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eyrieofsynapses · 1 year ago

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why Aurora's art is genius

It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.

And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.

I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.

SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???

All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3

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I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!

Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.

Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.

THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)

Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:

Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:

Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.

I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.

If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!

Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:

Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.

A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):

(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)

The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—

—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.

(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)

Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!

One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!

And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—

—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)

Additionally, the misting here:

We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.

A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).

Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):

First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:

The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.

The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.

The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.

A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:

The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)

The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart

The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand

The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)

I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.

Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:

Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.

Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)

And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.

Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.

Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):

It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:

Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.

And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.

One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.

A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.

Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?

Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):

The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:

What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P

Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):

They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.

Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.

And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3

...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.

#aurora comic #aurora webcomic #comicaurora #art analysis #...I hope those are the right tags???#new fandom new tagging practices to learn ig #much thanks for something to read while I try to rest my wrists. carpal tunnel BAD. (ignore that I wrote this I've got braces ok it's fine)#anyway! I HAVE. MANY MORE THOUGHTS. ON THE STORY ITSELF. THIS LOVELY STORY #also a collection of reactions to a chunk of the comic before I hit the point where I was too busy reading to write anything down #idk how to format those tho #...yeet them into one post...???#eh I usually don't go off this much these days but this seems like a smaller tight-knit fandom so... might as well help build it?#and I have a little more time thanks to break so #oh yes also shoutout to my insanely awesome professor for teaching me all the technical stuff from this he is LOVELY #made an incredibly complex program into something comprehensible <3 #synapse talks

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glamreapers · 10 months ago

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#I hope this is formatted right😖#marble hornets #tim wright #brian thomas #jay merrick #my post

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dailyclassicwho · 1 year ago

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DOCTOR WHO (1963) — 10.20 "Planet of the Daleks: Part Six"

#doctor who #classic who #third doctor era #planet of the daleks #third doctor #thals #dwedit #classicwhoedit #thirddoctoredit #gifs #mine #i was supposed to post this on jon pertwee's birthday #let's hope it stays in the right format this time

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affluent-havoc · 6 months ago

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toast man based off of THIS POST of mine

#danganronpa #danganronpa art #danganronpa fanart #danganronpa makoto #makoto naegi #wasn't entity sure how to format this one #hope this is okay!#was going to reblog the first post initally #might have been the right call there but i honestly dunno

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mcybree · 7 months ago

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I prepared this ask in the Notes app only for Tumblr to not let me copy and paste the text so here’s a screenshot bc I’m not typing all that again lol

there’s this funny trend i see in trafficblr art, in that, when there’s a lineup of every past winner, most players will be surrounded by symbols that were relevant to their POV, and perhaps drawn with the last emotion they’d felt just before death (or maybe just whatever emotion the artist most associates with the character). The winners might be doing something, or in a pose that reflects how they won—there are a million ways to make a life series winners’ piece. What’s funny about it is that no one ever seems to know what to do with Scott. He’s most often just standing there looking mildly disgruntled. And for the symbols he’s most depicted with, it’s typically poppies, which are only relevant to the first season; last life scott does not place any importance on poppies, poppies dont ever come up beyond a brief interaction in episode 1, and jimmy as a whole is less relevant to scott’s pov in last life than he is in every other season.

not that this is an issue with the art; the pieces are beautifully done, it’s just representative of how little fandom discussion there is about scott’s win thematically. Most discussion I see are about the watchers and how they hate scott for defying him or whatever, but watcher lore is not discussion of the series itself as much as it is a fan creation that is retroactively applied to create meaning.

Scott’s Last Life win, to me, was achieved through accomplishing what Third Life Scott could not.

Scott spent 3L waiting for his day one ally to die. He kept Jimmy at a distance, often fully gearing himself up first before backtracking to help Jimmy along. There’s a funny disparity in episode 5, where Jimmy spends the entire episode trying to get good enchants on his iron armor, while Scott sets up a villager and gets good enchants for the full diamond set that he’d already had in storage, in about half the time Jimmy took trying to accomplish his own goal, iirc. This disparity is also something scott acknowledges with the “I’ll always be more powerful than you” line, but it’s been a while since ive written a post like this so i unfortunately do not have the episode number memorized on that one anymore. But Scott goes on to explain that he’ll always have better armor and weapons, which is why Jimmy could never kill him. This is all to say that Jimmy and Scott do not stand on equal grounds in their alliance, and, more importantly, Scott does not depend on Jimmy. The progress Scott makes in Third Life is entirely his own, with Jimmy as more of an afterthought than a teammate.

This is what landed Scott his all time lowest placement. After Jimmy dies first, Scott loses sight of his priorities and dedicates his remaining time alive to avenging Jimmy, rather than focusing on his own longevity (like he’d go on to do in future seasons). And, in that way, Scott’s attitude towards Jimmy (disposable, going to die, unreliable) was an indirect contributor to Scott’s low placement.

In contrast: Scott could not have won Last Life without Pearl. Scott has to rely on Pearl from day 1, having only two lives to start with himself. Pearl gives Scott two lives total. Pearl and Scott are almost always together. They made it to the final four by each other’s side. And that forced day 1 reliance on pearl breaks down the role scott typically assumes (*he’s* supposed to be the person people rely on, he’s supposed to be the one bringing everything to the table) which curbs his tendency to see himself as above others, which then allows for the most genuine happiness i have ever seen him have in an alliance.

The comparison between the way Scott talks to Pearl and the way Scott talks to Jimmy is like night and day. Scott doesn’t compliment or otherwise say anything supportive towards Jimmy (save for the “I believe in you! MCC has trained you for this moment!” during Jimmy’s dare to flare attempt) until after Jimmy has already died. With Pearl, however, Scott is much more open about his care towards her, saying that she’s his best friend and that he loves her as early as episode 2. There’s more examples but between last life and third life, Scott’s attitude towards his primary ally is completely different, and i think it’s symptomatic of Scott allowing himself to love and be vulnerable rather than keeping himself at a distance. And i think that it’s so special that scott won the season where he was so close with his day one alliance, directly because of his day one alliance.

because, to me, one of scott’s defining characteristics is his self reliance. He will have allies, yes, but he often assumes a supportive role and acts as a supplier. He doesnt like taking things from other people. Last Life is different because Scott relies on Pearl, too. It’s also not a coincidence that last life is the only season where scott is normal about jimmy but that’s a different post

tldr yes scott won last life with the power of love but not in the way people say he did (ignoring the boogeyman curse was strategy ☝️)

I SHOULD NOTE, though, that the boogeyman curse was still a fail. Although purposeful, Scott receives the penalty and apologizes to his team. He says he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. I do think that his words here aren’t fully honest— he’d admitted earlier that this choice was fully for strategy. But I also think his apologetic attitude here is genuine. Scott is a perfectionist, he needs to succeed; failing, though purposeful, still hurts. He feels the need to apologize. It means so much to me that his win in last life directly follows the choice to fail on purpose. I’m insane though idk

third life scott embodies scotts flaws while last life scott is him overcoming them 👍 is what im trying to say 👍 last life scott is everything that third life scott could not bring himself to be, in allowing himself to love and depend on other people and overall just be a person.

#I couldve explained this way better but i came up with the thesis in the very last paragraph #And went ohhh. Well. The post is already written #So yes i could reformat this all and make it much more compelling by breaking down exactly what i think scotts flaws are through—#Series by series analysis #and then go on and use examples from ll to paint it as the antithesis of all that #all to put in a provable factual way just HOW different scott is in last life compared to other series #And how this aided him and eventually got him the win #But i think thats like. A whole essay?#im imagining an essay format. and i do not. want to write a whole essay right now #so im hoping this kind of shitty condensed version gets my point across #there is an annoying lack of citations but as stated i have not done a scott post in a while and dont have this shit as memorized #also its my birthday in 6 minutes can you believe it #asks #that.blue.mf

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fictionalsownme · 5 months ago

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More Than A Woman | wilford warfstache x gn!viewer / reader |

chapter one - "I've known you very well"

A/N: hi everyone!! I'm so excited to post this! Usually I spend a long time on the stuff I write but I wrote a good chunk of this in a feverish burst haha, I've been wanting to write for Wil and had such a clear idea of how I see him in my head for so long :)) This fic will probably be around 10 chapters~ish and progress will probably be a little slow but I'm also trying to get faster at my writing so I guess we'll see! Getting it down is always the hardest, then you spend a bit of time hating it, then the fixing can start! Anyway, I hope you guys like this, I love this dorky weirdo a lot for whatever reason, and I'd love to write for other egos too :) ((there might be a guest appearance or two in here in the last few chapters if plans don't change 👀)) hope you guys enjoy the first chapter at least! lmk 🥰! word count: 2.9k notes: reader is gender-neutral, similar to all of mark's stuff :) -- the title is just after the song! no pronouns or descriptors are used other than the occasional they/them. reader is the viewer (& district attorney) from wkm, adwm, ahwm, iswm, etc, but that won't come up until later. wmlw wilford. story will be mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort & angst, lots of romance and flirting! story is adapted from an idea I had for my self insert. we will get into some lore stuff (or at least my understanding of the lore 👀) and filling in gaps with headcannons, but it's mostly about wilford & reader and I'll try to explain as we go so don't worry about it too much if you don't know all of it. especially since I don't know if my understanding is always 100% accurate 👉👈 let's have fun yall! 💞

masterlist | AO3

The music playing softly over the convenience store speakers was pleasant, if slightly boring. Like elevator music— there only to help ease the passing of time. Your night shift would end soon, and the sky could be seen as it lightened more every minute through the windowed front of the building.

