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streamafterlaughter · 1 year

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Fundamental Differing

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masterlist | playlist | chapter vii

Chapter VIII: It’s Enough To Startle Us

tags/warnings: brief descriptions of wounds, rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, slow burn, mutual pining, mutual heartbreak, angst (though this chapter is sufficiently less angsty. but i guess y’all deserve a break. but it’s not gone forever hehe)

summary: The events of the night before send Eddie into a panic, and you into even deeper confusion. lots of eddie’s pov in this one bc we love watching him writhe and suffer. This chapter is pretty short, but i think it’s necessary to break between this and when shit Goes Down soon. so stay tuned! feedback is always appreciated!

a/n: idk what happened but when i titled this fic i was so sure Schism by Tool had come out by 1992. Jokes on me, it didn’t until 2001, so we’re gonna ignore that (and not mention the song in the fic, even though it is the title. Bc i can’t change the title now! and i like it anyway! so there!) Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

—

April 1986

“Hey, hey. Easy now.” Eddie throws his arm over your shoulder for support as you help him sit up. “This is gonna sting, okay? But that’s because it’s working. We’re gonna make you feel better.”

“I know what’ll make me feel better.” Eddie’s words string together, a blissed out smile on his face. He’s on a lot of painkillers, making him far happier than he should be right now.

You give your boyfriend a sad smile. “That would make me happy, too. But the doctor said no strenuous activity for at least six weeks. We can’t prolong your healing process if you wanna walk at graduation. Arms up.”

He obliges, wincing as he raises his arms above his head. You take the hem of his shirt, gently pulling it up over his torso, revealing the stained and sticky bandages that cover his wounds. The sight hurts your heart, seeing the man you love in so much pain. You get to work undressing the wounds, careful to peel slowly as not to irritate the scabs underneath. Once he’s bare, Eddie looks down to see his scarred and serrated flesh, frowning at the gore. “Think these will scar?” He asks, going to poke one of his black and blue spots before you swat his hand away.

“Oh, I dunno, probably not too badly.” You dig around in your bag for the fresh gauze.

He frowns at your words. “If I’m gonna be impaired like this, the least I could get is some sick battle scars.”

You giggle at him, grateful he’s still himself even after such a traumatizing experience. “Okay fine. They’ll be the most gnarly, metal scars anyone’s ever seen.”

“That’s more like it.” Eddie looks up at you with glazed, sleepy eyes. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” You wet a piece of gauze with bacitracin.*

“For loving me. Takin’ care of me in my battered state. What’s a freak like me done to deserve such a beautiful companion?”

You blush at his words, knowing they ring true even through his fog. “You didn’t do anything. I just like ‘em freaky.” You lean in, and he meets you halfway connecting his lips to yours. “Now hold still, this is gonna suck.”

*a/n changed rubbing alcohol to bacitracin bc why tf would u use rubbing alcohol on healing wounds supposedly assessed by a doctor. it’s not like they’re dirty jfdkjccj anyway.. moving on

—

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

The sun streams in through the haphazardly drawn shades of his hotel room, rousing him from another uncomfortable sleep. Eddie groans, the pounding in his head increasing as he shifts to lie on his back. He’s still fully clothed, sans his boots, left with indents on his arms made by the denim of his vest. He tries, desperately, to recount the events of last night. I gambled, I lost, I came back here, I went to see… Oh no.

He shoots up in bed, regretting it immediately as the sharp pain in his head jabs him again. What the fuck did I say to them? He squeezes his eyes shut, begging his brain to let him remember. He only sees the look on your face, a pitying concern as you yank his shoes off, leaving him to fight the hangover the next day. He remembers mumbling to you as the door opened, one foot already in the hallway. Shit.

It’s probably the most honest he’s been with you in years, but he didn’t want it to happen that way. It isn’t fair, after you finally got everything you’ve ever wanted, to drop what probably was a huge bomb on you. He assumes it was, at least.

—

Your POV

Ugh. You rise from your bed, kicking the comforter off as you try to ignore the pounding in your head. Memories of last night flood back like a tidal wave, and you're helpless in stopping them. I'd still choose you. Eddie’s words repeat in your head like a broken record, a mantra you desperately want to believe even though you know you shouldn’t. You need to tell someone. You need to talk to Steve.

You caress the hotel phone between your ear and your shoulder, dialing Steve’s room number and tapping your socked foot on the carpet. Pick up, pick up, pick up. “Hello?” His voice is groggy, you must’ve woken him up.

“Rise an’ shine, buddy, I have drama I need to spill.” You rush the words out and Steve responds with a sigh.

“What happened? You get back okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Well, I'm not fine, that’s why I’m calling. But I got back okay.”

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” You can almost hear him place his hand on his hip.

“Eddie came to my room last night.” The line is silent. You hear Steve inhale sharply, but nothing else. “Earth to Steve?”

“Hey, yeah. Sorry, I feel like this is my fault.”

“How is Eddie drunkenly banging on my hotel room door your fault?”

“I may have told him to do it.”

“YOU WHAT?!” You can’t help but bellow the words, surprised by your best friend’s idiocy.

“I didn’t tell him to do that, but I keep telling him he needs to talk to you.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers, squeezing your eyes shut as Steve relays this news to you. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you two need to fix this shit! I’m tired of playing messenger when one of you gets drunk and sad and talks about the other for hours. You two need to start acting like adults!”

