#if you pick other and you say a character from an anime I'm not gonna know who you're talking about sorry

[violetarks]

"they don't love me like you do!"

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

summary: despite the countless valentines day offers he receives, satoru will only ever accept one confession. but you're confessing... to his best friend?

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, high school! au

"please accept these chocolates, gojo!" says the girl in front of him. satoru casually pulls down his glasses enough to see the red, heart-shaped cardboard box.

"oh, uh... thank you." he awkwardly says. this girl was two year below him, judging by the colours of her indoor shoes. he didn't even know her name. "this is... a surprise."

"i've liked you ever since orientation day. i hope you like these." she says with a nervous grin. she's stiff as he takes them out of her hands, standing up straight to stare at the tall man. "thank you for always being so funny and helping everyone you can."

"ah, you're welcome." he says, tucking the chocolates and the letter taped to it under his arm. luckily, the lunch bell had rung and everyone should've been off to enjoy their break. "well, i'll... see you around."

"b—bye, gojo!" she calls, waving at him as he walks the other way. he gives a kind smile before he turns the corner, dropping it immediately.

on the way to class, multiple other students watched him as he carelessly skimmed through the letter before stuffing it in his book bag, ready to throw it (and the others) away once home. valentines day was this week and it was two days before it today. yet satoru had received tons of confession letters and date proposals, none of which he had the intention of accepting.

plopping down in his chair, he groans, hanging his head, "ugh! i hate being so loveable..."

suguru rolls his eyes, outting his book down. "here we go again." he grunts, shaking his head.

"seriously! why can't i be left alone around valentines day?" he questions out lout, pulling his lunch box from his bag.

shoko bites into her sandwich as she listens to him. as she swallows, she retorts, "maybe it's because you flirt with every living being on earth." satoru sends him a pointed look. "so how many letters today?"

"seven." satoru responds, knocking his bag.

"and?"

"none of them were from y/n." he sighs out, picking up his chopsticks.

"wait, y/n?" suguru pipes up, putting his juicebox down, "as in y/n from class d?"

the blue-eyed boy raises a brow, halting his movements. "uh, yeah? l/n y/n." he recalls to his friend, tilting his head, "what? i've been talking about 'em for the past three months—suguru, have you been listening to me at all?"

"oh!" the dark-haired boy chuckles, nodding his head, "i know y/n. we're in the same literature class."

satoru stares at him in disbelief. the other students surrounding them are in their own little world, but the three of them didn't even mind them hearing if they tried. shoko continues to eat her food while suguru shrugs at his friend.

"are you kidding me?" satoru gasps out, waving a hand in the air, "i've been trying to get with them for three months and you tell me this just now?"

"you should've been more specific, man." suguru retorts, waving it off, "anyway, you gonna' ask them to be your valentine?"

satoru sighs loudly, hanging his head back, "i don't know... we only share bio together, i bet there's a lot of people who have asked them to be their valentine. they probably won't even accept mine."

shoko purses her lips and stretches her arms. "i don't know about that." she claims, "you're a pretty guy and everyone knows you. i doubt they'd pass up the chance to revel in that popularity."

"... thanks, shoko."

soon enough, the bell rings and the day goes on.

the next day, satoru notices something in your hand during biology class.

"whatchu' got there, y/n?" he asks, peaking over your shoulder. he sat behind you, enough room to see the handwritten letter you were writing.

"satoru!" you jump a little, covering the page. he furrows his brow. "it's, uh... i'm just writng something."

"is it... for valentines day tomorrow?" he inquires, curious to who was the lucky person. but you were still hiding it from him!

"no, of course not." you were lying, he could tell by the way you look to the left. a pout falls on his lips. "it's notes. for another class."

"oh... okay." he responds, a bit disappointed. why would you lie to him? he sits back in his chair, writing down some paragraphs from the textbook mindlessly. he saw the way your elbow quickly shifted, you were writing faster. your head was down too, never looking up. you were so concentrated.

he's known you for a couple of months now. you bumped into him on the way to school, and you admitted to him that you were a bit lost since you didn't live around here. satoru, being the gentleman he is, offered to escort you. you thought he was some creep (he tried reaching to hold your hand and when you jerked away on instinct, he played it off as it being the wind).

but once realising you two shared some classes together, you grew fond of him. you knew of the countless students throwing themselves at him. both older and younger. he was the school heartthrob. it's a shame though, only your smile could make his heart race like he makes others do.

when you gave him your lucky pen when he told you he didn't study and he was freaking out, you had this kind smile that made him think 'i don't want anyone else to see this but me'.

and he noticed that you awkwardly took it back from him, looking away as he clasped your hands tightly in the filled hallway and thanked you. your reactions were just the cutest...

when the bell rings, you perk up, putting your 'notes' in a suspicious looking envelope and signing it off with something. you stand up and satoru is quick to walk by your side when a classmates holds his arm to talk.

"huh?" satoru grunts, furrowed brows.

"gojo, i... i wanted to give you this." they say, holding out a teddy-bear saying 'be my valentine!'. satoru frowned when he took it. "you don't have to answer today... just let me know tomorrow, please."

as they continue to talk, he sees you exit the classroom. the letter sits comfortably in your palm, and you look left, right, before walking off. satoru is electrified.

"okay, thanks!" he says, running out of the classroom while he clutches the bear in his hands.

weaving through the crowd, he looks for the top of your head. after more and more people pass him, staring at the teddy and whispering 'who gave that to him this time?', he spots you turning the corner, a nervous look on your face. he mutters out apologies as he bumps into people heading to their next class.

the hallway you're in now is empty. you stand in front of a classroom door, waiting. notably, suguru's math class.

satoru stands at the end of the corridor, behind the corner, as the classroom door opens to reveal his best friend, geto suguru.

"suguru!" you call, smile. your shoulders are straightened, you hold the letter in front of you. not scared to show him...

"oh, y/n, hey." he responds, grinning as well. the comfortability around you two was so strange to see. "what's up?"

satoru feels like he's buzzing out. he can't hear everything you're saying, but you look a bit excited yet anxious. he hears your sweet voice speak to his best friend with such kindness that he's jealous. sure, suguru was attactive and nice and he definitely didn't feed into the popularity like satoru did, but...

why did it have to be you who was interested in him?

"please, take this." you say, handing him the same letter you had before. except this time, satoru sees the 'g.s' on it. 'geto suguru'. and you take out a box of his favourite snacks to hand to him. "thank you for everything, again. you're the best."

suguru takes it with ease, seeing how you looked at him. his gaze softens as he takes the treat as well. "you're welcome, y/n. anything you need, i'll help with." he puts the letter in his own bag before slinging am arm around your shoulders. "now, what're your plans for after?"

he was blatantly asking you out now! right after satoru told him he had feelings for you! such betrayal!

you two walk to the other end of the hallway, in the direction of your literature class. satoru slumps against the wall, furrowed brows and lips pressed into a thin line. after a second, he pushes his glasses up and lets out a slow exhale. he could get over this...

"gojo! may i please have a moment of your time?"

"wait no! me first!"

"gojo, can i talk to you?"

"please accept these!"

or maybe he couldn't.

valentines day was today and you danced into school with such confidence. you had a bouquet of flowers in your arms, chocolates of the sweetest kinds, and a bag of new perfume that you knew your crush would like.

you were so excited.

satoru, who was walking a few people behind you, was not.

he saw the amount of passion you put into the holiday, and it made him sick to know it was for his best friend. the guys was in such a bad mood, he ignored suguru and shoko's calls this morning to meet up and walk to school together like usual.

satoru clicked his tongue, thinking about how dramatic the whole valentines day idea was. really, who needed it all anyway?

in homeroom, he can hear your class (which is next to his, across the hall) start whooping and cheering when you walk in. and he knows it's you by the chants of your last name being heard. he sits in his chair in anguish.

"satoru, morning. finally." shoko says, sitting down as well. she grins, bitting the popsicle stick between her lips. "where are all of your valentines presents?"

"stuffed in my shoe locker and under my desk." he claimed, opening the top of it to showcase the blaring red and pink gifts. she picked at one pocky box, munching on the biscuits. "how about you?"

"i got a couple letters and cookies in my locker." she claims, shrugging her shoulders, "lots of 'em are from the badminton team. i don't know why."

satoru shrugs as well as soon as suguru sits down in front of him. the blue-eyed students scoffs, looking away.

"good morning, satoru." he says, noticing his friend's behaviour, "what's got his panties in a twist this morning? does he know we called him a hundred times?"

"i dunno'." shoko says, looking out the window to the school garden. "ask him."

"satoru, what's wrong? didn't get enough presents this year?" he teases, leaning in his chair to poke his head, "wake up late?"

but satoru angrily swats his hand away. the raven-haire boy blinks curiously before satoru glares at him. "why didn't you tell me you were interested in y/n?" he asks, hurt.

shoko looks back to the two boys, seeing suguru just as confused as she is. "you're into y/n?"

"what? no! who said that?" suguru retorts, hands up in defense, "i'm not interested in dating y/n, swear on my life."

"that's a lie!" satoru accuses, pointing a finger against his friend's nose, "shoko, i saw him and y/n all... all... familiar yesterday after period 2! he had his arm around them!"

"suguru..." shoko warns.

"wait wait, that's—you got it all wrong." suguru groans, now understanding. he digs through his bag and pulls out a piece of paper. "here. open it."

satoru pushes away the paper reading 'g.s'. "no way! i'm not reading y/n's love letter to you!"

"ugh! just open it!" suguru grunts, shoving it onto his desk.

satoru begrudgingly takes it and gently opens the letter, not wanting to rip it. once his eyes fall upon the page, he confirms that it's your handwriting.

'thank you for being the sweetest boy to me. i am truly honoured to know such a beautiful person, inside and out.'

satoru wants to barf.

'sitting near you in biology really helped me to understand you, satoru. you're not only a pretty face, but a world-class sweet tooth, a sucker for romantic cliches and a cologne-collector.'

satoru thinks this is the most beautiful thing he's ever read.

he contiues to read, expression changing, letting shoko and suguru understand his thoughts. the girl looks to the other boy, who shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes.

"i'm confused." shoko states, tilting her head.

"y/n isn't confessing to me, they're confessing—"

"y/n is confessing to me! me, satoru!" satoru exclaims, waving the letter around like a maniac. everyone else in the class was suddenly a listener, peaking at the trio. they were interested in finding out what the one confession that resulted in this reaction was. "oh my god, oh my god!"

suguru nods his head. placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "yes, yes, they are. i was meant to give you the letter this morning to read before homeroom, but someone was pissy." he scoffs, shaking his head, "so i had to go and tell y/n that plans had changed."

"you... helped y/n plan this all out?" satoru mumbles, "but you didn't even know!"

shoko chuckles, staring out the window again.

"i just said i wasn't paying attention so you didn't think i was snooping. which i was. and i only told you i knew y/n so you wouldn't get any ideas, like this." suguru circles the air with his finger, deadpanning at the clueless satoru, "you think anyone would do this without definitive proof the other person liked them?"

satoru continues to read the letter you wrote for him before his eyes land on the ending. "'please meet me at the school fountain before homeroom ends.'" he murmurs out, blinking, "suguru—"

"you were meant to go two minutes ago." his friend sings out, standing in front of shoko's desk. he points out the window, much like other students were doing in their own classrooms. "you should..."

when his friends turn around to him, satoru is already one foot out of the door. he's rushing downstairs (down three flights of stairs, actually) with your letter clutched in his hand. he almost flies into a couple teachers on the way to the garden, only for their attention to be caught by students opening the windows and pointing outside.

when he rushed through the doors to the garden, you're staring at the floor, still holding the flowers and gifts you brought to school with you. taking a moment to gather himself, satoru runs fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses. the pair you've complimented a thousand times.

satoru walks closer to you and when he catches your eye, you stand up straight and smile.

"satoru." you chime, not missing the thousand pairs of eyes that were following your every move. "good morning. happy valentines day."

you hold out the flowers to him. it's set in a nice box, and the treats are in a gift bag. when you give it to him, your smile is awkward but hopeful.

"happy valentines day, y/n." he replies, taking it from you. he sits down on the fountain edge, and you follow along. "i'm so sorry, i... i don't have anything for you."

"no, no, no." you retort, grinning, "it's fine. this was a surprise for you, anyway."

he sighs, "no, i'm sorry... please, let me make it up to you."

you laugh a little, placing a hand over his on his lap. the flowers were sat on the fountain with his gifts. "sure thing." you retort, "hey, suguru told me that this morning—"

"i'm sorry, i know, i just thought..." he begins, cutting you off. he looks embarrassed, heavy blush falling over his cheeks. "i saw you and suguru yesterday and you gave him that letter. had me thinkin' you were confessing to him instead of me."

you let out a small chuckle, making him gulp, "oh my goodness, i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see that. we were trying to be sneaky."

satoru's chest feels lighter, and he feels better just hearing it from you. he links his fingers with yours, facing you fully.

"ah, no it's fine." he tells you, the most purest form of adoration in his eyes that you can see from the top of his slanted down glasses. you grin softly. "listen, i have had a crush on you for months... and i was hoping that you'd go out with me. i want a chance to get to know you personally, away from any prying eyes."

you peer to the side, seeing the people watching you. they were practically hanging out the window, waving their hands and fighting to view the whole scene for themselves. cameras took photos and videos, capturing your moment with him.

"i'd love that, satoru." you say, scanning his face, "you're the best."

it only takes him a single second to reach his hand out and brush his thumb agaisnt your cheek. you don't freeze up though, only relaxing into him. he was the most inviting guy you've ever met.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, voice unwavering. his blue eyes are staring at your face with such kindness that it cannot be described.

you don't even say anything, only leaaning forward and pressing your lips to his. he's smiling against your lips, gentle hand caressing your cheek. your eyes flutter shut, holding his hand tightly.

cheers erupt from the school. screams and whoops from guys and girls alike. most students are heartbroken due to the obvious confession. nobody had even gotten that close to satoru. no one has been able to hold his hand, let alone get him to go crazy over a letter. you got him to race out of that classroom like a madman, and everyone was surely surprised.

the shouts die down as the kiss deescalates, many of the students sighing as they're forced to move on from the heart-throb gojo satoru.

when you pull away, satoru chases, leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead. your smile is wide and you pinch his cheek softly.

"you're such a drama queen, satoru." you say, standing up, "i was wondering why everyone started yelling and staring at me all of a sudden."

satoru stands with his presents, rubbing the back of his neck as he holds your hand. h goes to answer when a voice is heard from the fourth floor.

"the idiot took some convincing, y/n!" suguru shouts, waving his hand, "glad to know he's got some sense in him!"

"shut up, suguru!" satoru calls back, showing his fist.

"first period is about to start, you two!" the principle says through a window on the third floor, "this is all heart-warming, but you've failed two of ms kinoshita's classes, gojo!"

"r—right!" he retorts, pacing to the school entrance as people begin to 'ooh' at him. he looks back at you, smiling the brightest. "let's go out after school today, yeah? i'll buy you as many sweets as you want."

you chuckle, kissing his cheek, "my hero."

[genericpuff]

holy crap okay so

I'm two episodes into Kaos

normally I keep my expectations pretty minimal because, let's be real, the Internet - and especially Tumblr - has a tendency to severely overhype new series to be way better than they actually are and it often leaves me sitting there like "that's it? that's what people were freaking out over for weeks?? that was just a bunch of cheap ships and tropes that i've seen 123785902380 times before" LMAO

BUT thankfully compared to other series like Hazbin Hotel and The Amazing Digital Circus, I haven't been worn out on excessive fandom exposure prior to watching Kaos, so I didn't really know what to expect going in besides what folks have told me so far - it's a modern-day Greek epic, and it stars Jeff Goldblum as Zeus (which is, unsurprisingly, peak casting).

That said, I'm very pleased to say that so far, the show is absolutely blowing me away. The set designs, characterizations, weaving of all the players into a central narrative led by a very coy narrator, all of it feels both refreshing and respectful to the source material at the same time.

so uh yeah that LO animated TV show... we have reason to believe now that it's gotten picked up by Amazon Prime, at least according to the showrunner's LinkedIn and posting history from February of this year that seems to imply LO may have been picked up by Amazon-

(but still, nothing's really been confirmed because they're being so tight-lipped about this you'd almost think it's because there isn't a show happening at all cough)

But even then, that means at best we still won't see anything of the LO TV show adaption for another 2-3 years, depending on how production goes.

Why am I talking about LO right now? Well it should be obvious - Kaos double-whammied LO by beating it to the punch at its own game.

I mean, just look at the creative choices alone in the design of the Underworld and its rulers, our beloved Hades and Persephone.

And yes, the entire Underworld is color-graded like this, something so simple and yet effective in communicating the nature of the Underworld and what it stands for - a place where the past lives on through the dead, paused in time, devoid of the vibrant color grading found in Olympus - or "Olympia" as its been named in this retelling - which is, by the way, a visual treat to take in every time it's featured.

(and yes, that is S-tier-companion Billie Piper on the left, but I will not tell you who she's playing, you actually really should go into this show as blind as possible for the thrill of figuring out these characters as they're introduced <3)

That's not even getting into the narrative structure of the plot itself or the phenomenal casting and acting, but again, I don't want to spoil too much as the show is quite new, and I want to actually finish watching the show myself before I get more into the details of its story and how it delivers it (I'm very much hoping I will still be singing this show's praises at the end of its 8 episodes, please for the love of god don't jump the shark, I don't think my heart can take that kind of pain again.)

All that's to say though, Kaos is, so far, exactly what us disappointed fans of LO deserve after all these years, and frankly, I feel like whatever is coming for the LO animated TV show is really gonna have to step up to the plate to both live up to the bar that Kaos has set as well as stand on its own without being affiliated as a cheap Amazon knockoff living in its shadow. Sounds a little familiar and a bit ironic, doesn't it?

[faeflowerz]

Savanaclaw Imprinting on You

I have nothing cheeky to say. Let's do this.

Warnings: My gross misunderstanding of animals, Bullying Leona for being a big chonk

Characters: Ruggie, Jack, Leona

Ruggie imprinting on you is an "oh shit" moment for him. He lives his life so casually and when he sees you, like really sees you for the first time, he's acting unwise. Ruggie will do things for you that he wouldn't for anyone else. He doesn't ask for you to return the favor. He even shares his food.

Now this last one is particularly special for him given that he values food more than his peers. Food is how he communicates and finds pleasure. I won't get too far into the feederism side, but I think there'd be a lot of "You should eat. Have you had breakfast?"

But it's not all picnics and dandelions. Hyenas are pretty scary if you piss em off. So if one of your guy friends touches you the wrong way or tries to tease him about his sudden obsession with you, he will go on the offense. Lots of growling and hes ready to turn them into a hashtag. You gotta drag him away every single time.

"Dude, you can't just go around picking fights with everyone! What's your damage, Ruggie?"

"I wouldn’t be so mad if those assholes kept their hands off of you!"

"That's what this is about? They mess around all the time, it's not a big deal."

"It is to me! I don't like it!"

"Okay, but why though? Why would you give a fuck?" You shake your head, frustrated by the look he was giving you.

"Because I'm jealous!" He barks. "I don't want anyone else touching you but me!" Everything is quiet as you try to process what he just said.

