#but I'll do everything I can to stay safe and healthy and keep other people healthy too ESP if it means I finally get to start converting

[lesenbyan]

messaged a place on a nearby campus, despite not being a student, about converting to judaism, cross your fingers for me

[smoooothoperator]

untouchable

10: Every Breath You Take

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: Harry, stalking, manipulation, drug use, sexual assault.

a/n: every story needs their villain! And this is actually the first one I ever wrote in my life. I think I want to make ia longer story than usual, with complex characters and a full plot worthy of a book. Who knows, maybe I'll even write a book based in this story? 👀 (Would you buy it?) Anyway... I want you to know that if some of you know a person that behaves the same way, stay alert. This is not healthy, contact people and make sure that person is away. Be safe.

Masterlist

Official Playlist

previous chapter | next chapter

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Psychopath (noun). A person with a psychopathic personality, which manifests as amoral and antisocial behavior, lack of ability to love or establish meaningful personal relationships, extreme egocentricity, failure to learn from experience, etc.

Narcissist (noun). A person who is intensely concerned with only his or her own self or interests and who seems to forget that others exist.

He never liked how he looked at her. How he smiled when she walked inside the room. How he always got up first whenever she asked for something.

Who does he think he is? How dare he do those things?

But later he understood it. He fell for her. That guy fell for her.

Her.

Violet Sinclair.

When he met her he thought she was pathetic. A pathetic thing that could only be his, to be used by him. How can someone as her smile that much? The way she tried to be friends with everyone irritated him.

But then she smiled at him.

That girl, who was clumsy and dumb, smiled at him.

And he promised himself that she won't smile at anyone else.

But then she introduced him to her friend Eloise.

Eloise was different to Violet. And he didn't like that. He didn't like that she was an independent woman, someone that already works on her family business, someone that can make money on her own. But he can use her for his own pleasure. He can have her whenever he wants to please himself.

So when he saw Lando Norris trying to reach for her, he did everything to keep him away from her, to keep Violet for himself and making sure she wouldn't try to be close to him.

“See? He loves the attention” he scoffed walking next to her through the paddock.

“I mean, he's famous…”

“But you don't see the way he smiles at everyone? He loves to hear how people compliment him. What an asshole” he laughed. “You should see how he acts during the parties”

“Gross” she groaned, making him smirk proudly.

But he can't always have what he wants.

He despised every man that touched her. And he made sure to push them away from her and make her look that no one will love her how she deserves.

Jared was the first one he met. Apparently, they met during summer. He was a guy two years older than her that studied in Manchester. Too far, too easy.

“Violet, you won't believe this” he frowned, walking towards her, holding his phone in her hand.

“What's that?” she frowned.

“I won't say I told you, but…” he sighed, showing her his phone.

A picture of Jared with another woman. Staged, of course. He knows that woman is his cousin, but since Violet never met his family, why would she know?

“W-what? No… he promised me!” she gasped.

“I'm sorry… come here” he sighed, opening his arms for her, letting her cry on his shoulder.

Then Michael came. He hated him the first moment he saw him leaning against that Mercedes-Benz, waiting for her at the door of the college. It was so disgusting, watching how he looked at Violet like she was a trophy, someone to sit in his expensive car and take her to boring places. But still, it was too easy for him.

“He broke up with me!” she frowned, walking inside the classroom and sitting next to him.

“What? What happened?”

“He said I'm not of his level” she scoffed, throwing her arms to the air “That his mother doesn't like that I'm not from the high class or shit like that”

“His loss” he scoffed.

“And he had the guts to say that by text! Not even a call! Look!” she frowned, showing him the text he made sure that stupid man wrote in front of him.

“What an asshole” he laughed, watching with a hidden pride that screen.

Owen was a little harder. But not everything is easy, if it was, life would be so boring.

He had to see how his Violet loved that man, how she had heart eyes whenever they were together. And that made his blood boil. He wanted that man out of her life, away and making sure that he never comes back to her. And never sounded so good for him.

It took him longer than he wanted, but he enjoyed every second of the final result.

It was her birthday party. All of them planned to surprise her at a club, renting the local only for the party. Or more like, Owen decided to make a party and include all her friends.

How disgusting. He hated that man, watching how he smiled at everyone and making sure everyone knew he was her boyfriend.

But until today.

When the party started and people were on the dancefloor, he started his plan. He only needed a drink for him and a few drops of the little bottle he had.

“Hey, mate” he smiled walking towards Owen, patting his back. “Today you did an amazing job. Here, cheers!”

“Thank you” he smiled, grabbing the shot glass, drinking it.

It was the beginning of the ending. And he was in the first row to watch it.

He only needed to give him three shots before it started to make an effect. The smile on his lips grew wider when he saw him walk towards Violet, taking her to an empty corner. The way he held her, kissed her and touched her. How she tried to escape from him. How he held her again, how he kissed her even if she tried to push him away.

It was just perfect. He never expected the drug to make someone act that way. The way he cried in panic, escaping from his touch.

She looked beautiful.

“Eh! Get away from her!” he screamed, running towards them and punching Owen.

The pain on his knuckles was nothing compared to the pleasure of hearing Violet cry and hold onto him when he saved her.

After that, it was easy to keep her close to him. She saw him as her saviour, as someone she completely trusts. And he loved that. He loved to see that for a while she didn't trust other men, that during the races she stayed with him. He loved to see how she started to fell in love with him slowly.

And the best part of it? That Eloise didn't mind. He thought it was good, she liked that both of them were close and she never questioned it.

How stupid.

But then she started to get close with Max and Lando again. He felt proud when he saw her be distant with them, but the moment he realized that Lando was trying again to get closer to her, he tried to find a way to eliminate him.

It was funny. Following him around the clubs, sending girls to him making sure they distract him while he took pictures of them. It was something that pleased him.

But Lando never tried to be her boyfriend. And it was something that drove him mad. But still, he had everything planned. All the pictures, all the videos, the audios. It was perfect. His masterpiece.

Yet, he never suspected anything. He never noticed the boxes that arrived at her apartment every two weeks. He never noticed the amount of books she was increasing. He never noticed the short texts between them.

Until that trip.

If Eloise didn't ask her to come with them, Violet would be safe in her apartment alone, reading those stupid books.

If Eloise didn't mention that stupid secret admirer, his week would be more calm.

Eloise. He has to make sure she's out of the picture. Always ruining everything, trying to set Violet up with someone. Trying to take her away from him

Who does she think she is? How dare she?

He made sure to keep Violet away from her. What a better way of showing Violet that her friend doesn't care about her than making Eloise ignore her while she moans underneath her boyfriend? And somehow, he had to let all the anger out.

What he never expected was that he had to fight two battles at the same time. And he hated not having control of it.

That sneaky Lando took advantage of the situation and got closer to her. He kept her away from him. Maybe he's washing her stupid brain and telling her lies.

But he was losing control. He saw how he was losing her, and it made him mad. It made him go mad.

She will regret it. She will regret believing in Lando. She will regret everything.

Because Violet Sinclair is his property. No one else’s.

She frowned looking at the packages and then at her phone.

If it's not from Lando… then who would have sent her the packages?

She left them on her kitchen table and searched for the sender, sighing with relief when she saw the names of her parents there.

“At least they sent something” she sighed, opening the boxes.

Inside them there were a lot of things. Her favorite chocolates, a few books, perfume and a little statue of Venus. She sighed looking at it, smiling. There was a note on one of the boxes and she grabbed it, smiling weakly.

‘I hope you had a good time in the snow. Happy birthday, love’

She frowned while reading it. She never told them she was going on a trip, nor to the snow.

taglist

@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

Hey folks! With all this KOSA and Tumblr chaos going on, I'm gonna admit I'm worried about what's gonna be the outcome of my blog and being on the internet anymore. And that hurts my heart a little bit to think about.

But, I am here to say thank yous. I love each and ever single one of you goobers who liked, commented, reblogged, followed, messaged, and left asks, tags, fanart, gifts, writing, and any type of friendship and support you've given me the past 2-3 years on this hectic site.

Thank you for the friendships and support to getting me into the selfshipping world, finding confidence to be myself and never to be ashamed to be my silly weird self. I never thought people I'd get to this point with some self inserts from when I was like- 12. I really didn't, and its all thanks to you guys.

If this bill passes, we still have hope, or have a chance to push back and rebel enough it's taken, please don't lose hope. Do everything and anything you can to let them show this bill will not effect us and with not take away our rights.

I love tumblr, I love you all. Your my online friends, my online family, I've found so much of myself being here and exploring Fandoms, I've met people who are just as crazy and silly over vampires, ninja turtles, cowboys, pirates, wizards, as much as I am. I met people just like who made inserts and OCs to kiss their silly fellas when I was told my whole life how strange that was.

I'll be around! Maybe one day fate will bring us all back, and maybe I'm writing this in vain and will look back at how cheesy and dramatic it is. But now, with how bleak the future of the internet seems, I want to say farewells. But goodbye isn't forever! Remember that. Keep yourselves safe, remember you're loved and how much I care about you. Stay healthy and strong, and please don't forget who you are.

Be Excellent to each other, and Party On, Dudes!🩷

[misteria247]

Also known as I've been haunted by this for days and I can't exactly write but damnit I can ramble-

It's subtle, the way 12 Mikey sticks close to 12 Raph, 12 Donnie and 12 Leo. Barely noticable to the normal look over, but to someone like 03 Donnie it was something that he noticed right away. At first the purple genius thought he was imagining things, after all it wouldn't be the first time that he'd done it. But upon closer observations he realized that he wasn't imagining it at all. And once he realized this it was suddenly impossible for him to not notice everything the alternate orange clad turtle did.

03 Donnie noticed how the younger turtle was always somewhere nearby his brothers. Not quite hovering but not quite completely detached either. He noticed how 12 Mikey would always be touching one of his older brothers, whether it was hanging off of 12 Raph or clinging to 12 Donnie's arm or tucked closely to 12 Leo's side. 12 Mikey was rarely ever seen without his brothers nearby, and it was always in subtle ways. Never drawing too much attention from the other turtles in 03 Donnie's home. And his brothers let him do these things, never once did 03 Donnie see 12 Donnie, 12 Leo or 12 Raph actually push their little brother away from them. But instead they let him stay close, returning the same gestures that he gave to them. It was mildly concerning to 03 Donnie, considering that it wasn't exactly healthy to be constantly attached to someone. Then again 03 Donnie couldn't exactly say anything himself, because he too tended to stick close to 03 Raph, 03 Mikey and 03 Leo for his own reasons. And for awhile 03 Donnie watched 12 Mikey and his mannerisms, never really pointing them out to him nor to his brothers.

But it changed one night.

The 03 lair was deathly silent save for 03 Donnie who was in his lab doing the usual research. 12 Donnie, Rise Donnie, Bayverse Donnie, 07 Donnie and 87 Donnie, his lab partners had retired for the night surprisingly, leaving him alone to his own devices. The older turtle was typing away at his keyboard when the sudden sound of a barely shifting foot filled his ears. 03 Donnie paused, turning his gaze towards the direction of the sound only to catch the glimpse of 12 Mikey leaving the lair quietly. 03 Donnie felt his heart sink a bit as concern clouded over. He didn't even think about it before he was quietly leaving the lab, and with all the training he'd acquired he followed 12 Mikey. The sewers were silent save for rats and running water, as 03 Donnie followed the younger turtle through them before coming up to the manhole cover that 12 Mikey slipped up into.

The purple turtle didn't hesitate to follow after him, the sudden sounds of the cars and people filling the air. 03 Donnie watched as 12 Mikey made his way up the side of the building near the manhole and the older turtle followed behind. Once the genius reached the top of the building he finally saw 12 Mikey had sat down on the ledge, his back turned towards him as he stared out into the city that was so familiar yet unfamiliar. 03 Donnie couldn't help but interrupt him:

"You know, it's not safe to come up to the surface alone. Especially without telling someone where you're going."

12 Mikey jumped a bit at 03 Donnie's voice but didn't turn towards him. Instead still gazing ahead he responded:

"Sorry about that dude, didn't really think about it. I'll keep that in mind for next time."

The two go quiet after that, not knowing what to say. 03 Donnie watched the younger turtle's back, having caught the fake cheer in 12 Mikey's voice. Yet he had no idea what he should say. For a good while they remained there, listening to the night life of the city that never sleeps. But then 12 Mikey's voice eventually broke the silence, sounding distant and small:

"Have you ever realized just how easy it is to die? Like one minute you can be good and then the next you're just.....gone."

03 Donnie didn't even get a chance to respond before 12 Mikey was continuing:

"I've seen death up close so many times. Have brushed against it more times than I can count, but I learned that the scariest thing about death isn't whether I died or not. The scariest part about death is whether my brothers died or not."

The older turtle sucked in a sharp breath as a sudden gut sinking feeling hit him at what 12 Mikey said. The orange clad turtle at that moment finally turned to look at 03 Donnie, the once cheerful baby blues now dark and saddened. In the moment 12 Mikey looked older than he was, and then with a broken voice he spoke once more:

"Do you know what it's like, watching your brothers die? Do you know how terrifying it is to see them be taken away from you over and over again?"

And 03 Donnie he feels a sense of dread and understanding hit him at this question as he realized why 12 Mikey stuck so close to 12 Leo, 12 Donnie and 12 Raph. It was for the same reasons that he himself stuck with 03 Raph, 03 Leo and 03 Mikey. 03 Donnie swallowed hard and answered:

"I do, I know it better than anyone how terrifying it is to watch your brothers die right in front of you. How awful it is to be completely powerless to do anything, to be afraid of turning away from them for even a moment. Because that's all it takes for them to disappear from your side."

And 12 Mikey just stares at 03 Donnie, a look of somber knowing in his eyes as he too realizes that this older turtle is just like him. That just like him, 03 Donnie knew that fear, that constant dread and anxiety. Because he too experienced things that made him uneasy about being away from his brothers. Just as 12 Mikey was with his own. The duo don't explain why they know this feeling that they always carry, the wounds and traumas too deep for them to pull up. But they take a silent comfort in one another, sitting on top of that building till the sunrise came.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||𝐹𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓇𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝐸𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃||

((HI dears, I also wanted to say some final things as this year ends before 2024. This year has been one crazy year honestly even from being out there in the real world to being on here. So, I have a few words to say. If you wanna read, go right ahead.))

((This year has been....ehhhh, heard to say. Crazy, emotional, tiring, hard working, almost everything to say the least. Or maybe that's how I feel due to the hard long hours of work and stress due to family things and all that. But I hope next year is a bit more better for me and others too. Yeah, 2023 has had a lot of headaches and things though people keep going. Even from working, other people that are always there for your some you have to keep out of your life for your own health. But yeah, 2023...what a year.))

((Though, I will say this. I'm really hoping and praying 2024 is better than this year. I will say I'm happy to have meet so many amazing sweet people here on tumblr. You all are my family that's been with me every day in spirit and heart. Some of you I follow but I am still so nervous to speak to you. I'm sorry for that. T-T I Hope I can still try to get better on that....))

((But I do wish to thank a few of you for that. So here is a small list:

@demon-blood-youths Demon mun, I honestly am so so sooooo happy I have met you here on tumblr. You always make my day so much better even I had a bad day. Seeing that your happy always makes me happy. Even with our crazy muses too. We had so many crazy adventures writing threads involving them but I'm excited for more in the new year. Same with ships too. Lol But I will say thank you so much for being my friend. I really am happy to have you as part of my tumblr family and my cool friend. <3

@within-the-resort I know this years been a long one for you but I am always happy to have you as my friend here on tumblr. True, I was nervous at first to speak to you since I didn't want to be a bother but you are always so sweet and I always enjoy talking to you and knowing more about you. Even with our muses knowing one another, it's always so fun. So from me to you, thank you for being part of my life. Your amazing.

@the-archetype-of-civilization I'm always happy to have you as my closest friend. Your amazing and so sweet even if you are busy. But it's fine, we all are at times when real life gets in the way. I'm more happy to know your doing alright and staying safe out there during this time. I really hope your staying healthy, smiling, and being the cool dude that you are. I still miss hearing from you but it's still cool. Thanks for being a friend dear.

