#avoid conformist

[nova-moon13]

[tyrannuspitch]

i want to dress like an ambiguously historical dandy but the only clothes i can find in a second hand shop that get me even 1% of the way away from not-that get me called "normcore". and i'm being SO fucking brave about it.

[anarcoqueer1994]

Eddie was going to tell them, he promised Steve he would. Its was easy to tell the apocalypse crew, kind of hard to keep things from a group of people you saved the world with. But telling Corroded Coffin about his new boyfriend was different. Not that they would care that he has a boyfriend. They've known he was queer for a while. What he was worried was who he was dating.

They had spent years in high school touting their superiority over the "conformist, arrogant sheep, and their leader King Steve." Except he had been to harsh, he had gotten to know Steve.... love Steve. And he was afraid if he told Corroded Coffin, not only would they rag on him, but they may say something horrible to Steve. But Steve said he didn't care, that he could handle it. He would "kill them with kindness." He just wanted to be open with Eddie with all their friend groups.

So Eddie promised he would tell. There was a little part of him, though, a superficial part of him, that cared a little more about what his friends think than he should. And so, even though he told Steve he would, he has been dragging his feet. Unfortunately, Steve does not know that. Eddie told a little white lie a few weeks ago that he told them, bringing the brightest, prettiest smile to his face. Eddie had planned to tell them soon after.

But he still hasn't, did not realize the mess he was about to make. Tonight they were having Hellfire at the Wheeler house. Dustin, Will, Lucas, Mike, Erica and the rest of Corroded Coffin were there.

Dustin mentions that Steve would be there soon to bring he, Lucas, Erica and Will home. That's when Garreth says "I still don't see why you guys like hanging out with that guy. He always seemed like an asshole to me." Jeff and Caleb nod their heads.

"He kind of is." Mike jokes. "But he's not a bad dude."

"Steve is cool, man." Dustin adds, obvious admiration in his face.

"Yea, Steve has always been really nice to us." Will smiles. "He is like another big brother." The rest of the party, including Erica, nod in agreement.

Erica gets a shit eating grin(not knowing Eddie has not told Corresed Coffin about he and Steve dating) "And he's cute, right Eddie?" The rest of the guys except Lucas and Will groan in response.

Eddie tries to play it off. "Yea, Harrington is hot. Anyone with eyes can see that."

"Well you must think he's extra hot since he's your...' before she can finish Eddie cuts her off. "I think we are at a good place to stop for tonight."

Everyone notices the quick way he cut her off. Everyone looks confused, even if the younger teens are for a different reason. Jeff speaks up. "What's Steve, Eddie?" He pokes.

"Steve is Steve." He shoots back avoiding the question, slight embarrassment creeping to his cheeks. He knows he should say more, tell them about his wonderful, adorable boyfriend. But maybe he ego is too big to admit he fell for the jock.

"What are you talking about?" Dustin speaks up.

"Why are you being weird?" Mike adds.

Suddenly a chorus of voices chime in, all asking questions. "What is Steve?" "Eddie, why are you being like this?" "Is something up with Steve?"

Finally over the loud voices from his old friends and new friends, he defensively says. "Steve is nothing!" His cheeks are red.

Unfortunately, over the chaos, they hadn't heard Steve come down the steps, having heard Eddie's proclamation. He had come a bit early, thinking Correded Coffin knew. He was carrying a plate of cupcakes, wanting to make a good impression during the first time seeing Correded Coffin as Eddie’s boyfriend.

But he was wrong. They didn't know, and Eddie had lied to him. It hurt. It's not like Eddie’s friends are homophobic, so Eddie was...ashamed to be dating him.

"I'm nothing?" Steve's voice causes everyone to look behind them. Steve looks devastated, like Eddie had just took his heart and stomped on it in front of everyone.

"Steve..." Eddie jumps up, trying to will time to rewind, but he can’t. He hadn't meant to say those terrible things.

But Steve is shaking his head, setting the cupcakes down, before bounding back up the steps.

All the "kids" including Mike, practically shoot daggers at Eddie as they leave, following after Steve.

Eddie is left sitting in the basement, with his three confused bandmates, feeling deflated, knowing he just fucked up the best thing in his life.

Part 2? Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list.

Tag list closed, part 2 here :)

[dandelionjack]

after nearly a decade of trying to Be The Bigger Person, Take The Higher Ground, “love trumps hate” and Kindness, the democrats have realised that nothing beats the dependable old art of ad-hominem jabs

that’s the thing with conservatives and other breeds of fash. you can’t get to them with civility. if you go on and on (with legitimate concerns, let it be said) about their human rights violations, their power-hungry scapegoating of minorities, their warmongering and hate-stirring, their ceaseless desire for control, they’ll keep taking it as a compliment. they LOVE being told that they’re successful oppressors. it means they’re doing their job right, it means they’re powerful, they’re strong and they’re winning. it’ll fall on deaf ears

that’s why the “weird” line of attack sent them into a tailspin. it’s so surface-level, so painfully middle-school-bully, targeting some kind of primal insecurity that everyone possesses, but nobody more than a conformist. they can deal with being called dangerous, accused of being a threat to democracy — that’s what they crave to hear, a testament to their power. but weird? that’s the worst possible insult — comparing them to us.

when you’ve been “weird” for your entire conscious memory, allegations of abnormality slide off your skin like water. if you call a queer man a fag, he’ll laugh in your face. he’ll take it in stride and get it tattooed. but call a man who makes his masculinity the focal point of his existence a fag — that stings. for the very same reason, that fashion critique guy on twitter riles right wingers up so much: they base their sense of self-esteem on the absolute conviction that their values, behaviours and aesthetics are correct, that anything else is a deviation. they pride themselves on being “straight” in all senses of the word: everyone else is a “pervert”, i.e. twisted and bent. so getting told “um, actually, your shoes are a size too big and your shirt doesn’t fit” shatters their resolve.

spot a rightoid in the wild? don’t call him an authoritarian misogynist. tell him instead that his wife left him for a woman and took the kids. spread a rumour about him fucking a couch. remind him that his nieces and nephews collectively know him as the “creepy uncle” and avoid him at family gatherings. find a photo of lookalike wearing drag and tag him in it.

be petty. because it’s not like they’re ever going to be nice to you

[lilpomelito]

“What's wrong with Pop music?”

