#daisy o'donnell

[kdoxkeic]

Long overdue… Irish women/men have a chokehold on me

[queer-book-character-tournament]

Characters, book, and author names under the cut

Luc O'Donnell/Oliver Blackwood - Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall

Jude/Jasper/Felix - Stake Sauce Acr 2: Everybody's Missing (Somebody) by RoAnna Sylver

Daisy Wells/Amina El Maghrabi - Death Sets Sail by Robin Stevens

Jake Fischer/Alex Angelides - Diamond Ring by KD Casey

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1196: Date Night With a Handsome Ex-King (Super Smash Bros Ultimate X Darkstalkers)

8:21 p.m. at Crimsonettê Dining Restaurant........

Dedede: (Burst Out Laughing Wearing a Snazzy Blue Tuxedo, Sitting on One Side of the Table) Oho man! (Wipes a Tear From his Eye) Ain't no way that happened.

Morrigan: (Giggles Softly Wearing a Glamorous Black Green Dress with the Back of her Hair Tied Up in a Bun, Sitting on the Other Side) It's the honest truth! One strong kick to the sacred jewels and his eyes started to pop out of it's own. A harsh, painful treatment for sure, that's the price he pays for trying to mess with my sister and the other women behind my back.

Dedede: (Nodded in Agreement) Yeah, Karma's a mean one, I'll tell ya what. (Smiles Softly) Good on your sister for looking out for you and the ladies.

Morrigan: (Happily Clasps her Hands Together) Yes!~ She has grown up into a divine young lady these days. I can never be more proud to be her doting big sister~ (Turns Back to her Date) Do you have siblings of your own, my dear?

Dedede: Nah. I'm an only child. The closest things i have to ones are the folks back home at the mansion nd my boi, Escargoon. (Hears his Phone Ringing on the Table as He Looks Down to See his Best Friend's Calling Him) Speaking of which....(Looks Up at Morrigan) Wanna meet him?

Morrigan: (Happily Nodded) Yes, please~

Dedede: You got it! (Answers the Phone in a Video Call) Dedede's speaking!

Escargoon: (Happily Greets Dedede on his Phone Screen) Hello!~

Dedede: (Smiles Back) 'Ey, man! How you been?

Escargoon: Pretty good so far! (Smiles Sheepishly While Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth on Screen) Sorry I haven't got the chance to see or speak to you again as of late. My schedule has gotten a little more busier this new year around.

Dedede: Nah, don't worry about it. I've been busy myself trying to find me a brand new Wheelie to replace.

Escargoon: (Raises an Eyebrow) Already? What happened to your old one?

Dedede: Guess.

Escargoon: It broke down again, didn't it?

Dedede: Yeah, in the MIDDLE of the damn road! And it got towed again shortly after.

Escargoon: (Eyes Widened a Bit) In one day? Talk about unlucky.......

Dedede: (Sighs While Pinching the Bridge of his Nose) It's more irritating if anything.....(Went Back to Smiling) On the bright side, I got me a girlfriend along the way.

Escargoon: (Forms a Sly Smirk on his Face On Screen) Ahhh!~ So that's why you're all dressed up tonight?~ Looking pretty sharp if you do say so myself, De.

Dedede: (Playfully Bows at Escargoon) Why, thank ya, thank ya! It ain't my best fit in the globe, but I gotta look my very best for the pretty, gorgeous lady sitting right in front of me as we speak~

Morrigan: (Giggles Softly)

Dedede: Oh yeah, speaking of which......(Turns his Phone Around Tiwards his Date) Escar, this my date, Morrigan Aensland. Morrigan, my best friend, Escargoon.

Morrigan: (Smiles Softly at the Screen) A pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Escargoon~

Escargoon: (Chuckles Lightly) Likewise. But please, just call me Escar. Mr Escargoon is my father's name oddy enough- (Suddebly Felt a Hand Poking Him) Hm? (Turns to See a Waddle Dee Standing Nextvto Him On Screen) What's up?

The Waddle Dee is telling Escargoon something on screen.

Escargoon: (Eyes Widened at the Waddle Dee) Wait. Right now!? I thought it starts in an hour or two! (Watches the Waddle Shaking his Head and Explaing Everything to Him Before Sighing in Defeat on Screen) Well, alright, get the choir ready. I'll join you all there in a minute.

Waddle Dee salutes to Escargoon before sprinting away on screen.

Dedede: Y'all having a show tonight or something?

Escargoon: Yeah, it's part of this tribute show we're been putting together for the new king of Dreamland. (Starts Rolling his Eyes a Bit) Guess he's tired of waiting.

Dedede: (Rolls his Eyes in a Bit of Annoyance) New king, huh? How he's running the kingdom so far?

Escargoon: (Shrugs) Decently. He can be a a real pompous jerk at times, but he does the job fine enough I guess. Some of the people there has been asking about you though, even that Tiff girl we were beefing with in the past.

Dedede: Does she now? And here I thought she still hated my guts.

Escargoon: (Shakes his Hand Around a Bit) Eh. She says she does, but I can tell she has some ounce of care for you whether she wants to admit it or not.

Dedede: ('Heh') Knowing her, I bet she would try and run across the entire mountain before she ever try to do that!

Escargoon: (Chuckles a Bit)Yeah, same. But anyways I better get going before crowd starts getting moody again. (Happily Waves Goodbye at the Couple) Hope you two have fun on your tonight!~ And Morrigan, would you mind keeping De out of trouble for me while you're at? Thanks

Dedede: (Glares at Escargoon a Bit) The hell man!? I can take care if myself just fin-

Morrigan: (Giggles Softly) He's already in good hands, my friend~ Don't worry.

Dedede: Morrigan, don't encourage him!-

Morrigan: (Happily Waves Back at the Slug Man) Best of luck to you at tonight's performance, Escar!~

Escargoon: Thanks, again! See ya!

'Call End'

Morrigan: (Turns Back to Dedede with a Smile) I like your friend. He seems nice.

Dedede: (Rolls his Eyes) Yeah, when he jot trying to be a smartass. 'Already have enough of that back home.

Morrigan: (Nodded in Agreement) I feel your pain. There's never been a day in the world where my little sister didn't give me any smart remarks. It's annoying really.

Dedede: Amen to that.

????: Well, whaddya we have here?

Dedede turns around to see the leader of Star Wolf, Wolf O' Donell standing behind the chair he's sitting on.

Dedede: Yo, Wolf! How you been? (Gets Himself Up From his Seat and Dab Wolf Up) I didn't take you for a fancy dinner fan.

Wolf: ('Heh') Far from it. I'm actually here on a double date with Izzy, Panther and his lady for tonight. See?

Wolf shows Dedede his table in mid-close distance where his girlfriend, Isabelle, laughing and socializing with Panther and his date, a yellow feline dressed in a royal Egyptian like fashion.

Dedede: Huh. (Points Wolf to Panther's Date in Question) That's Panther's date over there? An Egyptian Queen?

Wolf: Yeah, 'least that's what she claims herself to be. We met her back at Horizon Island a while back and her and lover boy here have been almost inseparable ever since.

Dedede: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) Damn, really? I never took that boy for the commitment type.

Wolf: Neither did I. Hell, I'm surprised they're lasting longer than I thought they would. (Notices Dedede's Date Sitting on His Table) Anyways, who's your new date this time?

Dedede: Morrigan Aensland. (Forms a Proud Grin on his Face) The most gorgeous succubus you'll ever met~

Morrigan: (Happily Waves Hello to Wolf) Hello!~

Wolf: You're dating a succubus.

Dedede: That's what I just sa- (Notices Wolf Staring at Him with Deadpinned Look in his Eyes) Oh come on! Don't look at me like that! I can take care of myself just fine.

Wolf: (Raises an Eyebrow) Really. Need I remind about the time I had to save your ass from some witch that tried to kidnap you?

Flashback

The briefly beautiful Witch Gruntilda continues to howl in evil laughter with Dedede as her poorly tied up capture until a Wolfen suddenly swoops in and knocking both her and the Ex-King out towards the night skies.

End of Flashback

Dedede: (Rolls his Eyes) Riiight. How can I ever forget the time you sent us flying across the stars?

Wolf: (Facepalms Himself While Sighing) How many times do I have to apologize for that? Leon caught you afterwards!

Dedede: Yeah! No thanks to you!

Wolf: (Shrugs) Hey, a save's a save. I consider that a worthy accomplishment.

Dedede: Accomplishment my- ('Groans') Whatevah. The point is that Morrigan ain't like that witch or any other crazy nutjobs I dated in the past!

Wolf: You sure? Cause I believe anything can happen in a like this, especially when one of your disastrous dates gets involved.

Dedede: I'm as sure as I am close to knockin' you upside the head if y'all don't stop worrying ove-

'Ahem'

The duo turns back towards Morrigan, giving her a much needed attention.

Morrigan: Excuse me, Mr. Wolfman?

Wolf: ('Ugh') Wolfman sounds like my grandpa's nickname. Just Wolf O' Donell is fine, lady.

Morrigan: Ooh~ Lovely name. (Quickly Clears her Throat Before Going Back on Topic) Anyways, I understand your concerns completely, but please let me assure you and everyone else in the Smash Family that I will do everything in my power to keep my sweet, darling king safe and happy from this day forward. As well as giving him some much needed love and affection, of course~ (Winks at her King)

Wolf: (Whispers to an Already Flustered Dedede) Sweet, Darling King, huh?

Dedede: (Comes Back to Reality Before Rolling his Eyes at Wolf Again) She already knows I'm Ex-Royalty, don't even start. (Forms a Teasing Smirk) Besides, it's leagues better than being called Wolfie-Kins 24/7.

Wolf: (Starts Glaring at Dedede) Don't you fucking eve-

Isabelle: (In the Distance) Wolfie!~

Dedede: Speak of the devil~

Morrigan: Is that ypur date for the event?

Wolf: ('Sigh') Yeah, I better get back to my Tae before she starts getting worried again. (Starts Walking Away) Have fun in your date or whatever.