@ask-the-monster-nest My dear, their is so much I wanna say but it might not fit all in here so I'll make it simple. I wanna say thank you. Thank you so much for being my friend, thank you for always having my back, thank you for your kindness and always looking out for me. I"m so so sorry that I end up not sending you things (I blame my job T-T) but I'm always try my best to be here for you even when your sad or down. You mean a lot to me and your part of my tumblr family. Seeing you happy makes me happy, but seeing you down worries me but life is never always fair sadly. I always will cherish the memories we made with each other and even more in the new year. I will say thank you from the bottom of my heart for being there for me. You are amazing and I love you for that.

@kitxkatrp My dear, I wanna say thank you as well because your so sweet and kind and loving and just amazing. I hope this new year goes better for you. I Hope you know I always will have a place in my heart for you even when your so sweet. I love the chats and talk we do from time to time but it makes me happy seeing your doing alright even through this year. I hope that we talk more and do more threads together too. I really care and I'm happy that you are my friend. Love you lots. :3

@watchfxrthefangs I want to say I'm so sorry for not sending you things in the past. I'm still sorta nervous to talk to you. That or I think Tumblr has been eating my asks. ^^; but even so, I still think your amazing and so sweet. Everyone is so happy to see you here on tumblr. I hope we can do some threads in 2024 when I'm not such a scared little thing but I still wish to talk more with you. Hope your 2024 is the best.

@dark-hybrid-ninja I also wanna thank you for being there for me too. You always are so sweet and have patience with me even when I'm tired from work. I am going to try to do better with answering things but it's even so. Your still a wonderful friend to me and I always will cherish the moments you been here. Even with our muses being happy and living peacefully. So thank you for that my dear. Thank you so much.

@the-seduction-anon I still love our nice moments with one another even with our mises. Thank you for the memories and I can't wait to make more of them with you and your precious OC. Thank you for sending me things but I am sorry for not responding to some from message. I blame work for working me till I'm tired but I'm hoping to work on that. Anyway, thank you dear for being here with me and thank you for being my friend.

@sageofjustice You are sweet and amazing for being a friend to me. Even if we don't talk as much, your still important to me. Even with your precious OC Angel. I will want to thank you for giving me suggestions for trying out new characters and I still love them. So thank you dear and I hope you're 2024 is amazing for you.

@the-bloody-wolfy you know you were going to be added here. I wanna say thanks for being here for me too. You are always so sweet and caring. Even with your adorable OC's. I cherish all the threads and things we did. Even small talks were nice. I hope in 2024 I can hear more from you and hope your doing okay. Thank you for being part of my tumblr family. <3

@charmed-redemption I know we don't talk as much but I don't stop thinking about you and hoping your well dear. I will say this: I still cherished our threads together and talks when we have time or so. I just wish anons didn't ruin that but I still cherish them. I still love your OC Ryu he's still precious. I don't know but I do miss rping with you but maybe..just maybe one day..I might want to try again with you but....only time will tell. Till then I still will think about you.

@historias-multorum I wanna say thank you for being part of my tumblr family. I always enjoy seeing you on my dashboard and it's nice to read the threads you do. So many stories even through 2023. But it makes me happy to see your alright even when tumblr has become well...bleh. I know in 2024 you'll still keep making more and more in the future. I will say thank you for being here for me and sending things. I hope to do better in sending things back even when you do with memes that helps so thank you for that. I hope to do better in that in the new year. So thank you for the wonderful memories and I can't wait for more.

@realmofsoulsandshells You are also part of this too my friend. It was because of you I was told of Tumblr so you deserve the praise too. You were always my friend in the past and still is, even if we chat a lot on discord or on here. I hope to do better in sending things to you or checking on you. I know you been through things in 2023 but I hope 2024 is better for you. :3 I still love your OC's and characters you bring to life with your imagination but I hope to see more of that too. Thank you for being there for me. You are amazing. :3

@wolfmaster1992 I get the feeling 2023 has been a heck of a year for you. But I still hope you are doing well and 2024 is better for you. I still enjoy speaking and talking with you but I hope things are better for you. Always know I'm here for you my friend no matter what. Your still sweet and I still love your OCs that you bring to life. Thank you for everything and thanks for being here with me.

@verratensduo Thanks for being here for me too. You really know how to bring a smile to my face. With our small talks and other funny moments, I hope we can do more in the future in 2024 and forever. You mean a lot to me too and I'm happy to have met you. I hope for more silly fun and amazing moments together with you. Stay cool my dear!

@kaito-akimoto Oh right I almost forgot one! I will say I hope you are doing well this year dear and I'm hoping 2024 is good for you. I know you been busy during this year but life always makes everyone busy. I hope your doing okay. I still cherish our threads together and I'm hoping for more in 2024 or when you come back on Tumblr. I will say thank you for being another of my close friends and part of my tumblr family. I Hope 2024 is a great year for you. <3

((Now for some final words: To new followers, I'm still a bit nervous with sending or asking you to try some threads but I'm working on breaking out of that. I'm sorry for not sending anything yet but I will. I hope you all will enjoy your stay in the Silver rose estate mansion. I can be a bit silly and weird but I guess that's how I am. *laughs* Anyway, this is a long post so I'm going to end it here. I wanna say before 2023 ends, I wanted to get this out to some but all of my followers and close friends that's been with me on this crazy journey.))

((So from me, my muses and everyone else.....Thank you for following me and thank you for being part of my tumblr family. May 2024 be the better year. Love you all.))

With love,

𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝓊𝓃/𝒫𝑒𝒶𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝑜𝓂

𝕺𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖑𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝕰𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓

[madaboutmunson]

Sweet Home Chicago Series - Stupid Cupid (Part 1)

Summary for overview of the whole fic can be found here

For @eddiemonth Week 1 prompts used Parents, Observant, Bad Reputation - Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, Lost, Role Model, Crush, Warm Warnings: None that I could think of, but let me know if you feel any should be added, and I'll do that straight away :) Romance/Fluff Word Count : 13K Ao3 Link

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

1959 Little Italy, Chicago

Eddie arrives at night, and unlike Hawkins, this place is still bustling. He can only imagine what it might be like tomorrow. Alive, vibrant and diverse. Everything back home wasn't. Wayne has driven him all the way here. Even though he said several times he had the money and was fine taking the bus alone, his uncle didn't want to hear it. Besides, it would be an excellent opportunity to catch up with Eddie’s Mom.

Eddie knew this was a half-truth. Wayne was a worrier, even though it cost him time and money for gas and food at rest stops. It at least meant that he knew Eddie was safe. It did give him a chance to catch up with his Mom, but this wouldn’t be a chit-chat. Wayne didn’t mean to be judgemental, but Eddie knew he wanted to check the place out, make sure his Mom was okay, and that Eddie would be OK here.

Eddie was eighteen now, a man. He’d often told Wayne he didn’t need him protecting him and his mother henning around him. But he knew that was a lie, too. Eddie was too different to not run into trouble, and they both knew that, even if Eddie had set his mind to starting over and being someone brand new in a place where he had a clean slate. He didn't have to be the loud, weird, bad kid here. He could be the quiet, unassuming budding author, and people would like him for that, not be put off by his previous self. 

Eddie was evolving. He could use this place to settle in and to mault. Rid himself of his disfunctions become healthy and normal. That's how you get ahead in life. An easy life.

He was so nervous. It had been some time since he’d seen his mom in person, though they generally stayed in touch with occasional phone calls, letters or parcels. In the last ten years since she left, maybe five Christmases and three birthdays. But she always called him.

Since he’d hit his teens, Wayne had little to discuss with his mom that Eddie couldn't communicate himself, other than the bad stuff that Eddie always conveniently left out.

Eddie had been a good kid. He just had a less-than-ideal start in life. His father was in and out of life more often than the changes of school term. There was no nice way of saying it. His dad was a criminal. Specifically a conman. His specialities lay in being charming, blending in and rustling up disguises out of basically nothing. Maybe if he had chosen the right path when he hit that fork in the road of life, he could have been a phenomenal actor. He easily imitated voices, sounds, and mannerisms, effortlessly embodying characters like donning or doffing his hat. Which made the rare bedtime stories he told masterpiece performances.

From what Eddie can recall of his parents' relationship, it was very loving, but they seemed to be stuck in the cycle of teenage love and angst over and over. One day, they would be dancing around the kitchen, gazing at one another across the table, hardly touching their food at all, or curled up on the sofa together like two love-sick kids. But the next could be a complete warzone, arguments over the same things, either his dad’s risky next job or his mom’s failure to keep a steady one. Maybe none of that would have been a problem for the two of them, but when the third part of that equation was a young, hyperactive, attention-starved, anxiety-riddled son, it just fueled the fire.

His Mom and Dad never called him a mistake, and they did give him the love they could spare, but they were very young, and Eddie came along before they’d even caught a glimpse of the vague edge of their dreams. Neither of them had great relationships with their parents. His Dad’s were distant. Disowned him for his sinful way of life, being the god-fearing people they were. His Mom doesn't even remember her mom, she only remembers her Dad, who was essentially her best friend her whole life until the Munsons muscled into the scene, and he wanted better for her. When they ran away to get married against everyone’s advice, it broke her Dad’s heart, and they never spoke in person again. Eddie guesses it made sense they would cling to one another when they must have felt like flotsam just bobbing about in the world, lost and alone.

Eddie’s dad, criminally charming as he was, never strayed from his mom. Never looked at another woman twice. His dad said that was because he had never met a girl like his mom before in his life. 

When the Munson’s arrived in Indiana, it was tough. Tougher for outsiders. That was just the way Hawkins always was. Tough as old boots. But thankfully, the Munsons lucked out because the nearest house to theirs was owned by a kind, neighbourly mechanic Widower with an only daughter.

Eddie loved hearing how his Dad’s voice would change when he remembered his mom from their youth. He, his mom and Wayne became fast friends, roaming around Hawkins together. A happy outsider trio, going on adventures, star and cloud gazing together, cannonballing into the lake. He’d recall his mom, Esmerelda, or Em as he liked to call her, was not only fun, but she could shoot better than any he knew. She would have made a great sniper. Plus, she could strip and reassemble a car engine in record time. Only sported a dress for church on Sundays. The rest of her time, she wore pants, a shirt and braces like the rest. Though usually covered with a streak of engine oil, dirt or flour. The cherry on top was just how beautiful she was. Big, piercing green eyes and long, luscious dark waves of hair that bounced around her face as she outran them both through the fields playing tag.

The three of them were thick as thieves, but as they moved into their teens, Al started to peel off into the more real dangerous side of things, which got him kicked out, and that left his Mom and Wayne, still reading stories, and letting their imaginations run riot in the skies above them at the lakeside, or inventing future dream lives for themselves on the tire swing at the Munson’s.

But the day finally came when Al got brought home by the sheriff himself. They banned him from town, so he was plunged back into Wayne and his Mom’s life with a thump. His parents wanted nothing to do with him, so his Mom’s father let him stay in a barn on his land. Though the three spent most of their days together as kids, Al seeing Esmerelda in her everyday home life enabled him to see more sides of her. Not just showing off, being goofy or tough, but kind, careful, generous, and protective. That's when he realised it wasn’t just the friendship he felt for her and decided he should do something about it. So one night, he sent Wayne back to the house for some sodas, which Wayne argued with him over, didn’t want to do at all, nearly ruined the moment, and as soon as he was out of sight. Al made his move. Shuffled closer on a hay bale and kissed her on the cheek, and as he liked to say, the rest is history.

Then he’d turn to Eddie and say, “One day, Eddie, you’re gonna meet a girl, and Cupid is gonna line you up in his sights and pow, it’ll be over for you.” Eddie would be so scared, his dad would chuckle and pull him into his lap, “I’m sorry, son, it’s not that scary, but you’ve got the genes of your mom and me. You’re a hopeless romantic on both sides, but that just means you’ll find your one easily,” he’d tap him on the chest, “Your heart is so full of love it’s gonna shine so bright for them, they’ll see it from miles away.”

Eddie didn’t realise at the time how dysfunctional his family was. When they weren’t arguing, they had the most fun together, but some of the things he thought were games weren’t that at all. They would play the weeks-long hide-and-seek game with his dad, but Eddie mustn’t tell anyone else about it. Otherwise, the game would be over. The scavenger hunts that either they would lay out for his Dad or he and his mom would follow, the prizes always being wads of cash. Or the big box of dress up he and his mom sometimes had to rifle through and take outfits to his dad so he could play too. That was the last game he remembered them playing together.

His dad had told Eddie and his mom that he’d had a vision about work, how something might go wrong. So they were to meet him at a gas station to play pretend. Though Eddie was excited, he couldn’t figure out why his mom was so upset.

His mom had made new outfits, especially for the occasion: a priest, a nun and a choirboy. They parked around the back of the building, already in their costumes, and waited for hours. Until there was a screech of tires, the sounds of yelling and running. His mom had grabbed the brown paper bag and Eddie and ran from the car to the outdoor toilet, and they hid behind the wall. In seconds, his dad appeared with a massive smile on his face, “Look at you, my angels.” he laughed, grabbed the bag, and kissed his mom before disappearing into the toilet.

More cars were pulling up, but there was more yelling and slamming. He even heard someone shouting bad things about his dad until his mom covered his ears with her hands and pulled silly faces at him until he smiled.

Then came the sirens and gunshots. Eddie remembers being so scared until his dad reappeared, “Hey buddy, it’s ok. We’re gonna pretend we’re going to church now. So just put your hands together like when you say your prayers, close your eyes, and we’ll be on our way before you know it.” He beamed a huge toothy grin at him. Eddie could see dark grease in his hair. It almost made it look jet-black. Eddie did as he was told, the other noises continued, but he kept walking until someone lifted him into his seat.

That was the last time he saw his dad. Heard from him a few times and got a couple of things through the post, birthday and Christmas gifts, usually a few months late, but as Wayne would remind him, it’s the thought that counted.

There is something strange in the space between them in the car as they pull up outside the address she’d given them. All the buildings crowded around one another, and looming over them felt like a stark contrast to the feeling within the vehicle.

Wayne kills the engine, “Ed, if you ain’t sure bout this, it’s no trouble at all to drive ya home. I’m going back anyway.” He speaks the words up at the large building.

Eddie does actually think about it, the fear of the unknown creeping up his spine. Then he looks at Wayne. He looks tired, “Yeah,” he replies, trying to hide the crack in his voice, “I’m sure. A fresh start somewhere new, I can be someone else.” He looks up into the night sky as if asking the stars to make it so.

He feels his uncle’s hand on his shoulder, “Eddie,” Wayne’s voice is quiet and full of a soft sadness, “You ain’t gotta be no one else. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with ya. You were just a kid whose life was flipped around. You did the best ya could, son.” Wayne's soulful eyes shine in the darkness.

“I coulda been less trouble,” Eddie says with a sweet half-smile to try and lessen the weight of this conversation, “I coulda been good, made things easier for myself. Coulda not had the sheriff and neighbours knocking at your door.”

“Our door,” Wayne adds and shakes his head, with a huff of acceptance, “Kid, I just want ya to know, I’d take a hundred knocks on our door at any hour, as long as you were there with them. Safe. At home,” Wayne adds, he turns away from Eddie and looks out the window, “The only good thing I ever heard about this city, Ed, was that your mama done well for herself. Everything else was bad news.”

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says cautiously, but the word uncle makes Wayne’s head snap towards him. He’d been calling him Wayne mostly, but when he was little, sick or upset, he used uncle as a small plea for his comfort and support. “I came here to start over. I’m not interested in getting into trouble, joining greaser gangs, or getting into drink or drugs. I just want a chance to see more. Experience more without a brand on my forehead telling everyone I'm different. In Hawkins, I stick out, here there are so many differences no one is gonna notice lil’ ol’ me,” he smiles fondly at his uncle, “I'm gonna write a book and illustrate it, and when I make my fortune. I'm gonna come get you outta Hawkins, and me, you, mama, and pa are gonna live somewhere so grand.” His dreams widen his smile at Wayne, who offers a slight shrug of a smile back.

