#i think this comic ends on a bad note for a reason. i don’t think the parts that are fun for them are meant to last

[theflannelwizard]

It couldn’t. But it’s nice to dream.

[katsukistofu]

my caffeine mix-up! pt. ii

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. you accidentally pick up the number two hero’s coffee so picks you up instead. | part i

note: fukuoka is the canon location of hawks hero agency

You stare at the text for what embarrassingly feels like at least the tenth time this hour.

pick you up at 8 ;)

Was sent mere moments ago from the contact Hawks, that had several hearts next to his name that you don’t remember him putting, saved in your phone after he dropped you off at work this morning.

Nearly giving your coworkers who just so happened to be looking out the windows at the time synchronized heart attacks in their cubicles, which would’ve been very hard to explain to your boss.

Who, thank All Might, was not here today.

But the millisecond you walked out of the elevator onto your floor, their nosy natures quickly won over their states of disbelief.

Desperate for the juicy details, nothing could stop them from swarming you like a group of hungry piranhas, and you’re flooded with a sea of questions you’re simply at a loss for how to answer.

“How did you meet him?” “So when’s the wedding?” “Were you rescued in a villain attack that wasn’t on the news yet?” “Oh my god, did you two—?”

“Guys!” You cut them off with a frantic wave of your hands, you did not need to hear the end of that sentence. “We just happened to meet. I, uh.”

Your coworkers look at you with expectant eyes, eagerly waiting to hear your no doubt heart-racing meet-cute story with the hero so popular, that when the paparazzi got a picture of him sipping kombucha tea, the drink went out of stock in stores nationwide faster than you could even say its name.

“I accidentally took his coffee order.”

You cringe a bit as you finish, and you’re met with the most comically shocked faces you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“You WHAT!?”

“Damn I literally just tweeted ‘my coworker stole Hawks’s coffee’ and it already has a hundred reposts.”

“Oh honey, you’re lucky our boss is out sick today. He’d fire you for that.”

“Yeah, Hawks is his all-time favorite on the charts since All Might.”

You groan. “I know! He was so nice about it too, I still feel bad.”

“You should be.”

All your coworkers simultaneously glare at your company’s front desk receptionist that somehow snuck up to your floor, who for some reason takes that as a signal to continue.

“I could never be illiterate enough to take his order if I was in that coffee shop.”

“No one cares, Janet,” everyone says in deadpanned unison.

Janet huffs and turns to leave, but not before pointedly throwing another withering look at you.

She never did like you ever since you politely corrected her grammar in that passive aggressive email she sent when you were a new hire.

Not illiterate your ass.

Throughout the day, you answer more emails, calls, and print papers in a daze.

When you go to forward an email, all you can think about is how his strong arms felt on your waist. When you go retrieve ink to refill the printer, all you can think about is his gentle yet firm grip that he had on your thighs.

This could not be healthy.

But what if it was? You’ve never been touched so intimately, so softly before, like you were something precious, even in your fleeting experiences with relationships.

No one’s made you feel this safe like he does from just being in their presence.

But you blame that on him being a hero. He was probably trained on how to calm civilians down, especially during rescues.

You don’t really think that applied to people who stole his coffee, but maybe that was just you trying to feel special.

With a shake of your head, you straighten yourself in your chair. You had to get it together.

No more thoughts of Hawks on company time until it’s time to clock out!

But it seems like the winged flirt had other plans.

hawks ♡♡♡ [12:00]

hey

[sent an image]

hawks ♡♡♡ [12:01]

saw a pretty flower on

someone’s roof and it

reminded me of you :)

You freeze when you see the notification pop up, mid-bite through the food that you picked up from your favorite aesthetically pleasing cafe for lunch.

With a mouthful of sandwich, you click on the message to text back, when suddenly the realization hits you.

You had no idea what to wear for the date.

Oh my god, what were you even supposed to wear? Was there some kind of etiquette for this?

I mean, it’s not like he’s taking you to the Hero Gala. It’s just a higher end homey sushi and ramen place, but still.

Pinterest probably didn’t have “cute date outfit ideas for going out with the freaking number two hero” in their search results.

In your mind, you nervously run through different casual but still elegant clothes to wear. Maybe that nice blouse you had been saving, the one with the ruffles on the sleeves? You bite the inside of your cheek. No, maybe your classy sleeveless turtleneck midi dress instead?

Ugh, but you’ve already worn it out too many times last month. Not to mention the current ninety degree weather would cook you alive in that.

You pray that the paparazzi wouldn’t dare to stalk you on your date, but imagine if they did and took a picture of you two?

Caption: Hawks takes girl that never wears anything else out on date.

Even worse, caption: Hawks seen taking girl that can’t dress if her life depended on it out on date.

Nope, not on your watch.

The further you brainstormed, the more each piece of your wardrobe seemed less and less fitting to wear for such an occasion.

An idea pops into your head.

What was Hawks’s favorite color? You could base an outfit off of that instead.

Thinking about it, it was probably red. Hell, if you had pretty crimson wings like him you’d forget every other color in the rainbow.

Should you text him and ask?

After a little mental wrestling yourself, you muster up all the courage you could possibly have on a Monday afternoon.

[12:20]

you

that’s so cute :((((

thank you <3

you

also random but what’s

your favorite color?

hawks ♡♡♡

ooh we playing twenty questions? ;)

you

lol i guess we are ;)

hawks ♡♡♡

hmmm ok then

hawks ♡♡♡

my favorite colors

probablyyy red

you

i knew it

hawks ♡♡♡

oh?

hawks ♡♡♡

been thinking about me

have you, pretty girl?

you

……..maybe

hawks ♡♡♡

you’re so cute when

you get all shy

Your cheeks warm at that, and you physically have to put down your phone for a moment to cool off.

[12:34]

hawks ♡♡♡

my turn

hawks ♡♡♡

whatcha having for lunch?

you

[sent an image]

sandwich :)

hawks ♡♡♡

ooh that looks yummy

you

it is!!!!

you

it’s from the cafe across

the one where i nabbed

your coffee lol

hawks ♡♡♡

ah when fate brought

us together by my overly

sweet latte

hawks ♡♡♡

i’ll make sure to stop by

it after patrol tomorrow :)

you

yay!!! lmk what you think

i want a full review

hawks ♡♡♡

yes ma’am (︶▽︶)7

you

what are you having for lunch?

hawks ♡♡♡

[sent an image]

just chicken lol

Of course he was. It did look good. The fried edges were perfectly crispy, and it was a nice golden brown color and—

hawks ♡♡♡

but i wish it was you instead ;)

you

!!!!!?1!?)$1&1$@-

hawks ♡♡♡

aw, you embarassed right now?

you

YESOHMYHOF???

you

YOU CANR JUST

SAY THAT

hawks ♡♡♡

whyyy nottt

hawks ♡♡♡

it’s true though! :(

you

oh my god i’m going to die

you

and this sandwich is

going to be my last meal

hawks ♡♡♡

noo don’t die

you

i will

hawks ♡♡♡

id miss you :(

you

then know that it

was all YOUR fault.

hawks ♡♡♡

pffft you're so cute

hawks ♡♡♡

wish i could see your

flustered face right now

you

STOP

you

i think i'm going to

have to block you

you

this isn’t good for my heart

hawks ♡♡♡

D:

hawks ♡♡♡

noooooooo!!!!!!

come backkkk!!

You had to bite back a fond giggle, feeling warm all over. How was it fair for him to be this cute over text and in person?

hawks ♡♡♡

okok but before you block me

which i don’t think you will

hawks ♡♡♡

send me your address so

i know where to pick up the

most beautiful girl alive <3

you

oh u smooth ass mf

hawks ♡♡♡

for you? always

you

UGHHH

fine here it is

you

123-4567 fukuoka, tenjin,

chuo ward, 8-91

hawks ♡♡♡

perfect

see you soon birdie ;)

After an eventful day at work, you’re turned around, glancing at your back in the mirror.

Even though the scarlet dress that falls just below your knees hugs your figure in all the right places, you still feel a little self-conscious in it.

You honestly haven’t touched it since you bought it at the mall with a friend, who insisted that red was your color even when you had wrinkled your nose.

But as you admire the smooth, soft fabric of it now, you can’t help but be reminded of a certain someone’s beautiful wings.

You think you were really starting to warm up to the color.

A spritz of your favorite perfume and slight touch up of your makeup later, you hear a knock on the door to your balcony.

That must be him!

You excitedly unlock the sliding glass, and you’re finally greeted with the sight of Hawks’s signature grin that you missed all day.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi,” you say back, a bit breathlessly.

As if you were the one who flew all across the city just to see him.

He takes the moment to look you up and down, not in a hungry, lustful way like you’re used to when you’re around other men, even when you’re not exposing much skin.

Hawks admires you.

Like you’re a statue of a goddess, made of the most pristine marble. Like you’re a beautiful cherry blossom tree at peak bloom, with the wind serenading your soft pink petals.

Like you’re something so divinely beautiful and enchanting, you deserve to be revered.

“Wow.” Hawks opens his mouth, but no other sound comes out. The bouquet he’s hiding behind his back for you goes limp in his hand.

For a man who never runs out of words to say, he’s been rendered speechless.

There’s a tingle of anxiety at your neck and you’re suddenly a little nervous. “How—How do I look?”

Hawks takes a deep breath, and finally speaks.

“You look absolutely, astoundingly gorgeous.”

Hawks’s lips curve upwards softly when you visibly melt, his touch sweeter than the caramel of his eyes as a hand tips your chin up to meet his warm gaze that the summer heat had nothing on. 

“And that’s the least interesting about you.”

─────────

“This is really good.”

Is what you ultimately decide when you’re on the fourth piece of the unagi roll you ordered.

Hawks grins, you looked cute with your cheeks puffed up like that. “Isn’t it? I knew you’d like it.”

You nod while covering your mouth, chewing slowly to savor the delectable taste of the sushi. “I’m literally going to gatekeep this place so hard.”

“Good.” He reaches across the table for your hand with an amused laugh. “It can just be our little spot, then.”

You softly smile back at him.

“Our little spot.”

At that moment, the waiter comes over with Hawks’s shoyu ramen. “Enjoy!”

“Thanks!” Hawks beams at him, then turns his attention to the bowl in front of him.

Then a slight frown appears on his face.

You tilt your head. “What’s wrong?”

His worried eyes meet yours.

“You sure just sushi is enough? You can always order something else, it’s on me.”

“Oh no it’s okay!” You wave a hand. “I’m not really that hungry—“

“I don’t believe you.” A hint of a teasing smile plays on his lips. “Could hear your tummy growling a bit earlier.”

“You heard that?” You whine. How embarrassing.

“All the more reason to share my ramen with me.”

Your eyes widen. “You want me to?”

“I do.” Hawks stubbornly says, picking up his chopsticks to grab noodles with them. He holds them up to your lips, a growing smirk on his handsome face.

“Say ahhh.”

Throwing a quick glance around the restaurant, your cheeks flame. “Hawks!”

“What?” He’s still wearing that casual, shit-eating grin. “It’s just us and a few other people here, c’mon.”

You huff. “I can feed myself!”

“I know you can, birdie.” Hawks holds your gaze with piercing but warm eyes. “But I want to do it.”

You fiddle with your own chopsticks, looking at anything but his eyes.

“Please? Let me take care of you.”

Finally, you cave at his pleading expression.

“Okay.”

He feeds you, and you’re not still not sure why he’s so happy to do so, but you let him.

The owner of the sushi and ramen place laughs as he looks over at the booth you two had occupied a few hours before closing.

As always, there’s a generously heavy tip left on the table and this time a new, small note.

thank you, boss :> we’ll be back!! - h

─────────

It’s summer, again.

Keigo flies you back home in his arms after his patrol and your nine to five, and as you touch down on your balcony, the sky is starting to turn a brilliant gradient of orange, pink and purple as the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

His eyes are lidded as he pulls you closer to him by the waist on the couch.

“You like when I’m this close to you?”

In the privacy of your apartment with the only sound being the breeze from your air conditioning and the faint chirping of crickets outside, it’s like the both of you are in your own little world.

“Yeah.” You sound muffled while hiding your burning face in his chest. “You still make me nervous.”

“I make you nervous?” His low voice is lilting as he tilts his head, and pulls you even closer to him with a firm hand now on the small of your back.

Keigo smirks, drinking up the sound of your little gasp. “I’m gonna take that as a yes, little dove.”

You blink dreamily, disorientated by his warmth seeping through his sleeveless turtleneck and the feeling of his firm chest against yours. He was so cozy. “Dove?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause they symbolize peace, and you’re my safe place.” Keigo’s eyes soften at the way you snuggle into him in response. He was yours too, your comfort person. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“Mmm.” You’re resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. “Tell me again.”

“As many times as you want.” He leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re perfect.”

You let out a laugh, his breath was tickling your ear. “Kei, why’s your heart beating so fast when you say that?”

“Mm.” He offers you a sly smile, hand tracing circles on the small of your back as you lay on top of him.

“Guess you just do something to me when we’re together, birdie.”

Your eyes start to feel heavy, and you hug him even tighter at that.

“I’m so glad I stole your shitty excuse of a coffee that day.”

And it’s when he laughs from deep within his chest that you know he is too.

— Courtship feeding is believed to function as ceremonial pair bonding. The male bird usually feeds their female mate, and the resulting nutritional boost contributes to more and healthier offspring.

[ariseur]

i just had a silly idea – y'know how there's those videos of big dogs being afraid of cats for some reason? i was thinking of that but with megumi's demon dogs and his s/o's cat who can see them but is comically mean to them to the point that his dogs are intimidated lmfao

“what’s up with them?” your head perks up from the book you’re perched on the couch reading, megumi’s voice interrupting the woven words on paper and instead allowing you to focus on him.

his bedhead’s almost comical. you stifle a smile once he gestures to your cat on the floor, the usual spiked ends of his hair now fall flat as they bounced with the bop of his head. your eyes follow his motion. you tilt your head as you watch the small, furry ball hiss at megumi’s divine dogs.

her tail grows stiff as one of the shikigami approach her, head tilted low as their nose nudges her a bit. your eyes follow the red pattern against his white fur, moving back in a flash as your cat’s paw swiped at his nose.

megumi hums as he makes his way into the living. the scent of linen and tea tree shampoo wafting by as he crouched down next to his dogs, eyeing the feline suspiciously. “you guys are really scared of that little thing?” he mutters, rubbing behind the raven colored dog’s ear.