“Steve, who is asking you to play messenger? I’m asking you to play, I dunno, best friend? I never asked you to tell Eddie anything, I only need you to listen to me whine!”

“You ever think I’m tired of listening to you two whine?!”

You chew your bottom lip. “The thought may have crossed my mind. Whatever! He shouldn’t have come to my room drunk. He said some weird shit.”

It’s Steve’s turn to go meek. “What kind of weird shit?”

You debate whether to tell him, whether Steve really needs to know the gory details. You eventually decide he does, as your hired caretaker. “He pretty much told me, if I’d give him the chance, he’d drop everything. Be with me.”

Steve groans into the receiver, and it pulls a breathy laugh from your nervous throat. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“You think he meant it?”

“Has he ever lied to you?”

You take a second to answer. He’s hidden things from you, but he’s never outwardly lied. Eddie’s known for his blunt truthfulness, in fact, and it’s one thing you admire about him. “No, he’s never lied to me. Even while drunk.”

“Okay, then he’s probably not lying. The real question is if he remembers saying that.”

“Chances are he’ll act like he doesn’t, regardless.” Your eyes drift to the digital clock on the nightstand. “Shit, I gotta go. I promised everyone we’d get breakfast. Will you check on Eddie for me?”

“You could check on him?”

“Haha, good one! No, thanks.”

“Yeah, I’ll check on him. Take it easy on him if you do talk, though. You know as well as I do he hasn’t been doing well.”

“Yeah, I got it. Thanks, Stevie.”

“Of course, Y/n. See you later.”

“Bye.” The line clicks, and you hang up. Ugh!

—

You relay last night’s events to your bandmates and stylist at breakfast between sips of mimosas.

“He said that?!” Robin almost chokes on her pancake, causing Sylvie to snort orange juice through their nose. “And you just left?! Y/n!” Robin scarfs down another bite between sentences, eager to finish her thought.

“Honestly, I can’t believe Steve told him to talk to you!” Harley scoffs, her pretty eyes rolling. “Men are so dumb!”

You shrug. “I wish he’d just talk to me like a normal person. Only ever happens when he’s drunk, or I’m drunk, or some weird third party pisses one of us off enough.”

“Do you miss him?” Sylvie asks between nibbles of bacon.

You aren’t sure. Of course, you miss the people you were. You miss how real that love felt, how Eddie always felt like home. Until he got signed, a year out of high school, and let the fame eat at his heart slowly. “I don’t know.” You shake your head sadly.

“Maybe you two need, like, an intervention.” Lilith suggests, earning a baffled look from you in response. “What? You guys were in love, that’s super close to being addicted to something. And Eddie could probably use a real intervention, all the drinking he’s been doing.” She adds sadly, “Death and rock ‘n’ roll go hand in hand. I'd hate to see him end up like that.”

You think back to high school. To the Upside Down, and Eddie almost dying. For him to go through that and survive, only to be taken out by too much whiskey, would destroy you. You nod. “Maybe we do need an intervention. But isn’t part of the point for us to be surprised by it? What good will it do if I know?”

Lilith shrugs. “I'm not a doctor!”

It causes an eruption of laughter from your table.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Dude.” Steve whacks him on the arm as he sits down at the table. Hotel guests bustle around them, picking from stale muffins and cold eggs for their so-called continental breakfast.

“Ow! What?” Eddie’s nursing an orange juice, playing with the bacon on his plate that’s burnt and cold.

“I made sure you got to your room last night. I watched you go inside. When did you go see Y/n?”

“Steve, I know you’re used to being the babysitter, but I’m a grown man. I can go on a nightly excursion or two if I feel so inclined.” Eddie takes another sip of his juice as Steve pours himself some coffee.

“Okay, but those little side quests shouldn’t include embarrassing yourself, right?”

“Did they say I embarrassed myself?” He can’t help the worry that colors his tone.

Steve shakes his head. “No, I added that. But you know that isn’t what I meant when I said you should talk. That’s probably the last thing I meant.”

“Yeah, see, my drunk brain doesn’t really care what someone means versus what they tell me to do. You said talk, I talked. Nothing happened.”

“And you don’t know what you said?” Eddie shakes his head. “Do you want to?”

“I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

“Y/n told me you said you’d drop everything for them. If they’d give you that chance, you’d choose them over this. Over Corroded Coffin.”

Eddie suddenly feels like he’s underwater. He’s drowning, Steve’s voice sounding more muted as the seconds tick by. He only blinks at his friend, offering no hints of what he’s thinking. He knows he means the words, but knowing he’s said them aloud is a whole different game.

“Ed?”

“Hm?” Eddie drags his eyes away from the wall in front of him, slowly bringing his attention back to Steve.

“Did you mean that?”

He looks into his best friend’s eyes. They’ve grown tired, not with age but with increased proximity to terror and now, two very immature adults.

Eddie throws his hands up, waving them like a white flag of surrender. “Maybe I do! Does that mean it’s logical? That I should give up everything to be with them? I don’t know! They’ve done little more than put up with me so far, I can’t gauge the way they feel about me. I just know that I-“

“You love them. Yeah. That’s been established.”

Eddie drops his head into his hands and groans. It’s a sound of utter defeat, tinged maybe by a bit of acceptance. “What am I gonna do now?!”

