#who knows if ill actually write it

[microwavebeeep]

of all deancas episodes which one is your personal roman empire? the one that you keep thinking about for some reason?

(the despair goes without saying)

[dennisboobs]

:) i certainly have no issue dressing in drag :)

^guy who has no issue dressing in drag btw

glenn said that dennis' drag name is victoria von hemen btw

(Source)

[lemongogo]

they should get to kill each other at least twice .i think

[autisticrosewilson]

Um if you write Jason having to get drugs for Catherine I want you dead btw. Not only does it tell me you assume the average drug dealer would give the hard shit to a very small child and then not supervise them at all (classist stereotype that all drug dealers are inherently evil + lazy writing with no grasp on reality) and you genuinely think that Catherine was CONSTANTLY high, as if that's even possible without overdosing far sooner than she did. That's without even getting into the bad mom Catherine propaganda.

[psychotic-nonsense]

(Continuation of this if you want context, plus its extension)

Wayne hasn't ever had anyone to really worry about. Not since Al disappeared to start his own life, only to fuck it up worse than he feared his brother would. Wayne still doesn't have to stress, though. Steel bars, concrete, and Al's own shoulders take that load off.

Wayne doesn't need much either, too old to wonder what his life would be like with another, with a little one, with anything or anyone. He has his simple trailer in a simple corner of a simple town, his heavily physical but satisfyingly simple job, and whatever stray animals find comfort under his porch. He's friendly to whomever crosses his path, and quietly grins the elderly respect in response.

He's fine with all that, the closest to comfortable he's been since he was a little kid visiting Georgia orchards.

That makes Chief Powell's call one faithful autumn evening the most exciting thing to happen to him. Well, more terrifying once he realizes Powell is calling from the station. Outright chilling when he says Wayne needs to come pick up his family.

His hands are shaking as he gets into his little pickup and pulls out of Forest Hills. Can't breathe as he passes stop signs and rolling acres of land. His mind is racing, afraid that the bars weren't strong enough to contain his last remaining family member, wondering what the hell Al got himself into this time, fearing his guard might come down once again to let his baby brother crash in his too small trailer and start the process all fucking over.

Wayne doesn't need much, but his weak heart craves so much more.

He pulls into the parking lot of the police station a bit sloppily. Grips the wheel white-knuckled for too long. Leans his head on the metal when he finally gets out and slams the door. Takes a deep breath and steels himself for that dirty grin to break his walls down just like poor Elizabeth.

Powell meets him at the door, sour but definitely not a little confused. For some reason that scares him twice as much.

"Evenin', Chief," Wayne greets him still. The title still sounds bitter so soon after Hopper.

"Evening." Powell tips his hat, pleasantries just as strained. Nods his head towards the back of the station, carefully stepping away from the wall and walking forward. Wayne's feet carry him in stride no matter how much he wishes he could just turn back around to an hour prior. "Didn't think we'd see you here."

Wayne nods at the new young secretary at the desk, a smile never felt so forced. His face falls in a tired sigh as he looks away. "Don't I know it," he murmurs. He watches their feet, too scared to face that face head on.

Powell stops towards the end of a hall, claps a hand on Wayne's shoulder, scaring him stiff still. Looking up, he sees a new expression. The usual respect towards those his age is there, but there's some guilt and fear and something like sympathy. "Look, old man..." Powell's jaw twists silently around words he doesn't have. When he finally speaks, it's slow and careful. "I don't know if you knew about this, but if you didn't, I'm so sorry you had to find out this way."

That briefly drops all the fear out of Wayne's body, plummeting straight into confusion. Powell doesn't notice, taking the last few steps to open the door at the far wall, stopping inside to hold it. His mouth forms something that Wayne's ringing ears can't hear, but his eyes see Munson. Wayne rushes forward in a flood of adrenaline to see whoever is there and-

The wide Munson eyes. Elizabeth's long, curly hair. Al's gangly height.

The boy - younger in spirit than in age - pacing in the small waiting/holding room snaps his head up to face Wayne and freezes. He looks just as scared to see Wayne as Wayne is to see him.

