#but I stg people used to not be this stupid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Women make up for the other 50% of Tumblr’s audience.

#but I stg people used to not be this stupid

moth-bells · 5 months

Text

Sometimes I wanna bash my head through a wall when I see ppl look at a game that is screaming 'hey!!! this shit if fucked up!!! Everyone here is bad!!!' and then go 'omg this is disgusting how could the creator condone this and romanticize it!!! If you like this game youre just as disgusting as it!!' Like please. Im begging. Media literacy.

#benji rambles #I wont even mention it by name #bc this can apply to a lot of things #Just because bad things are portrayed doesnt mean its being romanticized #especially if the character you follow is unreliable #I feel like an old man sometimes #but I stg people used to not be this stupid #or the stupid people are a helluva lot louder now #okay sorry rant over

33 notes · View notes

dteamain · 1 year

Text

i know how to bring back 5/5 dtkq. we just slowly start calling them feral boys again. just start to occasionally name drop feral boys everyone will slowly start using it again and the boys will want to come back.

#i stg the day they couldn't use feral boys is the day they died #and we need to bring them back #and we all know how stupid it was for people to be mad at that name #pls let's bring it back

9 notes · View notes

skeletonologist · 2 years

Text

Theres this ad for one of those soulless app games here on good ole tumblr mobile where this girl is repeatedly trying to impress some cartoon dude and in EVERY video she has to shave her legs as an INTEGRAL part of dressing up but you know what???

No!!!!!!

Women can have hairy legs. Women can be as fuzzy as they freaking want. If men can walk around literally coated like a chimpanzee then women can too

I havent shaved in over three years because its a LOT of work!! Do you know how long it takes to shave?? Like a whole hour. Every week. Im not wasting that time shaving hair off my own body for public approval. And the back pain?? My back SUCKS. Plus! Accidentally cutting yourself?? No!! im not hurting myself for social stigma

The whole "WOMEN ARE DIRTY IF THEY DONT SHAVE" is GARBAGE, do people think we dont wash our legs too is that it, do you think the leg hairs gonna smell, do you think leg hair has a soap repellent, soap is afraid of hairy legs. Are you scared of my silky soft insulated legs huh. Be quiet

Now if you want to shave or like shaving, awesome for you! You have every right to do whatever you want and feel comfortable and look however you want! But I dont. Its expensive, frankly, and a waste of time in my extremely loud opinion

#sindy screams #this post INCLUDES trans people and people who use feminine pronouns DO NOT reblog with stupid terf rhetoric i stg #not that i expect this to take off but #idk it made me mad #vent #delete later #maybe

14 notes · View notes

marvelsswansong · 2 years

Text

you made me hate this city

summary: It was just a stupid bet. A way to prove Jason and his asshole friends wrong, to finally get under the blonde's skin. It was never supposed to end with Eddie falling in love, nor with him laying on your doorstep with bruised knees, begging for your forgiveness.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, ice queen/social outcast reader, Hopper!reader (goddaughter), reader is 18+ (impli. twenties), fluff, humor, angst, happy ending tho ofc

☆ word count: 17K+ (i stg it's worth it) ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Winters in Hawkins were unbearable.

Eddie's fingers - dry skin cracking by his knuckles, pink lines marred by green veins poking out of his skin - shakily held up the lit joint to his chapped lips, allowing him to inhale deeply and let out a slow drag of smoke. Much like his muted breaths, the white whisps of air curled upwards in lazy swirls before dissipating into the night air, providing a momentary release from the cold.

The freezing temperatures embraced Eddie just as quickly afterwards, making him grumble in discomfort, swearing under his breath for how long Jason and his group of friends were taking to finish the damn basketball game. The heat provided from his van was rather weak - the heater having blown a fuse a week ago which he had yet to fix - and his jean jacket did little to provide any additional warmth as he grasped the lapels of the jacket and pulled it closer towards his body.

God, where were those assholes?

As if fate had been listening to his internal monologue, Eddie soon heard the crunching of snow beneath several pairs of feet accompanied by the recognizable rowdy chatter between the basketball players. Leading the group as usual was Jason Carver - the blonde's signature smug expression replaced by one of annoyance - followed by his two best friends, a brunette and a redhead who were practical carbon copies of each other (muscular airheads with big egos and loud voices). Not that Eddie could really distinguish between the basketball players at Hawkins High. They all tended to come from the same pool of people.

Tall, fit, conventionally attractive, white males from cushy upper class backgrounds.

Unfortunately, that also meant jocks were one of his most profitable clients. Hence why Eddie had dragged his van and stash of goods half-way across town during winter break in the freezing cold. Having waited a staggering twenty minutes with nothing more than a jean jacket to keep him company, he was simply looking forward to finalizing the deal and to be able to drive back home to fall underneath the covers.

"You got the goods, freak?" Nate, the tall brunette, yelled out in advance, clapping his meaty hands together. Eddie had to actively suppress an eyeroll - no matter how many times he regularly dealt with them, they'd never even gone so far as to call him by his real name. Wordlessly kicking open the back of his van, he pulled off the green tarp overlaying the interior to reveal a hefty amount of weed, neatly packaged in plastic containers and paper bags.

"What'd you want?" the metalhead asked, voice monotone and face straight - completely immune to their presence at this point. The transaction was, after all, a regular routine at this point so as to make Eddie's reactions automatic and reflexive. He just wanted to get this over with as quickly as he could.

The basketball player standing next to Nate, a slim redhead named Oliver, cut into the conversation whilst brushing falling snowflakes off of his varsity jacket with a frown.

"Give us everything, son of satan."

"Everything?" Eddie raised his eyebrows, unable to hide his surprise. Jason only clicked his tongue at that, left hand coming up to swiftly comb through his hair - the blonde was on edge, that was as clear as daylight to see.

"Yeah, jackass, just give us what you got. I'm throwing a massive party and my parents are in California for another two weeks so I need all you got."

"That'll be $1,500." Eddie slowly said, eyeing the blonde up and down, expecting the man to pull out of the deal at any moment. Instead, the jock only let out an exasperated sigh, dropping his duffel bag to the floor before digging out a wad of cash.

"That's a shit ton of money you're blowing on weed, Carver." Oliver commented, slapping his friend's shoulder.

"Not enough money to impress (Y/n) though, apparently." Nate added from the side, causing both him and Oliver to crack up at the expense of a fuming Jason, the blonde's fists clenching tightly by his sides.

"Fuck off, would you?" the blonde shrugged his friend's arm off of his shoulders quickly, eyes burning with annoyance and betrayal. Eddie knew he wasn't supposed to be listening in on their conversation, his brown eyes still focused on the stack of notes in his hands as his fingers combed through each bill one by one. But his ears perked up at the mention of your name and he couldn't help but listen in closer as Jason's teammates laughed even harder at their leader's expression of fury.

"I'm telling you. Your daddy's money and status may get you everything you want, but not even you can win over the ice queen of Hawkins High." Nate drawled, with Oliver nodding eagerly behind him.

Jason only rolled his shoulders forward at that, unclenching his jaw with a frustrated sigh.

"Well how the fuck was I supposed to know that she was going to throw her drink on me and call me a 'blonde bimbo in ugly basketball shorts' just cause I asked her out?"

The chuckle that escaped from Eddie's lips was dangerous, but he couldn't help but let out a short laugh at the recollection of your comment, subjecting himself immediately to the harsh gazes of the three jocks. Jason in particular looked offended at that, cracking his knuckles and flashing the metalhead a stinging glare.

"You think that's funny, Munson?"

Counting up to the last thousand - damn, Jason really had handed him $1,500 on the dot - Eddie looked up at Jason with a sly smile, shaking his head lightly side to side.

"Meh, just a little. Doesn't matter though. You got the cash, I got the weed." he replied before stepping to the side, signaling for Nate and Oliver to begin shoving the packets of weed into their duffel bags. Whilst they did so, Jason slowly walked forward towards Eddie, an egotistical swagger to his steps.

"What? You think you can do better, freak?

"Asking girls out? Eh, maybe." Eddie decided to goad the blonde further, enjoying the delicious cruelty of being able to toy with the fragile ego of the star basketball player. Watching how Jason's neck strained at that comment, adam's apple bopping up and down.

Suddenly, the angry expression on Jason's face melted away into a wide grin, a new delightful idea seemingly having popped into his mind.

"Tell you what, freak. Let's wager a bet." Jason's tongue dragged across his lower lips slowly, his eyes were glinting with a certain kind of danger Eddie couldn't quite place. "You think you're such tough shit, that you're so much better than me - why don't you go after (Y/n)? If you can somehow get the infamous ice queen to say yes to a date, you win."

"And what exactly would I win?"

"I'll pay double the usual for all our dealings. Heard through the grapevine your shitty trailer home's overdue for a fix, no?"

Oliver and Nate cackled behind Jason at that comment, igniting fiery hatred in the metalhead's veins. Jaw feeling stiff, he forced himself to sit up straight, staring right back at the jocks.

"... That, and you leave me and my friends alone for the rest of the year."

"For that price, you'll have to have her say yes to prom too!" Oliver yelled out from the side, to which Jason nodded.

"Get her to say yes to dates and then prom, and then we'll say you win. I pay double, you can fix your shitty dump you call a house, and we'll stop bothering you and your band of freaks. Deal?"

It was no different to staring the devil in the face, devious and cruel smirk matched with voice dripping with venom as the blonde extended one hand forward. Eddie stared at it for a few seconds, contemplating his decisions: his uncle had tried to be sly about money problems but winter was only getting colder, and now that he had Dustin, Lucas and Mike in the group, he did want the bullying to stop against his group.

Swallowing his doubts, Eddie quickly shook Jason's hand, never once breaking eye contact.

"Deal."

-------------------------------------

First week back from winter break.

Eddie has been agonizing over how to even approach you. He's only spoken to you once before.

Actually, that may be an overstatement, he thinks, now looking back.

Eddie was being blocked from accessing his locker as a group of cheerleaders gossiped in the hallways, each of them blatantly ignoring Eddie's quiet pleas for them to move. When he coughed loudly and tried to wiggle through the crowd, the two head cheerleaders by the front shot him a nasty glare, the blonde one even going so far as to look him up and down and smirk.

"Thought I smelled trailer trash. Piss off, freak."

"I'm just trying to get to my locker, Joanne." he'd deadpanned - normally, he would've just walked away by now but he really needed to get to his fucking locker for that damn history textbook.

"Well we're too busy catching up about the rager Dianne went to last week in Idaho, so you can wait, okay?" the other head cheerleader, a petite raven haired girl named Sandra, snapped. That elicited a crowd of giggles to erupt amongst the group, and Eddie sighed again, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

"Look-"

"Didn't know this was the hangout spot for superficial barbies skipping their geometry classes." you sneered, coy smirk dancing on your glossy lips. The group of girls instantly froze at the sound of your voice, causing even the two head cheerleaders by Eddie to straighten up in fear.

"What'd you want, (L/n)?" Joanne stuttered out, the low pink flush in her cheeks clearly marking her embarrassment and fear. Eddie watched in awe as you simply stared the cheerleader down, dissecting the girl's layers with one glare and a low chuckle under your breath.

"For you and your fake friends to leave, obviously. What, too dumb to even figure that out?"

"Y-you can't make us leave! You have no authority to command so." Sandra blurted out, eyes darting away to the floor when you redirected your fiery gaze at her. Eddie had to admit, you were kind of terrifying - sharp eyes drawn forward, head held high, fingers gripping tightly onto the straps of your backpack.

"Is that so?" you questioned, stepping one step closer to the crowd of cheerleaders, all of whom instinctively backed up against the wall. Pink tongue tracing your lower lips, you cocked your head to the side in feigned interest. "I guess you only ever listen to the authority of Joanne's boyfriend, huh, Sandra? When he's leaving hickies on your neck and blowing off dinners with Joanne for you?"

"You did what?!" Joanne screamed out in anger at her best friend, causing Sandra to begin running in the opposite direction. Sensing a battle brewing between their two leaders, the rest of the cheerleaders deserted the hallway, leaving you and Eddie alone in the aftermath. You rolled your eyes, shoving away the last cheerleader evacuating the scene before Eddie's left hand reached out to grab your wrist.

"W-wait." he stuttered out, hesitant. You looked down at his hand with a cold glare, before staring back up at him in annoyance.

"What."

"Thank you for standing up for me. I mean, no one's ever talked back to the popular kids for me before. It's really cool of you." he rambled, hands fidgeting by his neck, not being able to quite meet your gaze upon feeling chills run down his spine at your icy demeanor. Your only response to his comment was to aggressively shake off his hand, recoiling from his touch as if you'd been burnt.

"I wasn't doing any of that for you, Munson. They were in the way to my Chemistry class."

Turning on your heel, you disappeared into the foreground before Eddie could muster up a response.

The rumors were true, he realized. You were exceptionally beautiful - it was no wonder that you were rumored to be scouted by the cheerleaders by third period on your first day (had you not literally dumped an iced coffee over their leader when she'd approached you during lunch). Even when you were snarling at him, arms crossed in a defensive posture and chilling orbs glaring daggers into his eyes, he couldn't help but feel warmth rise to his cheeks from being able to gaze at your face up close.

But Eddie wasn't able to focus on your features much - the dip of your neck leading down to the valley of your breasts, your glossy lips and bright eyes, jaw and cheeks carved by the harsh sunlight - when you'd snapped at him and turned the other way.

Staring down at his now empty hands, he shrugged. You were indeed, an ice queen.

Cut to the present, Eddie's hiding behind the door of his own locker, peeking out at the hallway every few seconds to watch you shuffle through your own belongings. Headphones around your ears, Walkman tape bouncing alongside your side as you pull down a stack of books from the top shelf, your skirt rides up ever so slightly to bunch at your waist.

To any passing stranger, you may even look sweet at the moment - soft body hugged by the green fabric, knee high socks, lipstick cautiously being applied by the small mirror taped to your locker door.

But Eddie knows better. The whole school knows better, with the way everyone makes a point to avoid you. Cheerleaders stop walking and turn the other way, the jocks avoid your gaze and keep as long of a distance from you, and even the nerds and band geeks make sure to walk with their head down and mind their steps to not bump into you.

"What are you looking at?" Dustin suddenly jumps in, face few inches from Eddie, causing the older boy to straighten up in surprise and hit his head against the wall. Clutching his head where it's beginning to bruise, he makes it a point to glare at the curly haired freshman, who only flashes him an innocent smile.

"Ouch, what the hell, Henderson?" Eddie grumbles.

"You got that 'I'm lost in my thoughts' look on your face. And I was just curious as to what could be so interesting to have you staring off into space."

"It's nothing." Eddie quickly blurts out, practically slamming his locker shut and leaning against it with a faux grin, cool relaxed posture with his arms crossed. Dustin doesn't buy that, only frowning in disbelief, before leaning to the side to peek towards where Eddie was staring.

The only person really visible is you, thumbing through your notebooks, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Holy shit, were you... staring at (Y/n) (L/n)?" Dustin semi-shouts out of shock, forcing Eddie to practically grab the younger boy by the front of his t-shirt and yank him backwards, narrowly avoiding the curious look you throw behind your back upon hearing your name be shouted out.

"Keep your damn voice down, geez." Eddie swears, heart thrumming with anxiety. Dustin's face only quirks up in semi-annoyance, his left hand coming up to slap across the senior's chest.

"Why were you staring at her?"

"I was not staring at her." Eddie weakly responds. It's a total lie and they both know it, with Eddie unable to even look Dustin straight in the face.

"Listen, I know you're crazy and your whole thing is going against the grain - which I think is awesome, don't get me wrong. But getting involved with her? That's a death wish, man. She's fucking scary." Dustin shudders, shaking off faux chills as you slam your locker shut and shove past a group of cowering teens, not even sparing them a second glance.

Cursing internally, the metalhead swallows his comments and forces out a grin.

"Relax, man. I'm not getting involved with anyone."

----------------------------------

Eddie finally gets the courage to talk to you on a rainy Friday afternoon. The parking lot's deserted and the sky's a murky gray, harsh showers slapping against dulled windows fogged up from the cold.

Tucking his roleplaying notebook underneath his left arm, carefree smile on his face from the fantastic D&D session he's just had, he almost walks past where you're leaning against the wall without acknowledging that you're alone.

You're so good at that, Eddie realizes: blending into the background, simultaneously being so eye-catching and beautiful to catch his attention, whilst also exuding an uninviting aura that makes his brain immediately divert his gaze elsewhere.

Tapping your converse shoes against the cement floor, your head is drawn downwards with your eyes narrowly focused in on a hardcover book Eddie can't read the name of. The entire hallway's deserted and Eddie realizes that now's the best time - more than ever - to make his first move.

"Hey. (Y/n), right?" he starts out, waving for your attention and flashing you his most charming smile. It doesn't even leave a dent on your face: lips still in a straight line, your head not even picking up to stare at him.

"What do you want?" you drawl out, flipping a page with your thumb. He fumbles on what to say next, not used to having to speak to someone who won't even look at him - at the very least, he thinks, when jocks are jeering at him or cheerleaders are insulting him, they flash him a dirty glance.

"Tutoring." is the first thing that leaves his lips and that does the job of causing you to still and look up at him with your eyebrows raised, mocking grin on your face.

"Tutoring? You do know that I'm barely passing all my classes, right?" you spit out, unimpressed. Stranded, Eddie's hands fly up in mock surrender, voice edged with nerves as he forces out a laugh.

"Yeah uh, no, I meant like... I could tutor you."

You chuckle at that - a dry, bitter sound that makes him cringe - perfectly manicured fingers curling to point accusingly at his figure.

"You, Eddie Munson, repeat senior - tutoring me? Yeah right. Fuck off, won't you?"

