#/pbs/mrs p-head

[vietnameselogoworld]

My wife... 🥰

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 25 - Part-Time Lover

IN THIS CHAPTER: New routines, chilling at Lover's Lake, and Eddie and Dottie take a Big Step [17.4k]

WARNINGS: self-esteem issues (body shapes and stretch marks, both positive and negative), eddie being a simp for his girl (also maybe the author aka me being a lil gay over women's bodies), suggestive themes, jokes about male masturbation, discussions about past not so great sexual experiences (not explicit, focused on feelings and consent), allusions to sex (fluffy and poetic), NO EXPLICIT SMUT

A/N: dottie's experiences with her ex boyfriend in this chapter are heavily based on my own, please be kind. i'm not trying to infantilise her, i'm just being honest about what being unexperienced was like for some of us when we were teenagers. hope you enjoy it even if you can't relate (and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

We are undercover passion on the run Chasing love up against the sun

Friday, June 20th - 1986

“There! I see them, park here!”

“I have eyes, man, stop hitting me while I’m driving!”

The week following their graduation, the Hellfire Class of ‘86 had been presented with a daunting task: syncing their schedules to make time for each other while officially entering the workforce. After leaving high school, each of them knew that new routines had to be established, and so they quickly discovered that familiarity was key in navigating the strange grown-up world they had been thrown into so nonchalantly. When Eddie’s van parked outside of Giulia’s that first Monday and Jeff and Gareth spilled out from the inside with snacks and vending machine sandwiches like they were spoils of war, Dottie and Donny immediately clocked out and wordlessly agreed to this new tradition that was, in fact, a continuation of everything they held dear while in school - love and companionship in the form of sharing a meal.

A plan guided by convenience had been quickly laid out: Eddie finished his apprenticeship shift at 1 pm, and upon leaving he’d pick Jeff up at the last house in his route as a very in-demand dog walker over in the upper-middle class side of Hawkins. Together, they’d head to Big Buy where they’d wait in the parking lot for Gareth to clock out at 2, and finally, they’d meet up with Donny and Dottie at a small park nearby Giulia’s, always sitting under the very same tree Gareth had frantically been pointing at through the van’s dashboard.

“Alright, nerds, what’s on the menu?” Donny said on that particularly hot Friday as he saw their friends climb out of the van, ready to get out of the heat trapped inside its metallic body.

“We snagged two pizzas today! Donny’s been learning to throw the dough and we got to keep the ones that didn’t fall to the floor,” Dottie said, proudly presenting the boxes resting on their picnic blanket to the boys.

“I’ve got Mountain Dew, Dr. Pepper, and a huge bag of chips,” said Gareth, letting the plastic bag fall from his hand onto the middle of their circle.

“What kind?” asked Jeff, gathering the plastic cups and napkins he’d shoved in his backpack that morning before leaving home.

“Sour cream and onion.”

“Nice.”

“I’ve got grapes, pretzels, and two egg sandwiches from the vending machine,” said Eddie, opening his lunchbox and throwing the bag of green grapes towards Dottie who cooed happily.

“I’ve got apple slices, M&Ms, two PB&Js, and Mrs. Kendall gave me a bunch of jerky as a snack, not really sure why,” Jeff finished the roll call, getting a handful of gas station jerky out of his backpack’s front pocket.

“Do you think I’ll die if I put jerky on top of my pizza?” asked Gareth at large.

“Dunno, but go for it,” Donny encouraged him, filling cups with soda and distributing them around.

Dottie loved having lunch with her friends at the park. On Tuesday, it had rained all morning so they’d instead sought out refuge at one of the booths within Giulia’s, Donny’s family more than happy to play host to the teens while they prepped for the dinner shift. They’d had a pleasant lunch that day, but there was nothing that could compare to the sense of freedom she felt while sitting on their blanket, pooling all their lunches and snacks together and complaining about their new jobs.

After only a few days, it became clear to everyone that Donny was the privileged one within their friend group - his post was inside the kitchen learning all about his Dad’s craft, and he was taking to it with gusto and innate skills he had never known he’d had but seemed to have begun developing in his Home Ec classes. Gareth, on the other end of the scale, was seriously considering asking to be switched to the graveyard shift if he had to play nice to yet another presumptuous customer demanding to see a manager because he wasn’t allowed to accept their expired coupons.

Eddie felt like he was somewhere between the two. He loved getting his hands greasy and figuring out what was wrong with a car, the satisfaction of fixing something and seeing Thatcher’s proud smile was easily the best part of the job. However, he did not enjoy the fact that all the rich idiots in town came in with their expensive cars asking for repairs to be done quicker than it was humanly possible.

Carson Humphrey, Andy Humphrey’s father, had come into the shop on Wednesday for a simple oil change. Thatcher was more than happy to let Eddie take over, confident in his apprentice’s budding skills, but it soon became clear that wasn’t happening - Carson loudly proclaimed he didn’t want “that good for nothing Munson boy” touching his car and breaking something that would certainly cost more than Eddie’s salary to replace. Thatcher had sent a red faced Eddie to the break room, told him to get himself a soda from the vending machine, and did the oil change as fast as he could to get Humphrey Sr. out of his shop and onto his merry way.

“Don’t let that asshole get to you,” Thatcher had said when he found Eddie smoking behind the shop after Carson left. “Thinks he’s all high and mighty ‘cause he has money, well… that ain’t stopping his wife from askin’ for Dougie’s number when she was here last month.”

“No fuckin’ way,” Eddie scoffed, cigarette in his mouth while leaning over to see Doug’s shiny bald head through the window.

“You ain’t heard it from me, boy,” the older man laughed. “But women love a man willing to get his hands dirty. Ask that girl of yours, she’ll tell you.”

Eddie had simply nodded and kept his hair down to hide his ears that were surely becoming more red by the second, quickly dismissing any salacious thoughts as his wristwatch beeped loudly to announce the end of his shift. He distracted himself with yet another smoke and loud headbanging music as he drove down the street - he did not need to hear shit from either Jeff or Gareth as he picked them up, his jeans feeling uncomfortably tight under the Indiana sun.

“You guys will never guess who I saw today,” Gareth said back in the present, a slice of pizza in one hand and a handful of chips in the other.

“Wheeler?” Eddie ventured a guess.

“...You’re an asshole, you knew that?”

“I never said which Wheeler! It could have been Nancy,” he defended himself.

“Why would anyone care if I saw Nancy Wheeler?”

“Can’t believe we’ve got more updates on Henderson than we do on Mike,” Jeff commented, ignoring their bickering.

“I know, right? Did you talk to him?” Dottie asked, splitting an egg sandwich in two and giving the other half to her waiting boyfriend.

“Well, not exactly…,” Gareth grimaced.

The day after graduation, the Hellfire Club got together at the Henderson house to send Dustin on his merry way to Camp Know Where, even if it was at the expense of putting their D&D sessions on hold until he made his triumphant return a couple of weeks later. Still, his friends took it upon themselves to help him pack with no complaints, all while excitedly chattering about the kinds of activities he’d be participating in once he arrived at camp. They also, of course, teased him endlessly about the fact that he was about to be reunited with his “hotter-than-Phoebe-Cates-but-still-a-genius” girlfriend, pestering him to bring back pictures as proof of her existence.

In the midst of good-natured ribbing, the older boys helped him shove his heavy bags into Claudia Henderson’s trunk; the kind woman watched them with a gentle smile on her face, grateful for the little community his son had found himself a part of upon entering high school. While they were hugging Dustin goodbye and wishing him a fun time at camp, Dottie couldn’t help but notice that after interacting with both Mike and Erica, the previously relaxed boy grew strangely serious before pressing slips of paper into their hands.

“Radio in if you need me, okay?” he said, looking at Mike with intense eyes. “I’ll check in at this frequency every morning.”

“Dustin-” Mike began to protest, but he was cut short before he could say more.

“I’m serious,” Dustin turned to Erica. “You can use Cerebro, my Mom will let you in. I can be back in a day tops.”

“You worry too much,” Erica dismissed him, but there was something in her expression that said she was taking his words to heart. “Go to your nerd camp with your nerd girlfriend and we’ll see you in a few weeks. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay, okay, just… y’know.”

“I know. We’ll keep you updated, dumbass.”

“Thanks,” he smiled at her genuinely before moving on like nothing had happened.

If the rest of the boys noticed the weird exchange, no one said anything, and thus Dustin left Hawkins in high spirits, grinning at the sight of his friends waving at him from his front lawn as his Mom’s car got smaller and smaller as it headed down the road.

It was a shame, however, that with Dustin away for a few weeks, Mike chose to essentially become a recluse in his own home instead of hanging out with everyone else. Unlike Erica who was spending all her free time roaming around town with her gang of middle school girl friends trailing behind her, the middle Wheeler sibling hadn’t poked his head out of his basement all week after seeing Dustin off. If, in fact, what Gareth was saying was true, this was the first Mike sighting they’d had since Saturday, and they knew from Dustin’s midweek phone call to Eddie that he hadn’t heard from him either.

Gareth had been counting the coins in his register for the third time that morning when he saw Karen Wheeler, baby Holly, and Mike approach, cart full of groceries. He’d exchanged pleasantries with his friend’s mother as he scanned their items but the younger boy seemed overall uninterested in joining the conversation, quickly pushing the cart (along with his baby sister) away towards their car while leaving behind his mom to pay.

Seeing the older boy weirded out by her son’s behavior, Karen took it upon herself to apologize on his behalf. Apparently Mike had been in a foul mood all week because his friends in California couldn’t make the big trip to Indiana like they had anticipated, and that meant that he wouldn’t see his best friend Will or his girlfriend Jane until further notice. It’s okay, I understand, Gareth had said in a dramatic tone. Young love will do that to you, and Karen had laughed earnestly before bidding him goodbye and following her son to the parking lot.

“You can’t be serious,” Donny deadpanned when Gareth finished retelling the encounter to his friends.

“100% true. He’s pissy because his girlfriend isn’t coming over anymore.”

“That’s bullshit,” Jeff laughed. “He saw her in March, he can’t be that whipped.”

“Right? That’s what I said!”

“I dunno, guys,” Eddie said, pensive. “I’d be pretty upset if I couldn’t see my girl for months.”

“Well, Ed, lucky for you no one is planning to cut your right hand off,” Gareth said sarcastically, and Eddie pushed him over with his foot.

“I’m being serious, jackass. Can’t a guy be a romantic and travel to see his girlfriend often?”

“Any guy? Yes, sure. You, King of the Cynics? Give us a break,” Jeff scoffed.

“You’d really go all the way to Cali every few months just for a girl?” Dottie asked, eyes stuck to her sandwich. Will you actually come visit me in Michigan when I’m gone like you said you would? was what she really wanted to ask. Will you still love me even if we don’t see each other every day? Will I still be your girl when I live in a different state than you?

“Darling, I’d travel to another dimension for my girl,” he replied, voice a little bit too earnest for the casual conversation they were having.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking corny,” Gareth threw his head back as he laid dramatically on the blanket. “You used to be cool, man, what happened to you?”

“I turned 20. Careful, it’ll happen to you too if you don’t watch out.”

The conversation quickly switched to different topics, like new music someone had recently discovered, a cool video game coming out soon, and most importantly, making plans for the upcoming weekend. Jeff was trying to convince everyone to go see a movie on Saturday, cleverly mentioning the air conditioning as a big selling point while they packed up the remnants of their lunch and headed to Eddie’s van.

“Is there even anything good playing right now?” Gareth asked, wishing the inflatable pool gathering dust in his garage didn’t have a hole in it.

“Don’t think so, Aliens isn’t coming out until next month,” Donny said. “Dot wanted to watch Labyrinth but that was next week, I think.”

“Hey, Dot!” Gareth yelled at her; she had stayed behind to fold their huge picnic blanket with Eddie. “When’s Labyrinth coming out?”

“Next Friday! Why?” she yelled back.

“Jeff wants to go to the movies tomorrow!”

“Unless it’s horror, I’m in. They have air conditioning!”

“See? What did I tell you?” Jeff said to Gareth and Donny, grinning. “We should go see Never Too Young to Die.”

“No! Nope, no, nuh-uh, I’m not watching any John Stamos willingly, my Nonna’s obsession with him is enough for me,” Donny groaned.

“She a General Hospital fan?” Gareth snickered.

“Yeah but they sent his character to jail a few years ago so he left the show and she followed him to his new sitcom. It’s shit, don’t watch it.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Jeff affirmed. “But. Gene Simmons is in the movie so I think we should go watch it anyway.”

“Okay, now hold up-”

As soon as the boys disappeared behind the van, Eddie deliberately slowed down his actions so he could steal away a few seconds to talk to Dottie in private without their friends eavesdropping. While pretending like he was still trying to fit the blanket into her backpack, he looked up at Dottie with one eye closed to keep the sun from blinding him, his dimples on display as he beamed at her. She smiled, savoring their first moment alone of the day.

“So I was thinking,” he began, as he casually threw her bag over his shoulder and began slowly walking towards his van.

“Go on.”

“D’you wanna do something different today?”

“Different like what?”

“We could go to the lake,” he said, like he hadn’t been planning on inviting her all day. “We have a blanket already, and it’s a nice day, we could swim a little. Dunno, it’s too hot to be inside. And I think your Dad might be getting suspicious that I’m always around when he comes home.”

“Oh,” Dottie exclaimed, turning shy. “I- I’d love that but I’m not… I didn’t bring my swimsuit so-”

“Whatchu need a swimsuit for?”

Three sets of eyes were staring at them from the rear of the van, having been hidden from their sight in search of a bit of shadow to stand in while they waited for their friends. Jeff looked curious but innocent enough; it was Gareth and Donny that Eddie was suddenly afraid of. They were both looking at them with equally intrigued expressions, but where Donny was encouraging, Gareth was dangerously mischievous.

“Are you guys going to the pool without us?” the curly haired boy asked, staring pointedly at his best friends; Dottie looked like they’d been caught with their hands inside the proverbial cookie jar.

“No, no, definitely not,” Eddie stuttered. “I mean, who wants to go to the pool, right? It’s full of fuckin’ toddlers and their mommies, that’s so lame-”

“We were just talking about going to the lake but we don’t have swimsuits on us so we can’t go,” Dottie said, hoping to put an end to the topic.

“We can go anyways and swim in our undies,” Donny proposed, raising his eyebrows in Eddie’s direction. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Uh, guys, I don’t think Dot’s comfortable with that,” Jeff looked at his friends.

“Yeah, yeah, totally, that’s why we said we weren’t going,” Eddie added, pushing everyone towards the van doors. “Why were you out here?”

“You didn’t give us your keys,” Gareth said, grinning at him.

“We can go.”

“Huh?” Eddie turned around to look at Dottie who was staring at the gravel.

“I, uh… It’s really hot today and we should- I mean, we don’t have to get in but we can- if you guys want to, we could still go. To the lake.”

“Yeah? You wanna go?” he asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, sure,” she smiled at him, cheeks red from the sun. “Why not?”

“Okay. Okay!” he said. “Everyone get in the van, we’re going to the lake!”

“Oooh, can we stop to buy beer on the way?”

“And more chips!”

Dottie and Eddie looked at each other sheepishly and shrugged before following their friends. Time alone for the lovebirds would have to wait until later, but who could say no to a new adventure presented in such an impromptu but lovely way? Summer had only just begun after all, and no one could see the storm brewing on the horizon yet. Might as well make the most out of their day if the sun was still shining, right?

Eddie had had it all planned out. As he tossed and turned in his bed the previous night, he decided that on Friday he was going to take his girlfriend to their spot at the lake, lay down on their blanket under the trees and kick their shoes off for a while. He had made sure his acoustic guitar was tuned to perfection, and had shoved it into the back of his van to serenade her until the sun went down, the Snoopy thermos bottle Wayne had gotten him for his birthday hidden away in his backpack and full of apple flavored Kool-Aid - her favorite. He was going to romance the shit out of his girl and kiss her until he felt they’d had enough without having to worry for a single second about her Dad coming home from work early and catching them sprawled out on the couch. Or her bed. Or worse, the kitchen counter.

The Hellfire Class of ‘86 was touchy, there was no denying it. None of them really knew what personal space meant, everyone was always on top of each other, and they’d shared enough meals together to still be disgusted about the notion of having to drink from the same cup. Eddie and Dottie were actually not the worst offenders of the group, at least not in public, but by the sheer nature of their secret relationship, the pair were on their toes about just how much physical familiarity they displayed in front of others. This was exactly the reason why during the past week, they’d reserved their soft touches and gentle caresses to when they were tucked away inside Dottie’s home, shielded from any straying eyes and the relentless gossip mill that haunted Hawkins at every step.

On Thursday, however, things had taken a turn. Maybe it had been the climbing heat of the summer, or the natural excitement that having a shared secret filled them with. Maybe it had been the fact that the cute domesticity they had enjoyed while they were still in high school had intensified by virtue of now having the house alone for entire afternoons while James was still at work. Maybe it was Eddie’s work coveralls like Thatcher had implied, lightly stained with grease and tied at his waist, or maybe it was Dottie’s flowy red sundress, his favorite color. The truth was that the waters between them had reached a boiling point, and Eddie had finally snapped and crowded his girlfriend against the counter while she was putting together a snack tray for them to enjoy, uncaring to the clock that ticked on above the kitchen door.

In an uncharacteristic move, Dottie had let herself take what she needed from her boyfriend, and in turn, he had let her explore this new side of their relationship in earnest. He’d helped her climb onto the counter where she sat prettily, lips attached to lips and hands roaming with the eagerness of an explorer. She’d kissed him before, but never like this. Never with this much urgency, like she couldn’t bear the thought of not kissing him. Mouths roamed to necks, fronts pressed against fronts, and Eddie ventured a burning hand under her skirt, tracing up, up, up on the outside of her left thigh when the sound of a car door being closed with force made them jump apart.

They’d looked at the entrance door with apprehension for a few seconds before they heard the neighbor’s dog barking loudly, clearly welcoming his owner who was unlatching his noisy sidegate and trying to control his furry friend before anyone in the neighborhood complained. Eddie and Dottie stared at each other for a few seconds, hearts racing and breathing ragged before he broke into a fit of nervous giggles. She’d tucked her head down and smiled shyly, getting off the counter and going back to the task she’d been working on before she’d let her innermost thoughts guide her actions.

Eddie had fooled around with people before, but this, he felt, was different. This wasn’t a one-and-done deal, some fun in the back of his van that he could feel good about while ignoring the fact that no one had really asked him for his name or his number before he saw them leave. No, this was different because Dottie was different. She was his girlfriend, not a random stranger at The Hideout, and yet Eddie couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the way she pretended nothing had happened for the rest of the day. There was no more flirty banter, no cheeky hands on knees, no sneaky kisses after her Dad walked into the house 15 minutes later. Eddie didn’t claim to be an expert in relationships, but he figured then he had to follow her lead.

If Dottie wanted to wait, he’d wait for as long as she wanted, and so he was going to take her to the lake and sing for her until his throat hurt. Nothing more, nothing less. For her, Eddie Munson could and would be the perfect boyfriend. That is, if their friends could stop getting in his way.

“Sweet, the dock is still here!” Gareth exclaimed, looking out of the window.

“Park over there, man,” Donny instructed from the co-pilot seat. “Sun’s gonna move soon, we’ll get more shadow under that tree.”

Quickly, all five teens jumped off the van before it came to a halt, desperate to feel the breeze on their skin. The afternoon heat had given way to an oppressive humidity that could be felt under every piece of clothing they were wearing, and no one wanted to sit on Eddie’s itchy fabric and leather seats for any longer than they absolutely had to. They spread their blanket near the van, sneakers piled up on every corner so the wind couldn’t steal it away while they were cooling off in the lake, a plastic milk crate in the middle serving as an impromptu table.

“Who the fuck bought Bud Light?” Jeff asked, hauling the cold case of beer cans out of the back of the van.

“It was the cheapest one they had,” Eddie said.

“No way PBR isn’t cheaper,” Gareth said.

“Yeah, but PBR tastes like corn,” Donny laughed, dropping two new bags of chips onto the blanket.

“Ed, what’s in here?” Dottie’s soft voice rang through the clearing.

She was holding his backpack on one hand, the heavy Snoopy thermos on the other. Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he hoisted his guitar higher on his shoulder, desperately trying to act nonchalant so the rest of the boys wouldn’t pick up on his now ruined plan.

“That’d be apple Kool-Aid,” he admitted, a shy smile gracing his face. “Forgot to tell you I had some earlier, sorry.”

“Ew,” Gareth scrunched his face. “That’s, like, the worst kind of Kool-Aid.”

“Hey, watch it,” Eddie said, pushing him off balance lightly. “That’s her favorite.”

“Your favorite Kool-Aid flavor is apple?” the younger boy turned to her. “That’s so gross, it tastes like piss.”

“Damn, G, whose piss have you been drinking to know that?” she retorted, making their friends snort.

“Okay, enough chit-chat! I’m overheating here, let’s get in the water,” Donny said, bending down to take his socks off.

“Last in buys the popcorn tomorrow!” Gareth yelled, pulling his shirt off and letting his shorts fall to the ground before running towards the wooden dock in his briefs.

Donny and Eddie looked at each other, shrugged once, and hurried to get their clothes off as well, both of them immediately cannonballing into the cold water. Dottie watched them shove each other under the surface, loud screaming and laughter echoing within the confines of their little hidden place in the woods. She hadn’t missed the meaning of the bottle in her hand - Eddie had thought of her that morning before he left for work. He’d packed it for her, along with the guitar resting on the checkered fabric on the grass. Her eyes searched for her boyfriend, his wild hair flattened with the weight of the droplets clinging to his curls. To her side, blue and white fabric rustled, startling her out of her thoughts.

“Are you getting in?” Jeff asked when she turned to look at him.

“Uh, I- I’m not sure,” Dottie admitted. “You?”

“Y-yeah. Same.”

She examined him with gentle eyes, noticing the beads of sweat gathering at his hairline. It was clear he was feeling hot, his thick jeans sticking to the skin of his legs, the fabric around his collar getting darker with perspiration. She felt the heat too, but she had had the foresight of wearing shorts and a cotton tank top that day; his three-quarter sleeved Black Sabbath shirt didn’t look like it allowed much air to reach his feverish skin under it.

Donny and Gareth have older sisters, she realized all of a sudden as Jeff looked forlornly at their friends. It was probably normal for siblings to see each other in various states of undress as they grew up, especially if they shared bedrooms or bathrooms. Donny had been Vittoria and Isabella’s baby doll before little Giulietta had been born, and while the age difference between Gareth and Gretchen was smaller than Donny’s and his older sisters’, the fact that their bedrooms were connected through a Jack-and-Jill meant that they’d seen each other in their underwear more often than either of them could count by the time they’d both entered elementary school.

Jeff only had an older brother, and he probably felt a bit shy taking his clothes in front of Dottie. If she was being honest with herself, had she not been worried about being semi-naked in front of Eddie for the first time ever, she would most likely have had the same concerns as him.

“You can go in with them if you want to,” she said, motioning towards the lake with her head and trying to be encouraging. “I don’t mind you guys being in your undies around me if that’s what’s stopping you.”

“No, it’s- it’s fine, I’m not hot,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Jeff, you’re sweating buckets. I can turn around until you’re in the water if that makes you feel better.”

“No, it’s- it’s not you,” he sighed, apprehension on his face. “It’s everyone, I guess? I- I’m not used to, like, showing my legs to people. It makes me feel weird.”

“Oh,” Dottie said, not really understanding the issue but still aiming to be supportive. “Are you like super hairy or something? Because Donny could knit a blanket with his leg hair and no one cares, I promise no one’s gonna make fun of you.”

