#literally knocked it out of the goddamn park

[baladric]

the force w which i am now recommending the last binding series, bc what a phenomenal fucking ending holy shittt, please go check freya marske out if you haven't already!!!

[kingkilling-and-stormlight]

did I stay up until 2 am on christmas eve night to watch Glass Onion after extended family festivities ended?

Yes.

do I regret it?

No.

[gamergirl929]

When You're With Him Do You Call His Name? (Like You Do When You're With Me?) (Alex Morgan x Reader)

It was no surprise to you that after you hooked up with Alex Morgan once, that she wanted to do it again, what you expected was just sex, but in reality, something more was developing between the two of you, and neither knew how to handle it.

Disclaimer: This fic is a continuation of Hate Me, Hate Me (Chase Me, Chase Me) and is almost entirely smut with a g!p reader, so if this isn't your thing, feel free to skip, otherwise, please enjoy and let me know what you think! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Ah, fuck.”  

You groan loudly your back arching as Alex rides you senselessly, her eyes squeezed shut, her brow furrowed.  

As you’d expected, Alex had indeed wanted to have sex with you again, and again, and again, and again the woman seemingly unable to get enough of you and the appendage between your legs. 

You pepper her breasts with kisses before sucking a pink nipple into your mouth, her back arching as her fingers tangle in your hair, the woman holding you in place.  

Thankfully, you’d parked in the back of a secluded parking lot, the bouncing of your car and the foggy widows unnoticed by anyone around you.  

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so deep.” She moans, her back arching as she bounces on your cock.  

“You can’t get enough of me, can you?” You ask, the woman giving your hair a rough tug.  

“Shut up.” She growls, her growl turning into a guttural moan as you thrust up into her, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.  

Your own breath catches in your throat, the base of your member pulsing, your climax fast approaching.  

Alex stiffens without warning, the woman moaning loudly, her walls clamping down around you as she orgasms, her body trembling wildly.  

You groan, continuing to thrust up into her, her hands fisting your hair before she’s crying out even louder than before.

“Goddamn.” You groan through gritted teeth, your hips canting upwards as you come, your seed again spilling inside her, something you’d found out she craved the feeling of.  

“Christ.” Alex pants, gently caressing your scalp as her hips still, the two of you panting heavily, the windows of your car completely fogged.  

“Does your husband fuck you as good as I do?” You ask, snorting when she gives your head a shove.  

“Shut up.” She growls, whimpering as she leaves your lap, your flaccid member slipping out of her, a literal mess in your lap.  

“He must not, because you’re always coming back for more.” You smirk, the woman sending you a glare as she hastily puts her clothes back on and leaves your car, a grin stretching across your face as you watch her go, knowing full well that she would be back.

************************************************************************Unfortunately for you, Alex didn’t come back, at least not right away, your words striking a nerve in her. 

In all honesty, her and Servando hadn’t been all that intimate in months, the woman unable to feel the way she use to feel when he was inside her. 

Faking an orgasm wasn’t something Alex enjoyed, but here as of late, the only person who could make her orgasm was you.  

You were absolutely right when you said she couldn’t get enough of you, because she couldn’t, the forward wanting to tear your clothes off every single chance she got.  

It was almost as if she couldn’t help herself, she was addicted, addicted to you, and the way you felt buried inside her.  

She absolutely couldn’t get enough.  

That want was what lead her to your apartment nearly two weeks later, the woman knocking on the door gently, eager to have you buried inside her again. 

The door swings open a moment later, your eyes widening when you realize who’s standing on the other side.  

“I wasn’t expecting a house call.” You smirk, Alex rolling her eyes before shoving you into your apartment, her lips meeting yours the second the door is shut.  

Her tongue pushes its way into your mouth flicking against and caressing your own, your hips arching when she rubs you through your sweats.  

She backs you against a nearby wall, the two of you kissing wildly as she tugs your sweats down, along with your boxers. 

She wraps her hand around your member, pumping it softly, your back arching as you lean heavily into the wall behind you.  

“Fuck Al.” You moan as she relentlessly strokes you until you’re fully erect.  

“There we go.” She whispers, guiding you down the wall before she’s shimmying out of her own bottoms.  

She was embarrassingly soaked, her essence dripping down her thighs, a sight that made your smirk split into a cocky grin.  

Alex lets out a yelp when you spring to your feet, grabbing her and placing her on the back of the couch, her legs wide.  

“All that for me?” You ask, dropping to your knees, your tongue running through her folds.  

“Oh my god.” Alex cries out, her back arched as you lick her wildly, your nose brushing her clit as you devour her.  

Her fingers tangle in your hair as her thighs begin to quiver, her climax approaching embarrassingly fast. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” She chants, her body already beginning to tremble. 

“Y/N!” She cries out as she orgasms, her eyes rolling back in her head, her toes curling painfully.  

You continue working between her legs, the woman unable to catch her breath before she whines loudly, her body again trembling.

You lick your lips, bumping her throbbing clit with the tip of your nose before you move to your feet.  

“J-Jesus.” Alex pants, her chest heaving, her body twitching every so often. 

“How was that?” You ask licking your lips as your eyes fall to the apex of her thighs. 

“You’re WAY too good at that.” She sighs, still attempting to catch her breath.  

You snicker, the woman whimpering when your fingers run through her folds.  

“Have you even come that hard before?” You ask, teasingly brushing her clit with your fingertips, her breath catching in her throat.  

“N-No.” She stammers, moaning when your finger dips inside her.   

She swallows hard, her eyes running down your body before settling on your bare, hard cock.  

Your eyes double in size when she wraps her legs around your middle, pulling you in, her blue orbs nearly black as she grabs your hardness before she sinks down onto it.

Your back arches as a throaty groan crawls up your throat, the sound making her clit twitch.  

“A little warning next time?” You grunt, Alex smirking as she rolls her hips, your brows furrowing in pleasure.  

“No.” She says, kissing your jawline as you start rolling your own hips, your member sliding in and out of her tight heat.  

Your hips increase in tempo, her legs wrapped tightly around you, her arms hanging loosely around your neck.  

She buries her face in your neck, attempting to stifle her cries of pleasure, knowing she would indeed be coming again very shortly.  

Her hands splay on your back as you thrust into her, her nails prodding into your skin.  

“Fuck, so good.” Alex moans against your neck, the sound coming from between her legs obscene.  

You, meanwhile, are mere moments from a powerful orgasm, your thighs beginning to twitch.  

“I’m gonna come.” You groan, your hips thrusting into her harder before you stiffen.

Your hips jerking upwards as you moan against her neck, her legs tightening around you as you explode into her your seed spurting inside her.  

She shivers, the feel of your come inside her making her cry out, her third orgasm ripping through her.  

You hiss as her nails dig ridges into your back, but you’re unable to stop yourself from moaning, the pain prolonging your orgasm, more of your release milked out before you still, your chest rising and falling rapidly.  

You lazily kiss her collarbone, the woman grinning in pure satisfaction. 

“God, that was so good.” Alex whispers, tangling her fingers in the fine hairs at the base of your neck, your locks dampened with sweat.  

The woman whimpers softly as you slip out of her, a literal mess of your essence dripping from her core. 

“Can you take any more?” You ask, the woman chuckling as she leans her head back, gripping the back of the couch so she doesn't fall.  

“I don’t think so.” She says, breathing heavily and you snicker.  

You take a step towards her, your lips brushing her earlobe as you whisper.  

“We both know there’s only one person who can make your orgasm like you just did, and that’s me.” You whisper, nibbling on her ear lobe. 

“Isn’t that right?” You ask and she sighs, her head lolling backwards as you draw slow circles against her overestimated clit. 

“Y-Yes.” She whimpers and you smirk, her breath catching in her throat when the circles you’re drawing become smaller and faster, the woman shuddering in pleasure. 

“Y/N…!” She moans, quaking seconds later, coming for a fourth time in the last few hours. 

You pull back, your tongue flicking against her ear lobe before you pull back, your lips pressing against hers tenderly, the kiss catching her slightly off guard, but she kisses back, nonetheless.  

