#i feel too awkward to really point it out though because they look the exact same. i cannot tell if there is a difference
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These Strings That Bind Us
first chapter; previous chapter
So this is the first chapter of this fic that I’ve posted since a few of my irl friends have started following me and now they get to see the crazed fanfiction maniac I am and I don’t know if they’re ready.
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chapter 3:
Nico scanned the room he was left in. He knew logically that he was safe. That he was allowed to be… gay. And that the people that just overheard his conversation with Percy likely didn’t hate him for it.
They probably do hate you though. Even you can’t like yourself.
He just… didn’t like that knowledge to be floating around.
It was then, after observing all the sleeping and uninterested patients that he saw the face of a particular blonde peering through a corner.
“Hey. Sunshine. I see you.” Nico said trying to mask his worry.
How long had he been there?
Will exhaled a laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… stalk…? I was going to check up on you but you were talking with Percy and I did to want to interrupt.”
“How much did you overhear?” Nico asked, deciding to cut to the point.
Will turned pinker. “Nothing! I swear I wasn’t trying to listen into your conversation. I was just watching,” he said getting redder. “I mean-! I wasn’t like ‘watching’ watching. But I was also not listening. I was just waiting for an opening is all. So I could check up on you. Because that’s what I’m here to do right now. Check up on you that is.”
Will snapped his mouth shut, trying to stop the word-vomit from getting worse. He had a flight-or-flight look in his eyes, as if how Nico responded would be the deciding factor in how this interaction went. He wished Will hadn’t stopped. He couldn’t pin down the exact reason why he liked hearing that incoherent mess of speech, but he did. It took a bit longer for him to realize that while he was brain was occupied by the rambling of the boy across from him, it was too full to waste energy on worrying.
Nico tried -really tried- to think of something comforting or cringe-reducing to say but he could help it when a laugh slipped out.
And another. And one more. And five seconds later he was miserably failing to stifle his giggles with his left hand.
“Wha-“ Will started. “What is it? Are you ok?Did one of my siblings but you on laughing gas or something? It was Kayla wasn’t it?!”
This made Nico laugh even harder. “Oh gods no. You’re just really weird. In a good way. You kept on saying more and it made it get worse and worse.” He laughed again. “Thank you for that. Holy hades I needed a good laugh.”
Will didn’t even flinch when Nico described his little speech as pathetic. If anything, it seemed to make him more confident. Composed. “Well I’m glad you feel joy at my expense,” he said rolling his eyes. “And you have a pretty laugh too. I like hearing it.” He smiled at Nico, his gaze moving to the glow between them.
Oh right.
Stop getting comfortable. Especially with him.
Nico shifted in his seat, moving so his arms are crossed with his left ring-finger covered by his arm. He failed to avert his gaze from Will’s disappointed eyes.
See? Even if it weren’t wrong, you could never be with him. You fail everybody, and Will is no different.
A few beats of silence.
“So uh… checkup?” Nico suggested.
“Yes! Right. Let me just…” he trailed off. Something about clipboards and procedures that Nico did not have to energy nor interest to pay attention to.
Will got the information he needed. Apparently a lot of Nico’s story was already in the documents.
“Like I said: I know your history,” Will stated with faux-intimidation. Nico rolled his eyes.
When they got to the physical checkup Nico started getting jittery. He felt awkward saying something to Will about it, but he really didn’t like being touched so much. Especially because Will’s hands were so… methodical. It was bringing him back.
To the times of your torment? Good. Revel in it. In the feeling of pain. Relive it all. Maybe if you look tortured enough somebody will even pity you. Why do you think you want that so badly? You know how hard it is to be yourself. Trying to share that burden with somebody else is plain selfish.
Will noticed. Probably. He didn’t point it out, but he tried to lighten the mood, albeit with terrible references to things Nico did not have the current cultural knowledge to understand.
Something about Nico being “Mr. Perfectly Fine” when asked about he was feeling. Or responding to Nico’s remarks about his werewolf scratches with saying, “oh! ‘Tis but a flesh wound I see!” (He seemed really proud of himself with that one). And he kept calling Nico a “padawan”? What even was that?
Yet, despite the utter confusion that had overtaken Nico, it was a good distraction. Will had or hadn’t brought a laugh out of him a couple of times. Nico was or was not starting to feel a lot more comfortable, especially with Will around.
And the string they shared absolutely was not glowing more warmly with each passing moment they spent together. Of course not. Never.
~~~
After that checkup, Nico offered to help around the infirmary. He did this, of course, hoping that his complete lack of any medical knowledge and “aura of death” would be enough for Will to refuse the offer.
He did not.
Figures.
What Will did do however, was introduce anyone and everyone imaginable to Nico. Whether that be random patients, his siblings, his Roman siblings that he (being the social-magnet-golden-retriever that he was) had gotten close with after the war, or some poor soul that happened to be within the vicinity of the two of them. It was weird. Nico didn’t know how to feel. Nobody had treated him like a person they could show others to. He was usually hidden away. Chose to keep himself hidden away.
Nico was starting to like being seen though. It helped that Will was there too. Unlocking the prison of isolation Nico had made for himself and dragging him into interactions when they were in the middle of filing paperwork. When he introduced Nico to a new person, he almost sounded proud. Like knowing Nico was something they could envy about Will.
“Oh hey [person] have you met my friend Nico?” Will would say. “Yeah he’s the coolest kid in camp! Go on Nico say hi,” pride radiating from his voice. “We met a few days ago when he almost stabbed me haha. He really saved my skin out there. Even if he was seconds away from passing out while doing it.”
Nico would never admit it, but he kind of liked the attention Will was giving him. It was as if Will’s words of affirmation were able to fight off the self-doubt demons would otherwise occupy much of Nico’s thoughts.
Not only that, but he also liked meeting people.
Yes. Him. Nico di Angelo. The son of Hades. Well known social recluse. Enjoying the communion of others.
Was that new? He thought he was an introvert to the core. The idea of people was supposed to make him want to hide under a rock a perish. Was it just that he was so much of a social outcast that he fooled himself into thinking that?
Dear gods, he was not going to spend the time going down that rabbit hole any further.
Nico felt a tug on his string finger. Will had started doing that in order to touch Nico without touching him. Nico hadn’t decided yet how he felt about it. Well, his heart obviously had, but he’s choosing to ignore that stubborn organ in all matters pertaining to Will. He looked up, slowly bringing himself back to reality.
Back to the storage/office room they were (as Will had put it) “chillin’” in. Back to the smell of antiseptic spray and old files. Back to the blonde idiot staring into his soul, seemingly trying to solve a puzzle.
“…what?” Nico broke the silence.
Will stared for a beat longer. “You were staring off into space for a while. Are you ok?”
He thought for a moment too long.
“Yes,” was the response Nico decided on.
Will stared even deeper with a curious look. “…ok… sure. What were you thinking about then?”
Nico was just about to bark out a basic response of “oh nothing”, or something like that, but he stopped himself. He didn’t need to hold himself back. Not when Will was looking at him in that eager and open way that he does.
“I was thinking about how much in my life has changed,” since you entered into it, “in the past few days.”
Maybe he didn’t say the whole truth, but Will was enough to make him no outright lie.
“Really?” Will backed off some, face turning from questioning frown to genuine smile. “How so?”
Oh. So this was gonna be some cheesy heart-to-heart, was it? Nico was not opposed to that idea. He looked back up at Will’s bright expectant eyes.
He actually rather liked the idea.
He talked to Will. He was trying to keep it short (Will was always busy) but the more he talked, the more they kept talking. And talking. And talking. Somehow they moved from life the last few days to life in the past few years. Family, in all possible definitions of the word. Friends, in all their shades, hues, and complexities. Enemies, in all their surprising humanity.
Will’s voice changed depending on what he was saying. He slurred together his words when they were talking about old interests. He would pause or stutter when they transitioned to deep topics, and slowed down when they got comfortable there. His voice got all jittery and slightly more high pitched when he was excited about something.
And the way he listened… the way it felt like he hung onto every word Nico said like it was written in scripture…
Nico kept wondering when Will would leave. He would find some excuse about having to check up on a patient, or outright say he didn’t want to stay there.
Wouldn’t want to stay with you. Why would anyone want to spend time with you. You’re boring him and he will leave you—
But Will hasn’t left. How long has they been there? They sat down on a nearby desk a while ago. Will was still with him.
Will, talking about his mom and how much he misses her. Will, listening to Nico’s stories of his childhood in Italy. Will, leaning into the beats of silence that would occasionally fall between them with a rare comfort. Will, inching closer to Nico with each passing second. Will, making their string glow impossibly brighter with the effect he had on Nico. Will, coiling the string around his fingers until there was no space between his and Nico’s hands. Will, cutting himself off mid-sentence just to graze Nico’s hand.
Will. Will. Will.
How long had it been? It was dark outside. Not that Nico cared. In the moment all that Nico cared about was right by his side, chatting animatedly, listening with care, leaning against Nico as he got more tired. Nico couldn’t imagine falling asleep now. His heart was beating so fast one would think he was about to be killed by some monster.
For some reason this moment felt more important than any of those past life-or-death experiences. He was safe. Nobody was in danger. But all those times he was fighting to live. Now he’s living to be alive.
With Will.
He looked over at the boy now resting on his shoulder and smiles. His mouth slightly open and he’s just barely snoring. It’s adorable. Nico’s heart warms with affection.
Affection. He liked using that word in this moment. He smiled.
He liked using that word for Will.
~~~
The Apollo Cabin did not cut him any slack when he brought a sleeping Will back in a bridal carry late into the night.
~~~
“Hey! It’s Mr. Perfectly Fine!” Will exclaimed to his siblings when Nico had entered the infirmary office.
Nico had caught a glimpse of Will hunched over his desk, with an exhausted expression written on his face just as Nico had walked in. It seemed like he was talking to his siblings, Kayla and Austin, about how he can “totally handle all this work” and that he’s “not burnt out”. They however, were willing to drop that conversation to snicker at Nico regarding whatever it was Will had just said.
“Seriously? You have no other jokes,” Nico retorted. “What is that referencing? I’m convinced you’re making it up at this point.”
“Oh please, at this point it’s your fault for not being a part of the Taylor Nation,” Kayla chimed in.
“I’ve been here for two days!”
Kayla crossed her arms. “That’s two whole days of Taylor Swift that you could have been listening to.”
Nico rolled his eyes and looked to Austin, the one person left who hadn’t taken a side against him.
“What?” He responded. “They’re right. All the effort you’ve made to avoid Taylor Swift is really some Kanye behavior.”
Nico hated his past self. Why did he decide to start hanging out with the Apollo Cabin? They were one mess of snarky comebacks joined together by their obsession over various musicians.
“I’ve been helping out! Would you really rather have me be wasting oxygen while listening to Swift?” Nico asked the cohesive mass.
“Yes!” They all shouted in (a partially harmonized) unison.
Nico groaned and sat on the chair he had placed next to Will’s desk the last time he was in this office. He’s only been here for three days and yet he has a spot for him. Next to Will.
The siblings talked about some infirmary stuff. Work schedules, post-war stuff, some new Roman ailments they learned about. Nico tuned it out, picking at his hangnails.
Some time later, the door Nico had just come through slammed open with an uninterested Drew Tanaka on the other end.
“Hey shitheads! I need drugs!” She said.
Nico raised an eyebrow at her and turned to look at Will, hoping he would translate.
Without looking up from his desk, Will rolled his eyes and said, “Sweet baby Zeus, can’t you just say ibuprofen like a normal person?”
He pushed back on his chair to get up, but Kayla pushed him right back.
“Nuh-uh. I’ve got this. You stay here and take a break with your,” she looked at Nico, “dude-best-friend.” She winked at him.
She headed out the door, with Drew on her heels.
The three left in the room looked at each other. A silent conversation played out between Will and Austin that lasted for much longer than a silent conversation has any right to last. Nico was glad to not be involved in it, whatever it was.
Austin sighed. “I guess I’ll go with them to make sure they don’t blow anything up.”
“Again,” Will added.
With a quick finger-gun-snap to his brother, Austin left.
The door creaked it as it closed.
“Wait,” Nico put his elbows on the desk. “How many explosions have they caused?” He thought for a second. “How do they even cause explosions to happen?”
He waits for a second more. Will is writing something down. Nico probably shouldn’t have interrupted by talking. He needed to be more conscious about his actions. Especially now that he is friends with Will. What was it Kayla said? “Dude-best-friend”? Yeah. He needed to be a better dude-best-friend. Not that they were “best friends”. It was probably just some slang or something. If they were even considered to be best-
Thunk.
Will face-planted onto his desk.
“Shit.” How long had he been working? “Are you ok?”
Will held up a hand to give a thumbs-up before dropping it back down to his desk. Will started snoring.
Nico knew there was a right way to react to this. Will probably had the answer for him. But Nico couldn’t find it in himself to do anything but stare. Stare and think. Like he was moving in slow motion but the rest of the world wasn’t kind enough to take note.
Was this normal for Will? Did he just collapse at his desk from time to time? No. He was always preaching his gospel of “taking care of yourself” and whatnot. This had to be a one-off thing.
He’s probably fine, right? Sure, he’s probably a little bit burnt out, but it’s not life and death or anything.
Yeah good idea. Bury your problems. Maybe one day you’ll share a grave with them.
How could he even think like that? “Not life and death,” so many things are not life and death but they are still worth worrying about.
Nico is a terrible friend. He needs to be worrying more about Will. Will needs help.
And how the hell do you expect to help him? Name one time you weren’t a burden to somebody. Every time you try to do something it fails. Just stop.
Gods. He was pathetic. His friend was passed out in front of him, and he was standing there, frozen. He should do something. He needed to do something. He just. He- he had to-
You always let people down. You’re too pitiful to help anyone.
No! He could help!
Will laid there fully unaware of the warfare happening in Nico’s mind. Someone looking in would likely find his state of rest to look peaceful. He was just a tired kid doctor in a tiny room filled with papers and files.
Outside that room was a couple of teenagers bickering about ibuprofen and explosives. It was a conversation severely lacking in context for the onlookers not in said conversation.
Even further beyond there were children doing dangerous and mundane activities. Somewhere a kid first encountered a monster. A man proposed to his girlfriend to the joy of an entire restaurant. A man proposed to his boyfriend to the shock, disgust, and joy of a small park. A child wrote a letter that never got read to her father fighting in a war. A species that was never discovered went extinct. A group of teenagers got high on the roof of a parking lot. A tired mother decided to quit smoking for the third time that year. A grandparent met their first grandson.
And back in that small room with too much paper and a sleeping boy, a damaged kid sees nothing but the worst of it.
Nico’s mind is a tunnel with no light at the end; flashing horrors crowding it out and letting no logic or hope in.
This was life-or-death. If Nico didn’t do something, he would be responsible for whatever happened to Will.
Will would know what to do. If Nico just knew Will better. If he just payed a bit more attention while Will worked. He must have been a terrible friend, having not cared enough to know how to handle this.
Finally, something you’re right about.
Gods! How could he even be drowning in this self pity now? Will needed help. He needed… caffeine? An intervention? He needed something and Nico needed to help. He could help. He needed to help. He needed-
His hand met a warmth. He looked down to see his and Will’s hands touching. Nico didn’t know when he started reaching for his hand. He let it sit there for a few beats of tense, heavy, warm silence.
His fingers moved without his consent to gently coil their string.
People say that, for soulmates, strings are able to pass emotions. The way one touches their string and the feeling they have while holding it are felt by the person on the other side.
Nico could… send some comfort? The thoughts would have made him laugh in any other circumstance. Him. Being the bringer of comfort. But in this instance, he could. There wasn’t anything else he coulddo.
No you cannot. You will lead yourself to heartbreak.
Will groaned. Nico flinched.
His hand twitched to reach out. To let Will know that “I’m here”. That “you can talk to me”.
You can’t do that.
He couldn’t do that though.
You don’t know how to comfort people.
He didn’t even know how to comfort people.
Just look in front of you, you let this happen under your watch.
He’d let this happen.
And here you are thinking to yourself instead of doing anything.
Gods! He just needed to focus. Think of some solution.
Just think! Just think! Just think! Just-
A door opened and Nico’s throat dropped, feeling like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done. Which was stupid. He knew that.
He uselessly held his hands up and backed up, turning to the door. His body was frozen as thoughts of the thousands of ways the next few seconds could go all competed for his attention. He was a deer in the headlights, weakly looking past the person who was on the other end of the door. They looked at the scene in the room and raised an eyebrow.
“Nico? What happened?” Austin asked.
Austin! Thank the gods! He can-
“Help.” Nico creaked. “I don’t know what happened. Will, he…” Nico cut himself off. His throat was so choked up it was barely letting him say anything. It hurt. He didn’t realize he was this close to tears.
Fucking baby.
Austin rushed to his brother’s side and after a few moments sighed a breath of relief. “He’s fine. Just exhausted.” He took a few moments to give Nico a worried look. “Are you fine?”
Nico couldn’t respond. His body was still in fight-or-flight mode. He could only hear the pounding of his heartbeat, so strong it was like it was coming directly from his ears. There was to much happening. He just needed to calm down. He also had to respond. He had to look normal. He had to help with-
“Everything is fine.” The mantra he repeated in his mind. “He’s just exhausted. He’s ok. I’m ok.”
No you’re not. No he’s not.
Austin just confirmed that there was nothing to worry about.
You just don’t care enough about Will to keep worrying for him.
“I’m ok,” he finally responded, voice even more shaky.
Austin made a doubtful look and walked over to a shelf, pulling out some ball. He handed it to Nico, placing it in a hand he had not realized was shaking until then. He squeezed it and it was cushiony, but firm.
“Breathe with me,” Austin said simply.
And they breathed together. Slowly in. Holding it. Slowly out. Holding it.
After a minute or so he asked “would you mind if I brought Kayla here too?”
Shrugging, Nico lied. “I don’t mind. I’m fine really.” Although he didn’t know why he was still trying.
“No, you’re not.”
Austin steps out of the room and sticks his head out the door, peering down the corridor. “Kayla!”
Nico heard a muffled, “What?! I’m busy!”
Again shouting back, “Just come over here please!”
Some shuffling. Some footsteps. “What’s up?”
Austin stepped aside and let her view the scene. Her eyes softened and she walked over towards where Nico stayed standing.
“Oh Gods Nico, what’s wrong?” She asked him.
He tried for a dry laugh. “Nononono I’m fine. I was just a little-“ he choked. He hopelessly tried to steady his voice. “Just a little worried for Will is all.”
Kayla’s eyes immediately went wide with panic at the mention of his brother’s name. “What happened? Is he ok?” She looked over to his desk.
Austin stepped up to his sister, putting a hand on her arm. “He’s alright Kay. Just a little exhausted,” he said. They looked like they were having a silent conversation for a moment after that ended when they both looked back at Nico.
“Do you want to sit and talk for a bit?” Austin eventually asked.
“It doesn’t have to be about anything important,” Kayla added. “Or anything at all. Like, if you need silence with company we got you. Or silence without company. Or company without silence. Or any other combination. Or some other secret option. Or-“
“Company without silence is just the first choice you said,” Austin interrupted
Kayla thought for a second. “It is, isn’t it? It feels like there should be more combinations of those words though.”
“No company with no silence.”
“Ok but does that actually make any sense? Unless you talk to yourself professionally you wouldn’t be alone and without silence.”
“I would say that I can be alone without silence. I’m an interesting guy, I have fun talking to myself.”
“Yeah well, you’re just lonely so-“
A laugh escaped from Nico. They both looked at him.
“Sorry,” he said, for once with a steady voice. “The way you guys talk to each other is really funny to watch.” It reminded him of how he was with Bianca when they were younger. They used to argue all the time, sometimes escalating into screaming matches. Their mother would always step in and say something wise and meaningful that completely went over Nico and his sister’s heads. If Bianca were both alive now, would it be like this? Would their arguments not be out of malice but sibling love? What would that have looked like with them?
Kayla rested an arm on her brother’s shoulder as he looked at her with fake disgust. “We are, aren’t we?” She asked him.
“I really don’t think you’re ‘funny’. If anything funny looking.”
Kayla walked over to a circular table and sat down. “Oh please. I’m the hottest sibling. No contest.”
Austin followed her, taking a seat for himself. “If that’s what you want to believe, I will let you continue living with that lie.”
Kayla scoffed and looked back at Nico. “Wanna join the order of the round table?”
Yes.
“I uh… Are you sure it won’t get in the way of,” he waved his hand around at the general vicinity, “infirmary duties?”
“Not really,” Austin answers. “We did rounds this morning and everybody just needs more time to heal with the meds and magic,” which he embellished with spirit fingers, “and we already gave them their afternoon doses. Unless there’s some random emergency-“
“Or Drew comes back demanding drugs again,” Kayla added.
“Or that, then we’re just chilling.”
Nico wanted to say yes.
Don’t fool yourself kid. They don’t want you there. You’re just being a burden. They seem to be having a great time without-
Nico squeezed the ball. He moved to the table. He smiled and they smiled back.