Morrigan: (Happily Waves Goodbye to Wolf) Likewise!~

Dedede: Y'all don't do anything I wouldn't do over there, Wolfie-Boi! (Laughs Wholeheartedly)

Wolf gives Dedede the middle finger as he continues walking off.

Dedede: ('Sigh') That boi is still as soft as ever, I'll tell ya what.

Morrigan: (Starts Frowning a Bit) Dedede dear, do you mind if I ask you question for the evening?

Dedede: (Happily Shakes his Head at Morrigan as He Sits Back Down in his Down) Not at all. Whatcha wanna ask me?

Morrigan: Your previous dates. Were they....really as disastrous as Wolf said

Dedede: I.....(Smiles Awkwardly as He Starts Rubbing The Back of his Head Back and Forth) Wouldn't exactly call all of them a....completely disastrous or anything! (Let's Out an Awkward Chuckle) Unless you wanna count all the kidnappings, the stood ups, the debit card bankruptcies that happened the day after, or that one time I used as a surgery test dummy by some creepy looking nurse lady.

Morrigan: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) What!? Why would she do such a thing?

Dedede: (Shrugs) Your guess is as hella good as mine, girl. B-But it's fine! Not great, but it's a lot better than getting possess most of the time by dark matter-Why the hell did I say that out loud?

Morrigan: (Starts Getting Worried) Darling......

Dedede: ('Sigh') Listen, I know it ain't an easy ride for me along the way, but that's all behind me now, especially all the trouble I caused that got into being former king to begin with. I ain't shit.

Morrigan: Maybe to some. (Gently plave her Hand on Top of her Date) But you're shit to me. (Smiles Softly)

Dedede: (Stares at Morrigan Forba Brief Second Before....) Pffft Hehehehehehehehehehh!!!

Morrigan: (Immediately Places on a Playful Pouty Look on her Face) Dedede! How dare you? We were having a sincere moment here!!

Dedede: (Tries Calming his Laughing Down) Sorry, sorry. Your word delivery just threw me off for a second here.

Morrigan: (Shrugs While Letting Out a Sigh) I suppose....But seriously though, I meant every word I said in case you were wondering. And believe me when I say that I wasn't any better of person myself. (Looks Down at her Glass of Wine) I've done things that were selfish and thoughtless, most of which I regretted to this very day.

Dedede: (Forms a Reassuring Smile) Hey, that's cool. It happens to the most of us at times. (Gently Grav Hold of Morrigan's Hand) We just gotta try to better ourselves and keep pushing forward the best we can, you know?

Morrigan: (Stares at Dedede Smile For a Few Seconds Before Smiling Back) Yes. I agree. And...if you don't mind, I would like continue to push forward....,(Gently Squeezes Dedede's Hand) With you by my side.

Dedede: (Smiles Brightly) Sounds good to me!

An Hour or Two Dinner and a Wheelie Ride Around the Town Later.......

Dedede: (Parking his Wheelie in Front of the Smash Mansion's Entrance) Here we are! (Takes hus Helmet Off of his Face Before Taking a Deep Breath) Home sweet home! (Politeky Bows to his Date) After you, m'lady~

Morrigan: (Giggles Softly as She Steps Out of the Front of the Ride) Such a gentleman~ I appericate you giving me a tour around the town this evening. (Wraps her Arm Around Dedede's as the Two Make Their Way to the Front Entrance) It was very fun experience.

Dedede: No problem. What kind of escort i would be for I didn't give you a nice little joyride in a night like this? Now, are you sure you don't wanna come inside here for a little while? We can watch some TV to pass up the time.

Morrigan: That would also be lovely. ('Sigh') But atlas!~ I must get my beauty sleep for the rest of the Nighy. I have a busy schedule ahead of me tomorrow I'm afraid.

Dedede: (Frowns a Bit) Oh.....

Morrigan: (Places her Hands onto Both of Dedede's Cheeks and Wiggles hus Face From Side to Side a Bit) But don't you worry your cute, handsome face~ I'll be sure to call and text you first thing in the morning. So please.....(Gives Dedede a Nice, Loving Kiss on the Lips Before Pulling Herself Away) Wait for me until then, okay?~

Dedede: (Already Lovestrucked) Y-Yeah~ Sure thing, my queen~ (Immediately Comes Back to Reality Once He Realized What he Just Said) I-I mean, Morrigan! S-Sire thing, Morrigan. That's what I...er meant to say.

Morrigan: (Giggles Some More) about are such a silly man!~ I love it~ (Gives Dedede a Kiss om the Cheek) Have a good night's rest, my dear king. (Summons her Group of Bats to Form a Seat for a Sit On, Waving Goodbye to her Date as They Fly Her Off to the Night Skies) Hope to see you soon!~

Dedede: Likewise. (Waves Back at Morrigan) See ya! (Let's Out a Rekaxed, Satisfied Sigh)

?????: Awwwwwwww!~

Dedede: What the- (Quickly Turns Around to See his Group of Friends and Family Smiling and Smirking at Him Before Facepalming Himself) You gitta be fucking- (Glares at the Gang) Have y'all been spy on us this entire time!!?

Cloud: We won't confirm nor deny that clam.

Dedede: Don't get smart with me, boy.

Luigi: ('Sigh') We're sorry, your majesty. We couldn't help ourselves.

Chun-Li: You two look so cute together in the pictures you sent us earlier that we couldn't help but to spy.

Samus: And now that you two finally parted ways for the night, we are need of every bit of detail you got for us right about now~

Dedede: (Puts on a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Y'all won't leave me alone till I cave in, will you?

Daisy: Yep!~ Especially considering how persistent most of us are.

Samus: Ladies, Weegie, if you will please~

Tifa/Luigi/Chun-Li: (Gives Dedede Six Sets of Puppy Dog Eyes) Pleease tell us about date night, Dedede~ Pleeeeeease?~

Dedede: ('Groans in Defeat') Alright, alright, I'll tell y'all the details! Just quit it with the adorable eyes of yours already, will ya?

Tifa: (Smiles Brightly) Sure!~

Luigi/Chun-Li: Pleasure doing business with you!~

Dedede: (Sighs While Rolling his Eyes Yet Again) Whatevah. (Makes his Way Inside With Everyone Following Behind Him) I swear, each and everyone of y'all are impossible sometimes......

Cloud: Wevcan say the same about you as well, De.

Samus: Doesn't stop us from loving ya though.

Dedede: Yeah, yeah, I love y'all too.

'Door Closed'

As Morrigan continues to fly off within the multiple upon multiple bright stars in the sky, she looks down and scroll to every picture she and her darling King Dedede took together on her phone before she happily hugs it close to her chest, adoring ever moment she spent together with him, hoping to do so again in the very near future.

@ma-lemons

@cyber-wildcat

@albion-93

@tampire

@bestpony666

@boriswolf4423

@italian-love-cake

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

I have a quick request for ship headcanons in SSBU. What do they all do for Christmas, out of interest?

Link and Samus: This year they've booked a special room at a tropical world for a sunny getaway. Neither of them are fond of the cold, and Link doesn't like getting called Santa's Elf except by Samus, so they don't mind having Christmas in a swimsuit. Their Christmas Tree is a Palm Tree that they've wrapped lights around.

Ness and Meggy: Ness is actually Jewish so they'll be celebrating Hanukah at his place and then celebrate Christmas at her apartment in Inkopolis. Both will be simple little affairs, no real bells and whistles.

Mario and Peach, Luigi and Daisy: A huge Christmas bash at Peach's castle! Giant tree, covered in lights, tons of presents, a Christmas Feast, the works! Benefits of living in a post-scarcity Fairy Tale Kingdom.

Zelda and Dark Samus: Dark Samus gets nervous in large groups, so they'll be having a quiet little celebration at Hyrule Castle with only the occasional venturing out into Castletown's festival. They've tentatively invited Dark Link since he's Dark Samus' "son", but he still hasn't forgiven her for joining the heroes.

Lucas and Ashley: Ashley is a witch and a pagan so she celebrates the Yule and Lucas' Christmases are only associated with bad memories (his mother and brother's deaths still haunt him), so he celebrates with her.

Wolf and Isabelle: Wolf gave his idiot teammates a holiday so he and Isabelle could have the Wolfen all to themselves. He didn't decorate very well because he's not use to all this "comfort and joy" crap but he did his best and that's what counts.

Richter and Lucina: A nice and cozy little cabin in the forest. In another lifetime it was a safehouse from the endless Risen Hordes. In this one, it's a peaceful getaway, and Lucina loves that.

[everyone-is-incorrect]

Fox, Falco and Wolf: [arguing]

Daisy: Can you guys stop having relationship problems while I'm on the phone with my dentist?

[mutant-distraction]

Kevin O'Donnell

Hunter's Moonrise over Daisy Mountain.

IG: @theskydetective

[dadsbongos]

freak's church

7.1 K words

warnings - you have mommy issues!!! (absent mother things), failcringe poetry, this whole fic is just eddie munson exhibiting "love as religion", niche 80s death metal band is referenced numerous times, takes place in 1984 (eddie's first senior year), fem reader

summary - Eddie Munson has been trying to court you in his own special way since kindergarten and now he may finally get a chance thanks to Mrs. O'Donnell's stupid poetry contest.

“The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost, is - at its core - an extended metaphor about the bravery it takes to be authentic to one’s self. To traverse your own path even if other people may not agree or even support you.”

Nancy Wheeler is abundantly smart, and it surprises you that she decided to analyze the most played-out poem since ‘roses are red, violets are blue’. Luckily for her, you - and the rest of Mrs. O’Donnell’s senior English class - aren’t paying much attention to her exhaustive speech. You’re drumming a pencil against your hand and Eddie is watching from the seat over, trying to copy the motion and determine what song is on your mind.

Nothing he’s listened to, apparently.

Nancy slides into her seat behind you and despite not listening, you pause your drumming to celebrate her lack of stuttering and embarrassment.

Mrs. O’Donnell cuts you off quickly, “Munson, you’re up.”