Her fingers tangle in your sweaty hair as you kiss, the kiss not driven by lust or want, but by something else, something else entirely foreign to the two of you.  

You part, your throat bobbing as your eyes catch Alex’s bright blues.  

“Let me get you something to get cleaned up with.” You say as you hastily leave the room, Alex just now catching her breath, her heart fluttering, something she’d felt only once before, and that was with the man she was married to.  

[shewroteaworld]

Detached

Premise: You think you're alone in a storm of feelings. There's one person who won't let you get drenched in this downpour alone.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (relationship can be read as purely platonic or as a budding romance)

Approximate word count: 650

Warnings: Self-deprecation

“I just want to feel things. And not feel bad about feeling them.” 

Tears fall and splotch the lines of your notebook paper. You’re relieved your writing was spared. But you're also annoyed. If it washed away the graphite evidence, maybe you could shy away from this. Maybe you could not feel this.

How could you feel such contradictory desires at the same time? How could you hold both in your heart? You couldn’t. You literally couldn’t.

It was only inevitable. You were meant to destroy yourself. You had brain power, sure. But connection to yourself? Your soul? A real knowledge of self?

You sniffle. You bite your knuckles to choke the sobs. If someone caught you here, crying in the BAU bathroom on the toilet…you could never live that down. 

You sigh. Everyone was busy with work, packing up to go home, or already in the parking lot.

You were fine. You were safe. This was safe.

Of course, as if you were in a sitcom, as soon as the thought passed your mind, there was a goddamn knock on the door.

“Are you okay in there? I was passing by and couldn’t help but hear…do you need help?”

Spencer.

You shiver. You pull on your sweater as if you can squeeze warmth out of it. 

“I’m-I’m fine Spencer.” And just like that, the portal closed. You detached. If you could get him to leave quick enough, maybe you could touch it again– actually have a chance at feeling it. Releasing it.

Oh, why did you have to go to therapy?

“(Y/N)? You’re definitely not fine, open up.” 

“Spencer, I’m…” You shut your eyes tight. “I don’t want to worry you, so you should just leave.”

His scoff cuts through the mahogany door. “I’m not leaving you. You’re not okay.”

“Spencer, please.” You wipe snot from your nose on your sleeve. Like a toddler. “Leave, please, I just want to be alone.” You beg.

“I–” A dart of hope cuts through your heart. He sighs. “I don’t believe you.” It’s dashed. “Please, let me in, let me help.”

You can’t piece together enough words to form a rebuttal. When did you get a rubber tongue?

“(Y/N), I care. I’m your friend. Let me in.”

You sniffle, a smile tugging at the corner of your lip. He didn’t have to remind you of who he was. 

The smile slips away faster than the millisecond it arrived in. You couldn’t do this alone, and he wouldn’t let you.

There was finally someone in your life who wouldn’t let you.

“You can come in, Spence.”

You stare at his khaki–slacked knees as he slips through the door of the woman’s restroom. 

“I think we’re breaking company protocol.” You say to his patent leather shoes.

“For once, I’m putting personal protocol above that.” He says softly. “Letting you cry in the bathroom alone is against my protocol.”

You close your eyes. “I think I’m damaged goods.” 

“I think you’re way too harsh on yourself.” He pounces.

You open your eyes. “I don’t know how to feel things.” You croak.

“You know more than you know. That’s how the greatest intellectuals feel when they touch feelings. You’re not alone.”

You scoff. “Am I some great intellectual?”

“Stop that.” He cuts in. “You know you are.” He crosses the Rubicon between you, the tips of his toes stopping centimeters from yours. 

“I’ve been there. You have never been alone. And I’m here. To hold this with you.”

You meet his eyes. They’re soft and cold with worry yet there’s a warmth– like the warmth from the taste of home baked cookies. You feel it in your bones.

“To hold this with me?” You ask.

“To hold this with you.” He affirms.

For the first time in a long time, the cork pops from the bottle in the pit of your stomach.

You speak. 

[queenie-ofthe-void]

S2.5 AU || ~2k words || rating: teen || cws: mentions of past homophobic slurs, childhood neglect

AU where Max and her Mom move to the trailer park immediately following the events of S2. It's part of a long-term WIP, but this chapter got off course so I'm posting it as a stand-alone for now.

“Fucking, Christ,” Eddie mumbles as he drags himself from his warm bed. It’s almost four in the morning, much too early on a Saturday for someone to be bothering him. Yet the knocking’s persistent, the noise growing louder and impatient as he throws a sweatshirt on. Wayne had warned him it’d be a cold night– because yeah Wayne, it’s December– but not a goddamned ice age. The space heaters are barely cutting it. He can’t imagine anyone being out in this weather unless they didn’t have a choice.

Eddie yanks the door open to find the Mayfield girl, fist hitting him in the stomach mid-knock. It doesn’t hurt but he still makes a show of it. He’s nothing if not a patron saint of the arts. “Oof Little Red, I think you left a bruise,” he grunts as he crumples forward onto the door frame. 

“Right, sure,” she deadpans, rolling her eyes. Now that Eddie’s closer, he can see the pale tint to her skin and the red flush on her nose and cheeks. She’s layered in multiple sweatshirts with a Hawkins Middle knit cap covering her ears, grey Hawkins Tigersharks sweatpants, and a stuffed backpack slung over one shoulder. Red doesn’t really look like the school-spirit kind of kid. But she does look cold.

“Want to come in?” Eddie asks. She’s barreling past him before he can finish, plopping herself down on the living room floor in front of the space heater. He moves to take the chair next to her before reconsidering. Instead, Eddie sits on the floor too, leaning up against the couch opposite her.

“The power’s out– heat too,” Red mumbles. 

“Yeah, windows are pretty shit in the trailers. It’s why we got space heaters this year.”

“Must be nice, being able to afford space heaters,” she says with a smirk, taking her mittens off and rubbing her hands back and forth in front of the heater. Eddie’s more than familiar with the self-deprecating poor jokes, so it’s no sweat off his back. “I’m Max, by the way. Not Little Red.”

“Well when newbies move into the lot across the way and don’t introduce themselves, you’ve left me no choice but to resort to outlandish nicknames.” A ghost of a smile passes her features before it’s lost to a full-body shiver. Eddie realizes that this is their first-ever conversation, despite her living in the Park for almost four weeks now. “Mama Red and Little Red: The unfriendly neighbors across the way,” he finishes the dramatics with a wide smile.

Max scoffs out a laugh “well you haven’t been exactly friendly either.” And well, she’s got him there. He’s not exactly baking cookies as a neighborly welcome.

He decides he likes her. She seems witty, quick to defend herself, and bold enough to call out bullshit. Eddie’s always been a sucker for lost sheep and Little Red is quite literally a shivering child huddled up to his hearth with no parent in sight. Like sees like and he’s almost desperate to help her.

“You know, I know the heaters are shit in the trailers-”

“That’s an understatement,” Max interrupts with another huff.

“– but if you or your mom ever need help with anything, Wayne and I are always happy to come over to check on stuff for you,” he offers. 

He watches the offer die in the air between them. Her face shutters back to the cold neutrality he’s used to seeing her wear and she moves to stand.

“Yeah, of course,” she says. There’s no warmth or meaning behind the words. Just typical middle America niceties. “Speaking of help, can I use your phone?”

Eddie nods, leading her to the kitchen. He can’t help but replay the moment over in his head, regretting that his mistake was so painfully obvious in hindsight. Offering kids like Gareth and Jeff help meant soft smiles and adoration. For a kid like Max– a kid like him– an offer of help only reminds them they’re a burden. Help is just a way of reminding them that they can’t take care of themselves. Help means weak.

How could it have been so long that he’s forgotten? He supposes he has Wayne to thank for that newfound privilege.

“Hey it’s me,” Max says in hushed tones over the receiver. She looks at Eddie and turns her back to him. He meanders over to the other side of the counter, pretending not to listen.

“Can you come pick me up?” she asks. Eddie can’t hear the response on the other end, but Max exasperatedly sighs. 