"Ruggie...what-"

"I like...being around you all the time. And all I can think about is you. And...ugh...this is so stupid." His cheeks are cute and pink as he mumbles his way though his confession. And you, you're smiling. Seeing him get so real with you is so sweet and touching. As he's trying to justify his behavior, you place a sweet kiss on his nose. Then he's all shishishi cause he got kissed.

When Jack imprints on you, he's pretty tsundere about it. Suddenly he's hanging around you and by extension the other first years. Its not like he loves you and how you smell and the way you laugh at your dumbass friends. He just...needs to be within five feet of you at all times. Oh, and that tail? It's wagging every single time you acknowledge him or give him attention. The most antisocial boy is suddenly craving your affection.

And of course Ace is gonna clown him for it. Though it feels a little bit different. "Is there somethin you're not telling us? No fair that you two have A Thing going on the down low."

"What are you even talking about?" Jack crosses his arms, clearly trying to keep cool.

"Come on, dude. You lit up when Prefect sat next to you," Ace pouts at the both of you before calling you out too. "Are you together?!"

"Wh-what?! What would make you think that?!"

And all of your friends have examples. Waay too many. And then, Ortho says, "You know, imprinting can happen to beast men too. There's a chance that-"

"What happens between me and Prefect is our business. I didn’t ask any of you to help me confess either."

Major self report. His tail is going a trillion per hour and he realizes what he just said. "Damn it."

"Ha! I knew it!" Ace chortles.

"Wow...that was pretty bold, Jack," Epel hides his grin behind his hand. As for you...

Well, you're smiling like an idiot. It's not like you haven't been purposefully saying and doing things to see his tail wag, make his ears flicker and see him smile a little. You can't pretend to be shocked as you look at Jack for a response. "Well, I guess I should have been honest from the start..."

So there you are, resigned to be a pillow for the biggest cat you've had the misfortune of knowing. Leona loves your thighs and like hell he's going to pass up on your free period to get some sleep. You've accepted your fate, but your legs are just as comatose as he is. As you try to shift around, this catman actually whines in protest. Inside, he's praying you didn't hear it. "Stop moving," he manages to say.

So, Leona's imprinted on you. Now what? Well, you're gonna know quite quickly. Like, it's kind of not a secret since Leona is so shameless with everything he does. Though, he won't actually say "I've imprinted on you." His actions are all the confirmation you need. Actually, he's the most overbearing because he will just drag you away from whatever you're doing just to take a nap with him. Are you in the greenhouse for a class? Well, too fucking bad. Leona wants you to give him attention. You know. Like a cat.

"M'leg's asleep," you complain. "Plus you're heavy."

"Neither of these are my problem."

"You're literally responsible for both."

"You callin me fat?"

"...maybe I am," Leona opens one eye to glare up at you. He wants to be mad. But seeing you so pleased by his reaction makes him melt a little. "What? All you do is eat and sleep what else am I supposed to think?" To your surprise, he sits up. You're about to ask but he flops on top of you, sending you both into the soft patch of grass. Leona's spooning you and your face is buried in his fat (and kind of fuzzy) tits. "Seriously?!"

"Look, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that you're one of the few people I can tolerate."

He's a real piece of work, isn't he? Still, his body is kind of warm and cuddly, huh? He would probably get mad if you said that out loud though.

[bunbunlovestowrite]

♥︎𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜♡︎

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏?

𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙱𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚃𝚘𝚙! 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘, 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚜, 𝚗𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚖! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.

"Bye!" You call out to the last bus of kids going home, their faces pressed to the glass and you swear one kid licked the window. Gojo stood next to you, arms crossed with his blindfold pulled down around his neck. His white shirt was soaked from when the kids pranked him with God knows how many water balloons.

The other counselors had headed home when the bus left, leaving the two of you alone. The sun had given a golden glow to the world, tinting everything it touched.

Behind the two of you was the lodge. 2 floors with enough bedrooms for the counselors and a few bathrooms meant for two people. Gojo was your roommate for the summer, you can't count on one hand how many times you smothered him with his pillow to wake him up.

He straightened up and stretched his arms above his head, smirking at you. "You leaving now?" He asked, leaning his head back slightly. "No. I'm gonna clean up a bit." You tugged your sweater down slightly before walking up the lodge steps. He followed quickly.

"What? That'll take all night. You'll be here till tomorrow." He leaned over a bit to reach your eyes. "Exactly. That's one night all to myself. Loud music, a big cabin, I can clean in peace." You sigh dreamily at the thought. Gojo huffed and stuck his tongue out. "Cleaning isn't fun." He poked your cheek. "That's cause you never clean, Gojo." You giggle and poke him back.

He huffed again and rolled his eyes. "I clean!" Defending himself was hard when you opened the door to your dorm. Your side was neat and clean, with most trinkets packed up, while his was messy and you swear you heard his sock crunch when you picked it up.

"I heard your children screaming in here. 'daddy...daddy...help us'" you wave the sock at him. He gagged and swiped at the sock. "I can't pay child support right now." He tossed the sock in the bin behind him. "Broke." You say between fake coughs.

"How can men live like this?" you asked when you grabbed a shirt off the bed and saw countless crumbs fall off it. Gojo looked away in shame, scratching his cheek with a finger. "That's Geto's..." he lied. "I know it's not, because Geto is the cleanest person I know," you teased as you tossed the shirt at him.

You chuckled at his cry and grabbed your speaker. Stickers of various animated characters were peeling off it and its rose gold color was also peeling slightly. You needed a replacement, but this one had lasted so long and new ones were so expensive.

"When are you leaving?" You glance back at Gojo before connecting your phone to your speaker. He shrugged and sat on his bed. "Whenever my mom has someone get me." He laid back. You watch as his damp shirt lifted slightly, revealing his happy trail and an unshaved path of white hair leading below his pants. You blush and look away, mentally slapping yourself.

"uhm..y-yeah that sounds good." You jumble your words slightly and grab your speaker. "I'm gonna clean. Bye!" You practically scramble out of the room and slam the door behind you. Gojo raised an eyebrow but smirked, yanking his blindfold back up before going to sleep.

❦︎༒︎❦︎

It was some time later. The sun had gone down, and you had finished cleaning everywhere except the office. After tossing the broom into a closet, you threw yourself onto the couch to finally relax. The large windows in the main room revealed the high moon in the sky, casting its light on the massive lake, making it glitter.

You were snapped out of your trance when you heard a yawn and footsteps. Gojo walked in. His shirt was gone and he blinked one eye at a time. Shirtless Gojo was a sight you got used to, and oddly grateful to, during your summer here.

"You're up." He looked over at you, rubbing his eye. "Did anyone come by?" He dragged himself over and popped on the couch next to you. He grumbled and rested his head in your lap, cheek resting on your bare thighs.

"No. Sorry." You unintentionally whisper as he nuzzles against you. "Well, good thing I didn't get my hopes up." He grumbled while rubbing his thumb on your thigh. Your sweater's sleeves were rolled up and your skirt was slightly hiked up due to his thumb.

Your heart pounded slightly and his breath hit under your skirt, fading against your panties. You calm yourself and rest a hand in his hair, threading your fingers through it. "Well, now I'm stuck with you." You whisper again, making him chuckle.

His thumb rubbed your skin in circles, his eyes opened to look up at you. You were looking out the window so you didn't notice him. He blushed slightly at the angle. Your breasts were right in front of his face, a simple movement away from hitting him. But he was more focused on your face.

The moonlight streamed in through the window, casting a gentle glow on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. He rubbed his head into your hand, feeling a knot in his stomach at what he was going to say.

The two of you went to the same college, but you never spoke before this summer. He saw you in the halls, a biology major hoping to get into neurosurgery, and you were beautiful to him. But finding a way to speak to you was harder than anything else.

He reached a hand up and his finger brushed your cheek. "You're so beautiful." His voice was barely a whisper. You looked down at him, slightly shocked but he felt the heat on your cheek. "What? Did you hit your head?" You laugh slightly, feeling his forehead.

"No. No, I didn't." He lifted himself and was barely an inch from you. "Don't freak out." His lips hit yours with a gentleness you wouldn't have expected from Gojo. His hand cradled your head to deepen the kiss, his eyes shut. Your own eyes were wide for a second before they fluttered shut. You bring your hand up to cup his cheek.

He grinned against your lips and grabbed your hand, kissing your palm. "I knew you liked me." He glanced over at you from lidded eyes. "You did not." You laugh quietly. Gojo's smile grew slightly and he kissed down your neck, his hands sliding down the edge of your skirt.

"I want you. I want to taste you." Gojo was practically breathless as he kissed the crook of your neck, sucking on the supple skin. "Please. It'll feel so good." His hands tugged your skirt up, your white panties giving your obvious wetness away.

"Fuck Gojo." You gasp softly when his thumb pressed to your clit through the fabric, rubbing weak enough to make you want more. He knelt in front of the couch and held onto your thighs, spreading them more for him.

Gojo leaned in and kissed your inner thighs, nipping slightly at the skin. You didn't know what to do with your hands and you didn't want to pull at the leather so you placed them on his head, sorta grounding yourself by tugging at the white strands.

You shiver slightly when he slid your panties down and sneakily shoves them into his pocket. Thankfully you were too nervous to notice his thievery.

"O-oh God.." you clasp one hand over your mouth when he licked right up your cunt, groaning in ecstasy. You tasted like heaven to him. His cock was rock hard at his point. He ached, yearned, to yank his sweats down and fuck you into that couch, to make sure you couldn't walk straight for month. But he wanted this to be about you.

Gojo didn't waste a second and took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it gently with a few kitten licks here and there. The hand in his hair tugged harder, making him moan against your heat. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and yanked you closer, earning a yelp from you.

He chuckled against you before flicking his tongue against your clit in quick succession. Your hips writhed at this, your eyes widening. "Fuck Gojo! I-im gonna cum!" You yank his hair, pulling his face closer to your cunt. He moaned at this and kept his tongue at that pace.

Your back came off the couch and your toes curled. Heat spread across your lower body and you cum. "Gojo!" Your orgasm ripped through you and sucked any energy you had, your vision blurry with white spots.

Gojo kept his tongue flickering throughout your high and pulled away, slick connecting his lips to you until he licked it away. Your cheeks were hot and your legs trembled.

Gojo stood up, smoothed down your skirt, and then effortlessly picked you up bridal style. You rest against his chest and catch what breath you can.

He set you down on your bed, gently running his hand down your legs and taking off your shoes. He sat next to you and cupped your cheek, smiling slightly. "I would do more but Ms.Luncy took everything from the cabin." He tapped your cheek.

His smile grew when you held onto his wrist. He laid next to you on his side, cradling you close to his chest.

"Goodnight, Gojo."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

[vikuo-kuma]

Rabbit problem

A/N: Not gonna lie, this thought really just popped into my small feeble brain so enjoy while I work on a request— I also tried to keep the character as cannon as possible.

———

Walking around the school, Y/N hadn't have a thought that came to their mind. They looked around the school, seeing students conversing with each other and having the time of their lives. This particular day didn't really seem to be as chaotic as they thought. As they thought—

Y/N had decided to take their walk outside, wandering around the forest nearby the school. It was still really calming. Feeling the warm breeze blowing against their hair, smelling the sweet scent of flowers within the wind. The sun was still high above in the sky, along with the fluffy white clouds. They hummed in satisfaction at the natural surroundings of the forest. However, something had caught their attention. Y/N eyed the bush beside them, being on guard just in case it was something dangerous.

They took out their wand, ready to attack, but it was just a rabbit. It seemed injured, and holding a stick in its mouth. Y/N looked at it blankly, the rabbit seemed to have dual colored fur, dark green and yellow. The rabbit looked very familiar to Y/N, as they continued to observe it even closer. The dual colored rabbit instinctively backed away, but that didn't stopped Y/N from coming closer. "Poor thing, here..", they started to heal the rabbits wound with their magic. The rabbit seemed to have loosened up a little and hopped closer to Y/N.

"... you are so fluffy and adorable", Y/N picked up the rabbit into their arms. They started to scratch the rabbits little head, but it hit Y/N's finger away coldly. "Ow, you're starting to remind me of someone", glaring at the rabbit who had hit their finger away. It seems to look away suspiciously, avoiding all eye contact with Y/N.

"Eh, I'm still gonna keep you though. Im gonna name you Ray", they began to walk back to school, with the dual colored rabbit in their hands. The rabbit stared at Y/N with a stern expression. "While on the topic of names, I haven't seen Rayne around the school today", Y/N questioned, walking back towards the building.

While in their arms, the rabbit looked at them with a judging look, almost as if it could understand what they were saying. But they ignored the rabbit's intense gaze, and arrived at the school's building. "I think you and Rayne would be best friends", Y/N randomly commented, as they walked through the corridors of the school.

They finally reached their dorm room with the rabbit in arms. "There you go Ray", Y/N placed it down on their fluffy bed. "You must be hungry, I'mma go check if there's any carrots around", Y/N walked out of the room, wand still in their hand. The dual colored rabbit finally dropped the stick from its mouth, the small animal still had a cold expression on its face.

"Alright! I'm finally back", entering the room with carrots in their hands. Y/N saw the rabbit lying on one of their pillows, with its snout dug into it. They looked very confused, after all they weren't a rabbit expert. "Well I guess it's very sleepy?", taking a wild guess, but ignored it anyways. "It is getting dark", they said looking out the windows. "Eh, good night little rabbit", giving the dual colored rabbit a small kiss on the head. Going towards the bathroom to start on their night routine, Y/N finally finished and laid beside the sleeping rabbit.

Unsuspectingly, the rabbit woke up while Y/N was still asleep. Crawling closer to their face, the dual colored rabbit kissed the sleeping person directly on the lips. The small animal went back to sleep, letting the spell slowly break.

It was morning and Y/N started to wake up from their slumber, however, they felt something warm holding them. They blinked, a couple of times, trying to register what position they were in. Looking up, they saw the missing magic user, Rayne, sleeping away peacefully.

Huh- what

Y/N pinched themselves, thinking that they were dreaming.

Nope, definitely awake.

They pinched themselves once again, thinking that they didn't pinch hard enough. Before Y/N could do it again, someone grabbed them by their arm. "Stop doing that", a voice grumbled, it was quite deep due to it being the morning. Rayne had awakened from his sleep, looking down at Y/N. Their face flushed red, Holy crap this is real.

[14dayswithyou]

💖 Slight 14DWY + Blog Changes! 💖

(16/12/23)

Leon will now move away from Corland Bay when he’s 10 years old. Originally, I never really put that much thought into it because it won't be explicitly mentioned in the game, but I figured I might as well make it more accurate now ^^;

Teo is now 26 (instead of 27). Again, zero thought went into this aside from wanting a wider range of ages for the cast — but now I want him to be closer to Jae and Violet’s age — especially considering they were all childhood friends and Violet was in the grade below them.

Elanor is now 30 and Kiara is 29. In the 2017 version, Elanor was originally the eldest sister, but it just didn't feel right to change it in the 2020 version. Day 3 will still be lore accurate, but everything on this blog will need to be retconned.

14DWY Purple (unofficial) will now be changing from #A14BF4 to #9D64FD.

Not a change, but adding more clarification: Angel will still attend university (and Jae and Teo will still be their university friend), but whether or not they enrolled will remain ambiguous! Day 1/2 kinda insinuates that they studied something ("Teo attended some of their classes"), but I wanted it to imply that they could've attended orientation and/or took "mock classes" after high school to see what it's like as well. I may change a few lines in the demo (in the future) to reflect that.

Egg

I'd like to (hopefully) try to remind everyone that whenever I write about Angel on this blog, they are gender neutral. Because if my ass had a dollar for every time someone assumed they were female because of the cutesy/pink themes or how "soft" I made the MC, I'd have enough money to fund voice actors, translators, custom soundtrack, and pay the $100 Steam fee /hj

Changed the crackpot theory tag into an actual tag!! About time sdghjdg

(07/01/24)

Also not a change, but to solidify Haruko's appearance + Ren's likeness a bit more... Haruko is supposed to be an anime character with pink/blue hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. He's a modern day "sorcerer" (a reference to JJK, not a literal fantasy wizard lmao) from an anime called "Attack on Giants" (another reference to "Attack on Titan"); and is very kind, ditzy, and empathetic. All Ren has copied is his hairstyle, vibe, and demeanour. Ren isn't outright cosplaying Haruko, and it'd take an avid anime enjoyer to notice that Ren is attempting to mimic Haruko.

I'll make a poll one day, but I might change Ren's left sleeve tattoo to the spoiler-free placeholder I used in this artwork. A lot of people seem to prefer it, but I'll wait until the poll to make any final decisions.

I might also make another poll to see if perhaps a new BGM theme would better suit the demo. Because in my mind, the "summer/beach location" = acoustic guitar (rather than piano) — and for some reason I get lo-fi vibes from 14DWY??

I don't think anyone has picked up on this subtle shift yet, but Ren will mainly use "he/him" over "he/they" now (since Haruko is a he/him enjoyer 👍). [REDACTED], however, will still greatly prefer "they/he", and will continue to use them interchangeably.

21/02/24 — or search through Obsidian. (Future Sai here.... I have no clue what this means???? What??? T_T)

I'm gonna cut down on the Teo and Ren bullying on this blog (and in general). I don't find it fun anymore, and it genuinely upsets me when people put down certain characters to make others look better (i.e. "Ren has no ass which makes Leon superior >:)" Just say you like Leon... I beg T_T). It also makes me doubt whether Ren is genuinely a good character or not, and it's gross seeing y'all tear down people who genuinely enjoy Teo. Be kind.

(11/01/24)

Eventually, I'd like to turn this meme into an event in the 14DWY Discord to help create an actual landlord for Day 3. The current landlord has always been a meme-y placeholder (I thought the idea would be funny), but looking at how the game is currently, I want 14DWY to be more "serious". The current landlord will eventually be turned into an easter egg!!

Whether or not Jae had bottom surgery will now remain ambiguous. Everyone is now free to headcanon whatever they'd like, so long as it's not offensive or too OOC.

From now on, I'll also try my best to remind everyone that Jae is gay and Kiara is lesbian. I tried not to bring it up frequently because I was afraid it'd come across like "being gay" was their only defining personality trait, but I'm tired of people sending in asks that don't apply to these characters ^^;

I might move all of the curiouscat questions to this blog and archive the account. It's becoming too much of a hassle for me to manage 3+ social media accounts sgkshjj

[luna-lovegreat]

Twilight and Legends relationship

...I love it

**in this post there's a lot of stuff I didn't notice before. I'm gonna resist the urge to write an essay on each point, and attempt to leave most of it up to the reader's interpretation**

Ok ok there's a ton of stuff here, starting with early character scenes

They're like the rest of the chain: They fight together and talk. Legend is close to Hyrule, and Twilight to Wild and Time.

