#but props to getting there first - dang it

[cuteteacakes]

I think I'm ready to start designing the staffs for the 100 Princes Yuuri and Viktor cosplay

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.   

Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.  

"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.  

"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.  

"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."  

"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.  

"So..."  

"Just go," she snips.  

You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.  

You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.  

You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.  

You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.  

"Dang it," you whisper.  

You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.   

"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"  

You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,   

that needs to be fixed too.  

You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.  

"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.

You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.   

"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.  

"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."  

You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."  

He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."  

You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.  

"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.  

You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.  

You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.  

"And your name? Neighbour?" 

You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out. 

“Is it just you over here?” He asks. 

You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy. 

“Oh, you got kids? A husband?” 

You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway. 

You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list. 

“Mom,” you say. 

“Ah, makes sense. You in school?” 

You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly. 

“Anyway...” he says. 

You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that. 

“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there. 

You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent. 

“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.” 

You huff and push the mower over. 

“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house. 

“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes. 

You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.” 

“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says. 

You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away. 

The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner. 

“You figure it out?” She asks. 

“No,” you flop onto the couch. 

“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.” 

“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.” 

“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers. 

You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is. 

🏠

Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind. 

As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil. 

You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’. 

You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you. 

You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair. 

“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat. 

“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.” 

“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.” 

“Oh, uh, okay.” 

You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin. 

“Hello?” She sweetens her tone. 

“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.” 

“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.” 

“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.” 

His smile is just as charming as his introduction. 

“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?” 

“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.” 

You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.  

“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.” 

[moltengoldveins]

@clingyduoapologist made a really cool “what if DSMP were a stage play” post and basically the instant I saw it I was struck by the muse but I don’t want to just chain reblog the dang thing or make one huge reblog with all my thoughts so instead here are all my thoughts on this concept

i don’t think it’s a musical. I think the tone of the story doesn’t fit. But if it were, it would have a Lot of scenes of unsung dialogue, and that dialoge? Would be rhythmic poetry. It’s Shakespeare Appreciation Time baby.

i do however think there would be a live score and an orchestra. A lot of the music would need to be recorded but there’s at least be a few musicians.

different characters speak in different poetic styles at different times to communicate character and plot development.

to elaborate on that: Characters switch from loose ABBA or ABAB rhyme schemes and vaguely rhythmic meter when chatting back and forth to strict perfect iambic pentameter for tense scenes or political speeches.

Techno speaks exclusively in unrhyming dactylic hexameter, an extremely common poetic form for Greek and Latin poetry. It’s what the Iliad was written in. This has the interesting effect of making Techno sound, at first glance, unpoetic. His speech doesn’t rhyme, and doesn’t follow a common English rhythm scheme, so it wouldn’t immediately register as structured. However, dactylic hexameter is actually significantly harder to write in English than expected because of our syllable stress patterns. Speaking like that would be, objectively, a sign of extreme intelligence, but could easily be overlooked as coarse uncultured behavior.

Techno’s chorus - composed of audience members, background extras, and people (in safety harnesses) sitting in the theater rafters - speak largely in Greek and Classical Chinese, quoting sections of the Art of War and Homer’s work. The major exceptions to this are ‘Blood for the Blood god,’ ‘no,’ and ‘do it.’ They all wear a hat or some form of headband that has a glowing LED eye, hidden, but activated when they speak. The audience plants are all in dark clothes, and when the lights go down they don medical masks/sunglasses. Anything to obscure their faces.

The Chorus, a group of robed masked people who broke the fourth wall and often entered the audience, was a vital part of early Greek theatre. I am an intolerable nerd, and the thought of sitting in a dark theatre only to hear an low distorted voice beside you start to comment on the play as a whole choir of voices echo around you, then turning to see your seat neighbor is a masked person with a glowing red eye in your forehead? Literally incredible.

Dream is the only character dressed in even remotely modern clothes.

Dream is first seen as someone (again, in modern clothes) sneaking around backstage in a black hoodie: most of the audience probably assumes he’s a stagehand and not meant to be seen. Then, at some point, he moves from behind a set piece and enters the scene as an actual character, revealing his mask.

interestingly, this is really similar to what I believe is a bit of myth about why ninjas are dressed in all black in modern media. They wouldn’t have been irl, they would’ve dressed like civilians. But stagehands in Japanese theatre would dress in all-black, and were often completely visible onstage moving sets - it was common courtesy to ignore them. Then one day some playwright had the brilliant idea of having one of the stagehands enter the story as an assassin, and suddenly every actor in all-black was a threat. For the life of me I can’t remember where I read that but it’s a cool thought :D

Dream canonically can interact with set pieces, lighting, and curtains.

Dream actively directs lighting in scenes he is not in, sitting above the stage kicking his feet.

Dream is often used to hand off props to characters instead of having them pull them from a pocket and pretend they were pulled from their ‘inventory.’ This begins to get confusing when Dream is acknowledged later on as the he person giving, say, TNT to Wilbur, or wither skulls to Techno.

characters address the audience as ‘Chat,’ (English’s first fourth-person pronoun my beloved) almost constantly, especially for comedic purposes- most of their monologues are addressed directly to the audience as well. For Wilbur, it’s a sign of instability when he stops addressing ‘Chat’ and start addressing the sides or back of the stage.

philza enters from the lower audience, right by the stage, probably after pooping up from the orchestra pit and taking a reserved seat halfway through so no one sees the wings.

Tommy has by far the least structured or rhyming dialogue - if it weren’t for how carefully crafted it was it would sound like normal prose.

Tommy speaks to the audience by FAR the most. Wilbur only addresses them when soliloquizing. Techno barely addresses them at all: they address him. Ranboo speaks to the audience only when alone, and it’s usually phrased like he’s writing in his memory journal. Tommy speaks to the audience at first like a loud younger brother. As he gets older, it sounds more and more like a plea for help, a prayer for intervention that will never come. Exile is one long string of desperate begging aimed our way.

Tommy stops speaking to the audience so much after Doomsday. He starts again when Dream is imprisoned. He stops for good when he dies in there, beaten, alone.

Sam and the Warden are meant to be played by different actors, ideally siblings or fraternal twins. They wear identical stage makeup and costumes, but the difference is there. None of the characters acknowledge this.

the Stage would need to be absolutely massive and curve almost halfway around the central audience, largely because it should be able to be split at times into two separate stages to show different things happening at the same time. This could possibly also work if there were two stages, but getting people to easily turn from one stage to the other without loosing sight of what was happening would be rough.

Doomsday taking advantage of the scaffolding in the rafters and using them as the ‘grid’ for the tnt droppers.

actual trained dogs for Doomsday my beloved. Would cost a fortune but could you imagine.

the entire revolution arc ripped off Hamilton, we all know that, I think we can afford to have a stagehand step forward in that frozen moment in time when Tommy and Dream have that duel, grab the arrow, and carry it slowly across the stage right into Tommy’s eye. For morale.

throughout the execution scene Techno keeps slipping out of poetic meter, especially when he sees/is worried about Phil. After the totem (which would be freaking amazing as some sort of stage effect with like lights and red and green streamers or smthn dude-) he stops speaking in poetry. The scene with Quackity is entirely spoken dialogue. Chat is silent. It’s only when he gets back and sees evidence that his house has been tampered with that Chat starts up again (kill, blood, death, hunt, hunt, hunt-) and he starts speaking in rhythm again.

Every canon death, Dream marks a tally on something in the background. Maybe it’s in his arm? Like a personal scorecard. Or maybe it’s on the person themselves, a little set of three hearts he marks through with a dry-erase marker or something.

phil and techno have a lot more eastern design elements and musical influences than the rest of the cast, except for Techno’s war theme which is just choir, bagpipes, and some sort of rhythmic ticking or thumping. Phil’s also got a choir sting but it’s a lot harsher, the ladies are higher and them men lower, and the chords are really dissonant (think murder of crows)

Tommy’s theme has a lot of drums, but its core is actually a piano melody. The inverse of Tommy’s theme is Tubbo’s, but Tubbo’s is usually played on a ukulele. Wilbur is guitar, obv, and Niki’s is on viola.

Quackity is a little saxophone lick. He and Schlatt both have a strong big band/jazz influence.

None of the instruments that play dream’s theme play anywhere else in the music. I’m thinking harp, music box, and some kind of low wind instrument.

[goosedoes-fics]

Missing

Spiderman Noir x Reader

Content warnings: alcohol mention, no use of y/n, first person (reader pov)

