#I just like Error better he’s funnier

[neon-skeleton99]

It’s so hard being an utmv fan but not liking ink. Fighting for my life out here

[aidaronan]

The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.

Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.

He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.

Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.

He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.

Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.

Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.

He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.

"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."

"Which was?"

"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."

"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."

"That's really nice, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"

Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.

He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...

He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.

He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.

He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.

It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.

"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.

Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.

He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."

"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.

"You made this whole thing?"

"I did."

"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.

He nods. "For you."

"Why?"

There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."

Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."

"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."

"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.

"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."

Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.

"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."

"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"

"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."

Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.

[harfanfare]

Idia drabble, fluff, lots of couple banter

Your wishlist containing released games is empty.

In the next several minutes after saving a title to one, you can expect a notification that the game is getting downloaded, and a mere seconds after that—several messages from your boyfriend.

“thought u would never play it lol”

“weren't you supposed to be studying??”

He sends a meme degrading your hierarchy of values as if he were any better. It is followed by a request.

“stream it to me when you play it”

And you do, after thanking him yet chiding him for wasting too much money on you without a second thought. His reply was a string of emojis and guarantee that he is doing it all for himself, because “educating you on the topic of latest games is his duty” and he cares about “the boyfriend points”.

“I hope my love’o’meter for u was broken by all that pampering lmao”

“waiting for my cg to load up…”

[NAME]: “not enough affection points”

“damn”

“i need a walkthroughyt to this route”

Idia has you join a voice channel, with you sharing your screen. Playing a game in a separate dorm is a whole different experience than having him beside you, with his hands almost trembling to grab your controller if you couldn’t get past a certain level.

He would always wait for you to ask him for help, though. Then he could let the feeling of self-satisfaction sink in as he easily guided your character to another enemy to slash.

If he only has you on the voice chat, you might be able to finish the game almost fully by yourself.

You can hear the soft sound of his keyboard as he plays something as well. He divides his attention between you and his entertainment, and he throws in commentary to your playthrough, teasing you when you can’t find a secret key to the special gate, bullying you when you find the puzzles too hard, or when you pick the wrong dialogue option.

At some point, you might try to (playfully) mute his microphone, but you can only have eight seconds of silence before he hacks into the options.

“No need to be jealous of my gaming knowledge,” he exclaims, and you know he has that big stupid grin on his face. You huff, and he hums. “But if you want me to help, all you need to do is just ask.”

“I want to go through this game myself!”

“Okay, sure. But you know you have already missed the opportunity for the best ending, no?” He laughs. “That’s what you get for muting me, kitten.”

No need to spoil the ending just to get back at me, you’d love to say, but you learned that the shy boy who couldn’t hold your gaze several months ago is actually a big tease. You must’ve grown too much on him, as he would have continued the bickering even if you showed up in his room. No social anxiety towards you—that’s a bit of a shame, he was cute when you first started dating.

…Well, Idia you know now is a cutie as well, even if he can be very annoying sometimes.

“Enough. I’m going to play my otome games, bye.”

You log out, and shut the stream, chuckling all the time. A funny feeling tingled your heart, like always when you won (or have you?) in banter in Idia: your heart is warm enough to probably melt through the ribcage, but a subtle alarm rings in your head. Idia will probably take revenge for this.

He must already be in distress. He doesn’t like you playing otome games alone, as if you could have ever preferred a 2D boy over Idia. The thought makes you laugh.

You plop on your bed, unlocking your phone and tapping an icon of the name game you’ve installed. Although playing it with Idia would have been funnier, you are going to play him just out of spite.

…And after that, you will send him a wall of text about those handsome characters, because he needs to be updated on your current obsessions.

The title screen appears before everything crashes and the screen goes black. Several messages in neon-blue futuristic font colour appear one by one.

An error has occurred.

Caught exception:

Traceback (most recent call last):

File “characters”, line 46, in script

File “stats”, line 153, in script

File “story”, line 665, in script

File “achievements”, line 411, in log.1

File “backup_data”, line 139, in log

To continue:

“[Name]-san. Please come to our dorm. My brother is moping (so he won’t be finishing his project anytime soon, which is, really bad) and I would appreciate you having mercy on him.

Once you come, I will restore your data! It’s a promise :>

— ORTHO”

…Damn those Shrouds.

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & SLAPPING THEIR ASS .

characters. xiao zhongli kaeya diluc childe alhaitham kaveh x reader genre. romantic fluff / suggestive an. feeling a little goofy a little silly today!!! please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

albeit disgruntled at first ngl

he’s like ???????what. why. huh. what

also has a blush on his face bc you touched his ass

(please do that to him again) (it's funny)

zhongli

doesn’t comment on it until you do it the second time

tries to do it on you. it fails bc you start giggling

“was it supposed to be funny?”

tries to ask you not to do it again but ofc you do bc ur such a silly goose y/n!!!

kaeya

slaps ur cheeks back without hesitation

he just (does a 180) SLAP

ngl it was funnier in my head. he slaps hard though smacks forehead

kisses you after as a way of apologising bc of the bruise..

diluc

kind of goes wtf y/n in his head

doesn't slap you back. start grovelling for it

smack him one more time maybe that would do the trick

(it doesn't, crepus raised him to be a gentleman)

childe

dirty dirty y/n not in front of his siblings please!!!

(i think he would like it ngl. he finds it hot)

slaysies!!!!! slaps u back and laughs

but he hits so hard. like its not funny. pain and suffering. kiss it better

al-haitham

he's the personification of the loading emoji

15% .... 40% .... 60% ... error 404. request timed out

please don't smack him i don't actually think he'd take it nicely

yes, even if his booty do the jiggles

(its so funny so you can try though)

kaveh

slaps your ass back harder, doesn't feel sorry for it

even if you whine in pain.

comical, maniacal laughing as he spins around in a black chair for comedic villain purposes

slap him back please. do not feel sorry for it because he certainly will not

a/n: idk why i wrote this. sorry yall

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @his-kikufuku @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiy @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @lemonswriting @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @yzeniko @starz222 (send ask to be added to taglist)

[lostfirefly]

Please don't say you're gone forever, 'cause I can't hurt no more (Ch.1)

This idea came from the dream. Again :)) Sorry not sorry :)

Buggy and F!Reader.

Description: You're the flower shop owner who has a long-standing relationship with Buggy. You haven't seen each other much in the last few months. He finally arrives to see you, but he's overtaken by fit of jealousy during the dinner.

Warnings: Buggy The Jealous For No Reason Jerk Clown, established relationship, arguing.

Words: 1637

The title is taken from "Gone Forever" by Wearing Scars.

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @gingernut1314

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 2

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were sorting out a new delivery of flowers when the bell on the door of your store rang loudly. “Just a minute, please, I’ll just put the flowers in the vase and come out to you!” you shouted from the back room. 

“Miss, I can’t wait a whole minute. I would like to buy a bouquet of beautiful roses, but I’m in a hurry!” An insistent male voice said from the next room. 

A shiver ran through your body. You quickly placed a fresh bouquet of roses in a large ceramic vase and headed into the hall. You opened the door and couldn't help but smile. 

"Hello!" you said as you exhaled. 

"Hey, my sweet cookie!" He stood near the cash register, leaning on the table. 

Your blue-haired man with a big red nose and his famous makeup. Your favorite pirate. Your favorite clown. Your beloved Captain Buggy.

"Finally!!" You ran to him and wrapped your arms around his neck tightly. "What are you.. How are..? Why are..?" You started kissing him on the lips, cheeks, temples, avoiding his nose. “I missed you so much!”

"Answering all your questions at once. We needed to resupply, and I said to dock our ship at your island. I really wanted to see my cookie." He smiled widely and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

You felt the warmth of his touch even through his white gloves. 

"For how long?" You asked quietly, running your hands over his forearms. 

"Two or three days."

“Well, it's better this time." You laughed. “But I need to finish up some work tasks at the store. Can you wait? I’ll close it early today.”

“I’ve come such a long way to you, and you still ask? My sweet cookie, you hurt me.” He shook his head and chuckled.

You smiled, kissed him on the lips again and quickly ran to finish your work. Buggy was wandering from corner to corner, periodically visiting you in the back room to distract you. 

After finishing your work, you closed the store, took Buggy’s hand and led him to your home. On the way you asked him about his adventures, about the sea, other pirates and where he would go next.

“Come in. I’ll make us tea.” You led him into your house and closed the door. 

"Tea? I thought we'd do something else." He said with a slight croak in his voice. 

“We have three more days for something else. Tea first. Are you hungry? I can cook something.”

Buggy shrugged. 

You suggested him to help make a meal together. You opened the bottle of rum just to make the cooking process funnier. When the dish was ready, you sat the plates with food down at the table. 

You sat on his lap, constantly looked at him, smiled and blushed every time he said that this was the most delicious dish in the world. You cannot stop running your hand over his red and white bandana and didn’t know how to stop smiling.

Buggy kissed your hands, your cheeks, your lips and you blushed the whole time.

While you were talking about everything and nothing, there was a knock on the door. 

"Are you waiting for someone?" Buggy asked in surprise. 

“No. I don’t know who it is. Please wait, I’ll be right back.” You kissed him on the cheek and ran to open the door. 

"Tom, what are you doing here?" Your old friend was standing on the threshold. Tall, pumped-up brunette with brown eyes. 

“I thought you were sitting alone. Me, Billy and Drew are going to a bar and I thought I should invite you to join us.” He leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms. "So. Get ready, darling, let's go and have some fun!" 

"Sorry, I can't, I'm busy."

“Come on, pretty girl, we had so much fun last time!" 

“Tom, I’m sorry. I’m busy, I have guests. We’ll talk later. Bye-bye!” You quickly pushed him out of the doorway and closed the door. 

You walked back to the kitchen.

“Sorry!” You hugged Buggy's neck from behind and kissed his cheek. He turned around. 

"What happened?" You asked, carefully removing your hands from his neck.

"Who was that?" He asked dryly and turned his gaze to you.

“Where? Ah! This is Tom. I told you about him, remember? The guy we lived next door to when we were kids, our parents were friends. Well, somehow we became friends too.”

“Just friends?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, why?" You asked, sitting down on the chair.

“Well, I don’t know. He comes to you almost in the middle of the night to invite you somewhere, calls you a pretty girl. Maybe you have more than just fun spending time with him.”

“What? What are you talking about? I didn’t think about anything bad. He’s cute, of course, but we’re just friends and that’s all.” You took his hand. Buggy looked displeased and pulled his hand out of your hands. 

“Of course he’s cute.” He mumbled. “Did you just go to the bar?” Buggy didn’t take his eyes off you. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean. You said he's cute." 

"Oh my god, are you serious? Why are you clinging to words?"

"I'm not!" He rose his voice.

"I'm not making a complaint to you. I could make a claim against you with the same zeal. You generally disappear at sea for months. And taking into account the fact that you have pretty girls in your crew..." You took a sip of rum from the glass. 

"I had nothing like that in my mind, but thanks for the hint." He crossed his arms and leaned on the back of his chair.

"Buggy, are you okay today? Why are you acting like this? I told you he's just a friend. I wanted to spend time with the person I love. Oh, by the way, where is he?" You angrily put an empty glass on the table. 

Buggy was silent for a second. “You started it yourself...” 

“I didn’t start anything.” You took the fork, twirled it in your hands and threw it on the table. “You're the one who got mad for no reason!” 

“So why the hell does he come to you here? He also talks in such a tone. No one has the right to come here at all!” He continued to glare at you.

You looked at him and didn’t know whether to cry or get angry. "Nothing works." You said in a whisper. 

"Nothing works?" Buggy asked in surprise. 

"Our relationship. Nothing works." 

“Sorry, what?" 

“Can't you hear me? Our relationship. It doesn't work like that, Buggy. Relationships are built on trust. I can't do that. You disappear for months, I don't hear anything from you. I don't know if you're alive or dead. Will you come? Or you won't come. Maybe you've already forgotten about me and exchanged me for the first girl you meet in every port. You come when it's convenient only for you, but I don't torment you every time with scenes of jealousy."

"I've asked you a million times to join my crew and stay on the ship with me." He spoke dryly and through clenched teeth.

“And I told you a million times that I can’t stay with you on your ship. At least for now. I have a job, a store, old parents, and friends here.” 

“You’ll see your parents and friends, just less often. What’s the big deal?” He shrugged.

“What's the big deal? I can’t give up everything just because a little grown-up boy wants it so much!” You raised your voice.

"What do you mean?" 

“I can't leave my parents. They are old. Do you understand? They need me. Just because no one cared about you before doesn’t mean my family is like that. We care about each other. They care about me and love me.” You felt your head starting to hurt. “I can't. I just can't. I’m going to sleep." 

Buggy looked at you, not a single muscle moved on his face. “I offered you to live with me. I offered you freedom and the ocean. But apparently, you don't really want to leave with the captain freak. And if you don't want it now, then you'll never want it. It will be better for you to stay with this Tom, am I right?”

“I told you, I don’t want to go on the ship right now. But I wanted to be in a relationship with you. The relationship with you was important to me. But last time I see you once every three to four months and then if I’m lucky. But for some reason, even in this case, you don’t trust me.”

"Wanted? Was important? In the past tense?" He asked in surprised tone.

“I don’t know. Have you noticed that in our last meetings we often quarrel? I’m tired. From scandals. From everything. I thought we would sit and talk. I've been missing you all this time. And now I don't wanna t... I don't know what I want. I wanna sleep.” 

“You suggest that we go to bed or that I should leave your house altogether with the phrase “I’m tired of everything” and “was important? Maybe you'll just say that you're tired of me? Just say you want to leave me. Just like he once left me. Just like everyone always did, everyone abandoned me."

“Oh, no, not again. Have you tried at least once in your life not to blame this Shanks for everything?" You grabbed your head and put your elbows on the table.

Buggy abruptly stood up from the table. 

"You're starting to behave like that again. You know, i think I need.. no.. we need a short rest from each other." 

"Rest? You mean break up?" 

"Rest is rest, Buggy. It's not a breakup.”

The last thing you heard was him slamming the front door.

“Fuck!” You thought. 

[doublekanble]

dead meat

Alastor/reader (gnc)

romantic-platonic

word count: 11.1k

Or, the progress of going down and deeper. (please treat this as if theyre a bunch of drafts coupled together (they are) this read so much funnier if you keep in mind the fact alastor have genuine feelings/genuinely cares for you but he’s just batshit insane) its 13min til 2am if theres an error no theres not tw: gorish talks and imagery littered thru specifically 1, 5 and 7. alastor chased you down in 7.

