#I DECEASED WHEN THEY HAVE THIS CONVO | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pullhisteeth · 1 year

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end of beginnings | eddie munson x reader

summary you spend christmas and new year with Eddie. in other words: crossing the line. [5.3k]

contains tw! canon-divergent convo about deceased parent (eddie's mum), sad munson xmas vibes, sad Eddie :(, money problems. eventual happy Eddie! christmas & new year celebrations, fem!reader, pet-names, friends to lovers, pining, fluff, alcohol, weed.

"Where's your tree?"

The weight of Eddie's head shifts off your knee where it's dangling off the edge of his bed. You feel your chest deflate. Hot breath passes your lips and mists before your eyes. His room is cold.

"What?"

His hair shifts past your bare skin and makes your ankle twitch, the ball of your socked foot nudging his chin. He huffs out an "hey," through a breathy laugh and reaches up to brush your shin with warm fingers. They're gone as quick as they come.

You push yourself up onto your elbows to look at the top of his head, but find his eyes staring at you. The bottom of his face is obscured by the crumpled comforter at the foot of his bed, so there's just a mass of dark curls and wide, brown eyes looking back.

"Your Christmas tree."

"Oh," he breathes. The air's hot on your knee and it makes your ankle twitch again. How can a short puff of air, a word that is barely a word, make you feel so silly?

You watch him turn back around and lean his head on the bed. He's hidden again, by his own hair this time, but you can tell he's staring at the ceiling by the way his breathing's gotten loud. He does that when he's nervous: stares up, breathes out.

Air fills your lungs again when you lie back down. Eddie's bed is warm and comfortable but you're stoned and your skin's sticky with embarrassment and you can't lie still. On the stretched skin of your hips, where your top's ridden up from friction, your fingertips drum aimless rhythms.

You hate the stillness of the room. You can't hear Eddie's mindless strumming and he's not humming anymore.

You feel him shift beside your leg, hair bunched up between his head and the bed.

"We've never really done Christmas," he murmurs. You barely hear him but something inside your chest constricts and cracks anyway.

The stillness is stubborn and doesn't shift. You wait for him, like you always do; everything you do hangs on Eddie. You bate your breath, willing him to say something else, but he doesn't, so you say, "why not?"

Regardless of how much of yourself you have given over to Eddie, how many things you've let go of, this feels like a line crossed.

By your feet, he stirs again. As you let your eyes trace a fine crack across his ceiling, you listen as he places his guitar softly on the carpet and hear the dramatic groan he lets out when he pushes himself to stand. In your peripheral you see him stretch, arms locking up above his head, fingers grazing the ceiling. You force your eyes rigid, not daring to look, knowing that if you do you won't be able to stop.

Beside you, the mattress dips as he flops backwards to join you. His leg is across your own, the juncture of his knee over your shin, and even though it's no different from every other time he's sat beside you, it's unbearable. Under your scalp there are little fires spreading, climbing down the line of your spine between skin and bedsheet. You arch your back.

"I wanna tell you," he whispers. "It's just hard."

Something wills you to turn. On your side, arm tucked beneath your head, you can study his face better. The curve of his nose, where his teeth bite his lip, two stray eyelashes on the rise of his cheek.

You reach over quietly and pick them up on the tips of your fingers. Bringing them to your lips, you close your eyes and blow gently.

Make a wish.

"It's okay," you whisper back. "I want to hear, if that helps."

He breathes a deliberate sigh and says, "just never had the money, y'know?"

You hum an affirmative noise and shift, wriggling so the bunched-up comforter under your hips is more comfortable. His eyes are still closed, lashes still kissing the tops of his cheeks.

"Wayne works most of it, 'cause the plant pays double and incentive pay so I think he earns, like, five times what he usually would, and it's kinda hard to say no to that."

At the word no, Eddie's voice wavers. It's slight, so quick you'd never notice if it weren't so quiet in the room. Along his collarbone your fingers dance to soothe him, tapping encouraging spots in the hollow of the bone.

You don't say anything, instead basking in the way the stiff air has finally dissipated.

The two of you lie still for a while. Eddie's breathing slow, shallow breaths out of his nose, and for a moment you think he may have fallen asleep. Through bleary, weed-stung eyes you can see that he's not, because he's still biting his lip. A crimson split appears in the centre, bold enough to make you gasp. He sticks his tongue out to lick it clean, but more blood seeps out.

Between licks he tells you, "mum used to work Christmas too."

You picture her. In her mind she is a combination of the few photographs Eddie has shown you, movement stilted because you can't fill in that gap on your own. As you think about how much you wish you could meet her now, your heart seizes.

You picture her in a uniform. It's a nondescript white shirt, red trims and a pretty name tag. Her hair's pinned up and she's running around, flitting behind a counter holding plates and smiling at fawning men.

"She did it for the same reason, y'know, extra pay for undesirable hours." The words come out of his mouth bitter, dripping with insincerity, as though they're the reason she was stolen away.

"She'd take me with her. I used to sit behind the counter and have a hamburger for Christmas dinner, and way too many slices of cherry pie." These words are sweet and come out in the shape of the slightest smile, curved only at the edges. He shifts next to you and turns to mirror you; his arm bends under his head and his other palm plants on the bed. His fingers are so close to your own you can feel the space around them pressing phantom indents into your skin. There's an urge somewhere inside you to reach out and grab him, but you decide to blame that on the weed and you lie still instead.

You avert your gaze from where your hand is and look at his face instead, a choice that you can't turn back from. His big, stupid eyes have descended on you and are unrelenting, boring holes through your own, like they have their own heat source. You stare back and take in how soft and sad he looks, face squished against the skin of his arm.

"I love cherry pie," you say.

He smiles, and says, "me too. She used to give it out for free when her boss wasn't looking, said it was Christmas and people deserved somethin' sweet. The guys who used to come in on Christmas were, like, truckers who never saw their families, or lonely old guys from the area. I never saw her eat on those shifts, always used to say..."

He trails off because his eyes have gone all watery and there's a tear on his nose. As you wipe it away with the knuckle of your middle finger, you ask, "used to say what?"

"This is so stupid," he groans.

"'S'not, Eddie."

"She used to say I was all the sweetness she needed."

You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you. "That's the cutest thing I've ever heard," you tell him.

"Yeah, she was the best."

"Sounds it."

"Christmas's never really been a Munson thing, I guess."

"Do you want it to be?" you ask, hoping to high heaven he can't hear the trepidation in the question.

"'S'alright, Wayne leaves me to it and I make a good go of it most years. Usually rent a couple movies and save some of the good stuff for the occasion." He wrinkles his nose when he tries to smirk at you, and it pulls that bubbly giggle back again.

It takes you a moment to work yourself up to asking him the question that has been sitting stubborn in your mouth for the past fifteen minutes. You wanted to ask it even before he told you these things, because you're not stupid and you know that the gaping lack of decorations in this trailer means the Munsons don't do Christmas. Eddie is your best friend, and the thought of him alone on the holidays is enough to send you loopy.

So you breathe deep through your nose and close your eyes, and then say lowly and quickly, "d'you wanna spend it with me?"

You squint your eyes further shut when you feel the hot release of a sigh on your arm. You hear him shuffle beside you and then his cold fingertips on the exposed skin of your waist.

He's pressing all the right buttons, willing you to look at him, so you do. You find those big, warm eyes and a silly, stupid, sympathetic smile you never want to look away from.

"You want to spend your Christmas day here, with me?"

"No, no, I want you to spend it with me. And my family."

Searching his face, you find nothing. No inkling of joy, shock, horror.

"Really?" In his voice, in that one word, there is a strange concoction of surprise and distrust. Perhaps you should be offended, but you get it. "I know I've met them, but, like, would they really want me there?"

