#like The Flash is the ONLY thing that I went

[shadyr4m]

REWATCHING SEASON 2 EPISODE 7 OF ARCANE

+ some of my highlights and notable moments that I enjoyed bc people can’t understand media anymore

This is mostly an infodump of stuff I can fit into a twitter thread/didn't rly want to make into a thread. I'm not great at words so I apologize in advance, I am sure there are many people much better at analysis than I.

I want to start off by saying I am heavily invested in timebomb so this is very much going to be a ship analysis. If you're looking for someone unbiased i am very much not the person for that 😭

FIRST OFF:

The disc on the music box is adorable!!! It features au Powder (who I am going to refer to as just Powder for the duration of my analysis) and au Ekko

Compared to the normal Disc

This is very obviously because it takes place in a different universe, one without Vi or "Jinx".

The first scene starts off with AU Ekko writing in his notebook. (Cute mention is Powder's doodle in his notebook!!) Then we see flashes of the wild rune. This is when AU Ekko switches to canon Ekko.

Also one of my favorite silly images from this episode is this one.. Powder is being so adorable and Ekko is just scared out of his MIND. it's so silly.

In the Last drop, Powder asks Ekko. "What is up with you? You've been out of it all day?". One thing I noticed in my rewatch is that i think Powder is aware this Ekko isn't HER Ekko. This is just one instance of many that makes me think this.

This hideout seems so much more vibrant and loved, similar to Jinx's hideout after Isha. It's colorful. There are guard rails that I like to think was pushed by Vander. We can see Ekko's art scattered around. It just shows how much more support and family Powder has compared to Jinx, which i mention a lot.

Id also like to note Ekko being shocked au him went to powder for help. In his mind at this time he believes Jinx to be all that is left, no more Powder. Through out the episode we see that change.

Notice how Powder gets upset at Ekko in this scene. However, she doesn't react explosively like Jinx would've. She handled it in a way that shows she had support. She told him to leave instead. Again, the main difference between Powder and Jinx isn't only Vi but also the existence of multiple support systems that Jinx simply didn't have.

THIS FLASHBACK! Oh my god this flashback. The fact it happened after he upset Powder? I think it shows just how much he truly cares about Jinx/Powder. He remembers VIVIDLY the day that he thought he killed her. Jinx was his childhood best friend, and I don't think that kind of feeling ever truly goes away. He doesn't want to hurt any version of her, not even the alternate universe her. We see that showcased more later on. Also, random probably insane note. He is interrupted by small children playing, having fun. This isn't a coincidence, it shows he does miss the moments from when they were kids.

While talking with Heimerdinger, we see Ekko look at Powder multiple times. Watching her laugh and be expressive, he smiles. When she doesn't return it we see him get upset. Once more this brings me to my point that he doesn't want to hurt her. Considering he hasn't known this Powder very long you can see where I gather my point that he doesn't want to hurt her in GENERAL. Any version of her.

THIS SCENE!! He is such a bad liar it's adorable. This brings me to my earlier point, Powder knows what's up!! She suspects something 100%. He is talking about this dream her like it was real.

"You aren't the kind of person who helps other people with their projects. Your ideas change the world. I can't shake the feeling that that's who you're supposed to be."

Are you LISTENING TO THIS? He is obviously talking about Jinx. You can tell this by the first sentence because obviously Powder IS that kind of person. He's starting to see that Jinx is just a part of Powder, one that is unavoidable and that he unknowingly appreciates in a sense. Like two sides of one coin he can't see Powder without Jinx and that is good. I think it is here he realizes truly just how much he cares about Jinx.

This whole montage is beautiful but I want to zero in on two things. Powder's reaction to the notebook and how she looks at Ekko after. NOW THIS. This is the nail in the coffin for her. She knows that this is not her Ekko. She has fully gathered that he isn't from this universe.

Also heimerdinger totally knows how Ekko feels you cannot tell me otherwise. Pushing him to go to the party? yeah he knows what you are.

THIS WHOLE SCENE. I AM NOT ANALYZING THE WHOLE THING HERE BUT IT IS GORGEOUS. I saw someone talking about how it was animated on 4's to signify the way Ekko can only go back 4 seconds and I honestly shed a tear. THE SONG TOO? I encourage everyone to look at the lyrics because they're beautiful.

Okay now for my favorite part of this episode so much to dissect and i'm totally going to mansplain but yk..

"I used to dream the undercity could be like this" — That sets the tone for the whole conversation and just what world he is talking about. The canon one.

"But somewhere, I got consumed by all the ways it wasn't. I gave up on it. Gave up on YOU." — Heavy emphasis on this line. Once more he is talking about Jinx. He is talking about how he got so consumed by the way that Jinx wasn't good, and he gave up on her. Believed she was irredeemable. Powder showed him that Jinx is capable of love and happiness, it's just under that tough protective shell. The undercity in the metaphor is Jinx, from my interpretation.

"I promise i'll never forget this." — Now time for my insanity. He doesn't forget this. That's why he saves Jinx from ending her life in the first place. He remembers Powder and knows that with the right support Jinx doesn't have to be the way she is. It's not that she "needs to be fixed" she just needs to be LOVED, like Powder. He sees that now. He sees how in the au the love that everyone shares for one another shaped the undercity beautifully, and made everyone in it much healthier mentally despite going through hardships. That is beautiful. People with mental illness are not unlovable they just need more support, it can't be cured, or fixed just healed. Mental illness is always there it is how you DEAL with it that matters.

Nothing too major to talk about with the kiss. It's sweet I love it, but nothing too notable for me to say about it.

Finally, Ekko leaves the au. I have seen people say that this is a sacrifice, he could've had everything he wanted and he gave it up to save the people at home. But i take insanity to another level. I see this as him appreciating his home. He knows he can never truly love this Powder because she isn't the version he fell in love with. He learned to appreciate Jinx even through her flaws, and that while this world has everything he could want and more he can have that home too.

I am experiencing HEAVY timebomb brainrot if you can’t already tell. I was tired of people taking things in the complete wrong way with this episode, if anyone has different views pls tell me I love hearing how other people took certain scenes. there are a few scenes I love but I would’ve made this post way too long..

[fifty555]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ poetry? no, pottery!

a lil’ love between you and little lando norris 💞 with a twist as you’re a ceramist/potterer!

content warning; none! just enjoy the fluffs! ah, there’s a bit of explicit language (i think?), but nothing drastic! enjoy 😽!

summary; childhood friends reconnect after years apart—he’s a formula 1 driver, and you’re a ceramist.

Lando Norris was used to his friends teasing him. Whether it was his golfing misadventures, his love for Twitch streams, or his occasional emotional outbursts on team radio, there was always something to make him the subject of banter on and off the grid. But the one thing they had yet to figure out—something that he was genuinely proud of—was the pottery.

It started innocuously enough. A vase here, a decorative bowl there. The other drivers had assumed Lando had simply developed a newfound taste for ceramic art after moving to Monaco. Carlos had even joked once, “You’re just trying to look posh, mate.”

But no one had noticed the small etchings at the back of each piece: a simple ‘Lan’ with a heart. Subtle, personal, and not exactly the kind of thing you’d put on items for sale. That mystery had lingered until one fateful evening when everything unravelled in the most chaotic way imaginable.

It was post-race at Silverstone, and the whole grid had gathered for dinner at a private venue. Spirits were high after a spectacular British Grand Prix, with plenty of laughs and, naturally, plenty of friendly ribbing.

Lando sat beside Oscar, carefully monitoring his phone, knowing full well that at any moment you might call. You were in your apartment in Mexico, finalising details for an art exhibit while simultaneously working on personal pottery commissions. Lando adored how dedicated you were to your craft, even if it often left you so absorbed that you forgot things—like where you’d placed your keys, or, as he was about to find out, something a little more important.

Amid the loud chatter, Lando’s phone buzzed, and your name flashed on the screen. Without thinking, he swiped to answer. “Hey, love,” he greeted, but before he could say anything else, your panicked voice filled the room.

“Lan, I lost my ring! I don’t know where it is!”

Shoot, he forgot about the speaker.

The room fell eerily silent as the unmistakable sound of your frantic cries echoed from the speaker.

Lando froze. His brain short-circuited as he realised his phone was still on speaker. Every single driver at the table—except for Oscar, Alex, and George—was staring at him like he’d just confessed to murder.

“Oh, for fu—” Lando scrambled to turn off the speaker, but not before you continued, “Baby, I don’t know where it is! I can’t even—”

He interrupted, voice strained with embarrassment. “Have you checked the wet clays? That’s usually where you’d lose it.”

The line went quiet for a second as the realisation hit you. “Shit. I’ll go check. Thanks, love. Enjoy your dinner with the boys, bye!” You ended the call abruptly, leaving Lando to deal with the aftermath.

“What the hell was that?” Daniel was the first to break the silence, leaning forward with a grin that practically screamed mischief.

“No, who the fuck was that?” Max followed, his bluntness cutting through the rising chaos like a hot knife through butter.

The room erupted in questions. Pierre was halfway across the table, trying to pry answers from Lando, while Charles was practically yelling over everyone else. Meanwhile, Carlos gave Lando a pointed look. “Mate, don’t tell me you’ve got a secret girlfriend and you’ve been hiding it from me?”

Lando’s cheeks burned as he fumbled to explain. “Look, it’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?!” Charles’ voice reached a pitch that only dogs could hear. “You’ve been holding out on us! Who is she?”

Amidst the chaos, Alex calmly took a sip of his drink and glanced at Charles. “You’ve met her before.”

“I have?” Charles frowned, genuinely confused.

George pulled out his phone, scrolled through his photos, and handed it over. “Here, this’ll jog your memory.”

