#in that i fucking hate it and think it makes the viewing experience worse for folks with no context for irish so like??partial understanding

[iamfuckingsorry]

"Do you know where we are going next?" I asked ART.

Y'know what, I think maybe I don't need any more Murderbot books. I think maybe ending things here is fucking perfect and as much as I love Wells's writing I'm genuinely not sure it can get better for me.

Like, so much of the books are about MB learning how to be a person, about becoming okay with being a complete individual with everything it entails. The first thing it does once it's actually allowed to decide on its own is it runs away from it all (admittedly to go on a mission to confirm some things about its past, because it genuinely just wants to be *good*). It shoves all its emotions away as much as it's able to. Then shit happens, and it makes its first friends, makes decisions based on these friendships, goes through a lot of emotionally intense situations...

And we get to this point here. MB having zero doubts about going with ART says a lot about its relationship with ART, but it also says a lot about its relationship with its humans - it knows that wherever it goes, when it comes back, the humans will still be there. Its humans actively acknowledge its struggles with being a now-free SecUnit and MB is willing to entertain the discussions to an extent and share information about its deeply personal experiences. Hell, System Collapse ends with MB admitting it might be somewhat broken, but that's okay as long as it can keep doing its job, and agreeing to basically do counselling - this is the guy what would rewatch its favourite TV show again and again in order to avoid acknowledging it even had Emotions a couple books back.

Reading this, I know that MB will be okay. It has hopes and goals and genuinely believes in itself and it has an amazing support system that its willing to lean on for the first time in its life. I'm convinced it'll go on to do great things with ART. And that's really the only thing I need to know.

[wildevenusian]

treating myself to seeing kneecap (with captions!) again

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Due to my obsession with the devils from abbadon (Phenix is underrated). I DEMAND (kindly ask) you to hand over all your headcannons about them.

Since you're asking so politely, I shall give it to you

Abaddon headcanon (Tw: Abaddon)

Since Abaddon is THE sex dangeon of all of Hell, and you can see public sex everywhere, I think that the people in Abaddon don't have the concept of consent. Everyone already wants to fuck and doing it in public with strangers is just the norm, so if any Abaddon nobles got a boner they'll just get undressed and fuck you right then and there

If we want to get really dark, we could even say that cries for "stop" and "no" are just taken as dirty talk. You can't tell me someone in Abaddon isn't into cnc.

Asmodeus likes seing his subjects fuck so he invites his nobles over and uses his powers to get them to rail eachother for his entertainment. Who needs porn when you can just make two of your people fuck for you?

Weirdly enough, Abaddon demons are actually very interested in romance. Their king was the only one that had a wife and kids, so they can do more than just fuck

Even someone like Phenix can be quite romantic when Asmodeus is asleep or something.

When Paradise Lost first became the ER of hell, it was filled with Abaddon demons because a) they're neighbouring countries b) they try very dangerous stuff for sexual pleasure and it usually fails

Abaddon was the first to lose healthcare priveledges and that's why Asmodeus and Lucifer don't talk with eachother.

Now they only have Marbas as the countries doctor

Marbas used to be just a normal demon before he was assigned to Abaddon. Since he was exposed to more of Asmodeus' charm, he started acting more violent and horny, so Lucifer had to tie him up

Asmodeus' charm is kind of like nuclear energy, where, the longer you're exposed to it the worse the symptoms get. And then you end up like Phenix.

The noble with the most one night stands to his name is Ronové. You can randomly ask a devil what their experience with Ronové was like and they'll have a story about it

Asmodeus used to take Ronové to meetings with him as an assistent, but he kept talking about how beautiful amputated feet are so Asmodeus gags him now.

Masturbating is a form of prayer towards Asmodeus.

Asmodeus is autistic and his special interest is sex. He's also a strong believer in learning by doing

Phenix was Asmodeus' caretaker when Asmo was little and that's why he's the most affected by his charms.

Asmodeus is the only demon in Abaddon that you can have a conversation with that doesn't involve sex. He'll still flirt tho

Abaddon demons can heal by having sex, which is how Dantalian got his kink

He got really badly wounded and was about to die before Phenix fucked him and his wounds closed off enough that he could walk himself to Paradise Lost

In that sense, Abaddon demons are healers but only to other Abaddon demons

Abaddon is the top honey moon destination in Hell.

The country they're closest to is Avisos because they have similar views on sex.

Asmodeus is the only demon king that can go to the human world at will without any complications. Even Satan gets shit for leaving for half an hour, but Asmodeus could be gone for days and nobody would complain.

He's closest with Belphegor but only by proxy. They're not friends, but they don't hate eachother so that's a plus in his book

None of the other kings really like him because when Asmodeus wants something, he would do anything to get it. And I trully mean anything. Nobody trusts this charming little back stabber.

Asmodeus has a statue of his former lover in the royal garden. If anyone tried to touch it he would brake all the bones in their body. He sometimes just stares at it and laments her death

He wouldn't even let the decendent of Solomon touch it. That's his wife and you can go find another.

He still has the makeshift wedding ring on his finger and he plays with it when he's bored. When Dantalian was little he stole it to try and get in danger with Asmodeus, but he almost shat his pants when he saw the absolutely terrifing glare Asmo had on.

When there's no battles to be had, Phenix goes to Asmodeus's chambers and humps his leg like a bitch in heat. Asmo sometimes picks him up on his lap and jerks him off while he works.

He'd be on a phone call like "Don't worry about the screams, my dog's in heat."

All electronics in Abaddon are waterproof... or more specificly, cum proof.

Ok wow, fuck this was longer than expected and I still have some. Abaddon is my second favorite country and we'll see if it because the first by Christmas.

[velvetgutz]

Mine and Yours… (Pt. 1)

Leon Kennedy x M!reader

Summary: In what was probably the worse situation of your life, drunk and depressed at a bar with people you hate, a stranger at the bar lends you a hand…

Ao3 Link (More parts to come!)

When I pictured going to college for the first time, I thought It would be paradise compared to the pitiful high school experience I had. Never in a million years did I imagine I would be cramped in a shitty, 3 bedroom apartment with assholes from my high school,who judged me constantly for no real reason.

An ex-crush of mine, his girlfriend, and her best friend. All the same people who berated and humiliated me until graduation… But that’s not important.

I’ve always kept to myself, stayed as far away as I could, and minded my own business within the confines of our tiny apartment, not really ever interacting with them, or wanting to. So when they suddenly invited me to go out with them one night for drinks, dread pooled in my stomach. Even using the most absurd excuses couldn’t shake them from dragging me to whatever local bar they were planning to go to. Before I could protest any further, I was shoved into the back someones car, and on the way to the bar.

~

Screeching tires brought me out of an absent minded daze. I guess we’re here. The bar logo flickered every so often, neon lights disappearing in intervals. The place was fairly busy, a couple cars parked here and there. Stepping out into the crisp fall air, I exhaled deeply as a last ditch effort to rid myself of anxiety.

Generic Tiktok trend garbage floods my ears, and a familiar stench of alcohol sets me a bit at ease. My roommates gather at an already occupied booth. oh fucking great. An audible sigh falls from my lips. The occupants are friends of my roommates, all the more reason to be nervous.

Sitting at that table is not an option.

I begrudgingly walk over to the counter, picking the farthest seat possible. Not paying close attention, I ended up in the second-last seat, empty bar stool to my left and an occupied to my right. Waving over the bartender, my order was placed and shortly 2 shots sat in front of me. The more wasted I get the better I’ll feel. A intricate mixed drink was added to the palate for tonight.

From my peripheral view, the figure to my right stole a quick glance at my drinks and then to me, a look you’d miss if you blinked. Fuck, tonight’s gonna be hard…

~

My whole body burned from the alcohol in me. Even after drinking until I was almost too drunk to stand, the bicker and insults from my roommates couldn’t be blocked out. Could they just fuck off. If it wasn’t already obvious, the slurs thrown my way surely gave away there was a gay guy sat in the bar. The embarrassment enveloping me weighed down my body, almost resting my head on the counter as I swirled around another random cocktail in it’s glass.

Downing the last drops of my drink, I attempted to order another before a hand pushed mine flat to the counter.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for tonight, kid?” A rough, deep voice sounded in my ears. Ever so slightly turning my gaze to my right, my eyes focused on the man next to me. A dirty-blonde, mature looking guy. His hand moved from mine.

“Drinking doesn’t make it feel any better, go home.” He talked sternly. Who’s this guy think he is… My displeasure must’ve been written on my face, he let out a small sigh. “What’s the big deal with them anyways?” He tilted his head in the direction of the table behind us.

“My roommates,” I was slurring my words, the liquor was really hitting me. “thought it would be funny to take me out and announce to the whole world what a ‘disgusting faggot’ I am…” Fuck I sound pathetic. My voice came out low and raspy, alongside the slurring. A scoff sounded from the man as he downed the last of his drink. Slowly he stood up and stretched, reaching for my shoulder with a small tug.

“I’m calling you a cab, c’mon” There was that same tone of voice from before. I wanted to refuse and continue drowning myself in booze, but in the state I was in, refusal was impossible.

“I don’t want to go home…” It came out quiet, almost whining. Now half sat up, I was looking him in his eyes, pouting. He pulled me up from my seat the rest of the way and began to drag me out of the bar, laying a few big bills on the counter before our exit.

“I never said you had to go home.” I would’ve missed what he said if not for the sudden change of scenery. Outside the bar was cold, quiet. So quiet. Letting go of my hand, he grabbed a cellphone from his pocket and began calling someone. My whole body buzzed from how quickly I was brought upright and outdoors. Slowly swaying side to side, feeling the wind brush past me. Turning to the man, I watched him pull out a cigarette and bring it to his lips. A cloud of smoke bloomed shortly after as we stood on the sidewalk outside the bar.

“… cab will be here soon.” I was too focused on the way he looked in the streetlights to fully hear what he said. He was glowing, his features accentuated by the dramatic light shining down on us. “You there kid?” His fingers snapped in my face.

“Yeah, sorry…” Fighting myself not to gawk at him again became a challenge. “Where are you bringing me?” He glanced up the road, blinding headlights coming into sight.

“You can take my couch until you’re coherent,” he tossed the last of his cigarette to the ground, putting out the embers with his boot, “then you can go home in the morning.” The cab was here now, screeching to a halt. Grabbing my shoulder again, he guided me to the back of the vehicle, opening the door and motioning me in. Climbing in was hard, I was disoriented from everything I drank. He quickly joined me in the backseats, murmuring an address to the driver and slouching back into the seat next to me. What the fuck is my life… I relaxed as the cab began its route, my vision getting darker by the minute. As I swayed with the rhythm of the car, sleep took over…

[low-budget-korra]

Let's talk about Caitlyn Kiramman from Arcane (again)

Tons to talk about her so, here we go

1. Is she privileged? Yes. Is she a bad person because of it? No.

In fact, from the beginning, Caitlyn always wanted to do what's right and that's the reason she became an enforcer(in her life experience until then, as Piltie, the enforcers were there to keep the peace and help the city and it's people). She wanted to help people and was one of the few Top Siders who viewed Zaun people as people and not monsters or trash.

2. Did she get blind by revenge and make some bad stuff? Yes.

But let's be fr, if my mom was murdered like that and by the same people I tried to help, I would do the same or even worse and probably so are you Caitlyn haters. And that's okay, we are emotional beings and rage truly is something that blinds people.

Not to be that person but half of Caitlyn's hate posts just scream "i never lost someone important in my life and I don't know how grief works" Cuz unfortunately I did and even tho it wasn't nowhere near the violent way Cassandra died, I still had to struggle with the anger phase. And I say this bc people act Caitlyn was just pulling a tantrum, overacting or smt

Sure, her pain ain't bigger than Jinx's or Vi's, but it's still hurts and the only true difference is that Cassandra had the privilege of an honorable funeral, while Felicia and many others from Zaun, didn't have. But don't be here all condescendingly try to disqualify Caitlyn pain just bc she is rich

Anyway, she was so blind by revenge that she released the toxic gas on Zaun, and it is said and shown that she only used to clean the streets before search operations and against the baroons. Still fucked up bc there's no way innocents weren't harmed but still, it ain't like she release the gas on everyone just for funzies as some people comments

Ambessa played her cards pretty well bc it's easier to do something like that if you dehumanize your enemy. And those Zaun thugs were dumb enough to fall for the Ambessa trap in the ceremony and the whole Zaun suffered because of that.

And if we can learn something from this is not to be too quick to violence bc you may be played and in the end, you and your people will suffer with the oppressors now ""justified"" actions. Yes, violence can help but we need to know how and when to use it.

3. Caitlyn is possibly the most complex and misunderstood character from season 2. Mostly bc even tho we had lots of micro expressions and subtext that explain her actions, there were things that maybe needed to be said. This would save the character from being so misunderstood

Like a scene with her saying something like "Vi...I'm sorry if I hurt you" and then Vi would respond like "if?" and then silence after. Could even be in that scene in act3 when Vi just wakes up from the coma. Idk, I know it sounds dumb but again, it would save the character from being misunderstood and hated over them

"But Caitlyn changing sides was too plot convenient and came outta nowhere". No? Lmao in fact you can see in her face how she regrets hitting on Vi and how she kinda of doesn't want to be there when Ambessa is making the speech in the end of act1

But then again, Ambessa plays her cards and calls out Caitlyn into a position where she simply can't say no. Remember that they were already thinking that someone from the Top may have helped the attack and Caitlyn was seen hanging around with a Zaun criminal and sister of the terrorist, if she refused what Ambessa was offering, people would assume she is a traitor and that could mean death to her.

