#i come back to the first photo all the time... i've drawn it 3+ times over the years 4 sure

[pitzips]

studies of knights at rest.

refs: Aweng Chuol | © Hugo Comte / Shamu Azizam @muzizmu / Heath Ledger | @ Bruce Weber

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

i'm desperate to know how many notebooks you have filled with these drawings. i must know, please, i'm on my hands and knees

Most of my comics are drawn on standard letter paper (8.5"x11"), and to date I have filled 23 pages! I usually manage to fit roughly 6-8 comics per page.

Mspaint recreation of the first page!

[tinycoffeeroom]

birds of a feather | daniel ricciardo

face claim: N/A ♡

request: here !

pairing: daniel ricciardo x british!reader

cw: mentions of chr*stian horner, singapore gp 2024

a/n: sorry for the long hiatus but i just had to come back and make something for danny. i've loved that man since i got into f1 and the idea that i won't see him on track anymore hurts so deeply. thank you for the memories honey badger, you will always have a place here on tinycoffeeroom <3

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Hi baby.

Hi love.

You sound exhausted, did you not sleep well last night?

Not really, I've been trying to go over strategies with the team, but nothing seems to be working. There's no way I'm getting in the points this week.

I'm sorry Danny, I know how much you've been working on this...

Have you asked them about that power unit thingy you were talking about?

Yeah... they don't have the time to test it and add it in before this race or even COTA.

What about the new rear wing?

Well...

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Anyway, enough about this shit show. How are you, darling? I miss you.

I miss you too, pretty boy. It sucks that this conference overlaps the race, I wish I was there so bad. Just wanna hug you.

Me too, y/n. Me too. I'm coming back as soon as the race is over. At least we have 4 weeks before the next one. Did you manage to book time off?

I did! 2 whole weeks to follow you across the globe watching you strut your stuff! Hopefully we can get Horsey back for the memories.

Blake's been emailing the owner, so hopefully Horsey will make a reappearance. (LAUGHS)

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Oh wait, Helmut's calling me, I'll call you back babe.

Ok! Lemme know what he says!

Always do. Love you.

Love you too pretty boy.

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It had been a last minute decision, choosing to fly out to Singapore. You knew Daniel would never put his own needs above yours, and while the conference was important for your career, he was important to you too.

It had been easy getting everything sorted. By the time you were texting Blake about flying over, he had already sent you a message, a simple "you know?".

A quick email to your boss, a semi lie spun about a family emergency, and a whirlwind of packing bags later, you found yourself sitting in Heathrow.

Your fingers twitched nervously as you checked the time differences between England and Singapore, double checking Daniel wouldn't find it strange if you didn't respond to his texts for the next 13 hours.

Your flight left at 8PM Singapore time, that gave you at least 10 hours before he would wake up for the race.

Blake had sneakily upgraded your tickets to first class so you could sleep comfortably on the flight and be ready to go straight into race day, or night, when you landed.

Tapping your phone awake, you smile at the lock screen staring back at you.

You and Daniel had gone away with a few other couples from the grid, a well needed break from the stress of Formula 1. In the midst of a late night beach walk with Charles and Alex, Daniel had grabbed your thighs, hoisting you over his shoulder.

Your shrieks of laughter had drawn some weird looks from those around you, but neither of you cared. You'd clawed your way back, legs settling tightly around Daniel's waist as his arms wrapped tightly around yours.

You didn't even notice the flash of Alex's phone, too enthralled in the wide smile encapsulating the man holding you, all teeth and gums and happiness dripping from him like sweet honey. A quick peck to the bridge of his nose and then the corner of his mouth was enough for him to lower you gently to the ground, arms still encompassing you tightly. 

The sound of Charles fake gagging beside you finally pulled the two of you out of the lovesick stupor you'd been caught in, eyes roaming the shadows cast across your lover's face from the fading sunset. 

When Alex had texted you the photo once you were back in the hotel room, limbs wrapped around one another in the cool, air conditioned room, you'd chuckled lightly, drawing Daniel's attention. 

"What's so funny?" The hand gripping your thigh draped lazily across his lap squeezed once, thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly. 

Turning the phone to face him, you watched his eyes light up, that same dazzling smile spreading as he took in the photo. 

"Send that to me."

You hummed in response, airdropping the photo to him as he pulled your thigh higher up his lap. As he leaned forward, lips searching for yours under the dim lamp light, you quickly set the photo as your lock screen, no doubt in your mind that Daniel would soon do the same. 

A tannoy drags you back to the present. 

"All passengers for flight SIA324, please make your way to the gate. Boarding will begin in 15 minutes."

Typing out a quick goodnight message to Daniel, you pocket your phone, sighing as you make your way towards what could be the last time you see Daniel in a Formula 1 car.

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ynstagram uploaded three stories to their close friends

replies:

lilymhe 💔 if i knew you were coming to singapore, i would have come too! ↳ ynstagram was a last minute decision sorry babe xx ↳ lilymhe ... don't tell me ↳ ynstagram 🙃

maxverstappen1 how did you get time off?? i thought you were super busy with work ↳ ynstagram claimed a family emergency, even if danny doesn't want me here, i needed to come ↳ maxverstappen1 he needs you y/n, more than i think even he knows

landonorris does dan know you're coming? ↳ ynstagram nope, blocked him from my close friends for a bit ↳ landonorris sneaky, i like it ↳ landonorris see you soon y/n, glad you'll be here :)

iamrebeccad you're coming to the gp??? come to ferrari hospitality if you can!!!! alex misses you 🥺 ↳ ynstagram don't think i'll be leaving vcarb this weekend, we can meet up for brunch soon though 🩷 ↳ iamrebeccad oh... yeah sure, just let me know 💜

blakefriend hope you got to the hotel alright, me and dan are out for his training session, did you get the keycard ok? ↳ ynstagram i did, and the paddock passes. thanks for this blake, i know with everything going on, last minute admin is the last thing you need ↳ blakefriend if it means dan can have some sense of calm in this mess, i'd do it 10 times over ↳ blakefriend we'll be back at 1pm, see you in a few hours ↳ ynstagram 🫡 see you then

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Getting from the airport to the hotel had been easy enough. Piling the bags you had brought from Monaco to London and now to Singapore onto the only trolley remaining, you make your way down to the Arrivals.

Stepping through the automatic doors, your eyes dart between the people around you. Families reuniting with bright laughter and happy tears, lovers sharing intimate kisses under the harsh airport lights. Businessmen already glued to the phone in their hands as they weave through bodies with ease, their bodies twisting and turning like a well rehearsed waltz.

A man in a black suit jacket and oversized chauffeur hat catches your eye, his eyes following your figure as you try to move around the other passengers. You glance down at the large piece of paper held just above his waist. 

“Y/N L/N” is scrawled in large black letters across the paper, chicken scratch that looks very much like Blake’s.

Making your way over, the man tips the edge of his chauffeur hat slightly, reaching a hand out to shake yours. 

You want to apologise for the clamminess of your palms as you accept his welcome, but before you can speak, he’s reaching across to take the trolley from you, his head tilting briefly in the opposite direction.

You follow behind him, feet double stepping to keep up as he expertly navigates the sprawling grounds of Singapore Airport. 

By the time you reach the car out front, a sheen of sweat covers your upper lip and you cringe, feeling your t-shirt slowly cling to your back. 

The man opens the boot, then the back door and ushers you in. The cold air conditioning feels like a welcome home kiss, brushing away the humidity that clings to your skin from the small journey between the airport and the car. By the time the man sits in the driver's seat, your eyes are slipping closed, head lolling against the headrest behind you. 

You didn’t mean to sleep for the entire car journey, but you’d barely been able to rest for more than 20 minutes on the flight, opting instead to cycle through nonsense films to play in the background as the thoughts in your mind waged a war on your emotions. 

It had been a tense 13 hours, trying to work out what had happened on that phone call between Daniel and Helmut. You knew there were talks of him not extending his contract, but leaving mid season?

Your Danny? The self proclaimed and well known Honey Badger, king of late braking and divebombing his grid mates. You’d been with him since the Red Bull days, and even if he wasn’t winning podiums, or even points sometimes, you thought there would be more of an uproar about this from him. 

This wasn’t the same man you’d watch nearly fight a waiter because he refused to bring you a new meal after they’d brought out a completely different dish, the same man who left everything on the tarmac and often dragged you to his trailer post race interviews for a well deserved nap. 

His texts had been despondent, almost like he believed this was the goodbye he deserved. 

That’s the part you couldn’t move past. The idea that he was going to finish his last race without the flair of Daniel Ricciardo, no doughnuts, no grid walk, no party to celebrate the last 13 years. 

After the McLaren debacle, you understood why he chose to fly under the radar. With COVID and the situation with Oscar, he’d been more than willing to slip away peacefully but this was different. 

This was Red Bull. Or the subsidiary at least. The team he’d spent the longest time in Formula 1 with. The team who took him in as a junior, that he’d won 7 Grand Prix’s with, scored well over 1000 points racing for. 

You would have thought that they would have wanted to give him a goodbye worthy of what he had brought to the team.

By the time the chauffeur shakes you gently awake, your mind is no clearer but one thing is for sure. Daniel will not face this storm alone.

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The time of Daniel getting back from his workout was looming slowly. Since entering the hotel room, you’d hopped in the shower, scrubbing the aeroplane smell from you. The suitcases were lined up against the wall and you were currently lazing on the bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tiktok. Every so often, you’d flick to the notification screen, just in case Blake’s incoming text had somehow slipped past without you catching it. 

Your eyes flutter slowly closed, maybe a 10 minute nap wouldn’t hurt. Before you can lock your phone and settle into the plush pillows, a notification pings through. Eyes darting open, you catch the banner notification before it slides up. 

They were in the lobby. 

“Fuckin’ hell Blake.” Scrambling up from the bed, you round the corner and make sure there is no sign of you in the living room section. Your shoes are tucked away in the bottom of the closet, jacket strewn across the chair in the corner of the bedroom. 

The telltale ring of a keycard being swiped rings through the air and you slide to hide behind the wall, heart thumping against your chest. Doubt begins to swirl through your mind. What are you even doing here? What if he didn’t invite any of his family or friends because he didn’t want them to see him go out like this? Would he want you to? 

Loud voices echo through the hallway, Aussie slang thrown about but you focus on the one thick with a Perth twang. 

Your Danny. 

“Mate, I’m just gonna go point Percy at the porcelain.” Blake’s voice grows louder as he walks through to the bedroom. He locks eyes with you, giving you a quick one armed hug as you exchange quiet greetings. 

Once enough time has passed, he gestures with a finger to his lips to be quiet, head popping around the corner to Daniel. 

“Did you bring Y/N’s jacket with you by mistake?”

A confused “No” comes from the living room before Blake leans across you, grabbing the clothing from the chair. He holds it aloft, in Daniel’s line of sight. 

“No idea what that’s doing here, mate. You know I always bring a t-shirt of Y/N’s which should be under the pillow.”

Your heart swells at the statement, you had no idea he’d sneak something of yours with him whenever you couldn’t attend races. The earlier doubts dissipate, you knew right here, with Daniel, was where you were supposed to be. 

“Strange… oh! I know what’s happened.” Blake shoots you a grin before wrapping a hand around your arm, pulling you into the doorway. 

Smiling softly at Daniel, you huff lightly at the way his eyes widen almost comically as he takes you in. Silence spreads through the room, the two of you locked in intense eye contact as Blake slowly moves aside to let you reunite. 

“Hello, my love.”

Daniel’s bottom lip wobbles slightly and before you can process it, he’s launched across the room, almost body slamming you with the force he runs at you with. Arms latch tightly around your waist, his head tucked tightly into your neck, trembling lips resting against your pulse point. 

“What, I, how?” The words are muffled against your skin, the edges of them tear soaked as the collar of your t-shirt dampens to match. 

Carding your hand through his still sweaty curls, you scratch lightly against his scalp. “As soon as you told me, Blake texted me. He booked me on the next flight.”

Daniel’s head pops out from his hiding place, all three of you ignoring the tears smattering his cheeks. He looks across to Blake, who simply shrugs his shoulders, reaching down to grab his gym bag. 

“You needed them, and they needed you. It was a no brainer. Also, don’t get sappy with me, I charged the flight to your business card.” A chuckle follows and he claps Daniel on the back once, nodding in your direction before heading out the front door, the sound of it closing echoing slightly. 

Daniel’s eyes track from the closing door back to you, wide in wonderment. “But your conference?”

Shrugging, you lean forward to press a soft kiss to the apple of his cheek. “Called in a family emergency. There’s no way I was letting you go through this alone.” You lift your hand up to his face, tracing a path across the same cheek you’d just kissed. “I know your parents or your friends can't be here, but I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to deal with everything going on with no kind of support. I know Blake’s here but-”

You’re cut off by his lips covering yours, desperation seeping through as the words die on your tongue. The taste of salt blooms, the tears still dripping slowly from his eyes. Yours join in quick succession. A rushed “I love you” slips from your mouth the moment you part, his own coming straight after. 

The slide of his lips against your own turns molasses slow, the cooled sweat on both of you soon making way for its heated counterpart as you gravitate closer to one another. Warm hands sneak under your t-shirt, the palms cupping the swell of your hips as Daniel whispers words of gratitude through stolen breaths. Your own hands rest against his neck, nails creating slight grooves under the pressure. 

Knowing what will come tomorrow, you take in this moment, second by second. The feel of his sweat slick skin under your palms, the slight stubble on his jaw scratching at your chin, the way his heart beats erratically in his chest pressed close to yours. 

Every part of this Daniel you memorise, capturing each memory in a gold plated frame. You store them away in the evergrowing gallery of your brain dedicated to the man before you, seal them under lock and key for your eyes only. 

You always knew that one day, you’d share them with him. When all the racing was over and the two of you had the house with the white picket fence, or more aptly, the farm with the white picket fence. You’d dissect every moment of him you stored away, stacked one by one for safekeeping. From the moment the two of you met in that busy London street, every grand prix win, every high followed by every low. Just in case he began to forget the man he was, the man he would still be. 

You just didn’t realise that day would be coming so soon. 

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ynstagram danielricciardo

[caption 2: gorgeous boy xx]

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After the race, you’d left Daniel to his own devices. You knew he would want to spend his time wandering around the track, soaking in every moment of what could be his last ever race. 

Grabbing a ride back with Blake, the two of you stick to small talk, neither able to formulate the words you truly wanted to say. 

He’d given you a brief goodbye in the lobby, arms wrapped around you in a tight squeeze before the two of you separated, him taking the stairs and you choosing to ride in the elevator. 

Shuffling through the front door, you kick your shoes off, nudging them next to the other pairs in the entryway. On the way up, you’d sent Daniel a quick text to let you know when he was on his way back. 

Expecting him to respond around midnight, you slowly work through your nighttime routine, opting to wear one of his shirts to bed instead of the pyjamas you’d neatly packed. 

Slipping into bed, you unlock your phone, squinting at the brightness. Still no messages from Daniel, the 1:27am at the top of your phone making you sigh deeply. Reaching over, you plug your phone onto charge before starting up a well loved podcast, choosing an episode you could probably quote from memory with how often you relistened to it. 

As the dulcet voices fall away to background noise, you settle in for the night, head half shoved into the pillow beside you, Daniel’s scent still lingering from this morning.

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Blearily opening your eyes as the other side of the bed dips lightly, you quickly tap your phone to see the time. A bold 3:57am blinks back at you briefly before the screen goes dark once more. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry babe.” Daniel’s voice whispers in the darkness, hand winding its way around your waist to pull you back to his chest. 

Resting your hand over his, fingers interlocking in the open spaces, you squeeze twice. “s’ok, wanted to see you when you got back anyway.”

Silence follows and before you can roll over to look at Daniel, his face presses into the centre of your shoulder blades, the skin warm through the fabric of the shirt.

“Danny?”

He stays quiet, the hand on your waist gripping tighter. You can hear the way his breath starts to shake on the inhale, the tears from his eyes slowly dampening the back of his shirt currently wrapped around you. 

“Danny, lemme see you.” A shake of his head rustles the shirt. “Baby, please.”

His grip on your waist loosens and you shuffle around carefully, trying to avoid shoving an elbow in his ribs and adding further insult to injury. 

You can hardly make out his face, the small amount of moonlight shining through the haphazardly closed curtains barely illuminating the curve of his cheek. It does catch the glint of his honey brown eyes, tears shimmering along his lash line. 

“Oh, my love.” Your heart breaks at the sight of the man in front of you, a shell of who you’ve come to know and love. The pressure behind your eyes builds, tears threatening to mirror Daniel’s. “C’mere.”

One hand wrapping around the back of his neck, you pull him to lay against you. He burrows in, head pressed tight into the junction between your neck and shoulder, a sombre juxtaposition to this morning. 

“This is the end. Everything I’ve worked for, over. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” His arm wraps tight around your waist once more, his leg coming to rest between yours. “I’m officially a has-been.” A wet chuckle escapes him, the noise too loud in the surrounding silence. 

You can’t stop yourself from tapping the back of his neck lightly. He knows you hate when he talks like that. “No one’s allowed to talk about the man I love like that.”

His head lifts from your neck to throw you a quick glance. “Even if it’s the man himself?”

Pulling him back to rest against your neck, you run your hands through his hair gently, twirling the longer strands around one of your fingers. “Especially if it’s the man himself. You’re not a has-been, never will be. You’re so talented in so many different ways, there will never be a time you can say you’re past your prime or whatever stupid shit is running around that gorgeous head of yours.” Your fingers tap against his scalp to drive the point home. “Even if you never step foot in one of those cars again, you’ve got your dirt biking, the wine company, Enchante, the 17 other high intensity sports you do that raise my blood pressure every time I watch. You’re smart enough to know how to adapt, and that is what you’ll do. I know it.”

“You seem very sure.” His voice comes out muffled from its spot against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. 

“That’s because I am. I was by your side during the papaya setback, I saw how you came back stronger. That’s what this situation is too, a setback. You’ll find a way through, even if I have to stand by the solution with a flashlight to guide you that way.” 

He chuckles, the edges of his voice no longer tainted with sorrow. “Can you still not say their name?”

You join his laughter, remembering the last time you’d spoken about McLaren. “Last time I mentioned that company, I got a cease and desist. Don’t think Zac was too happy with the way I was deservedly slagging them off.” Your nose wrinkles as you think back to the snottily worded email and attached letter that dropped into your inbox a few days after your last public comment about their shitty management. “So I promised to never let that name slip from my lips again.”

The room falls silent again, just for a moment. The two of you still tangled in an embrace, even as the first prickles of sweat bead against your hairline from the heat of your bodies in the warm Singapore evening. 

Daniel sighs, shuffling minutely to run a hand up and down the length of your side. “I just… I remember when I was 20. Being so excited to get into an actual F1 car, even as a tester. I remember jumping out, seeing that I was the fastest and thinking ‘this is it. This is my chance.’ I wanted to be a Red Bull driver so bad, with every part of me. To win a race, maybe even win a world championship, leave a legacy behind. And now I’ve wasted over a decade of my life with only 8 race wins to show for it. Not even a championship. What kind of legacy does that leave me?”