1. Because you listen.

When you finally came back — frayed at the seams, run-through you with a headache and a rock in hand. You looked down, the warm wetness oozing from him and seeping into your pants quickly turn cold. You couldn’t tell what you’re looking at for a minute, adrenaline still running through you and your head ache just a tad. When you finally see the pink bits and the leaking blood, your breath runs ragged and your thought run miles. You try to remember all the warning your mother gave you about getting involved with a man like Alastor, you don’t know how you’ll tell mom she never gave you any advice or warning about this.

“God… Oh my God what did I—What—“

Not a single book warned you about the way you physically feel ill touching a body growing cold. So with guts churning and the prickling on your skins, you scrambled to throw yourself off and backing away from the body on all four. Desperately, you called out to whatever is there and beg in your head to wake you up from this nightmare of a show. And when you hit something distinctly warm and alive from behind, you call out to it, thinking it’s your mother, coming to save you from this, to tell you that it’s alright and that everyone make mistakes and this is nothing more than a bad dream. You’ll wake up from this soon, in your childhood bed, in your childhood room, in your childhood house and you’ll be anywhere else and not here.

But when the warmth embraces you, and you feel a warmer breath by your right ear, pressing a soft smile and a bliss-filled chuckle into it, it hit you that your mother would’ve hated you if she sees this. If she sees him.

“Oh, mon Chéri, I knew you’d have it in you” You hate the way the voice swallowed and a take a breath, as if mesmerized by the sight, like you but so wholly unlike you, it whispered in your ear, “What a show. What a show.”

Your eyes is focused on him, but not on him, not a person. That couldn’t be a person at all. Saliva tasting bitter, the bile rising in your throat hurts as you desperately tries and tear your eyes away from it. But enraptured by the intricacies inside his head, you only do so much before finding yourself looking closer for something you couldn’t understand.

“Don’t worry,” setting his lips on your temple, he sigh into your skin, one hand held onto yours and gently rubbing the red from your fingers onto his, as if helping you clean up, “It’s your first time, everything will be so much better once you’re used to it.”

Your eyes flickered between the thing and whatever of yourself visible to you. It’s all red, so much red. Its head, his head was caved in, you can see the front of his skull, everything else is everywhere. How could this ever get any better if it’s going to be this red? Was it going to be this red every other time too? You can feel your fingers going numb from the grip you have on that rock, you can feel the dent from where it dug into your palm, you can feel clearly the traces of well-kept nails running down your left arm from where he tries to pull you away. And every bit of it is red. And suddenly your clothes and his grip and the night air and your skin felt just a bit too tight, too suffocating. Your brain pulses and compressed against your skull. It hurts to think, it hurts way much more to speak.

“I—I don’t want to – I can’t-“

“I thought I couldn’t too, until I did it again, and then again. And then I realized that this,” raising the hand he held onto so kindly, almost like guiding your eyes to the sight. While the pain in your stomach is almost unbearable, he couldn’t sound any more ecstatic. “This, is freedom. Our freedom”

You were sure that the freedom that you’ve been yearning for wasn’t supposed to be associate with a corpse. No type of freedom will ever be going to drive someone to cracked open a skull in the middle of the night. There’s nothing but pure malice that will drive someone to bring a rock onto another man’s head and refuses to stop even when his ears bleed and he stop fighting and started begging. Your mother hated Alastor, and she never break his skull open. You hated your mother, and you never break her skull open.

You want to open your mouth and tell him to shut up. You want to say your mother was right, you shouldn’t have gotten involved with him, no matter how inviting his offer is. You shouldn’t have run off night after night chasing the daylight with him. He is a scoundrel, he is disgusting, he’s the worst type of delusional criminal there is, the most pretentious man in all of Louisiana. But you can’t, because you just maimed a good man and refused to hear his pleas. With nothing left to you, you all but break down into his arms.

“There, there~” he coos into your hair as your wailing get swallowed up by the cold night air, “I’m right here, aren’t I?” if only he’s anywhere else but here with you, mouth spewing reassurances one after the other.

(It’s alright, he’ll take care of it today. It’s ok, he’ll teach you about some other day. From now on, you’re going with him, whether liking it or not.)

2. Because you wouldn’t

“Isn’t he one of those highbrows you like to rub shoulders with?” her tone accusing and upset, you almost choked on your tea when she slapped the papers down in front of your food and walk out the living room. Even though you have an idea about what she talk about – the news came out just in time for it to be covered on the radio first, you still pick it up and scanned your eyes along.

“So I’m supposed to remember every face I came by now?” you glowered to yourself, “How do you know who I’m ‘rubbing shoulders’ with anyway?”

Over the sounds of your heart beating wildly in your ears, over the humming in your head, you hear her mumbled something about “that boy” as she starts to vacuumed the carpet. It’s a ridiculous thought, but for a brief second, you were sure she’s going to ask you about your numb fingers.

‘SON OF FAMOUS MUSICIAN, REPORTED MISSING AFTER NIGHT OUT-’

It’s so odd to you, how much he worth, yet how little people care. Name printed in bold font atop news about the fast declined of the economy and crashing stock markets a full week after he disappeared. He never told you his full name, nor does anyone around him ever make mention of it despite their occasional jeering and jokes. You didn’t bother with it at the time, you two weren’t the most talkative person in the room, let alone together.

Then again, it does make sense. He told you before that he’s not proud of what he came from or what he became, under drowsy lights and forced to sit side-by-side like all the other night. You still can’t drink, he still can’t dance while being miserably drunk, and nobody else wants to babysit a miserable drunk. You don’t get why anyone needs you to look after him, despite being so out of his head, he seems perfectly well with handling himself.

Your lift the tea cup to your dry lips and take a sip, the tea tasted bitter.

A voice loudly called for you, irritation written clear in it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and all but jump to her spot in the small hall, unwilling to let the two talks for more than necessary. Your mother stand with a huff to her posture.

“It’s him again.”

You laugh dryly, “It’s always him, mom.” tugging the receiver from her hand, you bring it up to your ears. The moment you do, a chuckle rang out. You shivers.

“There’s the lad of the hour! Why, I almost thought your mother was trying to stringed me along before shutting the line off again!” the mother in question grunt and grumble about how annoyingly persistent he is, you agree. Last time she did so, the phone kept ringing until she relented. “In any case, I hoped you’re all up and ready today!”

“We have nothing planned today.” Your reply was immediate and flat, hoping he would leave you alone, but Alastor only laughs in an almost affectionate tone.

“And I’m here to changed that!” he exclaimed, you run a hand down your face and try to keep your calm.

“Alastor, John’s missing. This is not the time.” you whispered sharply into the receiver, hoping to whatever’s true he’ll shut his trap for once. You’re not interested in getting caught by the neighbours over the phone of all thing.

“John? Now that sounds familiar…” he pauses, you can almost see the way he turn a brow up and pretends like he’s lost in thought, it’s almost endearing, “Why, isn’t that the lad I named on the radio yesterday?! What a horrible case! Some people are saying he finally throw himself onto a train and-“

“Alastor!” at the sound of your own voice scrapping in your ears, you pauses. You relax your grip and lower your voice, doing your best not to pay attention to the figure peeking out from your kitchen, “Listen, I don’t have the time to play around. Get to the point.”

“Clearly, you’ve the time for nothing, you and your mother…” sighing heavily, he dropped the act. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop kidding. We’ll talk once I get there. Be ready in twenty.”

“Wh— Alastor!“ The phone turn dead in your hand and you’re left standing in the hallway.

You stare at the receiver in shock, then, you grip it. Holding back the urge to break it open over the table it sits on, grinding your teeth, you place the receiver back. You clutched at the end of the table and count to ten, jaws aching and head spinning from anger. Even with your head hanging low, you can hear footsteps falling along the hallway. Your mother red house slippers stand in view from the side, you wondered if you can burn it and buy another pair.

“You’re going out with that creepy radio host again.” she’s standing with her hand crossed and an exasperated look, you just know it.

“Mom, please,” heaving a sigh of your own, you don’t want her to rub it in your face, even if she doesn’t know it, “Alastor’s not creepy. He’s a good man, I promise.” you have to believe he’s a good man, after everything. If you don’t, you’ll lose the rest of your mind. You prayed that she leave you alone, but she kept pressing.

“You keep saying that, but I know he’s nothing but trouble. I mean- look at you!? You looked so exhausted every day. Every time you leave with that scurf, you came back looking more lost than before!”

Turning to her, you have a retort at the tip of your tongue, you always do. But the looks on her face was nowhere near what you thought it was, so you stumbled. For a second, your vision blurs and your head spins. When it cleared up, your eyes met.

“That good for nothing man, dragging you out every night! Have he ever asked what you want before?!”

Standing like a cornered rat, you try to find your voice.

“I-“ you swallowed again, “I don’t mind it, mom. I like going out.”

Have your mother always looked this tired and worn beyond her age? It almost as if she’s been holding the world alone. She said your name, and you feel all lost again. Like a small child with bare knees stripped red and wailing for her to come and save you.

“You don’t even like parties.”

You remember how much she always scolded you when you got yourself into troubles, but your mom always patches you up while she does so. In the time frame before your home became more of a house and your front door is a front door without any sort of implications. And then it hit you just how old mom looked now. She used to be so tall compared to you, but now you’re over her slightly hunching figure, a little bit or a lot, it’s just enough to look down on her. Suddenly, the world feels too constricting and your skin feels too tight.

All this time, she wasn’t angry at all, was she? Your mom haven’t been angry for a long time now. But it doesn’t change you, it doesn’t change anything else. You closed your eyes and push a breath through your nose.

“Maybe I’ve changed, mom,” you walk past her into the living and tug on your overcoat with fingers stained red, fighting against the waver in your voice and hoping she won’t hear it, “maybe you should be happy for me.”

Alastor always take less than twenty to show up, but you didn’t know how long he was watching you for before clearing his throat. You didn’t bother to respond, only lifted your head up to make sure it wasn’t some random prude before shifting aside. He have the decency to stay silent and sit down with you on your front porch, offering a sympathetic smile at your sorry state and gently wiped away your tears with his red handkerchief when you refused to move and take it yourself. It wasn’t the first time you sit out and wait for him on the porch instead of listening to her outburst, but it was the first time you ever cry over it.

You wanted so desperately to turn back and tell her that you haven’t change, that you’re still her little kid. The same one that want to sit out the parties and the smokes and the dancing and the jazz just to spent the days working on something with her nearby, in the kitchen working on something or sleeping in the armchair, always in the old set of red house slippers. You want to show her something you make, only for her to not get a single part about it. You want to fall at her feet and begged her to tell you you’re still the same kid. You want her to go back to closing the front door and locking you away from the world again.

But you’re nothing but a rat, fresh off from a murder. You’d soon throw yourself in front a running train than to ever let mom know her child will ever do anything wrong. So you swallowed everything back, stand up, and walked away from her porch with Alastor hot on your trail, smiling all the while.

(you want to tell her you haven’t changed at all, but you know better than anyone else. you thought you know better.)

3. Loosely, you’ll fall.

The show was an utter bore, you’ve concluded. The allure of watching history made quickly died out when it pertains to dancing, something you’ve been watching people do with much more grace. It might’ve been much more interesting too, if the dull drums in your head invites itself out. But even when you step outside into open air outside the theater, it remains.

“Well, that certainly was… something.” Walking after you in a leisured pace with one hand behind his back, another going back and forth on brushing off his coat or adjusting his glasses, to anyone else, he looked completely normal. But you know him long enough. “I could’ve sworn it’s a musical show.”

Usually, it’s fairly hard to catch Alastor in a flustered state, facial or demeanour wise. You supposed years of practice couldn’t really stamp out personal discomfort. You would’ve felt bad, but you don’t have enough strength to bother.

“There is musical, alright,” you grumbled, a hand to your temple as you walk on without waiting for him, “I’d say it’s too much even.”

Obediently, silently, Alastor traces your footstep as you seethe to yourself. You were supposed to be back in bed and sleep away this headache and your free day at this hour. It’s a shame you just can’t help from talking back to your mom and chased yourself out of the house, onto the street, and right into his games.

You wish you could rub those kissing scenes into his face and mocked his offbeat timid nature and tell him to go shove it. For once, the mere thought of intimacy itself reminds you of that night and forced you to think about how Alastor always stands just a bit too close to you, always just behind you. It takes everything in you to not scratch at your wrist and tears your skin open, so you opted for patience and sympathy, no matter how much the image haunted your eyelids said otherwise.

Before you know it, the voices and the hollers and bumping shoulders traded itself for a single bell chiming, then hushed murmurs and echoing clinks of porcelains and glasses filled the space. You invited yourself to a small spot off in the corner with a lone seat and hunched over with your left hand over your face, while Alastor comes up to the counter. When he came back, he pulls another chair from the table right next to yours and all but covered you from everyone else’s sight. You stare at him in between the webs of your fingers while Alastor rest his chin in his right hand and hums all softly at you.

“You should’ve told me it’s still there, dear. I wouldn’t have bother dragging you out.” His free hand brush against yours in a gesture you can blindly guess as benign and kind. Unlike the Alastor from this morning, unlike him in the theater. Unlike Alastor from the broadcast and unlike the man holding onto you that night. You’ve seen this so many times before in so many people, it’s just make-believe for adults and you’ve already seen this in him. You thought you have, anyway, so you take your hand away from him and look at the approaching waitress. It must’ve been a trick of the light, the way his eyes grows just a bit darker. But you still think hard about what you would’ve said back then.

“I need to get out anyway, better here than there right now.” You would’ve been fine with the idea of going back in, but by the time you do, Alastor was standing in front of you, and you would rather let him think whatever he wants than to pissed him off even further somehow.

“Better with me~” When push comes to shove, he is a bitter man with a silver tongue, you’ve seen him pour drinks onto people and getting away scot-free. It’s always funny to everyone else in the group, until they’re at the direct end of his bitter temper.

Alastor have never even so much as raising his voice at you in anger, but you also thought he would never kill anyone, so you refuse to take any chances. As long as you stay cordial and don’t step past your line, Alastor won’t ever have a reason to. So long as you keep to your leash, he’ll be pleasant and let you go home soon. It leave a nasty taste on your tongue, how you know exactly what to do with him.