Other than that, the old store was quiet. Dusty. Pink and orange neon strips lined the walls near the ceiling. They overpowered the dated fluorescent lights, casting everything in a slightly peach haze. Like a dream.

Different sections of the store were marked with neon too, the letters glowed against the wall denoting the drinks, the snacks, the hot food… You liked your little store. Even if the unyielding isolation of your work made you a bit… complacent. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly talked with someone.

The ice creams chilled your fingers through the wrappers as you pulled them from their box and slotted them into place. Even with the cold air of the freezer wafting over you, you could smell the cool summer air coming in the sliding front doors.

You liked to prop them open on dawns like these. The convenience store lights did draw in the occasional pestering bug, but they usually found their way out again before long. You did get a bat once. Albeit a little crazed and frantic, you were surprised to find it harmless. Maybe a little lost. Now that thing seemed like it would never leave.

Refocusing on your task, you brushed your condensation-soaked fingers on your work apron, tied tight behind your neck and around your back, and shut the freezer door.

The motion alert chimed a pleasant tune through the staticky old speakers as a customer entered the open doors from the street.

You called an automatic, “Welcome in~,” and went about straightening a shelf of snack bars and chocolate. You didn’t bother to look in their direction as you heard them make their way through the aisles.

“Pardon me,” said their strange, nearly British accent from beside you now. You turned to the source of the voice, the man who’d just walked in, and your eyes went to his outfit first.

A silky-- almost sparkly in how it caught the light-- lavender shirt with mismatched buttons revealed expanses of his bare chest. It was paired with white bell-bottoms and a fake pink afro hanging half-off his head, about to fall off. He had olive skin and dark hair-- nearly black--, fluffy and sticking up every which way like hands had been running through it. Scruffy facial hair framed a thick mustache that tinted slightly pink where it turned up at the ends.

He looked… honestly, he looked ridiculous. But the 70s getup was fun, you supposed. And his eyes-- dark brown and monolid-- were handsome. Underneath all the… extra mess. You blinked, slowly, in a way that felt like waking up.

“Uh, hi. Are you coming from a costume party or something?” It was August, but you supposed it was never too early to start the spooky season.

“Oh! Do you know of one? I do love a good costume. But no. Just the regular-sort. Just woke up from one.” He scanned the products near his head, grabbed a protein bar, sniffed the wrapper, guffawed, and put it back.

“You just woke up? Are you alright?”

“Oh, worry not, friend, this is normal for my level of reverie! I’m not even hungover!” He laughed, his hands going to his hips.

You stared at him.

“I was just looking for something to gnaw on! To nourish myself before I’m on my way.” His eyes were still traveling all over, not really seeing you.

Now in theory, a strange man coming in at this hour, acting even stranger, with his clothes disheveled? You knew you should be on your way to your safe space behind the counter to get him checked out and exiting the store as fast as possible. But there was something about him…

Something you couldn’t place…

Instead you raised your eyebrows and relaxed against the cooler door. “Uh, I guess that depends on what kind of food you like,” You offered. After a moment, his gaze landed on you and he seemed to finally take you in. Your uniform, your crossed arms, your patient expression, your features. His face scrunched into confusion.

A moment passed, staring at each other like that. “Your shirt’s looking a little rough, you know.”

“Have we met, friend?” He asked as he began to fix his buttons.

You watched passively as more of his chest came into view. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind your blatant staring. You weren’t sure why you were staring, or what you were feeling as you did so.

You weren’t gawking at his abs or anything-- well,-- not that he didn’t have abs. He did, sort of. The expanse of his chest and abdomen were tight with toned muscle. He definitely wasn’t lacking abs, anyway. Either way… this was about something different.

You wondered for a moment if a vague familiarity was what you were picking up on, but quickly dismissed it.

“I feel like I’d remember meeting you.”

You realized with a start that your comment could be seen as flirtatious, and added quickly, “Just, you know-- generally.”

But he just hummed and spun on his heels, turning away. You sighed and found yourself in-step behind him, hands in your uniform pockets. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well, either way!” He started, his energy returning tenfold. “Let's see what this cute little shop has to eat!”

For some reason, you asked, “Do you have money?”

He froze. “Er, no~. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?”

“Well, spotting me of course! Let’s just say I owe you one, eh friend?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Thought so.”

Thought so? Maybe you did know him…

It was your turn to squint in displaced confusion. “What’s your name?”

His voice came from behind you and you spun around, your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. When did he sneak around you?

He bent over and twirled his hand, a flamboyant bow finally knocking the afro off his head. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

“That’s your name?”

He righted himself. ��For now.” It suited him well enough, but for some reason it sounded misplaced.

… But no, either way, you definitely hadn’t met him before. You didn’t know many people in the first place, let alone someone so eccentric.

Still, you were curious about him. Curious about his personality and who he was. He felt sort of like a puzzle waiting to be solved. And so far, despite his quirks, despite how admittedly weird you’d also been acting, he’d been friendly. You couldn’t say the staring and prodding questions were too in-character for you. At least not when it came to customers.

His hair looked softer without the wig to weigh it down-- parted at his brow and long enough to fluff over the tips of his ears and end where his neck met his spine. You reached down to scoop the curly mop of synthetic hair up off the floor.

“Where did you get this thing?”

He hummed something like ‘I don’t know’, his eyes sort of wide like a clueless puppy’s.

“What, you just kind of have it?”

“Yea’p.”

You squinted at him, a smirk forming on your lips. “How about I do you a favor and throw this away?”

He shrugged, hummed an ‘alright’ sound, and turned away.

“Oh no, I was kidding! God, here--!” You had to grab his wrist to stop him from wandering off further and placed the pink afro in his hand.

You had just been trying to tease him, but now you just felt bad. “Look, Wilford, you want something to eat? We have to throw the hot food out every night. You can have a taquito or a slice of pizza or something if you want.”

Then he was frozen again-- staring down at where your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Your eyes followed his gaze down and then you were staring too.

A moment passed. Then two. Finally, you let go and crossed your arms again, tucking your hands away where they couldn’t embarrass you again.

“... Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that.” You did your best to clear your throat.

But he was still stuck there. He blinked a few times and his gaze met your eyes, his brows gathering together.

“Wh-What did you say your name was, friend?” He seemed so… serious all of sudden. So dire.

You hadn’t mentioned it yet, but told him with a hesitant voice.

His expression blanked, eyes widening. He brought his arm, the offending afro in tow, to his chest, touching his wrist where you’d held it.

“Oh…”

You raised your brows and asked softly, “Sorry, do you know me, then?”

“Hm?” And he blinked like his mind was clearing, like he’d forgotten you were there.

He cleared his throat, smiled-- ear to ear-- his mustache lopsided like a cartoon. “Oh-- nevermind about that! Some food would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sparkling.

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing fancy. Here,” And you walked over towards the front counter. Wilford trailed close behind you-- holding onto the wig in his hands like a school kid holding a lunch box-- his gaze wandering over the store again like he hadn’t seen it the first time.

You arrived at the hot foods section, a glassed-off section of day-old food over heated rods. You shrugged. “If you have a sensitive stomach, maybe don’t,” you started, “but it’s mostly fine to be honest. I eat it if I’m in a pinch, you know.”

You hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs facing Wilford, and leaned back to reach around and grab the tongs waiting there. You straightened and clapped them together twice. You offered him a smile. “What’ll it be, Mr. Warfstache?” Then a quieter, “--that was your last name right?”

“Do you gravitate towards anything yourself?”

“Can’t go wrong with a slice of pizza, I guess. Even here.”

His smile grew sort of soft. “Then that. If you please.”

“You got it.”

You leaned over again and served up the slice of moderately warm and slightly greasy pizza on a brown napkin and passed it off to him.

“Much obliged.”

You got one for yourself too, and when you righted and your eyes found Wilford again, he was sitting in a retro-style diner chair you’d never seen before-- his feet against the edge of the counter beside you.

You couldn’t help the surprised laughter that choked out of you. “Wha-- where did you even find that?”

The chair teetered on its two legs as he leaned precariously back, tilting his head at your question. The pink wig sat in his lap and you couldn’t help thinking it looked like some weird dog.

“Well, there’s no need to worry! I’m only borrowing it, I’m not a barbarian.”

And you just knew you weren’t getting more of an answer than that.

“So who even are you?” You asked as he took a bite of the pizza, somehow pulling all the cheese right off the top in one piece. He pouted down at the offending mozzarella, slurping it into his mouth and swallowing it. “Do you live around here?”

“Mm. I don’t really live anywhere. Much more the exploring-- ever on the move-- type.”

He was so expressive. It really felt like talking to an old cartoon come-to-life or something. You turned to lean against the side of the glass cover, swinging your legs so your feet rested on the counter, not far from his still against the edge. You weren’t touching at all, but you were surprised at how quickly the two of you fell into a casual-- albeit timidly curious-- rhythm.

“So what do you do?” And you began to eat too.