The sorrow creeps back into his voice, and you have to clear your throat before responding, willing the tears back once more. “A legacy doesn’t have to mean winning a world championship. Or even a race. Think about Jacky Ickx, Stirling Moss, Juan Pablo Montoya. All legends in their own right, but none of them had a world championship. If this was your last race in Formula 1, you leave behind a legacy in your own right. People will know your name for years, even decades to come. King of the late brakers, the guy who always had a smile and a kind word to say about everyone he ever met; even if they didn’t deserve it, the aptly named Honey Badger. Just because you don’t leave behind a legacy in being number 1, doesn’t mean you won’t be up there with the greats.”

Daniel hums, taking in your words, dissecting them one by one. “I’m scared. Where do I go now? Do I even try to come back? Move to a different company entirely? Retire officially and retreat to the farm? I don’t know who I am without Formula 1.”

You take a moment to think about the situation for yourself. A world where Daniel Ricciardo is no longer a Formula 1 driver. It always seemed so impossible to you, the company so deeply ingrained into his being that the very idea of him would cease to exist without it in his life. 

“Truthfully, I don’t know.” Your hand continues to card through his hair, a soothing gesture. Whether it was meant to soothe him or you, you weren’t too sure. “I wouldn’t even know where to start with advice, I’ve never had to walk in your shoes. But that doesn’t need to be something to think about right now. Enjoy some downtime, go home and spend time with your family, race dirt bikes around different parts of the world, go see Scotty and Chloe. The future is still so bright for you, Danny. And I’m just happy that I get to be beside you through it all.”

Slowly, he raises his head from its perch, bright eyes finding yours. Despite the situation, you swear he’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment. Teeth bitten lips find yours in the dim light, clumsy and fierce, but perfect in its own right. 

“I love you. So fucking much. From the first day we met and you shouted at me for splashing you with a puddle, I knew you were the one. Thank you for never leaving.”

You laugh aloud, remembering how you’d been late for university, umbrella thrashing in the England wind, when a bike had come up dangerously close beside you, running straight through a puddle and covering your jeans in muddy water. 

After a long rant at the rider, you’d looked up into apologetic golden eyes and high cheekbones, and immediately the anger had dissipated. “And I love you. Maybe not from the puddle moment, but you won me over nearly immediately after. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, with you.”

This is the moment. The moment to open the gallery in your mind to the man in front of you. To recall each and every moment you’d captured in glossy oils and remind him of who he is, who he always has been. 

And then Daniel lays his head back down to your chest, lips pressing an appreciative kiss to the shirt underneath, warmth blossoming through the fabric to your skin below. And the moment passes. 

Pressing your head back into the pillow below, you listen to how Daniel’s breathing slows, settling down as he drifts off to sleep. The perfect moment will come back. There’s still time.

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liked by fan, fan and 982,167 others

formula1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced

see 238,816 others

fan what the fuck

fan not danny ric 💔💔

fan we just got him back😭😭😭

fan helmut marko watch your back.

user lol not surprised, we all knew he was washed ↳ fan 123.456.789.012 ↳ user did i just get doxxed?

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👤 danielricciardo liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 890,274 others

ynstagram the man of many names. danny ric, ricky bobby, honey badger and most importantly, the love of my life. i've loved you for 6 summers and i'll love you for 600 more.

in the words of our favourite musical, wherever you go i won't be far to follow. whether it's in the navy of the bulls, papaya of [REDACTED], the bee striped renault or the dazzling white of vcarb, you bring so much light and happiness everywhere you go, and i've been privileged to bask in the warmth of you.

and until the next adventure, i will always be here to remind you of the power and strength you inhabit, the souls you've breathed life into and the happiness you've brought to the sport you love (sometimes more than me) for over a decade.

always and forever, your y/n x

see 10,286 other comments

fan anyone else absolutely sobbing right now?? ↳ fan as if his post wasn't enough to make me bawl, ofc y/n drops this

fan to have a love like y/n and danny...

fan not y/n censoring mclaren, they hate that damn team so much ♥️ ynstagram

danielricciardo my darling, i love you, always and forever ❤️ ↳ ynstagram so excited for our future, whatever it holds ❤️

landonorris thanks y/n max is crying now 👍 ↳ ynstagram 🤣 which one? ↳ maxfewtrell both ↳ maxverstappen1 both

alexandrasaintmleux 🩷 we need another double date when you're back in monaco x ↳ ynstagram do we have to bring them? ↳ danielricciardo on my own dedication post... wow ↳ ynstagram 🤷 gotta show my girl love whenever i can

fan helmut better hide, y/n doesn't play when it comes to their man ↳ fan fr don't let the sappy post fool you, ik they have a hitlist in their notes

fan him leaving before COTA is so messed up, he loves that track 😭😭😭 ↳ ynstagram wish you guys could have seen the special helmet :( ↳ fan OH HELMUT MARKO WHEN I CATCH U!!!!!!! ↳ fan special helmet... pls we need to see i BEG

lewishamilton with you by his side, the future is bright for the honey badger 🤍 ↳ ynstagram thanks lew 🩷 ↳ danielricciardo thanks man :)

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a/n: this is not proof read, so ignore any mistakes. i can't wait to see what danny does in the future, whatever it is, i'll be supporting him all the way <3

[withleeknow]

letters i didn't send to you.

pairing: ot8 x reader (ot8 in the sense that there's no name mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want. imagine the whole kpop industry if you want lol) genre/warnings: established relationship, long distance relationship au?, angst, fluff if you squint. unedited bc i am insane word count: 0.7k note: trying something new here! dunno how people are gonna like it but i don't feel terrible about it 🤷‍♀️ a product of my emo hours and i needed an outlet and i thought oh hey why not just project this into a fic lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

3:29am, i've been dreaming about you for years. stars and moons and cotton candy clouds on fire at sundown. the whole universe resides in your eyes, it's almost unfair. sleepless nights because you're not here; restless days because i can't wait for you to be back. the clock stops ticking when you're not with me. the magnetic pull gets stronger during the witching hour somehow. i've always been drawn to you, even before i knew who you were. you're the only home i'd leave all my haunts for. it's summer solstice in most parts of the world but not in our bedroom, not when the only way i can have you is through a phone screen on your pillow. your voice is trying to lull me to sleep. it doesn't come close to replicating one tenth of your warmth. to love is to endure.

-

i'm halfway through the day, and you must be dreaming of where you belong, by my side on a bed that's far too big when i'm the only occupant. or at least, i hope you're dreaming of me too. 1:19pm, i'm six hours ahead but days and weeks and months and years behind, still stuck in that airport where you left me for the first time. some days, my eyes get misty at lunch when i think about your alarm going off and your irritated groan as you roll over to make your phone stop screaming. other days, i don't have an appetite at all, not with you on my mind and the reminder that there's still oceans between us. when are you coming home? i know when you're coming home, and yet i ask anyway, as if it'll shorten the distance and make the time pass more quickly. to love is to wait.

-

saturday morning, but i can't stay in bed past 7:12am. missing you a lot tonight, was what you had sent while i was asleep. that's a little cruel for a good morning text, don't you think? it's not your fault. i blame it on the oceans, on the time, on the distance. the coffee is still brewing, just enough for one steaming mug but it would've been nice if i got to make two. can we go back to new york? we always say we would, but can we do it now? i'll meet you halfway if you let me. there's nothing that ties me to this place. you're always on the move. my home is always on the move. we were happy on that trip, right? my fondest memories of you. skylines and the high line. to love is to risk it all, and i would risk it all for you. take me home, will you? let's go back to new york.

-

the clock reads 8:18am, but the date is all wrong. you should be landing any minute now, but not for another two days. two more days until you're home, ten days that i get to be in your arms. and yet, all i can think about is your departure, about coming back to an empty apartment after you're gone again. i think about you leaving before you even return. the drive back after i've sent you off, it never hurts less no matter how many times we go through it. i can already picture the scene, it's almost routine at this point. your sparkling eyes when they find me in the crowded airport, your relieved sigh when i run to you, your hands clutching me so tightly like you don't want to let go either. it's always this damn airport. we should stop meeting like this. when the buzzing of my phone snaps me out of it, i know who's on the other end of the notification. a photo of your new polaroid camera, then a promise to make more memories to keep with us when you come back to me.

to love is to willingly weather this with you a million times and more. even if it hurts. maybe especially if it hurts. you're the reason i keep going. you're the reason why the sun rises in the morning. let's talk about new york when you're here.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.07.2024]

[lunarsilver]

What awaits you in September?

It's been a while since I've done a PAC, but I felt like doing one today. I've used charms and intuition for this one. Pick the pile you're feeling drawn to and see what awaits you in the next September.

REMEMBER

I’m not a doctor, a psychiatrist, a therapist nor a psychologist. Divination will never replace meetings with them.

It’s a general reading, so not everything will resonate.

If you can’t choose between two piles, probably both of them have some messages for you. You can also not identify with any of them, and that’s okay, too.

Readings can help you make a decision, but they shouldn’t be the main reason of making it.

1 ~ 2 ~ 3

Group 1

As I was asking what awaits you in September while picking charms, a charm with words meaning “fingers crossed” (the message is written in my native language and literally means “holding thumbs” though, which looks like this 👍) fell to the ground. In that same moment I holded another charm, about to take it out of the bowl, saying “a selfie together?”. The way this first charm looks, it gives me a feeling someone (your spirit guides, maybe) is rooting for you to have enough courage to ask somebody to take a selfie together. Maybe you’ll make a “thumbs up” gesture while taking this photo. I asked for additional context of this selfie and the charms which I took out (all close together) were “smile”, “you’re cool” and “I like you just the way you are”. A friend? A crush? My mind keeps going to a scenario of a confident female friend (or at least femininely presenting), especially a new one, and I see done nails (especially hybrid nails, colorful, or with small diamonds on each one), and I think about Agnes from Despicable Me and Priya from Turning Red for some reason. Maybe this person has some similarities to them. I think about a “girl’s girl”, with a distinct style and someone who hypes you up. And probably someone you aren’t close with yet. I don’t know to what extent this scenario will resonate with all of you, but coming back to the more universal beginning, the charms are telling you to not overthink it, smile and take a selfie with someone if you feel like it.

 Group 2

The first charm coming out was “you called?”, then “now you can go crazy” (with this one I almost took out a charm with “shall we dance?”, but it slipped out back into the bowl) and lastly “that was a good evening”. With the way I was taking out one charm at the time, and didn’t feel like I have to mix charms for too long, you have a rather grounded vibe to me. Like, you do one thing at the time, and you are quite sure about what you want to do. Now, with the messages written on charms, it’s either you taking somebody out or someone taking out you - I feel like in most cases it’s gonna be the latter, with how grounded the vibe you gave me is, and the “now you can go crazy” message. You have an approval of doing something unusual for you for once lol (of course, always stay safe). Pretty straightforward, going out with somebody out in the evening (I see mostly a male friend with a kinda class clown energy, or a bigger group of friends). This “shall we dance?” charm slipping out makes me curious. Someone will like to ask another person to dance, but won’t say it in the end? Or maybe another person refuses? The first one feels more plausible though. I see mostly a city setting, like going for a walk when it’s dark and there are street light, and so few cars someone could think about dancing on the street for a moment (again, stay safe, I don’t really feel any bad vibes, but I’m telling you this just in case). For the whole reading I felt like shuffling a song for you, so here it goes: Ship in a Bottle by fin.

Group 3

With this pile I felt kind of unconcentrated, as if I couldn’t pick what to do. If you felt drawn to one of the previous piles, check them and then come back here. The charms from them were showing up for a moment, almost getting picked up. Your charms are “a coincidence…?” and “every occasion is good”, taken out together, which makes quite a lot of sense. Something unplanned is going to happen, but there’s no reason to not do what you had in mind for some time if an occasion shows up. As I asked for more, “that was a good evening” fell out. I kept mixing charms, but it felt like that’s all they have to tell you, I didn’t feel that I absolutely have to take out some other charm out of the bowl. However, it fell weirdly unsatisfactory, and my mind went to cards with song quotes I’ve made and use sometimes during divination. Low and behold, I didn’t fully finish the question and one card fell out: “Sometimes the worst of ‘em have the best disguises/He’ll go as far as it takes to stay in hiding/Uh, don’t you know, don’t you know/’Bout the devil, he’s a gentleman” from “The devil is a gentleman” by Merci Raines, and at the back of the deck is “I used to think that I was bold/I used to think love was for fun/Now all my stories have been told/Except for one” from “You will be okay” by Sam Haft, used in Helluva Boss as a lullaby a father sings to his daughter after her nightmare. So it feels like someone is up to no good, and for most of you that person is either a love interest, a paternal figure or a man in power (a priest and a teacher came to my mind, but it may be someone else). I don’t want to scare you, of course, it doesn’t have to be as serious as it could appear in your head. Just remember to stick to your guts and listen to your gut feelings. While the first pile feels excited and rather young, and the second a little older, logical and grounded, this one feels a little stuck and probably the oldest (either you’ve seen some things or are a working adult is what I’m getting). It looks like it’s about time to get rid of what’s not serving you and spend a nice evening. You may have some problems with confidence, but it doesn't mean you should put up with anyone's bullshit.

[pfffsfic]

okay. okay this is not a serious theory but every time I think about it I come up with new "evidence" for it. basically the gist of it is TAWOG'S SHAPE PEOPLE ARE EUCLYDIANS. maybe refugees? "but didn't everyone in eucyldia die?" ignore that. just pretend they skipped town before the fire or something, this is not airtight. it's not even close. it's basically a joke treated seriously. i know the shows are not in the same universe but

hear me out.

Part 1: At face value.

point numnber one: these guys are 2D. the gumball universe has 3D people and 2D people, and the Shape People are 2D, or drawn as opposed to modeled.

point number two: physical traits! other than the obvious 'they are shapes', some or all of the Shape People:

Lack visible mouths (mind you, these Shape People's mouths appear when they speak). Bill also lacks a visible mouth but very occasionally gets one (one page of the Book of Bill, a polaroid in the Weirdmageddon intro).

Can have one eye. the rectangle in the top image is a one-eyed shape person, but there's also this familiar-looking yellow one-eyed triangle Shape Person (who pre-dates Bill's first proper appearance, by the way):

They have noodle arms. little noodle arms

this one is hard to explain but the positions of their arms aren't fixed. this applies to all/most Gumball characters but not to all gravity falls characters. how do I explain this uhh

look at how one of his arms is attached to his bottom plane and one is attached to his side plane. sometimes both of them hang down at the bottom and sometimes both are on the sides. POINT IS-

look at that!

in the rightmost image above you can also see a tiny sliver of a 3D edge like Bill has.

Each Shape Person is also a single color.

Part two: Culture.

note: this one only really applies to the three shapeople i've been using as examples this whole post- Ed the triangle, and his black pentagon and rectangle friends? family members?

I know there are other shapes who look less like them and whom these things don't apply to, but we can blame that on interbreeding with Elmoreans/cultural assimilation or something. okay, let me begin.

point number three: Ed's group is implied to not be from Elmore. when we first see him he's mistaking a bus stop for another shape person:

he also-

point four: the Shapeople language includes one spoken(?) system with colorful squares representing it. on the TBOB website the words of Euclydians are written in colorful square substitution cipher. there are also other shapes for the shapeople, mind you.

back to point 3: not from Elmore. The next time Ed's group appears, they're framed like tourists and ARE HAVING TROUBLE MAKING SENSE OF A 3D (well, i guess 2d but in the other way) MAP.

Gumball tries and fails to talk to them in their language, and ends up making a cultural faux pas. and in Ed's final scene there's an interesting line...

my people? He could be talking about his species, but the existence of a culture implies to me that this line refers more to a homeland. in other words the shape people are from the same place, which we sort of knew because they speak the same language. also has bill ever been seen giving a thumbs up or down? i'm pretty sure he hasn't but maybe I'm wrong, someone correct me here.

point number five: grasping at even more straws.

Despite their origin, the one known named shape person's name is Ed, which falls into the same cultural sphere as Bill.

We know that Ed's type of shapeople are physically capable of speaking English because the black rectangle does so at one point.

one of the symbols in the shapeople language is a skull. we see that Bill's mind has a bill skeleton with a skull that also fits the humanoid-ish template.

final point that does not help the theory but is still weird: Bill's baby photo seems to have a live-action background?? and so does the image of teen/preteen bill? look at these. i'm not implying that elmore IS euclydia somehow, that makes very little sense to me as of writing (though i guess it was destroyed and now Bill has a fear of TV static, which, like, maybe I could phenagle a theory here if I really tried but it seems like even more of a reach than this existing theory.) I dunno, maybe Euclydians would have wanted another 'realistic' dimension to flee to.

(we also see this squishy rosy-cheeked shaperson baby at one point, make of it what you will).

[bloobydabloob]

Any tips on getting better at realism? I've been drawing very cartoony works forever but I really want to branch out and draw more realistically and hone that style but Everytime I try it never feels human 😔

Suuuure. Sorry it’s fairly long, answer under the split thing.

I’d say mainly just practice drawing from reference first. Before I started doing any sort of more abstractive or non referential realism, I spent time practicing with maybe 20 or 30 paintings from reference.

Here are just some that I made during that time. I think they really really helped me to learn the principles of painting appealing realism, different kinds of people, color, skin, lighting, and anatomy.

In terms of actually drawing realism (whether from reference or not) I think the most important tip I can give, as well as the most overlooked ironally, is stylisation. Most realism that I see doesn’t connect at all with me which I think is maybe what you’re talking about when you say your portraiture doesn’t “feel human”.

Learning to draw realism in my eyes is largely about learning how to shortcut every single thing you can. So instead of drawing everything exactly how it is using an image, learn how to stylise realism in your own way. I find that if you don’t find a way to simplify the process, it can end up being A : Busy and B : hard for you to create more realistic images from imagination or from real life instead of photographs.

Here is a 40 minute drawing I just drew from a random photo I pulled off Pinterest + small explanation on what helps me to break down an image. I simplify realistic portraiture by adopting somewhat of an angular style, but the best realism / semi realism artists I know of draw realism using their own stylisation methods.

I also personally find that it helps to start by blocking in instead of sketching with lines, but I understand that this is a personal preference and might not work for you.

I also say this for everything but there is no “cheating” in art and anyone who tells you there is fundamentally doesn’t know anything about drawing, especially in the learning process. Cheat if you want. Use grids to plot where things will be, colorpick, trace, liquify, transform, whatever. Although I do also recommend that you only use this as a way to learn and don’t rely on it as a crutch, it helps a lot to be able to draw independently of all of these factors. But I learned to draw partially *by* being a kid who traced and colorpicked and fucked around. Who cares

This applies to everything too but just practice a lot. I’m too embarrassed to show but when I first starting drawing semi realistic art without reference it fucking sucked. Like *really* fucking sucked because I am extremely extremely faceblind and I mean that. It takes me 3 seasons of a show to recognise an actor’s face. But because I’ve drawn hundreds of faces now I know what I’m doing kind of. I also never post any realism art immediately because oftentimes if I don’t look at it for a day or two, I’ll come back to it and notice that something doesn’t look quite right. I would say that definitely helps.

