#luca old ladies

[iiclarkrau]

shenanigans in the detective agency

[discobiscotto]

Just Guys Bein’ Dudes: A Needlessly Huge TED-Talk About Luca & Alberto’s Relationship

Ready for some big-brain BS?

Well, ready or not, here’s a “little” dive into how I interpret/perceive Luca and Alberto’s relationship.

Note: I’m referring to them as my own headcanon versions of them as men. It can certainly be applied to them as young adults and teens for sure, but I’m diving into ‘Ciao Luca’ territory specifically. So, there, just being clear on the who’s who.

What’s their deal anyhow?

Are they romantic partners? Are they attracted to eachother, yanno 👉🏻👈🏻? Buddies? Buddies with benefits? Are they even a couple? Are they husbands? What’s their deal?

So, a couple years ago when I was starting to get really busy with the headcanons, I went on a tear about their relationship to lay down some kind of clear foundation for it. I felt alittle conflicted at the time about how their relationship was going to feel/act like.

To me, because I love ambiguity, I wanted to keep that energy going from the original source material…but with alittle “oomph”…considering there’s been time and maturity tacked on. They can’t just be Pallin’ Around forever, something’s gotta give with chemistry that strong imo.

If I’m being honest, them being point-blank romantic partners felt too cliched and predictable/boring. Courtship, wooing, marriage…snore. It just didn’t feel like ‘them’ to me. It bordered heteronormative somehow. I was just …PUTTING MYSELF TO SLEEP.

Not to say they aren’t romantic, because they certainly are in their own right! It just isn’t the defining Vibe of their relationship.

As a queer lady with a pretty open mind in terms of what defines a relationship and/or bond, I believe that love expression is on a spectrum. Different strokes for different folks, yanno?

I scooted myself over to that old filing cabinet in my brain with random Greek Philosophy tid-bits (that I was impressed wasn’t put thru the incinerator) and I got polishing.

I remembered a few terms, like storge (family love), Eros: romantic, mania: obsessive/stalkerish love, agape, philia, the list goes on.

We’re gonna focus on PHILIA, typically deemed affectionate and/or “brotherly love”, I think also falls under platonic love.

We’re going to come back to this later☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

As a couple of seamonsters (first and foremost) the human concept of love may not necessarily compute to them. Not that they get confused or turn their nose up at it, but rather it’s more boxed-in and rigid than, I guess, fish love? Haha.

Example: homosexuality, bisexuality, and heterosexuality as concepts are human inventions to help humans navigate their life and their identity in the world, be part of a tribe, and potentially find mates.

They’re social constructs, like gender conformity, and Mondays.

Seamonsters really don’t have that. They’re similar to humans in alot of ways, but in terms of attraction, love, and social awareness, they just kindof ride the wave and go where the current takes them.

Opposite sex pairings likely happen more often because [gestures] instincts and Makin’ Fries. But just like humans, same sex relationships happen just as much!…but seamonsters have no concept of homophobia (strictly a human invention) so there’s no discouragement or imposed fear of the relationship…it just happens if it’s meant to and the world keeps spinning. [deep sighs]

Luca and Alberto are aware of human society and customs (especially now that they’ve been living amongst them for atleast 15 years). So, they still try to do-as-the-humans-do sometimes. They know that they feel a strong bond to eachother that can’t be ignored, and when humans sense a similar bond between each other they express it by being physically intimate, or giving gifts, or creating things for eachother, etc.

So, basically, it boils down to “I love my friend, so I wish to express that love for him like that [gesture].”

Now bringing it back to Philia up there!👆🏻

That particular source defines philia as brotherly love, both must be men (in the Greek system), they respect and take pleasure in eachother’s company, bond through exploring philosophical truths, and sexual intimacy or attraction is optional.

This other source takes it a bit further saying that we could be diving into “friends to lovers” territory which is the aforementioned “oomph” I was referring to. The bridge into Eros stuff without being completely rooted there (ie your usual romantic pair).

Their relationship isn’t based on physical attraction, but began as a close friendship that progressed into something more. Not built on lust, but on mutual affection and respect for eachother.

They are an “unlikely” pair. Where a hockey hug became alittle tighter, and the joined hands in a good old “Piacere Girolamo Trombetta” started to linger.

They feel safe with eachother, they love and prefer eachother’s company, they share eachother’s worlds and feel deeply connected in them. Alberto cooks meals for them because he loves Luca, and Luca gives Alberto [SPOILER] because he loves him back.

They share a “I can’t quite put my finger on it but I feel safe, warm, and happy with you, I enjoy your company and what we have, I love the feeling of you being close to me, exchanging warmth and heartbeats, and I feel like this is more than going out on dates or ‘picking out curtains’.” kind of thing.

They’re roommates who kiss and “play house”. They are in love…but express it in their own unique way. They are openly affectionate. They keep people guessing, they confuse the neighbors, they have an “inside joke”.

Alberto lays on the housewife schtick: straightening Luca’s tie and sending him on his way with a packed lunch.

They call eachother heteronormative terms of endearment, mostly to be cheeky. Sarcastic “Honey” or “Dear” followed by someone affectionately ending up in a headlock.

They love to play with the human version of “married life”, little do they realize they’ve grown genuinely accustomed to it.