"If you mean my parents, then yes." You reach up to move some hair behind his neck. "Mum thinks you're great. Dad'll come around quick enough."

"Dunno if I want to face him again," he murmurs, words genuine but playful.

You laugh through your nose and say, "you've just gotta give him a chance. He's a lil' protective of me, that's all. Same as you are."

That's another toe over the proverbial line. It's a thin one, and getting thinner, tight underfoot and your balance is going.

Your hand hasn't left his neck. It rests there gently, toying with the strands at the nape. Your faces are inches from each other, if that, so close you can hear his breath and you're sure he can hear yours too. You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat.

Something unspoken seems to hang over you, because even though you could kiss him without moving much at all, you don't. Time passes like this; you're both coming out of the other side of stoned, skin hot to the touch and hearts beating too fast. It'd be too easy.

Sure enough, Eddie appears at your front door on Christmas Eve, as agreed. You slide down the hall in new socks to swing the door open, finding him on the other side with a heavily packed bag on his back and another in his hand, hanging by his shins. He looks a little lost, eyes wandering until they land on yours.

Stepping forward to grab the bag he's holding, you reach up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Your wrap your fingers around his and he releases, giving the bag up, stunned in part by the brashness of your kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Eds."

You don't call him that often. When you do, it's moments like this - soft, familiar, and, of course, crossing the line.

"Merry Christmas, sugar."

You pull him over the threshold and before your family can ambush him, you head upstairs to your bedroom. Behind you, you hear him huffing, dramatics dialled up to eleven in an attempt to match your energy, and you’re laughing to yourself the whole way up.

In the small space between your door and your bed is a makeshift situation. There’s an old mattress and blankets, and you’ve stolen two pillows from your own bed to give to Eddie.

"Dad insisted," you tell him when he stops in the doorway and looks at the floor with an expression you can’t read but assume is disgust.

His voice, though, is softer than you expected when he says, "I didn’t think I’d be in here at all."

"Oh, obviously," you say, as though there even being a question about him sleeping elsewhere is unfathomable. "Slumber party."

From across the room he beams at you. He treads over the careful arrangement and drops his bag from his back next to the other one, which you placed at the end of your bed. He goes to unzip that one, rooting around inside until he pulls out something small.

"Do you want your present now, or tomorrow morning?"

He’s got it in both hands behind his back, hiding it from you. To wind him up you crane around him to try and get a look but he twists with you, so you say defiantly, “tomorrow.”

"Ugh, really?!"

"You won’t let me see it!"

"Yeah, but I want to see you open it."

"Tomorrow, Eddie."

"Fine."

He tosses it lightly back into the bag, and you watch it fall onto a pile of similar looking objects. As he wanders off, going to look at the new records you told him you’d found downtown, you peek into the bag to see he’s got at least eight perfectly wrapped gifts in there.

"Did you buy presents for my whole family?"

He turns back around to look at you with a Talking Heads album in his hands, face blank.

"Yeah. It’s Christmas."

Inside yourself, you feel a winding feeling, like there’s something growing out of the chambers of your heart.

"Good morning, handsome."

Squinting, Eddie eases his eyes open. You're bent over him, breath hot on his nose. Your face is split in two with a grin and from what he can tell, your hair's pinned up all pretty.

He grumbles, trying to deflect from the searing hot affection he feels for you, and turns over. But you're not having it, and soon he's lying exposed on the mattress on your bedroom floor, pyjamas on full display. He hears you giggle from above him and when he looks at you, he thinks that maybe he died in his sleep.

You're towering over him, hair half pulled back and eyes crinkled shut by your smile. Your lips are a pretty, deep colour and your clothes are pressed and fresh. Everything is rosy, mostly because behind you is your bedroom window, and through it there's a heavy stream of morning sunlight. It's lighting you up, broken only by the shape of your head. You're divine.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, sugar."

He's got that morning voice you've only heard a handful of times before, and most often over the phone. It's lower than usual and brittle, rough like the strike down the side of a matchbox. It sparks just like that, too; sparks inside your gut, down your spine, in your knees.

You extend a hand to pull him up. He takes it and you pull, heaving him off the ground. His knees bend to help himself up and he stands before you, made slightly taller than usual by the mattress beneath his feet.

"You look real pretty," he tells you from above. You look up at him through your lashes and bat them dramatically.

"Why thank you, bedhead." You reach up and tug playfully at the ends of his hair, and pretend you don't hear the involuntary noise he makes in response. "C'mon, get dressed. We've got presents to unwrap, and mum'll kill us if we take any longer. I'll meet you down-"

As you turn to leave him, aiming for the door, your breath hitches when his hand closes round your wrist. He pulls you backwards and you trip awkwardly, ankle hitting the edge of the mattress, so he catches you quickly and angles you so you're face to face.

"I mean it. You really do look pretty."

"I know you do," you say earnestly. "Thank you."

Quickly, you give him a kiss on the cheek.

"And I mean it when I say we'll be dead soon, so get dressed."

You leave him standing, shell-shocked, in the centre of your childhood bedroom, hopping down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

With your backs to the wall beneath the window, yourself and Eddie sit beside one another in your living room. The tree's tall and your mother decorated it to the nines, and the once-healthy pile of presents underneath has been nearly obliterated. There have been cheers and hugs and lots of wow, thank you!'s passed around. Everyone's cheerful.

Except Eddie.

You are acutely aware of the fact that this is all new to him. You check in every few minutes, hopeful he's not completely overwhelmed, and he seems okay. He's just quiet.

You nudge his knee with your own and he gives you a smile so soft you almost miss it.

"You gonna open mine?" you ask him softly.

He nods, reaching to his small pile that he's half opened. Your parents made sure to get him a few things, mostly socks and some pyjamas that you could barely hold back from laughing at. They're bright red and covered in little Christmas trees.

He picks up the large, flat package with both hands. It's kind of obvious what's in there, but you're excited to see his reaction anyway.

He tears gently at the paper, stopping abruptly when he reveals an unmissable detail.

"No fucking w- shit, sorry, I mean - shit. Sorry."

You're laughing at him, because he can't help his filthy mouth, even in front of your parents, but it's alright because they're laughing too. He breathes in, deep through his nose, eyes closed, before continuing.

He's rougher now, tearing back the pretty paper. He pulls out a black frame, and inside is a very normal looking tour poster.

Except it's not just a tour poster. It's a Metallica poster, from the tour the two of you went to in Indianapolis three months before. And at the bottom, over the illustrations, are pen marks.

"This cannot be real."

"Hundred percent genuine, promise," you tell him.

"No, seriously, what the- what the hell?"

You watch his fingers trace the glass over the signatures, and then look up at his face. His eyes and grin are wide, and you wish so badly you could frame that instead.

After a moment in which you catch a confused glance shared between your parents on the couch, you're tackled into a bear-hug. He seems to forget where he is when he kisses you a thousand times all across your face, a littering of silly, wet pecks that make you giggle. And then he squeezes you, and beside your ear repeats a chant of thank you, thank you, thank you.

"It's okay," you say. "Y'deserve it."

When he sits back upright, he says, "okay, your turn. But just a warning, I will literally never match this." He holds up the poster, squishing one side of his face with the edge of the frame.

"I can live with that," you say, reaching for the small box he'd hidden from you the previous evening.

The wrapping is surprisingly neat. It's a small cube, maybe a few inches wide all round. It's making you nervous.

You tear the paper gently and reveal a small velvet box.

"Am I going to be paying for a wedding I don't know about?" your dad says from across the room. You both look at him, tense, but ease when he starts laughing. "It was a joke, kids."

You laugh nervously, and look at Eddie. He simply nods, desperate for you to see what's inside.

You pull up the hinged lid and inside is a chain and a golden locket. It's gorgeous - an oval with an intricate pattern of swirling leaves.