Months go by and when we see act2 Caitlyn she is already more calm, her initial rage and wishes of vengeance kinda of ran out, and she is already realizing all the shit she did and disagreeing with Ambessa's ideas. In simple terms: She just wanted a way out.

Oh and let's not forget how Caitlyn was alone during all that. Her father was also grieving, Jace was gone, Mel was gone, Vi was gone...she was all alone and emotionally vulnerable, which makes it so much easier for Ambessa to manipulate her

So when she reunited with Vi and Vi called her Cupcake, it's like "wait, you not hate me after what I did to you?" moment , it was when she realized she wasn't alone anymore. And after hearing that Vi was helping her father, Caitlyn immediately wanted to help - maybe as a way of saying sorry, to redeem herself from the bad shit she did during those 6 months.

And when she got to see Jinx happily and chill, just hugging her dad...it was the moment she remembered Jinx wasn't a monster, that little moment is when she starts humanize Jinx and we can see in her eyes.

"then why did she arrest Jinx" Because Jinx surrendered and she had no choice, Jinx didn't kill just her mom. But she waits for Vi to wake up, to decide what to do and I bet while this happened, people were pressuring her to execute Jinx already or something.

That conversation she had with Jinx kind of seal the deal. Probably the first proper conversation they had and seeing Jinx so weak and vulnerable...it totally makes her destroy the image she previously had of her. There's no way back, she didn't forgive Jinx and I don't think she ever will, but she stopped hating her. Which is a start.

And knowing Vi would never allow Jinx to stay in jail, Caitlyn just say "fuck it" and let Vi release her sister. This was an act of love, especially bc Cait knew Vi could just run away with Jinx and she may never see her again.

"the CaitVi sex scene was unnecessary" I didn't see any of these when it was Jayce and Mel tho 🤷

It is both sad and funny how a huge part of the Caitlyn haters also loved and forgave Silco. This just proves that if a woman will be judged harder, a lesbian will be judged 2x more harder cuz the amount of lesbophobic comments I've seen...

[blacklegsanjiii]

i absolutely adore your young sanji au!! If you don't mind, could you write more about him? Like, how did the other crews that know him react to his actual age? Or even some random interactions between the straw hats after finding out!

I'M TRYING TO BE ALIVE AGAIN I PROMISE I AM SO SORRY

Young!Sanji!!! Ahh, lovely boy, precious and soft and absolutely hating everyone find out how old he actually is. He feels no one takes him seriously after they find out. They always falter and stumble and it just...doesn't feel good to him?

I feel like Law finding out would full on make him trip and face plant into the ground because Robin probably mentions it off handedly but knowingly. She knows Sanji doesn't like Law calling him Stealth Black and this seems to be the quickest way for her to stop it. Sanji is walking ahead of them to a tea house somewhere while they're in Wano. Like she specifically phrases it in a way to show how cruel Judge is and when Law full stumbles it makes Sanji look and ask what's wrong. Law is stumbling up onto his feet and is confused and asks Sanji if he's really /seventeen/ and Sanji says he is with a shrug. Law knows he's not the youngest on the crew but understands because of his love of the Sora comics that they were closer to the truth than he had realized, even after the raid suit. Germa was far worse than he knew to even its own children. When they're sat and drinking tea, Law can't help but ask why he is physically not seventeen. Sanji just goes 'ahaha, that's Germa for you' and Law is reeling that the cook is also a child on the crew. Law doesn't really change how he acts with the cook though, he doesn't see his age, only his accomplishments which are numerable even if he was twenty one, he just admires the guy more now.

Sanji is not pleased at how people keep trying to baby him after finding out how old he is and how his family is, the rescue team is especially bad. Chopper keeps asking for more and more check ups on him and Sanji is trying to just deal with it, Zoro seems to be holding back during their spars when he doesn't have to be, when they're out at a bar he keeps stealing Sanji's drinks even though he's not even buzzed yet and Zoro hates wine. Zoro, for the life of him he doesn't want to view the cook differently, but finding out about the experiments and how young Sanji was when he went through everything that led him to Zeff makes him softer. He fucking hates it but he feels like he needs to give the cook an actual chance at being a child that was denied to him. Even if he didn't get a chance he and the other kids at the dojo did play as well as train, especially when they were younger, before he left and he plays with Luffy and Chopper all the time. So when he assists Robin and Nami with the cook and making the guy take breaks. He's started doing the dishes fully on his own and shoving the cook out of the kitchen after meals.

I feel like when Zeff found out his kid wasn't ten, his kid is six and looks ten. Zeff frowns deeply at the boy who acts like a ten year old in a lot of ways, most ways, a fucked up and traumatized one albeit, but he's still ten. Except he's not and Sanji's age really shows when people flirt or try to take him to their ships for activities more fitting for an adult or teenager. Except he's not one of those, he's twelve when someone first propositions him and Zeff loses it at the customer and talks to Sanji about what they're doing, what people want from him and that he gets to decide if he wants to or not. Because Sanji is physically four years older than he actually is and Zeff wants to kill the fucking bastard that did this to the kid. Zeff knows his kid is younger than he looks but he treats the boy like how he holds himself, he's smart, impulsive, thinks he owes his life to Zeff when he doesn't. Goddammit Zeff wants him to act like a damn kid but the kid doesn't want to! Kid feels like he can't because the kid needs to be useful so on the rare nights the Baratie is closed Zeff and the others will take the kid out to the upper deck or the top of the restaurant and teach him the constellations and if the kid falls asleep it's all the better.

The kid will never act his real age, but he has people to make sure he's taken care of. That's more than enough for Sanji.

[tossawary]

This is going to come up in "Some Unknown Corner", but I don't know how explicitly it'll come up, like, terminology-wise, so... saying it more explicitly here if you want to try and look out for this detail in coming chapters. Minor spoilers for a character issue that will become a later plot point.

I'm going to try to explore Yue Qingyuan having claustrophobia, specifically a fear of being shut in underground spaces in particular. This man has wild amounts of willpower and will generally refuse to be vulnerable, so he does NOT let on to this fact in obvious ways, even when forced to be underground temporarily, but he HATES the experience. On the edge of a panic attack, feeling like he's dying, still smiling pleasantly somehow.

Yue Qi goes back into the Ling Xi Caves with Shen Jiu as disciples in one of the Qijiu extras. In this case, I think he was a little fearful (not irrationally, honestly) of something bad happening to Shen Jiu, so he forced himself to be there despite the fact that he hated being there the entire time. (My general headcanon is that Yue Qi genuinely doesn't remember huge chunks of his confinement due to the trauma of it all.) By the time he's the sect leader, over ten years later, he's calmed down enough to let Shen Yuan go in there alone to cultivate. (Maybe Shen Qingqiu threw him out another time later down the line as disciples.)

In SVSSS, Yue Qingyuan goes into the Ling Xi Caves again, I believe, in order to get stronger and potentially get Shen Qingqiu's body back from Luo Binghe. When Luo Binghe invades Cang Qiong, Yue Qingyuan has apparently hastily had to exit seclusion at a delicate time. Was he trying to heal the Xuan Su sword issue as much as possible? Are visits to the Ling Xi Caves a regular medical treatment for him? Why didn't he go into the Ling Xi Caves to get stronger / potentially heal his broken relationship with his sword any earlier? I'm imagining Yue Qingyuan honestly having to force himself to go cultivate alone through a fairly serious phobia, and Mu Qingfang being generally against it, because it seems more like Yue Qingyuan might accidentally work himself up into a terrified, traumatized episode of some kind and die due to another qi deviation.

Being at Mai Gu Ridge sucked for many reasons. It sucked for everyone, really.

Yes, Yue Qi having claustrophobia does make his being blinded in "Some Unknown Corner" worse. (He's holding steady (barely) based on being able hear other people around him + smells + Shen Jiu's touch.) He's really not having a fun time! He's a practical guy and he really doesn't like panicking, so he is SHOVING IT OUT OF MIND, which is not great. I already view Yue Qi as disabled in SVSSS canon due to the Xuan Su sword issue, and the story keeps putting him in positions (sect leader) where he cannot "afford" to be disabled (he has to try to save everyone else), and it is continuously fucking him up. He needs some real rest so, SO badly.

[mrmeepsmadmind]

Please i would love to hear all of the headcannons on Soundblaster i beg we need more of this silly guy

PUTTING U IN MY POCKET AND CHERISHING U FOREVER FOR ASKING ME THIS. i LOOOVEEE YAPPPP!!!!!!!

MY SOUNDBLASTER HEADCANONS / GEN THOUGHTS AND STUFF !!!!!! Warning for dark, mature topics like g*re mention / h*micide ‼️‼️. Not rlly explored but mentioned. No s*xual stuff tho. Still tho, disclaimer, he's an awful cold mech ... who tortures u and twerks to stuck in the middle with you while doing it

best way i can describe how i view Soundblaster is an orca born & raised at SeaWorId who ended up accidentally kiIIing a trainer while playing as a baby and was then separated from his mother, pod, home, everything he once knew.. & luckily released as untrainable into the wild,

but he wishes he was kiIIed instead

he yearns for family, deep down, but can't. have one .

he views his old family as weak & miserable, stuck behind glass to perform for others until they die, & he hates them for not at least trying to fight for him when they took him away. The fact that they couldn't do anything but didn't at least Try just to Attempt . . makes it even worse.

at least he is free to swim the entire ocean as his exercise. But his past follows him everywhere. he is excluded from pods for his nature being even too unorthodox for them, his fin forever drooped. other animals naturally fear him. & he misses his mom ( soundwave ), even though he hates her. He hates her because he misses her .

In my headcanon, SB was made to be a bot with No sentimental attachments, specifically to cassettes, created by Shockwave at the order of megatron. He was made with the purpose of being a bot who could send soldiers off to die without a blink. He was made to be ruthless for the decepticon cause, no one else.

Soundwave Hates SB. The mere idea of SB implies there to be a flaw within Soundwave that caused Shockwave, a mech whose intelligence is renowned, to decide such a severe action as cloning was necessary to fix that. Out of the big three decepticons, soundwave is the bot who deals with empathy the most, although that bar is VERYYYY low considering his comparisons are shockwave and starscream (who is a much better contender than shock in the empathy battle, but star is more involved with his self than outward empathy for others at this point in the war ). Soundwave deals with mentality and communication. Despite his monotone, he does feel. He tunes it out for the cause but thats because he values the cause over the value of others' thoughts, he has to, that's his Job. But tuning out his cassettes' thoughts .... it's. That's when it gets difficult. Soundwave values shockwave for his contributions for the cause with his intellectual gifts and curses. Shockwave making Soundblaster is like if your husband made The Perfect Robot Wife right in front of you and expected you to be perfectly fine with it because thats how you've HAD to be your whole life. If it's better for the cause, than it's better for everyone and everything, ultimately. So just do what you're Assigned to do, soundwave, and simply tune it Out.

SB didn't hate soundwave at the beginning.

i think the whole FAILED clone experiment should be more explored in SB. not just as a 'lol look at sb! Soundwave would NEVER do that! That's so funny!!' like that's cute of course but.. we can also go even further to 'oh my Primus. Soundwave would Never go as FAR to do this . 'and soundblaster just grins with his visor and says ' that's why i'm the Upgrade . ' he's the opposite in some extensions, but similar in some, and that's what makes others so wary, and it's not just from similar appearances, bcs i think that's something soundblaster can try to do something about and has

I think of Soundblaster as WaveWave's fucked up child who fucking hates them, can't stop being compared to them, and can't stop missing them no matter how hard he tries. He's discarded and pretends like he doesn't care, but he's so. Empty. No matter how things he forces into his new cassettes, hobbies he switches to, careers, accents, teams, bodies and parts he keeps in his tapedeck, he's just. Empty in the end.

He's programmed to be ultimately unfeeling. Everything he builds is necessary for his own entertainment, and everything he burns down is necessary for his apathetic functioning, while still desperately trying to wring out at least SOME joy out of it, but always ultimately being unable thanks to shockwave.

SB is intelligent, not to shockwave's capabilities, but he tries. He has shockwave's ability to push and abuse boundaries for the sake of expanding his interest in knowledge, and he has soundwave's observations. He collects information and then He capitalizes on it. HE capitalizes. HE is the cause here, though, not decepticons or autobots, shanix, not even to rule something because it might Seem fun at first .. but then that nagging restlessness tugs him again and he needs to make another cruel move simply for the sake of Moving, of thinking he Can feel. If others, populations, companies, markets, etc, just so happen to be lucky enough to momentarily benefit off that or unlucky enough to be tortured from it, then so be it. He doesn't care. And he's not even saying that to seem stronger to everyone because he Doesn't care (look out for, wonder, worry, valuing feelings, etc. He doesn't view anyone as anything but slight distractions to keep his processor jumping instead of just running) for Anyone, No matter how hard he tries, he always ends up abandoning everyone in the end because abandonment is all he knows. Shockwave and soundwave differ only bcs they tie with his creation. Shockwave is akin to Primus to him, only because SB doesn't care for Primus, but he Does find himself pondering Shockwave, HIS creator because Shockwave made HIM, ties to HIM, tethered to HIM. soundwave is similar. SB hates that, he hates being tethered to anything or anybot. It's just not his programming. He needs distractions so he doesn't have to think about his programming being permanent for at least a few seconds, but it always reminds him it's Never leaving in the end, and part of him doesn't want it to because if he doesn't feel nothing then he'll feel Scared, and he can't tell which is worse

Personal attributes

His voice is booming, dominating, and emphatic because he's learned how to mimic the right inflections, personality, pathology, etc to act alive just so he can remind you he's not in the end because it'll make the pain hit harder for you, & that's Much more Fun in his eyes. He can mimic accents fluently, and sometimes just changes them rapid fire for some shake up. He'll go from a cowboy to Italian in a split for no rhyme or reason, he simply Wanted to. When he Speaks, you Listen.