“Whatever you say, Alastor.” Gently nursing your headache, you sits a bit straighter. You really couldn’t tell what’s worse, the oddly plastic smell of the café, or the light from the bulbs burning your retinas. “You never told me why we’re out here in the first place.”

Clapping his hand together, he grins. “Oh, yes! Terribly sorry my dear, I figured we shouldn’t talk about it over the party line. Who knows what else is lurking, yeah?” you stay seated despite your instinct telling you to run. You know this was coming anyway, “See, we didn’t get to celebrate the other day. You got so sick, after all-”

He kept on talking, seemingly perfectly fine with you tuning him out. Even if he’s not fine with it, he can’t do anything to stop the almost freakish way statics filled your head and washes your entire body in a cold and numbing wave of sweat, electrics ran through your head while you grips your hair. And it’s almost like he knows what’s going through you, because he wiped away a drop of sweat running from your forehead with a knowing smile.

“Be careful now, if you get sick, I’ll have to take care of you.”

“As if you can take a step into my house.” As if she’s ever going to let him take a single step inside after today. But he kept that irritating look on him, if only the thought of tearing it off his face doesn’t hurt you so badly.

“Who said it’ll be at your house~”

His chuckle right after shuts you up. Right, you forgot. Of course you did. He have a lodge somewhere near a bayou. You weren’t sure whether Alastor meant it as a tease or a threat, you don’t really want to think about it. So you forced a laugh when he grows just a tad silent. Tilting his head, he looked at you with something you couldn’t tell, and like aways, he switch topics without a bat of an eye while you sat there with sweats running down your back in the middle of winter.

You reach for your cup and bring it to your lips without bothering to know what’s in it, trying to follow along while Alastor rattled off a to-do list he made without your consent for today’s hangout. A visit to a confectionary shop, a trip to the tailor, quick stop at a small dinner he discovered recently and, if there’s still time, he can take you to your book shop. As your vision blurred for a second, the bitter taste of coffee hit your tongue, and it took everything in you to bite back a swear and to hold your mask of politeness. Accidentally flitting your eyes up, you catch him smiles. But it isn’t the kind of smile friend gives to one another, it isn’t the type where two people love and care for each other. So you keep your gaze low and keep drinking the coffee he ordered, at least they do a decent enough job at taking your mind off of John.

(somehow, it felt so familiar, it wasn’t until the moment you crawl back into your warm bed after a cold dinner that it hit you. it wasn’t against your ear this time, but it was the same smile. you swallowed the acid in your throat and thought about how many people saw it just before they lay six-feet under.)

4. And when you finally fall,

John wasn’t that much of an asshole, but he lives like he’s the most wretched man in all of Louisiana. A shadow of a person, beyond that of a ghost. Alastor told you that the only reason anyone ever stuck around is because John have more money than anyone could ever understand, and as long as you can withstand the awkward silent and the sneers, you can count your worries for the night’s drinks goodbye.

Coming from a long and well-known line of gifted artist, John was set for life, even with his less-than-responsible lifestyle. His great grandfather wrote plays, his grandfather paint, his father plays the piano and John drink himself blind. He stop touching anything that even insinuate the idea of creating art on his twenty birthday. Ever since, he wanders the night, going from place to place to emptied his family’s wealth into pretty floozies and drink away his own shame.

With an eerily out of place grin, just close enough to his normal happy demeanour to count, just a bit too wide to be normal, Alastor show you off to John like an exotic pet while his friends already dash off to dance.

“Oh! And how could I forget, this one might not be able to play it, but they have a fantastic taste in music!” then, he turns to you with a friendly hand on your shoulder and a sympathetic look, “If only you ever have the means to pick it up, you’ll be the talk of the town for sure!””

“Surely.” John reply with an odd laugh and look you up and down, suddenly the idea of sitting back with him and watching the others felt just a bit too much for you. But you only brushed their comment off with a wave of your hand. Acting like you didn’t pick up on how John down his drink with just a bit more fervour and Alastor smiles breached the border of normalcy before he pats your back gently, as if encouraging a shy dog to socialize, before inviting himself out and leaving you alone with a man you’re not sure was all there.

You tell yourself you just won’t go with Alastor to his night parties next time, but you pick up the phone every time. And every night you have to sit right by John’s side in complete silent when everyone spreads across the bar.

At first, it was somewhat scary and unpleasant. Then, it was awkward and uncomfortable. Every time you sit right next to him, he would scoff and chuff at you under his breath. Refusing to ever talk or look at you. Unless it was time to leave, John will never do anything more than call for a drink and then sip on it until he needs another one. Every time Alastor came to check up on you, he would smile at you sweetly and make a jab or two at John. You figured by now it’s a show of sort to him, but sometimes you still make a small effort to shut Alastor up and direct him back to whatever he was doing before. It became your new normal for half a year at least.

And then one night, completely worn out and tired with the day and the loud jazz inside a loud room with lousy lights and lousy companion, you stand up without a word to anyone and went out the back door. Outside in the cold air of October, you huddled by a wall inside the back-alley and pulled your knees to your chest. Staring at your hands, you can only sigh and ruffled your hair, digging the palm of your hand into the base of your skulls and wishing you can break it open.

“If you’re so tired, then why not haul yourself back home?”

Jumping up with a yelp, you clutched at your heart, completely missing the door creaking open the first time. You forgot how John even sounded like for a minute, voice low and gruff, completely contrasting everyone else in the group.

“…” halfway peeking through the door and staring impassively, you wondered why he even bother when he seems so done with you. Words right on the tip of your tongue, you him a passing glance, debating whether this worth an excuse out of your pocket. He cut you off before you even begin to open your mouth.

“What? You’re deaf now?” John shouldered the door and step outside fully, standing in front of you.

“…And if I am?” You frown, this feels too much like being scolded. At least his voice is kinder to your ears . “Better off if you are.” He chuckled, “…So?” You would be upset, but you’re too tired and he’s not leaving you alone, so you shrugs your shoulder apathetically.

“Horrible day at work, fight with my mom, then got dragged out here again.”

“Heh, figured.” You glare up at him, he raises his hands up in defence, whiskey with a single ice cube in its glass clinking as he does so, “You seems miserable whenever the lot isn’t around to see.”

You want to spat at him, what would he know about you? But you know he’s right. It really does feel miserable, going all the way out here just to sit and having nothing to do. So you dropped your head into your palm and groan.

“Ugh-…Is it that obvious?”

He cackle, you take it as a yes and sink your head a bit lower at the sound.

“Why not just—not come?” taking a sip from his whiskey, he sat next to you without invitation, “You can just say no to him, y’know.”

“As if I haven’t tried.” You grumbled, but stop when he raised a brow at you, motion for you to keep on. A bit clueless, you shrugs again, “What? You know him for longer than me. You should know that.”

John looks at you as if you’re stupid, and you’re beginning to think you are. Pointing a finger at you, he asked you about your job. Then with a nod, he stated outright.

“But you don’t do anything for him.”

You sputtered, the irony of a drunkard basically calling you useless and being right about it doesn’t escape you at all.

“What does that have to do with anything? He’s a persistent guy, that’s it.”

“That bastard doesn’t bother hanging around anything that isn’t useful. He’s not that type of guy.”

“Then what type of guy is he?” you ask. He looks at you, licked the top row of his teeth, then heave a heavy sigh.

Dowing the rest of his whiskey, John stand up and offers you a hand. You hesitate before slowly taking hold of it and nearly fell over when he pulled you up. He mumbled a half-hearted sorry with a look.

“Not whatever you’re thinking of him, that’s for sure,” he drag you inside by the shoulder, snickering when you try to keep up and failing miserably before slowing down for you, “Now common, I need another drink.”

It’s all John ever told you about Alastor, it’s all you ever need, but you never listen.

-

John didn’t change fully after that night, but he still change somewhat. The John that was so drained and empty was still there, but he sits up a bit straighter, as if managed to confirmed whatever else he have in his head. For three months, you two never talked about what happened in the back alley, nor do you talk at all. He still down enough drink to kill an elephant and lost his balance to the point someone needs to take him home. But he nodded his head whenever he’s not tipsy enough that the ceiling spins like a globe and you catches eyes, and sitting beside him felt a bit less draining and off-putting.

You told Alastor about it later, the conversation you two have in the back alley, because of course you do, telling everything to your good friend. Alastor would then look over whenever John’s acting friendlier to you, because of course he does, and joked about it. You saved him five years of his life, he laugh. You laugh along because his tone seems just a bit off. You sometimes think about who Alastor is, whenever you have a moment to sit back and contemplates everything between you two. But not for long, because like clockwork, Alastor would pull you away to do whatever he wants for the day, and like always, you would follow along with little to no complains.

Sometime before John went “missing”, you break the thinning layer of ice between you two and tell him out of the blue that you never actually touch an instrument in your life, but you wished you have the chance to. You thought he would’ve laugh at you, but he sat through your recount of younger you being enthralled by a street musician, seeing it as a form of liberty you can only hope to capture through any other art you made. He asked why, you said there was no space in your life for making music. Not then, not now. He asked if it’s ever a regret, you stay silent.

You asked him to play you something, he huff a laugh behind his glass, but shut up when you didn’t laugh along. A false police alarm got the place empty enough for your group early that night, and the owner was desperate enough for extra cash, enough for him to mousey up and play a song you remember by heart. He played really well, you told him. His playing is the bare minimum, it lacks the souls his father have, he sneers at you. He doesn’t need to have a soul in it, just get used to being mediocre while having fun instead, you reply, leaning against the piano and staring at the group chatting away from you two. He didn’t bother with a counter, but he kept playing, this time it’s a melody you’ve never heard before. You saw Alastor turning his head to you two, but you pay him no mind and turn back to John. He looked so calm playing something like this.

John trips over his fingers and curses a lot, you tell him to keep playing. Until the song’s finished and you left standing in silence for just a bit, waiting for the other to say something. Turning the word over in your mouth, you’re a bit speechless, like you’re face-to-face with a kindred soul. But there’s no real comfort in telling a drowning man he can breathe, so you say his melody felt like home.

Worn beyond his age and exhausted in a way that’s so out of place for someone who have the world in his hand, his smile was genuine, facing towards you, like an old friend and a warm meal. The bar dives and the social circles Alastor loved pulling you along have always made you feel so out of place. Their grin’s too perfect and their voices too pleasant, all with an oddly rotten attitude. It’s like watching a picture show, it’s not how people genuinely act, it’s the semblance of one.

Maybe that’s why you and John never got along too well, he was too busy hiding his face behind glasses of gin and whiskeys, you’re too busy hiding in Alastor shadows. But you both never play along, and you both never faced each other fully before that night. You hope John never have that realization, the fact you’ve never faced him at all.

Then before you knew it, his face to the ground, all red, turned from you. That’s all you knew about John Holloway, that’s all he ever get to tells you.

(deep inside, you want to say that it wasn’t your fault. but the difference between getting swept along with life and standing in a back alley with blood on your hands is that somewhere in your empty head, you did register his scream. there’s a reason you can’t see his face and there’s a reason the rock was in your red hand, sitting in your red palm.)

5. so far down, you won’t know the way home

The forest floor was red, by the time you realized it.

It wasn’t by your hand, but it’s enough for you to step back and breathe. It always so odd to you, just how easy it really is to see in the dark, even when the moon hides away behind strips of clouds. In the dark, at the dead of night, your eyes should’ve been blind to the red that’s bleeding all over, but it never does. It took you a second to remember what you’re supposed to be looking at, and you turn the light towards the main figure, standing so proudly in the middle of this. In through nose, out the mouth. Don’t focus on the thing below, look at him and smile. He smiles back, genuine joy stiches itself on every corner of his face. If only this flashlight is weaker.

“Sorry darlin’. This one have more fight in him than I thought he would,” he strides towards you, the familiar metallic stench overwhelms your senses when his red hand came up to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear, “Good thing we got it done before he find his way out, huh?”

Good thing he got it done at all, you thought. You can only bother to hide your exhaustion with a mute nod and a grim grin. Knowing exactly how this will plays out again, you remind yourself to be ready. Alastor laughs and pat your cheek affectionately before pulling you by your hand towards the corpse quickly growing cold amongst the grass. As he does, you try to ignore the echoing in your eardrums.

It was gut wrenching at first. The panting, the gasping, frantic steps that echoes through the empty woods, devoid of bird calls, devoid of life. Just a hound, chasing its prey, and a vulture perched on a tree waiting, watching. The choked exhale when they fall, eventually tired out and tripped over themselves or getting a bullet to the thigh. The way they all looked so confused, then they bargain, then they get mad and calls him every name under the sun before shutting up and look at him in the eye. You weren’t sure just how he looked to them, but perversely, you’re glad you never get to see it.

They scream and yell and beg for someone to please come and save them until they can’t anymore, but it felt like they never stop at all.

“Come here.”

He sits you down by the body, open and ready, still holding onto your wrist while you fight every bone in your body to keep your hand still and keep your foot nailed down. His face, flushed with excitement and sweat running down his forehead as he rattled on about how soon, you’ll have enough guts to do this with him instead of only ever following after and picking up the scraps.

“Remember that feeling? Remember the rush?” lifting your clenching fist up to his lips, he smiles and chases your gaze, you stare back, “Etch it into your brain, don’t ever forget it.”

With that, he plunges your fist into the open cavern of flesh and red and it feels so incredibly blasphemous and wrong. While Alastor knitted his fingers atop yours and guide your hand through the process, you feel your senses grows fuzzy around the edge. Half of you wish that headache didn’t die after the 3rd time, at least then you have something else to focus on other than the sopping wet red mush slipping in and out between your frozen fingers. The idea that someone’s inside would immediately cool off after their death is a farce to you, their warmth still so tangible and so fragile it takes everything in you to stop the burning acid from bursting in your throat. He told you on your fifth time that if you vomit on the body, he’ll have you cleaning it with him, sounding just a tad bit considerate, as if the idea of forcing you into doing something you dislike hurts him.