“i don’t blame them, she doesn’t even like me sometimes,” you chuckle, marking the page and closing the back with a satisfying thud. “she only likes you,” you sigh. you swear you can see megumi smile with the way his shoulders shake with an amused scoff.

the cat saunters back, waving her tail in the air as she walks back and forth — beady, amber colored eyes trained on the dogs. “such sass,” your boyfriend mutters, hand still petting the soft triangular pattern imprinted on the black dog’s forehead.

“as if you’re not sassy either.”

“shut up,” he huffs.

you snicker. you hoist yourself up off of the couch, crawling over to where your cat is while you try your best to not scare her too bad while you’re close. you scoop her up in your arms, laughing at the way her head is still fixated in front of her; the three animals having their own standoff.

she lets out a small sound under her breath as the dog tries to wriggle past the barrier megumi’s created with his arm, shifting it up and down to try and block his view of your sweet pet ( .. even if she wasn’t exactly so sweet, right now ).

“aren’t your dogs trained to attack curses? how’re they scared of a tiny cat?” you cooed at her, lifting her tiny body into a cradling hold while megumi pursed his lips at you.

“fire lies behind those eyes,” he mutters before you throw a glare at him.

you look back down at her. “she’s just a baby, let her live.”

“i’m sure it’s lived another eight lives and reigned its own terror in each of them.”

“megumi.”

𐙚 IGJHHGJGG i hate this.. side note but i’m working so hard on this one fic rn ( yes it’s the angst fic that i’ve been mentioning for the past week ) but i’ve been neglecting my followers w my posts so i’ve decided to post a really short drabble for now :(

𐙚 comment to be added to my taglist ; @chxlexauriana @seternic @kalulakunundrum @silly-norman @sad-darksoul @kasumitenbaz ( sorry bae ik how much you like megumi but trust after i pop this one fic out i’ll be back to normal w the gumi posts 😞😞 )

𐙚 requests are open — august first, 2024 ( 11:01pm )

[mayearies]

BAD HABIT miles g. morales x fem!reader

SUMMARY. miles can’t communicate. he has trouble recognizing his emotions, rio knows this. uncle aaron knows this. you don’t know this. you don’t really know anything is wrong, but you always wish him the best. but you can only wish upon the same star so many times until something changes. CONTENTS. miles being head-over-heels, mentioned break up, rio worrying for her son, uncle aaron being against the whole relationship thing, mentioned meeting his parents AUTHORS NOTE. haii i’m not back but ill feed you once every few months also format ib: luvjunie

rio .

mother knows best. we all know this. a mother knows when she sits on the couch and her 15-year-old sits next to her and starts going on about his girlfriend, how he’s everything she’s ever wanted that he’s in love.

but, a mother also knows her son. “miles, let me ask you something.” she sighed, “how much does she know about you? you tell me all these things about her, does she know the same?”

he paused, taking a soft breath, “i mean, no. but she doesn’t seem like she wants to know all that much.”

her brow creased, “if she’s dating you obviously she wants to know more about you. ¿de qué hablas?”

“yeah, i know, but she doesn’t really ask me.” his brows raised then creased a little.

confusion and concern.

“i’ll tell you one thing, girls tend to not say a lot of stuff that’s on their minds,” she cleared her throat, “they want you to tell them first. it takes a while for them to be comfortable with you.”

miles sighed and bit his cheek. now he was doubting you weren’t comfortable with him. you had only been dating a month.

“i just… want you opening up more. your uncle does too.” her voice turned softer. now miles felt a bit bad because he thought she was being unreasonable with the whole uncomfortable thing.

plus, uncle aaron knows he can’t open up like that to her. he barely has time for his hobbies because of this whole… prowler thing. so what the hell can he talk about? not to mention he can’t even talk to his mother about this because she doesn’t know that either.

“talk to her about comics-con!” miles groaned when she said that. “ma. no.”

rio pouted, “you gotta open up at some point, miles. i mean it.” she noticed one of his braids was slightly undone and braided it for him, “you’re like a shell now. i worry about you.”

miles kept quiet, after a bit he leaned on her shoulder and kept his eyes straight. “i know.”

they didn’t say anything else. rio knew miles knew already. he mumbled a ‘sorry’ and they left it at that with a kiss to his head. there wasn’t a point in talking anymore.

aaron .

“i’m tellin’ you, this isn’t gon’ work out well for you, man.” he warned, “someone’s gon’ end up getting hurt. both you, and her.”

“not like you liked her that much anyway.” miles muttered under his breath, sitting on the couch ans watching the news. just the same thing every week. sinister six this, sinister six that… god damn.

“i never said that, i just don’t want you making a mistake,” he huffed.

aaron was more rough around the edges than his mother, that’s for sure. he didn’t hate him but he was so serious sometimes for no reason. takes part in why he doesn’t talk about this stuff with him. not like he has a father figure to turn to anyway.

“how do you know i’ll make a mistake?” miles felt a bit more defensive now.

“because that’s how it goes—you fall in love, think everything is great, something goes wrong, everything crashes, you move on. it’s a cycle.” he paused before saying this next sentence. “how do you think your ma’s marriage went? think about it.”

miles softed a bit, but he was still a bit irritated. “you didn’t have to go that far.”

he knew that. but it was a perfect example of the worst thing that could have happened. miles sighed, sinking into the couch and turning off the tv. there was tension, and it filled the silence.

“you’re saying i shouldn’t be in love? it’s that bad to like someone?” he kept his eyes on the ceiling.

aaron sighed, finding a better approach to it. “be in love all you want. tell her all about you. your hobbies, what you like. you know how closed off you are, man.” he paused, “just… don’t tell her too much. don’t make a stupid mistake.”

“…alright.”

present day .

miles walked through the apartment door, looking the same as normal. but rio sensed something was off. “qué pasó?”

“nothing. hi, ma.” he kissed her forehead before walking off down the hallway. he didn’t really act like this. his mom could always tell the difference.

“how are you and your little girlfriend doing?” he chucked lightly, trying to make light.

“oh, uh… we broke up.” there was a long silence, “like, today.”

rio was not entirely surprised, but she couldn’t help but ask why. miles shrugged, not facing her.

“just because.”

@ MAYEARIES ‘24

[phyrestartr]

My World Ends With You (1/2) | Miguel O'hara x M!Reader

Miguel x Husband!Reader W/C: 4.7k

#SFW, hurt/comfort, infidelity, toxic relationships, brief verbal abuse, mending relationships, difficult/complex feelings and emotions, things work out in the end, nobody dies, the zombies aren't that important, old men just really going through it, ZOMBIES BABEY

Note: Tis a continuation of Till Death Do Us Part . Would rec reading that first lest you get mad confused

--

“Did Miguel cheat on you?” 

The question caught you off guard. As far as you knew, only a handful of people got the gist of what happened, and even fewer knew the exact reason why everything systematically fell apart. 

“How'd you–who told you?” You asked Gwen, surprise and trepidation creasing your brow. 

The young lady shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest tighter as she leaned toward the fire you'd made–the one you made out of pure restlessness from staying inside for too long. You decided to pretend you were out in the great outdoors like the old days, and set up a ring of rocks and chairs on the roof to escape the fluorescent lights and white walls. Evidently, Gwen needed a break from it all, too.

“Gabi.” She fiddled with her toque and cleared her throat. “She, uh--y'know. She mentioned it.” 

“Huh.” Your gaze wandered away from Gwen, and back to the fire. “I didn't think she'd remember.” 

“How old was she? When it happened, I mean.” 

“Must've been 11. We split when she was 13, I'm pretty sure.” You sighed and leaned back in your shitty old soccer mom chair. “Guess we were bad at hiding it.”

“Pretty hard to hide that kinda thing from your kid,” Gwen mumbled, dwelling on something ancient and sore in the depths of her memories. “They're more perceptive than you think.” 

You nodded. The stars caught your attention and you stared up, gazing upon the winking lights and shooting comets flying by. Most of those celestial bodies were there when everything happened. Did they remember, too? Were they haunted, too?

“Yeah. My parents thought I didn't know nothin’ either. They didn't know how wrong that was,” you agreed. 

“So he did cheat on you?” Gwen asked. You nodded. She scoffed. “But--why? He always acts so lovey-dovey and gross around you. Why would he–?”

“Good people do bad things,” you said, and continued before she could cut in, “‘n bad people do good things, sometimes.” 

“So which camp is he in?” She asked.

“Pretty sure he's mostly good.” 

“Pretty sure?” 

You chuckled. “I've met ‘bad guys,’ believe me.” You took a breath and nudged some logs around in the fire with a stick. “Miguel ain't like them. He's full of himself, arrogant, stubborn ‘n all that, but he's helped people. He's helping people, even if he's got a crap attitude about it.” 

“Right,” Gwen breathed. Her voice carried something heavy with it. Something uncertain and unwavering, like the teeter of winter into spring, or thunder that wondered if it might rain. Her restless energy mirrored the fire as it roiled and spat brilliant sprays of embers into the cold, night sky; only, the fire would eventually die down, calm itself into blackened coals. Gwen’s torch would not fade as such. 

“You think he’s a bad guy?” You asked. 

“Never really thought he was a good guy.” She rubbed the back of her neck before sighing. “But. Yeah.  Never thought he was a bad guy, either. Kinda feels like a vigilante, or something. But less cool.”

You smiled when you peered over at her. “Maybe like an antihero?” 

“Way less cool than that, but yeah. Sure. An antihero,” she huffed. “But you’re a blue-blood. I don’t think those types are supposed to get along.” 

That made you laugh. “I think they get along pretty well. They do in the comics, even if they don’t see eye-to-eye on everything.” 

Gwen rolled her eyes. “You mean most things?”

You nodded. “Yeah, most things.” You tucked your hands into your pockets and gazed up again, this time losing your thoughts to the endless void of grey sweeping in and devouring all light in the sky. “You don't need to worry about me, Gwen. There’re more–”

“More important things to worry about?” She finished, not sounding too impressed. “Feels like you're using the end of the world as an excuse.” 

You frowned, and wiped the dew of melted snowflakes from your cheek. “Maybe you got yourself a point, there.” 

–

You were the new kid in year 12. Normally, no one gave a shit–it was New York, after all–but you had a tendency to catch everyone's attention when you never sought to try. 

You were a country boy. A fella with a strange tendency to be kind and hold doors open for ladies or help some sorry idiot pick up their dropped assignment. That gentle lilt in your voice, the only evidence that you weren't from the city, always had people staring your way. Boys would mock you, especially when their girls flushed soft colours and whispered while they glanced your way. It didn't help that you were handsome as all hell, too. 

And one day, like a fucking fairytale, Miguel finally ran into you and got hit with the triple threat that was your accent, face, and genuinity–what he didn't expect, however, was to meet you at the Kwan's ranch.

You were clad in boots and jeans and a stupid cliche cowboy hat hung around your neck, hiding the impressive display of shoulder blades flexing and rippling with strong muscle as you shoveled and cleaned out the old hay and debris from the stables. Something warm and melodious trilled under your breath as you worked, and it beckoned like a siren's song--so captivating Miguel couldn't help himself. 

“Hey,” he said. 

You looked over your broad shoulder and blinked a few times, like you were showing off the brilliant hue of your eyes on purpose. A kindly smile made you shine brighter, too, like the sun somehow lit you up from within. 

“Howdy,” you said. 

“Howdy?” Miguel snorted and tucked his hands into the pockets of his shorts as he wandered in. “That's a little too country, isn't it?” 

“Is it now?” The twang in your voice must’ve been fake. No normal person sounded like they were ripped straight from a Western. “Maybe you're just too city.” 

“Hm.” Miguel crossed his arms and leaned against a beam as he watched you continue to work. “Maybe.” 

“Come on, now,” you laughed, “I can smell the city on you. Could probably taste it, too, if I could.” 

Miguel's face burned. His heart pitter-pattered just a little bit faster, soon going a lot faster when he registered the wink you threw his way. Were you flirting? Was it working? Was Miguel swooning? 

Yes, yes and yes. 

–

“Y'know, you don't have to be such a busy body,” Miguel said, wandering into the lab-turned-greenhouse. He had to admit, it looked good. Peaceful. And it certainly helped with keeping everyone fed and happy. So did your presence at Alchemax; you and Gabriella felt like a fresh coat of paint on a beat-up old car. A nice change. Good additions. 

And Miguel felt complete now that you were with him, too. There were still issues, still things to work out and problems to talk about, but it felt nice to work towards something selfish and meaningful. Something that was wholly and unabashedly for him and him alone.

But you were such a restless man. All day, every day, Miguel found you working; clearing snow, repotting, sowing seeds, cleaning, teaching, handyman-ing were all on your resume of husband material and so clearly those skills ruled your mind every waking hour of every day. It didn't help that the other folks In the colony realized just how much of a do-gooder sweetheart you were. Miguel was one more flirty comment away from nuking the building. 

But the way you smiled in the face of adversity let him keep a reasonable cool. Whether it was your awkward attempt to be cordial with someone who so clearly thirsted for you and your attention, or in a sheepish and innocently guilty way whenever Miguel called you out for working too much, you had a way of melting his frigid heart into something cool and light like an autumnal spring.

“I’m just puttering,” you hummed, pausing what you were doing to lean in and give him a kiss, careful to keep your dirt-crusted hands away from him and his neatness. “Just movin’ some of these into bigger pots. Don’t want them to go dying on us.” 

“I think they’d live.” Miguel hummed as he looked over the array of little plants sprouting with flourishes of brilliant emerald. His hand slipped to the small of your back before his arms looped around your waist, and he pulled you flush against his chest. “I need you more than they do.”

You laughed, soft and smoky. “That right?”

“Yeah.” Miguel left a sweet kiss on your neck, right on the odd, heart-shaped-ish scar he used to leave hickeys over back in the day. “They’re not the only ones that need fertilizing.”

“Christ. Did Pete teach you that one?” You laughed, but didn’t crumble and fertilize Miguel. Damn. 

Your partner huffed. “Come on, just–can’t you take a break, viejo?” He kissed your neck another handful of times and buried his face into the strong curve of your shoulder with a most petulant sigh. “Feels like I only get to see you when we go to bed.” 

“Not much different from how it used to be,” you said. “I worked nights, you worked days. Hardly got to see each other.” 

“I hated it,” Miguel mumbled. And you actually paused, your busy hands halting with the rest of your body. “I wanted you home with me. I didn’t want you to work nights.” 

He felt you shift again, the sound of your hands under running water sparking hope in his chest. But he snuffed it out himself–he knew you too well. You weren’t the type to stop when something needed to be done. Miguel couldn’t fault you for it, though, not when he was the exact same way. 