He beamed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’m an interviewer! Warfstache Tonight, that’s what my show is called! It’s quite a professional endeavor!”

You smiled and hummed around your bite of pizza, impressed. That actually explained a lot. And it suited him nicely enough. “Sounds pretty glamorous.”

“And what about you? You can’t just be a convenience store clerk!” He seemed so affronted by the idea. Crinkling his nose, dropping his voice an octave. “How dreadfully boring.”

You winced. “‘Just a convenience store clerk?’ Ouch, Wilford…” You couldn’t help frowning down at your slice.

“Oh! No no, pardon me!” He let the chair fall back to four legs, waving the idea way with a panicked hand. “I only meant that… this isn't what truly stirs your passions, is it? Do you do anything at your leisure? For work or just… something you enjoy?”

You squinted at him. But you didn’t really think he was trying to insult you. And he wasn’t wrong. It just… wasn’t always the most fun when someone pointed it out. Especially like that.

You sighed, fidgeting as you considered his question. “Not right now… This job keeps me pretty occupied. But you know, it’s not too bad. It keeps me, I don’t know, grounded I guess.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, taking another bite. “I do hope you get more opportunities soon, then.” He said, surprisingly grounded.

You looked at him. “... Thanks.” And you meant it.

“And… my apologies for the earlier, uh, miswording.”

“That’s fine… I’d be curious to hear more about your show, though! Have you interviewed anyone interesting or anything?”

A beat. A sort of tiredness settled into his shoulders and he peered up at you. “The odd gold-star guest did wander in from time to time. I’m not sure if my skills were quite deserving of them at the time.”

Was that… shame?

“The truth is, I couldn’t quite live up to the role. I--” He laughed, pained. He cleared his throat. “I’m taking a bit of a break from show business for the moment.”

Ah. So that’s what happened. You offered him a sympathetic smile. “To party? That’s probably why you don’t have any money, Wilford. And why you have to rely on shitty convenience store food?” You held up your greasy napkin like it was evidence.

“Now don’t underestimate the power of a good party! And this food is fine, I’m grateful for it,” He crumpled the now empty napkin and gestured wildly with it. “The truth is I get by just fine. I’m just not sure what else I should be doing.”

You looked out the front windows. The sky was getting lighter. The timer marking the end of your shift would go off any minute.

So maybe that’s why he’d been asking you about your passions. You felt bad for him. He was strange, to be sure. And a little hard to follow. But he was also… sweet. He had a softness about him.

And still… there was that feeling that hadn’t disappeared since meeting him. Like… like your soul recognized him. Maybe not deeply. But distantly. Like you’d met him in a dream. It was a ridiculous notion. Ridiculous didn’t seem beyond his territory.

You turned, legs coming down from the counter once again. You leaned forward, your hand landing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. His silk shirt was soft under your fingers. His eyes jumped up to yours and you looked down at him with a smile.

“You liked doing your show right? You want to be an interviewer?”

He nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered.

“Then that’s what you should be doing! You just have to try again!” You shrugged with one shoulder. “It might suck a lot. And you might fail again. But pick yourself back up. Keep going. I’m sure you can do it if you keep at it and think outside the box, you know. Failing only means failing if you stop.”

You leaned back, your hand sliding away. He stared at you.

“That’s what the rest of us do, anyway. Honestly, maybe you should do your show online! You know, livestream it or something. I’m sure you’d find your own way to it.”

Slowly, a smile crept back in, the corners of his eyes creasing.

“What a wonderful idea…”

God, his eyes…

You looked down at your own napkin, laughing a little at yourself. “Wilford, I promise, the advice I just gave you was nothing crazy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a little too rare that I get a pick-me-up.”

You hopped down from the counter. “Swing by whenever, I’ll hand them out for free. Though, if you’re always on the move, I guess you’re probably not in town for long, huh?”

He quickly followed your lead and stood, his chair nearly falling in his haste. “Uh— w-well I, I don’t know, I could always… linger for a day or two. Hard to say really.”

“Uh huh.” You smirked at him, raising your brows. “Well, if that constant partying you have going on brings you back here, feel free stop in, okay? … It’d be nice to have someone in here every once in a while. Well, someone friendly, anyway.”

“Right. Will do. Of course.”

You gave him two solid pats on the chest and turned to throw the napkins away behind the counter. When you turned to face him again, he was gone. Only slightly confused, you quickly recovered and yelled a quick, “bye~!” to the now empty store.

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clowningaroundmars · 11 months ago

Text

morales twins hcs

i'm absolutely in love with the idea of miles42 and miles1610 being twins, i'm so glad most of the fandom has basically adopted 42 lmao

some of my own twins headcanons, just random stuff to add onto other ppls hcs ive seen:

☆ 42 loves his mamí absolutely but def acts the most like his dad, and haaaates when anyone points it out. it's the most obvious when 42 gets mad, he sounds EXACTLY like his father then lol

☆ in fact, the twins polar opposite personalities is probs bc 1610 takes after his mom's temperament more, while 42 is as stoic, stubborn and slightly dorky as his dad is

☆ whenever the boys made each other cry (by accident or otherwise) they did the typical little kid thing and tried immediately comforting the other. now that they're older 1610 handles his emotions better and is mature when talking about them, but 42 is the one who comforts 1610 more often

more below ↓

☆ as well as staying on top of his academics, 42 also plays basketball and trains in a couple martial arts studios after school. 1610 is taller than 42 bc of the spider bite but 42 has always been slightly bigger and more muscular than 1610 since he's the athlete. whenever the family attends 42's boxing matches, jeff gets an overwhelming sense of deja vu from back when he attended his own brother's matches before

☆ they both got thru school p okay, not many incidents of bullying mostly bc if anyone did try, 42 would put a stop to that nonsense immediately. 42 loves his bro with his whole heart and was glad to pick a fight with anyone who gave him any trouble at all. the whole neighborhood knew it too bc the only person allowed to bully 1610 is 42 himself!

☆ in fact, 42 doesn't win the lottery to enter visions in the first place, which saddened both brothers when they found out. so because they're at separate schools now, 42 makes sure his twin knows that if any fuckery is afoot at visions that he'd be more than happy to roll up and dogwalk any fool who tries it. 1610 laughs him off but knows his bro has got his back for sure

☆ 42 likes to pretend 1610 is the nerdy one, but they are both very big anime and manga nerds. every time they hit up any bookstore, they both make a beeline for the manga section and argue over who's gonna read the newest one first (they have to share cuz those books cost some moneeyyyy, man)

☆ 1610 and 42 love their uncle to pieces, OFC. they both pick up separate traits from him, even. 42 was inspired to start martial arts and boxing from watching videos on old digital cameras that aaron hung onto thru the years. they were of a much younger aaron back in his boxing days, when his family went to his matches and recorded them from the seats. 1610 was inspired to pick up graffiti and then even started doodling in notebooks bc of aaron

☆ 1610 is def the social butterfly and easily the most popular kid on the block by virtue of how friendly and outgoing he is. 42 is more introverted and keeps a small circle of friends, but everyone is cool with him nonetheless since they fuck with his twin bro

☆ since 42 stays at home the most (lol he a homebody) he picks up cooking much better than 1610 thanks to him staying in the kitchen to help his mom make dinner while they watch telenovelas together. 42 also knows how to dance bachata and salsa much better than 1610 too

☆ both twins love physics and math but 42 is more hardware-inclined. 1610 is about software, data, and formulas. 42 is good at taking things apart, putting things together, building and engineering. he kinda takes after his uncle aaron that way, and drove his parents nuts as a lil kid when he got his hands on radios, computers, clocks, etc

☆ 1610 loves softer brighter music like JID, steve lacy, smino, frank ocean, kid cudi, post malone, and nujabes. 42 is always bumping harder shit like pop smoke, waka flocka, zillakami, three 6 mafia, benny the butcher and some oldies like paul wall, wu tang clan, biggie smalls, MF DOOM and big KRIT. they tease each other's music tastes a lot since they're polar opposites in almost every way

☆ they actually have a shared playlist where they add new music they like (probs on some e-1610 spotify or soundcloud equivalent since everything is slightly skewed on e-1610 tbh). both of them check it periodically, and 42 is the more frequent contributor

☆ they both make art but 1610 is the artsier kid for sure. 42 doodles occasionally but he's not as enthusiastic about it as his twin is. they both go around the city tagging walls whenever they have any free time, though. 1610 loves colors, expressive styles and is good at coming up with cool ways to draw text. 42's lines, accuracy and technical skill can never be beat

☆ 1610 has superpowers, sure, but his fighting skills are trash! 42 was always the scrappy one, not 1610, so he shows his twin how to properly throw punches and other useful fighting knowledge. it def comes in handy in the future

☆ jeff loves his sons to death but he often finds himself butting heads the most with 42 since they're so similar, it kinda drives them both nuts. it def gets worse once aaron starts gossiping abt what jeff used to be like when they were kids, giving 42 plenty of ammo. they love each other but their relationship is just as complicated as it is between jeff and 1610, and 42 would be lying if he said he wasn't affected by the rift between his dad and uncle himself

☆ the minute the twins turn 16, 42 goes out and gets his drivers license on the first try (computer quiz AND road test aced) and rubs it in 1610's face almost constantly. 1610 likes to throw back that there's no parking space for another car on their block, so he can't even get his own car even if he wanted to anyways