Eddie stops mid rant and spins around. Steve is sitting upside down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, his silky hair touching the floor.

“I mean,” Steve continues, his voice a little strained by his position, “if so many people like it, there has to be something good about it, right?”

Eddie shares a look with Jonathan, hoping to find an ally, but the man looks zonked out of his mind. Argyle really brought the good shit with him.

“That's not the point, Stevie,” Eddie explains as he sits down on the floor next to the guy's head. “It's popular because it's the only shit the big corpos are pushing on the radio. It's what everyone listens to, so everyone thinks they have to like it to be liked. To be accepted. And it's not even good music! Where's the artistic merit in cheap studio synthesizers mixed with braindead lyrics like wake me up before you go go?"”

Steve frowns. “Not all popular music is like that. Also what's wrong with wanting to be liked?”

“Do you not like Freddie Mercury?” Robin gasps, lifting her head from Steve's stomach, and she sounds heavily offended.

Eddie blinks for second, confused as to where the conversation has suddenly turned. But Steve nods, apparently following her line of reasoning.

“Yeah, man. Queen is like, the most popular band in history. Do they not have artistic merit?”

“No, of course not, that's not what I–”

“And the government is not conspiring to push pop music, Eddie, we've seen they're too busy experimenting on children and opening portals to a parallel dimension,” Robin says.

“What about Bowie?” Steve says. “You loved Labyrinth. Didn't shut up about it for like a week. He's pop!”

“The point,” Eddie insists, flustered, avoiding to watch directly Steve's upside down smirk, “is forced conformity. Queen are all nerds! Bowie is a huge nerd. Where would they be now if they had played high school football?”

Jonathan nods slowly, but doesn't comment.

“What about astronauts?” Nancy asks, from where she's sitting at Johnathan's feet. “They're nerds, yes, but they also have to be in great physical shape. I bet most of them were athletes in school.”

“Yeah, totally!” Steve nods. “Remember Casey Johnson? He was captain of the basketball team when I was a freshman. He was valedictorian, and I think he went to Standford on a sports scholarship!”

“Yeah, I remember him,” Robin says, rolling her eyes. “One of my friends had a huuuuge crush on him.”

Steve's cheeks go red. He incorporates himself, despite Robin's protests, and sits on the couch like a normal person.

“Whatever. He was a nerd and an athlete. What's conformist about that?”

Eddie stares at him, narrowing his eyes. “Nothing, I guess. Or everything. He succeeded at academia, which was designed to shape kids into exploitable workers under capitalism—”

Jonathan groans behind him.

“—and made captain in a sport that's basically throwing balls into laundry baskets and calling it strategy. Praising people for that to the point where schools are giving scholarships is a little too much.”

“You try it, then, man,” Argyle calls from where he's laying on the rug, star shape style. “I bet you ten bucks you can't win at throwing laundry into baskets against Steve. Or my boy Lucas.”

Robin laughs maniacally. “Oh, I want to see that! Steve please destroy him, his ego needs a little humbling.”

The conversation moves on after that, since everybody looks like they're already over Eddie's rant. He doesn't mind, really. It's fun to ramp up the dramatic indignation against The Man, or whatever. It always causes a reaction, and even people who agree with him somewhat eventually hit a limit. Eddie likes to stick his finger and find that limit.

But not Steve. He's looking at Eddie like he's fascinating.

“You're a hypocrite.”

Eddie falters, biting down a smirk. “How come?”

Steve scoots a little closer. “You want to be a rockstar. You don't just want to live off making music. You want to be famous. You want people to like you.”

Eddie stares at him for a second, frozen in place.

“That's not—”

But Steve smiles, gentle. “That's alright. We all do. And you want to know a secret about being popular?”

Eddie can't resist. For all he protests about popularity and conformity and being so normal everybody likes you, he does wonder what it feels like to be on the other side. So he nods.

Steve smiles sadly. “It doesn't actually change anything. You think it means more people like you, but it just means more people are aware of you. What you do, what you say. Who are your friends, who you date. Where you go, when you go there. And at some point you feel like you can't escape it. And yeah, you do start to conform to the norm. Not because you think it's what's best but because you're so aware of people's opinions of you that you always choose the path of least resistance.”

Eddie... has never considered that. He moves a little closer to Steve as his voice goes quiet.

“You think it was fun to run into a random suburban mom in the grocery store and have her be furious at me because I was dating Susan Davis? Who apparently was her daughter's cousin, and she had a crush on me, and was planning on asking me to prom? How on earth was I supposed to know that? And she was double mad that I didn't even know who her daughter was. Like there's two hundred kids in Hawkins High. I can't know everyone!”

Eddie tries not to laugh, because Steve seems upset by this, but the situation is kind of ridiculous.

“And I think they got into their heads that because they knew of me I was supposed to also know them. But they didn't actually know me. I made prom King, people were mad. I was captain of the basketball team, people were mad. I then turned down being captain of the swim team and was just co-captain, people were still mad. I took a job, and people made fun of me. I lost that job because the mall caught on fire, people also made fun of me. I took another job, and people say I'm "wasting my potential", whatever that means. I don't know man. I think you can never win with people.”

Eddie grabs Steve's hand, touching softly his palm. It seems to work, and Steve relaxes a tiny bit under his touch.

What Steve said sounded exactly like what Eddie was talking about: the pressure to be what society wants, not what you want. He can tell it's a touchy subject for Steve, who has been under the crushing spotlight of being a relatively small town's golden boy.

So Eddie doesn't push any further.

“You got me there, though,” he says.

Steve smiles again. “Yeah?”

“Yeap,” Eddie nods. “I do want to be a famous rockstar. I do want to be known and liked and admired. I've never had that. But I guess you're right. We can't have it both ways.”

Robin, who up to that point had been discussing with Argyle the difference between an oboe and a clarinet, jumps in. “It's the horrifying ordeal of being known.”

Steve laughs. Eddie can't help it, his laugh is too contagious. He can't understand how people in this hellscape of a town ever looked at this boy and thought "he's not enough." With him? He gets it. Eddie's list of failures is a mile long. But Stevie? Sunshine incarnate, puppy-eyed, bitchy beautiful and smart Steve Harrington? There's nothing to complain about.