"Heh-Hey, Uncle Wayne!" The anxious smile and fake jovialness brings out those patented Al Munson dimples. Almost distracts Wayne from the plain terror in every fiber of the kid's being. His eyes constantly snap over to Powell, and every time he makes eye contact with Wayne he tenses like he's afraid of an explosion. Still, the kid hides it behind a cautious wink and dual finger guns. "Nice of 'ya to help me out!"

Wayne is sure he's still gawking like a fish, so thankfully Powell takes pity. He places his hand on Wayne's shoulder again with a deep sigh, pulling Wayne away. "Yup, caught Eddie here driving a van without a license plate. Or a license." Powell faces the poor old man still stuck in place, expression more apologetic now. Saying 'Sorry you're stuck in this situation.' without an ounce of the sympathy from before.

Wayne, mouth still agape, glances back at the kid - Eddie. His grin is still way too wide as he stares anxiously at Powell. Upon seeing Wayne's eyes again, he meets them with the loudest silent plea Wayne's ever seen. 'Dear god, I'm so deeply sorry, please just get me out of here.'

Finally, Wayne slowly closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, looking at all the facts before him. Trying to keep his mind focused on the practical. There's a kid here with your name and your family's traits. His name is Eddie and he's more scared than a newborn kitten. He doesn't want you there and you don't know if you should be, but either way, right now, you're all he's got.

Then he exhales, opens his eyes, sees that Eddie looks twice as scared now. He nods to the door, to Eddie's shock. "C'mon, son. Let's get you home then."

Eddie was already a pretty pale kid, but now he's almost ghostly. Still, he just visibly swallows, nods, and walks to the door, head bowed. Wayne goes to lead the way, hearing the kid behind him mutter, "Thank you, sir." to Powell.

That's the first tell. Al would never teach his son to respect cops. 'Dirty pigs,' Al always said, and never showed an ounce of civility whilst in their hands.

The second is his complete silence as they walk back through the police station. Eddie doesn't say a word, hell he's whimpering like a lost puppy behind Wayne the entire way. Wayne nods a goodbye to the clerk, yet Eddie remains quiet.

Elizabeth's soul is too damn bright for her son to be so dull so soon, fear be dammed. Wayne's seen her shaking in her boots at the sight of a mountain lion, and still she whispered jokes at its expense.

The last tell comes when they finally get outside, and Eddie sees Wayne's old pickup. You'd think he'd have relaxed at the sight of freedom, but it's like he's looking at Charon's boat to ride into hell.

That's what tells him Eddie might not have just been scared of the cops. Maybe Eddie's scared of him.

The realization sends Wayne's heart 6 feet under, the absence replaced with a thick blob of dread. They're both stiff getting into the truck, simultaneous door slams hardly felt in their already jittering nerves. Wayne's arms feel numb buckling his seatbelt, his entire body following suit as he slumps heavily in the worn seat. He's overly aware of the tense presence beside him, trying to get it out of his empathic mind by rubbing his face.

He finally chances a glance to his right, and finds Eddie looking horrible. He's sitting bunched up on the chair, knees pulled up to his neck and arms wrapped around his torso, gripping hard on the leather jacket. He's looking profoundly away from Wayne, head almost turned to the bed in his efforts.

Wayne can't handle the sight, so he looks away. Wayne can't handle the tension, so he goes to speak. "Look, Ed-"

"I'm sorry." The kid beats him to it, says it in a rush like he can't handle any of it either. And like he's afraid of Wayne's response, he just goes off in a desperate ramble. "I'm so goddamn sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to rope you into this.. I didn't even know there was a Munson in this town, let alone this whole damn state, but the officer said I could only get released by family and wouldn't listen when I told him I didn't have any and I just wanted to get out because Steve's gonna kill me and half this town if he finds out I'm stuck in jail over something so stupid- but-but then he said there was a Munson in town and I heard y-your name and hoped uncle was good enough... Look, you can just kick me out and I'll go and you never have to see me again-"

"Woah woah, hey, kid, hey," Wayne interjects softly, trying so hard to wrangle the wild words of whatever this kid is saying, hoping it'll rope his own thoughts with it. Eddie's jaw immediately snaps shut, and though he's not attempting an owl turn anymore, his face is bunched up in fear and obviously holding back tears. Worse than Al's puppy eyes, violently so.