“Miggs.” You turned in his arms and held the sides of his face. “I’m not going anywhere. No night shifts, no driving after gun-toutin’ idiots on the highway, no overtime. You can always find me if you need me.” 

“Would you've come for me and Dana–” he stopped, a bout of regret punching the words back down his throat. The sudden distance in your eyes and the stiffness of your touch haunted him. Why did he have to talk? Why was he still chasing you away like this? 

“Don't,” Miguel pleaded, his hands flying up to your arms, holding you still. 

An overcast of something chased away the far look. Miguel wished he could read you as easily as you read him. He didn't know what you were thinking. Did he ever?

“I still have some things I'm working on getting past, Miggs,” you managed. “I don't--I'm trying.” 

Miguel nodded. What could he say, really? Try harder? Love me more? Get over it already? Your marriage reached a difficult point before the apocalypse; now, it'd climbed to new heights, but problems erased themselves thanks to the simple fact that the world had ended. There were more deadly things to worry about in the present.

“Just let me know if I can help,” your partner offered. And you smiled, tired and weary, unknowingly soothing the frigid panic freezing Miguel's veins. 

“Promise I will.” You gently stroked the arch of his cheekbone with the back of your knuckles. “Just don't worry too much. I'm alright.” 

And he believed you. 

– 

“Who's your friend?” 

The question drove Miguel insane, like a chisel tapping away at marble. Because everyone asked when they saw you, a stupidly handsome, ridiculously tall, polite southern gentleman dressed to the nines in a custom suit Miguel picked out himself–garments he picked out for his fiancé. His betrothed. His to-be husband. 

Miguel's coworkers knew he was taken. He thought it'd be obvious by whom since, well, he rolled up to the event with you and had complimentary outfits with you and you were wearing a fucking ring on the finger.

Still, countless folks introduced themselves to you, sweeping you up into conversations and leaning in too close for comfort. Miguel’s ego swelled, sure; he had the most impeccable, handsome, perfect man in the world, but his jealousy chomped away at his temper. He didn't like people thinking they had a chance with you. It was funny at first, but you were too nice to snap at them, to put them in their places. And, quite frankly, Miguel had had more than enough of watching his damn coworkers throw themselves at you the second they heard that stupid, endearing drawl or saw your charming, lopsided smile. 

He floated to your side, anchoring an arm around your waist while his other hand held a crystalline glass of something golden and fancy. 

“Hey,” Miguel hummed as your eyes met, and he leaned in, planting a soft, sweet peck onto your lips. “Havin’ fun?” The energy around the bystanders shifted dramatically. Miguel felt more pleased than a lion catching its prey. 

“Better now that you’re here,” you hummed, eyes creasing with a gentle tilt of your lips. He loved that look on you. It was the same one you wore every morning when you cooed your sweet good morning-s. 

“I make everything better,” Miguel agreed. He finished his drink and handed it off to whatever poor sod stood beside him. “Guess they haven’t heard the good news.” 

Your head tilted as whispers spread around you both. “Thought you would’ve told ‘em by now, honey.” 

“Well,” Miguel said, sing-songy and so obviously annoyed and bitter with how annoying this event had been for him. He took your hand and brought it up, feigning examination while purposefully catching the light on the band of gold hugging your finger. “I didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to not put two and two together.” 

With that, the vibe died. Soft scoffs and muttered words were left in the wake of party-goers as they abandoned the two of you. Some offered anxious goodbyes to you before shuffling off, but many who’d been burned and shit on by Miguel in the past were not pleasant enough to separate you from your man. Which Miguel preferred. 

Miguel smirked to himself, satisfied with his work. Though, when he met your eyes, you looked anything but impressed. Oops. He probably should’ve considered the aftermath.

“Look, they should know who they're messing with,” he testified.

You quirked a brow. “You mean who they're talkin’ to?” 

Miguel huffed, the smallest of pouts forming. “Don't give me that. They were all over you.” 

“Honey, no one's ever gonna replace you, alright? You've got nothin’ to worry about.” Still exasperated, you smiled, and fixed his tie for him, giving it a light tug and tucking it back against his breast neatly. “You think I'd ever fool around behind your back?” 

“What? No.” Why wouldn’t you? You were handsome, a gentleman, a man who could have anything and anyone you wanted with looks and charm alone. So maybe–maybe that's why Miguel did what he did. Maybe he was trying to show you just how wrong you were. 

“Exactly. Now, you stop worrying and try to enjoy the event, alright? Promise I'll stay by your side for peace of mind,” you said with a wink. Miguel melted. You were too good for him. 

“Por dios–yeah, alright, okay. Fine.” He huffed and pulled you in close to him again and gave you a sweet kiss to seal the deal. 

And of course, it was in that moment Dana passed him by with a smile full of secrets and damning evidence–a vault that he wanted to break open and force you to face.  

–

Miles fucked up. 

He yanked open that fucking car door–specifically when told not to–and set off the dinner bell for whatever undeads still wandered the streets of New York. 

The race through the city streets wasn't so easy, not after years of the military, militia and more trying to block off streets, take a stance against the unending hordes threatening human existence–tanks, trucks, barricades and more littered and cluttered the streets like the puddles after a storm. Every vault and jump was uncertain despite determined, never really knowing if the next car the group jumped onto would throw one of you to the ground with a broken leg or twisted ankle. Miguel almost wished Miles shattered his knee. 

Especially when you nearly didn't make it inside. 

Miguel pulled you through just as they got the shitty garage door down, and he pulled you up, eyes wide and jaw set as pain jolted your features. 

“Hey, hey, what's–you're fine. You're fine,” he whispered. His hand frantically touched where they could before settling on either side of your face as you both fought to catch your breath. “You're fine.” 

But you shook your head. “I, uh--need you to back away from me, baby.” 

“No.” 

“I gotta make sure, be careful–” 

“No.” 

You pulled his hands away from your face, and Miguel saw liquid ruby stain his skin, too. 

“Listen,” you rasped as you limped toward a rundown car with your cuffs unlatched from your belt. “We gotta–gotta clear the shop. Miggs, you take care of the doors.” 

But he didn’t. He stood still, shoulders rolling with the heavy breaths he sucked in while you and Gwen puttered around the small, homely garage to the tune of the undead hissing and snarling just beyond the metal door. Miguel took a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the–

“I–uh, what should I do?” Miles asked. 

Miguel whirled around and stalked to him, explosive rage fuelling his steps across the room. He grabbed Miles’ shirt and slammed him into the wall, looming over him like a titan. 

“You are not going to do anything,” Miguel growled. Miles’ eyes widened as he shrunk. “This is your fucking fault in the first place.”

“Hey, he’s just a kid–” Gwen tried, but Miguel’s quick glance her way stalled her. “He didn’t mean to–”

“That’s the problem. He doesn’t know how to survive out here and he’s not willing to use his fucking brain to fill in the gaps.” 

“Dude, let go of me!” Miles snapped, panic lancing through the quiver in his voice. “You can’t–” Miguel slammed him into the wall again. The undead shrieked and howled a mere half a foot away beyond the stone walls barring them out. 

Miguel basked in the dread eating away at Miles’ confidence. “It was a mistake to bring you here. You were a mis–” 

You yanked Miguel off the kid and slammed him into the wall, hand clapping over your partner’s mouth while your red-hot stare bore into the back of his skull and pinned him still. Your other hand held firm over his throat. You didn’t hurt him, but the fingertips digging into the straining tendons of Miguel’s neck threatened the opposite. 

“Quiet,” is what you commanded.

The room fell silent. And it stayed that way. It was hard to tell if anyone still breathed or lived in the minutes you all stood, patient, suffocating, and you stayed in that unsure limbo while the bloodthirsty reverie gradually de-crescendoed in the placid muteness. Slowly, slowly, with each wandering corpse that left to chase errant noises or to wander aimlessly with no mission left in mind, the air in your sanctuary began to heal. 

Your grip became kinder, and you let go, staggering back on unsteady legs. Then, you collapsed.

–

Your injury turned out to be a gash, not a bite. It ran across your shoulder horizontally, accented by a few other gouges bloodying your exhausted face and Miguel's busy hands. 

He stitched you up carefully yet thoroughly, eagerly trying to finish the job while you squeezed your eyes closed and gnawed on the belt wedged between your teeth. To your credit, you handled the temp stitches well. You only really shifted and panicked when Miguel tried to flush the wound with what water he had on hand. 

“That should hold until we get back,” he murmured for your ears only. He cut the thread with his teeth after tying it off, and wrapped your arm with a strip of torn shirt. 

You nodded tiredly and let him take the belt from between your teeth. “Thank you.” You sat up a little straighter against the wall and took deep breaths, eyes squeezed closed and brow beaded with sweat. 

Heat flared in Miguel’s chest. If not for you, Miguel would have ripped Miles a new one. He might have even thrown him to the undead in your name. If you'd come out infected, doomed to die, he'd make sure Miles suffered the same. 

“Don't be so hard on him,” you rasped, voice blending with the soft crackle of the unconvincing campfire. 

Miguel's stare hardened into ice. “He could've–” 

“Miguel.” He looked at you, and melted as you leaned into his warmth. “Lectures can wait. We need to get home first.” 

You were right. And it enraged Miguel further. He wanted to take his anger out on something, or better yet someone, but you just–

“You remember when you proposed?” You whispered. 

The creases between Miguel's brows lifted and smoothed. “‘Course I remember.” He slid a careful arm around your waist and held you to his side. He kissed the top of your head and inhaled your scent. “You were coming home from a night shift.” 

He remembered it too clearly, actually. You, being exhausted and out of it, still suited up in your uniform when you came through the door with a yawn. 

Coffee, your other beloved, lured you to the kitchen where Miguel knew you'd find him. Though he hated not waking up beside you those mornings, he cherished the sleepy back hugs you'd greet him with while you both waited for the carafe to fill. 

“Mornin’,” you grumbled into his neck between small kisses. “Sleep good?” 

Miguel always leaned back into you and basked in the wander of your hands and the scent of cigarettes hiding in your words. It all meshed too well with the bitterness of coffee. “Woulda slept better with you here.” 

You hummed, crackly and apologetic. “Good thing that was my last night shift this block, hey? Get to wake up with you tomorrow.” Your fingertips dragged up the hem of shirt in your search to feel the dips and curves of his toned stomach. “And the next day, and the next day…”

Miguel turned in your arms to spy your drowsy smile. He cupped your face, running his thumbs along the bags under your eyes, before giving you a peck. “I think you need a nap, mi amor.” 

“No, no, ‘m fine. Promise. Just need a shower ‘n I'll be right as rain.” You took one of his hands in your own and turned to kiss his palm. “Wouldn’t be opposed to a mid-morning nap, though.” 

“Lucky for you, I'm getting back in bed after coffee's done.” Miguel kissed you again, purposely mooshing his nose against yours. “Go take a shower. I'll pour you a cup.” 

You hummed, accepting the offer, and very very reluctantly separated from your lover. “Just don't make mine too crazy sweet, alright?” 

Miguel huffed. “Tch. I don't even make it that sweet.” But you were already sauntering off to the ensuite, loud yawn punctuating your departure. “Pendejo.” 

The coffee maker beeped not too long after. Thoughts of what to do with the weekend swirled through Miguel's mind with the springy, disoriented bounce of ADHD while he made up both of your coffees, one just sorta sweet, and one just a little (a lot) sweeter. Honestly, Miguel was bad at making coffee to your taste. Too often he'd watch you stand at the coffee maker, measuring cream, sugar and coffee in your quest to achieve a perfect bitterness to sweetness ratio. 

But when Miguel made you coffee, you never complained. Simply requested it not be too sweet. And everytime Miguel handed you that cup, trepidation filling the childish part of his pride, you always declared it was perfect from the first sip. 

Perfect. Like you. Like his life. That's why he needed to–

“Honey,” you called, bringing your partner back to the present. He turned to you, eyebrows raising in interest at just how low the towel hung from your hips–until he saw the small box in your hand. That made his heart start pounding. 

Miguel crossed his arms and cleared his throat, trying to hide his sheer panic. “Where did you–”

“You forgot it in the bathroom. I think. Found it on the counter.” 

Shit. Fuck. Shit. He really forgot to put that stupid thing away. He really went all cliché romcom and rehearsed in front of the mirror and didn't put the fucking ring away. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was supposed to be a goddamn genius, and yet–

You opened the box because of course you would. Anyone with a shred of curiosity would. And you whistled in a way that only cowboys could. Back when you were both young, you whistled at Miguel like that when he walked by. Lyla said you weren't one to do that, that that was a first for you.

“Damn. This thing looks expensive.” You pulled the gold ring out and looked it over as Miguel came to you. The band was simple gold, yes, but inlaid was a diamond flanked by your birthstone and his, all shaped in a striking baguette cut. The piece was simple and masculine, something befitting you entirely. 

But you were too out of it to realize what the fuck it was you were holding. 

“Bet I could buy a farm with this.” 

Miguel had to laugh a bit at that. “Most people would say a house, you know.” 

“Farm's better. Comes with a house.” You snatched up his hand and examined his fingers, probably sizing up which one the ring–your ring--was supposed to fit on. “Either way, you’re gonna turn heads with a whole mortgage on your finger, I'll tell you what.” 

Miguel's chest warmed. Maybe because of your smooth way of talking, or maybe because you were too sweet and admiring of your partner. Miguel couldn't tell. But it was probably both. 

“On my finger?” He repeated as he plucked the ring from the box. His heart beat in his ears. His face burned. But it was now or never. “I think it'd look better on yours.” 

“What?” You asked, soft and confused, sorta like you'd realized what that ring meant halfway through. “Wait, wait–” 

“I was going to.” Miguel slid the fine gold band on your left ring finger. “But then you ruined the surprise.” 

There was something magical in that moment. Your hand in Miguel's, the sparkle of new promise shining on your finger, the glitter of crystals pooling in your eyes. And your eyes were so wide, like you didn't quite believe Miguel would want to marry someone like you, so he had to say it, if not for the cliché, movie finale:

“Will you marry m–” 

You kissed him before he could finish. Your arms flew around his neck as your weight hit him like a ton of bricks. But he caught you both and held you close, laughing against your lips as the ball of doubt unraveled as every whispered chant of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ touched his skin. 

Those days were good. They were simple. They were The start of everything Miguel could have dreamed of–and then he ruined it. 

“Still hard to believe you wanted me, sometimes,” you reminisced, looking down at the dull, chipped set of rings hugging your finger still.

“You're the only one,” he murmured into your hair. “Even when–even if I–no matter what. No matter what, it was always you. It'll always be you.” Then where's your ring, Miguel?