Notes: if you look closely you can see the exact moment that I lost all inspiration to actually finish this oneshot!! anyways yea I was gonna have it from Noir's POV but it would be harder for the reader to be gender neutral if that was the case

~~~~~

The young shamus' office was colder than a summer night in Antarctica. A single light dangled overhead, dimly illuminating the room just enough that the corners were pitch black, but everything else was a bit visible. I had heard tales of the hard-boiled gumshoe, the only private eye in New York to wear a mask. It was pretty dang smart, really. Protecting his identity and all that jazz.

His feet were propped up on his desk, clad in worn leather boots that seemed to have dirt caked in from his many adventures. His fedora covered where his eyes would have been, had he not been wearing a mask that already concealed them.

I took notice of the bottle of moonshine on his desk, picking it up and inspecting the label. "Bit ironic for a detective to be drinkin' hooch, ain't it?"

For a moment, I thought he wouldn't respond, as he didn't look up nor tilt up his hat, but he leaned forward slightly as he addressed me. "Don't blow your wig, pal. You can't convince me ya haven't stepped into a speakeasy a few times."

His retort earned a quiet laugh out of me as I placed the bottle back in its original spot.

The private investigator finally took his feet off the desk and looked up at me. I could only imagine his piercing gray eyes inspecting me. The thought somehow got me flustered, subtle heat rising to my cheeks.

"You got somethin' to say, or are you just gonna stand there gawkin'?" He eventually asked, snapping me out of my stupor.

He reached into a drawer on his desk and took out a cigar, lighting it and putting it up to the fabric of his mask where his mouth would be. "Usually people come in here for me to solve a mystery."

"Oh!" I laughed nervously. Had I been staring at him? Idiot. "Right. Yeah."

Reaching into my back pocket, I retrieved a small photograph, sliding it across the table like an 8 ball in a game of pool.

"My grandma." I tapped the photo. "Y'see the necklace? It's been in my family for decades. And today, it wasn't in the safe."

The detective's interest seemed piqued, at least from what little I could deduce from his body language. "Touched it lately?"

"Not since two months ago. It's only for VERY special occasions." I shrugged, taking a glance at the nameplate on his desk. "Mr. Noir... can you find it?"

The silence was thicker than 5 year old expired eggnog. Golly, how I wished I knew what he was thinking. The only thing I could decipher was a bit of curiosity from the slight tilt of his head.

I hadn't even realized I was holding my breath until I started getting dizzy.

Eventually, he spoke up. "The question ain't can I, toots. It's will I. And the answer is yes."

A small smile spread across my lips as he stood up, handing me back the photograph with a slight tilt of his head.

"Thank you, sir."

The apartment I lived in was quite small, and hardly luxurious. Despite our family heirloom being one of such high worth, we weren't a wealthy family. But I managed to get by. Even if it wasn't large, it was cozy.

"This is your place?" His body language betrayed no thoughts. It was really quite frustrating how little I could infer from him, with only his voice and movements to determine what he was feeling.

"...it's not much," I admitted carefully, "But I do like it."

"And you never thought to sell the necklace?"

"No, sir. It's too important to our family."

Noir hummed softly, inspecting the safe when I pointed it out. He dragged a gloved finger over the surface, a thin layer of dust now coating his fingertip like ash from a fireplace. The motion somehow made me nervous, as if he was convincing me I had something to hide.

Noir looked up at me after a moment's pause. "...Listen, if you can't pay, I can-"

"No." I cut him off. "I can pay. I wouldn't have hired you if I didn't set aside some money."

The vigilante didn't respond. He merely turned back to the safe, closing the door of it before standing up straight again. He looked down at me, and I could practically feel his eyes burning into me.

"...I can't take your money, darlin'."

Frustration boiled inside of me as I took a step forward. "Yes you can. I don't need pity, detective."

A small sigh could be heard through the fabric of Noir's mask. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from having an outburst.

In a swift, almost imperceptible movement, Noir took one of my hands in both of his. The investigator's huge gloved hands dwarfed my own. "You don't understand. I know what happened with yer necklace, I can't ask you to pay me for such a quick job."

It was hard for me to choke out any words. "But-"

"No buts."

"I have to pay you. This is your job," I protested.

Noir was quiet for a moment before cupping my face in his hands. I was aware of heat rising to my cheeks. If he noticed how flustered he was making me, he didn't say anything. "You really wanna pay? I'm not gonna bump gums with you about this."

I nodded stubbornly. Perhaps I didn't quite understand the implications of his words, because after lifting up his mask just above his nose, he kissed me square on the lips.

The light pink on my cheeks doubled, turning my face red as I slowly began kissing back. My mind clouded, halting any racing thoughts and focusing only on the gentleness of his lips.

When he finally pulled away, it felt too soon. I couldn't squeak out any words as he took a step back from me, tilting his hat by the brim with a small nod.

My mind was still in a bit of a daze when he started to leave. "By the way, darlin'." I looked up at him as he spoke to me. "Check the coffee table."

And sure enough, there was the necklace, hidden from view next to a stack of magazines.

[sleepingdeath-light]

yandere hcs ; poly welcome home ensemble

requested by ; cloud-kitties (18/05/23)

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; barnaby b beagle, eddie dear, frank frankly, howdy pillar, julie joyful, poppy partridge, sally starlet, wally darling

outline ; “Chuu~ Would ya maybe do headcannons for the whole neighborhood in a sort of yandere polycule for the neighbor?

No infighting just a whole agreement of “neighbor is the most. We keep.” Snuggle party ftw maybe some conniving °v°

I love them all so dang much.”

note ; little bit unsure of this piece since it’s more focused on the ensemble as a whole rather than individual characters, so characterisation might be mildly shaky where it does appear

warning(s) ; yandere!ensemble, mostly fluff, possessiveness, obsessiveness

the neighbourhood had always been especially close, after all they only had each other to rely on so it made sense to at least try and all get along, but something shifted when you moved in — and they became that much more tight knit because of it

you were a fresh face around town: a new customer at the bugdega who always greeted howdy with a smile so bright it hurt his eyes just to look, a new set of waving hands that stopped eddie on his morning rounds as you sheepishly gave him a card to pass on (so apologetic that he simply couldn’t say no), a new muse for wally to paint out in his garden as you leaned dangerously out of your bedroom window to help guide sally on where to place her new (startlingly large) props, a new voice to laugh and groan and react to barnaby’s jokes (your enjoyment and amusement so addictively palpable that he found himself thinking about it as he drifted off to sleep), a new pair of eyes for julie to stroll and pose in front of to show off her new outfits and hairstyles (flustering and glowing under your earnest encouragement and biting her tongue to hold herself back from tackling you into a tight embrace), a new pair of hands to help frank catch that butterfly he’s been trying to get for days now (and succeeding effortlessly in your first try, earning his muted awe as you celebrated and handed over your prize to him), a new mouth for poppy to feed with her latest treats (and who never hesitated to praise her cooking until her feathers were all awry and her head was hidden in her wings, all while insisting you were only stating the truth)

you were everything and yet you presented yourself so humbly — a true enigma for the neighbours to discuss as their fondness for you grew more intense, more consuming, more concerning (though, of course, none of them could see it for what it was through the puppy-love-esque haze that had overtaken their rational minds)

it was a shared obsession, the subject of every whisper and remark and check-out chat whenever they saw each other — voices lilting with adoration but carrying an air of casualness that might just be unsettling if they weren’t so genuine about it all

they memorise your schedule off by heart and arrange amongst themselves who will be where so that you’re never left alone (that’s such a terrible thought, they never want you to feel neglected) — alternating throughout the week so that howdy and eddie also get their time with you outside of their work schedules

as a collective they’re all incredibly friendly towards you, always greeting you with kindness and offering help with any and everything you do even if you don’t ask for it — leaping at any opportunity to spend time with you or to gain your favour in one way or another

they also never try and force any sort of affection or relationship onto you, content just to have you with them and not feeling the urge to push anything further unless you express that interest (and after very thorough private discussions amongst themselves)

that being said if you wanted to enter a romantic relationship with the ensemble then they’d all be up for it — accepting before you could even complete your sentence (but good luck ever leaving that relationship)

you’re spoiled rotten by your neighbours — kept with good company, given first pickings of every meal and dessert poppy makes, sent countless unsigned letters complimenting everything about you in earnest, offered painting after painting of yourself and your favourite things, spoiled with laughter and entertainment, gifted the newest clothes, and offered discounts and freebies with everything you buy

(and your birthdays are even more extreme, practically turned into holidays and celebrated for well over a week as your neighbours make it the best they can)

but this overwhelming kindness and affection is met with an overwhelming, underlying possessiveness that bubbles up to the surface every time you try to leave the neighbourhood — they just love you so much that they can’t just let you go so easily

they make excuses, cut the phones, block the roads and feign illness after injury — anything they can to keep you at home without causing you any harm themselves (they love you too much to hurt you, you know), and if all else fails then home will step in and… well… nobody wants that to happen

it would be so very difficult for anyone but wally to see you then and that would be so terribly unfair, don’t you think?

so they try and make do as best they can, keeping you entertained and well fed and well spoiled with everything you could possibly need or want — doing everything in their power to keep you content enough that you don’t ever feel the need to leave them

they have everything you need, why would you ever look elsewhere? — with sally and barnaby by your side you’re kept well-entertained, with frank and julie you’re kept active and in good hands as you explore the nearby woodlands, between howdy and poppy you’re never left hungry or craving the things you love, and wally and eddie are more than happy to help you explore your creative side (and home is a wonderful host as well)

they will be whatever you need them to be, whatever you want them to be, clinging to every smile and laugh and look you give them and showering you with all they have to offer — because you really are the absolute most

and they won’t let you go

[dead-enby-detective]