It's almost too much to think about, how you’re becoming something so different, something that’s just enough to his liking, to the point where all you have left are instincts and the alarms in your head. It felt like years ago when your weekdays are filled with nothing but sitting inside your cozy home and looking out the window, hoping one day you’ll be able to experience that high life and being cared for by someone who love you with everything they have, even if it’s the worst experience of your life. It’s almost like decades ago when your thoughtcrimes are no more than passerby on a long day and your smile is a sham but it’s ok because everyone bought into it and you do too. Now you spent your days looking behind your shoulders for excuses while pinprick runs up your neck, waiting for the day you’ll be buried with the people he hate.

You hope when, not if, you do have to, you’ll manage to come up with an excuse to mom for the body in that alley way. You clenched your fist, only the red squelching and spongy inside of a man you barely know respond.

(the hound stare up at the vulture and leave with a red maw, it watches the vulture from the shadow of the trees. the vulture learned to ignore the hound and feast away at leftovers.)

6. I hope you’ll call out for my name.

Unconsciously, you tap your index finger to a rhythm a man showed you some years ago. One you called beautiful, and one that made him smile. Like always, your weary and sunken eye catches red painting your left hand, but you only sigh and return to penning out your letter. A ringing echoes throughout your bleak and empty house, but no voice call out for you. There’s no point in picking up, you simply let the call die on its own. If it’s him, he’ll crawl his way to the front door with or without that call either way.

When the noise abruptly ended and didn’t pick up again, you put down your pen and hold the letter in hands that never lost its stain. Staring down at the words you’ve painstakingly poured over since her funeral, you crumbled the page and held your head. Over and over again, you write and write, hoping that some way, somehow, something can change.

But like always, nothing is enough, so you throw the paper into the small bin next to your seat, holding back the urge to throw everything else on the table with it too; your mom raise a murderer, not an ill-manner rodent. There’s no longer a point in lamenting things that can never be change in your lifetime. You can do this tomorrow, or the next day, or the day next to that, you’re considering how to go out still. As long as he’s not here, that is. You check the clock, eleven and a half, you have around fifteen minutes before he’s here.

Alastor was always suffocating, you thought, dragging yourself to a wardrobe that haven’t felt familiar for more than half a year now. Nosy and meddlesome, it’s something you picked up on even when you were a doe-eye little rat running across the night without realizing you were walking with a hunting hound, but you always thought it was simply how Alastor cares about people. Your mom was right, you were so naïve about him, thinking he can care for anyone else aside from his mother and himself.

He was always suffocating, but ever since the funeral, he all but latch onto you.

The pure black outfit he gave you was something you would wear to mom’s funeral. But coming from him, it makes you feel like a stranger was staring back from the mirror’s view, out of your own skin. So you boxed it and hid it under the sofa after the whole thing.

And of course, Alastor knows this. So whenever he browse through your wardrobe on his own accord, he would always make sure to make a comment about how these plain and boring clothes never look right on you with a good-nature smile. You no longer have the mind to bother with a reply, so you let him do whatever he wants. As long as he get his digs in, you get your peace of mind. The things in here means the world to you, but what use is there to defend something you’ll soon have no use for.

Clicking your tongue, you pulled out something that looks decent for the street and locked the door to your room. You fixed your clothes until it fits right on you and sat on your bed, wondering if you should just stay inside and make him take some couple extra steps. But decidedly, being in your own room with him will always be so much more unnerving of an experience rather than just letting him shuffling through your stuff on his own. So, the door to your room open with a click, and you step out into long familiar but distant hallways. You wish you can unlearn the concept of loving something that isn’t tangible anymore. It’ll make the hallways a bit brighter.

Like usual, you peek into the empty, almost sterile kitchen and walk up to her armchair. After confirming that you’re alone today also, you found yourself back on the sofa with nothing else to do, simply waiting for Alastor. Checking the time again, it’s exactly mid-day now, so his mother must’ve needed help with something, you’ll have to wait for a bit. Gulping down the uncomfortable heavy weight that settled over your heart since a year and a half ago, refusing to ever die, you lie down and close your eyes.

A year, a half, two week and three days, it’s really a wonder how you work. Maybe that’s what Alastor sees in you, a walking list of contradictions, or maybe this is how everyone works, and you were just cruelly kept out of the loop. Even though you never bother to consider her in your own life, ever since a year and a half ago, you wake up staring at the ceiling with bleary eyes wondering what’s she’s doing every day and why you can’t hear her. Then, remembering that she won’t be doing anything from now on, you get up and make yourself breakfast. Sometimes you would still hear someone calling for you, along with the constant ringing from the phone, but then one day, you forgot how she sounded like, so you starts to ignore the calls.

The day you realized you can no longer hear her voice, calling out to you from the door to your house, you’d tried to trace her footstep by opening her cookbook and making the dish she love. One moment, you were staring down into the pages, the next, you’re seated at the counter, surrounded by Alastor’s companions. You’d call for a  whiskey. Everyone find it absolutely hilarious and jokes about your new life while you held the glass in your hand and stare down into the amber-colour liquid. Just as Alastor laugh and reach out for your hand to take it away, talking about how you simply won’t be able to handle the aftermath, you knock your head back and the glass ran clear in one gulp. His friends all cheered for you and shoving another glass into your hand, assuring you’ll get used to this soon, but you don’t know how much you can trust them.

Quite frankly, the whiskey was beyond repulsive. As if you just swallowed flaming charcoal, your throat burns so badly, it’s stopping you from forming a single coherent sentence. You can’t stop yourself from tearing up over it, either, vision blurred and unsteady while a beginning of a headache started creeping up on you, so you down whatever’s in your hand again in the hope of becoming familiar with it fast enough to never have to think twice about it. Before a pretty dame in the group can pass you a third drink, you were hauled up by the shoulder and drag out the door, Alastor hissing a goodbye to the group through his teeth.

Storming off ahead and ranting about how utterly irresponsible you are while you stumbled behind him like a fawn, Alastor would slow down and stare when he can’t hear your soft footstep anymore. You remember walking by a closed tailor shop and flopping yourself down, back against the glass window and weeping without a word. He walked back and sit next to you after a while. You know he’s waiting for you to say something on your own, but you only shrink into yourself. You don’t know what was worse in that moment, the burning in your throat, the head splitting ache slowly brewing or the fact you never know your mother favorite food. How are you supposed to grief someone you don’t know anymore?

In the midst of it all is Alastor, who seemingly lost all of his previous anger. You’ve seen a lot of him over the years, you know he sees all of you. But this is the first time you break down without a word or a reason and you wondered if he feels just as lost and confused as you are. It as if he doesn’t know what to do with you once you actually breaks in a way that doesn’t serve his vision of you, in a way he never have to fix before.

“…Tough day?” with an oddly shy tone, he nudge you from the side, “Didn’t know you’re this much of a sad drunk, honey. Guess I was right to keep you off the bottle after all.” He chuckled, then trail off when you stay silent and stare off into nothing.

It must’ve been no more than ten minutes, but it felt like years before you gave up and open your mouth, voice breaking and quiet. “He made it look so easy.”

“He? Michael?”

He perks up the moment you speak, mouthing off the names of all his associates in hope of finding the one that raises your ire. You would’ve found him endearing if things were different, but you cut him off.

“John,” Then as if it’s not enough, as if Alastor never remembers anyone else, you try to keep your voice even while rubbing your eyes “John Holloway. He made drinking look so easy.” Even without looking, you can see his lips pulled into a taut line.

“Ah, right, John Holloway,” rolling his eyes and shuffling that much closer to you and pulling out his handkerchief, he sneers, holding your wrist still while wiping your face, “No doubt he does. If you didn’t take him out, that chump would’ve drink himself to Hell on his own.”

“At least then he gets to pick his own way out…” You huff.

“It’s been years, honey!” done with cleaning you up, he stuff the handkerchief in his left pocket, “I can’t believe you’re still hung up on him!”

With every word out of his mouth, Alastor’s fake and chipper accent gets just a bit firmer, as if finally knowing what to do. Sitting up straight and pulling his glasses off, he wiped it on his vest and ask dismissively.

“When did he die again? Was it 1928?”

“1929,” you breathe and lean your head against the glass, “Remember that musical you called innovative and new?”

“If only I can forget.” He blanch at the thought of it, you smile wistfully.

“The music was nice, it’ll be nice to watch it again.” From the corner of your eyes, you catches his. You hated how he look so content with this.

“That makes one of us…”

After that, a blanket of silence fell onto you two. With a headache in full swing, you recalled asking whether he ever remembers how they look. Chuckling, he only leans close until your nose almost touch and say that he does. You ask if he’ll ever remember you, he froze and stare into your eyes with an almost incomprehensible look. Standing up, he brushes himself from dust and give you a hand, you take it.

Before you two departed in front of a door that no longer lead to a home, he tells you in an almost too quiet voice that he hope he never have to remember you. You hate his everything in that moment. From how his stands was just a tad bit different from his usual tall and confident poised self to the way he looks so abnormal with the corner of his lips dipped down. You hate how you’ve grown fond of his smile, so you turn and closed the door with a good night.

In the morning, sounding like you just dragged yourself from hell back up, you asked him for a clipped picture from the old newspaper and leave it under your pillow. And ever since, you’ve been rewriting the same letter. To everyone that you ever have a hand on, and to John and your mom. But specifically to John and mom.

John was a good man. It’s a shame he drank too much and care too much in one night. It’s a bigger shame that you can’t keep your thoughtcrime as exactly that, a thoughtcrime. He was right, too. You never knew the man you called Alastor, you don’t think you’ll ever do and you’re happy for it. You only ever find the cowardice to take another man’s life with his help, and you’ll only ever find yourself in more trap than being free from it.

You still bought yarns and cookbooks that you think your mother would’ve love. You come back with enough groceries for two people and the kitchen table are always set for two. You check every day in the kitchen for her still. You still crept up behind the armchair just in case she’s sleeping. Her red slippers still sat patiently just in front of her door. You know she never will be there, but it’s a nice thought. And since mom won’t ever going to be there again, you’ll take a nap. Alastor can have fun dealing with half-asleep you once he’s here.

(you’re woken up by the sounds from your kitchen, the smell familiar. as if finally escaping a bad nightmare, you sprang up on your feet and peek in like a child. Alastor stood at the stove, smiling at you. for the first time in years, his smile didn’t reach his eyes.)

7. we’re going to hell together, after all.

Left, right, right, left.

The silent always puts you on edge, as if there’s something out here, biding for it’s time. If only it’s a beast you can take down with a shotgun. You try to recall the forest trail that you know is somewhere out here as shadows of trees covered you from the moon. But you know Alastor, and you know for a fact that if he wanted to, he could herd you out of New Orleans with just a couple of words and a smile. So you uselessly try to focus past the thundering in your ears, you can’t hear a trace of him anymore. So on the count of three…

Throwing yourself to the right, you almost slammed into a tree as a bullet lodge into the trunk of another just right ahead. A soft chuckle rang out from behind, you kept running. Left hand clutching your right wrist, a sob bubbling up from your aching throat, it’s between running like this and letting the hand ram itself into whatever’s there in the forest. Even if you’re blessed with the chance to get out of this alive, you’ll never have use for your right hand ever again. Bones doesn’t heal right when they sit past five days, but you’re not sure you can even hold a pen with a mangled thumb and a pinkie barely hanging on. You  lost a bit of your will at that, but the silence of the woods draws you from your thought. You want to die by your own hands.

Right, left, right.

But you know you won’t be able to. The moment you let him take you here, you already lost. Alastor knows the woods better than you. He knows hunting better than you. And you’re sure he knows he can outrun you at any time. You refuse to dwell on the meaning of it and push your left hand against a tree.

Another shot rang out, this time hurling right by your head and nicked the tip of your right ear and went into the night. You don’t know where it goes, but you staggered just a bit and nearly launch yourself forward when a small bush snatches the end of your clothes.

“Sorry honey!” his voice gets further and further away while he stand still and yell out to you with a casual tone, as casual as he can keep it, “Frayed nerves and all~” he laughs, the rest of his words intelligible, and then suddenly, the forest went silent again. You can’t afford to stop and think anything through, so you push on ahead.

When you’re stuck with only the breaking and crushing of leaves under foot and your own winded breaths filling your ears, you cursed. Your throat starch, your lungs burns. With every step you take, your visions blackened around the edge and breathing alone hurts so horribly. It’s a blessing you even lasted for this long, you never have to chase anyone like he did. You wishes you burn that letter instead of dropping it in the bin, you wish you burn that house down instead of living with a ghost you can’t see. You wish you burn him. You know something was off with him that day, Alastor couldn’t shut up to save his life ever since he gets the key to the house. But he didn’t so much as uttered a word to you while staring down at the cutting board, but you didn’t care enough to ask him. Biting back a curse when a stinging pain shot up from your ankle, you feel your head spin as a short and pained chuckle escape your dry lips, he was thinking about how he wants you dead, surely.

Left, left? Right. L-

You can’t help but cry out the moment the bullet sink into your right upper thigh and sent you down. You crashed sideway onto the forest floor and black out for just half a second when a rock dig into your left temple. Clutching at your thigh with a broken hand, your laugh sounds unfamiliar to your own ears, almost choking as it drags nails and spikes through your throat, like that of an animal, like you’re an animal. The loss of oxygen is getting to you, the irony doesn’t escape you.

While your body winds down and the pain and exhaustion settles in, you go into the most horrible aftermath you’ve ever have to endure. Your head pulsating with every beat of your heart and your limbs grew heavy and cold. Vividly, you pick up on leaves breaking and sticks crushed under heavy footstep and you abandoned all sort of dignity to scrambled and try to drag yourself away from him, fingernails dug into dirt and grass to pull your lead like body away. But another clink, another shot hit your lower torso from behind as your choke scream got swallowed up by the earth, left to clutch at your wounds with face buried into the earth and tears streaming from your eyes.

“Oh honey, why so sad?” a heel sit on your bullet wound, dancing in circle before he slowly press his whole weight onto it. Your suffocating wail isn’t enough to amused him, but he still laugh with such gentleness in his tone. “I thought this is what you want? Weren’t you writing to dear old John about leaving? Well, here it is!”

The relief he granted you last for all but half a second before he bring his foot down. Stinging, numbing pain spread through your entire body and you’re left gasping for air while he held your shoulder and set you to face him. Hunching over your shivering body with a hand on your face, he smiles. Or at least you think he is, there’s not a point trying to make out a single thing over the agonizing pain that’s making a home in your body. You wanted so badly to just black out and die right here, you pretty sure you did black out at some point, but Alastor slap your cheek lightly and calls your name with almost a whine to his tone. The warmth from his hand stand out amongst the incomprehensible burning of your flesh and the blood rushing through your head, why are you here again?