You hummed and sunk into your partner's warmth more, staying silent with your thoughts as you watched the dim flicker of the fire and the two others collapsed around it. “Try not to be so hard on Miles.” Ah. “He screwed up. But we need to keep morale up.” 

Miguel huffed. “So you only mentioned our–you just wanted me to stop thinking about today.” 

“I wanted you to relax, sweetheart.” God, that smile was so clear in your voice. 

“Tch. Pendejo. He deserves to be yelled at.” 

“By his father. At home. Where it's safe.” 

“Fine.” 

[avelera]

So this is a bit random but:

Dream as the hero in a Greek tragedy and Hob as an Arthurian knight.

Thoughts?

(You obviously don’t have to answer if this is stupid or you don't want to)

If I may riff a bit on this, since I don't exactly have a pre-made answer (it's not a line of inquiry I've really considered), I'd say this:

Dream is absolutely a Greek tragedy protagonist. He thinks of himself that way, he's written that way. A major, indeed central, characteristic of Greek tragic heroes is that their virtues in some situations become their ultimate downfall. No one is dying in a Greek tragedy because they're inherently bad or failed people. It is the essence of that Picard line, "It's possible to do everything right and still lose. That's not failure, that's life."

Dream's dedication to his duty is an incredibly familiar virtue for a Greek tragic figure. It is also the virtue that will lead to his eventual end (in this incarnation). At least, in the comic. We'll see in the show if that's the case, and I have my suspicions based on the story's structure that we'll be seeing some deviation or, at the very least, a more optimistic spin on Dream's end.

Neil certainly wrote Dream to be a figure from a Greek Tragedy too, ironic considering he's also the "deus ex machina" in other situations, being literally a creature of godlike (or superior) power.

As for Hob as an Arthurian figure.... I'm less convinced. And I have a lot of reasons why because I think a lot about Hob's relationship, or lack thereof, with the tropes of knighthood as explored in both canon and fanon.

Let me quickly say that for fanon, sure, absolutely. I've seen incredible, complex, lovely takes on Hob as a Questing Knight or suffering the throes of textbook courtly love (more on that in a second, because I do find that part at least plausible) or otherwise being a gallant and heroic figure.

However, this is fanon. Canon Hob is certainly made more romantic, and I mean much more romantic by the show with the whole missed 1989 meeting and Ferdie's inherent and overwhelming charm. But comic Hob is... hmm, let's say he also has his charm but he's deliberately quite rough, quite crass, more than a bit dim at times, and the furthest thing from protagonist let alone romantic hero material. I think comic Hob would laugh, perhaps a bit wistfully, at the very idea of being an Arthurian figure. Certainly the Hob of "Sunday Mournings" (the Ren Faire comic issue) would be outright derisive of the notion of himself as a romantic figure or a questing knight.

Hob bought his knighthood. I think it's something that bears remembering: he bought it.

(Let me very briefly aside say, as a grubby Yankee myself, I actually find his audacity and sort of "Ha! I got away with it!" humor in that moment incredibly charming. Fuck yeah, stick it to the nobility! Fuck aristocracy, fuck nobility, and fuck aristocratic mythology like Arthuriana that reinforces those power structures. Good for Hob being a peasant who bought his knighthood, something that would be all but unthinkable in the grand sweep of Arthuriana, which for all its romanticism is still pretty definitive about everyone belonging in their social place.)

Anyway, Hob bought his knighthood with money he made getting into early English shipping and with money made from being on the right side of Henry VIII dissolving the monasteries (which were corrupt but were also one of the only forms of social services available to common people at the time, it's an incredibly complex issue) and Hob is as unbothered by the moral quandaries of this as he was the moral quandaries of being a soldier or a bandit. Hob is the furthest thing from being a Galahad. I'm not sure he could even aspire to Lancelot at his lowest on Hob's very best of days. He's just not built like that that we see.

At least, until 1989.

Now, as I've noted elsewhere, Hob's story is fundamentally altered by this ever so minor change in the show of making him still in England in 2022, still presumably waiting for Dream about a block away from the White Horse! Now, this is some courtly love shit right there! My jaw dropped when I began to map out the implications, not just of his waiting but of his becoming a history teacher.

Comic Hob never became a history teacher. Comic Hob seems all but allergic to romanticism and nostalgia. Comic Hob's highest moment of romanticism is wondering what exists in the depths of the ocean and thinking that maybe reincarnation possibly exists.

1989 changes everything. Actually, we even have evidence that in the comic timeline, Hob wasn't even in England by, what, 1992 when Dream passes away? He's in America with Gwen and they've been dating for a bit when she takes him to the Ren Faire, which is the day after Dream died. This implies that Hob doesn't usually stick around England like he does in the show timeline. If that wasn't already clear from the fact that most of his professions throughout the glimpses we see seem to involve maritime trade (sometimes of the very worst sort). The guy is constantly on the move but he stayed in England for Dream for over 30 years.

So there, at least, I think we have the first tendrils of something for fandom to grip onto that Hob does have the potential within him to go on a 30 year quest for his lost love, which is very Arthurian. I think even Hob would be perhaps shocked at himself for this, perhaps alongside becoming a history professor, finally coming to grips perhaps with the history he's seen, learning to care about it, learning that there's more to himself than he thought.

Because Hob is a weird immortal. He doesn't do the things we expect immortals to do, like learn from his mistakes and become some sort of avenging superhero, or even accumulate enough money to not need to have a day job any more, to just utterly detached from normal human life. Instead, he seems to stay grounded in a normal middle class life for whatever era he's in (barring disaster or windfall) and just happen to stick at it longer than anyone else by virtue of his immortality. It's so bizarre in the most fascinating way, it's why I'm obsessed with him, because he stays so grounded in his time period and not in any sort of special superhero way.

But 1989 really brings into sharp relief that there is an element of courtly love to how he interacts with Dream, the Beatrice to his Dante, this figure who inspires him, whom he waits for, whom he changes for (even when Dream himself perhaps doesn't believe himself capable of change?).

There I think there's something to the notion of Hob as, perhaps, a budding figure of courtly love, if not full Arthuriana knighthood.

But more intriguing and, if I may presume, what I think you're perhaps getting at with all of this is: could Hob's Questing Knight perhaps in some way disrupt Dream's Greek Tragic fate?

Well, it's not really possible in either of those genres played straight but, in the original canon, Hob didn't wait 33 years for Dream to come home to him.

So really, in the most optimistic way I'd say, anything is possible.

[karmathehalflander]

Why both Eddie and Venom are autistic and how the movies are actually a metaphor for neurodivergence

Includes some of my personal headcanons and concepts that I’ve been thinking about and need to share.

BE WARNED!!! This post is a bit long (and also a cringy, rambling, nonsensical mess) full thing under cut.

Some quick notes before we begin: when I have one of their names at the beginning of a section it means anything in that section only applies to one of them. (Idk, I couldn’t figure out how to organize this, you’ll see what I mean)

I don’t know much comic lore, all of this is based off of the movies. Though the movies are a different universe so I don’t think it will matter too much.

Also I use He/They/It pronouns for Venom.

In the end, Im just one guy with a hyper fixation please take everything I say with a grain of salt and feel free to add on or correct me about stuff. Especially if I say anything stereotypical or offensive about nurodivergance/autism a lot of this is based on some personal experience and I absolutely make mistakes and generalizations.

Alright enough of my yapping let’s get to it.

Overall big picture stuff

Applies to Both of them

the whole concept of them being “losers” together is kind of autistic coded. Autistic people are often viewed as incompetent or childish or useless. And I like to think they are connecting over that shared experience.

Noise sensitivity!!! Both of them have noise sensitivity! I probably don’t need to elaborate that much but that one scene in their apartment was some of the best overstimulation representation I’ve ever seen overstimulation guitar scene

Venom

Venom comes across as unfeeling because they don’t emote in a “normal” way.

They’re very blunt and literal.

Venom sometimes has a slightly higher-pitched voice when excited or angry. Which I’m going to attribute to him masking. He wants to appear tougher and scarier. This is important to its species and Venom, who is already perceived as weak by their peers, intentionally deepens his voice a bit to blend in. (This is definitely a headcanon but I love this concept so I don’t care that the real reason is that the voice modifier they use does silly things)

This is also why I think it’s so concerned about Eddie and him “looking bad” Looking weak was dangerous and they trained themself to hide “weakness”

It’s always “How does Venom affect people” and never “What does Venom need and how do other people’s actions affect them”

Venom prefers to express its thoughts and feelings through mental connection with its host and then have that person relay the information to whomever they are “speaking” to. Nonverbal communication!

Venom not understanding humans (social interaction, conventions, etc.) is kind of autistic coded.

Eddie

Edie kind of disregards a lot of social conventions. Still hangs out with his ex-fiancé AND her boyfriend. He also doesn’t seem to mind talking to Venom out loud.

Eddies is just kind of anxious in general.

Eddie struggles to find full time employment.

On that vein, he also struggles to maintain relationships.

Eddie's sense of justice. Eddie has a strong sense of justice and morals that often don’t align with generally accepted values and he follows this view of justice and morality to an absurd degree and it often gets him in trouble. Aka, the entire plot of the first movie is because Eddie has autism.

He wears the same clothes all the time.

Specific moments that I think about

Venom

Venom chewing on the tire swing (they both have oral stims btw)

Sand between his toes. Idk I just thought it was cute and chose to believe they like the sensation.

Say it with me. Tater tots are a safe food!!!

Venom rocks back and forth a lot.

This is a stretch but when Venom is like “look at all these weirdos, my kind of people” it’s a metaphor for him being queer but I’d argue it also kind of fits with neurodivergence. Neurodivergent people often connect with “weirdos” (other neurodivergent people)

Likes organization “Pile of bodies, pile of heads”

Eddie

I’ve been told Eddie chews on his necklace at the beginning of the movie but I can’t find the clip and can’t do a rewatch right now so take that with a grain of salt… (I chose to believe this happened though. Also his bracelets are stim heaven)

When he says “Oh, I have a parasite” to Mrs. Chen he had no clue what to say here. He just said the first thing that came to mind and panicked instead of explaining.

Also the way he says things funny. Ex: “✨It’s a treeeee✨” supa, supa, fhasstt” “Heee…. has. one. up. hi’s. Ass toooooo” “ET. Phone home. Aliens? 😃” I chose to believe they are vocal stims (I also attempted to find a compilation but I couldn’t find any. Maybe I’ll make one sometime)

Eddie also makes sound effects a lot.

Eddie writes notes on pen and paper instead of digitally.

He apologizes an excessive amount. Like he says “I’m sorry” to people actively trying to kill him. Which is so real.

“I just bit that guys head off” “I, uhhh, yea I’ve been there it’s not fun” 😕

Eddie also rocks back and forth. Which can be seen in this scene

Quick segment into why I think Venom was rejected by other Klyntar (it’s because he has autism)

Venom doesn’t adapt as quickly or as efficiently as other Klyntar. It doesn’t handle change well.

All of the normal Klyntar weaknesses are turned up to 1000 with them. Instead of just certain frequencies, the range that hurts him is larger and is also affected by loud noises. As shown by: “Venom” car alarm scene

instead of just fire, heat also bothers it. Also doesn’t adapt to light well. (Just a headcanon)

Can’t create weapons out of their body like other Klyntar. struggles with “simple” skills.

Much more emotional than other Klyntar and develop attachments (also purely a headcanon)

Just overall didn’t fit well into their society.

Just headcanons

Venom and Eddie are so compatible because their brains work the same way.

“I wish I could just mentally project my thoughts and feelings directly into your brain. Oh wait, we can do that!”

Venom also has temperature sensitivities. He gets hot.

Venom likes to stim to low key music, mainly jazz and lo-fi. Does the one song on repeat for three hours to wring all the happy chemicals out of it like a dish rag thing.

Venom also absolutely loves cheesy pop music (unrelated to anything here but I’m right and I needed to include it)

Venom functions as a weighted blanket for Eddie when he’s anxious. Maybe even hides under his shirt and stuff and becomes an extra weight.

Eddie stims with his jewelry.

Venom likes to sit in the freezer. Sometimes they visit Mrs. Chen's walk in just to chill (lol)

Purely my opinion but I think Venom also has some light sensitivity for a bit because it’s not used to being in such a bright environment. He gets used to it eventually but every once in awhile he finds the city lights overstimulating.

They are both very tactile. Touching things. Love a good texture.

Venom is super particular about food for someone who eats out the garbage but certain textures and flavors drive them crazy.

Venom hates vegetables. (Except for celery because it likes the crunchy and stringyness of it)

How all of this makes for a great metaphor!

Feeling like an alien in the world is probably the most relatable thing for a lot of nurodivergent people. Like there’s a manual for being human you don’t have. And just the concept of a literal alien showing up and struggling to navigate in a world not made for it is so relatable!

The way they both immediately connect to each other because they have the same weird brain stuff and weren’t accepted by their respective societies is so adorable and wholesome.

“We’re not so different, you and I” This line lives rent-free in my mind at all times. It’s my favorite quote. I think it perfectly encapsulates their relationship and why it’s special. They have autism and are bonding because the other is the first person who truly understands them! (Cries, screams, throws up)

In conclusion

They are in love and have autism. And they cling to each other because they are the first people to truly understand each other. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Also I listened to UFO by Smith and Thell on loop while writing this. It’s very autistic symbrock coded so give it a listen if you’re a fan of inde-pop.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Do you think that the gaang atla movie might make casual fans realize bryke are not the best writers? Like Everywhere they get praised but honestly if the writing in the movie is at the levels of the comics I could maybe see ppl turn on them a bit ( it also sucks bc I doubt katara and zuko will even interact in the movie)

Hi anon! I think people will almost certainly be disappointed in the new Avatar Studios movie, because nothing has even come close to the quality of ATLA after the original show ended. However, from what I’ve observed in the fandom, there’s always someone other than Bryke to blame. For example, when people rag on Korra, they blame Nickelodeon. When they rag on the comics, they blame Gene Yang (and incidentally I’ve actually seen a K/ataang shipper say that the reason the comics are so bad is because Gene Yang is a Zutara shipper — as if a grown ass professional would compromise his contract / reputation for a ship war). And when they rag on the first live action movie, they rag on M. Night. I’m not saying that Bryke are completely at fault for the shortcomings for these projects — collaborative creative pursuits are wonderful, magical things and it’s hard to know where credit and blame go when the whole point is that collaboration is beyond the sum of its parts — but the bottom line is that when certain fans are hellbent on not blaming Bryke, there are always other scapegoats.