Licking his lips, Eddie takes in a deep breath, ready to try and persuade you again when the loud honking of a car cuts in. Looking over your shoulder, he can see the faint outline of a truck and a man sitting by the front of the driver's seat, shouting your name. He can't make out much about the man's features - the glass windows fogged up and obscured by the pouring rain - and you brush past Eddie with ease, shoulders colliding with his.

"Well that went well." Eddie sarcastically comments under his breath.

Maybe this bet isn't going to work out, he bitterly thinks, kicking a small pebble in his way.

Then it's Monday. And thank god for Ms. Rogers of his American History class - because she announces a new group project, and the pairings just so work out to pair you and him together. Eddie has to conceal the rush of joy and relief when he sees his name hastily scrawled next to yours on the whiteboard, keeping his face straight and outwardly disinterested when he sits down next to you.

"Hey there, partner." he jokes, sliding his chair closer to the table. Your gaze remains fixated on your nails, your only acknowledgment of his presence being the rolling of your eyes. "How's life?"

"Life is life, Munson." you spit, harsh gaze shifting a fraction to cast him a dirty glance. It makes him feel small, goosebumps rising across his skin from the way your lip snarls and your voice tightens.

"Right, well, now that we're project partners we'll probably be seeing a lot of each other. Do you wanna meet up after school to discuss the basics?" Eddie trails off slowly, cautiously trying to survey your reactions.

He's silently bracing for another cruel remark - or maybe a disinterested eyeroll, coupled with a middle finger to his face - but to his surprise, you huff out a quick sigh and unclench your jaw.

"Fine. The library at 3.30."

"Oh actually, I was wondering if we could do later because technically we're supposed to have a Hellfire campaign tonight-"

You hold one hand up to his face, forcing him to shut up, before throwing him an annoyed glance.

"Do I look like I care? Reschedule."

All other arguments die in his mouth when the teacher begins to talk, signaling for everyone in the class to fall silent and redirect their attention to the front of the classroom. Eddie shifts to look forward, but he can't help but quickly glance at you from the corner of his eyes.

You look agitated, teeth biting down on the end of a yellow pencil, grinding down onto hard wood. Shoulder tensed, body braced forward as you lean onto your propped up arms. Eddie realizes then that he's never seen you relaxed. Or seen you smile, or hell, be anything other than aggressive and tense.

The thoughts of the bet with Jason re-enter his mind, which he's quick to scrub away in an attempt to pay attention. Above all, he supposes, he'd like to at least pass this fucking class so he's not a fourth time repeat senior.

The end of the school day arrives in a flash, it seems, with him anxiously jumping up and down on the balls of his feet outside the library whilst waiting for you to appear. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he then feels a warm hand on his back, twisting around clumsily to see your non-amused expression staring back at him.

"Come on, Munson. I don't have all day."

The first half an hour is painfully awkward. Eddie keeps on throwing jokes - "if I have to read another passage about a dead white man, I think I'm going to die myself" - and thoughtful compliments - "that's a really good idea, (Y/n), thank god we were paired together or else I would've failed" - but you don't seem the least bit deterred. Sitting at least five inches away from him, shoulders hunched over as your gaze remains fixated on the stack of papers strewn over the table surface. There's a permanent frown on your face, pulling down and wrinkling your features, coupled with an unwavering silence.

Eddie wonders what it'd be like if you smiled instead.

"So what do you think? I reckon pretty much everyone's going to do the easy topics - the ratification of the constitution or the fight for independence. So maybe it'd be better if we did something different, like maybe how the two party system emerged?" Eddie suggests lightly, leaning back on his seat, flashing you a hopeful smile.

You don't even look up at him, shrugging your shoulders.

"Sure, whatever."

"If you think there's something else we could do, I'd love to hear it." He's practically begging you to speak at this point, considering he's been the one filling the silence in the room for the past half hour.

"Don't have any ideas."

"You sure?"

"YES! Jesus christ, Munson, are you deaf?" you snap, looking up at him angrily.

"Alright, god, I'm sorry that I'm trying to include you in OUR project." he retorts, feeling his patience run dry. "You know-" He lets out a dry laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I've been nothing but nice to you the past few weeks-"

"Why is that?" you press, voice suddenly quiet.

"W-what?"

His breath catches in his throat when you make full eye contact with him, yellow embers reflecting in your orbs from the light bulbs hanging overhead.

"I'm confused as to why you've been so nice to me lately, Munson. What's your end game?" you question, slamming your book shut. Eddie blinks at you silently like a fish out of water - what the hell is he supposed to say to that? It must look awfully odd from your point of view, he realizes, for you two to go from strangers to him trying to talk to you all the time.

But what's he supposed to say? "Jason Carver and I fought and we got into a bet that I could seduce you and bring you to prom because you're this notorious ice queen."

Yeah right.

Exhaling quickly, he just cocks his head to the side and feigns calmness.

"Maybe I just wanted to get to know you better."

"Me, seriously?" you scoff, clearly not believing him.

"Yeah! Look, I... I know what it's like for people at this shitty high school to not take you seriously or to make you feel like a complete outcast. I figured you could use a friend! Because no offense, I have the Hellfire Club, but I've never seen you with anyone but yourself."

He's being pretty sincere with that statement, and it seems to come through as you raise your eyebrows slowly in response, unreadable expression on your face.

"You've been... watching me?"

"Not in a creepy way! Just consider it, like, one outcast looking out for another."

It's the slightest change, a reflex that lasts for less than a second, but he catches the end of your lips twitch ever so slightly to indicate a grin. It disappears just as quickly it appears, but he catches it nonetheless, and it makes hope blossom in his lower abdomen.

"... Alright." you surrender, gaze slightly softer, voice no longer aggressive and defensive. It's impossible for him to conceal his joy at that.

"Really?"

"Yeah, Munson. I suppose I could be a bit nicer to you. But-" you poke him on the side with a spare pencil. "No promises. No pushing me into anything. We're hardly acquaintances, let alone friends. But I suppose if we need to work together on this stupid project together, we might as well get along. Okay?"

Eddie nearly pulls a muscle with how fast he nods in affirmation.

"Okay."

---------------------------------------

Tuesdays and Thursday evenings are from then on reserved for after school meet ups to work on the project. You're still characteristically you - full of mean comments, sassy eyerolls, judgmental gazes and all. But he does notice that as time goes on, you're snarling at him less and loosening up ever so slightly.

He's yet to seen you smile, however, though he's gotten close a couple of times. Like when he slipped on a banana peel whilst walking out the library with you last week or when yesterday, he made a dumb joke about a horrendous illustration of Thomas Jefferson in the textbook.

On a windy February afternoon, you two end up staying a bit later than expected. Eddie leaning against the wall, sitting on the carpeted floor with his legs crossed as he pours through five heavy leather bound books, you're hunched over a shitty desk lamp and a cup of coffee as you highlight passages from a textbook. Neither of you have cared to check the clock or have registered the fact that it's been a full two hours since the librarians notified you two that they're heading out.

"I think my brain's melting." he complains, slipping down the wall slowly in a dramatic fashion. You shoot him an amused glance, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth.

"Tough luck, devil boy. We've still got a lot more to read."

Eddie groans, rubbing his eyes with his metal ring clad fingers.

"I know, but it feels like we've been reading boring books in this stuffy room FOREVER now!"

The two of you pause at that, it suddenly dawning on both of you that the rest of the library seems oddly... dark. And quiet.

"Shit. What time is it?" you ask aloud, standing up so quickly that you topple your chair over. The nearest clock - hanging behind a row of oak bookshelves - indicates that it's nearly six thirty pm.

Far, far, later than anyone would be at school.

It's a scramble to dog-ear pages, organize the books in their relevant places and to shove all your belongings in to your respective bags before racing down the hallway to the front doors, which of course, are locked.

"Well, I guess we're gonna die here." Eddie remarks, dropping his hands from the front doors with a sigh. You slap him across the shoulder at that, though this time the action's more playful, more tongue in cheek.

"Relax, Munson. All we need is a phone, do you think the front office's phones still work?"

"Yeah. I would know, because they made a call to my uncle this morning to complain that I came in an hour late to first period."

"Classic Eddie." you comment, to which he visibly stiffens and stares down at you with awe. "What?" you press, confused at why he's suddenly looking at you like that.

"You said my name. Not Munson, not devil boy, not an insult."

To his quiet surprise, you seem to get embarrassed at that, eyes dropping to the floor as you shift nervously on your feet.

"I mean, that's your name, right? But if you prefer I call you like Munson instead I ca-"

"No, no." he lets out a gentle laugh, and a thought passes by your head like a bullet train that you really like it. It's soft, it's melodic, it's sweet: taste of sweet potatoes coated in cloud sugar on your tongue. "I really like hearing you say my name. Say it more."

Your lips quirk up again, signaling a potential smile, but it's not fully realized. But your shoulders do drop in a more relaxed manner, and you flash him an ambivalent glance.

"Sure."

After using a spare hairpin in Eddie's pocket to pick the lock to the front office, you jump over the counter to slide over the surface and reach the phone behind the desk. Eddie makes a joke about how you'd make an excellent spy - to which you throw him a dirty glare and signal for him to shut up - before you make a phone call. To whom, he doesn't know. But it's clear that you care for this person, as your voice becomes lower and less agitated.

"Hey. Yeah, sorry for worrying you. I was staying late with my project partner for American History and then... we lost track of the time and now we're locked in. Do you think you could come over and get us?" you pause, Eddie supposes it's to allow the person on the other line to respond. "Alright. Sounds good. See you soon."

"Who'd you call?" he quizzes, curious as he helps you slide off the desk, allowing you to grasp at his shoulders to jump off securely. He chooses to ignore the way his skin tingles with electricity when your soft hands grip at his skin, heat wrapping around his upper body.

"My godfather. But it'll probably take another half an hour for him to arrive so we should probably camp out by the front doors till then."

There's a good five minutes of uninhibited silence after that as you two sit by the front entrance. You're sitting across from him leaning against the lockers: one leg straight, the other propped up by your chest as you rest your arms on your knee and twist your body to look out the window. Eddie's sitting a few inches away from you, legs crossed, toying with the rings on his fingers.

It's not a tense silence, but it is boring.

"I didn't know you had a godfather." Eddie decides to say, looking up at you cautiously. "That's cool."

"Cool, huh?" you quip, tearing your gaze away from the window. "Not many people think that. Most people think it's fucking weird that I live with my godfather instead of my biological parents."

"Well most people are assholes and idiots. Don't listen to them." he argues, lacing his fingers together.

"That's true." you agree, nodding ambivalently. "What about you? You and your uncle? You two live by the trailer park, right?"

Neither of you delve into too much personal information - the conversation's restrained to surface level things, before somehow melting into a heated discussion over music. It turns out that you're a huge music fan, front pocket of your bag overflowing with cassettes, notebooks crumpled by the weight of your walkman and headphones.

"Listen, I can appreciate a good Billy Joel song and all, but Black Sabbath is god." Eddie insists, uncrossing his legs and gesturing frantically with his hands.

"Oh, please, Eddie! You're just saying that because your exposure to Billy Joel has primarily been Uptown Girl. He has some serious deep cuts, like you can't tell me that you're able to listen to Vienna without getting emotional."

"Hey, you can get PLENTY emotional to Black Sabbath."

"Really?" you quip, poking him in the shoulder, forcing him to fall back down on his heels. You're fully smiling at this point, eyes light and wide, lips outstretched into an actual grin. He really likes this sight, he thinks. The light even seems to hit you differently when you smile - carving shadows down your jaw, glittering light kissing your hairline, halo around your hair.

"Really. Pinky promise." Eddie argues, poking his pinkie finger out at you. You stare down at him, fully amused, shaking your head sideways at his antics.

"I'm not gonna pinky promise you shit." you mock, crossing your arm.

"Aw, come on." he leans in teasingly, backing you up against the lockers. He doesn't realize it, but your breath hitches in your throat at the action, as it hits you that he's so close that you can count the individual freckles adorning his cheeks and smell the mixed scents of pine, fresh rain and weed emanating from his jacket.

You both break away from your respective positions at the sound of the front doors unlocking, with a very unimpressed look on Hopper's face as he links back the keys to his belt and raises his eyebrows at you.

"Are you sure it was the project that made you late and not being with your boyfriend?" he drawls, forefinger outstretched to gesture between the two of you. You stand up so quickly you practically stumble forward, stuttering your words - you're so mortified, you can't even look at Eddie.

"Jesus, dad, NO! He's just a friend."

"Friend, huh?" Eddie teases, elbowing you on the side, to which you elbow him back harder (making him groan out in slight pain). He watches as the police chief's blue eyes narrow in on his figure, dissecting him with a single glance, before returning to stare at you. It registers in his mind that Hopper's eyes soften when they land on you, a small grin appearing on his aged face.

"Alright then. Good to see you've made friends, (Y/n)." he comments. You roll your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Speaking of which, Eddie needs to get going. Right?" you rush out, practically shoving Eddie forward. Eddie nods awkwardly, shooting the older man a (what he hopes is) charming smile before winking at you.

"Right. Thank you, sir, for saving us. (Y/n), I'll see you next Tuesday for the final bits of the project?"

"Yeah, see you."

The moment you hop into the front seat of Hopper's truck, you can practically feel the intensity of the the rush of thoughts in your godfather's mind, his heavy gaze alternating between the road and your anxious figure shifting against the leather seats.

"So... this Eddie. Your friend, huh?" he starts out, quiet.

"Just drive, Hop, jesus." you say out loud, leaning your head against the window, rubbing your temples in a soothing manner as if to cure a headache.

"Not commenting on it, sweetheart. Just saying it's nice to see you open up and make friends."

"A friend, dad. One. Singular." you correct, to which he just waves off your comment with a blow through his lips.

"Still. Maybe this'll help you adjust a bit better. You have been adjusting alright, right?"

He pulls over into the driveway of his house, hands lingering over the steering wheel as he glances over at you worryingly. Hopper's always been a protective godfather, never intrusive but often keeping a close watch on you from the background. You don't blame him for worrying, considering the whiplash of a turn your life's taken in the past few months.

Leaving your parents in New York, packing two bags of clothes before hitchhiking across the country to come all the way down to Hawkins to live with your godfather. Your 'real' parents are practically dead to you, hence why you've chosen to call Hopper 'dad', and you consider El to be your real life little sister.

You figure you're already asking so much of him: to take you in as his non-biological daughter, to provide you a place to sleep and eat, to pay for your schooling as you catch up on two years of high school you took off in New York. All of this, combined, has led you to be less than transparent about how you've been adjusting at your new school.

In fact, Hopper wouldn't even know anything about how you don't really have friends if it hadn't been for Mike and his big mouth, and El's sweet concerns being expressed to Hopper.

"I'm doing okay, dad. Seriously." you assure him, patting down on his hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

When your bedroom door finally closes behind you that night, it dawns on you as you're staring up at the ceiling - you've made a friend.

For the first time in a while, you fall asleep filled with joy and giddiness.

------------------------------------------

"Do you wanna come see my band play tonight?"

Eddie asks you on the final day of your project, closing your locker door for you, peering up at you with his doe like eyes. Your mind's been swimming with anxious thoughts all day - you're afraid that the only thing keeping your friendship afloat with Eddie is the project, which is due to be turned in today, and you're not sure what's going to happen once it's done.

So it's actually kind of a relief to have him beg you to see his band perform tonight, relief that you can't help but spill out into a small grin reflected on your lips.

"Corroded Coffin's playing tonight?"

"Yeah! And it's gonna be radical. Some of my other friends are gonna be attending too, so you won't have to show up alone."

"Aren't minors not allowed in seedy bars?" you tease. "Your friends are like, all freshman boys."

"Hey, I have friends that aren't Henderson or the other kids! Seriously, Steve and Robin are cool adults in their twenties and they will be there too."

"I don't think imaginary friends count." you continuously tease, walking away from him, as he follows right behind you.

"They're NOT imaginary! I swear, they're real people with real jobs and hobbies." Eddie pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. It's adorable, really, and you can't help but chuckle at his sad expression.

"Alright, alright, I'm joking! Sure, sounds good. When and where is it?"

"The downtown bar by the bookstore off the 45. Door's open at 7, but realistically we won't be playing till like 8.30 so feel free to come by then. I'll tell Steve and Robin to wait for you outside. They're cool, I promise."

You can't help but bite your bottom lip at that, anxiety gnawing at your chest.

"Are you sure? I just... I don't know if I'll get along with your friends, that's all. I mean, it took us like forever to be friends ourselves." you comment dryly.

"Pfft, you'll get along with them super well, don't worry! You're cool, they're cool, that's all you need."

All protests die in your mouth when he smiles at you like that, so you sigh and surrender to his demands.

"Alright, fine."

The bar's packed and loud, you think, flashes of yellow and red light emitting from the dingy entrance as you cross the road towards the establishment. There's already a line of people outside but there's two people in particular who stick out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd of black and edgy looks - a girl and a boy around your age, mid-playful argument.

The guy meets your gaze and then waves you over, soft smile on his lips. He's quite cute, you think - not your type, but there's an undeniable charm to him, wavy chestnut brown hair, soft features and slight muscle definition to his thighs and arms. The girl's grinning at you and she's also pretty, short brunette bob framing her lively face quite nicely.

They're also dressed more for the park than a metal concert, but you suppose you haven't done much better (throwing on just a t-shirt and jeans over a pair of sneakers).

"Hey! (Y/n), right?" Steve asks, as you nod in response, slightly intimidated at the presence of these new people.

You do vaguely remember Hopper mentioning a guy named Steve once over a phone call with Joyce, but other than that you don't know too much about him. But Steve seems really nice, welcoming you into the group instantly, gently pulling you towards the two of them and away from the rest of the hectic crowds.

"I'm Steve. Nice to meet you. And this is Robin, my best friend and eternal pain in the ass."

"Cap your ego, Harrington. Don't listen to him, besides, us girls have to stick together, right?" Robin quips, pulling you against her and winking at you. You can't help but giggle at that, what with the way Steve's face then scrunches up into a haughty frown.