It’s Steve’s turn to throw his hands up. “I’m staying out of this one.”

“Fine,” Eddie brings himself to his feet dramatically, somehow not toppling over as the room spins slightly. “Then I’ll ask someone I know can help me.”

—

Eddie finally finds her, sitting by the hotel pool with a thick book in her lap. Eddie steps up to where she’s lounging, her freckled skin damp from the moist air. She looks up at him, cupping her hand over her eyes to block the rays of sun escaping behind Eddie’s wild curls. “You’re blocking my light.”

“Hey, Bobby.” Eddie plops down on the plastic chair next to Robin, clasping his hands together as if to plead with her. “How’re things?”

Robin makes a show of snapping her book shut, angling her body to face Eddie. “What the hell do you want, Munson?”

Eddie feigns offense, clutching his chest with one hand, mouth agape like she’s told him Metallica don’t make good music anymore. “Why, it’s lovely to see you, too!” He scoffs, tossing his hair over his shoulder.

Robin doesn’t respond, her lips remain pursed as she waits for him to get to his point. It deflates Eddie, someone he was once so close with acting so coldly towards him. Though he supposes he should be used to the treatment by now. “I did a dumb thing.”

Robin lets out a laugh, but she lacks any trace of humor in her face. “On what planet would I want to help you cover your own stupid ass? We aren’t like that anymore, Ed. Get a grip.”

“Please, just listen to me. It’s about Y/n.” He recoils at his words, like saying them causes him pain. “I said something I shouldn’t have. I don’t know how they took it, I was drunk, it kinda just slipped out.” He rambles on, much to Robin’s amusement. It’s not every day Robin isn’t the one letting her tongue flap on its own. “Wait. Did they tell you?” He takes in her smug expression, the way her arms cross over her chest. “Oh my god, they told you.” He’s mortified, jumping back into the air like an exterior force has ejected him from his seat.

“They told me. Of course, they told me!” Robin stands up to meet Eddie’s eyes. “They aren’t the one who left me when they got signed.”

Eddie’s heart cracks at her words. You’re not the only one that feels he left them. “Well, hang on. That’s different, you and Y/n are in the band together. Why would they leave you?”

Robin sighs. “That’s not the point, dingus! You broke both our hearts when you got signed. We barely heard from you for months at a time, and when we saw you, you were mean! And god, don’t get me started on Steve.”

“What about Steve?” Eddie’s almost sure she’s fucking with him now, Steve has never actually liked him that much.

“Never mind. Why do you need my help? What’s done is done, right? You said the thing, they probably didn’t believe you anyway.”

“What did they say?”

Robin shakes her head. “That’s for me to know, and for you to hope they’ll trust you enough to clue you in.”

Eddie hugs his arms around himself, shielding his vital organs from Robin’s magazine of words hurtling toward him. Each one stings more than the last, but he powers through. “I wanna make it up to them. I want to be normal around them.”

“Try not drinking an entire bottle before you see them next time. Just hang out. Don’t play mind games with them. Be a fucking normal human.” She ticks the suggestions on her fingers. “You can’t make a grand gesture after two years of not seeing them. It will take time for them to trust you again. Especially with your later track record.”

Eddie huffs, trying to calm himself as Robin berates him. “Okay. Okay, you’re right. This will take time.”

“Don’t do it for their sake. They’re okay without you, y’know. I don’t wanna see them hurt like that again. So if you’re gonna try to be in their life, in our lives again, you better fucking mean it.”

Eddie nods so hard his head pounds. He means it, he swears he means it. Robin nods back, doubt still painted on her freckles. She doesn’t believe him.

“Rob?” She looks back into his eyes, and he can read the hurt in her expression. He’s been so caught up, living what he thought was the only dream he had. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

She scoffs, this time less convincingly. “‘Course ya are.” It takes everything in him not to wrap his arms around his estranged friend, muttering apologies until the sun sets. But he has other things to fix now, more amends to make.

—

Your POV

You’re smoking a joint in the dressing room of the club. The openers tonight are some Vegas locals, you forget what they’re called. Your friends are socializing somewhere backstage, waiting for the show runner to summon you to the stage. Usually you’d have joined them by now, but you’re marinating in Eddie’s words of last night, trying to find a hint of truth in them. You don’t know if there is any, if anything would convince you Eddie would choose you over his dream. You’d never asked him to, you never wanted him to have to choose. Being with him through it all was the point. But he chose to stop making you a priority the bigger Corroded Coffin got. The more attention he received from the public, the less you received from him.

Your eyes are closed, joint between your lips as My Drug Buddy plays quietly on your little radio when there’s a knock on the open door to the room. You mumble a “come in,” expecting Harley to touch up your makeup, or Steve to give you your pep talk.

“Hi.” His familiar voice sends a chill down your back, and your eyes shoot open. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame like an out of place mannequin.

“Hi.” You shift on the couch, sitting up and crossing your legs as if to look more awake than you feel. He doesn’t say anything else, and you’re not sure why he’s here, but you’re tired of walking on eggshells any time he’s in front of you. You offer the still lit joint in his direction, not moving so he’d have to walk to you to get it. “Smoke?”

He can’t resist, he pushes off the wall and walks toward you, plucking the burning herb from your fingers. “Mind if I sit?”