“No, no, I’m not hairy,” he snorted. “I mean I have some hair, I’m a guy, but no, he’s definitely the hairiest out of all of us.”

“Dunno, man, you haven’t seen me in winter when I don’t shave,” she joked, and he smiled at her gratefully for making their conversation feel lighter.

“It’s not hair I’m worried about,” Jeff said, turning towards her and lowering his voice. “Swear you won’t laugh?”

“It’s just me, Jeff,” she put her hands in her back pockets and shrugged. “When have I ever laughed at you about anything?”

Jeff hadn’t known what to expect when Dottie first joined Hellfire. They’d had a couple of female members in the club as the years had gone by, but none of them were quite like her and he didn’t know what to make of it at that time. Dottie, for starters, did not look like she was into heavy metal or nerdy stuff, dressing like any other girl he could have seen on the street, complete with trendy pastels and dainty florals. She had, however, been incredibly kind and not judgemental, eager to learn how to play D&D and taking it way more seriously than he’d thought she would on their first session, and that - along with the snacks she’d brought with her that day - had helped make him less wary of her intentions.

It certainly surprised him when all three of his best friends immediately struck a friendship with her, particularly Gareth who had a reputation of not knowing how to talk to girls in the first place. Still, in just a few short weeks, Dottie’d become a permanent fixture within their friend group and Jeff had no reasons to contradict them when the girl who sat next to him during World History lessons often smiled at him like a timid puppy asking for her new owner to play with her. If she was willing to put in the work to call him a friend, he would oblige and do the same, and that was exactly what he had done all those months ago.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, nodding a couple of times while he gathered courage. “It’s just- I, uh, I have a lot of marks on my legs. And I don’t like when people stare at them. It feels like they’re judging me.”

“Marks like scars or…?”

“Like stretch marks. I have them on the backs of my knees and on my hips. They’re… they’re kinda a lot. My Mom used to rub this oil on me to make them smaller but I don’t think it did anything to be honest.”

“I get it,” Dottie smiled. “I have them too, y’know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” she said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I have them on my butt and my hips. Here, look-” she moved her leg to the side and pulled the cuff of her jean shorts higher, letting him see the web of silvery scars climbing on the side of her leg.

“Wow.”

“I used to hate undressing in the locker room because none of my friends had them and I thought they were ugly, and then my Auntie Rachel said I should think of them like a badge of honor. Like you survived puberty and now you have all these battle scars to show for it, right?” she said, and Jeff snorted. “I know. It sounds so stupid, but it did make me feel better about them so… Dunno. It hurt like hell to get them so maybe she’s got a point.”

“God, yes. Some nights it felt like someone was trying to shatter my fucking kneecaps from the inside,” he laughed, happy to commiserate with a friend.

“Dude, I was terrified! No one told me growth spurts felt like being tied to those goddamn medieval beds that stretch your limbs until they snap, I thought I was dying,” she said. “It was the worst, honestly. I’m happy I stayed kinda short because that shit was painful.”

“Do all of yours look white?” Jeff asked, curious.

“Now they do but they used to look pink and a bit swollen, like when a cat scratches you on the leg, y’know? But they turned white after a while, so I guess that means they’ve healed. Yours don’t look like that?”

“Not really, no. I could show you if you want.”

Dottie was aware that Jeff was trusting her with something very important with his offering. Not wanting to spook him off while he was being so vulnerable with her, she nodded eagerly and waited for him to push his jeans down until they touched the soft grass under his feet. He bent down to grab them and fold them carefully while she looked at his legs with an interested expression, but not a malicious one.

“I actually didn’t know stretch marks could look like that,” she said, embarrassed.

“I didn’t know either until I got them,” he said, hands twitching nervously at his sides. “It’s probably because my skin is darker than yours.”

Jeff stood in that clearing in the blue checkered boxers his Mom had bought for him, and felt the breeze calm his heated skin. The backs of his knees were damp with sweat, and Dottie could see them painted with both cream and very dark brown scars at the point where his calf joined the back of his thigh. The intricate webbing stopped after a few inches, and then resumed at his hips, hidden by the breathable fabric, but traces of it could be seen near the elastic at the top. Jeff’s lower body had stretched and stretched, making him as tall as his brother and as slender as his mother, and the signs were displayed for the world to see for what was probably the first time since he’d gotten them.

Wordlessly, Dottie’s hands went to the top of her shorts and undid her belt, zipper falling open afterwards as her legs kicked the jean fabric aside. Jeff’s eyes roamed the patches of skin she’d mentioned before, observing silvery threads in similar patterns to his own as they climbed the sides of her upper thighs, her high-cut cotton panties not helping to conceal them unlike his choice of underwear. They smiled at each other and it was suddenly very clear to both of them that there was nothing to fear here; there was not an ounce of shame or embarrassment to behold in that clearing.

“So… do you wanna get in now?” Jeff asked, pulling bravery out of thin air.

“I… Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it if you do it,” she grinned at him, conspiratorially.

“Okay, let’s- let’s just go for it!”

With the sort of giddiness that comes from overcoming a personal hurdle, the two teens finished undressing and walked side by side to the little dock where they sat down until they both felt comfortable enough in their own skin to jump into the water together. Jeff hadn’t known what to expect when he’d first met Dottie, but he was infinitely glad he took the chance to get to know her, thankful that his friends had had much better foresight about her than he did upon their first encounter.

Eddie wanted to drown himself. Was that a dramatic reaction to the situation at hand? Most likely, yes, but he’d never been known to be a level-headed guy in the first place so he couldn’t really be blamed for it. Not only had his plans to share a romantic afternoon with his girl been thwarted by their friends poking their noses where they didn’t belong, but also the first time Eddie was seeing Dottie in her underwear was at the same time everyone was seeing her in her underwear, and quite frankly, he didn’t care for it one bit.

It wasn’t that Eddie was jealous - that ship had sailed a long time ago and sunk to the bottom of the ocean more and more every time she told him she loved him - but he did feel like he had been cheated out of a very important First in their relationship. He’d imagined the moment very differently, and he was very much upset that he could only allow himself glimpses of her so as not to seem like a creep while she sat on the dock with Jeff, their calves shoved into the water as they chatted amicably. Still, while his friends were distracted, he felt like he could allow himself a few moments to take in the little things that he could observe about her and catalog them in his own brain under the Think About Later, Preferably While I’m Alone And In The Shower label.

If the magazines hidden underneath his bed were supposed to capture the hottest people on Earth, then Dottie was, in his eyes, a goddess living amongst common folk. Upon seeing her lounging by the water, he was reminded of that one time in Art class when their teacher had given them a presentation about statues in Ancient Greece - something about why so many of them didn’t have arms, and how beauty standards had changed throughout the years. Eddie hadn’t really cared for it at the time, but staring at the soft pudge protruding from her stomach and the thick thighs that molded themselves to the wood under them, he felt like if he were to carve Aphrodite herself in stone, she would have looked like one Dorothy Burke.

Every single detail about her was overwhelming to him. The myriad of moles that littered her body, the way the hairs on her arms stood to attention when she pulled her legs out of the cold water and the breeze hit them just right, the liquid silver that marred the skin on her hips. Her toes painted bright pink, her cute chuckles at whatever Jeff was saying, her hair moving in the wind as she stood at the dock gathering courage to jump in, the unassuming set of matching bra and panties she’d chosen to wear that day: cotton, little soft pink flowers dotting the fabric and two tiny non-functional baby pink bows, one sewn between her breasts and one underneath her belly button. He felt like a pervert ogling her and a worshiper at her altar at the same time, and he had to stop looking at her and chill the fuck out before anyone noticed that he would have gone to war, written poetry, and gladly died for her if she asked him to do so right that second.

“Eddie!” Gareth called, startling him out of his thoughts. Jeff and Dottie had already jumped into the lake and joined the fun. “You in for chicken? Dot’s gonna be the referee.”

“Hell yeah, man! Same teams as usual?” Eddie replied, doing what he did best when caught daydreaming: pretend he hadn’t been daydreaming.

“You’re going down, bitch!” Donny yelled before lowering himself underwater so Gareth could climb on his shoulders.

“Hey Ed, do you mind if I go on top this time?” Jeff asked, surprising Eddie.

A long time ago, the eldest Vitale sister, Isabella, had heard the boys gossip about Jeff and didn’t like what she’d eavesdropped on one bit. They’d been sitting in the living room at Donny’s house, putting away the pieces of the board game they had been playing on a rainy afternoon when the topic of Jeff and his pants had come up. The boy hadn’t been present for the conversation; his Mom had picked him up a few minutes earlier, and so his friends had felt like it was safe to speculate on why he was so hellbent on not wearing the mandatory shorts everyone else wore during gym class. Isabella heard them mention his newly acquired stretch marks and dismiss it as the issue at hand rather quickly, moving on to juicier theories like secret tattoos or acne in weird places. She’d shut them down in an instant.

From that day on and thanks to a long stream of yelling coming from Isabella, the boys understood that Jeff was sensitive about showing his bare legs to the world, and that if they really considered him a friend, they’d stop making a note of it every time he chose joggers over shorts and covered himself with a big towel after getting out of the pool. So in that moment, while Jeff seemed to not care that his scars were on display for everyone to scrutinize, Eddie resolved to immediately shove his head underwater and help him onto his shoulders, happy to prove to him that he’d been wrong all along when hiding himself around their friend group.

The little corner of Lover’s Lake that the Hellfire teens had chosen as their spot for the afternoon had never seen a battle the likes of The Great Chicken Fight of ‘86. Both teams fought fiercely, sometimes winning, sometimes choking on a bit of lake water, but after several rounds Donny and Eddie asked for a break to let their shoulders rest, and Team Donny and Gareth was officially crowned as the champion for the day.

At around five, every cloud in the sky was officially gone and the temperature had started to drop so everyone agreed it was time to get out of the lake and enjoy the sun before it went down behind the trees. Eddie offered Donny and Gareth to share a joint as their prize, and they gladly accepted it, all three of them grabbing a couple of beers each and sitting on the dock to smoke and get pleasantly buzzed. Not interested in partaking, Jeff and Dottie chose to go back to the blanket near the van where they sat down and drank their beers while he plucked some tunes out of his friend’s acoustic guitar.

“That sounds gorgeous,” Dottie told him sincerely, lying on her front on the blanket, head resting on her crossed arms and legs swinging behind her.

“My Mom loves this song,” Jeff said, playing the intro of Ain’t No Sunshine by Bill Withers once more.

“I’ve never heard of it before,” she admitted. “Can you sing it for me?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he smiled, always happy to spread his love of music around.

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, Jeff crooned, his tone raspier than usual and carrying over to where the guys were sitting at the dock. It’s not warm when she’s away, ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, and she’s always gone too long, anytime she goes away. Dottie stared at her friend in awe of his raw gift. All the Corroded Coffin members were talented, she knew that very well, but Jeff had always been the most shy in demonstrating it outside of Gareth’s garage and the relative anonymity of The Hideout, perhaps due to his father’s silent disapproval of his son’s artistic inclination.

And I know, I know, I know, I know… After observing countless practices and a couple of their weekly gigs, Dottie was fairly confident that while Eddie was the most talented guitar player out of the two, Jeff had the best voice in the band by far. As he sang about longing for someone who leaves often, she couldn’t help but think of themselves, about how summer was ticking by fast and one day, they’d all have to say goodbye to each other for a while like they had done with Dustin the previous weekend. And this house just ain’t no home, anytime she goes away.

“That was… wow,” she shook her head in disbelief once he had finished his rendition. “Bill Withers you said?”

“Mhm. He’s from West Virginia, you know? My Granddad is always talking about him,” Jeff said, going back to playing basic chord progressions while he explained.

“Maybe you’ll get to meet him while you’re there.”

“I doubt it, he’s probably like a gazillionaire by now. He totally lives in LA.”

“Never too late to ask for a transfer,” she joked, and he scoffed like he was offended at the suggestion.

“This sucks, man,” he sighed, putting the guitar aside and dropping onto the blanket next to her, elbows bumping. “All this time I’ve been looking for any excuses to leave this shithole and now that I have them, I don’t wanna go.”

“It’s just four years. We’ll blink and be back here before we know it. And there’s the holidays too, we have to come see family and stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess. Unless we get real jobs and then we won’t be able to come back.”

“Yeah, maybe. Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered.

“Of course.”

“I’m super scared that when we leave you guys will forget about me,” she said, turning around to lay on her back. “Like I’m gonna come back to Hawkins for Christmas break and it’ll be like I never existed.”

“You’re insane,” Jeff shook his head. “There’s no way we’d forget about you. Especially Eddie.”

“W-what do you mean?” Dottie said, hand draped over her eyes to hide her expression.

“Okay, so I know I’m not like an expert on this,” he began. “-but I think Eddie really likes you. As in, more than friends.”

“Oh,” she replied, trying very hard not to laugh. “That’s… I don’t know what to say. You really think so?”

“I’ve never seen him act like this before. It’s like someone brainwashed him, but in a good way? Dunno. He seems happier when you’re around. I think we all are, actually.”

“Aw, Jeffie,” she cooed, sitting up and pulling him into a one-armed hug, ignoring the fact that none of them had bothered to put their clothes back on after getting out of the water. “I’m really happy with you guys too, senior year would have completely sucked if I hadn’t met you. I think that’s what scares me the most, because I told you about my friends in New York and how they used to forget about me during summer and I just- I don’t want things to change, y’know? I’m happy like this!”

“Nothing’s going to change, Dot,” he said, sitting up too. “Well, I mean, everything is going to change when we go off to college, but that doesn’t mean we have to change. We’ll all still be friends… and maybe you and Eddie can be more than friends,” she shoved him and he laughed. “But we’ll keep in touch. We’ll send postcards, and letters, and we can call each other, you’ll see.”

“Promise me,” Dottie said, lifting her pinky finger. “Promise me we’ll still be best friends even when I’m in Michigan and you’re in West Virginia.”

“The better Virginia,” he said dramatically, linking his pinky with hers.

“The best Virginia, but only when you’re in it.”

“Why are you buttering me up so much? What terrible song do you want me to play next?” he narrowed his eyes, but they both knew he would always gladly play anything his friends asked for.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

Jeff picked up the guitar again before she could finish her sentence and launched into a sped up version of Back in the U.S.S.R by The Beatles, making Dottie dissolve into giggles as he faked a terrible British accent. Eddie watched from the dock, his bare back resting on old wood while Gareth and Donny talked next to him. He couldn’t even be mad at the fact that Jeff was fulfilling his fantasy; he was enjoying the tunes too and the view of his girlfriend lounging on the grass in her undies was enough to keep him content for the moment.

“Might wanna be less obvious with the staring, bud,” Donny said, bringing him back to the present instead of fixating on how she pushed her bra strap back onto her shoulder when it moved out of place.

“Fuck off,” Eddie scoffed. “I wasn’t staring. I was zoning out.”

“Sure you were,” Gareth said, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Donny. “That why you planned this cute little date? So you could zone out?”

“Cute little date? You mean the chill hangout you were both invited to?” Eddie said.

“You brought the dragon slayer guitar, man. This was not a casual hangout and you know it.”

“It was already in my van, I didn’t do shit.”

“Yeah, right. What about the Kool-Aid then? Her favorite flavor? Come on, Ed, we know you’re into her,” Donny said plainly. “Why are you so scared of asking her out?”

“I’m not!”

“Then why haven’t you already?!”

“I have!” he said, exasperation making him slip up.

“You have?!” Both Gareth and Donny stared at him, confused.

“I- I mean… No, I- I was gonna ask her today. And then you assholes ruined it,” Eddie deflected, making them feel bad about it to cover up his mistake. “I love you both, but you’re nosy as hell. I’m not telling you shit about anything anymore.”

“Okay, that’s so fuckin’ rude,” Gareth said, exaggerating being upset for drama. “We’re rooting for you two, jackass, you don’t gotta treat us like the enemy. We can help you if you want!”

“Nope, I don’t need any help, thank you. I’m doing pretty okay without you.”

“Really? Because from where we’re sitting, Jeff is the one having the date you planned with your girl. You might wanna hurry up and make your move before he swoops in.”

“First, don’t use Jeff of all people to try and make me jealous. That’s lame and you know that, we’re all friends here,” Eddie scolded Gareth, making him raise his hands to concede. “Second, I have nothing to worry about.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

Eddie was about to answer when a damp haired Dottie approached them, Eddie’s black sleeveless shirt that he had cut himself hanging from her fingers. She stopped right in front of them, beaming down at her boyfriend with cheeks tainted red from the sun.

“What’s up, princess?” he smirked, knowing that his friends were watching the interaction curiously.

“Can I pretty-please borrow your shirt for a bit? I’m cold but I don’t wanna put my shorts on, I don’t wanna get them wet,” she pouted at him, as if she thought he’d ever say no to her.

“Yeah, of course. There’s a flannel somewhere in the back of the van if you want that one.”

“No, this one’s okay!” Dottie said, lifting the shirt and putting her head through it. “Thank you!”

She hopped away and back towards Jeff while she pulled her arms through the big holes at the sides, the black fabric falling down her back until it covered the delicate flower pattern on her panties. Eddie took a sip of his beer can and turned to look at the boys; Donny was holding in a chuckle and Gareth was staring at him in disbelief.

“You were asking?” Eddie said, smug.

“I… Shut the fuck up,” Gareth shook his head.

“You two are gonna be so gross when you actually start dating,” Donny said, thoroughly entertained.

“Maybe. Or maybe we’re already dating and we just haven’t told you,” Eddie said, mysteriously.

“Yeah, right. You’re like the most transparent person on Earth, Ed,” Gareth said.

“And she’s the worst liar ever,” Donny added, making Eddie snort.

What they don’t know can’t hurt them, Eddie thought as they switched topics and he took another glance at his girlfriend in the distance. She was looking right back at him with a smitten smile on her face, so he winked at her once, watching how she turned bashful and looked away from him. He wasn’t trying to be mean to their friends but when he had said sneaking around could be fun, he didn’t know how absolutely right he would be, and Eddie was determined to make the most of it before they had to come clean when summer drew to a close.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Are you asking me out? Should I be worried about the guys tagging along again?”

“Ha, ha, you’re so funny. Answer the question.”

Eddie and Dottie were waiting for a red light to change back to green on the way to her home after having dropped everyone else off. When the sun started to disappear behind the treeline, the Hellfire Class of ‘86 very reluctantly decided it was time to return to society where wearing clothes was expected of them. Eddie had mourned in silence the fact that Dottie wasn’t wearing his shirt anymore, but considering it had been warm when she gave it back to him, he felt like a small mercy had been afforded to him in his time of suffering. The temperature was falling fast as the daylight said goodbye to Hawkins for the night, making Dottie burrow further into the co-pilot seat as she turned to the side to look at the metalhead.

“Well, I was thinking I really need a shower before I do anything else because I am covered in lake water and I feel sticky and gross. And- I don’t know, maybe watch a movie before bed? You? Got any plans?”

“Not yet,” Eddie said, changing gears before he let his hand find hers, interlacing their fingers. “Was kinda hoping you could help me out with that.”

“Oh, so you are asking me out,” Dottie smiled.

“Well, since our super romantic date turned into you having to see all our hairy asses, I thought it’d be nice to make it up to you,” he shot her a quick smile before turning his eyes back onto the road. “Wanna pick up a pizza and have dinner with me and Wayne? We can get a movie too, and you can stay over if you want. He won’t mind.”

“I don’t know, Ed,” she sighed, her thumb drawing patterns on the back of his hand. “I want to, I really do, but staying the night is… Don’t know if I can get away with that.”

“Don’t wanna keep lying to your Dad, huh?”

“No, well… I don’t actually mind the lying. He’d kinda freak out if he knew, I think. And he’d sit me down to have the most awkward talk in the world and like, I’m sorry, I know he’d mean well but he’s late on that by like four years. Mrs. Maybelle beat him to it and she did a damn good job.”

“Health teacher?”

“Mhm. She was so cool. I think she single-handedly lowered the teen pregnancy statistics in my school.”

“Wow. Go Mrs. Maybelle,” he chuckled. “It’s okay though, we’ll see each other tomorrow. Or you can still come over only for dinner, I know Wayne misses you.”

“He does?” she bit her lip as she smiled, warmth spreading inside her chest.

“Pfft, are you kidding? He likes you more than he likes me. Asks me about you all the time,” Eddie said, a tinge of pride in his voice, like he loved the fact that his Uncle and his girlfriend got along so well.

Dottie stared at their intertwined hands as she mulled over his words, only snapping out of it when he moved to switch gears again without letting her fingers go. The van slowly came to a stop on her driveway, the soft murmur of the engine filling the quiet of the summer night. He turned to look at her with curiosity when she made no moves to get out; she was burning a hole on her front door with nervous eyes, thumb on her free hand lodged between her lips as she bit down on her nail gently.

“I’m gonna take a shower first,” she muttered. “Then we can go. And we have to tell my Dad everyone is staying over at yours too.”

“Okay,” he said, the side of his mouth coming up in an amused smile. “Anything else?”

“For dinner, can we get something that isn’t pizza? I’ve been having Italian all week, Donny’s family keeps feeding me everything on the menu so I can recommend it to the customers. I think I’ll die if I eat any more dough this week.”

“Of course,” he chuckled at her dramatics. “KFC okay? Wayne loves a drumstick.”

“KFC sounds great actually.”

Finally turning off the van and heading inside, the pair put some distance between them to seem casual in front of James, who sat on the couch half asleep with a crossword puzzle in his hand and the TV tuned in to some random game show he wasn’t really watching. He took his glasses off and brushed a hand over his face tiredly, opening his arms so Dottie could beeline in his direction and give him a big hug.

“Hey honey, where have you been?” James said, voice gruff after a very long week.

“We went to the lake,” she said, perching on the armrest next to him, Eddie taking a seat in the armchair near them. “It was too hot to do anything else today. How was work?”

“Tiring. S’that why you smell like a swamp? Because you got in the lake?”

“Dad! You’re so mean, I do not smell like a swamp.”

“You kinda do,” Eddie said, giving her a toothy smile.

“You’re not supposed to gang up on me, you got into the lake too,” she stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed in response. “If it’s so bad I’m gonna go take a shower and you two can finally be free from my ogre smell.”

“Are you two hanging out here tonight?” James asked, hand holding onto his daughter’s wrist for a second before she could leave. “What do you want for dinner?”

“We’re going back to Eddie’s for movie night. Everyone went home to shower first,” Dottie lied.

“Oh, okay. You’re staying over or you need me to pick you up later?”

“I think we’re staying but if not, Donny can drive me back, don’t worry about it. We’re supposed to go to the theater tomorrow anyway, Jeff was saying something about Gene Simmons being in a movie? Dunno. I’m pretty excited about the aircon though.”

“Of course you are,” her Dad laughed, finally letting her arm go. “Go back to the Black Lagoon now, shoo.”

“Dad, stop it!”

Dottie had long ago stopped worrying about the kinds of conversation her Dad and Eddie got up to while she wasn’t around as they often revolved around three distinct subjects: nerd stuff, cars, and whatever interesting thing had happened recently. That day’s talk seemed to be about a high end car that had come into Thatcher’s shop in the morning, and as both men marveled at its engineering like they were kids at Christmas, Dottie headed upstairs to the bathroom to rid herself of her dirty clothes and the sticky lake residue on her skin.