He views jobs as the same throwaway thing, as he views everything. He goes from a mercenary with a band of bots who admire him for his confident callousness until he burns it all to the ground to explore a new avenue, while success sometimes happens to follow bcs people can't help but worship how indifferently strong he is. Mercenary, pirate, black market, thief, torturer, executioner, decepticon brief ally, autobot brief ally, energon disperser, he wants to do it all because he needs to because it's Different and he Needs differences, not to be quirky for others, but to fool himself into thinking that just for one moment.. he could change

But he never does ! He's stuck in a programmed cycle of apathy and he's dragging others down with him to distract him from the constant spiral

Like how skybound soundwave loves sealife and whales, SB loves dolphins. He loved orcas for their color scheme, but then he researched and further fell in love, trying to model himself into something separate from soundwave without even knowing he's still stuck being eerily similar but still eerily different, not enough to be lovingly regaled the same, nor stand out as a bot truly Different and his own.

Orcas and soundblaster are very similar in many ways. Orcas can even mimic humans.

Soundblaster has STRONG mental abilities. Hypnosis is his favorite. Unlike soundwave, he doesn't care who he hurts with it, he revels in it. Until he's bored. Soundblaster loves to lure unsuspecting bots of all factions by using others' voices and their thoughts to fool everyone, like a siren, but unlike a siren, he's not trying to feed on drunken sailors for survival, he just felt like playing that day . He loves displaying graphic images on his visor or any screen, whether that be a victim's loved one dying from footage he's saved of him torturing them, or just showing them some of his favorite g*re footage because he felt like sharing that day, he just thinks it'll be a neat trick for him to do. His screens often display disturbing, uncomfortable images, with horrifying sounds to match as well

However, SB has weaker sound abilities than soundwave, either from improper training, care, or maybe even an inability to fully replicate what the original can do. His speakers are distorted and sometimes slowed or skipping. Dancing queen slowed reverb YouTube song lol. Happy music is usually not as affected by his radio quality, aside from the occasional audial splitting sparks, so he likes listening to that while torturing.

Back to the sound, his soundwave are weaker. At close distances they're stronger, but far away they echo out and surround instead of always focusing. To help him out, he has an orca-like tail that can extend from his spinal strut to help direct the waves better. But hypnosis is just so much more fun.

SB loves earth, he thinks there's just so many opportunities to have some joy before getting bored! Mimicking a mother calling for her child to lure it away for dissection. Mimicking a baby crying for its mother. Mimicking a puppy and displaying footage of a poor puppy trapped in his car with the windows up and the heat outside is excruciating so a good Samaritan can try breaking the window only to be pulled right in. So much fun!!! Sometimes, he'll even steal a singer's skin and pretend to be them so his hypnosis can easily reach bigger crowds with less effort on his part. Think the movie smile with how he invades them and their effects.

I like to think his human skin disguise's fc looks like st chroma. Just for fun.

Soundwave being able to turn others into his new cassettes is something soundblaster loves to do, and most of the time he forgets he even did it. He loves melding machine and man. He has a dog mech instead of a cat mech, with a human face melted on it. A mix of human teeth and fangs. It used to be a - eh, he doesn't remember. Maybe it was a little girl, at one point. He thinks he got the inspiration from an anime he watched. He likes anime.

His tapedeck is fucking abhorrent. He keeps his skinsuits in there. His cassettes strain and shake, but he always hypnotizes them obedient .

He has a mouth, but the mask doesn't cover directly on it. The mouth is where his chin would be, and from a direct angle, can't be seen until he tilts his helm high up and can even snap it back so the face is dangling on the other side. The mouth has various teeth of various kinds (human, monster, mech, alien, etc) inside, and eyes are everywhere, blinking gums, bloodshot cavern, even on the teeth themselves, since his helm is snapped so far behind him. They don't blink, which is why the tongue is so long, helping to coat them with moisture

Unknown if he has an actual face behind his mask or not.

I think he should have a mini friendship / pls don't kill me sb with bee like he did in the Netflix tf bcs bee is someone whose thoughts DO NOT and cannot match his actual actions bcs theyre selfish and kinda rude and bee cannot allow himself to be Imperfect or the autobot cause and optimus's reputation would be ruined. HES supposed to be their shining light, their hope. If their hope is awful, then what does that say about the cause. I think soundwave and bee are very interesting together in general, but that's another talk another day. But yeah, i think bee feels terrible for sb but also is terrified of him, but bee can't just abandon him . Not like everyone else. Bee CANT be like everyone else, he HAS to better. ...don't tell anyone he thinks that tho- he just wants it implied a little- he just has to be perfect not bcs hes secretly selfish and mean but um! U guys just kinda suck! OOPS, UM. HE MEANS. he'll just distract them by being cute or smthing... & meanwhile soundblaster is watching like 'you're mentally ill. ...I Like That. '

This is how soundblaster talks and views bee, LOL. He just keeps him alive bcs hes entertained by his trauma that bee pretends he doesn't have, which makes it all the more entertaining. I just think the dynamic would be rlly funny, not even in a shipping sense, but a I just think they would be funny sense.

Bee: i mean .. i can't help but feel bad for shockwave.. he used to be a senator.. a Good senator.. he was so kind.. empurata- it's really awful.. he looks so different now.. it must have been so painfu-

SB: WOMP WOMP :P !

Bee:

Bumblebee: ...did you just say Womp Womp to Empurata-

LIKE. i think soundblaster is so fucked up and can be even more fucked up if they just explored him more to really distinguish him but also keep that soundwave association haunting him bcs that mech is Never getting rid of it. I think even if he gets damaged and tries getting repairs, his spark turns down any parts that Don't resemble soundwave's, hence why he has skinsuits to slither into to make himself feel like he can finally relieve himself of soundwave's shadow. Hypnosis doesnt work on him, not even his own. All the mirrors are immediately broken wherever he goes. He's an ill cretin who is also very funny to me. He loves to dance and sing while torturing and is very good at it! But he's also. Awful.

He can't feel, but he can feel some sort of peculiar tie to his cassettes, mainly so he can know their location Wherever they go. He likes to purposefully dispatch his army into losing battles with terrible odds so he can feel their cries shudder from within his spark and that low hidden mouth Grins. And if they end up somehow surviving and winning, then he guesses that's good too, or whatever :/

Bumblebee would be the perfect we have to do good straight man to soundblaster with how compassionate he is.. and soundblaster would be perfect in demonstrating bee's desperation to be liked when bee mistakes soundblaster's tolerance of bee being a good distraction for fondness.. like. Tf could do so much more with sb than just a clone.. bee would be a good big character to help get others familiar with SB !!! LIKE! UGH! THERES JUST SO MUCH POTENTIAL WITH SOUNDBLASTER!!!!! but also transformers is trying to appeal to a younger audience to get new tf fans and keep it alive so i don't think we'll get the soundblaster depth i dream of... if we get more of him at all.. but still.. a m&m can Dream ..

if the name Mr. Blonde from reservoir dogs rings any bells, that's who i associate with Soundblaster as well as orcas to help understand his personality better, to conclude my yap !!!

ANYWAYS!!!! THANK YOU FOR LISTENING!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS WEIRD THING SM!!! SILLY GUY!!!! MY EMO WIFE!!!! WE NEED SO MUCH MORE OF THIS SILLY GUYYY URGHHHHHHH!!!!!!! URE SO RIGHT! PLS ANON I LOVE U FOR ASKING ME THIS! SRRY THIS IS SO LONG! I THINK IMIGHTVE FORGOTTEN SOME THINGS BUT YEA HERES MY YAP FOR NOW !!!

[moregraceful]

I've been seeing a lot of discussion on here about curating your dashboard and it's been reminding me of an excellent van @puckpocketed post on mutuals. I think we need to kind of get away from the idea that you HAVE to follow your friends or you're a bad friend, or you have to stay mutuals with someone, even though they post stuff that rips you up, because otherwise you're a bad friend. I just don't think that's true?

Maybe coming at it from a Silicon Valley conspiracy theorist perspective where I feel like the concept of mutuals was invented by social media companies to refine your algorithm in a way that makes them more money, but I feel like...idk it's not true that you have to follow your friends on social media or you're a bad friend? If you're truly friends, following or unfollowing won't matter so much. Like blogging =/ blogger as Van correctly points out...I don't follow people that I have loving and friendly relationships with because they make posts that annoy me. But I don't think that makes us less friends? I know their hearts, I think of them highly, that their posts that annoy me don't mean they annoy me as a person overall. Like Tumblr is a very limited view of who someone is. It's not a reflection of all of a person, it's a reflection of what they choose to share with the world and sometimes what they share just isn't what I'm feeling at the moment.

Idk I think curating your Internet experience doesn't just mean blocking tags, sometimes it means knowing that your friends are annoying as fuck on Tumblr but you still love them and then hitting that unfollow button. I have people I talk to regularly who don't follow me bc my posts are annoying to them and I don't think that makes us less friendly? All it means is that they don't want to see my posts. I have a friend I talked to weekly, sometimes daily, for like over a year and we didn't follow each other for ages.

Following people is value neutral, you know? Like again, the posts are not the poster. maybe your friends tag badly, maybe they post too much about something you hate, maybe they just present themselves in a way that is so annoying, but that doesn't make you worse friends. Sometimes the posting vibes just don't align and I think that's okay?

[cyberphuck]

The Patreon Post

SO HERE'S THE DEAL: I do not want to make anyone have to pay to see my art.

Let's be real: there are like fifty bajillion other, more skilled, and better-known artists on Patreon putting out more detailed, more unique, more in-demand, and just more art than I am (or want to). I'm a self-taught, frequently distracted amateur who's had an iPad for a year. I'm not gonna pretend that I am going to be able to pull in more Patreon subs-- or keep them, for that matter-- on the strength of my random doodles alone. I have never really thought or even hoped that I could do that, because it would mean Doing Art As A Job, and I absolutely do not want to associate "drawing" with "work." (I also don't have the means, time, motivation or experience to self-promote and/or keep a small community of followers entertained, and even the thought of having to do all that on top of having to Draw For Work is terrifying.) There's the self esteem-destroying gutpunch that someone with BPD (me haha!) receives when they ask if something they created is "worth" a certain amount and are answered with silence. (If you have BPD, you know that 'silence' is so much worse than 'no.') I don't think that anyone is actually saying my work is worthless any more than I think stairs were invented to fuck over people with bad knees, but I want to avoid one for the same reason I avoid the other: hurts and bad for healing. And also, maybe most importantly, most of the fans of my work are my friends, and most of my friends are poor people. I do not ever want someone to have to choose between "Eggman weeping as he cradles a slain Speedy Gonzales" and "rent." Lots of people I know just don't have any money to spare even for professionally made entertainment, or, like me, sometimes they have money (yay, beginning of the month!) and sometimes they don't (booo, end of the month). I'm not gonna put a paywall between my friends and my art. So, as always, you can view all of my art on Patreon for free, without an account*. (*you will have to have an account to view NSFW stuff but this will be in the 'free' tier as well.) H O W E V E R. You guys I am so fucking poor. If you follow my blog you know the whole story already-- mental illness, chronic illness, chronic mental illness, surprise rescue puppies, surprise fines from the city, the fukken recently concussed clown show that is social services in my area-- and you've seen me having to crowdfund for everything from food to gas to dog emergencies. We budget down to the cent and have cut out so many things (like the meal replacement shakes for my eating disorder lol) and we're still not making ends meet. I've got friends who help, and they help a lot, but I hate the miserable, humiliating task of asking for help every single month. (You guys also know that I don't have family that can help me, even if shit goes critical. I was on my own while I was a homeless sex worker, on my own when we lived in a shed with no windows, on my own when we were in a house with no heat and only one source of running water, and definitely on my own now, in desperate need of mobility aids, house cleaners, and a god damn break.)

So here's where I'm at: I can't ask a few people for a lot of support, but I can ask a bunch of people for a little bit. If you like my art and want to help me keep making it, want to help me make shitpost replies to people on the internet, want to help me do free askbox art challenges: Put your doodle prompt requests in the askbox. You can even request stuff anonymously! Participate in polls about what prompts you wanna see. Reblog the art you like, show off the doodle you got, leave keysmashes in the tags. The more people see the post, the more statistically likely it is we'll find the one person on Tumblr with disposable income. Also, people should know they can get free art when the prompts are live! Sub to the Patreon if you can spare three bucks a month (you can also do Ko-fi if you don't want to make a Patreon account). Ko-fi is also a good place to just plunk something into the tip jar once in a while. There are Artcards and Monthly Sketch sub tiers on Patreon for a little bit more, but I will send an Artcard to pretty much anyone who asks as long as I have some left. The art is free, it will always be free. But if you can, spare a dollar (or three).

[freakingxloser]

Mickey Altieri - nsfw alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mickey will definitely help you to get clean and cuddle with you afterwards. Will talk about it for sure, ask you if you are okay and if you enjoyed it as well. But that’s gonna happen only if you guys are actually dating and he cares about you. If you are a random one night stand just for his pleasure, he would just get dressed and leave, not giving a damn about how you feel. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself is definitely gonna be his arms. He is aware of his strength (we all saw how he yeeted the girl out of the balcony lmao). Knows how to use it while killing and in his love life as well, holding you in place, or grabbing you by your hips and pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around your body…All about them. 