They’re queer but have no name and nowhere they’d rather be except each other’s arms (that one place that makes perfect sense).

They aren’t married…they never can get married…but that doesn’t stop them from sharing their homes, their beds, and a last name written on their Christmas cards.

In conclusion, humans say they’re gay.

The Paguro’s say “They built a farm together.”

SOURCES:

[ladynostalgic125]

Every time I remember that Ahsoka and Anakin weren't able to catch up because she was too focused in helping Mandalore and then he was so sure that they would end the war soon by her stopping Maul (because he trusted so much in his former apprentice) and him stopping Grievous and saving Palpatine, that they would see each other again, being fine and with hope… I'm just all tears EVERY FRICKING TIME

[pierrotwrites-hc]

You got any secrets you wanna spill?? Any lil tidbits about some of your stories that has not yet been revealed?? Some wacky lil facts you’ve been holding onto??

spoilers in tags 🙃

[weidli]

vielleicht is such an upsetting episode because felix is so obviously doing absolutely terribly but till isn't there to do anything about it :/

[ellenchain]

Hitman holiday ask: I think that 47 would enjoy a bit luxury, he has expensive tastes. 5 star hotel, presidential suite, the like. Lucas likes it for a bit before the excess annoys him. He could stand it if they had a really private time, like their own sauna or pool in the suite. I think he could be more the rugged mountaineer type, goes hiking, stays in huts....I could conceivably see him going camping and having a great time. That way he doesn't have to plan too much, he can just on a whim decide to go driving to someplace (or maybe even bike? Would Lucas like cross country bike tours?) do what he likes and find a camping spot in the evening. 47....would only go camping under duress. Or if he was promised a really posh hotel stay afterwards. Just imagine Lucas in hiking gear, a bit rugged, content to trek through the wilderness for a month. And 47 in designer gear already googling the location of the nearest spa and maybe a private helicopter to take him there

omg yes Lucas, the hiker and cyclist, totally deterministic with his far too tight cycling shorts, waits impatiently for Olivia, who starts to sweat after only two kilometres and just wants to go back to her computer, Diana on her cute Dutch bike, takes her time and enjoys the landscape (and couldn't care less about speed) and 47, who would still have enough stamina, has already the mobile phone to the next hotel in his hand.

NOBODY except Lucas wanted to go on the bike tour, but everyone knows how much he enjoys riding in nature, so no one says anything and just comes along.

Same with hiking, I imagine Lucas really nicely in those trekking shoes that people like to wear here in Germany, absolute beauties they are. 47 probably wouldn't even touch those shoes in the shoe shop, like ew no, they're terrible

In case you didn't know Liam, that's how I imagine Lucas to be btw (sorry):

[torpublishinggroup]

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[bitalis]

finishing coffee talk ch2 like i loved that old characters came back even though some appeared very briefly and riona <3

[harunayuuka2060]

Kalim: Headmage, aside from Malleus and Leona, is there any other royalty studying at Night Raven College?

Crowley: ...Why do you ask, Mr. Al Asim?

Kalim: My dad asked me to give a gift to a royal, but I’m unsure who he’s talking about. He mentioned it’s not Malleus or Leona.

Crowley: *clears throat* I should check...

Kalim: 'Check'? You mean there is?

Crowley: I’ll update you later, Mr. Al Asim. For now, please return to your classroom.

Kalim: Okay!

MC: *chuckles* Ah, yes. The House of Al Asim.

MC: I thought they would never get in touch with me.

Crowley: I see. Should I inform Kalim that you are the royal he’s looking for?

MC: No, I have no dealings with him.

MC: However, do inform him that I would like to receive a response from the Viper Family.

Crowley: Viper...? Your Maj- Sorry. If you don’t mind me asking, what is your connection to the Viper family?

MC: *smiles* I am considering their daughter, Najma Viper, as a suitable match for the prince.

Crowley: ...

Crowley: Pardon?

MC: Hmm? Is something amiss? You appear rather pale.

Crowley: N-No, Your Majesty! *immediately smiles* I happened to remember that there's something I need to do.

MC: Oh, really? I thought you were trying to flee after potentially offending me.

Crowley: No, Your Majesty! I've been quite busy lately!

MC: *chuckles* I’m merely jesting. You may take your leave now.

Crowley: Th-Thank you, Your Majesty.

Jamil: *received a phone call from home; it was Najma to be exact*

Jamil: What is it? Tell me quick. I still have a basketball practice to attend to.

Najma: I think... I think I'm getting married!

Jamil: What are you talking about?

Najma: Father and Mother are panicking right now!

Jamil: Najma, calm down. You're not getting married.

Jamil: You don't even have suitors.

Najma: Hey!

Jamil: I'm guessing it's a prank. Don't think about it too much.

Najma: Hmph! *hangs up*

Jamil: *frowns* What's wrong with her?

*In the Kingdom of Arendelle*

Evan: *MC's 15-year-old brother; prince regent of the Kingdom of Arendelle*

Evan: *blushing after he found out that MC sent a marriage request to Najma on his behalf*

Lucas: ...

Lucas: Not to make the situation worse, but Their Majesty also sent your photo.

Evan: !!!

Evan: MC would not do that!

Lucas: Nah. I know your older sibling more than you.

Lucas: So, are you going to officially court Lady Viper?