Eddie’s gaze snaps from you to where the woman is standing, hands on her hips and glasses crashed to the button bump of her nose. He prefers looking at you - by far.

“About that,” he leans forward, hands linking across the chipped, scratched desk wood, “I didn’t do it.”

O’Donnell removes her glasses, brows to her hairline, “Youdidn’tdo it?”

“I got busy,” he defends weakly, sitting up a little straighter, neck burning a little hotter, “Didn’t have time.”

He was caught up teaching his neighbor kid how to drive, not that anybody else needed to know that. O’Donnell isn’t known for believing sob stories anyway, and he doubts that her least favorite student is going to change any of that.

“Munson, meet me after class,” she replaces the thick round frames over her eyes and scans her roster for a new victim to present.

Kids in chunky sweaters and letterman jackets and silky skirts “oooh” at the callout, but you don’t. You don’t seem to care at all, but that isn’t a surprise.

At the end of an hour-long Hellfest called English 7-8, Eddie slips out from his seat and clambers up to the metal desk of Mrs. O’Donnell. He turns to watch people hurry free for their next class. They giggle at him and with each other and he imagines it’d hurt more if it were the first time this had happened.

Then he turns to watch you. Slinging the threadbare straps of your backpack over your shoulders, you reach for the walkman he remembers you first wearing on the second Thursday of junior year. He feels weird for remembering that, but it wasn’t intentional - that just happened to be the same day Wayne sprained a wrist on the job. Like how everybody knows where they were when the United States officially withdrew from Vietnam, he can recall that entire day up to the hospital phone call.

“Oh,” O’Donnell calls your name and you look at her like she just put a cigarette out against your arm, “Mind coming here, dear?”

You do, he can see it in your clenching jaw and squaring shoulders. You mind quite a bit, but you string the headphones around your neck and cup the player to your stomach. You nudge your forehead towards O’Donnell, prompting an explanation.

Eddie and you lock eyes briefly and he loves the way your lashes bat sweetly into a minor glare. People think you’re mean, but he thinks you’re like sunshine. And daisies. With soft little petals that cup rainwater for fairies.

“Plainly speaking,” O’Donnell takes her glasses off again to card them behind her bangs, and if Eddie had a shot every time she took off her glasses just to replace them later he’d be wasted, “Eddie isn’t viable for his English credit this year. And I want him to graduate as much as he does.”

Maybe if he paid as much attention to her words as he did her mannerisms, he’d have his credit.

Your nails dig into the flesh of your bag’s strap like the Mayfield’s dog he saw eating cold cuts behind their chain link fence. Your face pinches, lips screwing unpleasantly as you ask, “And what doIneed to do with that?”

“Well, since I already know you’d entered the school’s poetry contest- “

Eddie’s jaw drops almost like a rubber hose animation, eyes nearly popping from his skull and you glare at him before he can even think of something to say.

“Shut up.”

He raises his hands defensively at your venomous tone, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Didn’t have to, I can feel it,” you squeeze the strap of your backpack tighter as if Eddie might suddenly wrangle it off of you.

But he would never - not even in a nightmare. Despite your accusatory tone, he grins big and sweet and utterly stupid under your stare, “You’re not feeling anything.”

You go to call him a liar - claim he’s being mean - cry wolf, but Mrs. O’Donnell interrupts you, “Eddie can get extra credit by entering the contest with you. I’ll give half credit to the poetry analysis he’s already missing just for entering. Depending on where he finishes in place value, I’ll add points in the grade book.”

“Not to be rude, but - again - what do I have to do with this?”

“I want you to go with him to sign up so I know he actually did, and I want you to report back with what rank he finishes at in the contest,” she slips her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose and Eddie considers those shots again, “Can you do that for me, dear?”

You almost find it endearing that she uses such sugary names for you - in the band tees and torn stockings and apparently Satanic interests - as she would for the cheerleaders and band geeks. As if you don’t find evils scrawled on your locker and hate tossed at you throughout the halls.

“Sure,” you press your lips and tug your headphones on, “See you tomorrow, Mrs. O’Donnell.”

“See you tomorrow!” she slips her glasses back over her head and Eddie can nearly feel the burn of his favorite peanut butter whiskey down his throat. He gives that up in favor of following you in puppylike glee down the corridor to your seventh period.

You and Eddie met in kindergarten when you were put in the same class with Mr. Peters and you’ve been in the same classes ever since. Lawson’s first grade. Tilinsky’s second grade. Peters -again- in third grade. Paur’s fourth grade. And so on and so forth until the present. You’ve always hated loud, obnoxious people and that certainly didn’t stop at Eddie Munson.

Eddie’s always wanted attention, but he’s always especially wanted your attention.

“Hey,” he jabs you in the arm, and just by the frayed, tangled hair that swings into the corner of your eye you know he’s giving that cheap, crinkle-eyed, cherry-lipped smile, “Hey.”

Your eyes roll almost on their own, something hefty that twists from one corner to the other, “Don’t you have a class to go to, Munson?”

“Just physics,” he waves you off, “practically optional.”

“You need science credits to graduate, brainiac,” you push back your headphones to rest around your neck again, clicking pause.

“Not me, I took AP bio over the summer - Higgins just won’t let me drop it.”

“I’m sorry,” you step off to the side of the hallway, away from the trampling crowd and glare heavily, “Howis thatmyproblem?”

Eddie smiles at you so simply that an outsider could think you’d told him his hair looked nice today. People think you’re a bitch, Eddie thinks you’re intoxicating.

“You’re a library TA,” the minute bell rings and you would wonder how he knew that if the annoying tyke didn’t skip his physics class so often, “so just help me enter now, and we can start my little poem.”

In kindergarten, Eddie had a missing front tooth that he said was from a fight with a first grader. Now, that tooth has grown back and you hate the fact that such big teeth are even somewhat charming. And those stupid baby cow eyes and disagreeably kissable lips.

You huff and snag him by the leather jacket sleeve as the final bell for seventh-hour rings. You hate to admit that the scraggly, bruised little boy that used to smell like pennies after recess and make himself an ass for a speedy laugh may actually be attractive. That’s more disturbing than any parentally disadvised music could possibly be.

“Hey, Ms. Banks!” you call to the kindly woman standing behind the front desk, “I’ll be helping Eddie for most of the hour, is that okay?”

She nods slowly and logs the book of a wiry-framed girl with thick glasses as ‘checked in’, the girl stares wide-eyed and horrified at Eddie as she scampers out.

“Sure thing, sweetheart, I can hold the fort for today.”

The nickname, again, is so different from you and your tastes and he might love it. He might want to call you that, too.

You shove a sign-up sheet into Eddie’s chest and bring him to one of the less dusty tables littered through the stained, grimy library carpet. He stumbles a moment as you slam him down into a chair that creaks more than his own bedroom door.

“The theme is flesh and blood,” and maybe it’s the way you twist the Slayer shirt slung over your bones or the way you never mention your parents, but Eddie’s bambi eyes slick wide in an assumption of gore.

“I didn’t think Ms. Banks was into that.”

You purse your lips and jab him in the side, “Kin, dumbass.”

It’s then that the wispy hair of Ms. Banks enters frame, loosely knotted in a gentle bun, she smiles and sets the log of books in front of you with a soft literature stack easily resting in a single hand, “However students take it, is their own way. Nobody should limit their creativity.”

Eddie sets his face cocky as Ms. Banks takes his contest application and flutters back behind her desk, tone snarky as he says, “Didn’t see that.”

“She was one of the original rock and rollers,” you kick your feet up onto the bottom rungs of his chair, “Pot smoking, not praying, all that.”

‘Hmph’ing and pulling a corner-torn, wrinkled loose leaf paper from his bag, Eddie pats himself down for the pencil heknowshe had in O’Donnell’s, “Didn’t seethateither.”

“Right?” you turn to the short stack of books before you and adjust the log closer, “Can you manage a little poem without me, Munson?”

“No.”

You groan, rolling your eyes at him once again, not that his answer stops you from moving on and beginning to catalog the books handed over.

And once again, Eddie can’t help but think about every single time he’s heard your name and ‘bitch’ so much as muttered under the same breath. Every time a boy has pointed at you with shrewd stares and crooked, shaking fingers. Each scoff and quirked brow and grimace - he could just about scream. He’s been drop-dead smitten since kindergarten and he’s always wanted you to justlook at him- here you finally are and he’d rather repeat senior year than have you look away now.

“You should be able to,” you check a copy ofTo Kill a Mockingbirdwith a coffee stain on the cover into the log and Eddie watches how your tongue pokes through your lips when you concentrate. His does that too and he wonders, briefly, if you picked it up from one another, “You write songs.”

A mock gasp that displays his freshman theater actor chops slips from Eddie’s lips, “And how would you know that?”

You raise a brow and grin unevenly, “We’ve been in the same class since we were five,obviouslyI know about Corroded Coffin.”

And he decides to tease just because that’s how he’s comfortable bantering with you. He wonders if that’s the way to go about his infatuation, he doesn’t get to ponder for too long before you typically respond, “Yeah? Ever been to a show?”

This time, however, you’re so bizarrely silent that it earnestly hurts his ears.

But he decides to store it for later.

“Can I see yours?” you jump back from his sudden question, Eddie grins, “Promise to show you mine.”

“No way, poetry is something deeply personal, and I don’t want to,” your back straightens, purely defensive, and he watches you stack bricks to keep him at bay.

It never really has, though. Your bricks are never bonded with mortar and Eddie likes plucking them away.

“You’ll have to read it out loud eventually.”

“And ‘eventually’ isn’t today. Or right now, so shut it and start writing.”

He doesn’t start writing, instead, he continues to prod, “What’s it about? Do I have permission to knowthat, at least?” when you fail to return his eagerness, he clears his throat and flicks his gaze to the blank paper before him, “For an idea?”

“My mom,” you bite, smacking the eraser end of your pencil into the paper book log.

“Huh?”

“Mymom.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You glare, pencil pausing before you can smack it into the log, “No. She’s not dead or anything, just…” you kick him in the ankle, “Write.”