I’m friends with many casual fans, and they were the ones who got me into the show. Honestly, I don’t think they even gave a second thought to Bryke until they left the Netflix production, which is convenient because now people can credit Bryke for the ingenuity of ATLA and blame Netflix for driving them away. I’m not sure casual fans will turn on Bryke for making a mediocre movie…BUT: if Zuko undergoes a character regression similar to his comics arc, people will probably get mad. Zuko’s redemption arc is widely considered one of the best on TV. You cannot find a Reddit thread about “best redemption arcs of all time” without Zuko being one of the top answers. From Bryke’s interviews, it kind of feels like they don’t really understand his appeal, and if they butcher his character in the absence of writers who got him more…well, I think people will be real mad about that. I mean, people got so mad about NATLA Katara, and she’s nowhere near as beloved as Zuko b/c misogyny and racism and many people found her annoying but that’s a whole other thing

And on a related note, I agree that Katara and Zuko will probably barely interact in the new movie, and it will seem kind of stilted and awkward. I remember an interview with Aaron Ehasz where he said that he’s not really a shipper and he doesn’t write stories with shipping in mind: what matters more is letting the narrative drive itself. That POV, undoubtedly shared by others in the writers’ room (including MVP Elizabeth Welch), is what was responsible for the development of the Katara - Zuko friendship in the original show in the first place. It’s very, very stifling to prioritize a ship war over the actual story. Antis claim Zutara shippers create convoluted fanfic plots where other characters and relationships are downplayed in favour of their ship, but that’s exactly what happens in the canon comics wrt K/ataang. I don’t know if it’ll seem so transparent to the casual viewer, but even if the motivations aren’t obvious, the decline in quality sure will be. For the sake of my love for all Gaang-related shenanigans I hope Bryke won’t go down that road for the new movie, but…well, they’ve done pettier things.

Thanks for your question anon, and please share any of your further thoughts!

[wingfril]

My newest shipment just arrived so let’s talk about some (recent) lottery-only items! The picture above is from the most recent d.grayman playing card drawing, which you could’ve entered by subbing to zebrack comics.

They’re really pretty! I don’t know if it was worth $350 dollars though. There’s only 2 types of illustrations plus the card back and spades,

Funny thing about the prices — I’m pretty sure I’m the reason why the floor for this is 350 on mercari. When the drawing results come out, several people started selling the cards on mercari. I knew I wanted something that’s super exclusive like this, so I started paying attention. There were three sellers in particular competition against each other. over a span of around 2-3 days, the price dropped from ~100k yen down to 59k yen. Keep in mind that these drops were mostly happening while I was asleep being on the east coast. My ideal price would’ve been around 200 usd or ~30k yen, but I’m willing to pay more. Right before going to bed, I saw that the price has fallen to below 60k, and said screw it. Next morning, I woke up, and the main price competitor’s cards were also sold, and a few days later the third person, with a slightly higher price, also ended up selling. Since the price decreases happen primarily while I was asleep, and I knew that as soon as one sells, the other is going to get bought up too, might as well pay a little extra. I’m also 99% sure that at least 2/3 of the other sets on mercari was bought by chinese people, since I see their posts on chinese social media.

To be honest though, if I knew that there’s only two new drawings on these cards, I probably would’ve waited a bit longer before buying them. Oh well.

The other lottery item I had is from the vol 28 drawing.

They’re B5 sized manuscript replicas. They’re stunning — you can see so many details on these. Every stroke on neah/mana’s hair is clear as day. I’d like to frame them but *screams in nyc and paper walls*.

The other drawing item is a acrylic board of the vol 28 cover.

I’m still debating on buying that off of mercari. I think I will once the yen drops a little more, but we’ll see. I wouldn’t lose sleep over not getting it.

As a side note unrelated to dgm: the reason why I’m buying so much recently is 1. I realized that a few thousand literally makes no difference to me and my house owning goals (I LOVE NYC) and 2. The yen is incredibly cheap right now. Even though some Japanese collectors are price gauging, some of the items are not too much more expense than their originals price (there’s a few absurd outliers, which I’ll covered in two months… because I paid for some of the outliers and now they have to be shipped from China).

The Japanese fed has spent billions on trying to stabilize the currency, but to no avail. it’s really bad for any Japanese companies doing import, but it’s really really good for usd based consumers. As long as the US federal reserve and their interest rate remains high (and a bunch of other factors), yen is going to continue getting crushed against the dollar. There’s some items I’m eyeing on that I’ll probably only buy if the yen drops to at least 1:160 against the dollar. If you zoom into the last month of usd:yen, you can literally see when the Japanese fed intervened.

[i-trash-about-things]

a.n.: I can't believe this took me 6 freaking months to write. It definitely doesn't live up for the hype, but for some reason the words just wouldn't flow. In the mean time, I graduated! Actually went to prom! It kinda sucked, I really don't see the hype behind it!

Anyway, enjoy– and thank you for the patience to those that were interested in this story. If you're still interested by the end of this part– well, you'll know for yourself if there will be more lol ;)

Part 1!

Multiple perspectives (3rd and 1st person); Henderson!Reader; GN!Reader; use of Y/N; Billy Hargrove Survived (but he isn't a racist piece of shit); Everyone might be OOC, sorry lol; swearing; light violence; mostly fluff; English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn’t make sense :p; no beta, we die like Vecna should’ve

4.5k words.

Third Time's The Charm.

Dustin’s day has been good, in his less than humble opinion.

School sucked the same as always, but hey! Everything other than that was actually pretty awesome!

His older sibling popping by on a whim wasn’t a rare occasion, far from it. When they first moved to college, he cried the whole day thinking he would only see them on Christmas, and now it’s like they never moved in the first place!

Well, maybe it’s because of the Upside Down thing and how they almost died about a million times in the last 4 years, but Dustin liked to believe it’s because they just love him very very much.

But, one thing actually did change.

Eddie.

“Dustin, my man, my favorite nerd, what a sight to the sore eye you are right now!”

Speak of the devil.

Him and Eddie have known each other for a while. I mean, how could he not when the metal-head has been his sibling's best friend for almost all his life?

And with the time to get used to each other, plus Dustin’s natural attentiveness and attention to detail, he can read this guy like the cheap rip-off comic of spider-man he is.

Eddie wants something.

“Is that a new upgrade to your walkie? Dude, that looks sick, what does it do?”

“Nothing, it’s just a normal radio actually.”

“Oh.”

A snort leaves his nose. Dustin shakes his head, setting the walkie talkie on the library table before looking up to his friend.

“You really aren’t subtle, my friend.”

“First things first: how dare you. Secondly-” Eddie pushes the nearest chair back, giving him enough space to sit on the old table. The notebook under him crinkles, but he just pushes it aside, clearly in too much of a rush to care about a random person’s notes. “I need your help.”

“If it’s about the whipped cream on Lucas’ backpack and his basketball shoes, it’s too late. The operation is already in motion.”

“Operation- wait, did you put whipped cream on Sinclair’s shoes?”

“What? No I didn’t. You didn’t hear that from me.”

“Mhm.” Eddie just sends Dustin a look, raising an eyebrow with just a very done expression on his eyes, before shaking his head. “You know what, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear anything.”

He leans closer, likes he’s about to tell the biggest secret of his life. The notes beneath his butt crumble further.

“It’s about your sibling.”

“Y/N? What they have to do with anything?”

“I’m gonna ask 'em to prom.”

If Dustin were drinking something, he would’ve done a spit take right now.

“WHAT?!”

“SHHHH!” The other school library attendees shush him, all glaring in their direction. Dustin flushes a little, curling into himself, but Eddie doesn’t even flinch.

“I want to take your older sibling to prom, Henderson. Like, real bad.”

“Dude!”

“What?!”

“That’s my sibling!”

“And my best friend! So??”

“So–” Dustin sputters. How does he even respond to that?!

Don’t get him wrong, of all the people he could’ve picked to compete for your hand, Eddie would always be his champion. His two favorite people??? Sign him up!

Doesn’t mean his into it, tho!

“Why?!”

“What do you mean ‘why’?! You’ve ever met ‘em?! They're the coolest most beautiful, and funniest person I’ve ever known! Why wouldn’t I want to take them to prom?”

“No, not that- why the change? I thought you wanted to go with Chrissy??”

That gets a reaction out of him.

Eddie flinches, looking away. He passes a hand through his hair, half hiding himself beneath the brown curls.

“Chrissy… She’s…”

Dustin does not like the hesitation. The kid crosses his arms over his chest, squinting up at Eddie with distrust.

“Look, I’m all for you going after my big sibling–”

“Really? That wasn’t what it looked like two seconds ago.”

Dustin squints further, frowning, and Eddie groans.

“Just keep going.”

“As I was saying, I don’t mind you taking my big sibling to prom… If you actually mean it.”

It’s his turn to frown, a mirror of Dustin’s expression, but in confusion and a little bit of offense.

“What? Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

“You were just drooling over Chrissy, like, two days ago! I get you getting rejected, but don’t use them as a rebound, dude!”

“What?!”

“SHHHHH!” Strike two, the people around them shush them both again. Dustin doesn’t flinch this time, both him and Eddie a bit too enthralled in the topic at hand.

“How could you say that?! You know how much I care about Y/N!”

“I know that, but I also know how much they cares about you.”

“What does that has to do with anything?”

“Uh- Literally everything? What, you think you can just go and ask them all willy nilly to go to prom with you like it’s no big deal, and they won’t feel like it’s a big deal? Thye care, dude! What you say matters to them!”

Something in that makes Eddie pause, breath hitching on the tip of his tongue. He knew that, of course… Didn’t he?

His mind flashes back to the three years ago, just in the middle of prom season.

“Y/N Henderson, you did not–”

“Oh but I did! I did, despite it all!”

Eddie feels the bright afternoon sun on his back, the ever warming spring air making his hair and their hair flutter in the wind.

Today has been a weird day. His friends all seemed either jittery or smug, like they know something he doesn’t, a joke he didn’t get the punchline yet.

But the weirdest thing? His best friend wasn’t waiting for him by his parking spot.

At the end of class, he found a pretty envelope on his locker, attached to it a blue little flower– one of the few he recognizes. Forget-me-not’s.

“6 years sure go by fast. We’ve been through a lot in that time, didn’t we? And we will go through a lot more shit, knowing us like I do.

I was hoping you’d indulge me on a little game, just for old times sake.

Check the supply closet closest to you.”

From then on, he went on a surprisingly elaborate scavenger hunt. Passing through closets, to bathrooms, even checking in with his friends when the little clues told him to. Surely enough, each one handed him a new letter, and each one had a soft and excited smile on their lips.

After a good half hour of running around the school like a headless chicken, Eddie had accumulated enough clues to fill both his pockets and enough flowers for a small bouquet. The last letter sits on his hand as he dashes around the halls, a big smile on his lips.

“Ok, I promise this is the last one– for real this time, I swear.

This had been a rough year on you, but I was hoping to send it off with a bang. One last middle finger to the world before I have to leave you behind to fend for yourself in the lion’s den.

So, Edward Munson, meet me by the woods, in our usual spot.”

“Henderson, you absolute maniac!” Eddie all but jumps over the picnic table, practically throwing himself on his best friends arms. They don't even blink, only opening up and holding him. Firm, steady and warm. Their laughter feels like electricity and care all at once over his skin, and he breaks into goosebumps.

“Did you like it? Had any fun?”

“Hell yeah I did! How long have you been planning this, dude?!”

“Ah, who cares about that?” They flick their wrist, like trying to get rid of an annoying fly. Eddie’s way too used to their dismissive and nonchalant nature at this point, so he just laughs and hugs them close again.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what did I ever do to deserve you?”

He can’t see, but their smile softens. The hold on him tightens, and they buries their face into the mess of his hair.

“You’re you. That’s more than enough.”

After a beat, they finally pull away from the other. Eddie doesn’t even questions at their dazed gaze, used to it at this point, even if he never truly knew the reason behind it. He squeezes their shoulders, still a little incredulous at the situation. Taking his little moment of silence as an opportunity, Y/N steps back and takes one last flower from their pocket. It’s a little bit beaten up after being squashed in the hug, but it makes Eddie’s heart feel tight anyway.

“Look, I know this hasn’t been an easy year for you. You’ve been through a lot of shit, dealing with shitheads like Carver and Hagan, and that you didn’t graduate, but… But I wanted to make the end a good memory, you know? Eat junk food, dress fancy for once in our lives, pretend that we’re the protagonists for once, you know?”

They take a deep breath, eyes locked on the little flower on their hand. It’s impossible to lift their head and finally gaze into the eyes of their best friend. The love of their life.

Bah, call 'em dramatic. They're already way too deep into this cheesy bullshit to care.

“So. Eddie. Eds. Angel. Would… You, maybe… Like to… Gotopromwithme??”

Well that was smooth.

Still, it doesn’t seem like he cares about their awkward stumbling.

Instead, he just pulls them into one more hug, laughing like a maniac.

“Yes! Of course I’d like to, you dumbass! You’re my best friend!”

And those words make their heart races and breaks, all at once.

They let the little blue flower fall to the ground, unbothered by the numbness on their fingertips.

“I know. You’re my best friend too, Eds.”

Eddie shakes his head, locks brushing against his nose at the intensity. This is a crisis for another time.

“I know, believe me. But I’m telling the truth! I don’t care about Chrissy, I legitimately want them to be my date!”

Dustin raises an eyebrow, feeling the genuine longing in Eddie’s tone. It’s a surprising match to his siblings, every time they talks about Eddie. That lingering bitter-sweetness in the end of the sentence, the longing in each and every word. He’s heard them rant and ramble, on and on, about the metal-head more time than Dustin feels like counting, he knows that tone. It’s a perfect match.

So, he sighs, leaning his head back against the library’s chair to the point his cap almost falls off.

“Fine, I’ll help.”

“Yes!”

“SHHHHH!”

…

Today was… Weird.

Maybe it was the way the sun was beating down my face, too hot for a spring day, maybe it was the fact that the 7-11 I passed by didn’t have my favorite slushy flavor, but something just seemed… A little off today. Like someone just tilted the world a little bit to the left.

I take a long drag from the cigarette between my lips, watching the shining sun from my spot by my car. Sitting beside me is none other than Billy Hargrove, the same glare up at the sky as mine.

It’s always funny hanging out with Billy by the school’s grounds. We used to beat each other up in this same parking lot, about two years ago! And now look at us, sharing a can of coke beneath the spring sky like two dads waiting for their kids after football practice.

“I can hear your brain about to cook up some weird shit to say, Henderson. Please keep it to yourself.”