Evan: ...

Evan: I'm not sure... I'm a stranger to her.

Lucas: Well, you can be friends first.

Evan: A marriage request was sent.

Lucas: So? You should be fine.

Evan: ...

Evan: You're so indifferent to me, Sir Lucas.

Lucas: No. I'm just stressed and worried for Their Majesty.

Lucas: And pissed off, but I would probably get punished for saying that.

Evan: ...

Evan: You are aware that the rules in the kingdom doesn't state as such.

Lucas: Yeah, I know.

[artificial-transmutations]

The Last Chance!

My head was throbbing, and lights danced in front of me. Distorted music was blaring and for a moment, I felt like throwing up. When my sight cleared a bit, I could see a slim metal lectern in front of me and grabbed it to stabilize myself. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, the nausea subsided enough to look around. I was not alone, far from it. I was bathed in bright lights from above and from the sides, and I had to squint to be able to discern my surroundings. There were three more lecterns, arranged in a half circle, and behind that, three more people who didn't look any better than I felt.

In the middle of the circle, there was a big leather chair that was currently empty. Still, most of the lights - artificial lights, headlights - were directed at the empty chair. To all sides, behind the big island of brightness, I could see grandstands with people in the dark, producing a constant loud chattering noise. The room was huge, but had, apparently, no windows.

Even though I've never been in one, it looked a lot like a TV studio to me. The setup looked like a game show of sorts, which means the empty chair was for the host, and I was at one of the contestant's spots.

Which brought me back to the most pressing question: How the hell did I get here?

Let's see, what do I remember... I am Evan, kindergarten teacher, 32 years old, and...

Right. I wasn't very well right now. My boyfriend broke up with me, it was pretty ugly, and then, I went to a bar. I was pretty drunk, but I think I remember leaving the bar again, in the middle of the night and then...

No, total blackout. Nothing that could explain how I got into a TV studio.

I looked at the other contestants, who seemed to be in various states of confusion as well. At the front of the lecterns, I could read their names:

Right next to me, there was Victoria. She looked like a librarian, or a secretary of some sorts. Pretty unremarkable. She seemed perhaps the least uncomfortable and eyed the rest of us with sharp intelligent eyes, nodding slightly as she caught my gaze.

Then, there was Lucas. He looked like he worked as a security guard, or maybe a bouncer, but not one for an exclusive club. His face was broad and his jaw strong and adorned with a goatee, and he wore a tight t-shirt and loose cargo pants. His posture was intimidating, but his eyes were friendly, if perhaps a bit simple.

At the far end, behind the lectern was Blake. He looked a bit like a teacher or a scientist, to be honest. He was slim and tall, had a brown pony tail and wore pretty unfashionable clothes.

For the sake of completion, my own name read "Evan", as expected. I was a pretty normal guy, wearing jeans and t-shirt. I was quite average looking, neither very good nor very bad, and had a bit of a tummy. In short, a very typical guy.

When I looked up again, there was suddenly a man sitting in the chair, wearing a fancy suit, looking into the cameras with a wide smile. I was sure I had not seen him entering, which seemed strange.

Immediately, the chattering from the audience ceased, and the man, who must have been the host, began to speak. So much for trying to escape the situation before the show started.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, and all creatures! Welcome to this wonderful, bombastic, extraordinary episode of 'The last chance'! I'm your host, the magnificent Mr. Mephistolon."

There was a moment of applause and cheering from the dark grandstands, before the man continued. What an odd introduction! Being inclusive is good and all, but 'all creatures'?

"And today, we have our best contestants ever. Give me a cheer for Blake, Lucas, Victoria and Evan!"

Again, there was some applause, which was nice, but I was still confused. What kind of game show was this?

"The rules are simple! Here at 'The last chance', everything is possible. In three exciting elimination rounds, our contestants will fight for the grand mystery prize. You, the audience will vote after each round who you like the least, and the one with the most votes has to leave, never to be seen again."

I decided I didn't like the humor of the host very much, but the explanation continued.

"Whoever survives the third round is the winner of tonight's show! They will receive the grand mystery prize"

He held up a sealed red envelope.

"And, of course, gets to go home."

It would probably have been funnier if I remembered how I got here. The charming host made it sound like we were kidnapped, but that was hardly possible, not on live TV. So, it was probably just a joke.

"But! How can you sway the audience to not vote you out, you ask? What is the game, you want to know? It's easy! In each round, each and every one of you gets a spin on our wheel of fortune. In addition, you will be dealt three cards. In every round, you must use whatever the wheel shows and one of your cards to *change* yourself and one other contestant of your choice. It doesn't matter who you choose for what, as long as one change applies to yourself and one to another one. And remember: All changes are always permanent!"

The host chuckled as if his last statement was especially funny. I didn't quite understand what 'changes' he meant, but the rest was pretty clear.

As soon as the host finished explaining, a gorgeous woman with a long flowing dress and a big deck of cards approached us. Her eyes sparkled, and her skin was smooth, and the long dress made it look like she had a tail under it. She gave every one of us contestants three cards. Mine read "Masculine", with a big blue mars symbol on it, "Submissive", depicting a figure looking down at their feet, and "Chubby", a pink pudgy figure.

After we had a moment to look at our cards, the host spoke up again.