“Oh come on, don’t leave me hanging like this. You know I hate it when you ignore me.”

You’re not, you want to scream. If there’s anything you can ever say for him to get off of you and leave you alone, you would. You don’t know if it’s the blood lost or the pain getting to you, but your already waning visions of him blurs beyond recognition while he coos at you.

“I guess it really do hurts that badly?” he laughs, “One question solves then!”

At the mention of it, your blood ran cold and the forest felt just a bit more freezing than it already was. Right, he did say something about John, didn’t he? Almost like it was yesterday, when you’re sitting alone in your room at eleven in the morning. Although barely able to remember the exact wording of every letter, you know by heart the concepts and questions in all the letters you’ve written and rephrased a thousand times and over. But the question wasn’t in that one, it was at least several drafts before it, dropped because it was too presumptuous to ask your first and closest victim such a horribly him question. All of it, sitting neatly in the bin right by your writing desk. All of it, he could’ve read in the hours it took you to wake up.

You want to stick to what’s left of you and die raising your head just a bit higher than when you live by not letting him hear a word out of you, either the fact your throat still hurts so badly just swallowing or the fact you know it’s all but useless talking now that’s keeping you. But from the corner of your eye, you saw his right, red hand gripping tightly onto something that you can’t properly make out, and then you remember the reason you never anticipated any of this occurring within your lifetime.

“Th-the letters…” you groaned, “it’s not-you-“

Right, the reason you were caught off guard by him breaking your fingers while pinning you to his car, the reason you couldn’t even begin to make head from tail when he pressed you for the name of whoever it was that makes you do this. The letters that is, for all its intended purposes, your suicide note.

“Yes, yes,” with a draws to his voice, as if he’s tired of this, “Your lovely letters, to dear old ma and John. We both know I read all about them.”

“No-“ you cough, it’s hurts just to breathe, “I wasn’t going to- tell them-“

“Oh, that. I know.”

For just a moment, you’re void of anything. All the pain and the blistering heat and the cold night air leave your body for just a second and left you with nothing at his words. You’re aware of his every movement, even through the darkness of the night. Suddenly, everything is too much, too loud.

“I thought you’re smarter than this, love.” you can’t see him properly at all, but you can’t see him smiling and it scares you,  “It never was just about the letters.”

“Then what-“

Shushing you, he leans down until your forehead nearly touched, you try to focus and find his eyes at this awkward angle but it only worsen the unbearable pounding in your head.

“This, is what you want,” he pauses, you can see the outline of his jaw shifting, like rolling words on his tongue. You want to call him a madman, but you don’t even know if this is him anymore. This isn’t the Alastor you know for years. He would’ve never talk to you without that stupid accent that’s everywhere on the radio. The Alastor you know doesn’t need to considers his words talking to anyone, always with an excuse on his sleeve. And that Alastor would never gotten so close, wouldn’t have sounded so personal. “You said you want to leave. To get to that ‘freedom’, right?”

He sounded so hurt, as if it’s him that’s being crushed under weight with bullets in him and two broken fingers, as if it’s not you writhing on the forest floor, as if he’s the one dying tonight.

“You can’t bear to live anymore, right? You can’t do this with me anymore, can you?” you’re painstakingly reminded of the fact he still have his right hand on you, casually moving it down to your neck while he raises his left. You aren’t sure why, but you still try to claw at the hand clasping gently around you. You think this happened before, but you weren’t sure where the idea came from, the loss of oxygen getting to you quicker than you thought it would. Somewhere in the back of your mind, your fingers, two broken and eight dirtied with dirt and your own blood, it lost the red that have been clinging onto you like a disease.

“Al-“ in that moment, your vision suddenly cleared, like a last-ditch attempt at life. The grip he have around you is like that of a snake, too. Coiling gently and kindly, with a thumb digging into your skin while the inners of your ears felt like bursting open.

“It’s alright, mon Chéri, I’ll help you. I always have, haven’t I?” he always have been helping you, but that was Alastor, your friend and the demon on your shoulder. Not the man that’s staring down at you with such a look and speaking to you with such tenderness and love you can’t begin to dissect.

Desperately, you stare up at the image of an unfamiliar man with voices you’ve never heard before. He smiles a smile so painful, as if losing his mind too, but you can’t tell who he is anymore. Your mom was right, John was right, you’re right, but none of it matters when you’re running out of breath and the rock in his left hand fits so well into his palm.

“I’ll come see you when I’m down there, wait for me.”

Your vision bloomed and blurred away. You stay awake for long enough to hear the first crack of skull, reverberating through your eardrums. You’d stay awake for the second hit, and the third. And you stay awake for just long enough to grow envy of John for never having to faced you that night.

(the hound leaps, sharp fangs breaking tough skin and tearing veins, the vulture, without a mind to think of god, only knows how to cries out.)

[erinelliotc]

Which dub you likes better? Portuguese or english?

Oh, I loved getting this question! I have a lot to say on this subject because I really like talking about dubbing.

Sit down kids, and get ready for a little infodump about the Brazilian/Portuguese dubbing of Ed, Edd n Eddy! (the show has never been dubbed in Portugal. The only Portuguese dub is the Brazilian one, so referring to this EEnE dubbing as "Brazilian" or "Portuguese" is the same thing, same dub).

** I edited this post to make some additions. They're highlighted in purple **

Brazilian adaptation

First of all, it's important to say that here in Brazil, "Ed, Edd n Eddy" is "Du, Dudu e Edu". I already explained it here, but I'll explain it again. The Brazilian/Portuguese version of Edward is Eduardo, and the common nicknames are Dudu and Edu, so they just had to create the nickname "Du" (at least I've never seen someone called Eduardo being called Du) and there you go, we have the perfect adaptation! We lost the "Double D" nickname as we didn't have the issue of "Ed" and "Edd" sounding the same, so they just didn't see the need to keep it. So every time he's called "Double D" they just dub it as "Dudu" too. To me it's one of the best adaptations because it wouldn't sound very natural to call them "Edward/Eds" and it makes a lot of sense:

Ed = Du (1 D) Edd = Dudu (2 D's) Eddy = Edu ("Ed" with a sound at the end)

They even solved the issue of Ed and Edd sounding the same (even though I think Double D is a great and cute nickname and I really like this addition and miss it in the Brazilian dub, but I assume the reason it was added was in order to solve this issue).

Some funny things:

In the first episode (The Ed-Touchables) there's a dubbing error in a scene where Eddy calls Ed by his original name instead of "Du". I don't know how this went unnoticed because he calls him "Du" at all other times. It's only in the scene where Eddy says "Ed! Don't move! And stop giggling!".

There are also some errors in other episodes where they mix up the Eds (it only happens in the first season(s) if I remember correctly). There is, for example, a scene in "Who, What, Where, Ed" (season 1, episode 21) in which Lee in the Brazilian dub mistakenly refers to Eddy by Edd's Brazilian name (Dudu), and this scene kinda pisses me off because of the error but it's so freaking funny because besides them mistaking Eddy for Double D, they also changed her line to something that would only make sense if she was referring to Eddy. She says "Eddy's such a weasel", and they dubbed it as "O Dudu é o mais gostoso" ("Double D's the hottest [of them]"), which doesn't make any sense since Eddy's her crush and it just cracks me up, both for the error and for the unexpectedly somewhat inappropriate line for a kid's show (I think that here in Brazil calling someone "hot" may be a little more inappropriate than in English, at least I guess...?).

Another important adaptation I forgot to mention: since jawbreakers are a sweet that doesn't exist in Brazil (we have a sweet called "quebra-queixo" ("jawbreaker") but it's different, it's just another name for our "pé de moleque" ("kid's foot")), for some reason, they decided to translate it as "balas de caramelo" ("caramel candies"). I have no idea why, but I like that name.

Brazilian dub

The Brazilian dub has a very special place in my heart because it was the one I grew up with, so it gives me a lot of nostalgia, and honestly it's a very good dub in general (I think Brazilian voice actors do an excellent job besides the errors because they're great at making dubs with a lot of emotion and naturalness).

There are even some scenes that I find funnier in the Brazilian dub because the voice intonation is stronger/more dramatic/has more emotion, or because they changed the lines to something funnier (I'm not a fan of changing lines, but I don't mind changes if it's just to make the line stronger and the original meaning and essence of what was said is maintained). Some examples:

"A Glass of Warm Ed" (season 1, episode 19) - Double D saying "Oh dear. An intruder. Eating all the food out of my refrigerator. In bare feet!" in Portuguese sounds funnier to me because his voice intonation in "In bare feet!" seems a little more terrified. This scene always gets me because of the way he talks. I love Double D’s concept of things escalating from bad to worse. Like: An intruder = oh how inconvenient Eating all my food = oh no, that’s terrible! In bare feet! = good lord! that’s TOO MUCH! COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE!!!

"Eds-Aggerate" (season 1, episode 23) - As I said, Kevin's Brazilian voice sounds much funnier to me, so I'll give just one of the countless examples of this because otherwise I'd have to mention all of his lines. Kevin says "Mucky... boys?" — which was dubbed here as "Garotos primatas" ("Primate boys") — and "Baloney!" — which was dubbed here as "Mentira!" ("Lies!/You're lying!") —, and I just love the way it sounds in Portuguese.

"Avast Ye Eds" (season 1, episode 26) - Eddy's line in Portuguese sounds funnier to me because his voice intonation and line seem ruder, more impatient and more tired. In the original dub he says "Hey kid, I'm on my break. Do you mind?", and it was dubbed as "Ô garoto, eu tô de folga. Não enche o saco" ("Hey kid, I'm on a break. Get off my back/Get out of my face/Don't piss me off" [I don't know which one is the best way to translate it]).

"Knock, Knock, Who's Ed?" (season 2, episode 3) - This is one of the best examples I can give of line change that just makes it funnier without losing its original meaning. In the scene where Ed offers a candy stuck to his leg and says "I got this one for Christmas", it was dubbed as "Essa tá aqui desde que eu era bebê" ("This one's been here since I was a baby"). The fun of this line is to express that the candy has been stored on his leg for a very long time, so this change just amplified this, increasing the time the candy would be there and making the line much more absurd and funny.

"One + One = Ed" (season 2, episode 4) - Double D's line in Portuguese sounds much funnier to me because they changed the line to something more direct and less soft (even though Double D's a gentle, delicate and polite character, he's also brutally honest and sometimes says some unexpected harsh things quite bluntly, so I don't think it was out of character for him). In the original dub he says "I best tend to his medical needs. Excuse me", and it was dubbed as "Eu vou ver o que sobrou do Edu, tá? Um instante" ("I'm going to see what's left of Eddy, okay? Just a moment"). This line makes me imagine him literally picking up the pieces of Eddy. I don't know, I'm a very visual and literal person, so this line sounds really funny to me, especially with him saying it with a smile.

"Floss Your Ed" (season 2, episode 8) - Double D saying "Plain butter?" in Portuguese sounds much funnier to me because his voice intonation seems more terrified. In the original dub he just sounds confused and speechless to me, whereas in Portuguese he seems more disconcerted, shocked, perplexed, astonished, intrigued and disturbed that Rolf would suggest that Ed eat plain butter. I like this because Double D's a character who's easily impressed and shocked by things and tends to have strong reactions to absurd situations or even situations that aren't considered absurd to others. To me it makes perfect sense that he'd be terrified and have a reaction that highlights the absurdity of the act of eating plain butter. To me it's like it went from "Plain… butter? 😶" to "Plain butter!? 😨".

"Honor Thy Ed" (season 2, episode 17) - I was a little disappointed when I watched the original episode because I really thought Eddy said what he said in the Brazilian dub and I really liked that line, but then I found out it was actually a line change. Ed says "You scared Double D, Eddy" and Eddy says "I did, didn't I? C'mon, I got an idea", and it was dubbed as: Ed: "Assustou o magricela" ("You scared the skinny guy") / Eddy: "Ah, eu sei disso, Du. Adoro deixar ele nervoso" ("Oh, I know that, Ed. I love making him nervous"). It sounded so teasing, a bit EddEddy, I really loved it and I was totally convinced it was the original line because it sounded so much like something Eddy would say.

"Jingle Jingle Jangle" (Christmas Special episode) - Okay, so let's talk about really inappropriate dubbing. There's a scene where Rolf originally says "You have pulled Rolf's eggplant, half-man, half-woman Ed boy", and it was dubbed as "Impressionou o órgão em formato de berinjela do Rolf, Edu" ("You impressed Rolf's eggplant-shaped organ, Eddy"). I think it's so funny how explicit that line got, but it kinda saddens me that they cut out the "half-man, half-woman" part.

Kevin's Brazilian voice is one of the funniest to me. I'd say Alexandre Moreno is one of the most famous Brazilian voice actors with one of the most memorable voices. He dubs Adam Sandler (the work for which he's best known), dubbed Ben Stiller, Steve Carell, Antonio Banderas, Josh Duhamel, Martin Freeman, dubbed Puss in Boots from Shrek, Alex from Madagascar, Syndrome from The Incredibles, Dracula from Hotel Transylvania, Flapjack, Flint from Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, Denzel Crocker from The Fairly OddParents, Adam from Bee Movie, Numbuh 9 from Kids Next Door, Krusty from The Simpsons, and many others. Even though I love Kevin's original voice (and especially his laugh, which I particularly prefer in the original voice), I think the Brazilian one sounds funnier and more informal.

Sarah's Brazilian voice actress did many important and memorable voices too. Iara Riça was the main voice actress for Harley Quinn, Brenda Song, Tara Strong, dubbed Tails, Blossom from Powerpuff Girls, Frankie from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, Cree from Kids Next Door, Fionna from Adventure Time, Tecna from Winx Club, Courtney from Total Drama, Charlotte from The Princess and the Frog, Princess Su from Mulan 2, Yumi from Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi, and many others). She was one of my favorite voice actresses, but she unfortunately passed away on April 27, 2021. I think her voice was perfect for Sarah. She was able to do annoying and striking voices just right.

Eddy's Brazilian voice is quite different, but in the end I think it suits him because it's a very strong and chaotic voice too. Ricardo Juarez dubbed Will Ferrell, Taz, Johnny Bravo, Kratos from God of War, Melman from Madagascar, Barney from The Simpsons, Fuzzy from Powerpuff Girls, and some others.