I don’t even blink at his harsh tone, putting a sugary sweet expression and leaning to lay my head on his shoulder.

“Awn, I know you love my commentary.”

He’s quick to brush me off, with not nearly as much strength as he used to a few years ago.

“I’d rather hear the screams of children.”

All I can do is snort, laughing slightly before taking a sip of the can between us.

Billy is one of the only people acting somewhat normal today, same snarky responses that once made me lunge for his throat and same pissed off frown.

He’s also one of the few people I trust the most, funnily enough. What can I say, he’s seen the worst in me and somehow still sticks around- probably because I’ve seen the worst in him too, but still. Maybe that trust is what made me press the halfway burnt cigarette into the ground and turn to look back at him.

“Hey, dude?”

“Hm.”

“Is it just me or is everyone kinda off today?”

And to my surprise, he doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, he raised his own cigarette to his lips, taking a long and deep drag.

“Nope, just you.”

“Pfft, weird, something tells me your lying?”

“Something? What, like voices in your head? Damn, I knew you were crazy, Henderson, but this is new ground.”

“Billy.”

“… Hmph.”

He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets, sunglasses tilting down just enough to see the look he sends me. I shake my head and he relaxes. There’s a small pause after that. He flicks the cigarette ash off, before glancing to me again.

“Look, it’s nothing you have to worry about, ok?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his words, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Last time you said that, you were possessed by a god damned spider monster thing.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m not. So chill out.”

Isn’t he sweet?

I chew on the inside of my cheek, breathing in slowly before letting out a long long sigh.

“Fine.” A pause. But then I turn to look at him again, with the most serious expression I can. “But if you are possessed again-”

“Fuck off.”

“Pfft-”

The loud ringing of the school bell quickly brings our attention back to the front doors of Hawkins High. Like clockwork, they open and the sea of teenagers roll out, flooding the parking lot. My eyes drift between faces, looking for any sign of my favorite club, but the first thing I catch is a familiar cap and a mess of red hair.

Dustin immediately runs up to me, his cap hitting me on his attempt at a dive hug. Max is not so far from him, but instead of the affection attack she just flips Billy the bird… which he quickly reciprocates, smirking.

The two types of siblings.

“Hey, Junior.” The sarcastic and rougher edge to my voice quickly melts off, turning to the normally sweeter and more relaxed tone reserved only for my little brother. Dustin immediately turns to me, smiling like he always does- but, of course, there’s something off.

“Hello there, older sibling figure.”

… ok.

I just let out a chuckle, a little weirded out. See? It can’t be just me, everyone’s acting all skittish for some reason. Did I miss the memo?

Max pushes Dustin’s cap over his eyes before he has the chance open his mouth again, her eyes literally screaming for him to shut up. Then, she turns to me.

“If he hurts you, tell me. I’ll kick his ass.”

“… What???”

The hell’s going on?

Dustin clears his throat, pushing his hat back and sending Max a half hearted glare.

“As I was about to say- Eddie told me to give you this.”

From the depths of his many pockets, he pulls a… letter? A note, better said, scribbled in a chicken scratch of a writing I know way too well.

Before I can open it, he quickly pulls me so I look at him again.

“I’m gonna catch a ride with Max today I’ll see you later ok bye-”

And he practically drags Max to Billy’s car… which she weirdly let’s him do. I look back at the blonde next to me… and he doesn’t even blink at the interaction, stepping on the rests of his cigarette before turning away from me without a word.

What…. the hell.

As the familiar camaro drives off the parking lot, leaving me to my lonesome by my truck, I glance down at the note in my hands. Crumpled notebook paper, with the little bits used to wrap around the spiral still attached, and that familiar handwriting.

After a huff of amusement, I open up the letter.

“Greetings, dear adventurer! It is I, Eddie the Pardoned (we really need to workshop that title).

This is your formal request to join in on an adventure through the ever changing land of Hawkins High school. Walk across the mighty and dangerous hallways where jocks once slammed our faces into lockers, or traverse into the terrifying lands we call the gym showers!

Follow the riddles and clues, and if you’re lucky, the gates of a whole new adventure shall open to those with brave and worthy hearts.

Good luck.”

“Dramatic dork.” I mumble beneath my breath, but the smile on my lips can only be described as disgustingly smitten.

I look over the note again, flipping it between my fingers. Surely enough, more writing in the back.

“Those who trail my path are the best liars, but also the most emotional of artists. The many nights you’ve spent between my walls, you were never quite yourself. Oh, wow, he really wasn’t kidding on making riddles, huh?”

I can’t help but let out a chuckle, raising my eyes from the paper in my hands and looking around the parking lot. There’s a lot of people walking around right now, most speeding to get home after a long long Friday, but my eyes don’t catch a single hint of anyone using the familiar Hellfire shirt. Which is definitely weird, they’re normally the first ones to leave the school. Still, no sign of Jeff, or Bryan, or Gareth, much less Ed.

I look back down to the riddle.

“The many nights you’ve spent between my walls” So it’s a place, then? One I’ve been before, if Eddie isn’t being a little shit and using “you” because he thinks it sounds better.

“Those who trail my path are the greatest liars, but most emotional of artists.” Greatest liars? And most emotional of artists. Well, if it’s a place, related to art, then the art room? But then why the lying?

“You weren’t quite yourself.” Wasn’t… quite myself. Hm.

A place, probably one at school since I doubt he would’ve gone so extra as to go around the entire city, related to art and lying. “Wasn’t quite yourself.”

…

Wait, the drama club?

Art of lying- could he mean acting? A room related to acting in which I’ve been to before.

The drama club, at D&D nights!

My feet are moving before my brain is, crumpled up note being carefully stuffed into my pants pockets.

…

Not far…

“The bird has taken flight, over.”

“Dustin, will you stop with the codenames?! Just- Just get into position! Over!”

…

How many damn riddles can this man write??? I must’ve collected more than twelve by now!

There’s a small collection of notes in my left hand, my pockets too filled up to stuff any more of them without damaging. My shoes squeak against the floors of the mostly empty school, echoing in my ears as I run from room to room, classroom to classroom.

I swear, If this is some sort of elaborate prank, I’m going to kick Eddie’s ass until Halloween comes.

I let out a groan leaning down to reach another, stuck beneath my– well, not mine, it hasn’t been mine since I graduated– seat at the iconic Hellfire Club lunch table. When I turn to the back, I’m surprised to see there isn’t a riddle this time, no little set of verses to greet me. So, after a small hum of interest, I fold it open.

“If you’ve reached this point of your quest, fair knight, I’m proud to tell you your prize awaits you! (Because I’m not like SOME people who do FAKE OUTS THREE TIMES IN A ROLL)

All that’s left is for you to come and get it. Your king awaits in our usual spot.”

-E.M.

“Pfft– my king?” I can barely pay attention to the soft laugh that leaves my lips, chest too warm and filled with cotton to notice. Dork.

Still, I just set the note with the rest, walking to the nearest exit with a smile on my lips.

I’m still have no idea what Eddie is planning with all of this. Despite the dozen plus notes, he hasn’t gave me a single of hint for the reason of this scavenger… Hunt.

…wait.

I mean, it’s not– it’s not possible, right?

He was talking about inviting Chrissy less than a week ago!

Nah, nah, yeah, it’s not… He wouldn’t. Not me, anyway.

…

Well I just made myself sad.

A groan leaves my lips as I shake my head, hair flowing around with the motion before bouncing and stopping, strands sticking to my eyelashes. Enough with the self pity. I’m better than this. Whatever it is that Eddie has planned to me is going to be awesome.

The hallways echoes with my steps, the sound of my combat boots squeaking in the shiny tile flooring being the only sound as I leave the school. It’s late afternoon at this point, the sun starting to set as everything is painted golden. The walk through the woods is longer than I remember, the late spring wind ruffling through my clothes. After a while, I’m reaching the clearing…

And there’s no one here…?

“Eddie?” I spin in place, looking in between the trees for any sign of the silhouette I know better than my own. It’s quiet here, with the exception of the singing birds and early crickets. I stuff my hands in my pockets, and my brows twitch in worry. “Did I take too long…?”

When I pull them back, one of them holds the last hint. It’s impossible to be anywhere else– he literally said our usual spot, and this is it, isn’t it? Unless my first suspicion was right, and he really meant to spread these around the town– wait, no, then why would he set them up around school? What am I m–

“BOO– OW!”

“EDDIE?!”

My knuckles sting, heart beating louder than a drum as I stare at my fallen best friend, cradling his own face. Immediately I reach for him, falling to my knees by his side.

“Jesus Christ, Munson, you scared the shit out of me! I’m so sorry– Oh, god dammit, sweetheart, c’mere, c'mere… Let me see…” I gently tug his hands from his face, touches practically feather light and with as much care as I can channel. He laughs all the while, completely unbothered by the forming bruise on his cheek.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson– You pack quite the punch! Holy crap, I think you dislocated my jaw–”

“Stop saying shit like that, you’ll manifest it.” I chuckle under my breath (but do check his jaw, making sure everything is in place and I didn’t punch one of his teeth in.). “Why the hell you sneaked up on me like that? What thought process made you think that was a good idea??”

“I don’t know!” He laughs, falling limp on the grass while looking up at me. His smile is almost dopey, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he said he just got baked. He doesn’t smell like weed, tho. Just smoke and cologne, the one that makes me wish I could bury my nose into his neck and just live there. “I thought it’d be a good idea? All I needed to do was distract you for a little while!”

“Distract me?” I snort, brows tilting in a playful frown. “From what?”

“Shit–” And at the sound of my brother’s cursing, I lift my eyes from my best friend’s face.

What do I find if not the rest of the Hellfire club, haphazardly stacked on each other’s shoulders putting up a huge banner on the branches of the nearest threes. Jeff has Mike on his shoulders, while Bryan has Justin– and Lucas and Gareth watch a few steps away, clearly trying to not bring attention to themselves as I turn to them.

“Michael, if you ruin my jacket with your dirty ass shoes–”

“I’m trying not to! Stop moving!”

“Guys! Guys, I’m gonna fall! BRYAN–”

“You’re not gonna fall, Dustbin– stop being a pussy and just tie the goddamn thing.”

“What the hell…?” I mumble, even more confused than when I found the kids sneaking Eleven into Mike’s basement.

Eddie doesn’t answer me with anything but a cackle, getting up to his feet and jogging up to the rest of the club. His grin is so wide his dimples are lost between smile lines, brown eyes shining in the late afternoon sun that warms my skin and cheeks. He skids to a stop under the banner, not even waiting to check if it’s tied up properly before tugging the bottom and unrolling it.

‘COME DITCH PROM WITH THIS FREAK?’

And the arrows badly painted on the bottom point directly at him, that turns around to beam my way with his smile brighter than the sun.

…

I don’t know if the guys have fallen silent or if I just gone deaf, but I don’t have the mental power to look. It’s like the whole world turned… quiet.

My heart can’t seem to choose between skipping beats or skidding to stop. I can feel my skin tingling, my knuckles going from stinging to burning. As does the back of my neck and the bottom of my gut.

I read the words, over and over again, shocked…

“Is this…” My tongue feels like it’s knotted, tied and shipped to the other side of the country. No words could ever describe– whatever the hell I’m feeling right now. “Are you… Is– Are you for real??”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, the warm orange lighting almost making it look like his cheeks are dyed a soft red. His smile is confident, almost cocky and playful as he looks down at me. “As real as a I can be.”

My mouth feels drier than a desert, and I swallow harshly. I can’t turn my eyes from him, like I’m transfixed… which, in someways, I am.

He has hypnotized me, a puppet on his strings.

I feel starstruck.

Eddie takes my silent as a go ahead, because after standing under the banner for a second, he slowly walks to me again. For some reason, I don’t even think to get back on my feet until he’s almost right in front of me, his head obscuring the sun as if he’s the only star I need.

“Henderson,” He says, the smirk on his lips almost sheepish. “I’ve got to apologize. I’ve been… kind of a shit best friend for the last couple years. You’ve been my paladin, my white knight, the voice of reason when I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t even thank you properly.”

He extends his hand, the black stone in his ring finger catching the sunlight from his smile.

“So let me make it up to you… Will you let me take you with me to not-prom?”

My throat closes up, my eyes sting, but my smile is as bright as the moon.

“Yeah, I will.”

And I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

taglist! @eddiesgirlforever @plk-18 thx for the support and the patience!! :D

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

Hi 👋🏻 you generously offered to give me some fic recs once you're back home if I gave you some more details as to what I'm looking for. Basically, anything tedependent that's close to, around or after canon. Open to personal favourites that deviate from this, though. Thanks in advance. Seeing the tags made me so happy! ❤️

oughh sorry this took forever, long story short getting back home ended up being a 24 hour comically terrible disaster and then i was just. tired :( but HERE I AM NOW!!!!!!!!!YAY

okay! OKAY.

tedependent

near/around canon

i'm going to assume leaning away from nsfw since it wasn't specified

no preference towards complete/incomplete, but i tended for the former

let's start with a ⚡LIGHTNING ROUND⚡!

these are fics I think at least somewhat fit your description (not sure I'm a great judge of 'close to canon') that i don't have any extra commentary to add about (that's not a bad thing!) they're all good!

A Mighty Nice Shine by turingpatterns - oneshot (complete) (trent's daughter! cute fic!!)