"And without further ado, let's get started! This round begins with..."

The drum rolls in the background sounded very stereotypical.

"Victoria! Ladies first!"

With a fanfare, a big wheel of fortune was unveiled, and set into motion with one swift motion from Mr. Mephistolon. I couldn't make out what the labels on the wheel said until it slowed down and landed on the symbol of a large eggplant. It read "hung".

It had to be one of these late-night game shows with a sexual edge to it. I didn't feel very comfortable.

"Alright, Victoria! The wheel shows 'hung'. You need to choose one of your cards, and then apply both changes, one to you, and one to another contestant!"

The woman studied her cards carefully before choosing one. She held it up and smiled.

"Okay. I pick this card here for myself. It says: 'Big-Chested'. And I'll apply 'hung' to..."

She looked around her three male contestants before finally settling on me. "Evan!"

"Alright, a good choice, Victoria! Remember, the changes will apply after everyone has chosen. Let's continue with Lucas!"

The wheel spun and landed on the picture of a pink, hairless arm, which said "Smooth".

Lucas had looked into his cards up until here and scratched his head.

"Okay, so we're supposed to be nice to each other, right? Okay, so, I... Can I give both to the other guys?"

"I'm sorry Lucas, but the rules are that you have to change yourself as well!" The host smiled with endless professional patience.

"Oh, okay." The guy really wasn't all too bright.

"Then... I take 'smooth' for myself and give Victoria my 'Slim'. That works, right?"

"Yes, Lucas, that's possible! Great job!" The host cheered before looking at Blake and spinning the wheel. It finally settled on "Nerdy", adorned with a pair of glasses.

Blake's eyes darted between his cards and the rest of us. Finally, he decided.

"Okay, I don't think we're supposed to be nice to each other, here. At least, I only have rather negative cards. Since I have to play one on myself, I choose 'Dominant'". He held up a card showing a figure with held up high head and a broad stance.

"And the 'nerdy' from the wheel goes to... Lucas."

The audience murmured and the host nodded approvingly.

"It seems like you have understood pretty quickly! Alright! Let's get to our last one for this round. Evan!"

He set the wheel in motion, and I watched until it stopped at the picture of a broad chest, reading 'muscular'. I looked down on my cards. So, even if I didn't understand the whole 'change' part, it was obvious I should give positive things to myself and negative things to other people. The wheel showed 'muscular', which was obviously positive, and 'masculine' in my hand was positive as well. So, I needed to choose between 'submissive' and 'chubby'. The thought of the big bouncer having the 'submissive' card was pretty hilarious, so I decided on that.

"I'll take 'muscular' for myself and give my 'submissive' to Lucas." I announce.

"Great choices, all around. Alright. So, we get to the changes! Victoria, you got 'Big-Chested' from yourself, and 'slim' from Lucas. Let's see how you look like!"

Whatever I expected, it was not that. Before my very eyes, Victoria's modest breasts swelled until her blouse was bursting. Her body lost any excess fat, and her hips became narrower as well, forming a perfect hourglass shape. If I had been straight, I would have surely started to drool.

"Very nice! Now, let's see the guys. Lucas! You have your own 'smooth', and Blake's 'nerdy' as well as Evan's 'submissive'. Quite a lot, if you ask me!"

As expected, Lucas lost all body hair, except his head and face. Then, his eyebrows thinned out and his nose grew a bit more pronounced. I thought I heard the word 'sissy' being called from the audience. A thick pair of glasses snapped into existence, and his clothing shifted to an awkward, nerdy look. And something seemed to happen behind his eyes. Where before, he looked the host in the eye, he suddenly looked at his shoes.

"I'm sorry, master." He muttered.

"What was that, Lucas?" The host asked, smiling.

"I'm sorry, Master. I don't deserve to look into your eyes." Laughter from the audience.

Lucas was still pretty broad, but his new posture and clothing veiled that pretty well. He looked pathetic all in all.

"Alright, Lucas. Let's switch to Blake. Here, we have your own 'Dominant' and... That’s it! Your antagonists decided to go easy on you, as it seems."

The shift in Blake's demeanor was subtle. His body stayed the same, but his posture changed, as he spread his legs a bit wider and raised his shoulders. His facial expression shifted, and I was sure to see traces of cruelty or arrogance in it, now.

"Aaand, finally. Evan. 'Muscular' from yourself and 'hung' from Victoria. Seems like the other contestants like you, Evan!"

Victoria, the new, busty, Victoria leaned over and smiled as she whispered: "You're welcome."

Suddenly, my body felt tingly and weird all over. I watched in a mix of amazement and horror, as my muscles grew all over the place, quickly filling out my clothes that shifted subtly to make way for the new bulges.

The crowd cheered, and I looked at them for a moment. Then, I was distracted by a feeling in my groin. It took all my self-control not to check with my hands, but I could clearly see the bulge of my cock grow in my pants. I wasn't getting hard - although the feeling was pretty erotic - but my dick was just quickly gaining size, until the bulge was clearly visible through my pants now. I could even see the soft rod hanging down one leg and make out the shape of my balls. With my head red, I stepped closer to the lectern.

"That's all changes for round 1!" The host announced. "And it's time to say goodbye to one of our contestants now. Please, cast your vote."