“Yes I’m fine. No, it’s not Billy, it’s just the heater.” 

She pauses, shoulders hunched, and Eddie wonders who Billy could be. The only Billy he knows is Hargrove, and he’s never seen him around here before. Thank fuck for that.

“No she’s not home. No, jeez will you listen I just need– yeah I’ve got a bag. Ten minutes? Ok yeah I’ll– wait no. I’m not home.”

She turns to glance at Eddie, and he’s too slow to look nonchalant if her scowl means something. 

“I’m at the Munson’s. Yeah– no, it’s just Eddie. Umm,” she hesitates, scanning him up and down before responding, “no he’s good. Yeah I’ll wait here.”

She hangs the phone back on the wall, crossing her arms as she looks anywhere but Eddie’s direction. He knows he fucked up, knows where he went wrong, but doesn’t know how to fix it. He isn’t Wayne. 

“My ride will be here soon,” she says to her shoes.

“Ok yeah, no big deal,” Eddie replies. “We can wait in the living room?”

Little Red shrugs, but heads back to sit in front of the space heater. It’s silent and awkward, neither of them knowing how to move past the tension. Eddie laments himself again at losing a lost sheep. Although if she has a ride, maybe she isn’t as lost as he thought.

Ten minutes feels like an eternity, but eventually headlights flash through the front windows. Max practically tips over from the weight of her backpack with how quickly she’s scrambling toward the door. And yeah, Eddie thinks she must’ve felt the same about the wait.

“Uhh, hey, thanks,” Max says, her hand already on the door handle. “You know, for letting me use the phone.”

He can fix this. He can recover. Eddie doesn’t want to acknowledge why it’s so important that Little Red feels safe here, but he’s desperate for her to know. That he’s ok and he gets it. He gets her and she isn’t alone here, like Eddie was before Wayne. He wants to help. 

What would he have wanted to hear?

“Whelp,” he says loudly, standing up from the floor, “you’re always welcome to come over and entertain me with more scintillating conversations. Perchance, on our next meeting, we could engage in the classic game of Go Fish?” He plasters on a too-wide grin, removing an imaginary top-hat and falls forward into a deep bow. An actual offer of help disguised as his own boredom, wrapped in a thick layer of sarcasm and extravagance. He’s really pulling out all the stops here.

And it works, mostly. Her mouth ticks up at the ends, matching the little spark that’s returned to her eyes. Eddie thinks that maybe for Little Red, a smirk and an eye roll is as good as it gets. He’ll take it as a win.

“Oh my god,” she laments, yet the smirk is still there. “You sound just as dorky as the boys.”

She opens the door and Eddie stands behind her, holding it open as she makes her way out. He’s not sure why he’s surprised– knows he really, really shouldn’t be at this point– to see the maroon beemer parked in front of his trailer. But here he is, standing in front of the King himself, wearing Wayne’s black and tattered Johnny Cash sweatshirt, blue buffalo check wool pajama bottoms, and his red and green Christmas fuzzy socks. He feels too visible, the headlights shining on all of Eddie’s insecurities.

But before his hackles come out, Harrington jumps out of his car and half jogs up to the front step. He takes Max’s backpack and ruffles the pom on her knit hat before she’s bounding to the car, saying something under her breath which sounds a little like “ok mom” if Eddie’s not mistaken.

“Hey Munson,” Harrington says. He’s standing at the bottom of the front porch, looking up at Eddie through the glow of the headlights. And Eddie’s pretty sure the only plebeians who have ever seen the King look this disgruntled are his many midnight conquests. Harrington’s still got a thick, red sleep indent across his left cheek. His normally styled hair is pointing in all directions, standing completely vertical on the same side as the indent. He must’ve left in a hurry too, only clad in grey Hawkins Tigershark sweatpants– same as Red, though his fit him properly– and an oversized green crewneck sweatshirt.

And no, Eddie thinks, maybe even Harrington’s midnight conquests haven’t seen him like this. The King looks less like royalty and more like the normal boy Eddie supposes he really is, underneath the All-American highschool bully varnish he must slather himself in every morning. Or at least did, before Byers and Wheeler and Hargrove got to him. 

He realizes too late that he’s been staring, caught up in the softness of a pretty face. Harrington’s shuffling his feet, blowing on his hands as he rubs them together fiercely. There’s a strong red tinge to his cheeks, almost like a blush. Almost.

“I uhh,” Harrington stutters, looking up at Eddie. “I just wanted to say thank you, for letting her hang here until I could get here.”

“It’s no problem, man,” Eddie says, “don’t worry about it.” Eddie means to sound casual, he does. Because he’s seen Harrington around. Watched him help move boxes into Red’s trailer. Watched him pick her up and drop her off everyday of the week, including most weekends. Hell, sometimes Eddie’s even witnessed an entire gaggle of children spill from the luxury car’s back seats, the lot of them yelling while Harrington tries to herd them around like an exhausted sheep dog. 

But Harrington is still The Hair, The King of Hawkins High, even if it’s not the same as it used to be. So Eddie’s voice sounds more cold and hollow than casual. Harrington might not have ever shoved him into lockers, but he brandished sharp names like weapons against kids like Eddie. He’s a freak. A fag and a queer. A loser.

Harrington cringes, almost like he can hear Eddie’s thoughts. Eddie steps back to close the door, but Harrington calls out.

“If you ever need help with anything,” Harrington calls out, “or if Max is here and needs something, just like, ask me. Call me, you can get my number from Max.” 

Help. 

Eddie bites back his instinctual reaction to tell Harrington to fuck off. Of course some hoity-toity rich prick thinks someone like Eddie needs help. 

Hypocrite he lambashes himself, before taking a slow breath in and out.

He stiffly nods, unable to actually respond without worry of snapping. 

Harrington seems to understand, nodding in return, jogging back to the car and sending a small, awkward wave from behind the steering wheel as he and Red pull out of the drive. 

Eddie crawls back into the warmth of his bed, blankets pulled tight around him. He thinks he recovered with Red rather well, in the end. Like he hasn’t lost her faith completely, which is all he could hope for. And even though he doesn’t like Harrington, he also can’t help but wonder how different his own childhood would’ve been if he’d had someone like Steve, who would’ve picked him up at a moment’s notice at four a.m. on the coldest day of winter. 

He might not have adopted a new sheep into his growing flock, but he can sleep a little better knowing she isn’t alone. Knowing Steve Harrington, of all people, seems more than willing to go out of his way for her. Almost as desperate to help a lost kid as Eddie feels, and isn’t that a thought. The Freak and the King might have something in common after all.  

[hogans-heroes]

Ok so. The Bikeriders.

First of all, it’s very different than we thought, in a good way. It’s not an action or drama or crime film. It feels almost like a documentary because it’s shot in a journalist’s style with simple camera work and interviews and the story is told through the narration of Kathy and the journalist. It revolves around the snapshots of these people’s lives, who they are, why they’re here and do what they do, and it’s so beautiful and intimate and makes you fall in love with humanity like you’re in a anthropology class. You see how they see and love what they love. It’s so fucking powerful.

Ok side track to what we’re all really here for. FUKN BENNY.

Your life will be ruined by Austin within the first 10 seconds and you NEVER catch your breath afterwards. He doesn’t say too much and isn’t even on screen quite as much as I expected but he’s the heart of the whole film and oh boy what a beautiful heart. A TALL DAMN DRINK OF WATER THERE IS NO OTHER WAY TO PUT IT. I got lightheaded whenever he appeared. Plus we get him in a totally new look which I loved and am sure will be seeing in fandom. I literally have no words for his looks and voice and absolute badass behavior while also looking like a little kitten the entire time boy you out here ruining lives. One scene absolutely BROKE my heart I wanted to hug him so bad and it was a powerful moment in the narrative. But it was really hard to watch him get so beat up consistently over the movie.

The last SMILE we get from him??? Will kill all of us it will be the apocalypse I’m typing from the GRAVE you hear??? I’d vote the best smile we’ve ever gotten from Austin and THAT’s really saying something. I can’t say enough good things about the ending in general.