ALSO very important but look at it from far away or a little version. I always look at my drawing in the digital navigator on FA and it helps me to notice when something looks dumb.

Anyways hope this helped at all… lalala. I don’t know man. Don’t take my words as bible I’m just some guy and I am also not a professional and realism is definitely not my strong suit. Tutorials are bullshit and if you think any of this advice sucks for you then don’t take it and forge your own path. Bless

[redphlox]

No matter how bnha ends, I'm grateful that I became invested because it brought me joy, and it gifted me the euphoric experience of getting to know one of my favorite characters ever: Touya Todoroki, Dabi. I will always love him, and he will always have a special place in my heart. Nothing can change that or take that away from me. Shouto, too. The soba brothers are eternal to me.

It's so typical of me to be drawn to the mysterious, cold, brooding characters, haha. Shouto and Dabi immediately captured my attention when I first watched/read bnha with @fox-conscious. I took a break from following the series for a few years until November 2020, when I casually logged into Tumblr after months of not checking and saw chapter 290 Dabi's Dance leaks. It must have been fate. Suddenly, I was fully immersed in the manga again, excited that the obvious familial connection between my two favorites was officially confirmed. This reveal reignited my excitement and gave me something to focus on and look forward to during a challenging first semester in grad school, when I was on the cusp of realizing I needed professional help for my eating disorder.

To deal with the stress and have fun, I turned to reading and writing meta, and trying to make friends to share the experience with. That's the most important thing that has come from following this series... I've met so many incredible people who mean a lot to me:

@haleigh-sloth has become a really dear and close friend of mine. We met because of this manga and bonded over crepes, breakfast foods, pasta or ramen dinners, shopping at the mall, swimming in the river, walking her dogs, sleepovers, traveling, and road trips because of our shared love of the characters and story. We are basically the same person and constantly say the same things at the same time. Through the ups and downs of school, work, moving, and even now, we've always had each other's backs and shared countless moments of laughter and ugly cackling because we can't take shit seriously, ever. She's one of my best friends for life and I can't imagine NOT having her around!

@todomitoukei was one of the first friends I made in this fandom. I can always count on her to make the funniest jokes I've ever heard, especially during a completely serious conversation, and I'm astounded how smart, quick-witted, and talented she is. Truly an inspiration. I always look forward to seeing notifications that she messaged me because she brightens my day <3

I've had the great pleasure of meeting and hugging @hamliet TWICE! She has a generous heart and an inviting, calm aura. Her kindness and intelligence are remarkable. I genuinely enjoy discussing all sorts of topics with her, both silly and serious: life, hopes and dreams, fears and daily struggles, funny memes, reading and writing. I also love seeing her pet photos and can't wait to meet them in the future.

@transhawks is truly my most insane friend, and I say that lovingly and in the most ironic way because he's level-headed, creative, articulate, and self-aware. I'm always learning from him. I can talk to him for hours and never run out of things to say, and I always look forward to his insightful commentary about anything and everything.

And of course, I'm grateful for all the discord shenanigans with my friends: watching the anime together, voice calls, memes, sharing ideas, etc. @chocolate-biscuit who always pops into the chat with funny one-liners that leave me cackling for days when they flash in my head randomly, @bootlickerhawks who is the bestest horse person ever and I get excited to see on my dash, @helga-grinduil who is the saltiest and funniest person on this hellsite and also happens to make the best bnhaedits in this entire fandom, @jecook who is one of the sweetest people I've ever met and can't wait to read fix-it fics from, @mettywiththenotes who sends cute dog pictures and makes the most hilarious memes. Together we are all unhinged, and I love it. Despite living in different time zones, different counties, we've all create a fun space to cohabitate, and I think that's really cool and beautiful.

Hmm. Looks like the real treasure was the friends I made along the way, and the shared trauma of having our favorite characters mishandled by their creator was worth it. Can't wait to keep writing fics, making memes, and making new friends like @shortstrawberryshake because of this manga. And, I can't wait to keep loving Touya and Shouto Todoroki, of course <3

[quixoticall]

This Could Get Ugly Track 3: The Upside Down Tour

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w.,

warnings: ANGST, drinking, drug use, some minor panic attacks, mention of serious illness and subsequent treatment (poor ill Will)

A/N: Hello! I want to say thank you to all of you for the lovely feedback! I know it's been a minute, but I've been extra busy because I had family visiting for the holiday! But we're back to regularly scheduled programming!

wc: 7.8k

MASTERLIST🎸

PLAY PREVIOUS TRACK 🎹

***

ARGYLE: The first day of tour was always like the first day of school and summer camp and vacation all put together but that very first tour was all of that times a thousand.

They had these buses that had the name of the band on one side and our faces on the other, man, like huge Argyle and Eddie and Nancy and everyone else, it was crazy. Jonathan bought his camera and he took photos of all of us next to our giant selves as the crew was loading up. I sent mine to my mom.

It was all good vibes at the beginning, everyone was so excited. Hopper even brought his kid. We didn’t know Hopper had a kid before that. We didn’t know a lot about Hopper, actually. But it was nice to have the kid around, kept us all on our best behaviors, well during the day anyway. 

*** 

February 1984, On the Road: Upside Down Tour

“There’s no way my jaw is that crooked, Robin come look at the angle of Big Steve's jaw, will ya?”

“Shut up, Steve, Jonathan’s taking my picture with Big Robin, have someone else  measure the angle of your jaw!”

Steve turns imploringly to you and you can’t help but indulge him.  

“Your jaw looks fine, Steve, very symmetrical.”

“Eddie, man, if you stand right there, and kinda lean this way, it looks like you’re eating yourself!”

“Ah, that’s sick, Byers come here and take a picture of me eating myself when you’re done with Buckley!”

“Hey, no fair, we were next!”

“Worry about fixing your crooked jaw first, man.”

 “You said my jaw looked fine,” Steve turned towards you, accusingly.

“Hmmm, let me take a closer look,” you say, teasingly taking Steve’s face in your hands and making a big show of moving your gaze between the giant, two-dimensional Steve and the real Steve in front of you. You tilt his head one way, and then the next a few times over, pretending to be deep in thought.

“It looks fine,” you finally say, “no more crooked than the real thing.”

You punctuate your statement with a light tap on his cheek and he grins at you before coming to a realization.

“Are you saying my jaw is crooked?”

He chases you around the tour buses until you are both out of breath and then when Jonathan comes up to you, camera in hand, and the two of you pose stop to strike a pose that mirrors your giant selves, turned towards in each other, lips slightly pursed, as if preparing for a kiss. That kiss of course, never comes. 

Things have been like this between you and Steve since the press tour, warmer, affectionate even, but with the understanding that there was no deeper meaning behind the affection. You were simply doing your job. 

When Hopper is finally able to wrangle everyone onto their respective busses, you are already behind schedule. His threats don’t have their usual impact though, because even he’s been infected with the band’s giddiness at being on the road. 

You think you even see him smile when he introduces his daughter, a soft-spoken girl named Jane who immediately asks everyone to call her El and looks about 15.

Something about Hopper feeling comfortable enough to have his daughter join the tour made you feel like there was a huge responsibility on your shoulders to be a good role model—a feeling you’d never really had before.

There was a lot about being on tour that was strange and foreign in a way that was specific to you, like bunking with Nancy and Robin on the tour bus.

“It’ll be like a slumber party!” Robin exclaimed. You could see Nancy’s eyes go wide behind her at this, almost as if she’s questioning what she’s gotten herself into. 

“I’ve never been to a slumber party,” you tell them, unsure if your reaction should be more like Robin’s or Nancy’s.

“Well, we are honored to be your first,” Robin says as she bounces off her bunk to sit next to you, looping an arm through yours and leaning her head on your shoulder.

***

EDDIE: The first stop of the tour was San Francisco—we got there two days before the show and checked into a hotel that was  nice as fuck—well, compared to what I was used to, anyways— and they gave us all our own rooms down the hall from one another. I remember asking Wheeler if that was what college was like and she just laughed and said, “Kinda, but it smelled way worse.”

Everyone was so happy to be there, even me. It was a far cry from Corroded Coffin, sure. But at the end of the day, I was making music and even though I wasn’t really that close to the rest of the band, they were good people. Everyone respected each other and partied just the right amount. Wheeler did a good job of keeping us in line. Plus, we were still so wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, we hadn’t really fallen into our new old habits by then.

***

Once in the hotel, Hopper handed out room assignments and he even looking a bit apologetic when he lets you and Steve know that, at label’s request, you and Steve were assigned connecting rooms. 

You didn’t have it in you to let the fact that Starcourt was controlling where you slept get to you and instead decide to try an enjoy where you are. 

Nancy, who was as much of an older sister to the group as she was to her real family, had organized an evening of sightseeing for the band around the city during your first night there.

Walking through downtown, you had a hard time taking in the sites because you were too preoccupied watching Eddie. Eddie, who, from what little you knew of his past, never had the opportunity to travel, was like a child, taking in the sights, pointing to anything of interest, and excitedly exclaiming, “Can you believe that shit?” to anyone within earshot, including El and Hopper.

“You watch your mouth around my fucking kid, Munson,” Hopper had told him.

The entire drive to the Golden Gate Bridge he just kept saying “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” like he could genuinely not contain his excitement.

It was oddly endearing.

***

EDDIE: I know you know how fucking awesome the GGB  is.

***

February 4th, 1984, San Francisco, CA. The Upside Down Tour

The same lighthearted energy carried over to the next day’s soundcheck and until a few hours before the show when a cloud of nervous energy seemed to descend all at once.

The entire time you were in hair and makeup all you could think about was all the different ways the show could go wrong. Were you prepared enough? What if the audience was a dud? Could you keep them entertained for two hours? Each question wound you tighter and tighter until you could not think straight and by the time you were set to go backstage you had half-convinced yourself to call it all off. But you immediately sobered at the sight of the madness that had overtaken your bandmates backstage: Robin was pacing from one corner to the next, wringing her hands and muttering to herself in a language you weren’t completely sure was English; Jonathan and Nancy sat huddled together on the floor while Nancy recited the setlist over and over again like a prayer; Argyle was sitting by himself in a corner, tapping his drumsticks erratically against his knees with one hand while trying to braid his hair with the other; Eddie stood utterly stock still hold his guitar in front of him in an outstretched hand, talking to it like they were having a conversation; and worst of all, Steve was nowhere to be found. You looked around for Hopper, but he was also missing, so you went to the next best thing.

“Nancy, babe, look at me,” you say, kneeling next to her on the ground.

Her eyes bounce up to yours and in them, panic.

“Nancy,” you repeat her name again in a way that you hope is calming, “I know that you’re nervous, but I need you right now. Look around at the mess that everyone’s in. I need you to help me talk them down. I need you to make them believe it’s going to be fine. I need you to believe it’s going to be fine, okay? Because it will be. And because I can’t find Steve.” You say the last part low, in a meek attempt to mask the panic that is seeping into your tone. 

Nancy, who, as you had predicted, flourished in a crisis, hardens her jaw and narrows her eyes in focus.

“I’ll start with Jonathan and you go to Eddie, maybe we can get them to help us look for Steve in the bathrooms.”

You nod eagerly before making your way over to Eddie, who is still mid-conversation with his guitar. You approach slowly, careful not to spook him. 

“Hey, hello, I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you doing okay, Eddie?”

Eddie’s eyes snap to you like it’s the first time he’s noticed you were there.

“Who? Us? Yup, totally fine, just having a bit of a pep talk,” he says between haggard breaths. Where the hell is Hopper?

“Hm, yeah, see, the words that you’re saying and the way that you’re saying them lead me to believe that maybe you’re not fine,” you try to sound as gentle as you can when you say this and try not to flinch as Eddie turns to face you, his whole face taunt with fear.

“Well, it’s not like I’m not a total fraud and loser who completely blew it with his last band and is only part of this band because he sold his soul to an evil corporation that told the rest of you you had to let him play with you, right? Because then I would have reason to be nervous. Oh, wait—"

“Eddie,” you interrupt, reaching up to grasp his face in your hands, bringing him down to your eye level, “you’re being too hard on yourself right now, okay? You have earned your spot here just as much as anyone else in the band. You’re a great guitarist, and a great songwriter—almost as good as me—“ he lets out a breathless laugh”— and you’re gonna go on that stage tonight and be your usual talented self and blow their minds because you’re Eddie Fucking Munson, got it?”

“Got it,” he whispers, eyes blown wide, and at that moment you realize that you’re so close now your nose almost brushes up against his.

“Good,” you say, pealing your hands away from his face to fall at your sides.

“Now, do you want to do some deep breaths or do you think you’re good to go on?”

“I think I’m good,” he croaks out, still a bit out of focus, but much more mellow.

“Great. Now, can you please help us look for Steve? We can’t find him.”

“Steve?” Eddie repeats, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, we can’t find him anywhere and everyone’s freaking out and Hopper’s not here either so Nancy and I were hoping you could help us by checking the bathrooms.”

“Right, Harrington, your boyfriend. The bathrooms, I’ll go check.”

You watch as he turns away and heads in the direction of the bathroom and try not to think about the way his shoulders dropped, the tiniest amount as he did.

Then, you turn your attention to the still-pacing Robin. “Robin, honey, can you please look at me?”

***

EDDIE: It was 20 minutes until the doors opened and Harrington was nowhere to be found. Jonathan and I checked all the bathrooms in the building and nothing. Finally, I got the bright idea to go out to the smoking area, not sure why, but, to my surprise there he was. I’m not going to lie, he looked a total mess: pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair, muttering to himself.

I asked him what the hell he was doing there. He asked if he could bum a cigarette. I said, “Didn’t know you smoked, Harrington.” 

And he responded, “I don’t but the smell reminds me of my mom.” 

That’s when I knew the situation was grim—if someone shares information like that about a parent, unprovoked, they’re probably losing it. It was also at that point that I knew I was totally out of my depth. I had half a mind to turn around and go grab one of the girls or Jonathan, but I didn’t want him to run off on me again.

INTERVIEWER: So, what did you do?

EDDIE: I stayed and let him bum a cigarette. We stood there for a minute, smoking. The guy was coughing up a storm but he kept going. Harrington was always like that—just kept going no matter what. Eventually I just straight up asked him if he was nervous.

He responded with, “Theoretically, I’m not nervous at all, but in a much more, like real sense, I am shitting it, man.”

To this day, I don’t think he knows what the word ‘theoretical’ means.

I asked him what he had to be nervous about, it was just a show, and he was half of the reason people were there to see us, plus he was too talented to bomb. 

And then he looked at me with his big Harrington eyes and said, “I’m not worried about bombing I’m worried about everything else. Like, what if we get up there and we realize that everything we’ve given up, everything we’ve had to go through was for something mediocre and ordinary?”

I told him that was a stupid question and asked him what if it was the opposite. What if it was everything he had wanted? I mean he was halfway there already, right? He had the girl, the sold-out tour, it was only a matter of time before he had everything else he could’ve dreamed of. 

I thought I was being comforting but that only made him freak out more because then he said, “The more you have, the more you can lose and I don’t think I could handle losing any of this.” 

It took me a minute to respond because, I mean, on one hand, it was hard to sympathize with the guy who had everything I wanted and then some. On the other hand, though, I had been there. 

So, I told him about Chrissy and rehab and Corroded Coffin and that whole shit show.  Like a testimonial: “Local Fuck Up, Loses everything and somehow still keeps going!”  I didn’t hold back either, I told him how much it sucked to fall so far on your own.  I also told him that unlike me, he would never have to worry about that because he actually did have people looking out for him. That whole band was like his team, they wouldn’t let him fall like that, at least, not alone. 

Something I said must’ve resonated because he snapped out of it after that. We finished our cigarettes and we went inside. Right on time too, because Hopper was about to send out a manhunt for him. 

***

There were 10 minutes until the doors opened and Steve was still missing, and now, Eddie was gone too. Your mind flits to the possibility that you’ll have to go one without both of your key guitarists  but even just the thought of that is too much to stomach.

Meanwhile, Hopper is back and yelling at everyone in the vicinity. 

Robin, who’s at your side as the entire scene unfold, pulls in closer to whisper in your ear, “what if they ran away together?”

And just as you were getting ready to turn and ask her exactly what had possessed her to ask such a thing the two missing members of your band burst through the door harried, out of breath, and smelling of smoke, to come face-to-face with their furious manager.

Hopper dismisses Eddie with a wave of his hand and then turns his ire towards Steve. 

“Thank you,” you whisper to Eddie as he makes his way to your side. You reach down and give his hand an appreciative squeeze for good measure.

“No problem,” he responds thickly, “couldn’t leave a queen without her king.” Something about his tone makes you wince.

After Steve had been properly chastised by Hopper, the stage manager calls for places and everyone begins to disperse.

You’re making your way towards the stage when Steve reaches out for your hand. “Hey, sorry about that,” he starts, “nerves got to me, I guess.”

“ You know you could’ve talked to us, right? We were all nervous, too. We could’ve been nervous together. We’re supposed to be a team, aren’t we?”

Steve looks more ashamed now than he did when Hopper was yelling at him. 

“You’re right,” he says, “I promise to do better. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.” 

You smile back. 

“I’ve got you and you’ve got me.” 

And suddenly, the curtain rises. 

***

ARGYLE: That night in San Fran we were a mess  but then, you get us all on stage and it’s like none of that ever mattered. We were freaking rock stars, dude, and we were good too and I’m not just saying that because it was us— I would’ve been a fan even if I wasn’t in the band.

EDDIE: Yeah, we were all good, but what really brought people through the door was our lead singers. Them bouncing around on stage together, dancing and making eyes at each other—the audience loved it. They both knew how to play up to a crowd too. She would dance and move around the stage like a total natural—hot but not too hot, ya know? And Harrington had his cool guy act down pat. They were in total sync. It was like they belonged together. 

***

Walking down the stage steps, your head was abuzz with the excitement and satisfaction.

The band had done a great job, even better than during rehearsal and the audience’s energy was addicting. 

This had been what you were looking for all along.

Backstage, you had made sure to give each one of them a hug, even Hopper— as a congratulation, as a thank you, as an expression of disbelief that you were finally here. They all understood and they all returned the sentiment. For the first time it felt that you were all on equal footing as members of the band. For the first time, it felt like you belonged and that was worth celebrating. 

Eddie’s the last one off stage, and for a moment you debate hugging him. You’re not too sure if he’d return the gesture, given your history. But to your surprise, his arms are already open and you fall into them. And then, he did something surprises you even further:  he pulled you close, picks you up, and spins you around in his arms. 

***

ARGYLE: I’m pretty sure he smelled her hair before putting her down. 

***

February  28th,  1984, New Orleans, LA.  The Upside Down Tour

A few weeks into the tour,  Hopper pulls you and Eddie one morning while the rest of the band is off exploring the French Quarter.

“Hopper, can you do us a favor and let us know how long this’ll take? We’re supposed to get beg-nets with the gang today.”