While the audience voted, I looked around. Busty Victoria was probably pretty safe, as was I - I didn't have a mirror, but I must have looked pretty good. If the audience voted by looks - which I suspected - then it would either hit Blake or Lucas. Since Blake had changed the least, he was probably the most boring one, so I suspected he would be voted out.

It was Lucas, by a small margin.

"Well, then, Lucas! Here goes your 'Last Chance'!" The host smiled, a smile I would describe as cruel, and all of a sudden, a flame shot up where Lucas had been standing just a few moments ago. When the flame was gone, so was Lucas. Wow. That was either a pretty cool special effect or... No, it was a special effect.

As the host turned to Victoria again, I got the feeling this game show was more serious than I thought.

The wheel stopped at the word 'needy'. Victoria looked into her cards and whispered to me: "Let's work together this round."

Since the spot next to her was empty, I was the only one she could whisper to, even though I must have been the bigger threat in her eyes. Her plan was to concentrate on Blake this round and then eliminate me in the next.

"I give 'Needy' to Blake, and I'll take..." She flashed a smile to the audience. "'Big Behind'" The card showed the rather unsubtle outline of a large ass. Victoria was *dangerous*. She had adapted lightning fast and knew how to manipulate the audience.

Blake looked at her with contempt, possibly due to his new dominant demeanor, until the wheel stopped in front of him. It showed a naked male chest, heavily adorned with tattoos.

"Oookay. I take 'Tattooed' from the wheel for myself, and I play this card on Evan."

My heart sunk as he produced a card showing a naked figure that read 'Exhibitionistic'. Crap. The smile in Blake's face was cold. He, too, was dangerous. And from his announcement in the first round, I knew he had more negative cards in his hand.

"So, Evan, take your pick."

I hadn't even realized that the wheel had already stopped, and I looked at it quickly. It showed a pelt of hair on a breast and read 'hairy'. I quickly looked down on my cards. I had 'masculine' and 'chubby'. It was probably a good idea to keep chubby for the last round, so I had to play 'masculine'. The apparent solution was to play it on myself and give 'hairy' to Blake, if I wanted to do what Victoria suggested. However, hairy probably wouldn't hurt Blake much, and neither would 'masculine'. I could sacrifice my 'chubby', but then I'd probably lose the next round for sure. I pondered. No, Victoria was more dangerous. I could play 'hairy' on her... But wait! She was slim and busty, and she was about to give herself a big ass. Combined with hairy, that would be strange, but what if I took out her feminine advantage?

"I take 'hairy' for myself." I began. It didn't make much difference if I was hairy or not. "And I play 'masculine' on Victoria."

The audience went crazy as Victoria's transformation began. Her ass ballooned out, making her even more beautiful by heterosexual standards for a second. But that changed when her body shifted and crossed the gender boundary quickly. A bulge formed both in her throat and in her groin, and her clothes shifted to a masculine style. However, just as I had planned, she still had the other traits. Her - no, his - chest formed decidedly male but rather big man-tits, and his ass was fat. The rest of him, however, including the arms and legs, were thin and slim, looking decidedly grotesque on his male frame.

"I guess we should call you 'Victor' now" smiled the host before the attention shifted towards Blake.

"Let's see how Blake looks after his new changes: 'Tattooed' and 'Needy'".

Blake's skin quickly filled with ink, giving the man an even more dangerous aura. For a moment, I was afraid that Blake would get a stronger position due to his changes, but then, a loud moan came out of his mouth.

"Please! I need someone to..." he was confused as hell, I could see that, as his dominant and his needy side came to a weird compromise.

"... to order to fuck my hole. Please!"

The audience erupted in laughter, and even the host had to smile. It was pitiful.

"And now for Evan."

Crap, what were my changes again? I had completely forgotten that I was being changed as well.

"Let's give you... 'hairy' and 'exhibitionistic'!"

Fuck, and it was all negative. I looked down on my muscular body and I could see body hair growing in, all over my exposed arms and legs, even some in my face. However, the worst was yet to come.

My mind was filled with an overwhelming need. I *had* to show off my body. I *had* to put it on display for everyone to see. Accompanied by the laughter of the audience, I pulled off my shirt and exposed my furry, muscular chest for everyone to see. It felt good, but I wasn't finished. Next, the shoes, socks and pants came off. My underwear was filled to the brim with my large cock, and a thick bush of hair erupted from it as well. And my underwear got even tighter as I felt the rush of satisfaction it gave me to expose myself like that. I could stop now, I probably had enough self-control. However, I hesitated. It was all about the audience vote, right? Perhaps I had better chances if I played the role, to the end. So, I hooked both my thumbs into my strained boxer shorts and, with a quick motion, pulled them off, freeing the absolute python of my semi-hard cock. I even took a few steps back from my lectern, so everyone could see me in all of my hairy, muscular glory.

The audience went wild. With some satisfaction, I noticed that almost no one voted me out. Instead, most of the votes fell on Blake.

"So long, Blake!" said the host, and Blake, too, disappeared in a sudden flame.

"Seems like it's just Victor and Evan left. Let's see who survives this round and takes the grand mystery prize home! Let me spin the wheel for Victor!"

The wheel slowed down on the sweaty face emoticon. However, it didn't read 'sweaty', but instead 'horny'. Victor smiled and shot me an apologetic look.