It turns out that they're a delightful pair to be around. Robin's sarcastic, witty and funny, and her no-bullshit attitude and dry sense of humor pairs nicely with Steve's slightly egotistical, flirty and outgoing nature. And with a bit of alcohol dancing on the tip of your tongue, you find yourself loosening and completely comfortable by the time the band comes out to play.

The music is loud - so loud that it reverberates through your body, so loud that it feels like the whole building shakes with the booming of the speakers - but it's also delirious and addicting, jumping up and down in a sea of people to the ear-splitting music.

The three of you stay long past after the show's wrapped up, leaning against the counter of the open bar with dopey smiles on each of your faces.

"Holy shit, my dad's gonna be so mad that I'm this tipsy." you comment, leaning onto Robin's shoulders for support.

"Really?" she teases, amused.

"Seriously. And the fact that he's the police chief probably isn't going to do me much favours."

"Hopper's your father?" Steve asks, surprised. He remembers in the back of his mind Hopper mentioning that he's taken in another kid a while ago, but he hadn't pressed the older man for details.

"Godfather, actually, but he might as well be my dad. Considering I left my shitty biological parents in New York."

"To shitty parents." Robin announces, raising her glass of whiskey into the air. Steve and you clink your glasses with hers in agreement.

"To shitty parents."

"Looks like someone's had a lot of fun." Eddie comments from behind you the moment you down the shot, your head slow to catch up with his presence before it hits you all at once.

"Eddie!" you squeal out, dropping the glass onto the counter and spinning around to envelope him in a fierce hug. He's wholly unprepared to catch your embrace with the speed and force with which you wrap your arms around his waist, causing him to stumble backwards.

"You were amazing! Like seriously, your guitar solo was the best part of the whole night." you gush and Eddie's glad that the harsh lighting of the bar is able to mask the slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Aw, thanks. Did Steve and Robin treat you alright?" he asks, looking up at his friends.

"More than alright, we nearly stole your girl." Steve teases, to which Eddie only scowls, waving away his friend's suggestive teasing.

"Alright, Harrington, keep it in your pants."

Robin and Steve continue to smirk at Eddie, making exaggerated lovesick expressions and throwing kisses at the two of you, none of which you're catching because your head is still buried against Eddie's chest. Eddie has to subtly - but fiercely - tell his friends to cut it out, gesturing with his hands and throwing nasty glares their way.

"Fuck, I really need to sober up though." you mumble, straightening up, stumbling ever so slightly on your feet.

"Yeah, and I'm beat. Wanna split a cab, Buckley?"

"Sure do, Steve. See you two kids around." Robin slyly adds, quickly exiting right after Steve to leave you alone with Eddie. It's clear what they're trying to do, but Eddie can't really bring it to himself to care when you tug at his sleeves, still tipsy and tired.

"Can we drive out somewhere cold and empty? If I go home now, Hopper's gonna be real mad about my alcohol consumption. Even if I'm over 18, that man is... protective."

Eddie chuckles, nodding, brushing away a stray strand of hair from your eyes.

"Alright then. Guess we're driving to the park."

On the way out to his car, his left hand resting on your back as he guides you into the front seat, Eddie meets Jason's eyes from across the road. The jock is leaning against his car, nursing a beer bottle in his right hand, whilst his group of friends rustle and joke around with each other by the gas tanks.

An unshakable feeling of disgust rises up in Eddie's throat, heart clenching at the way the blonde's eyes shift down at you, then on to Eddie's hand on your back, and how then a semi-impressed grin spreads on Jason's lips. The blonde ever so slightly nods at Eddie, as if confirming their bet, before returning to his conversation with his friends.

"Eddie?" you call out his name, breaking him out of his trance. "Everything alright?"

He's being paranoid, he tells himself. He hasn't even done anything yet, if anything, he's nowhere near "winning" the bet - you're just friends, that's all this is, leading you back to the car and helping you sober up by a park.

"Yeah. All good." Eddie forces out, faux grin and all. There's an odd bitter taste filling his lungs, but he breathes out slowly, reminding himself that he's not doing anything bad.

He's just a friend, taking another friend, to the park.

Sitting on the swing set, his fingers trail down the linked metal chains, small smile on his face as you childishly swing back at forth with your legs kicking out in front of you. It's your way of sobering up, you insist, and he can't complain - it's clearly making you very happy, the smile on your face permanent. It's a nice sight, a rare sight, one that he's keeping tucked in to the crevices of his mind for later.

"Be careful." Eddie chastises, watching you soar higher and higher towards the night sky. "I don't want you to break a bone or something. Think Hopper would be even more if you break a bone than if you show up a bit drunk."

Slowing down your movements, you scoff, but there's still a lazy smile on your face indicating that you're not really mad.

"I hate it when you're right." you mumble, drawing a loud laugh from Eddie's lips, head thrown back and all.

"I'm always right, (L/n)." he challenges, knocking his swing into yours.

"Sure, Munson. Except the times you're not. Which is almost every time."

"Almost."

Silence settles over the two of you again, the creaking of metal as you both lazily swing back and forth being the only sounds in the night, pale moon marking the shift into midnight. Eddie's fiddling with his rings absentmindedly, not really sure what to say or why he suddenly feels nervous sitting next to you, until you pick your head back up and speak.

"Thanks."

"For what?" he's confused and surprised.

"For inviting me. For letting me meet Steve and Robin, you're right, they're really cool. And like, I don't know. Thanks for being my friend, I guess." you look down immediately after finishing your sentence, hot embarrassment coursing through your veins, Eddie's soft stare too much to bare all at once on top of your heartfelt confession. The confession that tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, guilt pouring over him in waves.

"Yeah, so-"

"It's just crazy to me, you know?" you interrupt. "That you'd want to be friends with me. That anyone would want to be friends with me. I know I was a bitch when we first spoke. And uh, maybe I still kind of am. But you just... you're different, Eddie."

You pause for a tender moment, legs spreading as you shift your swing closer towards his, so that your knees are brushing against his and you can place a warm hand down onto his lap.

"I feel like you really see me. Not this whole 'ice queen' bullshit or whatever people are saying at school. The real me, the person behind all the walls and defences raised up. You kept on trying to get to know me even when I was pushing you away and being cruel to you. And it was thanks to that that we ended up becoming friends. So... yeah. Thank you, Eddie. Sincerely."

It's hard to shake off the shame now coating his lips, his skin burning and feeling sticky underneath your pure, innocent gaze and soft touch. He forces a smile, fingers uncurling from the metal chains of the swing to pat down on your warm hand, trying his best to maintain the neutrality of his voice.

"Y-yeah. No problem, I guess."

-------------------------------------------

Things shift after that night by the swing set.

Despite the history project having ended, he ends up seeing you even more regularly than before. It's because you end up taking a part-time job at Family Video after befriending Steve and Robin, and also because you start intermittently dropping by to watch his band pratcitce after school or swing by randomly to Hellfire Club sessions, at the insistence of El wanting to see Mike.

At this point, all of Eddie's friends know who you are. It was comedic at first, to see how Gareth nearly choked on his tongue and refused to make eye contact with you in your presence, and how all the freshman boys - Dustin, Mike and Lucas - pretended to be interested in a bunch of random sheet music thrown around the room to avoid having to look at you.

"Relax, kids, you can stare at her." Eddie had to say, laughing as he placed an arm around your shoulder. "Stop scaring them, (L/n)."

You just scowled at that, shrugging off his arm and sighing dramatically.

"I'm not trying to do that! It's just my reputation preceding me. I'm not as mean as I seem, I promise." you emphasized, turning to address the boys face to face. "I'm just here because Eddie promised to let me play for a 'taster' session of sorts."

"You're... joining Hellfire?" Dustin meekly asked, being the first out of the three to gain enough courage to look up at you. To his surprise, you didn't scowl or flip him off, if anything, you looked quite approachable and friendly standing next to Eddie, who was smiling at you with so much pride.

"Not sure if I'm necessarily joining, but... this meathead won't stop talking about this damn game so I wanted to see what all the hype was about."

The other boys loosened up after seeing how relaxed Eddie seemed to be around you, mock hurt on his face as he dramatically clutched his chest, stumbling backwards as if he'd been shot.

"You wound me with such harsh words! Now I can't promise that I'll go easy on you when we start playing."

"Why would that matter?"

"Duh, I'm the dungeon master, so everything you can do in the game is basically up to me. Or what you roll on the dice, but mainly up to me."

"That hardly seems fair." you commented, flashing the young boys a look of disbelief. "Is that really how this works?"

"Yeah, which is why we basically always have to gang up against him." Lucas replied, drawing a genuine laugh from your lips. It was the final straw to break the tension in the room, everyone loosening up and welcoming your new presence in the group.

"Sounds good, freshies. Us against Eddie, we can definitely take him." you winked at Eddie, rolling your shoulders forward. "Watch out, Eds."

It's late spring now, verging on summer. Eddie's lost count of the amount of time you two have spent together, be that in between periods at school (skipping classes together by the bleachers) or sneaking into the cinemas without paying on a tipsy game of truth or dare.

Eddie catches himself fully lost in your presence - watching your hair flip in the wind behind you whilst he drives with his window down, surveying how your delicate fingers toy with the fabric of your jacket when you're deep in concentration, counting your slow breaths as you lean against him in a darkened parking lot out of exhaustion - until the illusion is shattered for him by way of remembrance.

It's a bet.

But it doesn't matter, not really, he'd always tell himself. You two are still friends. And Eddie's not forcing it, being friends with you is natural, spending time with you is something he genuinely wants.

It's a hollow way of consoling himself, but it's the only way he's able to justify continuning to hang out with you and to slyly avoid Jason or his stupid best friends' constant pestering about how the bet is going.

"We're still just friends, Carver." Eddie gritted through his teeth, skillfully stepping past the blonde to get to his van. Jason didn't seem to like that response, one hand reaching out to grab at his wrist and yank him backwards.

"Listen, freak. I'm impressed, not gonna lie, that you even managed to become friends with her. But the bet was over dating her and getting her to go to prom. It's now, what, end of April?" the jock chuckled, tapping his two front fingers against the expensive watch around his wrist. "Time's running out. That said, I lose absolutely nothing if you lose the bet so actually-"

The blonde pulled away, victorious grin on his pink lips. He looked like a coy predator playing with his prey, smug cruelty rolling off of him in waves.

"Yeah, don't make a move. I'd love to win this bet."

Looking down at where Jason's filthy hand was wrapped around his wrist, Eddie roughly shook off the basketball player's grasp, glare fuelled by the heat of a thousand suns.

"I'm going to win the bet, Carver. Don't get too cocky."

"Did you see what Nate did yesterday?" you question him in the present. Eddie's lying down on the carpeted floor of your bedroom next to you, legs bent in a 45 degree angle, hands supporting the back of his head. You're lying down with your feet propped up on your bed, your eyes meeting his in a sly manner.

"Not really, why? What'd he do this time?"

"He tried doing a backflip during the lunch period and broke his left wrist. Cried like a little bitch about it, too."

The image of the tall, overconfident jock wailing like a child makes Eddie snort.

"That's hilarious."

"It's what he deserves too. He's a total creep." you shudder, remembering how he tried to hit on you on your first day of school. "Though, he did cry a bit more when I sprained his fingers because he tried to grab my ass on my first day."

"He did what?"

"Yeah, I know. Real fucking creep. Don't know why he bothered, either, the jeans I was wearing that day were super ugly."

"I highly doubt that." the comment slips out of Eddie's mouth unconsciously, piquing your curiosity enough for you to shift your body to the side to stare at him with confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

"Oh! Just like..." Eddie scratches his neck, avoiding your gaze. "I highly doubt that the jeans you were wearing were ugly. Just like, I don't think anything you could wear could be ugly."

You sit up at that, legs crossing underneath.

"You calling me pretty?"

"Well, uh-" he stumbles over his words, cheeks flushing vibrant pink as he begins to rattle off in an incoherent manner. "Yeah, I mean I always thought that but yeah you are. Objectively speaking. But also like I think you're pretty, is it hot in here suddenly or-" his hands fly up to the collar of his hellfire club shirt, pulling at the sides as if to let in cool air.

"Are you serious?" you sound shocked, in disbelief, which only confuses Eddie in return.

"Of course I am. Why... would I lie about that?"

You shrug, bringing a juice box to your lips.

"Figured if you thought I was pretty we wouldn't still be friends. That's a compliment you give to someone who's attracted to you, not someone who's just your friend."

"Oh." Eddie then comments, pausing ever so slightly. "Who says I'm not attracted to you?"

His daring question lingers in the air for a few baited breaths, the atmosphere in the room shifting in the microseconds it takes for that sentence to leave his lips and for him to suddenly shift closer to you.

"... I'm attracted to you too." you choke on your words, it barely being a whisper, but Eddie catches it nonetheless. His left hand comes to rest on your cheek, eyes staring right into yours that you think he must be able to see through your soul.

"Can I kiss you?"

You don't think you can speak. You're left to nod quietly, hoping that it's enough. And it is. The force with which he kisses you - he blames it on the months and months of pent up adoration - backs you up against your bed, your legs falling backwards as your back meets the soft mattress. He practically crawls on top of your lap, kiss messy and deep, strands of curly hair clouding your hazy vision.

When it's done, fresh air filling your lungs instead of the intoxicating scent of Eddie, muted taste of beer and mint chapstick dancing on your lips, you two stare at each other with wide eyes before bursting into a fit of nervous laughter.

"So... what now?" you question lightly, hands still gripping his forearms.

"Let's go on a date? Arcade after school on Friday?" he suggests.

"We already do that every week, doofus."

"I know, but this time it'll be different. I'll hold your hand and buy you dinner afterwards."

You pretend to think about it, humming quietly before nodding with a wide smile.

"Deal."

You fall asleep in his embrace that night, face squished against his upper chest, body rising and falling alongside your slow breaths. But Eddie can't sleep. The euphoria he's feeling is underlined with sickening guilt, a gnawing clawing sensation in his stomach, a harsh whisper in the back of his mind that none of this is real.

He's lying to you.

But what he feels for you isn't a lie, he reasons, so it's fine. He's driving himself insane with these internal arguments, subconsciously pulling your sleeping figure closer towards himself as his fingers clutch onto your waist tighter.

Burying his head into your hair, inhaling deeply, he attempts to quiet his thoughts. It'll all be over soon. Graduation is looming. He's just got one more part of the bargain to hold up - asking you to prom. It'll be over soon, it won't get worse....

Right?

------------------------------------------

"I'm really glad she's dating you."

Hopper comments two months later, looking over from the driver seat of his truck as Eddie jumps up straight upon being addressed by your godfather. The two men have spent countless times together - whether it be Eddie lounging on the couch in the living room whilst waiting for you or Hopper knocking on Eddie's trailer door to ask why you still haven't come home - but it never stops Eddie from getting a bit nervous around him.

He wants to make a good impression on the police chief for numerous reasons, but above all, because he's your father. Your only parent at this point. So even if it's something as casual as hitching a ride from Hopper the day Gareth had to borrow his van, Eddie's still a bit on edge when he's sitting in the passenger seat next to Hopper.

Upon seeing the younger man's eyes widen in surprise, Hopper chuckles, the sound a low rich baritone.

"Have to admit, the day I picked her up from school that day you two kids got yourselves locked inside and she called you her new friend... I felt that there was something more to that word. Friend. And despite your, um, questionable activities-"

Eddie flushes with embarrassment at that.

"You've always been good to her. And it's doing her wonders, I can tell. She went from this isolated, broken shell of a person to... Someone with friends her age. A job. Someone who smiles and laughs and says yes to spontaneous plans. I know it's not all you but you've been a big part of that so thank you." Hopper grumbles out, coughing awkwardly, not used to such heartfelt confessions. It makes Eddie feel even worse, almost making him want to sink into his seat.

"It's no big deal." Eddie forces out, voice strained and almost breaking because he's choking on recurrent waves of shame, guilt twisting like sharp veins around his chest and squeezing his heart. His mind is still foggy and reeling from the guilt when the truck finally pulls up by his trailer, and you come barreling from the inside of his trailer to hug Eddie.

"Didn't know you'd be here." Hopper comments, crossing his arms. You roll your eyes.

"I think I'm allowed to come over to visit my boyfriend, dad."

"Mmhmm, just make sure you're home by eleven."

"Midnight."

"Ten thirty."

"Eleven thirty."

Hopper pretends to be annoyed, sighing deeply, but he still smiles and ruffles your hair before leaving.

"Fine. See you then, kiddo."

Your legs thrown over his lap half-hazardously, Eddie can't really focus on the VHS tape you've generously 'rented' from your workplace - "Please, as if I'll get in trouble. The only employees are me, Robin and Steve and our boss basically never comes by." - as another character gets gruesomely killed on the screen.

"You're not watching the movie." you complain half-way through the movie, putting down the popcorn bowl to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. He only smiles in response, shaking his head sideways, symmetrical face framed by his long curls.

"Can't focus. You're too pretty." he offers, and you chuckle at that, his whining tone and pleading eyes melting your heart. You clamber on top of him, legs caging his body in between your thighs, as your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

"Aw.... Thanks, babe. But you really don't have to tell me that every day."

"I'd tell you that you're pretty every day just to see you smile like that." he admits softly, boyish grin on his lips and mischievous glint in his eyes. You open your mouth to respond with a sassy comment when someone knocks on the door loudly, accompanied by a furious set of even louder knocks.

It's your sister, El, jumping up and down anxiously before her eyes fall upon your familiar figure.

"El, what's wrong?" you question immediately, climbing off of the couch and rushing to cradle your younger sister's face in your hands. She doesn't look physically harmed nor does she look particularly upset, just anxious to see you.