“It’s pronounced ben-yays, Eddie,” you correct automatically as the two of you are ushered into the hotel room that doubled as your manager’s temporary office.

“Whatever it’s called, it’s fried dough with sugar and I refuse to miss that.”

“Can you two just sit down?” Hopper says exasperatedly motioning you two towards a couple of chairs that crowded his small, makeshift desk before sitting down himself and reaching for the phone. 

“I got them both here, Murray,” Hopper says gruffly as the crackle of the speakers fills the room.

Before Murray can fully greet you on the other line, Eddie interrupts. 

“Are we in trouble?”

“No. Should you be, Munson?“ 

“Murray, can we hurry this along? I’m taking my kid on a ghost tour.”

“Fine, fine, listen, kids, I just heard from Brenner and the Big Wigs—the rest of the tour is completely sold out which means that they want to start recording about five weeks after you get back from touring. This means we need songs by then and since you two wrote the best song on the last album, you’ve been promoted (with no pay) to main songwriters. So your homework is to get us at least 20 passable songs by the first week of July.”

“But we get back from tour in mid-June, Murray, that’s a really short turnaround time, don’t you think?” Your eyes dart to the other two in the room, to gauge their reactions.

Hopper shrugs, “Sometimes that’s just the way it is, kid.”

“Which is exactly why you two should start writing now while you’re on the road, trust me,” Murray’s voice crackles over the line.

You look at Eddie, who cocks an eyebrow at you as if he’s letting you know that it’s your call.

 “Okay, we’ll start writing as soon as possible,” you speak out loud.

“That’s what I like to hear! We can check back in once you get to LA.”

The three of you say your goodbyes and Hopper dismisses you and Eddie to join the others.

As the two of you walk down the hall towards the elevators, your mind is already bubbling over with ideas. This was your first big shot to do exactly what you’ve always wanted to do. This was more than just writing a few songs, it was about creating an album, and an image of where the band was going. This was huge.

***

EDDIE: To be honest I never really thought about my writing process. I would just pull out a notebook and a pen and start writing when I had something I thought was good—little bits here and there. She took everything so seriously though. The entire elevator ride down, she was talking my ear off about concepts and inspiration and “sonic vision”. Eventually, I just had to say, “Listen, why don’t we meet up in your hotel room after the show tonight and talk about it then?”

***

The rest of the day, it was like only part of your mind was present. The rest was floating around, thinking about what you wanted to write.

Of course, you had plenty of things written, but you weren’t sure if any of that would work. The next album needed to meet the rising momentum of the band’s popularity: it needed to be current but also true to where you were as a band. You needed to say the right things—and most importantly, you needed to say them in the right way.

Before you knew it, you were back in the hotel after soundcheck, freshly showered, standing in the threshold that connected Steve’s room to yours.

“Are you sure that’s how it’s  pronounced?” Steve's voice echoed from his bathroom, where he was brushing his teeth.

“I swear to you that it’s not pronounced Ee-too-fee, Steve. Why do you think the waiter laughed when you ordered?”

You come up behind him in the mirror running a brush through your still-wet hair.

“Because I’m naturally endearing and everything I say is charming,” he responds, catching your eye in the mirror.

“Whatever you say, Harrington.”

Before he can retort, a knock thunders through your room into his.

“Oh, that must be Eddie,” you say, turning on your heel to cross the threshold into your room.

“Munson?” Steve asks, befuddled.

“Yeah, he’s coming over to start writing some stuff. Murray’s on our case, remember?”

“Right, I just didn’t think you’d start tonight.”

You just shrug before disappearing into your room, “The sooner we get started, the sooner we finish.”

You don’t hear his response because you’re already at your door, swinging it open to reveal Eddie Munson standing in the hotel hallway, guitar case in one hand and beat-up notebook in the other.

“The Eagles?” He asked, eyeing the logon on the oversized t-shirt you wore.

You bristle as your fingers brush against your shirt suddenly self-conscious of the length.

His gaze follows the movement of your hand and then settles right where the hem of your shirt grazes your thigh.

It takes you a moment to find your voice. “What can I say? I’m a woman of taste.” 

***

EDDIE: I became an Eagles fan after that night. 

***

You lead Eddie into your hotel room and gesture towards the small sofa in the corner for him to set his things down.

Before joining him, you peek into Steve’s room to see him fully peering through the door. “Night, Steve,” you say with a gentle wave as you move to close the door.

“Night,” he says back softly, his eyes bouncing from your face to the room behind you where Eddie was setting up his things.

“Night, Munson,” he says finally, voice a bit tighter. 

“Goodnight Sweet Prince,” Eddie waves theatrically as you close the door between the two rooms and walk over to sit by his side.

“You two always leave the door open?” he asks, fiddling with his guitar strings.

The question makes you feel defensive.

“Um, no, not always, we just, say goodnight, sometimes we will talk about the shows a bit before. bed.”

Eddie quips an eyebrow at this but says nothing.

 “Should we get started then?”

***

EDDIE: That was my first time writing with her. That was my first time writing with anyone else, honestly. She asked me a lot of questions: about what themes I wanted to include; what concepts I thought would fit; if I had seen any movies that I thought could be good inspiration. It felt like a job interview.

I could tell that she’d been thinking a lot about this, maybe too much, actually. So, I told her that maybe we just needed to slow down a little bit, talk about what we had first, and then go from there. She agreed, but she still seemed pretty wound up, so I suggested we bust open the mini bar and we drank for a bit. I think we were both a little nervous to share our songs. It’s something kinda personal, to share your art with someone, ya know? And it’s always worse when it’s someone you know in your regular life—it’s like someone slices you open and takes a walk around your brain but then you have to see them the next day at work or whatever and you have to pretend they haven’t just taken a tour of the best and worst parts of you. 

And it wasn’t like we were particularly close back then, so there was some extra nerves there. Hence, the liquid courage. 

***

You and Eddie are about two (maybe three?) shooters in by the time you decide to get properly started.

Eddie volunteers his work for the two of you to go through first and you’re secretly grateful as he hands you his beat-up spiral notebook and you splay it across your lap to read over what he has. Eddie leans in to read too, and in doing so, his leg is flush against yours. He’s so close that his hair brushes against your cheek when he moves and you can smell him—earthy like pine and a tiny bit like menthol cigarettes.

You realize you might be a bit tipsier than you had thought because it takes extra effort to focus on the words in front of you.

His first few songs are good, but they don't match the vibe of the band.

"Too metal,” you say to him, pointing out the songs you’re referencing.

“Yeah, that makes sense, those were meant to be for my old band,” he responds.

You know enough about Eddie’s professional past to know that he used to be in a metal band before joining The Downsides and that it ended poorly, but not much else.

You flip through a few more pages before a few lines of lyrics catch your eye:

Don’t remember who I was then

Can’t keep straight where I was when

What’s my name? Where have I been?

Where did I start? Where does it end?

You’re the one thing I hold dear

The only thing that’s crystal clear

I live and die if you’re near

And all the scars disappears.

“This is something,” you hold the page up to Eddie.

He reads over the lines and grimaces.

“I wrote that right after I got out of rehab a few years ago. It didn’t really go anywhere...as you can see.”

This realization is sobering to hear. Mostly because it enlightens you to how little you know about your bandmate.  You spend a moment trying to categorize everything you know about Eddie and you come up sparse. You weren’t even entirely sure you knew how old he was. 

He seems to take your silence as you process this as judgment because you feel him scoot away, his face and body angled away from you.

You reach out and lay a hand on his arm, and he freezes.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” you say slowly, before picking up his notebook again, this time with a newfound care.

“This,” you tap the lyrics, “doesn’t need to go anywhere. It can just stay here or wherever you want it to.”

***

EDDIE: It wasn’t the reaction I expected from her, but it was really nice to hear. 

***

You and Eddie flip through the rest of your respective songs, not really finding anything that both of you can agree on. There are a few stray lines that jump out from both your books but beyond that, there was nothing the two of you could agree on. It was pretty clear that you were both writing songs for artists that you no longer were. 

Right around the third hour together, you both decide to call it a night, but only under the condition that the next time you meet, you’ll both have come with something brand new written.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” you say, voice hushed as you usher Eddie to the door, “and thanks for letting me read your work.”

He just smiles in response, wide and beautiful and rare. 

“Don’t worry, princess, we’ll get there. This was just a test run,” he reminds you. 

You watch him make his way down the hall    Until he disappears but not before throwing one last, rare, smile your way.  

Once Eddie is gone, you all but drag yourself to your bed, yearning for that special hotel-pillow softness when you hear another knock. This time, from the door connecting your room to Steve’s. 

“Steve,” you pull the door open, “why are you awake? It’s like 4 AM.”

 “Can’t sleep,” he mumbles. “Can I hang out with you for a bit?”

His eyes are barely open and his hair is disheveled beyond belief. He looks young standing there in his worn-out pajama pants.

“Fine,” you say as you turn back into your room, “but I’m getting into bed because I’m tired.”

He follows you into your room and shuts the door behind him. You make a beeline for your bed to slide under the covers and Steve, meanwhile moves towards the couch.

“Why can’t you sleep, Steve?” you ask, burrowing into your duvet, eyes already closed. 

“I dunno, can’t stop thinking.”

“Thinking? You don’t need to be doing that.”

By the time he responds, you’re already asleep.

When you wake up the next morning, Steve is still there, asleep strewn across the tiny couch, hair even wilder than the night before.

***

ARGYLE: Tour life was the best life. A new city every night, the music was good, the crowds were crazy and the drugs were plentiful. And the parties! My dude, the parties! After every show we’d end the night at some bar or club with the band, the crew and more groupies than a dude could ever want. 

***

March 6th, 1984, Atlanta, GA. The Upside Down Tour

“You know, it’s not what you think.” Nancy’s voice can barely be heard over the sound of the thumping music of the basement bar that you’re in. 

“What?” You ask the keyboardist. 

She gestures subtly with a nod towards the corner that had been occupying your attention. Robin and Steve were huddled together in deep conversation, both leaning against the bar. A few spots away, Eddie sat with a pretty girl with locs. Over the last few minutes, you had watched as his hand made its way slowly up her thigh with an almost morbid sense of curiosity. 

Your eyes turn back to Nancy, unsure as to why she would weigh in on the flirtation between Eddie and the groupie. 

“Steve and Robin,” she elaborates, “I’ve seen you staring and I know what it looks like, but it’s not what you think. They’re close but just friends.”  

Oh. Steve and Robin. Right. 

“It doesn’t matter what they are and what I think of it, Nancy, because it’s none of my business,” you respond. 

She turns to face you, clearly ready to argue something back but you cut her off. 

“Where’s Jonathan? I haven’t seen him all night.” 

A grimace flashes across her face for brief moment, nearly imperceptible, but you catch it. 

”He’s back at the hotel room,” she replies tersely,  “on the phone with his mom. Will had another surgery today.” 

You wince. It was no secret that Jonathan‘s younger brother had fallen ill again. You had seen less and less of the bassist as the tour had progressed. He’d been spending any time that he wasn’t on stage trying to get ahold of his mom back home to ask about the progress of the youngest Byers boy.

You smile at Nancy in a way that you hope is reassuring and say, “Weren’t his chances of recovery high after his surgery, though?” 

Nancy exhaled deeply, “If everything goes well, then yes, chances of recovery are high.” 

She looks like she wants to say something more but cuts herself short. Her eyes float past you, to the newly appeared figure to your right. Steve. 

He smiles in greeting, his arm falling to graze in between your shoulder blades. His pupils are blown wide— a dead give away that he had partaken in whatever substance Argyle had been touting earlier in the evening.

Even high, he seemed to pick up on the serious mood between the two of you  and asks if everything is alright. You smile softly and nod, arm snaking around his back lightly. 

Nancy sighs in response. “We were just talking about Jonathan, actually I think I’m going to go check on him. Have a good night, you two,” she says and she looks at you and Steve, her eyes catching on the points where your bodies touch. 

As she pushes herself forward, ready to move towards the exit, Steve calls out after her.

The two of them lock eyes and they seem to be holding yet another silent conversation. While you can not decipher their secret language of raised eyebrows and scrunched noses, you can that they’re arguing about something and by the way their eyes keep bouncing to you, you can’t help but wonder if it’s you they’re arguing about and what you could’ve possible done to warrant that. 

Whatever their argument is about, it doesn’t seem to come to a resolution based on the way Nancy scoffs at Steve and rolls her eyes before bidding her final goodbye. 

“What was that all about?” You ask, when she’s finally out of sight.

“Nothing,” Steve says tightly, “Nance is trying to convince me she’s right about something that I knowshe’s wrong about and she won’t let it go.” 

This catches your attention. 

“Oh, yeah? And what possible could Nancy Wheeler be wrong about, pray tell,” you plea conspiratorially, turning fully to face him and drawing closer.

This leaves Steve gasping for words in a way that makes you wonder if he’s higher than you originally thought.

Before you can ask him if he’s alright, he  freezes as he spots something over your shoulder a weird expression taking over his face. You turn, following his line of sight to Robin locked in a very intimate embrace with the female bartender that was serving her and Steve earlier in the evening. The bartender leans upward to catch Robin’s lips and you hear Steve hiss, “Damn it,” under his breath. 

Of course, this must have been the thing that Steve and Nancy were arguing about. Steve and Robin must be in a fight. 

You scan back through your recent memories of them wondering if perhaps there had been signs of a growing rift that you may have missed but as far as you’d noticed things were normal between the two of them.

“Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry,” you sooth, finally turning back to face him.

“Don’t be, it’s only $50,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. He must really be higher than you thought.

“What?” 

“The bet was only 50 bucks,” he explains, way too calm for someone who just saw the girl he’s in love with kissing another girl in a crowded bar. 

“I’m not sure I’m following,” you say slowly, before the realization dawns, “wait, is this some where sex thing the two of you do? Listen, as much as I like you both as friends and appreciate that you trust me with the details of your romantic relationship, we’re still, like, coworkers and I don’t really think I should be hearing what the two of you get up to intimately—“ 

“Woah, woah, woah, romantic relationship? Me and Robin are not in a romantic relationship and we definitely are not intimate in any sense of the word, and the fact that you think that makes me want to barf, actually. Why would you think that?” He asks, a wildness coloring his tone. 

“Well, you’re always together and you’re so close, and you’ve always been so secretive, sneaking around together and stuff,” you struggle to answer under his confused gaze. 

“No, we’re friends, capital ‘P’ platonic,” he explains, “always have been, always will.” He can clearly tell you’re still confused because he then begins to explain further, “ The bartender, and her have been flirting all night, but Robin was too chickenshit to make a move so I bet her $50 that she couldn’t get her phone number by the end of the night but it seems like she got more than just her phone number. Which I guess is a good thing because maybe now she’ll stop moping about that girl back in LA but it sucks that I’m out $50.” 

“Wait, Robin dates girls?” 

Steve winces, as if the realization of what he’s told you has just now hit him. 

“Sorry, that was not my information to reveal. Please, don’t mention it. Please. It’s not that Robin doesn’t trust you or like you it’s just that she’s trying to be extra careful about it. She doesn’t want it to get, you know, out out. Especially with all the new press we’re getting.”  

You nod back in understanding, “don’t worry, I won’t say anything. To anyone. I promise. I would never put Robin in that spot.” 

Relief immediately runs through Steve’s features.

“Although, if she wants to keep things under wraps,” you begin, glancing back to where Robin is still kissing the bartender, “maybe she doesn’t want to be making out with women in public?” 

Steve nods rapidly in response, “Yup, good call, we should take her back to the hotel.”

Rob proves to be a stubborn drunk, and it takes you and Steve about 20 minutes to cajole her out of the bartenders arms and into the back of a cab. 

She spend the entire ride back to the hotel going on and on about ”star-crossed  love” and the “malignant force is keeping her from her beloved disguising themselves as friends”. In response you simply nod along and  your hand up and down her back in a way that you hope is soothing. 

“At least you two have each other,” she says softly, patting your cheek as the cab slows to a stop in front of your downtown hotel.

Then, as she steps out onto  the sidewalk, her stance wavers and she leans in, essentially pinning you to the side of the cab. 

You think she might try to kiss you too, but instead she whispers, “Please be careful with his heart. Steve’s softer than you think, you know.”

*** 

It’s a joint effort between you and Steve to put Robin to bed. 

Makeup is gently removed, hair is pulled up, and pajamas put on, and a slumbering Robin is safely tucked into bed with a receipt with the bartender’s number and $50 bill placed on her nightstand, ready to greet her in the morning. 

“She’s gonna be so hung over tomorrow,” Steve remarks as the two of you amble down the hallway to your own rooms. 

“Does she always get like that when she drinks?” You ask. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, all, Shakespearean and nonsensical? She was saying all sorts of weird things back there. I think she even thought we were together. Which is actually kinda funny considering early tonight I thought the two of you were together,” you chuckle at the irony. 

Steve, however, looks distraught at this observation. Suddenly, he stops in front of your rooms and turns to you. 

“Is that why you’ve been acting so distant with me, because you thought I was with Robin?” 

You blush. 

“Partially, sure,” you stutter, “it’s hard to pretend to date your bandmate when you think he’s in love with your other bandmate. But, I also think it’s good that we maintain a healthy distance.” 

“Why?” 

The severity in his voice when he asks that takes you by surprise. 

“Well, because it helps us remember that none of it’s really,” you admit, carefully. 

You struggle to meet Steve’s eyes when you say this because, while it’s a fact that your relationship is a farce, speaking that out loud feels particularly cruel. 

You catch the movement of his throat as he swallows thickly but you can’t brave a look at his face. 

When he finally speaks, his voice is unsteady, “If there was no Starcourt and no contract and you and I were just two normal people, would you want us to be real?” 

He sounds so scared you can’t help but reach out for him, trying to offer some comfort. He accepts your small hand in both of his, thumbs grazing the back of your hand with much more gentleness than you’ve ever been offered. Than you think you deserve. 

You can’t help but meet his gaze then, and the way he looks at you, vulnerable and hopeful is nearly too much to bear. 

“I don’t know,” you begin, tears building at your lash line, because you truly don’t.  

You think back, in earnest, to all you’ve come to learn about one another and how easy it is to be around him. You think about the way you find comfort in his touch and he in yours. And you think about the two of you performing and how every time you’re on stage with him, it feels like there’s no one else but you and Steve. 

The shrill ding of the elevator brings you crashing down to reality, to the dingy hotel hallway and the beautiful boy in front of you with the pleading eyes. 

Footsteps and giggles make echo down the hall, coming closer. Both you and Steve turn towards the noise, temporarily forgetting your very serious conversation. 

Suddenly, Eddie appears around the corner, the pretty girl from bar on his heels. 

He stops abruptly at the sight of you and Steve. You turn your face in the other direction, quickly. You don’t want him to see you in this state, teary and distressed, especially not while he’s with this beautiful stranger, so you hide yourself against Steve’s chest. 

There’s a terse quiet that follows while you’re sure Eddie assesses the situation. 

You can tell by the way Steve gently curls his arm around your shoulder that the two of them must be having some weird silent  standoff. 