When it comes to you, I can definitely see that Mickey is a fan of thighs. Loves to see them jiggle, while your whole legs are shaking after a rough session of yours. Mickey loves to play with them, grab on them…or having his head buried in-between them…

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Mickey loves to cum inside you, doesn’t matter if it’s your mouth or your pussy…but actually prefers more to cum in your mouth. It’s the best way to avoid any kind of pregnancy scares plus he absolutely loves when you swallow his load, praises you for it afterwords. He enjoys the view of having his cum spilled all over your tongue. He 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mickey is extremely jealous and possessive. He hates when other guys even look at you. Doesn’t hesitate to even kill them if they dare to talk to you or even worse…touch you. That drives him absolutely crazy, so he just kills them. Then he may or may not use the same knife during your knife play sessions. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I mean…Mickey is on college. I don’t think he has a lots of experience, but definitely slept with some girls before…so I would just day that he definitely knows what he’s doing. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy for sure. Mickey loves to pound you from behind, the sound when his hips hit your ass, loves to slap your ass or grabbing you by your hair while he mercilessly thrusts into you. Or even surprise you with fingering your ass while already destroying your pussy…you’ll never know. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He definitely doesn’t crack jokes, but will definitely mock you if you cannot even form a proper words during your session. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Mickey definitely keeps himself trimmed down there. But not shaved completely. If you make him do it, be prepared for lots of bitching about it being itchy and uncomfortable. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Don’t expect any rose petals or candles, that’s not his thing. Mickey will shower you praises, having a slow sensual missionary with you, having an eye contact with you or his lips never leaving yours, but not any stereotypical romantic shit. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t jack off when he has you. Why would he? He simply grabs you and fucks you whenever he wants to. Even when he needs you immediately. He will drag you into an empty classroom and bend you over the desk if he really needs it. No needs to masturbate if it’s that easy, right? 

K = Kinks

My man is definitely into blood and knife play. None can tell me otherwise. Consensual non consent is on his mind really often as well. Would absolutely love to just sneak into your room and take you there without saying a word. Mickey is also for sure into somnophilia, it only makes sense imo. And I think Mickey is really into menophilia, he likes period sex and it absolutely drives him crazy, when he can go down on you during your period. Even when you protest, the little sparkle in his eyes when he suggests so makes you allow it to him. He goes really wild down there, licking all of the blood, sucking on your clit, fingering you…licking his fingers clean afterwards, yep…that definitely sounds like Mickey. 

L =  Location (favorite places to do the do)

He definitely prefers your or his bedroom, doesn’t like public places with a risk of getting caught. Mickey doesn’t want anyone to see your beautiful body, that’s why. When he really needs to fuck you during classes, he makes sure all the door are secured and none can actually get in. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Basically anything you wear, that at least a little reveals your thighs turns him on. Or when you walk around your room just in your shirt and underwear when he visits you…yep honey, you won’t get him off of you for hours. Also when he sees that you are needy, he is immediately ready to take you…of course you won’t avoid any teasing, of course he would mock you, tease your clit for ages, not allowing you to cum at first, but no worries, he would make you cum several times after he is done with teasing and mocking. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Mickey is okay with blood, cum or saliva. But other body fluids? Hell no. That’s a big no for him. 

O =  Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) 

He enjoys both, giving and receiving. Of course he enjoys having you on your knees, seeing you playing with his tip in your mouth and sucking on him…and once he has enough of you just playing around forcing his cock deeper in your mouth and making you gag on it, making your eyes all teary is something he could do 24/7. But going down on you, sucking on your clit, licking you, making you cum numerous times just with his mouth is something that brings him pleasure as well. (Especially during your period, but loves to do it even when you’re not.) 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As we read many times above, Mickey loves it rough and merciless. But our man gets that it’s not just about the speed, but also about the force. He can also have a slow, sensual session with you, but that doesn’t happen often, it’s really rare. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Mickey likes to take his time with you, but if you both are under a time pressure, he is up to it. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If he has some interesting fantasy, he will for sure include it in your sex life, at least for once. When it comes to taking risk then no, he definitely doesn’t want you to get caught, he doesn’t want anyone else to see your beautiful body. And when it comes to pregnancy risks, also no. He makes sure that you are on the pill or has a plan b ready for you…but spilling his cum all over your tongue is just as satisfying, so he tends to do that more to avoid the risk. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Mickey is a college dude, of course he can fuck like a rabbit. All the time and each round gets longer and longer. He can fuck you for hours, until you feel tired and cannot take it anymore. But he would definitely continue after you falling asleep (with your consent, if he loves/likes you…if you are just a random girl, well…he won’t bother with consent).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I cannot see Mickey using a big variety of them, but ropes, handcuffs or anal toys that he would use on you? Hell yeah. But from what he could deduce from the movie…I can positively say that his fav “toy“ is a knife…

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, Mickey would tease the shit out of you…especially if you were teasing him whole day at school. He won’t stop until you beg him to finally do something. But this motherfucker loves to hear you beg, so…it’s gonna take you a lot of begging until he actually gives you what you want. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Mickey is not really loud, just when he gets closer and closer to his orgasm. Of course there is a lot of heavy breathing going on, but more he focuses on those lovely noises you make. Mickey absolutely loves to hear you moan or whimper, or hearing your little sobs while you are overstimulated and cannot take it anymore…oh he would die for those. 

W =  Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Mickey wants to know everyone that you are his. He is for sure obsessed with you. So because of that, he leaves marks on you. Sometimes its just random bites or hickeys on you neck, other days it’s bruises…or his name craved into your skin. Loves to just carve his name into your thighs or ass and lick your bloody wounds clean, since his obsession with blood is slightly getting out of hand too. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I think Mickey is slightly above average, definitely thicker… definitely pleasurable. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mickey has a HIGH sex drive, okay? Probably not higher than desire to go on a killing spree, but still…Mickey would fuck whole day every day if he could. Sometimes during weekends he just refuses to let you leave the bed. When you get up after one round of lazy morning sex, thinking that you’re gonna have as shower and then do something productive, but Mickey is already behind you, making sure you have the right company in the shower, playing with your pussy, gently rubbing your clit, before pushing you against the shower wall and pounding into you again…I do not need to tell you what happens after shower, right?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As I said before…If he cares about you, he will make sure that you’re okay, cuddle with you, talk to you and then fall asleep. But If he doesn’t, he just passes out or leaves you immediately. 

[xclowniex]

I just need to rant about Youssef Haddad for a moment cause I’ve been thinking about this a lot and you said you accept random ramblings. Just to start off, I don’t agree with quite a bit of the stuff he says, but I also don’t want to dive into a judgment of his politics and the way he presents them or whatever. So onto the main point— I think the reason so many people hate Youssef so much is because he is very Arab and very Israeli. That’s kind of obvious, but I want to elaborate

Like, I think a lot of radical leftists, Hamasniks, anti-Israels, whatever you want to call them, think of Arab Israelis as just living in Israel, not seeing themselves as Israeli or as Israel being their home and country. This is just the place they’ve ended up in for whatever reasons. Which is an experience that definitely exists, and it’s completely fine, but it’s also not the experience of a lot of other Arabs in Israel. Youssef Haddad is so undeniably Israeli, like you can just tell that Israel is his county and that he’s proud of that. And that makes a lot of people very angry

It’s that cognitive dissonance, the fact that so many people have built their image of Arabs being completely incompatible with Israel. So they see an Arab man who is also Israeli, and it’s not out of convenience or anything like that, he just genuinely is Israeli, and they just can’t compartmentalise that information with the ideology they’ve already built. But they can’t change any of their views on Israel, no, that would make them an evil imperialist apartheid Jew loving Zionist apologist! So instead the only thing they can do is become fucking enraged

Youssef Haddad makes them so mad because he’s not a token to them. He’s an Arab man who isn’t ashamed of being Arab (ffs he’s not a ‘blood traitor’ for being Israeli, you sound like a white supremacist), but he’s useless to them. He’s worse than useless, he’s actively a problem to their one dimensional, Jew hating ideology that refuses to stop fetishising Arabs and Arab struggles. And that’s the thing about tokenisation— it only lasts as long as you’re useful. As soon as you don’t fit the cutout stereotype they’ve built for you to try to contort yourself into, they not only toss you away, but they hate you with vitriol. It’s why I genuinely can’t see any of these people actually caring about Arabs (and Palestinians especially). When the only reason you advocate for a group is so that you can fetishise and tokenise them, then maybe you’re not really advocating for them after all

As soon as you don’t fit the cutout stereotype they’ve built for you to try to contort yourself into, they not only toss you away, but they hate you with vitriol.

100% this. Its why people think that Drake can no longer call himself black or Taika Waititi Maori. Your ethnicity only matters if it can be weaponized

It’s why I genuinely can’t see any of these people actually caring about Arabs (and Palestinians especially). When the only reason you advocate for a group is so that you can fetishise and tokenise them, then maybe you’re not really advocating for them after all

Also 100% this.

[avocado-writing]

Omggg i hear your requests are open again??? Yayyy so excited so excited. I’ve been thinking ab smth angsty with Crowley where the reader has serious abandonment issues and Crowley accidentally triggers them. I would love it to be angsty but fluffy at the end bc I don’t want Crol to be sad :(

Tysm and i hope you have a fucking great week💕✨

notes: a phenomenal meme, thank you. I hope reader seems in character enough for abandonment issues!

pairing: crowley x reader

rating: T

He’s gone, and you’re worried it’s forever.

He’s had to go and do some work. Some demon work. When the two of you properly began getting together he had to tell you about his true nature; you were surprised and secretly a bit thrilled because, well, how many people have a demon in love with them? It made you feel very special indeed. And Crowley does love you so very deeply, you’ve never had a love like it before. Which made it sting all the worse when he had to go.

You were bickering about him leaving. He had to go to bloody Spain to perform some sort of temptation, and he knew you couldn’t get the time off work to come with him. You were begging him to stay, he was insisting he couldn’t, and as neither of you could see the other’s point of view voices began to get raised. It ended with him leaving you in your flat, slamming the door behind him in frustration.

You’ve not seen him for a week. It’s been driving you mad. He’s gone, hasn’t he? He’s gone forever. Just like every other person who’s walked into your life with claims that they love you only to disappear when things got difficult. You are unloveable, you are not worthy of anyone’s time. You do not deserve to experience anything other than heartbreak.

When he comes home he knows he’ll need to apologise. It doesn’t come easily to Crowley, admitting that he’s wrong, but he’ll find a way to force it out of himself for your sake. He shouldn’t have left how he did. It was unkind. Petty. A relationship shouldn’t be about trying to get the last word in an argument, and he feels very small indeed.

He knocks at the door to your flat and, when it isn’t answered, he miracles the lock open and walks in. Maybe he can get started on dinner. Maybe coming home to the smell of cooking and him being all grovelly will make things better.

This plan is stopped in its tracks when he finds you curled up in a blanket on the sofa. You look terrible. Tired, miserable, and ever so small. You take one look at him and recoil.

“What do you –”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley says. It’s not forced or uncomfortable as it usually is when he’s made to apologise, but sincere. An apology is not a plaster, though, and you still look raw and wounded as he sits on the opposite end of the couch. You wince as he reaches out to touch you.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” is all the explanation that you can muster.

���Oh, darling. I’m…” he wracks his brain for something that’s a suitable apology, but can come up with nothing better than another “I’m sorry.”

Tears begin to fall down your cheeks and you seem furious at them, wiping them away with the edge of your blanket, but still unable to get them to stop.

“I thought you were done with me. That you hated me.”

“Come here,” says Crowley, bundling you in his arms and pulling you onto his lap. You cry a little, at him, at yourself, at being so stupid. “I don’t hate you. I’d never hate you. I think it’s impossible, actually. I was just being a twat. I’ll even do the dance if you want me to.”

You laugh into his shirt and he’s relieved.

“No, keep that dance for Aziraphale. I think he’d be annoyed if he found out you did it for me.”

You look into his eyes, and he moves his sunglasses up so he can meet your gaze properly.

“Don’t leave me,” you whisper, voice trembling a little.

“I won’t. I swear.”

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[strangersteddierthings]

Writing Prompt for this list, requested by @suddenlyinlove. #42. "His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow." and #30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Details - This is an AU with a twist I don't wanna spoil so like... suspend your disbelief please. Period-typical homophobia and thus, the use of slurs derogatorily. Stir clear if that is triggering.

Posted on Ao3 because it is long (9.7k) and it might be easier to read there for some.

-

August 25, 1984 - Two Days Before the Start of School

There's a good view of the whole party from their dark corner of the yard, where Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are huddled around him. Eddie'd told Carol Perkins he'd show but only if his friends could come, too. If she wanted weed, then his friends could have beer.

Plus, if he was going to suffer, they were going to suffer. That's what friendship was about.

"His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow," Eddie mutters, glaring in the general direction of Steve 'The Hair' Harrington as he laughs at something (he's clutching his beer awfully tight for someone having fun- Nope, Eddie doesn't care).

"Right? Can see it ballooning right before our eyes," Jeff says. This is why Jeff is his best friend. They hate on the same things. People. Whatever.

"Sorry for you guys," Eddie fakes sympathy, "once I graduate, I won't have to deal with it. Let me know if anyone shoves you into a locker though. I'll slash some tires or refuse to sale 'em weed. Whichever hurts them more."