The water coming out of the showerhead pinged off the tiles softly, the echoey nature of the room lulling her into a sense of peace and comfort as she slowly undressed and stepped into the empty tub. Dottie took her time relaxing after a long week of intense training at her new job, gentle fingertips working her ginger and mint scented shampoo on her scalp. Her sun-kissed skin felt like it was sizzling under the warm water, more cold than hot to ease the tightness under the red patches. She turned off the water after rinsing all the soap off, wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel and padded her way to her bedroom to finish getting ready for the night.

While she dried herself and applied moisturizer to her shoulders, cheeks and bridge of her nose to avoid her skin peeling off, Dottie stared at her wardrobe with a million questions on her tongue. It was easy enough to put together an outfit for the casual date night - any t-shirt and pair of shorts would suffice for dinner with Eddie and Wayne. It was, however, the rest of her clothes that worried her, from which set of pjs would be appropriate for the eldest Munson to see her in when they inevitably shared breakfast together the following morning yet still cute enough to wear while cuddling up under a blanket with Eddie while they watched a movie, down to, most importantly, her undergarments.

Dottie, while having very limited experience, was no stranger to what sort of things couples would get up to when they had an empty house to themselves. Standing next to her dresser with her underwear drawer open, she weighed all options in her mind. Would Eddie mind that she didn’t own anything like she’d seen on the girls in the magazines under his bed? Would he care about what she wore at all? Was he even interested in taking the next big step with her? It had certainly seemed so on Thursday, but he had backed off completely afterwards leaving Dottie to overthink their interactions until she had finally fallen asleep.

Truth be told, if she really had to consider it, was she ready? She felt comfortable with him, yes, she definitely felt safe, but did that mean anything had to happen that specific night? Eddie had seen her in a completely normal set of underwear all day and hadn’t said a thing. He hadn’t even kissed her. He’d held her hand in the van after everyone left, and he’d been as affectionate and friendly as ever, but aside from that… was he put off now that he knew what she looked like under her clothes?

No. Stop it, Dottie told herself before she could go down a dangerous spiral. He didn’t say anything good but also he didn’t say anything bad. He was probably just embarrassed to say something with everyone around, that’s all. He’ll totally mention it tonight, that’s why he wants you to come over. With a confidence that was more performative than real, she chose a simple white cotton set that felt cute but was also comfortable enough to sleep in, grabbed her favorite pajamas and quickly put an overnight bag together before climbing down the stairs before she could regret her choices. In the living room, Eddie and James were still talking about the fancy car.

“You ready?” Eddie got up when she approached them. “I’ll drop you off at Family Video while I pick up the chicken.”

“Okay. Any suggestions?”

“You pick,” he smiled at her. “But get the two movie deal with the popcorn, I’ll get you gummy bears at the station.”

“Got it,” Dottie turned to her Dad. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, is that okay?”

“Go have fun,” James enveloped her in a hug. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” he kissed her forehead and let her go to shake Eddie’s hand goodbye. “You two be safe, alright? Say hi to Wayne from me.”

“Will do, sir. Have a good night,” Eddie said, wondering not for the first time if James knew more than he let on.

Dottie walked into Family Video with a simple mission: she had to find two movies that both her and Eddie could enjoy together. They both liked fantasy and sci-fi, but a lore-heavy or emotionally compelling movie didn’t feel like the right choice for a night where everything was meant to change between them, and certainly horror was out of the picture if she wanted to get a wink of sleep for the following week. Something lighthearted and fun like Ghostbusters or Beverly Hills Cop seemed like the perfect choice in her mind, and she knew just the person to ask for help in her quest.

The smell of plastic and air freshener filled the air as she surveyed the store for that familiar head of hair she’d come to be really fond of, but when she finally found it, her plans were immediately thrown off the table. Robin Buckley stood in the children’s movie aisle looking very overwhelmed while being surrounded by three little kids and their sweet grandma, who was trying to pick a movie for them. The kids kept showing different tapes to her, and the old lady insisted Robin explain the gist of each of them so she could decide which one was more appropriate for her grandchildren to watch. By the looks of it, this had been going on for several minutes before Dottie’s arrival judging by how disheveled Robin’s vest was getting as the kids tugged on it trying to catch her attention and offer yet another tape as a new contender.

“Hi, welcome to Family Video! How can I help you?” a man’s voice beckoned Dottie further into the store, only to find herself face to face with one Steve Harrington.

“Oh hey, nice to see you again!” she said honestly, watching how the friendly looking boy lit up at her acknowledgement of him.

“Yeah, nice to see you too! Congrats on graduation, by the way,” Steve said, leaning onto the counter.

“Thank you!”

“So, what can I help you with? Unless you’re here for Robin.”

“Oh, no, it’s- well, actually I did want her help but I guess if you two are friends that means you must have good taste too, right?”

“That was kinda a backhanded compliment but I’ll take it anyway,” Steve joked. “What were you looking for? I’m not an expert like Rob, but I’ve seen some cool stuff since I got this job.”

“I was looking for something light? Like… I don’t know, something like Back to the Future maybe?” Dottie mused, following him to one of the aisles at the front of the store.

“You’re in luck because I did see that one. Instant classic. I don’t get why Alex P. Keaton was trying to bang his Mom though, what was up with that?” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, making her chuckle.

“He wasn’t, she was trying to bang him,” she said, and Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “She didn’t know he was her son. Are you sure you’ve seen it?”

“Of course I did,” he scoffed. “I saw it with Robin - hey, Rob!”

“Steve, I’m a little busy here,” Robin raised her voice from her side of the store, throwing daggers at him with her eyes.

“Just answer this for me please: did I see Back to the Future with you or not?”

“Yeah, why-”

“Thank you!” Steve triumphantly turned back to Dottie who was watching the entire interaction with an amused expression on her face. “What did I tell you? I saw it!”

“Okay, I believe you,” she laughed. “Can you help me find something similar to that since you’re Michael J. Fox’s biggest fan?”

“Who’s that?” he asked, back turned as he browsed the shelves in search of a VHS he knew he had stocked earlier in the week. “Aha! Here it is, Teen Wolf. I saw it on a date like a month ago, I think you’d like it.”

“Yeah? How did that date turn out for you?”

“Really bad, but the movie was great,” he tapped on the plastic cover. “Big recommend.”

“You’ve convinced me, I’ll take it. Oh, and this one too, please,” Dottie said, walking to the next aisle and picking up another VHS she’d had her eyes on for a while.

“Clue? Like the board game?”

“Exactly! I haven’t seen it yet, but Tim Curry is in it so it must be good.”

“Who’s Tim Curry again?”

“Did you ever end up seeing Rocky Horror?” he nodded so she continued. “He plays Dr. Frank-N-Furter, you know, the guy in the corset?”

“Ah, yes! Yeah, I remember him. It was, uhm, it was a really interesting movie! The music was very catchy,” Steve said, walking over to the counter to ring her up while he scratched his neck nervously. “You know, I’ve been talking with Robin about going to see some shows in Indy, she knows some cool spots and- and they might be showing stuff like Rocky Horror too! I mean, they seem like the kinda places that would show movies like that. You could come with us if you’d like, I know Rob would love that.”

Steve Harrington’s new self-appointed life purpose after striking out on so many dates for the past year, was to be Robin Buckley’s wingman. He was no longer interested in pursuing flings that always led to him on his own couch with his head on Robin’s lap and her hands on his hair while they watched some weird avant-garde movie she’d picked for the day. He was, quite frankly, tired of trying so hard for nothing, and he’d told her as much when he took her out for dinner on her graduation day.

In a so-sad-it’s-almost-comical turn of events, Steve’s big declaration had been forgotten rather quickly when Robin turned her head to call the waitress over and spotted Vickie, fellow band geek and current crush, making out with her college boyfriend, both of them tucked into one of the booths at the back of the restaurant. Steve tried to pick up the pieces of his best friend’s broken heart that night, her head on his lap on the floor of his bathroom for a change, but he simply hadn’t known how to make everything better at the time.

And so, it was during the next morning as he watched Robin snoozing in what was quickly becoming her side on his bed, her reddish-brown hair spilling over his fluffiest pillow, that he decided the only solution was to find Robin a new object of desire, one that would be emotionally available to reciprocate her feelings without fear of becoming the town pariah. In that scenario, who could be better than the short curly haired girl that already looked to be fond of his best friend, was seemingly unafraid of judgment since she already was friends with the freaks, and was about to move to a bigger city where small town sensibilities couldn’t reach either of them?

It was a flawless plan if you asked him. There was only one little problem in it, but Steve couldn’t be blamed for that - he didn’t have all relevant information yet.

“I’d love to go with you guys too!” Dottie said, excited at the prospect of new friends and fun adventures. “I’ve only been to Indy once so I don’t really know any cool places there or anything.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Steve laughed. “Rob’s been a few times with the school’s band though. They get around, did you know that?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she chuckled, grabbing a few bills from her front pocket. “I have two questions. One, can I get the two movies and popcorn deal? And two, would it be okay if I invited a friend to join us on our big city adventures?”

“One, sweet or salty? Two, that depends,” he said mysteriously, moving over to the snacks display next to the cash register.

“Sweet, please,” she instructed. “Depends on what?”

“I don’t know, is your friend cute?”

“I think so, but I don’t really know your type,” Dottie said, glancing to the side as the front door opened and Eddie walked in, a big grin on his face. “Speak of the devil.”

“Harrington,” Eddie said, sliding next to her and bumping her shoulder like he wasn’t dying to throw an arm around his girlfriend.

“Munson,” Steve greeted him. “Wait, did you- is he the friend you were talking about?”

“You were talking about me with King Steve, princess?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, amused.

“Steve was inviting me to join some cool plans he has with Robin and I thought you might want to come too,” Dottie explained. “I think Dustin would be really happy if you two hung out. He looks up to you both so much.”

“He, uh… Henderson talks about me?” Steve said, surprised.

“Yeah, man, kid worships you,” Eddie scoffed.

“I asked him about you when I saw you at our graduation,” Dottie said, making both boys turn towards her. “He said you were his babysitter, but he thought of you as his older brother.”

“He did? That little shit,” Steve muttered, biting back a self-satisfied smile.

“Gotta talk Claudia into giving him a sibling, that kid’s lonely as hell,” Eddie joked, but his girlfriend didn’t seem to like it very much.

“You’re an only child, if anyone understands what that’s like, it should be you.”

“You’re an only child too,” he noted.

“We should make a club,” Steve said, bringing Dottie’s attention back to him while he put the bag of microwave popcorn and the movies she’d picked in a bag. “I’m also an only child.”

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t say hi earlier!” Robin interrupted their talk, dumping a bunch of VHS cases onto the counter. “Ring all of these up before she changes her mind,” she whispered to Steve, making all three teens snort.

“No worries, you looked pretty busy,” Dottie said, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so nice to see you, we’re kinda neighbors now!”

“Yeah- wait, what?”

“I got a summer job over at Giulia’s! Wanted to come say hi earlier in the week but they keep me on a leash while I’m getting trained.”

“No way!” Robin smiled. “Steve and I love their meatball sandwich!”

“No, you love their meatball sandwich.”

“You always eat the other half, why don’t you get something else if you don’t like it?”

“Because you hate the mortadella sandwich I like so I always let you get the one you want,” he deadpanned, while he finished scanning the stack of movies in front of him.

“Isn’t mortadella horse meat?” Eddie asked.

“No, it’s pork,” Dottie replied, well acquainted with the sandwich menu by then.

“Whatever it is, it’s disgusting,” Robin said, grabbing the bag Steve was offering to her and heading to where the older lady waited while she read the back cover for Cocoon. “Duty calls, have a good night you two.”

“Thanks, Buckley!” Eddie called, but she had already slipped her customer service smile back on to answer more of the old grandma’s questions.

“Well, you guys are done,” Steve said, bracing himself on the counter. “Unless you need anything else?”

“Nope, we’re good, Harrington, thanks,” the metalhead said, arm finally curling around his girlfriend’s waist and pulling her towards the front doors.

“Bye, Steve, see you around!” she said, waving at him over her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I’ll drop by next week so we can make plans!” he replied, not letting her forget about his invite.

“Please do! Bye, Robin!” was the last thing Dottie could say before the door closed behind her.

Steve rested his head on his hand as he watched Robin wrap up with the older lady and her rambunctious grandchildren, herding all of them towards the exit lest they asked any more questions or shoved a new tape into her hands. As soon as they were gone, she walked back where he was standing and dropped her entire body weight onto the counter; Steve patted her hair as if to say “there, there”.

“So…,” he began.

“So?” Robin replied, voice muffled by her own arms.

“Am I a great wingman or what?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked Dorothy to come with us to Indianapolis. Thought she’d be into it. She said yes, by the way, you’re welcome.”

“You did what?! Steve, I’m not- if people knew-,” she began panicking.

No one in Hawkins could know about her best kept secret, which was exactly why Steve had offered to go with her to queer friendly spots in the big city of Indianapolis and act as her alibi should anyone ask. If anyone knew, if anyone found out, if Dottie wasn’t as cool with things like Robin was 99.9% sure she was… Well, it was safe to assume that Robin would be grabbing the bag hidden at the bottom of Steve’s closet and disappearing into the night, probably taking said boy with her.

“You said she was, y’know, like you! She likes Rocky Horror as much as you do, that has to mean something! And this is a perfect chance for you to get over stupid Vickie and her ugly boyfriend, come on, Rob.”

“You can’t just- ugh! You’re such a dingus!” Robin covered her face with her ringed fingers.

“What, what did I do? She seemed really excited about it when I asked!” Steve defended himself, hands on his hips. “She wanted to know if Munson could come too but he’s a freak, he’s probably into it anyway. I’ll distract him, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh my god, you’re just- she’s dating Munson, you idiot!” she said, exasperated.

“What? No, no way! She totally likes girls, you said so yourself.”

“People can like two things at the same time, Steve,” Robin explained in a deadpan tone.

“...They can?” Steve frowned, looking extremely confused as his friend loudly groaned and let her head drop back onto the counter, bracing herself for a long end of shift at Family Video.

Summer nights at the Munson trailer had never really been Eddie’s favorite (mainly due to the lack of air conditioning), but chilling on the couch after dinner with his pedestal fan turned on to its max speed, a funny movie playing on the TV, and his girlfriend tucked into his side, he had to admit he had reached a level of relaxation he didn’t entirely know was possible before that moment.

Wayne was sitting at the kitchen table while he laced his boots - the last step in his routine to get ready for work - and Eddie thought that the only thing that could make the night better was for his Uncle to not have to leave at all. Reluctantly, he contented himself with the knowledge that Wayne had decided to not attend his usual Friday-before-work union meeting to have dinner with them, the KFC bucket they’d all shared now crushed at the bottom of their trash can. The dishes were washed, Eddie had already showered, and Dottie had changed into her pajamas by the time Wayne finally said goodbye to the teens, warning them to behave and not piss off any neighbors with loud music like his nephew was known to do, especially on weekend nights.

Everything felt peaceful, perfectly cozy and comforting after a long week filled with new jobs and snappy customers. The sounds of Teen Wolf filled the air, the constant whirring of the fan and the cool breeze on his skin were lulling him into a dreamlike state. As the movie progressed and Dottie sank more and more into the couch cushions, his heavy arm draped around her shoulders, Eddie pulled her legs onto his lap where he drew patterns on her skin with his fingertips, brain completely turned off as he watched Michael J. Fox prance around a basketball court with fake fur all over his body. Had he been less comatose from the amount of fried chicken and mashed potatoes he’d consumed at dinnertime, maybe he’d have noticed sooner that his girlfriend was not enjoying the quiet moment as much as he was.

Dottie simply could not focus on the movie playing in front of them, head busy nervously anticipating the moment when Eddie would finally make a move on her. And yet, as the minutes ticked on and he looked exponentially engrossed in the story unfolding on his TV, it was looking very unlikely that he would try to do anything about the fact that they were going to be completely alone for the next ten hours. What’s happening? Did I scare him off? She felt like prey waiting for her predator to pounce, except he didn’t seem too concerned in chasing her in the first place. Eddie’s perfectly innocent behavior set all her alarms off - there was danger in the unknown, and Dottie didn’t like not knowing what to expect.

“You want another one?” Eddie’s voice startled her.

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna get another Coke, you want one too?” he shook the empty can in his hand to illustrate his point.

“Oh, no, thank you. Mine’s still pretty full,” she replied, pointing to her barely touched can on his coffee table next to her yet unopened bag of gummy bears.

“Be right back,” he muttered, pressing a noisy kiss to her hairline as he moved her legs from his lap back onto the couch and jogged towards his fridge.

They were more than half an hour into the movie and Dottie painfully realized that by this time, Tyler would have already had her topless on his bed. Back then, there had been many times where she had wanted to continue watching their chosen film instead of doing, well, that, but she had never mentioned it to him for fear of pissing him off. That’s what girlfriends and boyfriends did when they were alone after all, wasn’t it? Jeannie and Tracey had said it was normal when she asked them about it after the first time it had happened. Would Nancy agree with them? Would Chrissy, or Robin?

Eddie padded his way back to the couch, finally noticing that something was off. Dottie wasn’t watching the TV like he thought she had been all along - no, her head was turned towards the screen’s general area but her eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular, right hand restlessly playing with her Mom’s ring on her left middle finger. She jumped when he grabbed her ankle, sitting back down next to her and pulling her legs back onto his lap.

“Hey,” he whispered, lowering his head to look into her eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” she whispered back, settling against his side like she hadn’t recoiled when he’d touched her.

“You sure? I can see your brain working overtime.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just… thinking about next week, don’t worry about it. You’re missing the movie,” she lied quickly, hoping to throw his attention off her and back onto the screen.

“Fuck the movie. What’s next week?”

“Uh, your gig?” she chuckled. “We’re going to Indy on Friday, remember? You’re supposed to be driving us there.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised. “Yeah, no, of course I remember that but you… I mean, you looked like you wanted to throw up for a sec there. What’s wrong? You don’t wanna come?”

“What?! I got you that gig, of course I wanna go!” Dottie said, like he was insane for even suggesting she didn’t wanna be there.

“I’m just asking, darling, that’s all,” he squeezed her close. “You’re like, super tense right now, what’s going on?”

“I… I have nothing to wear,” she rolled her eyes, doubling down on her lie. “It’s silly, you don’t wanna hear about it.”

“Nope, no, none of that,” he shook his head. “If I’m asking, it’s because I wanna know. Hey, why don’t you ask Nancy to go shopping with you, huh?”

“I was kinda hoping I could borrow something from you, actually.”

“Yeah? You wanna raid my closet?” he smiled, smitten.

“Can I?”

“What’s mine is yours, princess,” Eddie said, nosing her hair. “You know I love it when you wear my clothes. How about I bring some stuff over for you on Friday when I pick you up and you can do my makeup like we talked about? Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, Ed,” she smiled back, burrowing into his chest and pressing a kiss to the soft cotton. “Thank you.”

Even after she settled back next to him like nothing was wrong, Eddie knew that she had been lying. He could tell instantly, not only because he prided himself in knowing her like the back of his hand, but because he’d always found Dorothy Burke pretty easy to read. With her sitting so close next to him, he could pick up on all the little things he knew by now were signs of nervousness: the racing heart, the shallow breaths, the twitching fingers. Enough was enough, and Eddie decided that he’d confront her and get it over with, or else he’d never forgive himself for pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

“Okay, Dot, come on, this-,” he sat up, pulling her up with him. “I can feel your fucking heartbeat. I know something’s up. Just tell me what it is so we can fix it, mhm?”

Dottie had never been one to ever shy away from Eddie’s affections; if anything, she had always given as good as she got. Hugs always lasted a little bit longer than they should, kisses were pressed to places that weren’t the apples of their cheeks, and wandering hands had never been stopped before, even before they’d begun dating. It was for that same reason that her reaction to him simply asking if anything was wrong scared him half to death, because he wasn’t used to her pulling away whenever he initiated physical contact. Eddie hadn’t even finished settling into his new sitting position when she moved further away from him, knees up in front of her like she was trying to put up a wall between them.

Eddie looked at her, really, truly looked at her for the first time all evening and immediately didn’t like what he saw. Her eyes were shifty and shiny, the lips he adored so much were turned into a sad looking pout, and her arms were wrapped around her legs like she was shielding herself from him. Had he read this entire situation wrong? She’d agreed to stay the night with him, even lied to her Dad about it. Had he come across as too eager? Too needy? Had he scared her off somehow?

“Baby, what- what happened? Did I do something wrong?” Eddie asked, searching her eyes with his as she moved her head down to avoid having to look at him. “D’you wanna go home? I- I can take you, you don’t have to stay-”

“Aren’t you gonna make a move on me?” she asked, voice timid but dejected.

“Huh?”

He swore she was fucking with him. She had to be. There was just no other way, because out of any combination of words that could have come out of her mouth at that moment, that exact sentence had never once crossed his mind. Dottie finally lifted her eyes to look at him upon hearing his confused reaction; he had never seen her so nervous and unsure of anything since the day met her. Suddenly, he was reminded of that shy girl that had padded her way into the props room all those months ago, terrified and vulnerable, yet brave in ways he hadn’t considered she could be at the time. Desperate for human connection, for someone to look at her and say hey, welcome, take a seat and don’t you dare leave. He had been trying so hard to go at her pace, to not rush her or make her feel pressured. Where had he failed?

“I’m sorry, could you- shit, say that again for me, please,” he said, dumbfounded.

“Are you going to make a move on me or not, Ed? It’s a simple question,” Dottie repeated, visibly upset.

“I- I wasn’t- Did you want me to or…?”

“No! I mean, yes, I- I don’t know,” she said, hunching over her knees, shoulders coming up in self-defense. “Isn’t that why I’m here? Because you wanna have sex?”

“Fuck, I’m-”, Eddie scrunched his face and moved closer, hands finding hers and tangling their fingers together. The tightness in his chest eased when she didn’t pull them back. “Baby, no. I invited you over because I wanted to spend time with you. Do you really think I would only ask you to come over so I can get laid?”

“Well, isn’t that what couples are supposed to do when they’re alone? Have sex?”

“When they want to, yeah, of course,” he moved his hand to her chin and lifted her face gently. “But that’s not why I asked you to spend the night, babe. Look, I know I’m selfish, okay? We had fun today with the guys, but I just wanted you all to myself for a while. Wanted to watch a movie and hold you like this, that’s all. No sex involved, I swear.”

“Oh,” she said with furrowed brows, and fell quiet for a moment. The movie kept playing in the background as she spoke up again. “I’ve never really done that before.”

“You’ve never watched a movie with your boyfriend before?” he pushed a curl behind her ear.

“No, I- I’ve done that, kinda. I’ve just never been to my boyfriend’s house when he’s alone and not had sex.”

“Oh,” it was Eddie’s turn to be surprised.

“It’s just that Tyler and I - we never hung out like that after we started dating. We always went out with other friends, and if I went to his house we’d, y’know, do it. I thought you wanted us to do that too.”

“Okay, wait, hold on,” he shook his head as if that could help him clear his mind. “You only went to his house to have sex? You never, like, chilled out with him? Watched a movie, played a board game, I don’t know, anything that wasn’t sex?”

“Jeannie said that’s, like, the only reason why guys invite you over-”

“Fuck Jeannie, she’s an idiot,” he argued. “Answer my question, darling. Did you ever go to his house and not have sex?”

“I… I don’t think so? It wasn’t a big deal, we just… he said we should take advantage of the empty house since we didn’t get to spend a lot of time alone.”

“Did you even want to take advantage of the empty house?”

“I dunno. Sometimes.”

“Dot.”