"Eddie, I... This must have cost you a fortune," you breathe.

You look at him and find him looking away from you, up at the ceiling. Nervous.

He breathes out, slow, and says, "it's secondhand, so it wasn't too bad. The guy said it's probably, like, thirty years old. D'you like it?"

"It's absolutely beautiful."

You feel his fingers around your own and the box you're gripping so tightly. You release and he takes it into his own, pulling the chain out gently and gesturing for you to turn. When you do, his other hand pulls your hair to one side, and you try to ignore the way it melts your skin.

He reaches around you and does up the clasp behind your neck. You instinctively reach up to hold the locket and fold it over between your fingers, before getting up to show your parents. They coo at it fondly, complimenting Eddie on his considerate gift, and you give him a smile made of syrup from the couch.

"Are you awake?"

You're lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's late, probably one or two in the morning, and your room is dark. Eddie's on the mattress on the floor.

"Yeah," you hear him grumble, as though he's only telling a half-truth. "What's up?"

Sitting up, you adjust to the low light and try to find him on the floor. He's lying on his back, looking up at you.

"Come here?"

There's some shuffling - the pulling back of multiple blankets, the rustling of pyjamas, his light footsteps - before he's sat on the edge of your bed. Eddie likes to keep a respectful distance and it's driving you insane.

You shuffle forwards until your crossed legs nudge his elbow.

"Was today okay?" you ask him. No matter how hard you might try, masking the worry in your voice is impossible.

He seems to pick up on it, because he turns to hold your hands that are in your lap, and says, "I have had the best day ever."

"Really?"

"I don't think I can tell you what all of this means to me."

You can tell he's being perhaps the most earnest he's ever been with you. Sure, you know nearly everything about each other, but this feels different.

"That's good," you respond, smiling. "I wish Wayne could've come."

"He's bummed to be missing it," he says. His voice is low. "Thank you, seriously."

"Eddie, the idea of you alone on Christmas made me cry. I wasn't having it," you tell him, laughing softly.

"You cried?!"

"Yes!"

"Why?!"

"You'd be so lonely!"

He laughs with you, mouth sticky with fondness for you and your seemingly boundless compassion. His hand sits beside his thigh, gripping the sheets tighter than perhaps is normal. You don't notice, but his nerves are firing in every which way.

In the beat of silence you're sitting in together, you look at his fingers, where they scrunch your bedsheets, the vacant spaces by his knuckles that usually house the rings, and the silly pen scrawls on his skin. Without thinking you reach down and trace them with your pointer finger, joining them to the small tattoos on his wrist and up his forearm. Up and down you go, back and forth, both of you just watching in silence.

"We should get some sleep," you say absentmindedly with no true intention of moving.

"Hm, yeah."

Neither of you go anywhere. Your finger has stilled by his wrist, and the rest come to wrap around it. You lift his hand from the bed and place it firmly in your own, intertwining your fingers.

"Wanna stay here," you whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere," he responds, matching your volume.

He doesn't miss the way the corners of your mouth turn up, or the way you bite your lip to suppress it.

"Good."

Without another word, you shuffle backwards. Your hands remain locked, you pulling him with you. He clambers over your sheets and settles slightly awkwardly between your body and the wall; your bed's not small but it's also debatably not meant for two fully grown people, so it's a squeeze.

You have been in this situation only a small number of times before now. Sharing a bed with Eddie is easy - the boy sleeps like a fucking log, immovable and firm, but it's not him you worry about. You're a mover, wriggling through the night, and you'll be damned if you stop him getting a good nights sleep.

Eddie, though, is pretty sure the only time he ever has slept well has been the four times you've been next to him (who's counting?). You squirm, sure, but you also spread yourself out so much he can't help but be wedged under you somehow. Usually it's your legs over his, an arm over his waist, hair in his face. And it's blissful every time. Comfortable. Home.

"If I steal the duvet, kick me," you tell him with a mock sternness that makes him chuckle a breathy laugh. You're facing him, impossibly close to one another, with the sheets up under your chin. Beside you, he looks entirely effortless. You want to tell him so badly.

"Aye aye, captain."

At this, you kick him.

"I'm serious. I know I move."

"I think I can help with that."

"What-"

Thick, strong arms come around your middle before you can ask him what he means. Eddie has never handled you like this before. In every scenario in which you are close to each other, he's ever the gentleman, maintaining respectful distance and only reciprocating touch, never initiating. This is new, unexpected, uncharted.

It's dark and you can't make out his face properly when it's so close to your own, but he doesn't give you much of a chance to try when he brings it into the crook of your neck. You're startled stiff, but he doesn't seem to care.

And neither do you. In fact, the stiffness ebbs away into comfort, and you mould into the shape of Eddie's vacant space. Legs wind between legs, your arms come around his middle, and you settle your own cheek on what you think is his shoulder.

It's the best (and most peaceful) sleep you've had in a long time.

"What the fuck is this song?"

You just about make out Eddie's voice over the frankly offensively loud music playing in Steve's living room. Where the fuck he got this speaker system from is beyond you, and you wish he'd play something better through it.

"I have no idea," you shout back.

His hand is on your lower back, which is half-exposed by the plunge back of the top you're wearing. It's New Year's Eve and you're at Steve's infamous annual party, which usually ends with you throwing up in one of Mrs Harrington's plant pots out back.

This year, though, you're here with Eddie. With Eddie.

His hand falls from your back to find your own hand, and with it he pulls you through the bodies of all the people you went to high school with. Coming out in the kitchen feels like bringing your head up above water.

"That boy needs some serious music education," he grumbles.

Before you can answer, there's a heavy slap on your shoulder. You feel Steve before you see him, his weight resting on your back. You can tell he's drunker than he maybe wanted to be.

Turning around beneath him, you say, "hi, Steve."

The smile he gives you is lopsided and goofy and you and Eddie both laugh at him.

"Hey, big boy," Eddie tries. Steve's too drunk for his usual retorts; he just laughs back and says, "you kids havin' a good one?"

"You need to play better music," Eddie says.

"How- how dare you!" Steve slurs, hiccuping.

"Okay, soldier, let's get you some water," you say, bringing your arm around his middle and pushing him softly across the room to the sink.

Eddie helps you, getting a cup from the island and filling it. You feed Steve the water together, laughing when he protests and laughing harder when he downs it like he's been parched for days.

He disappears quickly into the throng of people in the adjoining living room, leaving you and Eddie in the quiet kitchen. You nudge up onto your toes and lean to see past Eddie's head, looking at the clock above the oven.

"It's nearly midnight," you tell him in a low voice. "We should find the guys."

You lead him this time, up the stairs and to the first door on the left. All the doors off the landing are ajar, thank god, so you try them until you find Robin, Nancy, Jonanthan and Argyle in one that smells incredibly strongly of pot.

"Shoulda known we'd find you in the fuckin' hot box," Eddie says, grinning, leaning with his arms crossed against the doorframe.

"It's nearly midnight, guys, c'mon."

Amidst a chorus of alright, alright, we're coming, you get them all on their feet and down the stairs. To your surprise, Steve's there at the bottom.

"There you all are! C'mon, countdown's about to start." His voice is pleasantly sobered, and the mom attitude is back, hand on hip and all.

The gaggle of you seep into the heaving living room, where the music's softened and someone's balanced the clocked from the kitchen on the mantlepiece.

Thirty seconds.

Eddie's behind you. His hand is still in yours, as it has been for most of the night. You turn to face him and find him staring back at you with eyes all lovedrunk and silly.

Twenty seconds.

Robin's beside you. Inhibitions lowered by pot and vodka, her wingwoman tendencies are unparalleled. And by unparalleled, you mean completely unnecessary.

"Munson, do you know how great this girl right here is?"

She leans her elbow on your shoulder and rolls her brows like she's straight out of some cheesy cop movie.