☆ whenever the boys really fight, the whole city seems to know. they squabble a lot obvi, they're brothers. but the very few times they've given each other the silent treatment like for real, everyone in the family tries to get them to make up since it's unsettling to see two peas in a pod be so hostile with each other

☆ and since they've always been attached at the hip, 1610 being enrolled into visions felt. weird. everyone thought 1610 was gonna take it the hardest but surprisingly 42 had a harder time adjusting since he always saw his bro in the hallways at school, and was so used to him knowing the latest gossip of anybody in their grade. without 1610 around as often, 42 becomes even more withdrawn than usual

rio looks up from the pot suddenly, glancing at the time. dinner was almost ready and she… hadn't seen not hide nor tail of her son this evening. he returned home from school a couple hours earlier, choosing to skip going to his boxing class to shut himself in his room.

fine. teenagers can be moody sometimes and rio would rather keep her moody son at home where she can keep an eye on him, rather than worry about what he's getting up to on the streets.

strange thing is, though... rio hadn't heard a single noise come out of that room all night. 42 usually liked to have at least some music playing, maybe video game noises out of his nintendo... oh, what was it called again? whatever, that nintendo thing he played on sometimes.

rio placed the lid on the pot and lowered the flame a bit before making her way over to her twin sons' bedroom door, hesitating a bit when she noticed no light was filtering out from the bottom either. okay... that was weird, too. neither of her sons ever went to bed before dinner. ever.

the one time rio dared to try and send her sons to bed without dinner years ago-- as punishment for fighting right there in the kitchen that time-- both twins hollered so loud they got concerned knocks on their front door from various different neighbors. never again, rio remembered thinking that time.

now, the bedroom door stands oddly quiet and completely hollow without any signs of life behind it. rio knocked anyways, hoping against hope itself that 42 didn't go ahead and sneak out of the house without her knowledge. if he did sneak out, he's grounded for 3 months, rio thinks to herself mostly as reassurance. she nervously picks at a nail and strains to hear anything behind the wood.

she thinks she hears a groan and decides to try her luck by slowly opening the door. hopefully he's not in there... y'know, doing teenage boy things, either. dios mío.

rio swings the door open to...

...a completely pitch-black room, save for the sliver of streetlight filtering in past a crack in the window curtains and casting an eerie yellow glow on anything it could touch. it is cold, and also deathly quiet.

rio is shocked.

she walks over to the right side of the room where 42's bed is pushed up against the corner, next to the windows. on that bed lies a big lump, buried under several layers of blankets. the lump stirs.

rio crosses her arms. "mijo, mi amor. are you sleeping? …pero qué te pasa, papí?"¹

42 rolls onto his back and glares sleepily at his concerned mother standing at his bedside. it's dark in the room, but rio's face is illuminated by the living room lights pouring in from the open door. she's wearing a tilted smile, but coupled with the worry lines on her forehead, it isn't fooling anyone.

42 slowly closes his eyes, chin still under the covers, and lets out the most world-weary sigh rio has ever heard coming out of someone as young as him. if it weren't coming from her own son, she might have even laughed.

she immediately sits down, lifting the cover off of 42's chin to check his temperature all over his face. he tries to wriggle away.

"maaaaaa, stop..." he grumbles, trying to pull the covers up higher over his head. "'m not sick, mamí, forreal… chill."

rio leans on a hand. "¿si no 'ta enfermó pues qué es?² what's wrong?"

42 doesn't answer for a bit and rio exhales through her nose. " 'moré, what are you doing in this pitch-black room all by yourself? no light, no music, no nothing. what's wrong? you look like you're on a death bed!"

42 finally opens his eyes again, and blinks a few times as he says, "nothing, ma. seriously, i'm just... tired. that's all. i'm fine."

"you don't look 'fine' 42, you look like 2 seconds away from flatlining."

another sigh from the boy. rio rolls her eyes and places her hand on his forehead again, then strokes his cheek.

"is it 1610? hmm?" rio asks 42. she asks so unbelievably gently, as if by only mentioning his brother's name she would shatter something in the room. a mirror or something.

42's heart clenches at the love and care his mother is showing around this particular topic. it was true, and he couldn't even deny it. having 1610 in the house less and less every week, not seeing him in the hallways at their local high school, receiving sparser and shorter replies to his texts... it was all building up in his chest and the dam was pretty close to bursting. especially now as his mom was lovingly stroking his cheek as she checked in with him. how embarassing. rio wouldn't see him cry, not right now. he closed his eyes and willed the tears away, for her sake.

miraculously, 42's voice didn't crack or waver when he said, "yeah. yeah, i miss 'im."

rio crooned something saccharine in spanish and placed a kiss on her son's forehead. she saw right through his cold tough guy act, as expected. with how much of a mama's boy 42 was, it would've been impossible not to. they spent way too much time together for her to miss how he dragged his feet getting ready for school in the mornings, how he's been skipping martial arts and basketball practice more often lately, and how unenthusiastic he's been in general.

rio chuckles as she lays her cheek on 42's forehead for a second before sitting back up. "ay, bendito. 42, you know your brother is just down a few blocks from here. why don't you go visit him soon?"

42 shuffles under the covers. he's unsure if he should even admit this, but he proceeds anyways. "uhm. he's not answering my texts lately, so." he feels strangely guilty about this, like he just snitched on his twin somehow even though he has no reason to suspect that at all.

rio sighs and looks off into the distance, bracing herself for what she's about to say. she looks back down. "yeah. i know. he doesn't answer mine, either. i was hoping he was talking to you, but... well. "

something in 42 stirs a bit. "i bet he thinks he's in some fancy private school, around rich kids, now he's too good for us," it's a weak attempt at a joke, but rio smiles down at him anyways.

"don't worry. the second he gets home this weekend, he's on house arrest. okay? he's gonna be chained to you the whoooole time. and i'm keepin' watch."

it's not much, but 42 still takes that little bit of hope and holds it gently in his mind.

"the second he walks through that door, i'm tackling him. i don't care." 42 smiles at the thought.

rio laughs, kisses his forehead again and stands up. "dinner is almost ready, by the way." she gives him a look. "you better eat with me tonight, because your brother is at school and your dad is doing overtime tonight. okay? okay."

42 sighs deeply to wake himself up a bit more as he sits up and scratches at his durag. "yeah, yeah. 'm comin', ma!"

¹ "but what is going on with you, papí?" (papí being a common term of affection for a boy in spanish, it doesn't always mean "dad" lol)

² "if you're not sick, then what is it?"

☆ until they get "too old" for halloween, the morales twins ALWAYS wear matching costumes. every year. every single year, no matter what. what they usually end up wearing changes every year and they aaaaaalways argue over it, of course. notable costumes so far: batman and superman (age 13), two ninja turtles (age 9) (im thinking mikey and donatello bc of personality but lbr rio most likely forbade either of them to be leonardo bc the twins would deadass get into a fist fight over it), tom and jerry (age 2), mario and luigi (age 7), woody and buzz (age 5), peter pan and captain hook (age 10), and-- rio's favorite-- thing 1 and thing 2 (age 4)

☆ 42 was surprisingly always very popular with the girls at school. in middle school, 1610 was the geeky one with braces and acne. 42 got off relatively easy in that regard and as a result was labeled "a heartbreaker" from the jump, which annoyed him. he has no interest in dating whatsoever and swore to never get into a relationship before graduating high school. he's got his mom and brother to take care of and he's going places after high school, damnit! 1610 on the other hand is a huge romantic and has a crush on a new person almost every year of school, easily

☆ the literal second 1610 set foot in the house after his spider bite, 42 was all over him asking a million questions since they both have that supernatural twintuition, and 42 sussed him out immediately. 1610 obviously had to come clean and tell his brother he was spiderman just like he told ganke, otherwise he was never gonna be able to change into his spider suit at home (plus they share a room, so. there's that)

1610 didn't even get to close their bedroom door all the way before his twin leaped up from his own bed and stalked over.

"óye, bro. what's up? what happened at visions?" 42 circled his brother, squinty-eyed in the exact same way their mom is when she's suspicious. 1610 dropped his bag next to his bed and plopped down on his sheets, trying to put some distance between them.

"uhhhh what're you talkin' about?" he tries casually, and immediately regrets it.

"uhhhhh what're you talkin' about?" 42 mocks. "don't play dumb with me. you KNOW what i'm talkin' about, stupid. first, you answer, like, none of my texts ever. then dad comes home sayin' you never let him talk face-to-face when he visited you a couple days ago. mamí has been texting and calling you nonstop, no answer either. you are a brand new person now, huh? qué te pasa, yo?"

1610 hunched his shoulders as he got up and slumped over to his desk. he was quietly weighing his options, nervously rearranging papers and sketches on the wooden table, wondering how he was going to break it to his brother that he was--

"lemme guess. you have superpowers now," 42 says easily. he crosses his arms triumphantly when big round amber eyes suddenly turn up to his face.

1610 searches his face for any hint of a joke. no... no way. did his brother just...?

"you're playin' with me. no way. how did you--?"

42's eyes widen. "wait, are you being deadass right now?" he threw his head back and crowed with laughter. "that was just a guess!"