"I'm bored and Mike canceled on me last minute." she complains, stretching her arms out over her head. "I heard from dad that you were here and I wondered if we could like... hang out. We don't have to, if I'm intruding I can-"

You look at Eddie with a pleading gaze, but you honestly don't even need to convince him, as he's already fluffing up the pillows and shaking off the popcorn crumbs from the blanket strewn over the sofa.

"Nonsense, nonsense! You're totally welcome to join us. Just be careful with your sister - sometimes she screams really loudly at the jump scares." your boyfriend teases, winking at you. El giggles at that and you send the metalhead a harsh glare.

"I do not."

"You totally do, babe. But it's okay, I still find you hot."

"Is there popcorn left?" your younger sister then questions, wiggling out of your grasp to stare at the television with eyes full of wonder.

"I'll make more, why don't you two get comfortable." you quickly suggest, knowing Eddie's kitchen like the back of your hand. You take the quiet moments which follow to admire how Eddie interacts with El, your vision only slightly obscured from behind the counter.

El's rattling off about something you don't really understand but Eddie seems totally entraced by her, delighted smile and eager nodding, gently encouraging your younger sister to continue her story whenever she gets nervous that she's talking too much. Your sister looks wholly relaxed in his presence, shoulders lax and fingers thrumming gently against a cushion she's holding against her stomach.

When he makes a dumb joke and El laughs, the warmth blossoming in your chest worsens. You feel lightheaded, stomach filled with love, eyes glazed over in pink hue. You almost drop the popcorn packets on the floor when you realize what this is.

Love.

You love Eddie.

You're not surprised, concealing the smile on your face as you turn away and pop the paper packet into the microwave. Eddie's your first real boyfriend. First friend turned lover, first friend in Hawkins, the person who introduced you to your new group of friends - Steve, Robin, and now Nancy and Jonathan as they swing by Family Video ever so often.

It was inevitable then that you'd fall in love with Eddie.

It's all you can think about for the rest of the night, in between stupid jokes thrown in by Eddie and comments of awe and shock muttered by El in between mouthfuls of popcorn, until she's practically falling asleep on your lap. Checking your watch, you realize that it's nearly 11:30 anyways, so you'd better get home.

"Do you think you could drive us back?" you question quietly, whispering as you gesture to El's sleeping figure. Eddie nods, turning off the television and gently pocketing his car keys as you lightly shake your sister awake and strap her into the backseat. She mumbles incoherently, asking sleepily where you two are going, to which you only shush her and assure her that Eddie's just driving you two home.

The conversation in the car is light and spare - it's late at night, El's still sleeping in the backseat, and unbeknownst to each other, you both have a lot on your minds.

Eddie's fixated on how much he likes you, how much he's scared of losing you and how it's almost been two months of dating you. You're transfixed on the realization that you love Eddie, the tall metalhead who loves his guitar and D&D, the boy with copious jean jackets and an oddly obnoxious charm that broke down your walls brick by brick. The constant wondering if he feels the same, the worries that you're overthinking it, layered with the euphoric rush of adoration and infatuation makes you almost sick with joy.

When the familiar outline of your house comes into view, Eddie piggybacks El into your house as you open up the front door for him, allowing him to gently tuck your sister into bed before you close the door. You accompany Eddie back out to the driveway, fingers anxiously twitching by your sides as the confession sits on the tip of your tongue. It's burning your mouth to keep it in, heart beating at a million miles per minute.

"What's on your mind, princess?" he gently asks you, the sour expression on your face giving you away in a moment's notice that you're clearly deep in thought. But nothing could've prepared him for what you said next.

"I love you." you blurt out. "I actually, wholly, undoubtedly love you."

Eddie freezes at that, grin falling ever so slightly, eyes wide and unblinking. You take it as a bad sign, fumbling over your words desperately as you try to salvage the situation.

"I-I know that might be kind of quick because we've only been dating for two months, but if you think about it we've been friends for almost like three quarters of a year, so it's not-"

"No, no." your boyfriend quickly reassures you, hand cupping your chin to stop your talking and to focus your attention on him. You realize that up close, you can better make out his features in the dark: he's smiling brightly, eyes fawning and voice gentle. "It's not quick. I realized I loved you many weeks ago. Was just waiting for you to catch up." Eddie adds, winking at you.

You laugh at that, nodding eagerly, tension dissipating from the night air in an instant. The boy then kisses you gently under the pale moonlight, his tongue slipping in to trace your bottom lip when you moan out in surprise, the strength and passion with which he presses into your mouth catching you off guard.

Eddie's kissed you a million times at this point, but this time it feels different to you. It feels like a million unsaid "i love you"s wrapped into one, delicate touch burning golden tattoos alongside your skin as his hand dances up your waist, pleasant melodies ringing in your ears even when you pull away to catch your breath.

"So... you love me and I love you, I guess." you breathe out into the cold air, affirming reality for yourself by speaking out loud.

"Yeah." Eddie replies, licking his lips to chase the aftertaste of your cherry lipgloss.

"Two people in love. How romantic." you joke, smiling.

Eddie doesn't respond to that, only pressing another shaky kiss to your lips before bidding you goodnight, his knuckles turning white with the strength with which he grips the steering wheel on his drive back. His anxiety has snowballed past its tipping point, his head a toxic warzone of jumbled thoughts, nauseous feeling causing bile to rise up to his throat that Eddie needs to pull over to the side mid-drive.

His heart feels like it's being crushed.

He can't stand it anymore - the lying, the secrets, the way you look at him like he's the only thing that matters in this cruel world. And now, it's undeniable. The truth is staring him right in the face.

You said you loved him.

And fuck, he loves you.

It's gone too far. He's fallen too deep. He's sinking into a bottomless pit and he's dragging you down with him.

And for what? Eddie bitterly ponders, smashing his hands down onto the steering wheel with anger. A stupid bet with a jock?

He needs to call it off.

He makes a beeline to the locker room the next morning, frantically tearing through the school hallways in search of Jason. Unfortunately, the best he can do is to run into Oliver and Nate post-shower, flicking each other with wet towels before Eddie coughs and demands their attention.

"Where's Jason?"

"Pissed off the coach so he's doing another lap. Why, backing out of your bet like a pussy?" Nate teases, drawing a howling laugh from Oliver. Not that Eddie cares. It just frustrates him because first period starts in a few minutes and if he's late one more time for chemistry, he knows it's another detention slip being put into his hands.

"Just tell Carver to meet me by the bleachers during lunch. It's important. And yes, it's about the bet."

Eddie thanks god that you don't share any classes with him today. He doesn't think he could stomach it, looking into your innocent eyes and letting you kiss and hold him softly when he doesn't deserve your love.

He feels as if he's in a trance the whole day, going through the motions of life, eyes empty and mind buzzing with static as he nods along to one lecture after another.

The only thing to jolt him awake is when, in between his second and third period, he hears a familiar set of voices whispering from inside the janitor's closet. It's Dustin, Mike and Lucas, with Dustin clearly pained and tired whilst the other two boys whisper frantically amongst themselves.

Privacy be damned, Eddie opens the door and flicks on the light, jaw clenching with anger the moment the small space is enveloped in bright light and he sees the shiny black bruise blossoming on Dustin's forehead.

"What the hell happened?" Eddie quickly questions, closing the door quietly behind him. He's far too tall for the enclosed space, head awkwardly brushing up against the ceiling, his limbs stretching into mops and cleaning supplies, but he can't give a shit. His veins are coursing with anger, worry tightening his chest as he surveys the extent of Dustin's injuries - the curly haired boy only sighing and refusing to meet the senior's gaze.

"Jason Carver happened to him." Lucas cuts in, voice also tense and angry.

"We were hanging out by the entrance and Dustin decided to stand up to Jason and his teammates for bullying us and, well.. he didn't like Dustin's smart mouth." Mike comments quietly.

"So what, that bastard punched you?!" Eddie exclaims, hysterical.

"He didn't punch me, relax. He just knocked me up against the wall and I happened to slam my head against a brick out of place."

"A BRICK?" Eddie screams, causing all of them to cringe at the sudden loud noise. "Shit, Henderson, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, seriously! I mean, just another Monday, right?" Dustin tries to joke, flashing the older boy a reassuring grin. But it does little to quiet Eddie's fury and guilt, not being able to protect his fellow Hellfire Club members in their time of need.

Lunch time rolls around achingly slow, Eddie munching on his homemade sandwich quickly whilst waiting for Jason to show up by the bleachers. The blonde makes his appearance a full ten minutes into lunch, striding across the green fields in large steps with a scowl on his face.

"What's so important you had to cut into my lunch time, huh?" he growls, clearly annoyed.

"I'm calling the bet off."

"Huh?"

"The bet. I'm fucking over it. I don't care about the money. You win, okay? Now let me out."

Eddie attempts to shove past the blonde but it's like walking into a brick wall, Jason's left hand flying up to Eddie's chest to stop him from walking away before shoving him backwards.

"You're backing out now? When prom's just around the corner and you've already got that bitch riding your dick? I'm surprised, freak." he cruelly comments, cocking his head to the side in fake interest.

"Yeah, I'm out. Now let me go."

"I'm just surprised, that's all. Thought you'd stick by the bet, especially with what happened to that twerp this morning. What's his name, Justin?"

"It's Dustin." Eddie grits, fists clenching by his sides.

"Yeah, whatever. You want to give up the money we bet on, cool, whatever. But a part of our deal was that I'd - along with my friends - lay off of your band of freaks. If you want to call off the bet, that offer is also taken off the table."

Jason's words hang in the air, metaphorical black smoke filling Eddie's lungs and restricting his airways. He feels like he can't breathe, hands clawing at his skin, heart beating at a million miles per minute whilst he mulls over the blonde's words.

All he can focus on is the panicked and scared looks on Lucas and Mike's faces, and the shiny bruise on Dustin's forehead. And Eddie's being given the choice for them to not be bullied for the rest of the whole year, to finally not be terrorized every time they walk into school.

"Still want to call off the bet?" Jason mocks, extending a hand forward. "Shake my hand and it's over."

Eddie stares at the blonde's outstretched hand in silence.

He doesn't shake it.

-----------------------------------------

You can barely sit still, the low humming of Billy Joel flowing from your record player barely settling your nerves as you shift back and forth between your bed and the full length mirror in your room, criticizing every stray hem of your dress. There's a quiet set of knocks against your door and you yell out that you're not ready yet, expecting it to be Hopper.

"It's me!" El announces. "I can help you get dressed, if that's okay?"

Dropping your dress onto your bed, you open the door with a large smile, the excited and eager expression on your younger sister's face too sweet to reject. She sits on your bed with her legs dangling off, watching as you hold up different fabrics up to your chest and ask for her approval. After a several tries and pleas for you to "spin around", you two settle on a nice baby blue doll dress with a sweetheart neckline.

"Can I try doing your mascara?" El then asks quietly, pointing to the mess of makeup littered on your vanity. You laugh, nodding, closing your eyes quietly as her shaky hands attempt to carefully brush through your lashes with the wand. To your delighted surprise, she's a master at it, even going so far as to blend out your eyeshadow perfectly when you hand over your brushes to her.

"What shoes are you wearing?" she asks immediately after that, practically bouncing with excitement.

"I'm starting to think you're more excited about me going to prom than I am, El." you tease, opening your closet and pulling out a pair of sparkly white heels.

"Oh, I can't help it!" she gushes. "It's like all the romantic movies I watched, they always end with the girl and the boy going to prom. It's so romantic." she dreamily sighs, landing on your bed with her back on the mattress.

"Does that make me the protagonist?" you joke, strapping on your heels as you lean down towards your feet.

"Duh. And it makes Eddie your love interest."

"Very handsome, very charming, love interest, I'd like to add." Eddie suddenly cuts in, standing behind your door with a smug smile on his face. It fades into a soft, adoring grin when he sees you in your dress, dolled up and pretty yet still so naturally you. He hopes you can't tell that he loses his cool at the sight, voice slightly strained and tips of his ears flushing pink. "You look absolutely gorgeous, princess."

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." you comment, throwing him a flirtatious wink. It's no lie, he cleans up well - the suit is a little awkward on him in some places, but the clean cut look makes his jaw stand out more, lean muscle straining the fabric perfectly.

"Shall we get going, my dear love interest?" you joke, offering one arm forward. El scrambles off your bed to hold open the door for you as Eddie wraps one of his arms around yours, nodding.

"We shall." he puts on a horrible posh accent, making you laugh at his antics. Hopper asks - no, practically demands - to sneak in a couple polaroids of you two together before you're burning with embarrassment and desperately shoving Eddie out the door, calling out to your father that you'd be back by midnight.

By the time the two of you pull up to the gymnasium, the party's already started. You're buzzing with anticipation and nerves when Eddie gently helps you hop off of his van, eyes burning with so much adoration that you can't even meet his gaze without melting.

"Bet you that the punch is gonna suck." he whispers into your ear, the flashing lights overhead blinding your eyes ever so slightly.

"Meh, that's why I did this."

You hike up the skirt of your dress to reveal a bottle of vodka strapped to your thigh, Eddie watching in awe as you twist off the red metal cap and pour him a shot into a red solo cup.

"God, I fucking love you." he moans, practically whining it against your lips. You smirk.

"I know."

Eddie's not thinking of anything but how beautiful you look - so carefree, hands thrown up in the air, bubbly laughter erupting from your throat when he dips you or tugs you towards the food stand - that he doesn't even register Jason and his boys' persistent gazes throughout the night. It's only when you declare that you need some fresh air that he's broken out of his lovesick trance, his jacket finding home on your shoulders as you two lean against the wall of the school building.

"Having too much fun?" Eddie teases, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"Definitely. That, and the three shots of vodka and all the pizza grease is melting my brain."

"Ditto."

Eddie's shoulders tense when he hears sets of footsteps approach, accompanied by the drunken yellings of Jason and his friends. Hands flying to your waist, he pulls you upwards, unreadable expression on his face.

"Let's go back inside." Eddie suddenly hurries out, clearly panicked. You frown, confused.

"We literally just came outside."

"I-I know, but uh, let's go-"

"MUNSON!!!!! There's the man of the hour." Oliver screams, cupping his hands together to amplify his voice across the parking lot. Eddie freezes in place, trapped, as you scowl and cross your arms over your chest.

"Piss off, asshole." you bark back, stepping in front of Eddie protectively.

"Oh, got your little bitch fighting your fights now, impressive. You trained her well, freak." Nate drawls, practically tripping over his words with how drunk he is. Eddie can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears, panic settling in.

"Don't talk about her like that." he manages to choke out, standing up on shaky legs. But he falters under Jason's gaze, green with envy and red hot with anger, as the blonde steps forward in front of his friends.

"Come on, freak, you can drop the act now. You've won the bet, fair and square."

"What bet?" you stumble backwards in shock, frantic eyes flying to Eddie, who is now suddenly refusing to meet your gaze. "Eddie, what's going on?"

"Ah right, of course little miss ice queen would be confused! Let me break it down for you, sweetheart." Jason practically shouts, clapping his hands together with a gleeful smile. "Back in December, your little boyfriend and I waged a bet. This loser thought he could do a better job asking out girls than me, so I said that if he could get your prissy ass to say yes to a date and to prom, he'd win."

"What?"

Eddie doesn't have the courage to look at you. He's sparing himself the trouble of having to see the crestfallen look on your face, of having to actually see for himself the way your hopes come crashing down into a pile of rubble, to be standing in the aftermath of his destruction.

"We're all impressed that he managed to succeed." the blonde jokes, his two friends eagerly nodding from the back. "Guess we underestimated your abilities, freak." Jason reaches forward and punches Eddie in the shoulder, knocking him back against the wall.

"(Y/n), I can explain-" Eddie starts out lowly, but you're not willing to hear any of it. He can see it in your eyes: in a moment's notice, you've pulled back up all your defences, warmth and kindness disappearing behind your walls as your voice drips with venom.

"Fuck off, Munson."

The laughter of the basketball players continuously rings in Eddie's ears as he chases after you, desperately trying to catch up to you as you run across the parking lot.

"Please, just hear me out-"

"NO." you announce firmly, spinning on your heels and staring up at him with burning hatred. You've never stared at him with anything other than fondness and warmth the past few months. It's then gut wrenching that the fury with which you're glaring at him now - the lack of any kind of kindness or playfulness in your eyes - is unprecedented.

"You know, I knew this was too good to be true." you start, voice shaky. "God, you have no idea how many fucking times I found myself thinking throughout the course of our relationship - no, even when we were just fucking friends - that I didn't deserve this. That there was a reason no one wanted to be my friend. But I was a fucking idiot, because-"

You choke on your words, a sob hanging by the edge of your lips, but you bitterly swallow it down. You'd be damned if Eddie gets your tears on top of everything else.

"Because I thought this was my reward. I was thinking, finally, after all these years of suffering, I could get something nice. New friends, new family, a boy who liked me for who I was... But I realize now that I was nothing more than a joke to you. A sleazy bet with the sleaziest douchebags in school."

"(Y/n)-" Eddie tries again, he can feel you slipping through his fingers and it's breaking him, heart aching to just have you in his arms again. But all you do is shake your head sideways, gritting your teeth as you shrug off his jacket and throw the fabric against his chest.

"Don't fucking talk to me again. If you even so much as look at me, I'll ask Hopper to step in."

"At least let me drive you home." he quietly mutters. "You don't even have a car."

"Save it. I'll take the bus."

Eddie stands there staring at his jacket in his hands, your perfume still lingering in the fabric as he watches hopelessly you walk away into the dark woods.

"Fuck." he breathes out, tears stinging his eyes.

He's fucked up. Really, really badly.

------------------------------------

Steve and Robin both glare daggers into Eddie's back as he shuffles through the aisles of Family Video, both of them pretending to be busy when he'd first entered the store and muttered a quiet "hello." They're pissed at him, for good reason, of course, but it's awkward to know that his friends (who are also your friends) have all turned on him.