You and Eddie look at each other, then at her, and then back to each other. You laugh, and he says, "yeah, Rob, pretty sure I do." His smile's all lazy and fond.

Ten seconds.

The countdown begins, everyone around you shouting the numbers.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

You're still staring at him, at how he's looking at you, the way he did in his bedroom two weeks ago, how he did when you opened that locket, how he did when you asked him to stay.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Eddie thinks he might explode. How anyone has ever felt like this before without screaming on a regular basis is beyond him.

Three.

Robin's voice is booming loud in your ear, but you can barely hear her.

Two.

You have a moment, half a second, wherein you realise this is it. It ends here.

One.

"Happy New Year!"

There's a deafening cheer throughout the room, but Eddie is all you see. His hands come to pull your face into his own, where he plants the stupidest, most dramatic kiss he can muster. You smile into it too wide for him to keep going so he stops, but you force the grin down and pull him back, arms around his neck. You've wanted this for too long, thought about it for what is probably hours, maybe days. That line, the one the two of you have been dancing over for the past months, has vanished. In fact, you wonder if it was ever there at all, or if this has been the destiny for you and Eddie forever. Funny to think you ever thought any different.

He's still on you, all over you, hands in your hair and lips on yours. He tastes like spearmint and beer and peace. He's rough, perhaps from having to wait so long for this, and you can't blame him. How could you ever?

You pull back to look at him. He's all flushed, you can tell even in the low party lights, and beaming at you.

"Happy New Year, sugar."

"Happy New Year, Eds."

Is this really where it ends? Or is this the beginning?

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things 4 #wayne munson #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader

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youtastelike-sunlight · 1 month

Note

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, and 25 for the tattoo asks! Thanks! 🤪✌️

Katey for the love of god just tell me you want a video call where I strip down and show off my ink 🤣

(Also, the number of times I checked this list absolutely convinced you would have skipped ONE for the lulz)

1. How many tattoos do you have?

Uh. Somewhere around 35-ish? There's been a lot of, like, building out on existing ones and making them cohesive, so it's really hard to say. 40-50 sessions in the chair, for sure.

2. What is your favourite tattoo you've gotten?

Stop asking pansexual ADHDers to pick favourites. Actually, speaking of, that joke on Dropout's Breaking News a few weeks ago about how Dropout fans are "pansexual nerds with drama mask tattoos and anxiety disorders" called me the fuck out, four for four baby, so maybe right now it's my drama masks with a Shakespeare quote 😅

3. What is the most meaningful tattoo you've gotten?

Any of the multiple memorial tattoos for deceased family members, or the matching tattoo I got with my spouse after our wedding

4. What is your dream tattoo?

I'm hoping to get something cool on my chest post-top surgery, but that's a long-ass way away yet.

5. What was the most painful tattoo?

I fully used numbing cream when I got my inner thigh tattooed, but I missed a spot. Ask me how I realised.

Also my knuckles, jfc. Fully cussed my tattoo guy out for that one, it was his idea to extend the design down to cover a couple of knuckles in the first place lmfao.

6. What was your first ever tattoo and how old were you when you got it?

My uncle's initials after he died when I was 17. I had this deal with my mum that I could get all the facial piercings I wanted, dye my hair all the batshit colours I wanted, as long as I didn't get a tattoo until I turned 18. And I'm grateful for that, because I wanted some tacky-ass shit at 15-16. But we negotiated for the one at 17, which there was little to no chance of me regretting.

7. What is your most recent tattoo?

An envelope with a piece of paper coming out of it that says "wish you were queer xo" for a flash day fundraiser for RainbowYOUTH.

8. What does your family think about your tattoos?

My mum is fucking petrified of needles, so her objection isn't to the permanent ink on my skin so much as willingly subjecting myself to being stabbed lmao. I hid them from my paternal grandparents until my wedding day and then said 'fuck it they can't yell at me today!' and they have never, ever mentioned them since. My maternal grandmother hated my first few, offered to pay to get them laser removed when I was at about 4 or 5, then begrudgingly acknowledged that some of them weren't terrible, and when she went into hospice in 2017 she gave me a list of the sorts of things she wanted included in her memorial tattoo 🤣

9. What meaning do your tattoos have?

Everything from very personal connections/memories/experiences in the memorial tattoos down to "I rolled three dice and got three words and the artist designed something based on that and slapped it on my body", and everything in between.

10. How many tattoos do you want?

As many as I have good ideas.

11. Where is the most painful place you've been tattooed?

Is this a different question to #5?

I will say - back of calf tattoos are surprisingly difficult. Not the MOST painful place, but probably the longest I've been really genuinely uncomfortable? (Though, again, sans numbing cream on my inner thigh this would be a VERY different convo)

12. Where is a place on your body that you will NEVER get tattooed?

I dunno... butthole? Eyeball?

I'm unlikely to do a face tattoo, but who knows, really.

13. What is a design you love on others but would never get for yourself?

I can't think of a specific design!

14. What is your favourite style of tattoo?

New School, for sure. Though I have a bit of nearly everything 🤣

15. Would you trust a friend to choose the design of your tattoo?

Depends on the friend. Katey, you will not be designing a Fiona/Dragon tattoo for me, soz.

16. What are some tattoo assumptions you think need to die?

That having ever gotten a tattoo in the past means you have a ton of disposable income now (the amount of "omg they're on a benefit but they have tattoos" I've heard from dipshits how the fuck do you think tattoos work?????), that it's not a valid and fucking impressive form of artwork.

17. Do you have one tattoo artist who does all of your art or a stand out tattoo artist? Hype them up!

These days I do! Only since I moved back to my current city in 2017, though, so a lot of my older stuff is by other artists. His name's Steve, he's a fucking delight, every day I'm in his chair is a fucking party. When my grandad died I just booked him out for the day and chatted to him about my grandad for the morning until inspo struck him and then he turned his iPad around with the loveliest design on it.

18. Is there any artist you would love to get work done by? Tell us about them!

There are lots of incredible artists out there, but I don't think I have, like, one bucket list person.

19. What is your worst tattoo experience?

I had an apprentice go too deep on my pansexual tattoo and I still have a bit of raised scar tissue there lmao

20. What has been your best tattoo experience?

Getting my grandmother's memorial tattoo designed and tattooed. Per #8 I went in with a bit of a chaotic list and what the artist put together was just fucking stunning. It's my whole upper arm and every single element of it has really personal meaning.

21. Do you have any matching tattoos with people?

Yep! My spouse and I got matching Doctor Who tattoos after our wedding. I'm a DW fan of old, got my spouse into the show after we got together, and we had a reference in our ceremony but without discussing it, we'd both put references in our individual vows as well lmao.

I also have a few like... standard tattoos, for lack of a better word? As well as a few flash sheet designs. So I definitely have matching tattoos with strangers 🤣

22. What is your opinion on face tattoos?

Follow your bliss, babes, but you know the society we live in and you're accepting the potential bullshit. (I have hand tattoos!! I'm not saying it's RIGHT I'm saying it IS.)

23. Do you think tattoos make people look less professional?

No, but I know people think they do. Where's that tweet about how tattoos make you perfect for corporate culture because it shows you can sit through the most painful bullshit and that's every corporate meeting ever?

24. Post a picture of your favourite tattoo.

It me, the Dropout fan.

25. Give us a tattoo tour!

Katey I will absolutely get booted off tumblr if I do that.