She just chooses to not be around.

Eddie leans closer, just a bit, enough for his hair - soft and freshly washed, you hate to notice - to brush against your arm. He smiles and you’re reminded of how lopsided his little grins have always been, “It’ll never get better if you don’t talk about it.”

“Mhm,” you check and tick and ‘x’ your way through the remaining boxes on the library log. Once finished, you finally turn to face Eddie fully and he’s suddenly struck by the upset that you hadn’t been looking at him like this the entire time, “And you’re the master of healing, huh?”

“Well, I’m not antisocial,” he rests his chin on the meat of his palm, brows raised.

You match the motions, but with narrowed eyes. More cynical, more angry than his, “No, but you are overly desperate for attention.”

Passing notes just to get caught. Calling jokes in the middle of lectures. Poking the jocks. Animating himself completely, just for you to watch the colors and frames flicker - just for you to giggle and point and fluster over. You do, sometimes, and it feels like a honeyed glaze straight to his ego.

“I only do that stuff around you.”

At lunch, when you’re across the room, he keeps to himself and his group - bizarrely enough. It’s only when you walk by for the lunch line or to see a friend that he decides to get up and prance like your little show pony.

“Of course.”

Because while you assume he likes to piss you off, he’s praying that you realize he’s in love with you. Has been since you were the only person paying attention while he showed off a moldy, missing-eared, ratty teddy bear his mom gave him for Mr. Peters’ kindergarten show and tell.

Instead of a sudden realization, you turn back towards the table and run the pad of your thumb into the engraved grooves on your walkman’s body. Your brows pinch like you sat in ice water and shake your head, “Just start writing something about your dad.”

You’re blunt to an aged knife’s point, your words could slice straight through each layer of skin should you wish them to. You say what’s on your mind until it comes to your own life and that interests him as much as it frightens others. Maybe more. He loves that about you.

Adjusting the headphones from around your neck to your ears, you hit the apricot play button and Eddie can only vaguely hear what plays. Something strong - intense drums, he knows that - but he can’t pinpoint it exactly. He tries matching the rhythm again.

Then a voice like grit and grime leaks out.

Arise from the dead and attack from the grave

Eddie leans closer into your vision, “The killing won’t stop until first light.”

“Huh?” you remove one of the stuffed muffs, scowling.

He can hear the lyrics clearer than before.

We’ll bring you to hell because we want to enslave

Eddie giggles, pure shock and glee, he drags curls in front of his mouth just to hide the overexcited pull of his lips, “Nofuckingway.”

In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t be all that shocked you’re listening to death metal.

“You, uh- “ you remove the headphones entirely and hit pause, “you know the band?”

“Fucking yeah!” he’s practically hopping in his seat, vibrating with excitement that his dreamgirl somehow got dreamier, “They rock shit!”

You chuckle, genuinely chuckle, covering your mouth at the sound, “Didn’t know Possessed could actually reach the surfaces of metal,” you lift the player a little off the table, “Death Metalis actually my favorite song off their album. I’m waiting for the next one.”

“Where’d you even find Seven Churches?” Eddie delights when you turn to face him fully again, “I looked everywhere and couldn’t even find a place that’d heard of the damn thing.”

You nudge his boot with yours, no longer covering your mouth as you simper, “I have my sources, maybe I’ll share them if you can write two stanzas in the next…” you whirl around to the hanging clock above Ms. Banks’ suddenly barren desk, “half hour.”

He does end up writing two stanzas, and you still don’t share your apparent sources. You’re terrible, he adores you.

That next day, during your TA period and his typically skipped chemistry class, he bounces into the library as you print out late book notices. He pinches your arm as he approaches, and you jab him with your elbow on instinct.

“Hell’re you doing, Munson?”

Eddie pulls out a piece of paper with lead marks and a new water stain, waving it straight in front of your bored face, “I got another stanza at home.”

“Congrats, how many more are you gonna do?”

“Depends,” he shrugs and leans against one of the dustier printers, poem haphazardly tucked into the corner of his crossed arms, “Can I hear yours yet, loner?”

“Depends, do you plan on actually getting anything from it or just teasing me?” he gets no chance to tell you he would never so much as dream of making fun of you before you’re pulling the printed notices out and walking behind the main desk, “Either way, keep dreaming.”

“Then will you at least tell me where you got the Seven Churches album if I complete my poem today?”

Sparing him the slightest glance, your lips quirk up and you shrug, “Maybe.”

Eddie thinks his poem is overtly dismal - about the lack of love and affection he ever felt before moving in with Wayne, who was brash but patient and kindly in his own way.

But he wants it to be happier, hefeelslike it should be happier - like some literary equivalent to the Hays Code. He thinks he should write about the girl in kindergarten who was the only one to listen to his show and tell - who then shared her crayons with him even though she brought them special from home. The girl in third grade who said he should sign up for the talent show because she knew he was learning guitar. The girl in fifth grade that was so kind and willing to listen after his mom died even though he knew she was struggling with her mom, too, and everyone thought she was terribly mean. And the girl that always glares at him for being loud in class, but he loves the way her brows scrunch and how her eyes always search for him during attendance.

You’re visibly fatigued, head laid against the library desk as you draw lazy shapes into the dark wood.

He thinks everyone should hear about how wonderful you really are.

“Is poetry easy? ‘Cuz it's like songwriting or whatever,” your gaze bounces up to him briefly, cheek squished against the table.

Eddie shrugs, folding his poem nervously in place of wringing his hands and dragging over a stray chair from one of the abandoned tables, “I feel like I should be trying harder, like it should be more heartfelt.”

In the margin of his paper, he scrawls a quick note to his future self “the girl that pays attention to useless details like I do”.

You huff and sit straight, back arching until it pops, “What’re your songs about? The original ones.”

“Boobs and blood, mostly.”

“Sounds awesome.”

“It totally is.”

He thinks he should write about how the girl has never changed, and it makes him wonder if he’s being stupid. But he wants herbad- his friend, his girlfriend, his wife, doesn’t matter as long as it's her,you- because she,you, is the only person to ever understand or ever take the time to begin understanding him.

In middle school, when he actually did decide to perform in the school talent show with his band, he got booed off stage by the other students. When he ran out and sat on the curb just to avoid their scowls and pointed stares and hatred, you followed.

The Hawkins air was practically tearing flesh from Eddie's nose with its freezing temperature, he just knew it was candied red by how numb it felt. But he’d rather be on the curb outside school, under blinking stars that he swears are moving, than back in there with the jeers and points. He hates them more than they could ever hope to hate him, he hates their twisted faces and he hates their forked tongues and prodding horns that twist like goats’. They terrify him more than any ear-rupturing music or D&D foe.

And as he sits under that frozen sky, the cold melts with golden sunlight when another person sits beside him on that hard, slightly slick curbside. Not just any person, when he finally looks over he realizes where the warmth comes from.

You nudge his shoulder with yours as you ask, “Where’d you learn to play?”

Eddie ran a hand over the spiky texture of his buzz cut and briefly considered if he’d be warmer with longer hair, “Taught myself.”

You nod slowly, following his eyes up to the stars that hang lonely in purple-black sheets, “How’s your uncle doing?”

“Busy,” Eddie hooked his arms around his bent knees, tucked close to his chest, still dodging your stare, “Fine.”

You scare him in a different way. You feel like an untouchable relic among the long, listless rows of empty plastic and cardboard boxes in Hawkins. Too precious to taint with hands that have been bloodied and bruised and cracked, hands that once belonged to his father, hands that know how to fight and steal. But you are also the only person to know what he feels. To have no friends your own age and be dodged by people in the hallways. To have the heavy rejection of your own parents be shot straight through the meat of your face and rot your insides.

He finally decided to look at you then, his big bambi eyes shy and barely meeting yours, “You ever feel alone in a room full of people?”

You lean down, head tilting, “Is that how you felt in there?”

Eddie nods, plucking up the courage to slide closer to you on the pavement, “Yeah… Do you?”

“Yeah,” it’s quiet for a moment, you lean into Eddie and find warmth like the sun’s in his body, “I know we’re not friends, but if you feel alone and I’m in the room with you - then you’re not.”

His head bumps yours gently before settling onto the junction of your shoulder, your head rests on his as he asks, “What if you don’t remember this?”

“I will - it isn’t every day that the boy who makes himself an ass all the time almost cries in front of you.”

He shoots straight at that and you laugh at his wide eyes, your head throws back. Eddie giggles at how your nose scrunches before wiping his, admittedly wet, eyes with the sleeves of his patchy, rough sweater, “I wasn’t gonna cry.”

“Yeah, right,” you scooch closer to him yet again, internally reasoning it as your desire for his warmth, “You’ll have to play something for me. Just me, though, ‘cuz nobody else would understand it.”

Leaning back into you, Eddie grins big and bright and you try not to stare, “I will. Promise.”

Eddie taps the band of his rings against the wood, “Do you remember that day in middle school? During the talent show?”

You blink once, twice, and nod curtly, “Yeah.”

Without it being said, you both know exactly what he means. Because you’re the only two that could understand.

“I still have to play something for you.”

“Whatwouldyou play?”

He straightens up, palms splaying flat on the wood and you hate how your eyes linger there for a moment. He grins, tone fluttering up and you can tell that he’s excited. Something about that feelsnice, making the showman giddy.

“I learnedFade to Blackby Metallica - you listen to Metallica? I’m obsessed with them,” he raises his brows, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

You pick up your walkman and gently rattle it, “Duh.”

Eddie’s hands nervously fiddle with one another, no longer satisfied with his paper. He scratches at the flat of his nails, swallowing the nerves settling in his throat, “Wanna come over sometime?”

You shrug, forehead tipping to where he’s got his poem scrunched in one hand, “You done?”

“I will be tonight,” he settles on one elbow, chin in his hand and he winks - you find it charming in a bizarre way, “Sorry, got caught up talking to averypretty girl.”

“Hm, and I bet she’s just stoked to be the apple of your eye,” you tease.