It's even more awkward having to make excuses as to why you're no longer showing up to band practice or to D&D sessions to the oblivious freshman and his other friends like Jeff and Gareth, who always looked forward to your sarcastic comments and humorous quips to pass the time.

"Just this, please." Eddie says, throwing a VHS tape of Evil Dead onto the counter. Both Steve and Robin stare down at the tape, then at Eddie, before resuming their conversation behind the counter as if they've never seen him. Eddie rolls his eyes, suppressing a deep sigh.

"Come on guys, this is childish. This isn't even for me, this is for Gareth."

"Then why didn't he come here and rent it himself?" Robin interrogates, tone harsh and dry.

"Got held up doing house chores by his mom. Just scan this damn thing, I'll pay, and I'll be right out of your eyesight, okay?" Eddie's practically pleading at this point and Robin sends Steve a knowing look, forcing the other boy to jump off of his seat and begin to mindlessly scan the tape.

"That'll be $2.50."

In between the painfully awkward and silent transaction, Eddie's looking at everywhere but his friends' faces. Their silent frustration, disapproval and disappointment is too heavy to bear, alongside the heavy guilt and crushing depression he's been experiencing the past two weeks since prom.

"Why'd you do it?" Steve blurts out mid-handing off the tape to Eddie, causing Robin to slap her best friend across the shoulder for his outburst.

"What?"

"I just, I don't get it. It doesn't make sense. I saw - we both saw -" Steve gestures to Robin, sending her a warning glare. "How you looked at (Y/n). How you spoke about her. How much you loved her. What'd you even bet for?"

Pocketing the tape into his back pocket, Eddie sighs slowly, contemplating whether or not to tell them the truth. But hell, he's got nothing to lose at this point, he figures.

"Happened over a weed dealing. I was just talking shit, really, because Jason's ego was bruised after being rejected by (Y/n). We bet over me being able to successfully ask her out to a date and then to prom. If I won, the conditions were that Jason would buy for double - and I knew that Wayne was tight on money, and the trailer's been long overdue for a fix. And he also, uh... said if I won the bet, he'd stop bothering me and my friends."

Eddie doesn't notice it, because he's staring down at his hands whilst rambling, but Steve and Robin exchange a sympathetic glance as Eddie continues to pour his heart out.

"I tried pulling out a million times. But for one reason or another, I could never do it. I was a coward, don't get me wrong, but... when she told me she loved me, I knew it'd gone too far. I was so intently committed to breaking the bet off, consequences and money be damned, but then I saw Henderson had a bruise on his face from Jason roughing him up." Eddie swallows nervously, throat feeling prickly and dry. "I couldn't back out of it then. I didn't want any of the kids to get more hurt when I could prevent it."

"Oh, Eddie..." Robin says quietly, placing a warm hand on his arm. He only shakes her off though, forced grin pulling his lips apart.

"It's whatever. Point is, regardless of good intentions or bad circumstances, I was a fucking coward. And a liar. And an asshole. I broke her heart and I deserve all the bad things in the world for that."

"Does she know any of this?" Steve presses, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"No. I haven't spoken to her since prom. Never even so much as drove past her home. Pretty sure Hopper would shoot my tires flat if I tried, anyways." Eddie weakly jokes.

"You should tell her. If not for you, than for her. She deserves to know the truth."

The metalhead only sighs at that, shaking his head lightly in denial.

"She already knows the truth, Steve."

"Not the bet, but the reasons behind the bet. Your feelings through out the whole thing. How you tried to pull out but you couldn't. I mean the whole truth, Eddie." Steve insists, unwavering.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with this loser." Robin dryly comments, flicking Steve's forehead. Steve scowls at that, sending the brunette girl a playful glare before turning around to stare at Eddie.

"Seriously. Let her know the truth. It'll both do you good."

"If I were you though, I'd bring chocolates as a peace offering or something, because I did hear that Hopper got a new rifle last week." Robin adds, swinging her legs off the counter as Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Gee, thanks, Buckley."

"Don't sweat it, Munson."

"....Thanks." Eddie quietly whispers, genuinely touched by his friends' advice. Their words continue to replay in his mind like a broken record on his drive back home and out of the corner of his eyes, Eddie continues to see a phantom outline of you. Sitting next to him, singing from the driver's seat, hair being ruffled from the open window.

You're still haunting him, he still can't stop thinking about you. Mulling it over, he realizes that the least he can do is to try. Try and talk to you, to iron things out.

He just hopes you're willing to listen.

---------------------------------------

Eddie doesn't think he's ever felt this nervous before.

Standing by your front porch, throwing small pebbles at your bedroom window late at night, hoping that you notice the odd sounds and look outside. It's weird - a part of him is screaming at him to run away, that this was a mistake and that he should run into his van and drive home right now. But there's another part of him, one which is stronger and louder, reminding him that he has to explain himself to you.

He sees you lean out your window with a confused expression on your face, eyes scanning the night sky and trees before landing on his figure. You roll your eyes and slam your window shut, forcing him to escalate his plan.

The next time Eddie's knocking on your window he's precariously balancing on the slippery roof tiles, gripping onto your windowsill for dear life and hoping you have enough mercy in your heart to let him in. You're still scowling when you open your window back up, but this time there's a hint of care and worry in your eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing? You got a death wish, Munson?" you hiss, careful to not wake anyone else in the house.

"Well you weren't going to let me in the normal way, so I had to do the next best thing." he weakly offers, fingers turning white. "Are you going to let me in so I don't die, then?"

You click your tongue, swearing under your breath.

"Just because I don't want to attend your fucking funeral." you warn, stepping back and letting him climb in through your window. He practically falls onto the floor face first, limbs awkwardly tumbling forward, his left arm catching his fall ever so slightly in an effort to save the bouquet of flowers and chocolate from getting crushed.

"H-here." he shakily offers them by thrusting the items into your hands, which you cautiously take before throwing it behind you on the bed.

"Thanks. You can leave now."

"Wait, wait, wait-" he rushes to block off your access to the door before you can push him out the bedroom, making you stomp your feet in frustration.

"What, Eddie? I'm fucking tired, it's a Wednesday night, for fuck's sake."

"I know you don't want to talk to me. But it's fucking killing me that you don't even know the whole story. Please, hear me, out. Just five minutes, and if you still want me to leave, I... I will."

You should be laughing at his face. You should be your usual coldhearted self, uncaring smirk lacing your lips as you shove him out the front door and throw the flowers and chocolate back onto his chest. But you can't find it in yourself to do so.

Damn Eddie Munson and his handsome face, you think. You also can't deny the lingering affection you hold for him, and fuck... you have missed him. Greatly. The amount of times you've cried in the past two weeks is a testament to that.

The worst harm's already been done, you think. Might as well hear him out.

"Fine. You've got five minutes." you say, and you can see his face light up visibly with joy and relief.

"Thank you. The bet, listen, it... it happened during a drug deal. Jason was pissed that you'd rejected him and I was just trying to push his bottoms and toy with his fragile ego by boasting that I could probably be better with girls than him. He knew that I was having money issues and the trailer needed to be fixed, so he cut me a deal. If I got you to say yes to a date, then he'd start paying double for our weed dealings." Eddie rushes out, speaking so fast that he has to catch a deep breath in between.

"Then I added I wanted him to stop bothering me and my friends at school. Especially now that I got the freshman kids to look out for, I just wanted his word that he'd stop bothering them all. In return for that, however, it was additionally agreed that I'd also have to get you to say yes to prom."

"That's... oddly sweet of you. Kind of." you mutter, thoughts running a million miles per hour at the revelation. You figured that the bet was just a joke to exploit you. Not something Eddie agreed to in an effort to protect his uncle and his friends.

"It's really not, because I hurt you. I knew from the beginning that this was wrong. I had this persistent, sick, stabbing sensation in my stomach all throughout our friendship that this was wrong. I tried to lie to myself that I hadn't done anything bad yet, because we hadn't even started dating, but I knew it was only a matter of time before we became real. And once that happened, I..." he chuckles sadly, gaze lowering to the floor.

"I liked the illusion of us together too much to pull back. The bet was always lingering in the back of my mind, sure. But I liked you too much. I love you too much. So I ignored it. Even if it was fake, it felt real whenever I got to hold you and kiss you."

He runs a quick hand through his hair before resuming.

"And then the night that you told me you loved me, I panicked. It was like I was finally awake, like icy cold water had been dumped over my head and I saw what a fucked up mess I'd gotten us into. I told Jason the next day that the bet was off, but... he held the end deal of our bargain over my head. The part about no longer bullying my friends. And Dustin had gotten a black eye that morning from a rough altercation with Jason and I... I didn't end up backing out of the deal because of that. But I tried to get out. God, I tried many, many times. Maybe not as strongly as I should've, but there were numerous times where I tried to get out of the deal." Eddie affirms, pleading.

"So... all of that. All the lying, all the secrets, all the play pretend... was it worth it?" you whisper out loud, hands clutching at your sides as you hug yourself and look up at him.

"Yes." Eddie responds automatically, confident. "Because it meant I got to have you. And I never faked my feelings for you. Not even once. That was all, always, genuine."

You're left to stare at him in silence, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you reflect over his words, Eddie taking in shallow breaths as he carefully surveys your reaction. He can't read your mind right now, he so badly wishes he could see what you're thinking because your expression is kept tight and neutral through it all.

"Do you... still want me to leave?" he whispers quietly. You don't speak, you don't nod nor deny him, you just continue to stare at him with a blank expression.

It's enough of an answer for him.

"You do, huh?" he chuckles, the sound as hollow as his heart. "It's fine, I uh, knew you wouldn't want me again after this. But you... you deserved to know the truth. Again, I'm so sorry for hurting you. I love you though. And I never lied about that."

He's hoping that you're going to stop him from leaving. That this is going to be the breakthrough moment in those romantic films, where you cut him off from speaking with a fierce kiss and whisper forgiveness against his lips, pinning him against the door.

But you don't even twitch. You just silently nod, unreadable expression on your face, and let him brush past you and walk down the stairs silently.

Eddie's heart stills feels heavy, grieving the loss of you and your love. But his shoulders feel ever so lighter, knowing that he's done the right thing by apologizing and explaining himself. He still feels like shit, he still thoroughly plans on smoking at least two packs when he gets back to his trailer, but he feels like he can breathe a tiny bit easier now.

"Wait."

Your voice suddenly rings out from behind him, your front door hanging open behind you as you've clearly ran through the house in a rush. Eddie jumps up in surprise, bewildered that you've chased him down the stairs.

"Y-yeah?" he stumbles out, pulling away from his van door.

"I forgive you. Sort of, I mean, it'll take a while for me to get over it and to fully trust you again but I... I still love you. Do you still love me too?" you whisper, doubtful.

Eddie almost wants to laugh at that question: that you'd even think for a second that he's spent any moment of the past two weeks being anything but in love with you.

"Of course I do, princess. Never stopped."

"Then that's all that matters."

This kiss tastes and feels totally new. Salty tears, mint toothpaste, your shaky fingers grabbing his as Eddie pulls you in impossibly close.

He's trying to memorize every aspect of you, having been starved of your presence for too long, committing every single aspect of you to memory. How you taste against his lips. How your body fits right against his when he places an arm around your waist. How your hair tickles his neck from this angle, moonlight shining a halo around the crown of your head.

You try to pull away a few times to catch your breath, but he doesn't let you, your giggles being swallowed by another needy kiss.

Eddie doesn't ever want to lose you again. Not even for a second.

a/n: if anybody actually read to the end of this story... thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart. This story has been a true labor of love, sweat and tears and countless hours of work. Whilst I was re-editing this I realized I kind of don't like how it turned out but I worked so hard on it and I already announced I was gonna post it so here it goes, I guess.

I've had this concept of a social outcast x Eddie reader with a enemies to lovers trope thrown in for a while so I'm just glad that I got it out my system. Totally nervous and completely unsure of how this will be received (my longest fic to date) but it's out now. Thank you for reading ❣️

22K notes · View notes

candyk0rn · 9 months

Note

Hello, I hope you’re having a fantastic day today :) please could I request headcanons of Astarion, Gale and Halsin having a crush on Tav/Reader who is shy and insecure 💙💙

Shy-Bg3

Hello! Thank you so much for the request, and I hope you’re having a great day too!!

Before reading: Gn!reader, shy + insecure reader, Astarion x reader, Halsin x reader, Gale x reader

Also sorry for the wait, I’ve been increasingly busy!!

Astarion:

At first, he finds you almost pathetic

Perhaps it’s his way of not seeing himself within you, knowing he used to be just as fearful and timid

He feels a strong duty to protect you the closer you get to him

At first, he uses you as merely a flesh shield lmao

We all know the story, he uses you for protection, although meek you were always considered a stronger type

And his one rule was to not fall for you: that was his number one rule

But of course that all goes to shit pretty quickly

On the topic of insecurities, he knows all too well the feelings you feel

It’s honestly a plus, having someone that just knows

He’s so stupidly in love with you, for a moment he thinks he’s going mad

He’s never met someone as reserved and soft-spoken as you, he thinks it’s great company

After all, opposites attract, right?

Gale:

Like Astarion, he actually is comforted by your shy and quiet nature

He’d much rather stay home in his tower at Waterdeep, away from society

For that is how he lived for quite some time

I’d say Gale is also rather reserved, only opening up to those he trusts

And it just so happens, he learned to trust you more than anyone

Ever since he told you about the orb that was launched into his chest, the way you insisted upon finding another way to save him

It sent his heart to the skies, I stg

Your shy personality is endearing to him, because if you ever need him to speak up for anything he is so willing

Also, in those moments where you have to interact with someone unknown or unfamiliar, he always offers his hand as comfort

Ugh I love that stupid wizard

Halsin:

I don’t think anyone will get mad at me if I say out of these three

Halsin is the best in the situation

Halsin is the best in most situations let’s be real

He’s the most calm and soothing when it comes to your personality

If you ever ever need to be taken somewhere else, if you’re ever too nervous to be around people

He simply excuses you and him both from whatever conversation or interaction is going on

Something that seems so difficult for you, is so easy for him

And he gladly does it each time

Halsin has a very keen eye, he knows every move you make, every fight of your fingers, every worried flutter of your eyes

He knows when and where to comfort every time

In terms of your insecurity, he’s also extremely helpful on that

He always knows just what to say

The perfect man fr

Thank you for reading!

#x reader #fanfic #fyp #candyk0rn #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate gale #Baldurs Gate halsin #astarion x reader #Gale x reader #halsin x reader #x you #x tav #tav #bg3 tav

999 notes · View notes

fruitsofhell · 4 months

Text

I used to be one of those guys when I first joined the Kirby fandom, but everytime I hear a discussion of the series writing that starts with "So the Lore is InSaNe-" and not like, "Kirby has a fun writing style that takes advantage of its cute exterior to tell cool stories that reward player's curiosity and leave lots of room for imagination-" I cringe so goddamn hard.

I kinda just hate that people approach things that encourage investment when they don't expect it as inherently absurd. Like it is fun to joke about how absurd Kirby lore can be, but it really often comes with an air of disrespect or exhaustion rather than like, appreciation that these games are made by people who want to tell interesting stories when they could easily make as much money just making polished enough fluffy kiddy platformers. And when it's not met with exhaustion, it's met with - like I said before - that tone that it's stupid for a series like this TO have devs who care about writing stuff for it. Which is a whole other thing about people not respecting things made to appeal to kiddie aesthetic or tone.

Maybe the state of low-stakes YouTube video essays just blows cause people play up ignorance and disbelief for engagement, but like I STG I hear people use this tone for like actual narrative based games sometimes. Some people don't like... appreciate when a game is made by people who care a shitton in ways that aren't direct gameplay feedback. And they especially don't appreciate it when it comes from something with any sense of tonal dissonance intentional or not.

Anyways, I love games made by insane people. I love games made by teams who feel like they wanna make something work or say something so bad. I love that energy, especially when invested into something that could easily rest on its laurels or which obviously won't be taken seriously. I love this in a lot of classic campy 2000s games, I love this in insanely niche yet passionate fanworks, and I love it in the Kirby series and its writing. Can we please stop talking about it like it's an annoyance or complete joke?

#shut the heck up #kirby #kirby lore #fandom #midnight rambles #im quite talkative today cause my rambling bestie is busy #im also bitter cause im too burnt out to make the things i want to properly express my adoration for this series #but i can waffle about it ig #ive been relying on prose and essay ro express myself a lot in leiu of my usual creative outlets...#i always wanted to make a video edsay series about kirby lore with this expressed ethos #maybe i should just start with essay-essays somewhere #still need to replay all the games for that first though #more streams coming up eventually i swear #tag talking #i read a cool analytical article today that had the same tone as a video essay and i was like 'ah thats the origin of the essay part'#so now i wanna explore that world more of article game and media journalism and such

159 notes · View notes

everythingne · 1 month

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ out of the woods - chapter eight (ls2)

Dhanishka makes a difficult decision, but after 76 days, finds its hard to stay away from both her boyfriend and the world that raised her. So, she decides to make the comeback no one was expecting--but hoping for.

tws/notes: like one breakdown but shes chill, logan and isa are my kids i stg

(series masterlist) (last chapter)

dhanishkadubey

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, logansargeant and 987k others...

dhanishkadubey: As of this morning, I have chosen to fully step away from Formula One. It has been a long and hard conversation with my friends and family for the past two weeks, but alas, this entire situation and investigation are too much for me to handle at the moment along with continuing to race with Ferrari. That, plus my worsening injuries, are the main reasons I have decided I will be retiring as of today.

Ferrari will forever hold a special place in my heart. They are the ones who have trusted me since back in F2 to represent them in their Junior Drivers Academy, and since that day they have always been my family.

To Charlie, or Chuck, thank you from the bottom of my heart for bringing me in. Thank you for always supporting me. The amount of things you have done for me are immeasurable, I cannot thank you enough for everything. Aiya says that there's a seat for you at our table next time you're in Bahrain.

