#fuzz local

[ardeportal]

Brant Bjork: el desierto en la ciudad

El baterista fundador de Kyuss sacudió Montevideo en una nueva edición de Fuzz Local

Por Ginny Lupin Fotos Gino Bomba

Hay un indicativo infalible de la calidad de un show que no se encuentra arriba del escenario; se nota ya desde la entrada y se incrementa con los resagados que se van acumulando, cerveza en mano, al fondo de Plaza Mateo: si en el público abundan los músicos, el show va a estar increíble. Y el domingo pasado, en una nueva edición del festival Fuzz Local, estaban todos.

La tarde arrancó con bastante puntualidad y una afluencia de gente considerable; eso que era domingo, Nacional y Defensor jugaban a unas cuadras y el clima estaba inestable. Pero la jornada prometía distorsión de la mano de grandes exponentes locales y las verdaderas leyendas del desierto. No había justificativo para pegarse el faltazo.

Contramarea pateó el tablero con un set corto y al hueso. Banda insignia del festival, abrieron esta tercera edición de Fuzz Local para homenajear la distorsión, sacando provecho del fuzz único de los pedales Inspira como en cada escenario que pisan.

En medio de nuevas composiciones, los Contramarea desplegaron toda su energía, haciendo sacudir las cabezas con el diferencial de un sonido único y arrollador.

Tempestad

Flor Sakeo está en "su prime". Acompañada de músicos de nivel, la reina del fuzz montevideano se prendió fuego sobre el escenario de Plaza Mateo.

Riffs seductores y envolventes lucieron la distorsión en su faceta más psicodélica, en sintonía con la estética de pantalones metalizados y pelo sacudido a todo volúmen.

En primera fila, un chico de pelo largo desafiaba la gravedad contorsionando la cabeza al ritmo de la música. En simultáneo, un grupete hacía señas para captar la atención de Mario Lalli, "el padrino del desierto" y ahora bajista de Brant Bjork, quien accedió a la foto mientras seguía atento el espectáculo de la uruguaya.

"Canción para los planetas" y la nueva, "Casualidad" fueron cantadas a todo pulmón por su público, fiel asistente en cada partido de Sakeo.

La performance sobre el escenario justificó y recompensó esa fidelidad con un despliegue de nivel. Efusivos, Flor y su banda demostraron el entusiasmo por la primera fecha del año con una complicidad que excede lo musical y nos permite un vistazo de la dinámica del grupo. Guiños, risas y genuino disfrute sobre el escenario se trasladaron a la audiencia.

La cúspide del set llegó demasiado pronto, con una cuerda rota que no detuvo el ritual del fuzz y la esperada liberación del pogo. "Abran un círculo", pidió Sakeo y el público obedeció, con una danza tan tentadora que Piotto tuvo que abandonar su posición detrás de las teclas para saltar a la pista y formar parte del ritual.

Si así empieza el año de Flor Sakeo, ¿qué nos esperará para los próximos meses?

Duelo de leyendas

Si el titular "Brant Bjork en Uruguar" ya era movilizante para todos aquellos que hicieron del stoner desértico un pilar fundamental de su trayectoria musical, bastó con confirmar quiénes lo acompañarían en la travesía sudamericana para perder por completo la cabeza.

En la batería, Ryan Gut aporta el groove metal que cultivó junto a Hammerface. Gran colaborador de Bjork, no sólo forma parte de su proyecto solista sino que también compartieron Stoner, la banda que volvió a reunir a Bjork y Oliveri luego de la separación de Kyuss. Pero es Mario Lalli desde el bajo quien se lleva todas las miradas y ovaciones.

Precursor del stoner rock, Lalli es una de las mayores influencias en la escena del desierto californiano. Sus bandas Across the River y Yawning Man, activas a inicios de los 80, sirvieron de detonante para toda una generación de artistas. Junto a Bjork, Lalli experimenta un abanico de sonidos recorridos a lo largo de su trayectoria, desde el stoner más puro hasta coqueteos con el soul y el blues perceptibles en las últimas producciones del trío.

Sobre el escenario, la fórmula fue infalible. La poderosa voz de Bjork y la marea de distorsión que emana su guitarra lo valorizan como frontman del proyecto. Lalli llevó el groove inmutable, paseando sus larguísimos dedos por las cuerdas del bajo con una fuerza jamás vista para un índice humano. Y el ritmo estaba en buenas manos con Gut, controlando todo desde el fondo.

Frente a un Plaza Mateo atiborrado y mesmerizado, Bjork y compañía brindaron hora y media de oda al fuzz. No faltaron el pogo ni la emoción, en una fecha ciertamente inolvidable para el rock local.

[darlingandmreames]

After the Andes get married they hyphenate their last names to Wainwright-Cartwright and Cartwright-Wainwright, respectively. This makes Nicholas’ life a living hell, and it’s no secret that this was 100% something they considered when deciding how to approach the name situation

[magicmalcolm]

[endreal]

After being surprisingly disappointed by unavailability and/or heartbreakingly long waitlists at the library I did a thing I haven't done in years and treated myself to a haul of new books - a few replacements for childhood favorites, a fever dream, and a recommendation from back in spring.

[hjemne]

i just remembered about an incredibly funny local legend but i cant say what it was without immediately doxxing myself rip

what i will say is that hot fuzz is not wholly inaccurate about rural english life and who the police get called to deal with

[formerheroeswhoquittoolate]

headcanon that the smaller batkids steal the bigger ones' hoodies and jackets. and by "bigger ones" I mean literally anyone bigger than them.

jason gets the short end of the stick because dick and all his little siblings take his. tim's the only one bold enough to go for the leather jackets (well, and cass, but they're way too wide in the shoulders for her) but it's not uncommon to find dick or stephanie in a dark red or gray hoodie that smells of motor oil and gunpowder.

damian usually takes dick's hoodies, but they're very oversized on him. on the bright side, there are thumbholes in the sleeves of all dick's hoodies, so he can still use his hands. the thumbholes make them a hot commodity in the winter.

there is a tim-steph-cass jacket pipeline. steph steals tim's hoodies and cass takes them from steph. hence tim stealing jason's leather jackets -- steph won't take them, so he gets to hold on to them until jason realizes and takes them back. sometimes cass will also steal duke's hoodies, but she always returns them clean and neatly folded (unlike how it goes with the rest of the family, in which they are returned only under threat of blackmail or with long rounds of negotiation).

this is an extremely long-standing ring of jacket theft. you cannot leave a hoodie unattended in wayne manor. damian doesn't actually own any hoodies, and cass only owns one, because there's so many other people in the house to "borrow" one from. nowhere is safe. steph once broke into dick's apartment to steal his warm hoodie, the one with the fuzz on the inside.