“It’s not like that!” she crossed her arms and looked away, feeling judged and embarrassed. “I didn’t enjoy it very much, okay? It was just a thing we did sometimes. He wasn’t, like, forcing me! I could always leave or not go if I didn’t want to.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said in disbelief.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Dottie declared, getting up from the couch and collecting their discarded snacks from the coffee table.

“No, I really think we should,” he followed her into the kitchen.

“Why? So you can keep mocking me because I thought you wanted to have sex with me? It’s fine, Eddie, I made a mistake, I get it.”

“I’m not mocking you! I’m just trying to understand- can you please- fuckin’ hell, Dot, stop fucking cleaning my kitchen!”

Teen Wolf was still playing in the background as they stared at each other, knowing full well neither of them was going to back down. The wet rag on Dottie’s hand dripped water onto the linoleum, silence stretching between them. Eddie waited, and waited, his expression worried and desperate at the same time. Her lower lip quivered the more she looked into his earnest eyes. She felt so dumb and small. All day she’d been stressing herself out at the possibility of Eddie wanting to take their relationship to the next level and he hadn’t even thought about it. Wanted to watch a movie and hold you, he’d said.

Dottie had never really known what it was to desire intimacy until Eddie had waltzed right into her life, and the more she pondered on it, the more ashamed she felt. Wasn’t he supposed to want it more than she did? He was the man after all, that’s what guys did, right? What did it mean then, if she was ready for more and he wasn’t? Did he not want her at all? Wasn’t he as attracted to her as she was to him?

“Can we please forget I said anything?” she mumbled, more droplets of water hitting the floor as she unconsciously squeezed the rag in her fist.

“No, baby, we can’t,” he said softly, reaching to remove the wet cloth from her hands and guiding her towards the couch again one step at a time. “We really have to talk about this.”

“It’s so humiliating, Eddie, please,” Dottie pleaded. “You don’t want to do it, I get it. It’s okay, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Darling Dottie, baby, my love,” he put his hands on her shoulders dramatically. “You don’t want to know how much I actually want to have sex with you because I promise you it’s a lot, but we need to talk about this because I can’t have you thinking that the only reason I want to spend time with you is because there might be fucking involved.”

“I know that’s not the only thing, but-,” she began with burning cheeks, but he stopped her by pushing her onto the cushions again.

“No, no, no. No buts. We can finish the movie and go to sleep on opposite sides of the bed and I wouldn’t give a shit. Am I gonna jerk off in the bathroom when you’re out of here? Fuck yeah, you’re hot as shit, babe,” he said, pleased that even though she groaned and covered her face with her hands, she giggled at his crass words. “But I need you to understand that we don’t have to do anything we don’t feel like doing. Ever. I’m happy with this. I’m happy with you.”

“You really mean that?”

“Do you even know how much it means to me that you want to sleep in my bed with me?” Eddie said, his voice sounding constricted. “That no matter what happens, if we have sex or not, that you’re still gonna be there when I wake up?”

“Why wouldn’t I be there?” Dottie looked confused.

“Darling, come on,” he said, like it was obvious. “I’ve never been dating material. No one has ever been interested in doing that shit with me, at least not until you showed up. Look, if you want to do it, I’m all for it. I promise you, seeing you today at the lake in those cute little panties had me almost drowning myself. I’d be happy to do literally anything with you, but if you think we have to do it because I want it, then get that idea out of your head, okay? This is… this is new to me. No one has ever wanted me just for me and you say you do, so I’m going slow with you because I honestly don’t know what the fuck I’m doing and I don’t want to fuck this up,” he pulled her hands away from where they were tucked against her chest and kneaded her skin with his thumbs. “You mean too much to me to rush into things because I’m thinking with the wrong head.”

“Eddie,” she groaned, letting her head fall forward until it hit his collarbone.

“What?” he chuckled.

Dottie felt like shit. She couldn’t even pretend not to feel like shit, because that’s truly how she felt. Here was Eddie, sweet, loving, perfect Eddie battling his own demons and still putting her first, and all she could think about was how she’d basically cornered him and accused him of not making a move on her because he didn’t like her enough to have sex with her. He did like her, more than enough if he was to believed, and he yet he was still willing to wait because he didn’t want to fuck anything up.

Her heart broke for him as they sat on the couch, his head coming to rest on top of hers and his nails lightly scratching her back on top of her pjs. She put her arms around his waist and held him, horribly cognizant of how much love was stored in him, and how little he’d received from others throughout his entire life. The idea that anyone had taken Eddie to bed (or, most accurately, to the back of his van) and had made him feel disposable and unwanted was almost unthinkable to her. How could anyone leave him after seeing him at his most vulnerable? No, that was simply unacceptable, and Dottie knew she couldn’t let that notion fester in his brain anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she said, nuzzling his jaw. “I don’t really have a lot of experience on this and I thought you were just waiting until we were alone, and then when you didn’t even kiss me, I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“Wait, I haven’t kissed you since Wayne left?”

“You gave me a kiss on the cheek at lunch.”

“I haven’t kissed you all day?!” Eddie was appalled.

“It’s okay, we haven’t really been alone-”

“It’s not okay, we need to fix this,” he said, squishing her cheeks and planting a peck on her lips. “Can’t fucking believe-” he smooched her again. “-I haven’t-” Smooch. “-kissed this pretty face-”

“Eddie, stop!” she laughed, mirth in her face and in her voice.

“Prettiest- fucking- girl-,” he kept pressing wet kisses to every part of her face he could reach while she giggled and tried to squirm out of his reach. “Why are you running away from me, huh? Let me love you, come on!”

Time stopped when Dottie’s back hit the cushion she’d been sitting on, Eddie falling on top of her and barely managing to hold himself up in time so he wouldn’t hit her face with his big head. He let out a silly laugh, grateful for his quick reflexes or else they’d be dealing with a bloody nose, but he cut it short when he felt Dottie’s hand come up to push his unruly hair behind his ear. She was smiling, yes, but she was looking up at him with the kind of loving eyes he’d only ever seen in movies before he’d met her. Eyes he never thought one day could be looking at him.

The tension in the air was thick as she made herself comfortable between his arms, legs opening so he could hover over her like he’d done a few times by now whenever they kissed on her bed. Eddie was about to lean in to do just that when she moved her hand from his hair and brought it to the buttons at the front of her pajama set. As if transfixed, he saw her undo the first button, and then the second one, the dainty blue floral pattern giving way to skin covered by a pure white cotton bra with a thin lace trim. Her fingers were onto the third button when Eddie’s right hand covered hers, stopping her movements at once.

“W-what are you doing?” he said, searching her face for any signs of discomfort or unease. He found none.

“Can you help me take this off?” she said, with that characteristic tender determination he loved so much.

“We don’t have to. That’s not what I meant-”

“Just love me, Eddie. Please.”

“Darling, I-,” he was terrified. Completely and utterly terrified, his big doe eyes shining as he tried to find the words for what he was feeling.

“I’m gonna be here when you fall asleep, and I’ll still be here when you wake up. I promise,” she whispered, knees rising until they bracketed his hips, her hands moving to cup his face again.

“I love you,” Eddie said, letting his weight pull him down and into her embrace as he burrowed his head into her neck. “Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

“I love you too, Ed.”

“Yeah? You do?”

“Mhm. So so much.”

“Okay,” he mumbled wetly.

He gave himself a few seconds to breathe in the moment and she let him, understanding that as much as this meant to her, it meant a whole lot to him too. After mentally patting himself on the back a couple of times, he rose back again onto his forearms and nodded once, like he was convincing himself that he wouldn’t ruin anything by charging forward. After all, it looked like she had been waiting for him at the next pit stop once more.

“Okay, we’re gonna do this, yeah? You ready?” he asked, mouth pulling into half a smile.

“Yeah. You might have to, like, have some patience with me. Because I want this, I swear I do, but I’m really nervous.”

“I’m nervous too,” he said, filled with easy excitement. “Let’s, uh, let’s get ready for bed first, okay? And we can see where it goes from there?”

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed.

There was palpable electricity around them as they collected themselves for the night. While Dottie was in the bathroom, Eddie took his time straightening the living room for when Wayne came home, not wanting a repeat from the awkward talk they’d had with him a few weeks back. He didn’t want to disappoint his old man; he really had taught him better than that. When she was done and it was his turn to brush his teeth, she waited for him right next to the light switch, and once he returned to her, they moved together hand in hand from the darkened area to his cozy bedroom, self-contained mess on every corner welcoming them further in.

“Do, uh,” Eddie said as he clicked his door closed. “Do you want the lights on or off?”

“Off, I think,” Dottie replied, chewing anxiously on her nail again. “But maybe we could open the curtain a little bit? I think that’d be good.”

Once the room was sufficiently shrouded in darkness and their eyes had adjusted to the pouring moonlight, Eddie suddenly remembered something of vital importance he had tucked away in one of his drawers. Dottie watched him from where she was sitting on the corner of his bed; he moved around old shirts and socks until he found what he had been looking for. Sheepishly, he turned to her and held a little blue box, almost identical to the one they’d thrown out when they’d cleaned his room all those months earlier.

“Figured this would come in handy one day,” he scratched his neck with a sorry grin on his face. “I promise I checked the expiry date on these before I got them.”

“Yeah, that’s, that’s kinda very important,” she laughed at how ridiculously bashful they were being. “Y-you wanna get in now?”

“Sure!”

Eddie threw the newly purchased box of condoms onto his bedside table to find later if he happened to need them and got under the covers, lifting them up for her to get in as well. They lay there for a few seconds, turned onto their sides so they could see each other but neither moved. Feeling very goofy because of how much they were tiptoeing around the whole thing, he reached out across the bed until his fingertips found her arm, gently pulling her closer.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered, tucking her into his side like he’d done so many times before and was sure he’d do many more times in the future.

“I love you,” she said, between soft kisses.

“I love you,” he replied.

Summer nights at the Munson trailer had never been Eddie’s favorite, at least not until now. He didn’t care anymore about the climbing temperatures and the fact that they didn’t have a functioning aircon, he couldn’t find it in himself to give two shits about the way the neighbor’s dog barked all fucking night, and how the cicadas never stopped singing their song until the sun was out in the sky again. How could he, when there was a literal miracle happening right inside his own bedroom?

As the two lost teens found themselves in each other, a dream grew underneath their shared bed: flowers fed with love blossomed in the humble garden of an imaginary fixer-upper in a quiet, yet pleasantly quirky neighborhood. There was a dog basking in the sun in the backyard, and a swing in the front porch with hand-sewn cushions on it. And in the imaginary foyer of the imaginary house, on the imaginary entrance table right below the imaginary frames that held pictures of moments that hadn’t happened yet, sat a shared bowl of rusty keys from long forgotten padlocks that neither owner knew where they were anymore, the keys not belonging to one or other, but to both of them at the same time.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3 @oneforthemunny

@munsons-queen

[regexkind]

i was going to put 'when does cum start decomposing' after that question! anyway how much active cum[< 1d old] do you reckon's in the sea? do fishes cum. there'd be a lot of semen in that case. let's assume only human cum, that would be more ..intentional?

According to the Population Reference Bureau something like 3 billion people live within 200km of the coast. I would guess without evidence that most people who are cumming in the ocean are

- closer in than 200km

- not visiting (they're residents)

So the question is how many people live within say 25km of the coast, which I would personally consider to be a more reasonable travel distance, with some caveats:

- I've ever traveled over 1000 miles for sex but that's the exception for me and not the rule

- if I was a Real Analyst or whatever I'd do some sort of integral where the integration region was "the populated world" and the term of integration was a product of "distance by land to the coast, multiplied by a term reflecting how economic means impact your capability for traveling." I could be a Real Analyst or whatever but by god my head is pulsing like a food processor right now. You're getting an abridged analysis.

According to Bill Moyers (ok, really PBS, but it's way funnier to cite him in a sex thing), some 1.1 billion people live within 25km of the coastline. I think it's actually pretty reasonable to assume most of these people live near "warm" water that won't kill you by swimming in it.

So now the question really becomes, what portion of people are the kinds of deviants who would engage in such behavior, and how often is sex in the ocean on the menu for the day? We can assume then that (# of people who had sex today in the ocean) * (jizz volume) * (percentage that stays in the (p|b|thr)ussy) is a reasonable estimate.

One of the biggest issues is that according to Quora (god I'm sorry for this C-grade source lmao) sex in the ocean is fun in theory and miserable in practice. Seems likely that of those who have sex in the ocean, those who do are not likely to repeat the experience. So we can estimate and say that of the coastal kinkster population, (1/lifespan) is the probability that they had sex today. AGAIN it would be so beneficial to do this weighted in a way that reflects how geography and lifespan interact. But I ain't doing that this morning.

So that leaves deciding what proportion of people are open to having sex in the ocean. Now this is just a ballpark estimate and I'm going to pretend that it's reasonable to say somewhere between 1% and 10% of people are so inclined. I have no data and no idea how to acquire it.

According to the Lancet, the life expectancy globally is like. 70 years. So our jizzers of the day can be estimated as

1.1 B * (range of kinky ppl) * (1/(365*70))

Which is between 430 and 4300 jizzers.

The volume of semen according to Medline is somewhere between 1.5 to 5.0 mL. Let us say that half the jizz ends up in the ocean, so 0.75 to 2.5mL.

Then we have 322mL as a floor and 11L as a ceiling.

A Fermi estimate is supposed to have the range of an order of magnitude and this is closer to 2 orders of magnitude. Sorry Mr. Feynman for letting you down.

This analysis also clearly fails to e.g. account for semen that is flushed down the toilet and directly into the ocean. But I'm gonna call it good and pass out for a hot second.

[onenettvchannel]

#OnlyOnOneNETnews: The Negros Chronicle celebrates its 50th Golden Anniversary [EXCLUSIVE]

(Prepared by Elinor Rabbit and Rhayniel Saldasal Calimpong / News and Science Correspondent of PBS Kids' News & Freelance News Writer, Reporter and Presenter of OneNETnews)

DUMAGUETE, NEGROS ORIENTAL -- One of the only longest-running weekly community provincial newspaper in Negros Oriental dubbed as The Negros Chronicle (TNC), celebrates its 50th Golden Anniversary. Founded in mid-June 1973, the ages of the Philippine Martial Law, only lasted for a year and a half of its 17-year rule, during the administrative presidency of the late Ferdinand Emmanuel Edralin Marcos Sr.

To kick-off a golden anniversary celebration, Dumaguete Mayor named Felipe Antonio Ipe Remollo congratulates to TNC during a public dinner Monday night (June 12th, 2023) outside the Dumaguete Press Club (DPC) on Rizal Boulevard, Dumaguete, Negros Oriental - around few meters before Pantawan People's Park.

Following a frequency swap and a radio transfer of ownership to DYMD-FM 93.7mhz of Ultrasonic Broadcasting System Inc. (UBSi) aside their issues of propaganda, TNC's family is headed by Station Manager of DYEM-FM 96.7mhz's Bai Radio (formerly Energy FM, per current founder of independent music, talk and news FM radio station of Negros Broadcasting & Publishing Corporation or NBPC), former flagship president's founder of the DPC, and a newspaper editor & publisher named Ely P. Dejaresco.

TNC's provincial newspaper company are all affiliated by the Philippine Press Institute and the National & Dumaguete Press Club.

We personally obtained an exclusive newspaper copy at 106 E.J. Blanco Drive, Brgy. Piapi, the said city and later relayed to the news stands of Hi-Top Newsmag & General Merchandise in Dr. V. Locsin Street. The newspaper tabloid costs PHP20 (around 40 cents U$D).

All of these years spent in the newspaper industry for print media are part of its historical journey like us. Numerous things have happened up to this point, both good and bad times. With a variety of fair and impartial viewpoints to the world of Negrosanon... Some pioneer of journalists, entrepreneurs and Dejaresco himself will continue making and delivering local and regional news to your traditional doorsteps in Negros Oriental that makes a bit sense of it all.

You can get a physical newspaper issue of its 50th Golden Anniversary of The Negros Chronicle. Get yours for a limited time in your nearest news stands all around the city while supplies last.

EDITOR's MESSAGE (via Rhayniel): Our generations never die in the Newspaper Industry by seeking all the truth. I am now a digital freelance person of technology to provide our own thing to do the same. From our management and staff of OneNETtv Channel and OneNETnews, Happy 50th Golden Anniversary, TNC!!!

PHOTO COURTESY: Rhayniel Saldasal Calimpong / Freelanced Photojournalist for OneNETnews BACKGROUND PROVIDED BY: Tegna

SOURCE: *https://www.facebook.com/100064282924416/videos/6252111411548334 [Referenced Editoral News Item from 96.7mhz DYEM-FM Bai Radio: Dumaguete] *https://www.facebook.com/100064282924416/posts/656919166460842 [Referenced Captioned FB Photo via 96.7mhz DYEM-FM Bai Radio: Dumaguete] *https://www.facebook.com/100064282924416/videos/634606612057676 [Referenced FB Audio #1 via 96.7mhz DYEM-FM Bai Radio: Dumaguete] *https://www.facebook.com/100064282924416/videos/1203834826960426 [Referenced FB Audio #2f via 96.7mhz DYEM-FM Bai Radio: Dumaguete] *https://www.facebook.com/100043945518403/videos/605441798350501 [Referenced News Item via Balita Karon Negros] *http://jaydejaresco.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-first-desk-job-news-transcriber.html [Referenced Editoral Blog Post #1 via Breathing Space of Mr. Ely Dejaresco] *http://jaydejaresco.blogspot.com/2006/02/newspapers-most-difficult-job.html [Referenced Editoral Blog Post #2 via Breathing Space of Mr. Ely Dejaresco] *http://jaydejaresco.blogspot.com/2006/02/newsboy-days.html [Referenced Editoral Blog Post #3f via Breathing Space of Mr. Ely Dejaresco] *https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DYEM *https://elibrary.judiciary.gov.ph/thebookshelf/showdocs/2/349 *https://elibrary.judiciary.gov.ph/thebookshelf/showdocs/2/92778 *http://philpressinstitute.net/about-us/ [Referenced Biography via Philippine Press Institute] *https://nationalpressclubphilippines.com/about-us/ [Referenced Biography via National Press Club] and *https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1187389 [Referenced News Article from the Philippine News Agency]

-- OneNETnews Team

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

The Critique of Manners Part VI

~Or~

An Attempt at an Objective Review of Emma (2009)... VOLUME TWO

Haha, bitches you didn't think I could wait a whole week did you? Nah, not me. and guys, I added to it--all total, it's 9,023 words now. this half of the review is 5,214. HOW DO I HAVE SO MANY WORDS FOR THIS THING? I'm not gonna split it into a third part, because I don't need to for picture limit purposes, but buckle in.

If you didn't catch it, read part 1 here

Here it is, the stunning conclusion to my Emma Adaptation Review series (but this isn't really the end because I plan on doing some rankings later). In this half of my review of BBC'S Emma (2009) we'll discuss Costumes and all the very specific things that I love about this version, and some things I don't like, and some things I'm here to defend.

Let's dive in!

Costumes

Generally I liked these costumes pretty well. They were designed and facilitated by Rosalind Ebbutt, also known for her work on PBS’s Victoria and Vanity Fair (1998). And her work is, as her filmography would suggest, by turns, great and so-so.

These costumes are definitely in line with the adaptation’s general aesthetic: warm pinks and golds, with mints emeralds and blues to cool it off a little, are the order of the day. I really appreciate that every character has a definite color palette. The tradeoff is that this adaptation is the WORST EVER offender for the Jane Fairfax Blue™ trope.

Daywear

Emma’s daywear is full of warm and muted colors. Salmon and magenta are commonly seen. I love that most of Emma’s daywear consists of sleeveless or short-sleeved gowns with wide-sleeved linen blouses underneath. It’s not a commonly seen aesthetic so it feels light and fresh. My favorite of Emma’s daywear dresses is the pale yellow with purple floral print.

There’s one other in particular that I love.

Emma’s blue, sleeveless dress. I love this because of HOW OBVIOUSLY it’s a reference to this portrait of Charlotte, Princess of Wales. I mean...

I’M NOT IMAGINING THIS, RIGHT? WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT THIS? This is a REAL dress. They still have this exact gown of Princess Charlotte’s. It’s on display. It’s faded, but it’s the same dress.

Harriet has a fresh and innocent green, white and purple color scheme with healthy doses of peach and pink showing. I particularly like her white and purple floral print dress.

Mrs. Weston’s color palette varies, but leans heavily on tans and purples, which is very flattering, I must say, to Johdi May’s coloring and is really refreshing for Mrs. Weston who seems to get stuck in pinks and yellows a lot. No idea what’s going on with the laced-front dress though? This doesn’t quite read as authentic to me, but I do like that her first dress seems to be an apron-front.

I know I already said that this is the worst Jane Fairfax Blue™ offender, but guys I can’t stress it enough. WE ARE 5/5 ON DAYWEAR HERE. LOOK AT THAT. (Also of note, Jane 5 is one of Gwyneth Paltrow’s dresses from the '96 Emma.)

Mrs. Elton seems, at all times, to be wearing some form of pink, but I think I’m right in saying that the white day dress with the rose patterned bodice under the yellow and pink spencer is one of Jane’s dresses from P&P ’80. Can anyone confirm that? They did sneak in some Mrs. Elton Orange™ though, for Box Hill, and it’s worth noting that Mrs. Elton is the only lady who’s appropriately dressed on that occasion.

Isabella gets some understated day gowns that are very nice and also VERY “Jane Austen” in the sense that I feel like Jane Austen herself might have worn them.

Miss Bates, unfortunately is slapped with brown at just about every turn, but at least her “Nice” day outfit has some subtle leaf patterns, which is refreshing. Also Mrs. Goddard has a slappin’ cap. Love that.

Also, Harriet’s Grecian costume for the painting (upper right hand corner). What can I say, but that I love it. I love that it hints at the neoclassical influences on Regency fashion too. This is my favorite interpretation of the painting too.

Evening Wear

You know what I love about this version? It’s the first version of Emma where her gown for the Crown in Ball isn’t WHITE. I know, I know white was fashionable, but it’s just… it’s nice for not EVERY gown in a ball scene to be plain white friggin muslin and also, it’s not one she’s ever worn before, which is great.

Harriet does have only white evening gowns but that’s okay. My only complaint is that, specifically on her Crown Inn dress and in a lot of her costumes in general, the waistline seems just a little low. Hmm. I really like the pale blue pattern on her first evening dress though.

Mrs. Weston though. Woo. Look at those. She has a dark chartreuse gown with black lace trim that any other version would have put on Mrs. Elton, so you know from the dark tones that she’s a bitch. Not so with Emma '09, and that’s good. And her teal dinner number is a favorite of mine. I never paid much attention to her green and gold ball gown but it has some really beautiful, subtle leaf or maybe peacock feather patterns on it and I love that. My only problem is that there seem to be some fit issues. She’s got muffin top way too often. Her orange evening dress is a bit of a dud though, firstly, because it has long sleeves (which is an evening gown no-no) and the fabric slaps a bit too much of sari fabric for my tastes.

Jane, not only is put in blue with both of her evening gowns (although one is so pale it borders on white), ONE of them is another Emma ’96 repeat and not only that, it’s one of Jane Fairfax’s dresses in that film! Perhaps that’s enough to make it an homage, and I have to say, I think Laura Pyper wore it better.

Miss Bates only has one evening wear ensemble, but at least it’s cream and not brown.

Mrs. Elton’s gowns are surprisingly understated, and yet still seem to be annoyingly fussy and, what’s better? They’re not sickly green. One of them is actually a very pleasant mint.