His mind scrambling in a dozen different directions, Wayne tries focusing on one thing at a time, starting with the one he deems the biggest. "You say you don't have any family...?"

Eddie shakes his head hard, hand reaching up to cover his face with a strand of hair. "Orphan," he whimpers. "I'm not from here..."

Coincidence then? That this random kid with his last name and his brother and sister-in-law's appearances just isn't Wayne's kin? Odd, but anything is possible, he supposes. Or, heaven forbid, he is still related to Wayne and something happened to Elizabeth, her poor son left to fend for himself...

Wayne'll go along with the former for now, but he'll get a damn blood test before the month is out, just to be sure. "Alright... Now, this Steve fella, you say he's gonna hurt you if-"

Eddie immediately rushes up, pain replaced with overwhelming concern and shame. Eyes wide and scared, hands waving around. "No no no, not like that!!! I meant it in a cool way, Steve's, like- my only friend in this place!! He lets me stay with him, and he's all protective and shit..." Eddie cringes inward, like he's just said something bad and is expecting a retaliation. "Look, Wayne? I'm serious, you don't have to worry about me. You don't even have to drop me off anywhere, I'll pay you back any way you need, but please don't stress yourself out-"

"No way, Eddie." Wayne cuts him off. He stares right into this kid's eyes and says softly, "Not when you look like my brother and his ex-wife." Fear and confusion flicker on Eddie's face. He's at least quiet now, so Wayne takes the chance. "You say you ain't from here. Where are you from then?"

Eddie flounders, then let's out a stuttering laugh. "Just- uh- you gotta trust me here, I'm not-" He gulps, a hand running into the crown of his head before winding down to tangle in his curls. He looks up at Wayne with Al's pleading eyes, begging him to leave instead of stay. "You won't believe me," he whimpers.

Wayne doesn't even hesitate. Won't fall for those god. Damn. Eyes. "Try me."

- - - - -

Steve's sure he's gonna burn a hole into his parents' stupid shitty carpet at this rate. Gonna start chewing up his actual fingers and rip out his hair one strand at a time.

Eddie still isn't back.

He said - this afternoon - that he was gonna find a car today, something to get around so he doesn't jeopardize Steve's ""precious baby."" They were gonna get him a proper license tomorrow. But he's not back yet.

Nancy and Robin have been scavenging the entire town. They found a beat up van pulled off in the empty grocery store parking lot, so violently Eddie, but nothing more. The kids have been blowing up the radio calling out to him, but there hasn't been a single response. Eddie knows how important their radios are, he wouldn't just not respond unless...

Oh fuck, what if something happened? What if the Upside Down came back early, and Eddie got roped right in? His obsession with their show isn't enough standing toe-to-toe with a Demogorgan or Demodog or Mind Flayer, it can't be. What if something happened and Eddie overestimated his survival chance and they'll never see him again oh god Ronnie's gonna find a way to their dimension and kill them all with her bare hands-

The sound of a motor suddenly invades his white noise brain, and he hears it cut off in his driveway. Thinking it's Nancy's with some kind of news, he flings the door open. Almost breaks down when he sees a random pickup there. Nearly collapses to his knees in relief when Eddie steps out, visibly rattled and scared but in one piece.

Steve doesn't hesitate to call out to Eddie, immediately rushing forward to take him in his arms. Relishes in Eddie's tight grip in response. "Idiot stupid goddamn it Eds Eddie you scared the piss shit outta me don't you dare do that to me again you impossible future man Jesus fuck" Steve just rambles straight into Eddie's shoulder, on the verge of tears.

It isn't until another door slam stabs his ears that he hears Eddie's responding ramble. "Forgive me I'm sorry this was the best I could do I got arrested and had to get out and and-"

Steve pulls away from Eddie to face the pickup truck, just in time to see the driver walk up to them. An old man, someone Steve is pretty sure he's seen around - small town, he's probably seen everyone. He's still in peak Protective Harrington mode, so he immediately pulls Eddie behind him to place himself between the two. "Hi, yes, thank you for bringing Eddie back, what else do you want?"