but it goes the other way sometimes. jason leaves things in the pockets of his leather jackets for tim -- film for his camera, hand sanitizer, half-filled punch cards for local coffee shops with "drink water too, fucker" written on the back. cass will tuck little slips of paper in the cuffed sleeves when she leaves hoodies out. the notes don't say anything, but they have little smiley faces and hearts on them, and steph has taken to doing something similar with corny jokes. dick just straight-up leaves candy in the hoods of his jackets.

it's a game, it's a love language. it's simultaneously annoyance and affection. there's nothing like wearing a hoodie that's too big for you, that smells like your family, to make you feel safe.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mentions of cannibalism and porn

↳ song: hit the road jack—ray charles

↳ notes: i can't believe i'm posting this (derogatory)

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• You had decided to move into the hotel after a particularly flashy poster caught your eye

• You were just walking to your run down apartment from a shift at your work, messing with the frayed ends of your sleeves, when a burst of neon red and yellow entered your field vision

• It was a poorly drawn advertisement colored head to toe in bright hues and glitter, advertising a hotel that would offer you a shot of getting out of hell

• With a shrug and a tug of the poster, you slipped it off the brick wall and into your pocket

• It’s not like you had anything else going on, and a free room was a free room. Besides; if the redemption thing turned out to be real, that would just be an added bonus

• Upon arriving at the doorstep of the hotel a few days later with a duffel bag in hand and the other rapping against the front door, you were nearly knocked over by a thin demon with red cheeks excitedly asking if you were there to check in

• “Oh my gosh hi! How are you! Because you look amazing and oh my gosh I’m so happy you’ve decided to check in!” She all but shouted in your ear. Cringing slightly, you leaned away from her embrace to slip inside

• “I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of guests?” You asked slowly as she closed the door behind you, some nearby dust stirring up at the action. The inside looked to empty to be a hotel

• “Nope!”

• Your first sign that you were getting more than you had bargained for should have been the sound of scuttling feet as a small demon made her way across your feet to impale a bug on her claws. She was lightly scolded for ‘accidently frightening our new addition’ before running off with the insect

• "Sorry about that! Nifty is really passionate about her job." The demon next to you laughed nervously. You just shifted your weight and nodded awkwardly in response

• Looking a few feet over to the living area, there was a lanky fellow covered in fuzz and lounging on a sad looking couch. He was flicking through channels on a T.V. You caught them occasionally landing on one and laughing before moving on, never staying entertained for too long

• The demon caught your eye, and waved two of his four hands at you in a lazy greeting

• “Oh, that’s Angel Dust! Our other resident." The woman, you now knew as Charlie, fussed. “He’s been with us for a few months, and has shown incredible progress! Something I’m sure you will find yourself doing!” She bounced on the balls of her feet happily while steering you around by the shoulders

• “Uh huh.” You couldn’t help but nod slowly, only now noticing that the channels Angel had been focusing on were blasting various types of porn shows

• A hasty tour was promptly carried out through the rest of the building. You were shown different rooms, all in various states of decay, while simultaneously meeting the other hotel inhabitants

• A fierce lady with a spear— Vaggie, as she had been introduced as —didn’t seem too up for conversation, only giving Charlie a peck on the cheek and you a suspicious glare before climbing a pair of stairs to take care of something else

• Back downstairs, the local bartender didn’t even bother to look at you, instead mumbling something under his breath while playing cards with a snake like demon

• “Don’t take it to heart. Husk is a big sweetheart, really.” Charlie waved at you with a closed eye smile, missing the way that Husk flipped her off grumpily. “And that’s Sir Pentious over there! Besides Angel Dust, and now you I guess, he’s our only guest.”

• The snake simply offered a loud and hissing hello before demanding with theatrical outrage that Husk was cheating. At least you think it was theatrical outrage. He seemed high strung either way

• But by far, the most memorable staff member you met on the tour was a tall demon with a red suit and fluffy ears; the likes of which you and Charlie had barged in on as he ate a plate of what looked like flesh. Whether animal, or something else, you couldn’t tell

• “Finally, this is our facility manager, Alastor! He helps out with all kinds of things here, and will be a key element in your redeeming process.” Your cheery guide announced. She seemed to ignore the slight tension in the air as the other member in the room smiled tightly, but the feeling disappeared as the tall demon stood up in greeting

• “Why Charlie!” Alastor’s voice crackled with heavy static, reminding you of audio from a gramophone. Or perhaps one of those old fashioned radio’s. “If I knew we were having company, I would have made myself more presentable!” He chuckled without ever looking anywhere but you

• You had to tilt your head up to look at him completely. There wasn’t a wrinkle on his suit, and every one of his hairs sat perfectly on his head. Even his monocle appeared to be freshly polished

• “Presentable.” You said slowly and without emotion, aware of Alastor’s highetened gaze on you. “Right.”

• Charlie was quick to get you to your new room after that

• It was weird, trying to fall into a rhythm with a group of people that had already become so aquatinted with one another, but you managed

• The trust exercises were cheesy and took too long, chores were a daily task for everyone, and Alastor snuck around in the shadows too much for your liking, but at least you had a place to live

• Besides. Who was to say you couldn’t make a few friends along the way?

[celestial-sphere-press]

what kind/style of endbands do you usually do? they look so good 👀

hi!! sorry for taking a while to answer, I wanted to make sure I could give you my best answer.

I usually do what's called a "double core" endband. I use double core endbands over the "bead on front" method because bead on front style is not great for uneven distributions of color, irregular patterns, or using more than three colors. Functionally it works by having your extra threads wrapped up inside the thread that is showing, forming the smaller secondary core. Ultimately you are doing figure 8s around the main core & then your secondary core of thread. This keeps things pretty neat & tidy. The tutorial I first used was this one by DAS Bookbinding, though I don't think his endband tutorials are his best ones. Another binder I've spoken with endbands about a lot is maleeka, who recently did an endband tutorial herself.

maybe I should do one... but it takes a lot for me to get enough motivation to make videos. I'll take this opportunity to write up some tips I've shared when people ask instead:

1. Endband core material is the MOST IMPORTANT component. You need a core that is stiff but flexible - it should NOT be floppy because it wiggles everywhere under the tension of the thread, but still needs to flex with the opening & closing of the book. You want something that doesn't compress, to reduce tension shifts in thread creating a lumpy endband. Have a smooth core is less critical but helps to avoid snagging threads & allows you some leeway on sliding threads around for adjustments. My personal choice is smooth leather jewelers cord (link is just an example, I get mine from a local craft store).

2. Thread size. All your threads need to be the same size; it will be visible if you are using two different sizes, and mess with your front core. Additionally, I know lots of people will use larger twists of multiple strands of embroidery thread, which can work, but is more likely to compress & alter its size in unexpected ways. A single strand is preferable. If you want something thicker you can find some thread weights that are heavier twists intended to be used in a single strand, not pulled apart. I prefer smaller sizes because it works better for the gradient designs I like.