"Sorry, big guy, but that's it for you. Let's see how needy you get. I choose 'horny' for Evan and for me... 'Charming'". The new man produced his last card, which showed a handsome prince. Crap. That was a good combination.

I looked down at my 'chubby' card, and only as the wheel stopped, I realized my mistake. I had kept the strongest negative card until the end, but I didn't anticipate that the wheel might *also* show something negative. I stared at the head-scratching figure on the wheel and the word below that. 'Dumb'. Shit.

What were my options? I could give myself chubby and Victor dumb. Perhaps, hopefully, chubby wouldn't look too bad on my muscled body, but it hardly mattered if Victor was dumb or not. Charme worked regardless of intelligence.

Then again, I could give Victor 'chubby', which would probably work well in making him even less attractive and grotesque. But that would mean I'd have to take 'dumb'. And all changes were permanent, the host had said so.

I thought back to the flame effect that had consumed Blake and Lucas. No, I had to win this, no matter the cost.

I forced a smile for the audience. "Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I'm big all over already, and hairy and naked. So, I'll gladly take the 'dumb' - make me a real himbo!"

I didn't want to be 'a real himbo', for sure, but it might still be better than the alternative. And it would fit into the 'horny' I was about to get.

"And Victor gets my last card: 'Chubby'!"

His eyes went wide, as he suddenly wasn't so sure of his victory anymore. And really, he immediately began to change. His thin body got softer and rounder, especially his stomach and butt. Even his man-tits grew even larger. However, at the same time, his face grew a well-groomed beard, and his eyes got a sparkle to it. Even though his form was bloated, he still looked nice enough. Fuck.

Then, all eyes went to me. I closed my eyes as Mr. Mephistolon announced my changes. 'Dumb' and 'Horny'. No bodily changes, thankfully. My body was still glorious and on full display. The first effect I felt was in my groin again. I grew hot and flustered, and my previously semi-hard cock quickly expanded into its full length, hard and throbbing, pointing directly ahead. That wasn't bad, I had to admit. As I was leaking precum on the floor, I enjoyed the attention of my body on display like that, and there was certainly a lot to see. But the next change hit my mind. My thoughts felt sluggish and slow. It was as if the gears in my head were covered in syrup or mud. Or that other thing, what was it... Cum, right. I had to grin dumbly. Yeah, my thoughts were slow as if they went through cum. That thought amused me and distracted me for longer than I would have been comfortable to admit before. But now, I just didn't care. When I opened my eyes again, all higher intellect was gone, and I was just happy for all the attention and was feeling horny. Well, I was always feeling horny, right? Automatically, my large right hand gripped my fuckstick and I started to slowly stroke it, while smearing precum into the pelt on my chest with the left one. The audience cheered.

"Alright, here are the final votes!", the host announced, ripping my attention momentarily from my own body.

"It seems like, with a *very* narrow margin, Victor has lost this round."

I looked at him quizzically. Was that good?

"That means Evan wins tonight's show!"

The audience went wild and clapped, and I felt happy. Apparently, I had done something right!

"Congratulations, Evan! Now, let's see what tonight's grand mystery prize is."

With a big gesture, the host opened the envelope and read out the contents.

"The winner - that's you, Evan - gets to transform the host freely, to his liking. Now that's something we haven't seen in this show for a long time!"

Even though that meant I was allowed to change him to my whim, Mr. Mephistolon didn't seem unhappy. Instead, he licked his lips.

"Go on then, Evan! What do you want to change about me?"

"Uhhh..."

I thought hard about it.

"Make you... Make you big. Big and... strong. But not as strong as me. More like lean, but sturdy. I still want to be the one to fuck you. And... uh, make you... Make you have big dick and big balls."

I was a bit confused about the last two points. My mind had trouble thinking, but I also had a big dick and big balls, and those were good, right? So, I wanted them for him, too.

"Alright, let's see what Evan gets."

I watched curiously as Mr. Mephistolon slowly began to change.

He gained muscles, but nothing like I had. He stayed rather thin, but his arms, chest and abs looked very nice. His feet grew, and lean muscle set in, making him able to withstand a lot of force when I would pound his hole, later. I could hardly wait and was stroking my cock again.

As expected, his cock and balls swelled, and grew hairy. He was not as hung as me, but that was probably good. After all, he wouldn't really need his cock, his ass was the important part.

After his transformation was finished, I saw him look at his new body and his cock, and then into the crowd, before his eyes landed on me.

"Well then, that's all for tonight, folks! I guess I'm going home with Evan now!"

And with the last round of applause, our surroundings shifted until I was in my apartment again. Still the same bull of a man, with my target right in front of me. I licked my lips as I approached the host. I would fuck him silly, that's for sure.