“Well, I ain’t never been one to stand in the way of anyone's dreams, so I reckon we better get up there before your mama falls fast asleep,” Wayne gets out of the car and gets Eddie’s cases.

Eddie shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening the door and stepping out into Chicago. 

He inhales deeply again, letting the city saturate his lungs, with all its good and bad. The buildings around here were so vast and gigantic that it made him feel small, but for once, that felt good. He grins up at the lights still flooding the night, some from apartments and restaurants, some from cars driving by, and the faint sound of jazz on the wind whips around the place. 

He walks around and takes the cases from Wayne, “I got this old timer,” which puts a genuine smile on Wayne’s face as they make their way to the large brick building.

He could clearly see three floors from the sidewalk, though, on approach, it looked like there might be an attic right at the top and a basement down below. On one side of the building was a set of hard stone steps that bypassed the apartment at street level and went up to the main middle floor he could see.

Eddie halts at the two big main doors like this threshold will tear him asunder, let him leave the old bad boy Eddie behind, and only leave behind the good. He sets down one case, but his hand shakes as he reaches for the handle. Soon, he feels Wayne’s hand on his shoulder again. He turns to look at him, “You got nothing to lose. Home isn’t going anywhere. You can always come back,” Wayne smiles warmly at him, and Eddie takes hold of the handle and opens the door. As he steps into the cold, tiled hallway, he feels the warmth of Wayne’s hand leave him. As he turns, he finds his uncle neatening himself up, Straightening his tie, smoothing down his jacket, and rearranging the flowers in his hand, which were starting to look a little sorry for themselves.

Eddie looks at the numbers on the doors, and it seems they have another floor to get to his mom’s place. Eddie notices on the group of mailboxes as they pass that she hasn’t opted to change her surname, and something about that makes him feel good. Despite their distance and his dad's behaviour, it wasn’t so bad she needed to cut them off entirely.

As they reach the door of her apartment, Eddie’s anxiety takes full hold, he feels his breathing shudder, and the muscles in his back burn with a new tension. He thumbs at the ring on his finger that was a going-away gift from Wayne. He’d found it in a hide on a hunt the day after Eddie told him he wanted to leave and said he thought it was a sign. It was a simple silver signet ring that Eddie had to tape up to fit his slender fingers. He kept it on his index finger so his thumb could easily reach it. The repetitive movement, who gave it to him and the gift sentiment all helped bring him back down to earth a little. He’d been using it the whole way here.

“You know what could be fun? If she sees me first, then I step aside to reveal you? Lord knows I won’t get a word in once she’s got holda ya,” Wayne beams at him, and Eddie nods, in the full knowledge Wayne was gonna take this first step for him.

When Wayne had offered to take care of Eddie, it had been because he’d been left at his grandparents for a spell whilst his mom found her footing in the city. Eddie’s grandparents were the first people he met who branded him bad simply because he was energetic and was born of two delinquents, as they called them. Wayne had told his mom, who moved Eddie to her Dad’s, and everything was fine until he started getting sick. So Wayne worked on vehicles with his Mom’s father, cared for him and Eddie and never complained. Eddie couldn’t be that good, not as good as Christian as Wayne, but he tried. He was kind to people and animals, said his prayers, and helped around the house, but school and that kind of life were too restrictive for his imagination. Wayne plied him with fantasy books and art supplies, and they worked for a while until the differences started showing.

He was supposed to like cowboys, not knights. He was supposed to play soldiers, not sorcerors. 

His Mom came back for his grandpa’s funeral but didn’t stay. She took money and trinkets and left the house, land, and everything else for him and Wayne. That’s how it had been for the last ten years. Just him and Wayne in his Mom’s old house.

The combination of grief and being in opposition with his peers had sparked a rebellion within Eddie. He was supposed to like pop music and country, not blues and rock’n’roll. He was supposed to wear his hair short, but he preferred it longer. He should have had a pick-up. He had a motorcycle. He was a one-man gang for a while, glaring at anyone who gave him a second look, spooking locals with sinister tales until he was othered because he wanted to be. Then, a few others flocked to him, and he had his own mini band of brothers. But they got out of control. It took a few sheriff visits and a near fire to reign Eddie back in and ultimately sparked this decision to move.

Wayne knocks gently on the door, the bouquet of flowers held in front of him more like a shield than a gift. The other hand behind his back reaches for Eddie’s arm. 

“Yeah?” A deep, booming voice rings out from behind the door.

“Uh, apologies, we’re looking for Ms, um, Mrs Munson. Must have the wrong place,” Eddie hears the slight tremble in Wayne’s voice and feels his hand grip his arm tighter.

The metallic sound of latches being hurriedly undone fills the hallway, the increase in speed matching Eddie’s heartbeat, until the door is wrenched open and Eddie sucks in a breath in anticipation, but with Wayne in front of him, Eddie doesn't see much at first.

“Wayne!” An excited voice calls out before she leaps into a bear hug squeeze, and Eddie laughs when he hears the faint crunch of the flowers.

“He came?” He hears his mom say in disbelief as Wayne is shoved to the side, and there she is. Older but more beautiful than he remembers.

She’s a small woman, a smirk in the place of a smile, but it radiates joy all the same. On top of her head, her jet black curls are piled on top of one another in an untamed bun, a scarf is neatly folded into a headband of sorts and tied around her head, at the top in a small bow, from under which a set of shorter curls spill out and frame her emerald eyes, rounded nose and delicate jawline.

Her hands reach forward and grab Eddie’s face, and she plants kisses on his cheeks, too many for him to count, leaving them both giggling as she moves her rough hands away and steps back again to get a good look at him, “Oh sweetheart, look at you! You look so grown up with your little suit on,” Her hand raises to her mouth, and Eddie thinks he can see the start of tears brimming, but she quickly averts her eyes to Wayne and waves them inside, “Come in. Come in. I’ll, um, show you to your room so you can drop your bags in,” As she shuts the door behind them, her arm braces around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him in for a side hug, “I can’t believe you’re finally here sweetie, oh my goodness you are gonna love it. Sorry everywhere is a little empty, I um, I only just moved into this apartment from upstairs. Here we are,” she says excitedly, then stops, gives him another squeeze, and gestures into a plain looking room.

The wooden floor is adorned with a mishmash of rugs, there is a single metal framed bed, a desk which he can see has been stocked with stationary, a full-length mirror attached to a tall wardrobe, and next to a tall chest of drawers, on top of which sits a record player.

“I didn't wanna do too much. This is your room, so you can decorate it as you like, and I can get rid of anything you don't want or like, don't worry about that. Just wanted you to have what I figured might be essentials.” She releases him and opens up the wardrobe, “I got you a set of towels, and um,” she moves over to the chest of drawers, “Some new socks and underwear. I hope I got the size right. I did try to remember the numbers your uncle gave me,” she smiles, and Eddie begins to see how nervous she is.

“Wow, it's so great. Thank you, Mama, I mean, Mom,” Eddie corrects himself, trying to sound a little more grown up. He puts his cases down by his bed and almost removes his hat before looking nervously at Wayne and then his mom.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” She asks, a little worried, looking between Eddie and Wayne.

“Who else is here?” Eddie asks quietly.

His mom looks at him quizzically, “No one, sweetie. It's just us.”

“But the voice at the door,” he says, pointing back to the hallway.

“Ohhhh,” his Mom says in realisation, cups her hands to her mouth and booms out, “You mean this voice?”

Eddie's shoulders relax, and he nods and laughs, shaking his head.

“Is that what you were worried about, honey?” She asks again, but Eddie shakes his head, unable to find the words.

“Emmie,” Wayne starts and looks at Eddie with a reassuring smile, “The boy doesn't much like the barbers.”

Her worry fades, and she smiles mischievously, gesturing at her hair, “Me neither.”

Eddie carefully removes his bakerboy-style hat that hid his hair and takes the clips out so that his dark waves of hair fall around his face. It’s not long like his mom’s, but it's long enough to reach the top of his shoulders.

His mom lets out a tiny squeal of delight, “Oh my goodness, you look like a little angel. Sorry, I mean, your hair looks very handsome on you, Eddie.”

“I like it this way, but I know it's not what others like. So I keep it tucked away.” Eddie advises.

“Well, no need to do that here, sweetheart,” she beams at him and takes down her hair. This is our home, and you can be yourself here, ok? You’re whole true self,” her eyes dart to Wayne nervously and back to Eddie, “I mean, your Chicago home, you know. Not like your home-home.” She laughs awkwardly, “You know what? I’ll rustle us up a quick supper and leave you boys to it.”

Eddie busies himself unpacking, and Wayne doesn’t speak until his mom’s footsteps fade away. He strolls around the room and looks out of the window, out onto the city.

“Nice view,” he says.

Eddie snorts out a laugh, “Say what you really wanna say, Wayne.”

Wayne turns around and starts picking up the clothes Eddie is laying on the bed and transferring them to the wardrobe hangers or drawers for him, “Just promise me if you wanna come home, you’ll call, ok? Don’t matter the time. I’ll come get ya as soon as I can. It ain’t no failing just ‘cus a place is too much for ya. It’s a big change, Ed, and you ain’t like ya mama. She’s like a damn rubber ball the way she bounces back from every knockdown.”

“I promise,” Eddie smiles at Wayne’s protectiveness, “Maybe you can’t see it, but maybe in a bigger place, I won’t stick out so much? I’ll stand a better chance slipping under the radar here than I did in Hawkins.” 

Wayne hums in that grumbly fashion he does when he knows he has to agree with Eddie but doesn’t want to.

“Let me just try, and I promise, I won’t hesitate to call if things start to go wrong,” Eddie reassures him.

Wayne tilts his head into view to receive the last of his knitted jumpers, “Even if that’s tomorrow?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and laughs, “Even if that’s tomorrow.” 

Once all the clothes are away, they sit together around the kitchen table and demolish the plate of sandwiches between them. Eye-opening stories for each of them, some about baby Eddie, some about his mom and Wayne’s adventures, some tales from Wayne about older Eddie’s misadventures, and even some about his Mom starting out in the city. They laugh and share fond smiles until his Mom lets out a yawn, “I’m so sorry, I’ve been up since five this morning,”

“Sorry, Darlin’, I didn't realise the time. I should get goin’,” Wayne says as his eyes nervously dart to Eddie before focusing back on cleaning away the dishes.

“Now, Wayne, you haven't gotta do that, it’s fine!” “I won’t hear non’ a that. You made the food. I can sort the dishes before I head off,” Wayne says, collecting the plates.

Eddie watches his Mom play nervously with the hem of her shirt, “You know, Wayne, it’s kinda late. You could stay if you want to? I’ve got a camp bed or the sofa. You can take my room,”

“Absolutely not! It's Eddie’s first day in the city tomorrow, and he don’t need a shadow. Needs to make his own way,” Wayne says, clearing his throat afterwards.

Eddie feels that familiar nervous swirling in his stomach as he realises he hadn't spent more than the occasional sleepover or overnight camping trip away from Wayne in the last ten years. 

This was really it.

Suddenly, he felt lost, like he was drifting away from his mooring into the unchartered waters. Nausea was a very real and present sensation. Eddie quickly gets out of his seat to help Wayne with the dishes. He stands shoulder to shoulder with him, sending him an occasional smile while humming one of Wayne’s favourite songs.

Before they know it, the dishes are done, and all that is left is goodbye.

“Don’t wave me off. Stay up here, get a cocoa in ya, and off to bed. That's an order for both of ya,” Wayne tries to joke, but Eddie can hear a slight tremble in his voice, “So um, if anything, call me, ok, doesn’t matter what it is, like I said-”

Eddie pulls him in tight for a tight squeeze as he bites back his tears against Wayne’s shoulder, “Gonna miss you,” Is all Eddie can manage.

“I’m gonna miss you like crazy, son.” He squeezes him back harder, “And speaks into his hair, “And if anything happens to you out here, you have my solemn vow, I’ll raze Hawkins to the ground, cus it’s that stupid fuckin’ town that took you away. I’ll give them hell until the end of my days.” 

“He’s gonna be ok, Wayne. I promise,” Eddie hears his mom attempt to reassure him.

His uncle squeezes him tightly one more time, pats him on the shoulders, and moves back to look at him, tears in both their eyes. Wayne swallows and wipes his eyes before turning to his mom, “Emmie, it was good to see ya. Uh. See ya later, Ed,” he says, shakes his hand, nods his goodbye to him, and leaves.

Eddie rushes to the window of his room. In the dark, he finally lets his tears fall as he watches his weeping uncle drive away.

“Gotcha, that cocoa, you’re uncle suggested, pretty plain, I’m afraid. Tomorrow, I’ll pick up some marshmallows.” he hears her set the mugs down, “May I?” She asks, and Eddie only weakly nods as he finds himself crying in his mother's arms for the first time in eleven years.

Eddie didn’t sleep well that night; he was not used to the noise, and his worries wouldn’t let him rest even if it were as quiet as back home.

He lays awake in bed, waiting to hear his Mom get up. He checks his watch, gives her five minutes, and then joins her.

“Morning Sweetheart, want some coffee?” He hears her call out as he walks to the bathroom.

“Yeah, that would be great, thank you,” he rolls his eyes a little at himself at how formal he’s being, but he’s just trying to be polite.

He makes his way to the kitchen and finds not just a coffee but a plate of scrambled eggs, too.

“You still like eggs, right?” She asks with an awkward smile.

Eddie nods happily, “Yeah. I do. Thank you.” He tucks his pajamaed self in by shuffling his chair forward with a squeak against the floor, and he instinctively winces, “Sorry.” He glances slightly up at her from the corner of his eye. She’s probably regretting this already.

She moves from the counter and sits beside him, “Hey, you didn't do anything wrong. You’re fine, honestly.” He raises his eyes to her piercing green ones, and she gives him that sweet smile of hers, “Listen, sweetheart, I get we don’t know one another too well. That’s on me. I love you, always have, and always will. Even though maybe I didn’t show it in all the ways a mother should,” she cautiously reaches her hand over his, and he pushes his hand into hers, “But I want to get to know you, as you are. Wayne filled me in on a lot, and I just want to repeat, this is our, um, Chicago home, right? And behind this door, you are one hundred per cent okay to be one hundred per cent yourself, even if you can’t do it out there. I know I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Eddie says, and he realises his voice sounds small, unlike the eighteen-year-old man he’s supposed to be.

“No way. Are you kidding me?” she laughs, “I’ve built myself from nothing here. I can do the jobs I wanna do. Manual work that doesn’t involve putting on a full face of makeup or putting up with sleazy guys. Sorry, too much. Uh. What I’m trying to say is if I acted my true, daydreaming, singing, ditzy self out there, even though I do every job I take on extremely well, no one would take me seriously. I wouldn’t be a person to call for people that live around here. I wouldn’t have been trusted to take on maintenance for this building and get this bigger apartment,” she squeezes his arm and softens her voice, “but when I step through that door. I drop all those masks. I’d go crazy if I didn’t,” she smiles at him, “and I don’t need a crazy man in my home. So just be yourself, sweetheart. Wayne has filled me in on some things you’re dealing with, but I won’t make you talk about them unless you want to. I know you want a fresh start. Just like I did when I got here, I want this home to be your springboard to your dreams, Eddie. Everyone deserves to try.”

Something about that sets Eddie more at ease, “Got it, M-mom,” he corrects, and she raises an eyebrow at him, “Mama.” He says with a happy smile, and she nods.

“Better?” She asks.

“Yeah,” he says as he moves his hand on top of hers and squeezes it, kissing her on the cheek, “Tons better,” he says, picking up his cutlery to eat. Against his better judgement, he eats exactly as he would at home, pretty much inhaling the food on the plate, as his Mom laughs and gets up to pour another coffee for herself.