I love the Dead Boy Detectives show so I decided to watch the Doom Patrol episode: Dead Patrol which includes their version of the DBD Agency because I was curious about the different portrayals.

(This is a long post, I’m sorry, I have a lot of thoughts 💭)

First- gotta say, it’s wild that Ruth Connell plays both versions of the Night Nurse (when I heard her voice in the Doom Patrol episode I was like !!!) when they are SO gosh darn different.

In DBD she still feels like a person. We, as the audience, know she’s in the wrong about the boys but we can also see her point of view. If the show continues I’m excited to see where they take her character.

In Doom Patrol… she’s just creepy AF! I mean she’s a horror movie monster whose face splits apart and turns people into zombies by throwing up on them like WTH? I’m good with not seeing her again, no matter how well Ruth plays her lol.

Anyways props to Ruth fr because dang, she’s got RANGE.

Speaking of the Night Nurse-

It’s interesting to see the different reactions the boys have in the Doom Patrol episode to her compared to in the show.

Firstly, in Doom Patrol they already know her versus in DBD we see them meet her for the first time.

In Doom Patrol they’re kind of chill about it, like this is an enemy they have to deal with now and again, nbd versus in DBD it’s a new threat they don’t know how to handle. It feels like there’s far more weight in DBD to their interaction, in my opinion.

But I think the understanding versus uncertainty of her also impacts their overall reactions to the threat of her.

Both Charles’ react to one) protect Edwin and two) get the Night Nurse to get the heck away from them.

While trying to get the Night Nurse away DP Charles hits her with a bat and DBD Charles with the lullaby machine and then DP Charles throws a grenade and DBD Charles kicks her into a giant fish’s mouth.

Now obviously: different actors, writers, universe, 8 episodes versus 1 but it’s interesting to note that the Doom Patrol boys are much less reactive to their own/each other’s violence.

DP Edwin doesn’t react much to DP Charles hitting the Night Nurse and then throwing an explosive at her, DBD Edwin however is devastated by DBD Charles’s intense reaction to the Night Nurse trying to take them away/separate them:

DP Edwin doesn’t really say anything about it just kind of tells her off and DBD Edwin tells Charles his reaction was extreme.

Then in the aftermath DP Charles just walks (runs) away from the situation, seemingly fine with the whole thing while DBD Charles breaks down after the whole affair

Like DBD Charles is wreck by the whole thing.

Again I’m fully aware that having eight episodes dedicated to these characters stories compared to about half of one dedicated to them allows for very different stories but I think it’s neat how different their reactions to violence, their violence are.

Throughout the DBD show the phrase “a good detective does what they must to solve the case” but really, they have instances where they could have used violence to solve or speed up their case work and they actively chose not to, because they truly don’t want to. Charles does, even before this, have moments of violence but it’s clear it’s something that hurts him and it’s not usually his first reaction. They tend to try to avoid being violent if they can.

Compared to the DP dead boys, it feels almost like a means to an end for them. It doesn’t feel like they of out of their way to be violent but also like they’re less likely to avoid it overall. And it doesn’t impact them the same way.

I just think it’s neat how vastly different two portrayals of the same characters can be especially with such core traits.

They’re the same characters, different fonts and it’s so fun to compare and contrast.

—————

I have more thoughts but this post is getting pretty long so I think I’ll make another post/posts about em later.

[woneuntonzz]

ᯓ★ 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭 .ᐟ

📀 ; who's invited to the wedding?

ot7-boyfriend!riize x afab!reader (“𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝” 𝐓𝐢𝐤𝐓𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐈𝐈𝐙𝐄)

contains: fluff, fluff, fluff, cussing, (slight) suggestive tones

- - - - - - - - - - - more under the cut .ᐟ - - - - - - - - - - -

shotaro — “you know my weakness is you.”

You got your phone set up on the tripod in your car as you waited for your boyfriend to finally get in. Seeing his dear little face through the passenger seat window, you’d smile.  knock… knock… you roll down the window to the passenger seat to be met with your boyfriend’s query, “Hi lovely, you’re driving?” “Yes hubby, get in.” As he got in, you would think he didn’t catch what you had just called him, but when you’d finally face him, he’d immediately leave a kiss on your lips. “I missed you, wifey.” You tried playing it off, trying to sound seemingly confused as you replied, “I missed you too, but, wifey?” “Do you not like it? you just called me hubby?” and he would pout ever so slightly. Dang it. Your prank was slowly losing its initiative, why was he being so adorable? eyes shimmering and reflecting the light that bounced off the mirrors of your car, almost as if looking up at you and pleading for an answer.  “I just wanted to try out a TikTok trend…” you’d spew in defeat. “Getting married is a trend on TikTok now?” it was hard to tell whether he was being sarcastic or not, but his voice was three octaves higher.  “We’re not…” well maybe not now. —you thought, but you’d only grow weaker upon seeing the frown on his face. And very faintly, he’d repeat your words in a question. “We’re not?...” “Taro…” “Y/n…” with a warm, gentle grasp on your hand, “Will you marry me?” Your evening would end somewhere dim and cold, where the only warmth you could secure is from each other’s touch, and each other’s voice, and his little giggles when he continued to tease you about it.  “Got tired of baby so you wanted to call me hubby already?” he’d coo on you, pinching one of your flushed cheeks. “You’re so cute, my wifey.” Whatever your answer was, the camera did not catch it —props to you for forgetting to hit the record button.

eunseok — “black shadow is married, it's canon.”

His eyes displayed skepticism, yet he wore a smirk. You had set up your front camera in front of you both, seated next to each other on the floor in front of the coffee table. He watched your sheepish smile grow wider when you had settled yourself next to him after hitting record. “What’s that for?” he’d ask, almost in a laugh.  “So I’ve been seeing this little trend on TikTok…” you’d look at him for a short while to see his reaction. “Okay Miss-chronically-online.” he tittered at your glaring eyes, despite your attempts to look intimidating, he only found you cute. “I was kidding, go on love.” “So as I was saying—” you’d look into the camera, “So my husband is here to tell us about the things he found interesting about me.” You’d see his widened eyes, lips forming a bashful and downturned smile.  “So Seok, go tell them.” After a long blink and a deep inhale, he would look right into the camera, “Well, first of all, I think you in your wedding dress would be quite interesting.” And for a minute you —almost— forgot this was supposed to be a prank. “What do you mean?” you laughed at him. “I’m your husband.”  Say that again, please. —you’d think to yourself. “Seok, it was an accident!” a sweet and soft giggle leaves your mouth, “Okay, okay, for real now, tell them what got you interested in me.” He might’ve looked crazy in the eyes of the unknowing, but he was too in love to even care. Chuckling to himself, he’d repeat the words he’d want to hear everyday for the rest of his life, and only from you, “Husband…”

sungchan — “babies don't come from the sky.”

Off the bat, he’d find it incredibly amusing that you’d ask him to film a TikTok with you. He’d had his few every-other-day scrolls on the app, but this time he wasn’t quite sure of what you were bringing him in for.  “Sit down, Chan, I'm gonna hit record.” you spoke to his tall figure that stood in front of you at the foot end of your bed.  “What are we doing?” he very innocently questions.  “We’re gonna unbox something, now sit your ass down.” you looked up at him, and soon with a sulking face as you pleaded, “Please? we’ll be quick, then we could do the thing you wanted to try.” He immediately got himself seated next to you on the soft mattress. “Alright, let’s go!” You chuckle, taking out a box of something —something you didn’t put much thought into, anyways, it would only serve as a disguise for the actual purpose of the rolling camera.  “Can I open it?” you nod at his question.  But then you’d abruptly stop him. “Oh, wait! show it to the camera.” He’d hesitantly —and quite sheepishly— bring himself, then the box closer to the camera, giving it a little 360 of the box. “So what my husband is holding right there is the very exclusive—” “Are you pregnant?” “What?” you were visibly taken aback by his ‘question’, in hindsight it could be funny, but it would send anyone to shock, quite possibly a coma —you thought. “I am not Mister!” “Oh. Then. Why. Husband.” you pressed your lips together, suppressing a laugh. “Ah, I see how it is… you’re tryna get me to give you a baby.” “Jung Sungchan?” “The bed’s right here babe.” “You are vile.”

wonbin — “make-up or make love?”

“Please Binnie, I’m gonna make you look so pretty, I promise!”  It’s been a good ten minutes of you pleading with your beautiful boyfriend to film a make-over TikTok, with a hidden motive of course. He’d finally give up after your seventy-eighth please. “Fine, just 'cause I owe you one.” he’d utter, letting out a beaten exhale. You’d have him sitting right in front of your phone, like a vanity. Well, while make-up would usually come easy, it would only be difficult when he’d keep his eyes on yours that were so concentrated on making sure you were in fact making him look like a pretty little princess —if he already wasn’t one—  and if you suddenly shift forward and the shorter strands of your hair fall at the sides of your face, his finger would glide against the skin on your face, tucking the hair behind your ear.  “Wonbin.” “Why baby?” “You’re distracting me.” He’d let out a cocky laugh. “Really?” You made sure you’d finish his make up soon, so you could finally proceed with your plan. With your brush softly sweeping against his cheek for the last time, you’d put your stuff aside, hitting the record button for the final time.  “So here’s the final product, as you can see, my husband is looking really pretty, right?” your eyes would avert from your phone to your boyfriend. “What do you think baby?” Not so cocky now huh? —a smirk would spread across your lips as you eyed his rosy face. A smile was threatening to crack out of him, but out of utter bewilderment, he’d gulp and stutter, “W-wait, did you just— husband? me?” “Oh, that? sorry baby, I meant to say boyfriend, my bad, let’s restart—” “No, no. Keep that.” He’d reach out for your hand, his soft, pinkish and glossed lips making contact with its back side. “Post it —but you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve bought the ring, give it twenty-four hours.”

seunghan — “i'm the no. 1 trendsetter.”