"You said that last year," Gareth says. "And yet."

Eddie pretends to stab himself in the heart, falling to the ground dramatically, gasping like he was dying before finally stilling, staring as unblinking as he could at the sky.

Jeff nudges him with his foot, "good riddance, Munson. People will remember you weirdly."

Eddie breaks character to grin up, lifting a hand that Jeff takes and helps pull him up. "Remembered weirdly is what it's all about."

"Speaking of weird, Harrington's being... weird," Gareth says, tilting his head slightly, still looking in the direction they'd all been looking at just moments before. "When you just dropped he like... I dunno. Weird."

"What, weird how. What did he do?" Eddie whips to look at Harrington, who is looking back, looking worried, and is slightly closer than he was before. Eddie watches as Harrington's eyes track his entire self, looking for what, Eddie can't even begin to understand. He can visibly see the tension leave Harrington's body, pretty sure even his friends clocked that (even though they have less experience in the Harrington-watching department than himself).

"When you dropped, he like... rushed forward. I think he caught how fucking weird that would be for him to do 'cause he stopped just as quickly. That's weird, right?"

"Really fucking weird."

Harrington steps back into his friend group, more on the outside than he was before. (Did seem like people loved Hargrove a bit more than Harrington these days).

Eddie and his friends go back to trash talking everyone they can set their eyes on. It's easy to do, what with being ignored in the corner again. Occasionally Eddie is flagged down by someone, or they try and make eye contact (which is worse), so he huffs as though put upon and marches off to a different corner of the Perkins' backyard to sale his contraband.

(If he's marking it up, well, these rich kids can afford it.)

Anyway, their trash talk always seems to come back to Harrington. None of them acknowledge it out loud but Harrington's the easiest to shit talk in public because he's the safest. He's egotistical, kinda airheaded, and an asshole, but in a different way than Hagan or Jackson or most of the other jocks.

Harrington is the kind of asshole that you introduce yourself to 15 times and unless you're 'popular' he doesn't bother to remember he's already met you. Hagan and Jackson are assholes that give you a swirlee if you sneeze wrong near them, or will call you a fag before gut punching you behind the bleachers because they think they caught you staring at them (which Eddie was not ((It was Harrington he was staring at)).

He's safe to shit talk because he doesn't get physical (couldn't win a fight if the rumors were true (Also they all saw how he looked after Jonathan got him)) and rarely gets confrontational (less so with each passing year). Eddie thinks that's his ego - he's so full of himself that anything you say about him can't possibly affect him. (What are the words of a peasant in the face of a king, after all?)

That's not to say they haven't fucked up and said something at just the right time to provoke Harrington in the past, because they all have, but it's typically his lackeys that jump in defense, that say something first to defend Harrington. And The King will let them bark and growl just enough to put the peasants back in their place, calming his dogs with words of 'they're not worth it' and 'if what he said meant anything it would have hurt, wouldn't it?' which is just rude. Like Eddie and his friends aren't even people capable of drawing Harrington's attention, much less his wrath.

If Eddie's honest with himself (he's not), he would stop to question why he even wants to provoke a reaction from Harrington (it's because of his stupid crush), but Eddie's not honest so...

The point is, they feel pretty comfortable trash talking Harrington in hushed whispers to themselves in a corner of Carol Perkins' yard.

"Do you think he, like, genuinely thinks he looks cool when he does that?" Gareth whispers as they watch Harrington shotgun a beer, again.

"Dunno, probab-" Jeff cuts himself off, a quizzical expression on his face as he turns his head to look towards the Perkins' house. He's got ears that pick up everything, so Eddie just watches as he moves away from the group to the fence. Watches as Jeff jumps to look over. When he lands, he flips quickly back to them, looking between them and the group of party goers. He takes a moment, assessing his options it seems, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "Cops in bound! Just turned onto the street!"

The party starts scattering instantly, teens running in all directions.

Brian and Gareth eye the back fence and Eddie knows immediately they're not going to jump it. Eddie throws Gareth the keys to his van, "get Jeff and go."

They don't argue, they've done this song and dance before. Eddie knows they might get a stern talking to for smelling like beer but if Eddie's in the van with them, they're all ending up in jail because of what's in his lunchbox. (Hell, they'd still get a night in jail instead of just a warning for the beer if Eddie's in the van without the lunchbox).

Eddie's not the most athletic but he's gotta run. He tosses his lunchbox over the back fence before hauling himself up, one leg over and trying to get the other when he gets high-centered for a moment before gravity starts to pull him down (thankfully on the correct side of the fence) only to find the chain on his jeans catches along something at the top, leaving him to cling quickly to the fence, praying he can muster enough upper body strength to haul himself back up enough to unstick the chain before the cops get here. He tries to readjust and his hand slips, he can't get any leverage. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He's so screwed. Officer Callihan said if he was caught again, he'd be tried as an adult. Wayne's going to kill him. Why won't these stupid jeans just rip, how has the chain not given way yet? He's going to get caught with his lunchbox right at his feet. He's-

Being shoved back up, someone's shoulder digging painfully into his ribcage to get the leverage needed for Eddie's body to be high enough for the stranger's hand to sneak up and unstick the chain. Eddie expects to be dumped suddenly and unceremoniously on the ground but this does not happen. Instead, his mysterious hero manages to keep him pinned up on the fence long enough to turn themselves so both of the stranger's arms are under Eddie and then they kind of just... sink together, using the fence as a counterweight by leaning into but not actually dragging Eddie down against it.

The culmination of which ends with Eddie being held like some blushing bride in Steve Harrington's lap. Eddie opens his mouth to say... something. What, he doesn't know, but Harrington lifts a finger to his lips to signal him to be quiet. So, he stays quiet, heart pounding.

It takes about five full seconds before the sounds of the cops busting the party actually start, the sirens on the cars flipping on to let the scattering teens know they've been caught. In that same instance, Harrington sweeps up Eddie's lunch box and shoves it onto his chest, where one of Eddie's hands comes up to wrap around and hold it close on instinct, the sound the metal handle clanging on the metal lid meaningless in all the other sounds happening.

Using his other hand, Harrington basically folds Eddie forward and out of his lap, back on his own feet in a crouch. Harrington shoves his chin forward, a silent instruction to move but Eddie's still wrapping his head around the fact he's no longer dangling from a wooden fence like an idiot, so Harrington steps forward, a hand wrapping around the wrist of Eddie's free hand, forcing him to follow along as they stealth along the wooden fence of the Perkins' residence, then the fence of the neighbors, and finally a third neighbor before the fences run off and all that's left is the woods that boarder the town one way, and a way back to the road on the other.

Eddie should pull his wrist free and book it, run as fast and as far from Harrington and this party as he can get but he's kind of star struck right now (he can be a little honest with himself, as a treat). He just follows, lets Harrington jerk him around (don't even think it Munson, do not think about it-) and follows quietly.

Harrington peeks around the end of the fence, looking for any incoming trouble, Eddie assumes, and quickly jerks back, looking to Eddie, "you trust me, man?"

And Eddie, the idiot, says, "Yeah, man."

Harrington grabs his lunchbox, ripping it away from him with ease (Eddie's still star struck, okay?) and shoves it up against the fence, twisting his body as he does, so he ends up sitting with his back to this fence, body blocking sight of the lunchbox before pulling Eddie into his lap.

This is what brings Eddie back into his body. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just don't punch me until I get the cop that's gonna round the fence any time now to go away."

Eddie could bolt but he's not particularly fast, so he'd be caught, and he knows the odds. Between himself and Harrington, they'll book him and let Harrington go with a warning. So, Harrington thinks he can get the cop to go away? Okay. He lets Harrington manhandle him (don't think it don'tthinkit don't-) He's absolutely thinking it because Harrington grabs his ass and pulls him flush against him before a hand cups the back of his head and shoves his face into Harrington's neck, and then Harrington whispers in his ear, "just pretend we've been making out back here for the last half hour."

Fuck! Harrington's trying to get him shot by the goddamn police. He is an idiot and should have known better than to trust him. Well. If Harrington thinks he can get away from this unscathed, he's sorely mistaken. Eddie lifts his hands to ruffle Harrington's perfect hair before gripping it roughly with one hand, the other moving to brace himself on the fence, then he latches onto Harrington's neck, intent on giving Harrington the biggest, ugliest hickie of his life. Try and explain that away you asshole.

Except Harrington's reaction isn't what Eddie had thought it would be. Instead of being shoved, the hands on his ass and in his hair squeeze, seemingly trying to get Eddie closer and that is definitely a moan his hears, breathed directly into his ear. It eggs Eddie on a bit, truthfully, so he pulls back a little, less set on just marking Harrington and a little more set on seeing if he can make Harrington actually enjoy it.

Eddie presses kisses over the bit of skin he'd just bit like a wild animal and runs his tongue up to gently pull at Harrington's earlobe, before kissing his way back down to suck at the same spot some more. Harrington keeps switching from squeezing at him to petting him and Eddie's not really going to complain. The police can come shoot him. He'll die- well, not happy but at least alright.

"Jesus Christ, kid!"

Eddie tries to jerk away, a reflex because that's Chief Hopper's voice and he's so fucking screwed, but Harrington keeps him moored there, face hidden, hand cradling his head more gently than it has been thus far, the hand on his ass moving up to his lower back, holding him closer... dare he say, protectively.

"Hopper," Harrington sounds more calm than Eddie thought he would, "hi."

Eddie wishes he could see what is happening because there is an awful lot of silence going on in which he can only assume Hopper and Harrington are staring at each other. (Having a silent conversation, perhaps?)

Then the heaviest sigh he's ever heard from Chief Hopper (and he's heard some heavy ones in his days) greets the air, "I don't want to know who that is. Just this once, I am going to pretend I didn't see you here. You'd think that you would learn- Next time you and your boyfriend sneak away from a party to- just go to his house. Jesus, if it had been anyone but me walking around this corner... Give it about twenty minutes before you leave." The sound of retreating footsteps and Hopper's voice reporting in his walkie an 'all clear' follow those words.

They don't part immediately. Eddie waits until the footsteps cannot be heard before pulling back. Harrington makes no move to remove his hands from Eddie's person, so as a result the hand that was in Eddie's hair falls to his shoulder, then his chest, where it rests now that he's back far enough to look at Harrington. The moon is bright, and Eddie's eyes have adjusted to the dark of the evening, so he can see Harrington's face. "How the fuck did that just work?"

Harrington gives an almost hysterical sounding giggle before he tries to drop his head back to rest on the fence. He can't successfully do that, because Eddie realizes he's still cradling Harrington's head with one hand.

He makes no motion to move his hand, just holds Harrington's head up as he seems to be going through... something right now.

It takes several minutes, but finally he speaks. "It's kinda personal. Let's just say, Hopper and I got history, a- well, a good history isn't how I'd put it, but like, we're on the same page with it."

"Did you fuck Hopper?"

Harrington laughs out loud and Eddie slaps his other hand (the one not currently petting his soft, soft hair) over his mouth to muffle the noise. That sobers Harrington a little, remembering the 'wait twenty minutes' thing and once it seems like he's got it together again, Eddie removes his hand.

"No. Nothing like that with Hopper."

Eddie's a bit hung up on that fact Harrington is not immediately shouting that he's not a fag and would never have slept with the chief of police, a man. "You're really not gonna tell me."

"No."

They just kind of look at each other after that. Eddie's not sure what to do now. He should get out of Harrington's lap, right? That's a thing he should definitely be doing right now.

But.

But Harrington isn't shoving him off. In fact, his eyes are half closed as he stares at Eddie, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet his own, so Eddie feels like he can confidently say King Steve is looking at his lips. Eddie licks his lips, a test of sorts.

Harrington passes, because his tongue flicks out to lick his own lips.

"Hey, Eddie," (what the fuck. Harrington has never, not once, said his name, and Eddie has re-introduced himself several times.) "I want to kiss you. Can I?"

Oh.

Eddie's never been asked that before.

Gross. Eddie's got fucking butterflies in his stomach from Steve fucking Harrington.

Eddie wants to say yes so fucking bad but- well, his whole world view of Steve Harrington has just been rocked and now a ball of guilt is forming inside him for how he's marked up Harrington's neck like a wanton slut and Harrington asks for a kiss. But Harrington is also, at minimum, five beers in plus the weed, so he's clearly not thinking straight (ha fucking ha) because he wouldn't be asking him for a kiss if he was.

"No," Eddie says softly, "you're drunk. If you still wanna kiss me in the daylight, ask then."

Harrington scrunches his face and Eddie doesn't know him well enough to decipher what that look means, but he nods, sitting up so he can lean forward and nuzzle his face into Eddie's chest, bumping the top of his head against Eddie's chin like a cat.

Eddie leans his head atop Harrington's and lets himself be cuddled.

What a weird fucking night.

-

"Jeff!" Eddie flings himself on his friend's couch the next day, face down in the cushions, his voice mumbled as he continues, "I don't know what to do."

Jeff, ever patient with Eddie, just folds his legs at the knee and sits on the couch, dropping his legs back down and into his lap. "The way I see it, you do nothing."

"Nothing?"

"You sound extra pathetic mumbling into the couch. Nothing. If Harrington wants to kiss you, he'll ask again. If he doesn't, or tries to turn this on you, remind him he's the one that let another boy mark him up. You don't know if you can trust him."

Eddie musters all his strength to turn his head to the side so he can breath again. "You're right. As usual."

"Try not to sound so annoyed and disappointed."

