk, and every time something important happened, a new one would get added to the chest. There was a key for each padlock, but she guarded them fiercely, only lending them out to her Dad or one of her Aunts and Uncles, immediately asking for them back as soon as they had peeked at her secrets inside. There were systems in place to not have to talk about things. There were schedules, and lists, and routines. If everything looked right from the outside, then everything was right, so Dorothy Burke didn’t get into trouble, didn’t get bad grades, didn’t fool around with classmates who could look into her a little bit too deeply. Everything about her was so tightly wound and the screams coming from inside her backpack were so loud. Something. Had. To give.

“Eddie?” she mumbled. The sound of her own blood rushing in her ears was daunting. “There’s something you should know about me.”

“Okay,” was all he said, keeping his hold on one of her hands while she reached for her bag with the other one.

She put the prom tickets on the floor of the van next to Eddie’s thigh and opened the big zipper. He could see the pink envelope that had been tormenting him for a few days between two notebooks, but Dottie pulled out a piece of glossy paper instead. She pushed the bag aside like it had offended her, and offered the retrieved item to him. For a brief second, Eddie didn’t know what he was supposed to be getting from it. The man in the photo didn’t look like anyone he’d ever seen before, and the place where it was taken was a complete mystery to him. Only when he noticed a baby hanging onto the side of a white tub, yellow pacifier in her mouth and wild curls sticking out did it occur to him that this was a piece of Dottie’s past.

“That’s you,” he said, not really asking for confirmation.

“Yeah. And that’s my Uncle Johnny.”

“Wow. You were tiny.”

There was no date on the back of the photo and Eddie hadn’t been around too many babies to accurately guess her age, but he could tell that her Uncle looked very young. He was wearing an old dark red t-shirt with bleach stains and yellow rubber gloves, posing to the camera with a big grin and a sponge in his hand. He was cleaning something behind a white square thing; the full object wasn’t visible in the photo but if he had to guess, it was probably an appliance of some sorts. A washer or a dryer maybe?

“After my Mom died, we couldn’t afford rent on our own,” Dottie began, eyes stuck to the picture in Eddie’s hand. “My grandparents helped us for a few months but it just wasn’t sustainable in the long run. We had a lot of debts, my Dad was still paying his student loans, and there were so many medical bills, it was just… too much for one person to handle,” Eddie didn’t interrupt her, but tugged her a little bit closer so their knees were touching. “So when my Dad began looking into apartments closer to where he worked to save on gas, Johnny told my Dad that we should all move in together. His lease was up and I loved it when he babysat me, so it seemed like a good idea, y’know?”

“How old were you?”

“Around 11 months? I had just found out that if I grabbed onto things, I could stand up all on my own.”

“I can see that,” he lifted the picture. “Look at those chubby thighs.”

“Still got them,” she laughed. “My Grandma says I’ve got chicken legs.”

“Shit, princess, you can't say that and now show me those weird ass toes now,” he grinned.

“I said chicken legs, not chicken feet. Big thighs, small ankles,” she pushed him away jokingly and he pulled her even closer, his thumb rubbing back and forth on top of her hand.

“So you guys moved into this place?” Eddie looked at the photo again.

“Mm-hmm. No one wanted to rent an apartment to two 23-year-old guys with a baby, they thought it was weird. Like, what were they doing with a kid, y’know? They asked for my birth certificate once, it was such bullshit.”

“They accused your Dad of stealing you?”

“Yeah. It was just one time, and the guy was super weird, but still. I think… Well, I know a lot of landlords thought they were gay. And honestly who gives a shit if they were? Gay people need houses too! It’s not like they live in a magical land far far away. And especially in fucking New York City, like, Broadway is right there.”

“Yeah, no,” Eddie scoffed, his heartbeat rising a little bit. “Total bullshit. Fuck Reagan.”