3. Silk thread is your friend (if you can spend the money on it). It reduces fuzz (no fuzz like you get with cotton/DMC embroidery thread), it's usually easier to manage, has a more compact twist, and a higher shine. I use Japanese silk hand sewing thread in size #9 (9号). There's multiple brands (Tire, Daruma, KNK/kanagawa, etc). Here's a wholesale listing (minimum 20,000¥ for international). A non-Japanese brand is Guterman silk (German brand). Both the Japanese & German threads come in a heavier weight (Japanese is #16, Guterman is buttonhole).

4. Thread tension is the most important part of the actual technique. You need to ensure the threads currently wrapped in the secondary core keep tension when you are working the thread around them.

5. Working on a curve. This is only really relevant if you're doing an endband on a rounded book, but the circumference of the curve means there's more real estate on the outside vs inside of the curve. Sometimes this can cause bunching on the secondary core. My own solution to this is that sometimes I wrap the primary core but drop a wrap here or there around the secondary core (only between two wraps of the same color I'm dropping). I uh... don't know of anyone currently recommending this besides myself so I can't point to any pro endorsement for this method, it's just what works for me. Forgive my terrible writing:

6. Pattern management. I... don't really plan much how my patterns sit on the spine, which is not very helpful. HOWEVER you can do some pattern management on the fly, if you really want your pattern to end at a certain place. Thread can be packed more or less densely on the core, resulting in some pattern compression; you could also strategically drop wraps in less noticeable locations. An unintended example: I was replicating the pattern on this endband (left) when I realize I wasn't packing the thread as densely as I had the first time around (right), which resulted in the overall pattern taking up more space. You can do this on purpose, if you need to.

this was way more than you asked but it gave me a chance to put all this in one spot. Best of luck in vanquishing the dreaded EndWyrms.

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |

[trying-harder-then-u]

Philip wasn't used to all the stares he was getting from his workers; for god's sake, he was the CEO, and they should be paying respect to him, but instead all the builders to whom he paid the salary just stared in confusion and pity at the tall man in his suit guiding the investors around the construction site.

His black suit, thin build, and clean-shaven appearance drew a harsh contrast to the men that watched. The bored faces of the investors showed that they were just as interested in this as he was, so it was a respite when he managed to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

Stumbling along, dirt and dust caking his boots, he finally ran into the manager of the property, a bulky man with a short fuse. "Where is the bathroom?" he inquired, only greeted by a judging glance as he stared down. "It's employee only; the public bathroom is a block away." Philip was shocked by the never-ending argument, but he made a mental note to find some recourse for the attitude. He picked his way through the clogged city blocks, finally coming to the public bathrooms.

As he walked into the graffiti-covered stall, he felt his disgust build as he saw a strange liquid covering not just the floor but the bathrooms and walls as well. and judging from the smell, he could tell where this liquid came from. Knowing that he didn't have time to waste, he quickly rolled up toilet paper and wiped down the seat of the toilet. After a few seconds, he went to chuck it when he stepped into a large puddle of cum, glaring at the gunk stuck on his heel. Using the wall to support him as he tried to scrape it off, he only managed to get it on his clothes before finally feeling more drip from the roof on top of his bald head.

Now thoroughly disgusted, he went to leave but found he couldn't; he seemed to be...

rooted to the spot? Phillip's whole body began to shiver as his eyes moved rapidly in his sockets. The shivering began to localize on his legs as a cracking sound filled the air. Did the door seem to grow bigger and bigger, or was he getting smaller? He remembered from the view that his height had gone from 6 feet 3 to 5 feet 6. His mind kept screaming as his body tingled, his thin arms tingled, and he began to thicken along with his legs, a small gut growing out.

His pale skin soon would change too as his skin darkened and tanned, matching that of his many workers. changed rapidly now, his once clean, shaven body growing hair all over and his slightly below-average "tool" shrinking a few inches. Finally able to leave, he felt his head fuzz as if his thoughts were being yelled at him through glass, but he did begin to panic when he didn't return to his investors but rather to the man. "Where have you been?" Phillip thought he was yelling; he couldn't hear anything, though. Looking down, his clothes also changed to a plain tee and some shorts; he truly looked just like a worker now.

The next 5 hours, his body went on autopilot, working harder than his old body ever had, but when the work day finally ended, he kept walking to a house he had never seen, climbing stairs after stairs before finally coming to a door that reeked of cum and sweat. Opening in, he saw a young Latino man, no pants, and busy playing some kind of video game. He somehow knew that this was the man whose cum had covered the bathroom that had caused all this.

glancing over the man—his boyfriend? No, that can't be. He was married, and his thoughts were getting harder. Mmm, Phillipe could see the bulge in the other man's underwear, and the other man obviously could see Phillipe's eyes. "Why don't you come help Daddy out, baby?" excitedly he moved forward and began stripping his BF. "That's it, ik you liked the stuff you found in the bathroom you slut, come get some from the source" as he greedily sucked away his memories. Natural, his Spanish accent? attractive to the ladies, not like he needs it with his boyfriend around. His memories shifted fully, and Philip was gone. He was Philip, a Mexican immigrant working hard so his hot boyfriend could play games. His life was difficult with working and then doing all the chores, but at least he got some good dick. and not a person would miss who he was...

[darlingandmreames]

Hot Fuzz and 28 Days Later have bizarrely similar vibes. I am not accepting criticism

[undead-supernova]

Chapter 2 - Series Masterlist

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

plot: you and Eddie decide you're both showing up. grab some beer, bowl. let that melted cheese on your nachos bring you to a state of vulnerability.

wc: 6k

cw: bickering, smoking, bowling, and alcohol consumption

fic title reference: We Are Going To Be Friends by The White Stripes

I Saw the TV Glow was a big inspiration for this chapter. I don't know how to explain that. They couldn't be more opposite storylines. It did spark this idea so I still have to shout it out. And I listened to the soundtrack while writing it! Beautiful.

p.s. if you havent seen I Saw the TV Glow, you totally should. it's a very important story about queerness and one of the best movies to be released this year. anyways don't think about that right now. instead, go ahead and read this chapter that I'm very proud of. watch the movie after.

There once was a boy who made your impressionable heart swell. He was the class clown, the certified It Boy of your middle school class. Not a jock by any stretch of the imagination, all lanky and desperate for just a touch of peach fuzz on his upper lip. But he was charming. And funny. And cute.

He made the girls giggle and twirl their hair, imitating the exaggerations of television. They would wear makeup to school, always quick to pass around tubes of lip gloss as soon as they left their mothers’ cars. 

You, however, stayed true to yourself. You tried the natural approach, quite certain that he would like you if you didn’t act like the other girls. Sure, he never looked your way. He never gave you a second thought. But, for some reason, that meant something to you.

The day you were assigned a seat next to him in English, he’d forgotten his book. This was your shot. This was your moment. So you offered to share yours, heads huddled together to peer down at the pages of Catcher in the Rye. Your heart was pounding in your ears, shutting out the teacher completely.

After class, he’d thanked you. Asked for your name. Told you it was really pretty. Then he asked for your help on his next paper.