“I hope she is,” but he is nothing if not genuine.

The air is stiff and you’ve never been good at admitting what the problem is, so you move on, “Can I read what you have so far?”

Suddenly shy, Eddie’s eyes briefly find the various notes he scrawled about you, “That isn’t a very good idea.”

‘Hmph’ing, you shrug and lean down on your elbows, “And I was gonna let you read mine.”

“Really?”

“Fuck no.”

You snicker and pick up your bag, the late book notices, and a pink hall pass for various classrooms. Eddie watches as you look between the students and their class as you come around the main desk, headphones coming around your neck.

Folding your arms, you nudge Eddie’s sneaker, “I’m free Saturday. If you want me over, you can pick me up at noon,” he ignites at that, wide-eyed and rosy-cheeked like that night back in middle school, “Same house.”

Little fireworks splatter like Jackson Pollock hues of anticipation inside Eddie’s stomach and he’s reminded, once again by you, why people call it butterflies. He only realizes he hasn’t responded when you’re already about to step out of the library,

“I’ll be on time!” you look over your shoulder at him when he shouts, he swears he sees you smiling, and he continues, “Promise!”

Eddie was two minutes late.

And you told him that as soon as you were standing outside his van, the passenger side window rolled down.

“Well, I was cleaning,” Eddie leans over to unlock the door when his console button fails, “So that’s why I was running late.”

You roll your eyes but settle in nonetheless, appreciating the stark lack of trash you hear about from his flock of underclassmen.

“Sorry,” he scratches at his arm despite it being smothered by that leather jacket he huffs around everywhere.

Dropping the facade for just a moment, you decide to pat his shoulder as he pulls away from your house, “Don’t worry about it, Eds.”

And he’ll be holding onto that memory and that brief contact for the rest of his life.

And when you’re in his trailer, surrounded by the band posters and dusty wardrobes, you finally decide to let go.

“If I let you read my poem, will you let me read yours?”

“You’re hilarious,” he tosses stray pajamas on his rustled bed into the laundry basket but turns to watch you as silence pervades the room. You’re nottryingto be funny. Not at all, and Eddie drops the shirt in his hands, “What?!”

You pull out a nearly folded piece of paper from your waistband and flip it against your clammy palm before handing it over. It shakes in your hand. Eddie takes it and looks at you as if asking for permission before floundering for his own paper and flinging it towards you.

“You can only read it if you won’t make fun of me,” he flops back onto his bed, hair spreading silky against the bedspread and pillows.

You sit on the mattress by his legs, “Even thoughyoubrought up that day in middle school, you seem to forget that promise I made. Understanding and whatnot.”

“You actually promised I wouldn’t feel alone,” he nudges you with his thigh.

“Same damn thing, Munson.”

“Not at all.”

You lay back with him and pinch his arm, “Promise I won’t make fun of you.”

He’s trying to be casual - really, earnestly trying - but it feels like trying to single-handedly take down the Great Wall of China when you’re laying beside him and about to be reading his admission on how he’s been head over heels for you since kindergarten. So he buries his nose in your poem and pretends to not be staring when you glance back at him. And he feels ridiculous for being so focused on himself when you’ve got your heart on a lined loose leaf right in front of his eyes.

Eddie, like most, knew vaguely about your situation with your mother. He, like most, knew she wasn’t in the picture - and he, like most, knew better than to bring her up. What he didn’t know was that you called her number every day after school three times and would wait through all the useless, racketing ringing for her to answer (she never did). He didn’t know you felt stupid for wanting her back when she practically ripped the veins out around your heart like faulty cords. He didn’t know you wished you were a kid just so she could find it easier to love you again.

And Eddie, most of all, didn’t know you actually wanted to talk about it.

But who will talk to you When you’re alone When you’re the local shrew When they think I’m digging bone

And he always knew you were stranded like he is - adrift in the raging societal ocean with a thin, deflating life ring. That’s why he believed you when you claimed to understand him.

Your very last two lines - though - are something that catch his attention.

A boy annoying and sweet and persistent I think I want him around

You think you want him around. He hopes you’re not lying and he hopes you have the capacity to adore him as he does you. He hopes this means his own secret won’t terrify you.

Eddie, as he usually does, goes off-topic halfway through his writing. He says that with puberty came an interest in girls - one girl, specifically. You have a feeling, from the memories you share with him and how fondly he describes them, that the one girl - specifically - is you.

People think she’s mean But I’ve seen her before

He’s seen you - helping underclassmen and pushing jocks off nerds and listening to all of Eddie’s recruitment speeches for Hellfire even though you both know you’re disinterested.

Eddie knows people say teenagers don’t know shit about love, but he swears to God he’s absolutely taken with you.

You let the water-speckled paper flutter to your tummy and you press it down, both hands falling atop it. He watches you stare at the ceiling as you ask, “Is it about me?”

Eddie’s head tilts against the mattress so he’s looking at you, eyes gentle against your face, “Is your line about me?”

Sighing, you crook your gaze to him for just a moment before grabbing your paper from him and placing both poems on his cluttered bedside table. You sit up, back against the wall, and thumbs fiddling in your lap, “Do you think I’m mean?”

Eddie’s face drops into something purely genuine for the first time in a long time. His brows knit towards the center of his eyes and his lashes flutter, gaze soft and gentle in a fashion you don’t know if you deserve. His head shakes almost automatically, far before his brain can even form a proper response. All he manages to spit out as he sits up is the most asinine,

“Never did,” you nod slowly and he rests a hand over your fidgeting ones. He squeezes and it feels bizarrely sweet, “Do you think I’m a freak?”

“Never,” you say.

“No?”

“No,” you promise. Finally, you grant Eddie the sugar of your eyes on his.

He likes the way you look at him - whether you’re bored or irritated or intrigued or upset or excited, he wants it all and he’d sit there through hell if it meant you’d just keep looking at him like you are now. So tender and considerate. He’s been captured since you first gave him this dedicated stare in Mr. Peters, he continues to obsess as you lay your head on his shoulder.

Heart in his throat, Eddie hears the blood throbbing through his ears in such buzzing silence. He feels you nuzzle ever closer and he’s been dreaming of this since he knew two people could even get this close and have it mean something.

The flowers he left in your locker throughout middle school and never owned up to, the notes on your desk in sophomore year’s shared classes that Higgins lectured him about every day, the music recommendations you never needed because he knew you already knew all the same bands he did. Everything was a reason to see you bright up - to have you see him as someone more than the boy that used to come in after recess smelling like pennies with an apple-red face. To be the boy you might want to go to movies with and sneak under bleaches with and hold hands in the hallway with. To be the boy you want just like you’re the girl he’s always prayed for (even though he was never particularly religious).

The silence will kill him if this close proximity to you doesn’t do it first, so Eddie ends it quickly.

“Wanna hear me playFade to Black?”

You don’t peel away completely, but your head knocks forward, one hand flying out from under his to clap over your mouth. You laugh, full-bodied and pure and he hasn’t seen you laugh like this since Corey Stiffmen sprained his wrist trying to show off in sixth-grade P.E.

Shaking your head, your lips are high and wide as you beam, hand smacking against your thigh and eyes narrowing in a tease, “You’re such a dork, Munson. Suggestingthatwhen we basically just admitted to being in love with each other.”

“Ah- !” his eyes spark, curls flailing as he shakes his head, other hand waving dismissively, “There was nothing about love in yours! Don’t try and trick me, princess, I know what I read.”

You sigh and kiss his cheek like it’s just that easy. He wishes he knew it was that easy. His cheeks flame rosy and you giggle louder at that, he takes it all in like you’re about to disappear.

“You really just wanna sit here and play guitar while you have a girl in your room?” you lean forward, knee bending up for you to rest your chin on. Eyes alight and beaming and he wants more because he’s always been greedy.

“I dunno,” he shrugs, overexaggerated and heavy, eyes rolling up to his water-stained ceiling before gracing your face again. The open window behind you casts one of those cartoony halos around your head - as if he didn’t already know you were the most divine thing in Indiana (perhaps the world), “I have vinegar and Coke, if you wanna put eggs in them like we did in seventh grade.”

It takes a second, and that second drags like glass over Eddie’s face, but as soon as it’s over you’re there with alcohol and gauze and sweet peels of laughter to make everything better. He joins your chuckling when the joke clicks, he squeezes the hand you still lay beneath his and moves his face closer.

Slow for you to back away if you wish to, but also absolutely praying that you don’t.

And you don’t.

Eddie takes the leap this time and he’s drunk on strawberry-flavored chapstick like every lovestruck romance novel character he swore he’d never be like. You smile into the kiss and he returns the gesture in kind - dimples and all. You always thought his dimples were cute, even when he had that dreaded buzzcut and stunk of his father’s cigars.

Now he stinks like his own cigarettes, and you almost hate how addicted you’ve become to the scent in such a short time. He tastes like cheap beer and pineapple juice.

You pull back, moving to sit up on your knees in front of Eddie, brows furrowed, “Pineapple?”

“Shut up,” he tosses his head back and scruffs his already tousled bangs, “I don’t think I’m gonna graduate this year,” he squeezes your hand again and this time, you squeeze back, “but at least I got a girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” your voice drags high, brow quirking. All faux, and you hope he knows that.

“Yeah, okay,” he huffs, gentle as he cups the length of your neck and brings you down for another fruit-smacked peck, hand slowly moving up to take your cheek in his palm.

He holds you like you’re precious and maybe for the first time in a long time, you actually feel that way.

You break the kiss again and he pouts, you speak before he can, “Don’t say that.”

“Say what? I was kissing you that whole time,” he smiles so big it's like one of those cheesy romance movies you always said you’d never fall for (and now you’re both suckers). Soft chocolate eyes solely on you, Eddie cheeses like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, “Don’t tell me we need to get you checked for head injury - I’d like to think everything here was a conscious choice of yours.”

“No, don’t say you won’t graduate,” you turn and twist to settle back into the curve of Eddie’s body against the wall. Your head against his and you spinning the chunky rings he’s collected on his thick fingers, “Because youwill. I believe in you, Munson, so don’t go wasting it.”