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Author’s Note:
thank you so much for reading!! To that one person who commented on my last fic saying they needed more: thank you specificially. And I’m sorry specifically for you because the wait for the next one is going to be worse than a cartoon hiatus. Tho I’m actually going to be spending that time writing instead of feeling guilty for not writing to that’s a win.
also I have an Ao3 now so that’s cool
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day 1421
#uh just a heads up if you expand the tags to see all there's. a lot. very long#amphibian#frog#poison dart frog#based on my most popular frog to date (day 651)#inspired by everyone pointing out what they think it looks like#here's a fun secret fact the original guy is actually a phantasmal poison dart frog (Epipedobates tricolor)#(according to the original artists title of the drawing)#not Anthony's poison arrow frog (Epipedobates anthonyi)#i feel too awkward to really point it out though because they look the exact same. i cannot tell if there is a difference#im half convinced the same frog was just discovered and named twice#its very curious btw if you go on the (english) wikipedia page for either species it doesn't mention the other#while hereptiles.info (no idea if this is a trustworthy site) lists both names as common names for the same frog (incorrectly??)#while inaturalist lists them as two different frogs. curiously with tricolor having wayyyyy fewer photos#ok anyway that's my rant i went on a whole journey trying to figure out if these are the same frog or not and i have no answer#i did some more 'research' and i am more confused. some sources seem to imply they are now considered the same species ( e. tricolor)#i think my conclusion is i am willing to agree the drawing looks more like e. anthonyi. it seems like tricolor is generally less vibrant re#and the white is darker and more green?#i feel like thumblr should stop me from typing more in the tags at this point this is a whole essay#at this point i am failry convinced this is specifically the Santa Isabel frog. isthat the real subspecies or morph or whatever#or just the name pet sites are using to sell it??#i even found some sources (frog selling websites) refering to it as “Epipedobates Anthonyi 'Santa Isabel' Phantasmal Poison Dart Frog” lol#Anyways if you read this far hi. species are confusing. i am not a frog scientist#the first few tags are like an hour old now i just kept trying to figure it out and adding more tags
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24 with lessi russo please <3
Flirting 101
Alessia Russo x reader
warnings: none
summary: Alessia is terrible at flirting so she resorts to google.
I changed the prompt a little bit, but I hope you like it.
~~~
Alessia had had a crush on you for months, but it especially got bad after she joined Arsenal. You had been playing for Arsenal for five years now, and the club was your home. You had a very flirty personality, and you were really close with Leah and Katie, always trying to see who had the most charm. Although you were a very flirty person, you also didn't believe in one-night stands and only dated people that you saw a real future with, something Alessia admired.
Alessia had been trying to hint to you that she was interested for weeks now, but Alessia's flirting skills were non-existent and awkward. You always knew exactly what to say to make her weak in the knees and speechless, and she usually wasn't able to form a coherent sentence past an awkward hello and wave. She was getting very frustrated with herself and didn't know what to do. She absolutely did not want to ask for help on how to flirt with you or admit she had a crush on you if she didn't know if you felt the same way.
She had no idea that you, in fact, very much did feel the same way but were waiting for her to work up the courage to ask you out. You thought it was incredibly adorable whenever she was an awkward, blushing, clumsy mess around you. You would watch her work up the courage to come over and approach you, but as soon as she was near you, her mind would go blank, and she would blurt out "hi" before usually turning and walking away before you even had the chance to respond.
This was why she decided to resort to good and trusty Google. She lay in bed one night searching for hours for different ways to flirt, even practicing with the stuffed bear you had given her for Secret Santa a month prior. She decided she would try out one of the ways to flirt tomorrow and then a different one the next day and so on.
~~~
The next day at training, Alessia decided to approach you during a hydration break and try out her first method: compliments.
"I really like your boots," Alessia said awkwardly, grinning at you. She had decided last night that this was a good compliment to start with, not too personal but still nice. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at her compliment.
"Thanks, I like yours too." You pointed to her boots as you said this. Alessia looked to see why you were pointing at her boots to realize that you both were, in fact, wearing the exact same boots, which wasn't that odd considering you were both Adidas athletes. Alessia blushed as soon as she realized this, not thinking about this scenario when she had planned out the conversation in her head. You smiled at her as she was saved by the whistle being blown, calling for the next drill to start.
~~~
Alessia continued with different flirting attempts for the next two weeks, each of them not going the way she hoped, but she didn't fully quit yet because every time she approached you, you smiled brightly at her. She would rather embarrass herself to make you smile than to not have that smile directed at her.
After two weeks, though, you decided to approach Alessia after practice and finally ask her out because her attempts at flirting were getting painful for both parties at this point, and you wanted her to be yours already, knowing Alessia might never actually ask you out by herself.
You entered the locker room and saw the blonde intensely reading something on her phone. You slowly walked over to her, but she didn't sense your presence, so you sat down in the cubby next to hers and glanced over at her, thinking she must have been reading a text. What you didn't expect her to be looking at was an article titled "Flirting 101: Do's and Don'ts When Flirting with Someone."
"Are you googling how to flirt?" you asked with a small laugh. Alessia practically jumped ten feet in the air, startled at being caught. She didn't know what to do. She knew she couldn't deny it because you very clearly saw what she was reading. She was staring at the ground blushing and having an internal debate when you said, "you know, asking the person out on a date might be a good start."
This time she looked up at you.
"What?"
"Ask me out on a date."
"What if you say no."
"I don't think I could say no to you."
"Y/n, will you go on a date with me sometime?"
"I would love that, Alessia. Is this why you have been randomly complimenting me and told me that cheesy pickup line?"
"Maybe," Alessia said as she looked down shyly. She couldn't believe that you actually said yes to her.
"I think that that's adorable. I can't wait for our first date. I have to get going because Katie is my ride and she will not hesitate to leave me behind, but text me the details of the date and I will be there." You told her as she was still looking down, not believing this was actually happening.
"See you tomorrow." You said as you lifted her chin up and left a lingering kiss on her cheek before you stood up to grab your stuff and leave.
"See you tomorrow, y/n," she called after you a second later after she recovered from the unexpected kiss.
"God, that was about the most awkward thing I have ever witnessed, Lessi," Leah said as she appeared from where she had been in her cubby.
"Oh my god, were you in here the whole time?"
"Unfortunately," Leah replied but with a smirk, happy for her friends.
#alessia russo x reader#woso#woso x reader#arsenal women#arsenal#arsenal x reader#alessia russo imagine#awfc x reader#leah williamson#katie mccabe
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can u do smth where ethan buys reader a promise ring pls 🥹 ur fics are amazing 💜
Paper Rings, Ethan Landry [ ONESHOT ]
— i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings
non-gf ethan landry x gn reader -> dating
note: THIS REQUEST AHHH i've been waiting to base a fic off of this song for a while i kiss ur head and i'm glad you enjoy my fics !!
warnings ! — none, just a whole lot of tooth-rotting fluff! + reader doesn't have a specified gender but this was written with an afab reader in mind — nothing points to this fact though ! :)
you and ethan hadn't been together for all that long, a year and a half at most. it took him a while to comprehend the depth of his feelings for you and it was really scary for him.
growing up having been pressured to constantly be as good as or better than his older brother really messed with his head. he constantly had doubts that he wouldn't be good enough for you and that you deserved someone better — someone that wasn't him.
over the course of the first few weeks you and ethan had actually been together, there was cute little dates, hand-holding, giggling into little (sometimes awkward) kisses and him trying to get a grasp on his feelings.
majority of the time he couldn't quite put a finger on what emotions he was feeling. sometimes he thought he was angry when he was really just sad, sometimes he thought he was anxious when he was actually excited.
with you, though? he'd never understood an emotion so clearly in his life.
his heart was filled with love for you, that he knew. love so pure and soft and gentle that it felt like almost nothing could tarnish it. you made him understand himself better — you encouraged him when he would beat himself up over bad grades, you loved him; and he loved you too.
that was precisely the reason why he found himself buying you a promise ring. he'd seen you eyeing a specific one each time you shopped together and you'd talked about promise rings to him a few times.
originally, he didn't know how to feel about those because what if it jinxed your relationship? what if you ended up splitting off and going your seperate ways?
however, after a few weeks just spent thinking it over — all up in his head about it; he decided he wanted to get you one. it'd be a surprise, of course.
one night he had your hand next to his, a measuring tape over the width of both of your fingers. he acted like he was simply comparing handsizes, laughing when you pointed out that he was measuring the wrong way.
"oh, you're right, baby," he chuckled but made a mental note of the size of your left ring finger.
the next time you went to the mall together he kissed your cheek gently before pulling his hand away from yours. "i'll be back, angel," he told you, "just need to go to the bathroom."
you nodded and sat on a bench in the food court, mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you waited for him.
he made sure you weren't looking before he snuck off to the jewellery store, wanting to be as quick as possible so you wouldn't get suspicious. as soon as he was being served, he told the employee the exact ring and size.
it was made to be, it seemed, when the older woman told him that was the last of that ring in that size they had in stock.
he smiled brightly and thanked the woman, paying (quite a hefty price) and slipping the little box into his pocket. he'd get a matching one for himself later, he thought.
when you'd both gotten back to your apartment (which pretty much belonged to the both of you now), he'd sat down with you on the sofa. he kissed your hands gently and pulled you into his chest, the two of you sitting there together in silence for a few minutes — just in eachother's company.
he felt his stomach bubbling up with nerves but pushed them back down. nothing was going to ruin this moment. he cleared his throat to which you perked up, pulling away from him to look into his eyes.
"i don't know much about how to do these things without being awkward," he mumbled as his eyes looked anywhere but at you.
"i wanted this to be special and i know that it's been hard... dealing with me and all, but now i know that i can trust you. i really feel like.. like you understand me better than anyone else ever has before and i can confidently say that i love you."
he took a shaky breath, a smile plastering itself onto his face.
"i know we're still young but i truly think i want to spend the rest of my life with you," he went on as your eyes widened in fear somewhat. "th— this isn't a proposal!" he quickly reassured you, to which you calmed.
he pulled the box out of his pocket and presented the ring to you, "not a proposal — but a promise that one day, there will be one."
he watched as your eyes lit up, tears gathering along your waterline as you let out a choked sob with a smile. you hugged him tight and took the ring, holding it tenderly in your hands.
ethan watched as you slipped it onto your left ring finger, kissing his cheek and then his lips.
"thank you so much, eth. it's beautiful, i love you."
the brunette-haired boy looked away, bashful before turning back to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "there's honestly nothing i wouldn't do for you."
you admired the ring before glancing at his own left hand, "where's yours?" you asked with a frown.
he laughed awkwardly and chewed his bottom lip, "didn't have the money to get it but i knew i had to get yours today."
ethan looked up, confused as he saw you get up from the couch and heard the jingle of your keys. "where are you going?" he asked, his brows furrowed.
"we're going to get your half of the promise."
your boyfriend simply stared at you, a puzzled look on his face. "i don't have enough money though? i just said that."
you smiled at him, eyes squinted slightly, "i'm buying it. promises are fifty-fifty."
i loved writing this sm omg
#— river's sticky notes ✩˚｡⋆#— anons ★#— river's inbox 💌#fanfic#writers on tumblr#ethan landry#scream 6#x reader#ethan landry x female reader#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry x gender neutral reader#ethan landry x male reader#ethan landry fluff#fanfiction#scream#scream oneshots#jack champion#jack champion x reader
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Since we have officially entered the Aries' season I thought I should honor the fact that it's the Darkling's birthday! 🎉🎊
(No, we don't know his exact birthdate but we know he's an Aries. Anyways)
To celebrate it let's remember some facts about him.
Even though he was a Shadow Summoner, he loved bright colors. Blue, red, purple but most of all the color of sunlight.
Since we mentioned that he was a Shadow Summoner, isn't it endearing and ironic how he feared the dark when he was a child?
Once he didn't sleep for two nights because his mother had left him in a tent without a lantern.
He loved sweets! Cakes, pies etc. but his two favorites were a cake with cherries and sweet cream from Kerch and candies coated in sesame from Shu.
He had trouble mastering his powers as a child. He felt embarrassed for the fact that he couldn't make the Cut at the age of 13.
He could play the violin. 🎻
He was really intelligent from a very young age. Until the age of 13 he could speak three languages fluently and could read people and their behavior like an open book.
He was awkward and felt uneasy around children his own age since Baghra always kept them on the move and insisted not to let anyone touch him or for him to get close to someone.
He never met his father although he kept asking about him to his mother and wanted to meet him. The only thing he (possibly) ever knew was that he was a Heartrender.
He loooved nature. The trees and forests. The smell of them. Especially the evergreen trees. He even decorated his room in the Little Palace with carvings of trees.
Oh and he loves animals too! In the "Demon in the Wood" he got excited in the thought that he would see white tigers for the first time and Leigh once mentioned that he's kind to animals (we even saw that in "The Tailor" when he took time out of his duties to visit his horses, pat them and whisper to them soothingly).
And he actually saw those white tigers eventually.
Apparently he has great good looks to the point that he attracts others (and especially girls) like magnet since forever.
And his life was full of sex so he was experienced with it (Alina, your opportunity to fuck around and find out was literally right there).
The author confirmed (in 2014-2015, years before even the show came out) that he indeed harbored strong feelings for Alina and believed that they were destined for a future together (my man was ready to buy IKEA furnitures for their future house😭😭).
He had many, many half-siblings (one of them was a mermaid) and throughout the centuries he sought them out, out of a need for kinship, companionship and a desire to not be alone (🥲🔫)
This one is especially sad. He wasn't conceived out of love.
On another note though, his smell has been described as the smell of winter, forests and of the night.
In a solar eclipse his powers wouldn't be affected.
He's the Grisha with the most aliases in the Grishaverse (that's what living in a persecuted environment as a child does to you).
It's confirmed by the author that he was created after fantastical villains that she used to love, so please let that rumor that he was inspired after her abusive ex finally rest for good.
He had indeed fallen in love many times in the past but he kept witnessing the people he loved die from their mortality. At some point he just gave up on love and became more and more closed off. (Let's talk about the break he never had💀)
We might not know which person was the first he ever fell in love with, but we know which was the last one: Alina.
Do you remember those countless letters Alina was sending to Mal in "Shadow and Bone"? Well, the Darkling not only kept them secretly but read ALL off them.
He has a throat-neck fetish. And it's probably canon. The way he kissed Alina's throat every chance he got, the way he once nipped it, the collar and how he was always touching it.
According to Leigh, he didn't start wanting to be King. But this ambition came eventually after deeming it the only way to change things.
Kaz has been described as more selfish than Aleksander.
Well most of them turned out to be sad and tragic but that's because he had a tragic life and he himself was a tragic character.
Happy birthday to one of the best and most iconic book characters ever created. 🎉🎊
#and today we have a solar eclipse 👀#HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT LITTLE MEOW MEOW#I miss that fucker 🥹#the darkling#pro darkling#aleksander morozova#pro aleksander morozova#darklina#pro darklina#alarkling#pro alarkling#grishaverse#shadow and bone#alina starkov#grishaverse trilogy
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Twisted Wonderland Reaction Part 17 ~ Special Edition
Hello everyone!
So…it’s been a while since I’ve made one of these. Almost 2 years to be exact. But after book 5 forever changed how I engage with twst (for better and worse), I haven’t really been up to doing reaction posts anymore. Also after book 5 I actually began focusing more on the jp server since there were many things in the official translation that I found…lacking to say the least.
But when twst jp released this mv on April fools day, I just knew I HAD to talk about it! I’m actually surprised more people aren’t. Probably the biggest thing about this mv is that in a lot of ways the narrative of book 5’s ending has changed now we have context to how NRC Tribe performed. I’ve seen a lot of posts on the bird app saying things like it makes sense now why they lost the VDC.
I will say, this is definitely NOT a perfect performance. But as a former dancer with WAY too much time on their hands, I decided to analyze this. So for context, I did a mix of ballet and jazz for eleven years and in 2017 I decided to return to dance and have been dancing consistently ever since. To judge this fairly, I watched the MV several times, four times per member, (do the math and feel free to judge me). And with that, here are the things that stuck out to me the most.
He is beauty, he is grace, HOW HE HELL DID HE NOT KICK EPEL IN THE FACE?!
Synchronization/symmetry
The lack of synchronization was the first thing I noticed, ESPECIALLY in the first 30 seconds. The footwork is sloppy and Deuce and Ace in particular aren't as sharp with their moves as the other five. Rook seems to be the only one doing the choreography correctly because one point at 0:25 (and again at 3:31) where he bends his knee higher than the others and thanks to those fuckass uggs standing out so much, I couldn’t unsee it. At 1:03, 1:07, 2:07, and 3:00 Ace’s form is noticeably off as well.
And this may just be a personal hangup of mine but I found lack of symmetry between the boys at 1:14 very odd. Like, I don’t know how I can describe it but the way Epel tried to take center stage during his and Vil’s duet gave me the impression that wasn’t originally in the routine. At 1:13 there’s a split second where you can actually see Vil looking down at Epel like “...wut?” I immediately thought about that moment right before they go on stage where Epel offers to take on Vil’s solo’s because he looks so weak but Vil refuses. I wonder if Epel trying to take center like that is a callback to that exchange. Unfortunately, since the boys were perfectly symmetrical for the rest of the song, it stands out as awkward all the more.
Kalim and Jamil
Lowkey, Kalim and Jamil both carried this performance after Vil. The little magic with the mic was a super nice touch and Kalim shines the most during the dance break. He seems to be having fun with it despite being in agony. What’s interesting is that after Ace and Deuce, Kalim is the most out of sync but he pulls it off well since I can tell he’s been on the stage before. Both he and Jamil are natural performers.
Vil’s movements
So, this has been something of a headcanon of mine but it seems to have been proven correct with this mv. Vil has always struck me as someone who probably has a lot of classical dance training but little training in other styles like hip-hop or jazz. His movements are very graceful and elegant but almost…too elegant? I don’t know if that makes sense but they seem very smooth for this style of choreography.
AND THAT FUCKING GRAND JETE!!! Absolutely flawless but it feels SO out of place here! I will give him credit though, that is one of the most difficult jumps to pull off in ballet, and the fact he did that in fucking 5-inch heels right after the most mentally and physically traumatic episode of his life, it’s beyond impressive. And the fact he landed perfectly and so seamlessly moved into his final solo is even more remarkable. Still, that was the most jarring element of this choreography and I think it would still be out of place even if this was a “perfect” performance.
Now here’s where I potentially piss people off
All in all this is a perfectly imperfect performance. Being completely objective and not taking my love for these characters into account, I honestly still don’t see how they lost. Well, I understand why but it still is fucked to me. I can understand Vil feeling like NRC Tribe didn’t perform their best since they were exhausted and hurting from dealing with his overblot. I can also understand that they were probably a lot more polished in rehearsal. But here’s the thing, for a group of amateurs, I would probably expect this quality of performance even if they hadn’t had to deal with Vil’s overblot.
First off, the choreography is rather complex for beginners and requires a lot of synconization to look correct. But perfecting syncronization alone can take months and in larger groups sometimes even longer. To give an example, last year at my dance school, the kpop class did a TWICE cover that took us the better part of eight months to learn and we had to learn the chours in groups of three. And even then we still fucked up alot because again, none of us are professionals. If NRC Tribe can look like this after only ONE MONTH of training, that’s extremely impressive. Vil, can you train me please?? XD
As for having to perform right after beating OB Vil’s ass, again I was expecting to see A LOT more noticeable errors. And knowing what they all just went through honestly makes me admire this all the more. The thing is, it’s easy to be beautiful when everything is right and perfect in your world. But being able to smile even when you’re struggling and your heart is breaking is even more beautiful still. Personally, I don’t think I could perform even half as well if it were me.
It’s unfortunate that we don’t have a MV of Neige’s performance so I could do a fully fair analysis. But if we look at all the evidence, it seems to me that NRC Tribe still gave a better performance. And I think the true tragedy here isn’t even that NRC Tribe lost since I think that was always a given considering the dynamic NRC and RSA has.
The true tragedy, I think, is that Vil could be convinced that this perfectly imperfect performance was still inferior to Neige’s. But I’ll leave that for another time.
#twisted wonderland#jas reads twst#twst book 5#twst book 5 spoilers#nrc tribe#vil schoenheit#epel felmier#jamil viper#kalim al asim#ace trappola#deuce spade#rook hunt#shut up jas
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Soooooooo...basically a rewrite of Hobie's entire part in the movie? Except more awkward teenager and much, much more rambling. This does feel a bit all over the place so...enjoy, if you wanna.
Meeting Gwen for the first time wasn’t anything particularly memorable or anything like that, Hobie didn’t think. It was a simple thing, really; LYLA had found an anomaly, Miguel had reluctantly put Hobie on the case, Hobie had gone out of his way to ramble on about how he wasn’t a cog in Miguel’s system (man looked like he wanted to punt Hobie out of the office, and that just added more pleasure to his insubordination), and then Jess had sort of insisted that Gwen tag along to learn how to inter-dimensional travel and also how to deal with the anomalies as they occurred. Her exact words, if he remembered right, were “she needs to learn how to deal with these things in a team setting, and also maybe get some more friends her own age” or something similar that Gwen had immediately protested against.
He’d protested as well, as if it would change anything, as if these two would take him any serious. Hobie told them that he didn’t believe in teams, or in teamwork, and Jess put her hand on his shoulder, looked him in the eye, and told him very sternly to get over himself. Miguel was in the back, rubbing his hand over his face with one hand and waving the other at them in a motion that screamed ‘just go’. The mission itself was fine, easy job for a sole Spider let alone two Spider-People, but Gwen had been pricklier than he’d been expecting. He thought she was spunky, but particularly withdrawn for a Spider, and she’d snapped at him several times before the mission had ended. Afterwards, they’d gone their separate ways and he didn’t think too much about her, focusing on being the one and only Spider-Man (Spider-Punk, the newspaper headlines screamed, and he’d hated the name with a passion when he was younger, but found the title had grown on him over the years) in Camden.
Then they got paired together again. And again. And again. There’d been a genuine moment of concern that Miguel and Jess were punishing him for something, because they kept sticking him together with this small wisp of a child who looked like she wanted to bite his head off any time he asked her anything remotely personal, whether it be about her family or even her favorite kind of music. Hobie couldn’t even begin to figure her out, but decided that if he kept pushing, especially if they kept getting put on missions together, she’d have to crack eventually, right?
(It was worse when he realized she was actually older than him, even if it was only by three months. She held it over him for days, blocking his every question and prompt with “I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m older than you are.” Like a kid. Like a little kid, and how in the hell was she older than he was? It was unjust, it was.)