“Wait,” you hear Eddie’s companion shrill, “are you Steve Harrington and—“

“Yes, that’s them, sweetheart, in the flesh,” Eddie cuts her off and you can hear them start moving down the hallway again, “How about we give the lovebirds their privacy and you and I pick up where we left off in the cab?” 

You listen to their footsteps growing fainter and fainter and when you’re sure it’s just you and Steve, you pull yourself out of his embrace, to face him once again.

“What I want doesn’t matter, Steve,” you admit, sadly, “not when everyone is depending on us fulfilling our contract.” 

He sighs, “I don’t understand why we can’t fulfill the contract while being together? Wouldn’t we be more believable if we didn’t have to pretend? If it was actually real?”

He didn’t get it. 

“Maybe, but what if things go badly? What if we’re happy for a little while but then we realize we can’t stand each other? Then what? We either break up the band or we are forced to keep pretending just like we are now but this time, we hate each other? ” 

You think of your parents and how they lived separate lives for as long as you could remember, speaking to each other only when absolutely necessary. You’re sure they didn’t intend to hate each other at first. 

“What if we find out we really like each other?” He argues back gently, “what if things work out great and we’re happy?” 

You wouldn’t know how to do that. No one ever taught you how to love without it hurting. 

“No,” you say, sadly shaking your head, “someone will just end up getting hurt.” 

Steve clutches your hand tighter, one final supplication. “If someone has to get hurt, I’ll make sure it’s me.” 

Full tears are streaming down your face now as you gently pull your hand out of Steve’s grasp. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you tell him, turning away from him while you still can, leaving him standing alone in the hall. 

PLAY NEXT TRACK

Taglist:

@rexorangecouny , @persophonekarter @mystargirl-interlude @brinleighsstuff @thegaysaretired @nothing2-see

[the-blind-assassin-12]

WIPS ON WIPS ON WIPS

So... over the last week or three, I've been tagged *checks notes* NINE (9) times in various wip posts, and I responded to *checks notes unnecessarily* NONE (0) of them. 🤦🏻‍♀️I am so sorry to everyone who tagged me for not responding sooner, I very much appreciate the tags and the interest/support. My brain has been down the drain for a while, so I've not really had anything worth sharing. BUT! I'm fixing that right here, right now, because better one to three weeks late than never, right?

Last Line Tags:

1- @something-tofightfor tagged me after sharing an upcoming part of Fool's Gold (which I have been LUCKY enough to read a few parts ahead on, and let me tell you guys, we're all in for a TREAT with this story), specifically looking for Jack or Marcus snippets. So let's go with the cowboy, shall we?

“I read you, Jack.” You waited a beat, heart slamming at your ribcage as you stared at the back of his seat in front of you. “Everything alright?” Well that’s a dumb question that I already know the answer to.  He let out a small humorless laugh that sounded far too flat to come from the man you knew. “Oh, just peachy.” You winced, closing your eyes and focusing on his voice. “Listen, I know Champ and Ginger want you to stick with me on this one. But I…” He swore under his breath. “I need you to stay with the Pony when we land. Can you promise me that?”  What? Your eyes flew open, brow creased with confusion. “That’s not…” You shook your head even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “Jack, that would be a violation of a direct order. I can’t-”  

2- @djarins-cyare tagged me in a sneak peek of a Din story she's working on, so I figured I'd reciprocate with some tin can man of my own.

You gasped as you stepped out from the cavern, mouth dropping open and eyes going wide as you took in the sight of the open sky, illuminated by Concordia’s silvery green glow, for the first time in your life. It’s real. You took another step, chin tilted upwards as you spun in a slow circle. A tear rolled down your cheek and slipped over your lip, your tongue flicking out to lick it away. It’s… “Beautiful,” you whispered. 

3- @oonajaeadira tagged me when she shared a snippet of Leave Off Your Wandering, which I cannot wait to catch up with because I adore that story so so much. The next thing I have cooking in my own Joel story is actually an Ellie interlude, so let's see what that girl is up to.

The faces that graced the pages of her notebook were all familiar ones, all people that mattered, all people that she loved. Working cameras were scarce in Jackson, and finding film for them wasn’t exactly easy either. But even if she could indiscriminately snap photos of everyone she cared about, she’d still opt to sketch them instead. To her it was a labor of love, capturing their features as she saw them through her eyes, using her own hand to create each likeness.  Joel on the porch steps with his guitar. Dina smirking with her arms crossed. Jesse with his teasing grin. There was a sketch of her and Kat from when they were together that still made Ellie smile even though they’d decided to go back to being friends. She’d even drawn scenes and images of things she’d seen around town or out on patrols. There was a whole page in one of her earlier books dedicated to her birthday trip to the Wyoming Museum of Science and History, including a side by side comparison of Tommy and the thick-skulled dinosaur that Joel swore was the spitting image of his brother. 

4- @burntheedges spoiled us by sharing TWO snippets - one of Girl Dad Frankie and one of Ballet AU Din (which I am very interested in, btw) and since I already shared some Din, let's see what I have for Francisco. (this is from a very nebulous wip for a Dog Rescue AU)

Standing from his desk and crossing his arms loosely over his chest, Frankie shifted his weight to one leg and called over his shoulder. “Hey, Ben?”  “Yeah?” The other man’s footsteps grew closer until he was standing in the doorway, one hand leaning on the frame. “You need somethin’? What’s- oh.” Frankie moved aside so Benny could see what - and who - he was looking at. “Well I’ll be goddamned.” The grin he wore was audible, causing Frankie to roll his eyes. Cocky little shit. “Guess I was right. She came back.”  “Yeah,” he said, letting out a small huff that was just as much astonishment as it was amusement. She sure did. He watched as you finished parking in the same spot you’d pulled into two days earlier, directly next to his truck, and then pulled a box out of the back seat. 

5- @stealyourblorbos tagged me in some wip drawings of Miguel O'Hara - a character who I only know through and because of her stunning artwork of him - and what I know I like very much. Gonna be *vague* here and post a couple bullet points from notes of something foolish I'm working on:

You’re co-starring in an action movie with Dieter. It’s your first time working together, but you get along really well and have instant chemistry. 

You’ve already filmed ⅓ of the movie - including a pretty hot sex scene - and now you’re working on scenes involving stunts and SFX.

Out Of Context Line Tags:

6- @littlemisspascal tagged me and shared a mystery snippet, so here I come with a mystery of my own. (this is fun. it's like tossing a confusion grenade and running away laughing.)

Normally, this was where he would veer away from the truth or else avoid it by changing the topic. It was a defense mechanism, putting up fences so tall he couldn’t be seen. In his mind, there was no point in delving into such deep character analysis. Not when the expiration date was already stamped on whatever skeletal relationship he was in with the mere asking of such a personal question

7- @burntheedges tagged me again but this time with no context. So I trade you one secret for another, Kate!

Despite the fact that you hadn’t fallen asleep until well after two in the morning, you were wide awake before sunrise the following day. For a moment, when you first blinked your eyes open, you thought - hoped - that it had all been a very vivid dream.

8- @keldabe-kriff came in hot with something that I truly have no context for, so in that vein, here you go.

“I can’t fucking believe it, Joel.” She plopped down on the seat beside him, drawing one leg up and resting it over his thigh. Hands coming up to the sides of her face, she blew out a breath that broke into a laugh. “Two offers? I-”  She laughed again, stopping only when he reached over to encircle one of her wrists with his fingers, pulling it down and away from her face. “I can.”

9- @rulexofxnines tagged me and shared a moodboard for an upcoming fic, and while I don't have a moodboard, here's the main inspo picture for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May server challenge that I've been fiddling with:

THANK YOU AGAIN TO EVERYONE WHO TAGGED ME!!! I promise I am digging myself out of this deep funk and things are going to start moving again!!

[foxes-that-run]

Fools gold

As well as posting about it this week, Harry referenced Case of You in Fools Gold for One Direction in 2014. California on Joni Mitchell's Blue also influenced Canyon Moon.

Similar to Case of You, it is about knowing he loves someone who doesn’t prioritize their love and continuing on. Neither 1D or Harry have played it live, though Niaill has. He's doesn't even look comfortable introducing it in this promo holding a banana??

While they are all credited for the song to MTV Jamie Scott indicated he wrote it with only Harry. He posted this photo with Harry wearing the Haylor ring on 14 September 14, they were in LA that day, while Taylor was slaying in this photo shoot in NYC.

Rolling Stone Interview

2 weeks before that photo Taylor's 1989 Rolling Stone interview came out. Which is a bit humble-braggy and possibly from her own hurt and wanting to protect the private she minimised their relationship. She said it's pointless to date if you're not in love and watching her dating has become a national past time. RS said she sounded jaded when she said her life is not conducive to bringing other people into it. She doesn't say much about Harry, but ends that section with saying Style should have been called "I’m Not Even Sorry."

To a hopeless romantic like Harry who wore he heart on his sleeve I can see why he could write a song like Fools Gold. He was much kinder to their relationship in his RS interview for example.

Four

Its on Four which also included Stockholm Syndrome. It released in 17 November 2014, 3 weeks after 1989. Harry has talked about making the album (21 mins) under mattresses in hotel rooms. There is footage that set up at 34 mins into the TV special. In that context, a 20 year old rockstar slipping in an older reference to a guitar ballard about heartbreak is a lovely glimpse of the artist he would become.

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Niall] I'm like a crow on a wire You're the shinin' distraction that makes me fly home I'm like a boat on the water You're the raise on the waves that calm my mind, oh, every time

A crow on a wire is a lonely dark figure sitting above everything, drawn to fly to the shiny Taylor. Taylor calls Harry shiny later in DBATC. Several of Harry's tattoos and songs are about coming home, Taylor was with him when he got the ship tattoo. Here, the rise of the waves is the current that brings him there, what draws him in. This Love makes the same analogy of a high tide bringing Harry back. This is a theme in later songs like Sweet Creature.

[Pre-Chorus: Harry] But I know in my heart You're not a constant star

The pre-chorus references Case of You's opening line: "Just before our love got lost you said / "I am as constant as a northern star" / And I said, "Constantly in the darkness / Where's that at? / If you want me I'll be in the bar"

The northern star is not constant, it moves. In the opening of Case of You, the muse saying "I won't be a constant for you" which leads Joni to drink. Here Harry is saying his muse is fickle.

[Chorus: Harry, All] And, yeah, I've let you use me from the day that we first met But I'm not done yet Falling for your fool's gold And I knew that you turned it on for everyone you met But I don't regret Falling for your fool's gold

Harry goes on to say he is feeling used by the muse, possibly because he doesn't see that his feelings of longing and wanting a great love are reciprocated. But he's not done, and is being constant in loving her. He sees that she is a Mirrorball, and feeling like he was played. With hindsight we know they both felt a little this way, and maybe that sentiment is why he never played this song.

Harry is also a fool in Just a Little Bit of Your Heart (JALBOYH).

[Verse 2: Liam] I'm the first to admit that I'm reckless I get lost in your beauty and I can't see two feet in front of me [Bridge: Zayn] Yeah, I know your love's not real That's not the way it feels That's not the way you feel

In the bridge Harry again says he sees it is reckless to fall for his muse, but is anyway. He is telling himself the muse doesn't feel the same way but it feels like they do. I think in hindsight, knowing they both continued in this way for another decade that it would have been confusing to have a different private and public lives. The launch of 1989 would have been the first time Taylor talked about their love in a real way, and it was minimised in most of the promos with refrains of 'the overriding feeling was anxiety'.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Strawberry Lipgloss [8]

"Okay," I tell dad through my sleepy eyes and groggy voice. "I have to make this believable." Dad nods ferociously, eyebrows drawn together curiously. 

"So, excuse me for a moment," I say, holding up a finger and clearing my throat. Then, I scream a good, long, loud, unnecessary scream.

Dad flinches and I can't help but smile when he glares at me, clicking his tongue and undoubtedly disapproving of my unsavory tactics.

I finish my scream and cough a bit. That should be enough, seeing as I've managed to kickstart a scratchy throat.

I fish my phone out of my carry on bag and dial my boss's number. He ends up scowling at my excuse, but I think my coughing and hoarse voice passed his bullshit test. I promised him I'd be heading to the doctor while taking my day off.

My bags were packed and ready to go right before I headed to bed last night. I only left out a change of clothes and my toothbrush and toothpaste for the morning before packing them too. 

I packed my mask as well. I wouldn't be meeting The Faces without it, after all.

A nervous smile pulls at my lips as I think of the intricate purple mask hiding safely in my luggage. I'll be putting it to good use for the first time ever tonight and the reminder sends a rejuvenating pulse through my body.

I'm going to be boarding my flight in about two hours and I'm so excited that I physically and mentally cannot stay still. I'm fantasizing about our meeting, wondering how it'll go.

Larry would probably notice me first and know that I was there. He would jump around like a lunatic and hug me, then try to pick me up with his little lanky self. I'm genuinely looking forward to finally being able to see his long, luscious hair that he's been growing since he was a teenager. 

I haven't seen a photo of Larry since he was eighteen-- he's nearly twenty three now, so I'm sure his hair is incredibly long. He better not have cut it.

Sal will, hopefully, not associate me with a certain Lexi. But would he be kind to me? Would he recognize my voice?

I don't know what to expect of Todd, seeing as he's such a formal guy, but I know Ash is going to know me just by stance alone.

I can't wait to embrace my best friend, feel her warmth and the rush of emotions that'll come with finally being reunited.

I carry these thoughts with me as I tell my dad goodbye, giving him a tight hug and promising to stay safe. I ponder a bit more as I pass through security. I giggle and smile to myself while waiting outside my gate, and I pull out my phone to text Ash just because I can't keep all this excitement to myself as I settle into my seat towards the back of the plane.

All this excitement made the time pass ridiculously fast.

My veins are filled with never-ending adrenaline. My sleep-deprived brain is running on straight expectations and hope. My heart is pumping out optimism and begging for a break, but my mind doesn't let up. We're going to hold onto these positive emotions until we have to go home.

Me hiya ashy!! how's vegas? :P

Ashers &lt;3 Hi baby!!!! Vegas is awesome so far. We're up at the crack ass of dawn  (Larry and Sal hate it but Todd and  I are troopers) for a meeting with some other popular streamers out  here. I think it's some kind of  breakfast meet and greet thing??? Idk. But how are you!!

Me well, not suffering like you guys lmao. just getting ready for an 8 o'clock  shift. the usual.

Ashers &lt;3 Yuck :( make sure you punch your boss for me. He's the whole reason I won't be seeing you!!!

Me no issue there. i've been waiting to lay a good one on him for ages. you're just giving me a good excuse to actually go through with it :3

Ashers &lt;3 That is my job as your bad influence ;)

Me prayer hands to that, babe. wouldn't be where i am today without miss ash's guidance <333

Yes, I know, I should just tell Ash that I'm literally about to take off on a flight headed straight to Las Vegas, but the prospect of surprising her-- seeing the elation and shock on her face-- I can't pass that up. This'll be worth it.

"Would you like something to drink before we take off, ma'am?" 

My head flies up and I meet a flight attendant's smiling gaze. Her lips are a fiery red, her hair meticulously and beautifully fixed into blonde waves flowing down her back.

I gape at her beauty for a moment before smiling politely. "Um, would you happen to have coffee? Or tea?" I ask after a moment, wincing at my own awkward question. I just really need some kind of caffeine. 

"We have both!" she chirps, her sweet voice reminding me of Ash's. I can't help but smile wider at the connection. "Which would you prefer?"

"Coffee, if possible," I say, squeezing my phone a little tighter in my hands.

"Great! Creamer and sugar as well?" 

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you!" I tell her, to which she nods then walks over to the seat in front of me to ask the people ahead the same thing.

I glance down at my phone again just as our pilot announces that we'll be taking off within a few moments. That means I won't be able to talk to Ash for a bit.

Ashers &lt;3 Aww, you're too sweet, my little love. I'll always be here to catch you when you fall :D

Me i would hope so!! i have to go though, so i'll text you in a bit when i get a break, kay?

Ashers &lt;3 Sure thing, sweetness!  Se latrevo <3333

Me ermmmmm i love you too??? if that's what that means?

Ashers &lt;3 It's Greek for "I adore you!!!" 

Me cute <333 se latrevo too (LMAO)

I close my phone with a smile as the wheels of the plane start moving, only gaining speed as we practically fly down the runway. Exhilaration takes over my entire body as I look away from the woman beside me and stare at the fast moving objects outside of the little window.

The plane lifts from the ground and my stomach practically jumps in my body, all my limbs tensing up as I cling to the tray in front of me. That's it, I'm officially unable to go back on my last-minute plans.

It feels a bit refreshing knowing that I have no other option now. For the longest time (all night and all morning), I didn't think I'd actually be able to do it, but here I am. And I'm so proud of myself for this.

With my head held high as my coffee gets placed down beside me, I look around the inside of the airplane, glancing away from people who suddenly meet my gaze. I'm not embarrassed though, I'm on top of the world right now. There isn't a single thing that could turn my mindset around. 

I'm going to finally fucking see my friends!

My eyes travel along the various rows of seats that I can physically see (which isn't all that much) and I'm momentarily blessed by the sight of a little fur baby passing by my row.

I perk up a bit more instantly, smiling as the woman sitting beside me spews out an audible, "Oh my goodness! Look at that baby!"

I watch the exchange between the woman and pet owner, noting the yellow lab who sits right on top of its owners feet, tongue hanging out of its mouth like it doesn't have a care in the world. The little vest around it's body catches my eye and I find myself respecting the lady beside me for not reaching out to pet the sweet baby. It's a medical service dog.

"What's their name?" The woman beside me asks, smiling down at the dog who pants heavily.

"Her name is Yeager," The owner says proudly, giving their dog a little head pat. "She's a cardiac alert dog, so thank you for letting her do her job."

"Oh, no need, honey!" The woman says politely before smiling at little (well, rather large actually) Yeager again. "What a hard-working little thing! She's such a good girl."

Watching the exchange suddenly turns into a horror movie for me, actually, it's a bit more like a nightmare in which I can't wake from. You know, when you're being chased but you physically can't move. That's exactly how I feel-- the freeing feeling of taking flight is replaced by the very obvious realization that I can no longer escape the personal hell that I've stuck myself in.

Fuck. Oh no.

I've really made a terrible mistake. Why couldn't my father have let me cry for a few days?

Is there any possible way for me to get off this plane? I don't care if I lose my life. It's better than landing in Vegas within the next hour. 

We're already over three thousand and something feet in the air and probably traveling over a hundred mph, but maybe I can just... you know... pop open the emergency hatch and launch myself out of it. At least everyone would be able to talk about how I went sky-diving at my funeral. 

The woman and the owner of Yeager continue to chat for a bit while I try to contain my flaming cheeks and wide eyes, pushing down the memory that holds me in a vice grip-- it's like I'm bound in chains, forced to listen to everything all over again.

How could I have forgotten? And worse, why did this woman calling a dog a good girl resurface the fucking memory? I'm losing it. It's official.

I was so preoccupied with not being able to go to Las Vegas that I forgot why I really shouldn't fucking go. And now it's too late.

I completely ignored the lingering memory of one of the most exhilarating nights of my life. 