Tom Hardy is the ABSOLUTE mvp of this film, he knocked it out of the park.

(Mild spoilers under the cut)

I was so terrified Benny was going to die the entire time and the way the movie goes it really makes you think he will but he DOESNT DIE and I was SO GODDAMN relieved. That ending was so perfect and sad and poignant.

It REALLY IS a love triangle??? Like I was also shocked that there is zero sex scene or even a single kiss at all in a film like this, but the dialogue and chemistry whew boy….was very intrigued and happy to have things thus way even though it turned out sad.

[chungledown-bimothy]

Top 5 character dynamics on d20? (Intrepid heroes seasons + side quests; so 10)

oh i love this and thank you for splitting it into the 2 groups, making it slightly more possible lol

point of clarification: the slashes are NOT being used as a shipping indication. it's just faster than using and a million times. in fact, the only one i ship is colin/deli/skarna.

Side Quests:

1- Colin/Deli/Skarna. I don't need to explain this one, I think. Everything is wrong with them and it's painful and wonderful.

2- Squing/Alexsandr. Squing ate over 2500 letters Sasha wrote. Sasha wants to play with his weirdly soft head like silly putty. Every single interaction has me in hysterics, really.

3- Evan/Jammer. EAT TRASH BEAT TRASH. FAMILY ON SIX. Jammer constantly being Evan's strongest hype man is just so great.

4- Chirp/Squak. Emily and Lou decided they wanted to be an iconic, chaotic duo, and my god they knocked it out of the park. The scene where she tells him about her wife and kids?? 100/10.

5- Lila/Jaysohn/Thorn. It was really hard to not say the whole damn party, honestly. But Thorn trying to cool-uncle parent these goddamn nightmares was incredible.

Intrepid Heroes:

1- Amethar/Caramelinda. I wrote a whole fic about their early relationship. I rotate them in my mind constantly. As complicated and painful what we know about them is, what's left unsaid is even more so. (if you just meant pc/pc dynamics, i'm sorry!)

2- Sofie/Kugrash. If I start talking about the million reasons I love them and their friendship, I'll start crying, so. Not gonna do that. But you understand.

3- Pete/Kingston. Pete seeing Kingston as an authority figure to rebel against -> father figure. Kingston not giving Epona Pete's information in the same day that he says that if it comes down to NYC or Pete, he'll pick NYC ten out of ten times. The Voxes, starting diametrically opposed and ending up family, really.

4- Saccharina/Ruby. You can be my queen or my sister, but not both. The prisoners' dilemma. Jet just died, Ruby can't let anyone else in vs Ruby representing everything Saccharina has ever wanted. 100/10 Siobhan and Emily killed me.

5- Pib/Pinocchio. Literally partners in crime. Just a pair of little dudes causing Big Chaos. Pinocchio holding Pib up to Baba Yaga and saying "where the white women at?" is canon to me.

That's a lot of Lou characters oop 😅

[solei-eclipse]

wait . would solauri have a better chance as working out more romantically in the modern au . ?

( i would say maybe since the age gap isn’t so big and auri isn’t a total sociopathic freak . . if you think so too, id love to hear any silly little headcanons lol . )

( no im not doing this because im stressed about round 1 and really don’t want cirrus or azure to die what are you talking about haha ahaha . . ( sobs quietly in nonexistent corner with face in hands ) )

SOCIOPATHIC FREAK 😭 go easy on her now

I think it would definitely work out better than in the ALNSTverse for the reasons you mentioned but also because solei wouldn't be as stressed and people don't have to fight for their goddamn lives anymore!!!

Some thoughts!!!

Solei's first ever interaction with Auri in the park would be about pokemon. I'm so sorry. They're a loser who loves animals and biology and life so naturally. Pokemon nerd. When little Auri was in the park little Solei came up to them and showed her their pokemon cards. When they walked her home they gave Auri one of their cards: a Seel! (Also I take back what I said about them being 2 or 3 during their first meeting. I realize I was barely able to form any cohesive thought at that age so. I imagine they'd be 4 or 5 instead like what you originally suggested!)

Solei would knock on Auri's door everyday and ask Cas or Nyx if she could come out and play. Since Solei knows where she lives from when they walked together that day.

I'd imagine there weren't many people in the neighbourhood yet by the time Solei moved in (since you suggested the idea that Solei was one of the first). Since there weren't any other kids their age to play with, they stuck to each other pretty fast.

From the point on it was like glue!! Once Solei was old enough to ride a bike they'd visit Auri's every morning to head to school together (sorry I keep mixing the ALNST highschool AU together with the modern au but like. They would go to school right? Correct me if I'm wrong)

I hc they have a lot of matching clothes (matching sweaters, socks, shirts, etc)

Auri was a good star student but Solei was just around average, maybe even dropping below that at certain points. Maybe Auri would tutor them sometimes? (Ivan moment lol)

Auri likes to mess with Solei's hair and put it in ties and clips and stuff (based on one of your very first solauri doodles)! She's pretty good at it, but sometimes she'll do Lei's hair up really weird and stupid if she's feeling cheeky. Solei always keeps that hairstyle for the rest of the day no matter how stupid it looks.

Solei likes to woodcarve things for Auri all the time. It's kind of shitty and blocky and unrecognizable at first though so I don't know if Auri would keep it lol

Physical touch!! Auri likes physical touch, Lei is warm and loves warmth so they're happy with it! If they lie on the floor and Auri drapes herself on them horizontally (they'd be making a plus sign shape basically) then Solei would use their hands to play drums on her back. You know like. patpatpatpatpatpatpat. complete with cymbal sound effect. Because they're a loser.

Auri dresses in nice clothes most of the time (I think, usually in rock's sketches she's wearing pretty dresses) and in contrast to that Solei's fashion sense is just. Pajamas. Not joking they'd literally show up to places in their pajamas. Easygoing but at what cost.

When they do decide to change into something more appropriate, it still carries the vibe of pajamas. They like loose and comfortable clothing, stuff like big sweaters with wide open collars and soft baggy pants. Even their school uniform carries this carefree vibe since they forego the blazer and just wear the white button-up (that isn't even completely buttoned. Imagine till's school uniform with the orange undershirt, that's basically Solei). I'd imagine Aurien would be more clean and put together? Though maybe Solei would encourage her to loosen up and do whatever makes her comfortable.

Solei is (suprisingly) popular? They have a lot of friends at school. Definitely the type to say "okay I'm going now bye guys!" and then spend another 10 minutes yapping with others. Very "mom can we go home now" vibes from Aurien during this time.

If Aurien was feeling upset about something, Solei would take her someplace quiet and encourage her to tell them about it. They'd always make sure to carry something nice in their pocket to suprise her afterward, like candy or another wood carving or a flower they found.

Auri does her homework on her room desk and when she turns around to look at her bed solei has materialized out of nowhere to sleep on it. you know. instead of doing homework

When they're older, Solei would work at a zoo/animal shelter and would text Auri pictures of animals that reminded them of her

They would probably also have each other as profile pictures

I do apologize for this fact, I know it's an excruciating and annoying character trope, but solei is in fact a dense bastard. I'm so sorry. they'd have no idea. stay strong auri

[gffa]

To the anon who worried about liking the Obi Wan series, don’t my dude, I LOVED it. My favorite scene is where Anakin/Vader tells Obi Wan how he wasn’t his failure, I take so much from that. I mean I loved all of it and so many scenes made me just want to shake Anakin and slap him into a nap because he could have so fucking much if he just would have stopped to think clearly. It literally makes me just… get so sad because he wanted his children and his life with padme but ended up being the one who took it away from himself.