You shrug, scooching over slightly to make room for him. You watch as he inhales the smoke, closing his eyes as he fills his lungs. He’s already dressed for the show, his shirt a plain white tee he’s cropped so it sits just above his navel, and his jeans majorly ripped at each knee. Sylvie’s question rings through you again. Do you miss him? Based solely on this moment, his proximity to you, his knee daringly close to brushing yours, you think you have your answer.

Before you can ask, Eddie speaks again. “Look, about last night,” He pauses to ash the joint, bringing it to his lips once more. “I was wasted. That wasn’t fair to you, having to listen to all that. I didn’t mean for you to see me like that.”

He passes the joint back to you, and you inhale deeply before responding, tasting the remnants of his own mouth on the filter. “It’s okay, I get it. I know it’s hard being around me like this.” You look to the floor, trying to ignore the way your heart continues to bang in your chest.

He shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. I mean, of course it’s hard, seeing you again. But not because you left, not because anything you did hurt me. It’s just, being reminded of what could have been. What I did wrong.”

You look back into his eyes, and they’re misty, sparkling in the harsh lights of the room. He doesn’t blame you for leaving him? “Did you mean what you said? Last night?” You’re not sure what you want his answer to be.

He hesitates for a second. When he responds, it’s like he’s ripping the rug out from under you. “I think I did. I do, I mean. I do mean it. But that’s all hypothetical. I don’t expect you to trust me, I did a lot of things wrong when we broke up. But maybe we could just, I dunno, be friends? At least for the tour.” His smile is sad, but his words make your heart flutter. Friends. It’s more than you could ask for, all you’d wanted was civility, peace of mind. But “friends” sounds so hopeful, so promising.

You nod, plucking the joint from his fingers again. “I really, truly, would love that. Friends.”

He smiles again, this time an ear to ear, giant smile that you’d missed seeing.

“Hey, Y/n-“ Steve pauses in the doorway then, cutting himself off to take in the sight in front of him: You and Eddie smiling at each other, sitting so close you’re almost touching. “You uh, you guys okay?” You both nod, and for the first time you’re sure you mean it. “Alright, cool. Death Dance goes on in ten. See you out there.” You catch the knowing smirk Steve sends you, and you bite your lip in excitement, or embarrassment, you’re not sure. When Steve leaves, you chance another look at Eddie, who averts his eyes quickly to the couch space between you.

“I should finish getting ready.” You don’t want him to leave, you’re afraid to lose this mirage of calm with him.

He nods, bringing himself to his feet and offering his hand to help you out. You take it in yours, ignoring the chill that once again shoots through you. “Break a leg.” He says, still standing awkwardly close to you, unsure of what to do with himself. You nod, thanking him silently, and he turns on his heel and leaves you again, alone in the room with several confusing and contradicting thoughts.

—

chapter ix

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld @poisonedluv | send a message to be added🫶

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #gn!reader #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!reader #slow burn #angst #pining #miscommunications #tense friendship #forced proximity #stranger things fanfiction #90s au #strangerthingscentral #stranger things 4 #st4

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weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral · 6 months

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love that fall out boy has had a consistent lineup for 20 years. their secret? friendship

#and the homoeroticism #but literally everytime something Happens and they get tense with each they take a step back and just. work on it.#like the hiatus and the little break after mania etc etc.#they literally just Work Things Out and remain friends and have been friends consistently for 20 years #i hope i have friendships like them #fall out boy #fob #patrick stump #pete wentz #joe trohman #andy hurley

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sircolinmorgan · 10 months

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There’s not many’d take Morse in. He’d do the same for me. Would he? He’s a prickly bugger at the best of times, just how he is.

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13eyond13 · 11 months

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I think the moment Light's crush on L first smacked him in the manga (like when it finally rooted and started blooming in his guts) was when L was like "you're my first ever friend" whilst smirking into his teacup. And not because Light fully believed he was being sincere about being friends, but because he KNEW L was slyly teasing him and speaking to him on more than one level at once. Nothing more unexpected funny flattering and intriguing than that for him right then

#im thinking about this specifically because of that post about the girl getting a huge crush on her enemy that saved all her threats #bc that's basically that moment for light i think #light tries to squash all positive emotions towards others at all times when he's kira if they interfere with his plans after all #but if L does something like this to him then it forces him to think about his feelings in a strategic preparation sort of way #nay dare i say it basically is giving light permission to do so #he can now hold off on completely stamping out those feelings as soon as they arise #almost (he thinks) as a way to study his enemy and see how full of shit he may or may not actually be about such things #this moment probably starts a shift in light where he can allow himself to acknowledge that he maybe has a bit more than just #enemy feels for L you know #bc maybe L also is having other kinds of feels about him??#whether or not it's true it would impress him as a bold move #and kickstart him having to analyze what he actually does sincerely feel for L #and maybe start reframing and recontextualizing a lot of their tense ambiguous interactions up til that point secretly as well #heck we basically see him doing that when hes like lounging at his desk going HAH if it's friendship he wants then by god it's friendship #he will get #and this game of chicken with L about saying theyre friends keeps him from being able to completely avoid confronting #any complicated feels #like he otherwise probably would #because he legit cant back down from preparing for another battle of the wits with L #both because of his competitive pride and his genuine need to protect himself #would he call it a crush to himself yet #no probably not #i feel like that came later much later #he def would have acknowledged it as such by the end of the story tho #essentially L found a way to create a little wedge to ram in the door to Light's feels #and that is a smart enough move to probably have made Light start developing a crush on him even if he didn't have one already #l lawliet #light yagami #lawlight #p