“So I got a few jobs to do today. I know you said you didn’t want me chaperoning and wanted to discover the place for yourself, but I also promised Wayne I’d keep you safe, and obviously, I want that, too. So, I thought maybe you could do some shopping for me, stick to the area. I’ve even put the names of the stores down for you. When you’re done, if you want to roam around, don’t stray too far from Taylor Street, ok. That’s the kind of hub of this area, and it’s the community I know,”

“Yeah, I read about that. Is it just all Italians ‘round here then? Because of the name,” Eddie asks, finishing his last mouthful and picking up his coffee.

“No, not really. There are people from all over. Well, at one point in their family tree, but most of the people your age around here are born and bred in Chicago. It’s fascinating, really. You’re gonna have tons more things to inspire you here,” She smiles and pushes him over a piece of note paper with some money, “Feel free to grab yourself some lunch out of that too. Keep the change for yourself. Don’t wanna deprive my little wordsmith of anything,” She smiles at him in a way he’s seen before somewhere in his distant memories and something that reminds him of Wayne. She’s proud of me, he thinks to himself, and that surges him into action. 

He quickly cleans the dishes and gets ready for the day. His Mom kisses him goodbye, leaving him at his desk for a while, pondering out his window. Watching people come and go, he decides to wait an hour or so for it to quieten down. He spends time sketching out some people on the street and the buildings. His mom was right. This place had so much going on it was impossible not to be inspired, and an urge to get amongst it all sweeps over Eddie. He pins up his hair, hiding it under his hat, grabs his satchel, dumping in his art and writing supplies. Rushes into the kitchen to pick up his keys, money and jacket. 

He gives the door a shove to make sure he’s shut it properly, and confident in that, he tries to step away but finds himself yanked back because he’s closed his jacket in there.  Eddie rolls his eyes at his clumsiness and unlocks the door again, releasing his jacket and closing and rechecking it. He takes a breath, starts over, and makes his way down the stairs to the foyer, tips his hat and smiles at his new neighbours as he passes.

It’s not until he steps outside that anyone stops him. 

“Ey! You new around here, ain’t ya?” a deep voice calls out after him. Eddie’s heart is pounding. This is the first person he’s going to officially meet here as the new him. He puts a friendly smile on his face and turns to greet them.

It’s a guy who looks about his age with blond hair, most of which is slicked back in a pompadour style save for a solitary ringlet that fell down his forehead. A cigarette limply hangs from his lips as he mirrors Eddie's smile and uses his shoulder to push himself from the wall he is leaning against.

“Morning,” Eddie chirps back, “Yeah, uh, just got here last night.”

“Oh really?” He tilts his head and looks Eddie over, “Huh.” He steps forward and grabs Eddie’s satchel.

Eddie feels immediately flustered by the intrusion and how quickly this guy got into his space. He tries to laugh it off, “Hey, easy there,” he says, tugging his bag back and taking a few steps down the staircase from the man.

“Easy there,” he mimics and laughs, “You one of those squares from the university?”

Eddie tries to smile again, even though he can feel his old self just beneath the surface, ready to knock out this guy’s teeth. It must have been some sort of dumb prank, “No, I just wanted to try the city out.”

“Oh, you’re a hick?” The guy asks, narrowing his eyes. His grin grows to something sly as if he knows he’s pushing Eddie’s buttons. He jumps down to the step Eddie is on with a thud, takes a long draw on his cigarette, and blows the smoke in Eddie’s face. Eddie waves it away with his hand, making him throw back his head and laugh.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, repressing the urge to retaliate, turns his glare away and starts down the stairs again.

“Hey! I’m not done talking to you!” He shouts after Eddie.

“Oh, I think we’re done here, buddy,” Eddie waves back with a forced laugh.

”Was that your old man last night? Crying in his car like a little bitch?” He shouts louder after Eddie.

That does it. Eddie wipes his hand down his lower face to contain the bubbling rage within him. No one talks about Wayne like that. Not this fucker, not anyone. 

What he wouldn’t give to be able to launch himself back up these stairs and send that dick crashing down them with his fist. But he’s not gonna let this asshole ruin his new start.

He turns back and looks up at him. “Ah, there he is,” the guy says with a weird sort of relief and a satisfied grin.

“You know, friend, maybe you shouldn’t be peering in the car windows or old men at night. You’ll get yourself a reputation,” Eddie shouts back at him and watches the guy’s face drop as a passing group of kids giggle at him.

Eddie smirks up at him and sends him a wink before continuing his day, leaving him standing dumbly on the staircase. 

This place was incredible. Eddie gets most of what his mom has asked for on the list from the locations on the small map she drew him. The grocery shop was the place nearest home and looked like the heaviest order, so he’d save that for last.

He circles back and drops in the light bulbs and various cleaning stuffs, and as it’s nice out, instead of staying cooped up inside, he decides to sit on the stairs and sketch some of the scenes around him as he munches on the sandwich from the deli.

He spots a group of girls over by a bench. Two are sitting down. One a light brown Italian-style haircut, like Sophia Loren, her big blue eyes bore into the pages of the book she's reading. Beside her is another girl trying to get something out of her light, mousy brown hair. Though their purposes seem different, they seem to be conversing, and the third, a girl with red hair, has decided to pretend the kerb is a tightrope and keeps her balance walking along it.

Eddie smiles to himself and gets to drawing. He should be trying to think of a main character for his story and draw that, but the inspiration hasn’t hit him yet. This place has too much he wants to capture. Maybe he should see if his mom has a camera or something.

Lost in the piece's details, he overlooks the shadow looming over him, and he’s too late to grab his sketch pad as it is snatched away from his lap. 

“Hey!” Eddie shouts and tries to grab it back, but the problem quickly becomes evident. It's the guy from earlier, only he has two other guys with him this time.

“Geez, what even is this shit,” he sneers at Eddie's drawing and shows it to his friends, who laugh along with him.

Eddie is so over this bullshit already, “Ok, you don’t like it. Fine. Just give it back, ok? And I’ll get away from your stairs, or whatever it is that's making you so upset,” he sighs and extends his hand towards him.

The blonde glares right into his eyes. He licks his teeth and spits on the ground before looking back at Eddie. A sinister smile spreads over his face again as he holds the pad aloft and turns his attention to the girls, “Hey! Ladies! Did you know you were all being perved on by some creep?” he yells over to them.

Eddie springs into panic, waving his hands in front of him. “Oh my god, no. It's not like that at all. I swear,” he frantically pleads with them as they frown at him and walk away, leaving the guys cackling amongst themselves. Great. Day one, and he’s already a fucking creep. What the fuck was this guy’s problem, anyway.

The guy plucks the cigarette out of the freckled boy's mouth and stubs it out on Eddie’s sketch pad, “Oops, better put that out, hadn’t I?” he drops the pad to the steps, stomps on it, grinds his boot into the pages and kicks it over to Eddie.

Eddie’s blood is boiling with rage, but he also feels like he could erupt into tears simultaneously. This was absolutely fucking ridiculous. Why couldn’t he just have this chance? Maybe he’d been so bad all the gods and the universe decided he doesn't get a do-over, and he has to pay for all the trouble he caused.

He looks at the trio and wonders if this is how Hawkins saw him and his gang. A cloud of terror just drifting to cause trouble and leave. Though Eddie never bullied anyone, he did annoy most businesses in town with his antics.

He picks up the pad and dusts it off, putting it in his bag, and he’s about to walk away, but he just can’t help himself. He turns back, eyes this dickhead with absolute disgust, “What is your problem with me anyway? I just got here. I’m not looking for trouble or trying to muscle in on anything you’ve got going on,”

They laugh, and the freckled one smirks, “How the fuck could you muscle in on anythin’? Look atcha. Nothing but an itty bitty weakling,” he jeers.

The one with shorter, cropped blond hair and narrow, icy blue eyes mimics him, “What's your problem with me anyway?” 

The main guy has a satisfied smirk, “I’ll tell you what the problem is,” he says, grabbing Eddie by the shirt and pulling him in close, but Eddie doesn't cower and does not retaliate, just coldly stares right back at him. 

The guy looks Eddie’s face up and down. Like a closer inspection, now he's only inches away from it, “My problem is, I don’t like creeps on my block,” then he leans in to whisper in Eddie’s ear, “And also…I know what you are…Freak!”

Eddie’s stomach churns at the thought of what this guy could have already deciphered about him so quickly. Could he just be talking about the drawings, that he wasn't from here, or he wasn’t dressed right?

He jolts backwards out of his grip as the guy smugly tilts his chin in the air, the victor.

Not wanting to add to today's problems, Eddie simply gathers his things and decides to get the groceries.

The group blocks his path down the stairs, saying, “I’ve got things to do. So if you kindly let me pass, I can be on my way,”

“Don't be too long, now. We’ll be here waiting for when you get back,” the main stocky guy teases.

Eddie hurriedly bustles his way past them, briskly walking away, and doesn't look back. Not even once, as his pulse thunders in his ears. The city seems to swell and contract as the anxiety starts to weave its way into him, and he might have walked right on by the grocery store if not for the uneven sidewalk.

He manages to get his hands in front of him, preventing his face from meeting the pavement and scrambles to his feet.

“What? Not even a postcard?” A thick Chicago accent rings out. Eddie starts to feel the defensiveness rise in him. He’s going to give this joker a piece of his mind. It's only his first day here, and already, it's going to hell. It's a stupid joke, anyway, which makes no sense at all because he didn't trip. He fell. Couldn’t this moron even see that? He dusts off his new clothes and notices a small tear in the knee. And that might be the final straw. Eddie screws up his face in rage. Fists clenched at his sides, one finger extended, ready to point right at this guy.

“No! Not even-” Eddie begins angrily as he turns to the voice. But all language and oxygen leave him, and all he can do is take one gulp of an inhale like a human goldfish.

Standing in front of Eddie right now is something he can barely comprehend. A miracle has occurred, and it doesn't seem like the rest of the world has noticed because it's carrying on like this isn’t even happening. He can vaguely hear the cars and the shouts of others, but they are all starting to dwindle. It was like someone was turning the volume down on planet Earth, and all he could hear was his own heartbeat and breathing.

Then, almost like a vignette is placed over his vision, blurring and darkening the edges, he can only focus on one thing.

The man of Eddie’s dreams.

Physically, at least.

He is right there.

Like the great animators in the sky plucked him out of his mind and drew him into existence.

Had he not put his hand out in time? Was he, in reality, currently knocked out by the fall, and that's why he can see this guy now?

He’s about the same height as Eddie. His hair is neatly cropped, not shoved away and hidden under a hat like his own. It’s side-parted, with a perfect swoop of brown, neatly combed and styled hair. Save for a few strands that hang over his forehead, rebelling against the pomade. His light brown eyes are shaped with a slight slope downwards, giving them a natural, hooded, adorable sadness, just like Elvis himself. But these are larger, which made them infinitely easier to get lost in. But there isn’t an ounce of sadness in the rest of that face as a cocky open-mouthed smile spreads across it. Tucked in the corner of his lips is a toothpick that rolls, as his tongue is idly toying with from inside his mouth as he looks Eddie up and down. 

Then there are those rose-blushed lips of his. They looked so soft, in direct opposition with the perfectly chiselled jaw they rested above. And all of this with a backdrop of olive skin littered with beauty marks. As if this guy needed any more indicators of how beautiful he was. Jesus.

Eddie dares to give him a rapid look up and down, and it is also awful news because not only did they give him the face of an angel, but they had to provide him with a body that would launch a million classical sculptors across all time into action. His shoulders are broad and sit atop two very pleasantly muscular arms. The white cotton t-shirt embraces them, one tighter than the other as it's rolled a little higher to hold his pack of smokes. The fabric stretches over his chest to reveal the mounds and dips of an anatomical landscape that Eddie is sure he would happily sit and admire for longer than any national landmark this fair country had to offer. Then the killing blow by this everyday garment is struck by how it falls and clings to his stomach, revealing he’s even got a slightly soft tummy. Eddie is starting to feel light-headed. This cannot be real.

Then Eddie notices something else, he’s wearing an apron, and in his arms is a crate of apples. He fucking works here. Oh god. Oh, god, no! Eddie starts to feel like he's overheating, and he’s eyelids flutter unintentionally.

“You ok dere, buddy?” The man’s smile and amusement take an eighty per cent plummet as they look over Eddie with concern.

He’s overwhelmed by everything happening right now, the whole day of mistakes leading up to it, questioning if it was even the right choice to come to the city in the first place. If all of these things were glaring warning signs, pointing him to go back home to Hawkins, stop chasing stupid dreams, and get a job with his Uncle Wayne at the factory. And this…this man at his local store of all places spelt trouble for him. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t good at hiding his thoughts or feelings. 

That was it decided. He would turn around now, go pack, and go home. This was a stupid idea. Eddie feels a tightness across his shoulders start to spread, his palms heat up, and he realises he’s been staring into space for the last few seconds. 

He tries to run, but his legs suddenly feel like lead, and though he’s stopped, the world spins around a few more times. Instead of the street being in his eye line, the horizon starts to fall, and all he can see is the sky before he feels his back hit something, but it's not hard like the ground. Soon, the horizon returns, as does the street and the face of an angel, moving him to sit on the ground outside the store, next to a pyramid of oranges.

“I need ya to sit right here, ok buddy. I’m gonna get ya some water, alright?” the angel’s mouth moves, and Eddie watches it seriously to make sure he can hear every one of his precious words.

He pats him on the shoulders, steps toward the store door, and pauses before looking back and tilting his head, “What's ya name?”

He is still a little dizzy, but he knows the answer to that question, “Eddie.” he replies quickly. 

The man smiles hugely and repeats his name like he’s testing it out. He places his toothpick behind his ear, “I’m Stefano, yous can call me Steve. Most do,” he gives him a little two-finger wave and disappears inside the store.

Eddie nods a dopey smile of thanks and then tries to take in his surroundings but nearly snaps his neck, looking back just as the guy goes through the door. Holy heck. Turns out it wasn’t just the front of this guy that was stunning. Eddie blows out a breath and stares at the ground. Yeah, this was bad, very bad. He needed to get his things and go home. Maybe getting knocked out by three guys might be slightly less painful than what this situation could be.

Eddie wobbles to his feet and walks to his bag and drawing equipment strewn across the sidewalk.

“EY! I thought I told you to sit right ‘dere?” Steve orders with a loud authority, and there is a clatter of something wooden.

“I’m fine, really,” Eddie says quickly, avoiding looking at him.

“You ain’t fine, buddy. You near hit da deck twice!” Steve says, grabbing his elbow and pulling him back towards the store. Eddie’s eyes turn to him again, and he feels all resistance leave him entirely and is seated on an upturned wooden container. Eddie notices that Steve has made a makeshift table and two chairs entirely out of crates. 

He can’t resist looking back over at him as he bends over to pick up Eddie’s things from the ground, and an internal battle rages as Eddie has to force himself to look elsewhere. This guy had been kind, so far anyway, so it wasn’t right to gawk at him, and also, Eddie shouldn’t be ogling guys. That was a one-way ticket to getting your head kicked in town.

Eddie’s stomach drops as he sees Steve stand and observe the sketch pad as he walks back over to him, “Oh…er… it's not what you think. I swear,” Eddie quickly defends.

“What? That you ain’t an artist?” Steve looks up at him, confused.

“No, well, kinda. I men. Fuck. I mean, “ As Steve’s eyes meet his own with a smirk, he gets lost in his eyes again, “Shit, I don't know what I mean.” He says finally with what he is sure is the dopiest, enamoured smile on his face.

Steve sits on the crate opposite him and hands him back his things apart from the pad he’s still observing. Eddie follows his eyes as they trail over the paper and watches his beautiful long lashes bat as he blinks. He vows to draw them all night until he has a perfect version and then hide it in an old tome in the national library so they’ll never be forgotten by time.

“OK, first, your soda. Hope dats alright. I thought yous might need the sugar,” he turns and whacks the cap off the bottle against the store window ledge. The muscles in his arm visibly flex as he does so and offers it over to Eddie, who accepts it gratefully and quickly diverts his eyes to the bottle itself.

For a second, Eddie's fingers brush against Steve’s, making the skin tingle like there is static between them, and he finds himself avoiding his eyes again as he drinks.