[tattoo asks... except katey's already asked them all so]

#tattoo asks #hagface #you fucking maniac I miss you

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pbaintthetb · 3 months

Text

Invincible s2e5

It's here, it's here!! Some of my thoughts. Spoilers ahead

"He's never on the hook for the lives he destroys. Just leaves it for everyone else to clean up. Again and again." -> incredible

Brothers eh!! and also Debbie saying mark must get his nobility/reluctance to abandon people from her side ;-)))), especially since this is like one of if not the only time mark is compared to his mum and not his dad. (Whether it's a you're nothing like you're dad, you will be your dad, your dad doesn't influence my view on you)

debbie taking time off work ot look after mark's brother just after they all said they wer so glad she was back :-(( I get that she priortises mark's education though

oop the donald sub plot, forgot about that but now Im hella intrigued again, he a cyberman, though he's the six million dollar man to hear Cecil tell it (we can rebuild him...)

william boxed up mark's stuff.... oof that must have been rough (for william i mean, assuming he's dead)

cecil stfu and stop being a creeper- although if he wasn't like that he wouldn't be cecil, his job is to be a bastard in order to do what he deems necessary

"He's an alien. We're more qualified to take care of him."- very ominous very uncomfortable, glad to see mark isn't having any of it but still. actually ingernal loving mark's convo with cecil

Cecil's little side eye at the end, he's scared ohohoh. and that petty "im sureyour mum will love ooking after her ex's kid" like uh, no but she said she'll do it for mark and otherwise mark will do it so so?

Mark and Amber are cool, and yeah it's nice to see him listening to her problems even if maybe it's revealing that uh... yeah he can't be there for her and that's complicated (as mark said)

Rudy and monster girl is intersing, like i get why she's pissed and i get where he's coming from

DECEASED they all knew he was from mars.Almost disappointed because him desperately trying to be human was hilarious but also this reveal was the funniest fucking thing so, even his reveal felt so unhuman

also how noble and excited the abckstory is until the awkard... so I sort of tried to kill him but I didn't even do that right and now he's coming to earth to kill us all possessed by a hive creature

"No, before, I was lying. Now I'm telling the truth. It's very different." hilarious, might steal that.

Rex, gonna go OOC real quick, then pan to Atom Eve AMV... iconic, I wonder what this could mean /s

Ok I was like, stop commenting on everything but like Rex is a prick but the absolute funniest, saying that maybe Eve's parents WANT her to be abducted because they still haven't fixed her broken window lock killed me

also more seriously actually the familiarity with which they talk and rex moves around eve's room (the l atter would be weird if it weren't so obvious eve could make him stop if she wanted) is great? Because yeah they dated for a while, like they should know each other even if they don't get on anymore and it's great to see the evidence of that Similarly the fact taht Eve reveals at teh end she knew rex just wanted something but that she also does think he genuinely helped her see that she helps people

Man, mark :-( spread too thin, and he's realising it but what is the way out?? Butter spread over too much bread and you can't just put it back in the tin

Shapesmith's intonation and diction and also just his timing of what he says is, mwah, chefs kiss, incredibel

when is the shapesmith show coming, we've already had "Allan"???

was gonna say "nice fight scenes" then kate happened, and i mean they're still good but oh fuck holy shit oh god hog do

.um. well post the homeward guardians fight all I have to say is that it seems that Rex is ranking guardian after all.

Or um, them some cliff hangers amirite, sure do hope everybody is fine

but no did like Rex's last line of the episode and also King lizard's smarmy evil pragmatism ooh very nice.

#invincible s2 #invincible s2 spoilers #invincible season 2

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echotunes · 10 months

Note

Slimecicle characterization: (sorry this is a bit long)

* Mainly referred to as slime but close friends (Wilbur, Philza, etc.) almost exclusively call him Charlie

* He makes up slime related words a lot and will just make random noises

* Makes up songs a lot/ will replace lyrics of existing songs to whatever he finds situationally appropriate/ funny

* Does both goofy humor where he laughs at himself/ along with others and dry humor where he plays everything totally straight

* “Yarf/ I’m gonna yarf” (throw up)

* “My bones!” (When hurt)

* Doesn’t use emoticons in messages, no caps unless it’s the full word for emphasis, single messages with punctuation if needed (chat example: “we won the war. (qsmp)” vod 35:45 you can see his chat history with Foolish)

* He has a really extensive vocabulary and when making jokes will always switch up the phrasing/ use synonyms so as to not say the same words repeatedly

* He will make jokes to himself/ quietly and if no one heard it then he might repeat it once more but never more than that

* He makes himself the butt of the joke a lot, especially with new people. Only when he’s super close friends with someone will he makes jokes about them

* Literally king of the bit. Will take any opportunity to continue a bit or make a new one (breaking Roier’s windows, calling Phil old, getting “stuck” in the ghost maze)

* Mf is both easily distracted and laser focused, often at the same time and rarely aware of his surroundings

* He almost never responds to being hit when people are trying to get his attention, especially if he’s having a conversation with someone else (in general if he’s having a one on one convo with someone he’s practically blind to anyone else)

* Doesn’t move around when talking to the point that someone may leave his view and it might take a few seconds for him to move to see them again

* Despite being highly social he doesn’t like interacting with large groups that have multiple conversations going on (most likely cause it’s hard for him to pull focus) - he’ll often ask others to step to the side

* *After leaving a group* “I can finally hear myself think”

* He’s isn’t super knowledgeable about minecraft so isn’t aware of a lot of mechanics. He plays almost exclusively to hang out with people and doesn’t enjoy doing things alone

* Will play into his own ignorance for a joke - typically comically over exaggerated

* He’s super grateful for gifts and if it’s something that directly benefits him (amour, food, supplies) he’ll always ask if the giver is sure

* If he’s around quackity there is an extremely high chance of him getting manipulated

* Boy has pipes and while yes this does make him a good singer it also makes him a really loud screamer

* Loves to be silly and goofy and then pulls out the most gut wrenching angst/ trauma you’ve ever had the misfortune of witnessing

* When in serious situations will entirely drop any jokes and talks very sincerely/ more soft voice

Specifically QSMP

* Canonically can shape shift

* Was kept in a cage as a child and had abusive parents and multiple other siblings who are assumedly deceased

* Thinks very lowly of himself and doesn’t think himself deserving of any kindness shown towards him since accidentally killing Tilín

* Is an alcoholic and self harms (uses a taser to electrocute himself when he feels sad… which is often)

* Loves his family more than anything and actively talks about how much he misses them every time he streams

* Fights with Mariana are more humor based - like what’s the most absurd thing that can be said

* Repeats eggs’ names a lot when talking to them

* There’s natural gas in his mine that makes him hallucinate and forget things

(I definitely went a bit overboard with this so feel free to pick and choose what would actually be useful for the cheat sheet. Hopefully there’s some helpful stuff here 💙)

!! ty so much anon! I'm not much of a Charlie viewer so this is a big help I'll make sure to add it to the doc

#:D #echo.txt #echo.asks #anon #character voices cheat doc

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elvenbeard · 1 year

Text

I'm fucking deceased about the Sun ending once more aösdfhfdkffjj... I still have my first playthrough's savegame to go back to now and then to hurt myself with the feels for fic writing purposes and öasjdffjffkd. I usually went with some of the more positive dialogue options in the convo with Kerry, which simultaneously always felt to me a bit like V is not telling the entire truth in favor of not worrying Kerry which is... absoltuely in character for Vince, on the one hand.

ON THE OTHER HAND THOUGH by the time of the Sun ending they've been together for a while already, had their ups and downs, probably tried and failed several attempts of saving V somehow... And I think at that point things don't look good and they both know it like... Vince wouldn't feel the need to hide he's not doing well (although I do love the "I have a black belt in cuddling" dialogue from Kerry so much but HHH).