“Fuck Reagan,” she repeated, and they both knew what they were talking about but it wasn’t the right place or time to discuss it. “That’s how Johnny became Uncle Johnny, actually. There was this apartment that was super cheap, great location, near a daycare, and the owners were this old couple, very traditional, so Johnny lied to them so they'd let us rent it. Said my Dad and him were brothers from different fathers, and had this whole speech about how family always helps family during hard times.”

“Go Uncle Johnny.”

“Honestly, he’s awesome. This is from the weekend we moved in,” Dottie pointed at the photo. “There was this old washing machine in the bathroom, the owners said we could throw it away ‘cause it was broken but when we moved it, the entire wall was covered in black mold. Like, you couldn’t even see the wall behind it, it was gross. My Uncle cleaned it up all on his own and repainted the wall so I wouldn’t get sick. That’s why I knew your mold stain was dangerous.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she ground her sneaker into the grass. “I… It hurt when you said that I was treating you like a charity case because it wasn’t easy for us either while I was growing up, you know? We lived in that apartment for four years. There were only two bedrooms, and I shared a bed with my Dad until we moved on our own and my Uncle Rob built me a princess bed for my fifth birthday.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I- I didn’t know-”

“I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel bad. I’m telling you because I want you to know that I understand more than you think I do.”

“I know. I know you do, I’m just stupid,” he smiled up at her. “I do this thing sometimes where I convince myself that no one else in the world knows what it’s like to be me and Wayne has to remind me that I’m not as unique as I like to think I am. Not your fault, darling.”

“God, you sound like Ms. Kelly,” she giggled. “I think I’m… too emotionally constipated for my own good? I should probably work on that.”

“Is that not what we’re doing right now?” he set the photo to the side and finally let her hand go, only to pull her between his open legs for a hug. “Opening up and shit?”

“Yeah,” she let herself sink into his embrace. “Feels nice. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Thank you for sharing your story with me.”

They stayed like that for a few more minutes - just hugging each other, backs a little bit less loaded and hearts a little bit heavier. Before Dottie pulled away to put the photo and the prom tickets into her bag for safekeeping, she stopped for a second to kiss Eddie’s crown. It wasn’t a sexy kiss, or even a romantic one; she grabbed his head with both hands and cartoonishly said “mwah” loudly when she pressed her lips to his hair, but it was still charming enough to make him melt. He glanced at her hands and saw the damned pink envelope peeking out while she tucked away her things. Something was still left to give.

“Can I be nosy for a second?” Eddie said, lifting himself from his seat on the edge of his van to help her get in.

“Sure.”

“What’s that pink thing in your bag?”

“Pink thing?” she sat in front of him at their makeshift table and began unwrapping their forgotten tacos.

“Yeah, you were talking about it with Jeff the other day when we were at Gareth’s,” he said, acting nonchalant.

“Pink thing… Oh, you mean this?” she retrieved the envelope from her bag with one hand while she grabbed a plastic cup with her other hand. “It’s a Mother’s Day card! I always get one for my Mom and write her a little note.”

“That’s… that’s really sweet, princess,” Eddie said, suddenly feeling so very dumb. “You celebrate?”

“Yeah! Just like doing something special, y’know? I feel like she deserves it.”

“I get that. Wayne and I get breakfast at a diner and take flowers to my Grandma. ‘S nice,” he gave his taco a big bite. “D’you still wanna get together on Sunday? We can postpone if you have other plans.”

“Actually,” Dottie looked down at her food. They really were great tacos. “D’you wanna come over and celebrate together? I always bake a cake and do a little bonfire thing… It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” he shook his head. “I’ll come.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, you are kinda bribing me with cake so…,” he said, downplaying the fact that the tips of his ears were red.

“You’re the worst,” she laughed and he beamed at her, a little bit of guac smudged on the corner of his mouth.