We see some things Twilight and Legend have in common. One is their dislike of Hyrule knights, and-

As seen in the Gerudo clothes scene, both Twi and Leg like to mess around with pranks and have a lot of snark... wonder what would happen if they worked together

But there's something really important about how Twilight views Legend:

I wasn't aware this was before looking closely at their interactions but... Twilight didn't originally like Legend. This is shown a lot later on- in his facial expressions and words towards Legend. But from the start he didn't like him much, and here's why:

From the start, Jojo says this- Twilight judges Legend's actions as too harsh since his mannerisms come across as picking on someone. (Also Sky you are so so pure and cute 10/10 most huggable Link)

Legend is abrasive because he's had so many adventures- he's hardened to the point of being sharp. But it's wonderful that that character can still be so loved- his heart is good (hero duh)

Twilight has always been a big brother. It makes him well loved (rightly so). Jojo says he knows people can change- for good or bad. But because of his past Twilight doesn't like people picking on others "not even a little". It's complicated- we see it affect Twilight's attitude towards Legend a lot.

Anywho moving on to the plot

Wolfie, Aka twilight

Dark mirror stuff happens, and Legend finds out Twi's Wolfie- as we all know. But he can't just. Acknowledge it of course. He's gotta probe and tease, asking pointed questions (snark snark snark)

And in his attempts to be certain about the Wolf stuff, we were blessed with:

Bunny Legend

Welp. That investigation did not go as planned.

Animal forms:

Bunnies are soft, but Legends actions are not. He is guarded and sharp yet his form shows how sweet his true heart is

Wolves will love/protect their family yet are fierce, they have fangs and will fight. The root of who Twilight is is his kindness and family

Also (sarcastic) good job to Four and Wild for being SO SUBTLE with their emotions when Legend's asking questions hinting he knows Twi's secret

Legend: asking questions about the secret shhh

Four and Wild: Are having a freaking heart attack about it

Twilight: starts ranting about goats

...

Once Twilight gets over the shock of Legend like. Absorbing his crystal. He... well, looking at the harshness in his face and words, this is where Legend's attitude and his past with Colin being bullied biased him against Legend.

Look at his face in each panel through the progression- Twilight is more and more confused thinking legend is not who he thought he was...

And Twilight certainly sympathizes/relates to being hurt by losing someone he loved (in whatever form the relationship took)

And WHY is it always girlfriend trauma with these boys of COURSE it's girlfriend trauma that brings them together NOT SHARING A SPIRIT AND LOVE OF SWINGING GLORIFIED METAL NO THEY HAVE TO BOND OVER RELATIONSHIPS GONE WRONG

Twilight then thinks well that's a good reason to be pretty changed because from the start Jojo said he'll always understand people changing...

So they go, and make legend human again (with pink hair) and Legend is... surprised. And grateful...

Another few defining moments:

Legend's dialogue thanking him is the real start of them connecting like in Leg's original character description "the most reliable, you want him on your team"

And again Twi's face, Twilight is looking at Leg differently throughout this- contemplating to be honest. Considering...

And remember when I said these two both like to prank? Well the second they have a shared experience and get back to camp they immediately team up and start barraging Warriors with snark

Heaven help the chain when these two are on the same side

Legend has never been close to people outside of the few he's accepted as his (love him and hyrule's bond). After this? Twilight's one of his people. There's much more expression of caring and closeness towards Twilight- something we don't see with many.

And then, well, Twilight nearly dies. And Legend, he cares

Bunny boys puppy dog eyes are gonna kill me someday

Twilights pretty injured, he really doesn't see/remember all these moments showing how much Legend wants to help

And then we have this moment

this moment

Matters so so much

Look at Twi's face. Look at his surprise, realization, and acceptance- this is when he realizes- when he sees how much Legend cares for him

Twi woke from his deathbed for his family

and then in the next few updates it's really cute- he just is barely recovering and legend is just... beside him. Staying by his side

Animal forms later development:

Legend's bunny form is soft- but he is still not totally soft. Looking at Legends actions and facial expressions towards the others, while he's definitely closer to Twi now, he's still the snarky boy we know and love.

Twilight's Wolf form is loyal and loves family: Once he knows legends heart? Full on pack love.

And WHY were they so very intent on petting each other

Legend: I'm gonna go try and pet the wolf since I think he's my dude yes good plan

Twilight: I KNOW THIS IS WEIRD BUT IVE NEVER PET A RABBIT BEFORE LET ME TOUCH YOU

...

Here's a few random parallels of them to chew on because I love parallels (them snarky snarking each other, then some brother love parallels)

The thing with these two is their character bonding and whatever is not all sweet and lovey like some of the others. They have some REALLY sweet caring moments with each other. But snark plus snark equals double snark, meaning them together is the weirdest mix of kindness and teasing you've ever seen

And although at the beginning they were pretty harsh towards each other, it makes their getting closer and learning their similarities all the better.

[theminecraftbee]

so a thing this fandom does that remains FASCINATING to me, as a function of the fact a lot of this fandom is people's first fandom or only current fandom, is just... assume a lot of things it does is a scourge that this fandom has invented or doesn't exist outside of it? or like, is uniquely bad here? and i won't deny that sometimes mcyt fandom is a bit more intense by virtue of numbers, but like...

duo names: confusing fandom-injokes to describe duos and groups tend to be an anime fandom thing specifically for many historical reasons, but they're not uncommon. hey quick--if you haven't been in KHR fandom, can you guess what 1827 is? no? i'll give you a hint: that's actually a ship name. or, ygo fans, tell me the difference between puppyshipping, prideshipping, violetshipping, and rivalshipping. my hint is that they're all kaiba ships and two of them are actually the same ship. good luck!

reducing characters to a specific trait: have you read fic in another fandom before? i would recommend you go do so and come back to me. my example here is "sasuke likes tomatoes", for the record.

common au fanon that's confusing to outsiders: my deep cut here is "when i got into certain tv fandoms i was baffled by the existence of sentinel/guide fics", which is a slightly older tv fandom thing so many of you probably don't know what i'm on about. but trust me: in certain fandoms it's ubiquitous and unless you've watched a completely different tv show you're gonna have to entirely pick it up from reading fic. oh hey, hybrid aus and watcher!grian, nice to see your relative here,

fanon being treated as canon: did you know there's this whole bnha character, naomasa, who is treated as canonically having a lie detector quirk? did you know that, best i can tell, that's not in canon anywhere, it just got echoed through fanon enough that everyone treated it as canon? 'fanon trait becomes so ubiquitous everyone assumes it has to be there' is not a new thing. also, batfamily fans, i have been lead to understand the tim and coffee thing is also this.

characters being treated badly to make a different dynamic look better: the fact we have the term 'character bashing' tells you all you need to know, here. if anything my one complaint on this front isn't even that it's happening--it's that i wish bashing and/or "not [character] friendly" was tagged a little more frequently, haha.

characters being reduced to their family dynamics: tale as old as time. "even the family dynamic thing" yes even that. just because this fandom tended to be particularly ship-adverse in the past didn't mean it didn't do basically the same behaviors as any fandom with shipping did with those dynamics, just gen. and other gen fandoms also do that. yes, down to the "and shipping reduces them to a ship, unlike my gen dynamic, which is very in-character; why can't people just be friends?" thing. some of you have to have been marvel fans right.

characters being reduced to their ships: some of you have to have been marvel fans right.

The Discourse: yeah this is an "actively running show" fandom thing, but also a hiatus fandom thing. ask a homestuck about vriskourse sometime. as much as i hate to say it, it probably made doomsday discourse look cute.

and those are just like... some things i've seen people complain about on my dash recently. idk it just hit me there are probably fans in mcyt fandoms who are assuming that some things (like hybrid aus or duo names) are the kind of things that only happen here, so i thought i'd offer some examples of other places they happen! i also have even more examples if you'd like.

to be clear: this isn't shaming anyone for complaining about any of these things. lord knows i go complain to my friends about it all the time, just the other day i was complaining in the category of 'they keep bashing my guy'. it's more of just... a gentle reminder that maybe we're big, maybe we're loud, maybe we have problems... but these problems aren't always unique.

so uh. we're all suffering together i guess...?

[tsukasalvr]

My I request headcanons for Fuyuhiko, Gundham, and another character of your choice protecting/saving a gender neutral reader? I'm kinda a sucker for those kinda things 👉👈

AN: I’m so in love rn and dw me too anon!!!! I’m gonna choose Hajime cus I don’t think I’ve write for him yet but I literally haven’t written for a lot of the danganronpa characters yet sooo

protecting/saving reader

Anime/Fandom: Danganronpa

Characters: Fuyuhiko’s Kuzuryo, Gundham Tanaka, Hajime Hinata

Warnings: I don’t proofread

A/n: my stomach can’t stop making noise help

Danganronpa masterlist | Main masterlist

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

He knew you and Mahiru were out together taking a stroll around the island and were planning to go for a swim

He should’ve been more aware about Peko and how she would react, he knew Peko would never hurt you, and he was lucky enough to make it in time to the small house

Mahiru was waiting outside for you as you went in to grab a water bottle from the small fridge, Peko thought it would be Mahiru who went in first but was able to stop just in time when Fuyuhiko’s ran all the way to the house and pull you towards him so Peko would miss

Peko apologized and made it clear that she wasn’t going to kill you and had Fuyuhiko’s help clear it up as well

Seeing how it could’ve been you instead of Mahiru who died, and by accident form Peko of all people, made him even be more worried about your wellbeing and had you close to him at all times even if it was just you going to the bathroom

Gundham Tanaka

He never had you stray too far away from him ever, he would always say that he would protect you from all evil with the help of his dark devas

You were never seen apart from each other even from when you both woke up on the island, especially since you two were dating for a while and even before the island

It was just a coincidence he saved you, Hiyoko sucked up and went to ask you for help on tying her kimono and you told her that you remembered there was a large mirror over at the live house and you told her you would gladly carry it over to her cabin so she can keep it

The only reason you didn’t was because Gundham had reminded you about a small dinner you were supposed to have later that day with him, Sonia and Hajime

So Hiyoko had to go alone and when it turns out that her going there alone, like you were going to, was how she ended up getting killed, Gundham was shocked

He didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if you had went instead. He has since then pledged to go everywhere with you so you wouldn’t be alone and to calm his nerves

Hajime Hinata

Hes been on edge since he woke up on the island and even more worried when he saw you were unfortunately here as well on this hell island

Everything was going smoothly, there had been no murders so far and the little party they were having had been going well as everyone was having a great time talking and eating

You on the other hand, had been worried especially since you thought it was such a coincidence that only one pick had gone missing but Byakuya’s and Hajime brushed it off and Hajime comforted you with saying that nobody will kill someone in broad daylight and it probably just went missing

You weren’t believing it and when the lights went out, you noticed a small liquid neon dots that were leading under a table and crouched down to lift up the cover when Hajime who was next to you before the lights went out, accidentally tripped and you had both fallen on top of each other

And it was thanks to him tripping over you that you hadn’t died and crawled under the table

He’s since then taken this island more serious especially since you’re hear with him

Knowing that could’ve been you bleeding out under the table, haunts him

[digitalagepulao]

My sincere Black Myth: Wukong review

Full disclosure! This is from a recent but earnest fan of JTTW as the original novel, as well as all the social, cultural and religious layers of it. I've seen my fair share of adaptations and derivative media, from shlocky to silly to grimdark to cutesy. I'm a bachelor in visual arts, with an interest in the field of game development since high school. I am also, white and brazillian, and have talked with other jttw fans, both Chinese and not, on this game. If any of these are for some reason motive to not read further, then fair enough. Hope you have fun and continue to enjoy the game, do not let me or my opinion stop you!

Now to the review proper <3

First things first, let the obvious not remain unsaid. This game, is supremely gorgeous. In every sense of the word, and I mean this fully, it's a work of art. The sound design, the character concepts and execution, the animations, the voice acting, the visual effects, the UI design, the cinematography, the 3D scanning of actual historical artofacts and heritage sites throughout China, and everything beyond and between, are phenomenal, full stop.

This was never a debate, I'm sure, but I don't think I can in good conscience not praise them for their work. It's no news that Asian talent, not just in China either, have been often hired to supplement projects on the West, and we can all agree it's about time they got to shine in their own AAA project. My issues with the international game industry notwithstanding, I hope this brings some much needed acknowledgment and appreciation for Chinese culture and arts, both traditional and modern!

Now, from this point on, THERE WILL BE SPOILERS, so proceed with caution!

(word count: +1.8k)

I also deeply enjoy their choices in arcs to revisit. Some like the Flaming Mountain arc are classic picks to adapt but still a very good match to the whole Six Senses throughline. I don't think you can do a JTTW 2 electric bogaloo without bringing up Niumowang and his family in some way (um, put a pin on that), but the other arcs like Yellowbrow or Black Wind Mountain aren't as explored imo, so it's nice to see them being given a bit of a spotlight.

(speaking of the Yellow Ridge arc, whoever made the executive decision of Lingji Bodhisattva being a Xaanxi singer is, genius!!)

I'm also kind of in love?? with Bajie's design and role in the story overall?? Gameplay wise he sticks around just enough to not feel lonely, but not too long to be a nuisance or overstay his welcome. He's no Atreus (GoW) or Ellie (TLoU) of course, but he doesn't need to be, and most importantly, he isn't trying to be, which I feel is admirable of the devs. Given the visible inspirations from the recent God of War games, it would have been easy to lean a bit too hard on it, but I'm glad they didn't overreach.

Him having a more complex love life is also a nice touch imo. It explores more his womanizer ways in an interesting way, and I appreciate it. I love when people complicate the pig! Also, the way he treats Xiaosheng (Destined One) like a nephew?? The scene on the Huaguoshan throne??? I'M GONNA CRY!!!

I think, I've run out of positive things to say.... time for the spicy takes.

I, kind of detest the premise by default. I'm not a big fan of "Superman is Dead" plots, cus it's usually either done for shock value, or taken so lightly that the weight is totally lost. I have such a love-hate situationship with the introduction cutscene because of this. On one hand, it's phenomenal cinema, and seeing Wukong stand up to the Heavenly armies in glorious 4K high fidelity graphics is delicious. On the other hand, the whole debate they are having has me going "?????", not because I don't get it but just, why?? Why did this have to be the premise?? (put another pin on that)

Also the set up and call to adventure is kind of blergh.

Now is as good a time as any to talk about the gameplay. It's, okay. If you enjoy trying to figure out the most stylish combos, or to mash buttons, then you'll definitely have fun. I was sorely disappointed that I pretty much have been going through the bosses rather easily. Chapter 1 it was mostly the struggle of learning the controls, but I never stuck to a boss for longer than seven tries (Whiteclad Noble, the snakeman that you are). Chapter 2 I only struggled on Tiger Vanguard, because I was sorely underleveled and had missed a pathway to explore before him. After that I second tried him. Chapter 3, I have and I'm not joking, gotten halfway through first or second trying every boss.

Mind you, this is not being some godtier gamer or whatever, I'm pretty average and only a recent player of soulslike games too (maybe playing Lies of P made too OP, but I sincerely doubt it lol). No, this is me saying that if you do explore the game and not rush through it, you won't struggle nearly as much as some people have and still are. Most of the final chapter bosses can be trivialized with the chapter's Obsession Realm gimmick artifact, which isn't in itself a bad thing, just feels like an odd choice personally.

Which leads me to, the level design. So far? Preeeeetty lame! It's very pretty and fancy, but so chockful of invisible walls that it feels stiffling and discourages exploration. I can never tell what is meant to be a path or just fancy scenery, and I never know when a jump will get walled or send me to my death by fall damage. When it's not being confusing, the level design is either a bunch of looping circles, or straight lines. And so far, besides a few interactables and loot, there is not much else to look at. That is, bad level design, plain and simple.

Also, the animations are glorious, but what is the point if I can't see the enemy?? That camera is my true nemesis, and I mean that. the fact that a boss can be beyond my field of vision at ANY POINT when I'm locked on and it strifes sideways, is dreadful. GameScience, FIX IT. It is also, very hard to tell what parts of a boss will damage me if I collide with them or not. The Kang-Jin Long fight was baffling on a design point of view, same for Captain Lotus-Vision. Some clearer hitboxes would be swell.

This is the point where I say my main issue with the game lies: it's very pretty, and adoringly crafted, but it lacks substance design wise. I feel like it needed to cook more, the level design polished more so I wouldn't get lost every five minutes, and clearer.... well, everything. Mechanic explanations, level progression, gimmicks, etc. It all needed to be less murky and convoluted to understand.

It also needed more meat in between bosses. I have yet to run into common enemies that give me actual trouble, so it ends up being just a jolly waltz from boss to boss. Boss rushes are fun and great, but not as the base game experience (for me at least). I had to stop one boss away from completing Chapter 1 cus I was just so exhausted. And I had been playing for like, an hour and a half?? That left a sour taste in my mouth, I'll be honest.

Okay, I'm gonna pick open those pins now.

#1 the Flaming Mountain Arc. I'm gonna be very real here chat, that was so cringe. What do you MEAN, Red Son wasn't Demon Bull King's biological son, and Princess Iron Fan was forced to drink from the Childbearing River??? And Red Son hates him????When I watched that cutscene, I had to pause and walk away for a moment, legitimately. This plotbeat is SO WILD to me, I got nothing to say. Just, why??Soooo bizarre. And that the Flaming Mountain Keeper has such a presence in Iron Fan's life is also, weird?? Not bad weird, just Weird, but that's like a nitpick more than an actual criticism. Ping Ping is fine though, I like that Bull has a daughter with Princess Fair Fox, that's cute and interesting. Wish she was in a better plot and adaptation but lol

And #2, the premise. Now we are getting to the meat of it all.

The underlying premise of the whole plot, including the true ending, is flawed by default. The premise runs on what is sometimes called as a "conspiracy theory plot", as in, "what if the gods were bad actually??". It's reddit movie theory content in very short terms, and while it had a place during the 00s grimdark years pre-Marvel, it's become quite a jaded and boring take nowadays. Now you may say that it comes from a genuine desire to show distrust and critique to insitutions and the powers than be, and I can see that.

There is a hiccup in that though.

In JTTW, Wukong is the Mind Monkey because of the religious text and subtext of the stories. Its interwoven in the whole thing, and makes it cohesive. It still offer critique and mockery to institutions, without entirely invalidating their foundations. Not only for genuine fear of prosecution, but because, shockingly, religion and belief is a major component of human society in general. But going back to my point, JTTW is *already* a critique of institutions and the power that be. Adding further layers into it feel like angst and edginess just for the sake of it, and that feels hollow to me.

To go further, this intent also clashes with their own plot. See, they bring up that Wukong's Mind, his Sixth Sense, died. Thus they need another Mind to guide his other senses and reform him, so that he may be reborn.

For one, that is such a convoluted way to do a reincarnation plot, it feels complicated just for novelty sake. Secondly, Wukong being the Mind Monkey, as I said, implies a tie to the underlying themes of the Journey as a person's path to enlightenment. If enlightenment itself is flawed because the gods are flawed/evil, then both themes are clashing. By making a "what if the gods were evil all along" plot while also going by the laws and order of said gods, then what are we even fighting against? What is the point of this whole rebellion between Erlang and Wukong??

my friend @ryin-silverfish said it best a while back, and I'm paraphrasing here (do pitch in or correct me if needed! <3), but the issue with these conspiracy narratives is the inherent anti-religion of them. They don't believe in anything, and thus they cannot properly retell the story of JTTW through a postmodern lense, because they refuse to engage with the religiosity that runs throughout the story.