But one dialogue option that alwasy scared me, that I could never bring myself to take so far was "We both know how this ends" when you're out on the balcony, talking about the future (because I REFUSE. You're not a psychic, Vince, you can't know how it ends). But now I dared to choose it and omg... it hurt just as bad as I'd expected but... Vince apologizing that he hadn't planned this to go this way, that he'd hoped Alt would actually save him and all would be good, probably feeling like he led Kerry on by promising a future together they might not have? And omg, Kerry then reminiscing about their convo at Dark Matter (and actually calling it a date and I'M DEAD because at that time Vince would've wondered exactly that "is this... a date? it feels like one, but is it??? or does he just want some time away from the medias?? but he says I'm sth special?????" *confused feels intensify*)... how the city wouldn't be the same for him anymore, without V, and IN RESPONSE to that V says "that's why I gotta do this job" (my thought process here: city not the same without you -> gotta do the job -> conclusion: city will not be without me, you won't lose me -> conclusion of conclusion: V is not going on a suicide run hoping to die, like it's interpreted sometimes, and Mr. B has the key to saving him somehow).

All that in combination with the "Says the one who isn't dying" dialogue (that also hurts SO BAD, cause V is so so sad and tired and exhausted ;A;) that I also never quite dared to choose, and Kerry being like "I'll always be there for you, no matter what, until the end" has me bawling about pixel men once again on this beautiful Friday afternoon.

Okay, brb crying some more, adjusting a couple dialogues in my post-canon fic now, but also feeling very vindicated in my headcanons and plans for that in general.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 spoilers #kerry eurodyne x v #male v cyberpunk #cyberpunk v #the sun ending #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions #my headcanons #can someone scream with me about them pls

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besidesitstoowarm · 4 months

Text

"The End of Time part 2" thoughts

happy valentine's my bf and i ate indian takeout watching this ep and both teared up when wilf saluted the doctor. there is so much going on here

so we open on the time lords convening and one of them says "the doctor still possesses the moment" a detail i did not recall. i can't wait to get to "day of the doctor" and track the throughlines. there's a seer predicting "gallifrey falls" again i say. apparently many people in the time war just die over and over on repeat, which is rough. rassilon describes the doctor/master relationship as "enmity of ages" their impact.

the master taunts the doctor about wilf saying "your dad's still kicking up a fuss" and wilf says "well i'd be proud if i was" it hurts me. the doctor calls donna his best friend and then says "you could be so wonderful....you could be beautiful" to the master hello? girl? the master says "i don't know what i'd be without that noise" and the doctor says "wonder what i'd be without you" HELLO??? GIRL??? the doctor tells the master he's dying and the master snaps back "this body was born of death, all it can do is die" we love inevitability!

so we get THEE laugh, the one repeated on echo from the last part, and it's the moment where the master realizes the time lords planted the drumbeat in his head. that's the moment that plays in everyone's head, the realization

ten and wilf are stranded in space. ten says he's 906, meaning only like 3 years have passed as ten?? the fucking second doctor was 450, two doctors (and two had more life to live after that convo) had 450 years and ten had THREE?? damn this bitch was busy. he and wilf trade war stories. wilf says they must all seem so tiny to him and he says "i think you look like giants" then he gets all melancholy again. "sometimes i think a time lord lives too long" yeah dude i remember lazarus too. he refuses wilf's gun until he realizes the time lords are coming back and then he SNATCHES it up

star wars ass scene shooting missiles out of the sky. wilf says basically it's okay if they're about to die but please tell him. ten does not say anything and they crash to earth instead. rassilon and the other time lords come back and everyone says exposition out loud. one of the dissenters was the woman who appeared to wilf in visions last ep, she clearly recognizes the doctor and the doctor clearly recognizes her. wilf even asks at the end who she was and the doctor doesn't answer. prevailing wisdom 10 years ago was that this was the doctor's mother but i don't think i believe that. if she is anyone we've met before, it's 1000% susan. before the war he was a father and grandfather and now he is NEITHER!! but he is STILL A DOCTOR!! it's rich to me. i want to ask russell if this was supposed to be anyone in particular i'd give anything. "vale decem" plays a little when they lock eyes

anyway the master shoots rassilon w force lightning for making him this way and they all get exploded i think? they all disappear anyway, time lock restored, just the doctor lying in a broken heap on the floor. wilf is locked in the radiation room and the doctor screams and cries and throws up knowing he has to save wilf (or feels like he does). "my reward" and all that. this doesn't really feel like rose to me, i'm not sure where this attitude comes from. closest analogue i can make is eleven snapping in "a town called mercy" where he even references the master as one of the lives lost because he showed mercy. he does save wilf tho, of course. he engages in his favorite pastime of "dying of radiation poisoning" and goes on his farewell tour

martha and mickey are married which is bullshit. he sets jack up with alonso which is cute. hi sarah jane and son. he stops by donna's wedding and gives her a lottery ticket (winning) w money he borrowed from her deceased father. wilf salutes, crying, and we both choked up watching. ten says "i'll see you one more time" did russell know? did he know. i'm glad it was true at least. then rose and jackie!! it's new years 2005!! i bet you're gonna have a great year!!

ood sigma plays him out. "vale decem" in full swing, it's a banger of a track. iconic "i don't want to go" and eleven's introduction by crashing his on-fire tardis. this episode was a wreck and made no sense. it's amazing and i love it dearly. gonna try and do a specials/era retrospective in the airport tomorrow

#doctor who #besides its too rewatch #special #The End of Time

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stilldancewithyou · 2 years

Note

I haven’t rewatched to 100% confirm but I’m pretty sure Conrad never smokes again after his convo with belly on the beach and I find that really endearing

YES! I feel comfortable confirming that this is a fact. I love that they did that. I felt like the scenes of him smoking were very intentionally placed and kind of emphasized and I love that him not smoking is something you have to notice quietly on your own, between the lines without the show directly telling you.

After they talk by the pool at the beginning and she tells him to quit and hits her with the "what'll you give me if I do?", if I remember correctly he puts out the joint he's smoking as he gets up to go with Jere and Steven. When they had that convo on the beach and he stopped smoking for her, and the way he looked at her during that convo...I was deceased. it was so cute and as you said endearing. And it just shows how much he loves and respects her. BUT THEN when I finally realized, after countless rewatches, that he never smokes again after that? I think we all need to sue for emotional damages for that. My heart is so full just thinking about it. I would also like to point out that after the 4th of July margaritas, we don't see him drinking either, at least not as heavily/nonstop as he was- when he is drinking after the 4th of July it's always just one beer in his hand and he's never drunk (he wasn't even really drunk on 4th of July despite the margaritas). And when Belly first saw him smoking by the pool she gave him a whole speech about how it's bad for you and all the things he's said about how bad smoking is for you, so I would like to believe that he stopped smoking and getting drunk for Belly, because he wanted to be the good guy she knows he is- he wanted to be his usual self, his pre-Susannah being sick self that Belly fell in love with. And as the summer went on, he didn't need being high/drunk to distract him from his pain because he had Belly instead. Because she's his sun and everything except for her disappears when he's with her. I love the sneaky way Jenny Han snuck this little detail in. I don't think my heart will ever recover from it. She snuck little details in the books too about how he quit smoking. It makes me so happy. Conrad was doing so much to show his love and I wish people could understand/see that.

#ask #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #belly conklin #team conrad #belly x conrad #conrad x belly

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chthonicgodling · 7 months

Text

lmao @marscats37’s tags on that Ares n’ Ker post about how Ker just couldn’t care less that Thanatos is ✨deceased✨ like. yeah. that thought has inspired this tangent. whoops accidentally wrote an essay! also I didn’t proofread this at all so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make ANY sense

disclaimer ig yes thanatos has done awful awful things but that’s not what I’m talking about right now so bear with me - ANYWAY -

my point begins with, it’s funny because in current canon and for QUITE some time prior I’m always talking about Thanatos in the past tense like oh he Did That and he Traumatized This Person and Because of Him This Is Like This — like now he’s just the ~villain ghost of the narrative~

but for a while he WAS a character who would actually appear in the Elysiumverse, not even just to show up and cause a bloody scene (he did that too 😔) but prior to Neo’s kidnapping that got him arrested sometimes he would just Be There™ loosely in the Underworld to be a bitch to Maci and Tory (the contents of those convos are heavily from the before-april-thought-to-archive-things-time and are mostly lost to the sands of time) -

and the POINT of this rambling is that like, delightfully I think the personality and character of Thanatos is something that I don’t get to talk about much lately or right now!?? we know he was among the most despicable assholes in the elysium’verse and we know his list of egregious crimes and we know that By The Time We (as in, you all, as in the events that I mostly ever talk about here) Got To Meet Him he was already on a spiral down into the full unmasked supervillainry that led to his downfall— but like. what was he like to interact with beforehand.