I will never be over that scene where Vader says that he's not Obi-Wan's failure, that Obi-Wan didn't kill Anakin Skywalker. Vader did. I want everyone to give Hayden Christensen five dollars right now, whether we said he was phenomenal or criticized him, everyone give him five dollars right now, that moment was knocked out of the goddamned park. It’s the last dregs of Anakin absolving Obi-Wan of his guilt, but it’s also Vader trying to use Anakin’s absolution to try to hurt Obi-Wan.  He doesn’t want to be pitied, he wants to be feared, he doesn’t want Obi-Wan to love him, he wants Obi-Wan to hate him, he wants Obi-Wan to hate him the way he hates Obi-Wan and the way he hates himself, because that’s the only way Vader can accept anyone staying with him, but he’s desperate for connection, any kind of connection. He can’t accept Obi-Wan’s sorrow, he would have to acknowledge everything that he did, he would have to come back to the light to accept love, but he doesn’t want Obi-Wan to go away, either, he wants Obi-Wan to stay, but he can’t accept it in any way other than the two of them hurting each other, hating each other, because that’s what the Sith do, they trap themselves in the dark, in hate and rage, that’s the only way anything means anything. If you really loved me, Obi-Wan, you’d hate me the way I hate you, because I really loved you. Everything about Hayden’s performance is layered with Anakin wanting Obi-Wan to be absolved, that last glimmer of good still in him, but also it’s Anakin, who has always wanted everyone to love him the way he loves them:  In a ball of fiery emotions that burn him to ashes just to be near the person. The Obi-Wan Kenobi show was so damn good because, sure, Ewan McGregor was incredible in it, but even just the glimpses of Anakin that we got are ones that fucking understood the assignment.

[lupaeusarc]

𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘍𝘌𝘌𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘝𝘐𝘛𝘠 𝘝𝘐𝘉𝘌𝘚 𝘐𝘋𝘒

i saw some people doing these end of year posts and i'm in a sappy mood so happy holidays and here's some people i adore !!

@stanfordprepped JARED my bestie my love the light of my life you're genuinely one of my best friends and an absolute day one ride or die i can't even describe how much samemma and cassdell mean to me and our other ships are top tier as well i'm so glad i met you and i'll get to updating cassie's aesthetic and bringing some cassdell to the dash right after this 🤍

@carp3diems ceejay . bestie . partner in crime . sounding board for every chaotic thought that goes through my mind . i adore you and our plots and threads and the way i can just hop into your dms like " hey can i traumatize our muses rq " and you're always down lmao you're so talented and i'm just very thankful for you and for colbemma and for all of our chaos

@multi-royalty maddieeeeeee i love you so much my big little sissy 🥹 the only person i'll write em in the tvdu for and the reason i'm still writing at all i owe so much to you and i appreciate that even if we don't talk constantly you know i think you're the bees knees and you make the rpc a better place you absolute ball of sunshine

@stilesstylelinski trick you fuckin goblin i don't know what i would do without our bullshit or your unconditional emotional support you and i have both had a pretty shit year and i'm just really glad we could lift each other up even a little bit throughout all of it . stemma owns my soul and i'm still just in awe of your portrayal okay you basically pull the boy off the screen

@boundforhale MOM mom i love you mom i'm so grateful for you and for the gremlin chat and for all the support and love you give . you're so talented and kind and you need to be NICER to yourself for taking your time with replies i would be happy with a reply a year okay plus derek is a stubborn asshole it wouldn't make sense if he woke up all the time lol when he does he comes out swinging though you knock it out of the park every time

@ruinedmyself twin 🤍 i think you're so neat okay the way your brain works is so fascinating and the love you put into your muses is like palpable you're so cool and so talented and brooklyn and sam are so fucking funny i can't watch the basement yard anymore without thinking of them . i'll make more edits of them soon the accuracy is just so unreal lol

@inkedmuses VVVVVV listen i have such brainrot for john b and emma right now they make me so happy all of our ships are so cute and interesting and i love them so much you have some of the coolest plot ideas ever it's so chaotic and so fun to just yell ideas at each other and bring them to life

@guiltye LILLY i mean i just could yell forever and i will i WILL yell forever i can't even believe how intricate and deep and unique all of our plots are i'm constantly in awe of your mind every time i get a meme or reply from you i'm starstruck i love you and i love yelling about noah with you and i just think you're so fucking cool and so creative and talented and interesting and strong as all hell and you just never fail to make me smile *mandolin playing* you got all my love 🤍

@n0prom1ses lumiiii listen i love these idiot sisters so much already and i think all of our ships and dynamics are so neat 🥹 i'm sad we lost so much time especially knowing why but i'm so glad nature is healing and that sonny is once again dragging asher by the balls bc frankly it's what he goddamn deserves

i could literally go on for hours but i do want to get some things done lmao so here's some more people that my note to is this : i adore y'all and i hope you have the best holidays / new year and that 2024 brings you everything you hope for 🤍

@svnflowehrs , @escapedfromthevoiid , @hellgiven , @qapsiel , @westwingsolo , @r4chelamber , @ofcrxwns , @ofblackskies , @neverrcry , @gunchamber , @controlledvolatility , @sarcasticsnackpack , @localsalt , @fuckmeupindie , @hstoryhuh , @mecwmellc , @surgcns , @unitcd , @unbearablyindifferent

[sybilius]

Okay, I don't think anyone that I've seen so far has written meta on this exact metaphor that's obsessing me in Same as Cash. So there's two layers of story going on here. On the action front, we're seeing (through someone else's eyes) Jenny debate with herself about holding on to her car:

You were still attached to your Civic sedan Although the brakes always needed repair You were headed out to buy some supplies You could smell the threat of rain in the air I can only see the scene second-hand I can only try to understand How a small amount of pressure in the right place Breaks the strongest link in the chain

So that's a pretty concrete story -- Jenny loves her car, but her car is falling apart a little. Then we get the chorus:

In your car with your head in your hands At the far end of the Walmart parking lot Trying not to buckle under the strain

Okay, so Jenny's not doing well! She's carving out time for herself in the car, head in hands, at the parking lot for supplies. Then we get to the verse about the car salesman:

Every single night after prime time Loud enough to hear in your sleep The salesman from the lot half a mile from here Yelling down the hood of his Jeep I'll take anything that the others won't I can see the value where others don't Just a small amount of pressure in the right place Two fingers to the temporal vein

I bolded the text because -- honestly, it feels bold when it's sung, doesn't it? This is where the story makes it clear what Jenny is about, what her raison d'etre is. She wants to take in those who are forsaken, she can see value in them when no one else can. We get another hit of the chorus, and then:

Striking a bargain with the imp in your brain Prepared to take another knock for the short gain But you can ask any veteran running back Eventually your joints complain

Okay, so this was the one I really really wanted to talk about because I think it's maybe some of the most clever wordplay ever, and also one of the most apt pieces of writing about the perils of taking on other's pain as your main response to most problems in life. The "striking a bargain with the imp in your brain" -- it feels like the narrator is aware, that Jenny is making a short-term deal (selling her car) because she's worried about supplies they need.

But there's also the layer on which taking on more strays -- more people, more community, more pain that she doesn't have capacity for -- that's also a short-gain distraction. I don't know how to explain this to people who haven't been there, but other people's pain can be addictive. It can genuinely feel like, okay, listening to your problems for a minute, giving you what you need -- that's vicariously giving me what I need.

That's why the line "prepared to take another knock for the short gain" is so goddamn clever. It's a knock, as in a blow to Jenny's self to sell her car off for the Kawasaki. But the literal knock of someone else at her door who needs shelter is calling to her, for the short gain of vicarious relief (instead of having to face up to her own needs).

Anyways. Jenny's house of hard knocks. that's the post thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

[trashmouth-richie]

TWIN FLAMES: 13❕

A/N: I know, it’s been literally 19 days and I’m so sorry, this chapter hurt to write but it’s HERE!

Warning: NO MINORS, angsttttyyyy

Pairing: Eddie x Fem! reader

W.C 3.1k

Three days have gone by and you haven’t heard a single word from Eddie. You tried calling his house but it just kept ringing. It was a stupid fight. Ridiculous even. You had no idea your dad was going to tell you those things that night. How would you have known? Sitting on your tower at the pool you sulked as the sun beat down on the umbrella. You had barely slept at all the past few nights. Nightmares racking your brain with the painful memories of Eddie leaving your house that night. You were angry with him, so hurt by what happened. The way he just left you standing there, alone. Your eyes were swollen from crying, your parents were terrified when you screamed out at night after having fallen asleep for a few minutes. Waking up to remember that Eddie wanted nothing to do with you only for the crying to continue again. It had been your idea to go back to work but everywhere you went Eddie was there.