[ch4liz4rd-jpeg]

i wanna speak to the void abt gwens universe's colour symbolism and how it links to trans identity so here it is, feel free to read

the colours used in gwens universe - primarily in interactions with her dad are pinkish and bluish tones. the animators used pink as a way to show honesty, candidness and openness expressed, whilst the blue served to show isolation and dishonesty. ill discuss why i think so below

in the scene where gwen returns home after quitting the band, gwen is coloured in blue tones.

shes hiding her identity as spiderwoman from her dad and isolating herself in her room.

her dad tries to open up and talk to her about the case, hence the warm/orangey tones. but gwen remains blue, shutting him out. but when they hug, gwen is more purplish, showing a hint of her opening up.

the other scene i think is especially significant with her colour symbolism is the confrontation after the guggenheim sequence.

when gwen comes out as spiderwoman, the colours start to shift.

gwen is now candid, shes come out to her dad and is trying to make him listen and understand her. but just like gwens blues became pinks, george's pinks shift to blue.

the last image in this set is actually so chilling, the fear in his eyes hurt me deeply 💀 anyway

george hides behind his cop persona, avoiding and isolating from gwens confession to him, which is supported by the colour used to portray him.

all of this builds to what i think theyre trying to say about gwen being transgender. the typical gender to colour association is pink girl and blue boy. the choice of colour is deliberate here as much as it usually is with the spiderverse team. why use these two colours in this specific way? a lot of people who dont think gwen is a trans girl will say "well those two colours dont have to represent trans identity" they dont, but the details say that the spiderverse team (once again) is intentionally using them to talk about trans identity and coming out.

i think that by putting the "protect trans kids" poster in gwens room, and the trans flag patch on officer stacy's jacket show that theyre not just randomly picking the colours, but that they made the conscious choice for the boy associated colour - blue - to show hiding and isolation. whilst pink is about honesty and openness whilst being the girl associated colour. i think that the use of these colours in this way is saying that gwen is a trans woman.

and if ur still not convinced well

i havent even talked about the DIALOGUE in this movie and how trans it is. her arc (and miles' arc) across the two movies is such a queer coded story. "can i tell my dad, will he approve of me? will he still love me the same?" like it couldnt be more obvious. someone also mentioned somewhere that the side shave is also significant? like when she has the long hair facing toward the viewers its the same as the pink being used to show honesty and linked to femininity, and the short side almost like a masc haircut and being of the opposite meaning when its facing the audience. idk abt that one but its an interesting thought! that as well as her like having the same shoe size as hobie even tho that man is so fucking tall - yk this cuz her chucks are stated to be his.

anyways if u got that far, thanks???

and if u still deny that gwen is trans then idk what to say, u prob hate trans ppl

gwen is trans, they dont need to explicitly say it inorder for it to be true, just bc they didnt say gwen is trans, or miles is somehow queer, or hobie is gender non conformist, doesnt mean theyre cishet.

[lunarlianna]

Planets in the 10th house

The Tenth House, often called the House of Social Status, gently encourages us to explore our societal roles and career paths. It speaks of authority, recognition, and community contributions. This house prompts us to contemplate aspirations, drive, and wielding influence. It also nudges us to reflect on wider impact and lessons from authority relationships. It's a journey of growth, securing goals, and learning from boundaries. It’s ruled by Capricorn and the planet Saturn.

The Sun: With the Sun in the 10th house, you're driven by a profound desire to achieve and make a positive impact, either for others' benefit or personal success. This ambition, while admirable, places you in the spotlight, demanding both dedication and responsible choices. Though a gift, it's crucial to wield this power thoughtfully, as every step can influence many. Remember, great influence comes with great responsibility.

The Moon: in the 10th house reflects your deep sensitivity to others' opinions and a strong drive for achievement. You possess a charismatic influence and often find yourself in leadership roles, possibly involving change, women, or public engagement. Balancing your desire for success with emotional expression is key, as you strive to make a meaningful impact on society while sometimes concealing inner vulnerabilities. Your warmth is felt by loved ones, even if a composed exterior occasionally masks your true emotions.

Mercury: in the 10th House suggests a path where communication becomes a career—writing, speaking, or teaching. Your gift to articulate may lead you to professions requiring mental agility and practical skills. Multiple talents could lead to diverse jobs, with the potential for travel. Your charisma naturally draws attention, offering a platform for your ideas and words to shine, as long as they're wielded thoughtfully.

Venus: in the 10th House blesses your career with popularity and a harmonious demeanor. While others may extend kindness, maintaining balance is vital to prevent complacency. You’re loving and optimistic approach brings joy, making this placement ideal for public speaking or singing, inspiring hearts with your voice. Financial comfort often accompanies this position. Venus graces you with a gift for public charm, tact, and a keen appreciation for beauty, making you a natural fit for roles involving aesthetics and connection.

Mars: in the 10th House ignites your drive, ambition, and dynamic energy. A natural leader, your initiative and practicality shine in careers with variety and challenge. Self-reliance propels you, though potential friction with authority figures or parents may arise. Your determination and competitive spirit empower you to conquer mountains, carving your unique path to success. Harness your inner fire with compassion.

Jupiter: in the 10th House signifies a natural charm that effortlessly draws popularity, much like a beloved figure in school. This genuine, confident aura is irresistible, radiating Jupiter's cheerful essence. Opportunities seemingly fall into place for you, a product of your optimistic outlook uncovering hidden chances. Your ease with public endeavors is a strength, making even grand gatherings a breeze. Your integrity and generosity serve as a beacon, magnetizing success. Believe in yourself – you have the power to turn dreams into reality.

Saturn: in the 10th House reflects self-reliance, business acumen, and an organized nature. Your success is a slow, steady climb, grounded in hard work and resilience. Embracing responsibilities is crucial, avoiding power-seeking at others' expense. Caution against burning bridges, as you may need to revisit them. Challenges with parents' discipline or control may arise. Remember, your worth is innate – balance ambition with self-care, guarding against taking life too seriously. Your journey can thrive without sacrificing your well-being.

Uranus: in the 10th House signifies a non-conformist spirit that resists a mundane career. Your independence may lead you to self-employment, where your creative intuition shines. Embracing routine challenges, you, favoring dynamic fields like electronics, metaphysics, or invention. Sudden shifts in job situations are likely, driven by your need for innovation. Strive for a path that allows your free-spirited nature to flourish, steering clear of rigid structures. Self-employment could align perfectly, offering the space for your unique brilliance to shine.