Maybe Dottie could trust Eddie with a key. Maybe she could give him his own to keep, so she couldn’t chicken out and ask for it back as soon as the morning sun made her rethink her choices. Maybe, with time, she could be comfortable enough to give him all her keys. But for now, eating the best tacos she’d ever had in her life with the boy who felt like getting into a warm bed after a long day, this first key was enough. It was only fair to give it to him; he’d given her a key to one of his padlocks too, after all.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology

[bunji-enthusiast]

To Know About Sonic.Purgatory

I am glad this is already being received well, despite my initial lack of online presence. But here is some stuff about my AU, this is only a starter, I may revise alot of the information.

Hint hint: You can interact with storyline, HEHEHEHEH

The EXE

ECE is his name (till i find something better).

He is a lonely, deplorable dude. ECE hopes someone picks up his game to play it, in which he has the ability to pull their soul into the game. He doesn’t even wait for them to finish it, ECE is impatient. Even sometimes when he feels like it, ECE will mirror the appearance of the person playing said game, he does it to freak the hell outta them.

ECE found out about the world of Sonic purely by chance.

He doesn’t view the animals – or flickies – in Sonic’s world as actual living breathing beings, only putting that subjective idea into ‘Mobians’. Hence having no guilt for killing them, however he is apprehensive when it comes to the souls, to the characters themselves. Though, when your soul had been pulled into his game, ECE had heavily favored you and took a great liking to you.

ECE likes to chase the survivors, running into Green Ring after Green Ring. He finds it fun. 

The Survivors ( or Victims )

You were new and fresh, joining after ECE had taken over the whole of the world. You just wanted to go home and go to sleep. You eventually learn more later down the line. In a way, you as the player are the only one capable of things the other survivors/victims aren’t.

Tails is inevitably already a Souls Guardian, he has the smarts and somewhat decent speed but he didn’t have the strength to outdo ECE. He is young and was not trained for combat, only working from behind the scenes and lending a hand in most situations when he can. 

Knuckles is alive, though he took it upon himself to protect anyone that is alive and well that he comes across. He is distressed enough as it is about this situation, he managed to fight off ECE for now, but Knuckles is incredibly riled up enough – he’s riddled with paranoia. Though he manages to stay calm more often than not.

Eggman has the corpse of Tails’ in a stasis chamber, for now the body is alive at most; he is trying to find a way to bring back Tails. Though the Doctor has not been face to face with ECE just yet, he prefers to stay at a distance, he partook in a temporary truce with Knuckles (though the echidna was skeptical at first because of how Ivo had manipulated him before). Eggman is putting his time into gathering information, as much as he hates doing so. 

STOP:

Souls Guardian, what are they? They are victims of ECE, though he cannot control the more strong willed victims. Weak-minded ones become puppets, no free will whatsoever. The ones who have a stronger will can resist against it, the game is beginning to recognize ECE is not part of it. So it offers the strong-willed victims pathways to help those alive to get away, and to temporarily risk guardianship against ECE (much to his disdain). 

The world is technically more or less alive, in only something that doesn’t belong that disturbs its forever sleep. 

ECE had gone rogue against his makers and had injured them majorly, as originally he was organically designed to be something made to help the good of people. He used to be real before he had gone digital, finding it fun to interact with digital spaces.

From the moment ECE had entered Sonic’s world, the space had reacted badly. So he had manipulated the reality, fabricated it to his liking.

[bakedbakermom]

Okay so my Pink Abomination FAILED (RIP my beautiful pink baby, you were too ambitious for this world) so I'm trying mead! Using approximately 39oz of local blackberry honey + 6oz of fresh blackberries (mostly for color, this amount won't do much for flavor, but I reserve the right to add more in the next stage). Yeast is Lalvin EC-1118 with 1gram of Fermaid K to make for healthier yeast.

Once again I am giving my yeast a head start by using some of my must as a starter, along with a dollop of sugar that in hindsight was probably not necessary but whatever. This is last night after it had been fermenting for about 4 hours. It smells AMAZING, bready and fruity and sour all at once. I wish you could smell it!

Must is currently off-gassing after the addition of Camden tablets (which kill off anything that would compete with the wine yeast) and will be ready to pitch the yeast this afternoon.