It also leaves a sour taste in my mouth, because this game will likely be many people's first genuine experience with the JTTW mythos and story, and I tend to be concerned for how much this will "sour the pot" in the conversation. The novels are sadly innacessible enough as it is; the sheer size of them scare many people away, not even to mention the amount of underlying cultural context you'll miss out without proper footnotes and commentary. Most people will not engage with them directly, and certainly not most gamers.

While the narrative of someone embodying Wukong's spirit is not new in itself, I do find that it coexisting with such a poor premise and spin on it will be a sore first experience for new fans, and I can only hope that them meeting fans of the OG novels won't cause much friction in the fandom (we have enough as it is imo).

It also concerns me that, sadly, people and gamers in particular, get too swept up in the ooh-aah beauty of flashy sfx and highly detailed graphics, and fail to notice some of the underlying issues in game design. As I said, this game is a work of art, but it has flaws, and I don't think people are speaking of them enough. No, the issue is not "lack of diversity" or whatever the hell.

It runs deeper than that, and it's an issue I've come to see in recent movies as well. I'm aware it might just be different cultural expectations of the pacing and span of a story, and it may as well be! But I think if there was more care given to the bones of a media, it would bring much needed longevity and weight to these wonderful artworks.

All this said, I wanna see what acolades this game gets and see what the devs are cooking up with the DLCs (they said at one point the game was supposed to have 12 chapters and my god, that game would be TOO LONG. So glad it didn't get like that!), and further more see how this ripples in the eastern game dev scene. While this is a flawed game with a flawed story, it can be the first on a genuinely wonderful wave of new creations, not just by GameScience, and overall I'm hopeful for what might come next!

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER SEVEN — WELCOME to the REAL WORLD, JACKASS

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: christmastime in hawkins brings a bunch of cherry bombs in the boy's bathroom, a trip down memory lane via seven minutes in heaven avenue, and the least likely trio this town has ever seen. content warnings: MINORS DNI i'm going to fuck you up and santa isn't real so we've got, smut including references to and descriptions of male and female masturbation, smoking, swearing, a pregnancy scare, era-typical misogyny and ANGST in the form of a flashback!!! word count: 12.5k. merry christmas babies

Dear reader, it takes you less than five weeks to become incapable of imagining your life without Eddie Munson.

Which, given his propensity for being an absolute neanderthal, is concerning.

Eddie Munson talks with his mouth full and plays his music too loud. He never closes a cabinet all the way. He walks through anywhere, literally anywhere, be it a store or the library or Ronnie’s trailer–leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He talks during movies and puts his feet up on the seats at the Hawk. He makes fun of the books you read, but always grabs them away from you to stare at the blurb on the back. He never finishes a cigarette all the way before lighting another one, which is just wasteful. He pretends to be good at holding his liquor, but he’s not. 

He stands too close to you in places where he’s got plenty of room to move. He makes you laugh, even when you don’t want to. He holds the door for you in school, at the bookstore, getting out of the van, even though you’re more than capable of doing that yourself. He takes advantage of you when you’re in a good mood, like making you scratch his head as if he were a cat.

Sometimes he calls you ‘baby’, as if you don’t have a nickname already. As if you two are…

You lean toward the only mirror in the girls’ room with decent light, reapplying the red lip stain you’d taken to wearing– it was coming on Christmas, for god’s sake, and despite everything, you’re feeling festive. Quick. Lighter on your feet than you have been in a long time. 

“Hey girl, could I borrow that?” an out-of-tune simper rings right next to your ear and you almost jump out of your skin, lipstick clattering into the sink.

“Jesus!” you say, and Eddie Munson cackles. You knock him back with a one-handed shove, face setting into that funny little grimace you’ve taken to wearing when he acts up– and he’s always acting up. You’re gonna get wrinkles if he doesn’t cut it out. “What the hell are you doing in here? Hair in your eyes make you miss the sign that says girl’s room?”

You know that’s not true, because you were the one that just about tied him to a chair in Ronnie Ecker’s trailer so you could trim his bangs last week. 

This is a fuckin’ violation of my human rights, Lacy!

Every time I’m seen with you, people think I’m out walking a goddamn Briard. Hold still!

“So, hot off the press, newspaper girl,” Eddie says, leaning against the yellow porcelain, “One, I am literate, much to everyone’s shock and awe. And two, someone threw a bunch of cherry bombs down the john in the boy’s bathroom and the place is fucking Hiroshima, but wet and kinda shitty smelling. So we all got told to use this…” He gestures around at the clean-ish tile. “...salon of iniquity.” 

“Was it you?” you ask, plucking a cigarette from the soft pack he’s offering you. 

“Huh?” He scrunches his brows, leaning with a lighter ready. He’s taken to doing that; cigarette at the ready, lighter at the ready, low-grade explosives at the ready, probably.

“The cherry bombs, was it you?” you say through a reel of blue smoke.

“For once, no,” Eddie sighs, head slumping forward like a Peanuts character, “Some other gorgeous, anarchistic genius got the jump on me.” 

“Oh, god,” a frown sets in; you pick up your dropped lipstick and in its wake, ash into the sink, “There’s no other bathrooms on campus you animals could use?”

“Nuh-uh. Unisexuality, baby, it’s the way of the future,” Eddie tells you, fanning out his hands like P.T. Barnum. 

A beat. You think. This bathroom, the unofficially allocated senior bathroom, the one you and the rest of the Hawkins in-crowd had been using since sophomore year, got crowded at the best of times. The fumes of Aquanet were a definite health risk, but that’s an occupational hazard when it comes to being a girl. You add boys into the mix, nay, couples into the mix–

Damn.

“We’re about to witness the conception of so many toilet babies.”

Realization dawns on Eddie, his brown eyes flaring. “Oh shiiiit. I never thought of that.” 

“The band geeks alone, Eddie,” you whisper, head tilting toward him all scandalized-like, “We’re gonna show up at our fifteen year reunion and every single one of these suckers is gonna have their own little freshman clones.”

“Spare a thought for Heather Holloway.” Eddie’s face, a mask of mock concern, makes you roll your eyes.

“Why?” you scoff, not a fan, “She doesn’t inspire many.” 

“Objection. Her implants do.”

You turn to face him fully. “J’excuse?” 

“Swear to god,” and his palms are up, “Just saw her in Chemistry.”

“Good? Bad?”

“Conical. Jayne Mansfield.” Aaand his hands are gesturing, animatedly. Crassly. Pervily. “Take your goddamn eye out.”

“Wow. Christmas came early.”

“Christmas ain’t the only thing that’s gonna be coming early…”

“Ew.”

Eddie smirks and flicks his cigarette into the sink, hitting the faucet to wash it away– there were at least three good drags left in that, you think. 

“Heather H, first one to get knocked up in the Great Bathroom Insemination Project of 1984. Mark my words.”

“And you think you’re in with a shot?” Your tone is dripping in sneer. 

Eddie regards you for a moment, so you know something deeply annoying is about to happen. His voice goes all serious, barely above a whisper, as he closes space between you like he’s trying to beat a draft. 

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Lacy baby.” His hands brace either side of the sink you’re standing at, trapping you against him. See? No respect for boundaries. But– Hm. Not… that annoying. “Oversexed teenagers sharing the same bathroom– at Christmas, with all that mistletoe around and shit.” His eyes, searching you with a glint that’s s’posed to be provocative. You, elbow propped up by your folded arm, puff a plume of smoke into his face. He doesn’t even blink. Smirk pursing his lips up. The two of you have established a rhythm. “Anything could happen.”

“Ew, what the hell are you doing in here? This is the girl’s room.” Enter some upstart underclassman, and Eddie’s peeling away from you.

“You didn’t see the biblical flood on the second floor, Pippi Longstocking?” His voice is big and booming and bouncing off the tile, making the underclassman cringe. “Forcible takeover. This is my house now.”

“God, shut up, freak.” She shuffles by the two of you to a vacant stall with a look you recognize– she’s so telling her friends about those two trailer park abnormos just about copulating in the bathroom later.

“Great choice!” Eddie exclaims, door of the stall slamming, “I warmed the seat for ya!” 

—

“Watch where you’re going, you almost milled down that stroller!”

“I wouldn’t need to go so fast if you two, freakin’ Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Priss Ass, didn’t insist on getting to this place before it closed!” 

“We wouldn’t need to rush if you hadn’t spent all freakin’ afternoon at goddamn Lipton landing getting all– all–”

“All?”

“--toked up and shit!”

“Market research, Ecker! And, I’m gonna remember you said that! Later! When you want to get all toked up and shit– woah!”

Listening to Ronnie Ecker and Eddie Munson bicker in the front seat while you balance on a drum stool in the back of his van, clutching onto Ronnie’s passenger seat for dear life– no better way to get into the spirit of the season. You’d be joining in the milieu if you weren’t currently suffering from major motion sickness. 

Eddie takes a harsh pull into a parking spot outside of Family Video and–“Go, go, go!”--you three load out like soldiers, locked on the target. He takes the lead, swinging the door open for the two of you ladies, but a voice calls out from the counter before Ronnie can even get a toe over the threshold.

“Oh, no– no way, no way!” Steve Harrington’s yelling from the helm of the ship, waving his hands. “We are– fifteen goddamn minutes away from close, I can’t do this tonight!” 

“Highly unwise of you to turn away paying customers, Harrington!” Eddie gasps, Ronnie ducking under his arm. 

“You guys come in here and spend honest-to-god hours talking shit in the aisles and– and you never even rent anything!” 

“Well, your luck’s about to change!” Ronnie says, and Steve regards her with a mask of total confusion because, well, it’s likely he’s never heard her speak directly to anyone other than Eddie before. 

That’s when you roll in the door under Eddie’s arm-arch, color rising in your cheeks that’s not from the cold. 

“I am deeply reconsidering my association with you guys.” 

“Tough shit.” “Find another trailer park.” “You love it. You love us. You’re obsessed.” 

You pinch both of your hands towards them, the universal action to encourage zipping it, and cast a glance towards Steve. His shoulders relax. His vest is green and garish and a terrible color on him and… he’s wearing elf ears. And he’s Steve Harrington. And your stomach clenches, though it’s more muscle memory than anything else. 

“Hey, Steve,” you smile, soft and small and not really all that there. 

“Lacy. Hi.” He does smile at you, after a beat. “You responsible for these assholes?”

You hadn’t seen him since the night of his party, that grand inferno that had landed you here, standing between Eddie and Ronnie and feeling not entirely awful about it. Well, you hadn’t exactly seen him then either, except for a flash when Eddie was dragging you out of his house. 

So, y’know, the blush is entirely justified.

“She’s bankrolling us,” Eddie says, closing the door to keep the heat in and speaking just to break the tension. True, too– you’d scored a part time gig at The Bookstore after a confrontation with the eagle-eyed Ivana regarding certain missing copies of Little Women, The Woman Destroyed and Fear and Trembling. You assumed you were working off the thievery, which you never directly admitted to and she never directly accused you of– but then, she paid you. 

Ivana, it turns out, is incredibly pro-workers rights and even more incredibly anti-Hawkins gossip mill. Which works out a treat for you. The bookstore’s become more of a haven than it had been before. 

“Can you scatter already?” you direct two thirds of your threesome towards the stacks. “Let’s make this breezy, I feel a wave of mortification rising.” 

“No. I was promised in-store bickering,” Eddie says, rooting himself to the spot. You catch a weird flash of– something in his eyes. Ronnie, with her unlikely band geek strength, groans and yanks him toward the horror section. “It’s my favorite part! It’s like the pre-show!”

You take to the counter, gingerly, shyly. Why are you shy? Why, all of a sudden, after showing your ass in such a spectacular bruise-garnering fashion, are you shy to speak to Steve Harrington? Is it because Nancy’s dropped a tidbit here and there that he’s not exactly great boyfriend material? Is it because you sometimes secretly think, good, I hope you two are having a terrible time, even if you and Wheeler are making baby steps towards a friendship?

Is it because you never forget the first person that called you Lacy?

Fuck knows. Some of that. 

“So you’re… what, hanging out now?” Steve asks, gesturing to the twin dipshits. There’s a bite in his voice from a former incarnation of Steve Harrington, one with (somehow) bigger hair and an unchecked ego. It doesn’t all shed at once, you figure. He’s sloughing it off and there’s still some left over, judging by the way he’s staring at Ronnie and Eddie. 

You look over your shoulder to them. It would be so easy to deride it, right– only due to my unfortunate proximity to them, yes or girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do for a ride these days or it’s community service, I swear. 

But you don’t. You turn back to him with a pinchy little smile. “I’m this close to getting them to let me play tambourine in their band. Can you even deal?” 

Steve, after a beat and a brow furrow, sort of half nods. “Think I kind of… get that.” 

You’re about to answer when another body comes barrelling in through the back. 

“Just wanted to let you know, dingus, that I just got off the phone with Keith–you remember Keith, right, our manager who is currently in a war of words with our boss trying to keep this place open–and your little stock-take fuckup has cost us, like, weeks of manhours in work and–” Robin Buckley, complete with a light-up Santa hat, stops dead. Counts every person in the room. Shakes her head like she’s in a dream. “What is…”

“H–hi Robin!” Ronnie calls, her voice all squeaky– due to the scuffling headlock that Eddie has somehow managed to put her in without you and Steve even noticing. “Don’t worry, we– we’ll be out of your hair in a second!” 

And Robin– wait, is Robin kind of… blushing? She backs down immediately, putting her Family Video branded binder flat on the counter. “Yeah, no… that’s totally okay, take your time!” 

You look at Steve. Steve looks at you. You quirk an eyebrow like– is that, is she… And Steve shrugs like, don’t ask me, sister. Pleading the fifth. Saving Robin’s dignity. 

But you’re still you and you’ve been bugging Ronnie about her situation for weeks so you hold up a finger.

“What are you two idiots arguing about?”

“Black Christmas–” “Silent Night, Bloody– ow, Ronnie, don’t pull hair, you girl!”

A swivel back to Robin, who is totally pink-cheeked. “We need a professional to settle this.” 

Her mind seems to stutter like a badly wound tape. Oh, she’s suckered. “Uh– uh, Black Christmas, for sure. Not exactly the coziest thing to watch, but–”

“We’re not cozy people!” Eddie yells, Ronnie coming at him with arms like weed whackers.

“--but Margot Kidder, right?” you poke, goddamn Jimmy Page and John Bonham for the Midwest set slamming into the counter on either side of you.

“Olivia Hussey,” Ronnie says breathlessly. Eddie seems to have winded her somehow. “That’s– she’s cool–I heard she was in this–”

“Exactly!” Robin lights up, excited, “She– she played Juliet in Romeo and Juliet–”

“Wait, don’t you see her boobs in that movie?” Eddie jerks in. 

“Yes,” Robin and Steve chime in unison. And glance at each other. Telling. 

Ol’ Munson there snaps his fingers. “Sold.”

“But not in Black Christmas,” you say, almost gently, so as not to… let him down?

Eddie rolls his eyes and tilts his head toward your shoulder. “I’m a man with an imagination, ain’t I?” he rasps. You pretend-shudder.

“Okay, let’s do Black Christmas and– you got a copy of The Thin Man?”

Blink-blink goes Robin, like a cartoon. It’s nearly audible. “... like, the William Powell, Myrna Loy Thin Man?” 

Your turn to roll your eyes. God, you guys love to roll your eyes, huh? “Is there any other?”

“Like the black and white movie. You’re sure? I just didn’t think it’d be your–” 

But Eddie cuts right through that assumption that’s making an ass out of you and Robin, because he knows. He knows because you’ve made him sit through Double Indemnity at the Hawk, scolding him for putting his feet up (god forbid, right!) and you’ve even threatened to drag him to some Buster Keaton retrospective that’s playing there after the holidays. He keeps thinking, man, if Wayne Munson ever comes across this girl, he’s a goner, and then he remembers why that won’t be happening any time soon. 

“She’s a freak.”

You regard him with a tight smile. Kind of a thanks, kind of a fuck you. Kind of your thing. 

“I’ll watch it when these bozos pass out.” 

—

Something’s gotten into Eddie. 

You three are absolutely basking in the glory of your one night of freedom– see, Granny Ecker’s away on a weekend hotel stay in Indianapolis with one of her special friends from the Hawkins Senior Center. Which, on the one hand, gross, Eddie never ever wants to think about Granny Ecker getting lucky no matter how happy for her he is. But on the other, in the words of her beloved granddaughter–

“God bless the Indiana Sweepstakes!”

Eddie has stolen Granny’s usual spot, the kick-out recliner that seems to sag more with every movement. You and Ronnie are bunched onto the little two-seater together, with Ronnie shyly suggesting that you paint her nails (black, how totally hardcore)– now, Eddie knows this move. This is so she can distract herself from the bonafide creepiness of Black Christmas because while she tries to put on a brave face, Ronnie’s eyes for horror movies are way bigger than her stomach. She’s all nerves. It’s why she’s such a good drummer. 

As you’d predicted, by the time the movie ends and you all clear the six pack that Eddie had procured, Ronnie’s nodding off– but Eddie is determined to stay wide awake. You make a move off the couch and she grumbles, having narrowly avoided propping her head on your shoulder. You move to arrange her in such a way that she’s sleeping Nosferatu style, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because I spent an awful lot of time on that polish and I won’t see it ruined, not on your account,” you chide, real quiet. Ronnie’s not listening, she’s pretend honk-shooing. Eddie, on the other hand, is. 

He likes you like this. You’re sweet to Ronnie, in your prickly little way– making her flustered with your misdirected flirting, bonding with her about things so far out of the realm of his male understanding. Being a girl with her. It’s occurred to him that Ronnie, in her testosterone-soaked world of current comrades, might actually need that. Like, she’s friendly enough with Jeannie and that Vickie girl from band, but they’re not people she’d go out of her way to make a case for so’s that Granny Ecker will let them stay for dinner. 

Which she’s done for you. Once or twice now. Which you’ve nervously accepted and even ruined your manicure for, by insisting on washing up the dishes. Eddie dried, because of course he did, because the Ecker trailer is the only place close to home that the two of you can hang out.

You’re, like– friends. 

Which is horrible.

Eddie tosses you a cold can of soda from the fridge. You catch it, hands basketing above your head.

“Power forward.”

“Cheerleader.”

You lean over to the TV to swap the tapes out, insistent on watching your dumb little black and white movie. As you do it, your skirt lifts a little bit and– 

Eddie’s gotta break eye contact. Stare at the floor for a second. Cock jumping like the fucking mole from whack-a-mole.

He almost hits it.

You bitch, are you wearing thigh highs?

“You need to pull trig, Munson?” he hears you from the kitchenette, clicking the video player’s play button. “You only had two beers.”

God, maybe. Was the room spinning? “Smoked a lotta weed today.” 

“Right. Lipton landing,” you smirk. Ronnie’s derisive little nickname for Reefer Rick’s place. “Are you gonna get over here and snore through my movie or not?”

I do not snore, or some muttering of a similar fashion comes out but he’s doing exactly what you tell him to do. He can’t help it. Brain function gone all freaky from that flash of flesh squeezed out the top of your– yeah. 

Eddie lands on the floor next to you with a little groan. Your eyes flick between him and the now-empty recliner. 