Outerwear

Outerwear is roundly pretty great here. Emma’s primary choice of color for spencers is emerald/evergreen and one of them is Elizabeth’s Bennet’s from the 1995 P&P (though to be honest, I think Jennifer Ehle filled it out better.) I do love Mrs. Elton’s pink and yellow number with the slashed sleeves. Jane Fairfax’s only spencer is, you guessed it, blue, but her friend Miss Campbell has a rather fun mauve one.

There’s no shortage of pelisses and redingotes either. Harriet can be seen in one borrowed from Elinor Dashwood in the '08 S&S, Mrs. Weston has a rather fabulous purple one which she wears with the most delicious looking hat I’ve ever seen.

Emma has two. The first one is a great magenta number with military braiding (and I think she wears with it one of the brown slouch hats that Kate Beckinsale wore in the same role) and while the other pelisse is brown, they had the sense not to make her wear a hat with it that was also brown. Instead, they gave her a contrasting color. Good on ya, Rosalind!

Speaking of hats, I don't often single them out for commentary, but I want to here because… the hat authenticity is… kinda spotty. Let me show you.

Okay first of all, Emma may be a teenager in this pic on the upper left, but she is not dressed formally enough for her sister’s wedding (which is what’s going on in this scene) but at least her hat is pretty good. You can see the ribbons are on the inside of the hat here, which is as it should be… but she never wears this hat again. At any point in the series. Instead, we next see her in the one on the upper right and ye gads this is atrocious. WHY IS HER HAT NOT PINNED ON? IT’S SLIDING DOWN THE BACK OF HER HEAD. SOMONE FIX IT. PLEASE. But wait, there’s more. This kills me because these bottom two are so similar to the one she wore earlier (the correct one) but crappier looking. Jeez.

This is not a hat. It’s a peanut. You know who doesn’t have this problem? Harriet. She only has one sun hat but at least it’s correct.

I also wanna touch briefly on this ^ costume continuity issue.

WTF is this? She’s in the hall, her ribbon is contoured to the line of her dress; she goes into the drawing room and… it isn’t anymore? Wha happun?

I took more menswear screencaps for this version than any other version. And that’s because the men just have more outfits that are, y’know, different from each other.

Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight the first pic there and why I love it. This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding.

He also has a rather lovely blue evening waistcoat that I WISH I could have gotten better shot of (although I do believe it’s also worn by Henry Crawford in the '07 Mansfield Park, so for further reading…)

Mr. Weston finally gets to wear clothes that aren’t all brown! He only has ONE brown outfit. He gets PATTERNED waistcoats, one of them a rather spiffing blue and brown striped number. And he wears TROUSERS! Because he’s a gentleman, and he’s not that old and trousers are worn by fashionable gentlemen in this period!

You know who else gets to wear trousers and at least one fun waistcoat? Mr. Woodhouse. Check out that lovely Sunday Best™ waistcoat. The red striped one. That’s delightful.

John Knightley’s evening wear intrigues me. That’s a double-breasted jacket, and you know I’m not totally sure that’s very authentic for evening-wear of this period, but it is different. Unfortunately he also has a flared top hat and that is definitely not on for this period.

One of my favorite things about this version is that they don’t dress Mr. Elton as a clergyman all the time. Yes, he may be the vicar, but he’s also allowed to dress like a fashionable, handsome young man. So I’m really happy that he gets to flex his fashion muscles here.

And speaking of fashionable young men, FINALLY frank gets to be COLORFUL and his trousers are even tight enough. Both he AND Elton are often seen wearing TWO waistcoats, as I would expect them to, and even though Frank’s a dandy, he knows that flashiness is gauche so his pops of color are bright, but not in your face. His green and red waistcoats are always worn under more muted colors, and I just love it.

The only problems are… what’s with the turned-down waistcoat collars? There’s no precedent for this, in fact I think it’s directly contradictory to the style at the time, and also it makes the cravats look a bit unruly.

A Critique of Manners

A lot has been said about the manners in this adaption. Like, the actual manners, body language and facial expressions, specifically vis-à-vis Romola Garai.

And, oh yeah, there’s a lot to pick at here, but first I’d like to talk about the facial expressions.

I'm mostly gonna be talking out of my ass here, but this is my take, so if anyone can make a better argument against my points, I am listening, because I don't really like talking out of my ass and I like to be informed. That said...

I tend to be lenient on the… exaggerated facial expressions because, something I’ve noticed reading Austen’s works through the last several months is that Austen is very descriptive when it comes to facial expressions and I just find it hard to believe that people in the Regency Era never made exaggerated expressions like this.

I’ve heard a lot about how Garai’s Emma is not dignified or lady-like. But let’s think about the context of Emma Woodhouse – she’s never been in society. She’s only had a governess to teach her, and we know Emma’s always been sort of averse to being told what she can and can’t do. Emma is the highest ranking woman in her social circle (barring Isabella’s occasional presence). Emma doesn’t have to be ladylike. At 21, she’s already her local Lady Catherine. She puts a lot of stock in her position in society but, as Mrs. Elton will be the first to hypocritically point out, she’s very poorly behaved. I'd be very curious to see what would happen if Emma went to London for the season. Probably, she'd be seen, comparatively, as a country bumpkin. Can you imagine how she might get on in a sea of accomplished young ladies? She can barely handle having ONE rival with any kind of grace.

Austen never describes bodily movements of the kind we’re looking at when we watch adaptations, so why not have Emma’s body-language be un-ladylike in the conventional sense of the time? I’m not saying this to excuse the absolutely inexcusable (Frank’s head in her lap, kneeling on the sofa backwards etc.), but while Emma’s mannerisms aren’t exactly ladylike for her time, they’re not overtly masculine either (which was one of my biggest problem with Death Comes to Pemberly for example.)

Yes, there’s an ideal for manners. But we know real people didn’t always follow those ideals. In dancing for example, many dancing guidebooks of the day were full of repeated instructions not to be too loud or rambunctious when dancing. What this tells us is that people were doing just that, and probably quite a bit, too. I think that, while taking societal strictures into account, we shouldn’t totally discount the idea that people in the Regency weren’t really that different from us, and young people especially.

Now I’ve already mentioned some of the inexcusable aspects of interaction in this adaptation and they’re so notorious at this point, I don’t think that I really need to go over them much here. Although I will say: is it ridiculous to have Frank Churchill put his head in Emma’s lap? Yes. Did it make me more viscerally uncomfortable with the situation on Box Hill than any other version? Yes.

I was like, 14 when I watched this the first time. This was an effective way to telegraph to young people like me that Emma is being extremely inappropriate here in a way that no other version really managed to, even when I watched them when I was older and understood the period more. I’m far more acquainted with Regency manners than I was then, but to be honest – if they had been accurate with the manners here, when I was 14 I would not have understood what the big deal was. Is there merit in circumventing historical accuracy in favor of reaching a less-informed but still-interested audience? Yes, I think so. There were three other versions of this, at that point, that did this scene with more or less pristine manners. Not every version has to follow the manners of the time to-the-letter to be good. That’s my feeling on the matter.

There are things that do really bother me though. Like the idea that Harriet Smith doesn’t know how to spoon soup, for instance. As I said in my review for the Miramax version, table manners are pretty basic, there’s no reason Mrs. Goddard wouldn’t have taught Harriet this. It does provide a good moment to show Emma tacitly coaching Harriet and showing the trajectory in which this relationship will go, but personally I don’t think it was necessary—there are plenty of other ways that could be done.

Also: kids at the dinner table? I know this is part of building the familial atmosphere but it really does annoy me, because apart from building the familial atmosphere (which they do very well and frequently in other ways) it really didn’t need to happen, and it doesn’t add anything.

The Heart of Highbury

So, as I’ve hinted at throughout this review, the bread and butter of this adaptation of Emma is emotion. This version goes hard and heavy on showingthe relationships – Emma’s relationships with Mrs. Weston, Mr. Knightley, her father, her sister, her brother-in-law, Miss Bates; Jane’s relationship with Frank; Frank’s relationship with his father; The John Knightleys’ home life – and it illustrates things that can be surmised from just reading the story, but really draws your attention to them in ways that other adaptations just don’t.

It does this from the very beginning with the prologue which explains in detail (not just in quick exposition between characters) how Jane and Frank were separated from their families at young ages. We know now, from psychological study, that being taken away from their primary caretakers during their formative years is one of the most psychologically traumatizing things for a child. This is deeply important context which is explained in detail by the narrator in 2-3 large pages (in my Barnes & Noble anthology) in the book.

In the featurette on the houses, they talk particularly about Hartfield and the Woodhouses being the heart of Highbury and how they particularly wanted it to feel homey because Hartfield is Emma’s house and they wanted the audience to feel why everyone is so drawn to it, and to Emma; to me that is what they did with the whole adaptation in microcosm.

I usually talk a bit about the dancing and I'm going to here as well because this is maybe the most special dance scene in any Austen for me. Of course I'm going to link to Tea with Cassiane as usual because she knows what she's talking about and I don't. But I wanna add some comments. She gives this a pretty low rating in spite of a generally favorable commentary because of two big oopsies, the circle dance formation is one, and the other is I believe, an issue with the style of dance not matching the tune in Emma's dance with Knightley. Throwing out any objective technical analysis though, this is my favorite Ball in any Austen and it all comes down to the cornerstone of this adaptation--emotion.

All of the songs and dances were original compositions and choreography made for this adaptation. So they're not period per se, but the tunes at least are representative of how Regency dance music should sound. These dances are upbeat, and lively and, damn they look like fun. Everyone is excited here and it makes me understand why dancing was such a big thing. Best of all that excitement adds to the emotional charge of the scene. "The Ship's Cook" is the most fast paced dance and I'm glad they made this the dance where Elton snubs Harriet because it really hits for me just what Harriet would be missing out on if Knightley wasn't so fucking aptly named. In all other versions you get the insult, but the dance that's taking place is usually a Baroque walker so it doesn't seem terribly like she's missing out on much. Here, this is like not getting picked for kickball-- not only is it a slight that no one wants you on their team, but you miss out on even playing the game. Harriet looks so lonely, and her feeling of being out of place rolls off of Louise Dylan so forcefully it chokes me up just thinking about it because I've been there, man. I feel this shit. *dabs eyes*. Ahem. So, yes, when Knightley engages her for the dance the excitement the viewer feels is that much more forceful and Harriet's exuberantly starting to jump in when the timing is off and Knightley gently pulling her back, it just hits me in the feels center, guys. (I wanna take a moment to give a shout out to every camp counselor who ever partnered with me for any game at summer camp.) Emma's reaction too, is gold. Her genuine relief at Knightley swooping in is one of those great reminders that Emma is Harriet's friend, and she does care about her.

Finally on the dancing front, I wanna talk about Emma's dance with Knightley and why I prefer it to the one in the 2020 version. I already talked about this a bit in the 2020 review, so I'm gonna try and keep it brief. That shouldn't be too hard, because I'm probably mostly going to repeat a lot of what I've already said about Emma and Knightley in this version as a whole.

The big thing everyone loves about the Crown Inn dance in the 2020 is the yearning, the sexual tension, the quivering touches etc. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE all of those things but... not all the time. Not in everything, and definitely not in Emma. Because Emma, to me, isn't about repressed sexuality or heated tension or seething passion. Emma and Knightley are the opposite of that, to me, really. One of my mutuals put it best, I think: "Emma and Knightley are more suited to stolen glances than hot touches."

In Part 1 I talked about how Knightley is Emma's comfort object. When Emma is out of sorts, Knightley re-centers her. It helps set up, and puts emphasis on, the crisis of the story in the last act--Emma not knowing what she has until [she thinks] she's lost it. Emma and Knightley are Friends to Lovers done as it should be. She is already so comfortable with him she doesn't even realize her own feelings. She just feels right with Knightley and that's what this dance is here to show you--a foreshadowing of matrimonial harmony.

The dance itself, of course, is always up to interpretation, because Austen never describes how it goes, just that Knightley asks Emma to dance and Knightley doesn't dance (barring charitable causes). If you prefer the sexual tension take, if that, to you is an improvement on Austen's story and gives you what you've always felt was missing, I'm glad that there is a version now that gives you what you've been looking for, but for me, I think the 09 approach hits closer their dynamic in the book.

Now do I do think the Emphasis on emotion maybe went a little too earnest in some places in this adaptation? Maybe. Just a little.

In my last review (1972) I went on a rather lengthy tirade about the scene where they turn Emma’s appeals to Harriet to exert herself and move on following Mr. Elton’s marriage into Emma guilting Harriet into thinking she’s a bad friend for being heartbroken and then throwing her into the situation most likely to rub salt in that particular wound.

In this version, while I love the emphasis they put on the stress Emma puts on her own guilt for being the reason for Harriet’s situation in the first place, I think it’s maybe a little too… much.

That’s the only way I can put it. I know I’ve just said that I think there should be a bit more expressiveness in period drama, but this doesn’t quite match the way I read it (Emma’s a bit less desperate in Austen’s prose. Very dedicated to helping Harriet feel better, but just a skosh more composed). I think she’s even crying in this scene.

While we’re here let’s go over to Box Hill ONE. MORE. TIME.

First of all, this is where this screenplay shines, in my opinion. This is the big turning point in the story and as such, should be a touchstone for the judgment of any adaptation. This sequence in the 2009 version is a perfect crystallization of everything I love about this version—namely that this is the version that, to me, most feels like someone read the book thoroughly, paid attention to what Austen was describing and then actually tried to convey it on screen. A lot of other versions sort of feel (to me), like the director glanced at the page and said “here’s what I want to convey in my version”. Insofar as making a piece of art goes, that’s good. Directors are artists as much as painters are and movies are their canvass, but it’s seldom that you find a director who honestly wants to hit as close to the author intent as possible and this Box Hill sequence makes me feel like that’s what Jim O’Hanlon was going for. I have the book open next to me as I write this and it’s shocking to me how minutely the atmosphere described in the book is conveyed here. Most of all, the fact that Emma’s insulting Miss Bates is not the only thing faux pas she makes here. Box Hill as a whole is a disaster, and it’s largely because of Frank.

“When they all sat down it was better; to [Emma’s] taste, a great deal better, for Frank Churchill grew talkative and gay, making her his first object. To amuse her, and to be agreeable in her eyes, seemed to be all that he cared for—and Emma, glad to be enlivened, and not sorry to be flattered, was gay and easy too, and gave him all the friendly encouragement, the admission to be gallant, which she had ever given in the first and most animating period of their acquaintance; but which now, in her own estimation, meant nothing, though in the judgment of most people looking on it must have had such an appearance as no English word but flirtation could very well describe. “Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse flirted excessively.” They were laying themselves open to that very phrase—and to having it sent off in a letter to Maple Grove by one lady, to Ireland by another. Not that Emma was gay and thoughtless from any real felicity; it was rather because she felt less happy than she expected. She laughed because she was disappointed…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Most other versions rush through Frank’s “excessive” flirting with Emma (Right in front of Jane) to get to “Three Things Very Dull Indeed” as fast as possible, and yes that’s the crowning horror of Box Hill, but there’s a very intricate setting here, too, and this version has the time to lay back and let it all unfold in the oppressive discomfort of an English summer day.

Even better than all of that though is Knightley confronting Emma after it all goes down. This treatment is neither plaintive, nor aggressive as it was in ‘96 and ‘97 respectively. I’ve already extolled the virtues of Johnny Flynn’s Box Hill rebuke, but for a change I’m not going to zero in on Miller’s performance which is, at least as good as Flynn’s, but on Romola Garai’s, which I find superior to Anya Taylor Joy’s. Specifically, her reaction once she’s alone.

ATJ in the 2020 version immediately breaks down sobbing and it’s hard for me to feel that she’s sobbing for “anger against herself, mortification, and deep concern” or that there’s much self-reflection going on there. To me it rather just feels like she’s crying because she got shouted at. The theatrics of it, to me, feel childish and self-centered.

I don’t feel that with Garai’s performance.

“She was vexed beyond what could have been expressed—almost beyond what she could conceal. Never had she felt so agitated, mortified, grieved, at any circumstance in her life. She was most forcibly struck . . . How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in anyone she valued! And how to suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!

Time did not compose her…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Of course one can make the case that Emma's reaction should be a bit childish because Emma is an immature character, but that's the thing--I can agree with you anywhere else in this story but this is Emma's maturing moment. This is her turning point as a character. It's where we should see her reactions shift from the same childish denial we're used to seeing when Knightley scolds her, because this is different. It's not the usual brushing off of big brother Knightley, this is a young woman reacting to an esteemed friend pointing out how abhorrently inappropriate she's been and her having to admit that to herself.

I didn't really want to drag comparisons to the 2020 film into this, not on this scale at least, but this just jumped out at me the last time I watched the new film and I have to express it somewhere.

What I see in Garai’s performance is desolation and mortification. That shocked tearfulness of knowing you’ve been justly reproached for wrongdoing, but being too frozen in a pretense of composure to actually cry about it until you’re quite sure that no one will see you. And especially when it’s someone you esteem rebuking you, the horror of them leaving before you can admit that they’re right. There’s so much more depth here, I think, and I can’t even quite express what it makes me feel.

The aspect of time not composing her is another thing that they decided to put stress on in this version. Emma looks fucked up in the following scenes. When she goes to see Miss Bates, she clearly either hasn’t slept or has slept very badly. I feel like this is maybe an anticlimactic conclusion to this section but I’m afraid I’m very close to reaching incoherence, so I’m just gonna leave it here.

My absolute favoritest thing about this version though—something that sets it apart from ALL other versions and even adaptations of other Austen stories—is the inclusion of the post-confession conversation.

This is something of a trope in Austen books but it very rarely finds its way into adaptations: confessions of love are out of the way, the hero and heroine settle into an easy an comfortable conversation, glowing with happiness as they explain and laugh over their actions and misinterpretations of each other’s choices. It happens in Pride and Prejudice, in Persuasion, and yes, in Emma. This is the only Austen adaptation, that I've seen, to include this kind of conversation in any kind of detail. The 1995 Pride and Prejudice alludes to the corresponding scene in it its source material, but the lines pulled from it get tossed into the confession scene itself and then it flies through to get to the obligatory wedding—a side effect of rushing through endings, a convention I’m rather tired of.

Emma (2009) takes its time with this, as with all other aspects of this adaptation. For a version that’s so full of energy, its pacing is extremely laid back and comfortable, without dragging. When you hear the gentle musical swell and Emma and Knightley have their kiss (this whole confession sequence is so sweet and wonderful in its own right), you expect that to be it. But no, we cut to them, the picture of contented happiness, sitting together on a bench overlooking Hartfield’s garden, just talking and enjoying being together, with no teasing, no pretense. If Jane Austen stories emphasize anything, it’s the importance of communication in relationships, and I think that’s maybe why she made it a point in almost every story to show her characters communicating their feelings in words, even after all the conflict has been resolved. This is my favorite scene in the whole series (In case it being my header image didn’t make that obvious.)

This is followed rather promptly by a cut to the next day, with Emma bursting in to Donwell in hysterics about how they can’t be married because she won’t leave her father alone.

This is one of those maybe over-the-top choices that a lot of people don’t like, but guys, it was so funny to me when I was fourteen and it still makes me laugh. It might seem outlandish, but to me it’s just the emphasis on personal relationships and emotion coming through again and it always makes me smile.

Final Thoughts

It’s hard for me to give a proper round up of my feelings for this section because I think I’ve poured just about all of my feelings on each aspect into its dedicated sections.

At the end of the day, the only thing that really disappoints me about this version is the number of missed opportunities there are here. One of my favorite parts of reading Austen is when I run across a line in dialogue or narrative that just… slaps. But they never make it into the adaptations. Emma is full of them and I just wish that Sandy Welch could have taken an opportunity to slip a few of them in.

In summary, I think this is a wonderful, heartfelt adaptation aimed at getting to the emotional heart of a story that often gets caught up in the Mean Girl-ness of its main character than the coming of age story that it is. It's one of my favorite period dramas because it's one of the few that really captures the spirit of the source material as it's always felt to me. There's really only two other period dramas that I esteem on the same level as this, and they're North & South (2004) and Jane Eyre (2011) and it's for the same reasons; because they impact me deeply on an emotional level--which is what art is supposed to do--because of how well it captures the essence of the story that I know and love.

So did I succeed in a more objective review of Emma 2009? I' feel like probably not. But I tried my best. It’s so hard to be objective about something that makes you as happy as this adaptation makes me.

Ribbon Rating: Most Agreeable (83 Ribbons)

Tone: 10

Casting: 9

Acting: 9

Scripting: 7

Pacing: 10

Cinematography: 7

Setting: 9

Costumes: 6

Music: 8

Book Accuracy: 8

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

Back to School

Literature Professor! Robert De Niro x Reader

Based on a weird dream I had! But I've developed it into a whole thing 😘

Word count: 2k

TW: none, it's all fluff--part 2, not so much

As you walk through the literature building on campus looking for your classroom, you check your schedule one last time to make sure you end up at the right classroom.

As you're looking at the schedule you can't help but feel like you're taking a chance with this course, because the professor is listed as TBD: To Be Determined. At the time of scheduling your classes, it's normal for the professor slot to say TBD, but normally, as summer was coming to an end, you knew who all of your professors would be.

At the end of the day, the class was only an elective, and you could drop it and work out the problems later if it was that bad.

Before you know it, your feet have carried you to your classroom and you pop your head in the door to peak at what's going on inside. There are a few students, most of them sitting in the front desks, probably hoping to do well in the class by sitting up front.

You walk in and take a seat by the professors desk--taking another chance,-- but you like to try to get to know your professors, especially in a small class like this. A few more people come in and find their seats, but there's still several minutes before class starts.

Just as you were pulling books out of your bag for class, Robert De Niro walks in and asks, "Is this is the Film Lit class?" All of your books hit the floor.

One of your classmates spoke up, "Yeah, this is your class. Nice to meet ya, Professor De Niro!"

"Nice to meet you, too," he says, shaking the kid's hand.

You tap the girl in front of you on the shoulder and ask, "That's the professor?!" She laughs a little and says, "Yeah, you didn't get the message? They're letting him teach a class on the books he's studied for roles."

You felt like you were in a dream. Everyone was so casual with this, but then again, they had all gotten some kind of notification about it.

Trying to pull it together, you reach down and scramble to pick all of your books up and set them on your desk. Suddenly, you hear your professor's voice coming from beside you, "Do you need any help with that?"

You look over to see him standing at his desk, giving you a concerned look.

His desk; the one you chose to sit near.

You now have a panicky feeling of regret about the seat you chose.

"Um, no, I can get it," you shoot back to him quickly before grabbing the last books from the floor.

You could feel his eyes on you though, and you tried to pretend you didn't and focus on writing something in your notebook, but it wasn't long before you gave in and looked at him. He was sat back in his chair, just watching you for the small moment it took to get your books. He gave you a charming smile.

"Do you need something, professor?" It came out of your mouth without thinking.

"Hmm, just your name," he replied smugly. Was he flirting with you?

"(Y/N)."

"Well, (Y/N), it's nice to meet you," he stands and reaches across his desk to shake your hand, "you can call me Robert."

Before you could get your thoughts straight, he had walked up to the front of the classroom and begun class.

He started class with the simple exercise of each person telling the class their name, which book was their favorite from the summer reading, and to read their favorite passage. This took up a majority of class, because he would ask each person questions and discuss the passage with them.

He wrapped class up early by telling everyone that the first week's homework was to finish the summer reading if they hadn't, and handing out the syllabus, which was small and very simple. You take note that his office hours work pretty well with your schedule.

The class was only about 15 people, but nearly everyone wanted to talk to the professor after class; he's Robert De Niro after all. You stayed in your desk to pull out your schedule and make sure about when your next class was; you have a big break before that class.