The photo showed George, Alex, and you at a karting event years ago, laughing over slices of pizza. You were unmistakable, even with the short haircut and boyish charm you used to sport.

And the fact that you used to terrorise Charles on the grid.

Charles’ eyes widened. “You’re telling me that demon is Lando’s—”

“Fiancée,” Lando corrected with a smug grin, cutting him off. “She’s my fiancée.”

If the table had been chaotic before, it was nothing compared to the uproar that followed.

“Fiancée?!” Charles looked moments away from fainting. Pierre had to physically restrain him from climbing over the table.

Max, ever the straight shooter, raised a brow. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since October 2020,” Lando admitted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms defensively.

“You kept this a secret for three years?” Daniel looked simultaneously impressed and horrified. “And all we got were vases?”

“Wait,” Carlos interjected, pointing a finger at Lando. “The pottery—don’t tell me that’s her doing?”

Lando smirked, finally finding his footing in the conversation. “Actually, most of it’s hers. But I helped with a few pieces.”

“Explains the hearts,” Pierre muttered, earning a round of laughter.

Meanwhile, back in your studio, you’d found the missing engagement ring embedded in a chunk of wet clay. You snapped a quick photo of your clay-covered hands, the ring perched delicately on your finger, and sent it to Lando with the message: Found it. Your forgetfulness is rubbing off on me.

Lando responded with a selfie of his own, a defeated look on his face, and the message: The cat’s out of the bag.

You could only laugh, imagining the absolute carnage he was dealing with at dinner.

Now, the question is, how did you guys meet?

Well, let’s take a trip down memory lane, yes?

It started at a karting track in Guildford when they were both nine years old. Lando was already making waves on the circuit, a scrappy kid with untamed curls and an infectious grin. You, on the other hand, were a quiet but fiercely competitive racer, constantly being told you’d never make it because you were a girl.

That day, your paths crossed in the most cliché yet heartwarming way. You’d crashed during qualifying and sat on the sidelines, fuming as you inspected the damaged kart. Lando, fresh off his own session, wandered over with a bag of gummy bears and an awkward grin.

“Want one?” he asked, holding the bag out to you.

You glanced up, unimpressed. “Unless it fixes my kart, no thanks.”

“It doesn’t,” he admitted, plopping one into his mouth, “but they’re good for sulking.”

Reluctantly, you took one. That was all it took. From that day forward, you became friends—rivals on the track, co-conspirators off it. The karting world was small, and you often found yourselves travelling the same circuits, sharing snacks, and occasionally teaming up to prank the other kids.

But all good things come to an end, and for Lando, the end came when you abruptly quit karting at twelve. One day you were there, racing alongside him, and the next, you were gone. No explanations, no goodbyes—just a void where his fiercest rival and closest friend had been.

Years passed. Lando threw himself into racing, climbing the ranks to Formula 1, but he never stopped wondering what had happened to you. He’d hear whispers—something about pottery, about you exchanging one love for another—but nothing concrete.

Then, in 2020, he walked into a pop-up art gallery in London and froze. There, amidst a sea of ceramic sculptures, was a name he hadn’t seen in years: yours. And standing by a display of hand-thrown vases, chatting animatedly with a small group of people, was you.

Lando hesitated, heart pounding as he watched you laugh, looking so effortlessly radiant it hurt. He was a world-famous F1 driver now, but at that moment, he felt like the same awkward boy offering gummy bears to his angry rival.

Finally, he worked up the courage to approach you. “Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Nice vases.”

You turned, your eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, as if no time had passed at all, you grinned. “Nice curls.”

The conversation flowed as easily as it always had. Over coffee the next day, you explained why you’d quit karting. Your parents had pulled you out, worried about the pressure and the toxic environment you were facing as a girl in a male-dominated sport. You’d turned to pottery as an outlet and never looked back.

“I missed it, though,” you admitted, stirring your latte. “I missed racing. I missed… you.”

Lando’s heart clenched. “I missed you too.”

The transition from friendship to romance was seamless, almost inevitable. But given Lando’s high-profile career, you both agreed to keep the relationship private. It wasn’t easy. There were stolen weekends in Monaco, secret visits to your studio in between London and Mexico, and countless moments when you had to play it cool in public, even as your heart raced every time you saw him.

The secrecy was worth it, though. For three years, you built a world of your own, filled with laughter, late-night phone calls, and the kind of love that felt steady and enduring.

The proposal came during a quiet evening at your studio. You’d been working on a commission, hands covered in clay, when Lando appeared in the doorway, looking unusually nervous.

“What’s up?” you asked, wiping your hands on a rag.

He hesitated, then held out a small, unassuming box. “I, uh, thought we could make this official.”

You stared at him, heart pounding. “Lando Norris, are you asking me to marry you in the middle of my studio while I’m covered in clay?”

He grinned, the familiar boyish charm shining through. “Well, I figured it’s where you’re happiest.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Laughing, you took the box, opened it, and saw the ring—simple, elegant, and unmistakably you. Tears filled your eyes as you nodded. “Yes.”

For a while, life went on as usual. You returned to your pottery, Lando to his racing, and your engagement remained a secret known only to close family and a few trusted friends. But secrets have a way of slipping out, and yours did during that fateful post-Silverstone dinner.

By the time Lando returned home to Monaco, the internet was ablaze. He’d soft-launched your engagement on Instagram with a series of photos: your clay-covered hands holding the ring, more of you holding your ring in defeat after possibly losing it, and a final shot of the infamous ‘Lan ♥’ signature on one of your vases.

The caption read: ladies and gents, the chronicles of my fiancée losing her ring. she says that my forgetfulness is rubbing off on her apparently but she sadly chose to say yes to me 😌.

The response was overwhelming. Fans went wild over the reveal, speculating about your relationship timeline and falling in love with the wholesome chaos of it all.

Despite the initial embarrassment, Lando wouldn’t change a thing. Sure, Charles might never let him live it down, and Daniel would probably bring up the ‘wet clay incident’ at every opportunity, but none of it mattered.

As he watched you work on your latest piece, the soft hum of music filling the studio, he felt a sense of peace he rarely found anywhere else. You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring, and flashed him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Back to work, Mr. Norris,” you teased, pointing at the pottery wheel.

He grinned, sliding into the seat beside you. “Yes, ma’am.”

If this was what forever looked like, Lando was more than ready for it.

Because in the end, every gummy bear, every secret, and every chaotic dinner had been worth it.

i hope you guys liked it 🥹 tbh, this was originally a gift for my friend to motivate her but now she wants to actually marry him… i take no part in that declaration.

also, this y’all man 🤨☝🏻 damn, he’s okay, i guess.

i’m still very new here, so, there’s some things i absolutely know nothing about… BUT, i’ll get through it ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-!! i love y’all, strangers ‘round the internet 💌 MWAH!

[haveihitanerve]

The comments were usual. Frequent even. Bruce bore them all with a smile, either acting like a bored teenager forced to attend the events he had planned, or blushing, sculpting the Brucie persona before he had even reached his twenties. 

“Oh Brucie!!!” They would twitter at him, women and men alike, pawing at his arms, his shoulders, chest, some even boldly reaching for his ass, snaking an arm around him, pulling him closer. “You look delicious baby.” They’d murmur, pur, coo over him. 

Alfred would get rightfully angry over the comments, when Bruce told him, but after the anger led to nothing, Bruce stopped coming home with the stories. He just went to bed, showering off all the handprints and touches. 

And then Dick came along.

“Bruuuuuuuuuce!” The nine year old whined, hissing the ending syllable like a snake. “I wanna gooooo!!!” Bruce chuckled lightly, fixing his cuffs in the mirror. 

“I highly doubt it chum.” He murmured, glancing over at his ward, seated on the foot of his bed. Dick pouted, the full package; lip out and arms crossed, and Bruce laughed, walking over to grab his tie and ruffle the boys hair. 

“Its a boring Gala, bud. Not too exciting.” Dick huffed, watching as Bruce expertly wound the tie around his neck, swinging the sides over and through. 

“Its a pARty!” He pointed out. “And I wanna go.” Bruce hummed to show he was listening, buttoning up the bottom two buttons of his suit, before letting his hands drop to his side. 

He sighed. “Do you want to wear a suit?” Dick’s eyes sparked up with excitement before he wrinkled his nose. 

“Do I hafta?” He complained. Bruce laughed, turning to face him. 

“Yes. Its a formal event. Suit, or you’re not coming.” The threat of a suit made the words take a moment to sink in, but once they did Dick rocketeded across the room, flying into Bruce’s arms. 

“For real???” He squealed, all excitement and little kid energy. “Hell yeah!” He bolted out the door to his own room before Bruce could so much as open his mouth to chide “language.” 

The car ride over was a new level of annoyance Bruce didn't know existed, as Dick bounced around in his seat, eagerly looking out the window for the first glimpse of his first “real adult party”. Still, he couldn't help but smile at Dick's unbridled joy.  

Hank, Bruce’s chauffeur, bore all of it with a smile, regaling Dick with stories of picking up Bruce when he was a teenager, and all the college hell, while Dick cackled and Bruce rolled his eyes. But, then again, Hank had his own three kids at home, and was marginally more used to the watts of energy than Bruce was. 

“Here ya are Mr. Wayne.” Hank finally cut off all of Dick’s peppering questions about Bruce’s college stories, a relief, as Hank was really getting into the bad stuff, or in Dicks mind, the good stuff, and Bruce hopped out, opening the door for his son. “Thank you!” Dick twittered as he leapt out, waving. 

Hank chuckled, dipping his hat. “Of course Mr. Wayne, hope you have a fun night.” Dick grinned back, and it surprised Bruce that he was so okay with hank calling him “Wayne.” But, then again, his boy and the driver seemed to have an easier relationship. Bruce certainly wasn't going to call him out. 