Behind the counter sat the ghost of Eddie, bringing pizza to your work the Saturday after the party.

“I didn’t know if you liked Canadian bacon and pineapple so I got a cheese too, and if you like neither of those options I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” Eddie announces proudly.

He looked so good that night, the memory of him bringing two pizzas, cut deep. You weren’t complete without him. A part of your soul was missing and you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed answers. And you would get them. Hopping down from the white tower of your lifeguard station, stomping your feet into the hot smooth concrete as you walked.

“Hey your break isn’t for another hour,” Anthony announced sleepily behind the counter, “hey! Where are you going?”

You pushed past the chain link fence grabbing your purse, you toss your whistle and keys over the counter as you went, watching as they bounced to the floor, “I quit”.

You crane your steering wheel to turn into the trailer park forest hills. Eddie’s van was nowhere to be seen but Wayne’s truck was parked along the grass. Parking and getting out of your car you crane your ears for any sort of sound, but it was desolate. No metal music blaring, not Wayne and Eddie talking— just nothing. Yet you were determined to figure out what the hell was going on. Your feet were on the steps before your mind could talk yourself out of it. Knocking lightly on the door you waited to hear Eddie’s feet bounding from his room, but the Munson face who met you wasn’t the one you so desperately craved to see.

Wayne looks rough, he always kind of did but right now he looked as if he too hadn’t slept in days.

“Oh I’m sorry Wayne I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you nudge the toe of your shoe against the rotting wood of the rickety steps, you never even thought about Eddie telling Wayne what had happened, would he agree with him? Suddenly you were very nervous to be standing at Eddie’s trailer door. “Um— is, is Eddie here?”

Wayne’s icy eyes peer into yours, “Darlin’ what do you mean?”

Heat rises in your throat and sweat forms on the back of your neck, “I-is Eddie here, I haven’t seen him in a few days and I just w-wanted to talk to him.”

“You haven’t seen him either?” Wayne raises his voice. “Goddamn I thought you were with him!”

Nothing is making sense, “With him? Wayne what happened? Where is he?!”

—

Wiping the traitorous tears from his eyes as he pushes the limits on how fast the old van can take him back to Forest Hills trailer park, Eddie is furious.

He couldn’t believe this.

Couldn’t believe that the girl who made him feel like there was no one else in the world but him, could also make him feel the same way that he felt the day his dad betrayed him.

Heartbroken.

But that was his business.

His dad, the Munson name, his entire reputation in Hawkins. That was his, and you made it feel like none of that mattered. You made him feel like he was important. Honestly, it would’ve been better if your dad would’ve never told him. Never told him that he was the one who got Eddie out of juvy with the help of Steve’s dad. Never told him that he had known Ray when they were growing up, never told him that he basically knew every single part of his life before Eddie even had a chance to tell you himself—- he already knew everything about him, and that was the worst part.

Speeding into the Forest Hills trailer park kicking up rocks and bits of broken glass from the neighbors fight they had last week over a baseball game bet gone bad, he throws the van in park and runs inside. He grabs a duffel bag and shovels it full of dirty jeans strewn across the floor, his Hellfire shirt, various band tees, D&D dice, a very worn copy of Lord of the Rings, and a pillow. He goes into the bottom drawer of the messy dresser and pulls out a small, black tin full of rolled up bills. He had been saving this for a rainy day maybe to get a new guitar or one of those fancy new amps he saw in the record store last week, but when it rains it pours and boy was it pouring tonight.

He had no plan, only to get away. away from here away from this town, and all their judging looks and away from you. He couldn’t bear to look at you. He couldn’t bear to think that you only thought of him as a charity case. You were the first person in his life to look at him in a way that wasn’t out of pity that wasn’t, a look of disgust or even a cheap way to score some good weed. You saw him for who he was not his past— and that’s what’s killing him.

That you will no longer be seeing him that way you’ll no longer be seeing him as the guy you met at a random barn party on the hottest fucking day of the year. No, no no— now you will see him as a shadow of the man who put his own son in juvy. A delinquent, a fraud.

Sure, Eddie missed growing up without his dad around— who wouldn’t but that’s not why he left your house tonight. That’s not why he’s leaving, that’s not why he’s running away. No, he’s running away to get far away from you and those sad eyes that stared at him after your dad unleashed Eddie’s truth.

He didn’t need a handout—didn’t want one. He had been doing fine on his own, and he would continue to do so. Thinking twice about writing Wayne a note, Eddie scribbles a short message on the back of the electric bill envelope.

Going away for awhile- Eddie

Slinging the bag over his shoulder feeling the bite from the weight dip into his shirt, Eddie pushes through the door. Leaving the house he has known for the past twelve years for the last time.

-

“He— he left a note,” Wayne says fumbling over discarded papers, “ah here!” He slides the paper over to you and you read what it says. “Any idea where he would be?”

Tears fall from your eyes spilling on the note Eddie left for Wayne, tears smearing the ink from the pen. “I- I have no idea, we h-had a fight and he told me he never wanted to see me again.”

“Darlin’ that boy is crazy about you, there ain’t no way he would say those things.” Wayne gives you a smile. Clearly Eddie hadn’t told Wayne about the fight you two had had. After ten minutes of explaining what happened that night, Wayne sits down heavily in his recliner. “My God, you’re Dan’s daughter? How the hell did I miss that? I guess I hadn’t seen him since he helped Eddie.”

“You should have seen him Wayne he was so upset, screaming and yelling,” you begin to cry remembering how upset he was, “I had never seen him like that before.” You bury the heels of your hands into your eyes as you start sobbing.

Wayne runs a thick hand through his scruffy beard. “I’m calling his work. We need to narrow down a timeline of when he left… I don’t get home from the plant until after seven o’clock. I figured he had either gone to work or was on a trip with you. I didn’t even question it.” He shakes his head. “Damn that boy.”

You and Wayne spend the better half of an hour calling Eddie’s work and his friends, no one has seen him, or heard from him. You wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for him. Wayne hangs up the phone and slumps down into the worn kitchen chair, head in his hands as he mumbles, “No luck, I’m sorry Y/N, nobody knows where Eddie could be.”

—

The lights on the faded sign for the motel right off of I-70 in Indianapolis flickered an angry red reading “v - - ancy”. It had been a month since Eddie ran away and the freedom was beautiful. Eddie could do whatever he wanted without having to answer to a single soul but himself. He woke up when he wanted, he wrote songs at every hour of the day, and most importantly he was free. Not chained to the reputation of his jailbird dad or his neglectful mother, not judged by you or your precious family. He was free to be himself, here in this rundown shit heap of an excuse for a place to lay his head. Yeah? Well so what if the van was broken into and everything was stolen? He could buy new tapes. No big deal. And yeah, the cockroach roommates weren’t exactly the best but the bed was bigger than the twin mattress he had at home. The money he had been saving was almost gone but he was managing. He’d just have to start selling again.

Stretching his legs out on the broken concrete, he strains his back against the teetering plastic of the lawn chair outside of room 38. An opened can of spaghetti o’s in one hand and a plastic spoon in the other, Eddie was living the life. The city was much different from the deep pits of hell Hawkins resembled. Life here was boisterous, loud and always on the go. The city smelled of opportunity, piss and rotting food, but opportunity nonetheless. Stores stayed open all night, he could get a hotdog off a cart at 2 am if he wanted. The record stores had all the new releases, and more importantly they were huge. Yeah life for Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was pretty great. The Strip clubs didn’t card and on most nights Eddie found himself too drunk, leaned back on a fuzzy chair, receiving a sad lap dance while he tried to drown your memory out of his head.