The sad part was, Hobie wasn’t even sure when things changed, with Gwen. Rather, he wasn’t quite sure why they had changed, though far be it from him to criticize someone’s changing of their mind. They’d gone on a mission, catching an inter-dimensional Doc Ock in some bizarre backwards universe made up of graffiti art that had her particularly subdued and snappish with him; she’d just given a thirty second rant that had cut Hobie deeper than he’d wanted to admit and they were swinging around searching for the Doc in a strained silence that had lasted until they’d found the fucker; at some point in the fight, the Doc had her pinned and Hobie’d yelled for her to cover her ears, and used his guitar to blast the scientist off of her at the last second, using his regular webs to yank her from where she’d been embedded in the ground; they’d, somehow, ended up victorious back at HQ and handed the Doc to Margo to send back to the proper dimension, went to Miguel and Jess to report their success. Hobie set his watch to his home dimension, the portal had opened up, and then —
“Hey, can I…” He’d half-turned to Gwen, eyes wide on his mask to showcase his paying attention as Gwen held her left arm tightly in her right hand, pointedly not looking at him and using the longer left side of her hair to cover her face. She’d taken off her mask, though Hobie had never really felt comfortable enough in the Spider Society to do so very often, and he could see the uncertainty in her face as she finally spit out, “can I…crash with you? For a bit?”
“Like, in my dimension?” Hobie’d asked, and she rolled her eyes so hard that her head followed the motion automatically. Something warm and pleased grew in his chest as she pushed past him roughly, muttering something sarcastic under her breath, and he didn’t even notice Jess watching them from behind as he nudged her shoulder playfully while they walked through the portal together.
Gwen started hanging around more after that, even when they had to keep moving from abandoned house to abandoned house in order to keep a roof over their head for the night. She didn’t stay over every night, but it was often enough to leave some of her shit laying around for him to trip over. He discovered she like playing drums and incorporated her into his band, more or less the only permanent member aside from him despite the inter-dimensional shenanigans. ‘Gwen’ became ‘Gwennifer’ (she threw her drumstick at him) which then became ‘Guinevere’ (he’d barely dodged the swing she leveled at him for that) became ‘Gwendolyn’ (she’d webbed his mouth shut) became ‘Gwendy’ (she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, but he’d caught the pleased look on her face for that one). Over time, she started opening up about her dad, her indefinitely on-hold Spider-Woman work in her home ‘verse, her Peter…
Miles.
The name lit up something at the back of his head, the first time she’d mentioned it, and Hobie couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. It wasn’t until she mentioned something about a particle collider that it came rushing to Hobie; he was Miguel’s “original anomaly”, the one who had apparently weakened the multiverse apart enough for the Spider Society to be kept busy damn near constantly. Hobie could respect a Spider who could throw the multiverse into chaos like that, even if was accidental and wasn’t even his fault to begin with. He tried prompting her, through trial and error, into talking about Miles damn near constantly; it worked better than he’d hoped, and for a hot minute all she would talk about was Miles. What he looked like, what he’d say, the way he’d stuck his hand to her hair when he’d first gotten his powers and she’d had to cut it off on the sides (“and you kept the hairstyle?” “Fuck off, Hobart — ” “Ew, no thanks mate, ‘o the fuck is Hobart — ”). She talked about him so much that Hobie felt like he knew the damn kid all on his own without ever having met him.
And then Gwen got herself assigned to a mission in his universe. Not only that, but she was allowing herself to miss her friend enough to stop off to visit when she went, though she had a brief moment of panic before she’d left and she’d called him for ‘moral support’ or whatever it was she’d hissed at him when she called. Hobie felt proud of her for that, even though he couldn’t find his chucks the day she left and he nearly brained himself tripping over her damn jumper when he headed to the bathroom.
It was her first mission on her own, officially, and Hobie was pulling out damn near every trick in the book to keep him from worrying. He was sitting at her drum set where they had it set up in a practice warehouse, listlessly banging on the cymbals when his watch went off a second time. Heart jumping up into his throat, Hobie answered the call and whipped his way into Mumbatten, which was exactly where Gwen was not supposed to be at this current moment. He’d barely even taken the time to suit up, nearly forgot to grab his damn guitar, and didn’t even pause to take in the situation before strumming the thing and bursting through what looked like a barrier. He’d heard Gwen and Pavitr shout, but he’d landed with his back to them and then he’d gotten rushed by Pav the second he caught his breath.
Then he’d turned fully, pushed Pav off of him, and nearly swallowed his tongue when he caught a good, solid look of him, dressed in his black suit with pops of red; it had to be Miles, the Spider-Man-Who-Wasn’t-Supposed-To-Exist-In-Earth-1610-Specifically, which for some reason both was a surprise and yet was completely expected.
“This the kid from 1610?” He asked first, like he wasn’t fully aware of who Miles was to begin with. Gwen’s head rolled, a sure sign she was rolling her eyes, and he’d glanced her way briefly before looking back at Miles, who was complaining to Gwen. He’d gotten close enough when Pav thanked him for destroying the barrier in time to hear him (“I weakened it!”) and shot a quick demonstration of “use your whole palm, mate, not just your fingertips”, complete with hand visuals. Miles looked, low-key through his mask, like he wanted to strangle him. Gwen looked away, but Hobie could tell her shoulders were shaking from held-back laughter.
He wanted to crawl into a small hole for a minute. For a hot second, Hobie debated the pros and cons of potentially just jumping back through the portal and going home, there were three Spiders to deal with the Dalmatian over there, he wasn’t really needed for this, was he? He was distracted for all of two seconds before remembering there was supposed to be a fight going on, and he was supposed to be helping, and that Miles was standing in front of him.
So, naturally, once he was back online and fully focused, he opened his mouth and immediately put his foot in it.
“What’s up with his suit, is he bleeding from the armpits?”
“Wha-Who even is this guy?” Gwen introduced them quickly, Hobie talking even faster as they prepared to fight the Dalmatian-looking dude in front of them, and though Miles looked slightly lost (“I thought you hated labels?”), Hobie had hope that they’d be able to get along swell.
Then he stuck his foot in it again.
“Gwendy, you left your jumper ‘round my place.”
“What’s a jumper?”
“It’s a sweater!”
“How many sweaters do you own?”
And, because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut to save his own damn life even as Gwen clearly tried to salvage that mess, Hobie continued.
“And your toothbrush.” He kind of wanted to die. What was the deal with this spotty dude? Hobie wondered if the dude would shoot him into another dimension if he asked him nicely enough. He hated asking nice though, and it was pretty obvious this guy happened to be the villain of the week (as it were), so his best bet was staying here. Shame, that. He was really fucking things up right about now, and he just knew Gwen was gonna give him shit for it later too.
Things happened…weirdly fast after that. They fought the Dalmatian, they lost the Dalmatian, Mumbatten’s AlcheMax began crumbling and they had to save the people. Normal Spider stuff, and Hobie was glad for the distraction — well, not glad glad, he didn’t want Mumbatten to fall apart and Pav was far too little a Spider to be dealing with this kind of cosmic mess — just because Miles took off with Pavitr and left him and Gwen to hold the building up. Even better, Gwen was all the way over there, so she couldn’t even give him shit for how he’d been acting the fool in front of Miles.
God, he just hoped it wasn’t noticeable. To Miles, at least.
Then after the building collapsing was the bridge falling apart, and Miles diving to save the Inspector. Hobie had skid to a stop next to Gwen, the both of them staring down as Pav tried to save the bus and his girl, and Miles tried to save the Inspector. Gwen’s eyes were wide, taking up the entirety of her face as she held onto the railing in a death grip with one hand, the other still outstretched; she’d grabbed Miles then, right before Hobie had gotten there, and for a moment he wasn’t sure why she’d done it.
“He’ll be aces, yea?” Hobie said to her quietly, eyes still on the bridge.
“It’s a canon event. He’s interfering with it.” Gwen said somberly, and Hobie scoffed with a roll of his eyes — she sounded just like Miguel, there, for a hot moment, and he wondered if he should begin extracting them both before the man’s ideals managed to get in any deeper — but Gwen didn’t seem to notice him. When the bridge finished collapsing, she didn’t hesitate to jump over the rail, yelling for Miles as she did so. Hobie followed after her, beelining his way to Pav first to help him with the bus. Once it was on solid ground, relatively speaking, the passengers disembarking and Pavitr trying to smooth things over with his girl, Hobie turned on time to see Gwen lift a giant piece of rubble to reveal —
Miles. Holding a small child, with the Inspector right behind him. Both were fine, probably filled with adrenaline but relatively unharmed, and Pav’s girl was rushing past them all to embrace her father. Hobie followed her, not to the Inspector, but to Miles; Miles, who had been facing Gwen, who hadn’t heard him approach and therefore wasn’t anticipating it when Hobie grabbed his shoulders from behind and shook him eagerly.
“Miles, my guy!” He said cheerfully, and even the city cheered for them (and wasn’t that just novel, that’s never happened to Hobie before), and then —
There was a hole, big and black and looking similar to the spots on the Spot, sucking in pieces of Mumbatten. There was Jess, and her team of Spiders trying to keep it contained (points to Spider Society!) and her just blatantly blowing off Miles in a way that made Hobie’s hackles rise and ordering them all back to HQ to talk to Miguel (negative points for their diligent leaders!). Panic spiked at that, briefly, for Hobie; he leaned on Miles and tried to get him out of it, get them both out of it, but Miles shrugged him off in order to practically run into the belly of the beast with his fist in the air like he’d won something. Hobie dropped his face into his palm, but followed along anyway. Just to see what was going to happen.
Miles looked slightly awed when he took off his mask, which was kind of an ego boost, if Hobie was being honest; his whispered comment was met with one of his own comebacks (“how are you even cooler under the mask?” “I was this cool the whole time.”) that made Gwen press her lips together as she repressed her snort of laughter. Hobie glowered at her slightly, and she rolled her eyes in the opposite direction. Even Jess looked somewhat amused, and Hobie grunted softly at both of them.
He tried, honest to god, he tried so hard to keep Miles from meeting Miguel. Once he’d realized that Gwen had met with Miles and yet told him nothing about the Spider Society, told him nothing about how he fit into all of this as the supposed “original anomaly” (he had ThoughtsTM about Miguel’s thought process, is all, ThoughtsTM that he didn’t necessarily have time to delve into at this specific moment) — he couldn’t let him walk in blind. Miles didn’t deserve the way Miguel was gonna treat him on a normal day, short-tempered and blunt as the man was, let alone a day where a mission was fucked up bad enough that the BBG got away and another dimension was in peril of nonexistence. There was just no time to prepare him, not right at this moment, and he’d completely messed up his entrance to begin with so it wasn’t even like Miles would wanna even listen to anything Hobie had to say, let alone believe it, so…Hobie stalled.
Easily reaching out and grabbing anything potentially useful, Hobie distracted Miles as best he could. Bet this don’t even do anything. Why’d you wanna join up anyway? (The scoff Miles gave him when Hobie told him to make his own watch was not cute, Hobie did not find it endearing at all, and he was shit at lying to himself) What’s your set up — loving parents? (He was thankful Gwen was walking ahead of them for that one and not paying them any attention; the way he’d leaned on that unused portal more or less broadcasted his interest, especially combined with the way he’d fallen through it. He was also infinitely grateful Miles was too preoccupied to notice that blatant display). Hell, he even planted himself in front of the damn kid, sitting in the chair and stretching his legs out onto the table top so that Miles wouldn’t advance anymore, and felt his heart flutter in his chest when Miles simply pushed past him without even stopping.
Then it stopped when Miguel showed up, acting more Miguel-ish than usual. Miles greeted him brightly, holding up the empanada he’d gotten from the cafeteria, but Miguel was having none of it at the moment. Hobie glared at him out of the corner of his eye when he threw the empanada, then dipped out of sight in order to steal more tech that he needed; he lost track of what was happening all the way up to the loud crashing noise, and he’d popped his head back over to see Miguel yelling at both Gwen and Miles. Sniffing irritably, Hobie opened his mouth and was cut off immediately by Peter Parker from Earth 616 making his appearance. Miles was happy to see him, Hobie could hear it in his voice, and against his better judgement he went back to what he was doing.
When Miguel trapped Miles, way before literally trapping him in a cage, Hobie made his way to Miles’ side while keeping a small distance from him. He kept his eyes on him, watching how he ranted against Miguel’s idea of ‘keeping to the canon’, how he fought against the idea of letting one person die just to save others, how he argued that as Spider-Man they should be able to do both. Watched how he turned to his original allies, Peter 616 and Gwen and even Peni, and how they all couldn’t look him in the eye for longer than a few seconds. Encouraged him when it seemed like he needed it (“Here we go.” “Hobie, you’re not helping.” “Good.”). Miles realized it was a trap a second too late, and once Miguel had him caged, chaos began to descend upon them all. His friends were yelling at Miguel, who was yelling back, and Miles was panicking. He couldn’t break himself out, and Hobie’d had enough.
“Oi, Peter Pan.” Hobie hissed at him, and Miles stared at him with wide eyes. He didn’t touch the digital net, all too aware of the fact that it would draw attention from the others, but he spread his hands out just in front of it. Hobie repeated his advice from earlier, complete with visual demonstration, without speaking out loud. “Use your palms.” Miles seemed to take a breath at that, his shoulders lowering from around his ears as he pressed his hands fully against the barrier, palms and all. Since Hobie was the only one paying attention, he knew to brace himself when electricity started crackling up and down Miles’ arms; when the barrier exploded, he was the only one who wasn’t knocked over aside from Miles, who seemed to freeze for a sec when he realized he was free. He chuckled, smiling proudly when Miles’ wide brown eyes met his again, without the barrier this time.
Then Miles turned heel and booked it down the corridor, where the door was wide open and awaiting his exit. Hobie sort of regretted that breaking the door so it would stay open meant that the other Spiders also had easy access to go after Miles, but they were still trying to pick themselves up off the floor and that gave Miles a solid four second head start. It was the best Hobie could do for him, given the situation, along with one last thing.
Miguel yelled for everyone to go after Miles, and they complied. Hobie activated his watch, creating a portal to his home ‘verse. Sneering at all the Spiders rushing past him, Hobie shouted “for the record, I quit!” and threw his watch off once he was safely in the portal.
He crash landed towards the edge of the bed in the room, close enough to where he was aiming originally. Sighing heavily, Hobie sprawled out on the bed and listened to the drones flying overhead, watched as their lights illuminated the room he was staying in currently. Gwen’s jumper was still on the floor where she’d left it, her shoes dropped carelessly two feet beside it. (Seriously, her shoes were right there, did she really have to take his?) With a soft sigh and a quiet groan, he pulled himself back up, stretched, and started pulling shit out of his pockets. He’d actually grabbed a lot more things than he’d needed, courtesy of trying to hold the door for Miles, and he tossed aside the things he didn’t need in order to get started. Several other watches dropped out of his pocket as well, the ones he’d made before staying on him for safekeeping — one for him, one for Pav, one for Gwen.
Just because Miles didn’t want to make his own watch didn’t mean Hobie couldn’t make one for him.
#punkflower#spider punk#spider gwen#miles morales#hinted punkflower#like just a taste of it#spiderman atsv#more hobie pov of his part in the movie than anything else#starts before the movie events
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Habit ~ E.O.
A/n: This felt the way eating something for the first time in a longen time when you are it a lot as a kid? Does that make sense? Idk I just love it
Request: “...Enoch O’Connor x Male I beg of thee” by anon
Word count: 2200+
MASTERLIST
Jake was the most annoying person Y/n had ever met.
The problem with a boy shaking the very core of the way Miss Peregrine's Home worked, is that there was a set routine. Not just the same day, every day. Not just the same clothes. Not just the same activities and expectations, but also the same people. The same dynamics. Everything was clear and simple and predictable - as it was supposed to be. It was Enoch and Horace and Olive and Fiona and Claire and Emma and Millard and Bronwyn and Hugh and the twins and Y/n. They all had their chores, their meals, and their rooms. Wake up, do the exact same thing, reset the day, go to bed.
In some ways, Jake changing everything was nice. Emma was happier with him, and they were safer now. They'd always be safe now. Miss Peregrine didn't have to deal with her imperfect day, and they had lots of new friends.
Change was hard though, and unpredictable. Emma and Jake, and then Fiona and Hugh. And then suddenly everyone was a lot less okay with Enoch and Y/n pining for each other but never doing anything about it.
Enoch and Y/n had always been like this. They avoided each other despite everything, somehow having pulled it off for decades straight now. Anytime they did talk, the room seemed to go still. They were insatiable, starving for each other. Every look was too long, and yet too short. Every conversation saturated with so much emotion neither boy could handle it.
Being a teenager was hard.
But for decades, everyone had left it alone. At some point the distance and awkwardness and desperate yearning had become a part of the routine. Wake up, do what you did everyday, glance over the way Y/n's breath caught, a smile tugging to his face when Enoch brought something to life, ignore the way Enoch's eyes lingered when Y/n began to chat with a bird or squirrel or worm.
Even Fiona was good at it, and she was Y/n's sister. They had always been far more concerned with their own relationship as siblings. Two halves of one whole - a plant gift and an animal gift. Flora and fauna.
But now she was busy with her own crush, and without her there to fill Y/n's time, it was more and more obvious how ridiculously in love he was. Olive had met a girl in the other loop they'd joined who had wings, and the two had been having a ball flying around together - which meant Enoch was more available than normal as well.
Of course they ended up in the same space more often than they usually did.
The new kids weren't used to the pining. It wasn't routine, they hadn't learned to ignore it. And the more they pointed out that the way Enoch and Y/n acted wasn't a just-friends-and-family feelings kind of situation, the more the other kids acknowledged it too. Suddenly everyone was looking at the boys expectantly, and with all those eyes on them... it was hard to ignore their own situation even more.
This was especially hard on Y/n. He had always known he wasn't going to end up with some epic love like in the books. Even before the loop, everyone had marked him as insane and weird. His little sister could make flowers grow in the palm of her hand, and her older brother knew all the town secrets because the pets could talk to him. But after the loop? The options were so limited and he was gay - it wasn't going to happen. No way in hell that with one person he could even possibly end up with, who he liked, liked him back. That sort of thing was difficult to find even with several options. But one?
Not to mentioned he hadn't really come to terms with the fact that he wasn't straight. Everyone knew he was into Enoch, but outside of that they had no idea what was going on with his sexuality. He'd never opened up about it, and flat out denied anytime someone had asked. Even Fiona had nothing to offer in terms of information - he hadn't told her anything either. Which was weird, because they knew a lot about each other. She was his confidante.
He'd never even admitted it to himself.
That wasn't good enough for Leroy and Sofie though. They were two of the kids from the other loop, and they were determined to play match maker between the two boys. It was how a harmless game night had gone so terribly wrong. They had convinced Jake to talk about all the silly, immature party games he had heard of and to "experience the culture they were missing out on" all the kids from both loops had been dragged into several different rounds of truth and dare and spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven. Nothing happened for most of the people, who only fist bumped or took the opportunity to info dump in a space where the other person had no option to listen.
And then Enoch and Y/n got picked.
For the first ten minutes, both boys were completely composed. But Enoch had a very good understanding of time and as more than seven minutes passed, he grew agitated. "It's been long enough, let us out," he called.
When all that came back from the other side was giggling, Y/n got irritated too. Being this close to Enoch was bad enough without there being a foreseeable end in sight. "Guys. Guys!"
"Talk about your feelings!" Sofie called back, and a dozen pairs of feet could be heard on the stairs, leaving Enoch and Y/n. In a closet. Locked for who knows how long. Alone in an entire room, in the basement.
Miss Peregrine would put it together and come and get them before dinner, but... even that was a long way away.
It was quiet a long time, but eventually even Enoch couldn't handle it. He broke first.
"Are we just going to wait for Miss Peregrine?"
Y/n shrugged. "They all left, so... It's not like even if I did anything here they'd let us out."
"Did anything?" Enoch scoffed. "Did what exactly."
"I don't know," Y/n snapped. Both boys were rather hot headed and tended to interact with each other through biting remarks and snarky banter. These snippy words were familiar to them.
Enoch rolled his eyes. "I'm not just going to sit here that whole time. At least tell me what they think we need to share feelings about?"
Y/n shrugged. "Beats me."
Another king quiet and then Enoch seemed to soften. He had changed a lot since Jake too. He had been so defensive of Emma before, but now he saw the flaw in that. Emma and Jake were happy, and more than anything he... envied them. He wanted that. And he had wasted enough time keeping himself from it. If Emma could open her heart to getting broke to risk love and succeed... maybe he could too. "Y/n."
"What?" He was gorgeous. That withering look and unwavering attitude. Enoch loved that he could always keep up, matching any sass off or sarcastic comment. Often beating Enoch at what he had always considered as his own private game. A game he never lost at... until Y/n. Y/n who found his homunculus fascinating instead of disturbing and never scared at even the worst of Enoch's attempts. Y/n who was so awkward and brash with people, but so gentle and calm and caring toward animals. Y/n, who was his best self out in the woods with no shoes on and a smile on his face as he closed his eyes and listened to the wind through the trees, the birds singing, the bugs buzzing...
"Do you want to play Twenty Questions?" It was another of Jake's silly games. They had planned to play it after Seven Minutes in Heaven but, well, now they were locked in a closet.
Y/n shot him a withering look, cocking an eyebrow. "No."
Enoch's lips almost twitched into a smile. "Come on. Since when are you more of a buzz kill than I am?"
Y/n sighed. "Fine. Whatever." He looked at Enoch again and couldn't help but soften. They were both like this. Hard to touch, impossible to get close to. Rough and snappy. Except for those select few. For Enoch, it was the girls. Fiona and Claire had it the easiest; Olive had to work for it; Emma had gotten under his skin after Abe. For Y/n, there was no one who had worked their way into his good graces as well as Enoch had. He of course had softness for the kids, always taking to children who needed someone to have their back - even if they wouldn't admit it - but Enoch was still special. He always was.