Eddie has not been shy since he can remember. He’s an all-singing, all-dancing, one-man vaudeville extravaganza, and he was trying to be a quieter, more reflective version of himself, but he wasn’t trying to be shy. But this guy made him feel goofy. Like someone had injected him with pure intoxication. Eddie knows he should stop biting the inside of his lip and stop staring, but he feels like it’s out of his control. The universe had put this heavenly body in Levis before him, and what was he supposed to do? Reject the gift? Force his way out of its orbit? No, but he didn’t want to repay the guy's kindness with his weird staring, so he kept trying to focus on other things. Anything that might save him from the flawless man realising he was appreciating him in a more than friendly way.

Eddie figures he must be doing an okay job. The guy hasn’t exhibited any of the usual aggressive tells Eddie had learned in Hawkins. When you're eager for a kiss or to dodge a fist, you learn to be observant of that shit quickly.

Steve tilts his head into his eye line, and once he has his attention, he moves it back to upright and smiles and asks, “Now I got a coupla questions, alright witcha?” Eddie nods in agreement as his eyes obediently follow him, as does the same smile he can’t seem to wipe from his face.

“You don’t sound like yous from here. You lost?” He asks.

Eddie shakes his head, “Nah, not lost. Not at all,” he means that he feels found when Steve looks at him, “But I did only get here last night,” Eddie offers up freely, and part of his brain is too slow to protest the fact he shouldn’t be telling a stranger more than they ask for.

Steve’s smile widens, “Dat makes sense,” Eddie watches his fingers trail over the paper where the cigarette has burned the pages, and a fresh feeling of embarrassment floods him. He could have taken the three of them. This guy sure wasn’t going to be impressed when he found out he’d effectively run away.

“It does?” Eddie asks, suddenly eager to have Steve look at him again.

“Yeah. I ain’t seen you before. Woulda remembered,” Steve sends him a charming boyish smile as the toothpick in his mouth moves from one side of his mouth to the other, “So, uh-“ he starts but is quickly interrupted.

“STEFANO!! ‘Owa, long is it gonna take for yous to finish the apples, eh? We’ll have a whole orchard ina here beforea you’re done. Amonini!” A woman’s voice rings out loud and clear, bursting the dreamy bubble Eddie was sitting in.

He looks over for Steve’s reaction. His eyes are wide, and a faint blush hits his cheeks and jaw, “‘Scuse me, Eddie,” he pockets Eddie’s pad in his apron and returns to the crate of apples Eddie had seen him carrying. He sets it out on the sloped display and is about to sit back down when he’s stopped in his tracks again.

“Stefano!! Why you no answer me?” The woman’s voice calls out again, annoyed and getting closer. Eddie watches Steve close his eyes slowly and slams down the second crate.

“IM DOIN’ IT, MA!” He yells back at the top of his lungs, goes back inside and re-emerges with another few crates piled up on top of one another.

“Urgh dissa boy, I swear. STEFANO!” Eddie hears the woman very clearly now, even though she isn’t shouting, and he looks up to see an open window she must be upstairs.

“MA! I'M DOING IT ALREADY!” Steve yells back, his beautiful brow frowns petulantly as he roughly shoves the crates into the display in an adorable little tantrum.

“Why you take-a so long? Huh?”

“Ma! I just fucking stepped foot out here! Gimme a fuckin’ chance! I’m only one man! Jesus!” 

“STEFANO EMILIO HARRINGTON, Don-na tell me you takin’ Jesus’ name in vain,” her voice travels around the place until Eddie hears the sound of footsteps and the ring of the bell as the door is yanked open. A woman’s face emerges. Initially, she looks furious, “Listen to how my son talks to me. You heara dat? What kinda terrible mother have I been to deserve that? Oh, the worst!” It feels like she says it to Eddie, but her words could have been for anyone in earshot.

Eddie's eyes turn to Steve, who, though now quite red in the face, probably from carrying all those crates around, is having some kind of absolutely silent conversation with his mother. It was the complete opposite of the yelling match they were just having. They gesture their hands in pointed, stern ways at first. Fingers pinched together, their eyes and faces express some kind of disagreement that soon dissolves to calm, and his mother’s eyes turn to Eddie for a second before she turns back to Steve and drags her thumb down her cheek with a big smile at him. He shrugs and looks a little bashful. She nods and goes back inside.

He watches Steve take a deep breath, and he walks over to sit back down on his crate seat, “Sorry ‘bout dat. So, uh, are you an artist den?” He pulls the pad back out and places it between them.

The sudden intrusion of Steve’s mom seems to give Eddie some of the English language back, “ I, um, yeah, I like to draw, but I wanna write,” he says and takes a swig of his drink immediately after speaking, to prevent himself from waffling too much.

“Oh, like for da paper?”

“Uh, well, maybe,” Eddie cannot bring himself to tell this beautiful being he’s wrong, “But books mostly. Stories and things like that,” now he feels that shyness again. Sometimes, it feels dumb to talk about his dreams out loud. Steve probably thinks he’s an idiot without a real job, but there isn’t a crumb of negativity on Steve’s face, just a broad smile.

“O’ course, you write stories and draw. Course ya do,” he says with a happy shake of his head, “Well ya know, if, er, yeah, I can always put a word in for you at da paper. I knowaguy,” Steve offers kindly, and Eddie can feel himself falling in love with how he talks with every word he says, on top of how kind and beautiful he is.

“Gee, that’d be swell,” Eddie says, unable to hide his gigantic grin.

Steve taps his finger on the pad, “I think. I might know these girls,” though Steve says it with a smile, Eddie freezes. Worried this man’s initial kindness was going to sour quickly now. He probably thinks the same as the guy outside his building. He feels such an idiot for drawing it in the first place, but he doesn’t see anything wrong in it because, for starters, one was an actual child, and the other two were beautiful. He could see that, but the same way he’d feel about a sunset or a lovely tree, not beautiful like attraction, not like he felt about Steve, but he couldn’t just tell someone that, so he plays along.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie keeps it short and tries not to make this worse than it needs to be.

“Yeah, dis one with da book. ‘Dats Nancy, she used to be my girl,” Steve says, not taking his eyes from the pad. Eddie's space rocket of impossible dreams explodes before it even leaves the stratosphere and sends his stomach plummeting. What did he expect, though, really? Steve’s finger moves across the paper, and he taps the heads of the other two girls, “Deez two, my sisters.” Shit. Eddie feels the need to run. This guy is gonna flip out any minute and probably crush his head like a melon between two of these wooden crates. But both through fear and the fact that Steve raises his soulful brown eyes to meet his, he stays put.

He knows he should say something, but he’s struggling to find the right watertight words and has no chance of being misunderstood. But he can’t think straight when he can see almost every small pigment detail in Steve’s eyes and presses his lips together, afraid he might just say something about them instead.

A loud slam of a car door pushes a word out of Eddie, “B-beautiful,” he blurts out.

“Oh,” Steve replies and pushes the pad over to Eddie. The smile fades from his lips, and Eddie hates it, so he just lets his motormouth let rip.

“The scene. I mean. The scene was beautiful. Not the girls. I mean, yes, they are beautiful, but I don't mean in that way. They were together but so different, and when I sat down to draw, they were perfectly framed from where I was sitting. I was inspired by them, you know? Like a nice tree or something. Back home is so different from here. All I had to draw sometimes were nice trees. I don’t know why I’m telling you about nice trees. I’m just saying that I didn't mean any harm. I know better now. I won’t do it again. I swear. This city has plenty more things that are inspiring. I just thought they looked kinda like if a personality was a group of people. I thought that fit this place because it's a huge mixture of cultures, sounds, and sights.”

Steve’s eyes don’t leave Eddie’s, “Da girl holdin’ the book. Dat’s Nancy. We used to date a while back. She’s real smart. I reckon yous two would get along real well. I could introduce ya if you want?”

“Oh god, no!” Eddie says way too quickly, with a laugh, “I mean, no, thank you. I’m not looking for a girl. I mean, I’m not looking to date right now. But thank you.” he awkwardly recovers as quickly as he can. Well, at least hopes he has. He thinks maybe he’s slightly successful as Steve leans forward a little to rest his chin on his fist, and a smile reappears.

“You know, maybe you could do it from here next time you wanna draw or write? ‘Deres normally a table, but I had to take it inside to fix somethin’ on it,” Eddie glimpses through the window of the store and quite clearly can see two elderly gentlemen playing checkers on it, “It’d be nice to have a creative type use it, prob’ly attract more people like ‘dat. If you wan’ I mean,” he says kindly.

Eddie can’t believe his luck. Yeah, sure, today had started off a complete mess, but now he had a movie-star-looking guy, basically saying, spend time with me every day, doing what you love. If it wasn’t for how Steve flips the toothpick around in his mouth, Eddie would have been completely lost in his eyes and swooned clear off the crate in front of him.

“Gosh, that's really kind of you. When are you usually here? Every day?” Eddie asks, maybe a little too enthusiastically, which makes Steve laugh, and it might be sweeter than morning birdsong to Eddie’s ears.

“Well-” Steve starts but is interrupted as the bell above the door rings again.

His mom emerges with a tray of coffee and tiny cups. This time, Eddie jumps to his feet to introduce himself properly and not just sit and stare. He quickly neatens up his clothes and clumsily tries to angle his leg, so it hides the tear in his pants. He almost laughs at his eagerness to impress her. He supposes he is new and wants to make a good impression, but he knows it's more than that. He knows that his fantasy brain is running away with him again, trying to impress the object of his affection’s mother. Like this could ever be a thing.

The small woman has beautifully coiffed dark brown hair, and her eyes look just the same as Steve’s, except her’s are expertly lined with makeup. She beams at Eddie as she sets the tray on the crate, which wobbles, and Steve rushes inside the store momentarily. Leaving Eddie and his mom smiling awkwardly at one another for a moment. Eddie can hear some raised voices but can’t make out any of the words the raised voices are exchanging and figures they must be talking in Italian. The two elderly men from inside emerge, grumbling. One with the checkerboard under his arm storms out first, followed by a second, who flicks his hand under his chin at Steve, who laughs and yells after them, “Well, if yous two ordered more dan a biscotti to share every day, den maybe you’d keep the table!” he shakes his head, “Fuckin’ stunad,”

“Stefano!” his mom reprimands him as he exchanges the crates for actual furniture. He seats his mom first as if that doesn't make Eddie’s heart beat faster with how sweet he is. He looks at Eddie and then down at the tray, and for a second, Eddie can’t do anything except look back like he’s hypnotised or something, but his mom coughs daintily, and Eddie realises what he needs to do and lifts the tray, as Steve swaps in a small table, and goes rushes back into the store and virtually jumps down the steps on his return, puts a chair one side of his mom, and then walks around to where Eddie and set down the last chair.

“Ma, dis is Eddie,” Steve whacks him hard on the back, and Eddie has to pinch his lips together in a smile to stop the oof from being expelled from them, from the sheer force of it, “He’s gonna be a big shot writer, ain’t dat right, Ed?”

Eddie dared not look at Steve right now. He was so close he felt the breath that contained his abbreviated name against his cheek. He keeps his eyes on Steve’s mom and offers an upturned hand towards her. She looks at him strangely but obliges him, putting her hand in his, and he kisses the back of it.

“A pleasure to meet you. I’m sure gonna try to make it at least,” he smiles back as she raises an eyebrow at Steve with an impressed face, and Eddie feels like this is his first shoot and success of the day.

But he’s not ready for feeling Steve’s warm hand slide against the small of his back as he guides him down into his chair and tucks it in for him, “Dere you go, much better, right?” Steve says happily as he returns to his own seat, and Eddie’s eyes obediently follow him all the way there, but when Steve’s eyes catch his again, he quickly looks away.

“You look, uh, wassa the word, similar,” his mom says, pulling his attention from the mosaic pattern on the tiny cups and saucers.

“It’s familiar, Ma,” Steve corrects, gently pouring the coffee into the cups from an odd-looking contraption.

“Ah, yeah, familiar,” she moves a finger quickly in front of her face, “Your eyes.”

“Oh, maybe you know my Mama, I mean mom,” Eddie says, quickly correcting himself again, but Steve and his mom exchange a happy look with one another and then back at Eddie, so he figures maybe they at least found it amusing rather than stupid.

“What's her name?” Steve asks, passing a tiny cup and saucer to his mom first and then to Eddie.

“Esmerelda,” Eddie tries, but two blank faces look back at him, “Uh, Esmerelda Munson, she lives right over there,” Eddie points out the building as he turns behind him.

The clatter of a teaspoon makes him spin around quickly to two now stunned faces.

“You're dat Eddie? Mrs Munson’s boy?” Steve asks hurriedly. 

Though the fear swirls in his gut that maybe his reputation might have preceded him, he’s in too deep to lie, “Yeah, you know her?” he says, swallowing nervously.

Steve’s mom claps her hands together, holds them up to her mouth like she's in prayer, and looks up to the canopy above them with a big smile.

“We sure do,” Steve grins, “She helped us out a lot when Pa passed. She’s a real kind lady.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. That must be difficult,” Eddie adds somberly as he watches how Steve drinks from the small cup and saucer and copies him. He understands immediately why this stuff is sipped and is in such tiny cups. It's much richer than regular coffee, almost thicker, and sweet too. It's delicious. Eddie can’t help himself and takes another sip immediately and lets out an involuntary sound of appreciation before setting down his cup.

“Si, a real, uh, ball-busta,” Steve's mom says happily.

Eddie nearly chokes on thin air as Steve complains, “Ma! Jesus! You don’t say that!” but Eddie can’t help laughing.

“Yeah, I guess she is a bit,” he beams at Steve’s mom, who pats pinches his cheek.

“Biddicchiu,” she laughs with him as Steve passes her the sketch pad and juts his thumb towards Eddie. Her eyes scan over the paper.

“I said Ed was welcome to work from here if he wants,” Steve says, “Hope dats ok?”

His mom nods, then gestures to the cigarette burn on the paper and the scuff marks. She speaks to Steve in Italian. Eddie guesses that because he can’t understand much, but he recognises her anger when she points her hand sharply at Eddie’s building, frowns deeply, and taps her temple. Eddie stays quiet and watches Steve reassure her.

“Can I have dissa one?” she says, gesturing at Eddie’s drawing.

“Yeah, but I can draw you a better one than that, on nicer-” Eddie starts, but she has already torn out the paper and folded it away in her own apron pocket.

“Ma says you’re welcome here anytime,” Steve smiles at him. Eddie is pretty sure there is more to what his mom said than that, but he doesn't want to press it, “We live just above here, so, uh, it dont matter what da time is, you know? One-a us’ll be here.” 

“Thank you, that's real kind,” Eddie says politely.

Steve's mom grips Eddie’s shoulder, looking at him seriously, “Listen to me, don-a talk widda, those boys over there. They no good. You come here, we not mucha further. Then your mama, no worry,” Eddie nods, and her red lipstick smile adorns her face again, “Besides, we gotta good food, better coffee, and a much nicer view, uh?” Eddie follows her eyes to Steve, who is blushing. Maybe he’s a bit embarrassed because he’s also had a run-in with those guys.

“Yeah, much better,” Eddie agrees, and Steve’s mom pats his cheek.

“Smart boy,” she says happily and looks up at Eddie’s building again, “I think deeza buildings so close you could see Stefano’s window from yours,” Eddie has no idea why she’s blessing him with this information, but his brain rapidly works out that he could probably see it from his own bedroom.

“MA!” Steve says in alarm and nudges her, then hurriedly clears up the tray as she lets out a melodic laugh, clutching her sides. Her eyes trail after him as he goes inside.

She turns back to Eddie, “My boy, he's good. Make you-a good friend. Yes?” She asks and puts a finger to her cheek and twists it around. She looks encouragingly at him, “You like?” She repeats the gesture against her cheek.

“Yes,” Eddie says enthusiastically. Even though he doesn't just like it here. He loves it here. They’d been so friendly and obviously tried to not think about the other things he liked about here.