The excitement that rushed through him when you had gently pushed on his shoulder to ask him, “Hey babe, I want to try this couple’s trend I saw on TikTok.” cannot even be wholly expressed with words.  “What trend? Are we filming right now? Wait, do I look okay? Where do you want me babe?” —his questions fired at you like he was chasing the ticks of your wall clock.  You found this action of his really precious, causing a short chuckle to fall off your lips. “Calm down Han, just settle yourself there —right there against the headboard.” he’d promptly push his back against the headboard, eyes following your figure as you set up the camera against one of your bigger plushies. “Wait, which trend is this?” He was curious as to why you hadn't shown him a video of the trend you were talking about for reference, or why you didn’t seem to have an audio picked out and ready.  “Let’s take turns saying what we love about each other —but, we have to act like we don’t see each other, act like I'm not here.” you tilted your head at him, and he’d shyly cover his smile with his hand, palm faced towards you. “You go first.” You quickly hit the record button, backing away as soon as it started recording. He’d hesitate for a while, fishing for your assuring gaze before turning back to the camera.  “The things I love about my girlfriend Y/n? there’s a lot. Now that I'm being questioned on the spot, it’s quite hard to list everything. Honestly, I love Y/n’s everything, her smile, her eyes, her skin, her hair, the way she’d always remind me to never forget this and that —and if you’re gonna ask why, well, I just do. I really don’t know how to explain it with words only—” A kiss would interrupt his very passionate statement, you were both admittedly very hot in the face. “Oh-kay, my turn.” you moved yourself a bit so the camera could get a decent view of you as you spoke. You cleared your throat before you spoke, “The things I love about my husband can be—”

“Huh?”

“Huh? what?” You watched his eyes dilate as soon as those words left your mouth. The look on his face was quite… concerning.  “Seunghan?” “We need to start over, let me go again.” “Wait Han, why?” “Since we’re changing labels here, might as well just call you my wife too, right?”

sohee — “nara smith who? i only know y/n.”

Sohee was quietly settled on the couch, patiently waiting for you to get finished with the very important matter you had to deal with in the kitchen. You told him to just wait there, that by the end of it, you’ll give him something worth his while. He’d turn around, still seated on the couch, peaking at you moving around in the kitchen. He’d immediately catch the tripod you were setting up and asked, “Are you taking a video?” You’d glance behind you for a brief moment, humming a reply, “Mm-hmm~” “Oh, okay, good luck!” you’d chuckle to yourself hearing his cheery spur, such a lovely voice he had.  Though, for the following moments, you’d make sure your voice filled the confines of your place, and the only sound his ears would take in. You cleared your throat so that you would be able to project your voice.  “Today I feel extra happy, so I’ll be making my husband his favorite for dinner.” Your what now? —he’d perk up from the couch, and seriously contemplate on whether he should just get up and jump you in your kitchen, give you a million kisses and hug you till his arms weren’t able to lock you in anymore.  You continued, thinking he might’ve not heard, so you planned on saying it again, but then suddenly you’d feel some weight on your shoulder.  “I hope I’ll be the only one to hear that from you.” his hot breath fanned against your ear as he whispered, laying his chin on your shoulder.  “Hear what baby?”  “Husband —I wouldn’t marry you till, like, we’re ready, but I hope I’m the one. I love you.” 

anton — “i'm in my food critic era.”

He was quite surprised to see you playfully prancing at him with a bag full of foreign snacks you ordered online. When you’d propose to him to accompany you to try some, of course he’d oblige, who’d pass on some good food? “Where’d you get this from?” he asks as he looks through the plastic bag.  “Online, my mom took the box and a few snacks, but we have all of these left to try.” his fond eyes gleamed at the way your hands did speedy little claps. “Tony, can I film us trying it?” “You mean, like a food review?” you’d briskly nod at him, and suddenly he cups your face. “Okay love, let’s do it now.” You set up your phone, settling it against Anton’s water bottle. You take out all the snacks, laying them down neatly enough that it doesn’t look too disarrayed despite not being organized at all.  You hit record, and you’d wear a very dear tone with your voice, “I ordered snacks from several parts of the world —and today, with me is my husband, Anton.” you’d spare him a glance, but waa just frozen in his spot. “Say hi, Tony.” “Oh-uh, well, hi. I’m. Gonna —get married?” watching his anxious self, you couldn’t help but almost guffaw, but before it could burst out of you, you’d hug him.  “Tony, why’d you say that?” he’d look at you as if you commited a felony.  “You called me husband?” “Did I?”  He shook his head, very steadily and very slowly, a clear depiction of how disappointed he was. “I can’t believe you’d gaslight your husband.” It was painful to keep up with the act, but you’d playfully roll your eyes at him, talking to the camera once more, “Well, anyways, let’s try the first snack here…” Your silence was concerning at most, the sounds of the food’s packaging being ripped open pierced his ear as if it were the most eery of sounds.  “You really didn’t mean it?” you held up the act of perplexity as you laid your eyes at him.  “What’s ‘it’ Tony?” The light in his eyes would dim, and you would immediately take notice of it. A sense of guilt would wash over you at the sight of him, till you could no longer keep it up. “It was supposed to be a prank—” He’d cut your explanation short with a comical gasp, “I knew it.” “Of course you did.” —you lost, and so you’d reach for your phone to stop the recording.  “Hold on, we haven’t even tried any of the snacks.”  “We weren’t really meant to, I just used it as an excuse for the prank…”  “And? keep it rolling love." His soft urging was enough for you to set the phone back up again. “Oh, we’d have to restart the recording…” “That’s okay. Let’s do it again. Prank me again.” Call me your husband again. —you would never really hear his thoughts, but he hoped that his words were enough to tell you that he was a big fan of your ‘prank’, though to him, it would never be a prank, but perhaps something else.

something fluffy to combat my next angst fic :>

[natalieironside]

"Secret Window, Secret Garden 2: The Revenge, by John Shooter" by Natalie Ironside

One morning Natalie H. Ironside awoke in her bed to discover she'd been transformed into a young Johnny Depp. "Dang," she said, shaking her head in consternation, "what a raw deal. This ain't what I need right now."

She'd only just begun to process this new development when there came a knock at the door. She opened it to discover an angry man who otherwise looked normal and unremarkable, holding a rolled-up typescript. He'd arrived in a car with Mississippi plates, which struck her as out of the ordinary because, as everyone knows, the state of Mississippi does not require front license plates. Being transformed into a young Johnny Depp overnight had not struck her as odd because, like a vagrant in a C.S. Lewis book, this was hardly her first rum do.

"You stole my story," the angry man said.

"Well, damn," Natalie replied, "that sucks if it's true. What makes you say that?"

They talked for a while, and it was clear the stranger meant well but had a fundamental misunderstanding of US copyright law. "I see what the problem is," Natalie said. "Come inside and we can have some like coffee or whatever and talk it out."

Disarmed, the stranger agreed. He handed her his typescript and said, "My manuscript--"

"Typescript," Natalie corrected. Then, contritely, she added, "Sorry. It just kinda bugs me when people refer to typescripts as manuscripts."

The stranger didn't know how to reply to that. "Just . . . just read it," he said.

After a cursory glance at the first page, she looked up in bemusement and said, "Well, I didn't write this at all. Stephen King did."

The man took back the typescript, muttering something about bringing the wrong paperwork and how he was gonna get in big trouble with the Weez for this one. Seeming at a loss for words without his intended prop, he said, "Listen, I, uh . . . I'm you. I'm like a manifestation of all the rage and resentment you keep bottled up."

"I, like, don't, though," she insisted. "I mean, I do, but not like that guy in the story did. Being open about the darker parts of our personalities is kind of a whole thing with me."

"Yeah, and that's why I'm here talking to you like this instead of going through all that rigamarole. What did you think of the story, anyways?"

"It's one of King's weaker works, if I'm being honest. It woulda made a great short story, but stretching it out into 5 hours just feels like a half-asseded sequel to The Dark Half. Plus DID and schizophrenia don't work anything like that--or, well, this--and that's always been a bit of a bent beam with the guy."

"Yeah," said the man. "Listen, can you just, like, write a story and put my name on it? I know you don't have to, but it would really mean a lot to me, and it'll get me out of your hair."

"Sure thing, man," she replied.

The end.

[llamaisllama777]

TSAMS EPISODE analyzation: Solar is back

Hey, this is a new thing I'm gonna do on here where I analyze and theorize on things that happen in TSBSCU (The Security Breach Show Cinematic Universe). Today's episode: Solar is back.

🎶Guess who's ba... you get it. Solar's back.

Our favorite techie is back and...

He looks just like how he does in thumbnails! 😲 I'm so stinkin' happy! He looks so good! I thought this would translate well in vrchat, BUT I DIDN'T EXPECT IT TO LOOK THIS GOOD! Like dang! Props to the modelers and @ayyy-imma-ninja this looks so good! I always did love her designs for Solar. So, Solar wakes up and is obviously confused. One minute, he's home with Sun and Moon getting Thanos-ed by Ruin, and now he's in some strange lab he's never seen before. Thankfully, Solar is a smart guy and decides to try the computer and calls Moon. Now, if I was in Solar's place, I wouldn't be so smart, and I probably would panic and do something dumb like walk out onto the surface of the sun 🙃 Moon comes and picks up Solar and tells him "Oh ya the Moon you knew turned evil and tried to kill our sister also I'm not the Moon you knew, I'm the Moon you use to know."

Moon, give him a minute! He was literally only alive for 2:39 seconds. Moon give him a breather first! Anyways, Solar obviously doesn't believe him cause. Why would anyone believe that someone they've known for so long just went nuts and tried to kill his sister and has been replaced by his oldself.

Moon takes Solar home. Solar reunites with Sun and Jack. Jack yells the loudest, "FATHER!" He can and then runs to him like a golden retriever, and that is so STINKIN' CUTE!

HAPPY FAMILY REUNITED!

Okay, anyways past how cute this is.

Sun breaks it to Solar that...ya.. Moon went bonkers and now goes by Nexus and to kill Earth, and of course Solar doesn't take it well. The Moon he knew. The Moon, who was his friend. The Moon, who was his brother. Turned evil and tried to kill Solar's sister... ya. He's gonna need a few days to recover from that.

Lunar and Earth are gonna be SO HAPPY when they find out Solar's back.

Now, before I get to the theorizing, let's take a look at Solar's new design and some clever design decisions in Solar's design.

Face is now more expressive, and he isn't stuck with a permanent grin, which I didn't have a problem with, but I like how expressive his face is now.

He's got some SKINNY ARMS! Eclipse made him so skinny and I find that hilarious.

There is now a metal plate over where the wires are on the back of Solar's head. Clever! Now, if Solar ever gets into a fight, no one can pull any of the wires on the back of his head for an advantage, which is a major design flaw in Sun and Moon, the robots meant to be around literal children who like to poke and pull everything they touch. Seriously, what stops someone from yanking the wires on the back of their heads and defeating them instantly. Moon pulled one of the plugs on Ruin's head to turn off Ruin's vision, so this was a smart design choice by Eclipse and the modelers and @ayyy-imma-ninja

I guess Eclipse sewed Solar some new pants and ran out of felt. I don't care if that's not what happened. This is what I think happened. THIS IS MY HEADCANON NOW!

Lastly, Eclipse gave him socks, and we all know why AS A FORM OF TORTURE cause everyone knows wet socks are a form of torture. That is my headcanon on why he gave him socks. (That does sound like something he would do just to spite Solar)

And lastly