Enoch swallowed a smile, matching Y/n's casual energy. They both leaned against the wall, Y/n crossing his arms over his chest and Enoch slipping his hands in his pocket. "You go first," Enoch encouraged. There was something playing in his eyes, so bright it shone even in the low lighting.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, unsure. "Okay... what's your favorite color?" It was a dumb question - he already knew - which meant that if Y/n wasn't going to try neither was Enoch.
"Triangle." He smirked, then leaned forward. "Do you like men?"
There was a long silence in the closet. It felt... horribly fitting. Suffocatingly on point. "Why do you ask?"
"That's not an answer," he shot back.
Y/n's face burned. "That's a dumb question! You've never cared once in our decades of friendship and now you do? Why?"
"Because of Jake." Y/n almost began going off about how annoying Jake was, but Enoch cut him off. "I thought everything was set in stone. He were the group we'd always been. Abe proved it to me. We can get smaller, but never bigger. But then Jake came along and left behind everything for Emma. And I realized, maybe that's what love is. Maybe it's giving up what was for what could be. Because it's worth it. And if I made a leap like that, I won't even have to give anything up. All I have to do is take the first step."
His voice was so soothing, but his words were like shots of ice through Y/n's veins. It was a startling contrast. "Enoch..." He frowned, pursing his lips. He couldn't look at the other boy. "What would you do if I asked you that? You can't expect me to-"
"I do. I like men."
Y/n's jaw dropped. He snapped it closed after a beat, eyes trained on Enoch. The other boy seemed... excited. Genuinely. "And you're telling me this... for a reason. I assume?" Enoch just nodded. He wasn't just excited; he was nervous too. To be fair, so was Y/n. "Because you like me?" He asked, even more softly.
Enoch hesitated. Then nodded. "I... have. For a long time."
Y/n sighed, head falling back against the wall. A part of him wanted to argue, wanted to fight it. Wanted to stick his head in the sand.
But a much larger part of him knew that this had been coming for a long time.
“I thought when I told you I was into men it would be scarier.” Enoch laughed at Y/n’s confession, and it was only a split second before Y/n joined him. It was completely bizarre and borderline ridiculous. They’d been denying their feelings so long it had become habit. First out of hesitation. You never know exactly how someone would react to something. And then it was friendship. They were so close, and they’d gotten into a pattern of thought. They were only friends - nothing else was possible. But as everything around them changed, pattern had no room in their life anymore. So habit had taken over.
And now…
Y/n rested his head on Enoch’s shoulder, hesitantly taking his hand. Enoch sighed, squeezing back. Reassuring him.
“I like you specifically,” Y/n piped up.
Enoch’s smile was small as he tried to fight it, but the blush across his cheeks gave him away. “I like you too.” Y/n chuckled again, and Enoch echoed him. Like their energy was bouncing off of each other, growing. Becoming simply by the existence of the other.
“I don’t want our first kiss to be in here,” Enoch sighed. The closet was too much a metaphor, but even more-
“I don’t like that everyone’s forced so much onto us,” Y/n agreed. “Thank god they did, but-“
Enoch huffed with amusement. “But I don’t want them to have everything. Some things are just for you and me?” Y/n nodded and Enoch smiled, leaning close and pressing his lips to Y/n’s forehead. Y/n sighed, content. They stayed like that until the close door was opened, several pairs of curious eyes staring in at them.
“Are you together now?”
Y/n and Enoch exchanged looks and then scrambled to their feet, both shouldering the door open and slipping out. Everyone was laughing - even the ones who tried desperately to lock the pair back in the room.
And so the boys were out of the closet.
They took each others’ hand again when they settled onto the couch together, an everyone had to agree: that could be enough.
#male reader#Enoch O’Connor#miss peregrines home for peculiar children#enoch oconnor x male reader#enoch oconnor imagine#enoch oconnor x reader#miss peregrines home for pecuiar children imagine#miss peregrines home for peculiar children x reader#miss peregrines home for peculiar children x male reader#Finlay MacMillan#Finlay MacMillan x reader#Finlay MacMillan x male reader#Finlay MacMillan imagine
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hello, hi, don’t mind me, i’m just so casually plopping down in your ask box and thinking swissraindrop feelings with you, yup, hi, thanks—
whenever two of the trio get in a fight or an argument, it’s always the odd ghoul out that goes out to collect the others for a make-up cuddle session in the ghoul’s commons. when swiss and rain get into a spat, you can count on dew knocking on both of their doors, demanding that they buck up and stop being little bitches and come cuddle with him because he’s cold—
(this always earns a bit of an eyebrow from rain, as it’s almost the exact word-for-word request that rain will use on dew and swiss when they’ve gotten into a quarrel. but, usually he lets it slide and begrudgingly slinks out of their dorm to come cuddle with dew and swiss on the couch. dealing with two emotionally constipated ghouls in this relationship is more often than not a struggle, but rain’s had more than enough experience deciphering what they really mean through subtle hints and cues. when swiss is the odd ghoul out? oh, geez. this man’s literally knocking knocking on their doors and fucking kidnapping them by tossing them over his shoulder or under his arm and plopping them on the couch.
again, it’s a case of having come to learn behaviors, as both rain and dew have learned enough to know that if they truly didn’t want swiss to literally come collect them, they’d step away in the window of time it takes for swiss to gingerly step forward before lifting them up. swiss is deliberately slow with his kidnappings, and rain and dew have learned that it’s okay to reject swiss’ advantages if they were feeling overstimulated via touch or were simply too nervous of snapping at the ghoul and dragging him into their argument.
regardless, they’ve imprinted on each others psyche to such an extent that they hardly reject the other when it’s ‘collection time’. sometimes they even look forward to it, as it’s a moment where they can apologize to the other without making the situation awkward or forced. it’s their thing, you know?
when all three of them get in a fight? oh, fuck, it takes forever to ‘collection time’ to even start! because they’re all scattered about trying to look for the other two!!! they’re ridiculous, i love them.)
rain is typically cuddled in the middle, as both swiss and dew feel so relaxed feel rain’s gills flutter over their skin, whereas dew and swiss are pressed into their sides. dew’s body is always turned in towards rain, koala-grilling their arm for dear life while swiss is more so gently straddling rain’s side with how he has a leg thrown over theirs. swiss and rain always hold hands over rain’s stomach. swiss usually falls asleep first, and dew and rain follow after a possible therapy session between the two. swiss’ therapy comes the morning after.
there’s never any make-up sex within the first couple days of a fresh argument. they’ve all done it enough times to know it’s not healthy and just damaging towards themselves and their mates. lots of cuddles and kisses though, it’s disgusting. <3
OUGHHGHGHGHG you don't understand leaf, they're so important to me......(I'm sorry this turned out way sadder than I meant for it to be btw-)
It's rare the three of them fight, it's usually Swiss and Dew butting heads over something fucking ridiculous in Rain's opinion but when the three of them all fight? It's never something little. It's a divide so wide that the entire den feels it. They won't so much as exist in the same room as each other.
Rain's the most stubborn of them all, surprisingly. He's so firm in the belief that he was right, and the other two were wrong. Usually he is right, and it irritates him to no end when they won't listen. It's hard to get him to a breaking point, but when he breaks, it's never a clean quiet break. It's sudden and violent like a torrential downpour. He never yells, but his words have a tendency to cut deep.
Swiss has a temper, but not much of one. It's not easy to get under his skin, but once you do, you stay there. A constant and growing irritant. He says a lot of things he doesn't mean, things the two of them know he doesn't mean, but that doesn't change that it still feels like a slap in the face.
Dew tries to play up his anger. Make his flame appear to burn brighter than it is. Working him up is easy, laughably so, but Swiss and Rain never do it on purpose. Heat of the moment, things just happen. He gets so mad he puts off smoke. Dew is the one to raise his voice, his voice is the biggest thing about him and it's all he has on the two of them. He's the first to abandon an argument because he refuses to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him cry (though if he does burst into tears during their fights? they're cut short and forgotten).
Every second spent angry at each other is another knife in each of their ribs. It hurts to be mad at each other, to not have the comfort of their mates when their hearts ache so deeply. Loneliness hits Swiss first. Alarmingly fast. Guilt is the first thing Rain feels, and it makes him feel sick to his stomach, like he can't look at himself in the mirror without wanting to scream. Dew doesn't feel anything at all, it's just...Numb? It's a hollow type of sadness that gnaws away at him from the inside. He just doesn't speak at all.
Swiss is the one that breaks, that can't take the tension another second. Dew is easiest to find, practicing as an excuse to not process the hurt he feels. The little ghoul stares at him vacantly, with a tension in his jaw, waiting for the arguing to start again. It doesn't. Swiss apologizes and holds him tight until the icy facade thaws and Dew allows himself to be vulnerable again. Rain is normally in his room if not submerged in the lake, and he's the hardest to get to accept an apology. Not because he's still upset with them, but because he doesn't feel like he deserves it or the kindness they bring to him. It doesn't take too much to get through to him, Dew's soft voice and warm hands clasped always lift Rain's veil of self loathing.
They don't talk about it right after they've made up. Their bodies ache for each other too much, and their emotions are still a bit too raw. It's always a silent agreement of 'we'll talk about it in the morning' as they crawl into bed together. Rain lets himself cry when the other two have fallen asleep, everything truly hitting him at once, he clutches onto his mates like they might just slip through his fingers if he doesn't. He buries his face into Dew's hair and memorizes his scent, pulls Swiss' arm tighter around his waist and holds his hand close to his chest.
Silently grateful, every time, that he hasn't lost them or their love.
#answered#void rambles#swiss ghoul#multi ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#rain ghoul#nameless ghouls#swissraindrop#the band ghost#ghost the band
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Crayons and Cassettes
Chapter 12: Girls Day
You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. The rumor mill around Hawkins begins to spiral. Sage goes to the movies.
warnings: this fic is 18+ in previous and future chapters- minors DNI!! no use of y/n. (please let me know if I missed anything)
a/n: sorry for not updating yesterday- I wanted to take a little break. I hope this longer fluffy chapter makes up for it. let me know in the comments or my asks if you want to be added to the tag list! requests are open!
word count: 5.2k
Chapter 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 (coming soon!)
When you got a phone call from Robin asking if you wanted to hang out with her, you immediately took her up on her offer.
You were really looking forward to just having some one on time time with a friend. Although you’d definitely been welcomed into the little group, having an invitation to just hang out one on one made you feel like you really belonged.
Robin came over and watched you do your makeup, watching carefully so she could try to replicate parts of it. You taught her how to do the eyeliner look she liked too; there was a small mishap, however, it was nothing a makeup wipe and a little concealer couldn’t fix.
Once you were ready, the two of you piled into her car and she drove you into town. You stopped at some diner, a place called Benny’s, and the two of you squeezed into a booth that had probably seen better days.
“What have you been up to since I saw you at Steve’s?” You asked her, curious to know if anything exciting happened.
She shrugged, “Well, not much. I mainly did laundry and worked. But,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper after scanning the restaurant to see if anyone was listening, “a new girl started at work, and oh my god, she is so pretty.” She smiled.
You raised an eyebrow, “Ooh.. do you think she’s…?” You asked.
“I don’t know- that’s the problem. She just moved here from Chicago. Said she and her” she added air quotes, “‘partner’ broke up and she needed a change of scenery. Why she moved here I literally cannot fathom, but I don’t know.”
“Hey, I moved here for the exact same reason. It’s a good place- not expensive, plenty of jobs.. but that’s beside the point.” You rambled, “Did she like, say partner in a casual way, or like she was trying to not say another word?” You asked, leaning in and keeping your voices quiet.
“I-“ Robin was quickly interrupted by a scrawny high school age kid who wore the Benny’s uniform, asking what you guys wanted to order.
Once he was out of earshot, Robin leaned back in and whispered, “Like I said, I really don’t know. But she totally has a vibe about her.”
“A vibe?” You asked, a little confused.
“Yeah, dude.” She chuckled, “Like, she has a septum piercing and streaks of pink in her hair. I mean, you’ve at least got to break a few social norms to do that.”
You considered it for a moment, “Yeah, I guess so. But listen, I don’t want you to get your hopes up too much.” You said quietly. “I don’t want you to get hurt- emotionally or physically.”
She nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be careful. You forget I’ve been doing this for a while.” She chuckled. Robin had grown out of her awkwardness a bit as she’d aged, though there were definitely still traces of it in the way she would talk to loud when she was excited or would say something a little off topic because her mind ran faster than her mouth. It was endearing, though.
The teenager came back with your drinks; you’d ordered both ordered waters as well as milkshakes. You played it safe and got cookies and cream, while Robin ordered some strawberry-blueberry-chocolate-banana-peanut butter monstrosity. She smiled, “I’ve been coming here since high school, and I have perfected my milkshake order. You’ve got to try it.”
You wrinkled your nose at the thought, “Sorry, Robin, but I would probably die from all the sugar in that thing.” You laughed.
She shrugged and took a sip, smiling at the taste of the weirdly dark green liquid. You had no idea how it ended up that color, but you really didn’t want to know.
“How’s Eddie?” She asked, changing the subject from her love life to yours.
“He’s good. I haven’t been able to see him since you have, which kinda stinks. He’s been working a lot. I was thinking about stopping by the record store tomorrow just to drop in and say hi, but Sage goes there and hangs out while he works, so I don’t know if he’d be okay with it.” You sighed. You missed him.
“Does he not want you around her?” She inquired.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that. But we just kinda want to know where we’re at before bringing her into it. It’s not easy on a little kid to see their parent with someone new, you know?” You informed her, sympathetic to Sage’s feelings.
“Well, how do you feel about it all?” She asked.
You furrowed your brows, a little confused, “What do you mean?”
“Like, you know… how do you feel about keeping the two of you apart from the two of them? If you and Eddie do end up working out… have you thought about what you would be to Sage?” She asked.
You’d been so caught up in being worried about Sage’s feelings that you really hadn’t considered your own at that point. You pondered the possibilities for a moment, sipping on your milkshake. “Well… I mean, I’m okay with keeping it from Sage for a while. I think that’s normal for anyone who has kids, you know? Making sure your relationship is sound before introducing the concept to a child… and I really haven’t thought about what I would be to Sage..”
“Would you ever want to be her step-mom?” She asked, “That’s kind of the end goal there.”
You hummed and focused on the black and white liquid in your glass, “I-I don’t know. I don’t think I’m against it at all, but I don’t know if I’d be a good mom. Like, yeah, I know I’m good with kids, but I’ve always kind of approached them in almost a scientific way, if that makes sense? I know there’s a method to how you should talk and interact with them, at least in a school setting, in order to help them learn and grow. But I am really only trained for kids 6 and below. And I just… worry, I guess, about like.. messing her up or something.” You sighed, your insecurities showing a bit.
Robin reached her hand across the table and patted your arm, “Dude, you are like, the most motherly non-mom I’ve ever met. I’m positive you’d be good at it. Yeah, you’d make some mistakes, but every parent does. And I’m willing to bet that Eddie and Sage would help you through the process of figuring it all out.” She smiled.
“I guess so… but that’s probably years down the line before that would actually happen, so at least I’ve got time to get used to the idea.” You chuckled.
The waiter came back with your food, and you and Robin dug in. As you ate your french fries, a familiar face walked into the door: Mrs. Robinson, the other kindergarten teacher. She spotted you and you waved. She smiled and walked over to your table.
“Hey, Mrs. Robinson.” You greeted, smiling and cordial. “This is my friend, Robin.” You said, chuckling at the similar names.
“Oh, I know Robin.” She hummed, “She was one of my students years ago.” She’d definitely aged from the time Robin had been in her class, but she still looked and dressed the same. “And you can just call me Anne outside of work.”
Robin smiled up at her, “Nice to see you again.”
“Care to join us?” You asked, trying to be polite.
“Oh, thank you, but my husband is on his way here.” She smiled, then you saw it falter for a moment, “But I do have something to ask you.”
You raised an eyebrow, scooting over so she could sit next to you in the booth, “What is it?” You asked, having no clue as to what she could possibly ask you about.
“Well, I heard a rumor.. and I really just wanted to clear the air about it. I have no doubt in my mind that it’s not true, but I just wanted to confirm with you.” She said, waving her hand dismissively at the idea.
“What did you hear?” You asked, having a sinking feeling you knew where this was going.
“Well,” she started, clothing her purse close to her and leaning in, “I heard that you and that Eddie Munson boy were dating.” She chuckled, “Ridiculous, right? You wouldn’t go out with a boy like that- he’s not.. well, he’s from the wrong side of the tracks, literally.”
You felt Robin’s eyes on you, and you could practically feel her anger bubble, but you decided to keep it simple and professional.
“Oh, actually, Anne, I am. Dating Eddie, that is.” You smiled warmly, though you kind of wanted to punch her in the leg for how rude she’d been about it.
She looked utterly scandalized. “What?” She asked, clutching her purse in her lap, “Why- why would you ever do that, dear? Is your head screwed on straight?” She’d dropped her usually pretentious manner at this point, while you remained, outwardly, cool as a cucumber.
“Well, he’s a good man.” You said, slightly emphasizing the last word to correct her use of the word ‘boy’. “He has a good job, he just bought a home, and he is kind to everyone around him. I don’t see how that’s a bad thing.” You stated simply.
She sighed, grabbing your hand and holding it desperately. You wanted to smack it away, but you refrained, “Dear, he’s bad news.. he got a girl pregnant during his third repeat of senior year in high school. He notoriously deals drugs, he listens to that awful devil-worshiper music, he’s got these horrendous tattoos, and I mean, you’ve seen the way he dresses…and I heard that he was the leader of some Satanic-cult when he was younger.” She pleaded. “I don’t know how that precious baby girl hasn’t been taken from his home- it’s not safe.”
The longer the list became, the more agitated you felt, but you couldn’t let it show. If you made a scene, you’d only spur the rumors on. You took a deep breath, “Anne, he is a good man.” You reiterated, “Sure, he may have an eclectic sense of fashion and off-beat music taste, but that’s really all there is to it. He’s not a drug dealer, I like his tattoos, and the so-called ‘cult’ you’re referring to is just a storytelling game. It’s quite dorky, if I’m being honest.” You chuckled. “Plus, he is an amazing dad. He provides everything for Sage- she literally has anything she could ever want. And he’s involved. He came to every parent teacher conference, every recital, and he read to her every night to ensure she was excelling in school. He does a great job with her, and honestly, I think it’s a shame that more people done see that.” You paused for a moment before continuing, “You judge him based on his outward appearance and silly rumors you hear around town. But, if you had an actual conversation with him, you’d know that he is kind and genuine and absolutely hilarious.” You felt Robin smile with pride at your sentiments. “It’s quite foolish to think that anyone is not worth more than what you’ve heard about them, don’t you think?”
Mrs. Robinson shook her head and let your hand go, moving to get up, “I’m only trying to help you out, dear.”
“I appreciate that, but I can take care of myself.” You said coolly. “I’ll see you in our professional development workshop in two weeks.” You said, smiling like none of this phased you.
She left to go sit with her husband, and you looked over at Robin. “Woah, dude.. you’re like, the most level headed person I’ve ever met.” She mused.
Your smile turned strained, “Well I’m not about to be. Let’s go so I can say some choice words about what just occurred.” You said through gritted teeth.
Robin smiled and nodded quickly, digging cash out of her purse and slamming it on the table as the two of you got up from the table.
Once her car was out of the parking lot and onto the main road, your hands were flying around in the air as you yelled, Robin cackling in the drivers seat.
“What the absolute fuck was her problem?! First of all, how is it any of her business who I choose to be with? I don’t give a fuck about her old bag of a husband, so why should she care what I do outside of school? Secondly, how the hell can she just judge someone based off of shifty rumors that were spread about him fucking years ago! Like, how fucking shallow can you be! Lastly, how dare she have the nerve to sit there and call Eddie a bad dad! He’s literally one of the best parents out there, hands down. Ugh, I want to show her Sage’s scores alone compared to her entire class just to shove that shit in her face!”
Robin laughed, “Yeah, literally what was her problem?” She asked, “And oh my god, you should have seen her fucking face when you said you two were going out! She looked like you’d shit in her cereal!” She cackled. “And how were you so calm? Oh my god you should take up acting! You have an amazing talent there- you should really capitalize on it!”
You groaned, “Well if I was even the slightest bit rude to her, she could’ve confirmed that he was like, ‘ruining me’, or whatever else she and her friends talk about when they gawk at the freshly eighteen lifeguards at the pool.” That made Robin laugh so hard to the point where she had to pull over in a random parking lot so she wouldn’t crash her car. “She also could’ve come for my job somehow. So I really wanted to kill her with kindness. Really let her choke on it.”
“Hell yeah, man” Robin said, holding her sides as you joined her laughter. “But seriously, you should’ve seen her face when you didn’t give her any sort of a reaction. She looked like she was going to explode.”
The two of you howled in her car, eventually dying down and wiping stray tears and hiding your sore stomachs. Once the two of you recovered, you guys looked up and saw that you were actually in the parking lot of the record store and that Eddie was in the window, staring at the both of you with the most bewildered look on his face. He looked like a lost puppy, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side. You and Robin made eye contact again, paused for a moment, then bursted out into peals of laughter yet again.
Since he’d already spotted the two of you, you both d decided to head inside the store. You got out of the car, shut the door, and linked your arm with Robin’s as the two of you walked in, still giggling.
“What is going on with you two?” Eddie asked, your laughter infecting him and making him chuckle.
“Sorry- it’s really not funny.” Robin sighed, “It’s actually kinda shitty, but it’s ridiculous, so it’s a little funny.”
You nodded, releasing Robin’s arm so she could go look around the store while you turned to Eddie to explain. “My coworker, Mrs. Robinson, you remember her?” You asked.
Eddie nodded.