And you said yes immediately, a larva without the protection of a chrysalis.

You agonized over his papers, noting that he wasn’t necessarily the best writer or all that smart, but it was him. He trusted you with his words and that meant he could trust you with his heart. At some point.

Until the end of eighth grade when he invited you to meet him on the playground, behind a large oak tree that the kids used as cover to make out. You’d approached slowly, wearing the lipstick you’d stolen from the local pharmacy.

But when you peered around, you were drenched in spoiled milk. Milk. 

A chorus of laughter sounded and you watched in horror as your crush grinned at you like you were entertainment.

His friend handed him a five dollar bill and they ran off.

That was all you were worth.

After that, you thought you knew what hurt was. What it was like to learn your lesson and never allow yourself the ability to fall into something like that again. An unrequited crush. But that was before high school, where the boys got more clever in their humiliation. Fake love notes, getting handsy at dances before calling you a freak. 

You swore never to let a boy you liked be mean to you again. You meant it.

But never once did you believe it.

It’s just a bowling alley, you thought. Spending one night with him won’t kill me.

The parking lot was nearly deserted, outside of a few Hondas and a gray Chevy Astro. Two of the street lamps were blown out, the remaining three dulled by the fierce January chill. 

You wondered if Eddie would even show up. Maybe this was his prank, one with Ashton Kutcher as an accomplice waiting around in an alley and snickering to themselves. You’d believe it. He was devious enough to make it happen.

It would be a joke for the ages, after you’d applied makeup and spent time working on your hair. You’d put on something casual but seemingly more put together, a deep brown long-sleeved shirt, leaving the first two buttons popped. Layered on top was a cropped, dark green jacket with a hood. You’d settled for dark blue jeans and Converse, sure, but the muted nude pink lipstick you pathetically checked in the sun visor was a step above your usual stupidity.

But Eddie had been insistent about this and it hurt to admit it, but you believed him. In your hardest of hearts, you trusted his word. It was aggravating.

The clock struck seven and you gave yourself one last deep breath before you got out of your car and made your way to the entrance. 

Lanesman was a frequent spot for you, a solitary activity that gave you an excuse to revert to your childhood. After you’d moved back and took this job, you found yourself gravitating towards what used to bring you joy. Bowling with the kid bumpers apparently did the trick.

Working at a high school made you realize that growing up didn’t mean forgetting. It didn’t mean an automatic erasure of what used to soothe your blues. If anything, it reinforced your need for that promise of safety.

The lobby was beige and dull, walls smattered in faded neon paint that hadn’t been updated since your youth. A miserable looking teenager stood at the concession stand, frustratedly trying to get the popcorn to pop. 

As you scanned further, you felt something shock your system as you saw Eddie standing there, waving at you with his plethora of rings twinkling in a fluorescent haze.

He looked nice tonight, with a black Henley, jeans, and Converse that mirrored yours. He started towards you, leaving you to notice the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. A hint of black could be spotted underneath, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as you wondered what tattoos he hid underneath.

But the thing that got you was his hair.

You’d never seen it down before, couldn’t even estimate how long you thought it would be. It hung in wavy curtains around his face and draped onto his shoulders. This was something you hadn’t seen coming. And here he was, sidling up to you.

“You’re early,” you started.

“Yeah, well,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m honestly shocked you showed up.”

“Yes, it seems that we are both in a state of shock.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ll have to trust me eventually, you know.”

“We’ll see about that,” you shot back, shaking your head.

He snorted. “Alright, well. I’ll get the shoes if you get the beer.”

“I can do that,” you agreed before giving him your shoe size.

Eddie lifted his fingers and shot you with finger guns. “Always believed in you.”

He winked. 

Frustration flooded your system as he held your gaze for a moment too long. “I’m leaving now,” you murmured before walking away.

“You do that.”

Yeah, I will, you thought. Dickhead.

You made your way to the counter where that poor kid held up a finger as he attempted to fix the popcorn machine. The sounds of the arcade in the other room projected into the concession area, electronic sounds and buzzers trying to lure children in. As if there were any here in the first place. 

Eventually you ordered, getting a pitcher of beer and nachos. As you waited for the cheese machine to whirl back to life, you found your eyes wandering over towards the shoe hut. 

Eddie was laughing at something the kid said before taking two pairs of shoes and heading towards the back where the lanes were. Those areas were covered in blue wallpaper with pink squiggles, glowing neon in the rotating lights. He faded into the glow, dropping the shoes onto the table. 

You wondered why he’d gotten here early, going so far as to avoid the observation once you’d acknowledged it. This wasn’t even including his attitude being much more reserved than usual. He didn’t mock you once in that entire interaction. 

The night was still young, though.

When you walked over, Eddie’s eyes lit up at the sight of goodies in your arms.

“Beer and nachos?” he asked.

“Got a problem with nachos?”

Eddie grabbed a chip, drenching it in as much cheese as he could. “No, but you will after I eat all of them,” he said before tossing it into his mouth.

“Of course you’d never leave me any,” you commented as you set down the cups, beer, and nachos next to the shoes. 

He swallowed before shaking his head. “You know I can just get us some more, right?”

You shrugged off your coat, tossing it over his. “So that you can eat all of those, too?”

“These are some harsh accusations.”

“They’re hunches,” you countered, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Come on. Tonight’s supposed to be about starting over, remember?”

You knew he was right. This was supposed to be a truce. Where was your can-do attitude? 

You took a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, okay. Sure. Yes. Starting over.”

Eddie smiled at you before throwing out his hand. “Hi, I’m Eddie Munson. Nice to meet you.”

You stared down at his hand. “We’re doing this?”

His smile widened. “We are.”

“Okay, fine.” You introduced yourself before taking his hand in yours. Shaking it, you added, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“What do you do for work?”

You snorted. “Uh, I’m a freshman English teacher at South Jefferson High School.”

He gave you a surprised expression. “You’re serious?”

“Uh, yeah?” you asked, confused.

He placed his free hand on his chest. “I’m a freshman English teacher at South Jefferson High School.” 

That was when you realized what was going on. What Eddie was attempting to do. You were really starting over. And if he was animated about this bit then, fuck it, you could be, too. 

Enthusiastically, you exclaimed, “What? That’s crazy!”

Eddie grinned, sparking something inside you. “Isn’t it?”

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” you asked, fully playing along now.

“I don’t know! I’m in room 11A.”

You gasped. “I’m in 14A.”

“This is so bizarre.”

“I know. Small world, huh?”

In the silence that followed, you became aware of pressure that remained against your palm. The forgotten sensation that had your eyes lowering to your hand. They were joined, warmth being passed back and forth as your playful exchange came to a close. It felt like you couldn’t breathe.

So, you let go.

“Wanna bowl?” you asked, still feeling hazy. “With…me?”

Eddie coughed before sticking his hands in his back pockets. “Absolutely. Though, I have to warn you that I have the bumpers up.”

You smiled. “That’s the only way to play.”