“Si,” She says, takes Eddie's hand, and makes him mirror her gesture.

She lets go and tries again, “You like?”

“Si,” Eddie repeats and actions the gesture himself this time. She claps her hands together happily.

As Steve rejoins them, she starts talking at him, rapidly gesturing with her hands between himself and Steve. He can pick out his name and cafe, which he thinks must be related to coffee.

“Alright, alright, geez ma,” Steve says, looking a little confused at her and then turns to Eddie, “Before she has some kinda fit aboudit, she wants me to ask if yous liked the espresso,” Steve looking at him with a bashful smile.

Eddie is nudged in the ribs by Mrs Harrington, who nods encouragingly at him again. He cautiously raises his finger to his cheek and turns it, “Si?” he says awkwardly and looks between them.

At first, Steve's mouth parts ever so slightly, like he's going to say something, then his eyes move to his mom, and he shakes his head but can’t seem to wipe the smirk from his face.

The bell over the door rings, and they all turn towards it, and the customer that just entered. Steve stands, but his mother shakes her head at him and gently pushes him back into his seat as she stands up. At the door, she turns back to Eddie, “If your mama worksa late, you come eat with us.” That didn't sound like a question to Eddie, but he nodded anyway. She tuts and tilts her head at him, a playful frown on her brow.

“Si,” Eddie tries again, and she looks delighted as she ruffles Steve’s hair and walks into the store.

“Sorry about dat,” Steve says, picking at the table, “She’s a a lot sometimes.”

“Oh, I didn't mind at all,” Eddie replies truthfully, and suddenly, he remembers why he was coming this way anyway, “Oh god, food. Yeah, I have to get food, that's…” Eddie rummages through his things and finds the notepaper.

“Want some help?” Steve asks, standing at the same time Eddie does.

“No, you’ve done so much already. I couldn’t keep taking up your time like this,” Eddie laughs awkwardly, but all he really wants to do is say yes.

Steve waves his hand, “It’s no trouble for a paying customer,” He says and walks towards the steps to the store with Eddie. As they reach the door, Steve pushes it open for him, “Allow me, Sir,” he chuckles and follows Eddie inside.

Steve guides him around the place, helps Eddie find everything on his list, and puts an extra small box on top as he rings up the groceries.

“What's that?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Cannoli, your Ma likes ‘em,” Steve answers as Eddie places the money in his hand, trying not to let his fingers linger against his palm longer than they should.

“I’ll make sure she gets it,” Eddie smiles, unsure exactly what it was, but he’d be sure to pass it on, all the same.

“Want me to walk you home? I’ll make sure Billy, Jason and Tommy don't give you any trouble,” Steve says, leaning over the counter towards him.

Something about that made Eddie’s heart race, but he didn't want to appear weak, “No, it's fine. I’m used to it, just it was my first day here, and it kinda got to me, is all.” And that doesn't feel like as much of a lie as it seemed. Having this oasis of safety with Steve and his family didn’t make the thought of Billy and his goons seem so awful.

“You still gonna come by tomorrow?” Steve genuinely asks, his eyes big and innocent, scanning over Eddie as he gathers the grocery bags.

“Yeah, course I will,” Eddie answers like Steve asked him the most ridiculous question in the history of all mankind, “I feel pretty inspired again already,” Eddie smiles fondly at Steve, who was rapidly becoming one of his favourite things in the universe.

“Yeah?” Steve says, plucking the toothpick from behind his ear and putting it back in his mouth, “I reckon dis place could maybe be a great beginning…for your story, I mean,” he says, walking around the counter and holding the door open for Eddie again, following him outside.

“Tomorrow then,” Eddie smiles at him, trying not to sigh because tomorrow already felt too far away. Steve nods back, and Eddie catches a glimpse of Steve’s mom in the window. He gives her a wave and starts walking back to the apartment.

As he reaches the corner, he looks back. He can see Mrs Harrington buzzing and fussing around Steve, who looks like he is laughing and pretending to fight her off. He smiles to himself, and with the staircase of the building clear of idiots, he thinks that maybe Steve is right. 

This could be a perfect place for the beginning of his new story.

[unintentional-edgelord]

I finally, finally got my hands on the Zero/ZX Legacy Collection after long last, and have a lot of thoughts on the transition between Girouettes' death and the iconic Double Megamerge scene in the original ZX. It's a pretty well done sequence, hammered home by how cleaned up the cutscene was for the Legacy Collection.

I was originally going to write about the specifics of this scene, namely how it's a powerful reversal of X sacrificing himself/dying during the Omega battle in Z3 with Girouette giving his life and his Biometal to save Vent and Aile, and the emotional implications, but instead I got carried away exploring Girouettes' perspective of how everything plays out.

Ergo, there'll eventually be a companion post to this exploring Vent/Aile's feelings on everything, the contrast between this Double Megamerge and the one in Advent, and how the music mirrors that.

But TL,DR; Even if it was expected for Girouette to die, the lore and concept art of ZX lets you infer that his backstory had to have been similar to Vent and Aile's. Alongside what we see in the game, the emotional implication of the scene and the music really hammer home what a pivotal moment the Double Megamerge is, and how Girouettes' massive sacrifice drives the story forward. He knows that he'll die, but he'd much rather they live. And not not only that - he knows full well the pain, the sorrow and grief caused by his death will give them the fuel and determination to carry on and become "a hero who can protect everyone."

And this is exactly why he goes through with it.

From Girouettes' perspective, with a healthy dose of headcanon thrown in:

You were fairly young when you experienced loss. Your town was devastated by a maverick raid, and your younger siblings perished. Grief and trauma were hard to work through, but you got there, began to establish a life for yourself After. Started working, joined an organisation to prevent others from experiencing this same loss. Made something of yourself.

And not long after, you were given this immense power to wield that seemingly no-one else could - and you don't know why you were chosen for it. There's the borrowed power of an ancient hero singing in your veins and whispering encouragement in your head, teaching you how to use this strength for good. With his guidance as your partner, you slowly become a seasoned, veteran fighter - learn to balance your role as a defender, investigator, protector with that of a fledgling businessman.

A veteran fighter who rescues a traumatised kid in the aftermath of a raid, so very similar to the one you experienced years ago.

This child has no-one left except you, their rescuer.

And so you make the decision.

The decision to stay out of action and care for this traumatised kid.

You hide the fact that you've been a fighter to keep them safe; to keep them from losing family ever again. Your partner is proud of you and - though he misses the action - does what he can to guide you through this, as well.

Together, you do everything in your power to be the best father figure you can to this kid, to help them through the trauma; they slowly become both an employee and like your own child. Despite the war waging on somewhere in the background, it seems like your days of fighting are over.

And then through a series of unfortunate events, you watch as your adopted kid is able to wield the same power as you; bonds with and borrows the power of another of these ancient heroes. Horrified, you realise that no no no, they're about to get dragged into this war, as well, despite how long you've spent hiding that you're part of it from them.

But you think, at least I can be there to protect them. At least I don't have to hide this part of myself anymore. I can guide them like I was guided so they won't have to do this alone.

You watch your adopted kiddo run headfirst into danger in the name of saving people, so no-one loses family the way they once did, the way you did, too. So you think, I'll clear a path for them. I'll go ahead, go keep you safe.

And then you get ambushed.

There's three of them and one of you - your body isn't as strong as it used to be, crippled by an old injury, and through your shock and fighting for your life you dimly register that one of these men is the president of the company that saved our country? He's been lying to us the whole time!

You try your best, you get several good hits in but you simply can't win, no matter how hard you try, and they overpower you.

That's when your employee, your child, arrives; horror and fear twist and stab into your gut like a knife, and you're screaming for them to RUN! but your voice won't respond to your body.

But something else is responding and it's not the ancient hero; his voice has gone quiet, too. Instead it's this horrible, whispering force that takes over your body, and just barely you manage to tell your child, shoot me! before you're locked into your own head. Your feelings of fear, anguish and agony are mirrored on your child's face; you're unable to stop yourself from trying to murder your own child in cold blood, and use whatever little power you have left to restrain yourself from a killing blow.

They manage - miraculously, somehow, they manage to fight you to a standstill, begging you to stop the same way you're begging yourself to do so. Your heart is breaking, shattered into pieces at the tears streaming down their face - barely, just barely, you feel that terrible whisperings' influence ease away.

Moments later you're both struck down - and you know the only thing keeping you alive is the armour encasing your body, the power of that ancient hero on loan flowing through your veins. Said ancient hero's voice is once again echoing in your ears, in your head, telling you to stay put, that you're close to death, that I can't lose my Chosen, you're my partner in crime, Girouette, we'll make it through this. The thing that sets a Zero apart is our inability to stay dead. We're going to make it.

But outside of your head - there they are.

Your child.

Barely clinging to life, the loaned power of an ancient hero flowing through their veins is not enough. They're not strong enough yet, their breathing growing more pained by the second and tears forming in the corner of their eyes.

You can't leave them to die.

And so you make the decision.

To give them your strength - your partner knows what you're asking, why you're asking it.

Makes certain that you're sure.

You know you're going to die; you didn't want to go yet. But it's worth it, to see your child survive, live on, thrive.

The last of your life, the power flowing through your veins to them; the very last gift you'll ever give them.

The power to protect.

And as you slip into the nothingness, your partner whispering his goodbyes to you and your child's screams of anguish echoing in your heart, the very last thing you think is, I'm so very proud of you.

I love you.

And on this mortal plane, you are no more.

[katz-cradle]

‘ ———･❪ ✮ ❫ ･——— ’

‘ ———･❪ ✮ ❫ ･——— ’

These gals r a lil old I just forget 2 post them,, anyways Magical Girls I've been working on!! (I'll post the second group soon ^w^)

Aurelia ; “Aurelia is a shy and awkward person, never really being good with interacting with people; she always comes off as too annoying or too odd. She's always decided to just stay in her own bubble and do her own thing, whenever she does get comfortable with somebody she's very chatty and energetic and friendly.”

Marilyn ; “Marilyn is a very calm person being the most serious person of her group most of the time, she's very protective of those she cares for doing everything to keep them safe and healthy… she doesn't like talking about herself.”

Arashi ; “Arashi is laid-back and chill, being very mellow and doesn't take many things seriously except for her job & magical girl business. She's a bit hot tempered and will get into petty arguments for the fun of it, though she considers most folks her friend in some way.”

Briar ; “Briar is a flamboyant heartthrob, she's a bit bothersome when she meets people and commonly teases and plays with others and can come off as a bit vain, but deep down he's a sweetheart who cares about people deeply but just has expressing it.”

Louella ; “Louella is an optimistic person wanting to be nice towards anybody she comes across, though that causes her issues of putting others before herself and having a hard time standing up for herself. She has a tendency to underthink her accomplishments, making her work harder than she needs to.”

I need 2 figure out a name for their teams/story but I hope y'all enjoy!!

‘ ———･❪ ✮ ❫ ･——— ’

[renaiswriting]

Velvet Embrace (part 2)

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo/Reader

Summary:

Shadow people were always there in your life. They never disturbed you; they never interacted with you; it was like there was a pact between both of you to simply ignore each other. They saw you grow from a baby to an adult.

So why are you now getting attached to one of them who keeps looking out for you?

Warnings: None in this part I think

Word count: 1.2k

Author's note: Hello there! I'm creating a tag list, so if you wanna be tagged on the next updates for this story please let me know!

If you wanna be tagged, please fill out the tag list form

Previous | Velvet Embrace masterlist | Next

The Silent Watchers Masterlist

Masterlist

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"You're really tense." Your mother noticed, moving behind you and giving your tense shoulders a massage. "Those exams are really giving you a hard time, isn't it?

 

You nodded.

 

But it wasn't because of the exams.

 

You have been done with exams for almost a week now.

 

You haven't failed any of them.

 

"I just have been studying a lot lately." You excused yourself, giving him a weak smile.

 

"I can tell; look at those dark circles." Your mother clicked her tongue, shaking her head in disapproval. "Are you sleeping well? Are you eating enough vegetables? Maybe sending you away was not the right choice."

 

"I'm doing fine. Really." You reassured her, taking her hands in yours. "Exams would have been hell in here, just as it is on my own."

 

"Language." Your mother scolded you.

 

"Sorry. But soon I'll be on a break, and I'll come home more often. You'll get sick of me sleeping all day and eating all your food before you notice it." You laughed softly.

 

"I'll never get sick of you being home. You know it." She dismissed your words. "I'm always worried about you. I just want my baby to be healthy and happy."

 

"I am, mom. Don't worry about me; you worry too much."

 

"Whatever." She rolled her watery eyes, holding you in a thigh hug. "I love you."

 

"I love you, too."

 

"I'll make sure your father remembers to drop by next Tuesday and give you some of the meat he will buy; he always buys way too much for us two."

 

Having these weekend visits was never easy. You went back home, missing your family more than ever, and the big empty house always made you feel lonely.

 

Not to mention that they always insist on you staying for dinner and to sleep, even when you didn't bring your books with you.

 

Which always ended up with you going back home when it was already late and dark.

 

And it meant dealing with them.

 

You took a deep breath from the other side of the door. Your father was watching you from his car, waiting to see you get inside safely before driving back to his own house.

 

You have never mentioned the shadows again, ever since you were little.

 

You were scared they would think you had officially lost your kind and make you go back to them.

 

You needed to prove to them that you were not crazy. That you were not imagining things and, most importantly, that you would do well in life even if those things were always around.

 

You needed to prove it.

 

You needed to prove it to yourself.

 

You need to believe it yourself.

 

You could hear the TV from outside; you remember clearly leaving the house on Friday afternoon and turning the TV off to avoid having a big bill at the end of the month.

 

But clearly, Hidden did not have any consideration for your wallet, and he probably even knew about the existence of bills and money.

 

You opened the door.

 

Everything seemed normal.

 

The hallway was barely illuminated by the lights coming from your bedroom, all the way from the second floor.

 

The kitchen was silent, as was the second floor; the only noise that you could hear was the one coming from the TV and from the bathroom that you had forbid yourself from ever entering.

 

You waved your dad goodbye when the car started driving away, closing the door behind your back. You clunked your bag and your jacket closer to your chest, like an invisible cape to protect you from the shadows.

 

You took your shoes off, not wanting to make any sort of noise as you were walking through the stairs.

 

The sofa moved near the window, and that was enough to make you run upstairs.

 

You shut your door. Your chest was moving up and down fast as your lungs were trying to catch as much air as possible.

 

Your jacket and bag were both at your feet, your body resting against the door to give it extra weight and make it more difficult to open it if one of the shadows were even trying to.

 

When you recovered, you moved to your closet, searching for your pajamas to change into and make yourself feel safe.

 

Or at least as soon as possible.

 

Your phone vibrated with an upcoming call from one of your university classmates.

 

"Hello! Did I call you in a bad moment?"

 

"Of course not! What do you need?" You replied. Kate was sounding just as stressed as you remembered her. She was in so many classes that you actually wondered how she managed to pass every single one of them and still find time to eat and sleep.

 

"I was checking our team project, and I realized Melissa didn't answer one of the points she was supposed to make." She sighed. "I tried to contact her all day; I called her like five times, and I haven't received any reply from her yet. I would do this on my own if I could, but I still have to study for my Math exam tomorrow and the Economic one I have next Tuesday. Could you do me a favor and do that answer, please?"

 

"That's weird; I texted her this morning and she replied to me," you frowned, "but yeah, I'll look at it now and see what I can do. Don't worry about it."

 

"Thank you! I'll be here all night, so if you need something, just text me, alright? See you tomorrow."

 

I was not needing that sleep at all. You bitterly said to yourself, finally freeing you from the uncomfortable outside clothes to your comfortable pajamas.

 

You knew why Melissa hadn't replied to any of Kate's texts or calls.

 

She had mentioned to you about that party she was so eager to go to and the one she had invited you to a thousand times because she didn't feel like going alone.

 

There was no way to get out of it now, you thought. You wouldn't be selfish and drop everything on Kate; she was already extremely busy, and you couldn't make Melissa start writing what she hasn't done yet because the girl was probably drunk by now.