1610 leaped forward and pushed his hand onto 42's mouth, shutting him up. "heeyyy hey hey hey hey shhhhh, man. damn, could you possibly be any louder? look," he took his twin by the shoulders and gave him a slight shake, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "mom and dad can never know anything about this. okay? anything. not a word, you understand?"

42 pushes his brother off. "ok-ay man, cool it. i promise. we can shake on it, even."

wordlessly, they did their super secret handshake they came up with and perfected in the 4th grade in lieu of hooking their pinkies together. it was the morales shake, a move that binds them to secrecy and keeping promises til death. this was serious business. 1610 relaxes a bit once they're done.

"... okay. and i mean it, pencil braids. if you even breathe a word about this, or even think about--!"

"if you don't just tell me already, goddamn."

with a meaningful look thrown at his brother's way, 1610 raises an arm silently. 42 looks back expectantly.

1610 shoots a web up. he jumps up, using the web as a bungee rope to help him flip and land feet-first onto the ceiling. once his sneakers touch their ceiling, he stands up... upside-down. he stares at his brother and his brother stares back, mouth agape.

"niiiiiiice," 42 leans back and grins up at his twin brother, spiderman.

☆ 1610 is glad he has someone besides ganke to talk to about spiderman stuff, though. his brother listens way more attentively than his roommate anyways, and even tries to help sometimes esp when 1610 needs a quick distraction so he can switch from spiderman back into his regular clothes before the parents notice

☆ 42 is surprisingly cool abt his twin bro being spiderman, actually. even when they're texting 42 is careful not to imply 1610 is spiderman, and often calls stuff in to the police station if 1610 webs anyone up and lets him know. he also gets very good at bandaging up wounds quickly

☆ 42 is a hardass on the outside and contains his emotions much better than his twin, but he's kinda different around his family, since he loves them a lot. he jokes around a lot with them, esp around 1610. they also love pranking their parents, and are p creative at coming up with ways to make everyone laugh

☆ i personally picture 42's personality being sort of like huey's from the boondocks, especially around other adults. he becomes withdrawn and speaks very clearly and directly, and is very shy around strangers. some ppl mistake that as him having an attitude problem but his friends and family know better. only difference between huey and 42 is that 42 isn't nearly as woke lmfao

☆ meanwhile, 1610 becomes a motormouth around strangers and is quick to hug and kiss random family members at family reunions. as a lil kid, he'd always be the one up at the counter ordering for the both of them and chatting with the cashiers, or bus drivers, or whoever. as he gets older and used to the spiderman thing, he chats and jokes with randoms a lil less. he has to save the good material for when the mask is on

☆ 42 is a better writer than he is an artist, actually. he has notebooks filled with poetry and lyrics he scribbles down on post-it notes just to stick them in there for safekeeping. he's also been working on a sci-fi story since he was in 6th grade in absolute secrecy; he doesn't want a single soul to see it. he'd be mortified if anyone saw the nerdy shit he comes up with

☆ even tho 1610 has never fought anyone or been scrappy with anyone else, he's very good at wrestling and dodging punches thanks to his brother.

☆ 42 is the more fashion-inclined twin, even tho they're both sneakerheads. 42 just pays more attention to accessories, the fit of his clothing, how to pair the right shoes with the right jacket. 1610 throws on anything comfortable and calls it a day, and it gets even worse after he becomes spiderman. 42 clowns his brother SO HARD after he finds him wearing yellow sweatpants with an oversized red adidas hoodie and a green puffer jacket once (it was when 1610 came home from fighting a shapeshifting lizard that tried to take over cypress hills. the sweatpants were on backwards)

☆ 1610's sense of humor is geeky and he always tries too hard with his quips and jokes. he usually gets "secondhand embarrassment" chuckles from ppl. 42's style of comedy is a mix of dry humor and unintentionally being funny. this dude will say something clever with the straightest face ever and have the ENTIRE room in stitches without even meaning to

☆ just to nail home how different they are, even tho they share a room, you can tell EXACTLY which half of their room begins and ends. 1610's half is cluttered, vibrant, covered in posters and action figures, collages and trinkets on every available surface. 42's is as clean as a hospital room, and he ALWAYS makes his bed every morning. 42 has a poster or 2 hung up but he's not much for decorating in general. he's more into alphabetizing his bookshelf and looking for more efficient storage to put under his bed

☆ when jeff looks at his sons, he sees aaron and himself and sometimes it scares him. when the boys were around 12 (the Evil Year) he made SURE to sign them up for camp trips that summer and keep them close together as much as possible. he hates to see his boys drift apart at all and is the 1st one to call it out if he sees it. he just doesn't want his boys to end up like he and his brother did…

☆ … and then other times? it genuinely makes him feel a combination of irritation and also fondness bc sometimes 1610 and 42 really really remind him of aaron and himself, esp when they were young. ESPECIALLY when they argue. in every playful slap on the shoulder, every arbitrary competition started out of nowhere, every sleepy brother slowly sliding onto the other's shoulder during nighttime car rides, he sees it. he sees them, and then he sees his past. and with every little difference between the boys slowly cracking open like a chasm with each passing day, sometimes he thinks he can even see his future.

☆ 42 is cool or whatever but i also hc he's kinda… weird sometimes. it gets worse when his twin bro goes off to visions, he keeps staring at walls while sitting in dark rooms and eating at weird hours of the day. rio caught him fast asleep practically hanging off the window sill one night, and another time jeff found him having an entire conversation with a brick wall once while on patrol. 42 refuses to answer any questions

☆ after 1610 gets into visions, becomes spiderman, tells his parents abt his plans to go to princeton, etc... 42 eventually starts feeling a type of way (a jealous way…) their parents also seem to pay attention to 1610 more whenever he's home just to add insult to injury. he knows he's not supposed to, but he often finds himself thinking about the prowler gloves and schematics aaron left behind. he managed to grab them and hide them in a gym bag one day while helping his parents clear out aaron's apartment. the tech currently lives under his bed…

#across the spiderverse #spiderverse #miles morales #miles g morales #BOY that sure is a lot to read huh. well. if u read all this here's a heart ♡#can u tell i am Not Normal abt these two #esp wrt them being potential parallels to their father and uncle.........#i can scream FOREVER abt this #the morales family always has me All Up In My Feels man #also LOL @ me writing fanfic again in this post #what can i say...... i guess i can't help it lol #i just love these two they are my babies............#also guess how many times i went and started writing “miles” for 1610 before having to backspace after realizing #yea thats right. Too Many Times #anyways hopes this like uhhh reads okay. the formatting might be weird cuz i had to copy n paste this from my notes app #but i think its cool. i hope #hope yall enjoy aallll of this lol #mi writing

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callmelyc · 1 year ago

Text

✨My 2023 KL Fic faves ✨💞

(Aka my fic wrapped....some of it I read way too many I have 300+ pages of history ok)

This is my list from Twitter that contains:

- Fic Rereads

-New to me reads (recs etc.)

-New to the fandom in 23 reads

All fics hand-picked that I've read and loved (or thought about) alot this year! So let's do this 💫

•Disclaimer: this list contains a mix of ratings for fics so pls pay attention to ratings if you'd like to avoid NSFW•

✨. You don't have to say I love you by XRider

Rated G

-forbidden love, childhood trauma but a happy ending (also mute lance!)

-alt universe non canon/no voltron

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45973999/chapters/115719643

💫. Life Sound by savemeaplate

Rated E (NSFW)

- prince Klance, enemies to friends to Lovers, non human Lance

-medieval fantasy setting, no voltron

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395438/chapters/69578217

✨. Lifeline by peachyaslans

Rated T

-soulmates, shared injuries, friends to Lovers

-pre-canon & canon divergent

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/51176287

💫. Due West by europa_report

Rated T

-secret relationship, angst, Krolia & Lance bonding

-post S6, canon divergent

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/15588417

✨. Home by erinwantstowrite

Rated T

-canon rewrite, alien lance, team as family

- a revamped canon universe that's currently ongoing

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/38455249

💫. How long can this love hold it's breath? by artimess_chimes

Not rated no NSFW

-love letters, mutual pinning, denial of feelings

-canon universe, BOM era Keith

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/50344408

(y'all knew this was coming I shouted about it as it updated on twit):

✨. My soul has your claim, my soul is in flames by TellyMauve

Rated T

-confess or be trapped, love confessions, not actually unrequited love

-canon universe, canon divergent s7

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/46906135

✨.status rouge by perfchan

Rated E (NSFW)

-lance skincare shenanigans, getting together, crack treated seriously

-post canon universe, cracked me up the situations are ridiculous in the best ways

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/48173959

💫. Insomnia by viren_writes

Rating E (NSFW)

-mating rituals, jealous Keith (I love this tag), aliens made em do it

-canon universe, post s6

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/21502387

💫. Challenger of the maze by erinwantstowrite

Rated T

-smart lance, team as family, lance arc

-canon like universe, lance centric with hints of kl

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/38368447

✨. I killed sendak for this by hiuythn

Rated T

-humor, husbands and temp amnesia

-post canon universe, very sweet

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659658

💫. Galaxy station 87 by iridania

Rated M

-mystery, illness, unreliable narrator (it got me good and normally I see thru them)

-canon like universe, missions

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/15930527

✨. One life for the two of us by iwriteshipsnotsailthem (a fave writer)