The man, unaffected, just sighs and meets Steve's eyes. Says words that make Steve's heart stop.

"Pardon me, son. My name's Wayne Munson, and I just got Eddie out of jail. Now I'm not too sure about you, but I do believe I've been promised an explanation?"

[al-luviec]

id like to thank ninjago episode snake jaguar for everything but nothing all at the same time

[electricpurrs]

tex red vs blue is insanely transgender but im the only one who sees it that way because im crazy in the head.

what if there was a past version of yourself. a woman, a wife, a mother, with long hair and a sweet smile. and she died long ago. and you are her. but you are not her. you're nothing like her, but the people who knew her desperately want you to be her, want to preserve the memory they have in their minds of the woman they loved through you. but you never asked to be her, never asked to carry the burden of someone else's expectation of who or what you should be. you have a new name. you prefer to go by this one. people remark on how weird it is that it's a guy's name. sometimes the people who loved [the past version of] you call you by your old name. they are not referring to you when they say it. you live in the shadows of someone who's long gone, and you're something different now, but you don't feel like you're ever allowed to define yourself on your own terms, to be your own person, to control your own life, because you exist solely through the memories people had of you. and the longer she has been gone for, the more desperately people try to get her back, the less you resemble her and the less you know who you are, or if you ever even got to be anything at all. what i mean is that transition could have saved him

[mengyan]

i had been made into an archer, the shadows suiting me best; you were a sun-bright girl forced into immortality, eternal servitude to chosen sacrifice for the people.

i think the first thing you taught me was absurdity. no one that knew me ever dared— through these years i’d become as much of a man as the rest, and it was rare for someone to think of wanting me. not that you did— did you? did you want me, wen xiao, or did you not think so much and just trusted that i would catch you?

sleep was always restless when it came. the heartbreak in a-heng’s new-blue eyes always marked the end of my dreams, because i was too afraid back then to turn around and see the rest of him. one month was enough to grow sick of my chambers, and i retired only when i could no longer keep my eyes open.

but then: a forest, a sea. fog cleared and the ink of you kissed my palm, calling me awake.

xiao, for daybreak, but if i allowed my tongue to loosen just the slightest— xiao, for you.

was it then that i became unable to see much else? was it then when i started seeking you first in every room, your voice in every pitch, your hands, arms, fingers touching mine— and me racing to reach you before you changed your mind? was it then that my heart wavered, and i thought, perhaps, that the dark wasn’t so lonely after all?

i never intended to keep you. i knew your eyes strayed elsewhere— i always noticed you first, but so did he, and him, and everyone that has ever met you. the fate of a goddess, maybe, to be beloved by all, to spill her love as floods to the people— but i knew you had long found your home in the soul of one. bloodbound by contract, kindred through heart and mind— how often i’d find myself rushing to stand before you only for him to already be there. 

the place by your side was never meant to be filled by me. but wen xiao, i’m no less absurd than you taught me to be. i would pray to a false god if it would make you safer; i would shoot even at the heavens if they tried to take you. flesh and blood is all i can offer you— is it too much to let me shield you with it?

later the worst of winter stole away your beloved, your closest friend, but kept me. still alive, rosy-cheeked and frostbitten on my knees in front of you, but the snow might as well have buried me too. live with me, die with them— and you picked up the dagger.

what does that mean, wen xiao? what am i supposed to do about what that means? you pulled me from the abyss, but am i not worthy enough to do the same for you?

the cold began to cling to me. one by one we lost the best and bravest of us, and i could do nothing to stop it. i thought myself useless, a drag, but you took my hand and said, so earnest, so warm, so thawing— i need you. you wouldn’t lie to me, but how badly i wish it were the truth.

it had been at least four fortnights since i’d ceased being afraid, since the fears in my heart stopped festering. they never disappeared, but i could stare at them head-on now, knowing that what a mortal lacks is only the difference of a body. you said that you thought of me as irreplaceable, and so i believed that’s what i was.

a fool’s tenacity is, perhaps, the strongest of all.