Yea, I'm an idiot. An unremarkable one, mind you, who was, again, reminded of Sal and I's salacious act simply because a woman uttered the words "good" and "girl" to a dog. The dog isn't my issue because she is, in fact, a good girl. I'm just shocked that I've traveled this low on the pyramid of idiocy and lunacy. 

Sigmund Freud really would have loved me.

I finally decide to just duck my head down and let it rest on my tray, nearly knocking over my fresh, scalding hot coffee. My eyes are still wide as I cross my arms around my head, my cheeks still burning with the rage of 25,000 babies being denied titties. I mean, what better way to explain how betrayed I feel? And not to mention, I'm the damn betrayer. I've betrayed myself. Larry would be proud of that statement, at least.

Sally and I haven't talked about what happened-- nor do I want to talk about what happened (it's unavoidable). We haven't even spoken since he left me hanging like a little bitch when Larry jumped into the voice chat and scared the orgasm out of me. 

Somewhere, somehow, my unconscious brain decided it would be a fantastic idea to have the conversation with Sally in person. Now, I'm forced to do just that. Fucking hell. 

I gulp down my overwhelming feelings. There's no going back now, unfortunately. I'll just have to devise a plan that keeps Sally Face's mouth shut until we're alone (which I pray never happens) or until I'm back home, safe and sound. 

Actually, this might be good for me. Sally, despite his shitty vendetta against me, is actually pretty shy and quiet in person. I doubt he'd be brave enough to say anything out loud, so maybe this will prolong the time I have before having to talk to him about our weird phone sex thing that happened the other night.

I mentally pat myself on the back. Maybe I'm not all that dumb. I, miraculously, have some kind of intellectual influence deep down for me to be this smart about avoiding an unwanted talk with my enemy. Perfect.

Doesn't change the fact that Sally is dangerously hot though, by the way.

Either way, I have to look Sally in the eye later knowing that I heard him beating the crap out of his dick to the thought of me. I'll never forget it, and part of me doesn't want to. It was really good.

And I'll also have to look him in the eye knowing that I completely submitted to him and tried to defy him in the end. And he'll know that too.

The thought makes me shiver and I feel like I might vomit for a moment. Whether I have to talk to Sally or not about what we did, I absolutely have to be near him tonight even if I don't want to. I can't escape his presence any longer.

If I think about my future dilemmas any more, I actually will jump out of this plane and risk everyone else inside of it the second I open this emergency hatch. Which, by the way, said emergency hatch is perfectly placed beside me like it was planned out beforehand that I'd sit in a place where I could make a quick getaway. That's it, death by sky-diving is my destiny.

Fuck this-- not like I can actually go back to twenty minutes ago and step off this plane. My fate is sealed and so is my fucking seat belt.

I huff out a quiet, pitiful sigh and close my eyes, wiggling in my seat to get into a better position. My coffee will go cold, but it's better than stressing over the near future knowing I had no time to prepare. Not to mention, any announcement from the pilot would probably stress me out and make me think I'll die. So a nap will do better than my anxiety will for the next hour.

And my nap turns out to be atrocious. I'm trapped in a cage, Sal's tattooed arms chaining me in. It's almost morbid-- especially since I still took the time to trace every inch of what I could remember about the intricate designs on his skin. I am a mess even when asleep and the messy part of my brain follows me into the waking world when a gentle shake startles me from my stupid ass dream.

I throw my head up, eyes wide as I turn to the woman beside me. She has a gentle smile on her lightly worn features, a couple grey hairs peaking through the dark strands that hang over her shoulder. She has a bag in her hand as she stands and people rush past her.

We've landed.

I take a deep, sleepy breath and smile at the woman. "Thank you," I mumble the raspy words, stretching quickly before standing up. "Didn't realize I slept so long."

"That's alright, sweetie," the woman says comfortingly. At least she's nice-- though, I'd gathered that much from the way she spoke to Yeager earlier. "Just wanted to make sure you got off the flight." She gives me a little nod then turns, walking off of the plane.

I deflate in my seat and watch a wave of jet-lagged people pass through the aisle in front of me, waiting for the crowd to clear up before I start gathering my things. I'm in no rush now, remembering that I'll be seeing Sally Face come nightfall.

But I'll also be seeing Ash, Larry, and Todd...

I lift myself from my seat with a grunt and push past a few people to quickly grab my bag from the compartment above my row of seats. 

After getting off the plane, waiting for my second bag isn't too rough. It takes a good ten minutes for it to finally pop up on a conveyer belt, but I take off to a Starbucks next to the bag pick-up area to grab breakfast, which consists of a bagel, a cake pop, and a peppermint mocha frappuccino because it's my favorite bitch coffee ever.

I travel through the airport, one bag on my shoulder (which holds my breakfast) as I drag my suitcase behind me and glance around with my green straw in my mouth, constantly sipping on my cold coffee that is ten times better than whatever I ordered on the plane, clearly, since I ended up throwing it away anyway.

People whiz past me, disappearing up escalators or squeezing through packed doorways. I don't wish to be anywhere near it, I mean, who would? That's an anxious nightmare, but I know I'll have to subject myself to that torture eventually. I might as well just get it over with now so I can hail a taxi and get to my hotel. Then, I can hide for the rest of the day until tonight.

I push past a few people as I make my way to the doors leading out of the airport. I wish I could get a good look at my surroundings because the airport is ginormous, but I'm too focused on getting out of dodge. I have so many things I want to look forward to and want to avoid all at the same time, but I can't do that until I finally have time to relax in my hotel room.

I manage to panic enough to the point where I disregard anyone ahead of me in line and just grab a taxi toward the back, more than ready to get to my hotel and crash for the next few hours. I don't even want to think about how excited I am to see Larry, Ash, and Todd because the fear of seeing Sally just completely ruins it.

So I get dropped off at a plain Hilton a couple blocks away from the strip at about twelve in the afternoon, check into my room, and drag the remainder of my dignity as well as my heavy bags up a few stories before finally just crashing onto my bed.

I want to cry because I'm starting to wonder if this was a bad idea, but I am in Las Vegas. Dad paid for me to come visit my friends, so I have to do it. I'm sure it'll work out anyway. I doubt it'll turn out too bad, my head is just messing with me like it always does.

But right now, things just suck. The only good thing about my trip at this exact moment is that my bed is insanely comfortable. That's a pretty awesome outcome seeing as I just want to sleep to ignore all of my worries.

My day seems to fly by as though it's been sped up. My plane ride was made quick due to me being so much of a mess, and now my day is gone since I somehow wake up at about six in the evening.

I'm too distressed to put an actual meal in my stomach, so my dinner consists of complimentary cookies that got dropped onto my tray in the airplane. I can't stomach anything more than that. And for the rest of the time, I watch a few reruns of The Office, tucked into the sheets of my bed with the comforter pulled up to my chin.

At some point, I lift my phone that's been laying face down on my bed to see a missed call from Ash, a few texts in the Discord chat, and then I notice that it's fucking 8:30 pm.

On a normal day, I'd use my lateness as an excuse to just not go altogether, but I didn't waste dad's money and I didn't come all the way here to not see my friends.

I can call, well, talk to Ash later. She'll be seeing me soon anyway.

So, I jump out of bed with a frustrated curse slipping past my lips and run into the bathroom beside my bed. It's a small room, not like I need anything big. I'm just one person.

I'll have to be... fashionably late, I suppose. No issues there. I'm sure many people are going to show up late. It's not like it'll end thirty minutes after it begins, right?

I take a quick shower, blow dry my hair, and put on some eyeliner and mascara. I'm not trying to make a statement. If anything, I'm trying to fly under the radar. Hopefully the little bit of makeup conceals me from being recognized. The last thing I want is for Larry or Todd to recognize me as y/n.

After my face and hair are done, I throw on fishnets and tuck a Fall Out Boy shirt into a black skirt that rests on my hips, then I throw on my worn black and white, hightop vans.

It's nothing special. My boi Kieran said to wear whatever, so I am. At least the fishnets add a little fun to the look.

My last little addition is the mask I bought just a few days ago. It feels as though it weighs hundreds of pounds in my two small hands. But not in a bad way-- I just cherish it so much that the weight of its unspoken value almost seems to double as I simply gaze upon it.

With a breath, I situate it onto my face, tucking the straps under my hair.

I pack a few bills into the back of my phone case and check my bank account, making sure I have a bit of money there too in case I need it. Then I finally run out of my room and out of the hotel in general, hailing a taxi who takes me through the city, adding another thirty minutes to my trip because of traffic.

Despite my poor punctuality, I can't help but feel mesmerized by all the tall, lit up buildings swarmed with people. And once the MGM Grand comes into view, I feel nervous with all the people hanging around the entrance like a pond of alligators waiting to feast upon my bones. It's a scary feeling, but hopefully I can squeeze past everyone and find where I need to go.

My taxi stops in the middle of people, right in front of the door. It's worst case scenario-- I have to step out in the middle of a raving crowd. I don't want that, but what else can I do?

I scramble out of the car, swinging around in a panic when the taxi screeches off behind me. I stare at the spot that repopulates with people instantly, all chatting and looking up at the giant, towering building in front of us.

It's hypnotizing, beautiful. I feel dizzy just by staring up at the roof that covers the driveway before I look over to the doors that almost seem to glow. But unfortunately, the moment doesn't last long because I can't see much through the ridiculous amount of bodies in my way.

Las Vegas sucks while I have my feet on the ground. There are way too many people which makes the views hard to enjoy, especially as I find myself fighting through everyone in my way who just wants casino's.

I eventually stagger through the doorway, trying to hold myself back from running over to a desk with a few workers hanging around. Damn, I really want to go back to my hotel. I've had enough of being around people today.

My stomach feels queazy and my limbs tremble a bit as I take quick steps, my presence easily gaining the attention of a lady working behind the counter.

She smiles politely at me, but a curious, almost wary look crosses her gaze as she watches me walk up. She's probably confused by the mask, but I don't have the time or the desire to explain why I'm wearing it.

"Um, hi," I murmur, smiling carefully. "I'm trying to, uh, get to the roof. For the party." The words are almost too quiet, so I force myself to speak louder despite the tremor tainting my voice. 

"Oh," the woman says sweetly, still eyeing me carefully. "I need to see your invite, then." She's kind, but something about her forced expression tells me she fucking hates her job.

I pull my phone from the waistband of my skirt and open up my email to get to the invite before passing the device to her. I watch as her eyes scan over my phone and she purses her lips before handing it back to me. 

She looks down, grabbing a clipboard. "Name?" she asks.

Yikes. I mean, it wouldn't be my actual name right? Kieran doesn't know me-- he only knows Vi.

"Um, VioletViolence," I whisper, cracking my knuckles and trying to keep my feet still. I don't need to scuff up this nice floor.

The woman's eyes narrow as she drags her eyes over the paper, flipping it to another sheet before her eyes widen a bit, "Aha!" she exclaims, like she's proud of herself. "Here you are. I'll give you a passcode for the top floor, you have to put it in as soon as you get into the elevator. After that, you're good to go!"

She cheered up a lot. I guess it helped to find out that I'm not some random crazy person.

"Oh, okay. Thanks," I smile cautiously.

Turns out, the passcode to the roof is 1989, just like the Taylor Swift album. That'll be easy to remember.

I punch the code into the elevator nervously, watching as a little green light envelops the button for the roof. Then, I travel slowly upwards for what feels like five full minutes until the doors finally open up to a party that practically smacks me in the face.

I look through the crowd, my heart beating wildly while a mix of electronic and rock music pulses in the air around me. People take up almost every inch of space on this rooftop. At some point, I note the LED lighted (and probably heated) pool crowded with randoms.

My eyes wander every which way in awe. I've never been to Vegas in my life, but the view is so much more than I expected now that I'm able to actually get a good look at it. Everything is exceptionally tall, super modernized and lavish, and lit up with a plethora of colored lights. Actually, I can see The Venetian from here.

I make my way to the edge of the rooftop, squeezing past people to get a good glimpse of the lights, buildings and moving life below me. 

This moment feels so surreal. I'm surrounded by people I don't know, just like I have been all damn day, looking for my four-- three-- friends who aren't even expecting me. Right here, in this moment, I'm alone in one of America's busiest and most well-know cities.

I have so many fucking options. Hell, if I really wanted to, I could jump from this roof to the balcony below and get cheered on. Everything-- anything-- goes in Las Vegas.

The area is fun, but the situation is dangerous. I'm feeling risky. It's a stark contrast to how nervous I was moments ago, but seeing all of Las Vegas from up here has brought me back to life in a way.

To my left is a pool side bar, though, which will ultimately help me in the long run. If I want to pursue my risky thoughts that I'm too afraid to act on when sober, then alcohol is a good start.

I push through bodies again, holding onto one half of my mask in fear. I think I'd call it quits on life if I get pushed around so much that it falls off. Genuinely, I'd just pack up and leave.

Out of everything though, that's my only true fear at the moment, even with the lingering reminder that I'll have to find The Faces soon. I have, well, used to have horrible social anxiety, and yet here I am in one of the most social situations I've even laid my eyes on in years.

Here, I actually have to converse with people unlike whenever I was in the airport and getting into this casino/hotel--whatever it is. This right here is something to feel good about.

I'm proud of myself.

I weave past another person and slap a hand onto the bar counter, hanging on for dear life when a few people shove past me and nearly take me with them. Wincing, I make awkward eye contact with the bartender who just stares at me. 

Yea, asshole. Could have helped.

"Whatcha got?" The bartender asks, filling up multiple glasses. I know he's busy. There are people in every free spot around the bar. What a fucking party, right?

"Um, can I get a screwdriver, I guess?" I yell to him, trying to make sure he can hear me over the music. 

He nods once, grabbing another glass. "$15."

My eyes practically shoot out of my head and I feel like I'll choke on the way I'm being strangled with my pretty much empty bank account. "Is that a joke?" I cough out, watching as he fills the glass up with the equivalent to three shots.

The bartender shoots me a frustrated look that immediately tells me he isn't kidding.

He puts a splash of orange juice into what I would consider straight fucking alcohol then scoots it over to me.

I wince, giving my glass a little twirl in hopes to give myself some clarity and not straight vodka towards the bottom of the glass. Then, I pull a $20 from the back of my phone case and pass it to him. "Keep the change," I murmur, plucking a straw from a styrofoam cup then returning to my task of attempting to find The Faces.

Honestly, finding the group in a sea of people like this is probably impossible. There are just so many bodies and not enough consideration for the poor souls (me) trying to find their way around. 

I can just barely make out an unoccupied stage. There's a microphone set up on it and speakers towards the back. It's right on the edge of the large rooftop, so maybe I'll be able to find some space there and catch a breath before I keep looking.

And of course, I could make this easier for myself and just call Ash. I could make this entire search simpler for everyone by letting her know that I have shown up. Who wouldn't do that?

But I'm scared. I love Ash more than anything and she's my best friend, but I also haven't seen her, Larry, or Todd in over ten years. The thought of physically reconnecting after so long worries me. Talking online is easy compared to actually being there, in person, flesh and all, for the thought process of every single question and answer. What if we all are too awkward and don't know how to physically speak to each other?

It's an anxious worry that makes me shiver as I break through the end of the thick crowd.

Suddenly though, I don't have any time left to worry again like I've been doing all day.

I should have known that Sally Face would be as close as he could possibly be to music. Thus, there he is, standing in front of the stage with his back leaned against the edge. And where he goes, the rest of the group goes.

All the air leaves my lungs all at once. My feet are cemented to the ground and my free hand bunches into the fabric of my black skirt.

They stand in a row-- Sally, Ash, Larry, then Todd.

Sally Face is the shortest one in the group. I never would have suspected it just by meeting him once. I mean, he isn't exactly short. I'd say he must be between five foot eight and five foot ten. That's a decent height. But Ash is a head taller than him-- that alone shocks me into stillness. And Larry is even taller than Ash. Then Todd is about Ash's height.

As always, Sally looks delectable. Just looking at him once fills me with memories of his sultry, dirty words and the feeling of his skin beneath my fingertips. What a dangerously frustrating man.

He's wearing a tan, almost sandy colored, Memphis May Fire shirt paired with black jeans and classic vans. The neutral colors clash wildly against the bright, slap-you-in-the-face color of his hair alongside his expressionless prosthetic, but I'm into it. He looks so fucking good and I can see the tattoos on his arms so well.

How I ache to run my hands over every inch of ink covering his skin. To see him flinch beneath my touch again. To read his story depicted in images that stain his body. It's a deep yearning that fills me with a feeling akin to rage-- it's just as euphoric, adrenaline-inducing, and deteriorating as rage is to me. 

My eyes rake over him inch by inch, dragging up and down slowly until I've memorized each curve, crevice, freckle, scar, and every other little thing easy to miss regarding his physical body.

I wish I could see more of him. I want nothing more than to peel that prosthetic off of his face and get a look at the beauty he hides so desperately. I just know deep in my soul that he's pretty. There's no way a handsome asshole like him wouldn't have a pretty face.

His electric blue eyes rake across the area in front of him, but he thankfully never looks at me. It gives me an open opportunity to ogle him from afar. 

I trail my eyes from his bruised fingertips, all over his ink-stained forearms while I meticulously map out each twist and turn of the veins that lead up to his lightly bulging biceps. Then, I follow the curves of his lightly scarred neck. 

Somehow, the in-person image of his pretty throat is better than the photo Larry sent me. That shattered sword tattoo glints under the lights, a result of the thin sheen of sweat on his skin. It brings out the barely noticeable differences in the color of his skin-- his scars. They're lining the underside of his jaw and just a bit on the left side of his neck. I wish I could bite into his skin.

His messy hair and fringe cover the top and sides of his prosthetic, but I'm still able to get a good look at the dips and curves of every inch of it. I'm even able to see the top corner of his prosthetic that's pink instead of white. I wonder why that is.

But even if they aren't real, I can't help but stare at his prosthetic lips. Someday, I'll get to feel his real lips behind the barrier between me and his face.

I try to shake off the simp side of my brain, shocked at my own thoughts. Why am I so eager just over one look at him? Am I that bad off right now? This is an issue.

Sally Face is dangerous.

He has this confident, god-like aura about him that drips with the equivalent to gold-- if there was a color to describe the way he acts, it would be gold. It's in his stance, in his sharp and hypnotizing gaze, in the way he curls his fingers towards himself in a gesture as Ash watches him-- they're likely talking. 

Sally face is tantalizing in every aspect of who he is. Personality, looks, vibes. I want my fingers in his cerulean hair so I can ruffle up the soft looking, layered waves. I want to drag my fingertips down the few scars littering his neck. I want to shatter that sword on his throat a little more, see how much deeper he can break. I want his pale skin between my teeth, and I want his gaze on me. 

But these are silly thoughts. I can't embrace or act on them. Especially not right now.

I turn my gaze to Ash, the reincarnated Aphrodite dripping in modern eloquence. When imagining the most beautiful woman to walk the earth, I'd think of her over and over again. I feel that anyone else would, too. 