Eddie won the first round. 

However, much to his dismay, you won the second.

It involved a lot of groans, snorts, and retreats to the beer pitcher in between turns. Overall, it was a pretty civil affair which surprised Eddie. He wondered how you felt about it.

The two of you now sat on top of the joint tables, having gone through a second pitcher of beer and demolished another helping of nachos. There’d only been one or two lanes taken up since you started, the room still in near silence outside of “I Wanna Love You” by Akon and Snoop Dogg playing over the crackled speakers. 

You sat close to one another, mirroring each other. Both you and Eddie were hunched over, feet planted on the chair in front. But as the conversation continued, you were turning closer to one another. The distance didn’t really feel like distance anymore.

Eddie was finishing off his final sip of beer when you suggested, “What if we did honesty hour?”

He glanced over at you, slowly lowering his cup. “What, like ask each other questions?”

“Yeah, and the other person has to answer. Nonegotiable.”

That was rather brave of you. And bold. You avoided any and all sense of trying to understand him. Not once did you ask him a question that wasn’t drenched in kerosene. Plus, what did you know about honesty? You grew defensive at any hint of curiosity and hostile when he reiterated whatever you told him. Could this really be considered progress or just a chance to seem like the good guy?

“Oh, I don’t know if you could handle your own game,” he challenged.

“What!” you exclaimed, lifting your hands.

He shook his head, unable to believe you were seriously that shocked. “You always have this look in your eye,” he said, wiggling his fingers in your face.

“What look?” you asked, slapping his hand away.

“Like you’re withholding information.”

One of your eyebrows twitched. “Is it wrong for me to keep some things to myself?” you argued, a forced chuckle leaving your lips. “I don’t need to tell you every thought in my head.”

“Why not?” “Because you make fun of everything I do!”

Eddie shook his head again, your irony bordering on comical. “You get mad at everything I do. Why do you get to be all high and mighty about it?”

“Because at least I keep my opinions to myself.”

“You make your opinions very clear, actually.” You rolled your eyes. “Okay, so are we gonna start or what? I don’t wanna do this if you’re gonna keep getting defensive.”

You let out a small groan. “Okay, yes. Fine.”

“We’ll start off easy, okay?” You nodded. “What was your favorite part of Napoleon Dynamite?”

You chuckled, catching him off guard. Then you smiled and an unexpected ease filled his chest. “Oh, most definitely Napoleon test tasting the milk.”

“It’s so nasty,” he agreed, feeling a laugh escape him. “Almost as good as the part when he watches Pedro ride his bike and asks if he can too and—”

“And he breaks the ramp!” you finished for him.

He nodded emphatically. “Yes, exactly!”

“I loved it. It was really funny.”

“What can I say? I have good taste.”

“You have one point,” you told him, holding up your pointer finger. “One.”

He shrugged. “That’s one more than yesterday.”

“Guess that means it’s my turn to ask a question?”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I think I have a few more.”

“What? I came up with the idea.”

“Yes, but you always dodge answering anything honestly.”

“As if you don’t say anything other than,” you lowered your voice, “Oh, look at me. I’m so cool. You’re just jealous ‘cause I’m just so cool.”

Eddie snorted. “And what do you think you do?” He raised the pitch of his voice. “What? How dare you! Stop that! Ugh. I could never.”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed. “I do sound like that.”

“Finally rolling an eighteen for once.”

You paused. Eddie watched as you looked down. “Did you just…” you trailed, eyes slowly coming back up to meet his. “Did you just make a Dungeons and Dragons reference?”

“Maybe.”

A loud chortle flew through the air as you exclaimed, “Oh my god! You’re a nerd!”

He rolled his eyes. “Nerd? Really? Are we in high school?” You gave him a playful shrug. “The fact that you know the rules means you’re just as big of a nerd as I am.”

“Exactly!” you exclaimed. “It’s not a bad thing. It just feels like. Well. I don’t know. I guess, to me, it feels like you’re a real human being now.”

“That’s because you have forgotten to ask me anything about myself.” You opened your mouth, but he beat you to the punch. “Which you can do after I ask mine.”

“Okay, fine,” you replied with a huff.

“Do you actually enjoy teaching at SJ?”

“Of course I do,” you said too quickly, eyes narrowing.

Eddie shook his head. “Defensive. I really am asking. It’s not a trap.”

“Fine, fine,” you agreed, holding up your hands. “I enjoy what I’ve started doing. I mean, I don’t think I’ve made the impact that I’ve wanted to, which was why getting the opportunity to do this full-time was really exciting.”

“Do you think this’ll be a long term thing? Teaching here?”

“I hope so. Maybe not forever, but I want to right now. I think I owe it to these kids who’re already in such a vulnerable phase in their lives. It keeps getting scarier out in the world. The least I can do is try to help make it easier with the small pocket of time I have in their lives.”

“That’s really sweet,” Eddie whispered, and he meant it.

“Oh, thanks,” you whispered back. “I mean it.”

“Does your family live around here? Or your, uh, boyfriend.” He panicked when you raised an eyebrow. “Or girlfriend. I, uh, I don’t judge.”

Shaking your head, you said, “No, my family isn’t around. I haven’t seen them in over a year. I moved back and then they moved across the country. Besides, we barely call. We’re all bad at using the phone. I write them sometimes, but it’s usually attached to cheesy holiday cards.” You looked down at your cup. “And no. I don’t have a partner of any kind at the moment.”

“Interesting,” he said.

“Do you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I what?”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?”

Eddie almost said, “Why do you wanna know?” But you were making real progress for once. He couldn’t fuck it up now. Not when your eyes were returning to his, brave and unafraid now.

“I do not,” he answered. “I don’t have a partner of any kind right now.”

“And your family?”

It was his turn to cower away. “Yikes,” he whispered, planting a goofy expression on his face to soften the blow. “Uh, yeah. My dad’s in jail and my mom passed when I was a kid. My uncle lived around here but he actually met a nice guy so now they pose as roommates in Ohio.”

“What’s in Ohio?”

That was your answer? To everything he just said, giving you the basics of a fucked up childhood, the only thing you had to respond with was a question about what state his uncle and his boyfriend settled on?

“Dave, I guess,” he replied, studying your lack of expression. You let out a hum and nodded. “Does that not, like, weird you out?”

“What part exactly?”

“My parents.”

You shook your head. “No, not really.”

“Hm.”

“Do you want me to be weirded out?”

“No, I…” Eddie trailed before taking a deep breath. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

You nodded. “Then you’ll be absolutely ecstatic to know that I am far from being weirded out.”

“Incredible,” he said lightly, trying to force out a laugh. He sobered up quickly when you gave him a closed-lip smile. “Last question.”

“Hit me.”

Do you really hate me?

He blinked. “Would you go outside with me and share a cigarette?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

So you climbed off the tables, grabbing your jackets and heading back out the front door. Eddie had been eyeing your appearance all night, especially the lipstick you’d donned. You never wore lipstick at work and you hadn’t the last few times he saw you around the city. Why now?