Neptune: your career path may weave through artistic, inspirational, or humanitarian avenues. Embrace practicality amid idealism, as your public image can sway unpredictably. Fields like theatre, photography, or psychic pursuits may resonate. While aiming high, stay grounded to avoid wandering aimlessly. Strive for clarity in your cloud-kissed ambitions.

Pluto: in the tenth house signifies an unwavering drive for success, even if it means treading a mysterious or competitive path. While their intensity can sometimes lead to bridges burned, their resilience allows for transformation and growth. Ideal roles involve probing and secrecy, like detective work or psychology, where their discernment shines. Trust issues can challenge, yet these souls never give up easily. To evolve, they're called to expand beyond societal roles and rediscover their inner needs.

[h7p3r4ct1v3-h0rn3t2]

hi guys so this is definitely missing Something but whatever it is I'll tack it on later when I realize . but um. this is pretty much most of why i think spencer nkotr is transgender to me . I Refer to her almost exclusively with she/her pronouns because . it's mmy house . smiles

Irony is a recurring concept within episode 6 of New Kids on the Rock. In the first scene of the episode she states that she “only use[s] the term 'wack' ironically.” (1:52). Later, Kevin cites an off-screen conversation with her, saying that, “He doesn't actually like Superman comics, he likes them... ironically.” (2:43). “Liking things ironically” is repeatedly cited in a negative tone that is assumed to be self-evident; that is, no explanation is given within the episode as to why it is a bad thing. I don't have a source for this next claim you just have to trust me: Irony, as used within New Kids on the Rock 6, is detachment under a trendier name. Irony is invoked to distance oneself from that which it is being invoked upon (e.g., the slang term “wack,” the Superman franchise, the social media platform MySpace). When something is stated to have been done/said “ironically,” it implies, by definition, that the person invoking irony would not, under normal circumstances, engage with whatever it was they invoked irony upon. Irony is the absence of sincerity, and irony is something heavily associated with Spencer as a character.

Despite being established as against the concept of conformity, Spencer is shown to conform very closely to the cultural idea of hipterism, although she never outright states this as her goal. As previously mentioned, she repeatedly invokes irony, both on and off-screen, a hallmark of the hipster subculture. She repeats the phrase “[x] is the new [y]” multiple times throughout her episode, which, according to The Free Dictionary by Farlex, is a phrase that is “used to say that something has become very fashionable and can be thought of as replacing something else.” Hipsters, despite their association with counter-culture, are often thought of as “overly concerned with appearing trendy.” (Wikipedia Contributors).

The most glaring example of this oxymoronic conformity is the scene in which Spencer states that she does not order french fries from fast food restaurants, stating that they are “So conformist” (5:41). She explains that instead, she orders onion rings, because they are “slightly less popular” (5:49) and they “Go great” (5:52) with her MP3 player. She does not explicitly clarify what she means by saying that onion rings “go great” with an electronic device, but it can be inferred that the connection she is referring to is aesthetic; onion rings contribute to the “brand,” so to speak. Notably, she does not ever mention enjoying onion rings, only that she prefers them over french fries due to their comparitive obscurity. In this scene, she demonstrates the length to which she will alter her choices to fit into the hipster mould. Everything down to the minutia of a fast food order can and will be reformed to fit the platonic ideal of a hipster. Outside of the episode itself, the creators of New Kids on the Rock commonly refer to her as “The Hipster” from “The Hipster Episode.”

This railroading of identity in accordance with a desired image combined with the perpetual insincerity that comes with being part of a subculture that is characteristically saturated in irony is, in layman's terms, really transgender to me, boss. Both of these things put together give the impression of avoiding one's own identity by refusing to be genuine with one's self or others and defaulting to a predefined subculture for what ought to be expressions of personal style and preference. While this could also function very well as an allegory for masking and neurodivergence, these two things are not mutually exclusive. Anyway in conclusion estrogen could've saved Spencer Newkidsontherock (Her full legal name)

Works Cited

Farlex Dictionary of Idioms. “X Is the New Y.” TheFreeDictionary.com, 2024, idioms.thefreedictionary.com/X+is+the+new+Y. Accessed 20 Mar. 2025.

Murphy, Ryan. “New Kids on the Rock #6: The New New Kid on the Rock.” Youtu.be, Vicious516, 15 Aug. 2010, youtu.be/w7N6yFyvP4I. Accessed 20 Mar. 2025.

Wikipedia Contributors. “Hipster (Contemporary Subculture).” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 21 Nov. 2019, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hipster_(contemporary_subculture).

[therainscene]

speaking of your famous rod phallus theory, what do you think of the gooey tentacle that comes out of the mind flayer's demogorgon mouth in s3? its dripping, oozing, its like the puberty metaphor for s3 but also very phallic and invasive. if the monsters are all manifestations of will's sexuality etc, could this be an additional rod symbol? or symbolic of rape etc? the whole s3 billy villain setup is very evocative of serial killers/rapist/abuser behaviour ('keep quiet' etc).

Hi anon, thanks for the ask!

The Flesh Flayer tentacle strikes me as a possible Alien reference -- very consistent with the sexual horror vibes of the Upside Down, which is also lousy with Alien references.

However, my phrasing in the rod analysis aside, I wouldn't go so far as to say that the monsters are manifestations of Will's sexuality, per se.

Rather, they're manifestations of toxic 80s attitudes towards non-conformist sex -- which has obvious implications for the visibly gay kid, but straight (or "straight") characters deal with sexual horror in this show too:

Nancy had conformist sex with Steve while Barb was left all alone where the Demogorgon could get her -- and was quickly slut-shamed as punishment for drifting away from that conformity in order to investigate what really happened. (To say nothing of the guilt that's been haunting her for four seasons.)

Mike largely manages to avoid the horrors, but I think it's notable that he has a few close calls in S3, all of which are associated with protecting El -- almost as though he's unhappy about performing traditional masculinity for El's sake as sexual maturity looms on his horizon or something, I dunno, I'm sure it's nothing

Billy has sex with a lot of women, but note the homoerotic tension between him and Steve in S2 -- he likes the feeling of power it gives him to sexually intimidate other men. This doesn't necessarily make him queer, mind -- the point is that he views sexuality as a tool for control and power, which makes him a perfect conduit for the horrors.