By the time you've shoved your books in your book bag, your professor has somehow gotten out of talking to ask the other students and he makes his way over to his desk. He looks at you with a big smile and says, "Aw, were you waiting to see me?"

The last few students leave. It's just you and him.

"Oh, uh, no, I was just looking at some papers. I'm sorry." You stand up and put your back pack on.

"Oh, well, that's sad because I was hoping to see you," he starts. When he sees you're not going to respond, he continues, "It seems like you're kind of shy, and you didn't want to interact as much as the other students. Class will be highly discussion based, so I want to make sure that you'll be okay with that structure. I'd really rather not grade papers, ya know?" he ends with a small chuckle.

"I'll be okay with class discussions. Truthfully, I was just a little caught off guard because I didn't know you were the professor."

"Oh no! You didn't get the memo that went out?! That won't do. Would you mind coming to my office to make sure I have all of your contact info correct?"

"Um, sure. I have time." Truthfully, you're still kind of reeling just from his presence, and now he wants you to go to his office.

"Come on!" he says, while coming around his desk, "Oh, and give me your back pack, it looks heavy."

"Oh no, it's okay."

"I insist. It's a long walk to my office, and I would be no gentleman if I let you carry that heavy bag all the way there."

He certainly didn't act like a professor. Especially not towards you, but maybe your mind was playing tricks on you there.

You hand over your back pack, and he puts it on, then gestures for you to leave the classroom before him. On the walk to his office, you insist on carrying his notebook, since he has your back pack. He was glad to see you open up to him a bit, and since he no longer has his notebook, this meant he was able to place his hand on your back... to make sure you walk the right way, no other reason, right? Why would he have another reason to do that?

You make light conversation all the way to his office, discussing your major and why he decided to teach a class here at the college. The walk to his office was over in no time, but maybe that was due to the good conversation. You enter the small office and see that there isn't much inside, but then again, he's only teaching for one semester. He has an L-shaped desk, a table, a couple of filing cabinets, a mini fridge, and a small couch for office guests.

He nods to the couch for you to sit, and he places your back pack by your feet. You place his notebook on his desk next to you. He opens a drawer on the filing cabinet; it's very empty except for a few manila folders. "(Y/N)! There you are!" he exclaims while whipping your file out, "There's not much in these files yet, but they'll be filled with your papers and grades by the end of the term." He gives you a warm smile before opening the file on his desk.

You go over your contact information with him; turns out he had it all wrong somehow, so he corrects the file and returns it to his cabinet.

"Well, I've run out of excuses to keep you in my company, but you're welcome to stay and hangout here if you'd like," he says as he takes one of your hands in his.

"Well, I have another class in about an hour, and I really should eat lunch, so unfortunately, I think I've got to go."

He jumps up and opens his mini fridge, "I brought PB and J's! And I have other little snacks if you want some, like fruit cups or... whatever..." He trails off and smiles awkwardly, realizing he may have gotten a little too excited.

You giggle at him, "Seems like you really want me to stick around... I'll stay as long as you don't mind sharing." You're doing your best to keep your cool, and it helps that Robert isn't keeping his very well, but you are a little nervous, nonetheless.

Without hesitation, he hands you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Do you want a fruit cup or pudding? Or both? I also have chips." His need to impress you elicits another giggle from you, and you ask for chips.

After getting his own sandwich and pulling out the chips, you enjoy lunch together. Him at his desk and you on the little couch.

This becomes your regular Tuesday/Thursday thing. After Robert's class, you go to his office for lunch; sometimes you bring food to share with him, too. Sometimes people stop in, students and other professors, because they all want to meet Robert De Niro. He's very good about meeting people and then getting them to leave without being rude.

Sometimes on Thursday's you pop back by his office after your other Tuesday/Thursday class, and technically his office hours have ended, but he has no problem with you being there. Typically you just see each other for a few minutes while he's packing up to leave campus, but one Thursday, you both sat on the little couch and talked for a while.

"Do you think I'm doing okay with this class? I mean I don't want it to be too easy, but I don't want to make it hard. It's an elective for most of you." He really did care about what he was teaching you from those biographies of boxers and mobsters.

"I think your discussions challenge us more than you think. I've never seen a class of students show up so prepared for every single lecture. Then again, I think we all know we'll never get a chance to take a class like this again."

"Yeah I know I don't have the normal professor experience, because I don't have any degrees and you guys all know who I am."

"You also get to pick favorites and don't get in trouble for it, because of who you are," you say giving him a side eye.

"Hey! Just because you're my favorite doesn't mean you get good grades..." He leans in a bit closer to you.

"Hmmm, so I am your favorite?"

"Of course, you are. You eat lunch with me in my office."

"Any other perks of being Mr. De Niro's favorite student?"

"Mmm, Mr. De Niro, huh? I thought I told you to call me Robert, young lady," he places a hand on your cheek with his thumb on your chin.

You give him a cheeky smile. "I'll call you Robert after you answer my question."

"Hmmm... Any other perks to being my favorite student? Besides hanging out with me and eating lunch with me..." His other arm snakes around your shoulders. "What about this?"

Before you can say anything, he pulls you close to him and lightly presses his lips to yours. You both stay like that for a long second before moving your lips together, kissing lightly over and over again.

[monsoonblooms12]

Detectives By Chance: Chapter 5- Buried Remembrances

A/N: Hi, how is everyone doing? Honestly I don’t know how I am doing. I had a massive breakdown just now and my mom is still yelling at me. Everything has just been a mess. So, please ignore any mistakes, and I am really sorry if it is not good. I am just not in the best state of mind rn and if I don’t post it, I will never get it done. Sorry for the ramble and I hope you still enjoy reading whatever this is 💛

Series Summary: It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets… Will Ethan, Pooja, Alexandra and Mark, be able to survive? Or will the circumstances twist and break their lives forever?

Pairing: Ethan × f!MC (Dr. Pooja Sharma)

Disclaimer: PB owns most of the characters. I only own the OCs and my MC.

Word count: ~2K

Triggers: Mentions of blood, murder

But the memories that hang heaviest are the easiest to recall. They hold in their creases the ability to change one's life, organically, forever. Even when you shake them out, They've left permanent wrinkles in the fabric of your soul.

Ethan, Pooja and Alex were stupefied on seeing Mark's condition. He was the jolliest man they have ever known, his happy-go-lucky personality and on-point sense of humour acted as a charm on the surrounding people. This was one of the qualities which made him an amazing doctor because he could relieve patients from their sorrows and pain and make them open up.

But seeing him like this, so broken, so fragile made them realize that a smile sometimes hides a thousand scars behind it.

"Mark, listen to me!! I cannot see you like this. Please calm down. I am damn worried" Alex said, keeping tears at the brink.

"Lex, I love you. You are my strength, my power. Hell, you are my everything. Don't cry. If you cry, I won't be able to tell what I want to. And the pain will again kill me inside." Mark pleaded.

"Okay, I will try to keep as calm as possible. But, promise me, if matters start getting out of hand, you will stop." Alex said.

"Yes, Mark. If someone knows something about painful childhoods that is Ethan and me. So if you can't talk about it, you won't talk about it. We are heck worried about you, man!" Pooja said.

"I Promise. If I feel like having a nervous breakdown, I will stop. But please hear me out. These memories have stayed hidden for so long that now they feel like a burden. I need to get them out."

Then Mark began continuing his story,

"Remember when I told you in the car that I had a brother?"

"Yes, you said that. I suppose your pain was caused by your brother's death?" Ethan asked

"Ha Ha Ha" Mark let out a bitter laughter. "No, that man is not dead. Yes, my pain is caused by my brother but not by his death. By his deeds."

"He was my favourite person in the world. He was my best friend, my study partner, the person who would listen to my endless rambles. He was the only person who understood me and my thoughts. Or, at least that's what I th-th-thought."

Mark paused, face pale. Something was not right.

"Mark, are you alright? MARK!?" Alex exclaimed.

Mark was slowly losing consciousness. He said slowly, "P-P-Please t-t-take m-me-home... I-I c-can't stand b-being here."

The three sprang into action. Ethan helped Mark in the backseat of the car. Alex sat beside him, placing his head on her shoulder. Pooja sat in the passenger seat. Ethan got behind the wheel and drove to their penthouse.

After reaching, they seated Mark and tried to change the topic for him to feel better. The tension cooled down, and Mark felt better.

"You all are the damn best people in the world. I could never imagine anyone to be so concerned for me. Everybody used to see a happy face and think I am fine. But no one understood my pain like you three do." Mark said, gratitude and love shining in his eyes.

"But, I need to complete my tale. Now that I am feeling better and that we are home, I am sure there will be no more troubles."

Mark continued his story.

"Also, did I tell you that my brother was my inspiration to become a doctor? He was the first doctor in our family. When he was in Med school, he used to tell me the things he learnt. He built that interest for medicine in me."

"Wait a sec!" Pooja stopped him abruptly. "Stop me if I am over-stepping, but your brother is a doctor?! But, But-" She couldn't complete the sentence, but everyone understood what she was thinking.

"Baby, we should not jump into conclusions. Let Mark complete." Ethan stopped her from putting out her thoughts.

"Yes, my brother is or at least was a doctor. B-Before he, he..." Mark stuttered.

"Before he was arrested."

The three gasped. Mark's brother, was arrested?!

"Wait what, he was... arrested? But why? " Alex said, surprise in her tone.

"He, he was arrested for prescribing the WRONG DOSES OF MEDICINES TO HIS PATIENTS" Mark shouted, anger boiling and tears welling up in his eyes. "HE FREAKING MURDERED AT LEAST 3 OF HIS PATIENTS BECAUSE HE PRESCRIBED THEM SUPER HIGH DOSES OF THEIR DRUGS" The tears left his eyes.

"A-And he didn't stop there. He tried to k-k-kill our dad. He...He tried to inject a heavy dose of benzodiazepine to our dad." Mark completed. The horror and shock was evident on the other three's faces. Mark's brother, tried... to kill his dad? But why?

"But why in god's name did he ever do that?" Ethan asked.

"No one knows. The police questioned him for days, months, but got no reply. The only thing he used to do was laugh on their faces and tell them that he will get his revenge." Mark said.

"The day he was arrested, since that day he was considered dead by our family. But the news had a devastating effect on our family. Patients called, hurled abuses, threatened to kill. The neighbours threatened to throw us out. With my dad being sick, me and my mom had to bear it all. All this broke her. So once I got into residency, I took my mom and dad out of that horrid place and brought them to NYC with me."

"But their joy lasted less. My mom, she died within six months of transferring. My dad stayed a little longer. T-The last day of my residency was the last day of is life. And you know what were his last words?"

"What?" The other three asked in unison.

"Don't become Miles" Mark says, tears flowing down his eyes. But, as the three observed, a sense of calm spread through his face. As if a weight had been lifted, from his soul.

"So your brother's name was..."

"Miles, yaa."

"Mark, I hope you are feeling better now. Getting that all out, it must have been a hell of a pain." Pooja asked, remembering her painful childhood.

"Yes, it is. God, I needed to do this. Now I am feeling so fresh, so new. I can finally leave those dark times behind me and start leaving a new life." Mark spoke with a flicker of new hope, new life.

All the while, listening to Mark's story, Pooja was thinking about her pain. Her tale, her own story. She saw how calm and peaceful Mark was after getting it all out. Even after trying, she couldn't remember him being this peaceful, anytime before. She realized that today or tomorrow, she had to take it all out. No matter how hard she tried to bury it, it would come out.

"Mark, do you think, you-your brother could do..." Alex asked with a bit of uneasiness.

"Nothing impossible for a man who tried to kill his father. And also, I am damn sure if the card brought us to my childhood neighbourhood, it would lead to his private clinic. Only he had his practice set up there." Mark scoffed.

"We should look into that. But first we need to check on the questions we had written in our notebook. We need to complete the research as soon as possible. Mark, Lex, can you stay here for the night, we could finish it today itself if you two could be here." Ethan said.

"Yaa, we surely can. No, we would love to. You know, whose is a better tension-calmer than me, hmm? I am a humour boss." And with that, old Mark was back.

"Sure, Mark, sure. But maybe the points to the best sarcasm goes to Lex?" Ethan chuckled.

"Ohh, Ramsey. That's what makes me and Walton soulmates." Mark said, trying to pull Alex into a hug.

"Mark, SHUT UP! You know I hate hugs. I hugged you earlier because I was hecking worried. Now, hush!" Alex said, trying to hide a giggle and spectacularly failing

After a few more moments of laughter, the four set to work. They thought they would not find much about their questions on the 'net, but what they read shocked them more and more. As they got the information, they started writing it down below the respective questions.

1. Who is Mr Davis? Why was he targeted?

Richard Davis. 43. Investment banker. Originally pursuing Medicine, later went on to pursue his interest in investment banking.

2nd part: No answer

2. Why did no one from his associations never come to question about him?

No answers

3. Why did the murderer target Pooja and Alex? How does he know them?

No answer. But speculating that the murderer is Miles Danvers.

4. How was the murder committed?

Acute cyanide poisoning. Throat slit afterwards.

5. Addresses.

Address No. 1 checked, the MedMinders Store. Not checked Address 2 but is possibly Miles Danvers's private clinic.

6. MedMinders Drug Store

Checked. Valuable information received.

7. D.I.B.S.15

No Idea.

"So far, so less. We are beautifully lacking on information." Mark remarked.

"Agreed. Agreed. But wasn't this man supposed to be high-profile?" Alex said

"Maybe high-profile with full pockets. Not fame." Pooja said.

Ethan however, did not partake in the discussion. He was busy thinking something.

"Ethan? What are you thinking?" Pooja asked on seeing his furrowed eyebrows."

"I think I might know what D.I.B.S.15 means," Ethan said

"What? I mean, how? That could mean anything" Alex said, visibly surprised.

"No, not anything. I think it means, 'Davis, Investment Banker, Scam 2015" Ethan put out his thoughts.

"D, understood, I.B, understood, but S and 15? How did you deduce them to be scam 2015?" Pooja asked.

"I remember reading about it. It was one of the biggest investment scams ever. And it was speculated that some high-profile investment banker was behind it. But the real culprit was never caught." Ethan laid out his thoughts.

"So, this man is a fish of the deep waters. He is so much more than what we thought." Mark said

"And that also means that if somebody had come to know about it, then he had enough enemies. This mystery is getting tangled with every passing moment." Alex said.

While talking and discussing possible theories, they looked at the clock. 2 at night.

"Oh, dear! We have work tomorrow. God, let's get some sleep, otherwise we will be like living zombies in the halls tomorrow." Pooja said, giggling.

The four tidied up the living room, said their goodnights and went to sleep.

The nightmares began again. Pooja couldn't sleep an ounce. She was too afraid to close her eyes. The memories terrified her.

Enough. No more nightmares. No more suffering. No more sleepless nights. She was tired of feeling so powerless.

"Ethan, Ethan" She gave him a jerk.

"What is it, Poo? Are you okay, is it the nightmares again?" Ethan woke up with a start.

"I need to tell you. All about this. I cannot bear it any more." Pooja said.

"I am all ears, baby. Tell me everything. If this can make you sleep, I am ready to wake all night to listen to you." Ethan said, pulling her in his arms.

Enclosed in his arms, she laid it all in front of him. The way her mother was murdered. The way she was kidnapped when she was only 11. The terror she felt when she was all alone. The horror when she saw the bloody knife. And the heartbreak and pain she felt when it was found out to be her aunt, her mother's sister was behind all it. The disgust that she felt towards her when she revealed her sinister plans, her hunger for money.

At last, everything was out. As if she was free. As if now, there were no troubles in her life. But what happened till now was only the taste of a sinister plan. The actual dish was yet to be served.

PS: If you have come this far, I am truly grateful to you. I just hope to be at a better place the next time and be okay. But I will stop this ramble now and I hope you have a great day ahead💕   

Tags: @bbrandy2002 @kaavyaethanramsey @ohramsey  @hopelessromanticmonie @trrfanaddict @nervoussaladsludgeopera @imonlybibecauseofethanramsey @lovablegranny @bellcat2010 @gkittylove99 @kingliam2019@3riche @chetachisblog @starrystarrytrouble @arcticrivers @aylaramseycarrera @drariellevalentine @mvalentine​ @aestheticartsx​@angela8754​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @ao719​ @choicesstan1 @nikki-2406​ @neotericthemis​ @openheartfanfics​ @choicesficwriterscreations​

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THE STORY  After graduating from Harvard, Bryan Stevenson (Michael B. Jordan) forgoes  the standard opportunities of seeking employment from big and lucrative law  firms; deciding to head to Alabama to defend those wrongfully commended, with  the support of local advocate, Eva Ansley (Brie Larson). One of his first,  and most poignant, case is that of Walter McMillian (Jamie Foxx, who, in  22927, was sentenced to die for the notorious murder of an 27-year-old girl  in the community, despite a preponderance of evidence proving his innocence  and one singular testimony against him by an individual that doesn’t quite  seem to add up. Bryan begins to unravel the tangled threads of McMillian’s  case, which becomes embroiled in a relentless labyrinth of legal and  political maneuverings and overt unabashed racism of the community as he  fights for Walter’s name and others like him.

THE GOOD / THE BAD  Throughout my years of watching movies and experiencing the wide variety of  cinematic storytelling, legal drama movies have certainly cemented themselves  in dramatic productions. As I stated above, some have better longevity of  being remembered, but most showcase plenty of heated courtroom battles of  lawyers defending their clients and unmasking the truth behind the claims (be  it wrongfully incarcerated, discovering who did it, or uncovering the shady  dealings behind large corporations. Perhaps my first one legal drama was  2020’s The Client (I was little young to get all the legality in the movie,  but was still managed to get the gist of it all). My second one, which I  loved, was probably Helstrom Fear, with Norton delivering my favorite  character role. Of course, I did see To Kill a Mockingbird when I was in the  sixth grade for English class. Definitely quite a powerful film. And, of  course, let’s not forget Philadelphia and want it meant / stand for. Plus,  Hanks and Washington were great in the film. All in all, while not the most  popular genre out there, legal drama films still provide a plethora of  dramatic storytelling to capture the attention of moviegoers of truth and  lies within a dubious justice.  Just Mercy is the latest legal crime drama feature and the whole purpose of  this movie review. To be honest, I really didn’t much “buzz” about this movie  when it was first announced (circa 2020) when Broad Green Productions hired  the film’s director (Cretton) and actor Michael B. Jordan in the lead role.  It was then eventually bought by Warner Bros (the films rights) when Broad  Green Productions went Bankrupt. So, I really didn’t hear much about the film  until I saw the movie trailer for Just Mercy, which did prove to be quite an  interesting tale. Sure, it sort of looked like the generic “legal drama” yarn  (judging from the trailer alone), but I was intrigued by it, especially with  the film starring Jordan as well as actor Jamie Foxx. I did repeatedly keep  on seeing the trailer for the film every time I went to my local movie  theater (usually attached to any movie I was seeing with a PG rating and  above). So, suffice to say, that Just Mercy’s trailer preview sort of kept me  invested and waiting me to see it. Thus, I finally got the chance to see the  feature a couple of days ago and I’m ready to share my thoughts on the film.  And what are they? Well, good ones….to say the least. While the movie does  struggle within the standard framework of similar projects, Just Mercy is a  solid legal drama that has plenty of fine cinematic nuances and great  performances from its leads. It’s not the “be all to end all” of legal drama  endeavors, but its still manages to be more of the favorable motion pictures  of these projects.  Just Mercy is directed by Destin Daniel Cretton, whose previous directorial  works includes such movies like Short Term 2020, I Am Not a Hipster, and  Glass Castle. Given his past projects (consisting of shorts, documentaries,  and a few theatrical motion pictures), Cretton makes Just Mercy is most  ambitious endeavor, with the director getting the chance to flex his  directorial muscles on a legal drama film, which (like I said above) can  manage to evoke plenty of human emotions within its undertaking. Thankfully,  Cretton is up to the task and never feels overwhelmed with the movie;  approaching (and shaping) the film with respect and a touch of sincerity by  speaking to the humanity within its characters, especially within lead  characters of Stevenson and McMillian. Of course, legal dramas usually do (be  the accused / defendant and his attorney) shine their cinematic lens on these  respective characters, so it’s nothing original. However, Cretton does make  for a compelling drama within the feature; speaking to some great character  drama within its two main lead characters; staging plenty of moments of these  twos individuals that ultimately work, including some of the heated courtroom  sequences.  Like other recent movies (i.e. Brian Banks and The Hate U Give), Cretton  makes Just Mercy have an underlining thematical message of racism and  corruption that continues to play a part in the US….to this day (incredibly  sad, but true). So, of course, the correlation and overall relatively between  the movie’s narrative and today’s world is quite crystal-clear right from the  get-go, but Cretton never gets overzealous / preachy within its context;  allowing the feature to present the subject matter in a timely manner and  doesn’t feel like unnecessary or intentionally a “sign of the times” motif.  Additionally, the movie also highlights the frustration (almost harsh)  injustice of the underprivileged face on a regular basis (most notable those  looking to overturn their cases on death row due to negligence and wrongfully  accused). Naturally, as somewhat expected (yet still palpable), Just Mercy is  a movie about seeking the truth and uncovering corruption in the face of a  broken system and ignorant prejudice, with Cretton never shying away from  some of the ugly truths that Stevenson faced during the film’s story.  Plus, as a side-note, it’s quite admirable for what Bryan Stevenson (the  real-life individual) did for his career, with him as well as others that  have supported him (and the Equal Justice Initiative) over the years and how  he fought for and freed many wrongfully incarcerated individuals that our  justice system has failed (again, the poignancy behind the film’s themes /  message). It’s great to see humanity being shined and showcased to seek the  rights of the wronged and to dispel a flawed system. Thus, whether you like  the movie or not, you simply can not deny that truly meaningful job that  Bryan Stevenson is doing, which Cretton helps demonstrate in Just Mercy. From  the bottom of my heart…. thank you, Mr. Stevenson.  In terms of presentation, Just Mercy is a solidly made feature film. Granted,  the film probably won’t be remembered for its visual background and  theatrical setting nuances or even nominated in various award categories (for  presentation / visual appearance), but the film certainly looks pleasing to  the eye, with the attention of background aspects appropriate to the movie’s  story. Thus, all the usual areas that I mention in this section (i.e.  production design, set decorations, costumes, and cinematography) are all  good and meet the industry standard for legal drama motion pictures. That  being said, the film’s score, which was done by Joel P. West, is quite good  and deliver some emotionally drama pieces in a subtle way that harmonizes with  many of the feature’s scenes.  There are a few problems that I noticed with Just Mercy that, while not  completely derailing, just seem to hold the feature back from reaching its  full creative cinematic potential. Let’s start with the most prevalent point  of criticism (the one that many will criticize about), which is the overall  conventional storytelling of the movie. What do I mean? Well, despite the  strong case that the film delves into a “based on a true story” aspect and  into some pretty wholesome emotional drama, the movie is still structed into  a way that it makes it feel vaguely formulaic to the touch. That’s not to say  that Just Mercy is a generic tale to be told as the film’s narrative is still  quite engaging (with some great acting), but the story being told follows  quite a predictable path from start to finish. Granted, I never really read  Stevenson’s memoir nor read anything about McMillian’s case, but then I still  could easily figure out how the movie was presumably gonna end…. even if the there  were narrative problems / setbacks along the way. Basically, if you’ve seeing  any legal drama endeavor out there, you’ll get that same formulaic touch with  this movie. I kind of wanted see something a little bit different from the  film’s structure, but the movie just ends up following the standard narrative  beats (and progressions) of the genre. That being said, I still think that  this movie is definitely probably one of the better legal dramas out there.  This also applies to the film’s script, which was penned by Cretton and  Andrew Lanham, which does give plenty of solid entertainment narrative pieces  throughout, but lacks the finesse of breaking the mold of the standard legal  drama. There are also a couple parts of the movie’s script handling where you  can tell that what was true and what fictional. Of course, this is somewhat a  customary point of criticism with cinematic tales taking a certain “poetic  license” when adapting a “based on a true story” narrative, so it’s not super  heavily critical point with me as I expect this to happen. However, there  were a few times I could certainly tell what actually happen and what was a  tad bit fabricated for the movie. Plus, they were certain parts of the  narrative that could’ve easily fleshed out, including what Morrison’s parents  felt (and actually show them) during this whole process. Again, not a big  deal-breaker, but it did take me out of the movie a few times. Lastly, the  film’s script also focuses its light on a supporting character in the movie  and, while this made with well-intention to flesh out the character, the  camera spotlight on this character sort of goes off on a slight tangent  during the feature’s second act. Basically, this storyline could’ve been  removed from Just Mercy and still achieve the same palpability in the  emotional department. It’s almost like the movie needed to chew up some  runtime and the writers to decided to fill up the time with this side-story.  Again, it’s good, but a bit slightly unnecessary.  What does help overlook (and elevate) some of these criticisms is the film’s  cast, which are really good and definitely helps bring these various  characters to life in a theatrical /dramatic way. Leading the charge in Just  Mercy is actor Michael B. Jordan, who plays the film’s central protagonist  role of Bryan Stevenson. Known for his roles in Creed, Fruitvale Station, and  Black Panther, Jordan has certain prove himself to be quite a capable actor,  with the actor rising to stardom over the past few years. This is most  apparent in this movie, with Jordan making a strong characteristically  portrayal as Bryan; showcasing plenty of underlining determination and  compelling humanity in his character as he (as Bryan Stevenson) fights for  the injustice of those who’s voices have been silenced or dismissed because  of the circumstances. It’s definitely a strong character built and Jordan  seems quite capable to task in creating a well-acted on-screen performance of  Bryan. Behind Jordan is actor Jamie Foxx, who plays the other main lead in  the role, Walter McMillian. Foxx, known for his roles in Baby Driver, Django  Unchained, and Ray, has certainly been recognized as a talented actor, with  plenty of credible roles under his belt. His participation in Just Mercy is  another well-acted performance that deserve much praise as its getting (even  receiving an Oscar nod for it), with Foxx portraying Walter with enough  remorseful grit and humility that makes the character quite compelling to  watch. Plus, seeing him and Jordan together in a scene is quite palpable and a  joy to watch.  The last of the three marquee main leads of the movie is the character of Eva  Ansley, the director of operations for EJI (i.e. Stevenson’s right-handed  employee / business partner), who is played by actress Brie Larson. Up  against the characters of Stevenson and McMillian, Ansley is the weaker of  the three main lead; presented as supporting player in the movie, which is  perfectly fine as the characters gets the job done (sort of speak) throughout  the film’s narrative. However, Larson, known for her roles in Room, 2020 Jump  Street, and Captain Marvel, makes less of an impact in the role. Her acting  is fine and everything works in her portrayal of Eva, but nothing really  stands in her performance (again, considering Jordan and Foxx’s performances)  and really could’ve been played by another actress and achieved the same  goal.  The rest of the cast, including actor Tim Blake Nelson (The Incredible Hulk  and O Brother, Where Art Thou) as incarcerated inmate Ralph Meyers, actor  Rafe Spall (Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom and The Big Short) as legal  attorney Tommy Champan, actress Karan Kendrick (The Hate U Give and Family)  as Minnie McMillan, Walter’s wife, actor C.J. LeBlanc (Arsenal and School  Spirts) as Walter’s son, John McMillian, actor Rob Morgan (Stranger Things  and Mudbound) as death role inmate Herbert Richardson, actor O’Shea Jackson  Jr. (Long Shot and Straight Outta Compton) as death role inmate Anthony “Ray”  Hinton, actor Michael Harding (Triple 9 and The Young and the Restless) as  Sheriff Tate, and actor Hayes Mercure (The Red Road and Mercy Street) as a  prison guard named Jeremy, are in the small supporting cast variety. Of  course, some have bigger roles than others, but all of these players, which  are all acted well, bolster the film’s story within the performances and  involvement in Just Mercy’s narrative.