“Never,” he kisses your head, looks out the open window to spot a man standing on his porch in only his boxers, just a mere couple of trailers away, “But what if I don’t? What if I repeat?”

Shrugging, you look up at him now like he’s planted every sweet daisy that cups water for the fairies, “I’ll just keep believing in you.”

In a way, you’ve always believed in him. Even if you never said it - the insistence he plays in talent shows and consistently inquiring about his guitarist exploits, the belief was always there. You know Eddie has what it takes to be a star. The hair, the showmanship, the creativity, the skill, the x-factor. You’ve been to his shows - not that you’d really admit it to stroke his ego, but you’ve been and you justknow. He’s something special.

“You’re something special, Eddie Munson,” your eyes skim out to the man on his trailer porch and watch as he turns to his wife in the window. She laughs at him and beckons him inside and he listens without hesitation. They kiss in the doorway and he holds her like she’s the most expensive, most fragile, most perfect diamond in human history, “I don’t care if you don’t graduate at all - let alone later than me.”

“I want to graduate.”

For Wayne, most of all. The man worked hard to keep Eddie fed and clothed and safe and schooled, he wants to be able to display that diploma Wayne fought so hard for Eddie to have. Even if his uncle insists Eddie doesn’t owe him anything, Eddiewantsto give back. Not to get even or be out of some strange debt, but because giving back is the only way he knows how to really show Wayne he loves him. Words are easy, his uncle appreciates dedication and actions and Eddie knows that.

“Then you will,” you kiss his cheek and Eddie’s never smudging off the chapstick dew that lingers there, “And I’ll be there.”

“I haven’t even taken you on a date yet, pretty girl,” he hums, “We’ve got things all backward.”

“Well, I’m sure that after - what? - twelve years, you know my favorite spot,” and he does, “Take me there.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he kisses your forehead, already knowing that when Wayne got back home - he was going to chew his uncle’s ear off about this entire afternoon.

Eddie ended up getting 30th place in the poetry competition. Not nearly enough to pass English and graduate in the spring of 1984, and when he returned to Hawkins High as a senior that fall you were there in the morning at his trailer. Sending him off with a packed lunch and a kiss that never could’ve been long enough for him.

And when he doesn’t graduate in ‘85, you’re ready to take back every compliment you ever gave Mrs. O’Donnell and offering to take him to Starcourt and make fun of that new John Hughes movie together. You’re there consistently, and Eddie couldn’t care less about his GPA when he’s finally yours after twelve years of pining.

And only when he was returning for his third try at senior year, did you finally reveal that the private dick nutjob, Murray Bauman, sold you Possessed’s Seven Churches album for five bucks.

You’re terrible, he adores you.

~~ people i kiss on the forehead in hopes they enjoy this and if not, i apologize <3 @kitmon @chainsaw-man-inserts @indouloureux @latenightsimping @mantorokk-writes

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

A real change of pace... To cool off... Here's a hyperfixation of mine that dates waaaaay back, to when I was little...

THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE & FRIENDS...

I've been thinking about the show's third season (1991-92) lately, for some reason.

Season 3, as I had learned in the recent years, was filmed in two separate portions - unusual in that every season in the classic series (approximately Seasons 1-7, 1984-2003ish) was typically filmed in one go. Not Season 3, for whatever reason.

It's been speculated by some fans that a showcase of the many props in London sometime in late 1991 impacted the filming, thus newer sets were built to accommodate the last portion of episodes. Maybe something else came up. Maybe something pertaining to the Japanese special THOMAS AND THE U.K. TRIP. Who knows...

And upon knowing the season's production history, you can't unsee it...

The first portion of Season 3, first released all at once on VHS - albeit with alternate, earlier narrations from Michael Angelis - in the UK in November 1991:

vs.

The second portion, aired in the spring/summer of 1992:

I kind of look at Season 3 as the coziest one. If Season 1 had a more pastoral, simplistic look with a chuffy synthesized soundtrack, and if Season 2 had a more dirty, sooty, industrial look... Season 3 is bright, colorful, cute, just warm and cozy really. Especially the nighttime scenes, which are real standouts here. Glossy models and softer faces constructed for the engine characters, too.

The music, composed by Mike O'Donnell and Junior Campbell, is what holds the season together - tonally, along with Angelis' narrations - or George Carlin's, if you grew up with the U.S. version like I did.

Sets in Season 3, Part 1 included the likes of Henry's Forest in addition to a lot of countryside paths, and a much more spacious beach. Knapford is the big station here, while Tidmouth is the big station in Part 2. The roundhouse interior is a real giveaway, too. Season 3, Part 2 seems a little greener, you have the the three-way set (bottom left), those big harbor buildings (top right), and the castle tunnel. Whatever the story called for, they built it: A scrapyard that Oliver escapes from, the China Clay Works, Bulgy's bridge, etc. Even without their major sets, they still made up for it with the new ones.

It's still quite cohesive and distinctively season 3, but someone like me? I notice the minute differences. You can easily tell which episode is 3A, or 3B.

Season 3 is one that I didn't have much of on VHS growing up in the late '90s/early '00s. I had seen pretty much all of them via tape volumes I rented back in the day, or through SHINING TIME STATION when it returned to air in 2000 to promote the movie. SHINING TIME, the show that essentially trojanhorsed THOMAS onto American airwaves. The VHS tapes... Particularly the volumes "Thomas Gets Bumped", "Daisy", and "Percy's Ghostly Trick". All grab-bags of episodes from the first three seasons - but they had those Season 3 episodes I often couldn't come by. They were elusive in a way because of that. Everything else I saw was via a compilation tape, like "Thomas' Christmas Party" and "10 Years of Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends".

And years later, I would be surprised to learn that an episode like 'Henry's Forest' was from that period - it feels like it could be a stealth Season 2 episode, albeit a calmer and less industrial-looking one. Maybe because it was on the aforementioned Christmas tape, my brain - as a 7-year-old kid - placed it in that era. Ditto 'A Scarf for Percy'. When I got a little bit older, I was able to place - sort of aesthetically - where each episode fell. A skim through IMDb would also help. Most I could reckon were from the '80s, and the rest from the early-to-mid '90s. Even with George Carlin narrating the majority of them.

Something about those episodes hit different to me when I was little, for sure, so I have a bit of an odd soft spot for them despite how I feel about that season overall. I think SHINING TIME's aesthetics and look also helps. I watched STS whenever it was on, as a really young kid circa 1995-96ish? I would remember asking "Why do the trains have faces? But no cowcatchers?" Then it was just the Thomas stories on VHS after that. I wouldn't really check out STS again until reruns came to Nick Jr., again, to promote THOMAS AND THE MAGIC RAILROAD - which Shining Time Station itself was a big part of. And yet my head links that season and STS, more so than 1 & 2. The coziness of both, the nostalgic American train station setting of STS and the comfy visuals of Season 3, just goes together quite nicely. Throw in some unrelated other things I loved back then, and that's one of my nostalgia cocktails in a way lol.

[marmiteprinter]

It's high time for an updated view of the neighbourhood as I've added a few lots since the last time a few rounds ago.

There will still be a bit more expansion in Round 11, as I have plans to build a cemetery (now that we have need of one 😢) on the road leading off to the left as well as another town-owned rental lot - provided there are sufficient town funds available - and I will of course be adding a University.

Anyway, let's have a round summary (under the cut)!

🌷Round 10 - Spring 3 - Summary🌷

🌷Families Hansen-Wiggins Hudson O'Donnell O' Donnell II Turner Rossellini Rossellini II Rossellini-Turner Barnes Neetor-Blondeau Neetor Phillips Grimsbane Reid Phillips II Phillips-Saunders Volden Lopez Matthews Matthews II Sanderson Basic Training 🌷Population 832 (Multiplier x 13) 🌷Unlocked Military Career University Private School (provided Sims give a $1000 donation and successfully complete the Headmaster scenario) 1 Position in Paranormal 12 2 5 CAS Sims + 5 YA CAS Sims 🌷Relationship Changes Elliott Hansen-Wiggins x Estelle Blondeau (Going Steady) Gracie O'Donnell x Jonty Sawyer (Engaged) Evan O'Donnell x Kenya Bryant (Married) Talia Rossellini x Freddie Reeves (Broke Up) Stephen Neetor x Charlie O'Donnell (Married) Nimue Grimsbane x Thomas Reid (Married) Conrad Phillips x Felicity Saunders (Divorced) Oliver Matthews x Freddie Reeves (Dated but Stayed Friends) Daisy Hudson x Marco Colasanto (Married) Vance Bridger x Oliver Matthews (Dating) 🌷Nooboos Born Rigel Rossellini Flynn Rossellini Cecilia Neetor Isadora Grimsbane Natalie Reid Sierra Lopez Gunner Sanderson 🌷Deaths Ramona O'Donnell Thomas Reid 🌷Community Lots: 18 Birch Alley Playground Kyle's Craftables (Owned by Kyle O'Donnell) Rank 7 Rossellini's Robotics (Owned by Pietro Rossellini) Rank 7 PlantSim Produce (Owned by Ash Hudson) Rank 8 Witchy Wearables (Owned by Iris Grimsbane) Rank 5 Monique's Miniatures (Owned by Monique Wiggins) Rank 5 Conrad's Curios (Owned by Conrad Phillips) Rank 6 Grilled Cheese Diner (Owned by Talia Rossellini) Rank 6 Wildflats Peninsula School (Part-Owned by Beth Neetor) Rank 6 Wildflats Peninsula Fire Station Main Street Park Wildflats Peninsula Town Hall Tiki Bar (Owned by Evan O'Donnell) Rank 4 Wildflats Peninsula Police Department Art Gallery (Owned by Charlie O'Donnell) Rank 1 Wildflats Peninsula Lido Market Stall - Appliances (Owned by Octavia Neetor) Rank 0 Market Stall - Cars (Owned by Horacio Lopez) Rank 0 [Main Street Apartments]* *Not really a community lot, but owned by the town and rent goes into the tax pot.