Ash's hair has grown since her major cut about a year ago, it's just hanging over her shoulders, brushing her upper back. It's the color of silky chocolate, flowing smoothly and elegantly as though she'd spent hours preparing it. And hell, maybe she did spend a while fixing it up. But the point is that she makes effort look effortless. 

The model-like air about her is swathed in a kind-hearted and welcoming feeling that comes just from seeing her do something as simple as smile. Ash is completely one of a kind, an alien in a realm where beauty is misguided and thought to be something else entirely. She's too breathtaking to be walking within ten feet of me. She's too good for this universe she's been sent to.

Ash is wearing a maroon colored dress that hugs her curves in every perfect place possible. There's a slit going up the right side of the dress-- her thigh squeezes against the fabric, more than likely attracting every person's attention within a three-mile radius. She's simply and utterly a sight to behold.

Not like she needs makeup, but even the little bit that she's wearing on her celestially stunning face compliments her dress, her personality, and her overall aura perfectly. Just a little bit of a dark brown shade on her eyelids, accentuating the glowing color of her viridian irises as she, oh shit, makes eye contact with me. But it's only for a moment before she... looks away again? 

Anyway, her pearly white teeth are on display when Sally nudges her, pointing off into another direction. Each of her features lifts with the action and makes her look even more otherworldly. She's something else entirely.

I continue dragging my eyes along the entire group, passing my gaze over Larry now who absolutely blows my mind. In fact, I can't quite believe that it's the same scrawny, metal-loving, long-haired, emo teenager I last saw a photo of just two years ago. 

Larry is ripped in every meaning and centimeter of the word. He used to be an awkward, lanky guy-- but now, his biceps seem like they're hardly able to fit into his plain black t-shirt, even his chest is squeezing against the fabric. Veins protrude over the inside of his forearms-- a tidbit I notice when he gestures over to Ash to mention something. 

Small tattoos litter various areas of his tanned arms, little crosses or x's, I even see a My Chemical Romance and Sanity's Fall tattoo on him. The ink is a beautiful complement to his honey-colored skin. He's incredibly handsome, I'll give him that. Even in just a plain shirt, black jeans, and red converse-- he's killing the look and making it something unique to him. Actually, I'll bet he wore that shirt because it looks best on him. 

I trail my eyes up his sculpted neck and to his striking, chiseled face that seems to have matured quite a bit in the past couple years. His eyes are a mesmerizing and dominant shape that beautifully accompanies his dark brown eyes that seem to mimic the shade of black coffee with just a splash of creamer. His angular cheekbones and jawline make him seem like a fully functioning Roman sculpture come to life. And more than anything, I'm so excited to see that the cute gap between his front teeth is still present when he flashes a hypnotizing smile to his left while running a tattooed hand through his hair.

Larry's septum is pierced, a new addition to his look that I didn't hear of. While a minimal difference, it gives him a boost in the 'attractive guy' department. He looks so different, but so familiar. All in all, he looks just as lickable as Sal does, only he's one of my best friends and I absolutely refuse to pursue anything that could break the bond I have with him.

I finally turn to Todd, a fleshed out man who's incredibly elegant in his own right. He's drool-worthy in a contrasting way compared to the rest of the group-- he's the embodiment of an academia professor and he's absolutely killing the look.

Todd's face is cherubic, angelic even but still handsome in a way that seems to make him shine in the dark of the night. The curves of his face are visible, but not sharp and cut-throat like Larry's features are, for example. Little light freckles paint the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks, bringing out the inebriating color of his nearly colorless, inky eyes. Thin lips and a light brush of facial hair on his chin really brings his pretty features together to make him look even more attractive, especially under the moonlight and LEDs. 

His curly, red hair is styled in a side part, a singular curl hanging over his forehead in a way that fills me with an urge to push the hair into place with the rest. And perhaps he styled his hair like that on purpose, to make everyone yearn to touch him. 

He's dressed in black trousers that are perfectly ironed, a white, button-up dress shirt, and a dark grey blazer that could almost be considered some type of trench coat if not for the style. Then, a pair of shiny black dress shoes.

Todd pulls off the look wonderfully, and never in my life did I imagine I would ever see him sporting dark colors, but the neutral and darker shades look amazing on him. Compared to the monotonous, bright-colored boy I knew as a child, Todd has matured into what he was always meant to be. And fuck, Neil is a lucky guy.

All of my friends are so hot that they are too hot for me. How could I possibly walk up to the equivalent to famous paintings and sculptures? I mean, they're so perfect that I feel as though I need to do a double-take because I can't wrap my head around the fact that they're real. How can anyone be so absolutely gorgeous? Not to mention, four of them standing side-by-side in the same exact place at the same time. And the slim chances that they all became best friends just tops it off and I feel burning jealousy over the thought of it.

I'm not jealous over their friendship or their looks, just that they seem so happy. Joy and true contentment is a feeling I've chased all my life, but never quite gotten close enough to grasp. To know that my full potential with happiness is out of reach, but they're bathing in the feeling... it makes me feel even farther from getting to embrace positivity.

But maybe this is a sign. Maybe they are my opportunity to drown in the throes of joy. Maybe they're meant to be my happiness-- my contentment personified, depicted in the form of actual physical, human beings.

Could be. I've never looked for parts of myself in others because I've always felt that my own emotions are something I have to achieve on my own.

Maybe I've been looking at everything all wrong. Maybe... maybe my morals are outlandish and out of place to the point that I've been depriving myself of real chances to feel something.

I know this-- I literally see an open opportunity to pursue one of my biggest dreams right in front of me, and yet I'm still unable to move my feet. I can't make myself finally meet what I've always wanted.

I can't even tell my friends hello.

This is pissing me off. Why can't I fucking move? I flew out last minute and have spent hours waiting alone to surprise my friends, but I'm too cowardly to actually spend time with them? Absolutely pathetic. I'm disappointed in myself and I'm tired of feeling that way.

I pat a hand around the top of my drink until I grab onto my straw. I pull it into my mouth and gulp down liquid fire as I let my eyes continue wandering over The Faces repeatedly. Yea, I probably look like a creep but I won't be able to walk up to them unless I have something to boost my confidence. As far as I'm concerned, alcohol is the only confidence I have. And if I look away from the group, I could lose them. I don't want to trek through this minefield to find them again.

It takes me a moment to trick myself into thinking that the alcohol will take effect immediately, but my legs finally move. I feel like I'm floating-- and way too fast at that-- as I grow closer and closer to the group, looking to Ash like a lifeline. 

Out of everyone here, I'm closest with her and I'm begging, praying with just my eyes that she looks over and recognizes me and helps me grow accustomed to finally being around again.

More importantly, I hope no one is awkward with me. I think I'll just turn around and catch a plane back home if shit flops.

I get close enough to the point that Ash turns to me with a mix of curiosity and concern dancing in her eyes. I feel self-conscious beneath her gaze, but the look in her eyes slowly turns into something interesting and I find myself shrinking a bit as I stop my pursuit just two feet away from her.

My vans scuff the ground when I stop and I tilt my head up to look into her enthralling green eyes. My heart pounds wildly against my ribcage and my palms grow clammy all the while Ash simply grins down at me. Her irises twinkle, an intrigued look passing through her gaze.

"Hi," her soft, melodic voice purrs. "Nice to meet you."

Oh.

I'm thrown off by the fact that she can't recognize me, but when the mask is taken into account as well as the fact that she hasn't seen a photo of me since I was sixteen, it's understandable.

Not only that, I'm preoccupied on the thought that it seems she may be trying to flirt with me.

"Hi," I greet back, fighting off any possible signs of nervousness. I'll murder my anxiety if I can't play off my fear right now. One thing's for sure though, I don't have to worry about any awkwardness. "We've met before," I add in, giggling a bit.

I shock myself when the sound comes out a bit seductive. I don't mean to flirt back-- but what's the problem with that? Ash is my best friend for one, we flirt all the time, but she's also fucking stunning. I see no problems.

Ash tilts her head, scrunching her eyebrows as she flashes her perfect smile at me. Her eyes trail over my body and I instantly feel myself stiffen, heat washing over my cheeks. Her reaction to me is real-- this isn't us acting friendly because we know each other. This is Ash rizzing up a stranger.

"Really? I think I'd remember you if we've already met," she says with a soft laugh, chewing on her bottom lip as our eyes meet again. "When did you see me?"

I suck in a breath, trying to calm my fluttering heart and hot cheeks. "Instead of telling you," I say randomly without any thought, "How about we play a game? The group of you can try and guess who I am." Smiling, I glance over at Larry who's smirking down at me, his sharp eyebrows and deep gaze forcing that blush back to my cheeks.

Todd watches me, expressionless with his hands in the pockets of his neat pants. He doesn't move an inch. 

And I don't dare look at Sally who's been quiet too.

Ash narrows her eyes, pinching her lips together to contain a smile. She glances to Sally then over to Larry and Todd before focusing on me again. "Okay," she hums. "I love games."

I flinch back when she gravitates a bit closer to me, her gaze flickering over my mask then to my lips. Is this the same Ash who screamed in excitement over everything when I was younger? And scarier, I find my heart racing because her interest in me is exciting.

Two can play at this dangerous game.

I take another leisure sip of my drink, bringing it to my mouth with shaky hands as I turn my gaze to Ash's glossy lips. 

Her top lip is a bit bigger than her bottom lip. She has a soft cupid's bow accentuated by highlighter that was purposefully and meticulously placed there. Her lips look soft, plush. Maybe it's just the glitter or the way the lights reflect off her lipgloss. Either way, I'm sure she'd be fun to kiss.

What the fuck am I doing?

Ash leaves my field of vision almost immediately. I look up, noting that she's sat on the edge of the stage with a smirk on her hypnotizing lips like she knows she has me wrapped around her finger.

"So, Mystery Girl," she says, a seductive lilt to her sing-song voice. "Can you give me a little hint to start?"

I glance over, making eye contact with a concerned Sally Face. One of his elbows is propped on the stage behind him and the other is languidly resting on Ash's thigh. 

He watches me carefully, no doubt sizing me up. I've noticed that he finds threats to his group then carefully assesses them. The fact that I'm saying I know Ash probably raised alarm bells in his head.

I look over to Larry next, watching as he raises his eyebrows and turns his back to me, leaning his elbows on the stage as he watches Ash's side profile. He has a really nice, strong back, by the way. Also, I'd love to braid his hair one day.

Todd stays in his same position, he even rolls his eyes when Ash tilts her head at me, waiting for me to give her an answer.

But what kind of hint could I give her? Almost anything I'd say would make her figure me out immediately. I'm really having to think hard about this because everything that comes to mind is something she knows.

I'll have to be careful about this. I have to give her a hint of a hint. Something she may have a memory about, but doesn't know for sure.

I bring my straw to my lips, sipping until I get closer to the bottom. Straight fucking vodka. Damn that bartender.

"Sorry, I'm thinking of a hint. I don't want to give myself away," I muse, throwing a wink at Ash. She immediately grins. "That would take the fun out of the game, wouldn't it?"

Ash giggles cutely as Larry turns around again, watching me with narrowed eyes and a ghost of a smile on his lips. What is that hunk of hotness thinking? I already know what's going through Sal's head-- but is Larry on his level?

"You're right. Take your time," Ash says in her soft, lulling voice.

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, still thinking as hard as I can. I'm coming up with blanks. I need to pull a rabbit out of a hat, but I'm going to have to stall until I get there.

"Want to hug me and see if it feels familiar?" I ask, narrowing my eyes and opening my arms. My hand tightens around my drink as it slowly slides through my fingers.

Ash's eyes widen slightly and she stands again, her feet tapping the ground once she slides off the stage. She looks off to the side and purses her lips, taking just a step toward me. "Can I kiss you instead and see if that feels familiar?"

My breath catches in my throat and the drink in my hand feels even more slippery as I try to jump over this shock hurdle. I need to get myself together and answer her instead of actually going with this insane proposition she's dropped on me like a weight. 

"We aren't familiar in that way, darling," I giggle lightly, letting my arms fall to my side.

Ash shrugs, a guilty grin pulling at her lips. "And? We can just do it anyway."

A deep, amused cackle makes me look past Ash and to Larry who has a hand over his mouth. "Sorry, couldn't hold back the laughs," he snickers. His sharp eyebrows arch further as he raises them at me. "You're in danger, MG."

"That's comforting," I say, laughing at Larry's failed attempt to hide his reaction to me and Ash's flirting. He's an evil little thing and clearly he chases a tense situation to get some laughs. "Maybe Ash is the one in danger."

My eyes cut over to Ash as she takes another step toward me. "Please let me find out if I'm in danger, I promise you won't regret it." She bends her knees just a bit for a moment, clasping her hands together with a mind-swaying look in her eyes. She's begging without words.

I glance at Sally quickly. He's still quiet, but he looks like he's on guard and intrigued at the same time.

Fuck, how do I get out of this. Todd's even standing up straight, watching us with a disgruntled look and curiosity in his eyes. They're expecting me to give in and I'm not entirely sure if I want to say no in the first place. Which is bad. 

I don't have any feelings other than platonic love for Ash, but I've missed her so much that I genuinely would love to kiss her senseless. It's like reconnecting with the other half of my heart for the first time in years-- which, honestly, that's exactly what this is.

"Do you care who I am, Ash?" I ask, tilting my head questioningly. If we're going to kiss, I want to make sure she isn't going to lose her entire head once she finds out who I am. 

"Yes, I want to know who you are. In regards to a kiss, I don't care who you are. When I find out, I'll probably be happy we kissed." She sends me a sweet little smile then licks her bottom lip.

"Okay. Then my only condition is that we are only friends and you have to remember that. Nothing will come of our kiss." I dip my head down a bit, trying to show that I'm being serious.

"If nothing will come of our kiss, then why are we going to do it?" She asks, starting to take quick steps toward me.

I take one step back, just to slow her down until we can finish this conversation. "We're going to do it because you're beautiful and I've missed you so much that I wouldn't be happy with anything less than a kiss."

Ash huffs out a laugh, growing close enough to take my hands into hers and yank me toward her. She towers over me and I have to tilt my head up to get a good view of her. "You must know me well then," she purrs, her expression filled with curiosity and eagerness. She's reckless. It's fun. "Are you ready?"

"I... think so?" I murmur, quickly licking my lips. Ash's cool hand trails up my arm and then to the base of my neck, pulling me closer to her. 

"If you don't want to, say no," Ash says honestly, leaning down so that we're face-to-face. She looks into my eyes, trying to tell me that it's okay to say no. She won't go through with this if I don't want to.

"I-- I want to, I'm just nervous--"

"Don't be nervous. It'll be quick." Ash's serious expression washes away as she glances at my lips then back to my eyes again, pretty smile enveloping her lips again. 

I nod, my heart thumping wildly against my chest as she leans forward. I grab onto Ash's wrist as her other hand gently brushes over my cheek.

And then her lips are on mine. She's still for a moment and so am I, just squeezing my eyes shut as I try to adjust to the feeling of her lips.

They're softer than I expected them to be, but sticky. And for that reason, I grip onto her wrist tighter because it feels like she's stuck to me and I'm not upset about it.

Ash takes my squeeze as a sign, tilting her head a bit. The movement causes her lips to slide perfectly against mine and butterflies flutter to life in my stomach. 

I kiss her back, enjoying the way Ash's lips mold to mine so deliciously. The feeling is addictive and if it weren't for her sudden intake of breath, I'd probably pull her even closer. But her reaction reminds me that we're in public and that this is just a little test.

Ash pulls away just as quickly as she kissed me. She was right-- it was quick. And I actually thoroughly enjoyed it.

My eyes flutter open and I look up. Ash's hands are still on either side of my face, but she watches me with a tilted head and narrowed eyes-- like she's trying to figure me out. Like... the kiss actually gave her a clue, which would make no sense.

Then, she leans forward and slams her lips on mine for just a second. I shake my head once she pulls away and look up at her with a puzzled expression that I just can't control. What the fuck.

"Is your name Victoria?" Ash turns her head to the side, eyes wide and brows furrowed like even she's confused.

I choke on air over the near accuracy. What the fuck kind of succubus is Ash? How on earth did a kiss give her the first two letters of my nickname? Is this some joke? Does she already know?

"No, my name isn't Victoria," I force out through coughs, wheezing as I blink through my tears.

Ash lets me go, putting a hand on her hip and another on her chin like a real Sherlock Holmes.

I glance over at the boys quickly. Larry has wide eyes and a shit-eating grin on his face. Sally's looking away from us with his hands resting between his legs. He isn't slick. Todd is just shaking his head.

Men.

"Well, who the hell are you?" Ash murmurs to herself. 

An audible, obnoxious sigh pulls my attention away from the viridian-eyed beauty again and I look over to Sally who hops off the stage and turns away from us quickly. "I'll be back," he murmurs with shaky breaths. "I'm going get a drink."

Larry snorts. "You lying bastard," he says, patting Sal's back. "You're just as gozzled as me right now."

Sally groans, walking away from Larry without a word. And Larry turns toward him, raising his arms. "What!?" he yells a bit louder as Sally disappears through the crowd. "I'm not wrong!"

"You kiss just like Victoria did," Ash suddenly says, pointing an accusing finger at me. She's gone from playful to serious in just a matter of minutes.

A laugh falls from my lips and my tense stance slackens a bit. "Oh, thank God." I twirl my drink again and shake my head. "I thought you just manifested that name from a kiss. I was freaked."

"Were you?" Ash narrows her eyes and takes a step toward me again. I find that deja vu feeling tickling the back of my brain. 

I swallow thickly, never answering as I look over to Larry with pleading eyes. He only shakes his head, flicking me off with a devious and beaming smile. No fucking help.

"So, was I close with the name then? Because why else would you be nervous." Ash pries, chewing on the inside of her cheek in thought. "Actually, what are you doing here? Why wouldn't you just tell us who you are? Are you someone that we don't like?"

My mouth gapes open like a fish, opening and closing while I fight for an answer. My mouth feels dry and my hands are clammy again. "N-No. You guys like me. You've never had any issues with me, well, Sally doesn't like me but other than that we've all gotten along very well. Incredibly well, in fact!" I hold my hands out in front of me just as Ash stops walking toward me. "You guys love me, well, I hope. Actually, I don't really know. Maybe you all hate my guts, I wouldn't be able to tell."

Ash looks confused, like she's trying to grasp onto what I just spewed at her. My answer didn't convince her, it just fucking confuzzled her.

"I can't believe it." I turn my head when Todd talks for the first time. He doesn't have that borderline angry look on his face anymore. In fact, his eyes are a bit wide and he isn't frowning. I'd say this is his excited face. "You're Vi."

I don't know what to say as my mouth falls open again. I just stare at Todd and that seems to confirm it for him, so I shut my mouth and swallow through the dryness on my tongue. My throat burns and it feels like my heart's dropped out of my ass. I expected everyone to be stuck for hours, not for fucking Todd to sniff me out in just five minutes.

Larry suddenly scrambles into a standing position, his expression the first one I've seen tonight that isn't smiling. His lips are parted and his eyebrows are bunched together like someone just told him Dolly Parton died.