Rated T

-single parent Lance, tattoo artist Keith, fluff and angst

-alt universe no voltron

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800272

💫. The greatest unknowns by keithsgaycousin

Rated G

-single parent Keith, pediatrician Lance, falling in love

-alt universe no voltron

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/33240130

✨. One wheel short by youareinacomawakeup

Rated T

-alt universes, angst & langst, shit gets real

-somewhat canon compliance lots of alt universes

✨. Breathe into me by cyberkogane

Rated M

-jealous Keith, lance has a Galra bf, endgame Klance

-alt canon universe

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/15234423

💫. If it's not broken by emo_texas_toast

Rated E (NSFW)

-humor & smut, lance trying to seduce landlord Keith, happy ending

-alt universe no voltron

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/46620268

✨. Ten minutes on the clock, 20 years on the mind by negativefouriq

Rated T

-bamf lance, angst, hurt/comfort

-canon like universe, I think about this one alot

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/38976807

💫. You're a dream to me by icedpink

Rated T

-alt universe canon divergent, secret relationship, team as family

-v cute

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/45049723

✨. Love me twice, save me thrice by witty_name

Rated M some nsfw

-fae court, magic, intrigue

-alt universe no voltron, their love is so magnetic

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/25599466

💫. Wicked rather than virtuous by 2dick2down

Rated E (NSFW)

-dramatic lance (he's so funny), miscommunication, jealousy

-alt universe no voltron

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198666

✨. So, Darling (save the last dance for me) by negativefouriq

Rated T

-pov outsider, smitten Keith, soft klance

-alt universe canon divergent

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/48090406

💫. Dusk till Dawn by hannaadi88 & hunkydory

Rated E (NSFW)

-fae lance, angst, ambitious lance

-huge warning and spoiler: not klance endgame, Reccing it bc it was good but it hurt like a bitch at the end

Https://archiveofourown.org/works/26258401

#voltron #lance vld #vld #vld lance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #klance #keith x lance #keith voltron #hope this works #someone asked me to post it off twit so lets see if it formatted right #also some are gere for amusement others are here bc it made me feel things yk #and I only made it 35/305 of my history tabs before giving up digging thru em #also rereading the classic that is goodnight travel well rn and i cant put that on this list bc its not posted anymore im reading from a pdf #but just know it would be here too bc its so good

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crystallizsch · 7 months ago

Note

Hiya! I hope you don’t mind me dropping in! I was wondering what your Ramshackle duo would think of Ellis!

side note, Yuusha and Ellis both interacting at the glimmering soirée could be fun as well!

aaah hi hi!!! i don't mind at all!! sorry this took a bit, i wanted to finish my cards for your fan event before i drop their groovies afterward B]

ANYWAYS -

first of all actually i really love the princess-y vibes ellis has!! (which should be obvious bc she's based on aurora and belle) and reading about her she just sounds so really sweet and her design is pretty 🥺💖💕

also!! i love her eng va being cherami leigh bc i knew about her first through lucy fairy tail and i have a soft spot for that anime due to it being one of my first ones.

yuuna's thoughts ━━━━━━✦

besties! full stop. yuuna loves people who share their love for sweets.

and i believe they'd get along with her due to ellis' positive personality (and the fact that she's willing to drop that optimism to fight someone who deserves it).

also fave color being pink 🤝

yuusha's thoughts ━━━━━━✦

ellis being a romantic at heart??? probably a theater kid??? yuusha would get along with her so well. (ellis is just like me fr)

yuusha would also relate knowing about dancing/singing (although yuusha cant sing to save her life)

and i couldn't resist drawing them dancing in the glimmering soiree event i think they'd have fun :3

#i had fun drawing their glimmering soiree interaction fhdskf #thank you for sending in this ask by the way and i hope you like it!! 🥺💖#(and that hopefully i read ellis right hgdlskjf)#[—✦ chatting #-✧ my art #twst oc interaction #glimmering soirée #(💜) yuusha #(💝) yuuna #(💕) visitors #-✦—]#i am also so indecisive about how to format these oc interaction posts lmao 😭#i'll figure it out soon hopefully

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bigskyandthecoldgun · 1 year ago

Text

electricity

very loosely based off that one exchange from episode 6 of the dhmis show

words: 4,444

ao3

“Closing shift again, Harrington?”

Eddie watches as Steve’s face shifts from muted disinterest to something like annoyance. “Unfortunately for both of us, yeah,” he mutters, a little red in the face as he rips that stupid little sailor hat off his head and tosses it over his shoulder into the Scoops Ahoy break room. Eddie snorts as it misses the table. Steve runs a hand through his hair and cocks a hip so that he’s leaning against the doorframe. “So, what’ve you got for me?”

Patting the massive tubs of ice cream beside him, Eddie gives Steve as wolfish of a grin as he can muster. “For your beloved freezer,” he says with a low bow, and he glances up just in time to watch Steve roll his eyes. Eddie kicks up the dolly the tubs are stacked on and nods at Steve, to the doorway behind him. “Lemme roll these in.”

“You got it?” Steve asks, stepping aside but hovering at the side of the dolly as Eddie wheels it into the back of Scoops. A couple of the tubs wobble—the ones at the top, because Eddie’s stacked it ten high. He’s not making multiple trips. Steve hisses out a curse under his breath and outstretches his hands by the ice cream, as if he’ll be able to save all of them as long as they fall in his general vicinity. “Careful, careful! Jesus, Munson, these are gonna fall on top of you if you’re not careful, ruin that fantastic hair of yours.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh at the definite sarcasm as he wheels the ice cream into the freezer and sighs contentedly at the feeling of cold air on his skin. He started working at Starcourt a little over a month ago, and the summer’s only gotten hotter. It’s ridiculously hard work, carting around shit to different stores and helping out when security’s short-staffed, and Eddie’s not exactly the most fit person around. Years of smoking and skipping gym class will do that to a guy.

But what makes it all worth it, in Eddie’s humble opinion, is that he gets to spend his summer tormenting King Steve, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, Steve from Scoops Ahoy. It’s a fun little dive into Eddie’s favorite pastime—enacting sweet, sweet revenge. Sure, Steve might not have done anything to him directly, more preferring to stare down his nose at people like Eddie while his lackeys—namely Hagan—did the dirty work for him. Nonetheless, Eddie hates the guy. Well, maybe hate is a bit of a strong word, but he still can’t stand Steve and his stupid hair and his dumb little sailor uniform that has shorts that are way too tight and his dashing smile and his long lashes and his sparkly laugh and—

Bottom line is that Eddie can’t stand the guy. No amount of pretty can fix past slights.

“So,” Eddie says, drawing the word out as Steve heaves the cardboard tubs onto the shelves, and he lets his eyes linger over the cord of taut muscle in Steve’s biceps. Sue him, the guy’s nice to look at. “You got any big plans tonight, Harrington?”

Steve makes a sound that’s about halfway between a scoff and a laugh, with a little bit of contrition mixed in. “Not unless you count sitting on my couch with a lukewarm beer and watching reruns of shitty sitcoms as ‘big plans,’” he says, shifting the tub in his hands to one arm so he can do some sarcastic air quotes, and Eddie blinks. Steve raises a brow at him. “Why, are you offering?”

Willing the heat that’s rushing to his cheeks to screw off, Eddie squints. “To make plans with you? Maybe when hell freezes over, Harrington,” he says, coming off a little more biting than he’d really intended, and Steve’s shoulders tense. A minute change, but a noticeable one. Eddie taps his hands on the now-empty dolly and gives Steve a shit-eating grin. “Well, see you tomorrow, sailor.”

“Can’t wait,” Steve says.

Just as Eddie turns to wheel the dolly towards the freezer door, the power goes out. Shit.

“Jesus H. Christ, can’t catch one goddamn break,” he mutters, fidgeting with the flashlight clipped to his belt until it turns on, and Steve groans beside him. Eddie waves the flashlight around the freezer until he shines it at Steve, who squints and throws his hands up in front of his face, and he snickers. “Looking good, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve huffs, cheeks flushed, and he smacks Eddie’s flashlight until the beam’s directed away from his face. It’s hard to see him now that he’s not directly in the light, but Eddie can still see the way his eyes dart around the freezer, can hear the way his breathing picks up. “Shit. Shit, d’you think—it’s probably just a power outage. Right?”

Eddie snorts. “What else would it be?”

Steve levels a glare at him, and Eddie makes a face back, because he hasn’t said anything wrong, and Steve’s just being a dick. “Okay, well, let’s just…get the hell out of here so we can go home,” Steve says, and Eddie couldn’t agree more, actually. He moves past Eddie to get to the door, and Eddie half-expects him to shove past, shoulder him or something, but he doesn’t; he makes himself small, even, shrinking back and around him. Steve tugs on the handle, but the door doesn’t budge. Uh oh. Steve tugs at it some more. “Wh—oh, you gotta be shittin’ me.”

“Are we locked in here?” Eddie asks, and it comes out as an embarrassing squeak. Steve’s answering groan doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. “Why the hell didn’t you prop it open if it locks from the outside?!”

Sighing as he rattles the door some more, Steve glances back at Eddie over his shoulder. “I didn’t know the power would go out while we were in here, man,” he huffs. “Starcourt uses these fancy electronic locks for all the freezers in the building to keep the cold in them as much as possible, helps keep all the stuff in ’em from going bad, but they’re only supposed to go off after hours.”