…..as an aside please know that even with Maci’s history with him and even though she remained terrified of him at her core, Maci had buried all that down (to not deal with for. Years) and so whenever she and thanatos ran into each other in those aforementioned beforetimes - which wAS MORE TIMES THAN YOU’D THINK - their interactions were less “cowering from a scythe” that you might be imagining and more “loudly bickering at each other bc Maci couldn’t let him know he was getting to her” so that’s. Yes yes before Thanatos reactivated™ he was more of a nuisance fggkfk

BUT ANYWAY

and so, in regards to Thanatos and Ker……. What WAS he like to interact with beforehand well. Ker can tell you! oh she fuckin couldn’t stand him LOLL. sure they considered each other allies - despite being distant siblings they did I think hook up quite… frequently which. okay yeah gross but Greek mythy disclaimer, and this is hardly the worst thing they’ve ever done at least not tHANATOS - insufferable as she found him he was attractive at least I mean 😐 anyway - but Ker like. did not LIKE him?!!!

Ker IS an Elysium villain but honestly…. really JUST due to her relationship with Chal, don’t forget Ker has never actually DONE anything against maci and Tory other than allow Chal to be born as a weapon against them (Thanatos’s idea) and stand there menacingly when Neo was kidnapped (and rip Chal’s shoulder off at the time). She’s disliked Maci because fucking everyone dislikes Maci and disliked Tory because Maci really plucked this destined-to-die-mortal up and ascended him out of deaths grip how dare He Do That but like. Ker’s priority has always been her job and duty as Death

And so her relationship with Thanatos is 1) obligation based - based on the fact that he’s the only other death and if anything happened to him she’d have more work to do. dddddid she kinda sorta definitely encourage his murdery tendencies when he was a fucked up child!! okay yes she did do that but. he took that and ran with it. Like I said Thanatos and Ker ARE siblings many centuries apart and the concept of a second death exists because Ker (and Morpheus, that’s another story) had gone to the fates long before Thanatos was born to get some Fucking Help. and then this is what she ended up with?!!! because number TWO-

her relationship w him was ANNOYANCE BASED!??? because thanatos did not ever give a shit about his own duty and instead was constantly distracted murdering people he wasn’t supposed to (Ker did cover for him, so I guess that’s a crime to add to her own list) . He was constantly getting tangled in needless drama that HE started all the time with the palace or with whoever he was tormenting at the time. To be fair…….. Ker did absolutely enable all this to happen so again she’s not like,a good person but her allyship with thanatos was soooo reluctant lol

Like, Thanatos annoyed the shit out of her! At his “height” he was popular and charismatic and chatty (in the underworld - on olympus he was bitchier, as warranted<33 tho he did schmooze with Ares too who was like. I see right thru u dude you’re fucked up gtfo). he was constantly wrapped up with his stupid little schemes and power plays while Ker and her all business zero sense of humor personality was like. fucking god can you focus. literally like? Evil deathy version of Dog Person/Cat Person.

when thanatos came to her as his own insanity was ramping up and was like Can You Do Me A Favor Pleaase Please Pleeeeeeaaaaseeeee I Need You To Have An Evil Baby With Me her response was basically are you fucking kidding me. he got her to agree with the promise that a double death born god would be evil and cool. (It was Chal, and she was not either of those things fgkkfg). but it was also to get him to just stop whining at her about it.

Meanwhile, Thanatos - knew Ker hated him, first of all - but also knew that she was/is WAY stronger than him, as she could (and did. Sometimes. When he was particularly irritating) break bones or make anyone spit up ichor with just a blink of her eye as goddess of violent death - and so Thanatos calculated that he could not afford to have her an as enemy. but… Thanatos also HATED that she was stronger than him, raging cocky misogynist beneath the surface that he was. and so to her face he tolerated her back and even batted his eyelashes and acted as companion and ally— but seethed under his breath about having to feign friendship and respect to Some Dumb Bitch

…and every time Ker HEARD HIM SAY THAT UNDER HIS BREATH she’d snarl at him until he backed down fgkgkg

and so once Neo was born and Ker realized that SHE DIDNT NEED THANATOS ANYMORE she really checked the fuck out of the situation and just. Politely waited for him to fucking die. it did take a few years but sure enough he was euthanized and in exchange Ker got Neo, who despite being the daughter of the prince and princess that she really disliked was… comparatively not that bad.<333 and they all lived happily ever after

so in conclusion!!! yes Ker didn’t gaf that thanatos was gone lmao. not in the slightest. Thanatos and Melinoe were committing murders for each other’s honor during the height of their villainy but when Thanatos was exploded into literal chunks, KER was like….. :-) hmm ok. that’s fine.

this went all over the place but I hope this has been a fun look at a separately bizarre dynamic taking place on the outskirts of Elysium this whole entire time <3 the end

#oc talk #a lengthy and rambly Ker and Thanatos post lies beneath this cut!!#uhh just in case. gReek mythy sitch but -#incest tw //#death tw //????? idk man #Elysium essays

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halleyuhm · 7 months

Note

Trick or treat!!!!!!! - @maddstermind

You've got a treat!

Here's a chat scene from Route LXVI. I had to ultimately put it aside because it was not progressing the plot in an already slow chapter, but it was fun to write, and it worked as a great character study. Plus, it marks the beginning of Liv's worst lie~~

The layout is a bit weird because I normally write my chats adjusted to the left or right according to who is talking. Here in Tumblr it's a bit different. Bear with me. There it goes:

You:

Hey remember this convo from the neolitic era

Image

Highzs🎱:

LMAOOO where did you find this?

You:

Image

Got them by digging in ancient discord convos

Highzs🎱:

Damn I didn't know grammar

That youre is killing me

You:

Aw I think you were trying to spell cool

like pot8os

Highzs🎱:

pot8os I'm deceased

You:

When you used to write everything wrong on purpose

Highzs🎱:

to mess up with you

so you wouldn't know when I actually spelt something incorrectly due to me being an idiot

You:

being dyslexic is not cinamons with being and idiot

Highzs🎱:

Synonyms*

You:

I did it on purpose!

Highzs 🎱

You are missing an n too

You:

I don't rely on the autoccorrect

Highzs 🎱

Such a helpful tool, though

Could have saved me some misunderstandings

You:

HAHAHAH

LOWZS I JUST REMEMBERD

That one time you told us that you were sick

Highzs 🎱

HAHAHAH NOOOO

You:

YOU TOLD US YOU HAD ANIME

And I spent the whole afternoon searching "anime illness" on Google

and getting top tens instead of answers

Highzs 🎱

HAHSHHSHS SORRY

But that's the reason you finally watched Your lie in April, so worth it

👉👉

You:

👉👉

Probably my fave dyslexia moment

Highzs 🎱

And meanwhile Soda like

Sucks dude, wanna play some Smash until you get better or

You:

HAHAHAHAH

I distinctly remember the moment you said you just needed iron and he went like what

Highz 🎱

He still teases me about it

Did you know that

In those screenshots you sent

In that conversation

I was kinda

Hinting

Towards him

You:

WHAT

I JUST CHIKES WHAT

Highzs🎱:

WHAT??