It did something to him, flooded his body with something heavy and warm, to hear Dick be called “Wayne”. Maybe a primal thing, an old animal instinct, the need to claim and own and have Dick. Dick was his son, maybe not by blood, but by… everything and anything Dick allowed him to have. 

“B!” Dick chirped, already a few feet up the steps, a frown on his face as he looked back. Bruce realized he’d been lost in thought at the side of the road. 

“Coming chum.” He agreed quickly, hurrying to his wards side before the entered. 

“Woah.” Dick breathed, the second they breached the door, and Bruce silently agreed. Gala’s weren’t fun for a plethora of reasons, but they were always beautiful. 

Almost immediately though, camera’s swarmed him, not only flashes of light but also of sickeningly white teeth, too wide mouths, pale skin pawing for his attention. 

“Brucie, darling!!!” One man twittered, and they successfully separated them, dragging Bruce over to one gaggle of rich twats while a few others circled Dick. Dick seemed to be taking it remarkably well, nodding politely and smiling, shaking hands, but his eyes darted to Bruce every few seconds, questions in his eyes. 

“Excuse me-” Bruce brushed past his virus of people and forced his way beside Dick, kneeling so he was at eye level.

“Everything alright?” he murmured quietly, tucking Dick into his space, warding off others. He almost wanted to say “i told you so” but figured it’d only do more harm than good. Pointing it out when Dick was clearly overwhelmed would not be helpful, or nice in any capacity. 

Dick nodded, shoulders imperceptibly dropping in relief as he allowed himself to be caged by Bruce’s body. “Y-yeah. Fine. Better now.” Bruce let the unspoken words hang between them, “-that you’re here”, and nodded instead, standing. 

“Stay close.” he flicked his fingers and Dick obediently stepped closer, pushing into Bruce’s space with hardly a thought.

And, Bruce realized quietly, he didn't mind either. Having people in his space… touch had never been his thing, after his parents death. Especially not when that touch came from unsympathetic elites after his parents money. But with Dick… it was, easier. Nice. 

The rest of the night went by a little better, and Dick even stepped away a few feet, always close by, but straying enough that he wasn't hiding behind Bruce’s legs. In his shadow. It was then that it happened. 

“Oh aren’t you just beautiful.” The words came from Mrs. Braught, a well known widow with enough wealth to compete with the Drakes, if not Waynes. She was… known for her affinity to younger men, boys, really, and Bruce had only managed to not make the cut because he had known, as a boy, and avoided her, and wasn’t as “appealing” to her, due to his depression. 

Dick stiffened slightly at the words, but still offered her a smile, polite, as always. The reaction made Bruce relax marginally. He was okay, he was handling it, just like Bruce had. 

But… but Dick’s smile was strained, his shoulders inching near his ears, and there was a definite tilt to him, a lean away from Braught that was easy to miss. But not to Bruce. 

Before he knew what he was doing, Bruce was at his wards side- no, in front of him, shoving Dick behind his legs. Dick stumbled, lightly, at the sudden push, but quickly straightened, grabbing the back of Bruce’s coat. The trembling Bruce could feel through the fabric was enough to make him see red. 

The Brucie persona was gone, slipping off without a singe thought, fast enough that Bruce wondered for a fraction of a second if it had even been on when he had entered the Gala, and Bruce realized it wasn't just Dick’s hand trembling, but Bruce’s whole body. 

His fists curled, hard enough that his knuckles turned white, jaw clenched to the point where his teeth squeaked, entire body quivering with rage. 

Mrs. Braught glanced up, surprised, almost caught off guard even, as she realized Brucie Wayne wasn't there for a pleasant hello, but Bruce was there, a man- no, a father, furious at what was being said about his son. 

Bruce could hear, faintly, as though through water, people beginning to whisper, eyes wide as the elites gathered around, no one bold enough to step in, and no one truly believing Brucie would do anything. 

Bruce didn't care. Dick was his, and he would not allow the traumas of the past to repeat, though he had failed to stop him from being orphaned. No more. He vowed, hands fisting at his sides. He had failed Dick in the one, true way that mattered, keeping his family, but he would not fail him any other way. Not in the ways Bruce was failed. 

His hand began to move back on its own accord, when a tiny, stubborn hand caught it, grabbed his wrist. Bruce looked down in surprise to find Dick staring up him solemnly, shaking his head.

Before Bruce could say something, another woman, another widow Bruce recognized as Mrs. Kershaw, stepped forward, fire bright in her weathered eyes. 

“You go on and git out of here Gertrude, before I tar your hide.” She hissed, and Bruce recalled how her own daughter had been raped and murdered when she had been barely thirteen. Gertrude knew it too, and backed away, scurrying for the exit. Mrs. Kershaw made sure she left, eyes kind when she glanced at Bruce, a subtle nod of solidarity her only acknowledgement. 

Dick tugged on his hand, but Bruce ignored him, sending a viscous glare at anyone who dared step too close. 

“Dad.” Dicks voice was soft, so soft, but proud too, grateful. That finally dragged Bruce from his never ending anger, and he looked down. Down at those wide blue eyes, that head of messy black curls.

“Come on Dad.” Dick whispered quietly, eyes darting around nervously at all the people, the cameras, but always going back to Bruce. Meeting his eyes. 

Bruce bent down and scooped his son into his arms, uncaring of who saw, who cared. He blocked his son off from the world, heading for the exit, one of the waitstaff, Aisha, nodding at him to inform him Hank had been called. 

“Thanks Dad.” Dick murmured, face buried against Bruce’s neck, and Bruce’s arms tightened around him, heading out into the streets of Gotham with his son cradled to his chest. 

“I’ll always protect you chum.” He swore, and something in his heart lightened at the Justice he was doing for his son, but also for his younger self. “I will always protect you.” 

thanks to @frownyalfred and @astorianyxkings for the idea!

[almostloverboy]

It was your first time going to your roommate, Tommy’s, gym. You felt a flash of thrill come up your chest as your hand touched the handle and pulled the front door open. You still weren’t passing very well yet, nor were you out to anyone but Tommy, so going to an all men’s gym was something that made your stomach churn. Tommy had told you to walk straight back to the locker room, that he would tell the front desk to expect you on his visitors pass. Just as your hand absentmindedly went to touch the badge hanging off the waistband of your sweats, you made eye contact with the attendant at the front desk. He eyed you suspiciously, but you guessed that your freshly buzzed hair and excessively baggy sweatshirt gave him a clue. He pursed his lips but with a swift nod of his head directed you back to the locker room.

There was only one, and Tommy said he’d meet you in it. When you walked in, you immediately caught sight of his bulky frame casually draped over with some towels coming out of the sauna. His skin practically glowed and you had to take a moment to really appreciate the sea of various gorgeous bodies following suit. There were some guys wrapped in towels as they came out Some guys were brazenly naked, showing off their bare chests or horizontal scars and tdicks and happy trails. The next thing you knew, Tommy was grabbing you by the shoulder. "Admiring the view?" He snickered and you can feel blush burn your cheeks. Maybe you were being a little too obvious with your staring.

Tommy took you to the back, where there were some free lockers. He took your bag and shoved it in, then turned to you expectantly. His arms crossed over his chest like he was waiting for a petulant child. "Well? Strip." You shook your head vigorously and tried to sputter off some excuse about being shy but Tommy was having none of it. "It's just guys here. No need to be weird about it. Nobody's looking but you." Your flush grows hotter but you know Tommy well enough to know that he won't let you weasel out of this so easily. So you drop your sweats, exposing the jock strap you were wearing underneath. What could you say? You were trying something out and your jaw dropped when you saw yourself in the mirror. It made you really feel like a guy. Tommy seemed equally impressed, but was much more fixated on your bare ass. "C'mon. All of it." He muttered breathlessly.

When you glanced over to make sure that there was, in fact, no one watching you strip, you noticed a couple of guys looking over your way. When you caught their eyes, each of their lips pulled up into a playful smirk. One guy whose lower half was covered up by a large gym towel started adjusting it while holding your gaze, opening it just slightly. Maybe it was to show solidarity, but you couldn't take your eyes off where you'd seen the glimpse of his hard cock. You couldn't help but imagine how long he'd been on T to be that big. Like they had a mind of their own, your hands started to pull off your sweatshirt and shirt in one go. You don't even bother to shove it into your locker, it just drops to the floor.

As soon as your taped chest is exposed, you feel Tommy's hands on your now bare hips. You start to move to cover yourself, hyper aware of all of the sexy guys staring you down and just how much more... Like men they looked. As if he could read your mind, Tommy spoke up as he moved to stand behind you. "Whadya think, guys? He's comin' along quite nicely, huh?" You hear a general murmur of agreement that makes you want to cringe away from all the eyes on you, but Tommy grabs your wrists and holds them behind you. You can feel his crotch push up against your bare ass, only shielded by the scratchy white towel.

"I bet those growing pains are a killer." You hear one guy mutter. Another nudges a friend: "You can already see some hair on his stomach." Finally, one guy takes the first step towards you and you're drooling. He's a big guy, and you can tell he spends every day at this gym because his arms make you want to lick them like ice cream. Your knees almost buckle at the sight of his bare body in front of you, but he smiles kindly. "Don't worry, we'll turn you into a real man here. You'll only look like a twinky little fag for a couple'a months more. Soon you'll be a muscular little fag."

The Adonis looks over at Tommy, as if asking permission. You can't see his response, but the guy's arm darts out to snap the elastic of your jock strap, earning him a sharp yelp and your voice cracks. You were surprised, you didn't think your voice had changed at all yet, but some of the guys grinned knowingly. "See? It's workin' already."