“So we’re stuck?!” Eddie asks, and Steve gives the door one last yank before giving up.

“Just ’til the power comes back on,” he says, and Eddie can’t think of anything he’d rather avoid more than being stuck with Steve Harrington for an indeterminate amount of time.

That can’t be true. There’s gotta be a failsafe or something, right? That’s a total fire hazard if it doesn’t have one, and the mall wouldn’t cut corners, would it? Oh, who’s Eddie kidding? A corporation cutting corners is, like, a given. Shit. Shit! “For fuck’s sake,” he hisses, doing some yanking of his own on the door handle, flashlight pointed down at the floor, dangling from his belt, but it doesn’t budge. “Fuck! Shit! Son of a fuckin’ bitch, man!”

“Alright, woah,” Steve says with a nervous laugh, “calm down, man—”

“I’m not gonna calm down, we’re fuckin’ trapped!” Eddie snaps, and Steve winces.

“I mean…could be worse? We could be stuck out there, in the heat…?” he offers, and Eddie affixes him with the most supremely unamused look he can muster. “At least we’ve got each other for company, right?”

He can’t make out a lot of Steve’s face in the dark like this, but just looking in the guy’s direction is enough to annoy him. “I’d get heatstroke in a heartbeat if it meant I’d have the ability to be further than five feet from you,” Eddie tells him.

Whatever expression that garners from Steve, Eddie can’t see. “Harsh,” Steve mumbles, and Eddie barks out a laugh.

“Yeah, okay, pardon me for being pissed off that you didn’t do your job and prop the damn door open!” Eddie snaps, and Steve puts his hands up. That, Eddie can see, can make out the gestures in the way his silhouette moves.

“Dude, how was I supposed to know the power would go out?” Steve asks, clearly exasperated, and Eddie hates that that’s a fair point.

He gestures out, all flappy hands and uncoordinated limbs, and he’s pretty sure he smacks a couple of ice cream tubs in his dramatics. “Because it’s common sense! You don’t let a freezer close behind you, man, haven’t you ever worked a food service job before?!” he asks, and Steve is quiet for a while. Eddie huffs out a humorless laugh. “Of course. Of course you haven’t, because Daddy Harrington probably has enough money to—”

“I’m cut off,” Steve interrupts. “Been cut off for years. He sent me money for basic groceries when I was still in school, but he forced me to get this stupid job when I graduated. Since I didn’t get into any colleges, he wants to teach me a lesson about being too dumb for higher education or some shit. I don’t have his money.”

“Oh,” Eddie says.

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” Steve echoes. “And besides, just because I haven’t worked a job before doesn’t mean you have to be a dick about it. It’s not like the training Scoops gave me was, like, good. Even without a manager, I'm pretty sure we’re not supposed to leave the freezer open.”

That’s…pretty fair, actually. Eddie’s kinda certain he hasn’t seen a manager at Scoops Ahoy since the day the mall opened. And most of his food service job knowledge is based off of sitcoms and movies made for TV that have someone getting trapped in a freezer as a plot device anyway, so who is he to talk?

Still, though, he kind of doesn’t want to give Steve the satisfaction of being right. “Alright, there’s gotta be some way out,” he mutters, grabbing his flashlight to aim it at the doorframe, but there doesn’t seem to be anything. If there is, he certainly doesn’t know what it is. “Shit, shit!”

“Dude,” Steve says, and he sounds a little farther than he’d just been, “chill out. The power’s probably gonna come back any minute now.”

Eddie whirls around, and Steve is sitting on the floor, twirling that stupid sailor hat around his pointer finger. He squints a bit in the beam of light, and Eddie hates that it makes his nose scrunch up all cute and shit. He can’t stand the guy. “You’re infuriating,” he tells Steve, “you know that?”

Lips quirking up in what Eddie’s pretty sure is a sad little smile, Steve shrugs. “So I’ve heard,” he says, and Eddie’s eye twitches. Steve pats the empty spot next to him. “You can sit down, y’know.”

Eddie sits where he is. He doesn’t feel like getting closer to Steve Harrington than strictly necessary, thanks very much. Steve just shrugs, tossing his hat from one pointer finger to the other, and Eddie redirects his flashlight. There’s the soft thump of something hitting the ground, followed by a quiet swear. Eddie snorts. “You drop your hat?”

“Maybe,” Steve says. “You wanna lend me some light?”

“Not particularly,” Eddie says dryly.

Steve just hums. It drives Eddie a little crazy. “Wanna play twenty questions?” Steve asks him, and it’s so goddamn bizarre that Eddie busts out laughing.

“Are you—you’re not serious,” Eddie cackles. “What, like we’re at a high school party? C’mon, man, why the hell do you wanna play twenty questions with me in an ice cream freezer?”

A short pause. “To pass the time, I guess,” Steve says. “You got a better idea? ’Cuz I’m all ears, Munson, really.”

Damn.

Eddie doesn’t have a better idea.

“Okay, fine,” he sighs, “what’s your first question?”

There’s some shuffling, like Steve is sitting up properly, and it’s not endearing, it’s not. If anything, it should be pathetic that he’s so excited to play some dumb party game in the freezer of a nautical-themed ice cream parlor. “What’s your favorite hobby?” Steve asks him. “Like, not the one you do most often, or the one you’re best at, but the one you think is the most fun.”

Eddie makes a face. “You have hobbies that aren’t fun?”

He moves his flashlight over to shine at Steve, who nods. “Yeah, man. Like, I don’t hate them, but they’re not fun. Just something to do to pass the time, or something I do with my dad and his business partners, like golfing,” he says with a shrug. “Go on, answer, what’s your favorite hobby?”

Eddie’s having a hard time getting past the idea that Steve isn’t passionate about his hobbies, but only does them to have something to do for the sake of doing something. Or for the sake of someone else, someone that had apparently cut him off. “Uh,” he says eloquently, “I don’t know. I like all my hobbies.”

Steve tilts his head like a confused dog. It’s dumb. “Really? Huh. Alright, lemme change my question, then. What are your hobbies?”

“I play guitar for my band, I run Dungeons and Dragons campaigns—”

“Oh, shit, really? That’s cool, the kids I babysit play that game, too,” Steve says, and Eddie’s brain screeches to a halt. Steve’s head-tilt gets a little tiltier, and he snaps his fingers. “That’s right, you run the club at the high school, don’t you? Hotfire or something?”

“Hellfire,” Eddie corrects hollowly, and Steve winces apologetically.

“Sorry. Shit gets mixed up in my brain sometimes. Buncha concussions, you know how it is,” he dismisses, and Eddie very much does not know how it is. Steve perks up. “Your turn.”

Eddie is, admittedly, kind of dumbfounded. “Uh, what’s your dream job?”

Frowning, Steve glares down at the tile. “Hm. I don’t know.”

At that, Eddie scoffs. “Oh, c’mon, you can’t be serious,” he says. “Everybody’s got a dream job, man, even if it’s totally outlandish. I mean, I wanna be a bigshot metal guitarist for a world-famous band—preferrably mine—even though I know there’s, like, an almost-zero chance of that happening.”

Steve just shrugs. “Maybe, like, be a teacher or something? But I couldn’t get into college, so…not likely,” he says. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Yellow,” Eddie says, “yours?”

“Swear you won’t laugh,” Steve says, and Eddie blinks at him. Steve crosses his arms. “Munson, swear it.”

“Okay, okay, I promise I won’t laugh,” Eddie says. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Tiffany blue,” Steve answers finally, and, come on, Eddie can’t help it if he chuckles just a little. “You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

Eddie snickers, trying and failing to hide it behind his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just—that’s such a snooty color to pick,” he wheezes, and Steve glares at him.

He drags his hat around in circles on the ground with one finger and pointedly doesn’t look at Eddie. “Yeah, well, I like it ’cuz it’s my mom’s favorite,” Steve mumbles, brows drawn together, and now Eddie feels kinda bad for laughing. Only a tiny bit, though. Steve glances up at him. “If you had to pick a movie world to live the rest of your life in, which would it be?”

That’s…actually a pretty cool question. Not that Eddie would tell him that.

“Um…my favorite movies are horror movies, so those are a no-go,” he says, and Steve laughs. It’s good-natured and nice, stupid and sparkly. Eddie clears his throat. “But, uh, I’d probably go with Star Wars.”

“No way, me too!” Steve says, and Eddie blinks. Steve grins. “I like the one with the little teddy bear guys, you know the…”

He trails off into an impression of the ewoks, and it’s painfully charming. Annoying. Annoying, not charming. “You know those are called ewoks, not ‘little teddy bears,’ right?” Eddie asks, because he’s nothing if not a pedantic asshole, and Steve just smiles at him.

“Eh, tomato, to-mah-to,” he says. “Your turn.”

Eddie tilts his head back. “Who was your first kiss?” he asks, and Steve doesn’t answer for a while, which is weird. There’s this pained look on his face, and he won’t quite meet Eddie’s eye. “What, is it, like, someone you’ve deemed ‘embarrassing?’”

“That’s…not it,” Steve sighs. “It’s just—I don’t want you to, like, flip out and punch me or some shit, man.”