Lee's Brazilian voice was also a voice that I think was really great for her. Nádia Carvalho was a famous and remarkable Brazilian actress and voice actress. She dubbed Bette Midler, Queen Latifah, Miranda Richardson, Edna from The Incredibles, Dexter's mom from Dexter's Laboratory, and many others. She also unfortunately passed away on July 11, 2022.

Fun facts:

Double D and Rolf share the same Brazilian voice actor and I think he did a great job with both of them. His voice makes Double D sound a little hoarse, something that I think suits the character and contributes to making some lines funnier and stronger/more dramatic. Luiz Sérgio Vieira dubbed Static from Static Shock, Matsuda from Death Note, Numbuh 4 from Kids Next Door, Bloo from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, Timmy from The Fairly OddParents, Jonathan from Stranger Things, Plagg from Miraculous Ladybug, Ralph from The Simpsons, Gibby from iCarly, and many others.

Nazz's first Brazilian voice actress is a mystery. We have no information on who she was, and she dubbed her for like, almost half of the show (I still need to check if it's correct, but according to the wiki she dubbed her in: season 1, season 2, the first half of season 3 and one episode from season 4), being replaced by Sylvia Salustti, another memorable voice (she dubbed Tweety from Looney Tunes, Pearl from Steven Universe, Rapunzel from Tangled, Eva from Wall-E, Foxy from Chicken Little, Ring Ring from Pucca, Amy from The Big Bang Theory, Rachel from Glee, Phoebe from Friends, and many others).

English/original dub x Brazilian dub

However, I prefer the original dub. I really love the original voices, especially Eddy's (God bless Tony Sampson). Most of Eddy's scenes are always funny to me just because of his voice tone, everything he says is funny to me because of the exaggerated, loud and chaotic way he talks. A voice that I think is much better in the original dub is Jonny's. I don't dislike the Brazilian voice, but it's just too... normal. Jonny's original voice suits his personality very well because it shows how nuts and lunatic he is. Jimmy's original voice also sounds a little more, well... gay.

I think the EEnE crew did an excellent job and I'm so grateful that Danny Antonucci was the pain-in-the-ass perfectionist guy telling them to repeat their lines until it was good enough because we really got a show with wonderful and memorable lines. I really love it when people are genuinely passionate about things and really care about making them perfect in an obsessive way. I'm very much like that... and of course Antonucci is too, that's his Double D side. I also love how this is reflected in the fandom. I see that this fandom is full of people who don't like the show in a simple and shallow way, but in an obsessed and passionate way (it's one of my reasons for thinking that EEnE is a show that primarily appeals to neurodivergent people. We just hyperfixate on things, in this case EEnE, and cling to them like they're the most important and amazing thing in the world to us).

I'd say the only voice that leaves me torn about which one I think is better is Kevin's. But apart from him, I think all the original voices are better, but please don't get me wrong. As I said, I love the Brazilian dub, I just prefer the original one, that's all. I'd say that the original dub is 10/10 and the Brazilian dub is like 8/10.

Things in the Brazilian dub that I don't like

There are some things that aren't necessarily bad, it's just something that I personally don't like for particular reasons and personal preferences.

One of my biggest complaints about the Brazilian dub is something very specific: Ed's dub. I'm a perfectionist, very obsessive, so I like dubbing being as close as possible to the original one and suffering the less changes as possible (I think changes when translating a show/movie/series/book/game/etc are welcome for the reasons I previously explained, and also to adapt to our context and culture, such as changing the names of the Eds), and that's why I tend to prefer watching everything in the original dub, and even when it's dubbed in Portuguese I like to watch it with subtitles (for this same reason, and also because I have a hard time just listening to things because I probably have Central Auditory Processing Disorder. I wish I could turn on subtitles in real life too xD). Ed must be the character who has undergone the most line changes, I believe intending to make him more goofy and dumb, but at the same time I don't understand the need because his original lines were already very random and strange. Apparently, this happened due to the voice actor's own personal decision (I want to make it clear that I think the voice actor is really great and remarkable, but in this particular work I don't agree with his choices for the lines). Clécio Souto is a famous Brazilian actor, voice actor and announcer. He dubbed Chris Evans, Andy Samberg, James Franco, Jared Leto, Kel from Kenan & Kel, Castiel from Supernatural, Banana Joe from The Amazing World of Gumball, Lenny from Shark Tale, and many others. He created 3 catchphrases for Ed that he used very often in place of the original lines, which I genuinely can't understand because Ed already had catchphrases, so why not just keep them? According to him they wouldn't be funny to us, but I don't understand why he thinks so. Well, so in the Brazilian dub, Ed loses his original catchphrases. He no longer talks all the time about buttered toast and gravy, and his lines about chickens remained, but were changed to "galinha com quiabo" ("chicken with okra") (a Brazilian dish), which I really dislike because to me the point is that he likes chickens themselves, as animals, alive, and not as food. Him saying "Who's there?" was also replaced by one of his new catchphrases, "Nem doeu" ("It didn't hurt").

Here's a video of him talking about it:

Translation of what he says in the video:

The character became known for the 3 line changes that I invented. Exactly, this one, Ed. I said "I love chicken with okra!". It didn't have that in the original. I don't remember [what he said in the original]. I change lines so much... I already look and say "I'm not gonna say that because it won't be funny to us. I'm gonna say something else", then "I love chicken with okra". Every time he bumped into something, he said something stupid or didn't even speak and had his back turned, I said "It didn't hurt!". A line change of mine too, "It didn't hurt". It became a catchphrase. And the other one was "Cute/pretty" [I don't know a proper way to translate it]. "Aw, I'm cute/pretty!", which was his too and didn't exist [in the original]. All line changes, all line changes.

There are so many line changes that I won't be able to mention them all, so here are a few examples, but keep in mind that there were A LOT of line changes in every episode:

"An Ed Too Many" (season 1, episode 11) - Instead of saying "And she's a good speller", Ed was dubbed saying "Ele vai ter um fim desgraçado" ("He's gonna have a disgraceful end"). The voice actor thought it'd be funnier to have Ed respond like a jealous older brother trying to protect his younger sister, and I must admit I found it very funny, especially because he speaks in a very normal way and not with an angry voice tone.

"Look Into My Eds" (season 1, episode 13) - Instead of saying "book" and "buttered toast" when Double D asks what he sees in the images, he says "meleca" ("booger") and "salsicha estragada" ("spoiled sausage"). And in the scene where Eddy asks about the hypnotizing wheel and Ed says it was "buttered toast", it was dubbed as "a black lollipop".

"A Boy and his Ed" (season 1, episode 16) - Instead of Eddy saying "Be Kevin's friends? We'd have a better chance of Ed growing a chin" and Ed saying "I wish I had 4 stomachs", it was dubbed as: Eddy: "Ser amigo do Kevin? Seria muito mais fácil se o Du deixasse crescer uma barba" ("Be Kevin's friend? It'd be much easier for Ed to grow a beard") / Ed: "Será que eu ia ficar bonitinho de barba?" ("I wonder if I'd look cute/pretty with a beard"). I really dislike this line change because they cut out the joke about Ed not having a chin, and removed him having a completely random line that has no connection with what Eddy said, something that's part of his character since he's supposed to be the distracted one, and thus, have nonsense lines and random thoughts.

"One + One = Ed" (season 2, episode 4) = At the end of the episode, instead of referencing the events that occurred previously by saying "Jimmy! You got your line back! Is it on wrong?", "Baby sister! Take your mouth off again" and "It's stuck", he was dubbed saying "Jimmy! Você sentou ao contrário. É pra lá, bobão" ("Jimmy! You sat backwards. It's that way, silly"), "E aí, maninha chata. Vamos brincar?" ("What's up, annoying sister. Let's play?") and "Ih, engasgou" ("Sheesh, she choked"). I honestly don't understand why the voice actor changed these lines. It just makes Ed look like he's being completely nonsensical not only to the other kids but to us too, because the fun of that scene was that he seemed crazy to the kids because they don't know the context of the things he's doing and saying, and not him being really random.

"Stop, Look and Ed" (season 2, episode 16) - Instead of saying "Why's Double D wearing pantyhose on his head?", Ed was dubbed saying "Tá parecendo o coelhinho da páscoa!" ("He looks like the Easter Bunny!"), which was very creative indeed.

"Your Ed Here" (season 4, episode 13) - Ed's classic line after the classic kiss scene "One is a lonely number, Double D" was dubbed as "O 1 é um número só, não é, Dudu?" ("1 is a single number, isn’t it, Double D?"). The biggest change was in the intonation of his voice, so instead of it being a sad statement, it turned into Ed just asking a random and stupid question. "One is a lonely number" may sound strange at first glance, but it's clear he means he felt left out.

The feeling I have is as if in the moments when Ed should have random lines they turned into lines with more sense, and in the lines with more sense they turned into random lines. Anyway, enough talking about Ed's dub. Despite everything I've pointed out, I don't consider it a bad dub. As I said, it's just a matter of my personal preference. The voice actor just wanted to give the character a boost, a little bit of his special touch, and I respect that.

Kevin had a second voice actor in some episodes (Duda Espinoza), which bothered me because I usually don't like voice actor changes, especially if the other voice sounded much better to me (I mean, it was fucking Alexandre Moreno. It sucks to just take away a remarkable voice like his), but at least it was only in a few episodes, so it didn't bother me that much. The change in Nazz's voice actress didn't bother me because both voices suited her to me.

I really love all the Brazilian voices (some more than others), I think they all suit the characters, even the ones that aren't so similar to the original voices. But there's a voice that was one of the worst choices I've ever seen in dubbing: Eddy's brother's voice. Honestly, this was their only really BAD choice in choosing a voice actor. Bro's literally an adult and in the Brazilian dub he sounds like a kid/teenager, because he was in fact dubbed by one! @eenedump already talked about it on Twitter, and it's true. Nothing against the guy, Luciano Monteiro is a great voice actor and did and does amazing dubbing (like Finn from Adventure Time, Freddie from iCarly, Zack and Cody, Lewis from Meet the Robinsons, Baljeet from Phineas and Ferb, and many others), but he just wasn't a good choice for Bro. He was a literal kid/teen at the time! 14 years old! Even the characters that are actually kids are dubbed by adults, so why would they choose someone who's actually a kid and sounds like a kid (if he at least sounded like an adult, age wouldn't be an issue) to dub the only adult who appears in the show? I can't see any explanation for this decision.

Now, a thing that REALLY haunted me in the Brazilian dub, disturbed me even more than Bro's voice, was in the Valentine's special episode "Hanky Panky Hullabaloo". The strangest, most disconcerting and unexplainable thing happened when I was watching it and it made me very confused, uncomfortable and concerned for the rest of the episode: Marie and May's voice actresses simply swapped places. I honestly can't think of any reason for that happening. Like, I hate when voice actors change, but I understand that it can happen because for some reason the first one can't voice the character anymore or just can't in some episodes. But this!? This is completely nonsense. What happened? Did everyone, including themselves, forget which Kanker they dubbed? There's no logical explanation and I've never seen this happening before in any other dub. Seriously, imagine watching Ed, Edd n Eddy almost in its entirety, with two characters having the same voices from the beginning, and suddenly you're hearing May's voice coming out of Marie's mouth and Marie's voice coming out of May's mouth. There's no other way to describe this occurrence other than Double D's classic line in "3 Squares and an Ed" (season 3, episode 6): "That's disturbing". I felt like I was in an alternate reality.

And in "May I Have This Ed?" (season 6, episode 1), Marie's voice actress dubbed May in the scene where she says "How about you get your claws off my man, boyfriend-stealer!", but in the previous scene when May says "Hey!" she seems to have been dubbed by the right voice actress. Again, disturbing.

There are some other minor things in the Brazilian dub that kinda bother me:

Double D sounds a little less formal, especially in the first seasons. A problem that happened in the Brazilian dub is that many words that Double D says in English that would be excessively formal are actually common words in Portuguese (to get around this and maintain the character's characteristic of having a sophisticated vocabulary, I'd try as much as possible to replace the words that Double D originally used with more unknown and difficult synonyms in Portuguese). There are times when Ed or Eddy shouldn't understand what he said or should get it wrong, but to us it wouldn't make sense that they wouldn't understand because Double D didn't say anything difficult to understand. I already gave an example of this in a post about the classic "Eddy, I fear they're becoming amorous!" line from "Home Cooked Eds" (season 2, episode 11). "Amorous" (amoroso(s) / amorosa(s)) is a very common word in Portuguese with a very normal meaning, not related to anything sexual at all, just meaning someone who's affectionate or sweet. For this reason, I made a line change to another word that would be more formal and carry a sexual meaning (in the Brazilian dub he just uses the word "amorosas"). Another example is in "Who Let the Ed In?" (season 2, episode 10), when Double D says "I'm at quite a quandary" and Eddy says "Forget your laundry". In English there are both the words "quandary" and "dilemma", but in Portuguese we only have the word "dilema", which is also a common word and which I still haven't been able to think of how to adapt to rhyme with something that Eddy would get wrong (in the Brazilian dub there's no joke with him getting it wrong, Eddy just understands what Double D says). And another example is in "Shoo Ed" (season 2, episode 20), when Eddy uses the word "provoke" and Double D's impressed that he knows that word. Again, a completely common word in Portuguese since we don't have the word "teasing", we only have "provocar".

Something unfortunately inevitable in all dubbings and adaptations but which bothers me anyway is the jokes that only make sense in English. As I'm subtitling the episodes, I'm coming across a very large number of jokes that I have no idea how to adapt into Portuguese. A good example of this problem is the classic "I'd swear, but standards won't let me" joke from "Ed Overboard" (season 4, episode 7). The fun of this joke is centered on exploring the dubious and ambiguous meaning of the word "swear", which can mean either "promise" or "express anger in a very rude and inappropriate way", something that doesn't exist in Portuguese, we just have different words for each of that. Since there was no way to adapt it, it was dubbed as "Até faria, mas não tô afim não" ("I'd do it, but I don't feel like it").