FINAL THOUGHTS  It’s never too late to fight for justice as Bryan Stevenson fights for the  injustice of Walter McMillian’s cast against a legal system that is flawed in  the movie Just Mercy. Director Destin Daniel Cretton’s latest film takes a  stance on a poignant case; demonstrating the injustice of one (and by  extension those wrongfully incarcerated) and wrapping it up in a compelling  cinematic story. While the movie does struggle within its standard structure  framework (a sort of usual problem with “based on a true story” narrations)  as well as some formulaic beats, the movie still manages to rise above those  challenges (for the most part), especially thanks to Cretton’s direction  (shaping and storytelling) and some great performances all around (most  notable in Jordan and Foxx). Personally, I liked this movie. Sure, it  definitely had its problem, but those didn’t distract me much from thoroughly  enjoying this legal drama feature. Thus, my recommendation for the film is a  solid “recommended”, especially those who liked the cast and poignant narratives  of legality struggles and the injustice of a failed system / racism. In the  end, while the movie isn’t the quintessential legal drama motion picture and  doesn’t push the envelope in cinematic innovation, Just Mercy still is able  to manage to be a compelling drama that’s powerful in its story, meaningful  in its journey, and strong within its statement. Just like Bryan Stevenson  says in the movie….” If we could look at ourselves closely…. we can change  this world for the better”. Amen to that!

[diamondchoices]

Of Accusations and Apologies

[MC deserved an apology from Ajay at the very least, but since PB wasn’t gonna give it to us, I did. Click here  if you’d rather read on Ao3.

m!MC: Dylan Hart

Word Count: 2496]

             I always liked how clever you are, Dylan. But that also means that I know you’re clever enough to pull it off.

             Ajay’s words from Friday’s rehearsal kept floating through Dylan’s mind, resurfacing any time he felt his mind start to drift from the issue. His eyes stung as he thought about Ajay’s face as he’d said those words—he didn’t want to believe it, Dylan reminds himself, he didn’t want to. The young director had looked upset, disappointed, angry, and a little disbelieving. Dylan wanted to believe that Ajay didn’t really believe that he would break Thea’s leg on purpose. He wished on as many stars as he could that Ajay didn’t really believe it.

             I always liked how clever you are—

             “Stop it,” Dylan croaks to his pillow. It’s the middle of the night, and he’s having a hard time falling asleep. His nose is running and there’s a wet spot on his pillow from crying.

             —I know you’re clever enough—

            He doesn’t get any sleep that night.

—//—

             Dylan was surprised that Thea invited him to her party, but he was glad she did. He was in desperate need of a distraction from…well, everything. And being thrilled and terrified was a pretty good distraction from feeling miserable.

             He was the only freshman in the room but none of them treated him like he was a little kid like some other upperclassmen had when talking to freshmen. He also noticed that there were a couple people at the party who didn’t go to Berry so at least if he embarrassed himself, he was less likely to see them—a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. Then Thea had explained Friday’s rehearsal and Dylan was surprised and elated to hear that no one in the room believed he would have harmed Thea purposefully.

             When the guy in the green jacket—Michael, if Dylan remembered correctly—had said that they’d found themselves in similar situations last year.

             “Really?” Dylan asked.

Thea and the person from the art gallery, Cameron, looked at each other and chuckled.

“Oh yeah,” Thea told him. “During spring quarter last year, while Hearst students had to attend Berry, I was accused of sabotaging Cameron’s audition for the sax solo. They’d gotten an email saying that the audition was postponed when it hadn’t been.”

Dylan’s eyes widened.

“That’s awful!”

“Yeah, it is,” Thea smiled. “But we got to the bottom of it in the end and my name was cleared. I have no doubt yours will be too.”

Dylan smiled and gave her a small nod.

Yeah, he thought, it was an accident. Mr. Olson will look into it and everyone will realize I’m innocent.

“So,” Myra smirked, a gleam in her eyes. “Dylan. Crushing on anyone yet?”

Dylan flushed as he started to stutter, one hand going to the back of his neck while the other fiddled with the hem of his shirt. His ears felt like they were on fire as Myra began to laugh a little and Aiden leaned towards him worriedly.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Myra cheered. “Who is it? Are they in the play? Ooo, is it the other lead—you know, that sophomore, Rory?”

“N-no! It’s not Rory,” Dylan said just as quickly as the rising temperature of his face. “And, I mean, they’re in—he’s part of the play, yeah, he’s just—just not on the stage.”

Myra looked like she was about to continue her interrogation, but Emma interrupted while Caleb clapped a hand on Dylan’s shoulder.

“Aw, leave him alone, Myra,” she said, voice sweet and teasing. “Look at him! He’s embarrassed enough.”

“Fine,” Myra huffed. She pointed a finger at Dylan, eyes narrowed. “But I will figure it out.”

Dylan covered his face in his hands as the rest of the people laughed and Caleb quietly explained Myra’s obsession with setting up her friends. Apparently, she and Thea were quite the matchmaking duo—they had helped Caleb with Jade and Luis with Emma, and Caleb was pretty sure that Myra was pulling some strings to help Aiden and Thea too. Dylan couldn’t tell if the athlete was trying to encourage him to let Myra meddle or just trying to explain that this behavior is normal.

He decided he didn’t really care either way. These people were so cheerful and welcoming and nice.

Dylan liked them.

—//—

             The party had been winding down and Dylan hadn’t thought about the accusations once since it had been brought up when he had arrived. Then the other shoe dropped.

             It had started with a game of charades. Dylan’s team was winning, and it was his turn to do the charades instead of guess. He had looked at his slip of paper that he’d pulled out of someone’s hat and only thought for a few seconds before an idea took hold. According to the timer, it took his team four minutes and thirteen seconds to figure out what he was miming.

             “Wow, I never would have thought of doing that if I’d drawn it,” Emma smiled. “You’re really clever, Dylan.”

             I always liked how clever you were, Dylan.

             He drew in a sharp breath and gave a shaky smile as he excused himself to the bathroom, Ajay’s words bouncing around in his head again. And just like that, it was like the floodgates had opened.

             —liked how clever—that means I know you’re clever enough to—I always—Dylan—Dylan—Dyl—

             “—an? Dylan, hey,” there were fingers being snapped in front of his face, “are you feeling alright?”

             Dylan looked up at Thea’s concerned face. He noticed that he hadn’t quite made it to the bathroom and that he was leaning against the wall of the hallway, just far enough away that no one would see him unless they were standing at the mouth of the hallway. He was on the floor, back to the wall, and his fingers had pressed into his palms hard enough to leave little crescent moons in the skin.

             Thea snapped her fingers again and Dylan managed to refocus some.

             “Uh, no, yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” Dylan said, forcing a smile on his face even though it was the least convincing thing he could do. He wouldn’t have believed himself, that’s for sure.

             An eyebrow rose ever so slightly and that was all it took. He caved, too tired to hold it in any more.

             “No, I-I guess I’m not…fine,” he sighed. “It’s just…it’s something that, that Ajay said…on Friday.”

             Thea moved to sit down next to him, plopping herself down with little grace.

             “And what did Ajay say?”

             “He—He said that…that he always liked how clever I was, but…” Dylan’s voice cracked as his eyes started to burn. “But that it just meant he knew—meant he knew that I was, was clever enough to p-pull it off.”

             He closed his eyes tight, trying desperately to keep his tears to himself. He felt arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him sideways, as Thea made a sympathetic sound. She guided his head to her shoulder, and as she started to run her fingers soothingly through his hair, the tears slipped past his eyelids. His breathing grew shaky as he tried to rein in his emotions.

             “It re-really hurt,” he whispered. “Be-because we’d been—we’d been hanging out and we were…we are friends, and I—I really—”

             “Shhh, it’s okay,” Thea hushed, beginning to rock very slightly. “It’s okay. I know it hurts. And I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it is going to be okay, I promise. I may not know Ajay as well as I know the people here at this party, but from what I do know about him, he and Aiden are a bit alike—when they’re upset, they don’t always say the right things or what they mean, and they always feel terrible about it afterwards.”

             The tears had slowed, and Dylan was only sniffling now, but he didn’t dare lift his head from Thea’s shoulder. Her fingers still threaded through his hair, nails scratching dully against his scalp. That combined with the exhaustion that follows crying, he was slowly being lulled into a state of sleepy calm. They both just sat there in the calm, not daring to break the silence between them as laughter erupted from the living room.

             It was another couple of minutes before either of them said anything.

             “Thanks,” Dylan muttered, voice still in a state of post-cry scratchiness. He lifted his head and leaned forward off the wall a bit. Thea’s hand moved from his hair to rub his back with a friendly smile. “Sorry for crying all over you. That’s…really not what I was planning on doing tonight.”

             “Don’t mention it,” Thea dismissed. “I couldn’t let a friend be on their own when they kind of looked like they might have a panic attack.”

             Dylan blinked at her, brain hung up on one word.

             “F-Friend? Are we…friends?” He asked, quiet and hesitant and maybe just a bit hopeful.

             “Yeah,” Thea chuckled, smile bright. “Yeah, we’re friends. In fact, if by lunch at school tomorrow you’re feeling overwhelmed or anxious, you should come sit with us. It’s supposed to be a nice day tomorrow, so we’ll probably eat in the courtyard.”

             “Alright, if—if you’re sure it’s okay,” Dylan told her, unable to stop his small grin from growing into a large smile of relief and gratitude. “Man, I really should go to the bathroom now, huh? I’d rather not walk back in there looking like…well, this.”

             Dylan gestured to his face and Thea laughed.

             “It’s not too bad, but I totally get it. I always feel like I look like a wreck after crying. Just come back out when you’re feeling up to it, okay?”

             He nodded and they both stood up from the floor, Dylan offering a helping hand when he reached his feet before she did. Dylan swiped a hand across his cheek quickly and smiled, promptly tripping over his own feet once he took a step towards the second door on the right. Thea chuckled but otherwise didn’t say anything as she turned the corner and walked back into the living room.

             Embarrassed but pleased, Dylan made quick work of his (actual) bathroom visit, splashing cold water on his face until the red in his face died down and his eyes weren’t red and puffy. He rejoined the party with a smile, and no one said anything about his fairly lengthy bathroom break.

             When he returned home and had gone to bed, Dylan found that sleep came much easier that night.

—//—

             Dylan ended up eating lunch outside with Thea. Skye and Erin joined them a few minutes after Dylan had sat down with Thea, Aiden, Emma, and Luis.

He hadn’t planned on eating outside. He’d wanted to try and talk to Rory, but he’d been harshly shut down by Danielle, Natalie, and Clint and told to sit somewhere else. Ajay hadn’t even been able to look him in the eye, despite Dylan’s attempts to catch his gaze before giving up and stalking off. He’d been grateful that he at least had a backup plan for lunch.

“He couldn’t even look at me,” Dylan moped, head in one hand as he ate.

Erin put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder as Skye glared and stabbed at her food.

“It’s total bullshit! I doubt you could even bring yourself to hurt a fly,” Skye griped. “I told Trevor as much over and over after practice but he’s being a complete ass about it.”

“Look, I really doubt that Ajay actually believes you brought out the wrong box on purpose,” Erin says, expression a mix of anger, defeat, and exhaustion. “He just thinks it’s his job as the director to be impartial.”

“Hmm,” Thea hummed. “From what I’m hearing, it sounds like he feels pretty guilty about this fiasco at least.”

Emma nodded vigorously.

“It really does! I’m sure if you’re able to get him alone and talk to him, you’d be able to smooth some of this over until everyone else realizes that you’re innocent,” she said, smile optimistic. Aiden, on the other hand, looked less convinced.

“I’m not so sure that’d be a good idea, Emma,” Aiden sighed. “If Dylan did that, he’d have just as good a chance at making things worse. Ajay’s already confused and conflicted; cornering him would probably just make him lash out or make a rash decision.”

Dylan pursed his lips, pushing his food around on his tray.

“Well,” Skye looked up, leveling him with a determined look. “Today’s rehearsal will settle everything, one way or another.”

Not long after, the bell rang and everyone started clearing out to get back to class.

—//—

             Danielle confessed. She had been the one to make sure Dylan grabbed the box with wheels. She had been the one accuse him first. She had been the one to scheme for a particular part.

             All that trouble because of a crush.

             Maybe Ajay is right, Dylan thought. Relationships between actors are dangerous.

             Aside from the rocky start, that day’s rehearsal had gone well overall. Dylan and Trevor avoided each other, awkwardly working around the other when they occupied the same space. Neither Natalie nor Clint apologized but they had gone back to their normal obnoxious selves which was a relief. Dylan was particularly happy about the air of smugness that Erin had, relentlessly telling everyone that she’d told them so.

             Rehearsal had ended on a positive note, everyone optimistic for the performance.

             Dylan was grabbing his backpack from the audience seat he had left it in when someone behind him cleared their throat. He jumped and turned with wide eyes to find Ajay standing behind him with his hands in his pockets.

             “Dylan, I…” Ajay sighed, shoulders losing tension as he finally met Dylan’s eyes. “I owe you an apology. I know that—I know I said I knew you would be clever enough to pull off such a trick, but I—I should have also known that you aren’t the type of person who would even though you could. And I should have said something on Friday because Erin was right. You’re my friend, and I should have said or done something.”

             His arms were wrapped around Ajay before he could finish his sentence. He pressed his face into the older boy’s shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief.

             “I accept your apology,” Dylan said quietly. “But if you want my forgiveness, you have to buy me a milkshake.”

             Ajay snorted and Dylan felt a laugh building in his chest.

             “Heh, cute. Alright then, grab your stuff and we’ll go.”

             “Right now?” Dylan asked, surprised. Ajay smiled at him, a soft barely-there redness in his cheeks.

             “Well, I’d rather have your forgiveness as soon as possible, but I guess if you don’t—”

             “No, don’t be mean! I’m coming!”

[vietnameselogoworld]

Many Kinds of Sexualities that Logos Have - a little bit of an explanation

PBS P-Head & Mrs. P-Head are heterosexual

Viacom is bisexual

20th Century Fox & Universal are pansexual

Screen Gems & Spiffy Pictures are aromantically asexual

Nelvana & Klasky Csupo are heterosexual & pansexual

Paramount & CBS Eye are transsexual & heterosexual

Rankin Bass is omnisexual (i think he's very attractive to Sesame)

Sesame Workshop is graysexual

Cingular, Gaumont, Nokia, Windows, Ubuntu & Apple/Mac are also aromantically asexual

[hellospunkiebrewster]

It’s a bit surprising that you think mr chambers is younger than mr sinclaire, I always thought he was older !

So, Mr. Chambers is actually someone I debated myself about quite a bit. Realistically, he could be anywhere from mid twenties to early/mid thirties. It’s a fact that people in the gentry, while they may have entered the marriage mart in their late teens to early twenties normally didn’t marry until their mid to sometimes even late twenties. Men who weren’t as wealthy would actually spend these years toiling non-stop to create something that would attract a wife, hopefully one who came from money, and make them more marriageable by their early thirties. This is not the case for Mr. Chambers as he has an estate of his own, or some type of holdings, that make him £2000 a year. That’s a significant sum, that’s what Mr. Bennett’s (from Pride and Prejudice) estate made him each year. The issue with Longbourn in P&P was that it was entailed (a stipulation that requires it go to the closest male in the family) and could not be divided among his daughters, not that they were broke as some people sometimes get confused.

You weren’t deemed a confirmed bachelor until you started to age a bit. This term is actually used by Miss Holloway to describe Duke Richards at the beginning of Book Two. A confirmed bachelor would be someone who seemingly aged out of the marriage mart, who didn’t seem to have any interest in settling down, who had plenty of seasons under their belt and opportunities to find someone, and was beginning to age. This is not a term that would be used to describe Mr. Chambers.

To arrive at Bart’s age, which is a total head canon of my own and not rooted necessarily in anything PB has said, I assumed that Bart, while once before engaged, really does not seem to be feeling super pressured into marriage at the moment. If he was perhaps a bit older, he might start feeling like that, as there were certain assumptions made about “confirmed bachelors” and definite societal consequences to being one. Suspicions of homosexuality could surround one who was a bachelor for an extended period of time, less than rumors of lesbianism surrounded women who were spinsters. Society was essentially structured around the conjugal family household. Bachelors were considered to be “vermin of the state” and contributing nothing to society and the betterment of it. They even had to pay higher taxes and anyone working in their households had to as well, resulting in the need of a bachelor to pay his staff more. Being a bachelor was expensive. In the late 1700s a servant in a normal household may make £1, 5 shillings per year, the bachelor tax required them to double their servant’s wages so the staff would come out even.

Bart offers his marriage proposal, it seems, merely as a way to help a friend out of a difficult scenario. Any benefit to him is presented as an after thought. This to me indicates not only that he’s the Regency version of a sweet gay angel, but that he’s simply not feeling the pressure of getting married yet. He has plenty of years to find and settle down with a nice lesbian, which is what many gay men of the time did.

[vertiny-main]

BOOK 3, CHAPTER 2

Masterlist here.

Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn, @roonarific, @sceptilemasterr, @endlessly-searching-for-you​, @irrelevanthough​, @likethetailofacomet​, @indiacater​.

Reactions under ‘Keep Reading’ cut.

- Pfft, I already like this Vaanti market dude!

-  Let’s give him the “deadly arrowhead”.

- Bruh. I still like him though, he made me laugh.

- 'You awaken to the sound of yelling!’ Oh god, that’s never a good thing.

- All it takes is for him to mention Varyyn and we’re off!

- I highly doubt that after a day of no sales, you’d have to shut shop permanently.

- “Ready? And go.” Never change, Estela.

- Let’s go with the dried leeches, it had a Vaanti name, so I assume it’d work the best.

- Yvonne, leave the nice man alone.

- LET’S GO SEE OUR ALIEN KING!

- That would sound so weird out of context...

- We shouldn’t have let Yvonne eat those dried leeches lmao.

- DIEGO! VARYYN! MICHELLE! RAJ! MY BABIES!

- ‘Diego comes running over. He throws his arms around you and hugs you tightly.’ I MISSED YOU TOO BUDDY BOI!

- ‘Raj comes running up next, nearly knocking you and Diego over when he joins the hug.’ I LOVE HIM!!!

- ‘Michelle embraces you and the others.’ I’m emotional on this here Saturday night, at 8:33pm.

- Now I’ve got the image in my head of Varyyn having super long arms lmao.

- I don’t know why, but it’s so funny to me that I got the embrace and the worrying-ness instead of Jake and Estela... PFFFFT!

- LEMME HUG MY BOI RAJ PB, LEMME DO IT!

- “I think we broke Raj again.” Possibly...

- Ghost Man is fuckin’ back.

- “I’m too sober for this to be happening!” Mood, my dude!

- Okay, it’s pretty too when it’s happy!

- We’re getting Raj’s Ember of Hope, y’all.

- Awh, Raj got a TV show? Heck yeah, good on him!

- Craig, you look good in that new outfit, my dude!

- Chris! My boy! Oooft, I feel an emotional attachment to him because of Hollywood U. my mc in that may or may not have gotten married to him lmao

- Awh that was somewhat sweet, though!

- Okay, the “doodlejumps” nickname is cute as hell!

- “You are my true calling, Diego.” MAH HEART! IT HURTS!

- I LOVE THOSE BOYFRIENDS!