To Logan, it has been a wonderful experience to fall back in love with you. Funnily enough, you're sleeping on my shoulder as I write this. If I had to do it all again knowing what would happen, I would come back to F1 over and over if it meant every time I got to have you in my arms again.

To Olivia and Lando, thank you both for the support. From me crying on your shoulders at 3am over stupid boys (sorry logan), to both of you supporting me in this insane moment of my life. I owe you both a big bottle of wine and maybe a whole vacation after this.

And Thank you to all of the other people who spent their days with me uplifting me, working hard to support me, and being absolute angels. From fans to my own managers and trainers and PR, thank you, all of you.

Oh, and best of luck little bearman, you'll be amazing ! ❤️

Forza Ferrari, upward and onward from here.

comments have been disabled for this post!

My hands haven't stopped moving in hours. Each dish has been meticulously polished to perfection, my hands cramping from the force I apply.

"Babli." My mother comes up behind me, taking my hands in hers and squeezing them, "they're going to be packed away, [no need to wash them so hard.]"

"[Sorry, Mom.]" I huff, setting the sponge down and rolling out my wrists and stretching my hands, "I just... it's been..."

"A lot. [I know. You have been so strong, Babli.]" She smiles, kissing my forehead, and the use of my childhood nickname--something they had stopped calling me after Trident's incident, made my heart ache. She coaxes me to go sit back down at the table and I do, leaning my head into my hands as I open my laptop again. The notes Olivia had taken from my meeting with the FIA staring back at me.

'Purposefully loose bolts on DRS connectors. Break lines partially slashed. Paid around 10.000 Pounds per incident. Astrid Marina. Anthony Davis.'

I groan and begin typing back responses to her questions. This is being taken a bit further. Now William's is fully suing Anthony Davis for blackmailing, with me sort of 'curtopsey copied' on it. I was in a mess with Ferrari right now, so I didn't feel like dealing with another court case on top of that.

Or, moreso, the break I had after the Canadian GP was so bad I was forcibly sent home.

I can hear the Austrian GP playing on the TV. Anya cursing in a mish-mash of languages at Carlos for fucking up his drive or something, and I slam my laptop shut with more force than necessary.

"Dhanishka!" My mother goes to scold me until she sees I've stood, hand tight on the top of my laptop as I stare at the TV in a mix of anger and... regret?

"Danny?" Anya's muted the TV, turning to look at me and there's something in my chest that just snaps and I burst into tears. I hadn't cried once in the past few weeks of absolute hell, between everything with Ferrari, choosing to leave Formula One for the foreseeable future... it was a fucking mess.

And I'd done so well at holding everything together. I'd fooled everyone, even myself, into thinking I was fine.

My mother pauses washing the dishes as I scoop up my stuff and retreat to the safety and solitude of my childhood bedroom. Screaming in some sort of anguish as I drop my stuff on my desk and just drop to my knees.

My head had been a non-stop migraine for weeks, my ribs had been a constant ache, my shoulder only getting worse. I spent every day in long meetings that only made me more and more lost in my situation.

"Anya, [I told you not to do that and you did! Just watch it in your room!] You knew it would upset her!" My mother's voice rings from the hall until I hear my bedroom door creak open and then feel my mothers hands on my sides. She gently lifts me up and then sets me on the bed, leaning down to grab one of Logan's hoodies I'd stolen so I could throw it on.

She doesn't say anything, just kisses my hair and leaves me to sniffle it out as I wipe at my tears.

She comes back with some tomato rasam, urging me to eat it to calm my body down, and she soothes a hand through my hair and braids it while I shakily spoon the soup like dish to my lips. When I'm finished, my mother kisses my head and at my seemingly calm nature now, she leaves me be to the solitude of my room.

I don't know how long it's been until I hear shuffling in the hall again, but I've retreated to laying tucked as tight as I can be in my blankets.

"Babli..?" My fathers voice calls from the door and I huff, burying myself deeper in the blankets. he must've gotten home from work during my rush to my room to hide the tears that threatened to fall. He knocked once, then twice, then on the third he just chose to enter my room. It took him a moment to spot me amidst my blankets, but when he did he smiled and made his way over.

"Sorry I missed dinner, [I had to pick up a package on the way back from work.]" He smiles softly, sitting on the edge of the bed to pop down a little cardboard box, "[For you, babli.]

I sit up and wipe at my face, noticing how my father had used a marker to cover the shipping address. But I swore I could read a little bit of 'FL' on it. I gently open the box with the letter opener he hands me and find a little Williams logo looking right up at me on the back of an envelope. I laugh softly and take out the card, opening the envelope to find the card inside.

‘Isa,

I hope this reaches you before the end of Austria! If not, it’s still quite cute I think. Alex and Lily have these and I figured it’d be cute for us to get them too. Also, the Williams team has sent you a little blue care package to life up your spirits :)

see you in Austin baby, love you to the edge of the universe and back.

- Lo.’

I set the card aside with a wobbly smile and open the first layer of packaging to find a small black box. Slowly opening it, I’m met with two things, a red string bracelet and a small bracelet. I pull both items out and twist them in my hands before adding them to my right arm stack.

A logo on the bracelet, totwoo, catches my eye and I quickly Google it.

It’s a fucking touch band. A long distance bracelet you can press to send a signal to, and as I hear the announcer speaking to Logan I nearly throw myself out of bed trying to get to the TV.

And when the bracelet lights up on my wrist, it takes a second, before I see Logan pressing it on the tv. Three short taps. I love you.

Tears spill out of my eyes before I can explain to my family, but they see my wobbly smile and understand that for the first time in nearly three weeks, my tears are good. My father brings the box to the living room and hands me a second letter, explaining the two items and my heart swells again.

'and a red string! I've got one too. I think we were always destined to be together.'

The bracelets, plus the little dolphin plushie his niece said he had to buy me (with its fucking Miami Dolphins jersey because of course) makes my heart so full, I feel the ice that threatened to hide me melting.

dhanishkadubey

liked by williamsracing, logansargeant, oliviapiastri-norris, and 678k others...

dhanishkadubey: after six weeks i think i've started to heal. [i love you, bahrain <3]

tagged: anyadubey, totwoo, logansargeant

user1: LOGAN AND DHANISHKA HAVING LONG DISTANCE BRACELETS. SHOOT ME. OMG.

anyadubey: so glad to have u home habibti <3

totwoo: seeing love from austria to bahrain in real time!

user2: dhanishka leaving f1 makes me so sad but im glad shes glowing now <3

logansargeant: tbh i think this is the most i've ever missed you?

dhanishkadubey: stop ill start crying :( ft me

dhanishkadubey

liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, alexalbon, and 569k others..

dhanishkadubey: some all new bts from my shoot with @ vogueindia x @ sabyasachi !! such a blessing to get to work with the amazing @ opheliapiastry , sabyasachi team, and the vogue india team ! [much love 🩵🤍 can’t wait for you all to see the final product !]

tagged: opheliapiastri, vogueindia, sabyasachi

sabyasachi: [an honor to work with you!]

anyadubey: i was there for this and im still just. jaw dropped, on the floor. wow

logansargeant: anya how do you think i feel?

anyadubey: simp.

user2: i need to see dhanishka back in a race car or ill die

—

Oscar and Lando have done a pretty good job of hiding me while interviews are going on. Logan had done exceptionally well, placing top five, and I'm trying my hardest not to let my excitement get out of me early.

"Fucking Jenson-- hurry it up, man, we can only stand here for so long without looking weird." Lando complains and I stifle a laugh while Oscar whacks his chest. The sound draws Jenson and Logan to peek over, luckily I'm able to hide before they see us--or before Logan does. Because Jenson grins and nods to Oscar, who leans back partially.

"That might be your cue, Danny."

I poke my head out to see Logan has his back to me and smirk, running over as fast as I can without alerting him. Jenson, thankfully, keeps Logan distracted until I place my hands over his eyes.

"Yo, what?!" Logan laughs, grabbing my wrists and accidentally pressing the button on my bracelet, making his buzz. He pauses, presses it again while I hold in a laugh and the cameraman adjusts his angle to get Logan's reaction as he turns around.

"Isa!" he shouts, nearly knocking me off my feet with the force of his hug and I laugh now, wrapping my arms tightly around him as he hides his face in the crook of my neck.

"Hi, jaan." I whisper, feeling his arms tighten around me as I close my eyes and snuggle into his hold. One of my hands comes to take off his hat that's stabbing my shoulder so I can run my hand through his longer hair as I rest my cheek against his head.

Through a slightly teary strain he murmurs, "God, I fucking missed you so much."

"I missed you too." I whisper back, "and, I might've told James to go ahead and announce it."

"No." He leans back, holding my face and looking at me for any sign of a lie. When all he gets is a smile he starts to laugh and pulls me in for probably the softest kiss that we've shared.

"Yep." I say in response and he presses another kiss to my head, before turning back to Jenson who smiles like a proud father.

logansargeant

liked by jensonbutton, oscarpiastri, williamsracing, and 876k others...

logansargeant: a great surprise to end off a great weekend, i love you, i'm so proud of you, and thank you for everything, meri jaan 🩵

dhanishkadubey: MERI JAANNNNNNN <3

logansargeant: MERI JAANNN

user1: f1s number one power couple fr

dhanishkadubey: also this is YOUR WEEKEND MR P4???!!!!!!

user2: logan's face when he saw dhanishka im gonna cry

user3: get urself a girlfriend who leaves from her modeling gig to surprise you just because

williamsracing: it was lovely to have a bit of the future with us this weekend 💙 (iykyk)

user4: williams what does this MEAN???

liked by dhanishkadubey, logansargeant, and jensonbutton, 998k others...

f1: 76 days after announcing her 'retirement' from F1, Williams has signed @ dhanishkadubey on to drive with them for the 2025 season.

user1: YESSSSSSS WILLIAMS WILL THRIVE!!!

user2: logan went 'nah y'all aren't gonna treat my gf like this' and got her ass in williams

taglist (thank you !)

@nichmeddar @shineforever19 @d3kstar @chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia @daemyratwst

27 notes · View notes

transmutationisms · 1 year

Note

I feel like this is likely a bat to a hornet's nest topic but I deeply respect your takes and thoughts overall a lot so here goes: I really appreciate that the show frankly goes out of its way to not pathologize its characters and lets the audience sit with them in the context of their own lives. So I'm kind of baffled that so much focus is given to "diagnosing" them in fan discussions, the vast brunt of which Kendall gets. I don't understand how you can watch this show and understand him as someone who's been heavily abused and had his reactions to being abused weaponized against him and come away being like "wow it's so cringe he acts like that, he must have a brain disease and is just too stupid to understand that. every action he takes is because he is manic/depressed/letting the disease manifest. if only he took the good moral Legal drugs that I do instead of the ontologically bad ones that are Illegal and for dirty addicts. hopefully one day he will Get Help and Receive Treatment so he will be more palatable (no whatever he's done up to this point doesn't count because it didn't work which must inherently be due to his own moral failings)." How did a show like this attract so many Reganites??

bat at a hornets' nest yes. yeah i've said before that i dislike diagnosing fictional characters as a general rule. it's tautological ("they do [x] because they have [y], and they have [y] because they do [x]") and abrogates further analysis of their motives or the meanings of their actions. and it's doubly irksome to me with succession, because unlike a lot of tv, i genuinely don't think that it's written within the weltanschauung of dsm neurobio determinism. ie, it's not a show where the answer to "why did he do that?" is ever supposed to be "his brain is just like that"—these actions are supposed to mean something about what the character wants and needs, and the effect of the capitalist milieu on those things. it's psychological, not psychiatric (& of course, psychoanalytic approaches are common in formal literary studies, whereas blunt psychiatric diagnosis is decidedly less so).

with kendall's drug use there are some particularly irritating ways this all plays out. i've been fiddling with my own reading emphasising the context of logan's demands on kendall and the construction of bourgeois masculinity, and have tried to place kendall's drug use as a response to neoliberal control mechanisms à la deleuze or foucault. i could certainly be challenged on elements of this reading, but what i see on this website is generally just an endless slog of very biomedicalised reads that seem to have no awareness of the particular historical and social baggage present in that model. i do agree there's an element of reactionary DARE-esque moralising going on here (stg if i have to read one more post written by someone who, like, has never so much as met a coke user and thinks all drugs instantaneously give you irreversible morally weighted heart damage, lmao), but it's honestly not just that.

i think most of the time when people do this they're not trying to be reactionary or regressive, and often they not only don't believe themselves to be moralising affective distress, but actually think the dsm diagnosis is the way to avoid that type of moralisation. this is essentially the "it's a discrete disease entity, so they have no control over it and can't help it, so it's not their fault" argument. in practice this fails on many levels. for one thing, it often implicitly assumes that 'ending the stigma' requires any kind of mental disability or affective distress to be treated analogously to physical disability or illness, as though those latter are not also consistently stigmatised and moralised—because ableism is actually more complex than that and has to do with the fact that capitalism values people on the basis of the 'use' it can make of them and their bodies, etc etc. it is also, again, a wildly decontextualised understanding of affective distress, the reasons why people use drugs—including in a manner that feels compulsive and out of control—and so forth.

i'll add also that wrt succession, i actually do see a LOT of pathologisation thrown at roman as well, and more than an incidental amount directed at connor, tom, shiv, and logan. which is to say, i don't think this is solely about people's discomfort with addicts. there's a broad tendency among fans, echoing the even broader social tendency, to see medical diagnosis as personally liberatory, and medicine and psychiatry as passing 'objective' judgments that are necessary in order for a person to 'get better.' this is essentially positivism and is very much a status that the medical profession has fought to obtain (in france you can trace certain 18th-century discourses on national decline, aristocratic luxury, and the corrupting influence of the city -> the birth of clinical medicine after the first revolution -> social hygiene and the pathologisation of the parisian urban poor -> the third republic's 'physician-legislators' and the general class status and professionalisation of medicine; i know less about the gory details of the american and british cases simply by dint of what i do professionally).

we tend to forget these histories when talking about science; it presents itself as a set of timeless, incontrovertible truths that are simply waiting to be uncovered, and we have entire industries of science communication and journalism that propagate this view. which is to say, circling back to succession, i don't believe that most people diagnosing and pathologising these characters are trying to be reactionary or are aware that there are reactionary and moralising elements inherently built into these discourses. i think they're largely people who have not been given the tools to see alternatives, like the perspectives dominant in the history and sociology of science, which are very much kept paywalled and inaccessible on purpose because this is profitable for the academe.

this type of popular literary analysis is simply not going to go anywhere as long as this is still the status and the moral resonance of medicine (and psychiatry by extension because it gained its professional independence without sacrificing the appeal to medico-scientific epistemological authority). i don't think succession viewers are any more or less prone to this type of thinking than the general population they exist amongst. i firmly disagree with this attitude, obviously, and like i said, i don't actually think succession is written 'psychiatrically,' which cannot be said for all tv lol. but i more or less expect to encounter this type of deference to medico-psychiatric judgments in 95% of social interactions and contexts, again because of a combination of institutional control of information, other forms of inaccessibility, and physicians' and psychiatrists' advocacy for their own class and professional interests, both historically and ongoing today.

#psychiatry

185 notes · View notes

yuri-is-online · 11 months

Text

Cat Got Your Tongue? (MMO AU: Leona Kingscholar x Reader)

Master Post for AU: (x) please read for overview and links to other parts.

a/n: Sure Leona says he doesn't like video games but this is my blog and I choose the au. I ended up having to re-write this because the original premise wasn't working but this fits Leona's vibe a bit better. Side note, but I am thinking I'll probably write a sort of part 2 for each of these once I am finished with each of the main "routes" since there was some stuff I wanted to include in this fic but cut because it didn't flow.

notes: They/Them pronouns used for Yuu, loosely inspired by Love is Hard for Otaku and crappy otome games, Leona is a junior and Yuu is a freshman in American college years, some mild Ruggie slander? (he's hustlin and bustlin) Not a lot of gaming in this one sorry.

Sometimes Leona really hates having a functioning brain. Maybe if he had been born comatose his family would have taken time to understand him. Hell maybe he would have understood them. And maybe, maybe if he’d been a bit more stupid, a bit more happy, a bit more inspiring and a bit less morose, someone would have looked his way.

Someone. His bright green eyes settle on a desk strategically chosen in the furthest shadows of the classroom where someone sits. They’re tired, fighting against the eight am death sentence of a class to stay awake and take notes. Nose always at the grindstone with so little in the way of reward, just like always. Sometimes he wonders if they’ve ever noticed his gaze, it’s been on them for a long time creating a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach he’d gladly brush off as disgust to Ruggie when pushed. Not that Ruggie ever pushed hard over something he wasn’t getting paid for and he had enough sense not to laugh at Leona to his face. They both knew it was worry. It was written all over his face and twitching through his tail, they look up to meet his heavy gaze and twitch. A smile works its way to his face involuntarily as he closes his eyes.