Something similar to the previous problem is lines that should rhyme but the rhyme just can't happen. In "Nagged to Ed" (season 1, episode 2), Eddy says "Nice head, Ed" and he even highlights the fact that it rhymed, but in Portuguese the word "head" doesn't rhyme with Du or Ed, so the scene just seems like Eddy's being stupid and saying that something that doesn't rhyme does rhyme (which honestly isn't that out of character for him as he's shown to be quite stupid at times, but the loss of this rhyme particularly bothers me).

There are some errors every now and then, but the dub errors are not even close to being a big reason for my rating 8/10 because they're not that frequent. However, every time they happen it bothers me. An example is in "Mirror, Mirron, on the Ed" (season 2, episode 22) when Eddy says "Once upon an observation of this small rock, I have discovered it actually mutated from a big rock", and it was dubbed as "Após a observação desta pequena pedra, eu descobri que na verdade ela se transformou em uma grande pedra" ("After the observation of this small rock, I have discovered that it actually turned into a big rock"), like... what?

Anyway, that's what I had to say. I love both dubs, I love the Brazilian dub despite the things I mentioned, but in the end I think the original dub is better.

[cakesmelons]

With the powers I've been granted as a creator and owner of this very wonderful and logical rizz tl I have declared shattered joined the battle! I mean harem... so— Epic is such a rizzler he traveled through godam timelines to find a new bitch ..harem member?

Even funnier, I mean more fun, this Shattered killed his own Cross and Epic during the chaotic moments of his corruption ;3 ISN'T THAT FUN? 👁️w👁️

Shattered needs time processing the oddly reindeer like skeleton is similar to the oddly skeleton like reindeer.... I'm sure he'll be fine. Dream needs time to process there's another him— also u know the tension(problems?? I'm learning words gimme a sec) between Error and the Dreamtale twins? It's even worse between him and shattered... just how many times have they held shattered back from killing Error?

Shattered isn't like all that great around the harem.. and a little odd around the reindeer because despite that rizz he's still an oddly reindeer like skeleton similar to the oddly skeleton like reindeer. Aand a little protective over his not brother brother, Nightmare because of should be obvious reasons... But he's having a better time... at least he isnt eternally suffering anymore :( **proceeds to make him suffer more/....j ☺️

[ashes-writing-corner]

Hey guys! I've been sick lately so I'm back with a short part for Ghosts that We Knew. Reader gets sick and attempts to make tea. Ghost encourages reader to do it right lol

No warnings, tried to make this one a little funnier, more light hearted.

Taglist: @stargatenovus

Ghosts that We Knew 7- tea...you're doing it wrong...

You loved your little girl. You lived for her, quite literally. She was your world, your reason to keep going. And when the poor girl was sick, you made it your whole life to make sure she got better. 

Even at the cost of your own health. 

Kids were kids, and someone was always gonna wind up going to school sick, spreading it to everyone. But sickness travels, and just as Ellie was getting much better after a bad cold, you were knocked on your ass. Coughing, sore throat, the whole thing, you got it. Thankfully it wasn't as life threatening as it was after you had your transplant. You were paranoid about illness and the like for a year after the surgery. Thankfully you had a strong immune system and took precautions as much as you could. Nowadays you were a lot less paranoid, with the possibility of organ rejection (mostly) eliminated. 

Regardless, you felt like crap now. You had the whole package, and now couldn't safely work on orders, which royally sucked. Ghost was thankful those days were behind him, the one benefit to being dead. The one thing he didn't miss. 

He watched as you entered the kitchen, blanket wrapped around your shoulders and in your most comfortable pajamas. He observed only a moment as you struggled to open a nearby cabinet to grab a mug and he knew exactly what you were about to do. 

And you were about to do it wrong. 

Again. 

You grabbed out a box of fruity tea bags, clearing your throat a bit to try and ease the scratchy feeling in it. You grabbed out a peach bag and set it in the mug. Absent-minded, you filled the cup with water most of the way and, to Ghost's dismay, put it in the microwave. 

Again. 

No, no, no! He was NOT going to stand for this! He understood you were sick but there was no need to ruin tea like that. The microwave stopped suddenly and you looked around. 

"Ghost…I swear to God if that's you" you tried to reset the microwave but a cold blast grabbed your hand, "Dude! Seriously?! Of all things, you're gonna have a stick up your ectoplasmic ass about this?!". 

No response. Then you remembered that he had used a lot of energy to interact with you a short time ago. You sighed and rolled your eyes. 

"Hold on, let me go grab my phone…" you peeled off into the bedroom to go get it so you two could properly communicate. 

Ghost waited for you, keeping close to the accursed microwave. You were making your tea wrong and he needed to make you see the error of your ways. Sick or not, there was no excuse in his eyes. 

"Alright…what's got you in a tizzy now?". 

Tea. Wrong. 

"What?"

Make. 

"Seriously? There's no right or wrong way to make tea! Dude cmon my throat is killing me and the heat would help". 

Kettle. 

"Ghost…I'm not playing this game. Stop disabling my microwave and just let me do this-"

The lights began to flicker, electronics going a bit haywire. Frustrated, you pinched the bridge of your nose. 

"Alright! I'll do it in the damn kettle…fucking Brits I swear…"

Soap. 

Well that was random. It took you by surprise as you turned to your phone. 

"Soap? Dude, it's clean, I promise. Or are you saying I need soap? Eh…not gonna lie a shower might actually do me some good. I'll think about that". 

He still wondered about his old teammates. Did they still think of him? He hadn't seen Johnny in years, about three…maybe four at this point. He wondered how the sergeant had changed. Was he still the fun loving, carefree friend that he somewhat envied? Did he still have a heart for others? Ghost always thought that was a rare thing. He shook his head, no point in dwelling on the past or what could be. You and Ellie were his priority now. And it wasn't like anyone had made him one before everything went to hell…

"I am not about to put milk in this. It comes out clumpy if I do" your voice pulled him back like an alarm. 

Cream.

"I can't add anything but sugar to this. It'll get clumpy and gross. Don't want that" you argued, "if it was a different tea then yeah definitely". 

Kind?

"What kind am I making? Peach. Peach and raspberry are my favorites" you told him. 

Lavender. 

"Lavender tea? Are you kidding? That stuff tastes like soap…" you stuck your tongue out in disgust. 

Smell.

"Eh…I guess the smell is okay. I like the smell of actual Lavender rather than the artificial crap they put out". 

He couldn't argue that. In life he thought the smell of lavender was too strong. It was even worse now as a ghost, with his advanced smell and all. 

You had gotten out a new cup and tea bag and waited with the blanket still wrapped around yourself as the kettle finally went off. You rolled your eyes. 

"Another reason I hate doing that" you moved it to the other side of the stove, "hate loud high pitched noises". 

Nonetheless, you put some sugar in the cup. Ghost counted at least five, a bit much in his opinion, but he wasn't about to judge. He had made your life difficult enough already. 

"Did it your way. Are you happy now?" You asked with a hint of sarcasm. 

Yes. 

"Good, cause I'm never doing that again". 

We'll see…

This totally means he intends to "train" you on making your tea right. This was based on a conversation I had with my sister the other day and she thought it was hysterical. Anyway, being sick sucks and I hope yall are okay.

If you like my stuff please consider following, liking, commenting, and most importantly reblogging. Thanks friends and followers ^.^

-Ash

[sneak-a-cat]

fucking. miraculous au where chloe got sent to a damned private school. like that shit fucks you up - speaking from experience - and is where she should have fucking gone like girly is the mayors child why is she there. why. it makes no sense. not saying that children of people of import cannot be sent to public schools but judging by the Everything about Andre and Audrey she shouldn't have ended up in a public school.

like i'm sorry but i truly believe she and some of the other characters should have gone to private schools and then there would be that fucked up rivalry between schools that happens - [redacted] die please. your not better at hockey or rugby than us. your rancid (not really but its funny to get so heated) - and like the friendships people have across schools... fr they are so funny.

bonus points if they go to an all girls school paired with an all boys school. wdym i'm speaking from experience and projecting? of course i am.

but back to the original point. WHY IS SHE THERE. people explain it in fics like her dad was making a public statement being like "wow guys the public school system i fund and help organise is so good i sent my daughter to it" BUT NO ONE WITH HIS MONEY WOULD DO THAT BECAUSE A LOT OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS ARE UNDERFUNDED

like i get that thomas astruc was just wanting to put "bitchy rich girl with powerful parents" in there as a trope but like.. buddy please... think it through.... i know thats asking a lot when talking about this man but pls

miraculous would be ten times funnier if they were all at a private school and were forced to wear uniforms and got weird fucking assemblies about breaking the uniform "individuality is for after school girls!" - quote directly from my old headmistress

like genuinely with fashion as a core theme in miraculous it would be so much funnier if they had to wear uniforms, and on non uniform day - generally charity work, pay to not wear uniform money goes somewhere good, it works well - everyone would go buck wild except for Adrien who in my heart he would escape in a hoodie and joggers

Alix would have the exact same hair and probably more piercings, i'm sorry i don't make the rules every year has at least one person who looks like that and we love them for that (yes she would go to the private school IN THE WIKI IT SAYS SHE LIVES IN THE LOUVRE WHY DOES SHE LIVE THERE THATS A FUCKING MUSEUM)

wait. never mind. Juleka and Alix are dyed hair solidarity girlies for realsies, plus in my head Juleka has fire makeup and nails which are amazing for the goth aestehtic but don't really go with the uniform but She Sticks To It. she is committed

oh and Luka my beloved weirdo who doesn't seem to go to school, yess they would be there Jagged pays child support in droves for Luka which is also used to pay for Juleka to go (they aren't twins to me don't talk to me. Luka is older and they are half siblings ok. )

maybe i'll just fucking write this who knows. idk how the french school system works, never mind the private school one but i damn well could figure it out

plus from my experience, private schools have extensive grounds with just enough upkeep to be fancy but not enough to block the view of the fucking road like so its kind of funny like what were you going for

which could be a banger place for an akuma attack which isnt - yknow - the Eiffel tower. again.

objectively sending a bunch of them to poncy schools would do fuck all, however, its a really funny alternate universe to create... this minor change would fuck up the timeline because i'm in charge and bored

i don't know what this turned into. to be frank with you i think this idea is just actually so fucking funny so i'm going to stick with it who knows where that will take me

also, objectively, this is the funniest continuity error to focus on in miraculous

[specialmoogakii]

Narrator x reader making him jealous by using the bucket.

Warning:Grammatical errors

It all started for a joke after narrator had the wonderful idea to use a bucket for "comfort", you didn't know why he used a bucket out of all objects in his program. You didn't ask many questions since Stanley seem to enjoy it.

Stanley brought that bucket everywhere and did make some requests if you wanted to hold it for comfort. You didn't need it since the narrator already doing the job to make you feel at home.

Until,one day,you accepted the request and hold the bucket causing the narrator and stanley acting shocked for finally accepting to hold the bucket. Stanley ask how you feel and you say that's strangely comforting. Stanley was pleased after that.

After a little while,you had the wonderful idea to tease your narrator by flirting with the bucket. You wanted to see what happen and maybe making him a little bit jealous. Ha,just a silly thought,it wouldn't happen.

"Wha... are you seriously flirting with a bucket,darling?" Narrator ask full of confusion on why you're doing this only for you to answer by smirking and continue to flirt.

"I don't get it. What so wonderful about that bucket?" Narrator keep asking while Stanley was trying to keep his laugh,seem like he got the hint before Narrator does. Kind of oblivious.

You keep flirting with the bucket and sometimes fake smooch it. Narrator is getting annoyed by it and falling into your trap but..

"..im better then that bucket." Narrator growls in jealousy,leaving you speechless because you thought he was actually getting the joke hint and start to tease you. But no,you got a much funnier reaction.

You start laughing and tease the narrator for it. The narrator was scolding you but it didn't stop you from teasing him. Stanley take the bucket back to hide the smile and giggles behind the bucket.

You had to reassure the narrator with love and kisses. It was worth it.

[mae-i-scribble]

I've recently read through all of fabiniku (my life as an ordinary guy who reincarnated as a girl or something like that for the english title) and it's just been such a fun and genuine time that made me so much more endeared to the series than I thought I was going to be going into this. And for me it touches on a very important part of representation and the argument that queer people will inherently tell queer stories better (spoiler alert i think this mentality is simplistic and unrealistic). Because full disclosure, yeah the author of fabiniku is not someone i assume is the best ally on the planet, and i dont even know if she's queer or not. Her author notes have some pretty :/// stuff in them about trans identity and the idea that being trans is a fetish or childish choice. However, there could also be translational errors messing up what exactly she means, and I can't exactly translate myself, so there is some doubt in that regard. But regardless of the author's opinions, none of that changes the very genuine and heartfelt story she is telling with Tachibana in fabiniku.

(putting the rest under a readmore bc its getting longer than i thought)

There's a reason fabiniku got its reputation as one of the queerest isekai's to ever isekai and that reputation is well deserved bc holy shit yeah these bitches gay and trans as hell. Fabiniku does something with its queer narrative that I personally really appreciate: it sidelines the queer themes. Now this may seem contradictory, but for me, I don't always want queer stories about being queer, I want the queer elements to be a part of the narrative without it being focused on them. And fabiniku absolutely delivers on this. It isn't the story of tachibana finding out he's trans and jinguuji finding out he's gay but also kinda technically bi now- it's a batshit insane isekai romcom about 2 best friends realizing they have feelings for each other. Of course, those queer elements are still very much there, but they're entrenched in the characters, not in the author saying "see this aspect of identity, i want to use these characters as a vehicle to tell a story about it." (Not that there's anything wrong with that, its just a difference in writing goals and how one goes about writing themes/stories)

Fabiniku was never trying to be anything profound or meaningful in terms of queer representation, its mostly a gag manga with some large overarching story beats, but the author's earnestness in portraying the romance and personal growth gives the series a real heart that 1)makes it enjoyable unlike some other comedy based isekai and 2) stops it from being offensive representation. Tachibana is a guy who finds himself becoming a girl one day without and warning, and his slow journey into realizing what exactly he wants in regards to his gender identity is never used as the butt of the joke or mocked. (I'm using he/him for tachibana bc literally as of a couple chapters ago we just got him admitting he may not want to go back to being a guy, he's still on the first steps of his trans journey). In the same vein Jinguuji's love of Tachibana is never truly treated as "only now bc tachibana is a girl, no way did jinguuji love him before nope nope." (yes the initial premise suggests this interpretation, but as the manga grows on it is increasingly clear that both these 2 loved each other before this isekai shenanigans began).