 

It needed to be done by tomorrow.

 

You were ready for another all-nighter.

 

This was the fourth one on that list that week; one more? What could possibly be added to the list?

 

You opened the file Kate sent to your email, checking every single answer just in case something else was missing since you couldn't afford to fail it.

 

You were already fifteen minutes in when a soft knock on your door startled you.

 

You kept quiet, not moving at all.

 

The knock repeated itself once again when there was no reply from your side.

 

Then, something moved under your door; it was a tiny piece of paper with something written on the back of it.

 

Hello.

 

The letters were neatly written, with a black tint.

 

You took it with shaking hands; your body temperature was dropping with every second that passed.

 

The knocking started again. It was always the same. One single knock was enough to tell you that it was still there, waiting for a response.

 

Another tiny piece of paper moved under the doorframe.

(Y/n).

[watercolor-hearts]

carlando hurt/comfort

Anything related to when Lando got mugged

Carlando number 2 is here, I hope you like it. ❤ And I also hope that this was the Lando got mugged situation you were thinking about because I've only been here for a year so I don't know everything about every driver but I found an article about this watch stealing at the Wembley thing so I guessed that was it. If not, then I'm sorry.

Carlos/Lando • 633 words • panic attack (kinda) • emotional hurt/comfort • hugs • Ao3 link

-

“Carlos, some people—they—they—” Lando sounded like he had just run a marathon, he was breathless, his voice was trembling, his body shaking and his heart racing like it was about to jump out of his body as he tried to hold his phone still to be able to talk to Carlos.

“What happened, Lando?” Carlos asked while quickly washing his hand to then be able to go and look for Lando.

“They—they've taken my watch and they—they...”

“Mierda, I'm on my way out of the bathroom. Where are you?”

“I—I'm—I'm outside the stadium. Some—some drunken fans stormed in and—and they ran a riot or—or something and—and—”

“Lando,” Carlos cut his sentence in half by saying his name as calmly as he could, even though he was terrified of hearing Lando close to a panic attack. He needed to find and help him. But help him first, that's the most important. “Can you take a few deep breaths for me? You're hyperventilating and it's not good for you.”

“I—I can try but please—please Carlos be careful when you come out. I don't want them to h—hurt you.”

“I'm almost out, don't worry. They're taking care of these...,” Carlos was looking for the right word because people who behave like this don't deserve to be called fans, “these people. So please, take a deep breath for me. I'm gonna stay with you on the phone and I want to hear you doing it, okay?”

“I can breathe, it's just a bit fast. But I'm okay now.”

“Lando, please,” Carlos asked a bit more seriously as he was almost out of the stadium.

“Okay, okay,” Lando said because he didn't want to argue with Carlos, and then took a deep breath. It was a bit shaky but he managed to do it.

“Good job. Keep doing it, I'm at the main entrance now, I'll be with you soon. Are you somewhere safe?”

“I'm sitting on—on a bench, you'll see me once you're out. There are a few people but they're going away and there are some security personnel so I guess it's safe now.”

“Okay, good, that's good,” Carlos said as he stepped out of the stadium and started looking for Lando. It didn't take more than a few moments for Carlos to find Lando on one of the benches next to a bush. As Lando looked at him, Carlos started sprinting there to hug him and make him feel safe again.

“Cariño,” Carlos breathed in relief as he hugged Lando tight, their hearts racing so close to each other they could nearly touch and become one strong and scared pump finding its healthy rhythm again as Carlos and Lando breathed into each other's neck, not letting the other go for long, long moments.

“You're here,” Lando mumbled, closing his eyes and staying in the hug for a few seconds more. It helped to calm his racing heart and still-a-bit-fast breathing down.

“I'm here, Cariño, I'm here and I'm sorry for leaving you alone. Are you okay physically? Did they hit you?”

“One of them held me and the other pulled off my watch and then they ran away. I'm okay physically. I'm just... Still a bit shaken up. But you're here now and you're holding me. I think I'm gonna be okay, I just need time to... Process what has happened.”

“Let's go back to the hotel,” Carlos said, caressing Lando's back with one of his hands, “I order room service, a delicious, warm tea for you, some comfort food, and then we can cuddle. Good plan, no?”

“Sounds good,” Lando nodded, finally letting Carlos go so they could go back to the hotel and continue the hugging and cuddling there.

[denimbex1986]

'I'm at home in London, currently in my kitchen. It's fine. It's a bit of a weird time, but I'm kind of determined that when it's all over I'll get something out of it, you know? It's the first time in a long time that I've been able to stop, so if people I love are able to remain healthy then I feel kind of grateful.

People keep talking about the eerie calm, but I don't think it's the calm that's eerie, it's the fact it's happened so quickly, because stuffing ourselves into a tube five days out of seven is pretty eerie, I think. There's loads of eerie stuff the other way too.

I've got a few daily activities to stay calm. The main one is avoiding freaking out. I decided to have five things that I'm going to do every day and if i don't do them I'm not going to freak out. The best thing that I did was listen to Mo Gawdat. He wrote a book on happiness [Solve For Happy] and Elizabeth Day interviews him on her podcast. He just speaks with an incredible humanity, generosity, wisdom and calm about what this could be and how rather than following the herd we should focus on what we do and think ourselves. The majority of us are safe, he says – though he doesn't minimise the pain that some people are going through – and it's really been beneficial. It's brilliant. Elizabeth Day has just interviewed the great philosopher Alain de Botton too. Both are just guys who have great overviews.

I encourage all people to use the mute button on social media more, by the way. We are surrounded by so much information at the moment. I do not need to see a picture of an empty shelf in a supermarket, because that signifies to me that you, my friend, are an empty shelf.

This is the first pandemic we've had with social media and there's so much information. It's brilliant, Instagram, but you suddenly become aware, when your world becomes smaller, that you just don't need to engage. And people's misery seems to be the same as their showing off – people seem to show off their misery as much as their fabulousness. There are some people on Instagram who make you think, “That person is invading my daily life and I haven’t even met them!” So to be able to decide “I don't need you at this time”… there's something good about that. It's about looking to console people, rather than be consoled.

I suppose one thing I'd really like to change after the pandemic is people's attitude to what social media actually is. The point is about real connection, not just to filter the fuck out of everything.

With Zoom and being able to be online all the time, maybe there is a way of staggering traffic into the office, for instance. Maybe you don't need to be in work for 9am every day. It makes you realise things can change. Good stuff will come out of it, I think. Shaking things up and making people question who they are outside of their day-to-day persona: that's not a bad thing. The question is what makes you genuinely happy? What do you miss?

I am missing dressing up and occasions and all that stuff. But I've always been a big fan of the nonevent. Like the day after a wedding or at a funeral, when you don't expect anything specific and you're allowed to be whatever you want.

I had a Zoom conversation with one of my friends the other day and we showed each other all the shit clothes we're wearing right now. We did a little fashion show. It's amazing how it moves to the background in a situation like this, clothes and all of that stuff. There's a great freedom in that.

I went to a surprise Zoom birthday last week and it makes you realise what you bring to a party. You've got to bring something! Dressing up and having a sense of occasion is usually what you bring to a party, but in Zoom land you've got to bring more than that – you've got to bring the party! You can't just stand there.

I find on Zoom after two drinks I'm hammered and then you come off the call and you find yourself in your apartment swaying around and your like, “Jesus, I'm absolutely gone. Who else will I Zoom?”

Sometimes you need to stop and look at what's outside work – what's important. It sounds like a cliché, but that's a really big one for me.

Both my sisters put me on to Ryan Heffington's dance classes. He's based in LA and he's just full of joy and it's really stupid. He asks you to pick up bits of your laundry and swing them around. He's got some “punch the president” moves. The music is really fun, really camp. It's on LA time, but it stays up until the next day. But he’s a really brilliant choreographer and he leads you through the moves so it's not all high-octane. Afterwards you just feel really brilliant!" [Follow Ryan Heffington on Instagram here.]

I'm in love with my resistance bands. You can do so much with them. In this time when everyone's in their head, it's important to keep the exercise up. I never really used these before because I always went to the gym, but I've found out that you can break a sweat at home! You can do all sorts of things with these – you stretch them as much as you can.

I've been watching a lot of Tiger King, obviously, but I've also been watching Making The Cut, that new show with Heidi Klum and Tim Gunn. It's amazing. I love a design show – I loved Project Runway, I liked Next In Fashion – but the judges in this are Naomi Campbell and Carine Roitfeld, so it's proper high fashion. I love all that kind of stuff.

People keep saying, “Stay connected,” and I think that's important, but the person you're spending all your time with is yourself. And If I'm not checking in with what's going on with me, and I'm constantly Face Timing people and looking outwards rather than inwards… you go a bit nuts. So it's been a good time to meditate. I've had a mixed experience with meditation, but as things have gone a bit more mental I've needed a still space. And with all this information, I've found that if you look inwards and find peace, you're able to take that peace to the world. It doesn't feel hippy-dippy to me; it feels scientific. If you get better at finding the calm in yourself, I think it's easier to make sense of what's happening.

In terms of grooming I'm using Murdock's sea salt spray, because it's the only bit of sea I'm going to get right now!'

[alexandriteobscuraarchive]

I think I might've missed the posts about the situation but why did you split your blog up and (most importantly) are you doing okay? I know that was something that was a big source of stress for you. Also can people follow your new blog?

((First and foremost: thank you for asking if I'm okay or not. I know that's a rather easy thing to just assume one way or another online and I appreciate the care and effort. Also I'm sorry if you missed anything important, I tried to reblog the related posts a handful of times but you can't always reach everyone, you know? It wasn't intentional I assure you. To answer if I'm okay or not I'm....getting there, is the best way to put it I suppose? I'll try to keep this brief.

I'm taking a slight break (not a hiatus and while I do occasionally slap a post on the dash I'm not really speaking or engaging ic) from this blog because; and I'm trying to keep this is a simple as I can, I'm dealing with a lot of feelings of anger and resentment towards this blog (which I know is unfair to the people--which is pretty much everyone here---who haven't done anything wrong but I'll spare detailing you the intricacies of my deeply rooted anxieties and etc) which is harder for me to reconcile/progress with in a positive way compared to feeling stressed and lonely over on the new blog at the moment and so I'm choosing to focus my efforts over there because I feel like I can progress in a positive/healthy way, enjoy what I'm doing in a safe space, and so on. I am incredibly stressed---what I did and am still working on diligently to the best of my ability every day---is stressful to the point of being overwhelming if I think about it too hard, look at everything on the whole, etc, but it's necessary. It's necessary to enforce boundaries and not neglect myself a space where I can write what I want and what I love so dearly and that makes it worth it.

I split my blog up due to a lot of unwarranted harassment (anonymous for the most part but some people weren't, all of them have been blocked) that has been going on for months a thing that only increased in severity in spite of my earnest attempts to understand or work through what was going on, reconcile any expressed 'issues', repeat and thorough attempts to explain my side of things including offering to help people around the content that they professed to hate so strongly (said hate which bled over to me as a person and writer/roleplayer in general) and so on. It became untenable incredibly quickly---and if you followed me to alexandrite (which had a different name/center muse originally but I digress) from my former rp blog you'd know how severe the harassment there was and how I promised myself I'd handle such things in the future--- and this is me doing that. This experience on the whole was incredibly similar to the one that happened on my og blog and I promised myself that I wouldn't go through that again if i could help it.

I deserve to be treated better; both by myself and by everyone else, and this is me doing that (meaning treating myself better at the very least rather than staying in a hateful/hurtful environment) even if most days it makes me want to scream. Did I want to split everything up? To be completely honest no I did not. But I think in the end this is the best solution for everyone involved---but most of all this is the best solution for me---and once the stress ebbs a bit (and by a bit I mean a lot, a fucking lot, because I'm kinda drowning rn lol) I'm hoping to feel more secure. I'm....getting there, like I said. One thing at a time, always one thing at a time. I'm already doing good things over there and soon I'll be doing good things over here again too. Both blogs can (and will) coexist and we can all have fun together no matter where you follow me or who you want to interact with....eventually. I wish that people would realize how they treat others---that driving someone out of their own space when they've done nothing wrong, when the only thing they've done (or tried to do) is share something that they love with their friends/writing partners---isn't okay. I wish people would realize that how I was treated was not fucking okay (and most won't unfortunately) but I realized it and that, at least, is important. I said 'this isn't okay' and did what I needed to do not only to better myself (which is something that is incredibly hard for me to do; honestly it would've been impossible for me to do even a year ago) but to keep doing what I love. I'm trying to focus on that. I'm trying to let that drive me forward over everything else.

And to end on a further positive note: Yes, you can follow my new blog if you want to, all that I ask is that you make sure that your interest in the blog and the muses featured there is genuine and that you actually want to interact with them before following. If you liked them (any of them) and wanted to interact but never had the chance for whatever reason, or if we started something but never finalized anything yet, so and so forth, you're welcome to come on over because I'd love to have you. And if you don't (because as I've said a hundred times to idk how many deaf/closed ears) have any interest that's okay too. They're not for everyone and it's a lot to learn/take in even with my offering to help people in a variety of ways (an offer that is always open!), I get that and hold no resentment in that regard whatsoever, all that I ask is that you understand that I'm taking care of myself by doing this...all of this...and that I appreciate you too. The people who remain here waiting for me to come back and post for the muses here are just as appreciated as the people who follow me on my new blog. I love all of you very much no matter what and I look forward to writing with you all again, it's just that some of you will see more of me than the others will, at least for a little while.

If you want to follow my tcol blog you can go here @constellationcrowned (you'll see my self promo for the blog over here periodically as well, it's obvious af lol) or if you have any questions please feel free to contact me privately either over there or on discord. And thank you again for your kind words anon, truly, I hope you have a nice day/night and I look forward to potentially writing with you soon no matter where that might be.))

[scheodingers-muppet]

Welcome back to "Jace has Stranger Things and Taylor Swift brainrot." On today's episode: Red. I'm going kinda out of order, but I honestly think I'll end up doing every album so if you want to see a specific album, let me know

State of Grace: Steddie. "I never saw you coming" "You were never a saint, and I've loved in shades of wrong" They both can be mean and tough, but they were so soft around each other almost immediately

Red: Stancy, from Steve's POV. The relationship was honestly toxic, but it was filled with adrenaline and most likely Steve's first real love. Losing her was hard, since he loved her so strongly. I'm also a "Steve's emotions are too big for his body" person so I might be projecting

Treacherous: Lumax. Max grew up without a strong sense of what a healthy relationship should look like. Her stepdad sucked and was likely awful to her Mom. She's scared of what love and letting people in her bubble mean. Then you add the fact Billy straight up told her to avoid Lucas but she couldn't resist. Then Lucas warning her that getting involved with him could be dangerous. It's not safe on paper, but she loves him

I Knew You Were Trouble: Stancy, from Steve's side. I promise not all the breakup songs will be Stancy. But the line "the saddest fear comes creeping in that you never loved me, or her, or anyone" paired with the fight, her inability to tell Steve she loves him, the strain with Jonathan in season 4. It just fits so well

All Too Well: Mike and El. "Any time now, he's gonna say it's love. You never called it what it was, til we were dead and gone and buried, checked the pulse and come back swearing it's the same." "You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath" and Mike literally keeping her a secret at first. "I'm a crumbled up piece of paper" as an analogy to the letters. "Maybe we got lost in translation" and El feeling like she isn't even the same species as Mike. "The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy ever, lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you" Need I continue?