For As Long As We Can by ShutUpGwen - longer fic (complete) (post-canon getting together, kinda)

All Publicity, as they say by JessJessTheBest - medium sized fic(?) (complete) (very cute and funny social media centered fic)

if music be the food of love, play on by literary_lesbian - medium sized fic (complete) (great author, mae pov deserves more love)

Take My Whole Life Too by ItsClydeBitches - oneshot (complete) (adorable valentines day fic)

it's nice to have you here by foxwatson - longer fic (incomplete) (excellent 'there's only one cottage' fic, not s3 compliant as it was written before s3)

Holding Pattern by Wildgoosery - oneshot (complete) (honestly worth it for the ending alone--not that the whole thing isnt' good)

Nothing’s as Easy as Riding a Bike When You Don’t Know How by r_n_g_are_dead - long fic (complete) (trent falls in looove)

closer to your request (i think)

richmond is for lovers by confessionofaking- series (complete)

[summary for the first fic in the two-fic series] “So you do laugh!” He heard himself shout. Trent blinked, and then he was standing. “But you don’t do it until page—,” he crossed the room and peered over Ted’s shoulder “forty-three? And it wasn’t even a big laugh! That was more of a loud nose breath,” he paused, trying to recall the proper word. “An exhale.” Ted put a halt to his nervous rambling in a matter of seconds. “Hey, Trent, look. I know folks are divided on the actual police these days, but all human beings are opposed to the laugh-police.” or, the 'laugh police' scene fix-it fic, except i made it worse.

notes: an eventual post-canon fix-it, as well as a fix-it for the "laugh police" scene. excellent fic, excellent author (HI CADE!!!! HI!!!!! ILY!!!!) i would also reccomend from him... well, any of his fics, but for a quick round-up of a few more sfw tedependent fics of his:

twist of fate

red light

i’ll catch you, darling

just can’t get enough (more nsfw in themes but very cute)

The Lasso Effect by earlybloomingparentheses - oneshot (complete; part two of a series)

Dating Ted Lasso is a wonderful thing. There are, however, certain downsides. For example, Trent no longer has control over when and where he smiles. He apparently cares about Roy Kent's opinion of him now. And he's been having the most ridiculous urge to tap dance. It's the Lasso Effect.

notes: there's several bits in this for trent's characterization that live in my brain rent free.

number four was always you by thefaceofno - long fic (complete)

Ted’s phone rings. He looks away from the window, where he was watching the tree sway in the wind, to see Beard’s face splashed over his phone screen. He thinks about not answering, but if he doesn’t answer then all he’ll have done today is run to CostCo for no reason. He doesn’t need eight pounds of almonds, but he has eight pounds of almonds. a.k.a. the post s3 fix-it where Ted does some intense mental healing.

notes: THE post-canon tedependent fix-it. excellent. please read it immediately.

constant as a northern star (constantly in the dark) by laiqualaurelote - medium sized fic (complete) (technically part of a series but this is standalone)

“I just met Ted Lasso,” Sachiko Crimm says bluntly when her ex-husband picks up. Trent is silent for a while. “And?” he says finally. Sachiko gives it five seconds, and then she bursts out laughing. “Stop it,” says Trent wearily.

notes: one of my favorite incarnations of trent's ex-wife ever. also always a sucker for pov outsider. also, excellent author, and you should absolutely read their post-apocalypse theater/shakespeare au. please.

nothing worth doing comes easy by pocky_slash - medium sized fic (incomplete)

First Ted Lasso is a joke, then Ted Lasso is a story, and then, suddenly--mortifyingly--Ted Lasso is something more. (Or: Trent doesn't want to be Ted's friend.)

notes: excellent, loving it, basically, to quote the author's note, "trent's deeply awkward gay spiral in the [s2] finale". however, word of warning: it is, tragically, unfinished.

Architecture With a Human Element by ItsClydeBitches - oneshot (complete)

“There has to be something,” Trent muttered, furiously scrolling through his feed. Each suggestion he found was debunked by the next post, with many parents swearing up and down that certain techniques made the whole thing worse. Trent stopped on a video of a mother taking scissors to her daughter’s curls and bit down on an actual sob building in the back of his throat. It was right before Trent let it fly that his mobile rang. Coach Ted Lasso (from America). Trent couldn’t say what possessed him to answer with his throat thick and his eyes prickling, but his traitorous hand had already swiped while his mouth said, “I have to shave my head.” Or: 5 times Ted got to touch Trent's hair and one time he returned the favor.

notes: losing my mind at the tenderness in this one. ough (positive)

time may change me by rockinhamburger - oneshot (complete) (part of a series)

Trent’s writing a book, so he’s in the room, generally, whilst [AFC Richmond’s magical season] fucking happens. These are the kinds of days when he curses single fatherhood. Trent debates whether he can just skip work for the day, but the West Ham match is a mere week away. Nothing else for it. “Mia, how would you like to come to work with me today?”

notes: very sweet, good series. this particular work is pre-relationship, but i love crimmlet so much, and their interactions with the team.

Independent by TheBasilRathbone - medium sized fic (complete)

Trent Crimm might only recently be an independent journalist, but he's had no one to rely on but himself for far, far longer. And most days, it feels like he's barely keeping it together. So it only seems fitting that the conclusion to the worst period of his life is for the whole thing to go up in literal flames.  Luckily for Trent, help comes from a (not so) unexpected source.

notes: one of my favorite tedependent fics, not gonna lie. just. wow

some all-time favorites!

a man arrives on thursday by clementines_and_colorful_things - medium sized fic (complete)

The capture of a friend prompts notorious outlaw Ted Lasso to take on the crooked leadership of Nelson Road, Kansas, with his motley crew of castoffs, cowboys, and criminals. When English-born historian Trent Crimm finds himself unwillingly swept into the fast-paced world of Lasso and his outlaws, he gradually begins to unravel the enigmatic Ted Lasso’s complicated ties to Nelson Road’s most prominent players. Tensions run high as Ted evades arrest and plots the downfall of those who have wronged him, and Trent worries that Ted will meet the same abrupt end that most outlaws do: with a length of rope and a rather short drop. — A Ted Lasso Wild West AU

notes: a very good cowboy au from a very good author. not close to canon by any means, being a cowboy au, but very, very good nonetheless.

read our constellations by ShowMeAHero - long fic (complete) (series)

[summary of the first fic in a four fic ongoing series]

And Trent’s not a mess! He’s not. He’s got his life entirely together. He chose to reveal his source and give up his position with The Independent. He chose to start chasing book authorship as his new branch of his career tree. He chose his flat, and his car, and his life, down to the brands of tea he buys and the sorts of people he spends time with and the sheet sets he puts on his and Beatrice’s beds. He’s an adult man, for Christ’s sake. Of course, he’s got his life together. Everything is under his control, and it’s all fine. It’s entirely, completely, fully fine. Taking one last steadying breath, Trent opens his eyes and looks over the line of seven tests on the counter: the first he took a few hours ago, and the six he just took since. Each and every last one of them says he’s pregnant. Some have plus signs, some have two lines, some simply have the word pregnant. All of them may as well come together to form a little sign reading, Congratulations, Trent! You did it! You’ve finally made a goddamn bloody mess out of everything! Just wait until you have to tell Ted! Trent’s stomach turns for more reasons than one.

notes: what is there to say??? one of my favorite fics from one of my favorite authors. it does somewhat follow along canon, with a pretty obvious deviation of their relationship and trent (a trans man) getting pregnant. but i truly cannot recommend their fics enough. another lightning round of their more sfw tedependent fics:

to seek solace (exploration of trent and past abuse that makes me wanna bawl (positive))

you'll never walk alone (HEARTWRENCHING soulmate au, happy endings all around, i adore it)

you know (i love you so)

darling, i love you

come what may

birdhouse in your soul

[5-7-9]

This panel is pretty funny 😂 just because of how wish fulfillment it is

Like, you wish this happened, huh?

I don’t like it when stories use their citizens as some kind of monolith hive mind, they just suddenly get inspired to do good or bad for no reason or the reason is too superficial. It bugs me, what can i say? 🤷

Interesting part to note is how they treated people taking up Joker's masks though.

Joker’s mask seems to be what gives these hooligans the freedom to cause mayhem. I’ve already said it before, but this comic treats Joker’s smile as insincere, something to hide, fake. As if being allowed to a secretive identity removes guilt over responsibility. Like when internet trolls can’t be tied to their face. This is expanded on through Alex Kayes the best. Although I don’t like her character’s existence, she highlights the part of Joker’s legacy that was perhaps misguidedly applied to Joker. Social media and public outcry.

Remember Logan Paul’s infamous apology video? James Charles? Etc. social media people? The comic even got the YouTube logo on it.

Red Flag is having a political podcast 🚩😙 sorry~ but if you’re anything like Andrew Tate, the alt-right pipeline is one you don’t want to stay in. Don’t believe everything you hear.

“It’s about sending a message” …was it hate speech? Jkjk. But this is exactly what Heath Ledger’s Joker’s mission in The Dark Knight Rises movie by Chris Nolan was like.

He was also described by Alfred as “Someone people just want to watch the world burn” with absolutely no reason to be evil, he just is evil 🙃 So there is some similarity to Punchline to this movie’s Joker.

Social media and the constant criticisms done by people reacting and adding their own stuff like idk tiktok i guess? Oh right, the comic said it, yeah. Idk any tiktok challenges like this one, so no video example 🤷

Joker War was also mentioned in other comics. I think it’s interesting how Bao Pham’s origins with Joker and Harley was, and his eventual rise to being Joker Hunter and protecting his city. Then i think he left eventually (idk). Huh.

More Punchline, this time from oftentimes copaganda and all times police commissioner Jim Gordon! More teenagers that support Punchline being bullies, what else is new. I totally forgot what I wanted to say, so I’ll just skip to the end of what I really wanted to comment on. Y’know I only recently learned about this so that’s why I’m talking about it but I think it was really awesome that Joker 2019 traveled all the way around the world because people were using his face masks in activism. That’s the positive side of having a brand, DC comics can go across countries and be recognizable. The more recognizable you are, the more people hear you. That’s what happened in the case with the Joker from the protests in Lebonon, Chile, Hong Kong, Bolivia, Colombia, Spain, Catalonia, and Ecuador (there may have been more but idk). (Warning! Talks of death and possible SA in this video!)

(I’d like to take a special time to acknowledge the Iraq Joker (mustafa makki kareem) since I found a rather in-depth interview video of his efforts). (This was 4 years ago, so I’m afraid the political landscape of Iraq has taken a turn… I hope he’s okay).

An interview with some Hong Kong protestors that wear masks to protect their identity. Interestingly enough, this video calls the mask similar to Batman :)

Also they mention reasons for hiding their identity, and methods!

There’s a few clips of Bolivia’s Joker too

Some faces of Lebonon Jokers (this video is edited with TDK Bane’s message but the original video isn’t allowed in my country?)

More edits of Chile Lebonon and Hong Kong (again, original video linked in description but unavailable to me)

In fact, that’s what happened to the Joker 2019 movie. Nowhere in the comics had Joker been depicted as he was in that movie, a victim of an oppressive system. That movie essentially took back a villain and made him this icon. That was the first time ever after Joker’s further evilization after “The Dark Knight Rises” and “Death In The Family” and “The Killing Joke” made Joker one of the evilest Batman characters (considering the ever so slightly sympathetic side to the rest of the rouges). Not to go off on it, but I think it really was a good thing for Joker. I think his criminalization crossed a line at some point, so in a way, this makes up for it.

Of course, even with all of this, it’d be unfair of me to not mention all the bad that did come from Joker. I will not discount that. And no- the 2012 Aurora shooter James Holms had orange dyed hair and is NOT inspired by Joker, he didn’t even know the movie was going on, fyi. • The Florida man Lawrence Sullivan who was arrested in 2017 for allegedly pointing a firearm at an officer. (I reached my 10 video limit 😭). • The recreation of Joker 2019 bus killing scene with suicidal 24-year-old Kyota Hattori in Tokyo train. • The “Gypsy Crusader” or Paul Nicholas Miller was a popular troll that liked to cosplay as Joker in the 2019 movie and comics Riddler while making jokes (i think he did offensive humor?) of the “radical” alt-right stance. (Ironically, the racists didn’t want a Roma descent racist on their side 💀). He was arrested for possession of an unregistered rifle and a lot of ammunition. He also lived in New Jersey…

• 2014 Jerad Miller from Las Vadas Nevada shot two police officers and one bystander dressed as the Joker with an accomplice. Essentially doing a murder-suicide when they then shot themselves. He posted videos to Youtube of his messages. (I think there was some mental illness going on? But idk) (there is also mentions of political stuff like angry at drug laws and the corrupted government and a swatsika?) (yeah idk, it was confusing).

Yes, the criminal turned devil turned sympathetic villain leads to multiple interpretations of Joker, who would’ve guessed? (sarcasm). Even London and Clermont mocked their presidents with the clown face. It’s not entirely black and white 🤷

Still, despite all the flaws in Joker 2019’s movie, all the good that came out of it… I feel as though it outweighed the bad. So, it’s not easy to hate it. Shout out to this video analysis essay that made me critically think about the Batman movies!

[archangeldyke-all]

Angelllll

I know you’re mainly a sevika stan and blog (and for good reason), but I wanna know how you feel about everything elsee from the trailerr. Caitlyn, Vi, Warwick, Jinx, THE WHOLE PACKAGE !!!

I feel so many hyped up feelings about it mannn and I TRULY TRULY cannot wait for fucking November OMGGG😫😫

(Also, which do you think is better as some on that excited for the next season of arcane ? — wait for the three weeks for all episodes to release when it does and binge it all at once; or follow the three episodes three act format that slows for both bingers and ppl that love to wait for episodes to come out? I love to binge so I wanna wait and watch it all at once, but I don’t think that’s a good idea as I’ll be so excited tho at I’ll burst and I’ll probably see spoilers on here or sth. So, as a fellow fan, what do you think is best ?)

OMGGG okay let me rewatch it rn and give u my notes hehe

cait's "i want to tear that laugh from her throat forever" LMAOOOOO this was so funny and unexpected coming from her character i mean it's badass and cool but that line in her posh little accent just kills me. but also imagine being vi and hearing ur girlfriend talking about ur sister like that LOL

my best guess for a timeline is that vi will join cait after the initial attack where she'll become an enforcer (meanwhile jinx and sevika will team up in the undercity), then she'll fight jinx the first time then she'll quit-- she can't handle the pressure-- she'll do her emo fighter thing (sevika will get her makeover and jinx will go into hiding-- she cuts her hair and dyes it purple to disguise herself??), and then after a timeskip when vi's hair is long it'll be the final fight of (i'm hoping??) zaun and piltover uniting against noxus (which is when we see sevika in a crowd looking at the sky?)

SPEAKING of noxus-- ambessa just looks so fucking powerful and cool in all her outfits. the hair disc crown she wears is SO cool, the weights on the end of her braids when she's in combat so that her braids act as little weapons too?!?!!? just incredible character design she's so intimidating and badass and her SWORD IS SO COOL

she's like silco: i'm not rooting for her, and i know that her character is The Bad Guy this season, but i just can't help but be excited every time she's on screen.

on a side note..... what are we thinking on the mel front?? mel. please be alive girl ur mom is out here going apeshit and starting wars, we need u baby. please be alive.

(but. then again. i could 100% see the reason ambessa wages this war in the first place is because she's lost her daughter.)

(i saw someone say season 1 was about fatherhood, what if season 2 is about motherhood with ambessa and mel and sevika and jinx being the 'mother/daughter' figures. such a good theory)

i audibly gasped when i saw that enforcer knocking out the firelight with the bird mask (idk if she has a name) but like DUDE that's a FIRELIGHT u better leave her OUT OF IT

SEVIKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SEVIKA SEVIKA SEVIKA SEVIKA SEVIKA SEVIKA SEVIKA SEVIKA SEVIKA SEVIKA

now that i'm looking closely, it looks like she's IN the scene where jinx is being touched by all the blue-haired followers she has. that just makes me SQUEAL, because sevika's really gonna do it!! she's gonna align with/tolerate/encourage jinx!!!!