“Well, Robin and I went to Benny’s. She walked in and criticized my choice in men, essentially.. Were really laughing at how I basically stone faced my way through it and she looked like she was going to shit her pants.” You sighed, rubbing a hand through your hair.
“Oh..” he whispered, sticking his hands in his pockets, looking a little dejected.
“I defended you, though, I swear.” You assured him, reaching out to grab his forearm gently. “I didn’t just like, let her bad mouth you. I just kind of… told her off with a smile on my face.”
Eddie shook his head quickly, “Oh, I have no doubt that you did that. I just-“ he placed his hand over the one you’d placed on his arm, “I hate that you’re catching flack for this. Hawkins isn’t an easy town for the unconventional.” He whispered, looking a little sad.
You raised an eyebrow, “Eddie, my skin is thicker than you think. I can put up with a lot of shit. And I really don’t care what other people think, as long as we’re good.” Your hand dropped from his arm to his hand, “The literal only reason I waited was because of my job. Hawkins’ opinion of me is irrelevant.”
He sighed and nodded, leaning in and kissing your forehead gently, “You’re kind of a badass.” He mumbled into your hair.
Robin overheard that statement and smiled, “Hell yeah she is, man. You should’ve seen her- so calm and relaxed while also ripping that old fart a new one. It was great.”
You laughed, leaning into Eddie‘s touch for a moment before he had to get back to work. “Hope you don’t mind we stopped in. We weren’t planning on it.”
He waved a hand dismissively as he went back to alphabetizing records, “You guys are always welcome.”
“Is Sage here?” You asked in a whisper.
He nodded, “She’s in the break room in the back. I’m sure she’ll run out here soon- she’s almost finished with her snack. I bet she’ll be happy to see you guys. The poor girl has been so bored all day, I just can’t exactly give her much to do.”
You nodded and started walking around the store, deciding to get some music while you were there. You peeled over to Robin’s stack of cassettes, which consisted of the usual pop stuff you’d hear on the radio.
It didn’t take long for Sage to wander out of the back of the store. She first ran to Eddie, who pointed to you and Robin, whispering something you couldn’t hear. She beamed and ran over to where the two of you stood, yelling your names and pulling Robin’s legs into a bear hug before doing the same to your own.
“Hey, kiddo!” Robin smiled, “How ya doin’?”
“I’m so booorrreeeddd.” Sage groaned, tossing her head back dramatically. She looked just like her dad in that moment and you couldn’t help but giggle.
“I’m sorry, Sage.” You sighed, “But, I might have something you can do.”
She picked her head up and eyed you suspiciously, “What?”
You crouched down to her level, “I need help finding some good music. Can you help me pick some stuff out?” You asked, Robin chiming in a short, “Me too.”
Sage beamed, excited to have a mission to complete. She grabbed one of yours and one of Robin’s hands enthusiastically and led you two through the store, pointing at the sections she liked, which mostly consisted of kids records. You guys played along, picking up records and examining each one and making a show out of either putting them in your pile or wrinkling your nose and putting them back, making her laugh.
You were so focused that you didn’t notice how Eddie had lost his focus. His eyes trained on you as you humored his daughter, helping her combat her boredom. The corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile, his chest swelling with a mixture of pride and joy. He loved that the two of you were friends.
Robin spotted him while you were busy making Sage giggle by holding a record up to the light like you were inspecting a dollar bill. She smirked at him, seeing how he was watching you, causing a blush to bloom across his cheeks and making him whip his head back to his work quickly.
Robin turned back to you and whispered something in your ear, and you smiled and nodded at the idea. She then walked up to Eddie, clapping him on the back, causing him to jump a little.
“Hey buddy old pal.” She chuckled.
Eddie sighed and looked down at the girl, having a feeling she was up to something, “What do you want, Buckley?” He deadpanned.
She laughed loudly, “Oh shut up, I’m trying to help you.” She took a beat before nudging him, “You want us to take Sage off your hands for a couple hours? We were planning on going to see a movie later, so we could take Sage with us so she doesn’t have to sit around here all day. It would be a great way for the two of them to bond too.”
Eddie thought about it for a moment, wishing that he could’ve been the one going with the two of you instead of Robin. “Yeah, sure. Just- we aren’t telling Sage about us yet, so could you please be on your best behavior?” He asked her.
She smiled and nodded before spinning on her heel and going back over to you, nodding her head like a little kid who’d just been told they could have a sleepover. You smiled and continued searching the store with her.
After you’d been convinced to buy a couple random cassettes by Sage, you walked over to Eddie hand in hand with his daughter, “Hey, we’re ready to check out.” You smiled.
Eddie turned and nodded, heading to the register and trying not to get flustered by your smile and how you interacted with his daughter. He’d tried to date in the past, but everyone had quickly bolted when they’d heard about his kid. So seeing you embrace her, while also liking him, felt like some kind of miracle.
You placed your items on the counter and picked up Sage and placed her there as well, “So, dad, can Sage come with us to the movies?” You asked, acting like she was one of the girls. “We’ll only let her have all the popcorn and candy and soda she could ever want.”
Sage’s eyes lit up and she looked at Eddie excitedly, “Please?” She asked, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. You copied her face, trying not to giggle.
He looked between the two of you, “You guys are going to be the death of me.” He chuckled, “But sure, Sage. You can go. We’ll just have to make sure we brush your teeth extra good before bed, okay?”
She nodded and smiled like it was Christmas morning, squealing and hugging you. You smiled and patted her back, watching Eddie put your items in a paper bag. She released you and you leaned over the counter, resting your elbows on the cool surface, “You want me to drop her off at your house after?” You asked.
He nodded, “Yeah, I get off work at 6, so I should be home by the time the movie gets out.” He handed you your bag and Robin walked up to purchase her items as well.
Once the two of you had everything, Robin picked up the bags and you picked up Sage, holding her on your hip like you’d been doing so for years. Eddie wanted to pull you into a kiss right then, but he knew better. That would’ve really confused Sage.
Robin smiled, “Well, thanks for letting us kidnap your child. We’ll be sure to spoil her so she won’t sleep tonight.” She joked.
The two of you walked back out to her car, and you buckled Sage into the back seat. “Oh, I think I forgot something inside. I’ll be right back.” You smiled before closing her door and walking into the shop. Robin knew exactly what you were doing, but she turned and talked to Sage to keep her occupied until you came back.
You walked back into the empty record shop and Eddie looked at you from the counter, “Hey- everything okay?” He asked. You smiled and walked behind the counter, then grabbed his hand and dragged him to the back room, which made him raise his eyebrows raise in shock, “What are you do-“
Once you were out of the field of view of the parking lot, you pulled Eddie down to kiss you. He was a bit surprised at first, but after a moment, he leaned into it and kissed you back, his arms wrapping around your waist.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and he pulled you close, melting into your presence. After a moment, he broke the kiss slowly and looked down at you, a little starstruck, “What was that about?” He asked, smiling against your lips, neither of you having backed away.
“I don’t care what anyone thinks. I like you.” You whispered, making eye contact with him and keeping him close.
He hummed, “I don’t either. And I like you too.” He leaned in once more and kissed you again, humming against your lips before you two separated, stepping back. “By the way, totally unfair that Sage gets a movie date before I do.”
You chuckled, “Our first date was a movie.”
“Yeah, but there wasn’t movie theatre popcorn.”
“Well I’m free this weekend if you want to go.”
He nodded and pecked you one more time before you turned and walked out, Eddie smacking your ass lightly as you walked away, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes as you left the store.
The ride to the theatre was filled with terrible singing, as Robin insisted on cranking up the radio and rolling the windows down. Once you guys pulled into the movie theatre parking lot, you helped Sage get out and the two of you held her hands, lifting her up and swinging her as you walked into the theatre.
You guys picked a child appropriate movie to watch, bought the tickets, then raided the concession stand, buying way more snacks than the three of you could consume within a 2 hour window. You found your seats and got comfy, passing the popcorn bucket between the three of you, Sage in the middle and having to use both hands, as the thing was half her size.
The movie started and Sage was transfixed, giggling at the obvious jokes while you and Robin chuckled at the jokes they included for the adults in the room. When she’d had her fill of the snacks, Sage sighed and leaned against you, resting her little head on your arm. You moved it and allowed her to rest on your side as you wrapped an arm around her.
You looked over at Robin, who’d noticed the sweet scene, and smiled softly. She gave you a subtle thumbs up and turned her attention back to the screen.
Eventually, Sage fell asleep against you, her head having slowly drifted to your lap with tired eyes. You played with her hair as she slept, and you and Robin sat through the rest of the movie, whispering “that’s what she said” every time the joke could’ve been set up.
Once the credits rolled, you slowly moved and picked Sage up, letting her sleep as you walked out to the car. You had to rouse her when you got in, though, as she needed to sit up so you could buckle her in. She whined, but complied, sleepy and rubbing her eyes.
The ride over to Eddie’s was quiet, the radio playing softly as you watched Hawkins pass outside of the window. Robin pulled into Eddie’s driveway and you suddenly realized that you hadn’t been to his house yet.
Sage had fallen asleep again in the backseat, so you slowly got her out, telling Robin that you had it- don’t worry. She stayed in the car as you walked to the front door and knocked, rubbing Sage’s back as you waited for him to answer.
Eddie opened the door and saw his baby girl asleep in your arms. The sight made his knees feel a little weak. “Hey.” He whispered, stepping aside to let you in.
You smiled and walked into his house. It was cozy. There weren’t many decorations, but there was a killer music collection in the living room, bookshelves lined with cassettes and records and CDs, along with a few different ways to play the music. An acoustic guitar sat in the corner, covered in sparkly princess stickers, courtesy of Sage. A bin of toys sat beside the couch, and Sage had apparently set up a stuffed animal tea party at the bar in the kitchen. You really wouldn’t have expected anything else. It was perfect.
“Sorry it’s kind of a mess.” He whispered.
You shook your head, “It’s fine.” You adjusted Sage on your hip, “Where’s her room? I can just go lay her down.”
He led you down a hallway and to a room that looked like a rainbow sparkle unicorn barfed in it. It was so cute. You laid Sage down in her little bed before you and Eddie snuck out. You stretched as the two of you walked back to the living room, “You have a good day at work?” You asked, raising your arms above your head and stretching your back.
“Yeah. The usual, I guess. Seeing you was nice.” He smiled, reaching over and placing a hand on your waist, “Thank you for taking Sage. She was so bored. I feel bad- I really can’t afford a regular babysitter during the summers, so I just take her with me. There’s a tv and stuff in the break room, but having to entertain yourself for that long when you’re five years old is not easy.”
You nodded, “Of course, Eddie. I love hanging out with her.” You hummed, “And if she’s ever bored again, you can always call me and I can take her for the day.”
“You don’t have to do that.” He said softly.
“Yeah, I don’t. But Sage is a fun kid. Plus it’ll get me out of the house. I feel like I’m rotting in there.” You joked.
He chuckled, “Thank you.” He whispered before pulling you in for a hug. You hugged him back, taking in how he smelled: dust from the record store, a stale cigarette, coffee, and cologne mixed into an interesting and intoxicating smell that was distinctly him. You backed out of the hug, then looked down the hallway to ensure Sage wasn’t walking down it before leaning up and kissing him sweetly.
“I’ll see you this weekend?” You asked, looking hopeful.
He nodded, “Of course. I can’t wait.” He smiled.
You nodded and left his house, piling back into Robin’s car and driving off, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. Maybe you could let yourself start to think about the future a little more.
Tag List: @mcueveryday @bebe0701 @emma77645 @edsforehead @manda-panda-monium @nina211544 @wendyfawcett @whisperinthewoods07
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#singledad!eddie munson#singledad!eddie munson x reader#em#slow burn#strangers to friends to lovers#fanfic#teacher!reader#eddie x reader
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Cruel Summer - Part 9
First - Previous - Next
pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history…
word count: 11k
warnings: swearing, descriptions of Chrissy's death, fluff, slight angst, awkward situations/second-hand embarrassment (lmao but honestly some people need it)
A.N.: Part 9 is here baybee! Now that the honeymoon phase is passed we're gonna get some questions answered whether we like it or not -- also? don't ask me why like half of the taglist is refusing to work, I hate technology :|
You hadn’t planned on falling asleep, but the overall stress of the day added to a lack of any kind of proper sleep the night before had lulled you into a false sense of security and sleep’s gravitational pull.
You were out before you’d even realized you were dozing — the press of a hand gently shaking your shoulder jolts you into waking.
It’s dark now, and for half a terrifying moment, you have no idea where you are, pushing up and glancing around the room with your head on a bleary-eyed swivel. There is only the faintest light shining in from elsewhere, casting strange shadows, illuminating the unfamiliar room and all its furnishings in an uneven amber glow.
There is a figure kneeling on the dingy carpet in front of you, but you don’t have time to be scared before his familiar features come into focus and everything comes rushing back to you – the shag rug, the dark green walls, the outdated seventies furniture – Rick’s place on Lover’s Lake.
That’s where you’d found Eddie.
You feel your heart thump in your chest at the realization and use it to anchor yourself to the moment, to him, kneeling in front of you.
You breathe a marked sigh of relief and sink back into the dingy couch cushions as Eddie reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair back from where it has fallen into your face.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says softly.
You reciprocate the greeting, mumbling it as you crush a fist into your eye to wipe the sleep from it.
Somewhere in the very far back of your mind, you’re reeling with how exceedingly gross it is to know that you’d been sleeping on Rick’s couch.
You don’t want to know what kind of disgusting secrets are lurking beneath the cushions where you’re currently sitting, but you’re not even really thinking about it — you’re too busy looking at Eddie, all dark eyes, long lashes, and messy curls that you can’t help but instinctively reach out to smooth down.
His eyes are puffy and red-rimmed, and his clothes are dirty and pulled out of shape, but he looks happy, incandescently so, with the same big lazy smile spread across his face that always warms your insides.
He’s a wreck, and he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, though most importantly, you can’t believe he’s actually here.
Part of you had been so certain you’d imagined the whole thing – finding him here, wrapping yourself up in his arms, kissing him breathless – how many times have you dreamt some version of this exact scenario over the past eight months? How badly had you wished it would be as easy as that, to simply stumble upon him like he’d just been sitting around all this time, waiting for you to find him?
Of course, you have to remind yourself that it actually hadn’t been “that easy”, not in the slightest, and you have to subtly pinch yourself just to make sure you aren’t still dreaming.
The location does nothing to help because honestly, Rick’s place? Of all the places in Hawkins — in the world, really, it makes perfect sense he’d be here, considering it’s the last place you would ever think to look, and you feel rather stupid about that.
“What time is it?” you rasp.
“Quarter to seven.”
His answer leaves you a little more than dumbfounded.
So much for your grab-and-go mission.
“Jesus.” You yawn, body trembling as you stretch your limbs to the furthest point of their reach.
“Yeah, you were dead to the world there for a minute, Sweetheart.” Eddie hums.
You can feel yourself pulling a face, one that Eddie mirrors, pushing his lower lip out in a gentle, pouting mockery of you.
“Hungry?” He asks, patting your knee as he stand, “I made dinner.”
You watch him retreating back to the light in the other room, and quickly come to realize that it is the kitchen.
There is a little table and several mismatched chairs sitting together just past the doorway, illuminated by a bare, incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling and casting harsh shadows.
You can’t imagine what could possibly constitute “dinner” under these circumstances, but the pervasive growling of your stomach betrays your wariness of anything prepared in the meth lab that is Rick’s kitchen, so you push up on stiff legs and follow Eddie across the worn shag carpet to the other room, hugging yourself tightly as you go.
“Is it a good idea to have that light on?” You ask warily, suddenly recalling hearing something about Rick’s most recent arrest, “What if somebody sees?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be careful.” Eddie calls from the other room, you stop short as he pokes his head out to give you a wry look, “Unless you’d rather sit around in the dark?”
He’s gone again in an instant, leaving you chewing your lower lip.
You really wouldn't, considering Rick’s house is creepy enough in broad daylight, but you don’t have to tell Eddie that.
Your sneakers make soft sounds on the stained linoleum as you cross the threshold from carpet to kitchen, where you find Eddie standing at the stove, stirring something sticky in a dented silver pot.
For half a moment, it’s all you can do but stare at the broad form of his back, the stark familiarity of him, standing there cooking as casually as if the stove were his own.
You can hardly wrap your head around it, suddenly being here in the same room like nothing ever changed. Strange as it is, it fills you with a calming sense of contentment that is almost enough to make you forget the time you’ve spent without him — then he twists at the waist to look back at you over his shoulder, licking his lips where he’d just tasted whatever it is he’s cooking, and he smiles that same old lopsided grin.
It hits you like a bolt to the chest.
He’s here… he’s really here.
You move before your mind can catch up, and whatever it was Eddie was starting to say is cut off with a harsh grunt as your body collides firmly with his. You snake your arms around him and hug him back tightly into your chest and breathe a contented sigh, pressing your cheek into the space between his shoulder blades.
You feel his hand come up to rest over yours instantaneously, and for a moment you both just stand there, holding one another, swaying ever so slightly to your own circadian rhythms.
“You okay?” Eddie asks softly after you breathe out another one of those long sighs.
You would tell him you’re fine, happy even, incandescently so, but there is an inexplicable lump of emotion forming in your throat, rendering you momentarily speechless.
When you don’t answer right away, he tries to turn to look at you. You press tighter against him because suddenly you’re just about ready to cry.
“I missed you so much,” your voice is tight and thankfully muffled against layers of denim and leather, but you can feel the gentle rumble of his own contented sigh rolling through Eddie’s body and into yours.
“Yeah — yeah, I missed you too, Baby… God, you have no idea...”
You’d expect the reciprocation of the notion to fill you with a happy emotion, like some kind of wonderful relief, but for some reason, it fills you instead with memories of the previous summer’s grief, and it makes the knot in your throat swell painfully.
All that pain and misery and he’s just been sitting around missing you too? It doesn’t make you feel any kind of happy emotion, in fact, it makes you feel terrible.
A heavy silence fills the room, bringing with it a tangible weight. He feels it as sure as you do.
“Hey, come on — what’s the matter?” Eddie asks, and you can’t help but get stuck on the harsh breath you’d been trying to steady yourself with.
“Nothing,” you lie, propping your chin up on his shoulder, “…it’s just — what happened to us, Eds? Why’d you shut me out like that?”
You feel him tense ever so slightly beneath your touch, and very quickly he turns his attention back to the stovetop.
“Nothing happened…” he mumbles.
“Then why’d we break up?” You press, jerking him back and jostling him like you intend to try and shake it out of him.
He sighs, slow and shaky like he’s been anticipating you asking him that question — dreading it.
“I don’t know…” Eddie shakes his head, causing his shaggy curls to dance across his shoulders and tickle your nose where you’re leaning on him, “It was just a lot of change really fast and I couldn’t get out of my head over it. I guess I freaked out.”
Your mind rejects the answer and you bristle against the growing tension you can feel bleeding into the room — suddenly and infuriatingly, you can’t get Steve’s maddeningly condescending tone out of your head.
Oh, you freaked out? Is that what we’re calling it?
“Nothing changed.” You huff.
“You graduated,” Eddie insists, turning his head to look at you – you glower at him over his shoulder but he continues before you can object, “I didn’t … and suddenly everything was so different, I got scared that things were never gonna be like they were … just you ‘n me, you know?”.
“No, I don’t know…” you press, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eddie, what was different?”
“You were.” He says flatly, like he hates to admit it.
It hits you like a slap to the face and you can’t help but recoil from it ever so slightly.
“Me?” You choke.
“I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but it was like all of the sudden I wasn’t important to you, and … fuck, I don’t know… it hurt my feelings.”
The feeling is mutual, and suddenly you feel a heady defiance rising up to replace the knot in your throat.
“That’s stupid.” You mutter sullenly, petulantly even, because how could Eddie ever be anything but important to you? He should know that, but the sentiment strikes a chord in him.
“Is it?” He bites, “The way you kept blowing me off to hang out with your old friends…what was I supposed to think?”
He says it like it’s a dirty word, and you can’t even manage to get your feelings hurt over it, because, despite the venom in his tone (which you don’t appreciate) he’s right — you knew he wasn’t graduating, and you knew he was upset about it, even if he never said so.
You suppose if you really wanted to be obtuse, you could make the argument that he never brought it up because Eddie has always been a chronically bad communicator of his feelings, so how could you have possibly known anything was wrong?
But then again, you always know when something is wrong, and you chose not to ask him about it in favor of wrapping yourself up in the preparations for your own graduation – not out of some malicious selfishness so much as careless oversight – and the subject went entirely ignored as a result.
You would tell him that you’d only been hanging out with your old friends because he was acting so weirdly distant and ignoring you, but you can’t muster the fight.
In an instant, all the defiance goes out of you, replaced this time by a sickly sense of understanding.
All this time you’d been stuck feeling sorry for yourself over how Eddie had pulled away from you, shut you out, you realize much too late that from his perspective it must have seemed like you’d done it first.
It makes your chest hurt to think how self-centered you’d been – maybe your initial instinct about the breakup had been right, maybe it was all your fault.
Eddie clears his throat then and makes a soft, defeated sound that shoots you full of holes.
“I dunno… I guess I figured you were finally getting sick of me or something…” He sniffs.
“What do you mean finally? …Eddie—”
He is quick to continue before you can finish, giving a lopsided shrug that he uses to mask the way he wipes his cheek on his shoulder.
“No big deal,” He says unevenly, clearly struggling to mask the tremble in his voice. “Bound to happen eventually.”
Oh, Eddie… your poor sweet boy…
You hug him a little tighter.
“No, it’s not,” you insist, “… I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.”
He hums out his answer, a gentle laugh that has his smile faltering ever so slightly.
You press a kiss to his neck and nuzzle him there. Eddie leans into your touch and chuckles.
“…I wish you would have said something.” You sigh.
“Yeah, well, you know me, I’m stupid.”
Then you grit your teeth and poke him hard in the ribs.