i woke to everyone but three gone, your tears pouring from the skies. he left to him white streaks in his hair, horseback roaming, world seeking; he left to you an age-old vow on paper, in jade, an impermanent parting, a once-more isolation.

and you left to me not even a farewell.

how is it that the demon hunting bureau is fuller than ever yet so grave with silence? how is that what i guard is no longer home to anyone that used to live in it?

i must be going mad, sometimes, to hear bells that no longer ring, bickering that never ends, idioms i’ll never be able to correct; to smell food i’ll never taste again, wine i’ll never get to drink, sulfur from cases unsolved; to see golden eyes, the rustle of notebook pages, the swoop of a brush— and feel the lilt of you, so willing for me to stay.

and so, absurdly, ridiculously, stupidly— i’m still here, wen xiao, and this is how i’ll remain. come and see me just once, and ask me what i asked you. three hundred years in a sundial: was it hard? the rest of my life with only your memory to keep me company— i’ll answer you the same.

don’t you want to know what my big-as-him secret is? i’ll give you a hint: if you see him in the rain, i see you in stone. just as pillars hold up these roofs, this city— the cliff i hung from was too-steep, yet you held me by the soles of my feet, dug yourself into my palms, and said look up, pei-jiejie. dawn has come.

the morning will always return after night. but wen xiao, when will you?

[lvminisciel]

you were many, many things

both the goods and bads. the once and not. you were a lot of things, yet nothing at the same time. you were mine. you are gone. you knew the depths of me. you know nothing of me. you were all i needed. you are all i ask. in this fraction of kindness you sprinkled, i yearn. i wished to be yours once again. to lie in your arms. to embrace your warmest hugs. basking in your sunshine beneath the stars. tainted in your kiss beneath the scars. to hold you close so i won't lose you ever again. to write another chapter with you. you. you. it's always you and never once me. 

i'm sorry for loving you, my little dove 

[bread-wizards]

That fireside chat has me thinking about Dorian's views on leadership and how it was influenced by his home and parents.

[sieglinde-freud]

oh im obsessed with this actually… who ever wrote this one i am kissing u on the forehead and hugging you real tight… inigo is such a loverboy im kkkhhhhhhijnsdnfng

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Warden stared, open mouthed, at the demon in front of them. He was alive. He was really alive. It didn't seem real, and they were half tempted to pinch their skin between their thumb and forefinger. A voice spoke up. A normal human one. Not the shifting cadence of the creature who identified himself as Hush. The murderer.

Nor the calming lull of Vega's voice in their head. Warden turned their gaze towards the human, recognizing their Freelancer core instantly. Their eyes narrowed slightly.

"He uh," Hush stepped between the human and Warden, a warning expression placed on his face. The human continued speaking from around Hush. "He said he doesn't remember anything since the Cacophany?"

...

What?

Warden's head snapped back to look at Vega, eyes widening once more. The closer they looked the easier it was to see the lack of recognition. None of the warmth that had slowly filled his eyes throughout his interactions with them. Their hands clenched into fists, nails digging into their palms.

"But you can help!" Hush chirped. Warden didn't look at Hush, keeping their eyes on the demon they had once thought of as untouchable. This was an absolute disaster.

[techno-rat]

techno and his relationship to dehumanization is SOOO important to me .

[ap0110-and-c0]

*Staring at my Hakukai time loop fic plot, sweating* Anyways time to write a drabble!

[bedforddanes75]

fucking crying at swifties posting her lyrics and talking about "shes such a poet" "this clears _" and i read them and its like. "i killed your mother but shes always gonna be mom like bomb because youre bombs to my heart" or something Like please you arent helping yourselves

[goodluckclove]

Listen: I accidentally drank more than I expected tonight. I'm about to play Rollplayer with wife but before I do let me just throw it out there that when I hit 200 followers (I'm at 175 now) I'll post the human on robot sex scene I wrote for a failed novel like five years ago.

It's the only erotica I've ever written and I don't think it'll count as erotica to most people but I don't actually think it's terrible.

Don't let me forget. Clove commits to the bit. I love you all drink water think about a friendly frog.