[introvertedmouse]

Daydreamer 2

Daisy sat in her usual seat in Ms O'Donnell's history class and listened as the older woman droned on about the civil war in such a monotone voice it was little wonder many of her classmates appeared to be dozing off.

Looking out the window to her left, Daisy stared longingly at the greenery of the nearby forest, wishing she could be outside in the fresh air, free to think about, dream about, anything she chose.

Instead, she dragged her attention back into the room. The teacher had taken to using words that were far too complex for high school, almost like she was trying to make it more difficult for the less studious to take it all in.

Then, O'Donnell subtlely smirked towards the back of the room.  Daisy turned her head and noticed the frown of concentration on his hansome face, the smirk suddenly making sense.  The woman was taking pleasure from his struggles. Daisy bit her tongue for a moment, lest she say exactly what was on her mind. She turned back to look at her desk before raising her hand.

"Yes Miss Henderson, can I help you?" O'Donnell droned out. Daisy took a deep breath and spoke "so, just to clarify, you are reiterating what is in the textbook, just with more complex language? I mean, there is no new information? I just want to make sure I haven’t missed anything?"

Janice O'Donnell was many things, but usually not cruel, so she felt called out by this girl, who was very quiet usually.  This mouse of a girl was defending the boy struggling at the back of the room and maintaining eye contact with the authority figure in the room as she did so.  Feeling chastened, Janice told the class that was exactly right and that for the rest of the class they could read the text on their own, unable to keep eye contact with the girl.

The boy at the back of the class, watched the exchange between the two with something akin to awe.  Eddie had been going between trying to find just one word that the old bat was saying within the textbook, and sneaking glances at the angel by the window when he heard her ask her question. He was stunned to see the standoff that followed and more so that it was the teacher that broke first.  When they had been told to read quietly he dared a look towards the windows only to see her already looking towards him. She blushed, and shot him a smile, which he returned, before mouthing "thank you". This caused her to duck back down into her textbook, but a slight smile remained.

[whamicon]

characters/actors

full masterlist

cameron james (joseph gordon levitt) 10 things i hate about you

clare devlin (nicola coughlan) derry girls

orla mccool (louisa harland) derry girls

james maguire (dylan llewellyn) derry girls

michelle mallon (jamie-lee o'donnell) derry girls

erin quinn (saoirse monica jackson) derry girls

finnick odair (sam claflin) the hunger games

louise grant (teal rednann) gilmore girls

raphina (lucy boynton) sing street

peter parker (tom holland) spiderman: far from home

romeo, juliet, & mercutio (leonardo dicaprio, claire danes, harold perrineau) romeo + juliet 1996

kim kelly (busy phillips) freaks and geeks

jenny (michelle trachtenberg) eurotrip

michelle trachtenberg II

zendaya

zendaya II

zendaya III

zendaya IV (2022 emmys)

zendaya V (2022 emmys)

zendaya VI

monica rambeau (teyonah paris) wandavision

emma woodhouse (anya taylor joy) emma

ryan and mingi (johnny young & sekai murashige) infinity train

cruella (emma stone) cruella

suzy bishop (kaya hayward) moonrise kingdom

hunter schafer

hunter schafer II

zion moreno

madelyn cline

harley quinn (margot robbie) the suicide squad

zoë kravitz

timothèe chalamet

timothèe chalamet II

druig & makkari (barry keoghan & lauren ridloff) eternals

sadie sink as Her in the All Too Well: The Short Film

leighton murray (renee rap) the sex lives of college girls

sydney sweeney

sydney sweeney II

emma stone

storm reid

hoyeon jung

hoyeon jung II

camila morrone

camila morrone / camila dunne daisy jones & the six

yasmine finney

amber heard

amber heard II

amber heard III

amber heard IV

margot robbie on set for barbie

margot robbie II

michaela coel

marianne renoir (anna karina) pierrot le fou

pamela anderson

lisa (monica bellucci) the apartment

elle fanning

emerald (keke palmer) nope

poison ivy batman: the animated series

elizabeth olsen

daisy edgar jones

daisy edgar jones II

taylor russell

gillian owens (nicole kidman) practical magic

jenna ortega

millie bobby brown

alexa demie

alexa demie II

gene belcher bob’s burgers

kate winslet

yaya (charlbi dean) triangle of sadness

rory gilmore (alexis bledel) gilmore girls

young queen charlotte (india amarteifio) queen charlotte: a bridgerton story

daphne moon (jane leeves) frasier

jessica alexander

ayo edebiri

savannah smith

cillian murphy

gillian anderson

havana rose liu

mimi keene

jaz sinclair

priscilla presley (cailee spaeny) priscilla

jennifer lawrence

lucy gray baird (rachel zegler) the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes

gwyneth paltrow

lily gladstone

katniss everdeen (jennifer lawrence) the hunger games series

kiera knightley

avantika

vivian oparah

jodie foster

nicola coughlan

nicole kidman

kirsten dunst

lea seydoux

anne wiazemsky

olivia cooke

emma myers

anya taylor-joy

[sarahjoank-theatre]

in the Eye of the

in the Eye of the (after The Tempest)

Written (with cast) and Directed by Sarah Joan K

Samuel Beckett Theatre, 2022

Ro - Keziah Keenan O'Shea

Miranda / Chorus - Daisy Gambles

Anthony / Chorus- Luan Rogers

Ferdia / Chorus - Doug Morrison

Alannah / Chorus - Gracie Shearer

Caliban - Leah Coughlan

Ariel - Beth Strahan

Production Manager - Deirbhile Mylod

Stage Management - Matthew Moran

Assistant Stage Management - Alice Hennessey

Producer: Laura Pendlebury

Set Design - Seirce Mhac Conghail

Assistant Set Design - Lara Prideux

Costume - Eimear Hussey

Puppet Design - Caelinn Ni Bhroinn

Wardrobe - Megan Flynn

Assistant Costume - Kate Fehilly

Sound Design - Daniel Montague O'Brien

Sound Assistant - Ebony Haberlin

Lighting Design: Emer Tyrell

Assistant Lighting: Cillian O'Donnell

Publicity photography: Sarah Joan K

Poster Design: Vanessa Nunan

Production + Rehearsal Photography and Publicity: Lucy Holmes

[thebridgehqs]

The following muses have a week to post or message the main for an extension:

@dancngthroughlife -  Two on Pepper Potts and Evie Grimhilde One on Erin Hannon, Jessica Day and Kelly Aldrich

@fidclium -  Two on Caitriona O'Donnell, Cillian Finnigan, Demetrius Duke, Henry Mills, Mateo Alvarez & Poseidon

@writtcninthestars -  One on Addison Wells, Dewey Duck & Lizzie Saltzman

@champagneprblms - One on Samantha Giddings

@firewvlk -  Two on Ava Silva, Daisy Johnson, Laurie Strode, Steve Harrington. One on Atreus, Bigby Wolf, Cal Kestis, Ciri, Hunter, John B, Josh Washington, Selene, Shaggy Rogers

@hxlcycnx - One on Olive Smith

@virtuousouls - Two on Eros

@allxthingsxglxtter -  Two on Adam Carlsen, Alex Mercer, Angrboda, Aurelia Gunner, Billy, Bryce Claiborne, Calanthe, Ember Cobalt, Lady, Levi Sullivan, Lisa Snart, Rhys Adler, Sirius Black. Yvette Calahaan. One on Aether, Caitlyn Kiramman, Caradoc Duke, Carter Kazansky, Coriane Calore, Dane Whitman, Dean Winchester, Dev Dakkar, Hugo De Rune, Jacen Solo, Jason Todd, Jess Seresin, Kai Whitlock, Khonsu, Luc, Maelstrom Adler, Maeve, Merrin, Neil Vikander, Randall Carpio, Raya, Sapphire, Shaun Gilmore, Spider, Teddy Lupin, Viktor

[gilmoregirlscult]

Season 1, Episode 2

"The Lorelais' First Day At Chilton"

In the opening scene, Lane runs in the Gilmores' house with her new CD. It's Wasp Star (Apple Venus Volume 2) by the English rock band XTC, released in the 20th of May, 2000.

Next morning, it's Rory's first day at her new school. Chilton is a very imposing building and Rory says she remembers it being smaller and less "off with their heads". The Queen of Hearts is a fictional character and the main antagonist in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. One of her most famous lines is "Off with his/her head!" / "Off with their heads!"

Lorelai says "I'm trying to see if there's a Hunchback in that tower", comparing it to the Notre-Dame Cathedral, in reference to the 1831 French gothic novel by Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame.

Rory wants Lorelai to go with her, but she thinks she's not dressed properly. The Dukes of Hazzard is an American action comedy television series that aired on CBS from 1979 to 1985. The show is about two cousins, Bo and Luke Duke, who live in rural Georgia. Their cousin, Daisy Duke, is "that chick" Lorelai is referencing, since she's wearing jeans and cowboy boots. There are more cowgirl comparisons, from Rory proclaiming she didn't know the rodeo was in town, to Emily later asking her if her horse is parked out front and saying "no spurs please" to Friday night dinner.

Rory says she wants to be like Christiane Amanpour, a British-Iranian journalist and television host. From 1992 to 2010, (so at the time) Amanpour was CNN's chief international correspondent. Headmaster Charleston - condescendingly - mentions Cokie Roberts (American journalist and author, at the time a reporter for ABC News), Oprah (producer and host of The Oprah Winfrey Show), Rosie O'Donnell (at the time, host of her daytime talk show The Rosie O'Donnell Show) and the talkshow The View (an American talk show that aired on ABC as part of the network's daytime programming block since 1997) and asks "And to be a part of something big you have to be on TV?" clearly taking the tv-host part to heart, thinking that Rory just wants to be a reporter.

In the same scene, Rory says "And I was in the German Club for a while, but there were only three of us, and then two left for the French Club after seeing Schindler’s List, so..."