“What are you doing down here?” 

Oh. Busted. “I’m a gentleman, Lacy. Take the damn seat.” 

Your face screws up in that silly way it does whenever he talks sense to you but you don’t wanna hear it. Brat. “No. I like to sit right up near when it’s something I really want to watch.”

A shrug of your little shoulder as you wrap your arms around your knees like a kid. Face illuminated by the greyscale on the television. Skirt rucking back against the carpet. Fuck.

Eddie lets out an unsteady breath, crawling forward to lie on his tummy. Closer to you. “You’re gonna get square eyes if you keep doin’ that, dorko.”

“Who died and made you my optometrist…” but you say it in this half-hearted, distracted way, eyes on the screen.

“Y’know, if you–” Eddie starts, eyes on the lace top of your–yes indeedy–stockings.

“Shut up,” and you tap him on the shoulder. “I love this part.”

Your hand stays there as some fancily dressed chick totally eats shit in the bar of some hotel or something. Christmas presents flying everywhere as she falls. 

Women and children first, boys.

Say, what is the score anyway?

Oh, so it’s you he was after.

Hello, sugar.

Your hand stays there as you’re totally mouthing every single word, you true-blue nerd. Eddie, completely at a loss of how to react to this other than gaze, gaze, gaze at you, snaps his teeth at your hand. 

You, so completely embroiled in Nick and Nora’s white hot banter, gasp at the near-bite and swipe at his head. Eddie dodges the blow by rolling onto his back, hair fanning out on the Eckers’ rug. He grins up at you, and all of a sudden the rise and fall of his chest in that worn-out Alice Cooper shirt is very distracting. 

Pretty girl. 

Yeah, she’s a very nice type.

You got types?

Only you, darling–

“--lanky brunettes with wicked jaws,” you say, beat-for-beat with William Powell. 

“Talkin’ about me?” Eddie says, lips peeling back, eyebrows quirking.

“Not in your wettest, wildest dreams, Eddie Munson.” 

“Oh, you don’t wanna know what happens in those dreams. It’s filthy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s twisted. It’s disgusting.” 

“I bet.”

His hand is absent-mindedly stroking his chest, shifting the hem of that t-shirt up a little bit. Brushstrokes. You remember that? Eddie Munson has a happy trail like– 

“You’re so nice to me. It’s so fffffucking hot.”

“How wildly out-of-character,” you scoff, and he laughs, and you shift in your spot the teensiest bit. Eyes back on the screen, back to safety. 

From here, where he’s lying, Eddie has a fully illustrated view of the flash of skin up your skirt. Now that you’re not looking at him, he’s looking at it. Swallowing back saliva. Ignoring Nick and Nora. 

It’d be simple as pie to walk his fingertips along the rug and brush up against you there–oops–by accident or design. Feel how soft that skin is. Feel that heat radiating from your–

“It’s alright,” he hums, eyes flicking to the ceiling. Otherwise, all the blood’s gonna drain away from his head and he’s going to fucking die. “I know I’m not your type anyway.”

Your head lolls to your other shoulder, exposing a flash of your neck. It’s sorely missing a tongue running along it, he thinks, breath shuddering a touch. 

“You wouldn’t know my type if it hit you with an eighteen wheeler.”

“Can Steve Harrington drive an eighteen wheeler?”

Lolling your head back in the most exaggerated form of exasperation, you groan. “God. The way you talk about Harrington, I’m willing to put money on the fact that you have a crush on him.”

Eddie shrugs, hand resting on his sternum. You had your hand there once, you recall.

“I got prescribed one on the first day of freshman year, just like everybody else. But it wore off.”

“Sure about that?” Your eyes narrow.

“Sure as I am that I saw you makin’ googly eyes at him at the Family Video tonight.” Eddie crosses his own peepers for effect. Your attention darts back to the screen.

“I was not–”

“You can just say it, Lace.” His face is a twisty little smirk, if you’d care to look. “Regardless of how utterly pedestrian it might be.” That was a dig at you, by the way. That was an almost eerie impression of you. 

“The things I felt in seventh grade don’t really have a lot of gravitational pull on me anymore,” you shrug, not giving. Because, when you think about it, you don’t have to give. It was a baseless kind of thrill, seeing Harrington tonight. One hit wonder. “He’s a cute boy. Reminded me I have a pulse. Nothing wrong with that.”

Eddie’s quiet for a few seconds, flicks his eyes up to watch the TV from upside down. Nick places an ice pack on a drunken Nora’s head. 

Hmm… what hit me? 

The last martini.

He smiles as you smile, and he wonders if you’re thinking of the same thing he’s thinking of. 

“Alright, well– we can forget this ever happened. Resume being assholes to each other on Monday. Don’t, like, die in the meantime.”

“You say resume like we ever stopped being assholes to each other.”

“Funny you mention seventh grade…” Eddie trails off, tugging at the rug underneath him.

“Funny ha-ha or funny peculiar?” Your voice is distant again. 

“Little bit of both.”

“Why?”

Well, he thought you might be fucking with him, but– “... God, you really don’t remember, do you?”   

“Remember what?” He sees your brow pinch, he’s getting to ya.

“Not a fucking clue.” No give, no glory, eyes on the peeling ceiling. 

“Remember what?” You’ve snapped your neck and are looking down at him now, thirsty for him to fucking spill it already.

“Total–” he blows a raspberry, “--blackout before freshman year, right?”

“Eddie.”

His name makes him sit up. Pavlovian, sure, and he’s trying to deny the fact that he’ll do just about anything you say when you call him Eddie in that slightly-tinged sour way and not Munson like you’re writing him off. He’s trying to deny that. He swears.

“Nancy Wheeler’s thirteenth birthday party.” 

You two are shoulder to shoulder, him facing the couch, you facing the screen, his breath warming the bare skin of your off-the-shoulder top which is an insane thing to be wearing in the dead of fucking winter, but praise Jesus hallelujah you’re wearing it. Your expression is unimpressed. 

“... yeah?”

“We played Seven Minutes in Heaven.” He lays that out a little too plain for your liking. Playing Seven Minutes in Heaven at a thirteen year old’s birthday party is like the non-denominational Hora for pseudo-white bread Christian teenagers, at least in Hawkins. Everybody does that shit. But hold on.

“... you were there?”

“Fucking obviously, dimwit, that’s the setup to the whole story.” He sighs in a puff, and he’s very close to you. Chin almost on your shoulder like that night at the Quarry. “Tommy Hagan ripped into me for like, fifteen full minutes because my spin of the bottle landed on you.”

Confusion is a disease and you’re terminal. “That was… not you.” 

Insistence is a disease and Eddie’s fatal. “Yes. It so was.”

“That was John Hudson-Wasserman.”

“That was not–,” Eddie full on splutters, like slapstick splutters, reeling his head away from you, “you’re gonna get me confused with John Hudson-Wasserman? The guy who was like, pathologically obsessed with the Kennedy assassination? The guy who moved to Des Moines like, two weeks after that party?”

Then you’re spluttering back all of a sudden. Everything you two are doing is contagious. “His parents named him after John F., can you blame him? –actually, I can totally blame him, that was bizarre.”

“Lacy.” Well, the way he says that straightens your spine. “Use that pretty little brain to think for a second, huh? There’s one unmistakeable detail I bet I can get to jog your memory.”

But you’re already there. Activated. Like a sleeper cell. 

“Your hair was all buzzed off. You had that bandage on your head.”

“I did. And you asked me what was under it, and I said–”

A hole. They cut out a part of my brain so I’d be– The Wheeler’s linen closet was tiny and you were breathing in lavender detergent from all angles. 

The boy in front of you, scrawny and angry, had an aura around him like a firework. You knew it was dangerous, but you wanted to look closer. 

–less of a freak? you finished. Such was the accusation du jour for this kid. 

Less of a danger to society, he said, chest puffed. They let me keep it in a jar. Just in case shit gets really real and I need to shove it back in. 

You don’t quite know what to do with that. Like. He is so weird, and his hair is unevenly shaved and he’s got little cuts and scratches and scabs all over him. Like he’s been running through brambles. He looks like a kid someone found in the wild. 

Did you name it? you ask, finger drawing circles on a nearby towel. Your jar brain.

Eddie Junior, he told you, crossing his arms. 

Aren’t you already Junior? Shouldn’t it be Junior Junior? 

His jaw hardened. No. I’m Eddie. 

You nudged forward on your toes to get a better look at the bandage– he was taller than you. It lumped out of his head, unmissable. Nothing to be done about it. 

He seemed to cringe away from you. 

Don’t try anything, skank. 

You bounce back onto your heels. 

I wasn’t, asshole. We don’t have to do anything– just… like… did it hurt? 

He paused for a full ten seconds (you counted) and swallowed real hard. Eyes wide as hubcaps, and dark, and frightened. He craned his neck toward you a little. 

Then the door swung open, Tina Burton standing there hand-in-hand with an irritated-looking Steve Harrington. Time’s up, losers! 

Al hadn’t asked if it hurt, when he beat the crap out of him for doing something so stupid. Wayne hadn’t even asked if it hurt, when Eddie came back from the hospital like a dog with its tail between its legs. 

You were the first, and you were the last, and it was before everything. Before you were even Lacy.

“What happened, anyway?” you ask. Soft. Like that last time.

Now, in retrospect, Eddie sees the error of his ways.

“I lit all my hair on fire with a butane torch.” 

“You what?!” 

“It’s not– entirely my fault! I think I saw someone with hair on fire in an X-Men comic and I thought, y’know, that’s an achievable look.” That’s a severe understatement. It was Johnny Storm from The Fantastic Four and Eddie believed that he could be like Johnny Storm only more badass and maybe with like a sick motorbike. What, you’re telling me you didn’t go through a pre-teen-to-mid-teen phase where you were secretly convinced you had superpowers? Smarten up. 

“And how high–”

“Yeah, okay, I was also hitting a Reddi-Wip can like crazy.” The nitrous oxide did not help these delusions. 

“Why the big bandage?”

“Eh, I got some, like, bitsy little burn. Total overreaction.”

“Do you have a scar?” Before he can answer, you’re parting his hair, right near the place you remember that bandage being. Eddie freezes, your frigid fingertips searching his scalp. You are… very close. 

“Uh– no, I don’t.” He gulps, avoiding looking at you directly in your bright, curious little face. “Can I tell you something truly fucking dumb?”

“Wouldn’t be out-of-character for you, that’s for sure.” 

Deep, deep breath. Fucking shit fucking goddammit fuck. Balls. “I regret it.”

“The hair thing? Yeah, you’d think–”

“No. Not kissing you.”

“Oh.” Your hands drop from his skull but don’t exactly leave his hair. Just kind of wound in there, hovering, the way you feel like you’re hovering now. 

“You asked me if it hurt, and then I was gonna�� but then, fucking Tina–” Eddie says, eyes dashing to you in these minute little glances. Away, back, away, back.

“Fuckin’ Tina,” you breathe. 

“--and Harrington.”

“Ah.” You shut your eyes. He didn’t notice you were wearing green eyeshadow until right now. “The square root of the problem.”

“Huh?” Barely heard it. Too busy looking at the glitter on your eyelids. The way your eyeballs shift around underneath.

“You’re totally lemon sour bitter with Harrington because you think he made you blow your shot with me.” You open your eyes with a squint.

“That is so not–” Break a spell, why dontcha! But then, Eddie takes a bite. “Actually, if you pop-psychology that, there might be somethin’ there, but… I regret it because I didn’t just–”

You cut in. “Go for it.”

“Shoot.” He confirms.

“Power. Forward.” You emphasize, lips curling.

“Cheer. Leader.” Eddie says, gravel in his voice.

Do you know that your hand is still in his hair? Like, are you physically aware of it? (Answer: no.)

Nick. Nicky?

What.

You asleep?

Yes.

Good. I wanna talk to you.

Your head swivels back from the screen. He watched you look away, dart your tongue out onto your lip, look back at him. 

“Eddie.” There’s fizz in your voice.

“Yes, Lacy.” He wonders what flavor. 

“I think…” and you finally extract your hand to lay it in your lap. Withdrawing, willing to be shot down, but you’re you and you know that you won’t be. “We could make a case for making up for lost time.”

Eddie’s mouth has become very dry. “... meaning that…”

“Eddie, I think that you should kiss me like a seventh grader– eighth grader? So weird, why did Wheeler have eight graders at her bir–”

“Lacy. Back on track, please,” which is another horrendously pin point perfect impression of you. And he needs to be sure that you just said what you just said and that isn’t the ghosts of Lipton landing talking.

“We should try it out. An honest-to-god, never-been-done-before Seven Minutes in Heaven kiss. I happen to think it’d fix something in you.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs.

“No, I’m serious!” And it is kind of fizzing out of you, and you might not be entirely just talking about him for this next part, “I think you’re holding onto a lot of pent up energy that may have just gotten even more pent since we became, y’know–”

“Zoo animals with parallel enclosures?” Eddie says with an arching eyebrow. 

“Wow,” you swallow a breath. “That really sounded like me.”

“I’m afflicted with a Lacyism from time to time.”

“Is that like astigmatism? Because you should get that looked at.”

“Who died and made you my optometrist?”

“Eddie.” Your voice, coming from your face, which is all dappled in the unserene technicolor glow of the Eckers’ Christmas lights, highlighted by the blaze of the black and white on TV. You make it look like stained glass. He would walk into oncoming traffic– “You trust me, right?” He would go and play on the freeway if you asked him to.

Eddie, Christ, he’s got to gather himself. Like the sweat gathering on his palms, he thinks, great work ethic, I need some of that. He gets a bright idea, brighter than those twinkling lights. “I think I need full authenticity in order to make this experience worth it.”

“What?”

“We need to find a closet.”

It’s pretty much a hard no on whether or not the Eckers have a linen closet (you’re a long way from Maple Lane now, babe), so it’s agreed that you’ll give Granny Ecker’s wardrobe a shot. You follow Eddie in there with tentative steps, like you can almost feel her watching all the way from the Best Western in Indianapolis she’s no doubt staying in. Trespassing is bad, yadda yadda, but it’s also exciting.

It’s exciting, being in here with him. 

He glances back at you, eyes a glimmer in the darkened bedroom. “After you,” and he flourishes a hand toward the open closet. 

You two are so not seventh graders anymore– heads bang against hangers, you’re kind of melting into a lot of denim and fleece and you… you don’t have much breathing room. No lavender detergent, just the beer-and-old-weed-sweet smell of Eddie Munson pushed close to flush against your chest. The scent of that shampoo you both use caught somewhere in the middle. 

Your breathing is so shallow, you feel like you might be having an asthma attack. You don’t have asthma. 

“Tight,” he says, and knits his brows, “I mean–”

“Cozy,” you correct, unsure of where to put your hands.

“We’re not cozy people.”

“So let’s do this,” you attempt to smooth your face into something resembling nonchalance, “Kiss me like a seventh-or-eighth grader, Eddie Munson.”

He clears his throat, shaking his head. A smile keeps flicking and dying on his lips. Heart about to burst out of his chest because of how weird this is, because of how weird you are, because of how– how– 

Eddie knits his fingers behind his back in an imitation of you, your girlish pose, and leans forward. About ninety percent, just in case you decide this was a stupid idea, or you don’t like the look of his face up close, or– or–

You close that perfect ten. Your lips feel like flower petals. Light. Baby-soft. Crushable.

It’s so chaste and it’s so innocent. It’s so the diametric opposite of the two of you, brash and harsh in your diverging, abstracting ways– waving only to meet in the middle. It’s pretty, like you are, and Thumper-from-Bambi-thumping-his-foot nervous like he gets around you.  

You pull away a fraction, and Eddie swallows a sound. To save face, he is about to say something– I give it a six or that’s what I’ve been missing out on this whole time or you flap that mouth an awful lot for someone who doesn’t know how to use it, something equally goading. Something that would make this… normal.

Until you take his bottom lip between yours. And it’s wet there. And it’s warm. And your lips are so, so crushable– 

Eddie’s fingers unweave and find your arms, find your waist. Slow, slow, he takes it slow because he could scare you and he doesn’t want to scare you. You’re curving into him, lips slicking against his, and then his tongue licking it’s way into your mouth which you just fucking open for him and it’s so good–

–and he tastes like salt and smoke and he holds you like he’s anchoring himself against you. Your hands wind on up, up, up his chest, catching on his t-shirt where his chest is (duh duh duh you fucking idiot), where his heart is thrumming under that smatter of a tattoo you got caught staring at that night in his trailer. It’s all you’ve got in you not to tug it up and off him, but Christ, no, because you need to keep kissing him. It’s so nice, it feels so nice, kissing him, when was the last time something felt as nice, that’s all you can think with sensation seeping through your body like a sugar rush. Hands move to either side of his neck and he makes a noise. 

Your fingers, fishing hooks in his hair, pulling him closer and closer to you. 

The heat. Of his body. Matched only by the heat gathering in the cherry pit that lives in your stomach. 

And he needs, god, Eddie needs it fucking bad. It is a lot of things. It includes your tongue so far inside his mouth that you can taste the Tab on his uvula this time. It includes more of your tits pressed against him, so he can feel if your nipples have hardened under his touch. It includes this moment, just this moment, just kissing you as your body winds around him–

But then you pull back. Before he can whisper the little, “No…” that’s coming like a reflex, you cover his mouth with your hand. The mouth that’s all slick from kissing– you. 

Jesus Christ. You had really done that. The stupid, idiot both of you. 

“Guys?”

Eddie, dizzy and down-the-rabbit-hole tipsy Eddie, gets the impulse to lick your hand, to take your fingers in his mouth and just start sucking, but he doesn’t do it. Because he has now snapped to the fact that that’s Ronnie Ecker calling out for you. 

The two of you, twisted around each other like snakes in her grandmother’s closet. 

“Go,” you hiss– no, you breathe. He was just expecting you to hiss. But you’re breathy and unsure about the command you’re giving. Still, you jerk your head. 

Well, Eddie’s pretty hard up about telling you this, but, “Can’t. Need a sec–” Like, can’t you feel that?

Eddie’s standing more than half to attention, pressing in between the both of you. 

You let out a jagged breath that sounds like oh, fuck, and it’s not the kind of oh, fuck he was hoping to hear and his heartbeat stutters. 

And then you’re gone. 

Eddie stands there, hands held aloft around the ghost of you that was there, that was right there and kissing him. Like you meant it, like it wasn’t an experiment or a joke or a dare or anything other than what you wanted. You wanted him. You wanted him. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” he breathes into his hands, dragging them down his face, his lips, the smell of you still lingering around him. “Oh… I am so fucked.”

Kentucky fried fucked. 

You make your way back to the living room on trembly legs, reaching for every steadying surface, attempting to destroy the evidence of a swollen mouth and Munson-finger ruffled hair. You find Ronnie sitting upright on the couch. Nick and Nora have nearly solved the case. You don’t give yourself enough time to make a mask of your face that could easily lie to her. 

“Munson had to pull trig,” you say, and it’s not steady enough for Ronnie to not call bullshit.

But she doesn’t. Not outright anyway.

“He okay?” she asks, nearly wary.