So yeah, the Flesh Flayer tendril isn't one of Will's rods -- but you're definitely not misreading the phallic symbolism there.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Eddie thinking he's a suave ladies' man as he tries to talk to you but realising he has no game whatsoever. You find it endearing.

Minors dni, Eddie being adorable and flustered, fluffy fic.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

In his head, he thinks he's suave, charming and a ladies' man but in reality, he blushes and makes a doofus of himself in front of pretty girls.

Eddie has a major crush on you and he doesn't know what to do. He couldn't stop thinking about you.

He spends most of his time talking to Uncle Wayne or the guys, they are used to his chaotic energy and goofball shit.

Most girls ignore, roll their eyes at him or call him "freak"

The small few that do notice him, who have flirted back, who he's met at shitty dive bars don't stick around long.

You were talking to Chrissy, he opened his mouth to say hello but his voice came out all squeaky and made him curse himself out in his head.

So when he saw you for the first time he acted like he was confident, cool and shit but in reality he was a mess inside.

To him, you were beautiful, sweet and an angel on earth, some mythical type of elven princess from LOTR, a goddess.

Chrissy looked at him all sympathetic and introduced you to him while he called himself several names in his head.

He missed the shy smile you sent his way, the intrigued look as he skulked off in the opposite direction hoping to forget the disaster of a first meeting.

✨💕

After that Eddie attempted to show off while he was near your vicinity. Hoped you would notice him while he was strutting around like a peacock on the Hellfire lunch table and throwing his daily insult at Jason.

It might have worked in theory if he didn't notice you actually staring over at him one time and he froze, like a deer in headlights.

Kinda like this.

Then as he jumped off the table he managed to trip over his own feet, face plant on the floor and shoot back up like nothing had happened.

He really hoped you didn't notice that.

But you did, the Hellfire boys snickered in the background until he gave them one of his death glares and they shut up immediately.

He was so pathetic at this. In his mind, he was certain he was all cool and suave but in real life he was having no luck wooing you.

Rock stars wouldn't have this problem he told himself sullenly with a pout on his face.

A pout that you thought was cute as fuck, however Eddie didn't know that yet.

❤️

After a little while Eddie was ready to give up, he tried speaking to you but got all tongue-tied and overacted to show that he wasn't sweating his ass off while you looked at him with your pretty eyes.

He was forced to realise he didn't have much game as he thought he did and was considering asking Steve for help. The chicks all loved him right?

Stupid, stupid son of a bitch he berated himself as he stomped to away from his usual spot in the woods still sulking.

With minutes to spare until he had to get to class, he grudgingly gets up.

Just one week left until he graduated this hellhole he consoles himself.

His army crawling to a D in Miss O'Donnell's class finally paid off.

Then you walked up to him as he got to the school entrance and he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

"Hi, Eddie" you murmur and you sound like you are nervous, shy too just like how he feels.

Why were you nervous? Did your friends tell you he was mean and scary or something?

"Hi, uh sweetheart" Yeah, nice going doofus he scolds himself.

"I was wondering if you had a date for prom?" he blinks, once, twice, then shakes his head.

He planned on avoiding prom like the plague, conformist bullshit he told himself. Though if he was honest he would have sucked it up and gone for you. If you wanted.

Not that you would ever ask but he would.

"Nah, not my thing sweetheart" is it his imagination or did you look disappointed? You had guys ask you for weeks but you turned them down much to the relief Eddie felt when he saw it happen.

"Oh, okay. I just thought if it was your type of thing then maybe we could have gone together but it's not so uh cool" You look up at him through your lashes and he thinks his brain short circuits.

...

You, the most beautiful girl he had ever met in his life wanted to go with him.

"Why would you want to go with me?" he asks stunned because hasn't he been making an ass of himself for weeks and weeks now? Months even.

"Because you're cute, endearing, actually to me you're super fucking hot and I struggle to know what to say around you"

Did he end up getting to class after all and he was daydreaming? No... no this was very real and he shrugged off the nerves he was feeling and grinned.

"Milady, I would love to go to prom with you" The look on your face, the joy makes his heart ping in delight.

"Great, I really like you, Eddie" You move closer to him and before he knows it he's kissing you and you're kissing him back and everything is fucking incredible.

❤️

The rest of Hellfire was stunned as you joined their table and settled on Eddie's knee while kissing his cheek.

He heard Jason's shout of shock and lazily flipped him the bird, he was too into his girl to notice.

His, you were his. He couldn't believe it.

"Dude, how??" Lucas asked him stunned, mirroring Dustin and Mike's look, he winked at his sheeples and shrugged.

"Couldn't resist the Eddie Munson game could you princess?" you giggle and press a kiss to his lips and he basks in the glow of your beaming smile and that gorgeous giggle.

Eddie felt like a rockstar, 86 was his year, just like he suspected.

[fictionalslvr]

SYNOPSIS:One mystery is going on the bohemian part of Racoon City. No older cop wants to get into it. But Leon S. Kennedy, one rookie cop is sure he can solve it.

PAIRING: Re2¡Cop¡Leon x Cocktailer/Burlesque¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 4.709k

:

WARNINGS: AU without the zombies!! (Social segregation based on the series Arcane). This fic will aboard the following themes; death (murder like), vices on alcohol and cigarettes, prostitution, depression and social segregation for the development of the plot. But there's nothing explicit!!

NOTES: Finally out of cage! I'm writing this first part and will separate in two, to make it more easier to read. One thing that i want to make clear, is that the courtesans are the prostitutes ones (which i preferred this term because Leon would never call them prostitutes.) and the burlesques are the ones who do the art of teasing, or being more clear, the dancing/striptease part. NOT PROOF READ. Anyways, i hope you guys enjoy and please, listen to "That's Life" of Frank Sinatra to help the vibe :)

The bohemian part of the grandiose Racoon City, that excluded part, where the influential politicians would pretend it didn't exist. That place where the news wouldn't reach so quickly. That place where the old ladies would gossip about, telling the horrors they heard people are doing there, such obscenity so close to their conservative family, that was a shame for the name of the city.

Higher buildings, smoke in everyone's lungs, that was the American Dream people longed for? Oh no, not for the considered bohemian's, the excludes, the bad part of the civilization and everything bad they could call them. Their dreams were different, and they were humiliated for it, to keep chasing those hours spent daydreaming, making it become true, finally. That was, until the dream of more technological advancement came, and things started to be left behind. You want to be an artist? That won't give you money, silly! You have to be a doctor, a handyman or anything that won't mix a job with passion. After all, who wants to spend a whole life working and not having enough money to buy a grave to rest after death?