"I should trust the Munson doctrine. If it's too good to be true, then it's not true," Eddie says as he wiggles forward, out of Jeff's lap and onto his knees, shuffling around until he's sitting cross-legged on the center cushion.

"Maybe, maybe not. Like, we know Harrington's an asshole but he's not mean," Jeff says. "besides, maybe being dumped by Nancy Wheeler for Jonathan Byers might have shaken some decency into him. Humility, even."

Suppose they'll learn if that's true tomorrow. "You can't tell anyone what I told you."

"Duh. Blackmail only works if the leverage you have is still a secret."

-

“Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Brian all look up at the same time. Harrington isn't even holding a lunch tray, hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket, striped polo tucked into light wash jeans under his opened jacket, Eddie's hickie only half hidden by the polo's collar.

Eddie's eyes scan the cafeteria quickly. Hawkins is a small town, so it stands to reason the schools are too. There are literal, completely empty tables. So, Eddie's eyes go to the table Harrington usually sits at.

Ah.

Everyone there is looking over. Watching. Waiting, probably. This is the trick. The joke. If Eddie lets him sit, they've pegged him for the desperate fag they all tell him he is.

"'Fraid this table is full, too," Eddie says, careful to sound bored as he says it, looking directly at Harrington.

Harrington's eyes widen slightly, like he hadn't expected Eddie to deny him. Well, joke backfired, buddy.

"I.... see," Harrington says slowly. "My mistake."

And they all watch him leave with such little fanfare that Eddie's wondering if he misread the situation. Was Harrington actually wanting to sit with them- but no. He watches as Harrington returns to his table, to the royalty of Hawkins High. Hagan says something to him and Harrington just shrugs with one shoulder before plopping onto the bench.

They wait for Harrington to start up conversation, for the leering and mocking to start up but it doesn't. Harrington just sits there in silence.

"What... was that?" Gareth asks, looking away from the Royalty to look at Eddie.

"Got no idea," Eddie lies, even as Jeff is leveling him with a look he refuses to acknowledge.

-

November 7th, 1984

Harrington was absent yesterday (not that Eddie keeps track) and now here Harrington is, slinking into the American History class they share for first period, face busted to shit. Eddie does a double take because he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him but no. Harrington looks worse than when Jonathan got him.

Eddie spends the first twenty minutes of class just watching Harrington. Harrington slides into his chair and keeps his head down, eyes closed most of the time. Every now and then he winces and drops his head into his hands, palms digging into eyes. He looks bad.

Then Harrington goes a little green around the gills and looks like he's forcing himself to swallow down vomit and Eddie's done watching the sad display. "Hey, Miss Click, I think Harrington's gonna lose his breakfast all over the back of Thompson if he doesn't get outta here soon."

Miss Click looks like she's gonna give him detention again but then she looks at Harrington and must agree with his assessment. "Help him to the nurses office, Eddie."

Normally Eddie would argue but Harrington is also looking at him now and he really wants to know what happened so instead of arguing, he stands. Harrington does, too, grabbing his bag from the floor and shuffling towards the door.

The halls are empty and Steve makes it maybe ten feet down the hall before he falls against the lockers, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Come on, Harrington," Eddie grabs his backpack from him and shoulders it, then pulls one of Harrington's arms around him. "Just keep your eyes closed. I won't walk you into any walls."

"Thanks."

It's so quiet, Eddie's not sure he was even meant to hear it. They walk in silence a bit more before Eddie asks, "so, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, sure. Nothing causes this all the time."

"What'd'ya care."

Fair. That's fair. He shut Harrington down quickly at the beginning of the year. And Eddie's had plenty of time to concede it might have been the wrong thing to do. Harrington really wasn't setting him up to be a joke, or a punching bag, because if he had been, Eddie would have been jumped by now. Especially since it's fairly common knowledge that Harrington has fallen from grace, replaced by Billy Hargrove. A whole asshole and a half, that one.

They're silent all the way to nurse and even after Harrington vanishes behind the door, Eddie loiters in the hall. He doesn't care about getting back to class. Whatever is happening with Harrington is so much more important.

Another period later and Harrington is shoving himself through the door, even as the nurse protests behind him.

"I'll be fine, really. I'm sure my mom's not answering because she's not near the phone. There's no need to worry," Harrington catches sight of Eddie then. He looks surprised, but says to the nurse, "Eddie here will drive me home. I promise I won't be driving with a concussion."

She looks past Harrington to Eddie and he finds himself nodding frantically. The nurse, not paid enough to argue with teenagers, nods back and Harrington escapes back into the hall without argument.

"You need a ride?"

"I can drive myself."

"Absolutely not. You just said you were concussed."

Harrington looks like he wants to argue more but before he can, he folds a bit into himself, hands pressing into eyes again.

"Look, I owe you anyway, alright. Let me repay."

There's a long silence, then, "okay."

Eddie walks into Gareth's third period class and deposits the keys to his van to him with instructions to pick him up from Harrington's after school (Jeff is his best friend, but Gareth is the safer driver) before helping Harrington limp his way to his own car, where he hands over his keys very forlornly and climbs into his car. Eddie takes the driver's seat and they're off.

"You gonna give me directions, Harrington?"

"You've been to my house before."

This is true. He just didn't know Harrington remembered that. Hagan had invited Eddie to deal there, once; Harrington himself, twice. He didn't know Harrington had even remembered he was there. "Didn't know you remembered that."

"You've been to my house four times."

"Three."

Harrington lull his head to the side to squint (is he trying to glare?) at Eddie. "Four."

Four? Eddie didn't remember- oh. Harrington's ninth birthday party. Eddie was invited, one of the few who hadn't been in Harrington's class to get an invitation. He was in fifth grade, Harrington in fourth. It was shortly after Wayne had brought him to Hawkins.

"Your birthday party. Why'd you even invite me to that?"

Harrington doesn't answer.

-

"I thought you said your mom was home," Eddie says as he follows Harrington into his house.

"I lied."

"Clearly," Eddie says, looking around as he continues to follow Harrington upstairs.

Harrington just allows it, which Eddie wants to question but won't because he's working out how to apologize for the first day of school without apologizing.

"If you're here alone, who's waking you up to make sure you aren't dead?"

"No one. And clearly, I am not dead."

"Someone's supposed to wake you every few hours, right?"

Harrington shrugs. "Don't need anyone to. Why, were you gonna offer?"

Was he? No. Maybe. He follows him all the way to his plaid hellscape of a room, watches as Harrington flicks on his light, then tries to block the sunlight with his sad curtains and gives up quickly, opting to toe himself out of his shoes and crawl under his covers instead.

It's fucking pathetic.

Eddie leaves Harrington's room to start opening and closing doors around the upstairs. Rich people always have a- yes! A linen closet. Eddie pulls out the darkest towels and heads back to Harrington's room.

"You got tacks or nails or safety pins?"

Harrington pokes his head out from beneath his covers, squinting at Eddie. "Tacks in the cup on the dresser." then he disappears again. Quite an awfully lot of freedom Harrington seems to be giving him. He could be snooping through things.

He doesn't, though (yet). He uses almost all of the tacks to get the towels to stay up, but no sunlight breaches them when he's done. Then he turns off the light and closes the door, leaving it open just a crack, before sitting himself on the edge of Harrington's bed.

"I owe you an apology, Harrington," Eddie finds himself saying. Fuck. He was trying to do this without having to actually do it. Too late now.

"Oh," he hears in the near darkness Harrington's surprise, feels shuffling as Harrington must be moving to look at him. "Erm, why do you think you owe me an apology."

"For the first day of school. I thought- I thought it was a prank. Or a joke. A cruel one."

Eddie turns to see Harrington peering at him, just his nose and up visible, hair a static ruffled mess, the comforter held in place by one hand. "It wasn't."

"I know that now," Eddie whispers, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. "I just- I'm sorry. I did want you to sit."

Silence. Then, "I get it, Eddie. I wouldn't trust me either."

"I said I trusted you, that night," Eddie says, "and I did. I do? I think... I didn't trust myself, I think, enough to believe that you were truly being genuine with me. I was shitty to you. So, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Harrington says, "I'm gonna go to sleep now, my head is killing me. If you're hungry help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen. You're missing lunch period."

"You gonna sleep in your jeans?"

"Too much work to remove 'em," Harrington mumbles.

"Undo your belt and jeans."

"How forward," Harrington has an eyebrow raised.

"Just do it, ya tool," Eddie says with more bravado than he feels. He slides off the bed and watches the comforter shift as Harrington does as he's told. Eddie rounds to the end of the bed, pulling up the comforter and reaching under blind, finding Harrington's legs and trailing up to his knees to grasp of the jeans. "For your modesty. Lift your hips." Harrington does, and Eddie pulls. Harrington drops his hips back down once the jeans are near his knees, lifting his legs slightly instead, allowing Eddie to pull them off and drop them on the floor at the end of the bed. "Alright, sleep it off, Harrington."

Eddie leaves him to wander to the kitchen because he is hungry and missing lunch, and this free food is going to be infinitely better than whatever the cafeteria was offering simply because it's free.

The fridge has some leftovers in it, so Eddie helps himself to leftover chicken and mashed potatoes. He eats it standing in the kitchen.

Once done, he explores Castle Harrington. A big kitchen leads to a dining room, which rounds to a large living room with a wall of windows that lookout to the pool. Eddie's familiar with the backyard, where he'd station up and wait for people to buy. There's a little hall that leads from the living room to the stairs and front door, with another hall alone the middle of the wall there. It leads to a bathroom and a rec room, complete with pool table (fucking rich people) and another door farther still. It's locked but Eddie's a snoop, so he flips the latch and opens. It's an empty garage.

Eddie ends up removing his shoes, denim vest, and leather jacket, flopping down on Harrington's couch to channel surf, though his eyes keep flicking down to his watch. At the one-hour mark he sneaks back up to Harrington's room and looks for signs of life. Easy enough, Harrington snores.

He checks each hour. Eventually Gareth shows up, signaling his arrival with three sharp jabs to the horn of Eddie's van. Eddie heads out without putting anything back on.

"I'm staying. Harrington is not- it's not good, dude," Eddie says. "Looks like he got beat worse than I did when took a chance behind The Hideout."

Gareth's eyes go wide. Eddie'd gotten beaten for being gay (a busted lip and bruised ribs; would have been worse if the owner of The Hideout hadn't been stepping out back to smoke and ended up chasing away Eddie's assailant). "What happened?"

Eddie shrugs. "Don't know. But I gotta find out. I think he was being genuine with us, on the first day of school. I feel like I have to make sure he's okay."

Jeff leans forward to peer around Gareth from the passenger seat. "You feeling guilty, Munson?"

This is a conversation they've had several times. One Eddie never wins. "Well, yeah. If I'd let him be our friend, he might not have been wherever he was when he got the shit beat out of him. Might have been watching us at band practice or something instead."

Gareth makes a gagging noise. "Ew. You've got it so bad for Harrington. Polos? That's what gets you hot and bothered?"

Eddie feels his face go red. "Fuck off."

"Don't fuck up this time, Eddie," Jeff says before sitting back out of view.

"Call if you need a ride to school tomorrow," Gareth says before reversing out of Harrington's driveway.

Eddie waits until Harrington's gotten a full eight hours (most of which he spends snooping about the place) before going to wake him up. "Hey, you gotta get some food in you, I think. Up, up."

Harrington groans, but it sounds more annoyed than pained.

"Up, up, up, up," Eddie repeats, swatting lightly at Harrington's legs, occasionally grabbing to jiggle a leg.

"'m up. I'm up," Harrington says, sounding more like himself than he has all day. "Have you always been this annoying?"

"Call it the Munson Charm."

"Charm," Harrington repeats flatly.

"I already ate your mashed potatoes, so I'm hoping you're not wanting those for dinner. Lunch? Whatever."

Harrington throws the covers off, standing before Eddie in a polo shirt and plaid boxers. "Hey, Eddie. It's still daytime out there, yeah?"

"Yeah, didn't miss it."

"Cool, cool. Can I kiss you?"

Eddie freezes, remembering that's what he'd told Harrington to do. Ask him in the daylight. He does still want to kiss Harrington, but also, he's afraid. "First you ask drunk. Now you ask concussed. Still a no, buddy. It's gotta be daylight and without anything that could be messing with your mind."

Harrington takes the rejection well, just nods an okay and motions towards his door for Eddie to lead the way to the kitchen.

Harrington opts for a TV dinner, offering one to Eddie. He accepts, because, again, free food. Then they eat them at the dinner table like it's a real meal, instead of off of TV trays in the living room like normal people.

And the odd thing about it all is how not odd all of it is, actually. The last time they were alone together, Eddie ravished his neck like a goddamn vampire. And now they're just hanging out, chatting ideally like it's a thing they do all the time.

Eddie can see why Harrington became popular so quickly. He's easy to like when he's like this, soft spoken and kind. Eddie finds he wants to know if the guy sitting across from him is the real Harrington, or an act. Or was King Harrington the act? Eddie really hasn't known him enough to say that but he's seen this house. Conformity seems important to the Harringtons.

"You looked like you could use something to cheer you up," Harrington says, out of left field.

"What?"

"It's why I invited you to my ninth birthday. You'd just transferred to our school. Looked so sad all the time. Eight-year-old me hadn't experienced a sad birthday party, so I thought it would cheer you up."

Oh. "That's-" what is that? Sweet? Considerate in a way Eddie didn't think young Harrington possible of? "It worked. Your party was fun."