“I don’t know. Could be comin’ out of both ends, I don’t know,” you start scrambling around for your bag and your shoes and your coat and not your right mind because you left that back in the closet, somewhere between Eddie’s teeth and tongue. “Look, I hate to ditch on you, but my mom–”

“She’ll be on your ass,” Ronnie says, measured like a cup. “Sure. Go on. I’ll think about calling 911 if he chokes.”

Breathing out some piss-poor rendition of a thanks, you dip out of Ronnie’s and past his van and all the way back the lot towards home. 

It’s freezing. You’re not. For once.

When Eddie finally reappears from the closet, Ronnie is sitting in the exact same position. Except this time she looks somewhat judgier– maybe because it’s easier to be judgier toward Eddie than it is toward you. Some kind of girl politico he doesn’t understand. 

“You feel better?”

“Huh?” Eddie says. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Do you feel better. Lacy told me you had to barf.”

“I… I guess.” Eddie has already cashed in his once-in-a-lifetime lie convincingly to Ronnie Ecker voucher. 

“She also told me you maybe shit yourself?”

Alright, well, that was unnecessary. “Alright, well, that was unnecessary.”

“I guess I was just hoping that…” she sighs, crossing her arms, “... that you weren’t puking and shitting yourself…” she sits back against the couch, “... when you were making out with her. In my… bathroom?”

He really does consider leaving out this detail. “Granny’s closet.”

“Oh, you’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“She’ll know. She’ll kill me.”

“Oh, she’ll kill ya,” Ronnie mutters, “And then I’ll go to work on ya.”

—

You two have got to stop fucking each other over like this.

Fucking each other over, conceptually, actually, is interesting. Because Eddie’s done a whole lot of fucking you over in his mind since that closet. Sliding your panties aside and fucking you with his tongue, polyester lace of your stockings creating static against his hair, sparks snapping off your inner thighs as you rub against his nose. 

Following you back to your trailer and fucking you with his fingers against the cold, metal exterior, your nails digging into his neck and your voice stabbing his name into his eardrums. 

Pulling you into his lap in the driver’s seat and tearing through the cotton of your underwear with sheer animalistic fervor, making you lean back against the steering wheel as he sucks your tightened nipples, cock safe and warm in the slick, deep wet of you. 

Somethin’ like that. He didn’t sleep much this weekend.

Mind stuck on the one track, your lips smacking against his. Now in fabulous 3D!

In every single one of these fantasies, too, his idiot sap ass is whining your name fifty billion times more than you’re whining his– so much so that it breaks the fantasy barrier and he’s crying, “Fuck, Lacy-yy–,” into his limp pancake of a pillow, cum careening down a fist that should have nerve damage by now. 

He is exhausted. And to make it worse, he hasn’t seen you. 

He hasn’t even been avoiding you this time. So that’s all on you, you bitch.

“You bitch…” he mumbles, head resting against the cold brick of the newly-unisex senior bathroom, which has become a hellhole in no time. First period on a Monday is usually an okay time to get a bit of peace and fucking quiet, though, because everyone else is at least making an attempt at starting the week off on the right foot. 

But not Eddie. Not worn out, prick-tired Eddie. 

And not whoever is doing a horrible job of hyperventilating in the stall next to him. 

“Excuse me?” a breathless voice says. He thinks he kinda recognizes it but–

Then, ew! Some gagging, some violent coughing, a little ugh, Jesus, please not again–

Eddie slides out of his stall and knocks on the next door– and it swings open with ease. 

She’s crouched over the cistern–gross, fucking gross–and tears are streaming down her peachy cheeks, catching on her pointed chin. 

“Christ, Wheeler. S’matter, you pregnant?”

Nancy Wheeler’s eyes flash in a flare of rage, a choked scoff spitting out of her. She’s about to fucking cuss Eddie out, it looks like, which he kind of wants to see, but then whatever straw that’s holding that together snaps and she lets out this wild sob of total incredulity. 

Ohhh, as much as he would love to bolt out the door like it’s not his problem, Eddie realizes that this has now, somehow, somewhat become kind of his problem. 

—

“I gotta talk to you.” 

Ronnie Ecker appears like a lightning flash, knocking you clean out of your reverie of slowly crawling fingers and lips and teeth and guilt that had been plaguing you all weekend. 

You had spent most of the last forty eight hours staring into the middle distance, ready to glue upright nails into your shoes and walk on them for penance. You fucking stupid slut. Kiss me like a seventh-eighth grader, Eddie Munson. You unbelievable fucking cowshit. See, because, okay, do you know what you’ve done?

You’ve taken the first real friendship you’ve possibly ever had in your life (save for Phoebe, God rest her soul that moved to Saskatoon) and completely entirely fucked it sideways, and sure, you’ve also spent a lot of the weekend thinking about other things getting fucked sideways, like you since you’re now cursed with the knowledge of the vague suggestion of the outline of Eddie Munson’s dick but moreso, foremostly and mainly you want to fucking take a swandive off the edge of Sattler’s Quarry. 

Addendum– there’s too many quarries in this fucking county. 

A ping-ponging of guilt-to-orgasm-to-guilt-to-orgasm-to-guilt-to-orgasm-to-guilt-to-slinking your way to first period the long way that’s only now broken by Ronnie Ecker coming down on you like an Acme anvil.

Meep meep.

She knows. Of course she knows.

“Ronnie,” you whisper, eyes following her as she lands herself into the aforementioned Munson’s seat behind you, “I can explain…”

“Don’t!” There is this vigor, this knife’s edge in Ronnie’s voice that is terrifying and kind of thrilling but mostly scary and having been in the presence of Granny Ecker even those few times, you knew she always had it in her. 

You recoil. A little.

“If Eddie wants to be a fucking moron about you, please can we just let him, and not–” Ronnie’s mouth clamps closed like a Muppet’s might. Like she’s physically trying to calm herself down. “Look. I really like being your friend.”

Oh, Christ, your heart. “I r– I–”

“You’re dogshit with the emotional stuff, I get that, but I’ve been friends with that asshole so long that wearing my heart on my sleeve is like, second fucking nature so I’m not and I’m pissed off, frankly, that there’s a chance of him coming between, like… us.”

You and Ronnie. You, and your friend Ronnie. “Oh, it’s–”

“Because technically, by absolute technicality, I was your friend first, okay? We were lab partners first and I thought we had a vibe goin’ in Biology and I was the first person you wanted to talk to at the Hellfire table even if it was a thinly veiled ploy but you’re so good at ploys and you’re such a piece of work and you’re so funny and I wouldn’t know what Ponds cold cream actually does if it wasn’t for you. Fuck.”

“Granny’s a soap and water girl.” There’s a fluttering in your chest and a thickening in your throat. You swallow big, and you think you might actually start– “This doesn’t mean I’m gonna try fencing, Ron.”

“But it’s fucking cool, even if we do it with sticks.”

You take her in, baseball cap shoved over her coiled hair, darned-all-to-hell sweater sagging out under her overalls and you really feel like something is about to bust out of your chest. Your honest-to-god friend, Ronnie Ecker. 

“Miss Ecker, last time I checked, that’s not your assigned seat.” God, Kaminsky’s such a relentless dickwad.

“I’m having a conversation,” Ronnie says, with the kind of as-yet-unheard volume from her that makes the rest of the class go ooooh!

Jesus fucking Christ, have you turned Ronnie Ecker into a bad girl?

“I don’t give a shit!” rumpled Kaminsky says, slapping that dusty chalkboard duster full of dust, “Have it in detention.”

“Hey! That’s–”

But if you can do one thing for Ronnie. “No can doozy, Mr K, Miss Ecker has a prior commitment.” 

“Oh, Jesus Christ, not you again,” he mumbles not-quite-under his breath. “And what is that? Lacy?”

Before you can even say the words peer tutoring, none other than Eddie Munson is barrelling through the door. He stops comically short at the top of the classroom, gesturing to Ronnie in his seat like what the fuck? 

“Lacy!” he eventually says, and he’s breathless and flustered and just like you imagined him in–

“Munson, what in the name of the goddamn Father Almighty–”

“Weekly Streak–” and guy is just snapping his fingers, blinking wildly at you, “–thing!”

You stare on in a state of confusion until you spy Nancy Wheeler right in your eyeline, right through the open classroom door. Her little face streaked with tears, and god, she looks like shit, and she’s beckoning to you with a flutter and a fury. 

“No, of course!” a little murmuring, uh, shit, and you hurry to the top of the classroom, slamming the homework that Kaminsky’s obviously going to ask for on his desk with a rattle. 

“Kaminsk, my man, the future of print media is forever in your debt!” Eddie calls, ushering you out the door and into the echoey hallway. 

“What is going on?”

Both Eddie and Nancy shuffle you down the hallway, avoiding the monitors (rat finks!), dipping under the east stairwell. A great stairwell. So much illicit shit has happened in this stairwell and you have an itemized list of it all, somewhere in your brain. The kind of person people tell things to.

Nancy’s just full tilt gulping like a fish out of water, and Eddie’s all, “Wait, shit, are you gonna barf again?” and you’re all, “Answers, please, tout suite!”

“I’m late.” Nancy’s voice doesn’t even tremble. She’s that scared.

“Fuck.”

“Very?”

“Extremely.”

“You’re sure?” you press, and suddenly you’re the kind of person that grabs Nancy Wheeler’s shoulders. 

Her lip trembles. “I mean, I haven’t–” 

“Well, we gotta. Right now.” And it occurs to you that Eddie is just standing there, a polite enough distance away that he’s involved but kind of not involved, but respecting the space that you two need. How does he know how to do that? How does he always know the right… “Eddie.” 

He snaps to attention, mouth all serious and eyes all eager. You want to kiss him again, but this shit is not about you. 

“We need a ride to the drugstore.” 

The three of you pile into Eddie’s van, him insisting on doing the honors of opening the passenger door for you again, and Nancy quietly requesting that you share the passenger seat with her. You two are squished together, her spindly thighs overlapping yours. Denim versus dark suede. There is a very tense silence in place the entire van ride there, Nancy digging her nails into her palm and Eddie nervously thrumming against the steering wheel. The tape deck plays resumes mid-play– Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. 

For your part, you experience a harsh zoom-out moment– Nancy, who you’ve learned is almost as strong-headed as you, just on a better moral track (lawful good versus chaotic neutral, you think Eddie once framed it), is stranded. She’s the eldest sibling to that little shitstain Michael and Holly, who’s a baby so to you has no discernible personality, and her mother is kind of an airhead and her father… you don’t know shit about, but it’s Hawkins, so dads. The responsibility of everything seems to fall on her all the time, and you can only be so resourceful as a teenage girl in a town like this. Especially when the other teenage girls seem to, at best, keep you at arm’s length, or at worst, ostracize you. 

And Nancy had lost Barbara Holland. Who, when she mentions her, is talked about with such a glow that’s followed by such a wave of sadness that it nearly takes you under too.

She misses her so much. She misses her best friend so much. 

Barb should be the one dealing with this. Not you. Which sounds like you’re shirking responsibility. But really, it’s because you don’t know if you fully deserve the privilege of helping Nancy. 

Truth is, Nancy would probably be okay, handling this on her own. Sure, it’d be another inch of depth added to the chasm of loneliness building in that poor girl’s psyche, but she’d do it, because she’s Nancy and she handles things.

Just like you’re Lacy and you handle things. 

But however Eddie Munson ended up as part of this situation… he brought her to you. Because he knew you’d know what to do. So she wouldn’t have to do it alone. 

Because Eddie doesn’t want people to do things alone. 

You only really have that impulse if you know how terrible it feels. 

And if you don’t see kindness as a weakness.

Which Nancy doesn’t. And Eddie doesn’t. And you… don’t want to, anymore.

You reach and peel Nancy’s fingernails from the grooves they’re digging into her flesh. You don’t even look at the half-moon marks they’ve made. You just glue her palm to your palm and web your fingers. And over the frizz of Nancy’s perm–the nice kind, salon kind, the kind that doesn’t stink of egg–you look at Eddie, just as he glances at you.

He smiles, small and unsure and wavering. You bite your lips between your teeth and try the same. 

“Shit, I don’t think I can go in here.” 

The van has skidded into an inconspicuous (but not entirely, because have you seen that fucking vehicle) place near the drugstore.

“Why?”

“People– the pharmacist knows my mom and everything,” Nancy shudders, “There’s no way that people won’t have something to– fucking say.”

Eddie’s eyes widen and you give him a look like, welcome to the Nancy Wheeler Actually Swears Club. Care for a canape?

And y’know, you could argue so what. So what if people have something to say. You’re young, mistakes happen, the world keeps turning. But one skip in a perfect twelve-inch record of reputation like Nancy’s can make her life a living hell. You know that. 

Shit, she knows that– you weren’t not aware of that stroke of creative genius vandalism that went up on the Hawk marquee that one time.  

And it would shatter Nancy’s mom’s heart. And while you don’t have the same time of day for her, Nancy really loves her mom. 

Once you’ve ruined your reputation, you can live quite freely. 

That moveable feast motherfucker was onto something. 

Click, and Eddie’s glovebox pops open in a clatter of tapes and a one-hitter and other ephemera. You reach in, retrieving sunglasses you’d left in here a little bit ago. 

“So let’s give ‘em something to talk about,” you say, sliding on the shades. 

Nancy clutches your arm, eyes wide and searching. “Lacy.”

You shrug, like it’s nothing. Except nerves have started nibbling at you. “Spot me a ten. What am I, a goddamn Rockefeller?”

“Not anymore,” Eddie Munson grins at you. Sun breaking through the bleak midwinter. The nerves cease their nibbling. 

—

The tension doesn’t exactly ease when you make a beeline for the drugstore (particularly because you’ve just accepted a goddamn miniature hero’s quest and he’s a little… well, he’s not not watching your ass as you walk away, let’s put it that way). 

Eddie and Nancy Wheeler are still absolutely enormous universes apart. Not even the same species. He doesn’t mind keeping it that way. This right here is just, like… the right thing to do. 

He moves to turn the radio down, figuring that the thrum of Fade to Black might be a little much for her right now. “Sorry. Didn’t mean for–”

“No, it’s okay.” Wheeler smiles that flat, priss smile reserved for the barest of polite gestures. 

Eddie nods, propping his elbow against the window, cupping his face in his hand. He keeps kind of sneaking sidelong glances toward Wheeler, because– well, had you told her anything? About… Seven Minutes in Heaven? Does she even remember that, from her birthday party all that time ago? He knew that you two weren’t exactly tight, but were well on your way to getting tight, but not as tight as you are with Ronnie and certainly not as tight as you are–or were–with him and Jesus Christ almighty, he’s got to find a synonym for the word tight.

“You… play Dungeons and Dragons, right?” Wheeler asks all of a sudden.

Eddie glances down– he is in fact wearing his Hellfire shirt. She’s a sharp one, that Nancy.

“I dabble,” he says, a derisive little chuckle that’s not all-the-way mean spirited.

Wheeler bobs her head. “My brother, Mike,” she says, and he sees now that it’s an effort to keep her nerves steady, “he loves it. Like, he’s totally obsessed. Him, and his friends, they’ve got their own little party going. Majorly long campaigns, very involved.” 

“Campaigns, parties. Using terminology like that, I’d say you’re something of a dabbler, Wheeler.”

Nancy chuckles. “I– may have dressed up as an elf for one. Or two. When I was way, way younger, though.”

“Well, your brother– Mike?” Eddie checks and Nancy nods, “Once he gets to high school, why dontcha tell him to look up Hellfire. Could be the best-worst decision he’ll make for the next four years of his life.”

“Right, because you’ll be passing the torch,” she says, grinning.

“And possibly to a Wheeler. Oh my stars and garters,” Eddie gasps, clutching his chest in mock-shock. 

Wheeler laughs and, okay, maybe she’s not so bad.

“Shoot, we have movement.” And out you come, holding the Advance pregnancy test over your head, gleaming and victorious– but Eddie and Nancy flap their hands, willing you to put that fucking thing away! We’re being subtle!

Climbing back in the van, you announce, “Alright, so the good news– no doctoral interference, obviously. The wonders of modern medicine, everybody give thanks to Johnson and Johnson, et cetera. The bad news– who knows of somewhere we can steal–” you glance back at the box, “--thirty glorious uninterrupted minutes of time?”

“Lacy, I can just–” Nancy starts, but you stop her short with a tap to the head. 

“And have you sitting in class all day with your guts churning because you don’t know what’s up or down that spout? I think the fuck not. We’re doing this now.” This is out of the goodness of your heart, you swear it is. 

But there might be a fraction, just a generous sliver, that still loves the drama. 

Like Steve Harrington, it’s not an immediate shed of the ego. It’s a slough. 

“Well, my place is a no-go,” Nancy tells you, shrugging into herself. “My mom will definitely be home.”

“Ditto,” and your mother is the only person you know that loves gossip more than you do. Besides Eddie, of course. 

After a beat or two of wondering silence, Eddie raises a hand. “I may… have someplace… we can go.”

—

How many cherry bombs does it take to make a boy’s bathroom look like the bombing of Dresden?

“So fuuun fact, turned out that some nerd swiped a hunk of sodium from the Chemistry lab and just blew this mother to shit,” Eddie brightly informs you and Nancy as the two of you pour over the instructions for the pregnancy test kit. 

“While everyone was distracted by Heather Holloway’s implants, you mean?” you murmur, scanning over the small-sheet size booklet.

“Streets are saying she was an accomplice.”

Holy fuck, these instructions were involved. Nancy stands clutching the little rectangular tray that her pee is supposed to go in, nailing Eddie with a look beyond normal categorical nerves. “You’re sure no one’s gonna come in here?” 

He shakes his head. There might as well be police tape all over the door of this bathroom, that’s how off limits it is. “It’s cold, it’s broken, it smells gross. Maybe some people are using this place to huff paint, but I can guarantee, Wheeler–” and he bends a little to meet her earnest eyes, “--I will bark like a fucking rabid dog to clear ‘em away if I need to.” 

Nancy nods shortly. Jerk, jerk. She disappears into the least dilapidated stall with her pee rectangle. 

“God, she is so scared,” Eddie murmurs to you, crossing his arms. 

You’re still studying the instructions. This shit has droppers and test tubes and color changing strips, oh my. “Pissing shouldn’t be a problem, then.”

Wrong.

“Guys.”

“Yes?” “Yeah, Wheeler?”

“I’m a little, ahem–” Bladder shy. Perfect. Awesome. Not that you guys aren’t going to be shacked up here for thirty minutes anyway, but that’s only after Nancy Wheeler goes number one and you, like, mix up the pregnancy oracle potion. 

Shit. “We’ve gotta do something to like, make her chill out–” Eddie half-mouths at you. 

“Yeah, but she’s so high strung, that’s like–” a spark hits you. “Wait, have you got anything on you?”

“Fresh out. Waiting on a shipment from Lipton landing.” 

You smack him, not even thinking, and he winces. “And all that shit you were smoking the other day, that was–” “That was market research, babe, and I told you that–”

Nancy clears her throat from inside the stall. “Please, don’t quit bickering on my account. I’m only trying to figure out whether or not I need to start rehearsing lullabies.” 

Damn Nancy, Eddie mouths and you almost laugh. Wait.

“Nance, what’s your favorite song?” 

“Huh?”