If only asking questions didn’t get him annihilated. 

“I’ve actually decided I want my own,” you said, turning toward him.

“Of course you do.” Your breaths fogged together as you chuckled. “Are you finally gonna try a Marlboro Red?”

Your smile bordered on mischief as you pointed your thumb at the parking lot. “I mean, I have a pack of Newports in my car. I could always go get them.”

Eddie shook his head, slipping his pack out of his jacket. “Nah, I don’t trust you to come back.”

Snapping, you said, “Damn. You foiled my epic evil plan.”

“I see right through you.”

“You sure do.”

Eddie held out a lone cigarette for you to take. You gave him a small smile before plucking it from his fingers and sliding it between your teeth. He tried handing you the lighter but you shook your head.

“You’re not gonna light it for me?” you asked around the cigarette. “Some manners you’ve got.”

With only a snort as a response, Eddie lit both of your cigarettes at the same time. The smoke swirled through the air, mimicking a blanket of snow you were sure to get in the next few weeks.

The banter between you was nice. Eddie had made his peace with the constant back and forth, but nothing felt better than this. The two of you being civil and, if not friends, friendly. Your scowl had faded, leaving behind your gentler expressions. If he didn’t find you beautiful before, there was something almost explosive about what he saw now.

He wondered what it was like to grow up so wondrous. What kind of kid you were and whether you experienced the atrocities that he had in high school. What did you turn into after, when you could grasp at the sleeves of freedom? Did your fingers ever slip?

You bent down to stub out the cigarette before tossing it in the trash can next to the door. Eddie watched you, wondering how he could keep you from leaving. Sure, you probably weren’t thinking about leaving. But. Still.

He needed more time with you. He needed more time to understand you. And if you were to walk away from here tonight without divulging those details, he thought he’d explode. Especially when you’d be back as coworkers the following week.

So, he got an idea.

“We should go to the little arcade inside.”

“Why, so I can beat your ass?”

“Woah there!” Eddie exclaimed. “Trash talk. I like it.”

You took a step towards the door, watching as he flicked his cigarette out onto the pavement. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

Before you could pull any further, Eddie was taking the handle from you. “I should do it more often,” he replied, gesturing for you to walk through.

“It’s only ‘cause I’m a little tipsy.”

“You didn’t have to drink the beer. I mean, it is kinda shitty.”

You shrugged. “I’ve been having fun. Sue me.”

“Then you’ll be excited to know that the arcade is the final showdown.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, think about it. I won the first round. You won the second, right?” You nodded. “So who is the winner?”

“We could tie and practice good sportsmanship.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You giggled. You fucking giggled.

It jolted him. It wasn’t lightning, but rather the shock of static electricity on an unforgiven doorknob. 

“You’re right,” you said with a shrug.

God, he really fucking liked you.

“We’ll play three rounds,” Eddie started, fiddling with the coins in his hands. “First are Galaga and Target Terror. And then, for our final showdown? The claw machine.”

“The claw machine is rigged,” you argued. “We’ll both lose.”

“Yeah, with that attitude.” You snorted. “You can’t know if you don’t try.”

Instead of whipping up some witty comeback, you trudged over to the dusty Galaga machine, noting that one of the coin slots was shattered.

Eddie came to stand next to you, plopping a coin in your palm before you thrusted it into the unbroken slot and took off.

One thing you’d failed to mention up until this point was how shitty you were at any and all arcade games. You’d once thought Galaga was your favorite, something you gravitated towards as a kid. The flashes of neon against the black, with only specks of color to create the illusion of a night sky. It always drew you in, the feeling that you were escaping somewhere outside yourself. Outside of the reality— 

“Oh, come on, really?” you exclaimed as you failed. 

“You’re just smashing the keys,” Eddie groaned.

You shot him a look. “But that’s what you’re supposed to do!”

“Well,” he started, bumping your hip with his. “Doesn’t matter now ‘cause you’re dead. Officially. Time for you to scoot over. Come on.”

Reluctantly, you switched places. 

And, boy, were you immediately intimidated.

Eddie was a whiz, all calm and collected as he focused on the screen like his life depended on it. His fingers stretched, skillfully defending space from the countless hoards of aliens and other creatures that dared to cross his path. 

He finally died at the low low score of 140,820. 

“What the fuck?” you muttered as he took a step back and grinned at you.

“So that’s, what, two points now for me and one for you?”

You tried to suppress your glare. “Good job,” you said through your teeth.

Eddie gave you a bow. “Why, thank you. Sometimes it pays off to be a nerd.”

It wasn’t that you were a sore loser. But you were with a sore winner. Now it was time to get your revenge. How you would do that was beyond you, but you had to try.

“Come on,” you told him.

Your next destination was the Target Terror, taking the red gun before he even approached. For good measure, you turned and pretended to shoot him. Eddie let out a dramatic gasp before clutching his chest and falling to the floor.

Laughter tumbled out of you without any thought, made boisterous when he twitched and kept making the stupidest noises you’d ever heard before finally playing dead.

“Bravo,” you complimented.

Like a flattened cartoon character, he regenerated and sprung back up to his feet. 

“I’m a natural, I know,” he responded, sliding coins in for you both.

“Yeah, you should be the next drama teacher.”

He grabbed the blue gun. “I actually think I’d kick ass at it.”

He didn’t sound like he was joking.

As you went to shoot the start button, you couldn’t help but look over at Eddie. He was checking out the gun and deciding on his hand placement as if that mattered. But you were thinking about something else.

Eddie was a good guy, wasn’t he? Take away his revolting arrogance and inability to keep his mouth shut and you could see a person underneath. His ambition mirrored yours and maybe, just maybe, his heart had been in the right place all along. Maybe there was more to him that you wanted to learn.

You wanted to be his friend.

Eddie caught your eye, pausing to look up at you. “What?” he asked. “You waiting on me?”

“Um.” You made yourself look back at the screen. “Yeah, I want to win fair and you’re taking too long. So. Uh. Let’s play.”

Without another word, you shot the first level and the two of you were off, trying to kill as many bad guys as you could. Though, they were kinda lame, just some guys in hoodies and sunglasses. A few of them were women which you appreciated, but they were the only ones who seemed like they had any real backstories. 

You tried not to sneak a glance over at Eddie’s score, but you couldn’t help it. You were winning. He seemed to be struggling, glancing over at you every so often. His frustrated looks sat in your peripheral, leaving you with a shit eating grin on your face as you took your sweet time. 

“What the hell,” he said when it hit game over.

You pretended to blow smoke off of your plastic gun before putting it back. “You were just smashing the trigger,” you said. “So, that’s, what? Two points for me, two for you?”

Eddie sighed. “Guess I deserved that one.”

You smirked. 

The claw machine was the final destination, lined in yellow and emitting a neon glow. Turning to look at Eddie, you saw the neon illuminating his dark eyes which were solely on you. 