That was the only thing that bothered him. The nightmares. Visions of your face haunted him, had him tossing and turning in a deep sweat every single night. He’d wake up with hair stuck to the back of his neck, tangled in the scratchy sheets. He didn’t know peace. Nightmares of you never taking him back— not that he wanted you too, he was still licking his wounds, but the thought of you moving on was slowly driving him insane. He couldn’t escape it. You were everywhere. Every girl he saw, every song he wrote, was all you. Always you. He even tried to call you a few times but would hang up as soon as your beautiful sleepy voice rang through the other end. It was too painful. How could he go back now? He couldn’t just apologize and pretend he didn’t fuck it up. A small part of him still believed you would figure out he was here and walk through the door one of these nights. But it never happened. The ghost of you still lingering. His twin flame, his girl, nothing would be the same, he couldn’t just go home. He has changed and he’s assumed so have you.

-

August was revealing itself to be hotter than July, if that were even possible. Temperatures were climbing into the triple digits almost every day. The usual green and perky lawns around Bridgeport and Hawkins were scorched from the blazing hell of the sun. Wayne said the plant had even closed a few days because of how hot it was. The heat was relentless and miserable. As were you.

The first two weeks without Eddie, your parents didn’t know what to do with you, most days you holed yourself in your room refusing to do anything but sleep. Sleep was the only time you got to see Eddie, getting to remember the way he loved you, the way his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning when he saw you. The unruly way his curls fell against his face when he was head banging on stage, and the sweet taste of his lips on yours when you were tangled up in eachothers arms. Being awake was the nightmare. It felt unreal that he was gone. You waited for him to come home and jump on your bed and pepper your face with kisses, watching his eyes dance for the love he had for you. But it never happened. You were starting to understand why Steve went off the deep end when you had dumped him.

Your appearance was alarming, your hair was thrown atop your head, rarely getting out of pajamas. The puffiness from the crying had become a standard part of your face. A former shell of who you used to be. It wasn’t the fact that you were dumped, it was the fact that Eddie completely vanished and nobody had heard a single word from him. Late at night you would hallucinate that your phone was ringing, you answered it many times just for the line to be dead. An evil trick played by your mind. How could this have happened? How could he just leave you like this and not even say if he was alright?

Watching Wayne tear up when you had visited him on his days off was heartbreaking. “I just want my son to come home,” he choked through tears, a rugged calloused hand wipes away the tears with a tattered handkerchief, “then I’ll kick his ass for leaving.” You always tried your best not to cry in front of him, leaving that for the car rides home. The little time you got to spend with Wayne warmed your heart, and made you feel like there was hope for Eddie walking his stubborn ass through that door any day now. Even if he did come back, would it be the same? You doubted he would come waltzing into your house and apologize with a dozen roses, or admit that he was wrong, you didn’t even care if any of that happened, you just wanted him back. You were pissed at him for leaving you the way he did, no explanation no nothing just ‘fuck you’ and dust in the wind. It was killing you not knowing where he was. Not knowing if he was safe.

School was starting in less than a week and your mother insisted on going back to school shopping in Indianapolis. The drive was a blur, your mother was going on and on about paint samples for the new guest house she had talked your dad into building. Your head was leaned against the window and your knees tucked up in front of you. you “mhmmed” more times than you could count, waiting for the drive to be over. You had told your parents about Eddie’s disappearance and they were truly worried sick for Wayne and yourself. They tried their best to make you feel better but it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t make Eddie come back anymore than you could. Your father had tried using any connection he could think of to find him, but so far it was useless. Any good lead would always come up dry. Not only was Eddie gone and wanting nothing to do with you, but he was 19 and legally able to leave home. He couldn’t be considered a missing person, just a runaway.

The Glendale mall had just opened the new smell of the plaster walls and black and white tiling scattered along every floor. It was packed full of anxious moms trying to find the very best for their children, angsty teenagers swooning over the ice cream slinging hotties. Your mother had maintained that she could buy you happiness with a girls day. After countless hours of shopping and a fresh mani and pedi, you were starting to feel a little better. A smile spread across your face as your mom made small jokes about the cute guys working at the burger joint in the food court. Maybe it was time to move on from Eddie. He clearly didn’t want anything to do with you so why continue being miserable? The hole in your chest where Eddie used to be was begging for closure, straining for any little piece of reassurance. But getting that would never happen.

Leaving the mall struggling beneath the arm loads of shopping bags your mother points to a homeless man, curled up against the edge of the building attempting to get the last bit of shade. “Such a sad sight, you never know how their lives were before they became like that.” But that’s not what startled you. Her words no matter how ridiculous they were was not what held your mouth agape. The man, wearing grime covered shorts and sandals, had a vest covering his head, a vest you had seen many times before. It was denim, with a homemade “DIO” patch on the back, a WASP button, various other patches adorning the sides. You would have recognized that handmade vest anywhere, because it was Eddie’s.

——

Taglist: @munson-blurbs @gathered-moss @boomhauer @b-irock @sidthedollface2 @big-ope-vibes @syrennna @idkidknemore @creoleguurl @manda-panda-monium @tlclick73 @munsonficdump @brittney69 @strngrlytn @chloe-6123 @sweetsouthernbitchery @basketcaseeeeee @x-lunagirl-x @eddiemunsonshellfirebitch @trixyvixx @chelebelletx @lacrymosa-24 @nevermore66 @aysheashea

[femboycatofmystery]

I Love Raine Whispers

Let me start this post about Raine Whispers by affirming my love of Double Trouble.

Are they a paragon of unproblematic representation? Hell no. Do I adore them? You bet your ass I do, for two reasons: first, despite being a shapeshifting trickster and arguably a villain who inarguably relies on deceit, when they appeared, they were a breath of literally any air in a media landscape which, regardless of whether we're even talking about kids' shows, was basically empty of non-binary representation. This can hardly be overstated: non-binary representation has been so scarce that Double Trouble pretty much literally revealed my non-binary-ness to me, single-handedly. Second, sort of related, for all their sus vibes, Double Trouble absolutely works as a power fantasy for schlubby, inglamorous enbies like yours truly, all while being important to the plot, delivering a necessary if painful vibe check around which the entire next season pivots, and looking absolutely devastating in a jumpsuit. Don't get it twisted: I fucking love Double Trouble and I WILL fight you.

But this is a post about Raine, aka best Owl Houseian.

Raine Whispers is, for one thing, everything Double Trouble wasn't. Unambiguously with the good guys. Unique, interesting powers attained through study and cleverness. Cool Teacher Vibe. Sexy, but absolutely in an aspirational way rather than, uh, y'know, what DT's doing. They are undeniably a core cast member, including, nay, especially in the last, shortened season.

If DT was a breath of literally any air, Raine Whispers is what it felt like when the Fright Zone suddenly turned into a goddamn alpine meadow. They're transcendental. Double Trouble was enjoyable and fun to have around, but Raine… Raine made me feel invested in a way I can hardly express. It's because of them that I am starting to more seriously contemplate really starting to stamp those they/them pronouns on my stationary if you get my drift.

From the minute they're introduced, Raine becomes a chord in the tapestry of the Owl House that we didn't know we'd been missing, and I gotta say, in terms of late-introduced characters, the Owl Crew did an incredible job of making them feel like they'd been there all along, it's just the camera wasn't pointing at them. Lovely. They're introduced along with Bardic Magic, which is itself given a chance to really shine as this weird, bigger-than-it-looks branch of magic that pools up and spills over into the world from everywhere, it's a branch of magic that proves what an ill-fitting straightjacket the Coven system is by just sort of being something that feels like it transcends the divisions artificially erected between things and-- you get it, Bard Magic might not be an intentional metaphor, but it sure does resonate.

Raine is also a double agent, but unlike Double Trouble, the metaphor is way more subtle, and much better for it. Raine is a double agent because the powers that be just assume they're part of the system, and then because they assume they've tamed them. Raine persists, hiding in plain sight because nobody wants to see them. And they don't like it, but they know they can use it.

Raine is also an excellent foil for Eda. They don't dislike Eda's rebelliousness, chaotic impulsiveness, or sass, in fact they love them, but every one of those things are things that Raine exhibits quietly. They rebel under a pseudonym. They plan, but plan craziness. They have the capacity for sass, but deliver it with subtlety and wit, in a way that Eda might be able to do if she wanted to, but probably never will. (This is part of why they fit so perfectly into the ensemble cast: they are a great pair for one of the most important characters in the show.)