You shake your hands. “Like, the song you absolutely cannot go without hearing? The one that makes you feel, just–”

“Ticklish?” Eddie suggests, the paragon of knowledge, the pinnacle of your annoyance. You thump him again. “I need a safe word.”

“Um– uh…”

“C’mon, Wheeler, the song that makes you feel just… awesome and chill and on top of the fucking world, c’mon!” Eddie encourages, kicking detritus around the bathroom floor.

Nancy eventually, eventually mumbles something. 

You pivoting around on your heel by the sink. “Louder, Wheeler, I wasn’t born with sonar.”

“It’s– it’s ‘Just What I Needed’.”

What? Eddie mouths to you, arms binding across his chest. 

“What, like– The Cars, ‘Just What I Needed’?”

A pause from Nancy’s end. “... yeah.”

You know this song. You know that song, right, it’s like duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-DEW-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-DEW… Shaking yourself out, you brace up like a boxer heading into the ring. 

“Gimme a lead in, Nancy.” Holy fucking shit, you’re really doing this. Nancy hesitates, probably because she can’t believe any of you are really doing this. 

A mumble… “I don’t mind you comin’ here…”

“--and wastin’ all my time!” you jump in, “”cause when you’re standin’ oh so near, I kinda lose my mind…” 

Visions of a plush lilac bedroom, yours, and a mountain of clothes and makeup and drained wine cooler bottles on the floor. You, standing on your bed in your socks and shorts, vamping– Tina and Carol singing hairbrush backup, Nicole on air guitar and Cass smoking out the window. There were flashes of this, you know, when it wasn’t all boiling vitriol and subtle shivving and one-up-manship. When you and those girls that you wished you weren’t near but knew you needed actually felt like friends. 

A memory like that makes you feel empty. 

“It’s not the perfume that you wear,” oh my god, “It’s not the ribbons–in–your–hair,” is he really, “And I don’t mind you comin’ here– and wastin’ all my time!”

Why the fuck does Eddie Munson know this song?! Your jaw drops open, your eyes go wide and your feet stamp against the tile like a goddamn kid. Yes! Yes! Amazing! You’re both so fucking out of tune, like there is absolutely a reason he does not sing a single note in Corroded Coffin but by god alive, you’re giving it everything you got in that fucked up boy’s bathroom. 

Eddie’s so much better at it than you are, pouring every bit of obnoxious showmanship into it that he possibly can– complete with pulling you in for a fully nonsensical dance number. You spin into him, crashing into his chest with a clumsiness you never thought possible, laughing so hysterically that you can barely get the words out. He’s holding the reins, and holding that falsetto so badly you think the mirrors will shatter. 

Your skin is buzzing, your heart is hammering and Eddie is pressed against your back and you are both scream-singing to the door of Nancy’s cubicle– “I guess you’re just what I needed! Just what I needed! I needed someone to feed– I guess you’re just what I needed! Just what I needed I needed someone to–”

“Pee! Pee, you guys, I’m peeing!” Nancy’s voice, bright and high from actually laughing, rings from the busted toilet. 

You and Eddie erupt into a triumphant yell, him shaking you like a rag doll against him. The laughter peels away and then it’s just kind of him, looking at you from over your shoulder. His arms wrapped tight around your waist. His lips, a little cracked. Breath a little labored. Lashes still so long. You nearly–

The door flings open and he jumps away from you first. Nancy heads toward the sink and you resume the position, helping her figure out the Chemistry play set that holds the answer to how the rest of her life pans out. Thirty whole minutes, they’ve got to wait. 

Nancy notes the time on her watch. 

She even suggests that you guys can go at one point, but Eddie reminds her that a) he’s keeping an eye out for paint huffers and b) “... y’know, maybe it’s not so great to…” “Do this on your own,” you finish for him. Nancy nods, silent and grateful and so fucking nervous. 

At about the seventeen minute mark, when you and Eddie have smoked four cigarettes each and Nancy has tried a puff of one (“Nope,” she hacks, “still totally vile…”), Eddie tosses this stink bomb between you two. Nancy has excused herself to stand with her head against the cubicle door. Something about calming her nerves. Coming up with a plan. Something to tell Steve, no doubt. 

So it’s just you and Eddie, you sitting on the edge of the sink and Eddie rhythmically kicking the wall. 

“You ever wanna be a mom?”

“Jesus, what a time to land that one on me.” You almost make a joke like you haven’t even stuck it in me yet, but that’s in bad taste. And implies a yet. 

Eddie smiles over his shoulder, fluttering his eyelashes. Stupid. Stupid eyelashes. “Grounds of relevance.”

You pinch your lips between your teeth. “... fine. But, I fully reserve the right to change my answer given the fact that we are eight-shitting-teen years old.”

He points to the cubicle and mutters, “Well, she’s seventeen.”

You, wide-eyed at his dumbassery, mouth I know!

“Okay. Sorry. Go.”

“Fuuuuuck no. No babies pour moi, merci, c’est bon, au revoir!”

Eddie turns to lean against the wall, propping one leg up. God, but he does lean great. 

“Why?”

“Genetic fate.”

“Huh?”

A sigh flutters out of you, shoulders slumping forward. “A certain… how do you say, thread of assholery runs through my family, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.” 

Eddie nods sagely and you kind of want to punch him for it. “Daddy issues. Right.”

“Uh!” A hand flies up in your defense. “Let who among us here without them cast the first stone.”

From the cubicle, Nancy calls, “Not me.”

Surrendering, Eddie grumbles, “Yeah, not me either.”

“Glad we agree.”

There’s another tick and tock of silence, and you get the distinct feeling of something being pried open in the atmosphere. 

“... whatever happened with your dad, anyway?”

Ah. The million dollar question. Whatever happened with your dad, so-called upstanding member of the Hawkins community, poor little poor boy done rich, scaling his way up the ladder of property management in this delightful little Midwestern enclave?

“Not a big fan of the news, are we, Munson?”

He seems to grimace at you tugging on his surname. “Print’s too small.”

“Taking offense to that,” Nancy chimes. 

“It was the big ‘E’,” you say, kind of not into bantering about it. 

“‘E’... ‘E’... ‘E’...” Eddie kicks the wall on each utterance. Possibly forgetting that he could also be the big ‘E’, if he wanted. You wonder if, just in terms of size…

“Embezzlement, Eddie,” you cut that thought off cold. 

His eyes widen, eyebrows shooting under his shaggy bangs. “Shooooot.”

“Score.”

“What all did he, like… embezzle?”

The raising of the hackles is not entirely intentional. “Y’know who’d be able to answer that question, Eddie?”

But he sees it. He calms it. In unison, you both shrug, “Al Munson.”

Boom! Cubicle door flies open again. You’re starting to think that Nancy might just love making an entrance. Lot of flourishing happening here. Not entirely unlike Eddie in that way. 

“It’s time.” 

Each and every one of you beeline to where the test is set up on one of the sinks. Nancy gingerly plucks the offending strip from the test tube and Eddie, a man with money on his mind, asks another million dollar question. “So how do you know…”

You grab the instruction leaflet that you’d been tearing corners off of, making it look nearly moth-bitten. “Wait, it’s white, right?”

“It’s white,” Nancy whispers.

“It’s not, like… off blue, or…”

“No, that is white,” she’s trembling. “Is white– is that good, or– I can’t remember.”

“Nancy Wheeler…” you breathe, peeking over the paper, “Congratulations. You are nobody’s mother!” 

She emits a shriek like nothing you’ve ever heard and barrels straight into you, near knocking you off your feet with a strength you didn’t know this little waif was capable of possessing. Her arms wrap boa constrictor tight around you, her words bubbling over like a shook up can of pop. “Jesus Christ, I’m so relieved, I just– I–!”

“You’re relieved?!” Eddie yells, ringed hands tearing down his face, “I’m way too young to be an uncle! Fuck! Thank god!”

Nancy chokes out a laugh through her tears, tears of relief, thank god and– and you don’t know if it’s selfish and you don’t know if it’s possible but you hope… you hope that’s helped close the chasm. Just a little bit. That she didn’t have to do this all alone in a shithouse bathroom that smells like sulfur and piss. 

Breaking away from you (damn, you wish you knew how to hug), Nancy straightens herself up. Not that she needs to. She’s a pretty crier, that bitch. 

“Just one more thing, you guys.” 

“Anything,” you say before you even know you’ve said it. 

“This is… between us, okay?” her eyes dart from you to Eddie, and you both take a step closer to her. Ceremoniously, Nancy holds out her two pinkie fingers. You link. Eddie links. His finger looks comically large compared to hers– and yours, when he reaches and hooks it around your unsuspecting baby finger. 

“No one can know. No one needs to know.” There’s that headstrong Wheeler reserve you’d been missing. 

“Cross my heart,” you proclaim.

“Hope to d– well, I don’t hope to die, that’s a little dramatic–”

“Eddie!” you both bark, varying degrees of amusement. Yours is on the lower end. “Swear on something real,” you push. 

He hesitates a moment, then gives Nancy a look. “Alright. Swear on Hellfire.” 

“Swear on Hellfire,” Nancy grins all tight, and kisses her right hand, hooked into Eddie’s finger. “Lacy?”

“Swear on Hellfire…” You mumble, rolling your eyes and kissing your Nancy’d hand. You need to swallow, first, before you tug your hand that’s hooked into Eddie’s toward your mouth. 

And he does the worst thing. He leans down to meet your gaze, suckering you right in as his lips pout. They’re hungry. You’ve met those lips. “Swea-aar,” he sing-songs. 

“--on Hellfire, okay,” you scoff, half-laughing into the little kiss. 

“Ha!” Eddie barks, so fucking loud that it jumps off the walls. “Trick! You just made a deal with the devil, ladies, so I hope you enjoy eternal damnation at the hands of yours truly!”

Dumb as he is, Eddie might be right. If the way you’re looking at him is anything to go by.

author's notes: MERRY CHRISTMAS MOTHERFUCKERS. WE GOT IT WE DID IT WE MADE THEM KISS WE MADE THEM REALIZE SOMETHINGS NOT ALL THE THINGS SURELY BUT IT'S. IT'S SOMETHING. IT'S A START! on to the fun bits, like the jokes in the christmas crackers - absolutely obsessed with the mental image of eddie munson's bangs grown too long and he looking like this - cherry bombs down the john is a reference to the classic prank but mostly to american graffiti my beloved. later in the chapter, eddie says that some kid just threw some sodium down there which is something i read about on this reddit thread when researching cherry bombs. domestic terrorism at hawkins high! - p.t. barnum is that mfer that the greatest showman is based on. horrible man! not a fan! - heather holloway's jayne mansfield titties got me thinking about the jayne mansfield-sophia loren photo which has its own wikipedia page??? anyway, lacy coded! - black christmas is a stunning christmas horror film from 1974, which is loosely in part based on a bunch of murders that happened in the westmount neighborhood in montreal, quebec. fun fact, i just moved back from mtl after living there for a year. anyway black christmas kicks ASS - lipton landing is 100% a juno reference. big up my king elliot page - the thin man is one in a series of fantastic lil films from the 1930s all about nick and nora charles, a married couple that get drunk and SOLVE CRIMES. i'm not doing it justice by describing it that way but myrna loy and william powell are the royals of married banter and i model everything i write after their rhythm, more or less. - you're trying to tell me eddie munson didn't do whippets as a kid fucking wise up - one of my personal precious favourite recurring jokes in this series is 'who died and made you my x' and baby. i love a recurring joke - ronnie saying "oh she'll kill ya. then i'll go to work on ya," is a special reference because a) it's from my favourite film of all time, ocean's eleven and b) ayo edebiri, who i've fancast as ronnie ecker, has an ocean's eleven tattoo. we are sisters and also wives! - meep meep! - all i could think about when writing about how guilty lacy was - another metallica needle drop!!!! - pregnancy tests in the 80s really were that insane and involved! there's a great scene in glow (rest in fucking PEACE! gone but never forgotten) of alison brie's character using one, and here's more of the history - maybe the best needle drop of this whole series imo - finally peeped into those daddy issues. look forward to more of that and with that my hellcats, i wish you the merriest of holiday seasons wherever you find yourself and whatever you're doing. i will be back after the christmas break because i have to fully wreck my bank account and see every single person i have ever known and drink every espresso martini on dry land. sorry if there's typos in this, i have been labouring over it for... ever. reblogs, comments, likes and asks are always appreciated and i love you so much it's bordering on criminal! thank you!!!!

[dotster001]

Hi lovely! May I ask for the twisted wonderland dorm leaders reaction to piercings. (Nipples, septum, lip, industrial, bridge etc))

A/N: I wasn't sure if you meant on reader or them....so I did all of the above! Hopefully I hit what you were looking for 😂

3k masterlist

CW: religious fear in Riddle's part, but it's an if you know you know kind of thing 😂 😭

 In general, Riddle will always start out as anti piercing. His mother raised him that piercings are from the devil (or the devil equivalent in twst) and should be ever pierce his body with a needle, he would be thrown in the fiery flames for all eternity. So…he's anti piercing

That said, if he had to pick one he wanted, he'd go for a navel piercing. That way, the gods (and his mother) would never know he had it. He'd probably go for a simple ruby.

He doesn't react too much to piercings on other people. He just never thinks about it, even though he's always thinking about it for himself. So your piercings wouldn't phase him.

He's simplistic. A favorite piercing he'd have for you, is a simple nose stud. Maybe a ruby to match his hypothetical navel stud.

I'm totally blanking on what he looks like, but if he doesn't have piercings now, he will as soon as he's out of the public eye. Once Cheka is of age, he knows no one will care about the "delinquent second born" and he's free to do what he wants without judgment.

He'd go for a single stud on one side, a nose ring, a navel ring, and probably one lip piercing so that it glitters when he smirks.

He doesn't care if you have piercings. Obviously, it's sexy as hell if you do, but whatever, it's your life.

His favorite on you is, surprisingly, a basic earring. He likes to gently pull them with his teeth when he's feeling particularly flirty or needy.

He won't have piercings ever. It would affect his businessman facade. That said….if he ever got a piercing, he would want a single dangle earring so he can match the twins. Maybe a conch shell?

Another one who doesn't mind it on you. And his favorite one you? Tongue piercing. Not that he'll ever admit it…because it's his favorite due to him liking the feel against his tongue when your tongue is down his throat…the taste of iron filling his senses along with your signature smell….ahem. He uh he means he likes a typical earring on you. yup yup.

Pierced everywhere. He likes shiny things. There was no stopping him.

He would like you pierced top to bottom, so that he can shower you in even more gold and jewels. He loves to see you shimmer, and hear you jangle. Piercings just add to it. 

But if he had to choose a favorite spot, it's regular lobe and cartilage piercings on your ears. Then he can still see the shimmer 😁 he loves to decorate along your ears with chains and jewels, thinks it's so pretty

He has regular ear piercings. I'm sorry, a man who looks that hot in red heels is ready to wear a set of pearl drop earrings at a moments notice. He's modeled a hundred sexy looks in those hypothetical earrings, and you can't tell me otherwise. Maybe he takes them out for school so that when his fellow students decide to get in a fight, he doesn't have to hand them to Rook Everytime.

He wants you in pearl earrings to….just saying. He thinks you'll be so pretty, so professional, with a set of pearls; pearl choker, pearl bracelet, pearl earrings (does this feed into his desire to dress you like a doll? Maybe)

Out of everyone, he's the one who would get nipple piercings. Probably after watching some anime where the tough guy had gold nipple hoops. Subtle but enough of a character design that Idia snuck past Ortho to go get some himself.

He's gonna think any piercings you have are sexy. Nipple piercings? Bad ass. Navel? Show him that tummy. Lip piercing? Kiss him. I mean what?

Man wears black classy earrings. Doesn't really branch out, but that's fine. He looks hot.

He loves if you have piercings. It adds to his delusions about you, like "look at my rebellious little human". Mal Mal, it's just a nose ring? It's a common piercing in many cultures? Not a big deal? He's never gonna hear you over his delusions, babe

His fave on you? Navel and nipple. Because our Victorian man thinks seeing either is such a scandalous treat, and sends a thrill down his spine. Such intimate places, and he gets to see them! How thrilling! Humans are so brave these days!

[hatsukeii]

Today, I’m thinking about… haikyuu + other anime characters that would end up in this situation…

warning(s): none!! this is pure crack and you can interpret it as friendship or a relationship but just don’t do ANYTHING that happens in this fic because my friend almost shat himself afterwards…

“Dude, don’t fuck with me, I’ll literally fly your ass to Brazil and fight you if you win another round.”

You cackle at his empty threat, the ‘one card left’ message on your side souring his glare at every passing second that it stays on the shared screen. Scared to wake the rest of your household, you slap a hand over your mouth, the laughs threatening to burst from your chest. It’s been two hours of playing UNO online, and he hasn’t been able to win a single round since twelve. Frankly, it’s getting a little embarrassing for him, but you aren’t one to back down from a threat.

“Is that a challenge? Let’s fuckin’ go then, what are you waiting for? Put the next card down and see, bitch.”

He gasps through the screen, a hand flying to his chest as he searches for some sort of witty retort, or some form of instant retaliation. Instead, his mouse clicks through the call, frantically picking his +4 colour changer. He’s going to win this time, he’s certain of it. He’s going to watch you pick up four useless number cards, and throw his final card down before you even have the chance to come back-

“GET SHIT ON!”

You slam your final +4 onto the game, eight new cards slotting themselves into his deck as the gold medal and confetti of UNO victory explodes on screen. You pump your fists in his face, and he slams his hands onto his head, dumbfounded.

“Is that even allowed? What the fuck!”

“Uh, doesn’t matter? Because the system says I won! You’re dogshit!”

He turns in his chair, spinning round and round and round blankly as he drowns in his utter loss of dignity and ego. How can he possibly win against you, when all he gets are useless numbers to start with, and you somehow happen to score every single power card possible?

“What, you gonna fight me now? In Brazil?” You taunt, and his screen goes white as the google search engine pops up. His fingers hammer at his keyboard at an impossible speed, scouring the Internet for the quickest flight to Brazil. He’ll just scare you into thinking he was serious for a bit, just to see the panic that he has endured in the final moments of every single UNO round plastered on your face.

“There’s no way you’re actually doing this right now.”

He clicks onto the next flight to Rio, Brazil, highlighting the details as if forcing you to remember them for later. Drawing circles with his cursor furiously, he reaches down for his duffel bag, pretending to shove necessities into it. A singular t-shirt goes in, then his hoodie, all while the cursor sits dangerously close to the purchase button beneath his presaved credit card details, already filled out in each field.

"The next flight we can feasibly catch is 8am tomorrow. I'm coming over right now to pick your ass up, and we're gonna fucking fight in front of Christ the fucking Redeemer in Rio, me and you."

He reaches for his bottle, his arm stretching across the screen for the hunk of metal. As his fingers grab at it, he misses, and the entire bottle topples onto his mouse.

Click.

"Thank you for your purchase. Your flight number is: RJ3992. Please scan the code below at check-in."

The laughs that have been pushed under your throat all erupt at once as you hold your stomach and fall backwards, tears spilling from your eyes. He stares at the purchase confirmation, eyes peeled open and mouth ajar as $3000 worth of money vanishes into thin air. He did not intend to fight you in Brazil, but he might actually have to now. Should he call his bank? Call the airlines? His questions are answered as his phone rings beside him. From the other side of the call, you hear his murmurs as he comes clear to the banker on the line.