At that, Eddie laughs, but his curiosity is piqued. “Have you seen me, Harrington? I’m a total toothpick. I’m, like, pretty sure if I tried to punch you, I’d break my own arm,” he says. “Who was it, seriously? Some dorky chick you think I know? Is that why you think I’ll flip out?”

“No,” Steve tells him, “it was, um…it was at camp, summer after fifth grade.”

“I asked you who, not when or where,” Eddie says.

“And I don’t know who it was,” Steve shoots back.

Eddie makes a face. “Oh, bullshit, dude, you were at camp with this girl and you didn’t know who she was?” he scoffs. “I mean, I wouldn’t put it past you to forget, but just say you forgot her name, then.”

“I didn’t forget,” Steve tells him, “I don’t know.”

Crossing his arms, Eddie points his flashlight right at Steve’s eyes. “Be so serious. You gotta know. Why else would you think I’d flip out?”

“Because—! It doesn’t matter.”

“Just tell me! You’re not honoring the rules of the game, Harrington, you’re the one who wanted to play—”

“I keep telling you, I don’t know who it was!”

“Bullshit!”

“I never got his name!”

Record scratch.

Steve’s face goes bright red, and he ducks his head so that Eddie can’t see his expression. It’s just as well, because the flashlight clatters to the ground when Eddie drops it, and he hurries to scoop it back up, eyes as wide as humanly possible. There’s no way. There’s no way, right? He’s just doing this to fuck with Eddie, he has to be, that’s—that has to be what it is. It’s eerily silent, and Eddie shines the flashlight at Steve again, swallowing.

It’s audible. It toes the line between gross and annoying.

Eddie toes that line often.

“It was a dude?” Eddie asks, because he really needs some clarification here. “Your first kiss was with another guy?”

There must be something in his tone that he hadn’t intended to put in there, because Steve’s whole posture shifts. His shoulders square, his jaw goes tight, and he looks down his nose at Eddie, even though they’re both sitting on the ground, like it’s a challenge, like it’s a dare. “You got a problem with that, you keep it to yourself,” Steve says, voice carefully even. “We’re gonna sit here and—and we’re not gonna say anything ’til the power comes back on. Game’s over.”

He looks away again. Eddie’s flashlight flickers, and he turns it off, because it they might need it to get out of the mall once the power comes back, in case the timed lights turn off by the time it does. It’s silent for a long while, and Eddie’s kicking himself. He shouldn’t have pried. Shit, now Steve probably thinks he’s a total asshole.

“Sorry for ruining the game,” Eddie says after a while. “My bad, man, really.”

A long stretch of nothing. Eddie calls Steve’s name after another couple of minutes.

“It’s fine,” Steve says quietly. “I don’t know why I didn’t just, like, lie. I usually do, y’know, when that question comes up.”

“If it, um, makes you feel any better, I’m—I haven’t had one,” Eddie offers. “A first kiss, I mean.”

More silence.

“Are you messing with me?” Steve asks, several long moments later, and Eddie shakes his head, even though they’re bathed in darkness, and Steve can’t see him.

He scoots closer, close enough that he can feel the body heat radiating off of Steve without the two of them touching. “Nope. Cross my heart, hope to die, all that good stuff. Haven’t kissed anybody. Not for lack of trying, mind you, but, uh, pretty sure nobody’s exactly jumping at the chance to kiss the town freak, and it’s not like it’d be any good if they did, because, like I said, zero prior kisses,” Eddie rambles. “I’d probably suck at it.”

A light chuckle. Thank fuck. “Probably,” Steve agrees.

“Probably,” Eddie echoes.

They sit in silence for a while longer, though it isn’t uncomfortable this time, which Eddie supposes is a plus. The freezer is just barely less cold, which means the power’s still out, which sucks. How long are they gonna be trapped in here? It’s chilly as hell. How long is Eddie supposed to be trapped in a freezer with Steve Harrington, armed with the knowledge that he’s apparently kissed one whole boy before?

Eddie definitely isn’t straining to see the time on his watch. He definitely doesn’t watch it tick for fifteen whole fucking minutes before Steve speaks up again. “Hey, uh, what happened to your flashlight?” he asks.

“I’m saving the batteries,” Eddie tells him.

A beat. “Saving the batteries…for what?” Steve asks.

“Oh, I was planning on putting them in my Walkman, actually,” Eddie snaps, a little on the sarcastic side, because they’ve been trapped in here for a while, and the freezer is steadily dropping in temperature. Embarrassed, though, because Steve should arguably be the only really upset person in this freezer right now, Eddie barrels on. “Anyway, we may as well get used to being in the dark.”

“Yeah…” Steve murmurs, trailing off, like there’s another thought accompanying it that he just isn’t saying.

Eddie’s brows furrow. “What?”

“Well, it’s just not that great, is it?” Steve hums. “I wouldn’t mind looking at the mall again, and…maybe…looking at you.”

Eddie snorts. “Really? You like looking at me?” he scoffs.

“Uh…yeah,” Steve admits, voice soft. “I suppose I do.”

Eddie feels his face go hot. “Well, I like looking at you, too,” he confesses under the cover of darkness, because it feels a lot safer than it would if he could see the pitying wince that’s probably on Steve’s face right now.

“Oh, yeah?” Steve asks, sounding vaguely pleased, and Eddie doesn’t get him. He doesn’t understand King Steve, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, Steve from Scoops Ahoy, who apparently babysits D&D-playing kids and likes the ewoks in Star Wars and kissed a boy at camp. Steve’s shoulder presses against his own. “Thanks. For that.”

Eddie swallows. It’s audible again, and he really wishes he knew how to cut that shit out, because it does a hell of a job of giving him away. “Yeah, man, no—um, no problem.”

“You know,” Steve starts, “I could be your first kiss. For practice.”

“For practice,” Eddie repeats flatly.

What an asshole. He should’ve known this was some elaborate setup to get Eddie to admit that all the rumors about him are true, to humiliate him or some shit.

Steve laughs, but it isn’t cruel like Eddie’s expecting. It’s soft, almost embarrassed. “Sorry, I just—that’s how the boy at camp got me to kiss him, figured I’d try the line out,” he says. “Guess I still don’t have my game back.”

“Your game?” Eddie asks, because what the hell is happening right now?

“You know, how I, like, suck at flirting lately,” Steve says. “I mean, I’ve been flirting with you all summer, and it took us getting stuck in a freezer for you to be even a little nice to me. Well, to get you to admit you don’t hate looking at my face, but I’ll take it.”

Record scratch number two.

“I—sorry, what?” Eddie asks, eyes practically bugging out of his head, and Steve shrugs with a quiet laugh. Eddie shakes his head. “Not fucking funny, man, you can’t just—you can’t say shit like that.”

“What, I can’t be honest with you?”

“You’re not—! You aren’t being honest, you’re fucking with me!”

Another little laugh. “Well, I’d like to be, but you don’t seem to like me very much,” Steve tells him. “What’d you say again? ‘When hell freezes over?’ Robin’s gonna have a field day with that ‘You Suck’ board of hers when I tell her I got rejected again.”

Eddie rethinks his entire summer.

Come to think of it, if he doesn’t consider a lot of Steve’s comments to be sarcastic, it actually does come across as incessant flirting.

Son of a bitch.

“How—why are you—what makes you so confident I won’t be an asshole about this?” Eddie asks, utterly bewildered.

Steve tilts his head—the shadows move, he sees the silhouette of Steve’s annoyingly perfect hair sway with the movement. “I mean, considering you apologized for ruining the game after I told you my first kiss was with a dude, figured I’d have nothing to lose except for my pride, of which I have remarkably little,” he says. “I’m pretty much shameless, man. And besides, your whole thing is, like, standing on tables and shitting on everyone else for conforming to society’s expectations, so…it’d be pretty weird if you were homophobic.”

This shit just gets crazier and crazier. “You paid attention to me in high school?” Eddie asks, and his eyes are adjusting to the light now. He can make out the faint, nostalgic smile on Steve’s face.

“Oh, I had the biggest crush on you my freshman year,” Steve tells him. “But, y’know, you made it very apparent you weren’t the biggest fan of jocks, and I’d already joined, like, a bunch of different teams, so—”

Eddie cuts him off by practically smashing his mouth against Steve’s, all jittery nerves. He’s not a very good kisser, but Steve lets out a tiny, pleased hum anyway as he lifts his hands to Eddie’s waist, tugging him closer just slightly. It’s insane. It’s bizarre. By all rules of both basic logic and the Munson Doctrine, this should not be happening. Steve Harrington should not be carefully and softly moving his lips against Eddie’s, but here they are.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie breathes, pulling back, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You’re kind of an asshole,” Steve tells him, and Eddie can’t really argue with that, “but, uh, I’m sorry, too. The whole pigtail-pulling strategy really doesn’t work with you, huh?”

The mental image of Steve tugging his hair does something to Eddie that he’s a little too ashamed to admit. “Um,” he manages, “yeah.”

“Sorry about all of high school, then,” Steve says, and he kisses Eddie again.

And just as Steve’s hand snakes underneath Eddie’s shirt, the lights in the freezer come back on, and cold air begins to blast through the vents.

Once again, son of a bitch.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steve x eddie #my fic #cross posted on ao3 #i really hope i did tumblr formatting right #i'm not used to it lmao

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