Tommy started to tug you toward the showers, and you noticed that there weren't even any walls or curtains between each shower head. There was already someone in there, he was leaning his head back in the stream and sighing as his fingers slid in and out of his cunt. You thought Tommy might notice the interruption and go someplace with some more privacy, but you also guessed after using you as a show for his friends, he didn't have much shame back here. "Hey Jack, why don't you show my roommate here how things go back here?"

The guy only opened his eyes just to roll them in Tommy's direction, but he seemed to comply. "Damn, did you tell him what was happening? This is quite the little outfit he has on. Practically begging to be used..." You can feel Tommy's hands let go of you as Jack ushers you to take over the shower stream he'd been occupying. "Don' worry, I'll be gentle." He muttered as he got to his knees in front of you. The steaming hot water hit your back and you couldn't help but relax at the feeling. It was nice. Jack leads one of your hands to grab at his tits, and your other hand is led back to your ass. "Lube will make the next bit more fun. It's in the dispenser next to you." He said like he'd done it a million times before. Maybe he had.

"I called dibs, Jack, don't use him up yet." As your lubed up fingers slide into your ass, you hear Tommy's voice ring out. You can hardly see him among all the steam, but you can tell he's close to you. "I get to break him in."

[alwaysthefool]

Love Spell (Xavier x Reader/MC)

Tags; angst, pining, comfort, happy ending, MC reader, gn reader

Warnings; ask.

Synopsis: Someone else puts a ‘love spell’ on you and Xavier doesn’t realise it at first, leaving him feeling betrayed and rejected.

Have you ever heard the saying that budding love is like a sonata? It has a soft beginning, a precipice, a rise and fall, and an end that leads to relaxing silence. This was your precipice.

You were sure Xavier would ask you out, as you waited for him under the big oak outside the forest, the Sunday afternoon breeze gentle and solemn. It was definitely a romantic place to meet, the invitation in the form of a letter left on your desk, your heartbeat quickening as you saw a silhouette in the distance.

But the person that appeared in front of you wasn’t Xavier. It was another man, a fellow hunter, someone you’d declined much earlier.

“Hey, what-“ Before you could finish, a pink glowing light from a protocore flashed your eyes, and you felt your entire constitution change.

Xavier, on the other hand, wondering where you were on the day off, went out to look for you, only to find you arm in arm with another man, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“[Name]?” He called you out gently, a lump in his throat. You looked back, your expression cold and indifferent. “Why are you with him?”

“Hm? This is my lover.” You replied, looking up to smile at the man next to you. He chuckled, kissing your forehead, making Xavier clench his fists tightly.

“Have you-“ He began, but watching how happy you looked, he couldn’t go on. “Oh, I wish you the best then.”

Xavier grit his teeth and walked away, angry, dejected, close to breaking. Didn’t you make a promise to him? Weren’t things going smoothly between the two of you? Was he too late again?

It’s fine, he thought, it was better for you that way. You’d be safer with someone else, happier too. He was from your world, he’d understand you better, and it was selfish of Xavier to want you.

He had always been selfish when it came to you.

That night, he did not have the heart to return to his apartment above yours, going to Philo instead, raiding Jeremiah’s fridge for beer.

“No ‘Hi’?” Jeremiah joked, closing the shop early to tend to the pouting prince. Xavier did not respond, chugging the beer, trying very hard to feel the hit.

“It’s non-alcoholic, dude.”

Xavier almost choked, coughing. “You couldn’t tell me earlier?”

“It says so on the package.” Jeremiah held back a laugh, knowing it was trouble in paradise that had his leader in such a mood. He tried to prod, but as usual, Xavier wouldn’t tell him anything, so he looked at your social media instead.

“Who’s this guy?” He exclaimed, disgust on his face. Xavier grabbed Jeremiah’s phone, to see the post of you with that man at a toy store, captioned ‘loml’.

He felt like crying, like screaming, something to get the pain out. Jeremiah tried to stop him as Xavier ran out, turning on his hunter’s watch, doing what he always did.

He fought without a break, without dodging, knowing it was evil of him to try and get hurt so maybe, just maybe you’d care. Maybe you’d visit him at the hospital, and maybe he could change your mind. Maybe there was still a chance. Even though you’d crushed his heart, he would do anything for those little ‘maybe’s.

When he woke up next in the hospital, another hunter was beside him, and Xavier got to know you changed your partners to be closer to him instead.

Do you hate me that much?

Did you have to go so far?

But it was too unlike you to not even visit him at the hospital or leave a text, finally making him sense something was wrong. He had faith in that care you showed him, and your heart that through time and space, had always been a loving one.

No, you wouldn’t do this.

Xavier sprinted out of the hospital bed, ignoring the calls of the other hunter and the nurses, taking a taxi straight to your apartment complex. He had been blocked by ‘you’ everywhere, and looking up the history of your new partner showed a past temporary suspension for using protocore hypnosis, a technique strictly banned by the association.

Xavier did not knock, teleporting inside instead to see you and that man slow dancing in the living room. This time, Xavier showed no restraint, pulling that scammer away from you, and searching him for protocores.

“Xavier, you’re hurt?” You asked, despite your state. Before you could start to plead with him to let you go, Xavier crushed that protocore between his fingers, lifting the trance off of you. You immediately fell unconscious, making him turn all your attention towards you. Although that gave the hypnotist a way out, Xavier knew he wouldn’t be able to run forever.

You woke up groggy, full of disgusting memories with someone you despised, and hyper alert Xavier next to you.

You hugged him immediately, and he hugged back.

“Why didn’t you come earlier?” You scolded, tears in your eyes. Xavier was as angry at himself as you were, so he could just listen, his crushed heart breaking even further. “How could you think I’d run away with another man?”

Xavier pulled away from the hug to look at you, your red and tear stained face. His expression spoke the unsaid apology as you continued.

“Next time you see me with someone else, you have to pull me away! I’m all yours, and if I’m not, then consider I’m being mind-controlled.”

Xavier’s eyes softened at that, as you continued scolding him. You stopped midway, your irritation subdued. “How did you get hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

-x-

Bonus;

As the two of you lay on your bed, finally talking out the feelings you’d been hiding, Xavier wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as he asked. “Did he touch you?”

You felt heat rise up to your cheeks, turning away from him to let him spoon you. “No, we didn’t even kiss.”

“I guess I’ll make it quick then.” Xavier mumbled to himself.

“Huh?”

“Shh… it’s not your worry anymore.”

[l1v1ngd3dgrrl]

Action! [Daisuke x Reader]

AN: You and Daisuke decide to film yourselves going to town...that's about it. This was the winner for the poll I had! Prompt #2 will be posted eventually. I'm ngl I hated how i ended this (I'm sleepy as always)

MDNI banner: Cafekitsune

word count: 1,061

CW(S): Porn without plot, vaginal sex, Unprotected sex, recording a sex tape (is it still a sex tape if it's on a phone? man idfk)

This was all Daisuke's idea.

He had brought up filming yourselves having sex a few times, Promising you that it was for personal use only and that there was no way no how anyone else's eyes were gonna be seeing it (not that you ever doubted him, but he REALLY wanted to drive the point home.)

You agreed, honestly you were about to bring it up to him yourself.

Every time the two of you went to go record it you ended up getting way to into fucking to record anything.

Oh and there was that one time you two almost got caught...

We don't talk about that though.

So here both of you were in his room, lights down low and practically undressed. The stars finally aligning in such a way that allowed the two of you to get down to business.

Some prior teasing left both of you partially undressed, you in one of Daisuke's sweaters, and him in his boxers.

Had you not gently reminded him of recording he would probably still be between your thighs.

While you sat cross legged on the bed, he was propping up his phone on his nightstand trying to get the angle right. Swearing under his breath when the phone toppled over, or something on his nightstand blocked the view.

"You're still okay with this right?" he asked, still adjusting his phone.

"I'm more than okay with it."

You stuck out your hand with your pinky extended. "I pinky promise."

He intertwined his pinky with yours and gave your hand a firm squeeze.

Eventually he got the phone in a good spot.

He pressed record and moved onto the bed with you, Practically vibrating with excitement.

He pressed a few kisses to your lips and down your neck, going back over some of the previously left hickeys just to keep the fire burning.

Neither of you wanted to drag things out too long.

He lay flat on his back, your cue to start moving things down south. You straddled his lags, Your fingertips brushed against his stomach as you moved, causing Daisuke to tense slightly upon contact. You slowly dragged them down towards his boxers, hooking a finger in the waistband and pulling them down.

With Minimal hesitation you wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and enveloped the tip with your mouth, tongue spiraling as you moved your head down. A groan rumbled in the back of his throat as he sat up slightly to get a better better view.

Sure the sensation of getting head was great, But watching you focus so intently on giving him head? Nothing could top that.

He glanced over at his phone, making sure that it was picking everything up.

Oh indeed it was, seeing you from this angle was everything.

He gave a cheeky smile to the camera and resumed his focus on you.

With every bob upwards you hollowed your cheeks, creating an intense suction. Each one caused him to groan and whisper praises to you which only spurred you on further. His head eventually falling back to really soak in the sensation.

As much as you liked giving head, and listening to how he reacted, your jaw was really starting to ache. You held off for as long as you could, wanting to hear Daisuke's soft moans for just a bit longer.

Eventually you pulled off his cock with a wet pop, hand moving up and down his shaft in its place. Panting, You sat back, watching Daisuke's mouth fall open slightly, breathing starting to quicken. An all to familiar sign he was close.

Right before he could cross the finish line you pulled your hand away, "Babe why-" he whined.

"Hush!' you tease, you crawl forward to press a kiss to his lips.

He sits up bit more and holds you close, hands sliding up the sweater and across your bare skin. In a flash he pulls the garment over your head, exposing your body to the slight chill of the bedroom.