“No, you’re not,” you growl.
Eddie flinches against the jab and laughs out loud, and you don’t even manage to feel bad about it because as much as you know he hates to be tickled, he knows how much you hate it when he self-deprecates like that.
“Take it back, Munson.”
“Okay, okay, I take it back — go sit down, will you? The food’s gonna get cold.”
You don’t immediately release him though, as the thought of staying like this and holding him a little longer is suddenly much more appealing than food.
When you linger too long, Eddie says your name firmly, in a way that you suppose is meant to be a warning, if not without a good dose of humor.
You heave a moody sigh and relent, releasing him and retreating to the little dining table – though not so little as the one back at the trailer. You sink into one of the rickety folding chairs, tucking your hands between your thighs, and pulling your shoulders up to your ears as you watch Eddie put the finishing touches on your meal with a dramatic flourish that sends salt scattering to every corner of the kitchen.
“What did you make?” You ask.
You hadn’t been able to see into the pot over the slope of his shoulder and now curiosity gnawing at you. He turns and triumphantly reveals the slimy contents of the pot and you feel your stomach clench.
Spaghetti-o’s.
You don’t know why you expected anything different considering Eddie’s culinary skills are expressly limited to: microwaving leftovers, boiling water for top ramen, and throwing a can of condensed bullshit into a pot.
Still, you wrinkle your nose and make a harsh sound of disgust in the back of your throat.
“Oh, don’t give me that. Beggars can’t be choosers,” He chides you, “You wanna eat or not?”
You eye him warily, biting your cheek and hating yourself for even considering it.
Sure, Eddie’s going to eat it too, but he is like a raccoon. He’s lived so long off of processed foods and junk that his stomach lining has since turned to steel, so he can eat most anything and not bat an eye. Your stomach, however, is not so strong, and it is cramping with memories of a particularly intense bout of Spaghetti-o-induced food poisoning – still, you haven’t eaten all day…
Eddie tips the pot and shakes it at you in a way you imagine is meant to be tantalizing, and in spite of your better judgment, you nod sullenly.
He rewards you for it by filling your plate with a wet smack of sticky o’s, sauce, and freeze-dried meatballs.
Fantastic.
Eddie falls into the seat across from you and sets the pot down onto the woven trivet sitting on the placemat in front of him – you’re surprised that Rick has even got amenities like trivets floating around in his kitchen, or placemats for that matter.
You watch as Eddie immediately tucks in with the wooden serving spoon which, you can’t help but note, is almost too large for his mouth, stuffing his face like it’s his last meal.
Your attention does not go unnoticed.
“What?” He barely manages to get the word out through the mouth full of processed pasta he’s got, his face smeared in a Glaswegian smile of sticky red sauce.
“You’re not even gonna use a plate?”
Eddie levels you with a blank stare as he chews, like he’s really got to think it over. Then, after a moment of contemplation, he swallows, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, and extends it to you across the table.
“Hi, I’m Eddie, nice to meet you.”
You smack his hand away and roll your eyes — eight short months, and somehow you’ve forgotten just who it is you’re talking to? You’re a fool.
Eddie breathes an airy laugh through his nose and you can’t help but try and suppress your own smile at the bizarreness of the situation you’ve found yourself in, eating Spaghetti-o’s in Rick Lipton’s kitchen like you haven’t got a care in the world.
Once again, you are struck with how it’s like nothing has changed, sitting across from Eddie and sharing a meal like this. It’s familiar in the most comforting way, despite the circumstances.
If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine you were back at the trailer, sitting together at the littler-than-this-one dining table after a long day, unable to decide if you were more disgusted or amused by the painfully audible smacking and slurping of Eddie’s eating habits.
He finishes the pot in record time, then furrows his brow and gestures to your untouched plate.
“You’re not gonna eat?” He asks, tongue darting out to lick the excess sauce from where it is smeared across his face.
You shake your head, deciding in an instant that you can stand to sustain your hunger a little longer.
“You can have it.”
“You sure?” though he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he drags the dish back towards himself.
You give him a pointed look, to which he shrugs and sets himself to the task of inhaling his second helping.
You avert your gaze and turn a wandering eye on the dingy little room, taking in Rick’s knickknacks, what few of them he has.
It’s sparse and messy and makes you miss the comfort of the trailer’s clutter, all of Wayne’s mugs and hats and keepsakes… the treasured Garfield mug that you had won the highest honor of being allowed to use, much to Eddie’s complete and total outrage (he is not allowed to do much more than look at that mug because of his tendency towards dropping anything and everything that passes through his hands.)
You wonder with a quiet despair how much of the clutter is still there and how much will be impounded as evidence.
Then suddenly, much to your despair, you can’t stop picturing the trailer the last way you’d seen it, cordoned off with police tape, harboring the ruined, twisted body of Chrissy.
You feel your stomach heave and have to resist the urge to press the heels of your palms into your eyes until you see stars like you’re half afraid they’re going to fall out of your head – like Chrissy’s had.
You can’t stop your brain from going around and around in a desperate attempt to fill in the blank as to what could have possibly happened to her.
You know you’re never going to be able to stop yourself from thinking about it, and it’s going to drive you insane. As much as you hate to bring it up, you have to know what happened to Chrissy…
You watch Eddie carefully, fully entrenched in the task of filling his stomach and blissfully unaware of how you are about to ruin his evening.
“Eds…” You start slowly, chewing nervously at your thumbnail, “Can I ask you a question?”
He hums absently in response but doesn’t look up, still too busy shoveling Spaghetti-o’s into his mouth, one spoonful after another.
You hesitate, and the prolonged silence is enough to finally make Eddie glance up at you through the thrush of his dark lashes. He’s licking his lips again, looking so painfully boyish as you watch the shadow of anxiety creep in to shroud his features.
You bite the inside of your cheek and watch him watching you, fruitlessly wracking your brain for the most diplomatic way to ask.
Only there is no easy way to ask about something like this, so you just ask.
“...What happened to Chrissy?”
He flinches and instantly breathes out a harsh, shaky breath, almost as if you’d socked him in the stomach with the question.
Eddie drops the spoon into the dish with a muffled clang and pushes back in his chair like he’s suddenly lost his appetite, and for a very long moment, he is a sphinx, completely and utterly unreadable.
It makes your insides squirm with unease as you watch him fidget. The tip of his pink tongue darts out to sweep across his lips as he averts his gaze, he twists the clunky silver ring on his middle finger and clears his throat.
It’s nearer to half a minute before he finally answers, though only after being prompted a second time.
“Eddie…?”
“She didn’t – it wasn’t – I don’t know,” Eddie quickly shakes his head and starts picking at a flakey piece of laminate, curling up from the tabletop. “I don’t know what happened to her.”
You feel something sink inside of you to be so summarily dismissed.
“Okay…” You say carefully, suddenly afraid you’ll say the wrong thing and cause him to shut down completely – you hate to do it, but you have to know, “Well… can I ask what she was doing at your place?”
His head snaps to attention and you watch color bleed into his cheeks in a hot flush, almost like you’ve just accused him of something untoward – or maybe more like you’ve just caught him – you banish the thought before it can finish forming.
He sits gawking at you, wide-eyed like he cannot possibly imagine how you could know that Chrissy had died in the middle of his living room. You try to smile, almost apologetically, but you only manage to press your mouth into a tight horizontal slit.
“It’s the first place I went looking for you…” You explain, offering him a lopsided shrug, “I…Christ – I saw her, Eds.”
“You saw her?”
You nod, chewing your lower lip and hating how it feels like an admission of guilt, like you’d been intruding on something that you were not meant to see – which is to say a literal crime scene – but you hate even more the way it forces Eddie to move to defend himself.
“I didn’t do that to her.” He says immediately.
You barely let him finish before you’re leaning across the table and shaking your head, desperate to assure him that you don’t assume that for a second
“I know,” You say immediately, “Believe me, I know … but –” He’s watching you warily now, like he doesn’t trust you and it makes your insides twist in on themselves, you have to take a deep, steadying breath before you can continue. “… Eds, I just need to know what happened. I need you to help me understand.”
Eddie hesitates a moment before scrubbing at his face with his hand. He slumps back in his seat and swears harshly under his breath, then lingers in a long silence like he’s trying to decide what to say.
You, in turn, sit and wait with what you tell yourself is an infinite well of patience and not a bundle of nerves perched on the literal edge of your seat.
“She just…” He starts before stopping again. “Nothing happened, okay? Between me and ... and Chrissy?” He insists, leveling you with an edgy look and turning his hands over on the tabletop like he means to show you he’s got nothing to hide. “I need you to understand that before we go any further..."
You feel your heart begin to palpitate. It wasn’t what you’d meant in asking him what had happened, but it doesn’t shock you any less.
"Okay..." You say slowly, unevenly, suddenly unable to stop hearing Gareth's words about whatever Eddie did with Chrissy...
It seems to put him at ease, at least a little bit, and you're not entirely sure what that means.
"She only came over to buy..." He says firmly, "I swear."
You can't help but choke a little on that tidbit of information.
“Chrissy?”
Eddie nods.
It takes all your willpower to suppress the hard scoff of bitter laughter bubbling up in your throat because you can hardly imagine soft-spoken, sweet, angelic Chrissy so much as speaking to Eddie without bursting into flames or something, let alone soliciting drugs from him.
“Chrissy Cunningham wanted to buy drugs... from you?” Your tone is much harsher than you’d intended, but there is nothing you can do to suppress the biting edge of cold jealousy creeping in on you.
It’s stupid to be jealous of a dead girl, you remind yourself, but you can’t help it.
Eddie nods again, slower this time, and you can’t decide how you are supposed to react to this information, considering the recessed part of your brain that has been subtly attempting to drive you crazy wondering what they were doing together last night.
He’s not even technically your boyfriend anymore… so why does it feel like he just told you he’d cheated on you?
You don’t know how you feel, so you tell yourself you’re relieved, because at least now you know she wasn’t there to fuck him, which, in the grand scheme of things, would have somehow been more believable than the concept of Chrissy soliciting drugs from Eddie.
Still, you can feel your face flushing bright and hot with stress as your mind turns the argument over and over, asking yourself did he? All the while simultaneously assuring yourself that he didn’t—wouldn’t. Would he?
You grit your teeth against the conflicting voices as a louder thought shoulders its way to the front of your mind – one tiny little detail screaming at you to tell you it doesn’t make sense.
“… So… why couldn’t you just sell to her out of the back of your van like you do with everybody else? Why’d she have to come over?”
Eddie fidgets with his fingers and shrugs, and you feel your stomach tighten as you realize he’s actively avoiding looking at you.
“She wanted pills because she said she couldn’t sleep – nightmares or something, I don’t know.”
You’re suddenly — unhelpfully — reminded of a conversation you’d had with a particularly snotty ex-friend one afternoon at lunch in your tenth-grade year, back when the extent of your interactions with Eddie was strictly limited to stealing shy glances at one another across the lunch room.
“Oh gross, are you swapping eyes with the Freak?” She’d scoffed when she twisted around to see who it was holding your rapt attention.
You’d quickly muttered an excuse about just being friendly and fixed your gaze on your lunch, blushing under the heat of your friend’s calculated gaze — and then she’d leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to you.
“You know I heard he’ll trade weed for head,” and you’d nearly choked when she continued. “I’ll bet if you let him fuck you in the back of his van he’ll give us some blow,”
You’d gone on to learn that Eddie did not, in fact, sell cocaine — just weed and pills, he’d assured you — and you never asked him whether the rumors were true about trading his stock for sexual favors. In the grand scheme of things you didn’t care if they were, but now you can’t stop thinking about what Jeff had told you about the last he’d seen of Eddie — headed out to his van with Chrissy…
You can’t get out of your head over it.
“…So you brought her home?”
His eyes widen in alarm as you can only assume he has finally come to realize how this all sounds.
“No — it wasn’t like that, I swear — Sweetheart, come on, you know I don’t carry pills around – you know that.”
You do know that. Very well in fact — still, you have to bite the inside of your lip to keep from asking the terrible question your psyche keeps poking you with: did you fuck her? Or perhaps rather, were you planning to fuck her?
Stop it stop it stop it stop–
“…So she came over, but I couldn’t find my stash – the place is always a fuckin mess, I mean… you know how it is –”
You wish he would stop telling you what you know and cut to the chase. You make yourself nod because Eddie is giving you this strange, sidelong look that you can’t decipher, and you want him to know you’re listening, despite the way your brain is busy tearing itself in half.
“...And I wasn’t even gone a minute, but when I came back she was just standing there, like – like she was hypnotized or possessed or something.”
You can feel a cold dread creeping in on your chest, like icy fingers closing around your heart as your dream comes rushing back to you.
“And I was shaking her, trying to get her to come back, but she wouldn’t wake up… she just wouldn’t wake up… and then the lights started going on and off. Flickering like… like it was a goddamn horror movie or something… and then she –”
Eddie’s voice hitches and goes tight as you watch the color drain from his face and his eyes glaze over like he’s reliving the moment — you’re doing your best to keep yourself from reliving it too – the ubiquitous cracking of bones snapping up out of place, eyes being wrenched back into their sockets.
You fail to suppress a shudder, but thankfully Eddie is too far off in his own head to notice.
His hands are shaking where they’re still turned up against the cracked and stained tabletop, his rings clinking ever so softly against each other.
Absently, you reach across the table to steady them, if only as a force of habit.
In spite of your fears and what your mind is telling you he did or didn’t do, you remind yourself that whatever happened was traumatic enough to send him running for his life, and whatever happened, he deserves the chance to explain himself.
This is about Chrissy and how she ended up like that, not whether she slept with your boyfriend — ex-boyfriend— before it happened.
“One minute she was fine and then she wasn’t moving and I tried to get her to come back but – I swear to God, you’re gonna think I’m crazy – she started fucking floating…”
It makes you feel sick, and you still can’t pinpoint exactly why – maybe because some irrational part of your brain had been holding out on a hope that it had only been a terrible dream, that maybe you were experiencing a weird but brief bout of insanity that was bound to pass, that none of this was real.
“…Floating,” you hum, your frustration with the situation causing you to inadvertently sound skeptical of the whole thing.
You watch in horror as Eddie’s face contorts with disappointment.
“...Oh, Christ… you don’t believe me, do you?”
You try to suppress the spike of anxiety it sends lancing through your midsection – shit, fuck – because this was exactly what you had been worried about.
“Hey, no, that's not what I –” You start, attempting to try and backpedal, but Eddie is already shaking his head, like he cannot believe what he’s hearing, like somehow you’ve betrayed him.
“Jesus – you think I’m making this up?” He asks, his voice lilting with despair. “Why would I lie about something like this?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“What, you think I cheated on you and now I’m lying to cover my own ass?” Saying it out loud only serves to convince him that it’s exactly what you think, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
All the jealousy and paranoia goes out of you as your heart beats erratically with the need to fix this before it goes too far.
“Eddie, please, just listen–” You press, but he cuts you off.
“No, stop it— don’t do that —I know how crazy this sounds, okay? I get it, but that’s what happened and nobody is going to fucking believe me because it’s so goddamn crazy!” He cries, fisting his hands in his hair and hanging his head.
You could kick yourself for how spectacularly you’d fucked this up, but you’re afraid to say anything to try and smooth it over for fear of only making it worse, so you sit and hold your breath and wait for Eddie to react first.
You listen to him breathe, a harsh in and out punctuated by flushed, simmering emotion threatening to boil over.
It’s a long time before Eddie comes down again enough to come out from where he is hiding behind his hands. His face is flushed and he sniffles, wiping the back of his hand across his nose before he makes himself take a deep, steadying breath.
“Why are we even talking about this?” He huffs. “Seriously, what have I ever done to make you think I could cheat on you?”
You fidget anxiously in your seat, trying to decide how to explain yourself, and decide in the last moment to shift the blame a little – it’s not untrue, after all.
You give an uneven shrug.
“Jeff told me he saw you getting in the van with Chrissy and I guess I let myself go a little crazy over it …”
He makes a harsh sound and rolls his eyes.
“Fucking, Jeff — you know he was probably just trying to make you jealous, right?”
“Yeah… guess it worked…” You mutter, trying and failing to hum out a humorless laugh. “It was stupid… sorry.”
Eddie just shakes his head. His voice is thick and he barely manages to keep it from trembling as he speaks.
“Baby, I promise, I’m telling you the truth,” He insists, “Chrissy came over to buy pills. That’s it. Okay? I didn’t kiss her, I didn’t fuck her — she didn’t even sit down, Man. Nothing. Happened.”
Only something did happen last night, and Eddie knows that as well as you do. He rolls his eyes and moves like he’s going to cover his face again before stopping himself, “Jesus — nothing except…” He trails off.
He can’t say it, but he doesn’t have to. Nothing happened except that she died.
You set your jaw and try again to smile, deciding in an instant that it’s enough and that you can set aside any jealousy or suspicion or any of those other ugly feelings – you can be angry about it after this is all over if you still need to, but for now, you’re on Team Eddie, no matter what.
“Okay,” You say simply, “I believe you.”
Eddie gives you a flat look and tucks his arms that much tighter over his chest. You watch his jaw flex as he considers it.
“What, so it’s just that easy?” he scoffs.
You shrug.
“It can be.”
He shakes his head and sucks his teeth like he doesn’t believe that for a moment and averts his eyes again, electing to turn away and stare off at a point in space rather than look at you.
You don’t know how any of this became your fault — except that you’re a goddamn moron continuing your string of making the worst decisions possible — but if blaming you is what makes Eddie feel better, you’ll shoulder it.
You sit together then in a tense silence as you try to wrap your head around this whole thing.
It doesn’t make any sense, hypnotic trances and floating up off of the ground, but then again how could something like that happen to a person? More importantly, it’s just like Eddie said, why would he lie about something like that?
He wouldn’t.
Eddie’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. You know that for certain, which means this is real, whatever the fuck this is, and you’re both in way over your heads.
At least you can share in that dilemma together, that is if he’ll still have you after this titanic fuck up.
Under the table, you push forward to nudge his shin with the toe of your sneaker, offering an apologetic smile when his inky gaze slides over to you.
“...So, she started floating,” You prompt, “What happened next?”
Eddie heaves a sigh and uncrosses his arms, almost like he’s forgiven you for your perceived lapse of faith. Almost.
“She started floating…” he gives you a pointed look, like he’s daring you to question it a second time, “...and then —”
He trails off, and for half a second he clenches his jaw as his eyes are wet and shining with tears again, but he swallows the emotion and lets his lids slide shut as he grits his teeth and forces the words out.
“And then that was it." He says, "Then she was gone…”
You know he’d spared you the gruesome details, which your psyche is more than happy to deliver to your inner eye.
You believe him — not so much that part about Chrissy wanting ketamine— but you have this terrible sinking feeling that it’s not going to be enough, and no one else is going to, no matter what you do.
Even if somehow you miraculously come up with bulletproof evidence, a literal smoking gun, you know it’s still just going to be Eddie’s fault because he’s a Munson and that means the town will have already decided his guilt— that’s why you need to go, get as far away as fast as possible.
“Okay… obviously that’s a lot to take in, but thank you for being honest… it was really brave of you.”
He snorts bitterly.
“Not that it’s gonna do any good – I mean, even without my name dragging me down, who in their right mind is gonna believe any of that?”
The complete and utter defeat in his voice is heartbreaking, and you’re suddenly so desperate to snap Eddie out of this pathetic version of himself, this exposed nerve of a person.
You purse your lips and shake your head.
“I wish you would stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself,” You mutter, glancing up to see if Eddie takes the bait of your tough love.
He does, sitting up to blink incredulously at you – you just shrug.
“It’s like I said, we’re gonna figure this out.”
“How?” He sniffs.
“I don’t know,” you say honestly, “But we will.”
After a very long moment, nods in a way that makes you think he doesn’t expressly believe that, but there’s nothing he can do about it.
“…Okay…okay…” he says, almost like he’s trying to convince himself.
It takes another one of those long, shaky breaths to steady himself enough before Eddie sits up and viciously scrubs his hands over his face.
He sniffs and clears his throat, and offers you a weak smile, and you feel your insides warm a little.
“So what now?” he asks.
“Now… we get you as far away from here as fast as we can… don’t ask me how, I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Well, whatever we do it’s gonna have to be in your car because the van’s gone.” He huffs, gesturing vaguely, “Crashed it in a ditch out near the quarry.”
“You– you crashed?”
“Yeah, it’s totaled. I don’t really wanna talk about it.” He mumbles.
You know you shouldn’t laugh, but you can’t stop yourself from snorting undaintily, and you have to clap your hand over your mouth to keep your cool.
“Eddie…” You press.
He gives you an incredulous look, brows furrowing over his eyes as he stares back at you because you’re laughing at him. He just told you he crashed his van in a ditch and you’re literally shaking with the effort to keep yourself from laughing – it’s a losing battle.
“It’s not funny,” He presses, despite the way you can see him fighting the upturn of his lips.
It only spurs you on and you grin at him.
“It’s a little funny.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re such a brat,” He huffs, still fighting to keep himself from smiling as you sit there fully entrenched in a fit of giggles, “I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m laughing…” you gasp, breathless from the way your stomach muscles have begun to cramp, “It’s just … God – it’s been a really long day.”
“Really? That's a bummer because my day’s been great.” Eddie says sarcastically, propping his chin up on his fist and drawing aimless circles into the cracked and flaky linoleum. “I mean, clearly you know how fucked my day has been – but anyway, I’m sick of talking about me. How was your day, Dear?”
He folds his hands neatly in front of him when he says it and smirks at you.
You roll your eyes.
“Well, I almost got arrested this morning – it’s a long story, I was looking for you.” you huff when Eddie’s eyebrows jump up to disappear beneath his curly fringe.
Then you remember your little Toyota sitting abandoned in Benny’s parking lot.
“Oh, shit, and my goddamn car died.”