But the “more rational” people wouldn't understand. No, they could never. They could never realize the purpose of a whole life of joy, even if it means not having a place to be buried. It would all be worth it, just to experience that happy way to see the life of the bohemian's they were missing. Dancing in the rain and having no fear of getting wet, just because it's water at the end of the day, a hot bath and everything was fixed. It was about going to the bar's just to listen to the memorable jazz of the small artists, those who express their feelings at the rhythm of the song. Asking for a drink and enjoying the mood of that tiny place, where people would laugh, dance and enjoy the little things of life. That doesn't have a price, and won't ever have. Of course that the conservatives could never enjoy a show if there's ladies showing their legs on fishnets, oh that was so obscene for them! But the naturalism of the body was important, because the body speaks for itself and the civilians couldn't comprehend.

Going to the Monroe Lounge was something Leon never expected, but it was needed. The rookie agent was going for his first mission alone, right on the bohemian part of the city, specifically on the most famous bar there. The whole air down the city is different, with less carbon, less sky to see from the suburbs and people with different styles he never saw up there. Ladies would be more bold to show a tad more of their bodies, the men's would not always just suits. His rushed steps and uniform made it obvious who he was, an conformist from the upper city, that was clear. The blonde healthy hair, the bright blue eyes, the boyish face and the innocence radiating from his person, it was clear when the ladies passed by and he looked to the bricked floor, avoiding gazing at their bodies or doing anything disrespectful to them. Someone so ashamed of the skin could only be a conformist, just looking at his face would make it clear. And the looks on him were clear as the sun, they were trying to understand what a cop would be doing down there. Things must happen to make an upper city come down.

Leon would follow the street signs to get to the Monroe Lounge. The music never stopped anywhere there, it could be a melancholic flute on a street show, it could be people singing together, or even, a violin to the cute couples in the restaurants. The way they would be this diverse in music attracted the young cop, something about their lyrics, their ways to express things and how natural they were about it, it was…exquisite. He slowly knew he was in the right place when the red neon forefront lights hit his face, the big “Monroe” written in a fancy font, his eyes would squint together, even in the daylight, this place shined. He wonders how it would look at night. Shaking his thoughts away, he gathered courage to open the large doors of the entrance, being welcomed by people everywhere he could imagine. There were stages, like two of them. One was closed by big red curtains, but the other was having a show on it. Some music he didn't recognize, but it looked like jazz on Leon's mind. He stopped at the entrance, having a good look at his place around the Lounge. On the stage, there was a whole band, with a man in the center singing as if his life depended on that.

“Cause this fine old world, it keeps spinnin' around…” The young man had to stop his eyes on the stage, his eye track interrupted by the meaning of that show. He never witnessed something like that in his whole life, the pure bliss of listening to new music, the need to stop and listen.

“I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king.” As the singer syllabically sung every word, Leon knew he was trapped. His voice was beautiful, and was successful in caging Leon on his own mind for a moment.

“I've been up and down and over and out, and I know one thing” He wants to know what the thing is. He gets closer and he's pulled by the crowd, right on the front of the singer, their eyes met. And Leon was sure this song talked to him, entered his heart and made its place.

“Each time I find myself flat on my face…” He watched the man singing, his hands together in some kind of blissful state of mind, maybe it was the instruments loud on his ears that shook his mind.

“I pick myself up and get back to the race.”

The answer was there, and it was everything he expected, the pure desperation the music created is now soothed by itself. That song was like a roller coaster ride, the epitome of it bringing Leon to ecstasy. He was still there, taking that song on his mind for a moment, recomposing himself. And rapidly, the singer is not looking in his eyes anymore, but feeling the groove of the song itself. He took a deep breath, his hands on his chest, right in his heart like something was giving him a gas. He was suddenly interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, poking him not so gently. Leon turned on his feet to find a lady. She didn't look older than him, but she was smoking and had the body of a mature woman, the eyes of an ancient who lived too much of this life already. And her red short hair with her black roots showing up was just a plus of her memorable figure. He cleared his throat, expecting her to say something.

—”I'm guessing you're a fan of Frank Sinatra.” — Her voice was like a blow, too quick to be caught, forcing him to blink sometimes to understand her phrase. The loud music didn't helped.

—”W-What?”

—”Frank Sinatra. He created this song that Johnny is singing now. It's amazing, isn't it?”

The lady tilted her head to the side, blowing the smoke of her cigarette on his face, holding them in between her fingers. Leon had to cough, wagging the air away with his hand and squeezing his eyes in irritation of the smoke.

—”You guys are weird. Inhaling carbon every day is not a problem, but cigarette smoke is?”

—”I'm not…used to this kind of smoke.”

—”Well, you should be, because down there, smoking is a bit common.”

—”I…noticed.”

His prolonged words were a consequence of his thinking. He has to think a lot before saying anything, almost trying to gain some respect in this unknown place. Leon opened his eyes again, finding the lady eyeing his pupils deep as going down the ocean and not having air to come back. His eyes escaped like a coward, going more down to run from that feeling of being cornered. His hands scratched the back of his neck, not hiding his embarrassment.

—”I'm a tad curious. Why are you, an upper cop, doing down there?”

—”Oh! Yeah, yeah. I'm investigating.”

—”Investigating Johnny singing?”

—”What? No, no! I was just…distracted by the music.”

She couldn't contain a giggle, her teeths showing up, they were a bit yellowed, showing that she must be smoking for quite a long while. Who is strange, considering she must be 20. She noticed his eyes on her teeths and tried to hide with her hands, but still, she didn't stop giggling. Leon felt sorry, wanted to mumble a sorry for repairing what could be an insecurity. But she was still laughing, and he didn't find a moment to apologize, even when she slowly stopped.

—”So…what exactly do you need from the Monroe Lounge?”

—”I'm finding some witnesses from last week. There was an assassination close to here, and I believe someone must have seen something.” — Her semblance turned serious, she agreed with her head, mumbling something he couldn't catch.

—”Well, I know someone who can help you with that.”