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moongothic · 3 months

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Do wanna say, I am actually really curious how Iva-chan would feel if the Dragodile Divorce went REAL BAD

'Cause they didn't know the two were in a relationship at all, right. (Otherwise, like, if Iva-chan knows about Crocodile having a kid then surely they'd realize that would've also been Dragon's kid and like. Understands that's Luffy etc) So as far as Iva-chan understands the situation, Crocodile may have been secretly slightly involved with the Revolutionaries for a period of time, had a kid out of the blue, transitioned, and either immidiately broke ties with the Revs entirely and fucked off to Alabasta, or kept on assisting the Revs in secret (possibly monetarily, being a sugar daddy and all 💰🐊💰) for however long in secret, only to pretty much betray them out of nowhere by attempting to take over Alabasta 17 years later Either way, surely Ivankov would've been deeply confused by this turn of events, right? Like what happened to him, why would Crocodile do any of this?

But if the straw that broke the camel's back and shattered Crocodile's psyche was the Dragodile Divorce going really bad, either from Dragon not being that accepting OR due to things going violent over a miscommunication... How would Ivankov feel about that?

Keep in mind, we've only ever heard Iva-chan talk about Dragon with nothing but adoration and respect. They sincerely hold Dragon in such high regard, can you imagine how badly either revelation could change how Iva-chan's views Dragon? 'Cause like, sure if Dragon's straight then that's one thing, but lashing out at his loved one? When he came out? At what might've been the most emotionally vunerable time of Crocodile's life (between the transing and the baby and having to leave his son forever. Y'know. Heavy shit)? Yeah, frankly speaking, Iva-chan would be completely justified in slapping the shit out of Dragon and giving him some choise words. Perhaps even some 💉 Karmic Punishment 💉 to teach a lesson Feeling disappointed in Dragon would be an understatement. But even if The Divorce happened due to a tragic accident (of Dragon attacking the strange man he has never seen before out of instinct when going to see his wife and child), it's been nearly two whole decades. Have the two even spoken since then? Like presumably not considdering Crocodile didn't even know who Luffy was. So if they haven't spoken at all-- did Dragon ever apologize? Or was he that much of a coward he couldn't face Croc and take responsibility for what he did? If so, that is absolutely pathetic and frankly irresponsible considdering the feelings he would've left Crocodile festering with.

Like either way, I'm deeply facinated how Iva-chan would take the news. How that could impact their relationship with Dragon, as well as how they've viewed Crocoboy for the past few years as well.

Because suddenly Crocoboy didn't just go bonkers out of nowhere, abandon and betray the Revolutionaries to try to do something monstrous for selfish gain. Suddenly, it was Dragon who abandoned Crocodile and left him all alone for nearly two decades, believing obtaining an Ancient Weapon was the only way to take down the World Government. Countless innocent lives that perhaps could've been spared in Alabasta had Dragon just fucking talked to his ex--

Yeah. I'm curious how Iva-chan would feel

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Sorry my brain is soup I can't form a coherent thought rn #Something about the mental image of Iva-chan getting fucking furious at Dragon on Crocodile's behalf #Just #I'm not crying shut up #Like if there is a scenario where Dragon genuinely needs to apologize to Crocodile for however the hell he fucked up #I think Iva-chan taking Crocodile's side and telling Dragon that he fucked up and needs to take responsibility would be like. Important #'Cause I think Iva-chan might be the only person in the world who could get Dragon to apologize (considdering how long they've been friends #Especially because Iva-chan might be the person who genuinely understands Crocodile's feelings the best #(Depending on how his egg got cracked and whether or not Iva-chan needed to help with that etc etc)#All of this to say; the Dragodile Divorce really would be more interesting if it went Real Bad. It would impact so many more characters #Another familiar question: What would Kuma have thought of it? How about Sabo and Koala?#But yes Iva-chan's reaction is the one I'd be the most interested in. Especially considdering like. IDK I kind of thought they'd have...#...a bigger role in Kuma's backstory but they actually kind of didn't. Like their friendship was not that important in the end #And a part of me deeply feels like Iva-chan should have a bigger role somehow in the story. Like they should impact things more #And yes if Crocodad Real then that alone would add to Iva-chan's role a whole bunch. But that would be like in past tense.#How about how things are going to go down from here on out? Yeah

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t4tliquidmantis · 2 months

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I’m a Baron [from the baronies] supporter forever. They’re just chillin

#jknah tambles #baron from the baronies #‘theyre a representation of amatonormative pressure that riz feels’ YA AND THEY WERE CREATED SOLEY TO BE A ROMANTIC PARTNER #they Also are subjected to the horrors #i think that it and riz should form a tense but eventually comfortable (albeit strange-looking) friendship #btw if u rb this dont use he/him for baron or ill beam blast u

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daisyachain · 5 months

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Restorative or Transformative?: Homoerotic Subtext, The Closet, and Ciphers in Pop Culture. The nature of commercial art is that it’s sometimes bad and inconsistent. Notably it’s also misogynistic. One way in which audiences try to reconcile massive plot holes or gaps in character motivation is by reading secrets or hidden information into a plot.