You go to scoot back and get ready to ride him until an idea pops in your mind.

"Switch spots with me real quick."

He obeys wordlessly, awkwardly shuffling around till he was behind you.

Instantly his eyes lit up once he realized what you were doing.

You press your chest into the mattress and arch your back, wiggling your hips slightly. Daisuke takes hold of himself and lines up with your entrance.

Much like any other time he enters you slowly, careful not to hurt you. You ease your hips back to meet him, a quiet moan escaping your lips once he's bottomed out.

You were the first to move, thrusting your hips back towards his. A surprised yelp from Daisuke makes you pause and turn your head back to look at him.

"Too soon?"

He nods wordlessly and grips your hips with both hands. "Y-Yeah, gimmie a sec to adjust."

"That's my line!"

A short few moments later and he begins to move, and you're the one who's yelping. His thrusts were harsh, each push and pull of his cock sending bolts of pleasure through out your entire body.

You cover your mouth with one hand to silence your moans which were increasing greatly in volume. However hard you tried the words 'Don't stop' and 'more' still were heard loud and clear by Daisuke.

His hands tightened their grip as he moved his hips faster, moving you in rhythm with his thrusts.

Your removed your hand from your mouth and pushed back towards him more, keening when his cock hit that one spot inside you just right. The familiar coil was so close to snapping, just a couple more thrusts and you were done for.

"Oh fuck," he whines "I'm so close-So fucking close."

"Cum for me baby!" you moan.

With a few more sloppy thrusts you both came, Daisuke's hips stuttering and then coming to a standstill as he spills inside you. You huff, trying to catch your breath.

Without pulling out he moves both of you to lay on your side, him being the big spoon. He clutches you close to his chest, face buried in your neck as you both just soak in the afterglow.

"How mad would you be if I told you that the phone wasn't recording?" You mummer.

"What?!"

[localwebslingers]

The drone actually rested on his hand like it was taking a break and Peter only had further confirmation that they were masters of emotional manipulation. Great ones at that, because they didn't even realize it. They could buzz at him like they wanted him to follow and he would do so all day until they powered down to rest. Assuming that they did that kind of thing in the first place, he hadn't exactly been shown the whole, robotic makeup of their design. Just sat and watched Harry do some minor cleaning and maintenance on a few of them. He looked back to catch the knowing smile but nodded after the question, "A few pretty good ones, actually, sometimes I still go to them to skate around for a little while."

Not as much as he once did, not when he could swing through all of New York and run along the buildings as a way to clear his head now. Motions that were nearly second nature and encouraged by instinct rather than thinking it through when he really got going.

Peter started to offer to show Harry one of the spots the next time he came by before seeing the flash of red and blue just as that same, buzzing sense went off in his head that he'd felt meeting the older Peter the first time. Familiar and weird, some inherent sense of recognition for, apparently, other spider-people. He looked over to see the other land, and watch the eyes on the mask widen with expression as he was looked at. Was the same buzz going off for him or was it just surprise that another person was there? Both seemed pretty possible. A light squeeze was given to the hand in his before Peter spoke up, "But your ninth guess might be kinda close."

It was tense, he couldn't help it, and if he was there to try and help Harry and be supportive, that meant bad jokes to try and cut some of the tension as best he could. The drone also seemed to think that a new person meant the break was over, which was unfortunate and disappointing but probably best for now. Letting him raise the hand slightly, especially when he could see tells of tension and hesitance that were similar to his own, "I'm just here to help go over the information and explain stuff, not here to stir anything up."

|| @inhcritance ||

The drone couldn't investigate him, not like a living creature could... but it could scan him, yes, and it could buzz up to the offered free hand and decide to rest on it, because that had been something a lot of people had commented on, during the first trials... and while it wouldn't let itself be touched outside of the Research Station proper, and would fly off if Peter attempted it, for now it was there, saving energy.

And there, watching Peter and the drone and letting himself be distracted from their upcoming conversation, Harry wished he had Peter's ability for photography, because it was a moment he really wished he could capture properly. But he didn't have it, and selfishly, he really didn't want to let go of him just yet.

"We couldn't have the drones feel abandoned, of course." Harry agreed instead, as he considered Peter's words and offered him a smile that meant he very much knew what Peter was doing, and was thankful for it anyway.

"Did you find any good spots?" He asked, not long before a figure landed on the other side of the rooftop, dressed in red and blue and familiar enough and crouching in a tension that mirrored Harry's as soon as he saw him, and then turned into something far more astonished, the lenses widening as he regarded Peter, then turned towards Harry once more.

"Whatever conclusion you're reaching," Harry told him, not letting go of Peter's hand and not caring if his once-friend noticed, "you're likely wrong." And then, "Ben, this is Spider-Man." And he managed to keep his tone even enough, which he almost congratulated himself for. "Spider-Man, this is Ben. And the situation is serious enough that we should talk. Is the kid coming?"

And Harry didn't miss his universe's Peter's barely hidden tension, even as he stood up, not approaching just yet but very much watching Peter carefully.

"No." Spider-Man said, in the end. "He isn't."

Whether he was busy, or Peter hadn't trusted Harry close to him, he didn't explain.

And for a moment, for a long, terrible moment, Harry felt hurt by the distance, by the distrust, before reminding himself that it had been, and still was, very much his choice.

@localwebslingers

[fake-married-my-dead-fiance]

Awwww. I like that Family by Choice ended with the three of them and then flashed back to the kids.

This drama wasn't perfect, but it was a nice watch and I'd recommend it. The only thing that was missing was a conversation between Ju-won and San-ha about what he went through living with his mom. I felt like he talked to everyone but her! Actually, I feel like I wanted more about San-ha overall, his trauma doesn't feel resolved in the same way as Hae-jun's.

Anyway, you should watch it for the amazing, healing, parenting power of Noodle Dad!

[dood-itsradical]

Cool? Cool.

Pairing: Jake Kim x GN!Reader

Summary: An awkward rendezvous with Big Deal's leader.

Genre/Trope: Friends to enemies to friends to more(?). Non established relationship. Can be viewed as platonic as well.

Warnings: Cussing, self/oc indulgence? (I mostly wrote this for myself), no use of Y/n, MIGHT be OOC Jake (judge them yourself, this my first time writing for Lookism).

A/N: It's been TWO YEARS since I post fanfics so I might be lil stiffy, bare with me chat. I DON'T do request btw!

Masterlist

“Man, so what now? We just…went back to stop being allies?” You questioned bluntly.

It's been a few days since the Hunt for Gun event. Everything went back to how it was. Or some would say, for the better. You weren't exactly on any sides of the crew. Scratch that, you were one of the Workers. And to be fair, you sort of still carry that guilt. Like Samuel, you wanted- no, needed money. Again, scratch that, you aren't exactly like him, God bless. You just have responsibilities at home that need to be taken care of.

Because first of all, being a broke college student got you into this shit and you practically worked your ass for it. You just wanted to pay for your student loans, bills and groceries. Second of all, news flash, Korea ain't as great as influencers described them to be. When you first moved here, you were still expecting the struggles of the norm. Not fighting gangsters. Let alone joining one.

Thirdly, you know basic martial arts. You know what, fuck that. You're actually pretty decent at it. Sparring and training with these dudes around you, paid off. And through the journey you gained friendship, learning to understand different types of people. That includes multiple reality checks, unlocking new traumas as the list goes on. Part of you have thought of the alternatives and the what ifs. While the other half is actually grateful.

“It never has to be that way, you know?” Daniel replied, offering a soft smile.

You wanted to ask if the whole fighting and scheming thing is over, now that Charles Choi is gone. So is the matter of the Red Note. But you keep those questions to yourself, knowing it's far from done when Gun is still alive even if he's in juvie. Besides, he's not the only bad guy they need to watch out for.

You shrugged sheepishly, hands shoving into your pockets. “Right.” Your head turned to the ground for a bit. Daniel senses this and continues, “We're still friends, right?”

You looked up relieved by his words, “Of course. You're cool. You too, Jay.” You added. The blond gave you a big sincere smile as you bent down to pet the puppies. They equally ushered closer for attention. Your expression softened before exhaling.

“Hey.” You started, taking a second to collect your words. “You think Big Deal would diss the hell out of me if I go in their turf? I need to talk to Jake.”

Daniel shrugged back, giving his usual reassuring energy. “I don't think so, after everything. You want us to accompany you there?” You shake your head, mimicking his smile, “I'm good. Thanks though.”

It was by then you found yourself stepping in Big Deal’s street. You weren't a coward, but you still hold respect for each of Four Major Crews. If you are being honest, you didn't even belong here. You're just a person who was caught up with your own personal issues and was left with no options but to use physical violence for your own selfish gain. It wasn't selfish, you told yourself. You just have your own goal and achievement like everyone else.

You were immediately recognised and being semi interrogated by the other Big Deal members due to your sudden and random arrival. You kept your tone as calm as possible. Getting straight to the business and voila! There's Jake.

You muttered a thanks to Jerry before turning to your old friend. Ice breaking sucked, this everyone can relate. But man, you acted like an ex begging to get together with him again. “Sooo……”

You trailed awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere in the room except him. “Big Deal's boss doing paperworks, huh? Guess nobody escaping that.” You tried to humour him, to light up the mood, anything. And luckily, he stifled a chuckle. Or a subtle exhale, you counted it as that either way.

“Yeah, well, it's my responsibility now.” Jake replied, shifting in his chair while leaning back.

To put it simply, you and Jake aren't completely strangers. You two were somewhat colleagues, let's put it that way. You never dare ask about the friendship part. Are you two even friends? Buddies? Amigos?