I could also yell about how aggressively non-binary the cast gets in season 3, but even knowing what was to come, The Owl House knocked the first one out of the park. Raine Whispers is incredible, and I am changed for having them in my media universe. Just. Bravo, crew. Bravo.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

Orphanage + magical realism AU

When Merle called and asked for a favor, Taako had expected something like "order some pizza for the kids" or "can you run these errands for me?" Not "can you teach some kids some magic?" And yet, here he was, at fuck-early in the morning, struggling to find a parking spot near enough to the orphanage that he wouldn't have to walk ten extra blocks, just to teach some little brats a few party tricks. The secret parking spot he had found during his teens was taken. There were only parallel parking spaces left because fuck him, but, y'know. Taako could deal with that.

Correction: Magic could deal with that. So what if Taako used a little bit of extra charm so that he wouldn't have to maneuver his way into the space? He was literally here to teach magic. He was leading by example! He was a teacher figure!

The orphanage was a large brick building, which looked like it needed a good pressure wash. There were dozens of plants lined up on the windowsill, vines creeping up the brick walls. Taako took ahold of the door knocker- the bronze face of Pan was engraved into it- and knocked. Loudly.

He waited.

No one came.

Taako knocked again.

Nothing.

He gripped the door knocker again, banging on it now, and raised his voice to say,

"Merle fucking Highchurch if you don't open this goddamn door-"

The door opened, bringing Taako, who was still attached to the door knocker, back with it. He tumbled, barely catching himself before he went all the way down.

In the door stood a young human boy. Maybe. Taako still didn't know how humans aged. He looked like someone had stuffed a businessman into a child's body. There was a wand attached to his brightly colored lanyard and an honest-to-gods feather in his little business boy hat. Taako knew it had been a while since he had been a kid, but had fashion really changed that much? This kid dressed like his grandpa had.

"Are you… Mr. Taako?" fancy boy asked, looking extremely hopeful.

"Sure am," Taako said.

"Oh, boy!" fancy boy said, bouncing up and down on his heels. "P- please! Come in! Mr. Highchurch is, uhm, preoccupied with some of the other children, but- but I can get him for you! Or, or if you wanted to get stuff set up for magic-!"

"Nothin to set up, my man," Taako said, stepping inside. Fancy boy shut the door behind him. "I've already got everything I need right here." He tapped a hand against his chest.

"In your heart?" fancy boy asked sweetly.

"Nah," Taako said, reaching into his shirt pocket for the small card he had put in there before. "This bad boy right here."

"Flashcards?" fancy boy asked, with even more excitement than before.

"A receipt for the money Merle owes me," Taako said. "Can't do magic before that."

"O-oh," fancy boy said. But he perked up again, saying, "I- I can show you where we're doing magic, and then I can go get Mr. Highchurch for you! It's- it's right through here!"

He brought Taako into the drawing room, which had a large table set up in the middle of it. There were many chairs, but none of them were occupied. Fancy boy pulled out a seat for Taako, like a little gentleman. His nose wrinkled when Taako put his feet up on the table, but he didn't say anything. He scurried out of the room with the receipt, presumably to go get Merle, and left Taako alone.

It had been… a long time since Taako was last in here. Felt like it, at least. Merle had obviously redecorated some in the nearly hundred years since Taako had been under his care, but it still felt cozy. The table was still set up as it had always been for activities- a red table skirt, with various little place mats around it. There was a bowl of glitter glue in the middle of the table and various child-sized scissors around. When Taako inhaled, it still smelled strongly of lavender and cleaning chemicals.

Fancy boy hurried back into the room, money clutched in his hand.

"Four dollars and seventy-two cents," he said, pushing the money toward Taako. "He's, uhm, he's getting his fingernails painted right now, so he couldn't come, but he'll be by later!" He pulled up a chair for himself, scooting towards Taako. "May we do magic now? Please?"

"Pretty sure it was eighty-one cents," Taako said, picking up a penny. Fancy boy faltered and frowned, looking ready to get back up. But Taako turned the penny in his fingers. Using just a little Prestidigitation, he turned it into a dime. Fancy boy looked so excited he nearly rocked himself out of his chair. When he got his balance, he scooted forward eagerly and leaned in to look at the dime.

"W- wow!" he said. "Are we- can you teach me how to do that?"

"This?" Taako said, holding up the dime. "This is illegal, no, I will not be teaching you that. Keep your nose clean, kid, goin' through court is a mess these days."

"Oh," Fancy boy said. "Well, uhm. Is there any legal magic you can teach me, sir?" A pause. "Pretty please?"

"I'm sure I can find somethin'," Taako said, setting the dime down. It flickered back into a penny. "What's your name?"

"Angus, sir," fancy boy said.

"And it's just gonna be you today, huh?" Taako asked, peering through the door that he had come through. "No one else wants to take a stab at the ol' magic game?"

"Oh, uhm, no sir," Angus said. "They're all pretty into Fantasy Fortnite right now."

"Ah," Taako said. "That'll do it, yeah. Alright, Anges-"

"It's- it's Angus, actu-"

"Here's the deal," Taako said. "You wanna learn magic, you gotta be cool. Are you cool, Anges?"

"I- I like to think I am!" Angus said. "I can- Mr. Highchurch says I can hang. Is that anything?"

"Sure, sure," Taako said. He checked his watch. Three more hours of this shit. And then six more weeks after that. What had he gotten himself into? "We can work with that."

[serpercival]

Hiiiii this is bfpierce hello I’m loving the fox!trapper series so far but i have one question that’s driving me INSANE so I’m completely new to this magical realism or whatever it’s called and his ears are driving me INSANE so i think in chapter like two or something of the mating habits of the American red fox it’s mentioned that these fox features developed later rather than him being born with it (unless I’m misremembering it lol i have read like ten chapters since then) so that makes me wonder does he have two sets of ears or just the fox ears? also ily mwah <3

HI HELLO!!!!! Aah I'm so excited to get an ask about this :3 In my head he only has the fox ears and I believe @trappper-johnathan has mentioned picturing the same. His hair's puffier thanks to the undercoat and he wears it a little bit longer to hopefully cover up the lack of normal ears so tbh from more than speaking distance it's probably a little hard to tell at first glance. I'm literally in the middle of writing a scene where BJ gets to do a pretty thorough exam and this is such a good reminder to include a bit about that dksghsghshg. It is, of course, extremely sexually charged.

I'm really into speculative biology thanks to following Biblaridion's Alien Biospheres from the very beginning and my subsequent mild insanity about what the hell Doctor Who's Time Lords look like on the inside, so one of the major things keeping me hooked on this concept has been trying to make all of these things vaguely anatomically possible. God knows if I'm succeeding. I've drawn diagrams but I am not an artist by any means so I sincerely doubt they would be helpful for anybody except for me.

Please send more asks if you have more questions, I would be unbelievably delighted to answer!!! It's made me so happy to see the positive response to fox!trapper, it's such a goofy concept but he is my best friend.

ALSO. Your Coda series has been so much fun! Loving every single piece of it. I'm deeply unwell about Requiem for a Lightweight and the fic associated with that episode knocked me out of the goddamn park.

[meandaupod]

HEY I JUST WANTED TO SAY I’ve listen to this podcast like… 3? times now? (lost count) and OUSJFISJJFHKSJJKFNJDHG ITS SO GODDAMN GOOD!!!!! I’ve been binge-relistening today while gardening and it’s SUCH a comfort listen PLUS the theme tune is EPIC (literally the best ever podcast theme) and the story hits so close to home about fandom and life in general it’s PERFECT!!!!! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY AND I DO A LITTLE DANCE TO THE THEME EVERY TIME!!! Thank you so much for creating such a cool amazing brilliant podcast!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my gosh this is so sweet thank you! @sounddesignerjeans knocks podcast themes out of the park. I can’t wait to let you all hear Selkirk’s some day…