Commonly, male characters are interpreted as closeted gay or bisexual to reconcile the absence of women from commercial narratives with the generally stunted and poorly-written male characters that form the focus on said texts. This reading has become especially common among a non-heterosexual milieu. Rather than transforming the original text into some radically different new form, this closeted interpretation seeks to make the original text stand on its own as a story rather than a Swiss cheese of dumb writing decisions.

This interpretation only works for a specific type of pop, usually genre fiction. Any story in which tortured male leads eschew women in favour of male-male bonds (because female characters are constantly killed off, written sparsely, or written out, because the production team keeps casting their male buddies, because actors demand to keep having scenes with their bros, whatever) can become a sounder structure if you put one of them in a closet.

The gay interpretation is the natural consequence of shoddy misogynistic writing from ventures like Supernatural, Naruto, all the biggest hits. It’s also the natural consequence of more benignly misogynistic writing like The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes or The Lord of the Rings, where women aren’t necessarily rejected but are simply absent from the worlds of the protagonists. When the emotional crux of the story falls on male-male interactions, this reads as romantic because society at large priorities (definitively heterosexual) romance as the pinnacle of human connection. Two forces are in conflict, the primacy of heterosexuality (read as: romance) and the primacy of men.

Anyway. All that is to say that the typical gay or bisexual reading of male characters in pop fiction comes from a very real place. But, in some places, that’s the default interpretation. Angst, insecurity, secrets, double lives, fatigue, disappointment, restrained passion, stunted personal growth, anyone living in the closet can tell you that it impacts and defines your whole life to know that you live in a way fundamentally incompatible with The Proper Way that life is structured around down to tax law and superstore prices (which assume a heterosexual nuclear family unit). Characters in fiction also tend to have personal problems because that makes them interesting and tasty.

If you’ve grown up on stories with the specific type of misogyny that can be papered over with a closeted interpretation of the male leads, carrying this interpretation over to any male character will make sense more often than not. Even a bit of angst or insecurity? Well of course that makes sense if a character is closeted.

Except that’s hurt a normal part of fiction, and sometimes the closeted interpretation takes away from the point of a character. If a male character is on another axis of marginalization, the closeted interpretation imposed by the slash reading community downplays or trivializes the effects of that marginalization in the plot by overwriting it with another type of marginalization. Alternately, sometimes a character’s heterosexuality is a part of the story. There are some sorts of critiques or investigations of misogyny or masculinity that don’t work if the character has an ‘opt out’ of the cisheteropatriarchal perspective. Not that gay/bisexual men aren’t except from misogyny, but misogyny masculinity and heterosexuality are so tightly linked that it sort of defeats the point if you interpret that character outside of heterosexuality.

All that is to say—the closet interpretation is a quick and easy spice to apply to the weaker parts of action-adventure genre fiction to make it taste better. It draws from a large enough sample of art that it’s pretty widely applicable. Because of that, it’s part of some people’s [my] default interpretation package just because the semi-dull macho show at least gets less dull if you imagine there’s a reason for there to be no girls besides simple hatred. That then forms its own problem where the interpretation that works with your average genre work gets then blanket-applied to all genre works and obscures the places where the closet interpretation doesn’t fix the work, and actually makes it less interesting.

#kelsey rambles #I’m as guilty of it as anyone.#just thinking about Johnny Storm and like. bisexual ass character. deeply bi guy. but.#what IF he’s just heterosexual. what then. wouldn’t that almost be…more interesting #if he’s Like That and not closeted? what twisty gnarled psychological torments would a good comic have to explain him #and on the other hand. that one post I saw about how miles/hobie totally misses the point that their relationship is about solidarity #spider-punk and spider-byte’s alliance with miles are the same thing and to read it as romantic erases the important part #and on a third hand. when speaking of miles’ story. the stupid fucked Bendis running joke/subtext with Ganke #to have Miles be gay would possibly take away from the messy and interesting part of his character that is being a person with nothing #to hide. a totally honest genuine straightforward kid who is forced to start a double life by an outside actor #but at the same time it’s dumb and a cop-out to throw in that much bait and that much of a genuinely charged tense friendship #and then go ‘lol jk. nothing to see here’#the other thing is the semi joke in atsv about ‘coming out’ as spider-man #the most important thing about Miles having to hide is his relatively precarious position as a black kid. he’s not afforded the leniency #that Peter Parker would expect if he got unmasked. Miles is more cautious because he is in more danger because he’s Black #so to paint that struggle with the gay brush is to disregard the character’s raison d’être. while also #using that sort of language and structure deliberately puts a gay lens over that character and ignoring that or kicking it to the side #feels a bit cheap. to borrow the look and not the substance #way too many tags and it’s past my bedtime. thesis statement is:#miles morales is a character whose history is fraught with plenty of real gay subtext and whose character struggles are entirely divorced #from any sense of gender performance. he’s subtextually bi but that’s got so little to do with his story that it feels almost wrong to read #that into him because there is so much other interesting stuff going on with him

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even-disco-baby · 2 years

Note

Suggestion/request if you need any, maybe Kim and Jean talking after Kim joins Precinct 41?

PERCEPTION (Hearing) [Medium: Success] — Wait. You can hear voices just outside the window. Familiar voices. If you concentrate, you can just make out what they’re saying through the pitifully thin glass.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “…smoke Drouins, too?”