"No...not sure how it happened...just saw the confirmation...refund it now?"

You stifle your laughter, resisting the urge to punch your table in shock as he bargains with the banker to refund the ticket he just bought to Rio de Janeiro at two in the morning. Finally, he rips the phone away from his ear, letting out a sigh of relief. You cackle, pointing at him in a fit of hysteria, and he scowls at you, giving you the nastiest side eye he can conjure up. Not only has he lost every single round of UNO tonight, he's also come close to putting his credit in the negatives. It's time to call it quits.

"Still wanna fight me, huh? Another round?"

"Don't fucking try me, or I'll call them for the ticket back."

Characters: Tanaka Ryunosuke, Nishinoya Yuu, Kuroo Tetsurou, Lev Haiba, Kentaro Kyotani, Terushima Yuji, Bokuto Koutaro, Tendou Satori, Suguru Daisho, Miya Atsumu, Hoshiumi Kourai, Bakugou Katsuki, Neito Monoma, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Yo Shindo, Touya Todoroki, Aoi Todo, Gojo Satoru, Denji, Power + all your faves<3

author's note:

i can't make this shit up this actually happened to me once because the guy i was playing uno with kept losing and got upset and threatened to fight us all in brazil and then accidentally bought a 3000 dollar plane ticket to rio um???? bro had to call up the airline to cancel and then his bank had to call him at 3am to ask why he was suddenly withdrawing so much money i was about to piss myself laughing ngl

also IM FINISHED WITH FINALS!!! WOOOO!! CONFETTI!!!!

anyways tags!!

@starlysama @chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @bailey-reeds

ok love u guys see u soon bye bye

[blue-sadie]

I love your neteyam x goddess oneshot but can I please ask for God neteyam x offering reader where each month he gets offered a woman but he's never interested intill she's offered and there's smut involved 🙏

Offering To The Gods

God Neteyam x Offering Reader

Summary: neteyam god of predator and prey is not easily pleased by most but you all you have to do is beg

Warning: begging, tsireya is not the chiefs daughter in this, aged up characters Outfit

Yn/3rd person pov

It was always seen as a blessing to be chosen for an offering for the gods but it wasn't it's was sickening to you and to some of the other girls here.

Each offering they would dress up in the littlest amount of clothing and send her into the woods and wait to receive a sigh from which ever god took her.

The village has received many gifts from the gods all except one, neteyam god of animals predators and pray he was not an easy one to please.

Each one of the girls bragged that they would be the one to be picked by him but in some cases they weren't picked at all and lift for dead in the woods.

The village was bustling in preparation for tomorrow's offering most families showing off their daughters and their 'beauty'.

"Who do you think is tomorrow offering is" my friend tsireya murmured as she stuck to my side as we weaved through the crowd.

"I really don't care I think I'm gonna skip the festival anyway" I said glancing at her we made our way to our usual spot that we always sit in when they announce the poor unfortunate soul.

Our spot was on top of a small shed close to the podium so we can see the families reaction when they know that they'll never see their daughter again.

"Its kinda sad really" I paused taking a bit of my apple "they brag about their daughter but when their chosen they think it's the end of the world".

We both laughed and watched as all the villagers crowded around the podium wanting to be first in line "look there's fra'na" tsireya laughed.

She was the bitches of them all saying how she is gonna be the only one to be chosen by neteyam and how all of us would be left for dead.

"This months offering is" the announcer paused as she drew out a name and gasped as she saw the name, the people beside her peaked and their eyes widened.

"Its the chiefs daughter" I muttered taking another bite of my apple "t-this months offering is yn" my choked on my apple coughing historically.

"What" I choked out falling off the roof as people in the crowd looked shocked everyone knew of my opinions and didn't even know if I would go.

"My daughter excepts" my mom called out making me look at her like she was a mad woman "what" I yelled.

She then grabbed and dragged me back to our family's hut praising me and telling me what needs to be done.

She pushed me into the bathroom locking the door "make sure you wash everywhere and wash your hair nicely" she shouted through the door.

I sighed heavily and got into the steaming water in the bath groaning as the water relaxed my muscles.

I leaned my head back against the tub slowly closing my eyes but when I did flashes of neteyam ran through my mind but they weren't of his statutes or stories.

He was shirtless and breathing heavily his hands running all over his body his face covered in a light blush.

"Yn" he groaned I jerked out of the daze as he eyes met mine, my chest heaving I shook my head angrily I can't let this get to me.

I started scrubbing my skin and washing my hair, only getting out the water when it was about to turn cold.

I dried my skin and put my hair up into a bun before putting my clothes on "are you done in there sweetheart" my mom called "yes mom I'm done" I huffed.

She opened the door to expose her and 4 of her friends holding different bowls and other weird things "no" I muttered shaking my head.

But she ignored my protests and dragged me to a chair and her and her friends got right to work on 'pretting' me up.

One of her friend applied a face mask, another one did my hair brushing it intently and two of them painted symbols to my skin.

"This is what you are wearing" my mom smiled but my jaw immediately dropped "no ways in hell am I wearing that it's not even clothes" I shouted out.

She gave me a death glare "you are and that's final" she muttered.

"This is what most girls wear" one of her friends pointed out "hey do you remember eir'a she wasn't wearing anything" another laughed.

They continued to tell stories till sunset and hesitantly said giving me one last look before they left.

Mom smiled widely giving me the creeps "I still don’t see how they still allow this stupid tradition" I muttered walking up to my room and shutting the door with annoyance.

I flung myself onto the bed and stared up at my ceiling 'tomorrow is gonna be torture' my village was one of the small few that still participated in the tradition.

And didn't take any of it lightly, tomorrow I will be offered at dawn and I can't see anyone outside my immediate family not even tsireya.

But as I started to drift off to sleep I was thinking up a plan to escape.

-Next day-

I woke up early and started putting my plan into action, I put on the excuse of clothing and put my hair into a bun hiding a small carving knife inside.

"Once I get inside I'll carve a spear and pray like he'll i can make it out the other side" I explained to myself making sure that the knife is not visible.

"Ok my sweet time to go" she smiled and led me out the house to the edge of the village "please tell me your not planning anything" she asked as we neared her family.

"Nope nothing" I lied smiling and giving my family a small wave "aw you grow up so fast" my aunt cries giving both my cheeks a kiss.

My uncle pulled me into a hug "remember what I taught you" he whispered and that was it for the goodbyes.

"Remember me will you" mom murmured as she squished my cheeks together "sure I will mom" I gave her a half smile and turned to the forest.

I took a deep breath giving one final glance to my family before walking into the jungle, this part everyone said it's a game for the gods.

Kind of like whoever hunts her down first gets to keep her but the offering also has to survive the predators of the jungle.

As soon as I was beyond view I took the carving knife out and started making a spear to protect myself before I go further into the jungle.

I grasped the spear tightly and carefully started to move in no one has ever returned to the village people just know some die because of their screams.

"I can do this" I muttered and started sprinting I had to get to the other side before nightfall or at least find a spot for a camp.

The forest was quiet no other sounds other then the floor crunching under my feet as I ran I kept my breathing slow so I didn't run out of breathe so quickly.

Keeping my gaze ahead "look at her" I fell panicking as I looked around my surroundings where was that coming from.

"They always do that" the voice laughed, I just shook off the shock and took off running again "they never do that though".

The voices seemed to follow wherever I go and I try to not look back 'it's probably a trick' it was soon becoming dark and there was no place to make camp.

'A tree will have to do' I sighed coming to the nearest tree slipping the spear through the skirt gaps so i won't lose it making sure it was secure.

Started climbing up "look she's a monkey" "will you shut up" I shouted climbing higher and higher in till I was 30 meters up.

Shifting on the branch to find a comfy spot "make sure you don't fall" the voice called out from down below making me roll my eyes.

My kept shifting uncomfortably the jewels making it impossible to sleep "maybe I should continue running" I whispered and slowly made sure I didn't make a noise as I climbed down.

"I'm surprised you made it this far" I screamed jerking towards the voice my eyes widening at the sight of neteyam.

I tried to speak but all that I could get out where squeaks "your actually the only one that gets this far all the others just sit by the river and gaze at their completion" he chuckled.

"And your the only one to make a weapon" he gestured to the spear on my back I looked to the side do I really want this or make a run for it.

"There is no end to the jungle" he said stepping closer and with each step closer I took one back till I was pressed up against the tree.

"I'm not gonna hurt you yn" he whispered staring deeply to my eyes "h-how do you know my name" I stuttered out making him laugh and shake his head.

"I'll explain it all to you if you take my hand" he murmured putting out his hand for me to take, I bit my looking looking between him and his hand and hesitately took it closing my eyes.

I felt the wind blow around me and like a zap it disappeared "you can open your eyes now" he chuckled, I slowly opened my eyes which flattered to adjust to the light.

I gasped we weren't in the forest anymore but a gold palace filled with different animals "wow" I stood in aww watching as different parrots flew from the ceiling out the window.

"This is my home, now come we have much to discuss" he beamed and gently started to lead me through the palace.

"This is our bedroom" he smiled pushing open the double doors I paused as he walked inside making him let go of my hand which made him turn to me.

"Our bedroom" I asked he gestured for me to follow him but I just shook my head looking down at the floor.

"I know that you hate this tradition but I'm not gonna try anything I hardly sleep in this room anyways" he murmured taking ahold of my hand again.

"Now please let me explain this to you" he said and when I slowly nodded he took me inside the room it was like a jungle inside it looks like we were teleported back.

There was trees that had cabinets carved out and the bed was hanging from the ceiling over a small circlure pond.

"Here we go" he smiled leading me over to a small table and chairs "now can you please explain" I said sitting down and watching him as he sat opposite me.

"You believe in soulmates right" he questioned "to some extent yes" "well the reason for a god chosing an offering because she is his soulmate".

I did not believe that for one second, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms "yn the reason I said our room is because you've been here before" he muttered.

My throat felt dry after he said that "what" I choked "yn the only reasons god pick their offerings is because it's their soulmate reincarnated".

My mind started to fill with thoughts "every time your offered you always hide a carving knife and plan to escape the other side" he said getting up from his chair coming to stand infront of me.

"You always hate this tradition and your always friends with tsireya" he whispered kneeling infront of me "d-does that means she's a gods soulmate to" I ask.

He noded "my brothers" he gently grabbed both of my hands "no matter how many times you come back to me I always find a new way to love you".

My heart flattered at his words and my heart started to feel a longing for his "can we please take this slow and steady" I murmured He nodded eagerly "I'll wait an enternity".

-A month later-

I started to become more comfortable around him and slowly started to let him sleep in the bed with me he was patient every step of the way.

"Good morning my love" he rasped as he pecked my cheek as he cuddled into me further I was wide awake biting my lip.

I wanted him I don't know why I felt like this but I needed him "what's wrong" he asked and carefully turned me towards him my eyes glancing between his and his lips.

"I-I wanna kiss you" I admitted "I wanna- no I want you" I blurted out making him groan out but not in annoyance it sounded like pleasure.

He chuckled "then all you have to do is beg" he murmured making a deep blush settle on my cheeks "w-what" I stuttered he took my chin into his two fingers and brought my face closer to his.

"Beg" he muttered my eyes flattered "I u-um please can you take me" I whispered "louder I can't hear you" he teased "fuck please just I need you" I pleaded.

"Then you can take me baby" he growled and brought his hand to caress my cheek and pull me into a kiss.

His tongue ran over my bottom lip before making it way inside my mouth twisting around mine my moans were muffled by his lips as he slowly moved me on top of him.

"Wait wait" he pulled back and stared at me intently "are you ready" he asked "y-yes" I whispered nervously "I need you to be 100% yn no 59 70 I need you 100%" he muttered.

I smiled down at him he's so caring I brushed his cheek with my hand "I'm a 100% neteyam" I murmured and gasped as he switched our position so he was on top.

"I was hoping you said that" he growled before attaching his lips to my neck sucking harshly surely leaving a mark.

I whined as his hands tore off my clothes and his leaving us bare he pulled back his eyes slowly dragging down my body.

"You never disappoint" he growls out moving his lips to my breasts "f-fuck neteyam" I moaned I looked down past his head and gaped at his cock as it twitched and sparkled with precum.

"Please just fuck me neteyam" I begged his eyes snapped to mine as he pulled back "whatever my goddess needs" he grins and he positioned himself infront of my entrance.

Kissing me as he slowly pushed in, I groaned at the pain but he quietly shushed me and praised me making my heart flatter.

After I adjusted he slowly started to move and watched my reactions very carefully to make sure he didn't hurt me.

My moans of pain started to turn into one's of pleasure and his thrusts start to slowly increase in pace.

"Y-your so tight" neteyam growled out his cock filled every inch of me, he slowly let one of his hands slip down between us to rub my clit matching the pace of his thrusts.

"Fu-fuck" I cried out in pleasure as I felt myself close to cumming, neteyam growled as I clenched around him his cock starting to twitch inside me.

"I'm gonna fill you with my cum" he growled into my ear making my eyes roll, all the pleasure he was giving me was becoming overwhelming "c-cumming" I screamed out as I shuddered in pleasure.

"Yn" he groaned his thrusts started to fulter as he cam, we both panted and whined as we started coming down from our high.

"We are differently doing that again"

[jovial-thunder]

Pre-alpha Lancer Tactics changelog

(cross-posting the full gif changelog here because folks seemed to like it last time I did)

We're aiming for getting the first public alpha for backers by the end of this month! Carpenter and I scoped out mechanics that can wait until after the alpha (e.g. grappling, hiding) in favor of tying up the hundred loose threads that are needed for something that approaches a playable game. So this is mostly a big ol changelog of an update from doing that.

But I also gave a talent talk at a local Portland Indie Game Squad event about engine architecture! It'll sound familiar if you've been reading these updates; I laid out the basic idea for this talk almost a year ago, back in the June 2023 update.

We've also signed contracts & had a kickoff meeting with our writers to start on the campaigns. While I've enjoyed like a year of engine-work, it'll be so so nice to start getting to tell stories. Data structures don't mean anything beyond how they affect humans & other life.

New Content

Implemented flying as a status; unit counts as +3 spaces above the current ground level and ignores terrain and elevation extra movement costs. Added hover + takeoff/land animations.

Gave deployables the ability to have 3D meshes instead of 2D sprites; we'll probably use this mostly when the deployable in question is climbable.

Related, I fixed a bug where after terrain destruction, all units recheck the ground height under them so they'll move down if the ground is shot out from under them. When the Jerichos do that, they say "oh heck, the ground is taller! I better move up to stand on it!" — not realizing that the taller ground they're seeing came from themselves.

Fixed by locking some units' rendering to the ground level; this means no stacking climbable things, which is a call I'm comfortable making. We ain't making minecraft here (I whisper to myself, gazing at the bottom of my tea mug). 

Block sizes are currently 1x1x0.5 — half as tall as they are wide. Since that was a size I pulled out of nowhere for convenience, we did some art tests for different block heights and camera angles. TLDR that size works great and we're leaving it.

Added Cone AOE pattern, courtesy of an algorithm NMcCoy sent me that guarantees the correct number of tiles are picked at the correct distance from the origin.

pick your aim angle

for each distance step N of your cone, make a list ("ring") of all the cells at that distance from your origin

sort those cells by angular distance from your aim angle, and include the N closest cells in that ring in the cone's area

Here's a gif they made of it in Bitsy:

Units face where you're planning on moving/targeting them.

Got Walking Armory's Shock option working. Added subtle (too subtle, now that I look at it) electricity effect.

Other things we've added but I don't have gifs for or failed to upload. You'll have to trust me. :)

disengage action

overcharge action

Improved Armament core bonus

basic mine explosion fx

explosion fx on character dying

Increase map elevation cap to 10. It's nice but definitely is risky with increasing the voxel space, gonna have to keep an eye on performance.

Added Structured + Stress event and the associated popups. Also added meltdown status (and hidden countdown), but there's not animation for this yet so your guy just abruptly disappears and leaves huge crater.

UI Improvements

Rearranged the portrait maker. Auto-expand the color picker so you don't have to keep clicking into a submenu.

Added topdown camera mode by pressing R for handling getting mechs out of tight spaces.

The action tooltips have been bothering me for a while; they extend up and cover prime play-area real estate in the center of the screen. So I redesigned them to be shorter and have a max height by putting long descriptions in a scrollable box. This sounds simple, but the redesign, pulling in all the correct data for the tags, and wiring up the tooltips took like seven hours. Game dev is hard, yo.

Put the unit inspect popups in lockable tooltips + added a bunch of tooltips to them.

Implemented the rest of Carpenter's cool hex-y action and end turn readout. I'm a big fan of whenever we can make the game look more like a game and less like a website (though he balances out my impulse for that for the sake of legibility).

Added a JANKY talent/frame picker. I swear we have designs for a better one, but sometimes you gotta just get it working. Also seen briefly here are basic level up/down and HASE buttons.

Other no-picture things:

Negated the map-scaling effect that happens when the window resizes to prevent bad pixel scaling of mechs at different resolutions; making the window bigger now just lets you see more play area instead of making things bigger.

WIP Objectives Bullets panel to give the current sitrep info

Wired up a buncha tooltips throughout the character sheet.

Under the Hood

Serialization: can save/load games! This is the payoff for sticking with that engine architecture I've been going on about. I had to add a serialization function to everything in the center layer which took a while, but it was fairly straightforward work with few curveballs.

Finished replacement of the kit/unit/reinforcement group/sitrep pickers with a new standardized system that can pull from stock data and user-saved data.

Updated to Godot 4.2.2; the game (and editor) has been crashing on exit for a LONG time and for the life of me I couldn't track down why, but this minor update in Godot completely fixed the bug. I still have no idea what was happening, but it's so cool to be working in an engine that's this active bugfixing-wise! 

Other Bugfixes

Pulled straight from the internal changelog, no edits for public parseability:

calculate cover for fliers correctly

no overwatch when outside of vertical threat

fixed skirmisher triggering for each attack in an AOE

fixed jumpjets boost-available detection

fixed mines not triggering when you step right on top of them // at a different elevation but still adjacent

weapon mods not a valid target for destruction

made camera pan less jumpy and adjust to the terrain height

better Buff name/desc localization

Fixed compcon planner letting you both boost and attack with one quick action.

Fix displayed movement points not updating

Prevent wrecks from going prone

fix berserkers not moving if they were exactly one tile away

hex mine uses deployer's save target instead of 0

restrict weapon mod selection if you don't have the SP to pay

fix deployable previews not going away

fix impaired not showing up in the unit inspector (its status code is 0 so there was a check that was like "looks like there's no status here")

fix skirmisher letting you move to a tile that should cost two movement if it's only one space away

fix hit percent calculation

fix rangefinder grid shader corner issues (this was like a full day to rewrite the shader to be better)

Teleporting costs the max(spaces traveled, elevation change) instead of always 1

So um, yeah, that's my talk, any questions? (I had a professor once tell us to never end a talk like this, so now of course it's the phrase that first comes to mind whenever I end a talk)