Again I am thinking I will make it sparkly in the end with the addition of champagne yeast, because the only wine I've ever liked has been sparkling, so we shall see in like a year.

[laying-in-star-dust]

It's a shame that there's not something out there like tone indicators but for starting and ending conversation. (As of my knowledge)

Because as an autistic person I personally find it very hard to let others know when I want them to continue the conversation over text. Along with the fact that some days conversations with me can take alot of energy out of me and make it mentally and/or physically exhausting. A conversation ender would make ending the conversation easier because I can use less words to end it.

So I'm coining/creating conversation enders and starters.

/yic : you initiate conversation

/yic is to be used to let someone know that they are to take over initiating the conversation. This one is to be used in 1-1 conversations as it would be kinda confusing in a group chat.

/sic : someone initiate conversation

/sic is one of two conversation starters that can be used in groupchats. It is to be used to let someone else know to initiate conversation.

/ic : initiate conversation

/ic is the second of the two conversation starters that can to be used in groupchats. Though it can also be used in 1-1 conversations. It is to be used to let someone else know to initiate conversation.

/ec : end conversation

/ec is used to let someone know that you are ending the conversation. (Because sometimes it's hard to figure out if someone is done talking to you over text for the time being because conversations over text don't always end with goodbyes/goodnights.)

Tagging people for reach! Let me know if you want removed.

@spiritchannel @revenant-coining @gender-mailman @engagekiss @catprotag @catgirlprotag @kenochoric

[pokemunparty]

New Student says Alola! (Closed Starter)

A new student had arrived to Naranja Academy. Even in the school uniform, she was very flashy with her island tan and dyed purple hair. Her bag was covered in pins and was a very flashy pink. She was so friendly to everyone. Everyone was already on good terms on the first day! It was a class later in the day that Nemona would see this new student. It was Home Ec. They were pairing up to learn how to prepare a simple chili.

New girl didn't have a partner yet!

@themxtleycrew

[dewprisms]

we're really on that part where people insist you need to vote 3rd party in a country where EC makes that impossible to change anything huh

not only do yall not know a fucking thing about US history (look up the race on how Wilson got elected, for starters), but its clear none of you learned a goddamn thing from 20 16 holy shit

[aspens-orchard]

//starter for @dxmesticbliss\\

"Hi, you're the baking instructor right??? Could you pleaseeee teach me how to bake?? I'll do anything! My best friend's birthday is coming up and I want to make them something special!!"

Despite his height, or lack thereof, he was pretty loud. It was probably the headphones. He seemed to have come out of nowhere while you were just existing in public, he's too old to be a student so how did he recognize you as the home ec teacher?? Nevertheless, his eyes were sad and pleading like a dog's, a face that was hard to say no to.

[hunt4tlow]

WAIT you mentioned that you stanned Willow before ASIAS, when DID you start stanning her?? for me, I've always loved her, but i started stanning her when I saw her lifting weights and bossing Amity around in FATCDP😭

“stanning” lol I’ve just always thought she was neat. Ironically it was during the great willow drought of season 2a that made me really see the potential in her character that had gone mostly overlooked

for starters there’s her dads! Even though they never really get never really proper focus in an episode (despite the blight parents getting several… ugh.) they managed to grab my interest in that single interaction they DID have with willow. I especially find it interesting how Harvey is willing to drop everything for willows education, and when we later learn he was an abominations student at a notoriously competitive school, it adds a whole new layer of context for why he was so adamant that willow stay in that track despite her obvious struggles. He probably started off much the same way as willow, and had to work his way to the top, and genuinely believes that this is what is best for willows future, even if it pains him to watch his daughter cry after once again failing to construct an abomination for homework. I would have LOVED to see an episode in season 1 or even season 2 examining how this affected their bond, think about it: a younger willow who knows that her dads only want what’s best for her, and they support her no matter how badly she’s doing, but she knows deep down that she’s not like her papa, abominations aren’t for her and they never will be, but she ALSO knows how important perseverance is to him. This is what I really want to write about at some point so I guess I should save all this for then LOL