I pull my eyes away from the two men and look up at Ash, noting her slackened expression. Then, suddenly, she's become the same person I see on videos and talk to over the phone. The same best friend that I joke and bicker with. 

In her soft, surprised, high-pitched voice, Ash asks, "Is that really you, Vi?"

There are tears on her waterline, but then there's hope in her eyes. Hope in the way she takes a stumbled step toward me with her hands clutched to her chest like she doesn't know what to do with them.

And I can't tell her I'm not Vi. She looks so torn up in the best way and it would tear me up too if I wasn't honest with her.

"Yea," I rasp out. "It's me, Ash."

Ash turns into a blur as I'm lifted from my feet with immense screams of joy filling my ears. Ash throws me around like a dog's chew toy and bellows so many indecipherable things that I'm taken aback for a moment, but overall relishing in the joy that seeps from her and into me.

"You told me you weren't fucking coming, Vi, what the fuck!? And it's been like ten years! Where the fuck? How-- What-- Where did you come from? How did you get here!?" Ash shrieks into my ear, a sob or two getting twisted into her words.

I chew on my lips, finally wrapping my arms around Ash's neck as she continues to throw me around like I weigh nothing. Hell, she has some upper body strength.

Tears start to sting my eyes as all of my senses are filled. I can smell Ash's coconut scented shampoo, I can taste her strawberry lipgloss mixed with my tears, I can hear her screams mixed with the music around us, I can feel each strand of soft hair and her heart beating wildly against my chest, and I can see Larry and Todd's excited and shocked expression every time Ash swings me toward them again.

"I know. But it doesn't matter because I made it here," I laugh through trembling lips. I sniff when the sound of my own voice hits my ears. Fuck, just hearing that I'm hardly holding it together makes me want to break.

"You're so fucking right. Oh my gosh," Ash cries, finally dropping me to my feet but never unwrapping her arms from my waist.

She squeezes me tightly, then abruptly pulls away, holding me at arms length with mascara bleeding down her red cheeks. "Holy fuck, Vi. You let me kiss you!?" She looks absolutely bamboozled, like she truly can't wrap her head around the fact that our lips touched.

"Uh," I spit out, still reeling from being twirled around like a bug stuck on a carousel. "Yea. We kissed. I told you my conditions. What, do you regret it now?" I narrow my eyes playfully.

Ash slaps a hand to her chest like she's appalled. "What? Hell no, I could never regret it! I just can't believe we fucking kissed!?"

"I can't believe you guys kissed and haven't fucking included me yet. Your turn is over, Ash!" Arms wrap around my middle and I find myself being throw around like a test dummy yet again. This time, the perpetrator is Larry. "I can't fucking believe you're here!" he bellows.

"This entire night is full of you guys being non-believers!" I yell once my feet touch the ground again. Larry spins me around to face him and I feel like I'm going to cry again just over the big smile of excitement on his face. "You guys better start believing because I'm here in the flesh."

Larry bends over to reach me, wrapping me up in a big, strong hug. And, oh yea, I take the opportunity to drag my hands up his muscular arms as I hug him back.

"Stop feeling me up, Vi. Your kiss with Ash was hot enough," Larry laughs into my hair, giving me a squeeze.

I can't help but laugh and quickly wrap my arms around his neck. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop myself. I never imagined you'd be so jacked."

"Ha, yea, I honestly didn't see it in my future either, but here we are," he murmurs before pulling away. He looks down at me, tears fucking brimming his eyes too. "Fuck, dude. I might cry. You're such an awesome chick," he says breathily, pretending to wipe tears from his cheeks.

I pinch my lips together and give him my best unimpressed look. "Come on, we're supposed to be strong. No more crying," I tell him.

"Maybe the tears will go away if I get a kiss too.." Larry rolls his eyes very obnoxiously. His gaze cuts to me then he immediately looks away again, being as playful as always.

I sigh, grabbing onto his cheeks. "Come here, jackass," I say, growing excited as I pull him close to me.

Larry murmurs out a "fuck yea" before I quickly press my lips to his. It's a little kiss, shorter than me and Ash's but I was just as eager to do it since I haven't seen him in so long.

When I pull away, Larry scrunches his face up and splutters, wiping at his mouth. "Dammit, Ash," he says, fake gagging. "Why'd you have to kiss Vi first with that stupid lipgloss? That shit is disgusting."

"Hey!" Ash scoffs, walking toward us. "Don't hate on my very expensive, very amazing lipgloss! And besides, Vi seemed to like it well enough."

I scoot my way out of their argument and tiptoe my way to Todd who greets me with a soft smile. I smile back at him and he opens his arms to me immediately. 

My insides jump around in excitement as I jump into Todd's hug, scrunching the fabric of his blazer in my hands. "It's so nice to see you, Todd," I murmur into his shoulder. He smells like cedar trees. 

"It's nice to see you, too, Vi. Sorry I figured you out so quickly," he laughs softly, giving me a squeeze before separating from our embrace. He puts his hands into his pockets then switches his weight to his other foot. 

"It's no issue," I say, waving him off. "I'm really happy actually. I wouldn't have been able to say it myself."

He scoffs lightly, patting my shoulder. "Clearly. Grow a backbone, huh?"

I can't help but giggle as I pat his elbow in return. Todd watches me with a soft look, like he's genuinely happy to see me and that thought feels me with even more joy. Everyone's happy to see me.

Well... almost everyone.

"Vi, what the fuck are we going to do about Sal?" Ash suddenly hisses worriedly, her hands clamping onto my shoulders as she shoves her face next to mine from behind. "He's going to be so pissed!"

"It's alright," I breathe, squeezing my eyes shut as I remember that I still have some true bullshit to handle. "I'm cool," I settle on then turn my head, looking Ash in her pretty green eyes. "I've got this."

________________

A/N::::::: holy shit HI WE'RE DOING CRAZY STUFF

this was supposed to be two chapters. Yep. Somehow, these 11,347 words got fused into one even though they were meant to be separate. I couldn't leave you guys hanging again though, so here we are &lt;3

thank you so much for the continued support. I love you all so much! have a wonderful day/evening/night. tons of kisses!! <333

P.S. I AM EXHAUSTED I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CHAPTER FOR TWO FUCKING WEEKS

[leavemetoplaythesims]

shading and lighting tutorial!

this was requested by an anon. a little before we start! i use procreate on my ipad pro with an apple pencil. unfortunately procreate is the only program i know but i imagine similar features exist in other programs as well. i feel like i need to say that i am in no way an expert on shading and i know it's not always accurate. also if you end up using this tutorial in some of your edits please feel free to tag me, i would love to see it! if i've missed something or if i explained something badly don't be afraid to ask me about it. okay long post ahead!

so i'm going to just make a little simple edit of my girl. this is a screenshot taken from cas that has the sunscreen filter on it from the built in windows photo editor on 20% intensity.

now i've added my normal little touch ups that i usually do, eyelashes, catch lights and highlights as well as touching up her scars. everything is painted with the soft airbrush except for some highlights that are painted with the 2B compressed charcoal brush. before adding highlights however you should figure out where you want the light to come from. i've drawn a little ugly sun for you to see where i've placed my light.

now i use the soft airbrush and paint with black where the shadows would be. if i would have fixed up the hair (which i didn't for this one because it's my least favorite part and i didn't have the energy) i would have made sure to make the shadow layer behind the hair ones since i think it looks better if the hair isn't shaded the way the face is. then i blend all of the black out with the smudge tool with the soft airbrush so it looks a little softer.

then change the layer to soft light and change the opacity to 60% and voilà! you have soft shadows! if some shadows still look to harsh for your liking just go back in with the smudge tool a little more.

now do a layer on top of everything and kind of circle the part you want lit up the most with black again, smudge it and set the layer to soft light at 60% opacity.

this step is not a must, i don't do it very often anymore but if you want some extra color or light you can do this. choose a color you want your light source to be. i tend to feel like intense colors look the best. paint it where you want the light to come from, then use the gaussian blur tool until your satisfied.

now you can leave it in the normal layer setting or play around a bit with different ones until you find something that you feel fits. for this one i decided on using the difference layer setting on 70% opacity.

a step i always almost forget is shading the eyes! to do that you just repeat the normal shadow process. paint it black, smudge and put the layer to soft light on 60% opacity. it adds so much, i highly recommend this step! now you're done with the first part. now save it as an image and start a new canvas with that image.

if you want to use gaussian, motion or perspective blur now would be the time. i didn't for this one but i almost always do. this next step is also totally optional. we are going to use chromatic aberration in the displace setting on 90% opacity and slightly pull it to the side. then use the normal chromatic aberration between 5-10%. it just adds a lot of fun and weird color that i just love and makes the edit look so much more alive. then use sharpen, i usually do 10-15%. and after that use bloom. my edits are almost always dark so i use a lot of it. i think i did 35% for this one to give it a little glow. then use noise. my go to is 3% on max octaves. then go into hue, saturation, brightness and change the saturation to 55% (you can do however much you want but these are my go to's) and brightness to 49%.

now go into curves and play around. i always make the gamma brighter but the colors i play around with so much.

completely optional again but i've recently started to add a gradient map, especially instant or noir. for this one i used noir on 20%. and that's it, we are done!

before/after.

hopefully this is understandable and helpful. have fun!!

[quinloki]

I leave the actual character(s) to you but may I request these flavors please:

cotton candy: post the last picture of your F/O that you saved!

pistachio: when was the last time that you or your F/O cried during a movie?

coconut mango: what mementos do you and your F/O treasure?

And one I'm making up because seriously, this flavor should be on the list:

dill pickle: what's the pettiest thing your F/O has ever done to you (maybe because of a fight) or to someone else?

Alright, I'll put this under a cut, cause I'm going to be be concise, but greedy, so it's gonna get long.

Cotton Candy: Since all the best art is stuff I haven't drawn and I don't want to link a dozen images, we'll do a little theater of the mind for this.

Marco - we're in yukata at a festival, sugar candy and candied pineapple on sticks, with Marco leaned down behind me so both our faces are in the frame for the passerby that offered to take a picture when we were struggling to do a selfie <3

Kid - covered in oil soot both of us, and there's a heart smeared on Kid's cheek while I'm near to tears with laughter. Heat or Wire probably took the picture and you can tell Kid is already plotting some manner of revenge.

Sabo - It's a newspaper photo, and we're making rude gestures at the camera person while laughing. Whether canon or AU I just feel like there'd be some level of infamy with Sabo's public image.

Pistachio: Last time you or your F/O cried during a movie?

I am a water fountain, let's just assume if something is too cute I'm bawling incomprehensibly. (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Marco - Family loss in movies hits Marco pretty hard. He can usually keep it in, but I feel like something like Saving Private Ryan would have him, Thatch and Izou in tears despite their efforts.

Kid - He'll leave the room so no one sees him getting misty eyed, but he's almost in the same category as me, he's just not willing to admit to it. Frustration, anger and sadness will get him to tear up, and the first two he'll let people see, but that third one is kind of a unicorn.

Sabo - He doesn't. Love him dearly, but he's far too practiced at compartmentalization. He'll hand over a box of tissues without a word, pet my hair when a scene is ramping up and just let me bawl, but he doesn't really get sucked into movies enough to get effected that way. (It's also why he drives after action movies, cause me and Ace get too wound up over them XD )

coconut mango: what mementos do you and your F/O treasure?

Marco - I've dove into it before, but Marco and his damned bar coasters. They grow on you, they do. I have a few small items from other people I cherish, but those coasters are pretty much ours at this point, and not just his.

Kid - The perk of Kid as your F/O are all the little knick knacks, but a metal and wood polished set of arm bands, are my favorite gift from him. Kid's most cherished item is... weird, but - okay, so look, I wanted to learn how to fight, I get the forms and functions, right? But I'm not... feisty enough. >.> Anyway, sparring with the crew saw improvements, and one time Kid and I were going at it and I managed to really ring his bell. He reacted instinctively and now he has my tooth on a chain.

Sabo - I... may have to come back to this. Things with Sabo are still new, and I haven't given it enough thought it seems.

And one I'm making up because seriously, this flavor should be on the list:

dill pickle: what's the pettiest thing your F/O has ever done to you (maybe because of a fight) or to someone else?

Marco - I've never tested Marco enough to know this, and I don't WANT to test Marco enough to know this. Knowing one's limits are important and there's some lines you just kind of instinctively know better >.>

Kid - Stole all my underclothes. T-T Look, I'm just not good at buying necessities for myself, and I will wear clothes to threads. Even the stuff I shouldn't like bras and such. And bad bras can leave marks and bruises and little miss Tulip head got all pissy about it. Bad underclothes are better than no under clothes, so a shopping we had gone.

Sabo - Made me wear mittens for a day so he could get doors and chairs and such for me. Was enough of a good sport to take them off when I had to go to the bathroom, was enough of a bastard to leave them on when it was time for bed.

[eusuntgratie]

I’m going to admit to being a complete dumbasssssss……. Ok, here goes, for the LONGEST time, I thought your pic, the big one on your page, the big drawing (I don’t know what that one’s called, rem, I’m a dumbass,) was Nolan Patrick!!!!! And THEN,,,,,thennnnnnnn, I saw a post you you put up awhile back that it’s Bucky? Is that who it is? I don’t watch marvel stuff. Is Bucky Marvel? Superheroes stuff at the very least {{hand waves}} 🧐 all I know is that I found out it wasn’t Nolpat and had a small breakdown 😹 okkkkk. That’s it. That’s the comment. Yes, I’m embarrassed for me too. {{{{alsoooooo, I still pretend it’s Nolpat never mind Nolpat’s hair isn’t that dark, etc 💀}}}}

Regardless, I love YOU and your TKNP writing!! Yes, I know it’s 2024 and TKNP no longer “lives” but they DO. In my mind! Delusional dumbass, rem 🥴 but alsoooooo Nolpat visited the PEG for TK in the year of of 2024 sooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💕💕💕

ajsdf;lkasdlfkjasf hey nonnie!

you are not a dumbass - we just all see our blorbos everywhere, don't we!

my header IS bucky barnes (not nolpat), lovingly drawn by the incredible @luckycl0ve (his patreon is hereeeeee!).

bucky is from marvel, yes! he's my og blorbo and half of my first ship (stucky) that i was really feral for (and the first ship i wrote for, though i haven't written them much). i fell for him in the captain america movies, particularly captain america: the winter soldier.

thank you so much! i still love tknp and i'm not done writing them i don't think. i've got two wips for them i hope to finish once i get through some other projects.

and yes, the dash was ALIVE after that tweet. the things i would do for a photo from that locker room!

If, like me, you are still spinning about it, definitely go check out Play Me That Song One More Time that the lovely @puckingfabulous just dropped!!

my askbox is always open - come say hi or ask me about my wips <3

[sayakxmi]

[Magi reread] Night 2: His name is Alibaba.

It's my boy, it's my boy. <3

Funnily enough, when I first watched Magi I was pretty neutral about Alibaba, but upon the first rewatch/reread (several years later) he became one of my all time favorite character. My fav used to be Judar, but he's nowhere near the top anymore, lmao. Like, not even close.

Damn, this really makes me wanna, as we say it in Poland, throw everything and go to Bieszczady.

I love him. Baby boy, baby. Precious. Thousand flower crowns for you, and a free resurrection pass for somebody close you love, we know who they are.

10 years later the guy is married to the Empress (fuck canon, I do what I want), but ok, Budel.

(insert a photo of a fly doing the thing, you know the thing)

Once upon a time I've mentioned that Alibaba's pretty smart, but I was too lazy to write that post, sorry. But, anyway, that's one of the things. He's actually pretty good at reading people. Nothing crazy, but he knows his shit enough to tell that in normal circumstances Budel would've been the best kind of customers for him. Kiss his ass a bit, and you're home. Alibaba isn't malicious, but he can be a bit manipulative in moments like this.

I'm back on my bullshit, that is overanalyzing every page Alibaba is in, but fr, I was talking about it with Yudja ages ago, how, in general, this chapter does such an amazing job at establishing Alibaba as a character. But this moment here, it tells you So Much. Alibaba has a tremendous sense of responsibility, reaching the point of taking the responsibility for things that aren't his fault at all, in this case Aladdin being extremely disrespectful to Budel (like, Budel's an awful person, but Aladdin was still a dick). And Aladdin is a kid. Not Alibaba's kid, but a kid nonetheless, and Alibaba might be a bit rough with him, but he draws the line at actually letting him be hit. That's actually a small thing I'm a bit annoyed at anime for changing (I mean, I'm annoyed at many anime changes) - in the episode Alibaba basically throws Aladdin onto the ground with himself & while he's still the one to take the punishment, Aladdin is right next to him, whereas in the manga he does make him bow, but then pushes him away, and, again, is a bit rough later on, but nothing too hard.

Also, one more thing regarding that scene:

Like mother, like son.

No, you won't. You're a softie.

No, you won't. But at least you're gonna have some sick connections.

Aladdin, pay attention when your soon-to-be-bff is monologuing.

HE SAID THE THING!

Look at him. He's so happy to see them be happy.

Fuck you, too, Budel.

Not adding photos, cuz I don't want to hit the limit, again. But the desert hiacynth thing.

Aladdin being done with Budel's bs.

Angy.

Honestly, I've always appreciated that Alibaba doesn't throw himself into the danger right away. He's scared. He wants somebody else to do this. It's a big part of his character, both the lack of confidence in his own skills, and just simply being afraid of the danger. But even so

He still can't stand the idea of a life being disrespected like that. If nobody eles will, then he'll have to be the one to.

(Another thing I didn't like about the anime is that it added some shots of Balbadd flashbacks, which sure added to the mystery of Alibaba's past, but also it ended up weakening this scene imo. In the anime it comes off as a result of guilt, rather than Alibaba's genuine respect for life, like it does in the manga.)

Aladdin supporting his bestie with a flute solo.

Also, back to Alibaba being pretty smart, I mean, he recognizes the plant & remembers how to deal with it, like, bro, I'm after biology-related studeis, and I can recognize like four plants. At the very least, Alibaba's got pretty good memory.

The anime deprived us of loose hair Aladdin, I'm making up for it here. But also, gdi, these two. Ugh. I love them. I wish friendship was real.

Anyway, I was thinking about Leila and Alibaba being, potentially, drawn similarly to draw the parallels regarding the whole Lying thing, you know? Since that's something they both do that Aladdin notes immediately.

Also, ok, I gush about Alibaba a lot, and ya fucking bet I will keep on doing that, but, tbh, props to Aladdin for quick thinking, too. When he noticed that Ugo wasn't coming out (iirc in the anime it wasn't, like, mentioned? He just straigh up went with his turban? but I'm not sure), he was like, screw it, and used his turban, while also using the things Alibaba's told him about these flowers and wine. In these first few chapters it's pretty easy to overlook it, but Aladdin is really smart, too, and learns quickly.

These guys are understandably pissed at Budel, but I also can't help but think that they're like "we just think that blond kid is neat", too. It's the Alibaba effect no one is fully immune to.

Alibaba. Alibaba, no. Just take the help when people are offering it to you, don't be a dumbass. You'll get into trouble. Also, why are you so pretty. Just look at my boy :(