You nearly did a double take, suddenly overwhelmed by the exposure.

“What?” you asked.

“What?” he retorted, smirking.

“You’re staring at me.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re really pretty.”

Your gut twisted again. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Yeah, of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?’

“I feel like you look at me as some, I don’t know, clownish hag or something.”

“Clownish hag?” he repeated.

“Or something.”

Eddie laughed. “You’re just saying that because that’s how you see me.”

“You think that I think you’re a clownish hag?”

“Isn’t that why you’re so annoyed by me?”

“No, I’m annoyed by you because your goal in life is to make mine miserable.”

“Sure, yeah. Let’s go with that.” You rolled your eyes. “So how do you see me then? Hm?” “I mean, a guy like you already knows how pretty he is. I don’t think I have to be the one to tell you that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Pretty, huh?”

“What?” you asked, blinking.

“You think I’m pretty, too.”

“Objectively, yes.”

“Objectively,” he repeated, snorting.

“You can’t deny it.”

“Only if you don’t deny finding me pretty.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright. Come on.” He gestured towards the machine. “Go ahead and try.”

Your eyes lingered on him for possibly a second too long before you returned your attention to the claw machine. Hitting the start button, you moved the claw around the box. You were sure this was going to fail. There was no other way for this to go.

Eddie called me pretty.

It was a rigged system. You give them your money, left with the unspoken contract that this was a game of chance. You paid for what you got in the end. No take backs. No refunds. What you ended up with was what you ended up with. There was no return to the way things were before you gave away something so special. 

Eddie called me pretty.

But in the end, there really was nothing left to lose. So, you slammed your hand down on the button.

Eddie called me pretty.

Slowly, the claw extended and fell against a small tiger plushie. It clamped down on its head before slowly rising. You gasped as it stayed secure and moved towards the safety box inside. Then, the claw opened.

And you won.

Almost simultaneously, you and Eddie erupted in shrieks, jumping up and down as you stared at the machine in disbelief. 

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed.

His eyes sparkled. “You did it!” 

“I know! That was crazy!”

Eddie laughed and gave you a high five. “That was amazing.”

You shrugged. “I’m the best, what can I say?”

“Can’t disagree with you there, sweetheart.”

You felt your eyes widen, mirroring the same exact movement now coming from him. 

Sweetheart.

Of all the names you’d been given from crushes, part-time lovers, and partners, never had you heard the word sweetheart.

It sent a wave of bubbles to your gut before floating up, up, up and into your throat. You tried to clear it, but nothing could get it out. Eddie held your stare, seemingly unable to make a comment. Unable to call you out for what you surely knew he knew despite you not really knowing for yourself. 

What was happening?

“Eddie?”

You heard him take a sharp inhale as his name left your lips. It was the first time you’d uttered it out loud. To yourself. To someone else.

To him.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, slowly. “Anything.”

You could feel yourself unraveling. “Do you really want to be my friend?” you whispered.

Eddie’s expression softened. “Of course I do.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even blink.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The catch in your throat was enough.

Eddie’s hands lifted, fingers slowly curling around your cheeks before bringing your lips to his. 

It was the meteor you never saw coming. A gentle kind of impact. It’s intense and explosive, but there’s safety. Somehow, Eddie’s the reason why. 

He was gone too quickly, not giving you enough time to process why he was making you feel this way. But his eyes met yours and suddenly he was the breathless one.

“Uh, sorry,” he said, taking slow blinks.

You didn’t know what to say. Too many questions were caught in your throat. Was this manipulation? Was this real? And if it was, did that mean he liked you? Did that mean that you liked him?

But Eddie began to take a step back and it angered you to no end.

“Don’t you dare,” you grumbled, grabbing onto that stupid open collar of his. “Come here.” You pulled him back toward you, connecting your lips once more.

The trance fixed itself, your brain struck with neon pixels of excitement, of bewilderment. There was this need to completely consume him. To take his breath as your own so that you may understand who he is and what makes this so different.

You knew you’d never be the same after this ended.

Eddie was quick to reverse the roles, turning you around pulling you to the other side of the claw machine, hiding you both. You had no problem shoving him against the wall, both hands on his chest now. 

He broke through your arms, reaching for your jaw once more and dragging you closer. As if that were possible. As if there was any space left between your bodies. 

It wasn’t desire. It was necessity.

Your fingers locked around his hips, digging your fingernails as hard as you could. It was instinctual, like there was no other way this could go.

He let out a deep moan, sounding more like a growl than anything else. It sprung you further as you pressed your hips against his. You found friction and chased it without hesitation. 

Hands moved down to your neck, squeezing ever so lightly.

Your goosebumps rose like static electricity. 

But then someone cleared their throat. Loudly.

You jumped away, turning to find the kid from the counter. “Uh, yeah, hi. Please stop making out in the arcade.”

“Oh, sorry,” you said.

All he did was shrug and walk away.

Slowly, your heart slowed down and you dared yourself to look back at Eddie, his pink lips coated in your lipstick.

His eyes were already on yours, but you could see little flickers to your lips. It restarted that pumping, pushing you to take a step forward.

So did he.

His hand found your elbow and drew you forward.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“That was…” he trailed.

“It was what?” you asked, feeling dread pool in your stomach.

He paused. Too long, your thoughts echoed. Too long.

And that’s when it finally hit you.

Eddie hadn’t given you a second glance before the book club debacle started. There was no indication of interest or intrigue, settling on December as the start date of his ventures. December, when it was finalized that the two of you would be sponsoring together. 

He’d come into the break room for lunch. He had to know you’d be in there, had to know already that you were co-sponsors. Why else would he try to rile you up? Why else would he try to befriend you?

He was tricking you.

This had been his plan all along. 

He was trying to get you to forget all about the book club. He was trying to take it for himself. You knew he’d certainly read enough books to know how to do it. 

This was what men did. They got you alone, vulnerable, and then stabbed you in the back. Their games were always the same. 

You’d grown up, but you were still just as naive as you were at eleven. Fifteen. Nineteen. Twenty-five.

“What am I doing?” you wondered out loud, glancing at him one last time before you turned and walked towards your coat and purse.

Eddie didn’t follow you.

Once more, you smoothed the wrinkles in your white button down and red floral skirt. Your heel-clad feet ached as you leaned against the desk at the head of the room. Next to you was Eddie, back to his bun and waiter uniform. He stood a few feet away, but you were more than conscious of his presence.

It was cumbersome, lighting your skin on fire as you gave fake smiles to every student filing into your classroom at three-ten in the afternoon. The tension was palpable, found in the awkward silence that rested between the two of you.

One by one, the students sat down and made small talk with their friends. They laughed and giggled, eyes flickering over to you two every so often.

But at three-fifteen, you heard Eddie clear his throat.

“We’re going to start by re-introducing ourselves,” he started.

You both said your names.

You couldn’t help but glance over at Eddie, watching as he did the same.