She flipped her body completely to the other side, tucking the cigarette on between her lips to start walking. Her red high heels clicked on the floor and made a great sound that was capable of hearing even with the song still running on the stage. He had no other choice but to follow her around, looking like a lost dog following a stranger in some hope to find a home. Guiding him, she led him to some kind of bar, with like three cocktailers.

—”Hey, y'all! This upper cop needs some help, it has something to do with Jenny, I think.” — She mumbled to them, that caught the attention of someone in particular. You. In your tight apron and drink in hand, you locked eyes with Leon, his face showed how lost he was.

—”I can help him, thanks for coming, sir.” — That was surprising, the first person to threat him with some respect down there. The lady that helped him shrugged, waving a goodbye and leaving them two there.

He had no other choice but to sit on a small black leather stool, in front of you, only separated by the large red counter.

—”And you are?”

—”Leon Kennedy! I-I’m Leon S. Kennedy, nice to meet you, ma’am.” — He shakes his head uncontrollably, offering his hand in some respectful gesture. And you took it, even though it was a bit clear how desperate he was to be educated. You lifted your free hand, shaking his with a light chuckle to lighten the mood.

—”Nice to meet you, I'm one of the cocktailers of Monroe, and people often talk to me. So, I know some things about last week.”

Leon retracted his hand after a long second of shake, a bit of an…strange one that lasted more than the normal. You offered a ready drink to someone close, then, going back to Leon and taking a small cloth and putting on your shoulder.

—”First of all, do you know why this place's name is Monroe?”

—”Because of Marilyn Monroe?”

—”No, no. There's a piercing with this name, and he's located right here.” — You point at your face, even if you don't have this piercing. —”Right between the nose and the upper lip.”

—”And why's that?”

—”Because the nose is the upper city, blowing their air at us, while we hope someday we will be the upper one's.”

The answer was quick, like it was on the tip of your tongue and something frequently talked on this bar. It caught him off guard, and he looked away again, fighting against the truth that's haunting this place. He's actually learning, learning something precious he's still developing. It seemed like the assassination was not the only mystery around here.

—”I…sorry.” — His voice died on the way, not having more to say about this topic he didn't knew about some minutes ago.

—”Don’t worry, I'm not here to throw rocks at you. I just want justice, like I hope you do too.”

He lifted his head, pressing his thin lips together in understandment. Only showing you his comprehension by his expressions.

—”Well, back on topic. Do you have any questions?”

—”Actually, yes, I do.” — He took a flipnote from one of his many pockets, and a pen from another one, flipping the pages for a moment before straightening his stance to start. —”Did you find anyone suspicious last week?”

You took the cloth on your shoulder, starting to clean a large cup with it, your expression difficult for Leon to guess your answer.

—”That's hard to say. I can find anyone suspicious and that would only make your investigations difficult.” — You took a deep breath, focused on your task but your mind anywhere else. —”But, there was one guy who caught my attention. He was never seen on the bar, and I quickly stayed alert since there was a killer around. He mentioned something about being angry with some courtesan.”

—”And did you know which courtesan was?”

—”No, he didn't mention. He just said that she wasn't worth his money and he wanted it back. But I couldn't do anything about it. And he left, bragging really loud about it.”

—”And the lady who brought me here mentioned some Jenny. Who is Jenny?”

—”She was one worker here. She was not a courtesan, she was actually a cleaner. So that's brought my suspicions on that guy down.”

—”And she was one victim, right?”

—”Exactly, everyone left, and by the morning, when she was not here, we called the police.”

—”Then, her body is still not found.”

—”Yes, we're hoping she's still alive.” — You let the air escape through your lips, your eyes deep inside that cup like you could find Jenny inside there.

—”Look, I'll try my best to help. I promise.” — Leon looked right at you, his eyes full of some determination you never saw before.

—”I don't know why an upper city would like to help, but I'll fall into this illusion for a while, if it means to comfort me.”

—”And…how long have you been working here?”

—”Not so long, actually. Like three years, when I moved down here. And since then, I've been doing some shows to raise money, but I'm now more on the drinks side.”

—”Oh, so you were a courtesan?” — You chuckled, shaking your head negatively while Leon wrote something you couldn't read on his flipnote.

—”No, I was just a stripper. I didn't want those old men touching me, so I just danced for money.”

Leon gulped down, not even imagining that you could do something like being a stripper. His eyes ran up, finding your expression, so free and so not embarrassed about it, that it actually embarrassed him. His cheeks gently turned crimson on the neon lights of the Lounge, which helped him, so you couldn't see.

—”I understand, but Jenny was the only victim, right?”

—”Yeah, the only one from Monroe. I think she was a victim because she wouldn't just leave everything behind. She loved this place and loved to clean as the song played. I don't see her running away.”

—”And did any of your work colleagues look suspicious to you?” — You frowned. It looked like this was some offense to you.

—”No, no. We've been together on this job for too much time, and even me, who was the last to come work here, trusts them a lot. If there was any killer around us, the assassination would have happened early.”

Their connection seems really strong to Leon, and your point was actually valid. He licked his lips, just to help the dryness of it.

—”Have you noticed anything suspicious about Jenny's behavior?”

—”Actually not. She was neither happier, nor sadier, just normal.”

—”Did Jenny had any troubled relationships outside the bar?”

—”Probably with her ex, she was a bit over jealous of her, and they used to argue a lot. But I can't confirm if she would do something like this. We actually called her to see if Jenny was with her, and she helped the whole time, searching for cameras and all.”

—”And those cameras…do you have access to them?”

—”Yes, I do. We'll have to use the monitoring room.” — You left your cup and cloth under the counter, doing calm footsteps to the mentioned place. You didn't had to look behind to prove he was behind you, it was visible due to your height difference.

The way you moved through the place just made it obvious how used you were to that. Maybe you spent more time here than you wanted to admit. The room wasn't far, and with a key out of your pocket, you opened the door, welcoming Leon to some cassette tapes and a tv. Bending down gently, your fingers swing through the tapes, analyzing the dates and finally finding the right one and putting it on the player.

—”Look, the only thing we have is this.” — Skipping some time in the tape, Jenny was seen. She did her job, talked to people happily and even laughed. Her bright pink hair and lots of piercings were very recognizable, it was weird, because if one corpse was found, it was easy to recognize if the state wasn't bad. The lady on the video took her jaquet, put it on and left the place, like it was a habit, waving her goodbye to everyone with a smile ear to ear.