He sit. I love the body movements on Solar, like the little point he does at his feet is just wonderful I don't know why but I love the little movements they do in this show like Earth's little 👉👈 she does. I love it. It's tiny details like this that makes the show feel more real. You know?

And now on to the theorizing.

Here's what I think will happen next on with Solar's character on TSAMS.

We will inevitably get a Solar confronts Nexus in vrchat episode.

So, I have three ideas on what will happen next

Idea #1 Solar decides to see for himself despite everyones warning and finds away to meet uo Nexus either physically or with holograms of something point is Solar will confront Nexus, and they get it to an argument about what Moon did and Solar will be desperately trying to reason with his brother, asking him to come back and maybe they can fix this whole mess but Nexus will refuse and Solar will leave heartbroken and will tell Nexus as he leaves. "I'm so disappointed in you." To which Nexus will probably have a mental breakdown and may start to regret what he did.

Idea #2 Solar confronts Nexus they get into a whole argument about what Nexus did they fight and as Solar is about to leave Nexus captures Solar and is gonna keep him captive and either use him as bait for Sun and Moon or keep him hostage until he sees things Nexus' way.

Idea #3 they get into a fight, and Nexus, in a fit of rage, kills Solar. <- This is the least likely idea.

Idea #4 Solar decides to stay with Nexus. Not to help him with anything, no. But to keep an eye on him. Make sure Nexus won't hurt the family in any way and maybe to save Nexus from himself. Basically, solar becomes Nexus' Jiminy Cricket, trying to sway Nexus from the side of evil and it may lead to a similar thing to idea #1 or #3

Now, onto the biggest question we still have...

How does Solar being back benefit Dark Sun?

I thought Solar wouldn't actually come back, that the machine would malfunction and release a ton of negative starpower into the world, which would make the Astrals come to earth faster. But instead it actually worked! Solar is back but now how does this help Dark Sun?

Theory #1 Solar coming back will force Nexus deeper into this dark life cause Solar will reject what his brother has become and abandon him and that will cause Nexus to become even worse and go full villain if he wasn't already before.

Theory #2 Solar being back will force Sun out of the family spotlight. Allow me to explain. Solar will have everyone's attention for a while and Sun will probably feel left out cause Earth and Lunar will be spending all their time with him, Jack will want to spend time with Solar now too and he may take Dazzle with him so she can properly meet Solar and Sun will start to feel like he's losing everyone and that all he will have is Moon cause eventually they will all move on. Lunar may die or become a god and have to leave them all, Earth has her own life and stuff she probably wants to do. Maybe she'll start her own daycare away from Fazbear or something, and Dazzle may even "move on" one day leaving just Sun and Moon and I think Solar being back will cause Sun to start having those fears that one day everyone will leave him. Now, I'm not saying Sun doesn't want to be with his brother, but we all know Sun is still dealing with all the trauma Moon inflicted on him and we know one day something or someone will cause Moon to slip and do something that hurts Sun physically or emotionally and this may push Sun into the grasp of Dark Sun. I think whatever Dark Sun is planning involves pushing Sun away from his family and maybe turning Sun into second Dark Sun. Solar may be the catalyst for Sun abandoning his family, like how his death led to Nexus abandoning the family. Hopefully, though, this part of the plan will fail, but seeing as how Dark Sun's plan has been working pretty well so far, I think this part might actually happen.

I hope you all liked this and the theories I came up with. Let me know what you all think.

[linkedspirit-fanartfunart]

This is the most useless random writing bit but it was an idea and I had to do it. Gosh why are there so many characters though. XD

Link's Favorite Item

-

The group of Links had settled for the night, settled by a fire. Smith prodded it occasionally, ensuring it stayed bright and fed. Glider sat beside it, eyes halfway to glazing over as they watched the flickering flames. Sky seemed halfway to dozing off while Wind and Forest had started some sort of silent face making contest. While Ordon and the Spirit had left to walk around the campsite.

Rinku was working on a device of some sort, ratcheting pieces of metal together with furrowed brows. The Engineer was watching intently, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Rinku ignored him in favor of her focus on the work.

"Say..." Hope started as he propped himself against Rinku's back. She glanced up momentarily to glare forward. Sky stifled a laugh. "What's everyone's favorite tools of the trade?" He asked, grinning. "I'll go first. Best thing to exist is the Magical Sword."

"That's boring, anything other than a sword or shield!" chimed Wind, hands moving sharp and quick.

Hope stuck his tounge out at him and he laughed. She sighed, thinking for a moment longer, "The Clock, then. ...man I miss the clocks."

Forest tilted his head, squinting, "Why are clocks important for you?"

"Oh, they stopped time for a bit. I could just do whatever until moving on. It was nice."

"Where did you get THAT?" Forest demanded.

"Monsters dropped em" Hope shrugged, "OK Rinku's turn." Forest gaped at the redirection, clearly still wanting to interrogate him about the time stopping clocks.

Rinku huffed, "Too many and too many different reasons for them to decide."

"Oh come onnnnn," Hope whined, "Pick the first one that comes to mind!"

She glanced down at what she was working on and raised the half done device. "Switch Hook."

"Oh!" The Engineer gasped, "That sounds cool."

"What's a switch hook do?" Sky asked, leaning to look.

"You switch places with what you shoot with the hook." She shrugged, "I lost my old one. I'm trying to make a new one..."

"Absolutely incredible, you must be brilliant" Hope cheered, leaning his face close to hers. Rinku's face flushed, and she shoved a hand in his face making him squawk.

Engie giggled and spoke up, "Can I count my train?"

"HA, if I can't pick my sword, you can't pick your train. We all know you're the train kid."

Engie sighed, pouting as he thought some more.

"Hyoi Pear!!" Wind offered with a grin. He signed, "I can use them to control seagulls."

Rinku snapped her attention to him with wide eyes, "Excuse me?"

"That's my thing." Hope complained lightly.

"The seagulls don't mind it too much. They're mostly there for the free food." Wind said, "Plus, who wouldn't wanna fly around like a bird."

Sky nodded sagely, and Smith shook their head quickly.

"Okay, okay, I've got it." Engineer announced, "The whip!"

Several heads turned toward Engineer with varying levels of surprise and confusion.

"...What?" He muttered awkwardly, "It's a good multi-use tool. I could attach it to wood bars some birds would hold to, and it'd fly me around. Wind's thing reminded me of it."

"Ohhhh" whispered Glider.

"I expected some sort of high-tech future gadget..." mumbled Forest with a slight pout.

"I'm the one with those." Glider said with a laugh, "My favorite is the slate. Of course."

"Yeah, you're so obsessed with the thing you won't let anybody else touch it." Rinku mumbled.

"It's important and I don't need anybody messing with the settings." They huffed.

"Favorite part of the slate then." Forest demanded, smiling.

Glider hummed, leaning backward and looking at the sky. "Bombs." He concluded.

"Bombs? Dang it! I should've gone with bombs." Hope complained.

"Endless bombs."

"You can't be serious." Smith said.

"No way!" Forest shouted.

"Oh come, on why is all your stuff so cool." Engineer grumbled.

"On Hylia, how-?" Sky whispered.

"Who’s helping me steal that thing?" Wind laughed.

Rinku shook her head, though she gave a very inquisitive look at the slate.

Glider laughed, "Still not letting any of you touch it."

"Well, excuseee us for being interested in the most interesting thing you have."

"What about you, Sky? You mentioned that your time had ancient tech, too." Glider deflected.

"Oh! Er. Well there's the Beetle."

"A bug?" Smith asked, raising a brow.

"It's like a flying machine?" He scratched his head, and gestured to show its size, "it's shaped like a beetle and it gives me a view of what it sees and can pick things up."

"Now I want to see it," Glider said with a light pout.

"Can we?" Rinku asked, tilting her head.

"I don't have it with me... I would've if I knew I was going to wind up traveling across- well. Everywhere." Sky chuckled, shrugging.

"Well, I like the Pegasus boots." Smith offered, stomping on the ground twice to showcase the boots he was wearing.

"Oh those are useful," Rinku said with a nod.

"Or- well actually maybe the fire rod..." He mumbled, eyes flickering red. Va shook his head, frowning, eyes turning green, "Actually, the roc cape was really useful... fighting a wind mage and all..... or no! No," blue overtook green with a gesture of his fist, "The power bracelet!"

"OH just pick one!" Hope huffed. Rinku reached up to flick his ear. Hope squeaked, finally leaning up off her.

"They were all useful for different things!" Smith complained, sighing. "Hmm. I guess my favorite thing as a kid was the Kinstones."

"What are those?" Forest asked.

"They're magic tokens that you could match with people, and lucky things would happen.... they were a bit of a fad," Smith said with a shrug.

"Ohhhh that sounds fun." Engie mumbled. "I like matching games."

"What about matching games?" Ordon's voice picked up. Hero's Spirit followed after and settled to float beside Sky, tilting their head.

"Hope asked us what our favorite items were." Sky explained.

"Smith got magic stones to match with other people in his time!" Engineer said.

"Oh! Sounds interesting."

"What's your favorite?" asked Forest.

"Oh, hm." Ordon muttered, brows pinched "Fishing rod?" He offered tentatively.

"What?" Hope spat, "I know you're a fluffy farm dog, but at least pick something worthy of adventuring with!"

"Fishing is just fine of a thing to like," Rinku defended with a light glare back at Hope.

"Oh no I can think of something more adventurous," Ordon mumbled, "eh....the Dominion Rod was fun?"

"What does it do?" Wind asked.

"Let me control certain statues. Mostly just walk em around." He said, "not the most generalizable tool, but fun."

"You are. So boring." Hope muttered.

"Y'all are welcome." Ordon said with a smile.

The group giggled.

"I think other than the Spirit, the only one who hasn't answered now is Forest."

"Oh! Oh..." Forest frowned, pensive as he considered. "Well."

"No pressure, really," Sky said with a light smile.

Forest crossed his arms, "No, I know it. It's the Ocarina." He said eventually. "It is the single most important tool throughout the entire time I've traveled."

Hero glanced at him, their face changing to look like Forest, then an older version of him. Then they flickered to look like a much younger Smith, and a small pink haired Rinku, and back to their self. "Ocarinas tend to be important, don't they?"

"Why do you say that?" Engineer asked, glancing at Smith and Rinku.

"Oh, they just. Keep coming up in my head." They shifted to look like Engineer, clad in green, then Sky and eventually Hope, small and pensive, "Musical instruments in general, really."

A small quiet pause settled through the space. Hope, the usual one to interrupt silence, stared at the echo of his smaller self.

"Huh." Glider eventually huffed, just to fill the space. "Actually, Hero, what about you? Out of all the things you can recall, what's your favorite item?"

The Hero shook their head to clear their mind, shifting back to normal. "Oh boy. I don't really know I- ....wait. Why did so many of you have boomerangs? They're not even useful half the time."