“Shit indeed. That leaves us pretty much stranded.”
You heave an aggravated groan and wrestle with a strange hope that nobody decides to tow it, despite how useless it is to waste any energy on that kind of thinking, because once you get out you’re never coming back – now you just have to get there.
“Hey, come on, Sweetheart, take a dose of your own medicine, we’re gonna figure it out, remember?” Eddie teases, gently kicking the toe of your shoe beneath the table. “So, what’s plan B?”
Good question. You chew the inside of your mouth and wrack your brain for solutions.
“Well…” You start, “Wayne gave me some money—”
It’s enough to snap Eddie out of whatever is left of his pity party and he perks up to the closest thing you’ve seen to his normal self yet.
“You saw Wayne?” he asks, voice lilting up with surprise.
You nod.
“Yeah, this morning,”
Eddie narrows his eyes at you.
“Before or after you almost got arrested?”
You can feel yourself pulling a face again as the memory of how foolish you’d been to go barging into a crime scene like that returns to you in full force.
“After,” you mumble sheepishly, “He kind of, sort of bailed me out.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Eddie hums, deflating a little as he begins to fidget with his rings again – you suppress the urge to reach across and take his hand to make him stop – one of these days he’s gonna break his finger, twisting it like that. “… is he pissed at me?”
You feel your brows come together over your eyes, and you realize a moment too late that you’re more or less glaring at Eddie, but you can’t really help it.
You can’t imagine why he would even ask you that, how could he ever imagine that Wayne would walk in on what he’d found waiting for him at the trailer that morning and immediately jump to anger?
Fear, sure, for the scene he’d stumbled upon, for the lack of ability to find Eddie afterward and all the hideous possibilities his absence implied, of course, but anger?
You realize with a start that it’s probably how Eddie’s father would have reacted, had he been in Wayne’s shoes.
You don’t know much about the man, there’s a reason Eddie won’t talk about his childhood after all, but you know he is a son of a bitch, wherever he is, and you have to swallow the misplaced anger that realization stirs in you.
“No, Eddie, Wayne’s not pissed at you. He’s the one who sent me to come find you.” you press, and when he continues staring back at you like a freshly kicked puppy, you dig your hands into your pockets and fish out the crumpled bills.
“Look,” you say, laying them flat on the table between you, “He gave me this and told me to get you out of town… he made me promise I wouldn’t leave you… not that I would anyway … even if you are a jerk.”
In spite of everything, it pulls a short burst of laughter out of Eddie, which leaves the faintest hint of a genuine smile spread across his face.
It’s so good to see him smiling again.
“Aw, man,” he breathes, chuckling softly to himself, “So, I guess you kind of like me, huh?”
You scrunch your nose and feign disinterest as your insides go warm and fuzzy when Eddie looks at you in shades of the same way he’d stolen those shy glances at you from across the lunch room all those years ago.
You love him so much you can’t stand it, so you shrug.
“You’re alright, I guess.”
Eddie hums thoughtfully, still fidgeting with his fingers.
“That must’ve been weird.” He begins, “Seeing Wayne?”
The question strikes you as odd, and you answer honestly without really thinking.
“Not really,” you say, “I see him all the time.”
Of course, it’s only then that you remember that there is no possible way Eddie could know that, and you feel a strange sense of alarm jump up into your throat when he pulls a face, like you’d let slip a secret you’d sworn never to reveal — only you’re the one who had made Wayne promise not to bring Eddie up in any way shape or form including but not limited to not telling him about your weekly visits.
He doesn’t get the chance to ask you about it before there is a sudden and violent banging at the front door.
It sends the pair of you leaping out of your skin.
Eddie hits the floor as the doorknob begins to rattle, and you jump up out of your seat with enough force to send the chair clattering backward to the ground.
You jump up, much too late, and pull the chair for the overhead light, instantly plunging the both of you into darkness. It draws the attention of the newcomers instantly.
You hear Eddie say your name frantically from somewhere in the dark and you feel your heart leap up into your throat.
“Go hide!” You hiss but you can’t see well enough to tell whether or not he obeys.
Suddenly, the knocking and rattling are punctuated by voices, most specifically a high drawn-out shouting.
“HELLOOOOO – REEFER RICK! ARE YOU THERE–?”
It takes you a long, terrifying moment to recognize the voice, but when you do you are flooded with relief.
It’s only Dustin – thank God for that – and he’s not alone.
“Dude… what the hell, don’t just shout that.” Steve hisses. “Have a little discretion, will you?”
You heave a sigh, clapping your hand to your forehead as you rock back on your heels. The tips of your fingers and toes sting with adrenaline as you rush to the door and whip it open, flooding the room with what little light there is from their flashlights and startling the group of familiar faces just outside.
You’d all but forgotten they were coming, but just like that you suddenly have a Plan B.
+++
Dustin knows he should be happy considering how miraculously everything fell together.
They found you, and you found Eddie, just like he knew you would.
He knows he should be pleased, but that feeling is hampered by the very small part of him that had begun to hope beyond hope that they would not find the two of you together, that maybe they wouldn’t find Eddie at all and he’d never have to think about the two of you making out in a photo booth in the Starcourt mall ever again.
And he's unfortunately been thinking about that all day. It's really kind of ruining things for him.
But now here you all are, together, just like he’s wanted all year, and Dustin feels like he’s going to crack a tooth for how tightly he’s clenching his jaw.
You’d whipped the door open and damn near given everyone heart attacks in doing so, hurried them all inside to the weird, dated house that stank of weed and burnt spaghetti, and then promptly realized as you switched the kitchen light back on that Eddie was nowhere to be found.
It set Steve off immediately, much to Dustin’s chagrin. He’d really hoped you two had moved past the bickering, but he was quickly coming to understand that it was probably a fool’s hope.
“Seriously?” Steve snapped, watching you turn in fruitless circles around the house, looking for Eddie, “You had one job here and you lost him?”
“Eddie? Okay, game’s over, you can come out now!” You called, doing a very poor job at hiding the rising anxiety in your voice by calling out in a lilting, sing-song way, “Olly olly oxen free!”
“Steve, come on.” Robin chided quietly, as you slipped into the other room, “Give her a break,”
“You come on, don’t you think it’s just a little bit ridiculous?” Steve huffed, running a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, “What kind of babysitter loses the goddamn kid?”
You took the opportunity to come back into the room then, if only to defend your reputation.
“He’s not a kid, okay? He’s a grown-ass person. And I didn’t lose him, thank you very much, I told him to hide when you morons came banging down the door like you were trying to wake the dead.”
“First of all, that moron you’re talking about is all Henderson—”
Dustin did not appreciate the sentiment, but he didn’t have time to stand around complaining about it, so he cut Steve off before he could get really catty about the whole thing.
“Did you guys set up a designated hiding spot or something?” He asked.
You shook your head, resting your hands on your hips and frowning and you gestured to the room.
“No, but this isn’t a big house. There are only a handful of places he could be.”
That’s what they’d said about Hawkins proper, and it had still taken them hours to stumble upon this lead, but Dustin wasn’t about to start naysaying his own operation, so the party split up and went looking for Eddie — you, Max, and Robin stuck to the house while Steve and Dustin slipped out into the boathouse and promptly found Eddie hiding under a tarp.
Steve nearly lost his head for it.
Dustin froze and stood helpless as Eddie jumped up and slammed Steve against the wall with more force than he would have guessed the metalhead could muster, and thankfully the commotion brought everyone running.
And then you’d all but tackled Eddie to the ground to pull him off of Steve, which Dustin couldn’t deny was kind of amazing, despite the very tense few moments it took to talk Eddie down after.
The next few minutes were an exercise in patience.
They needed to know Eddie’s side of the story, clearly, so they waited as he explained what happened as best he could.
Dustin did his best to remain impartial, because regardless of whatever he was currently feeling, Eddie deserved the chance to explain himself. Still, it was very distracting, watching you watch Eddie — looking at him like he was the only person in the goddamn room, and Dustin couldn’t help but get a little bent out of shape over it.
If anything, it was rude, ignoring everyone else in favor of one person? Certainly very uncharacteristic of you, who always went out of your way to make sure everyone felt included.
This was much more like that weird dopey version of you that existed under the spell of your stupid boyfriend – Dustin had to quickly remind himself to merge the two images, because there was said stupid boyfriend, sitting on the floor of the boathouse, looking like a kicked puppy. Eddie freakin Munson.
God, he hates this so much.
And then it was his turn to explain things, which Dustin quite possible hated more than any of it because suddenly he was having to lay it all out there, everything he never told you about the double life he’d been keeping from you over the past few years, about Eleven and the Upsidedown.
You didn’t take it well, because how does anyone take the news that there is another world just beneath your feet full of monsters who periodically violently claw their way up into yours? That everything you think you know about what has happened in your town over the past few years is a conspiracy to keep that world hidden?
No, you don't take it well at all, particularly when it leads to a bizarrely frank discussion about what they thought could be behind this — some kind of spell caster, Dustin and Eddie collectively decide, Vecna.
You make a harsh sound of disbelief, snapping everyone’s attention to where you stand with your arms crossed and your brows furrowed.
“I’m sorry, Vecna?” you say, “Like in your stupid D&D game?”
It hits Dustin like a fist to the gut and suddenly he feels too winded to defend himself, despite the way he tries.
You never thought D&D was stupid before, but he supposes it’s never been anything but a game until now.
“It’s not stupid—” He insists.
“It’s also not real, Dustin,” You snap, “Something seriously fucked up is happening here and we need to figure out how to deal with it before something arguably worse happens.”
God, you’re mean today.
It’s Steve’s turn to make a snide noise then.
“Worse than what happened to Chrissy?” He huffs.
Eddie flinches and you bristle, immediately reeling on him.
“Steve— do not fucking start. I swear to God, you’re only making things worse.”
And just like that you’re back to fighting, the same way you had been in Family Video.
It’s exhausting putting the two of you together, honestly, Dustin doesn’t know how he ever thought you could be friends.
“How the hell am I making things worse?” Steve chokes, “Your boyfriend’s the one who came at me with a bottle.”
Dustin feels his insides heave and go tight at the mention of it, though not as violently as they do as you proceed to perhaps the worst thing anyone can possibly say at a moment like this.
“He’s not–” you bite the sentence off in an instant, like you only just realized what it is you’re about to say, and more importantly, who you’re about to say it in front of.
Of course, everyone knows what it is you were about to say.
Strangely, it makes Dustin’s heart seize, because for as jealous he is, he is suddenly very aware of the way Eddie’s head snaps to attention. His brows come together over his eyes in that same hurt look that always makes Dustin feel like he needs to protect him.
The room grows eerily silent, and you clamp your mouth shut, eyes wide and cheeks burning as you stand stock still.
“Not what?” Steve prods, and Dustin could wring his neck for it.
For all his good qualities, the worst thing about Steve is how he just can’t leave things where they lie.
“Hello?" he says, making a show of waving his hand in front of your face, "Who’s not what?”
Dustin knows you might have slugged him had you not been so caught up in your dreadful misstep.
“Nothing, nevermind,” you say, shaking your head dismissively.
“No, go ahead and say it,” Eddie says then, a little quieter but with no less bite than Steve had – he’s standing behind you, ever so slightly removed from the rest of the group and looking a little too rough around the edges for Dustin’s liking.
You blanch and whip around to face him, shifting your weight from foot to foot as he stares you down, and Dustin resists the urge to put himself between you.
He honestly doesn’t think he could move if his life depended on it,
“She’s talking about me,” Eddie informs the group, as if everyone didn't already know, then addresses Steve, “– that’s what you said, right? That I came at you? So it’s me…”
Finally, Eddie turns his gaze back to you and it’s the worst thing Dustin has ever seen, watching someone who knows they’re about to have their heart broken prepare for the worst. It’s like watching a car wreck, terrible and ugly and frightening but you can’t look away.
Suddenly he doesn’t know who is the bad guy here, who he needs to step in to defend.
“Eddie, it’s not–” you start, your voice is small and clipped, and you barely manage to squeak the sound out.
He shakes his head slowly, like he doesn’t want to hear whatever excuse you might be drumming up.
“I’m not what?” Eddie prompts you again.
“...You’re… you’re not – fuck – you’re not my … my boyfriend.” You stammer, glancing nervously around the room, down to your toes, and then sheepishly back up at Eddie, “You’re not my boyfriend, Eds…”
Then tension is unbearable, like you finally saying it had sucked all the air out of the room. Even Steve seems to be feeling particularly shitty about this whole exchange.
Dustin exchanges a tense look with Robin, who looks like she's trying with all her might to shrink into her jacket and disappear.
Somewhere further into the room he hears Max mutter something to the tune of “Yikes”, and he can’t disagree with her.
For a long moment, nobody says anything, and the silence is a yawning chasm ringing in Dustin’s ears.
Eddie breathes out hard and rocks back a step, almost as if you'd reached out and stabbed him.
He grits his teeth and pulls a face like he’s trying to smile, and nods.
“...Yeah,” he says, “That’s what I thought you were gonna say,”
“Eddie—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He snaps in a way that makes Dustin bristle.
You recoil ever so slightly, and he watches a strange, hurt look flash across your face as Eddie turns and stalks to the other side of the room.
You follow and Dustin’s insides go tight – how did that go so wrong so fast?
He moves like he means to follow you but Robin grabs him by his sleeve and quietly ushers him and the rest of the group back toward the house.
He follows, but he can’t stop looking back over his shoulder, trying to catch one last glimpse of you and Eddie standing huddled in the back of the boat house before the door closes behind him.
After it's shut, everyone proceeds to stand in a stunned silence, all seeming to share the sentiment that what they just witnessed was painful enough to make them all feel like they’d just been broken up with. Dustin feels like he could vomit.
“Well, that was excruciating,” Steve mutters.
Max scoffs from where she’s sunk down onto the couch.
“Only because you didn’t have to listen to them break up the first time,” she says flatly. “By the way, what just happened in there? Totally your fault.”
Steve recoils sharply like she’d socked him in the face and opens his mouth to protest – nothing comes out. He looks to Robin for assistance, but she shuts him down in an instant with a slow shake of her head.
“Take the credit for that one, Stevie.” She says, “You’ve graduated to wrecking other people’s love lives as well as your own.”
The sentiment seems to hit him hard, as suddenly Steve is sinking down into a particularly ratty-looking armchair and staring off at nothing in particular with the faintest hint of distress masking his features.
“Jesus Christ, I’m a menace,” he says, a little more than stunned by the information that has suddenly come to light.
Dustin stands watching the door, wondering whether he ought to intrude, play mediator.
That’s what you do when your friends are fighting, right? Mediate, make them come to some sort of agreement, and shake on it? Only it’s not Mike and Lucas fighting in there, and Dustin is suddenly way in over his head.
Part of his rational mind is telling him that it’s none of his business, he ought to just let the pair of you work out whatever is going on between you, but the rest of him is too muddled with the conundrum of everything he has learned today.
Eddie broke your heart last summer, so that makes him the enemy, but Dustin is pretty sure he just stood there and watched you break his right back, which is good in terms of the mission to avenge you, but terrible considering Eddie is the object of his current mission – to find him and protect him at all costs, and he just stood there and let you trample him into oblivion.
Some avenger he is.
It’s a goddamn mess and Dustin is damn near ready to tear himself apart over it. He knows it’s not his business, but curiosity gets the better of him and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s got his ear pressed to the door.
He thinks he can hear you saying something, and he certainly hears Eddie raise his voice. Everyone hears it, in fact, and it brings their attention to where Dustin is pressed against the solid core.
“Dustin – what are you doing?” Steve calls, sounding suddenly very dejected.
Dustin dismisses him with a wave, but Steve’s admonishment of him is very quickly backed up by Robin.
“Leave them alone.” she insists.
Dustin shushes them harshly, he can’t make out what you’re saying, but you’re clearly arguing.
“I’m just trying to make sure they don’t need me to step in!” He hisses, missing the sound of approaching footsteps.
The door whips open and Dustin staggers forward, very nearly falling flat on his face at your feet.
You sidestep him without so much as a second glance and storm through the house to disappear down the long hall off of the living room.
Dustin watches as you go, helpless to do anything but stand there as his insides twist themselves into knots, and then Eddie appears in the doorway, stumbling over his own feet in his attempt to follow and looking exceedingly chagrined as he calls your name.
Somewhere further into the house, a door slams, rattling the walls and the clutter tacked to them.
Dustin feels a strange and bitter sense of schadenfreude wash over him as he watches Eddie flinch against the sound and slump back.
He swears harshly under his breath and pushes his hair out of his eyes.
“Good job.” Dustin says flatly and prides himself in the way he withstands the dirty look Eddie gives him. “Are we ready to make a plan now? Or do you two want to fight some more.”
Behind him, Dustin hears the dull rumble of a chorus of disappointed sounds from the rest of the group, but they all get up and file back into the boat house to give you a little space while they discuss the next course of action.
The strange hostility that jumps up in Dustin’s midsection is a bizarre contradiction to the strong pull of friendship he feels toward Eddie, but every time he starts to come back down, he thinks back to the polaroid photo strip he’s still got crumpled in his pocket, and the fire revs up again.
Over the course of the next twenty minutes, plans are set in motion. Eddie is safe, for the moment — even if he is a stupid jerk — which means Dustin can relax a little.
Now if only he could stop his mind from spinning around in circles wondering just what the hell Eddie must have said to you to make you storm off like that.
Dustin can’t help but notice the way Eddie keeps glancing at the door every few seconds, like a helpless puppy just waiting for you to come back.
He has to resist the urge to tell him to give it up because you’re not coming back – he really hopes you’ll wise up this time and not come back — but at the same time he is gripped with the urge to sidle up to him, assure him things are gonna work themselves out.
The conflicting notions are going to drive him crazy.
Dustin snaps his fingers for Eddie’s attention.
“Hey, you wanna do us the courtesy of paying attention while we’re trying to save your life?” he snaps.
Eddie blinks stupidly at him, brows furrowed like he can’t believe his audacity, but Dustin doesn’t wait around to hear what he has to say about it.
It’s well past midnight by the time the plan is finalized, and you still haven’t emerged from the room you’d shut yourself into.
It had been decided that they’ll go back into town and run their own reconnaissance mission, Eddie will stay put with a walkie-talkie, and everyone will remain in regular contact until they can get a handle on whatever the hell is going on. Now Dustin just has to figure out where you stand with all of that.
He finds you in the back bedroom, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed with your legs crossed. It reminds him of the way you used to sit on the floor in his bedroom playing Atari – Dustin wishes you were back there, in happier times before you had to worry about things like stupid boyfriends and monsters and interdimensional spell-casters.
“Hey,” he calls from the doorway, startling you to attention.
You sit up a little and offer him a meager smile, though he can tell you’ve been crying what he imagines were angry tears. Your cheeks are streaked with them.
“Hey yourself.” You sniff, quickly brushing any lingering wetness from your face and wiping your nose across the back of your hand.
Dustin wonders briefly if you’d let him hug you – he contemplates joining you on the floor, but he can hear Steve in the other room rallying the troops.
“We’re headed out, in case you wanna hitch a ride.” Dustin says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
You sit silently for a moment, staring through him rather than at him, then sniff and dismiss the notion with a flippant wave.
“Nah, I’ll stay.” You say.
It makes his stomach clench. He’d so hoped you would come with them, even if he knows it's better that someone stays to keep tabs on Eddie.
Why does it have to be you? A tiny, nagging voice is crying out from somewhere inside him, though he knows the answer well enough. He’s got photographic proof crumpled up in his pocket.
“Really? Even after…?” Dustin trails off, unsure of how to really describe what he’d just witnessed as anything but a lover’s quarrel, which he is violently opposed to.
You wrinkle your nose and shrug, smiling for what he thinks must be his benefit. It doesn’t reach your eyes.
“Yeah…” You mutter, “Somebody’s gotta stay and babysit him. Figure it ought to be me.”
Dustin can hear Steve calling his name from the front room – wheels up, let’s go – and he hesitates, before venturing to take a step toward you.
You watch him carefully as he does.
“You don’t have to, you know.” Dustin assures you, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
You force out a quiet chuckle, and the corners of your mouth twitch as your smile begins to fail.
“Of course he will, I’m gonna make sure of it.” You say.
Steve is honking the horn now, and shouting Dustin’s name, which is completely counterintuitive to everything they just went over about keeping a low profile.
Christ, he could strangle him.
“You better go,” you say, gesturing through him toward the car, “Daddy’s callin’.”
It’s not you saying it though, just like all those other times you said something that was wholly uncharacteristic of you, and entirely your boyfriend.
Eddie, Dustin reminds himself. It’s Eddie.
Just a little too mean for no good reason at all. Somehow it’s a little less jarring to hear, now.
He’d always wondered how someone could rub off of another person like that, how you could pick up their little phrases, begin to talk like them, but he supposes Eddie is Eddie – his favorite person in the world besides you, of course, he doesn’t know how you could know him and not have him rub off on you, just a little.
Dustin takes the walkie-talkie from where it is strapped across his shoulders and hands it to you. You take it and turn the clunky device over in your hands, still smiling that hollow smile as you fidget with the dials.
“We’ll be back tomorrow, but in the meantime—”
You don’t let him finish.
“Yessir, call you if we need anything.” You say, making a show of saluting. “Channel two, right?”
“R-right.” he says.
That’s the frequency he and the party always used before Will moved away, and Dustin is more than a little touched that you would remember.
Of course, then he can hear you chiding him gently, because how could you ever forget? You were a party member, weren’t you?
“DUSTIN!” Steve shouts from the front yard, “WE ARE LEAVING WITH OR WITHOUT YOU.”
And then he hears Eddie calling from the front room.
“Henderson, will you get the fuck out of here before he blows a gasket? Jesus Christ!”
Dustin looks back to see you staring out toward the front room again, frowning, and he feels a sudden desperation pulling at him.
The party doesn’t split up – you should be going with them.