KIM KITSURAGI — “I’m giving them a try.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Oh, *hell* yeah. You should go join them for a smoke.

SUGGESTION — Or… hang around by the window for a minute or two first.

YOU — What? Why?

SUGGESTION — Oh, come on, Harry. Aren’t you a *little* curious about what those two talk about when you’re not around?

INLAND EMPIRE — You don’t want to know. Don’t even think about it. Lock that thought away with her letter and anything else that might hurt you.

YOU — Isn’t it wrong to eavesdrop?

SUGGESTION — You’re not eavesdropping, you’re just getting a breath of fresh air by the window! It’s not *your* fault that your two closest friends also just so happened to be having a smoke right outside the same window. The precinct is public property, anyway. If this was a private conversation, wouldn’t they have it on *private* property?

ENCYCLOPEDIA — I think you’re confusing private ownership with privacy.

SUGGESTION — Oh, look, a new copotype. Grammar Cop.

They’re my friends, so I should respect their privacy. (Step away from the window)

They’re my friends, so they wouldn’t be talking about anything they wouldn’t talk to *me* about, right? (Eavesdrop)

INLAND EMPIRE — You’re too trusting. So are they, it seems. You’re going to be the death of each other, someday.

PERCEPTION (Hearing) [Easy: Success] — You casually lean against the wall beside the window, sipping water from the cooler and listening to the muffled voices outside.

KIM KITSURAGI — “…late nights?”

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “Everyone here works late. I’m sure you’ve noticed. But Jude and Trant have kids to look after…”

EMPATHY — He’s got nobody. That’s something you and he have always had in common.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “This late, it’s usually just me and Harry.” He pauses, perhaps to take a drag from his cigarette. “…And you?” He asks more than says it.

KIM KITSURAGI — “And me.” His voice is flat and quiet.

EMPATHY — He’s got nobody, too.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — Another long pause. You can see Jean’s hand suddenly come into view through the glass.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — Don’t panic! He’s just flicking the ash from his cigarette. See, it’s fine. If you’d flinched, they might have seen you.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “How’s the Drouin?”

KIM KITSURAGI — “Not bad. I might make the switch.”

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “Ha. I like them better than Astras, but most people disagree.”

KIM KITSURAGI — He gives a noncommittal sort of hum, nothing more.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “Any reason for the switch?”

KIM KITSURAGI — “Just wanted to try something new,” he says lightly.

DRAMA — A lie if I ever heard one, sire.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — Astras remind him of Martinaise. Of loneliness. Smokers on rooftops and balconies and in traffic jams. A corpse on the boardwalk. A corpse that could have been *you.*

-1 MORALE

INLAND EMPIRE — I told you not to listen.

SUGGESTION — No, no, surely if you listen long enough, you’ll hear something *good* about yourself.

Walk away.

Keep listening.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “…Can I ask you an unprofessional question?”

KIM KITSURAGI — He hesitates, just briefly. “I suppose.”

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “Why the hell did you agree to transfer here? I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’re glad to have you.” A pause. “Well, more like we were totally fucked without you.” Another pause. “Okay, we’re still fucked, just less fucked. But you could have stayed at the harbor and *not* been fucked.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — If only there was as much fucking going on around here as he makes it sound.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Hm… I suppose I could have.” He pauses for a smoke. “But I think that the 41st will be… more important in the grand scheme of things than the G.R.I.H.”

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — “UN JOUR SERAI DE RETOUR PRÈS DE TOI.” Whatever is coming, he feels it’s going to come here first.

KIM KITSURAGI — “And like I said, I’ve been wanting to try something new.” You can almost hear the smile in those words.

DRAMA — But they are still not entirely truthful. Oh, he *does* long for something new. That part was the truth, sire. But he won’t find it here. Deep down, he knows it. And there you find the lie he tells himself over and over again, every day he reports for duty.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — “Nulla sarà cambiato della luce.” Nothing will be changed about the light. Nothing will ever be changed…

PERCEPTION (Hearing) — Silence falls, so lengthy that you almost think that they must have finished their cigarettes and started their way back. And then—

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “I thought maybe it had something to do with the shitkid.”

COMPOSURE — To call the following silence “loaded” would be a massive understatement.

YOU — Oh… I don’t know if I want to hear this…

INLAND EMPIRE — Leave now. Please, just leave.

SUGGESTION — Stay! They care about you, that’s what they’re going to say!

INLAND EMPIRE — That’s what makes it all so sad.

Spare yourself.

Stay.

KIM KITSURAGI — “…And if it did?” His voice is calm, like deep, still water.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “Then I was going to warn you not to bet everything on a losing dog.” His voice is calm, too. That’s what hurts the most. “You haven’t known Harry long enough to see the pendulum swing the other way. And it *will* swing, Lieutenant. It’ll happen right when you start to think that maybe it won’t. And then things will get uglier than you ever thought possible.”

DRAMA — …He isn’t lying, sire. Nor is he trying to intimidate the lieutenant. He believes every word he’s saying.

YOU — Wait, so then… then it’s true? All the progress I’ve made… is it worthless?

INLAND EMPIRE — Nulla sará cambiato…

VOLITION — No. He’s waiting for the past to repeat itself. But it doesn’t have to, Harry. At least, not always in the same way. Don’t lose hope.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “…I’m not trying to be cruel.” His voice suddenly softens. Saddens. “I just don’t want you to end up with regrets. There’s no fixing that guy, Kim. People have tried.”