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

God I love Dustin Henderson so much man, I know Will is in love with Mike because only a deeply down bad homosexual would be able to say Mike “is the heart” when Dustin is alive and in the party. Dustin is the one constantly mediating in S1 between Mike and Lucas, he’s even insecure of his own newness to the group when he conciliates. Because even though the party are all HIS best friends he is able to rationalize why they might have a hierarchy based on seniority. Mike makes it clear that isn’t the case. It’s partly why Dustin is quicker to accept Eleven and partly why he’s so open to including Max “as the new kid” because that was him once. Dustin’s iconic “she’s our friend and she’s crazy!” Dustin and Lucas having parallel deviations from their code of honor in ST2 and Dustin being (so dramatic ik) literally ready to fall on the sword for his misdoings. Dustin basically involving Steve out of necessity but then cultivating that relationship to make Steve a good friend, Steve who had the shittiest friends in high school and attention for all the wrong reasons. Steve never had a true friend in his life and then some 12 year old basically gave him a crash course. In ST3 when Dustin earnestly challenges Steve’s socially conditioned need to be seen as cool only for Steve to become bffs with a band geek. A band geek who is also a lesbian that Steve would rather be seen as a rizzless hack of a womanizer than out her to anybody, even Dustin. All of Dustin and Steve. Dustin going from calling Steve a douchebag, to Eddie saying the kid worships him and thinks he’s a total badass. Dustin who in ST4 is once again demolishing social norms of high school vs middle school because FUCK, his friend is in middle school! His friend Erica, his comrade Lady Applejack, is a black girl in junior high and he dgaf what anyone thinks about it. ALL OF DUSTIN AND ERICA. Dustin teaching Erica to embrace her inner nerd, to Erica staunchly declaring “I’ve bled with him!” When asked if she knows Dustin. Dustin who is the FIRST person that Max goes to when shit hits the fan in ST4 because god damn dude Dustin is the heart. Dustin’s unwavering support of Eddie even when the evidence is stacked against him, Dustin always believed in Eddie Munson. Dustin is the only one who truly offers Wayne condolences. He is the friend of all friends. Dustin is constantly carrying the party through crisis and discomfort, he’s dedicated, he’s unabashedly caring, and he’s the character that is able to socially move across the board in every direction. I fuckin love this little curly haired drama king because these geeks would be LOST without him!!! If Dustin isn’t the heart; he’s the Central Nervous System, he’s the nucleus, he’s fucking vital to not only the party but every other tertiary character of importance. He’s constantly inspiring and providing direction. He’s a goofball, he’s wise beyond his years, he’s a lover and he’s a fighter, he always has a plan and he always has a bad idea, he’s the voice of reason and the resounding falsetto alarm of things gone wrong, he’s never done anything wrong ever in his life, one time something ate his cat but besides that. He’s my heart of the show damn it!

[unfinishedslurs]

gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. 

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos. 

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter. 

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt. 

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then. 

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole. 

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out. 

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh. 

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks. 

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.” 

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve. 

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time. 

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country. 

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here. 

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn. 

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears. 

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken. 

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening. 

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone. 

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone. 

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs. 

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone. 

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt. 

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters. 

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car? 

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho.  And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute. 

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is. 

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says. 

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums. 

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish. 

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham. 

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else. 

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time. 

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again. 

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles. 

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands. 

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut. 

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest. 

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses. 

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees. 

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink. 

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before. 

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt. 

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips. 

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful. 

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message. 

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out. 

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall. 

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently. 

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it. 

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them. 

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock. 

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex. 

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner. 

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity. 

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly. 

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” 

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument. 

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve. 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares. 

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder. 

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

[marvelstars]

Artoo knowing everything is one of the greastest creative decisions Lucas made because it connects the PT very neatly with the OT.

How did Artoo know the place of Luke´s home? He has been there before.

How did he know Obi-Wan´s name and why he and old Ben saw each other so suspiciously? ObiWan is trying to order Artoo not to tell Luke anything about his Dad and Artoo isn´t having anything of it but he will let Luke discorver for himself what´s up.

Why was artoo so easy going inside the death star ? he is used to work on military stations just like that one.

Why he decided to take Yoda´s food? Because he knew exactly who this guy was and didn´t like him trying to hide himself from Luke?

Why is he so attached to Luke and Leia? They are his bro and his lady little kids, they are all he has left of them and he will protect them even if it destroys him. Same reason why he protects Threepio so much.

Artoo may not recognize or consider Vader Anakin but he will protect his kids in his memory, he got attached to Anakin and Padme since they were wee 14 and 9 years olds, he is way too invested in this family to let go of them now.

Artoo and Chewie are the war veterans of their group and it amuses them greatly to see the younger ones shenanigans, especially because they don´t realise how much more they know than them about everything.

Anakin´s force ghost said goodbye to artoo and nobody can take this from me :D

[queenimmadolla]

hey vivi!! big fan of you🩷 since you’re doing drabbles, do you think you can write about penny going on her first date ? i can only imagine what eddie would be like lol. love you ❤️

𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 (don't have to read but you'll want to) (𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

“I’m sorry???” Eddie croaked out over the phone, and your teeth dug into your lip to fight a smile off.

  “It’s innocent, Eds. They’re just seeing a movie together,” You mused and briefly placed the phone against your chest to listen for any cries throughout the house. Quiet. The baby was still asleep, thank god. You’d already raised two kids out of their baby phase of life, but this one was giving you and your husband a run for your money. Colic and Eddie’s genetics (dramatics) made for one hell of a Velcro Baby. Maple always had to be attached to one of her parents, or she was crying bloody murder and since Eddie was away for the next two days, it was you she needed to be on. You’d managed to sneak her successfully into her crib when she fell asleep—usually her big brown eyes flew open the second you bent over to lower her in since you were only ever allowed to be standing when holding Maple, per her demands—just before Eddie called (and you’d dove to stop that phone from ringing). He wasn’t impressed with your plans for the rest of the day, “I’ll be in the row behind her, with a baby hidden under my shirt and attached to my nipple, and Wayne if he doesn’t want to hang out with big Wayne. Don’t be dramatic.”