“… You’re sure you don’t wanna come with?” He asks sheepishly, suddenly feeling like that same eight-year-old kid who was so desperate to impress you the first time you babysat.
You roll your eyes and push up to your feet, taking him by the shoulder and leading him to the door.
“Bye Dustin.” You say and shut the door firmly behind him.
Dustin lingers a moment, breathes a deep, steadying breath, then jogs down the hall into the living room.
Eddie is sitting slumped on the couch fidgeting with his fingers – he glances up at Dustin when he feels him staring.
“I gave her the walkie.”
“Cool.” Eddie says flatly, and then when Dustin continues to stare at him, “What?”
“...Be nice to her, okay?”
Eddie levels him with a dour look and Dustin half expects him to make some kind of snide comment, but he thinks better of it and breathes out a heavy sigh.
“Okay,” He mutters, sounding more or less defeated.
Dustin turns to leave, then stops short.
“Are you guys gonna be okay–?”
He doesn’t let him finish.
“Bye Dustin,” Eddie says, in a strangely perfect mimicry of you that sets Dustin’s teeth on edge.
It's one thing to hear Eddie speaking through you, but you speaking through Eddie?
Christ, that's just weird...
And then the roar of the engine indicating that Steve is actually trying to leave him behind lights a fire under Dustin's ass.
He whips around and bolts out the door to catch Steve's Mercedes just as it's pulling out of the driveway.
Dustin slides into the back beside Max and barely manages to get his door closed before Steve hits the gas again, ignoring the way he chides him for making everybody wait, and doing his best to suppress just how goddamn stressed he is that things are about to take a turn for the worse.
taglist: @harrys-tittie , @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @thicksexxualtensionaltension , @ganseysgff , @scoopsr0bininn , @pbs-theundeadmaggot , @audhd-dragonautagonaut , @clilxlxx , @alexandriaemily200 , @averagestudent03 , @but-vanessa , @cosmictime45 , @timelordfreya , @forever-war , @munsonzzgf , @chervbs , @irisabrams , @mopeymopeymouse
#cruel summer#cruel summer fic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things#this chapter actually had one more part but it pushed it to almost 16k so i figured i'd split it up and get you part 10 that much faster
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idk how you can say it’s not also mark’s fault when a lot of the issues stem from the actual writing - it didn’t feel like rick’s writing and it’s more similar to mark’s work. rick has his issues but he doesn’t write like this. plotwise and consistency issues yes that’s def rick. and it doesn’t make sense that mark apparently did research about details but didn’t say anything about the details with biana or Hypnos. both of them including the editor failed on that. Also when the preview first came out, people said was bad. that was all mark, they told us. mark also confirmed that in the least, the first 10,000 words of tsats were all him too, with minimal editing. also a lot of the complaints/negativity are just on tumblr i highly doubt publishers will look at it or that their career will be ruined lol
I'm not saying that Oshiro is blameless - I'll admit, I'm not familiar with their other work, and yeah there's definitely too much within the book all over the place that feels messy and disjointed. I'm more used to being very clearly able to pick out Rick's writing so I was definitely able to see parts that were him, but there were also some details that very much told who was writing that portion very clearly (One actually kind of interesting one is every time you see use of s's versus s' in the case of like, something belonging to [noun/pronoun ending in S], the s's is Oshiro and s' is Rick, because throughout the entirety of the Riordanverse, Rick always uses s' and this book is the first time we see s's as well.). And there are absolutely plenty of scenes in the book that I know for a fact were written by Mark because they've explicitly said they wrote them and I do think those scenes are bad!
But I have said since the book was announced that I was very afraid people were gonna try to pin all the blame on the queer/nonbinary author just because they're new. I'm very used to Rick's writing at this point and how it's progressed, and a lot of the particular failings I noticed in TSATS are particularly consistent with recent series. I'm saying Oshiro is not the sole reason this book is bad, which is something I have had people attempt to argue to me already. I definitely don't think co-authoring this book improved it's condition much at all though. It probably did only make things worse, particularly in terms of how inconsistent everything is within it. Even if it was just Rick though I doubt we would have avoided how wildly out of character everything felt or the huge timeline changes/errors and incorrect details.
And you have entirely valid point I fully agree with as well - the editors should have totally stopped this mess WAY early on. It's honestly wild to me how little this book seems to have been run by an editorial team, because there's so many even just structurally wonky sentences or inconsistencies (again, switching s's and s' between writers) that you would normally expect to be caught and fixed very early on. It feels like the editing team didn't bother at all to catch awkward places where there is no bridging the gap between who's writing what, or do any kind of consistency checking even within details of the same sentence (Nemesis giving Nico the pomegranate seeds, and him apparently already having some?) or chapters (Will and Nico separately use the same exact simile at different times, seemingly unrelated to the other having used it), let alone multiple books. It makes me wonder if the Riordanverse has a series bible at all? That's writing a series 101.
And I agree that so many of the inconsistencies don't make sense if Oshiro did so thoroughly read through the series making notes, because then those inconsistencies should have been pointed out and corrected during the writing process. I really wish Oshiro had been able to smooth out detail inconsistencies, and given how Oshiro works as well as a sensitivity reader I would have really hoped we wouldn't have gotten stuff like the troglodytes again, or some of the general scenes that felt so viscerally bad like nobody considered any of the other implications within them.
Basically, yes, absolutely, it's everybody's fault and it's everybody's fault equally. But I have already seen people claim it was solely Mark Oshiro's fault, which it was not. It was just as equally the fault of Rick and the editing team.
#tsats#the sun and the star#pjo#riordanverse#mark oshiro#rick riordan#rr crit#tsats spoilers#the sun and the star spoilers#ask#Anonymous#actually one of the reaction images i had saved in my ''In preparations for TSATS'' meme folders#was specifically for Mark Oshiro stuff - it's the ''You were supposed to defeat the Sith not join them!''#which is very apt to how i feel about the situation#long post //
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Okay, I personally ship SNS and think that it is THE best written relationship in Naruto, even if one doesn’t want to view them as strictly romantic. I even think there’s fairly strong evidence for Naruto and Sasuke being purposely written as… non-hetero, is what I’ll go with.
However, there is one part in the manga/anime which possibly conflicts with this idea, and was hoping you could offer an explanation (I’m reallly liking your posts btw).
In the arc where Naruto is with Sakura, Yamato, and Sai, there’s a part where they stop at an inn and hots springs/bath place. Sakura goes to the women’s section by herself, while Naruto goes to the men’s bath section with Yamato and Sai (and Naruto also seems embarrassed and oddly flustered? Which is weird because I thought that bathing among other men isn’t weird in Japanese culture, but maybe Naruto he just doesn’t feel comfortable around them?) and at some point Naruto decides to peep on Sakura before being strongly discouraged by Yamato.
My question is, what’s up with Naruto apparently being attracted/still having a crush on Sakura? How does this fit into a SNS reading of the manga?
(Btw I also find that moment weird because (A) Naruto’s “crush” is basically nonexistent immediately before and after this scene, and (B) I thought Naruto didn’t approve of peeping because he always called Jiraiya out on it?)
Anyway, thank you for your time
Hi @rosencrantznewblue ! ♡ thankyou for your ask (ﾉ´ з `)ノ
"Sakura goes to the women’s section by herself, while Naruto goes to the men’s bath section with Yamato and Sai (and Naruto also seems embarrassed and oddly flustered? Which is weird because I thought that bathing among other men isn’t weird in Japanese culture, but maybe Naruto he just doesn’t feel comfortable around them?)"
Exactly. So you kind of answered your own question there. It's weird isn't it? Why would Naruto be so awkward bathing with Sai and Yamato? Well, at the time these two aren't his favorite people, sure. But this is a pattern with Naruto.
Let's examine the scene first.
He hugs his knees, barricading himself almost hiding underwater. This, while Yamato expresses that "guys being together naked makes them feel like companions!" Naruto who kept blushing throughout the scene, very much doesn't feel that way.
In fact, Sai decided to comment on his..
It makes Naruto shout really loudly mentioning, well "penises". He went from being awkward to pretty much hysterical. Naruto overreacts despite Sai overstepping boundaries.
This makes all the ladies laugh.
This is important because he already looked nervous. And now he embarrassed himself in front of his new teammates. -'Totally uncool what would they think of this behavior?'- It is realistic. Well.. this is clever writing because Naruto's story and how he comes to deal with his own feelings and understanding them is a huge part of it. How does he deal with this awkward situation?
Of course when he hears the woman laugh he gets an idea and grins. He's seen Jiraiya do it too many times after all. Peeking at the woman's bath. It is complete deflection. Naturally, Yamato stands up when he figures out what Naruto is about to do.
"My question is, what’s up with Naruto apparently being attracted/still having a crush on Sakura?"
He doesn't. It has nothing to do with Sakura. I think, if I remember correctly, the Anime did make this scene about Sakura but that wasn't the point. Kishimoto is such a damn genius who depicts Naruto's struggle brilliantly in subtle and obvious ways. There is another one-shot where the exact same pattern with Naruto in the Onsen appears. It isn't Canon but made by Kishimoto anyway.
Naruto lies when Sakura and Sai see him brain-rotting over Sasuke. Instead he says he was planning a date with Sakura.
When Kakashi tells Naruto he likes him Naruto yet again overreacts. He tells him to "not say weird shit like that you friggin idiot!" and "your creepy ass threw me off!" even though very obviously Kakashi didn't mean it like that. And Naruto's reaction was completely uncalled for.
And during the Bell Test(? if I remember), Kakashi said he liked Naruto as well. This isn't the first time at least. Yet when Naruto is older and struggling he gets awkward and flustered about it. When Sai pulls an arm around Naruto he gets mad. On the other hand.. When others insult Sakura by calling her ugly or a bitch (Konohamaru) he doesn't care. Naruto didn't see any difference in her appearance after the time-skip she "looked fine!" and "didn't change at all!" even though Sasuke looks " カッコイイ" (cool, attractive, good looking) and again in Gaiden (handsome). Even Haku was cuter than Sakura. He has no problem calling his mother beautiful either.
.. okay there are too many moments. The point is, just take Naruto's confession under the bridge, his thoughts during VotE1 and confessions VotE2 and his patterns make sense. Peeking at the women after that awkward situation is part of it. (As is lying.) Kishimoto slow-burned his way through Naruto realizing that his feelings for Sasuke weren't normal and tried to hide it with the help of Sakura, because it is convenient. And I think it is so clever- Imma stop now.
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a tidbit abt the animatronic-reader au
ive kinda got a story/plot idea for the au but im too lazy to like draw it or anything so here ya go. yea idk why im like this either but more info below th cut
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okay so this idea is basically just centered around the idea that repair-themed-staff-bot Reader would be around during the events of Security Breach, lowkey trying to help Gregory and Freddy but really, really not wanting to get in trouble.
im also imagining that Reader-bot was brought into the Plex either shortly before or shortly after Moon got the Afton-virus, and also also going to assume that he was bugging out for a little while before Security Breach takes place.
Reader-bot, like the other, more basic STAFF bots, is generally allowed to wander the ‘Plex at night. Most nights they just hang out in the Parts and Services area, maybe there’s a station/storage area there specifically for STAFF bots not in use? Idk, i havent looked at the map in depth in a while. Point is, most of the time they just kinda,, hang out in their room, essentially. They don’t feel like they’re ‘cool’ enough to hang around the Glamrock animatronics, and they’re either too timid or not close enough to Sun/Moon to comfortably hang out with them for a whole night. Yeah, their whole thing is feeling awkward and out of place in this au idk what to tell you.
Maybe one night when they’re out just kind of exploring the ‘Plex, Infected-Moon starts tracking them and then chasing them down, just to get a kick out of it. The first time they don’t even think to run away so he easily overpowers them and leaves some amount of damage on them that leaves them defunct for a few days before they’re up and functional again. After the first time, Moon makes a habit of it, and each time it happens, Reader wises up more and more until eventually they always run from him like they’re running for their life. One night he catches them and in a moment of panic and quick thinking, they grab a screwdriver from their utility belt and slash him with it. It distracts him enough for them to get away, but from that point on it’s fuckin PERSONAL
And that’s also the first time Reader-bot realizes that, even though there’s nothing wrong with them, nothing they can find on a diagnostic scan, something is strange and they don’t like it. They don’t know it yet, but that’s the first time they noticed they were FEELING something, and they were feeling afraid.
After the events of Security Breach- assuming Afton is gone but the ‘Plex hasn’t burned- Moon is cured of the virus and can only remember some of what happened while he was infected. He recalls thinking that he and Reader-bot used to play a fun game of cat and mouse and that it had sometimes been the time of his life, but he can’t remember the exact details of what the game was and how it was played.
So, the first time Reader-bot and Moon cross paths after the virus is gone, he’s confused when they all but RUN in the opposite direction- and from then on, they do everything in their power to avoid him as much as they possibly can. They avoid working in areas of the ‘Plex where they know he is until he’s left. During the dark hours, they’re nowhere to be found. Yeah, they don’t feel as fondly about the games as he did.
And Moon was confused- he’d played some silly games with them at some point, hadn’t he? And why would they act so strange around him anyway, they were a STAFF bot- clueless, brainless, as awake and aware as a dried up ink pen. Okay, so maybe they did something a little different than the usual STAFF bot, but that was like expecting the ice-cream bot to be special just because it’s not a copy-paste of the other hundred bots in this dumb building.
And they apparently liked SUN just fine- it was JUST Moon they didn’t like. They even liked the Glamrock animatronics, and THEY’D had the same virus he had! So what gives??
Moon has to be rehabilitated back to being a daycare attendant again before the daycare can open again, he’s still just a little too unpredictable for anyone’s taste. Reader-bot was damaged at some point during the night of the breach, but they’re fixed up now and back to work. They used to spend empty hours in the daycare, Sun was one of the only animatronics that treated them as an equal and didn’t mind that they were silent or just preferred to watch and listen, but now... Well, during open hours, that’s where Moon is.
ANYWAY IDK WHERE IT GOES FROM THERE THATS ALL I’VE GOT SORRY idk man im sorry but this shit been sitting in my head giving me brainrot all day and idk i thought someone might find it at least a little interesting
#rambles#long post#not fine au#repairbot reader au#fnaf fanfic#it was in reality not fine fic#bones of a rabbit#bones of a rabbit fic#Fanfic ideas#fanfic rambles#word vomit lmao sorry#idk my brain is weird today#sun/moon x reader#repairbot au#idea rambles#i might delete this later idk#i just wanted the words out of my brain kjdfjhsdf they were all stuck in there and it was getting annoying#this whole idea can be summed up as#moon: gives readerbot trauma#readerbot: doesn't like moon#moon: >:O
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Thoughts on the new paradoxes? They’re pretty disappointing ngl
(This is a special celebratory review in honor of the new Pokemon Day content. Reviews after this will return to the usual earliest-first to latest order.)
I'll start with Iron Leaves seeing as it's the least interesting of the two. Unsurprisingly, it's Virizion, But A Robot(TM), same as all the other Violet paradoxes. I've already discussed how boring this is from a character design standpoint, so I won't waste too much time reiterating that point here.
Visually, it's... Virizion, but a robot. Once again, not a lot to say. The most I can point out is that the pink stripe on the head is a nice change from Virizion's black, and I like the darker, higher-contrast green color here.
While we're here, I might as well compare this to the sketch in the books. I do think this concept was a bit awkward—mostly due to the short, chunky legs, which connected to the body in an incredibly awkward way—but I also feel like the idea of blending the three versions together is much more interesting, given that it's actually a robot with a unique design instead of the exact same design we already had. We have other "fusion" Violet paradoxes (such as Iron Valiant), so it's not like this would've been out of place. Like I said, what we got isn't bad per say; it's just very "meh".
Also, it looks absolutely ridiculous with the swords out.
I think I accidentally gave people the impression that I hated Walking Wake when I made a meme comparing it to the original sketch design. I do prefer the concept art much more, for reasons I'll get into in a bit, but this design isn't even close to the worse past paradox (I'll give that honor to Flutter Mane, on the grounds of it being too similar to the original design). I have issues with it, but it gets points for originality if nothing else.
Conceptually, Walking Wake's a bit... odd, given that it's Suicune, But A Raptor(TM). While all of the past paradoxes have prehistoric traits to them, they usually make sense for the base Pokemon (Koraidon and Roaring Moon have feathers because they're dragons/reptiles, Brute Bonnet is based off of prehistoric plant life, Slither Wing is a larval form of sorts, etc.). It's kind of jarring to have something that goes off in such an odd direction; it's hard to even see this as a Suicune relative (which, to be fair, it is a paradox 'mon and isn't supposed to make sense lore-wise, but I'm talking visuals here).
I think part of what makes it so strange is that there are plenty of quadrupedal dinosaurs, dragons, and reptiles out there, so there wasn't really a reason to give it a raptor-like shape. A quadrupedal past Suicune with lizard elements would still look different from modern-day Suicune without feeling quite as jarring.
In terms of the design itself, it's fine. I actually like the lower body a lot—the twin tails look a lot better and much more natural than Suicune's weird backwards-facing ribbon tails, and the markings and colors are well-balanced. The head is also fine.
However, I think the mane is WAY too huge; it obscures way too much of the body and draws far more attention to itself than the head, despite the head having the horns on it. (The purple color doesn't help here, but too be fair regular Suicune has that issue so I can't blame Walking Wake for that.) If the mane just wrapped around the shoulders and down the back or something that would be one thing, but this is just awkward and clunky. It also has the unfortunate effect of making the arms look much further down on the body than they actually are.
As previously mentioned, I'm a big fan of this concept sketch. I like that it's a fusion of all three beasts (it's strange to just have Suicune and nothing else; same goes for Virizion up there), and it looks incredibly powerful and ancient. The mane is maybe still a skosh too much (though less problematic here because it doesn't hide as much of the underlying anatomy) and the ribbon tails feel a little out of place, but this was otherwise a solid design, and it's a shame we'll likely never see it realized. Like I said though, I can at least respect Walking Wake for creativity, as there's more originality in that design than this one at least.
Anyway, overall: Iron Leaves doesn't have anything technically wrong with it but it's very bland and boring, like most of the future Paradoxes. Walking Wake is much more original, even if I find the sudden shift in species strange and a bit awkward. Overall, I prefer the concept art for both, but what we got was by no means terrible.
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Been playing ffxiv, paid to skip HW but really enjoyed stormblood, saw emet-selch for the first time.
I'm very impressed that his first introduction to the player was to be shot and rag dolled down the stairs, it immediately differentiates him from the other ascians who just say ominous and vague nonsense that never amounts to anything. It was almost more sinister, because it really illustrates the point that the ascians are noncorporeal horrors piloting a meat puppet.
Also very minor detail but I noticed even back in stormblood, instead of writing a boring talk quest as "go talk to so-and-so", instead they say "go meet SOMEONE at such-and-such place". Like it's so very minor, but instead of straight up telling me who you're going to meet they just sorta hint and say how excited that person is to see you again.
Mechanically it's the exact same boring quest format, and maybe I don't otherwise even care about that character, but even that tiny bit of speculating who it is and the implication that they have any kind of emotional response AT ALL is already elevating the writing.
I get the majority of quest text boils down to telling the player to go to X or talk to Y or collect Z and there's only so many ways to do that, and clarity of communication is always top priority, but in something long format like an mmo where the player has likely plugged in a hundred hours already you can kinda assume they've been trained to expect a certain order of events and can play with the format a bit.
Also the last duty of sb was one of those "everyone shows up at the big battle as npcs and cheers at you to go on to the big boss while they hold back reinforcements" fights and it's very anime but honestly it always works on me.
Been leveling up dark knight, but I bought the level 80 warrior boost because I hate playing with other people and I wanted to solo a bunch of the main scenario raids instead of queueing. Also I'm playing dark knight because aesthetics, and tanking for a group is too much responsibility for me.
Honestly dk kinda sucks compared to paladin and warrior, way less mitigation and self healing, and though it feels like I'm doing more damage it's still not as much as a pure dps.
Also bought a bunch of clothes on the shop in a moment of weakness, but now my outfit is so cool I don't want to change into anything else! And I kinda miss wearing vanilla gear and seeing your outfit change as you pick up upgrades. Oh well atleast I'm cute and it avoids those awkward moments when a piece from a new set doesn't fit with your current fit.
Ffxiv clothing designs are so gorgeous, even the shitty low-level vanilla garbage is kinda cute. Ppl who buy store stuff obviously look good but I have way more respect for the glamours I see where people just got really creative with in-game items. The graphics are like 10 years out of date but the hair and clothes and faces are still miles better than some of biowares stuff (guys I love you I'm on your side let's figure this out you can't just make everyone bald)
Also I've noticed the cuts scene cameras do a trick anime does a lot to cut down animation costs, the framing and panning and angles do a LOT of the work when they otherwise can't get these limited models to emote that much. Or else they just fully cut away and let a sound effect imply an action took place and your brain just fills in the difference.
Anyway I'm addicted and am probably wasting a lot of time on things I should be doing instead but it's nice to have something to hyper fixate on for a while, and I haven't even started SB or EW and I've heard they're both life changing so maybe I'll just glut myself until I've wrung all the dopamine I can out of it.
Also I've realized there is such a jump in writing quality in SB that I'm only really emotionally attached to lyse and hien and the general, the rest of the scions are all kind of... idk unlikable?? They're all the same kind of snarky but not really funny, and speak intelligently but not really with any character or having much to say. Allisae being maybe the exception but I feel like she doesn't get much screen time compared to her brother.
It was very touching that she's the tough prickly one, but very honestly tells you she feels alone and sadly asks you not to leave her in a moment of vulnerability before the fight where she reaches for your hand desperately before her soul is teleported away. Like damn yeah this is manipulative but you got me! I'm invested now!
Also that little crystal cat boy was in arr and I never finished/paid attention to his quest line so idk how he ended up i SB, guess I'll find out.
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