He is getting tired of waiting.

~~~

[FC] <Tempura Kun> I STG IM GONNA KERMIT A FELONY

[FC] <Granny Smith> fr?

[FC] <Granny Smith> where we pullin up?

[FC] <Tempura Kun> whatever hole my Algebra TA crawled out of this morning

[FC] <Granny Smith> we pullin out (´×ω×`)

[FC] <Tempura Kun> （πーπ）

[FC] <Tempura Kun> real brave

[FC] <Tempura Kun> ur such a big man

[FC] <Granny Smith> HEY

[FC] <Granny Smith> I thirst for the glory of combat not suicide

[FC] <Gloomy Samurai> whisper or get in a linkshell if you’re just going to bitch and braid each other’s hair

You smother your screams with a pillow as your discord lights up with a call from Epel, which you answer quickly enough it barely gets a chance to ring.

“Just not yer day, huh?” Epel sighs sympathetically, but you know he’s making that stupid smug face of his. “Whatcha do this time?”

“I accidentally gave Dr. Crewel some paperwork dad had me working on and when I tried to explain that to Leona, he laughed at me before I got it all out.” Epel whistles.

“Did you get the papers back?”

“Yeah.” You glare at your monitor as you settle into your desk chair. “Would have been nice to keep my dignity though.” Epel has enough sense to not to tease you more, just inviting you to a party and shooting a message to the guild to see if anyone is up for running a few dungeons while you stew in your frustrations, squishing your pillow and try to avoid reflecting on your day. Realistically speaking it wasn’t that bad. You’ve been pretty lucky in life compared to some people, as your adoptive father is so keen to remind you, he is very generous. He’s paying for you to go to a good school (that he works for so he’s actually just paying for books), he let you keep Grim when pretty much every other foster family you were placed with tried to get rid of him, and you have a pretty solid group of friends left over from highschool. But still, you like to think you have a right to complain about things, what sort of father makes his kid go through zoning laws under the guise of “father child bonding time”? And what sort of teacher’s assistant says that’s not his problem and snarks about taking off points of your actual homework?

Leona Kingscholar apparently, it’s his idea of a joke. By the day after tomorrow he’ll be back to his lazy self, slapping a half assed grade on your homework with a bunch of snarky commentary that’s surprisingly helpful when you go to amend your notes. Assuming he doesn’t hijack your table in the library to take a nap first. He’s a pain in your ass, and the worst part is you really don’t know why. Leona’s a junior, you think anyway, and outside of his job as a teacher’s assistant you don’t have any shared classes. Epel plays on the Spelldrive team, talks him up pretty much every chance he gets, so you guess he’s pretty good at that if nothing else. Maybe he’s mad at you on Epel’s behalf? He invites you to their games sometimes, but you never go because you’re too afraid of the crowds. The thought makes you huff in frustration as Rex and Snake join your party and begin bickering about what to que for; that’s between you and Epel, what’s his captain got to say about any of that? What does he want to do, show off?

[FC] <Snake Whisper> Tempura you still good to heal? Gran said you were stressed.

[FC] <Tempura Kun> I’ll stress more if I make you heal lol

[FC] <Tempura Kun> Thanks for asking <3

[FC] <Snake Whisper> σ(^○^)

[FC] <Snake Whisper> You’re good

You stretch and do your best to pop your neck.

Vivat Rex >> You shouldn’t stress about making him heal if you’re tired. It’s ok to take a break.

Tempura Kun >> lol I like heals I’ll be good promise

Tempura Kun >> ty for worrying tho <3 <3

Vivat Rex >> <3 ofc can’t have our only competent heals falling over dead

Tempura Kun >> HA i’m telling Nautilus u said that

Vivat Rex >> (^_~) punk ass bitch deserves it

The instance cuts off your reply and you settle into your chair determined to enjoy the hour and a half you set aside for yourself today before you have to go back to being an overworked unpaid student. Before you have to go back to trying to convince your friend Ruggie that you have a friend named Rex who is real and not a figment of your imagination that lives in your computer caused by dehydra- wait. Your eye twitches settling on the date and time mocking you from the lower right of your second monitor.

“Epel.”

“Hm?”

“I need you to go wall to wall or I’m gonna be late for work.”

~~~

“Finally.” Ruggie gives an exaggerated stretch as he yawns. You sigh to yourself in relief that he isn’t too upset that you’re a few minutes late, you know Ruggie’s a busy guy from the few closing shifts you’ve worked together. He’s one of the few people you feel actually respects your situation, if the side hustles he kicks your way are anything to go by anyway. You’d hate for him to think you’re ungrateful for his help. “I’m practically dead on my feet here, took you long enou-” You pause in tying your apron, unsure of why he’s staring into you so disapprovingly you almost swear he’s been replaced by Leona. Almost. His signature laugh is too unique.

“Stuff it.” You scowl and his laughter gets louder and it’s a wonder his tail doesn’t knock any of the cigarettes off the back counter shelves.

“Oh you look disgusting.” He fishes his phone out of his back pocket as he clocks out, checking it just out of your view as you try to salvage your pride and settle into your seat.

“You don’t look so hot yourself either.”

“Yeah at least I don’t look like a truck hit me and backed up to make sure it finished the job.” He looks somewhat serious for a brief second. “When was the last time you actually ate food?”

“Before I came here?”

“Instant noodles don't count.” Your silence is speaking volumes you don’t have the strength to combat and Ruggie sighs.

“I know I’m one to talk, but you should really get some rest.” His lips quirk into a grin for half a second, quick enough to have missed if you had blinked as if he remembered something amusing. “Unless you’re angling for someone to force you.”

“Like a health professional? You know the old crow will just look for a second opinion.” Ruggie lightly flicks your shoulder while he continues to focus on his phone on the way out the door.

“You mean thirty-second.” He doesn’t even look up to say goodbye. “Well I’m out! Try not to scare off the customers.” If you had to regularly interact with customers you would not have taken this shift. Epel had given you a hard time about that, something about personal safety being more important than sanity.

[FC] <Granny Smith> not what I said

[FC] <Granny Smith> u should at least have someone visit when ur alone on shift

And you did sometimes. Ace likes to drop by after practice, and Epel hadn’t said that with the intention of not showing up himself. Jack and Deuce probably would have visited even if you were on a daylight shift, not that Jack would ever admit to checking up on you outloud. But it was still very much only a sometimes thing, not that they didn’t care or worry they just had lives. Most of your time at the convenience store was spent alone scrolling through magicam on your phone, only looking up to ring up a hoard of energy drinks for whoever was just as tired as you were. Though maybe not today, Rex had tried to convince you to just call out. He always does, complaining about how he’d have to run things with Nautilus now, but he might have had a point today. The chair you and Ruggie snuck behind the counter is not remotely comfortable but you swear it feels like a cloud. You tried to focus on your magicam feed, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the fan art Gloomurai posted of the First Fantasia Knight Commander. If anything it just made you sleepier, like he was personally inviting you to take a nap on his lap or something. Your eyes shut and your phone drops out of your hand. When you finally wake up you swear it has only been a minute at most but the smug look of your customer suggests otherwise.

“Morning sunshine.” Leona looks painfully out of place in this shitty college convenience store. The dingey, twitching light barely bounces off his hair and you swear his clothes have to cost more than all the electronic equipment in the place combined, maybe even more than your computer back home. An odd thought to have, he’s literally just wearing the same kind of athleisure wear you had been wearing almost twenty minutes ago while gaming, but you recognize the branding on that shirt from a rant Ruggie went on a month ago. Something about wondering why anyone would pay that much money to leave the house looking stupid in cheetah print. “Are you even listening to me?” Leona drawls, lazy and the slightest bit disappointed, he has been talking to you since you woke up you belatedly realize and completely fail to hide the fact. Leona sighs, tail thrashing in annoyance as he moves to join you behind the counter. “Whatever, just move over.” You almost fall off your chair.

“What? No no no this is an employee only zone you cannot take a nap back here.” You have no idea how Leona is expecting to fall asleep, even if you’ve tripped over him on the campus lawn before you’re sure the green has to be more comfortable than this questionably sourced tile. And yet he seems happy enough, bracing his back against the concrete wall as you turn your confusion back to the counter and notice a thermos that you don’t recognize next to you.

“That’s yours.” Your head whips back around but the fucker’s eyes are closed and he looks so incredibly unbothered your loud retort dies in your throat. He doesn’t bother to meet your piercing gaze no matter how long you stare at him, you get more of a response from the thermos when you accidentally elbow it trying to get more comfortable at the counter. It’s a nice thermos, one of those expensive insulated things that cost a ridiculous amount of money, in a bright yellow that nicely compliments the royal looking lion sticker stuck to it. There are a few other stickers, the NRC logo, a Spelldrive team logo, and a reaper job icon. The last sticker makes you smile, you’re pretty sure you linked a similar looking sticker to Rex in the guild discord a month ago, the design included a silhouette of the cowboy hat from the class armor set behind the icon just like this sticker. Exactly like this sticker, you realize as your tired eyes settle on the artist’s signature. The shop bell rings you to attention, a significantly less interesting customer enters the store and you try to shove your rising panic to the back of your mind and try to focus on doing your job.

Leona’s annoyed sigh goes completely unnoticed.

~~~

“You aren’t going to tell Crowley I slept through most of my shift right?” You have to be pushing things, Leona hates repeating himself and this is the third time you’ve asked him. Leona had insisted on staying with you until the end of your shift, you had insisted he had better ways to spend his night but admitted, when he had explicitly asked, that no you weren’t uncomfortable with his presence just didn’t want to be an inconvenience. That made him laugh, not unlike the little exchange you’d had this morning, but this time he had actually entertained your attempts at talking to him. Until the time came to leave and he offered to walk you home. Leona seeing you asleep at your shitty job was bad enough, the thought of that ramshackle house made your stomach tie up in all sorts of knots. “I know you probably don’t see it as a big deal-”

“Because it’s not.” He snorts. “Really who do you think you’re trying to impress?” You wince, Leona swings the thermos with that taunting sticker just out of view, as you huddle into yourself and he sighs stopping under a street light and turns you to face him. “No seriously, just who are you trying to impress? You’re always working to the point you’ve practically stopped being yourself. It’s annoying.”

“Well what’s it to you?” You huff and Leona doesn’t bother to immediately answer. Your eyes drift back to the sticker on his thermos.

“Maybe I like playing games with you.” His voice and face are uncharacteristically soft, but still unnervingly intense. He doesn’t bother specifying what he means, almost like he’s daring you to ask first so he can make fun of you for thinking Rex was anyone other than him this whole time. “Maybe I like Yuu enough that I want to spend just a little more time with them and not this weird zombie who doesn’t know the way back to their own house.”

“Oh please-” you roll your eyes and turn back to the road only for your retort to die in your throat. You are not, in fact, headed towards the haunted mansion. This road, this stupid street light, is next to a diner you know the college sports teams like to go to after games. Leona, gently, tugs you by the sleeve of your jacket towards the door. “Hey, I can’t afford-”

“Oh don’t misunderstand we ain’t here for you, I was just feeling a bit hungry.” The smug bastard doesn’t even pretend to hear your protests as he pushes his way into the diner and doesn’t wait to be seated. He just drags you towards the back of the diner shooting you a truly catlike smirk over his shoulder. “Of course if I have something left over, we can share. Maybe if you play nice you can get your own straw.” He spins you into the booth across from him, and despite what he literally just said shoves the plastic menu back into your hands when you try to hand it back to the clearly amused waitress.

“How long have you known I was...” You feel stupid even trying to broach the topic, there’s a pretty clear line you don’t cross when making online friends. It’s even in the guild rules, you’re pretty sure “don’t ask for anyone’s IRL info” is probably Gloomurai’s life motto. But Leona doesn’t seem to care, which you suppose is in line with what you know about Rex. His laid back attitude was what had made him the most approachable out of all your guildmates, not that you would ever have thought to apply such a description to Leona. If anything he seems confused why you’re so shy about talking, like he’s known who you are the whole time and that’s why he spent so much time pinging you in game or why he decided to spend his night keeping you company.

“Maybe I like playing games with you.” Something starts curling up in your stomach at the thought that he just might have, if Leona notices you loosening your jacket to release some steam he pretends not to notice.

“Epel mentioned he was gonna try to get you into the guild.” Well that’s news to you, looks like someone is going to get yelled at later tonight. “I didn’t expect you to be so excited about healing, but I ain’t complaining, it was cute and now I don’t have to take Naut’s shit outside of raids.” Cute. You intake a sharp breath and Leona definitely notices your nerves, clearly planning to press the point unless you can cut him off from the chase.

“W-what exactly do you have against Nautilus anyway?” With the way Leona’s face wrinkles you idly wonder if he knows who Nautilus actually is too, or if he’s just displeased that the focus is no longer on him. “He’s not bad at his role.”

“Naut pays too much attention to pointless shit. Sure he’s good but it’s not like he does world firsts or anything.” Neither does Rex but that does seem to be besides the point when he’s paying for your dinner, especially now that it’s in front of you. Diner food might not be the healthiest but Ruggie really was right about instant noodle not counting as a meal. “You know he and Snake used to bitch at each other while they were supposed to be doing callouts? Had whole ass arguments over cooking instead of calling out shackle timing. Gloom and Musclered never stopped ‘em either since it was ‘funny.’” They still do, just in discord and not while you run things. It’s hard to picture someone as professional as Nautilus doing something like that, but then again you know that Rex has known him longer. “So just in case you thought I was just being nice earlier, you are the better heals. If I could get the cards I want with just you, Epel, and Ruggie I would.” It’s disturbing how clear the picture is in your mind: your lala, Epel’s roe, and Leona’s cowboy coded catman being joined by some hyper pink catgirl in the mini game bunny suit that you can easily see Ruggie using to scam some tech worker out of his monthly salary in Pirate’s Port wiping to an EX rank trial because Leona decided his logs weren’t orange enough. It sounds like a good time, and you can’t keep yourself from blurting out:

“We should try to run something sometime anyway, it’d be fun.” And before you can retreat back into your shell, Leona smiles, smiles and burns away any sort of shyness you wanted to have over talking video games with someone as “normal” as him.

“If you can think of something just text me.” You fish out your phone and can’t even bring yourself to cringe at the time with just how happy that suggestion makes you feel.

And Ace said playing MMOs would get you zero bitches.

~~~

This was a mistake. It was hard to keep that thought from drumming away at your nerves the longer you stood in the station square; Leona had been the one to invite you out, not the other way around, so if he really ended up not liking this then that was his fault not yours. You even took into account that Leona was a lazy bitch and suggested you meet up later in the day instead, but then again… You try to resist drowning in a wave of self flagellation over the clothes you picked out as you somehow manage to sink further into the park bench you have decided to camp out on. For someone who had been so insistent they were not going out on a date when their generous adoptive father asked where they were going during such prime father child bonding hours, you felt insanely self conscious. That was normal right, people who actually went out with their friends to do stuff other than pal around the local big box store put thought into their appearance. Not that there was anything wrong with that. If this goes south you know you already confirmed you can have Jack over here in two shakes of his tail and that’s probably exactly what you would end up doing. But when Mannon posted in the guild discord about a First Fantasia themed pop up cafe that was going to be A) running for a limited time within walking distance from your house and B) giving out a code for an in game pet-

Well admittedly your first thought had been to invite Epel, but Leona had texted you almost immediately after Mannon dropped the link.

[irl catboy] ruggie said you aren’t working this saturday

[irl catboy] come with me to the stupid cafe i never know what to order at those places

With such a gentlemanly request how could you possibly refuse? And now here you were fifteen minutes early trying to keep yourself from going stir crazy, or from jumping out of your skin when an increasingly familiar deep voice whispers a sleepy “hey” into your ear.

“Seven’s Leona!” You’re half ready to hit him with your backpack but your indignation and fright are almost entirely wiped away by the sheer figure Leona cuts against the setting autumn sun. Someone, Ruggie you decide, because there’s no way Leona decided to dress up to come see you himself, forced your upperclassman into a knit black turtleneck with golden claw-like trim on the neck and rolled up cuffs. He’s kept his usual tan slacks, but the ugly woven sandals have been swapped out for a more weather appropriate pair of ugly slip ons with similar gold claws to the turtleneck. His hair’s still tied up like he’s been at spelldrive practice, not that you fully know what he looks like outside of Epel’s descriptions and your own imagination.

“What, did I scare you?” you drawls, clearly eating up the attention you’re lavishing on his appearance. Before you can collect yourself enough to stand up he leans down to cow you back into the bench. “Maybe I should scare you some more? The mousey look really suits you.”

“Oh shut up!” You huff and stand, trying your best to avoid cracking your head off of Leona’s stupidly broad frame as you both go to head towards the cafe. “Did you look up the menu online or are you just planning on winging it?”

“You really like to put effort into things don’t you?” Leona doesn’t look or sound too upset but there’s a strange wistfulness to his look you do not really like, but it’s gone before you can pick at it too much. “Nah I figured I’d just let you pick.”

“Are you sure?” You try your best not to sound excited, you swear the only thing you admire about Ruggie is his work ethic, not his grift. “I could just take advantage of you and force you to get a bunch of stuff only I’d like.” As if he’s reading your mind, Leona's green eyes twinkle with mischief you know will bite you in the ass later.

“Oh no you would never do that. I know for a fact that you are just too nice for that.” The “unlike someone else" goes unsaid as Leona decides to really double down on the gentleman act when you reach the cafe, holding the door and not even pretending to look at the menu until you prompt him.

“Do you want to get the reaper soda?” Leona shrugs.

“Does it sound like it will taste good to you?” It does but that’s sort of besides the point, you’re much more interested in the white mage one.

“I just thought you might want the coaster.” You murmur and he smiles.

“I’d lose something like that real fast, you can just keep it.” Your eyes have to pop halfway out of your head with how hard he laughs, other patrons shoot a confused look at your table as you try to resist the urge to self combust. “Let me guess, they’re worth somethin right? In that case all the more reason for you to keep em.” The look in his eyes is practically daring you to ask if he’s really sure, but knowing Leona he wants an excuse to tease so for now you swallow your insecurities and point your awkward smile up at the server who comes to take your order.

“Um can we get one reaper soda, one white mage soda…” your voice trails off and Leona pipes up with the name of a burger you don’t remember reading out to him but they apparently serve anyway with how quickly she notes it down.

“And is the check separate or together?” She sweetly asks and before you can so much as breathe Leona cuts you off.

“Bill goes to me.” You glare at him, well try to really Leona’s a hard person to stare down. “Didn’t I say you could get whatever?” Not literally, it was more implied along with the trouble that you weren’t expecting to catch up to you this quickly. His smile widens, not quite wolfishly, more like a lion staring down a particularly foolish gazelle that’s stumbled weak kneed into his territory. “Go on, tell the nice lady what else you want, she won’t bite you, that's my job.” Flames aren’t enough anymore. You need to turn into a particularly fine paste or particle dust to relive how fast your heart is beating. Luckily for you the server seems amused, letting out a good natured laugh as she shoots you a wink.