22: Season 3 Elmax at the mall. Just being teenage girls, the way they deserve. Also, imagine them having a sleepover, dancing around screaming this song while Hopper's at work one night. Adorable

I Almost Do: Jopper. I think the idea that Joyce waited for Hopper, for him to mature or whatever it was, and finally had to stop waiting. It tore them both apart, but I think Joyce would have had a similar reaction to this song; through Lonnie (or however you spell his name), Bob. Everything

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together: Lumax. My on-again-off-again OTP. Another big slumber party song. They will get back together though, let's be honest

Stay Stay Stay: Platonic Stobbin. I just know Robin would be horrible in an actual fight, she'd get so ready for someone to leave and just snap at them. Steve would try to make her laugh once they sit down to talk it out to relieve the tension. In Steve's eyes, everyone he loves leaves, but Robin stays

The Last Time: Byler. Will has had to beg Mike to give him some attention lately, like in season 4 with the letter fight. "The is the last time I'm asking you this, put my name at the top of your list" "You break my heart in the blink of an eye" "This is the last time I say it's been you all along"

Holy Ground: Platonic Stancy. Like, they've both moved on and have each other as friends in their lives. I love the idea of Steddie and Ronance, with Steve and Nancy dancing together at their weddings

Sad Beautiful Tragic: Jancy. They only started hanging out because of tragedies. Their relationship has only existed because of horrible things, but they found beauty in it. "Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting" and "Could you just try to listen?" with the fight in season 3 and them living on opposite sides of the country in season 4.

The Lucky One: Steve. "You had it figured out since you were in school, everybody loves pretty, everybody loves cool" Everyone is quick to tell him he's got it good since he has a rich family and was Mr. Popular, but he's lonely. "Your lover in the foyer doesn't even know you." "You don't feel pretty, you just feel used" "You wonder if you'll make it out alive"

Everything Has Changed: Lumax!! "All I've seen since 18 hours ago is green eyes, and freckles and your smile in the back of my mind" "All I know is a simple name and everything as changed" from Lucas's pov. "All my walls stood tall, painted blue but I'll take 'em down and open up the door for you" "All I know is a new found grace. All my days, I'll know your face" from Max

Starlight: Robin. I think Robin would love space and the stars. We know she loves music, and I think she'd like to dance too. Also the line "worrying so much about things you can't change. You'll spend your whole life singing the blues if you keep thinking that way" fits her so well. And the line "He's talking crazy, dancing with me. We could get married, have ten kids and teach them how to dream" reads to me as Robin playfully joking about Steve's old crush on her, and I think the two of them would totally hang out on Robin's prom night, but Steve would still make her dance because everyone deserves an awkward prom slow dance

Begin Again: Max, not necessarily about a relationship though. This song makes me think of Max's damaged relationship with men and the party helping her heal that. Billy was abusive, her stepdad sucked. We see Steve be that protective figure where Billy was the opposite. Hopper would totally also take her under his wing and show her what a father figure should be. The boys in the party treat her as an equal. They think she's fierce and funny and beautiful, but they treat her as a person too. She's not used to that; the men in her life haven't been good to her. But they're showing her how worthy she is

The Moment I Knew: Byler. I love Mike, but he's severely dropped the ball for Will. Will was so excited to see him in season 4, but he's hardly paying attention to him before everything happens. Add the fact that season 4 should have been over Will's birthday

Come Back... Be Here: Steddie. "I told myself don't get attached." "I don't want to miss you like this" "If I had known what I'd known now, I never would've played so nonchalant" "I can't help but wish you took me with you" "This is falling in love in the cruelest way" "This is falling for you and you are worlds away"

Girl At Home: Honestly, Murray. Why? I Don't know. But it's him.

Ronan: Hopper (I'm sorry) I think we often forget he lost his daughter, and not only that, he blames himself. The little memories we see show how much he loved her.

Better Man: Max about Billy. She wanted to love him but he was so horrible to her and we see in season 4 how she does miss him. "Talking down to me like I'd always be around, push my love away like it was some kind of loaded gun" "I wish it wasn't 4 am standing in the mirror saying 'you know you had to it' I know the bravest thing I ever did was wrong"

Nothing New: Nancy. "Girls go out and have your fun' then they hunt and slay the ones who actually do it" Nancy tried to be a teenage girl and lost her best friend, blames herself for it, got slutshammed to the whole town, and became a monster hunter. She deals with the most sexism, both from other characters and the fandom. "what will become of me once I lost my novelty" "how can a person know everything at 18 and nothing at 22?" "She'll know the way and then she'll say she got the map from me" about Holly or Erica, and feeling so conflicted because these girls look up to her but she feels like a mess who shouldn't be a goal to reach. Especially for Erica, since she got roped into the Upside Down stuff so young.

The other vault songs don't really match in my opinion, so this is all for today

[dcwnrisen-aa]

Clarence didn't know how to feel, it was a wariness in his bones that held him back from seeing Fugaku as anything but a monster. His own father beat it into his genetics he felt like, like he will never be able to see another father figure for himself so to think that this man would take him in and show him nothing but a stern affection. It was a strange sensation, wide-eyed and alert whenever Fugaku was in his presence. The touches to his hair and head, the subtle sitting next to him.

His hand trembles but he holds himself well even as he turns his head away from Fugaku to look at Itachi and lean a little bit closer to him with a low whisper; "Am I stealing? Is this okay? He is your father, right? He isn't going to hurt me? Wh-what if your mother will? Am I overstepping?" Ah - he was starting to panic now, his father beat him many times for trying to even look at his mother before. Ah - he felt sick. "I need to go, I need to go..."

Sometimes it makes Fugaku's heart clench, like a heart attack is on the horizon when he sees the way Clarence holds himself, specifically in his presence. Fear -- anxious energy that bleeds out can imply many things but this was so prevalent that it brings rage to the one who put it inside Clarence, and Fugaku didn't get angry often, tried not to but he wanted to sharpen his claws on someone's fucking bones. But he held that back, because despite it all, Clarence was a child, one who needed love, family and their Clan could easily give that to him.

Already they saw him as one of their own, but the Patriarch was attached, he rather liked being able to be paternal toward someone than his own children. In his mind though, Clarence was already his son. So he holds back the smile that nearly tugs at his lips when the male in question leans over to ask his eldest those questions, and keen ears picked them up easily and ah, his heart, there it went again.

Itachi cleared his throat, brows furrowing, lips parting as though to answer but he knew Clarence was spiraling, his panic was so…..obvious and every part of him wanted to hold the other close and stroke his hair until he calmed. ❝ ━ You cannot steal family, brother mine. Even if I never married Fushimi, my family would've taken you in. I know it's difficult to percieve people in a manner of safety, but my mom and father have never hurt me or Sasuke. Nor would they ever hurt you. It's okay to be scared, my father can be intense but he does care about you, and you wouldn't be overstepping in wanting a healthy paternal relationship, he would keep you safe and I think I'd be remiss to not say he would die for you just as he would for me. ❞

Fugaku stepped forwardly slowly, keeping his hands by his side so he wasn't percieved as a threat, keeping them in everyone's line of sight. With slow, measured steps did he approach Clarence, gently sweeping strands off dampened forehead, taking in his pounding heart, the glossy eyes as he descended into panic. ❝ ━ Hey, can you take a breath for me ? I just need you to breathe, just for a second okay ? In through your nose, deep then slowly through mouth. ❞

He wants a beat, dipping his head to meet Clarence's gaze then shifted his hand to gently comb through dark strands, the tip of his mouth quirking upward, ❝ ━ We wouldn't hurt you. I would never hurt you. If you make a mistake, it's fine, we all do, that doesn't constitute punisment. It just means you stumbled and I'll help you through it. If you feel like you're overstepping, talk to me, ask me. You're allowed to ask questions, to be unsure. I might not always have the answers, Mikoto holds all the brains, fortunately. But I'm here for everything else. So please, just stay, you're allowed to need….to be scared, but let me prove myself. Let us care for you in the way you should've been. ❞

[dumbass-diary]

Please bear with me, I think I discovered a really cool idea, but I gotta put it in context of my train of thought that brought me there. I'll put a TL;DR at the bottom.

In my life, one of the things that I'm dealing with is work, my attitude towards it, productivity, focus, being able to relax, the balance between relaxation and work, how to relax in a healthy way etc.

Today I've been out on a stroll, plagued more than usual with the constant need for productivity.

How interesting that our culture places productivity as one of its top values. Actually it's not that interesting, but what is is to think about other cultures and their values and how easy it is to just be a completely different person. Hypothetically I could be out chopping heads off of other people who cross this one specific river, because I completely believe it is the right thing that my deity wants me to do. (not an existing example)

Anyway, how nice would it be to just not have to be productive. You get that feeling when going on a vacation - freedom, not having to deal with deadlines, stress from stuff you're supposed to do, and don't have to take care of anything but your next meal.

But even that is not true. You have to keep in mind when you're returning, and that feels like a time constraint - a deadline. And that puts pressure on you to squeeze every last drop of freedom out of the time you were given, which in turn makes you enjoy it less.

I want freedom, I don't want any obligations, or things I need to keep track of, or responsibilities. I want the feeling of having all the time in the world, not just for 5 days but for as far as I can see.

The best way to do this would probably be: just, in a period where you don't have a job or school or other responsibilities, take a backpack, stuff it with some clothes and a sleeping arrangement and just take off into the sunset. No plans when you return.

However you would require a safe place to return to, because remember we don't want to worry about anything or plan for anything. So if you wound up sick or mugged or drenched in rain, you could go back no sweat. (and yes it is hypocrisy, and not realistic to want a housing with water and food without any job or money but hey).

And then it hit me. What if we removed the need to get a job. We remove jobs, we remove school, we remove social obligations.

Let's go further. Let's remove the need to eat, the need to drink water. Let's remove chores, any maintenance that has to be done on the human body or our surroundings. (to a reasonable extent, and we can debate what that means - like no need for dusting anymore, which is cool, but what about no need to put stuff back where it belongs, how would that work?). Let's even remove the need to go to the doctor - no more sickness or suddenly emerging tumors/diseases etc. (unless you cause it yourself, like breaking your arm - and again, we can debate this)

Let's imagine for a moment a human whose every obligation, every duty, every "must" has been removed.

A being who doesn't have to do anything to survive, it could stay still for years and nothing would happen until it perished from old age (yes, old age is technically deterioration but let's ignore that now). And also wasn't beholden to anybody or anything.

What would they do? How would they behave? What would they be like?

And better yet. Imagine a whole race like this. Imagine if the earth was inhabited with them instead of us. What would their values be? How would that society even function? And what would it be based on?

This might be the other side of the coin of Immortality. Immortality is always the desire to live endlessly stemming from the desire to try everything in life. To have the time to experience everything we want in more than enough quantity. To see the whole world. And to not have to hurry to do so, because you have endless time.

If Immortality is something that let's say stretches the x axis - in so that it prolongs the time we have infinitely - I think this approach stretches the y axis - in the sense that it removes every reason why we can't explore the whole world hundred times over in the time that we were given.

No jobs, no need to buy or prepare food etc.

TL;DR How interesting would it be to have a human whose every obligation, every duty, every "must" has been removed. Job, school, food, sustenance, maintenance...

Nad what if we had a society of them.

[mapleleavesart]

I'll do you one better... Well... 3 better

🌹 (rose) - What does your oc find attractive in other people? Are these traits found in their friends and/or romantic partners? Are they found in themselves?

💔 (broken heart) - Who has your character hurt most? Physically or emotionally? How did it feel? Do they regret it?

🥩 (steak) - Does your oc have any coping mechanisms? Healthy or unhealthy?

💄 (lipstick) - What does your oc think of their face? Do they have a positive or negative opinion? Do they wear makeup? Do they have a skincare routine? What traits do they like most about their face?

Eheheheh FIRST ASK IN WEEKS I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FISH

🌹

Sakura and Mei are both huge about respect! They didn't get a lot of that growing up so it's liberating to them when someone respects their decisions or wants.

Sakura needs patience (esp in conversations, as she's not fluent in English yet) as well as personal space. She doesn't like when ppl touch her body without permission, so she likes to be able to give the okay. There are exceptions to that rule (to get her attention, guide her somewhere, etc) but she's still picky about where and how she's touched. Lower back? Nope. Arm, shoulders, and the very tip of her tail? Usually pretty safe (gotta be the last few inches of her tail tho, and only with friends).

She does respect other people's boundaries, and if they ask her to stop/don't do something she takes that as a hard/fast rule. She takes "don't do that" as a law with a consequence of death and will revert to people pleasing behavior to make it up to them

Their personal space.... Less so. Particularly with the few people she's closest to, she'll lean against, curl up on/next to, hold hands with, etc. She'll still follow any "don't do/touch that" rule, like with Donnie's bare shell or their tails, but she can be super cuddly.

Sakura's also attracted to gentleness. She's been roughed around for a good portion of her life, so seeing someone, especially a man, be gentle is miraculous to her. Ofc all the turtles are good with these, to varying degrees.

Mei likes the sunshine people (*cough*Mikey*cough*) She loves a fellow creative who brings light into her dull life. She can listen as well as she can talk someone's ears off, and admires when other people listen and absorb what she says. She admires how Mikey doesn't pry into her life and let's her just talk about everything and nothing. Like I said before, respect is a high value for her, and she likes being seen as more than her father's daughter or a Lady. She likes being able to loosen up and not adhere to the strict rules of the upper class world, and Mikey and his brothers are great for that.

💔 ooooughhh this is a fun one. I have lore for this.

Sakura... This one is hard. Her lore is in need of rewriting and I don't have names for the people because it's not significant to the plot, and Sakura herself doesn't know. But she was caught up in human (well, mutant, in her case) trafficking that also made them fight in cages. So the men who did that have hurt her the most.

There's also Penelope, the daughter of the leader. Penelope promised to escape and run away with Sakura, but ended up stabbing her in the back (literally) and helped her father recapture Sakura (double back stab).

For Mei... Hm. That's probably Shangti, her father. I turned him from a loving dad to an abusive one... Mei was originally supposed to be my one OC with no trauma but that didn't stay that way for long 🤣

Shangti doesn't physically hurt Mei. But he does push her to high standards and makes many slights on her appearance, particularly her weight, which makes Mei very insecure about her body. He pressures her to be perfect — perfect posture, perfect manners, etc. It makes her feel trapped. She may be one of the richest yokai in the Hidden City, but that means very little when you're locked in your mansion, with only servants to keep you company.

🥩 coping mechanisms

Sakura runs and hides in any tight space when she gets scared or uncomfortable. She chews on her claws when she's anxious. Sakura always has at least one pocket knife on her at all times — often, several, tucked into pockets or waistbands. The turtles have been teaching her breathing exercises though! It's just a matter of, you know. Remembering them mid-panic attack 🤣

Mei leans more to escapism to cope. She reads or paints to get her mind off something. Or gets her hands dirty while taking care of the plants in the green house, repotting something or adding fertilizer or reorganizing her plants. Or petting/talking to Jacques the giant semi-sentient flytrap.

💄what they think about their faces... Hm, I've not thought about this one for either of them.

They're both very insecure individuals. I'm not sure how makeup would work with their fur. I'm sure Shangti has made Mei wear makeup for some fancy ball or formal event or something. But she doesn't wear it on the regular (because ew, sensory issues)

Mei doesn't like how chubby she is, and how that shows along her neck and jawline/cheeks. She definitely has a skincare routine, and several special products made for her fur type. It's exhausting and she'd rather not (and sometimes gets too depressed to do it all) but it's important to keep her fur soft and shiny! She can't be pretty with a dull coat. I reckon she likes her eyes the most. They're the only thing she can't immediately find something wrong with, and nobody's told her to fix anything about them.

Sakura wasn't around a lot of mirrors before she met the turtles, so she doesn't think much about her face. She isn't usually in a position to see it, after all. She's conflicted about her freckles, because she's insecure about her bigger white patches (fingers, toes, her belly, hair, and the crescent on her neck) but they also look like stars against a night sky, which is one of her favorite views. Overall, it's not something she thinks about a lot.

Sakura would not wear makeup. She only has a vague idea of what it is, but she doesn't think about being pretty. It's not something that's important to her. She's too focused on getting her needs met, and then enjoying the new life the turtles offer. For at least the first month or two,

Donnie def made her use a bunch of skincare etc products, but that was mostly just to get her to a healthy point and make sure her skin and fur was properly moisturized and stuff. She probably wouldn't use them if she wasn't told to. At least, not to a large extent. She'd probably use lotion and like,,, bubble bath, because bubbles are fun