A flurry of noise broke out at once. Rinku snorted. Hope flailed his arms, complaining as if it was a stupid question. Engineer and Wind both laughed. Ordon mumbled something about monkeys and fairies that only Sky seemed to have paid attention to, eyes going wide. Glider just shrugged.

Ultimately, Hero never really answered the question.

[candle-lamp]

Rereading SBG and writing what I notice: Episode 11-20:

- more Tyler being skeptical

- Ben really doesn’t like Tyler at first

- Ben drawing the phantom

- Ben getting creeped out by the photo, apparently always being creeped out by the supernatural 

- Aiden is really friendly to Logan

- Logan sleeping on the couch

- pretzel Ashlyn

- the weird dream sequence when they enter the phantom realm (I wonder if everyone else had a dream or if it was just Ash?)

- Tyler slamming the door in Aiden’s face

- Taylor worrying about their roommates

- phantoms can open doors

- Aiden wielding a spray bottle

- Ben worrying about Ashlyn

- Ben holding Aiden back from fighting more phantoms

- the gang is all running around in socks/barefoot

- Tyler comforting Taylor

- Aiden is the only one not shaking after the first encounter

- Aiden noticed Ashlyn’s arm

- when Ashlyn is calling out Tyler, Aiden stops smiling

- Aiden “go off queen” Clark

- Ashlyn tapping her foot

- Ben has first aid experience from patching Aiden up after "skateboard tricks, rock climbing, hiking, jumping off tall places"

- Ben blushing when complimented

- Ashlyn restraining herself from hitting Tyler

- we get to see Logan and Ashlyn's lockscreens (Logan: astronaut helmet with flowers, Ashlyn: ballet shoes)

- everyone getting sick after shifting back

- more Ashlyn foot tapping

- the group discussed going to Savannah several times previously

- ladybugs next to Ben (reference to canvas version)

- Tyler stomping off, turning around, and grabbing Taylor

- Ashlyn acknowledging Tyler's point about doing outside activities

- Aiden wanting to know where Ash's ballet studio is at in case of emergencies

- The Banners sharing popcorn

- Ashlyn's parents flipping her over the couch to interrogate her

- Ben also crouching down when Aiden comes around the couch

- Ashlyn's parents playing cards with Aiden and Ben

- props to Ash's mom for getting her hair up dang, if she was in the phantom realm Ashlyn wouldn't have needed to cut it

- clothes pile in the twins' room

- Logan's grandpa calling him "son"

- his grandma noticing when he started being anxious

- he was previously in an astronomy club but quit

- Logan can easily lie and deflect, which is probably why his grandparents didn't do anything about him being bullied

- Aiden/Ben (unclear whose room) has a minifridge

- Logan has small succulents in his room

- the panel of Taylor and Tyler (you know the one)

- Ash foot tapping, also I feel like I should've mentioned this before but she has freckles literally everywhere

- once something is interacting with in the shadow dimension, any changes in the human realm don't affect it, which includes the gang's bodies bc "injuries that happen here can be felt but not shown in our world and vice versa". does this mean their aging is going to be much slower in the shadow dimension?

- also (from what I gathered) time does seem to pass in the shadow dimension even when they aren't there bc the phantoms will move, how much time is another question

- Taylor and Tyler hide together, Aiden and Logan are together, and Ashlyn and Ben are both alone

- Ashlyn where are your shoes

- freaky ass phantom at the end of ch 20

[britcision]

ALRIGHT

I’m like 60% of the way to being a sapient human being again after Yeticon, so I shall share my Canary adventures with y’all!

(Other Canary count: still one and I didn’t even catch ‘im this time)

However, my personal Canary count is now 2, what with it being June and everything and me being worried about cooking to death if I wore Mithrun

(Luckily Saturday was unseasonably cold and I had a wonderful time!)

I did the world’s easiest new costume build in the 3 weeks between cons! Fleki’s perfect for Yeticon anyway, what with the lack of pants 😁

So! Pics from Saturday, and my first actual proper solo shoot in Mithrun! Had to put my eyebags back on with makeup after doing foundation, which was a fun experiment 👀

Also, just as we were having lunch, a Touden Party crew went past so obviously I went and stole ‘em for food shots

And then the next day, I got to muck around with makeup again to try and look more like I was on drugs! 😁 and yet people were still encouraging their small children to ask me questions

I suspect it’s the elf ears?

Oh, and obviously, since I had neither my familiar (forgot it like a dumbass) nor tiny Lycion at the time (not finished 😔), lil Mithrun got to come along for the day instead!

Obviously the mushroom sunglasses aren’t, y’know, canon accurate, but y’know what they are? Required in my soul

I did have some other props for Fleki though, for obvious reasons, and another shoot on the good camera which I don’t have back yet but will have to go here cuz it’d get me in trouble on any other social media site 👀

But! The chocolate mushrooms should be fine, maybe?

Can’t have a Fleki shoot without shrooms, it’s illegal

(I also had a baggie of vanilla sugar to be my mysterious white powder but that’s the Forbidden Shoot)

Also showing off my totally great babysitting of the captain, and also some caution tape we found when wandering the parking lot for cursed photos, but I forgot my dang glove cuz we were also helping a friend pack to leave 😔

Next time I’m hoping to have the raven, since we already have one for another costume and I just forgot it 👀 just gotta get around to filming again

Also, dramatic cape toss video

Because I can

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 18

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here, six here, seven here, eight here,nine here, ten here, eleven here , twelve here , thirthen here, fourteen here, Fifteen Here Sixteen here, Seventeen here,

master list

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out Almost entirely fluff, vague suggestions of sex, lots of comfort, it's sweet and sappy

Synopsis: Packing sucks, not as much as getting interrupted did.

Note: Chapter is a hair shorter than normal, but I promise more is coming soon < 3

The last weeks of filming are done, you're exhausted but time stops for no one. There had been so many phone calls after the trip down south. Letting the head of department know you won’t be coming to their show after this one. Next, selling the car, which Deacon happily bought. As long with selling a lot of things that you won’t need anymore. Now you have four days left to pack all your stuff, label it, and have it ready to be picked up by the moving company by Friday. Though you lived in essentially a closet you were surprised at how much stuff you had accumulated over the years. Right now on day three of packing you are ready to dump everything in the trash and disappear into the night.

“Here,” Walton hands you a glass of wine. He has his cup, a sharpie tucked behind his ear as he sits cross-legged in front of a stack of boxes. You were so grateful for his help, the man hadn’t even hesitated to stay and pack with you. Trevor and Deacon had been over to help the first two days but had quickly been brought onto another show. The two of them promised to come down and visit as soon as they could. 

“Oh dang, I need this.” You sigh, taking a sip to try and soothe your frazzled nerves. As you try to figure out how everything is going to get done. “God, if I never have to see another box. I will die happy”

Walton chuckles wrapping your foundations in foam cushioning. “Only downside to moving, packing. How many of these do you need?”

“Oh, this is a sampling of the shade range I would like to have,” You tease, grabbing some paper to wrap up some pallets. 

The two of you work for another hour somehow getting all the makeup packed and secured. You could pretty much lose everything, but those eight totes and five boxes were the most important. Two of those boxes were bankers' boxes of notes, a box with seven hard drives of photos, and the last two boxes were portfolios. Leaning back against the stack of cardboard you feel a little relief. Tomorrow would be clothes and anything left in the kitchen. If it all went well you'd be done mid-day.

Walton was currently splayed out on the floor flipping through one of your portfolios. Bare feet moving back and forth, head propped up by one hand., an empty bottle of vino beside him. You had offered to open another, but Walton had sagely pointed out that a hangover tomorrow would suck. 

“You should bring this with you when you go see Jamison,” Walton comments, pointing at a sketch of creature make-up side by side with the actual piece. You had regularly taken up any opportunity to work on indie films that required monsters, it helped keep you and your portfolio fresh.

You wiggle over and bring the glass of vino with you, “Oh, maybe. I don't want to impose. Just happy to see the place really.” 

Walton squints at you, “I promise Jamison would love these. Bring the book.”  

He flips to another page, it had his face in various stages of being shit kicked. Along with several sketches you had done of him after the fact. You can see his eyes light up as he looks it over.

“Why didn’t you show me these?” Walton gasps, looking at the closer, “These are fantastic.”

You shrug while sipping the last of the wine, “You've kept me busy, hadn't crossed my mind. I think I have one from each time we worked before.” 

“You like to draw me? Would you draw me?” Walton asks, turning to look at you from above his glasses.

You flush, biting your lip a little. “If you like, can't say how good it will come out. I should probably brush up on my sketching skills, it’s been a minute.”

Walton grins, closing the book carefully and sliding it back into its box.  He stretches, crawling over to you. Laying his head against your thigh, his weight a comforting familiarity you’ve grown to enjoy.

“Maybe some tasteful nudes,” He said with a crooked grin, “Hang them up in the dining room.” Walt’s large hands made an exaggerated motion across the air. 

You snort, almost losing your wine, “It would be a heck of a conversation starter.” You run your fingers through his hair, watching as his eyes close. “Then again, I have a feeling people won’t be too surprised.”

A grin spreads over his face, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. As he snuggles in against your thigh, “I’ve never been shy, no shame in a human body after all.” He sighs, kissing your jeans. 

Your hand runs down his shoulders and back, massaging at any knots you find, feeling them relax under your fingertips. He groans a little as you hit one between the spine and shoulder blade. Mentally noting that you should both get a massage once things have settled. You close your own eyes letting your head rest against the boxes. Enjoying the heat of his body against yours, the buzz of the alcohol having you nodding off. 

Walton is kissing your cheek, you open your eyes blinking a few times, your knees yelling at you for sitting so long. You move, stretching out as your joint clicks from being in the same position for so long. 

“M’shit.” You mumble, rubbing at your eyes trying to wake up. Walton is already up and stretching glasses and bottle up on the counter. 

“Should go to bed, sweetheart,” Walton rumbles at you, you let out a breath and push yourself up. Following him over to the bed, sleep was sorely needed. 

The bed is cold and empty, you huff wondering where your partner could have run off to. Grabbing your phone, you see it’s nine in the morning already, which meant you had five hours to finish packing.  Groaning you slide out of bed, finding a mostly clean shirt and some loose-fitting pants. You had already packed a suitcase for the flight that evening. The smell of coffee and a closing door alerts you that breakfast has arrived. 

You wander out from behind the stack of boxes, Walton balancing a coffee tray and a bag of goodies. A grin spreads across his face as he places it on the counter. He was also dressed in yesterday's clothes, a jacket covered in raindrops. 