SPEAKING OF WHO IS THAT BLUE HAIRED KID?!!?!? that's not powder, and i'm pretty sure it's sevika carrying them?! is that the kid who is standing by jinx in the background of sevika vs. smeech fight??!?!!?

i cannot fucking wait for sevika and jinx to interact more. god. i'm betting the only comic relief we'll be getting this season is heimerdinger being stupid, and sevika and jinx trying to get along.

DID JINX CUT HER HAIR!?!?!?!??!

JINX LOST A FINGER TOO

i'm obsessed with thieram in the streets fighting enforcers let's go king!!! asl;dhf;laskdjf

singed's "you've found it, haven't you?" was CHILLING. i'm really excited for the singed/vander/warwick storyline. i'm hoping to watch singed and viktor interact too, since viktor is back in the undercity.

(speaking of viktor-- i'm so curious as to why he and jayce haven't been shown yet. it could very well be that they're the main players in act 3 and are what start the big final fight with noxus... but idk.)

"the arcane is waking up" ominous lol

is that ekko pulling that chain?!!?!? with his hair pulled back and his facepaint off and wearing that beige outfit and an earring? i managed to pause on the singular frame they flashed and i'm pretty sure it's him.

his new look is SO SLEEK. OKAY EKKO!!!!!! finally getting an outfit change!!

they keep showing the arcane ('the arcane is waking up' lol) and i wonder if maybe viktor and the arcane have merged in some way. i remember in season 1 viktor said a bunch of sciency shit that was basically like-- the arcane is connected to me, i am connected to it, because he gave it his blood or something?? idk it's just so interesting to try to figure out what's happening there.

poor vi :( sad girl :( little tragic lesbian :( she just can't catch a fucking break can she?

SEVIKA VS. CAITLYN: WHO WOULD WIN AND WHY IS IT SEVIKA?!!?!?

i am so excited to watch that fight. i know the producers said everyone's gonna be an opposite of who they were in season 1, and my bet is that that means in this specific fight it'll be caitlyn vs. sev-- sevika's about to kill her when someone saves cait with a lucky shot (aka the explosion) just like she saved vi from sevika in season 1. who saves her tho? jinx on accident or vi on purpose? or is it just a coincidence?

caitlyn just looks so tired this season. gonna be sad that we don't have naive slightly awkward sweetheart caitlyn anymore.

the ekko and vi shot of them sharing a hoverboard... i'm sobbing.

idk what to say?? i'm so excited to see my wife. arcane isn't usually a show i'd be into (i only really watched for sevika in the first place lmaooo) but season 2 looks THRILLING so far. (but honestly if they kill off sevika i might just dip then and there lololol) (it's not that i don't like vi and cait and jinx and the rest of the characters, it's just that... i'm really only here for sevika hahaha)

i know that the character that's gonna piss me off the most will be caitlyn. i'm thinking that ambessa and cait's shared grief over their respective losses will make cait vulnerable to ambessa's influence. i'm guessing act 3 starts when caitlyn realizes what she has allowed to happen in letting ambessa start a war, and she finds vi and they reunite to save the city from noxus?? who knows. but i know i will be tearing my hair out watching cait kill herself for revenge she's never going to get.

(completely unrelated rant: this would be a caitlyn stan blog if she wasn't a fucking cop. i get that that's her whole character, but come ON. she wanted to help people and piss her parents off and turn her back on her wealth, i get it, she couldn't've become a fucking teacher or something!?!? sorry, the lesbian cop trope just pisses me off so fucking bad.)

if arcane doesn't give caitvi one good kiss (AT LEAST) they're gonna have a big fucking problem on their hands. i went into arcane season 1 thinking 'okay, i'll find out who this hot lady on my pinterest is, and i know there's lesbians in it so it's gotta be worth a watch' only for the lesbians to do NOTHING LESBIAN except yearn. i'm gonna need the homosexuality meter turned all the way up this season. fuck it, make all the characters gay. give jinx a girlfriend. give ekko a boyfriend. give us a sex scene between heimerdinger and singed, idc.

me personally, i'll be watching the episodes as they come out! i think it'll just be easier for me that way-- i won't have to avoid tumblr for half a month, and for me half the fun of watching a show is watching it as it airs out so me and all the little gay people in my phone can talk about it hehehehe

those are my main thoughts! so sorry they were all jumbled and random! feel free to write your conspiracies about the next season in my ask box, i love shit like that!!

[funeralpartyclown]

i have got to know your thoughts about the dynamic (sexual or non sexual) between dale and ruth. i know you mentioned wanting to write a full thing for them in the notes of your fic, but would you mind just sharing a few ramblings? there’s like noooo content for them lmao

Yes!! I do want to write something about them so bad,,

Sorry this turned into a HUUUUGE Yap fest but I love to talk about them

Non sexual- I feel like their dynamic would be genuinely comical I need to see that so bad. He’s so strange it would be hilarious seeing him do anything mundane, and I bet he’d be weird about everything he does. Milk before cereal type of guy.

Like I said in my fic too, she retired from a very consuming job and her only daughter has moved out and she seems to have no hobbies. She’s probably bored out of her mind and eventually would put up with his company (at times).

She doesn’t really have anyone else in her life and they have no other family, even if she did have friends it wouldn’t take long for it to be obvious there’s something different about her and they’d distance themselves over time.

When Lee moves out there’s no reason for him to confine himself to the basement, he’s coming upstairs to pester her for no reason like a child.

Just seeing him is a reminder she was forced to throw away her entire life and assist in several murders. It takes a long while for her to not recoil in disgust at the mere sight of him, but with his persistence and maybe a little dark influence she can stomach being around him.

Maybe if she caught him the right state, upset or under the influence he’d end up talking about his past.

To me I think there’s no way he got into this by choice. He loves the devil, he’s devoted to his work and willing to die for it but it just feels to me like under that he’s hollow and empty. I don’t think this is what he originally wanted for himself.

He had aspersions, he’s a talented musician and dollmaker. There are plenty of reasons characters in media turn to the fictional type of satanism, to be granted power, money, fame, Sell your soul to the devil and become a celebrity!

But he’s not. He didn’t even manage to continue making music once he got into this. He has no power, he’s a servant. He has no loved ones or friends. He’s alone, working tirelessly for decades. I feel like it would have began as, “this is my only choice no reason to dwell on the past I’ll just devote myself to my work” and the way pathological liars get caught in their own web of lies, he believes it and convinces himself on a fundamental level that this is what he wants and needs to do. I don’t know enough about to speculate about what it could have been but I think he was originally coerced into it in some way. And he and Ruth have that in common, she’d see him at least a little differently after that.

They’re the same. Shell of a person, condemned to the work. No escape, not even the cold clutch of death can free you. You are alone, you have no one and nothing save for eachother. No salvation and no one to understand the horrors you face. Lee can’t understand, she can’t know and she doesn’t until the end.

So overall, it would take a while for her to stand his company. Even once she does she still resents him openly for dragging her into it.

He just wears her down over time. Through my experience and that of people I know. I will say, even if you truly hate someone. When you’re forced to go through severe trauma together and have no one else to turn to it kind of tethers you. Their relationship would be horrific and toxic and disgusting. And I don’t think they could ever love eachother, it’s more of a mutual acceptance of their situation and occasional stress relief.

Living with him for so long I’m sure she’s witnessed a fair amount of him going off the rails, and considering their past she knows what he’s capable of and is probably afraid of him.

Buuuuuut fear and arousal go hand in hand. She’s still mildly disgusted with him and I think the first time would take a lot of convincing from him and probably some drinking.

He’s gross, she’s probably walked in oh him either doing something or just naked and knows that he’s,, well endowed. Which, I figure some people must not agree with that because he’s pathetic and that gives small dick vibes BUT! I argue.

He’s kind of huge just as a person so proportionally it would have to be at least decent. And I think it’s funnier to imagine that him having an absolute horse cock but being so,, dale,,, that nobody is touching him with a 10 foot pole.

I do that he has at least a little experience, but from a LOOOng time ago. I think I’ve said this several times already but under the surgery he’s nic cage who doesn’t want nic cage.. AND he was a musician..

They’re both touch starved and old, he’s into freaky shit, it’s getting weird fs.

Ruth is so gorgeous, (I don’t know if lees dad died or was never around? Was that ever hinted at and I missed it. I’m gonna go with he ditched them just because that’s what I’ve seen other people write.) and she was religious, so I’m saying she’s inexperienced too.

Maybe he’d even be the first one to go down on her,, I figure that would be the most common occurrence between them now that I think about it. He gets to have less power over her, (push him to the floor and make him stay there. Pull her dress or skirt over his head so she doesn’t have to look at him.)

she makes up an excuse afterwards to not return the favor and probably never does. It’s almost a death sentence with his size anyways.

She seems pretty skinny and frail I think he’d abuse that and move her around into whatever position he feels like. I feel like this post is getting really long now but I can think of so many things to add 😭😭😭😭.

At first he’s definitely on top, more of a “just get it over with already so I can get away from you” i think she’d hate being manhandled like that though he’s not getting away with it for long. She knows he’s desperate, and she’s not a sex obsessed pervert like him shed be fine holding out. So everything after that is on her terms, she’s yelling at him and smacking his hands away if he’s doing anything she doesn’t want. That would be therapeutic for her too, he probably enjoys the abuse and she gets to take out her anger with him.

[idontevenuse-thissite]

Scrolling through ao3 and seeing that there’s a whopping 47 works in the ДМО fandom with the pairing Anton/Olezha only realise that every single one is in russian.

I feel like Putty when Kratkij told him that the contest has literally just ended.

I mean I don’t know what I expected really. (I mean not all of them are in Russian, two of them are in Chinese, but that I understand even less of). Is it feasible to learn yet another language just to read fanfiction (and consume the source material with a better understanding I guess).

Whatever, let me talk about the real reason behind this post.

Anton and Olezha’s past relationship.

1. Olezha is gay. (And this is not just a ‘fandom does what fandom does to sate their hunger’.) There is subtext, there are legitimate clues, it’s subtle but it’s there. Maybe they’ll settle on an allegory to further skirt past the censors. But Olezha is such a closeted homosexual.

The fact that his connection to Anton is apparently a complete secret, even after his death.

They were close, that much is very obvious. The scene at the gravestone solidified it. The question is really why it was such a secret. While it has an obvious answer of ‘Anton is the diplomator and it is to help keep that secret identity’. But if that was all there was to it wouldn’t it be simpler to pretend to be friends. If someone saw them together, to have a backstory.

There’s also some interesting metaphors on how Olezha has found himself hiding other parts of himself. Wanting to be an actor but having disapproving parents. Being taught knitting but only because his grandmother was teaching his sister.

In his life he has always tried to be perfect. Maybe because he was hiding a part of himself that no matter what would not go away, and maybe if he never acted out of line nobody would ever suspect him. Maybe if they found out if he was lucky they would overlook it since everything else about him is perfect.

I think Anton and Olezha left off on a bad note as well. The Christmas comic seemed to imply that. Which makes it all the more tragic as Anton never gets the opportunity to make amends. The gravestone scene was already quite the poignant one, and it’s heartbreaking considering what happened in episode 5.

There is a lot to say about this show, I have more thoughts but that would make this post very long.

Ah, it’s such a great show I love it. It always has such an underlying melancholy even in it’s more light hearted scenes. Also the voice acting! Especially during the gravestone scene, (I’m going to have to make an entirely separate rant for that scene/episode alone)

I can’t wait for the next season. (Which I hope will also be released on youtube, as it will be a bit of a nightmare to get access to for people outside of Russia otherwise)

[the0maski]

I like that we all agree that Wind and Spirit Track Link (Spirit?) need to be separated as an lu headcanon. Since we haven’t actually seen any proof in lu canon that Wind mentioned something about trains or Malladus.

So my speculation was that 1. Wind hasn’t had his third adventure and, because of the location of ST, he has the quest after lu. The same way Wild will go through totk after lu.

Or 2. Jojo will never touch on anything about ST. Wich would be sad, but I have a theory on how it would actually work.

So Spirit Track takes place in New Hyrule, a kingdom found by Tetra and her crew and later reformed to be a new beginning for the once lost kingdom. By then the Triforce of courage had been fix by Wind, what meant the incarnation cycle has started again. Spirit was the next incarnation of the hero’s spirit.

Now going back to lu lore. Later in the timeline thanks to the War of Ages, time is broken and the timeline come together, creating one single timeline (ignoring aoc but that isn’t lu canon as far as I know).

With the timelines now as one. There are Ritos and Zoras (Yona gave me massive downfall river zora vibes). Saltstones(?) which were used as evidence that Hyrule had been underwater. The mention of some hero’s from the past, etc…,

Now to the part why I think ST could had have happen in lu lore, yet doesn’t affect Wind nor Spirit if he is an stand alone link in comic.

Three timelines would mean three Hyrules become on, and that is true but one isn’t actually a kingdom anymore. My Theory is that when all the branches united the strongest Kingdom stayed, while the oder faded into it and can only be noted subtle. Causing Déjà-vu’s and the feeling of familiarity but not being able to explain why, to all the people.

Wind’s Hyrule doesn’t exist anymore, so nothing is taken from there. But New Hyrule exist! And this is the interesting part.

New Hyrule isn’t where the old Hyrule was. It’s probably somewhere else entirely! It’s also important to know that the people from New Hyrule (Nyrule?) don’t take a lot from the old believe of the hylians, but rather found themselves starting from zero. Rather than the goddess, they worship spirits. It’s not Demise/Ganondorf but Malladus in the legend.

So I theorize that somewhere there is an other kingdom with a royal bloodline from the goddess Hylia and an incarnation of the hero. But there both have different cultures, legends and maybe enemies. While Hyrule has Zelda, Link and Ganon/Ganondorf, Nyrule has Zelda, Link and Malladus or someone being controlled by him as the never ending cycle.

The quest in lu has all the Hero’s of Hyrule come together, Spirit not belonging to that Land of Hyrule may be the reason he will not join and why ST isn’t taking any importance at all. But that’s just my theory on how to take ST into account without rewriting the story of the game, but also why Jojo hasn’t made any reference to it. And also to expend more countries beside Holodrum, Labrinna and Hytopia.

Sorry if it is complicated to understand, I am really bad at giving my brain a voice…