“You heard your man, what can we get for you?” You take back every judgment you have ever passed Ruggie’s way. With just how proud Leona seems like now he really is asking for it.

~~~

“You don’t really do things like this much do ya?” Leona kept his teasing to a minimum after the bite comment thank god and kept his word about letting you keep the coasters. Pretty much everything at the cafe seemed to have some sort of First Fantasia themed knick knack you were allowed if not encouraged to take back with you. Leona had offered to walk you home once you both saw how dark it was, promising that would be your only stop this time much to your relief. You weren’t sure how much more of his teasing you could take.

“I mean I’ve got Epel, but Ace, Deuce, and Jack don’t really like mmos.” You aren’t sure if it has ever actually been established if you are friends with Sebek, but unless someone teaches Malleus how to use a mouse you doubt he’s going to be logging into anything other than a literal tree anytime soon. “Sometimes Epel will send me links to merch he thinks I’d like, but he’s more into the…” You pause to try and find the words for what it is you want to say, knowing your friend will kill you if you make him look lame. “Sense of pride and accomplishment you get from beating high end content.”

“That sounds like him.” Leona says proudly. “He’s like that with anything mildly competitive. One of his better qualities, just don’t go telling him I said that. Wouldn’t want it goin to his head.” There’s no way you’ll be able to keep his mild praise a secret from Epel forever, but what Leona doesn’t know won’t hurt him too much. “But that’s not really what I was asking.” Your pace slows as Leona lapses back into silence and you wrack your brain for what he actually could have meant. “Do you like going out to cafe’s?”

“I… don’t really know.” You liked tonight. Talking to Leona, when he was awake enough to participate, was always fun. Even when you were trading jabs back and forth in class. “I used to dream about finally finding someone who I could do stuff like this with, but I kind of gave up after my last date said-” you freeze in your train of thought and walk. This had not been a date in any way shape or form. Sure, Leona played a video game with you, and sure he’s been going out of his way to talk to you in real life more regularly since he came to visit your work. But it’s not like he did that for any reason other than- “said it was just too weird. Said I was just too weird and I guess I just sort of got tired of not being able to talk about things that interested me so I gave up trying.”

“Then why not just date me?” Leona’s eyes are a really strange shade of green now that you’re staring straight into them. It’s like he’s got two neon lights shining a spotlight directly on you every time he speaks, judging and picking apart whoever he is looking at. And right now he is looking pointedly at you, making it clear this isn’t a conversation he is going to let you run from. “I told you before, didn't I? I like playing games with you. I want to spend time with you; I want to hear about your day every day, from what annoyed you to funny things you and your friends did. I want to see you happy and know I made that happen, because you make my life a happier one just by being in it. The only thing I have ever not liked about you is that you work too hard, and that’s not unfixable. You just need to let me be a bad influence on you.” It’s a confession you never really expected to receive, but somehow so very much him. It’s insulting, honest, and just a touch demanding but it reaches into that small shrunken part of your heart that you’ve been burying most of your feelings in for who knows how long now and fills it with warmth.

“Would you-” It feels like a silly question but with how intently Leona is hanging on your every word you feel a rush of power going straight to your head. “If we were going out would you stop wiping things on purpose?” He blinks, if he’s surprised by the request or shocked he got this far you don’t quite know, but he quickly recovers, moving into your space to offer his hand.

“If you ask nicely.” You gladly take the offered arm and influence, squeezing his much larger hand with a soft smile.

“Then it’s a dea-” Leona cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing your mouselike squeak along with most of your air with a speed you didn’t know he possessed.

“Don’t use that punks line.” He practically growls and you can’t hold in your happy laughter any longer. It could just be the streetlights, but you don’t think Leona looks all that mad. Quite the opposite really, not that you expect him to voice it out loud. Instead he leans in for another kiss in a gruff effort to show just how much he means what he has been trying to say all along.

I’m happiest when I am doing things with you.

*if you are curious about Leona's outfit, I based it off of Lion King clothing items in Disney Dreamlight Valley (black and gold claw shoes, tan sunny slacks, and the gray claw top for those looking for specifics)

#twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona x yuu #leona kingscholar #twst x reader #twst au

84 notes · View notes

akhmatowa · 7 months

Note

Demons being awful at spelling because they're stupid is a new development in season 2 and neil's brain. I stg he understands nothing about the book and how the characters were made or what the point of them were. Before, it's always been that of course they wouldn't know or fully grasp things about languages on earth, and especially not as well as crowley and aziraphale who have spent so long on earth. Now it's "demons are evil and also incredibly stupid and we all know it". No they aren't! And if someone genuinely thinks not being able to spell, especially in a language that isn't of upmost importance to them, makes someone dumb, they're just an asshole. Being illiterate doesn't equal being dumb. I don't understand how the show got this all so wrong

YES!!! So many things were simplified in order to highlight the difference between Beautiful Benevolent Special Boy Crowley & the plebian masses it's insane. The attitude of "I know they get a bad rep, but really they're just guys doing an unpleasant but needed job to do" was gone completely and replaced with "Even demons aren't that stupid" (a line that makes my blood boil every time I remember it).

It's no longer "a simple citizen has much more in common with another simple citizen across the border than with those who draw the borders". Instead, it's "bad things happen to people because they're ugly and stupid and deserve it". It's "the snobs were right to turn their nose up, because those less fortunate are all too dumb to live anyways!" It's all "look at me, I was lucky enough to leave your shithole early and now I am so much cleverer than all of you idiots. Well, that's too bad! Maybe you should've just pulled yourself up by your bootstraps the way I did". Before I could see Crowley using the empathy he gained from not living in a constantly traumatizing environment and from looking at human histories and from having someone love him back to understand Hell's cohabitators and wish for their circumstances to also change for the better. Now, this new Crowley? The only thing he's capable of is sneering smugly, looking down on everyone and calling them idiots. Idk who this Lucifer the tv show-esq guy is but it ain't my boy.

(Neil did put in (in a way that completely massacred Aziraphale's character, but still) the conversation about poverty and opportunities from the book. Notice how he left out the televangelist 50/50 chances speech, or anything about good and bad being just names for sides.)

#breaking my silence (at attempt at a tumblr break) to say you're so right #im forever in the demon defence squad #good omens critical #asks

43 notes · View notes

sgtmickeyslaughter · 7 months

Text

Thank you so much @callivich for taking the time and effort for coming up with these questions, and thank you @such-a-barbarian for tagging me also!

This got long lol

What’s a fic you’ve read more than once?

one of my favorite generas of fic is shameless Mickey worship and for that I aways come back to from head to toe and the many things Mickey Milkovich has been called, Unforgiving Touches and the Feeling of Their Bruises.

also, in no particular order You’re Tough To Love When You Don’t Love Yourself, the broad shouldered beasts series, sincerity is scary.

for something a little smutty go back to sleep has always been a favorite of mine

and as always, my favorite fic of all time Boy In The Box

What’s a gifset you always have to reblog?

i love that gif set of Ian sniffin’ on his husband, also I think there’s one thats a compilation of Mickey’s best smiles through the series, gorgeous.

this beautifully edited (?) gifset I stg this is better quality than the actual show idk how they did that

this gorgeous art/gifset is awesome also!

this one is very important to me but man it hurts

another heartbreaker

everyone say thank you gif makers!!!!

What’s a fanart you love looking at?

I literally just saw this one for the first time, it immediately went to the top of my list!!

Its so beautifully done and captures the tone of the original piece so well while also transforming it into a unique moment and commentary on intimacy in their own relationship, ugh, gorgeous

What’s a headcanon you can’t stop thinking about?

creative mickey! the best thing season 10 gave us was mickey and his notebook. i just know when Ian sees that thing come out post canon a part of him locks up in genuine fear

i don’t really think he gets into art persay, but just being a creative thinker, figuring out how to run their business, decorating their apartment, building ian a garden on their balcony when he gets put on the waitlist for the community garden

What’s an idea you’d love to create if you had the time/inspiration?

so I had this idea very vaguely floating around in my head for a while, but it wasn’t even remotely formed, let alone developed and then suddenly last weekend the plot just came to me in that beautiful and cruel way inspiration comes and goes, but it will take forever to write because I want the pace to feel very slow and syrupy and a little dream (or nightmare) like.

i dont want to give away the plot but its very southern gothic, slight true crime elements, cults, slight age difference (younger Mickey)… anyways if anyone from the rural south wants to be on call to explain geography and culture to me, hit me up

i also have an idea for a dirty filthy, nasty smut fic but i would have to post it anonymously i wouldnt be able to look anyone in the (virtual) eyes

What’s something you’ve discovered since entering this fandom? A new trope you love? A different analysis of the show? Something else?

in all seriousness, analyzing Shameless as a show overall is so interesting, understanding each of the characters as case studies in different particular expressions of being raised in poverty, which is what makes it twice as upsetting when someone is like, ‘why would this character do this, thats so stupid’ and the answer is that statically speaking that character was actually very likely to do that because of the circumstances they were born into and the way they’ve been affected by that throughout their life, but okay. I also noticed that a lot of people on here are not from America and I always wonder what their take on the social/political reading of the show, if it feels familiar at all etc..

i also remember the first time someone commented under my fic to be like, ‘why are you giving Mickey a pass Ian did this’, and someone else commented underneath that ‘oh well Mickey did that so he’s a bad person etc.’ and it was just so upsetting to me, I dont see a lot of that on my dash but I just personally believe that if you are judging teenagers/young adults who are in the middle of their first major mental health crisis or who have suffered unimaginable abuse and neglect their entire life, you need to recalibrate your empathy levels

What’s your favourite season? And has this changed after multiple rewatches of the show?

I love love early seasons (1-3) there is just something so nostalgic about it and as a show that’s when the writing was at its most creative and interestingly paced

also who doesn’t love baby gallavich?

What line/dialogue/description from something else (a poem, a book, a tv show, a movie, or something else) do you feel describes Ian and Mickey’s relationship?

Ugh Im so sorry I am going to have to add all the lyrics to In Your Love by Tyler Childers, the inspiration for my first fic title because it is the most perfect song to encapsulate the passion between them and the work and sacrifices they put up for each other

What’s a plot hole you wish had been answered or resolved?

where is mandy? where the fuck is my girl?

also the fact that kevin had a son with v’s mom and just, has no interest in a relationship with him? like that made the story easier for sure but it doesn’t make sense with his character

What scene or moment do you feel isn’t discussed enough?

guys, there is not a scene in this show that we have not done to death already (affectionate)

and you know what? we’ll do it again!

but just for the sake of it, the “would you take care of me if i was paralyzed” scene, you can see that Mickey is almost idk, hesitant? but that’s because he’s really picturing it and that his yes is genuine and thought out, and ian’s face of wonder when he realizes that he has someone who loves him unconditionally and forever? earth shattering

What do you think is next for Ian and Mickey post-finale?

listen, i think the laws of television writers being assholes would dictate that they would give a break up (and maybe reconciliation) arc which is my least favorite television trope

but irl? (u know what i mean) i think they do have some hard, stressful times both out of their relationships and in it and realize pretty quickly that they have to work as a team and lean on each other and it only makes them closer

i also think that they simply refuse to sleep without each other, like one night when Ian gets stuck at the gallagher house taking care of sick franny mickey will drive over and sleep in the twin bed with him or if mickey gets wasted on a night out with sandy and debbie and his battery runs out he’ll stumble his ass home instead of going with one of them when they offer even if it takes forever

and ian grows his hair and stubble out to look like it does in the most recent photos (fluffy mullet) and mickey adores it he can’t keep his hands off his husbands head it’s a sensory dream

Thanks again for tagging me!

i’ll tag @stocious @mybrainismelted @sirrudo @solitarycreaturesthey @juliakayyy @jrooc @jezzibelle89 @i-think-you-mean-reduction @iansw0rld

#tag game #sgt says

20 notes · View notes

shmaptainwrites · 1 year

Note

*knocks politely*

Hello hi!

Requesting Bobby with the “kiss me” prompt. Hehe okay byeeeeee

bestie i’ve got youuuu this prompt is so perfect for shenanigans so shenanigans is what you get

Pairings: Bobby Nash x GN!Reader

Warnings: they are two halves of one braincells i stg, breaking and entering, general idiocy, they’re just…so stupid

Amateur Sleuth

“I swear there’s something illegal going on there but no one believes me! Doesn’t help that I don’t have any proof to prove them wrong,” you sighed, sitting back in your chair at the dining table in the fire hall, your arms crossed over your chest.

“You are absolutely insane for spying on your neighbours, you know that, right?” Eddie asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Come on Eddie, if you saw what I saw, you’d be snooping.”

“Which was what exactly?” Buck asked as he joined you.

“She says she has an Etsy store, but people only ever come and buy stuff from her in the dead of night.”

“So like 10:30 for you?” Hen teased and you lightly shoved her.

“No like 3 am, I’m not joking,” you said. “And I found her instagram and that girl is living well beyond her means for a retail worker who has an Etsy shop on the side. I’m talking about vacations every other month, she bought a Mercedes recently, something is up for sure.”

“I agree,” Bobby jumped into the conversation.

“Thank you! Finally someone with some common sense,” you exclaimed. “Now if only I could figure out what the hell she’s up to.”

“You need to stake her place out,” Bobby said simply.

“You say that as if you’ve done it before, Cap,” Chimney chuckled.

“Maybe once or twice off the record, but with good reason and my hunches were right.”

“What do I have to pay you to come over tonight and help me figure this out?” you laughed, but the whole team knew you were being dead serious.

“Just a cup of coffee, I’ll come over at 11,” he smiled and you clapped your hands together victoriously.

“5 bucks says this is gonna blow up in your faces,” Eddie took out his wallet and put the cash on the table.

“I’ll take that action,” Hen nodded. “I’ve seen Bobby do his thing, there’s a slight chance this could go right.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Hen,” you said sarcastically. “Jokes on all of you, this is gonna go great.”

After your shift was over you headed home and ate something for dinner before napping for a few hours so you could manage to stay up late that night.

Your alarm went off just ten minutes before Bobby arrived and you had a pot of coffee hot and ready when he came inside.

“So where does this neighbour of yours live?” he asked.

“She’s the apartment directly across the hall,” you pointed. “If you look through the peephole you can see, that’s how I’ve been doing most of my spying.”

“Alright, we can use that and since you’re on the first floor if the opportunity presents itself, maybe we can see if there’s any clues from the window.”

“Man, I didn’t even think of that,” you chuckled. “Oh this is gonna be so fun.”

You poured Bobby a cup of coffee and you waited eagerly for one of your neighbour’s customers to show up. After a while, no one had come and your neighbour had left the house a while ago so Bobby suggested to get a look through the window.

“We’ve gotta be quiet though, I’m not the only snoopy neighbour, if someone sees me they’ll call the cops for sure,” you noted, grabbing Bobby’s hand and leading him out of the building and to the rear where you could peek in through the windows.

Some of the blinds were drawn and others were open so you got looks where you could, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“This can’t be it,” you shook your head.

“I know, somethings not sitting right with me,” Bobby agreed, there had to be something you weren’t seeing.

You leaned against one of the windows in defeat and looked over at Bobby in shock when it shifted. You exchanged knowing glances, no one would find out about this part.

Since you knew the neighbours better, you stayed on lookout to make sure you didn’t get caught while Bobby carefully climbed inside and searched for clues.

He took a few photos here and there so they could go over them later, but what he was really looking for was what she could possibly be selling that was making her so much money.

On the table he found a date book and quickly flipped through it, finding some potentially useful information on the sales, but before he could do anything about it, he heard your voice quietly, but urgently exclaim,

“Shit! She’s back! Bobby you’ve gotta get the hell outta there, but just as he was going to climb out the window you saw something that told you he should wait a moment. So you hid behind a bush and waited for another neighbour to go inside before practically grabbing Bobby and pulling him out of her apartment and closing the open window.

You both ran inside and you fumbled for your keys as your heard footsteps coming closer. Honestly, you thought it looked pretty incriminating, but it was possible the adrenaline was getting in the way of your better judgment.

The footsteps became even louder and for some reason your keys were not in your pocket, so in a desperate attempt to save face you looked Bobby dead in the eye and said,

“Kiss me.”

“What?” he quietly exclaimed like he hadn’t heard you correctly the first time.

“Just trust me Bobby! Kiss me!”

Just as he took your face in his hands and he pulled you towards him you wrapped your arms around his neck and his lips came crashing down on yours. You kissed feverishly as your neighbour came past you and to her door, only breaking apart to nervously chuckle as you made eye contact with her.

“Tinder am I right?” you shrugged and she smiled knowingly before nodding and giving you a thumbs up of approval before going inside her place.

“Tinder? Really?” Bobby asked.

“It was the only thing I could think of!” you slapped a hand to your forehead and shook your head.

“Just like kissing me was the only thing you could come up with?” he asked with a raised brow.

You finally found your keys, unlocking the door and letting Bobby go inside before you.

“Okay, maybe the adrenaline got my wires crossed,” you admitted. “But I could say the same for you Captain Nash, you really committed to the bit for that kiss.”

“Well,” he coughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe my wires were crossed too.”

“Maybe we should cross them again,” you suggested, coming a little closer, “And never tell anyone about what happened tonight, like ever.”

“I can live with that,” he agreed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing another kiss to your lips.

At the end of the day, both of you knew there was no one else you’d rather commit a felony with, and really, what more could you want in life than a partner in crime.

#bobby nash #bobby nash x reader #bobby nash blurb #911 #911 blurb #911 x reader #911reader #bobby nash fanfiction #911 fanfiction

133 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

draenethyst

Draenethyst!

carebearcore

vivirmientrastanto

Ein Freigeist

troadikellerez

stargalaxycat

Bright, Young Thing