“Good morning, gorgeous,” He beams, leaning in to kiss you. You linger there for a moment, really hating that you needed to continue to pack. 

“Whatever that is, smells amazing,” You smile back, reaching for a coffee that has your name written on top with a heart. He had taken to drawing little doodles on your coffee lid. Several you had stashed away as keepsakes. 

“There is this adorable cafe down the way, these breakfast sandwiches looked too good not to grab a couple,” Walt smiles, taking his own sip of coffee rolling his eyes, and moaning at the flavor. 

You chuckle digging a sandwich out of the bag, you take a bit repeating his groan at the food. He wasn't wrong, it was delicious food. Sighing you lean against the counter passing Walton his sandwich. The two of you munching on breakfast in a mostly quiet room. You take another sip of coffee and notice several newly packed boxes. You tip your head looking at them, walking over to see the writing on them. 

“Did you box up my clothes?” You ask, turning towards him. He has flushed a little, not meeting his gaze. You grin walking over to him, tipping his chin to look at you, surprised to see worry in his furrowed brows.

“What is it?” You ask quietly, putting your coffee down, and moving back over to him. 

Walt shrugs a little, placing his coffee beside yours, “Couldn’t sleep, didn’t know if I was excited or nervous. So I got up and packed while you slept, figured we could go down early?”

You squint a little at him, watching as he moves from one foot to the other, “Are you nervous about me moving in?”

Walton’s eyes go to the floor, his neck flushing red. It reminds you of the morning you woke up in his spare bedroom, nervous energy bouncing around the room. His usual cool confidence lowered as he looks anywhere but at you. 

“A little,” He finally looks up at you, those hazel eyes glowing in the morning light. “Haven’t had a lady living in my place in.” He looks away fiddling with his watch band, “Well it’s been a long time.”  

You pull him close so your back is against the counter and him standing between your feet. Your hands go to his waist, as you look at him for a moment, making sure to keep eye contact, before you speak. 

“You said you wanted to have hard conversations. Is this one of them?” You ask, trying your best not to let your stomach tie in knots. Since the last panic attack you'd learned to lean on him a little more, you found that getting out whatever was bothering you to ease the tension. Walton always listened, made sure that you were heard, then comforted or reassured you. You wanted to do the same for him, this wasn’t a one-sided relationship. 

Walton’s lips twitch into a smile, “I am anxious to be home with you, to have you there. I think I have this anticipation building, thinking that maybe we’ve gone too fast.” You nod your head, listening. He moves so that he is even closer to you. “But I also don’t want to slow down,” He lets out a breath. “Admitting that is terrifying. Cause the last thing I want is to push you away.”

You lean up and kiss him, holding him against you, “If we need to slow down, I promise to tell you. And if you need to slow down,”. You emphasize this, “You tell me. Open communication.”

He leans back looking at you, scanning your face. You watch his shoulder relax. “Promise?”

“Promise. I want us both to be content, however that is.” You lean up and kiss him again. “We will have our ups and downs, but knowing this.” You gesture between the two of you. “Is solid,” You shrug, lost for words. “Couldn’t ask for better.”

He moves forward, hands running over your knees, under your thighs to lift you onto the counter. Walton moves between your legs, and you wrap your ankles over his hips, hand looping up over his neck. The familiarity of the dance you two did making your heartache, 

“I will bring you the moon,” He whispers in your ear, lips trailing around your ear lob. “Pull down stars to decorate the backyard with.” He murmurs, kissing down your neck, his hands working at your hips. Soft fingers slip under the material of your shirt. “Give you the world.”

You wiggle a little, shivers running down your spine. “You’re my world.” You whisper back, letting your hands run through his hair, breath hitching as his warm hands splay across your skin. “Just need you,”

A bang on the door has you both frozen, Walton moves away adjusting himself to try and hide the obvious hardness, moving to stand behind a stack of boxes. You fix your rucked-up shirt and straighten your ow pants, face flushed. 

You open the door to see Tracy from a few doors down, you had completely forgotten that you had sold her the bed and frame. The woman had been your neighbor for the entire time you’d been in the building, the two of you only ever exchanging pleasantries. So you were surprised when she had offered to take the bed off your hands. The woman topped out at five feet, with sandy hair, leopard print glasses, and an oval face that always seemed a little worried. You were pretty sure she lived with her two sons a few doors down.  

“Oh hey,” You fluster out, trying not to look like Walton wasn’t just standing between your legs. “The bed right?”

Tracy takes you in, that worry deepening as she looks you over “Is this an okay time?”

You plaster a smile on, moving out of the way to let her in, “If you just give us two seconds, me and my-y-ah-boyfriend, will get the bed for you.”

Tracy slides in standing by the stack of boxes as Walton shuffles towards the back. Her arms crossed over her chest, a look of disapproval wrinkling her forehead more. She looks between the two of you as if you just admitted to dating a serial killer. 

“Oh, I thought that was your Dad,” Tracy says out loud, Walton nearly falls over at the words. You duck your head down as your whole face goes red. The two of you are close to having a giggling fit.

“Ahh, haha. Yeah, no.” You try not to squeak, Walton is now on the floor, hand covering his mouth as he does his best not to laugh. 

You smack his arm getting him to help you pull the covers and sheets off. Grateful that you were ridiculously anal and kept the mattress wrapped in plastic. Walton and you trip over each other moving it towards the door with it. 

“Can we bring it to your place?” Walton offers his face a lovely shade of pink as he comes to the door. You are purposely avoiding everyone’s eyes, trying not to make it any more awkward than it already was. 

“Oh,” Tracy says looking him up and down, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Walton shrugs, shaking his head, “Probably not, just one of those faces.”

Tracy’s eyes narrow, but she goes to open the door, her two sons standing there. They give awkward waves and smiles. They were male versions of their mom, except with black hair and freckles. One had a tattoo sleeve, the other wore thick blue glasses. 

“Come on in, It’s got handles at least,” You grimace, the boys grabbing the mattress, the boy with the glasses looking at Walton again. 

You and Walton go back for the frame, handing it awkwardly to Tracy who is still staring. You all but drop the thing onto her, as she continues to eyeball your boyfriend. 

“I got the transfer,” You try to get her towards the door. “So should be good to go,”

“Wait, are you Walter.” Tracey moves towards Walton, who is doing everything but crawling into a box to get away from her. “Walter Googles, you were in that show..”

Walton looks a little stunned, mouth opening and closing a couple of times.

“Ahh, I think you got the wrong person.” You say, quickly stepping in between Tracy and Walton. You were pretty positive Walton would be more than fine under normal circumstances, but really you just needed her out of your apartment. 

She glares at you, hesitating before she grabs the frames and shuffles out.

“Well I hope you have a safe trip then,” The woman says, eyes still squinting at you suspiciously as she exits.  

“Thank you, have a good day,” You reply in your best customer service singsong voice. 

You close the door, locking it before turning back to Walton, he bites his lip, the two of you waiting a good several minutes before letting out a laugh.

“I feel so bad,” You squeak, moving back over to grab a drink of coffee, 

Walton is giggling sliding down onto the floor. “You think I should go ask if she wants an autograph.”

You choke on the coffee, “No, I think that woman has been through enough.”

Walton sits there still giggling as you bring his cup of coffee. You slid down the wall, the only thing left to pack was the kitchen and bed dressing. You lean your head on his shoulder, as the two of you continue to chuckle about the situation. 

“Kitchen left?” Walton asks, kissing the top of your head. 

“Yes,” You groan, “Think we could leave?”

Walton chuckles, “How much was that damage deposit?”

Chapter nineteen

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

*thank you all for the love as always, i can't believe we are hitting eighteen chapters! when the heck did that happen!

@ghoulphile @hiddlebatchedloki @live-logs-and-proper @justme12200 @ryankaylamartin96

@rachmar  @therest-stillunwritten @awhoresjourney @stankface

@itsyellow

[shares-a-vest]

@steddie-week Day Three: First Kiss

TW: hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries and medical care.

Steve reaches Eddie's hospital room and smiles.

Not just because he can actually make it there today by himself. Not just because yeah, they'd survived and were gonna be okay. Eventually.

Eddie is sitting up, propped against a mountain of pillows, his hair sprawled across them like raven tendrils. He looks better than he did yesterday, even. Since Steve was last here, hustled away by his nurse, Dot and Robin before dinner time, Eddie has clearly been cleaned up a little.

Not that it matters to Steve, really.

It's just that a lot of dried blood is gone, only superficial marks and brushes visible, the worst of it contained under bandages. The clump of blood and gunk matted into the left side of his hair is gone too, finally washed out by someone.

He looks comfortable and a lot more like himself today.

Eddie smiles back and gives the faintest wiggle of his fingers.

Steve shuffles towards him, stepping carefully along in his hospital slippers and socks combination, trying not to wince as he goes due to the cuts on the soles of his feet.

The wheelchair he was given by the nurses assigned to them in the bowels of Hawkins General where they are tucked away from everyone else being treated after 'the earthquake', sits discarded just outside the door of Eddie's room. He's thankful today that he doesn't need it, finally free from that dang IV he was constantly getting tangled up in.

He can sit closer to Eddie now - which is all he wants.

"Hey, Steve," Eddie says as he reaches the chair. His voice is still strained, throaty and quiet.

Steve balls up his fist and extends his arm, "Look, no drip today."

"Lucky bastard," Eddie teases, a small laugh turning into a cough.

Steve braces himself at the sound for a moment, but Eddie waves away his concerns, gesturing for him to sit.

It's a struggle, his back is killing him, but he manages to drag the chair as close to the bed as possible. He props himself against the edge, leaning forward.

All Eddie can do is turn his head towards him.

"Henderson's mom forced him and Wayne outta here for a while," Eddie says.

Steve chews his bottom lip. He knows this. Dustin gave him a rundown of anything and everything, rushing into his room just after breakfast to announce his temporary departure like Steve was supposed to stop it. Selfishly, he is glad everyone is gone for a bit. It means he can just sit, be with Eddie and hold his hand, something that he reaches for the second he gets settled in his chair.

Mostly, he really just doesn't like everyone fussing around him. Plus, he hates the thought of Robin and Dustin (especially Dustin, the poor kid) sitting around in uncomfortable, hard and cold hospital chairs when they have the choice to leave and sleep in warm beds of their own.