I mean you're very much aware of Big Deal's history. Jake isn't so secretive, mind you. You've privately met Sinu himself before, good man. You're most definitely familiar with Samuel. And by God, you weren't very fond of him. But you didn't judge him either, and as mentioned, everyone here has a personal goal. You've managed to exchange conversation with him from time to time. If I may say so myself, a LOT. Boy, was he an interesting character.

When you first joined Workers, you were clueless. Eugene offered you good deals. Obviously you hesitated in the begining. You were no fool, you knew what you signed up for. Fortunately for you, you weren't involved too much. You did side jobs, mostly undercover. When Jake finds out, he confronts you. Which actually surprised you. You fought him. You fought everyone else while sticking to the white uniform. Although he can definitely tell you held back at that moment.

“No hard feelings, Jake.” You said back then before getting into stance. You took his hit many times, hardly using your full strength before discovering you were just buying him time to let others finish their business. And he didn't blame you either. He felt bad. Guilty even, that he couldn't offer you better hospitality, better support. And yes, he admits that he was kinda cold back then. He never gets the chance to apologize. But he does now as you basically presence yourself to him.

“You aight? You know, after all the…” You trailed, subtly recalling the recent fiasco. He blinked before nodding, “Just peachy. You?” You nodded back. “Yeah.”

As if it couldn't get any awkward, you were starting to regret showing your face here. On top of that, he wasn't any near being his suave self. He had it fine with the others but with you? There's an unfinished business. He thought it's odd. It's exactly the same scenario that happened between him and Samuel, yet the tension wasn't supposed to be this palpable as far as he know.

“I'm sorry-” You both said in sync, now looking at each other weirdly. Chuckling nervously, you both did it again, “You first. No, you. Not me, you. Fuck.”

Sighing, you both let out small genuine laughters. “No, seriously. You first.” he offered.

You nodded, “No hard feelings, right?”

He smiled, “No hard feelings. It's good to see you again.” You returned the smile, the burden finally left your shoulders. “Same here. You didn't break a bone. I'm not surprised.”

He leaned forward, folding his arms on the desk. His arms bulging through the fabric doesn't go unnoticed. “Well, colour me surprised. You didn't either.” He joked back. His mood has lifted as did yours. You rolled your shoulders, pretending to flex slightly. “I tried.”

“Say,” Your expression turned slightly serious, still with a bit of amusement in your tone. “I guess I owe you a jack of explanation, huh?”

He tilted his head, “Oh? Do you, now? Lemme check.” He pretended to go through his paperworks. You just chuckled, shaking your head at his sense of humour. “Asshole. I'm serious.”

Jake faced you again, “I know. And I'm listening. We can get food while we're at it.”

“Let me guess, my treat?” You raised a brow.

He gets off from his seat, his duty now left abandoned. “C’mon, I'm not a monster.” Slinging his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the exit.

[moowmoon]

LOVE'S MELODY

— aaron hotchner x toretto!fem!reader

— summary: after a long day at bau, aaron wants nothing more than to dance with his partner.

— c/w: fluff, just pure fluff.

— w/c: 1k

— a/n: hi! how are you guys doing? this is my fic entry to margovember, hosted by the amazing margot aka @pathologicalreid! this fic is also in my toretto!reader universe and, of course, i made aaron being a little bit swiftie (i'm new to this world, so please be nice with me) and have "cruel summer" as his favorite song! i hope you guys like it and let me know your thoughts, my ask box is always open to talk/share things! english is not my first language, so forgive me if there are any mistakes!

The room was plunged into a cozy dimness, illuminated only by the warm light coming from the lamp in the corner of the room. The soft sound coming from outside contrasted with the comfortable silence that filled the space; it was almost ten at night, and the city's nightlife seemed to have taken a day off. On the sofa, Aaron was sitting with a cup of tea in his hands, his shoulders finally relaxed after a long day at work.

She was lying with her head in his lap, leafing through a worn paperback, but the silence between them was like a silent embrace. A small smile appeared on Aaron's lips as he observed the tranquility of that moment. Then, without warning, an idea flashed through his mind like a bolt of rare spontaneity.

“How long has it been since we danced together?” he asked, his voice low but full of lightness.

She raised her head in surprise. “Dancing? Here?”

Aaron took a small sip of his tea before standing up carefully, moving towards the corner where the small, delicate speaker rested. With a few taps, music began to fill the room, the familiar melody bringing back memories of old stories and laughter that were hard to forget. He turned, holding out a hand with a shy but inviting smile.

“That song again?” she asked, laughing softly.

Aaron turned around with a twinkle in his eye. “Why not? Do you have something against the best dance song of all time?”

“Not exactly…” she stood up from the sofa, crossing her arms, an amused expression on her face. “But I remember well the last time you called it 'the best song'.”

Aaron frowned for a moment, pretending not to remember, before letting out an almost inaudible laugh. “It was at Dave's wedding, wasn't it?”

“Exactly. And I swear you stepped on my foot at least three times.”

“It wasn't that bad,” he retorted, but the slight redness in his cheeks said otherwise. “This time, I promise I'll make it up to you.”

“Let's see if practicing has really improved your performance.” she commented, moving closer to him.

With a deliberate gesture, Aaron held out his hand, a rare, relaxed smile lighting up his face. “Come on, I promise I won't step on your toes… several times, just a few.” 

She laughed, accepting the invitation — after all, it was hard to turn down an offer when Aaron smiled like that, so inviting and sincere. “I don't know what's more surprising: you're asking me to dance or trying to make a joke.”

“I'm full of surprises,” he retorted, gently pulling her towards the center of the room.

The music lulled their movements, but the initial rhythm was anything but elegant and coordinated. Aaron tried to lead, but his steps were so out of sync that everything went wrong. They bumped into each other, tripped over their own feet, and a laugh escaped her lips.

“Hotchner, you're terrible at this!”

He arched an eyebrow as they tried to adjust their rhythm. Even so, the steps were still clumsy, as if they were dancing for the first time. In a particularly comical moment, Aaron took an exaggerated turn, almost knocking them both over.

“Okay, now you're just making up moves!” she said, grabbing his shoulder to regain her balance.

Aaron smiled, his eyes shining with a joy that seemed as rare as it was precious. “It doesn't matter if we're off the pace. As long as we're together, everything will be perfect.”

The laughter began to subside, giving way to calmer, deeper breathing that matched the tempo of the music. Aaron watched her, her eyes reflecting a mixture of amusement and tenderness that made the atmosphere seem even cozier.

Her previously clumsy movements began to align themselves naturally, almost effortlessly. He wrapped one of his hands around her waist, while the other rested gently on her shoulder. She, in turn, slid her hands to Aaron's chest, leaning on him as if there were no safer place in the world.

Music filled the space around them, but the sounds seemed distant as if the moment belonged only to the two of them. Neither of them spoke, but the looks they exchanged said it all. The weight of everyday life, worries, and responsibilities seemed to dissipate, replaced by a quiet, deep connection.

Aaron tilted his head, resting his forehead against hers, his movements now so slow that they hardly seemed to be dancing. “I needed that.” he murmured, his voice low and husky, like a confession.

“Me too.” she replied, a soft smile forming as her arms now circled his waist.

And so they continued to sway to the music, leisurely, enjoying the comfort of being exactly where they belonged: in each other's arms.

The last note of the song hung in the air before disappearing completely, leaving the room plunged into a comfortable silence. But Aaron and his partner were still there, hugging each other, swaying gently as if the melody was still there, playing just for them.

Aaron's eyes were closed, his breathing calm as he rested his chin on the top of her head. The warmth of the moment seemed to arrest time, making everything slower, and more meaningful.

“You dance better without music.” she joked softly, her voice almost a whisper, laden with affection.

Aaron laughed softly, a sound so rare that his partner couldn't help but smile in response. He tilted his head, meeting the other's gaze, and the intensity there spoke more than any words could.

“Thank you for that.” he said, his voice low but full of sincerity.

“For dancing?” she asked.

“For reminding me what it's like to feel light.” he replied, a small but genuine smile forming on his lips.

She held his face gently, her thumbs tracing slow circles on Aaron's cheekbones before placing a light kiss on his lips. “Whenever you need me.”

Finally, they parted slowly, as if the moment called for caution, and returned to the sofa. Aaron settled down, pulling her close. The forgotten book was taken up again, but now the tranquility had a new weight: a comforting presence, woven by dance and shared intimacy.

[shadowybasementwitch]

Cherry Blossoms and Sarcasm

Tags: gojo × reader, gojo,fluff

Wirings: None

---------------------------------------------

The dim light of the Tokyo evening filtered into the common room of Jujutsu High’s dorms. You sat on the couch, comfortably sandwiched between Nobara and Yuji, with Megumi lounging nearby on a chair, flipping lazily through a book. The usual chatter had simmered down, leaving the room filled with a content hum of camaraderie—until Yuji broke the silence.

"Hey, (Y/N), you and Gojo-sensei have known each other forever, right?" Yuji asked, leaning forward with that curious grin of his.

"Forever feels dramatic," you replied with a chuckle, though your lips tugged upward at the thought. "But yeah, we met back in school when we were both sixteen."

Nobara’s eyes lit up, and she elbowed you playfully. "Oh, you have to tell us how you two became a thing! There’s no way he didn’t do something ridiculously over-the-top to win you over, right?"

Megumi let out an exaggerated sigh, but you caught the flicker of curiosity in his gaze. He wasn’t going to admit it, but he wanted to hear the story too.

“Well…” you began, leaning back into the couch as memories flooded in. “It all started in the spring of our second year.”

---

The cherry blossoms had just started to bloom, their petals creating a soft pink carpet on the courtyard ground. It was your first week back at Jujutsu High after recovering from a mission injury, and you'd just been cleared to train again. You were determined to make up for lost time—until a familiar, infuriating voice called out behind you.