You:

CHOKED

I'm rearesding everything

Highzs🎱:

Hahaha really???

Ok you are

Hey runt come back down

You:

I'm back

Dammit Lou

I'm going to be so honest

During that whole conversation

I thought you were talking about me

Highzs🎱:

HAHAHAHA I KNEW IT RUNT

The moment you said

"You know you could tell me anything right?"

You:

I was so abviously trying to ease you idiot

I wanted to be a good friend regardless of the feeling situation

I was so off though, damn

Highzs🎱:

Awwww that's so sweet

I actually did like you for a while though

I was pretty confused

You:

Haha no bet

I'm glad you told me <3

Even though I already knew it lmao

Highzs🎱:

Me too

Now

*uno reverse card*

Tell me who you were referring to

You:

NO SHOT

Highzs🎱:

As that written statement proves

We made a promise for a 50/50

Anytime one of us confesses, the other has to do so

You:

Yeah ._. but I wanted to talk about the present, not the past

Highzs🎱:

The present? Weren't you with Percy?

You:

Uhm I could be poly

Highzs🎱:

Alright, intriguing

But first things first

Years later I'll know who you were referring to in that convo

You:

Man, you already know

Highzs🎱:

Say it

Saaaayyyy it

I'm waiting

You:

Man we were rivals and didn't even know it

Highzs🎱:

Nameeeee

You:

Good grief

It was Soda

Highzs🎱:

WHAT

You:

Don't act surprised you knew it

Highzs🎱:

Okay runt

Why did you never tell me

You:

You've activated my trap card!

Same question back to you

Highzs🎱:

Sexuality struggles plus one of the pivotal points was you

You:

I didn't expect a sound answer

Highzs🎱:

You?

You:

Struggles

Highzs🎱:

Fair enough

You:

I'm returning now to compensate though

I didn't send the screenshots for nothing

If you will also tell me your name, of course

Highzs🎱:

That's the promise we made so

You:

100%?

Highzs🎱:

Cross my heart and hope to die

On three?

You:

Uhh nice

On three

Highzs🎱:

You:

Highzs🎱:

I like Maeve

You:

I think I like Gray

HWAT

Highzs🎱:

What?????

#any spelling mistakes are 100% on purpose lol #writeblr #writing #ask games #trick or treat #am writing #wip excerpt #wip: lxvi

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worms-i-think · 2 years

Text

Artem’s Personal Story, Chapter 4.

I decided to be a geek and write down all my thoughts in a notebook before compiling them here :) HEAVY spoiler warning as I will just say everything that happens as it plays out. I should also mention that this chapter deserves a strong content warning for in-depth discussions of suicide and predatory behavior toward minors.

04-01.

Kimberly!! She’s got a voice and Artie’s got a voice (again)! So glad Suwabe Junichi’s back—he is comfort food to my ears.

Talking about blind dates ‘again’ before even saying hello implies she’s insistent about this lmao—Kimberly strikes me as the type to demand grandkids.

& Artem also sighs upon seeing her caller ID but smiles ‘wryly’ aww lol

(Insert the TVTropes page for ‘Shipper on Deck’.) This short convo implies that they talk frequently—they didn’t even say hellos or goodbyes.

Kiki calling the intern ‘puppy boy’—PLEASE tell me she nicknames everybody like this ♡♡!!

Ah yes. Average business partners who call each other at night and cook each other food and share cozy car rides to work. Artem might as well kiss her on the forehead before heading into his office and insist that’s professional too.

^ because he wants to KissHerOnTheMouth bc they are InLove

Man, poor puppy boy intern. First his boss gets all icy jealous and now his roommate is dead? Tough day at the office

04-02.

What’s with Artem’s secret desk drawer full of letters? Does he keep thank-you notes from previous clients?

This is the second case of ‘smiles wryly’ he’s had. This is a common symptom of being in proximity to loved ones.

Due to his closeness to the elderly of Stellis, Artem now embodies the spirit of every insistent yet caring grandmother upon hearing a rumbling stomach.

Of course he likes the atmosphere of family restaurants. He’s half reassuring dad and half abandoned child. The man was made for family.

I’m sorry the wording of ‘falling from height incident’ was so bad 💀

04-04.

Dear Lord, I get distracted by the superficial aspects of this game so often that I always forget about its content. Again, warnings stand and will only get worse from here on out.

Every mention of Professor Hume brings me pain. Urgently awaiting more info 💔

They changed her name from Yuline to Lynnette after like 1 sentence or something?? MHY please hire me to revise your scripts…please.

^ Oh my god the guilt gets worse. Oh my god this story hurts me.

04-05.

Calls someone Mr. Lambert and the text box says Director Yang…

04-06.

Stats in the hospital LMAO WHATTT that was so sudden!! This hill is a safety hazard, lawyers get on that ASAP 🤣

(Artem is going to absolutely baby her in the incoming month) of course he’s acting like a worried mom LOL

‘Ah man, your arm got a boo boo…a lil ouchy ouch…welp, better live with me ♡!’ He says ‘let me take care of you’ as if it’s normal hehheee

04-07.

^ (sob)

His voice is so…hopeful and excited…

^ this situation is beauty incarnate

Rosa, ma’am, you can’t just enter rooms in someone’s house in your pjs. This could’ve ended up much more awkward than it was.

^ AHHHH THE SLEEPY VOICE IM DECEASED ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum (typical coworker things ♡)

How much of him really believes that all of his loved ones will eventually leave? Is this coming from the realist in him or the neglected child he was?

04-09.

husbandandwifehusbandandwifehusbandandwife

Dude NOOOO HIS MOMMM Why did they skip over Kimberly and Rosa’s first convo? I’d love to see Kimberly be like ‘who is this woman in my son’s home this morning 🤨’

HAND over the baby photos

‘thought marriage was arranged by the country’ —Artem, did your parents show no affection to each other when you grew up?? :((

(Artem frantically stuffing love letters into their grave) iconic

04-10.

Holy crap she’s a predator.

And comparing colleagues to a literal teacher/student dynamic involving a teenager? Like, yes I agree that Artem and Rosa have a bit of a power dynamic going on considering he was her supervisor previously and is a more well known figure, but that’s much different than this situation considering:

1) they would both be consenting adults in their twenties IF they WERE in a relationship, and

2) he’s her coworker, not an educator in charge of a child.

No way don’t tell me this dude is a predator too?? Just burn down the school, there are too many creeps in the building 😵

The way Rosa says ‘let’s go home’ and home is his house,, my heart

04-11.

^ oh my god.

04-13.

Could someone cut this tension with a knife?? It’s getting too much for me

Artem looked that girl in the face and told her she has daddy issues 💀

And at the end of this chapter…scene 🎬. Anniversary confessions could just happen here—this is basically a confession already.

04-14.

^ this is crazy I’m ~uncomfy~

(Any notes I’m taking now are getting shorter and shorter bc I’m too invested in the story)

04-15.

This chapter can’t even be described in bullet points, so just read it for yourself and you’ll understand why I’m fangirling like an 11 yr old. They are both fully aware of each others’ feelings and acknowledge them without saying it plainly, which I feel is very fitting for them as characters. They’re savoring the feeling of liking someone and waiting for the perfect moment to let it out. Artem even told her “I’ll wait for you” in reference to a confession, which… If there was any reason I started his playlist with J’s Lullaby, it was this. The two of them may be slow-burning to the point of frustration, but hey, at least they realize there’s a flame here after such a long time.

I must mention though: Rosa stealing the book and Artem saying it belongs to a ‘friend’…perfection.

Anyway, this has been my obligatory brain vomit! Goodbye :o)

#tears of themis #tears of themis spoilers #tot spoilers #artem wing #tot artem

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