Harrington smiles at him, a soft and shy thing that makes the butterflies erupt in his stomach again. "Well, thanks for watching over me today. Made it easier to sleep, having someone else in the house."

"Anytime."

"You mean that?"

Does he? Eddie can't promise even himself that it will always be true, that he does really mean anytime, but it's true right now so he says, "yeah, man."

-

Being friends with Steve Harrington is so much easier than Eddie thought it could be.

Steve -because he's Steve now, not Harrington- doesn't come back to school the rest of the week, but he makes Eddie go, asking if he can gather his homework from his classes so he won't fall behind. And school has never been a real priority for Eddie (it is his second senior year) but hanging out with Steve has become important.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian even come over on Saturday evening, at Steve's insistence. He wants to be their friend, too, it seems. And what an odd thing to see, his friends and Steve lounging around his rec room, Brian beating all of them at pool so easily it should be humiliating. Steve chats with them all like it's easy, normal, a thing he enjoys doing.

He can see his friends keeping the topics safe, music, high school gossip, they even start to discuss their grades. Eddie is mostly listening because he's been chatting with Steve all week, so he can see his friends are steering clear of anything other. They don't bring up anything Steve wouldn't talk to other jocks about.

Leave it to Steve to throw them for a loop. "Hey, you guys are all in Hellfire, right?"

The room screeches to a stop, all eyes going to Steve. He's not sure what's showing on his own face, but he can see all his friend's faces. They look surprised.

"Yeah," Jeff finds his voice first. "We're the only members."

Steve nods, "right. You play Dungeons and Dragons?"

"You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?" Brian asks.

"Yeah," Steve shrugs, fiddling with the beer can in his hands, "I know that, it's like -Hellfire, that is-, a high school club but- oh, this is gonna sound bad. I can tell already."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, curious, "just say it, Harrington. If we don't like it, there's four of us and one of you. We'll give you a swirlee in your own damn toilet."

Steve laughs and that seems to be all the push he needed because he relaxes, setting the beer down on a coaster, "I know some super cool kids who'll be freshman next year. I think they'd really want to be in your club. But, uh, since Eddie and I will be graduating this year, I was wondering if you'd want to move your game from the school to here? So they can join in."

Eddie's brain shuts off. Steve knows some cool middle schoolers, who play Dungeons and Dragons, and thinks the should all come to Steve's house to do that. Play DnD together. (Steve also believes he's going to graduate this year, ha!)

"I'm sorry," Jeff says, laughter in his voice, "there's no such things as cool middle schoolers."

Steve frowns slightly, "well, these will be the first, then. They've got their own DM, his name's Will, but I think he could learn a lot from Eddie. And Dustin loves this game so much. But if they wait until next year to officially join the club, Eddie won't be there."

Steve knows that Eddie is the DM. Steve knows what a DM is. (Steve really believes he's going to graduate this year?). "How- what? How do you even know about Hellfire? Or that I'm the DM?"

"I go to school with you guys," Steve says, "I know I'm an asshole but I'm not oblivious. Just because I didn't acknowledge the existence of your club before now doesn't mean I was unaware of it."

Fair point.

"Alright. Let's have our next club meeting here instead of the school. You can bring these cool middle schoolers and we'll see. If they're just lame middle schoolers, we're going to be very disappointed."

"Great! You meet Thursdays, right? They'll be here."

-

Monday is the real test. Eddie's feeling some kind of way about Monday. It's lunch, and everyone is already at their usual tables except Steve, who hasn't arrived yet.

Jeff catches his eye and Eddie can see he's thinking the same thing. It was easy to be friends with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson behind closed doors and in front of people already his friend. But if Steve actually comes through those doors and sits at their table, he'll be a target. Fully and officially.

Of course, Eddie catches sight of Steve as soon as he does come in, sack lunch in hand. He watches as Steve doesn't even hesitate. He weaves his way around other teens and plops down at their table, into the space left available for him between Eddie and Gareth. Watches as Steve beams at him before pulling a fucking pb&j out of his stupid brown sack.

Eddie can hear the murmuring around them, catches Steve's name and his own, knows that they've all been noticed today. The outcome of what will happen because of this, unknown.

Eddie doesn't like the unknown.

He might be willing to face it, though, if Steve keeps smiling at him.

-

The week passes. No one says anything to him. Steve sits at their table every day.

Thursday comes and he gets to meet some pretty cool middle schoolers, though unexpected ones. Will, the DM, turns out to be Will Byers, who was dead and then not dead and also the little brother of the guy who beat Steve up and stole his girlfriend (what the hell sparked this kids friendship with Steve?). Mike Wheeler, little brother of said ex-girlfriend. Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson are the last two. Eddie has never heard of these two, and therefore doesn't have any opinions just yet.

The kids know their stuff but they don't end up playing. Character creation takes some time, and Eddie's gotta think about how to incorporate four new characters (he was expecting one lame middle schooler, even though Steve had used the plural of kid every time he talked about them).

Before they all head out, Steve asks to talk to Eddie.

"Hey, I just- if the kids get into other after school activities, would you be okay with moving the date of the club meeting? My house is available every day, not just school days."

What an odd request. "I guess? Why?"

Steve shrugs (but it's a shrug Eddie has come to know doesn't mean 'I don't know' and means something closer to 'I have a perfectly valid explanation for this but don't know how to put it into words so it's easier to say I don't know') and says, "some school activities can't be rescheduled. It's be kinda shitty to make them miss this by forcing them to chose."

"There's a story there. I want to know it."

Steve looks at him, open in a way that Eddie hasn't experienced. "I want to tell you. But I'm not ready for that. Not yet. Now, go home and do your damn homework. I gotta drop these kids off."

-

December 21st, 1984 - Christmas Break

"I can't believe you did Dustin's hair for their Snowball dance," Eddie says as they watch Jeff, Gareth, Brian, Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin pile into Eddie's van after a rare, afternoon meeting of Hellfire. Gareth offered to take everyone home (maybe Eddie had to beg him to do it so he could stay and bother Steve, but that's between him and Gareth).

"He deserves a good older role model. I try to be that person," Steve says, and before Eddie can mock him for being egotistical, he continues, "that's why I wanted them to meet you, I guess, back in November. Dustin deserves a role model who understands the things he likes. Dustin needs you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that, so he just walks to the living room, grabbing the remote and settling in on the couch. Steve joins him shortly, sitting next to him rather than at the other end of the couch.

"You finish your homework?"

"Oh my god, mom," Eddie rolls his whole head dramatically, "no. I'll get it done eventually."

"Eddie," Steve says, sounding serious. Eddie turns to him, and Steve reaches out, grabbing one of Eddies hands, slotting their fingers together and Eddie feels those damn butterflies he's so used to these days. "I want to graduate with you. We can have a joint graduation party here. But that can't happen if you don't do your homework."

Eddie looks at Steve, feeling more seen than he's ever been in his life. His hand clutches back at Steve's. "Yeah. Okay. I'll graduate with you. Class of '85."

"Joint party?"

This is Eddie's chance to ask the question he's been itching to ask. "Your parent's won't mind you sharing with the resident freak?"

"My parents won't be here. They send me a card with a letter to take to their local accountant, who will arrange for a graduation cake to be delivered on a date of my choosing and give me money to host whatever kinda party I want. And what I want, is a joint party."

"You sound so sure of that."

"I am," Steve says, looking away to stare towards the TV, "I know the exact date they'll be in town between now and April 1986."

The fact Steve says 'date' and not 'dates' is not lost on Eddie. "When's that?"

"May 28th, 1985."

Eddie studies the side of his face, looking for any hint of a joke. "How do you know that?"

"Would you believe me if I said it's because I'm actually twenty-one, and have already lived through these events, and by some miracle was sent back into the body of my 17-year-old self to try and stop something terrible from happening?"

Eddie hits him with a throw pillow. He'll get the truth out of him one day.

-

May 3rd, 1985

Eddie graduates with Steve. It was fucking hell making it happen, but Steve recruited Nancy Wheeler to help tutor them both. (Eddie thought he'd be jealous, but Steve really isn't into Nancy anymore. They'd chat, he'd ask about Jonathan even, but most importantly, he'd always sat closer to Eddie than Nancy).

All of Hellfire is invited to their graduation party, his Uncle Wayne, too, along with the entire Byer's family, Chief Hopper and his daughter, Max Mayfield, and Robin Buckley. Most of these people aren't a surprise to Eddie by the time the party comes around but meeting them and learning that Steve considers this odd group of people his family was a surreal thing when it was happening.

(The real surprise person is Robin Buckley, who Steve had tried to befriend briefly during January but quickly backed out of doing that when he saw how weirded out it made Buckley. Buckley does not show to their joint graduation party but everyone else does.)

Steve and his uncle get along well and it makes some deep part of Eddie warm and fuzzy. Wayne was initially distrustful of Steve (rightfully so, given Eddie's history with jocks, and that he might have complained, loudly and often, about Steve to his uncle before. Hard to backtrack that.)

But Steve had shown up one day, asking to speak to Wayne instead of Eddie. Wayne had said yes, and then they both climbed into Wayne's pickup and went God knows where because Wayne and Eddie both know if they'd stayed on the property, Eddie would have done his best to eavesdrop.

Upon return, Steve had given Wayne a hug, hopped in his own car, and left.

Neither will tell him what they talked about, the jerks.

But all that to say, they're here, the sliding-glass door that leads to Steve's backyard wide open as people freely move from the inside to the outside and back. His friends, Steve's friends, their friends mingling easily. Hopper and Wayne chat, Jonathan and Gareth are hucking kids into the pool (at their request), Nancy is talking with Jeff and Brian, and Steve is standing at Eddie's side, holding a plate and eating cake (chocolate with raspberry filling, Eddie's favorite).

Steve spends a lot his time at Eddie's side.

Eddie expected Steve to be tired of him by now. To give up. But he hasn't. Every now and then, he still asks if he can kiss Eddie. And Eddie keeps saying no. Always an excuse, always a reason. It's been fucking with Eddie's head because he doesn't understand how Steve can be so willing, and wanting, to kiss another guy. Especially since the guy he wants to his is Eddie Munson!

Steve doesn't always ask when they're alone. He's asked when other people at this party are around, but always too quiet to be heard, like he's protecting Eddie's secret but doesn't care if people know his own. A little part of Eddie was mad at him about it; Steve's never been beaten up for being queer which probably makes it easier to be open about it.

In fact, Steve had asked him just this morning as they put their graduation gowns on over their regular clothes in the school parking lot.

"Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"No. Why are you so eager to get beat up?"

"I'm not scared of these people, Eds," Steve says with that damn shrug.

"You should be! This town'll try and kill you for being a fag," Eddie spits out, memories of Hagan, Jackson, Hargrove, the man from The Hideout, all come back to him.

"I've seen Hell, and I'm not afraid of a single person in this town," Steve says, voice cold and Eddie used to doubt that, but they've been friends for months now and Eddie's seen the nail bat he keeps in the trunk of his car, and been there when Steve's woken up screaming. Steve doesn't talk about it and Eddie hasn't pushed but this is- hearing this is the most direct Steve's ever been about it. Whatever the fuck it was.

"Tell me about it," Eddie finds himself say. "You've seen Hell?"

This brings Steve back to himself it seems, because he looks shocked by Eddie's words even though Steve said them first. "Not today. Today, we graduate!"

So, they've graduated, they've partied, and now, Eddie has questions.

"Hey, Steve, follow me," Eddie says and heads back into the house. He doesn't look back, doesn't need to to know Steve is following. He goes up the stairs and into Steve's room, waiting for Steve to enter before closing the door behind him.

"Want to get me alone, Munson?" Steve asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I want to know about Hell."

Steve drops onto the edge of his bed like a stone. He can see the war going on in Steve's head. He can wait this out. He leans back against the door, a confirmation for Steve that he's not going to give up on this easy.

"Eds, you didn't believe me before. I don't- I don't want to lose you if you don't believe me again."

Again? Eddie would have remembered if Steve had told him anything about Hell. "Trust me, then. Trust that I'm not going to leave just because I don't believe what you say."

"Okay," Steve says. "You asked, back in December, how I knew when I'd be seeing my parents again. Remember?"

Eddie thinks before wrinkling his nose and saying, "Yeah. Time travel."

"Yeah. Like Back to the Future but- shit. That's not out yet. But yeah, time travel. Sorta? I don't know. Maybe I didn't travel through time and instead just had a vision of the future. Or a prophetic dream. Or whatever."

Eddie is less leaning against the door, and more using it for support now. "The fuck, Harrington? You weren't joking about that? You really believe that?"

"Yeah. And I got a majority of the people in my backyard to believe me, so I'm hoping I can convince you, too. And if-if I lose you. If you think I'm crazy, or a liar, or whatever, it's better that I lose you this way than-" Steve cuts himself off, a choked sob following those words. Never, not once, has Eddie seen Steve cry, but he's seeing it now. Crying, over the mere thought of losing Eddie. Because Eddie isn't gone, he's here in this room with Steve, and still Steve cries.

"Hey, hey, shh," Eddie shoves off the door to drop to his knees before him, hands going up to cup his face. "I'm here. You're not losing me because I'm here."

Steve nods, cheeks rubbing against Eddie's palms before Steve's hands come up to grip loosely at Eddie's wrists, Steve leaning in to rest his forehead against Eddie's. He takes a shaky breath in before he speaks. "I've already changed the future. In that other timeline, the bad one, you didn't graduate this year. You don't meet Dustin or Mike or Lucas until next year. I'm so fucking jealous of you because I think Dustin like you better than me because you understand the things he likes and I don't. You never got to meet Will, the Byers' had already moved to California by the time the kids are Freshman."