Quickly averting your gaze, you took a quick breath and looked back at the kids.

“So,” you said. “Who wants to go first?”

requested tagging: @anukulee, @twihard28, @doorlesscub00, @whisperingwillowxox, @ubiquitous-corvids, @kellsck

thank you to @littlexdeaths for her dividers :')

[gatorbites-imagines]

the request for hobie and the icp spiderman reader has intrigued me and I would like to see hobie x male reader who isnt a spiderman but a civillian, hes the lead guitarist for a metal band and hobie shows up to the venue for the readers concert as theres a gun threat or something along those lines (if thats ok ofc )

Hobie Brown x lead guitarist male reader

Headcanons

I think im experiencing writers block again.

You two most likely met at one of your concerts, or one of Hobies’ for that matter. Maybe it was an event where multiple bands would play.

You would both be amazed by the others playing, and before either of you knew what was happening, you two could be found flirting in the corner of the room. Everyone else faded into the background as you two got to know each other.

Time would pass, you two would text as you shared numbers that night, you two would go to each other’s concerts, all the shebang. Sadly Hobie had to slow down on his own music as all the spiderman things started going down, but that doesn’t stop him from coming to see you.

He can always be found in the crowd somewhere, easily spotted thanks to his height and his hair. Seeing him there always makes you feel better, and you tell him he’s gotta be your lucky token, as you’re playing always sounds better when he’s present.

It would be no secret that you two were dating, as it becomes a common sight to see you jump off the stage after concerts, maybe even throwing yourself as Hobie so he has to catch you. It becomes part of the experience for the people going after a while.

Your band probably isn’t that big, maybe more of a local famous band, but that’s exactly what Hobie loves anyways. He doesn’t approve of the larger music industry and how it relies on nepotism and money.

A gun threat could happen for many reasons, maybe they don’t like the music or your bands message, maybe they don’t like that the lead guitarist is so openly gay, maybe they just did it because it was somewhere with a lot of people.

Because the world you guys live in, you all get down when the person with the gun appears, waving their weapon around and threatening the people around them.

Of course, you have to play hero, so when they are threatening to shoot someone, you jump off the stage to get their attention. Right as the gun turns towards you and they are about to pull the trigger, Spiderman shows up and takes care of the perp.

If hes being extra rough with the perp, no one will notice. Its of course because Hobie was terrified you would get hurt, especially if he knows about canon events at this point, and has seen how the lovers of spiderpeople always end up hurt or dead.

He can’t go scoop you up as spiderman, so he quickly wraps up what he needs to do and comes back as himself, making it seem like he was there the whole time. Your band would be fuzzing over you, whilst also calling you cool for stepping in like that, when Hobie comes running.

Your bandmates only laugh as Hobie picks you up, checks you all over, and kisses you, telling you to never do something so stupid again.

After that Hobie would be on edge for a while, tense and paying closer attention to you than normal. He would stick closer to you during concerts, always eyeing the people around and staying close to the stage so he could pull you to safety if needed.

Your bandmates and the locals would just accept it, seeing it as one of Hobies quirks, some would even find it romantic that he watches out for you so much after the threat. They just think hes a protective boyfriend, they have no idea your protective boyfriend is spiderman though.

If he has no choice but to patrol on nights you have concerts, he always sticks close by and swings past where the concert is happening, to see you, but also to keep an eye out for any danger. It becomes a joke that spiderman is a big fan of your band, which you find humorous since he is, everyone else just doesn’t know.

It would take a while for Hobie to calm down, though the caution is always there but it’s always been there, as it comes with being spiderman. Just expect to be kisses before every concert now except for after, just in case.

[ellieshyperfixations]

X-Men HCS Pt.2

This is with X-Men ‘97 in mind!

(Hurricane Helen Knocked out my power for a week edition! 😜)

Logan gets just straight black, coffee, the strongest the shop has.

Jubilee gets the sweetest, most diabetes inducing, would kill a Victorian man, coffee to ever exist.

She also is disgusted by Logan’s coffee, she took a sip once and hated it so much she gagged.

Also, Ororo hates coffee and is 100% a tea person.

Kurt cannot and will not sit normally. He has fallen out of chairs multiple times due to “sitting” in too weird positions.

Logan is a cat person. I will not explain.

After moving to the X-Mansion, Rogue saw snow for the first time there (It’s in NY, if I remember correctly?) and literally sat at the window staring in awe at it since it literally NEVER snows in the South

Gambit also was in a bit of awe, but not as much as Rogue.

He put a rock in a snowball and left it somewhere.

Jean doesn’t even need to use her telepathy, she just always knows when someone is planning to do something they know they shouldn’t so she just stares at them like “😐” .

Scott refuses to buy anything made from real leather or fur, only faux.

Beast gets hot very easily due to his fur, cause of this it’s like 60°F in the lab.

^^ Kurt is also in the same boat but less so. He HATES summer.

Beast and Kurt both hate summer because it’s hot and makes them sweat so their fur/fuzz gets all wet and makes them look like a porcupine-cat.

Charles leaves food & water out for the local stray cats and dogs. He also has like 8 bird feeders around the property (Birds.)

Ororo loves this (^^) and will sometimes sit on a bench and watch the birds. Birds have landed on her due to how still she goes sometimes.

Gambit never learned how to ride a bike without training wheels, just out of spite.

Beast hates alcohol.

Jean tans the best and easiest out of everyone, in the summer she has the nicest natural tan and it’s both impressive and irritating.

Logan grunts and growls obvs, but also lets out these weird kinda purrs? It sounds like if a cat smoked a pack a day for years, it’s a raspy quiet purr.

Rogue has a scar on her knee from some accident when she was kid (She changes her story every time, intentionally.)

Magneto, despite his mutation involving metal, is actually really good at wood-working.

Scott cannot fall asleep without some kind of white noise. HEAVY rain sounds is his fav.

Kurt is dyslexic.

Jean absolutely loves fall and all the “basic girl” things about it. Pumpkin spice, sweaters, etc (BTW THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT AND ANYONE WHO SAYS OTHERWISE IS JUST A JERK WHO HATES FUN.)

Gambit would own a pair of Ugg’s.

[adaines-furious-feast]

Side quest idea:

Big city detective (rogue) is given time off work to handle a personal mystery that has been bugging her for years. It takes her to a small, neighbouring town where the local police are absolutely useless (I promise this isn't going to be the plot of Hot Fuzz).

She discovers her personal mystery has become tied up in the lives of many of the residents here, including a nurse (cleric) and a teenage emo with memory problems (bard) who knows there's something about her past she just cannot reach.

While everything seems to be tied to this small town, there's also a connection to someone from the detective's home city, an elderly lady (ranger) with an extremely large dog companion.

They're all drawn together by something just beyond the edge of their knowledge that they're chasing.

The campaign eventually takes them to hell and the Bottomless Pit, where they realise that their identities were all stolen and crafted by an archdevil who has zero idea who any of them are.