EMPATHY — *He* has tried. And for his troubles, he’s had all sorts of cruelties hurled at him. Humiliation, abuse, betrayal. Broken promise after broken promise. He’s almost exhausted any hope he ever had.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — Almost, but not quite. That’s what hurts him the most.

-1 MORALE

INLAND EMPIRE — You’ll die at this rate.

VOLITION — Why are you doing this to yourself? Their words are not ironclad truth. You don’t need their permission to live. And you *definitely* don’t need to hurt yourself like this.

SUGGESTION — It doesn’t matter. You don’t have a choice anymore. You *need* to hear this.

Stay.

KIM KITSURAGI — An uncomfortable shuffle of nylon can be heard, even through the window. “…I appreciate your concern,” he says stiffly. And that’s *all* he says.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — He knows he doesn’t sound like he means it, but he does. And he also knows that Vicquemare will be embarrassed, maybe even hurt, by the curt response. But he can’t think of a single word to say.

EMPATHY — It’s hard for him to face people head on like this. It’s easier when he has something to hide behind. Like you and your antics.

PERCEPTION (Hearing) — A long sigh. You’re not sure whose it is.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — And then you see Jean’s hand toss his cigarette butt into the grass. “Well, who knows? Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’re some kind of miracle worker. I mean, two of you apparently *attract* miracles. You know, with your pheromones.”

KIM KITSURAGI — “He wasn’t talking about *our*… khm. Actually, never mind. Let’s not start the cryptid thing again.”

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “Yeah, let’s not.” He sounds a little gruff as he says it.

EMPATHY — He is sad that no miracle ever happened for him, and angry that it came for someone else at all. But most of all, it hurts him that your miracle was someone else.

YOU — I’m sorry for forgetting…

EMPATHY — Forgetting what?

The things he did for me.

The things I did to him.

Why I am the way I am.

All of it.

EMPATHY — He can’t hear you, Harry.

VOLITION — There’s no point in being sorry for how everything played out. Your relationships with them, your sobriety, the case, the Insulindian miracle— all of it is as much a product of circumstance as anything else. A matter of who was in the right place at the right time. All you can do now is choose what to do with what came of it.

That is why they’ve run out of things to say now. They are sad and uncertain, but they have chosen to carry that. What do you choose?

To tell them I don’t need their fucking pity.

To be sorry all the same.

To distance them from me before the pendulum swings.

To make sure they never leave me alone to die.

I don’t know. I want to do what’s right, but I don’t know what that looks like.

VOLITION — None of us really do, Harry. Just do your best.

KIM KITSURAGI — “…I’m not trying to fix him.” His words come out clunky and awkward. Sudden, as if he said them against his better judgment.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “Uh huh.” He sounds doubtful.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant clears his throat. “That is to say… I believe he can get better. He *is* getting better. But I don’t think… Well, let’s call it a… a chronic problem.” He clears his throat again, clearly uncomfortable.

EMPATHY — It’s hard for him to say that he doesn’t think you’ll ever put it all behind you. It makes him feel callous.

KIM KITSURAGI — “But… I think that’s all right. We all have things we simply have to learn to live with. But we do live with them. And I think he’s getting better at living with… with everything,” he finishes, trying to put it as delicately as possible. “That is all I can ask of him.”

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — Maybe someday, he’ll tell you and Jean about all the things he has learned to live with, and the times when he very nearly didn’t. But not today.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — You hear the click of a lighter. Another cigarette. “…I see. Well, if he’s made any progress, he probably owes it to you.” He makes a valiant effort to conceal the bitterness in his voice.

KIM KITSURAGI — “No,” he says quietly, “I don’t think so. I think… Well, it doesn’t really matter what I think.”

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — A freshly cleaned room. A little girl come in from the cold. A handkerchief pressed into the hands of a working class woman. A wall with the words “I LOVE YOU CUNO” painted in giant red letters. Dancing ecstatically around a hole in the world. He remembers it all, but he is at a loss for the words to explain the true miracle of it all. He wishes that Jean could have seen it and understood.

YOU — So do I…

#disco elysium #jean vicquemare #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #requests #anon #THANK YOU FOR THIS ONE I RLLY ENJOYED IT…#jean and kim are so. interesting.#since kim is smth of a wish fulfillment fantasy for the suicidal #and jean is like… well more like the nightmare scenario ksbsjdnc of someone who you’ve managed to push to the breaking point #but who still cares about you and that’s the most painful part #so i imagine jean and kim’s dynamic to be a little tense w a slight resentment from each of them #where kim dislikes how vitriolic jean can be but also understands where it’s coming from and even feels a little guilty abt the situation #and jean is legit hurt that his friendship w harry (sort of) withstood so many years of harry being an asshole #but didn’t seem to make any difference to harry #and then in walks kim who’s just Some Guy and suddenly harry is cleaning himself up for him #but he knows that’s not fair and he genuinely likes kim so he’s just like. *miserably befriends you*#and then on top of that the case in martinaise is starting to crack through kim’s resignation to being a cop #but jean is so… well idk if anything will ever get through his resignation tbh.#‘’there is nothing more in that beloved future of yours. we are all done there. done and gone.’’#so yeah. lots of tension between them and lots of thoughts that kim can’t bring himself to share w jean which only makes the tension worse

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