Schindler's List is a 1993 American historical drama film directed and produced by Steven Spielberg. It is based on the 1982 novel Schindler's Ark by Thomas Keneally. Based on real life events, it tells the story of Oskar Schindler, a German Nazi Party member who unexpectedly became a World War II hero after saving hundreds of Jews from Auschwitz.

Later, Louise calls Rory a Dixie Chick cause she's from Stars Hollow. The Dixie Chicks, now known as The Chicks, are an American country band from Dallas.

Miss Patty is teaching a class of baton twirling to the patriotic American march The Stars and Stripes Forever. It was written and composed by John Philip Sousa in 1896.

Lit class at Chilton comes with many brief references, including the Russian writers Leo Tolstoy and Fyodor Dostoevsky, English novelist Charles Dickens and French novelists George Sand (whose full name was Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil) and Honoré de Balzac.

Two of Tolstoy's novels, War and Peace and Anna Karenina, are mentioned, the latter considered to be one of the greatest works of literature ever written. David Copperfield, Great Expectations, A Tale of Two Cities and Little Dorrit are all novels by Charles Dickens.

At the inn, Lorelai tells Sookie, "I was supposed to look together and fabulous, and not like I’d been up all night playing quarters." Quarters is a drinking game which involves players bouncing an American quarter or similar-size coin off a table in an attempt to have the quarter land in a certain place, usually into a shot glass or cup on said table.

Lorelai asks Drella to play the harp softer, to which she replies "Hey, do I look like I got Panasonic stamped on my ass?", meaning she's not a stereo whose volume you can adjust, since Panasonic is a Japanese multinational company that makes consumer's electronics.

Miss Patty says to the girls in her dance class: "Now walk smooth that's the new Harry Potter on your heads, if they should drop Harry would die and there won't be any more books". At the time, the "new" Harry Potter was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, published in early July 2000.

We learn that Lorelai and Rory have dial-up internet access, when Emily tries to install a DSL at their house. A DSL, or Digital subscriber line, is a family of technologies that are used to transmit digital data over telephone lines. In telecommunications marketing and in this episode, the term DSL is understood to mean asymmetric digital subscriber line (ADSL), the most commonly installed DSL technology, for internet access.

The guy installing it is called Mick and played by Sean Gunn, who will later be renamed and become the regular character Kirk Gleason instead.

Lorelai says her problems are nothing Shakespear couldn't turn into a really good play. William Shakespear was an English playwright and a common theme in his tragedies is the idea of family.

"The Romanists have, with great adroitness, drawn three walls round themselves, with which they have hither to protected themselves, so that no one could reform them, whereby all Christendom has fallen terribly."

Rory’s history class is studying the German theologican Martin Luther, who was a seminal figure in the Protestant Reformation. His theological beliefs form the basis of Lutheranism. The teacher quotes from Luther’s tract To the Christian Nobility of the German Nation (1520).

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy", often shortened to "all work and no play", is an old proverb that means without time off from work, a person becomes both bored and boring. It was newly popularized after the phrase was featured in The Shining, the 1980 psychological horror film produced and directed by Stanley Kubrick that Lorelai is referencing. The movie is based on Stephen King's 1977 novel of the same name.

As Lorelai explains, Tristan has been calling Rory "Mary" because of the Virgin Mary, meaning that she looks like a goody-goody, a virgin. She adds that if, in the guys' opinion, she looked like a slut, they'd probably call her Mary Magdalene instead. She was a woman who, according to the four canonical gospels, traveled with Jesus as one of his followers and was a witness to His crucifixion and resurrection. In popular culture, she is often viewed as a sinful woman and portrayed as a prostitute.

"Wow, biblical inslults, this is an advanced school!"

"Do you want me to talk to anybody? A parent, a teacher, a big guy named Moose?" Lorelai is refering to Marmaduke "Moose" Mason a fictional character in the Archie Comics universe. He was originally created to serve as the personification and stereotype of the jock and as such, he's strong, athletic and often protects his friends from bullies.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Results of Smash Bros Sexyman Tournament: Round 1!

Mario v. DK: Mario victory! (vanilla iss a great flavor too!)

Link v. Samus: Samus victory! (don't worry, they're still in love and still smooch.)

Dark Samus v. Yoshi: Dark Samus victory! (what did you expect on the gay and want to be stepped on be evil women site?)

Fox McCloud v. Luigi: Luigi Victory! (pathetic men enjoyerss defeat furries, more at eleven)

Captain Falcon v. Princess Peach: Princess Peach victory! (Yeah, Falcon was too conventionally attractive to win.)

Princess Daisy v. Bowser: Princess Daisy victory! (I'm kinda disappointed in the monster fuckers)

Sheik v. Princess Zelda: Sheik victory! (never trust anyone, not even yourself)

Dr. Mario v. Falco Lombardi: Falco victory! (and the furries finally pull through!)

Marth v. Lucina: Lucina victory! (And Girl Marth wins!)

Ganondorf v. Mewtwo: Ganondorf victory! (you're falling behind furries)

Roy v. Chrom: Chrom victory! (Melee fans, I am so disappointed in you girlies.)

Mr. Game and Watch v. Meta Knight: Meta Knight victory! (coughing baby v. nuclear bomb)

Zero Suit Samus v. Wario: Zero Suit Samus victory! (It occurs to me that maybe my roster building skills are imbalanced....)

Solid Snake v. Ike: Snake victory! (Well I suppose Snake is more pathetic than Ike...)

Sonic v. King Dedede: King Dedede victory! (Dededivorce here we come!)

Olimar v. Lucario: Lucario victory! (Theeeeerrrrre the furries are.)

R.O.B. v. Wolf O'Donnell: Wolf victory! (Poor robo-fuckers.)

Wii Fit Trainer v. Princess Rosalina: Rosalina victory! (I don't have a joke for this one)

Little Mac v. Greninja: Little Mac victory! (Mac-Mains are here to win, baby!)

Robin v. Robyn: Robyn victory! (Big fan of women)

Palutena v. Pac-Man: Palutena victory! (Another nuclear bomb v. coughing baby.)

Shulk v. Ryu: Shulk victory! (Shulk nation rise up!)

Ken v. Cloud: Cloud victory! (sad trauma boi beats sad rich boi)

Corrin v. Corrine: Corrine victory! (Big fan of women 2)

Bayonetta v. Terry Bogard: Bayonetta victory! (Yeah... this one wasn't remotely fair.)

Ridley v. Simon: Ridley victory! (Thhhheeeerrrreeee the Monster Fuckers are)

Richter v. King K Rool: Richter victory! (Aaaannnnd there they go.)

Isabelle v. Incineroar: Isabelle Victory! (Devour him alive Izzy.)

Piranha Plant v. Joker: Joker victory! (I'm kinda mad the plant lost, woulda been funnier if he'd won.)

Hero v. Banjo: Banjo victory! (Can't tell if this is the meme lords or furries)

Byleth v. Bealyn: Bealyn victory! (big fan of women 3)

Sephiroth v. Kazuya: Sephiroth victory! ("I will never be a memory.")

And that's Round One! Round Two coming soon!

[leanstooneside]

The Matrix (FASCIA)

ROSIE O'DONNELL'S VINYL FIST

ALICIA SILVERSTONE'S BOHEMIAN HEAD

JAKE PAVELKA'S DOTTED ANKLE

DEAN MCDERMOTT'S PRICIER TOE

MIRA SORVINO'S SMOTHERED BREAST

LAUREN GRAHAM'S SUNSHINE TOE

JESSICA CHASTAIN'S CAREFREE ELBOW

SOFÍA VERGARA'S SIMPLISTIC BREAST

EDIE FALCO'S PROLIFIC SHOULDER

JOE FRANCIS'S PICTURESQUE WRIST

JULIANNE MOORE'S UPPITY TOE

SCOTT SPEEDMAN'S INTERPRETED HAND

CAREY MULLIGAN'S LUSTY TOE

B.J. NOVAK'S RAZED FOREHEAD

RICK SALOMON'S DOZEN NOSTRIL

JASON MESNICK'S SCHEMING EYEBROW

LO BOSWORTH'S NITROUS KNEE

BRAD PAISLEY'S ANSWERABLE UPPER ARM

PARIS HILTON'S STICKY EYELASH

JESSE JAMES'S SHORT-LIVED LOWER LEG

RACHEL BILSON'S ESOTERIC EAR

BRIDGET MOYNAHAN'S ONE-YEAR NOSTRIL

PINK'S SLEEPLESS HIP

TIGER WOODS'S EVERGREEN LIP

JOHN STAMOS'S SCATTERING CHEEK

MAGGIE GYLLENHAAL'S SYNCHRONIZED TONGUE

SAMMI GIANCOLA'S GOLD-PLATED ARM

BLAKE SHELTON'S NORTH SHOULDER

JOEL MADDEN'S PULLED CALF

GARY SHIRLEY'S INTOLERABLE ANKLE

WINONA RYDER'S AWAKE ELBOW

KEVIN DURANT'S DEPARTED CHIN

BRITTANY SNOW'S MOLECULAR ARM

CAMILA ALVES'S INTUITIVE HAIR

JESSICA SZOHR'S FRAGRANT CHIN

LEE DEWYZE'S SYNONYMOUS FIST

NATASHA RICHARDSON'S THREATENING ARM

LAUREN CONRAD'S ANTIRETROVIRAL FOREARM

MICHELLE TRACHTENBERG'S UNFAZED UPPER ARM

HUGH GRANT'S TERRAN FOOT

TERI HATCHER'S VERSED BREAST

LEIGHTON MEESTER'S ORDINATE NOSE

DANIELLE STAUB'S SUSPENDED ARM

TAYLOR SWIFT'S TAILED CHIN

SANDRA BULLOCK'S PULLED LIP

DAISY DE LA HOYA'S PASTEL KNEE

JAMES WOODS'S RESULTANT WAIST

KEVIN CONNOLLY'S CONCEDING HIP

NAOMI WATTS'S PROLIFIC ANKLE

CHRISTIAN SLATER'S COMPROMISING EYEBROW