Steve looks down at his hand intertwined in Eddie's. His nails are cleaner too, though he isn't sure who would have made them so. Maybe Robin. The second they'd arrived at the hospital, it was like a switch flipped in his best friend and all she could do was focus on dirty clothes and stains and dried blood like a mother chastising her kid for walking into the house with muddied boots. And there was still the obsessing over bats and rabies as if Eddie wasn't on the verge of dying in Steve's arms.

He grips Eddie's hand tighter at the thought and feels a squeeze back. Steve rubs his thumb over Eddie's, moving in soothing circular motions as something to focus on rather than their respective shallow breathing and the beeping of machines still surrounding the bed.

Just as he sets about a steady rhythm that calms him, Eddie begins lazily lifting his arm. He touches his hand to Steve's cheek, gazing at his now very obvious and scratchy stubble.

"You need a shave, Big Boy," he chuckles, leaving his hand lingering.

"So do you," he counters, enveloping his hand again and bringing it to his lips.

He barely kisses Eddie's scraped-up knuckles - more, he holds his hand to his mouth, the contact alerting him to just how dry his lips are. He'll have to remember to ask Robin to bring his chapstick, though he loathes asking her to go fetch something else from his house. He knows these past few days he has been a total pain, bordering on being a nightmare patient as he barely sleeps and insists on sitting with Eddie at every opportunity.

Eddie flexes his fingers, his forefinger digging into his cheek, or at least trying to at the angle Steve is clasping his hand.

"What?" he laughs and promptly clears his throat.

"When are you gonna kiss me for real, Stevie?"

Eddie smiles so wide it exposes a dimple on his right cheek and stretches the bandage taught on his left.

Steve leans against their tangled fingers and looks him over.

As soon as he was first allowed in the room (okay, he had forced his way in with his wheelchair and some frantic begging as Robin and Nancy unsuccessfully stopped him from vacating his own bed) he was by Eddie's side, holding his hand. When he finally woke up, Steve had been all teary, not caring about the display in front of Eddie's uncle who, at that point, he'd only filled in on everything via a hushed conversation over an unconscious body.

And ever since they have been like this, sitting as close as their separate medical needs allowed, holding hands and gently soothing each other. Talking quietly.

Comforting each other.

And yeah, some of that has involved some not-so-subtle flirting and knowing glances - alone in Eddie's room or not. Dustin sure wasn't being quiet about his gawking, to the point Robin joked that at least the twerp wouldn't be bothering them about their relationship from now on.

He huffs as he braces himself to move upright - he'll have to do the heavy lifting here. He squares up, actually taking Dot's advice to steady himself first so as not to strain his back or hurt his feet further. There was some instruction in there too about not exerting himself to regulate his breathing but right now his breathing is a tad laboured, his heartbeat rising as he leans in closer. He ungracefully lowers onto his elbows, hesitantly relinquishing his hold on Eddie's hand.

"Ow," he grumbles, pain shooting up the backs of his scraped-up arms.

Eddie manages to close the distance and grips his left bicep a little too hard so he has something to anchor himself sideways.

It's soft - featherlight, even.

Eddie's lips are as dry as his own, creating a sticking sensation as they part just as quick.

Eddie flops back onto his pillow with an uncomfortable groan while Steve collapses back in his armchair, legs giving way entirely. The chair scraps on the scuffed linoleum as he white-knuckles the armrests, momentarily fearful he'll tip backwards.

"That was nice," Eddie hums, closing his eyes.

Steve smiles.

It might not have been perfect, and more like a fleeting touch than any kiss he has ever had, but as Eddie laces their fingers back together, Steve knows there will be more to come.

lmao, I wrote this all out and then realised it was basically just a sequel to THIS. I really do only have three ideas in my pea-brain rotating like a rotisserie 😅

[gamora-borealis]

I had the most vivid dnp hard launch dream... a lot of it was confusing and random, I think they were somehow like living in an apartment across from mine and I knew them some and saw them holding hands in front of me very casually. Then it turned into this giant movie or documentary filmed very cinematically where Dan had released some kind of epic solo project and there were like other characters from the apartment complex who had storylines in this movie like at one point dan had passed out and they were trying to wake him up by playing really loud rock music. and at the climax of the movie there is a release party for this solo project and like huge Hollywood celebrities were there but also people from my work lol. Finally Dan appears in a white suit in the crowd and you see him look across the room and at first it looked like he was looking at this very hot celebrity guy but actually it was Phil standing just behind that guy in a pink suit. And he runs across the room to give Phil a hug and spins him around, and I was like sobbing watching this on an iPad. Then he brings Phil up to this center stage area where these journalists are and it's implied he's gonna give a speech to thank Phil and potentially hard launch. But he was kind of running up there dragging Phil along and they accidentally run into a journalist and they all fell over but she was holding a wine glass and it shattered and shards of glass got stuck in Dan's neck and they had to take him to the hospital. Before the ambulance came a guy from my work was administering first aid and I was like oh wow yeah I turned down going to this party because too many people but I'm glad he was there! Anyways Dan is fine and gets released a few days later and he and Phil walk out of the hospital holding hands and you see it as this camera angle below them where their hands are facing the sky and perfectly framed by the sun. Then all the paparazzi try to run up to them to get pictures but they only get pics once they are about to get in a car and dan is wearing this slightly sheer white short sleeve button down open over a T-shirt, and the button down is so oversized that because of the breeze it was like flowing and covering up them holding hands. And the paparazzi are like damn clearly they were holding hands but it's hard to see on camera they truly are masterminds of being vague!!! but in the camera they filmed the movie on you can clearly see them holding hands through Dan's shirt and you also already saw them holding hands so it's to imply like you the viewer of the movie get to know they were holding hands but they were still being cheeky about it within the world of this movie. And afterwards I was like this is the greatest thing I've ever seen and couldn't stop crying and even my dad was like yeah that's a great movie they talked about it on all my favorite podcasts (including Joe Rogan???) and then in the credits it was showing bloopers and irl moments between dnp and at one point they saw my apartment because I had left the door open on accident when I left one time and they were like dang it's so messy we should help her clean and I was aw like that's sweet of them but how embarrassing this is in this movie... and then it also showed unreleased pinof bloopers and the vegas vlog where they were holding hands and having fun and being giggly. then for some reason my mom came and was like oh here's some props from the movie and it was a bunch of old floppy discs but they were huge and had a DVD Cover-esque design on them of Battlestar Galactica or some kind of space show that was less popular than Star Trek and I was like wow this is so cool I kind of prefer these to CDs or DVDs! and then I woke up 😶

@dnp-dreams @phannie-dreams

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Bad Batch Chopping Block

(some spoilers, tread carefully)

Alright, the safety net is gone. Even though Pabu still stands, it will never be safe for Omega or the boys anymore. The Empire has truly closed them in from every direction. So, who's gonna make it out of this season? Just to get this out of the way, Tech is either dead or comes back. The Tech Debate is too big to tackle here.

Definitely dead:

Echo- I think he's 100% a goner. Aside from being a strong mentor figure to Omega, Echo is gonna be a martyr for his cause. He believes so strongly in his fight for clone justice and he will follow it to the grave. I can definitely see him going out in a blaze of glory while Rex watches hopelessly. Plus, Echo dying might be the reason for Rex to retire and turn to Joopa farm. Echo is the last true connection he has to his old life and the 501st. Echo also gave Omega a new weapon which doesn't bode well for him. A gift he gave her is something she can remember him by.

Most likely dead:

Hunter- I do have some hope for him. There is a chance that writers don't kill him off because they want to finish the show with all the boys together. But sadly, that is unlikely. Hunter is the mentor figure and the first real paternal figure to Omega. As the oldest of the Batch (minus Echo), he has a responsibility to watch over them. In season 3, we see Crosshair slowly learning to take over as Omega's parental figure. It's possible that Hunter will die, as many mentor figures have before him, and Cross will carry the torch. I can definitely see that happening. Hunter dies protecting Omega and Crosshair is left to pick up the pieces

Wrecker- sweet Wrecker is too dang lovable. Unlike the others, he doesn't fit as neatly into a trope category like Crosshair and Hunter. Therefore, he could honestly survive because of that. However, I definitely think he could go out in a blaze of glory as well, something akin to Hevy or Hardcase. Imagine Wrecker getting caught in an explosion as he stays behind to save his brothers and Omega? But at the same time, I don't want it to happen.

50/50 (but most likely fine):

Crosshair- I honestly think he might make it out this season mostly in one piece. The only trope he fits right now is redemption equals death and honestly, I think we're past that point. Crosshair already began his redemption arc. He saved Omega, reconciled with his brothers, reconciled with Howzer, admitted his wrongs, and genuinely wants to be a better person. He doesn't need to prove to his family that he loves them or has changed because we see that. His brothers see that. Even his new poster shows him looking at his helmet. He has found the light. It's possible this show ends with him leaving his old life to retire with Omega. He could still die protecting her, but I'm starting to think otherwise.

Crosshair has suffered so much since this show started. I made a list, but we could be here all day talking about it. I feel like it would be overkill (literally) to just kill him off after he's come so far. Also, the fact that he is getting the Dad Batch ™ treatment means that they could be propping him up to take over the role from Hunter. That or they're speed-running Crosshair's dad mode activation because he was MIA for two seasons. Honestly, I think Crosshair narrative wise is mostly safe because his redemption arc is playing out right now instead of later down the line. His arc right now is mostly about coming to terms with himself, his trauma, and his identity as a sharpshooter and soldier. I really think that this show will end with him hanging up the helmet and raising Omega.

Fine:

Omega- let's be honest, they're not gonna kill off our sweet bean. She was been our focal character since the beginning and I can't see the writers going this dark. She's safe!

Alternatively: the Batch all live plus or minus one of them. The final episode could be all of them charging in together for one final fight. They make it out (mostly) and retire with Omega. Boom, the end.