Eddie stays quiet, waits, closes his own eyes to just hear Steve.

"There's another world, Dustin says it's another dimension. I don't know enough about how it all works but we call it the Upside Down. There are monster there, the Demogorgon and Demodogs, and later, Demobats and Vecna."

"Vecna and Demogorgon at from Dungeons and Dragons."

"I know. These things had no name until we had to fight them. The kids named the Demogorgon. You and Dustin name Vecna. Now shush."

Eddie nods against Steve's forehead and listens to the impossible. Will being stuck in the Upside Down, a girl with superpowers, how Steve got involved, that Steve returned to a body that had fought the Demogorgon but the Demodogs hadn't happened yet. That he and Nancy break up because Steve knows both their hearts belong to others (Eddie's insides twist because he's sure that Steve is hinting that his heart belongs to Eddie but that's for later in the story).

Steve talks about going to Carol Perkins' party because he'd heard Eddie was going to be there. He doesn't know how the events go before this timeline because Steve hadn't gone to that party last timeline. He'd been with Nancy still, then.

He talks about how Hopper was the first person he told about the timeline change, because if anyone could prove he was telling the truth, it was El. Hopper hadn't believed him but it had built enough of a trust that Hopper was willing to let them go at the party.

He talks about the events that led to the concussion he'd got, that sparked their friendship fully. How he'd gotten it protecting those kids from Billy Hargrove. Burning down a pumpkin patch.

"You said you were twenty-one," Eddie says, when Steve stops talking. "That would make the year 1986? '87?. What happens next?"

Steve shakes his head. "I can't- there are things I can't say. Can't talk about yet because if I change the timeline too much, Vecna could win. And I can't-he cannot-I-"

"Shh, shhh," Eddie soothes, "no, you don't have to tell me. Thank you, for sharing this with me. I do... I have a question."

"Mmm?"

"How do I play into this. Why did you decide to be my friend now?"

"To change the future. In March of '86, you get- the Upside Down shit effects your life, too. We trauma bond and- I realized that I wish I had known you better. Sooner. We had one week together and honestly, I spent most of it pining after my ex. It took a while, but I realized I will always love Nance, but I wasn't in love with her. But that realization came after it was too late for us-" Steve cuts off, sobbing.

Eddie doesn't know what happened. Isn't sure he wants to. That's a timeline that's already lost forever. For it to come true, it requires him to be in high school and he's not. "Hey, it's okay. We're okay. We're going to stay okay."

They stay there, close, until Steve is calm again and ready to rejoin the party.

"Hey. Any chance I can see El move something with her mind?"

"Yeah. Gonna have to wait until your side of the family leaves, though. It's still fragile, who knows and who doesn't."

His side of the family. Like- Eddie cannot think on that too long or he's going to combust. "Can't wait to see."

Eddie does get to see. Steve pulls El aside as the party winds down and whispers in her ear. A little while later, while Eddie is the only one outside for his smoke break, his cigarette gets pulled from his mouth and flung into the pool. He jumps, because Jesus Christ, but a quick look towards the house shows him Steve, arms crossed and smiling, with El, arm extended towards Eddie still.

He can't find himself to be mad about the cigarette when El smiles at him.

-

Steve is already cooking breakfast when Eddie emerges from the guest room the morning after graduation. He'd been invited to share Steve's bed (just to sleep, Steve had sworn) but Eddie had to decline because he wasn't sure he could trust himself.

"Morning," Eddie says, draping himself boldly against Steve's back to look over his shoulder as he fries up hashbrowns. Steve doesn't even hesitate to lean back against Eddie.

"Morning."

"Put that down and turn around for a moment," Eddie steps back and Steve obeys, setting the wooden spoon he'd been pushing hashbrowns around with down, turning to lean himself against the counter rather than stay in front of the stove.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to report that I am suffering no hang over effects. You?"

"None," Steve says, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Good, good. Didn't fall out of bed and concuss myself either. Same for you I assume?"

"Same."

Eddie thinks Steve is starting to understand, if the little surprised face he does is anything to go by. "And I can't help but notice the daylight out that window. You see the daylight?"

Steve gives him a lopsided grin. "I do see it. Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

They meet in the middle. For a kiss that's been a long time coming, it's so gentle. Steve cups his face like he's made of glass and Eddie should be annoyed by that but he's not. It just makes him feel safe.

Feel loved.

They break for air but don't go far from each other.

"I don't know what the future holds, unlike you," Eddie says, because he's a cheeky boy, "but I do know that no matter what it brings I'm here. You can't get rid of me now."

Steve looks conflicted, "not even if I asked you to go? For your safety? Even if it's to save you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Babe, you've already saved me. You've already changed the course of my life." He clocks the way Steve's eyes darken when he calls him babe. "I'm gonna make sure I've changed yours for the better, too."

Steve hauls him back in by his shoulders. They kiss and kiss and kiss until the smell of burning hashbrowns ruins the mood.

Eddie doesn't know what horrors await (no one but Steve does) but they'll face those together.

[androdragynous]

tell me something about your art. fucking love the recent sharp angles.

thank you for giving me an excuse to ramble I love you. kiss

this is going to be a long post but I think it's important so I'm leaving it as a normal post and not a read more

I wrote more words and changed my mind because I got distracted a bunch of times by talking to myself. Enjoy

my own works in general have always been like. The Way By Which I Interact With The World which I think is a pretty common artist experience. my fan art tended to focus on my own characters in those settings rather than on the existing characters because of that, to my younger self's chagrin at times (the desire to Appeal To Fandom was much stronger in my younger years, which I think is also pretty typical). so there was always that lens of, like, these characters aren't me, but they could have been, in some way, or at least when viewed at certain angles. first guy is dealing with the same shit, second guy is doing some gender stuff baby me won't unpack for another five years, you get the idea.

and then the whole disability thing ramped up a few notches and everything went to shit, which is to say, for a really long time there I couldn't so much as look at art without pain, let alone long enough to create it. I did not have the tools to accomodate that disability or the finances to get them, and so for a really long time I was basically cut off from... what honestly felt like my ability to connect with people.

this sucked very badly in many ways. it's still not back to where it was before things got worse, but I'm happy with where it's been recently. I don't know how much of that is connected to getting a blood transfusion and the affiliated correction to my quantity of blood. I don't know how much of it is just pure desperation to reconnect with a world that I feel estranged from. We will come back to this point because I have a different tangent first:

I really don't like vent art. I don't like making it, I don't like posting it, and I don't like seeing it. I understand why people make it - I understand why I do - but there's a very harsh rawness to it that feels inappropriate as a viewer. It's voyeuristic; it's a look into something incredibly deeply personal hurt and an equally deep and genuine desire to have that hurt seen, validified, comforted.

I do not think vent art is bad to create or share, to be clear. The fact it makes me uncomfortable does not illegitimize it. Could honestly strengthen its reason for existing, to be quite honest.

The line blurs with disability, though, and this is where we come back to the original tangent, because to talk about disability that cannot be cured will innately be seen as venting. It's basically inevitable, in my experience. You're supposed to want to get better. You're supposed to hate existing like this. So if you mention it, to people who haven't either been in the same boat or who haven't taken the time to work through their own baggage about it, it's innately a vent. It's innately a hurt that you're burdening them with, a hurt that you want recognized and helped. My family members have been particularly bad about this viewpoint, but so have friends and medical professionals. So have strangers. I find it akin to arguments against gay public displays of affection; two men holding hands is sexual, using a mobility aid is pitiable. You get me? There's that innate sense that you, as the person watching a disabled person be disabled, should be feeling something about it, and if it's not inspiration porn, obviously you're meant to be sad. If it wasn't clear, this is the description of a train of thought that I believe is entirely incorrect.

Anyways. So disability art ends up grouped as vent art if you talk about it sucking at all, even if the suck is about the barriers presented by society and not the disability itself. I can, of course, only speak for my own experience, which is what this post is about, so my situation is very much barriers-focused.

People really, really aren't good at dealing with the discomfort part, what I detailed as the emotions I feel around vent art. People don't know what to do when you don't want help, or their help doesn't help (for whatever reason), or basically in any situation where you can't actually fix things, which is a lot of Being Disabled. It's hard to sit with that discomfort, especially when it's about a person's vulnerability. People want to help others, generally, in my experience, and it's difficult to not be able to when it's someone you care about.

Which all ties back into the voyeurism; to be visibly disabled is to be a spectacle. This has also been pretty inevitable, in my experience. Being in a wheelchair draws attention. Using a cane draws attention. Wearing an eye patch draws attention. So on and so forth. Sometimes this is great - people will offer their chairs to me sometimes if I'm using my cane, for example, which I appreciate - and sometimes it is less great.

This ties in, for me, with the part people REALLY don't like talking about, which is sex and sexuality. How do you date when you can't go out to many places? How do you get to know someone when you live with others and can't invite them over? How do you look sexy when you feel and kind of look like a corpse? These are all questions I'd love to know the answers to, because I'm shit out of luck on figuring it out so far, and that's not even touching on the actual sex, because I don't want to get this post filtered if I can help it. There's a balance, right, of being visible on purpose by flirting, dressing up, going out, making an impact, that is both directly overlapping with and directly opposed to the inevitable visibility of visible disability. They juxtapose magnificently, in a kind of sun and moon during an eclipse sort of way, you get me? You have to lean into it. You have to make yourself comfortable in that visibility because it's inevitable, and you are going to inevitably be viewed as a spectacle because you've leaned into it, and you're never going to be viewed as sexual because nobody will ever distinguish that there are two kinds of visibility being done, here.

And THAT I think is where my art is at right now, trying to convey that overlap. I do not think I have been subtle about it - it's loud colors, sharp lines, layers of vandalism over the original draft, a kind of intentional obscuration that implies many others were drawn to leave their mark there. You know? But because of What It Is, I do think it causes discomfort in the overlap. It's supposed to. It's inevitable that it would. I think being disabled is overtly sexual in the way being gay is overtly sexual in the way being trans is overtly sexual, in that none of them are but none of them aren't, either, in the right contexts or the wrong ones. People are going to see you exist and come to their own conclusions about how wrong you must feel in existing, and they will be made uncomfortable by that perception, and they will want to fix you. You have to accept that or you have to be uncomfortable right back. There's not really a third option that keeps you alive. This is all connected to the art, because the art is also inherently sexual, for approximately the same reasons.

So the tldr is "op is it weird if I think this is hot" is both the intended response and yes, it is weird, and you have to sit with the fact that both of those are true and you have to be normal about it for the rest of your life forever, and also you should take that knowledge and get weirder about it. It's a complex system. I also may have described none of it. Good luck.

[apostate00]

What's your opinion on Tankie? I think he's kinda funny and cute

Ohoho THIS is gonna be a long one, strap in!

Well, my opinion on Commie is mostly negative. I HATE this guy, but it's like a passionate hate, the kind that if he were gone, things would feel empty, because he's my favorite guy to despise.

I tend to make him worse in my HCs than he is in the show, even though he's already not great either. I think part of my dislike for him also stems from them fact that he's held up in the fandom as a good guy, when he really isn't, seeing how he's blatantly disrespectful to trans/non-binary people, and would discriminate against minorities if they didn't do as he said.

Nevermind the fact that he's a tyrant and denies the holodomor, which he caused, and also brushed off Nazi's holocaust denial. Also he runs gulags, which are basically just concentration camps & slave labor, but people seem to be mysteriously brushing over that if it's commies who do it. It's a joke then.

People have told me before that the reason they like him is because he's just desperate for a family and community, but personally, that makes me like him less.

How people can ship Leftist Unity is beyond me, when Commie repeatedly disrespects Ancom and later Ansyn. He doesn't give a shit about trans people, misgendering them simply because he can. Also, we all know damn well Commie will kill Ancom the second he doesn't need quem anymore.

I think some of it also stems from me being agender myself. I generally really hate how Ancom/Ansyn's queerness was handled in the show since no one respects quis pronouns ever, and it's more played as a joke than anything.

Fuck even the fandom doesn't respect quis pronouns at times.

People prolly think that it's not that big a deal, but for me who is incredibly protective of the self and their individual identity, disrespecting someone else's to integrate them into your homogeneous view of things is so repulsive and disgusting; it's not nessecarily the act of misgendering, even though that is bad too, but the complete disregard for individuality and identity.

I read Commie as abusive, but I've gathered that some people in the fandom really don't like that lol, I got to add onto my tally of "people online told me to kms" over it. But yes, generally I picture Commie as someone who actively infantilise Ancom and makes quem adopt this uwu uwu personality we see so often, to take away quis teeth, make them submissive, follow him around and make quem less likely to stand up for quemself against him.

There's more of course but, my personal headcanons are besides the point.

I do also use this guy to project my own personal experiences and trauma onto sooo, he has become kind of an amalgamation and caricature of my abusers.

I don't know, basically everything about Commie is so repulsive to me. I can basically only tolerate him with Nazi because they're both tyrannical scum and deserve each other.

I'm pretty big on freedom & individualism so that probably also doesn't help his case in my brain 😭

People can like Commie ofc, you can love and adore characters that are pieces of shit; I'd know so since Ancap is my second favorite character only surpassed by Ancom, but you know, I know what it's like to love a character who is fucking awful.

I guess I just wish people would acknowledge Commie's shitty behaviour more often instead of treating him like this big friendly harmless guy.

But yeah, people can do whatever they want of course, that's just my thoughts about it! :3