“Hey, slowpoke! Back on your feet, huh?”

You turned to see Satoru Gojo strolling toward you, his hands shoved lazily into his pockets. His signature blindfold was tilted slightly, letting you glimpse those electric blue eyes that somehow managed to be both mesmerizing and endlessly smug.

“I was wondering how long you’d milk that injury for.”

Your jaw dropped, a mixture of disbelief and annoyance bubbling up. “Excuse me? I wasn’t milking anything, Gojo. Some of us actually take our recovery seriously.”

He smirked, completely unfazed. “Relax, I’m just saying you’re tough. But if you want to spar and prove me wrong…”

And that’s how it started. What was supposed to be a straightforward sparring session quickly turned into a battle of wills. Gojo was relentless—teasing, taunting, but never letting up. By the time you managed to land a solid hit on him, you were both panting and laughing like idiots, sprawled on the training mat.

“Not bad, (Y/N),” he admitted, grinning as he rubbed his arm where you’d hit him. “Maybe you’re not as boring as I thought.”

You rolled your eyes, throwing a stray blossom petal at him. “And maybe you’re not as unbearable as I thought. But only maybe.”

---

“Wait, wait,” Yuji interrupted, laughing. “You’re telling me that Gojo-sensei flirted with you by insulting you during training?”

Nobara groaned, slapping her forehead. “Of course he did. What an idiot.”

“Let her finish,” Megumi said quietly, his tone neutral, though you caught the faintest hint of intrigue.

You smiled, continuing. “That was just the start. Over the next few weeks, he kept finding excuses to hang around me—whether it was challenging me to sparring matches or stealing my snacks during breaks. It was… annoying, honestly.”

“Annoying?” Nobara repeated, raising an eyebrow. “But also kind of cute?”

You laughed. “Looking back, maybe. But at the time, I wasn’t sure what his deal was. Then, one night, we got sent on a mission together—just the two of us. That’s when everything changed.”

---

The mission was supposed to be simple: exorcise a low-level curse haunting an old shrine. But, of course, things went sideways. The curse turned out to be stronger than expected, and it ambushed you before either of you could react.

You fought hard, but it managed to pin you down, its claws inches from your throat. Before you could panic, a flash of blue light tore through the air, obliterating the curse in an instant.

When the dust settled, Gojo was crouched beside you, his usually cocky expression replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, almost hesitantly, he reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. “You scared me back there, you know.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I didn’t mean to.”

He smiled, but it was different this time—smaller, more genuine. “I know. Just… don’t do it again, okay? I don’t think I could handle losing you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for far too long. You didn’t know what possessed you, but before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks for saving me, Satoru.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for once, he was completely speechless. But then that familiar grin crept back onto his face. “So… does this mean you like me?”

You groaned, standing up and brushing off your uniform. “Don’t push your luck.”

---

“And that’s how it happened,” you finished, smiling fondly at the memory. “After that, things just… fell into place.”

Yuji was practically vibrating with excitement. “That’s so cool! I can’t believe Gojo-sensei actually has a romantic side!”

Nobara sighed dramatically. “I still think he’s an idiot, but I’ll admit, that’s kind of sweet.”

Megumi, ever the stoic one, simply closed his book and stood up. “Sounds about right. He’s always been ridiculous, but at least he picked someone who can keep up with him.”

You laughed, watching as he walked toward the door. “High praise coming from you, Megumi.”

He glanced back, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

As the others continued to chatter, you found yourself smiling. Being with Gojo was never easy, but as you thought back to those early days, you couldn’t imagine your life any other way.

_____________________________________

End

[rose24207]

i love mafia!lando omg😭 how about something more bad/slightly bad happens(idk like someone try breaking in or something like that) and we get to see lando all protective and then later y/n calms him down

Right time

Summary: When an intruder threatens your life, Lando's protective instincts take over as he saves you and vows to eliminate any danger, all while you help him find solace in the aftermath.

Genre: Mafia!Lando, angst

TW: Mafia, knief, gun

A/N: Thank you for the request!! I hope you like it and it is how how imagined it!! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The house felt too big, too quiet. You told yourself for the fifth time that night that everything was fine, that Lando had promised to be home soon.

Still, your eyes flicked to the front door every few minutes, and your grip on the blanket tightened each time you thought you heard something outside.

He hadn’t told you much about the threats against you, only that they were serious and that he’d take care of it. But Lando’s overprotective streak didn’t leave much to the imagination.

They wouldn’t dare come here, you thought, trying to reassure yourself. Lando had always kept his world separate from yours—or so he tried to.

But as the clock ticked past midnight, a faint noise shattered that illusion.

The sound of glass breaking came from the back of the house. Your heart skipped a beat, and you sat up, holding your breath.

It could’ve been something outside, something harmless—but then you heard the unmistakable creak of the back door opening.

Someone was inside.

You scrambled off the couch, fumbling for your phone on the coffee table. Your hands trembled as you unlocked it and pulled up Lando’s number, but before you could hit call, a hand clamped down on your wrist, yanking you back.

Your phone fell to the floor with a clatter as you were spun around to face a man—tall, muscular, and radiating menace.

His grip on your arm was bruising, and his dark eyes scanned you like a predator sizing up its prey.

“You must be her,” he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

“Let me go!” you struggled, trying to yank your arm free, but he only tightened his hold, pulling you closer.

“Shame. I almost feel bad about this,” he said, though his cruel smirk told you otherwise. “But orders are orders.”

Your stomach twisted in terror as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a knife. The blade caught the faint light of the TV screen, gleaming ominously.

“L-Lando’s going to kill you,” you stammered, hoping to scare him, but he only chuckled darkly.

“Not if I finish my job first.”

The blade moved closer, and panic surged through you. You screamed, loud and piercing, hoping that someone—anyone—might hear.

The tires of Lando’s car screeched to a halt outside the house. He hadn’t felt right about leaving you tonight, and now, as he stepped out of the car, something felt off.

The house was too dark, too quiet. His stomach churned, and his hand instinctively went to the gun tucked into his waistband.

Then he heard it—your scream.

Pure adrenaline coursed through him as he sprinted to the door, flinging it open.

His eyes scanned the room in a flash, taking in the overturned furniture and the man holding you by the arm, a knife pressed dangerously close to your throat.

The world narrowed to two things: you, terrified and struggling, and the intruder threatening your life.

“Get your hands off her!” Lando roared, his voice filled with a fury that shook the walls.

The man froze for a split second, but that was all Lando needed. In an instant, he had his gun drawn, aiming directly at the intruder’s head.

The man smirked, trying to act unaffected. “You’re quick, Norris. But not quick enough.”

Lando didn’t hesitate.

He fired a shot just to the left of the man’s head, the bullet embedding in the wall with a deafening crack.

The sound made the intruder flinch, loosening his grip on you just enough for you to wrench yourself free and stumble back toward Lando.

“Get behind me,” Lando ordered, his voice sharp but protective.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

The intruder raised his hands, stepping back slightly. “You’re going to regret this,” he sneered. “We’re not done.”

Lando’s aim didn’t waver. “Oh, we’re done. And if you so much as look in her direction again, I’ll make sure no one ever finds you.”

The man hesitated, clearly weighing his options. Lando cocked the gun again, his eyes dark with fury. “Leave. Now.”

The intruder didn’t dare test him further. With one last glare, he turned and bolted out the door.

The moment he was gone, Lando turned to you, his hands gripping your shoulders as his eyes scanned you for injuries.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly despite his effort to stay calm.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “No, I—I’m okay.”

His jaw tightened, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it almost hurt. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I should’ve been here. I should’ve—”

“Lando, stop,” you said, your voice shaky but firm. You pulled back just enough to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. “You were here when it mattered. That’s all that matters.”

His green eyes were glassy as they met yours, the adrenaline still coursing through him. “I could’ve lost you,” he whispered.

“But you didn’t,” you said softly. “I’m here. I’m safe. Thanks to you.”

His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “I’m never leaving you alone again,” he vowed.

You smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “I’m okay now. But Lando… you need to calm down.”

He let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling slightly as he lowered them to his sides. “I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened.”

“Don’t,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “You stopped it. That’s what matters.”

You guided him to the couch, sitting beside him and holding him close. His head rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension slowly leaving his body as you ran your fingers through his curls.

“We’ll get through this,” you whispered. “Together.”

And for the first time that night, you felt him relax, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like his lifeline.

Thank you for reading!

[takaraphoenix]

I love how, when I started reading DC Comics, I was very eager to Get The Whole Picture.

Start at the beginning, work my way through chronologically. Crossover event? Gotta get onto that. Something happens somewhere else but affects the continuity I am reading? Better check that out too.

And now, two years in, I have learned to just... roll with the punches because half the time, the punches don’t matter anyway.

Lisa Snart died. And then she came back. Barry... uh... disappeared or died or potentially both but hey nah he’s fine, he killed death and is back with a vengeance. Bart gets horrifically murdered but eh he’s gonna be fine I saw him earlier in Dark Crisis. Roscoe Dillon died like at least three times by now that bitch just won’t stay dead.

In theory, I was very much aware of the fact that DC reboots and throws Crisis events that shuffle canon around like it’s hard candy on Carnival. Yet, inexplicably so, I kind of still somehow expected a bit more, I don’t know, consistency I guess? Like, for it to not be as frequently rewritten as it is, or that the dead-oh-no-kidding-I’m-back plots would be, uh, a little less overused.

But it’s all just one big chaotic mess. So if, say, Outsiders Vol 3 just casually throws a “yeah, Conner died” at me, I’m like, sure, why not, I know he’s gonna get better, I’ll just... not... worry about whatever that is, or where that happens. If it’s really a big deal, it will find its way into my reading list. If not, let’s move on to when he’s back alive again”.