There's a lot more words in my head, but Im gonna wrap it up here. Fabiniku is hardly "perfect" representation, but it is telling a meaningful story with a lot of love put into it regardless. Blaming its mistakes on the author not being trans or gay while ignoring its strengths is useless nitpicking. I saw a post saying it would be a much funnier manga if a trans person wrote it, which is such an illogical point to make that I just had to go ????? at my screen for a minute. There's a lot to talk about with this story, and that's what you took away from it?? And im not saying there aren't criticisms to be made, I still think Jinguuji's arc should have been about him realizing that even if he didn't like women, it didn't change the fact that he was attracted to Tachibana- would have made for a more in character arc for him but again, the author was never intending for anything more than a romantic comedy manga, so I won't hold it against her too much.

Anyways everyone go watch or read fabiniku you won't regret it its so fucking good

[crimson-chaffinch]

I'm writing a fanfic xD Not sure if i can translate the whole story well in English but this extract seems nice. I wish we could see Beta's interaction with Tilda in game.

4 months before returning to Earth

Beta flinches when a tiny envelope with the inscription “ART” appears in the corner of the menu. Corners of her lips creep up in a slight smile and she clicks on the invitation.

Simulation of APOLLO stays in the back background, and living room of Tilda’s mansion appears in the the periphery. Light curtains on huge windows are swaying in a weak breeze. Of course, the wind is only the creations of the house’s owner, just like everything else around, but at some brief moment Beta feels its touch on her skin. ​

“And here you are,” Beta catches softness in Tilda's tone and smiles openly now. She is full of excitement which fights the fear of being discovered. This is already the fourth invitation, and Beta is quickly getting used to their strange communication. Internally she is afraid of the day when everything will be ended, and she will have to return to her routine. Although why their meetings must be ended?

“Did you do as I said?” Tilda asks, inviting Beta to the balcony with the soft gesture. Today she is wearing a white dress with flowing skirt and long translucent sleeves, so Beta can see her graceful arms. Tilda always appears here in clothes from her past life which doesn’t look like Zeniths’ multifunctional costumes. ​

“Yes, created an extra projection,” Beta nods. Last meeting was in the library, and the balcony is a new location for her, so she can’t wait to see the world around as Tilda remembers it. 

The view isn't disappointing, even knowing about its unreality, Beta can’t stop enjoying it. The sunset is like a skilled artist, painted the ocean with strokes of golden paint. The water sparkles and shimmers, stretching somewhere far beyond the artificial horizon.

Unexpected cracking sound makes Beta raise her head and move away from the railing. A big white bird flies above her.

“Seagull,” Tilda laughs. She sat down in one of the chairs watching the sunset.

“Is it always a sunset here?” Beta looks around. She loves asking a lot of questions but rarely receives answers.

This time Tilda nods lazily.

“Why?”

Tilda squeezes armrest of the chair and stands up quickly. There are no emotions on her face but Beta understands that she said something wrong. Nobody was bothered to ​explain her the rules of the game, so she tries to understand them by trial and error.

“Let’s go,” Tilda’s voice is dry, with a slight tint of irritation. ​Beta has already heard it a couple of days ago, when I asked who Tilda lived with here before leaving for Sirius. “Today we will talk about Galatea”.

Beta reluctantly returns to the room, ready go to boring library, but Tilda sits on the sofa. Beta sits down opposite to her, trying not to look around. She notices the piano near one of windows, and new question comes out of her mouth before she can think about it better.

“Can you play?” her delight fades out fast under Tilda’s heavy glance.

Tilda is silent. Apparently the question is too personal​.

After her sharp gesture a picture appears in the air above the coffee table: in a sculptor’s workshop a man hugs naked, pale woman. Her soft forms tower over him like a white spot. Man’s face isn’t visible but Beta notices some kind of desperation in the way he hugs his creation.​

“Pygmalion and Galatea,” Tilda begins, slightly zooming the image, and Beta understands that characters of the painting are kissing. “Created at the end twentieth century by French artist Jean-Leon Gerome.” Tilda slightly tilts his head. “Do you know the myth about Galatea?”

“She was one of the fifty Nereids?” Beta’s training program includes history and mythology, especially Greek one. “Dr. Sobeck had a special attachment to Hellas,” one of her avatar-teachers told her one day. Beta likes myths too, they make her purely technical study a bit funnier.  

“There is one more story” Tilda stands up, walks around Beta and stops behind her, leaving the girl alone with the painting. “Pygmalion was a skilled sculptor who cut a beautiful sculpture of a woman out from ivory. She was so beautiful that he fell in love with her”, Tilda’s voice seems trembling to Beta. “Goddess Aphrodite had a compassion for him and revived the statue. Galatea became his wife soon. Many artists were inspired by this story…”

“Hmm,” Beta tries not to chuckle but it turns out badly. She can’t stop smiling even when Tilda sits down softly on the armrest of her chair.

“I said something funny?” Tilda lightly touches Beta’s shoulder. Her eyebrows are raised in surprise and anticipation of the answer. ​

“How could he fall in love with a sculpture? She’s not alive,” Beta feels like Tilda’s fingers put a few strands of her hair behind her ear. Her heart stops for a moment, missing several necessary beats.​ She looks up, meeting an attentive glance of van der Meer’s gray eyes and continues confusingly. “And even when she became alive. Just appearance is not enough for love...”

“You need a haircut”, Tilda decides randomly, without removing her hand. Beta’s hair reaches her shoulder blades and looks fluffy after a shower, so she even doesn't mind to change something in herself.

“Damm,” Tilda’s face expression changes quickly and she jumps up from her seat. “Get out of here! Now!”

[sojirosteacup]

I translate the excerpt that supposedly started the Moriharu rumor

Part 2 of my post about the origins of the Mori/Haruhi rumor.

After taking a look at the english excerpt and translating it from spanish and portuguese, we barely looked at the original japanese text. I translated one word and left it at that. But why not translate the whole thing and see what is really in there?

Let's do it after the cut! ↓

Disclaimer: I'm not a native speaker and only took 3 years of japanese classes. I took two days to translate this and reviewed all the grammar I could to do it right, but there might be mistakes here.

But the translations we have aren't much better so, shrugs

First of all, let's take a look at the japanese text again:

My first thought was "that's a long ass sentence at the beginning, fml!".

Because of the differences between japanese and english grammar (and japanese being able to cut some things from the sentences) the text can be worded differently depending on how you interpret it or structure it. No wonder this excerpt has so many different translations, it can be taken in different ways depending on the translator.

Here is my own attempt to translate it (with comments below):

"If he is left alone - a 'doesn't talk, serious face guy' as always - the story tends to end up progressing¹. A person that can nonchalantly torment Hatori² over and over. But my love for him is big³ (laughs) For Hatori, Mori and Haruhi may be⁴ a target⁵ dark horse⁶ couple, or not."

¹I feel that it could also be read as "the story tends end up plot twisting". Yes, the same kanji means both "plot twist" and "development, progression". But I think she meant that the story goes on without him doing anything. Yes, this sentence was hard to translate. Another possible way to translate it could be "if left alone, the 'doesn't talk, serious face guy' story tends to end up progressing/twisting." But then why would she worry about it? lol

²could also be read as "casually worries Hatori over and over". I can't figure out the exact verb because they both use the same kanji and very similar conjugations. But the meaning doesn't change much. And torment sounds funnier with the next sentence lol

³Unsure if it's her love or his love since it doesn't use a name. I'm going to guess it's about her, since she just talked about how much he worries/torments her.

⁴she uses とか, that is a quoting structure used for something uncertain, unconfirmed or a rumor.

⁵This kanji confused me because I'm used to see it in the context of turning words into adjectives. But it doesn't seem to be the case here since it's missing the な used with it. 的's meaning alone is "target" or "subject". I'm going to go with target since it's the only one that makes sense, but it might be some kind of slang I don't know. Maybe it's used to mean something like 'endgame'? DON'T TAKE THIS AS TRUTH, I'M GUESSING HERE. But if that's the case, then I can see how it could confuse people.

⁶in japanese, she uses a term that means an unlikely win in horse racing, I tried to use the closest thing in english. I go more in depth about the term on my last post.

One thing that surprised me is that every single translation we looked at on my last post skipped something from the excerpt. The english one cut the "story develops/plot twists" part entirely. Same for the spanish version. The brazilian portuguese one kept closer to the original text (using "plot twist" instead of "developing"), but the translation error at the end kinda ruined it.

So what conclusion can we take from this? It definitely does not confirm them as a couple. The "or not" at the end of the text makes it obvious that she was joking with this. It's something similar to the shippy illustrations of the Hosts with Haruhi at the end of the manga volumes, just another of Hatori's attempts to confuse the readers and keep all Haruhi couples as possibilities.

But looking at the text (and it's many different translations) we can see where people took some parts of the rumor from:

The "they were supposed to be canon!" could have come from people missing the "or not" at the end of the excerpt, along with the uncertain tone of the sentence being lost in translation. It could have also been the many translations calling them Hatori's favorite couple, or maybe even the "my love (for him) is big" part being translated as "his love is big".

The "she changed it" probably comes from the "plot twist/development" part being translated differently depending on the language.

The "Tamaki became the male lead because he was more popular" part is not here are at all, but, like I said on my last post, I have a theory that it got taken from a rumor from another fandom.

Does that mean this excerpt was the origin of the rumor? Who knows! It could have come from something else. But since this is mentioned in every discussion about it, I felt like it wouldn't hurt to translate the original.

(if anyone else speaks japanese and wants to add something to this translation, fell free to reblog or reply with your suggestion/correction. I could be wrong or maybe you can see something I missed, who knows.)

[archived-yiptsu]

wait

BOTH.

like slowly doing more of what he’s supposed to do

IT’S BOTH.

I have NO IDEA what this ask is about but judging from my intense research (looked at my notifs) I'm assuming this is abt the blueberror post and, because I'm so educated (reread the blueberror post), I'm making another assumption that this is abt Blueberror being a silly guy who cannot understand his own actions. Correct me if I'm wrong I'm down to ramble abt him even more

YES he starts off very confused about everything and aggressive to people over the smallest stuff but gradually he learns!!! gradually he gets better and realises what was going on before and because he's nice and feels bad he apologises to the people he hurt and tries to befriend them!!

maybe Dream helps him realise why his actions are wrong or—the funnier option—he watches Ink's actions and just goes "hey this guy's kind of weird maybe someone should point that out" and then realises that they share the same traits. hell maybe even Error helps him realise why his actions are wrong, literally any character could help him and it would still be somewhat realistic (except for Nightmare, but I think in that case Blueberror would realise pretty early on that Nightmare's just trying to make him worse which would make him do a double take on his actions.)

either way I think he'd feel pretty upset about it which could cause a lot more outbursts than before, but he'd probably get over it after a while as long as he knows that they forgive him or can at least tolerate his existence.

after a bit I think he'd calm down entirely but would feel emotions a lot more than others would. he'd still get set off pretty easily, but he'd be able to know why it happens and find coping mechanisms instead of lashing out at those around him.

he's a silly little guy no matter what ... You can't take the silliness from him

[protokirby]

Late night early morning messy alternate universe doodles. And by messy I mean what the heck are these lines sometimes

I usually don't draw on paper but it was easier to do that than to draw with a mouse on an uneven surface at the time. Sometimes I'm tired of fighting with the computer mouse ya know?

I was trying to sketch potential designs for a thing in a specific au here. I think it turned out super cool

It didn't end up being changed that much between different drawings so I think I got something here

The writing says "sleeves stretche with wing (not ripping somehow)

Yes I'm keeping my spelling error noted lol it's funny

Writing pointing to wings coming from under his cape: "sticks up from behind cape"

Writing pointing to his legs: "wings on backs of legs too"

Writing above the top most doodle showing legs: "wings on back of legs normally"

Lower doodle: "in flight" and "I don't know how to draw side view of this :("

Referring to the wings sticking up from the back: "from under cape. Not from arms"

Side note I kept miscalculating how long his shirt is so there's an extra unneeded line

Why did I write so many notes? Anyhoo

"Top horns go forward like tiger from monster rancher"

"Bone-like plates(?) on ears same as on horns and face and arms" or I'm 90% sure that says arms. That staff's on his arms so-

"Note: his teeth look normal most of the time but there are retractable points (like a night fury with extra steps)" lol a night fury with extra steps

This one was just my failure at trying to figure out bat wing physics

Here's a better one

"Breaking news! Local guy recently freed from curse can't get comfy because of lingering monster features. *annoyed*"

So yeah I had to say to myself 'just think of it like arm physics' and stuff like that. I don't remember what most fingers are called but the pinky finger and the one next to it are part of his wings so part of his wings move along with those two fingers

But oh yeah with the thought still fresh on the mind: 'just think of it like arm physics', I forgot arm physics in this one

"In flight (after a long time of not trying out his wings for fear of folks expecting him to use them if he could, something finally provokes him enough to take off.) So yeah it turns out the wings left by the curse actually still function"

Silly doodle

Au Hop: "Lately I've been into using random words as insults. It's funnier than using actual insults when done right."

Reaper(also an au Hop from a different au): "Woag"

Reaper has 2 Leons. The one with the caption "taking notes" above him is named Dandelost and isn't actually related to Reaper. Dandelost doesn't get along with his own Hop and well, Reaper is one of the few people who even can get along with Dandelost but ... Reaper, friendly little guy that he is, can easily get along with most people. Dandelost is planning on getting better at being a jerk to people here.

The other Leon standing next to Reaper (judging Dandelost for taking notes) is the one actually related to Reaper. He's a gargoyle who can turn into a human and he dresses all professional when he's a human.

The Leon next to the other au Hop doesn't quite approve of his own Hop attempting to be a bad influence on the small innocent chaotic floating Hop

Here's another silly doodle

Hop: "why is this daisy taking up my personal space!?"

Lacey: "tail....."

Drayton: "pfft" (worried about what Lacey would do to him if he laughed too hard so he's trying to keep it quiet)

Oh and theres another spelling error, but the writing pointing to Lacey says "has "fluffy withdrawel syndrome" since the aliens abducted the pokemon 26 years ago"

In the au the bat-dragon Drayton and the fluffy alien Hop and Leon are from, some kind of ripple effect(?) happened when the pokemon were abducted by some aliens that caused time (and aging) to pause. don't question it