  Eddie scoffed so you rolled your eyes.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady.” Your back straightened from your lean on the counter, eyes scanning the living room for the camera he had to have hidden as he kept talking, “What are you gonna do when this punk puts the moves on my baby girl, huh?”

  “They’re ten years-old, Eddie. They’re gonna be sweating in their seats, I hardly doubt they’ll even hold hands.” 

  Eddie still didn’t like that. Really, there was no reason for Penny and whatever this kid’s name was to even be going to the movies. He’s sure the punk had a TV at home, and Penny had access to one, so they could just watch something separately in different homes, as in not together, and talk about it at school. Or not talk about it all. Not talk to each other at all. Yeah, Eddie liked that.

  “Tell her she can’t go.” He demanded, shooting a glare at the PA staring at him, eagerly waiting for him to get off the phone so he could usher him to his next interview. The hostility in his gaze was enough to make that very PA poof, disappeared into thin air.

  “I’m not telling her that.”

  “Fine, I’ll do it. Put her on the phone.” You didn’t bother hiding your smile anymore, grinning at his antics. He was such a dad and you loved it. Especially because you knew—what with him currently in New York—Penny would be at the movies with her little crush (and you, possibly your son, and your baby) whether Eddie liked it or not.

  You called for Penny down the hallway and you could hear her galloping down after your voice.

  “What?” She squawked out once she came to a halt at your side and like every other time she voiced that word in her flat tone with a hint of annoyance sprinkled in, you were reminded of the times your mother would reprimand you for being just as irritating.

  You lulled your wrist forward, tipping the phone to her as you raised a challenging brow, “Your dad wants to talk to you.”

  She quickly took the phone, holding it against the side of her head, hand pushing her hair out of her face before scratching her chin “Hi, daddy.”

  “Hi, sweet pea.” You could hear him croon and you shook your head in amusement. He was so fake. “What’cha up to today?”

  ”Nothing. OOH, Uncle Lucas patched my bike for me!” She recalled, thinking back to when the Uncle in question had followed through on his promise to repair her flat bicycle wheel before catching his flight back to Chicago in time for his practice. Penny would be watching his basketball game on TV tonight, after the movie. She cheered as loud as she could for him, but sometimes she cheered for his other teammate, Michael Jordan, too. All the time. She cheered for Michael all the time.

  “Of course he did, just had to steal my thunder. Mom says you’re gonna watch his game tonight.”

  “Yeah, here at home since you can’t take us. . .”

  “I said I’m sorry! I’ll take you to the Finals.”

  “If they win.” Penny mumbled and they both went silent before bursting out laughing. The Bulls wouldn’t be losing tonight.

  “Is that all you’re doing?” He asked, voice honey and sugar once he’d stopped laughing.

  “Pretty sure.”

  “Pretty sure? As in, not entirely positive?” Eddie’s voice broke as it went high and he cleared his throat, “Nothing you’re intentionally leaving out?”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “What about your LITTLE DATE?! Penny, you’re too young, baby. What have we been talking about for years now, huh? Thought we agreed you’d wait until a couple of years into a marriage before you could start dating. You pinky swore. Wouldn’t you rather me go? You know how Maple is—do you want a baby crying in the background when you recall your first date for the rest of your life? And really, your mom is gonna be chaperoning, don't you wanna wait until I get back? What if this kid is one of those punks that tease you about your mom being hot? Wouldn’t you much rather have your cool, rockstar dad, instead of your hot mom, sitting menacingly—I mean—hold on don’t hang up, I meant ‘measuredly’—”

  Penny’s eyes flashed over to you in a ‘can you believe this?’ manner as you heard your husband blabber on like some grown up in Peanut’ s Special and she rolled her eyes. Eddie must have mumbled something else because you saw her stand up straight and glance around the house with a pout before she mumbled back into the receiver, “I didn’t roll my eyes. . .”

divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡

[gunthermunch]

[Transcript under the cut]

Strawberry: sniffles Lucas: Strawberry, girlie… I'm awake Strawberry: whimpers Lucas: let me just…lay here for a minute okay? Strawberry: barks Lucas: you wicked old lady Strawberry: wiggles tail in old lady

Lucas: … Lucas: i could use some music Lucas hums along Lemon Tree (yes he took a bunch of Ernest's LP's with him) Lucas: where did i leave my phone last night WG: hey can you tone it down a bit? it's six in the morning and some of us are trying to rest Lucas: HOLY SMOKES WG: also it's here Lucas: what-ah-when-- WG: i know i know, you're welcome

[ltwilliammowett]

On 2 May 2024, the remains of an unidentified ship were uncovered on the north beach of Sable Island off the east coast of Canada. As the archaeologists have not yet finished their investigations, we do not yet know who this lady is or how old she is, but hopefully that will change soon.

Video by Zoe Lucas