S2a is also when I started shipping huntlow hehehe!!! Bc ohhhhhhh my god the half a witch parallels??? How they both understand what it’s like to be perceived as weak, as someone they’re not???? Ohhhhh man like you just KNOW they would understand each other so much from that shared experience alone. Like on top of all their other shared interests, like hunter having at least a chunk of knowledge about plant properties and willow working out much like hunter probably does regularly in the EC it would make so much sense if they became close friends and potentially something more than that. Then asias happened and 😄😄😄😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

ASIAS IS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT‼️‼️‼️ idk if I would call it my fav episode anymore since it has some issues but ough it’s definitely my biggest comfort episode aka the one I rewatch the most. Willow finally gets to show off her phenomenal leadership skills as flyer derby captain!!! Now that she’s dropped abominations, flyer derby feels very much like a new way to connect with her dads and it’s so sweet :’) ohhhhhhh and her team??? The entrails??? Beloveds???? I would die for them. And the episode reminds us that willow still has those insecurities despite everything, she’s still healing from the bullying, being “half a witch”, like her flyer derby opponent is her former teacher holyyyy shit. And while I do think they could have cut a little of hunters role in the episode since willow definitely needs the screentime more, I love how well his presence complements her. To him, willow isn’t any of the things she sees herself as in her lowest moments, she’s the captain. She’s fearless and brave and ready to throw hands with a coven head to protect her team. He sees her the way she wants to be seen and it’s so lovely

AND WILLOW BEING SILLY IN TTT IS SO IMPORTANT so many people forget that she’s not the overprotective mum friend or whatever the fuck she’s 15 and she loves poking strangers in the butt with plastic pitchforks and saying “mwahaha!!” and doing fingerguns at the nerd who is so so clearly in love with her!! She can be a strong responsible leader and still be a goofball some of u are just cowards ok. And she loves photography??? The contrast between inner willow burning away her memories of amity because “out of sight, out of mind” to present willow treasuring her time together with her family and friends, capturing the memories in a scrapbook while they all try to get home??? Cries forever. I can talk more if you want. I am normal about fictional characters ok 🙂

[assassincraft]

                         ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 「   @nulltune​ liked for a starter !!   」

❝ where... did i learn to make this ?? ❞ the smaller piped up at the other's question, holding the fresh batch of honey toast he whipped together for the two. two scoops of vanilla ice cream on top, three sticks of coconut chocolate pocky, coconut shavings, and a little chocolate square pressed into one of the ice cream scoops. a small smile slowly plastered over his face, gently lifting at the corner of his lips as he thought of his past teacher. koro-sensei loved honey toast for sure... he can remember him eating it to this day and how he melted at the taste of it.

❝ last year, i learned how to cook because of my home ec class, and my teacher really liked it... so i learned how to make it. ❞ he also learned how to make takoyaki, soup from scratch, how to counteract sours, salts, fats, and tang... he taught them a lot.

[companionwolf]

ALL OF U. FAVORITE POKEMON. GO >:3

For the sake of everyone only the folks near front/who want to are answering because otherwise it'd be a lot. Though not every single system member is even active -- a very good portion are deep inside and dormant rn.

Anyway.

Mine is Eevee. - Wolf

JOLTEON!!! N any starter (: - NB

Porygon is cool.. - Tri

Either that sword one or Leafeon. Really, all Grass types are cool. - GN

Umbreon ! - CW

I don't know... some kinda cat Pokémon. Maybe Skitty? - J2

Not sure. I don't ever think about Pokémon. - K

A Hondour? I also do not think about Pokémon. - !

Flareon...? - ☆

Manetric. Grass types are nice too. - ♡

Pikachu!!!!! - PA

I like Ghost and Dark types... - LA

Swadaloon. - EC

Aaaand that's everyone who answered.