This mentality has proven to be vital for my sanity, actually.

[khaotunq]

One Year of Only Friends ○ Ray Pakorn Edition Episode Five ○ original air date September 9th, 2023

[welcometogrouchland]

(ID in alt) I literally said I was gonna post this month's ago and then never had the wherewithal to describe it and so I didn't Lmao (said with pain). But since I'm thinking of opening my commissions I figured I should remind ppl that I. Yknow. Can draw.

Lots of Steph here (I had major art block making all of these and my brain worms for her kept me going) + some sprinkles of stephcass for Cass nation to enjoy!

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i've been thinking about this one again a LOT so:

Eddie never said anything about the letters.

Not that Wayne wanted him to, just a fact of the matter.

And consequently, Wayne forgot about them until about five years later.

He's older now, so's Eddie. Along with the added years of experience came the fame. The billboards, the charts, the money, all that good stuff.

His nephew, no, his son was thriving, loving every minute. One album under his belt and another on it's way.

The final show of this tour wound up in Indianapolis, so Wayne made the trek north to see Eddie for the first time in about three years at that point, getting ushered back stage as soon as his ticket was scanned ("You ain't payin' for shit, boy. Lemme support you how I can.").

"Right through here, Mr. Munson." The stagehand gestures him forward through a door and he's immediately accosted by a flying head of curls.

"Jesus Christ Ed, I ain't as spry as a use'ta be!" he complains, grabbing the kid up in a hug.

"I know," he says over Wayne's shoulder, "Jeff only just convinced me not to jump."

"And for that, I thank 'im." Wayne lets him go, looking around the room. "Nice place y'got here. A bit small, but it's nice."

Eddie rolls his eyes, "Ha Ha Ha."

They spend a good half hour catching up on things, then, after the same stagehand gives them the "Five minutes Mr. Munson." warning, Wayne finds himself in the wings in front of an absolutely jam-packed stadium.

Now he loves his nephew, don't get him wrong, but his music was never much Wayne's speed. Charlie Daniels, Dolly, Clarence Clearwater? absolutely. Eddie's deafening guitar and pyrotechnics? ... well, he loves the kid...

All this to say that even knowing how well Eddie's done for himself now, how well his album sold, how many people are here, it surprises the hell outta him when the entirety of the sold out show screams for an encore Eddie says "isn't like anything you just heard, but it's pretty important to me if you care to stay."

Jeff comes off the stage, gestures for Wayne to take off his construction-grade noise cancelling headphones, and says "You'll wanna hear this one."

Wayne shrugs, passes the headphones to the first person that reaches for them, then turns his attention back to the stage as Eddie gets comfortable on a stool without his beloved sweetheart.

"Yeah, I know right? Far cry from my baby, huh?" he laughs, showing off the acoustic in his arms to the whole place.

It's only when he shows the thing to Wayne's side of the throng that he can see the flash of white on the black face.

It's his acoustic. His as in Wayne's before, his as in it's Eddie's now, the one that's had 'This machine slays dragons' scrawled onto it for a couple decades now at this point.

Wayne's heart swells at the sight.

"Now, like I said, this is nowhere near the show you came for, but I've got a special someone here tonight and this song is for them." Teasing oohs and wolf whistles sound across the crowd as Eddie nods, "Mmhm, mhmm, that's correct, my Uncle's here tonight."

The gathered masses howl with laughter at that and Wayne can't help but join in.

"So, to preface this, I left home with a stick up my ass about how no one understood me in my tiny hometown, not that far from here, actually, and my dear Uncle Wayne just nodded at me, let me bitch and complain, and said 'See ya.'."

More laughter echoes up at him.

"Come to find out, he'd been saving me money for years before that, for just such an occasion. Do you wanna know when I found this out?" he nods sagely at the noisy response, "Yep, correct, I found out a month ago when I finally went through that one box that'd been haunting the back of my closet."

Eddie looks back to where Wayne is standing out of sight, "You couldn't have said something? There was a whole grand in that envelope!"

He grins as the crowd jeers and playfully boos along with Eddie, then just shrugs at his nephew.

Eddie rolls his head around as he turns back to the crowd. "Anyway, Wayne, this one's for you."

To say the song was not at all what Wayne expected would be an understatement. The one of the century.

He expected a few alternating chords and more jokes on his behalf that he'd have to rib Eddie for later or something of the sort.

No chance in hell he'd ever expect this.

Nor did he think he'd get all misty-eyed.

Wayne recognizes some of the things he'd written into the letters, some things he's sure he'd told Eddie in the first couple years of him living with him...

When the song is over, the people there for his nephew cheer sky high for him. Chant Wayne's name until he makes his appearance, striding out under the lights to hug his son in front of everyone else who loves him.

(and then eddie sends him all the copies of the magazines and papers the picture of them hugging on stage in front of thousands gets printed in. the one that makes it into a frame and onto the wall, however, is a clipping that says Eddie Munson plays heartfelt ballad for his Uncle, Wayne Munson, who (according to one fan present at the show) "looks exactly like I thought he would.".)

more munsons | my ko-fi | my other works

you're gonna go far

eddie & wayne picture fic based on this post

(long post ahead, but bear with me)

4/10/1984 Eddie,  I’m starting this letter after you came home with the letter from the school saying you’re not graduating this year.  I could tell you didn’t believe me when I told you it’ll be alright, that it’ll all work out in the end. That it did for me when I had the same talk with my pa.. but you eventually stepped back from the edge, I think, you’re in your room now. There was something else there too, which is really why I'm writing this now. You have the same look in your eye that I saw in my own reflection long before I got drafted, the look I saw in your dad’s when Lizzie told us she was pregnant.  You’re already planning your escape.  And I won’t hold it against you when you do kick rocks, I just pray you give me a little warning so I can say goodbye. And I ain’t a praying man. I’m tucking away some cash with this for when you go. Don’t have much, but I have you. And I wanna make sure you have the best start you possibly can.

10/11/1984 It’s been rough for you again. Working at Merrill’s has been good for you. Getting fresh air, sunshine, shit, even your gangly noodles you call arms are looking less noodley. But they just sent you home early today.. something wrong with the crop and they won’t need the extra hands this season. That, starting school again, even Ronnie leaving last week.. I know you two kids were close. You ain’t even getting all excited for halloween! Adding some more cash for you, little more than I could last time.  Just hang in there kiddo. 

6/5/1985 I think you think you don’t know, and I’m willing to let you pretend for a little while longer, but shit, Eddie, you think I wouldn’t know when graduation was supposed to be just because you weren’t the one to tell me? You know I won’t be mad at you. If you don’t say anything for another week, I will. 6/7/1985 - There it is.

7/22/1985 I was able to talk you down again that night, and you ‘re getting back to your old self again. I still can’t believe you had your whole room all packed up like that. I’ll give ya that speech all over again as many times as you need, but I’ll write it down here for you: You’re gonna go far, Eddie. You’re gonna tear outta here next year and you’re gonna knock ‘em all dead. You are so talented, you are much more than any of us Munsons have ever been or will ever be, and you’re gonna be the biggest star in the world. You mark my words. And I know you’re gonna fight leavin’ when the time comes, thinking you need to take care of me or some crap but I promise you: The birds’ll still sing, the trailer will still creak, the leaves will die and fall like they do every year, but I’ll be here whenever you need to come back. I’ll be here as long as you need. If that’s forever, so be it.

8/15/1985 I’m taking you up north this weekend. Just to get away, y’know? Before your LAST senior year starts. Might be cutting it a little close on funds, happens when you’re trying to survive, but we’re overdue for a change of scenery. We ain’t living just to die. Only a little going in this time, but I’ll be damned if I don’t add something along with a new note.

10/5/1986 Been a while since I added to this, huh? Well, it’s finally happening. You are leaving tomorrow and boy did you make a stink before you did. Went on a whole tirade about needing to get out of this damn town, about not being able to get anywhere when everyone except me is against you. I wanted to point out that you’ve got your band guys and that Harrington boy in your corner too, but I didn't think you’d like me interrupting your whole big speech about who it is you love and being queer and all that with a “Yeah. I know. You and Steve make moon-eyes at each other all the damn time.” I’ll make sure to pass on your info to him when I get it. He doesn’t seem like one to hold a grudge (or at least not hold it long), so I'm sure he’ll be the first in line to greet you the next time you find yourself in our neck of the woods. Those kids’ll miss you too y’know. They’ll be college age before you know it. I’m gonna pack up this envelope and stash it in your stuff somewhere I know you’ll find it again. so you can find it when you need it. Can’t believe I managed to save you close to a grand. Not enough by a long shot, but it’ll help ya for a while. Been saving for a years now, y’know..  Now Eddie. I told you all this last year, and just now before you slunk off to bed, but here it is again, just in case you need to hear it: - I’m proud of you. - I love you more than you’ll know. - You love whoever it is you want to love (as long as i’m on that list somewhere) - I’m glad you’re getting out of here when you can. And I’ll continue to be glad that you did even when things get hard. When I’m doing all the chores around here myself, when I go visit Al in county even though I know all we’re gonna do is fight… I’ll be so grateful you’re making your own way in the world far from here. I’m not angry at you, Teddy. But you’ll be the greatest thing I’ve lost. I’ll always be here if you need me. Wayne

some notes!

-i hc wayne as a military man ofc and bc of that, my own sloppy, all caps, post military handwriting is perfect for him!

-i like to think eddie thinks he's slick and wayne didn't know he liked boys until he was about to leave but wayne knows. of course he knows. al told him why he kicked eddie out, wayne just didn't think it was his place to bring it up before eddie did.

-didn't think too much farther after this, but let's just say that steddie happens when eddie comes back to hawkins in a couple years when the shitheads graduate.