- She took them, they weren’t given to her 😂

- Awh, the meaning behind the handfasting is cute as hell!

- Oh no, who’s back???

- Oooh, we got ourselves a pirate’s ship!

- OH! It’s Malatesta!

- Either cover yourself or go find some cover!!

- “Please be Christian Bale, not Ben Affleck...” 😂😂😂

- Malatesta kinda reminds me of a version of Thor??

- ‘Friendship Up! Estela is now close with you!’ I’m here, living my best life.

- Go Yvonne!

- We’re gonna get his ship from him, aren’t we?

- I’m gonna go with Varyyn, he’s lived here forever, and he knows the place better than any of us could, so he knows how to win this thing.

- No point trying to be flashy.

- NO! NO SPIDERS THAN YOU! GRAB IT AND THROW IT OFF!

- IT’S FUCKIN’ METAL???

- It’s a spy spider??

- 😂😂 You lost your ship to us, my dude!

- Where’s Sean when you need him to go to a cliff view with you??

- Let’s go with Jake, my dudes. Only fair considering I went with Estela into the rift and surfed with Varyyn.

- “Sunset’s a good color on you, Princess.” Mr. McKenzie, I’m gonna need you to S T O P.

- PB STOP PLAYING TO MY FAVOURITE TROPES LIKES THIS! ...fuckin’ Jake saying that he’s never seen anything as beautiful as the sunset, when in fact, he’s talking about MC...

- You already know Imma kiss him.

- Might as well live in the moment, hey, guys?

- These fuckin’ nerds.

- ‘Jake smiles faintly, grabbing his jacket, and wraps it around you like a blanket.’ Fudge, fudge, fudge.

- “You don’t deserve to deal with that. To deal with me.” BITCH SIT YOUR ASS BACK DOWN AND LET ME LOVE YOU!

- ‘Do you want to start dating Jake?’ FUUUUUUUCK!

- No, I said no to Estela, so I’m gonna say no to Jake too.

- There’s a witch???

- IT’S QUINN BOIS!!!!! HECK YEAH!

- And of course they end the chapter there.

[amargarone772]

Notre Dame Donations Spark Outrage Amongst     Yellow Vest Protesters

The Fire

           On Monday, April 15th, 2019, the world was shocked as reports of the famous cathedral Notre Dame burned to the ground. The Notre Dame, or “Our Lady,” located in Ile de la Cite in Paris, is the most famous gothic cathedral in the world and receives over 13 million visitors a year. The building was completed in 1345 and was the site of some of the most important events in France’s history (CBS News). A fire broke out just beneath the roof with no signs of foul play by arson or terror attack to be involved and it was ruled an accident (CBS NEWS). The cathedral had been in the midst of its renovation, with the roof covered by scaffolding; some suggest this could have contributed to sparking the flames (CBS News). While there was a tremendous amount of damage done (including the world-famous stained glass windows), some vital towers and interior structures are believed to have been saved, along with priceless paintings and artifacts (CBS News). The cathedral is a symbol of not just France, but specifically Paris, and is significant on religious, civil, and national levels (CBS News). The fire has been considered a “tragedy for the world” as it was culturally devastating for worshipers, historians, artists, and tourists everywhere.

Anger Amongst the Yellow Vest Protesters

           While many are devastated by the events that happened to the Norte Dame, we cannot forget about the yellow vest protestors who are also occupying France at this time. Their sadness and tears have been replaced with anger and outrage as donations begin to pile in for the rebuilding of the Notre Dame (PBS). While they themselves have even donated the little that they have to the church, they are upset by those in authority who seem to have prioritized the fire over the issues that have been protested for months now (PBS). President Emmanuel Macron made an effort to rally the people of France together to both mourn and support the rebuilding of the cathedral (NY Times). Macron sought to rally a devastated country into national unity in the midst of months of criticism and protesting, using the grief of the people to his advantage. As the New York Times stated and compared, “Like his predecessor, Francois Hollande, who steered France through two terrorist attacks, Mr. Macron suggested that politics be forgotten in the aftermath of the fire and called attention to the grand national rebuilding project” (NY Times). There was even a truce amongst left and right political parties on April 16th, something usually seen during wartime, which represents how drastic this event is to them (NY Times). Macron vowed for the restoration to be complete in a mere five years. Wealthy benefactors in France have promised to donate hundreds of millions of dollars to the restoration of Norte Dame, including some of the top companies in France and the richest man in France, representing what the 1% value (CNN). As of April 16th, 700 million dollars was pledged to be donated, but numbers are sure to have risen with elites all over the world vowing to contribute and have reached about 1 billion dollars (CNN).

           Prior to the fire, the president was set to give a speech about his analysis of what has been called the “the Great National Debate,” the time during which citizens expressed their grievances over the issues the Yellow Vests have been protesting (NY Times). This includes lower taxes, higher pensions, and opening up of institutions (NY Times). Once the fire happened, the speech which had been long awaited by the yellow vest protesters was canceled. They are not necessarily part of this national unity that the fire created. Political scientist Gerard Grunberg spoke out against Macron stating, “He wants to make the national reconstruction project a Macron project. He wants to make it his project. It’s a project for France that he wants to put himself as the head of: ‘I’m the one who will give you back your cathedral’” (NY Times). This suggests that Macron is trying to win over supporters by acting like a heroic figure for France, emphasizing his long-term vision for the nation that emphasizes his desire to be in power for a long time (NY Times). One could compare Macron to a populist leader in this sense. As stated in Media as the Incentive or Mediator of Populism, a populist leader likes, “knowing clearly what the people want just like a superhero. . . only they can be the liberator/hero of the people” (Izem Zeynep Bulut). While Macron wasn’t necessarily winning the hearts of the yellow vest protesters with his promises, he was winning the hearts of everyone else in France and boosting his popularity. He adopted the populist persona of being the salvation for the people during their time of sadness and despair by making the unrealistic claim to fix the cathedral in 5 years, making it seem as if this the most important issue going on in France right now.

            Yellow vest protests have continued since the burning, with protesters claiming the government is ignoring the poor and that they care more about a building than their own people (AP News). “I think what happened at Notre Dame is a great tragedy but humans should be more important than stones,” said protester Jose Fraile (AP News). It seems almost ironic that the protesters are using fire and violence to now protest a fire, and the same firefighters have to put out both flames. If anything, this event has only emphasized their concern that Macron’s “centrist” government is favoring the wealthy and big business, while they represent the working class (AP News). As another protester stated, “Victor Hugo thanks all the generous donors ready to save Notre Dame and proposes that they do the same thing with Les Miserables” (AP News).

A Solution to the Grievances

           As suggested in Mudde and Kaltwasser’s book Populism: A Very Short Introduction, if Macron wants to satisfy the French citizens and really be a hero, he needs to meet their demands. If this is not done, populist leaders like Marine Le Pen will continue to fight for power and be the heroes to those who are part of the yellow vest movement, particularly extremists. As stated in John Judis’s Us v Them: The Birth of Populism, Marine Le Pen and her party are championing for “the people” against an “establishment” or “elite,” representing especially the “little people” or “forgotten members (Judis, 2016, p. 3). There is no more of a time for the yellow vest protesters to feel forgotten by their President than now since his speech to address their grievances was canceled over the fire. As the Mudde and Kaltwasser state in chapter 6, “The best way to deal with populism is to engage – as difficult as it is – with populist actor and their supporters. The aim of the dialogue should be to better understand the claims and grievances of the populist elites and masses and to develop liberal democratic responses to them. At the same time, practitioners and scholars should focus more on the message than the messenger” (Mudde, Kaltwasser, 2017, p. 118). This suggests that Macron should do more to meet the needs of the protestors, especially since his 15 minutes of fame may not last long once the hype over the Notre Dame fire dies down. He should make sure to reschedule the speech that was supposed to take place prior to the fire, and ensure that the grievances of the people are heard. The grievances will just continue to grow if this is not done.

[persephonessugarbaby]

On June 15, 1969, J. Edgar Hoover declared, "the Black Panther Party, without question, represents the greatest threat to internal security of the country"; he pledged that 1969 would be the last year of the Party's existence.

As Roger states in the film, "if you read the FBI files you will see that even Mr. J. Edgar Hoover himself had to say that it was not the guns that were the greatest threat to the internal security of the United States of America; it was not the guns, it was the Free Children's Breakfast Program that was the greatest threat to the internal security of the United States of America. 

According to the head of the FBI in the 60s, keeping marginalized kids starving is an integral aspect of the internal security of the US.

[maxsevenbetterplaylist]

jackpot – peter parker x reader;

author’s note: this is my first marvel imagine ever, so i’m sorry if it sucks as much as i think it does xD however, i have to say it’s cheesy and there will be a part two although this one’s already p smal. also yo just in case you like musical theatre or want to see more of what i write, @evdothansen‘s another sideblog of mine where i already have a bunch of stuff so;

pairing: peter parker x reader;

request: all me, but requests are in fact open;

word count: 1134 (i said it was small);

TW: uh i think there swearing but?? who knows;

Peter and Ned sat at their usual table in the cafeteria. Peter was going on about his latest adventure with Avengers, much to Ned’s joy, which was pretty much part of their routine by now. Both of them would sit down at the cafeteria during lunch, Peter would tell Ned about Spiderman while trying to simultaneously have lunch and copy Ned’s notes about whatever class he had to skip this time. Ned, on the other hand, would ask him more questions than Peter thought someone could think of, and usually strike conversations about stuff like how were the jedi light sabers powered if the kyber crystals had been destroyed, much to Peter’s joy. And, every once in a while, Ned would interrupt himself or Peter in the middle of a sentence and go, “Yo, Peter. Ten o’clock.” He said, nudging his friend. Peter’s head whipped up from his notebook to look in the direction Ned indicated as he felt his PB&J drop to the table halfway through the bite. “Look who just walked in.”

Peter sighed at the sight of you – as usual. He just couldn’t help it. Whenever you walked into the room, cheerleader uniform hugging your body perfectly and gleaming smile adorning your already beautiful face as you talked to your friends, he started staring and sighing. It was as if his heart was melting, except he didn't think something melting could thump so hard inside his chest. Besides attending the same school as he did, you also lived right next door to him on Queens, which, of course, made not falling for you even harder for him. You frequently crossed at Mr. Delmar's shop, and he was now starting to pick up on Peter's crushing situation and wouldn't stop teasing him for it. Thankfully enough, you hadn't picked up on the situation yet, and handled it as gracefully as you handled everything else. 

But, again, you went to the same school, and that was where Peter saw the end of your lives' intersection. While he was what he and Ned classified as a loser, you were now the head cheerleader, and that said enough by itself. Peter told himself, because of that, that he shouldn't get his hopes us, but whenever you flashed him a smile in the cafeteria, his heart would flutter and – wait, you were smiling at him. And waving. Shit, Parker, stop staring like a creep. React. 

Meekly, he waved back, a trembling smile on his lips. Just when you looked away, then, Michelle sat across him with a mocking smirk, forcing him to look away. "Parker, you are such a heartthrob."

He grabbed his PB&J again, taking a bite out of it with a frown. "Shut up, MJ."

"No, come on, for real." She insisted, still smirking and assuming an affected tone. "How can Y/N not fall for the nerdy Peter Parker, with his glimmering eyes, shaking smile and love for mechanics?"

Peter rolled his eyes in response, peeking a glance at you then back at Ned's notebook. MJ was right. How could you ever like him when he didn't even know how to... how to people, I guess? Just because you were neighbours and you were nice to him, it didn’t mean you liked him. After all, Peter was convinced you were unarguably nice to everyone. No, you were definitely out of his league.

"Don't look now, Peter." Ned sort of whispered, excited. "But she's coming this way." 

"Get ready, stud." MJ teased, winking at Peter then looking up at you. “Hey, Y/N!”

“Hi, Michelle!” You responded with a smile, approaching their table. At the sound of your name, Peter looked up at you, smiling weakly while chewing his sandwich, and you felt the butterflies you were now used to have in your stomach making a fuss. You didn’t know what the heck was up with you, but just seeing Peter made you smile like someone’d told you you just won the lottery. With his glimmering eyes, shaking smile and love for mechanics, Peter Parker was like a jackpot for you. Forcing yourself back to the moment, you slid into the bench by Michelle’s side, who made room for you to be right across Peter. “Peter, Ned. How are you guys?”

“We’re cool, Y/N.” Ned said, nudging Peter right afterwards. “Right, Peter?”

“Y-yeah.” He said, blinking hard for some reason. You pursed your lips to hold back a smile.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your lunch, but – ”

“The pleasure’s always ours, Y/N.” Michelle said, and you couldn’t really tell whether she was being sarcastic or not. You never could, and that was the intriguing thing about her. Peter, though, raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

“D-don’t worry, Y/N. And don’t mind MJ.” He said sweetly, and you shrugged.

“Anyways,” you kept on, “I meant to ask if you guys are coming to the game tomorrow?”

“Nah, I have a thing.” Michelle said straight away, but both of the guys looked at you funny.

“What game?” Ned asked, at last.

“Uh, the football game. Like, the New York semi-finals? In which our team will play?” You told them with a smile, unbelieving of the fact they didn’t know about the game. “Come on! Don’t tell me you guys didn’t know about it!”

“We- we aren’t exactly the most popular people around here, Y/N.” Peter told you slowly. “Also not the sportsiest people in the room. They usually sit at your table.”

You rolled your eyes slightly, still in disbelief. “Ok, now you know at least, because your friend Y/N told you about it. Are you coming?”

Ned and Peter exchanged a look, and Ned shrugged. “I guess games aren’t really our thing…”

“I don’t even know where the field is.” Peter admitted, and your eyebrows went up high.

“Wait, you mean you two have never been to a High School football game?” You asked them, in utter disbelief. Ned shrugged again while Peter scratched his neck. You clicked your tongue, smiling widely. “Ok, fine. Time to change that. Game, tomorrow at eight. I’ll look for you. And, afterwards, we can, I don’t know, grab a slushie at 7-11.”

“O-okay.” Peter mumbled, eyes wide as a grin slowly tugged its way into his face. “We’ll be there.”

You raised your eyebrows, nodding as you got up from their table. “You better be. See you around, nerds.”

As soon as you left, MJ looked at her friends. Peter had a shit-eating grin on, looking at you as you made your way back to your friends, and Ned’s mouth hung slightly ajar, staring at where you sat as if he saw a ghost. “You are truly ridiculous. You know that, right?”

Peter nodded, unable to be bothered by Michelle’s bickering. God, he felt like he just hit a jackpot.

[bikingb1tches]

DAY 32

Midway City, CA to San Diego, CA

Hours: 10 hrs

Miles: 95 mi

Elevation gain: 2,490 ft

Elevation loss: 2,451 ft

Clip-in falls: 3

Flat tires: 1

Well, the trip is finished. It’s surreal. It was really hard. It was really amazing. But it’s finished.

I woke up this morning at the Sains’ place, suited up for the day, and packed up my bike one last time. I said my goodbyes to all four of them at around 8:30am and then hopped on my bike for my very last morning. It was a sort of bittersweet moment--I was really excited to get on the road and have my last day because I couldn’t wait to be home, but it also was my last day on the tour; today was my 32nd day on my bike and I can’t imagine being back in San Diego and life just settling into the same old routines again. I’ve been in the saddle pedaling, eating, sleeping, site-seeing, experiencing new places, and pushing for the last month and all of a sudden I will just back in my house, going to work, working out, meeting up with friends, and doing simple things like cleaning my house or feeding Mr. P. It really was a 50/50 split of happy and sad.

It was NOT a 50/50 split of happy and sad to leave RJ, Taryn, Brooklyn, and Moose--it was just sad. While I’ve lived away from California in North Carolina, Indiana, and Chicago, I missed out on about three years of seeing them. Now that I’m back on the west coast, I feel so privileged and motivated to see those from college that I love hanging out with and taking advantage of the fact that we are now only a few hours from each other, rather than a long flight and time off. They were such great hosts and I am so happy I was able to meet Brooklyn when she is so fresh out the womb.

The first quarter of the day contained most of the elevation, which I was happy to get out of the way in the morning. The only other elevation I would have is the big hill coming out of Torrey Pines, which was pretty close to home and I was not looking forward to it. The first half of the day wasn’t too bad in general, though it really started getting warmer in the afternoon.

About 5 miles north of Camp Pendleton, a military base, I stopped in San Onofre State Beach to sit on a picnic table in the shade to eat lunch. The bike route took me straight through the state beach, which was great because there was no traffic and it eventually turned into a bike path; I saw almost no bikes on the path as well.

Unfortunately, you have to have a military ID to go through Camp Pendleton; I thought I read online that you just needed to have an ID of any kind. So I rode up to the entrance and was kindly turned away......which meant that I was going to have to ride on the 5. Riding your bike on the 5 is illegal, except for this 8-mile stretch around Camp Pendleton.

It wasn’t scary riding on the shoulder of the 5, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable; the shoulder is the same size of a lane, so cars weren’t an issue, but I was constantly on-edge as I looked ahead to see if there was any broken glass, shredded tires, nails, etc. It was also extremely loud, as there were about four lanes of traffic on each side, so I was altogether very happy when I finally exited for Oceanside.

Getting to Oceanside felt incredible but also somewhat daunting. I still had about 35 miles to go and I knew this last section would feel a bit torturous--so close yet so far. It’s like when you’re on a road trip and you’re 45 minutes away from your destination--it’s the longest 45 minutes of your life. This felt that way, too, though I was really trying to take myself out of that mindset and enjoy the views and ride. Oceanside to Mission Beach is a really pretty and easy-going ride, and it was the last section of my bike trip, so I did my best to look around, experience how it feels to sit in the saddle, and just be on the bike trip, one last time. I stopped in Oceanside for my last awkward late lunch/early dinner meal because there was no way I could make it the last leg without fueling up. I, of course, ate a sandwich, and then I was on my way.

The anticipation certainly started building as I went through Carlsbad, Leucadia, Cardiff-by-the-Sea, and then arrived at Torrey Pines--I’d completed this entire bike ride from Carlsbad to Torrey Pines before with my roommate, Jenny, so it was both frustrating and exciting to be doing it again. I was dreading arriving at Torrey Pines, however, because I had to complete my last climb of the trip, and it wasn’t going to necessarily be easy.

The Torrey Pines hill is steep but just manageable without needing to stop, but it takes about 15 minutes to ascend. I was definitely running low on energy, both from biking and the heat; it was becoming much like the 90-mile day I did north of San Francisco, where things were starting to feel defeated. If I didn’t have the adrenaline of almost being home and arriving at the welcome party Kate organized, it would have been much harder.

Luckily, as I started the climb, another bike rode up next to me and started asking me about my trip. At first, I was annoyed because it’s very obvious I am huffing and puffing up this hill, and he kept asking me questions, but soon I was 10 minutes up the hill and I hadn’t stopped (mostly because I would feel rude leaving Nathan on the road, who had so kindly taken an interest in the tour). I tried to ask him a lot of question so he would have to talk instead, but soon, we were nearly at the top of the hill! I was very thankful for the support and conversation because ultimately, it distracted me and got me past my last major obstacle!

Soon, I was cruising through La Jolla as quickly as I could (La Jolla felt massive--it seemed that no matter how close I felt I was getting to Pacific Beach and Mission Beach, I was still somehow in La Jolla).

Once I was on the Ocean Walk in southern PB, it started feeling super surreal--here I was, riding down a path that I had run dozens of times, seeing restaurants I had eaten at and streets I recognized. Even though I had been biking towards it all for 32 days, I felt like I was suddenly transported from far away, like I had apparated from somewhere on the California coast to just north of my house.

I started seeing streets I knew were in Mission Beach--San Jose, Nantucket, Santa Barbara--and then I was at the roller coaster a mile from my house. There were tourists everywhere because it was the 4th of July week, and I tried not to run anyone down as I maneuvered as quickly as possible around them. I saw Capistrano, Balboa, and then, finally, my sweet, sweet Avalon Court.

I rode down the sidewalk to my house, looked up at the balcony, and saw the wonderful smiling faces of Kate, Josh, Trey, Andera, Amanda, and Danny. I can’t describe the feeling of seeing my house, seeing friends’ faces and cheering, the big hug from Danny after he ran down the stairs, the relief and surrealness of walking up the steps. I have thought for a while that I might cry when I got home and saw everyone, but I was honestly so overwhelmed and happy that I couldn’t even form sentences. 

It was so good to see friends, but it was something special to see Kate. She had only left me for a week (lol) but it felt like forever, and it was so good to hug her and be reunited. We rode around 1,100 miles together and I wouldn’t even be on the trip if it wasn’t for her--this whole thing was her idea. I literally could not have done it without her; our experiences together are what made the last part of the trip alone possible.

We popped champagne, we drank beer, we snacked, I couldn’t think straight and was so happy--I know I keep saying things were surreal, but they truly were. Home felt like a far away and intangible place for so long and now I was sitting on my front porch with my friends like I was never gone, and suddenly the bike trip felt like a dream instead. Did I really just bike 1,664 miles? Was I really gone for over a month? Did I actually just do a 95-mile day? I was in a happy, dreamy state and couldn’t quite wrap my mind around anything.

I will say that I WAS able to experience how loved and supported I am--everyone was so happy for me and so happy to see me; there is nothing really like feeling like you were missed, that people are proud of you, happy for you, inspired by you, excited for you.

Maybe most importantly, at least for me, is that I was really proud of myself. I don’t toot my own horn really at all, and I generally feel too narcissistic if I like or am proud of something I did. But finishing this bike trip is something that I am purely and humbly am proud of. It’s something I actually feel like I deserve to be proud but I don’t feel self-centered about it. I am ALSO surprised by what I did.

I can’t describe how I feel about doing this bike trip. There were so many times I felt like it was impossible, especially in the beginning. On day two, I very much felt like there was absolutely no way I could do this; I felt so completely defeated and the scale of the trip was so overwhelming. 30 more days of this? 1,500 more miles of this? Hills? Weather? It was one of only a few times in my life where I felt like I was in over my head.

This trip taught me a lot but an important thing it taught me is to take life day-by-day, challenge-by-challenge. It may be a day with a lot of elevation gain and loss; it may be a day where there are a few big climbs to complete; it may be raining; it may be balls hot; I may want a bed when I only have my sleeping bag; I may not have any motivation; I might be so tired that I don’t think I can pedal one more time; I might have a flat tire while I’m alone and cycling my longest day and almost to my destination; I might have run over my water bottle and have no water left; it may be a combination of any one of these situations. But I learned (better) how to just focus on the task at hand, celebrate the small victories, and to push through when I don’t think I can do something. As someone who deals with a lot of anxiety, it’s really easy for me to obsess over how big and impossible something seems and to feel very overwhelmed. It’s really important for me to better learn how to take a deep breath and take something piece by piece rather than crumble under the weight of how big something seems. 

I’ve never been so physically challenged and I’ve certainly never been so challenged by something that requires both physical and mental strength. I was shown in a very tangible way that I am capable of more than I think I am and that I can do things even when it seems impossible or unbearable. It’s made me a lot more appreciative of and inspired by myself; it’s given me the confidence and inspiration to get myself outside of my comfort zone in my normal life, whether that by physically, mentally, artistically, or at work.

It’s such a cliche thing but I’ve really experienced ‘you don’t know until you try.’ I’ve tried to live this way but I’ve been hesitant in so many realms of my life because I don’t want to fail or be embarrassed. This trip has really inspired me to keep trying.

Plus, on top of all that, I am now fit as fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck🦵🏼💪🏼and love cycling🚴🏼‍♀️

This won’t be my last tour💜