—”And with that, she just goes to her house. Her ex even said she messaged her when she got home, she showed the messages to us.” — Your tone exhales no hope, there weren't many hints, and you doubt yourself on a rookie job.

—”So, we have to assume she disappeared by the early morning before the work hour.”

—”Exactly. Well, that's what I know and had to talk about.” — You lifted yourself from the carpet ground, your knees a bit irritated. Sighing, your eyes show no future ahead.

—”I…thank you for your help, miss.”

—”My name is [reader], don't call me Miss, I feel like a little girly.” — Chuckling was your only answer, it was weird how his manners worked. Leon looked like a kid talking to the others, there was no malice in his words.

—”I'm sorry! I didn't ask your name, I'm a bit head aired on this place.” — He facepalmed himself, like that was the biggest error he could commit.

—”That's okay, I can understand…”

Your elbows rested on the wooden table close to you, and your waist were dragged to pull over there. Leon was strange, very strange from an upper city liver.

—”I'm guessing you're a rookie, right?”

—”Am I that obvious?” — His face fell flat in disappointment, his shoulders slumping down immediately. That gave you an uncontrollable urge to laugh, right out of your chest.

—”Yes, it is!”

Leon joined you in laughing. His soft giggle was slowly finding its rhythm with yours. And the morbid topic was creeping out of the room without even noticing.

—”But that's not necessarily bad. You are actually…not that bad.” — You tilted your head to the side, as if making an effort to say that. Leon got the joke and joined.

—”Of course not. I might be silly, but I don't let the others pass me behind, you know?”

—”Oh really? I'm hoping that's true.”

The topic leisurely started to die. Leaving some happy faces on its way. It was easy to talk to Leon. It was easy to talk to you as well. He got himself thinking why people gossip so much about the bohemians if they are that good at talking.

—”Anyway, I should get back to work now.” — Adjusting your stance, you get on your feet to get out. But not before planting a hand on his shoulder with a light squeeze that showed something…different.

—”I hope you can do something for us. Please, solve this.” — Leon couldn't see your face properly in that poorly illuminated room, with the light actually flashing sometimes. But he knew something was different. He knew you were depositing some confidence in him. He knew you started to dig into your heart for some hope. Hope for the excluded people. It was a chance to be finally seen. Only because an murder is walking around the two opposites ways of living.

—”I promise I will.”

He promised, with all the words and the voice not faltering back. He has something neither the old cops can have…the innocence. The innocence of believing the world is pure. The innocence of believing in humans. That Innocence couldn't be found in an older cop who saw humans in their worst ways, dying, killing, saying bad things and doing all the worst ways of solving problems. The real problem, the real thing is the mind. The mind solves everything. But some minds are not born to solve, they are born to plant problems.

Suddenly, the red haired lady comes in, knocking gently at the door and startling Leon for no reason at all. She looked directed at you, her face not that happy.

—”[Reader], we need to talk, there's a problem in the shows tonight and I need your help.” — You agreed. Cleaning your hand in your apron as a habit you developed. Looking at Leon, your face gestured some apologies.

—”You can stay here and watch the cassettes, maybe that could help. I'll have to go, but call me if you need anything more.”

He gave you a square smile, waving his hand to get you to know you can go with no worries. With that, you left without looking behind, following your colleague who he didn't know the name of. And he stayed there, analyzing second by second of the past week tapes, hoping something would give him a clue. His eyes were surely tired after some hours in that poor room, sitting on a chair that didn't even fit his butt properly, and his posture would not be the best one sitting there. His tired eyes and back yelled for a rest, even if he wanted to bring the answer that people needed. Of course Leon has the savior complex, and felt like a savior, that solving this case could bring peace between the two worlds. But again, he was just a twenty one recently formed cop, he couldn't fight the real enemy, the system. Leon really developed that complex, since all the problems were on his back, when people needed him, and slowly he started to fool himself.

Leon got up from the chair, taking the tape out of the player with an exhale escaping from his lips. He didn't know how much time he was there. But he needed to go after not having enough clues. Closing the door behind and leaving, he noticed it was late, just because the neon red lights were brighter, keeping the ambient light shining on the night. Leon cursed himself for taking so much time for nothing and started walking through the Lounge with his feets tingling from being numb after hours non moving.

The only sound that helped him to locate was the show ones, where the music playing was different, one that didn't feel like a band playing. It felt like some slow music, with no vocals at all. It was way more…sexy. Immediately, he gulped down, praying it was not what he was thinking. A cop being seen in a place like this was weird, but in the middle of this kind of show? With his whole uniform? God, he would be fired right away. He passed through a corridor, golden frames with photos were everywhere, some photos of the place in the beginning, some of the singers and band, all the photos were the history of that place. Leon flew his eyes by them, but quickly changed to the floor when he was out of it, when he noticed it was all true. An obscene show was going at that moment, on the other stage. One bigger, with more professional light and a metal pole in the middle of it, his whole face flushed in shyness. Great, he will have to leave like a rocket and get back to his home as quickly as he can.

An sudden announcement ringed his ear, forcing him to stop his tracks. It was your name being called. You were going to make a show tonight. Right there and right now. Leon peaked at the stage in pure curiosity, finding you completely different from before. Wearing a blue corset, an only back long multi layered skirt with silver details, a feather collar and some feathers ornament in your hand, hiding your face from the public. The glittery outfit called attention, as some men started whistling and yelling, which made Leon profusely bothered by that disrespect. One piano started to tone in, accompanied by the soft song of an violino and a guitar, all mixed together into a song that was more like…tango. As the chorus started to come in, the feathers vibrated with the shake of your hands, making the public yearn for the revelation, desire for the show and vibrate with joy. As the song started to get more attractive, the blue feathers swung off the way, showing your face with lots of makeup and a bright smile that tied Leon up in place. He looked at the stage, his eyes fixated on your figure, in your charm, into your way of moving the plumes with grace besides all, it was all a tease. As you started to pose, shake and move, everyone was glued to you, either watching the show, or only focusing on the tight figure on the curves of your body. Either way, some money started to fly at the stage, falling right in front of your heels and making you giggle, teasing even more the crowd with your crouching up and down movements, or either shaking the plumes with ability. One thing was sure, you had an attractive ability that kept everyone focused. And Leon, oh he has to keep his mouth to not fall. He was surprised, shocked that he would see you that way. He should look away. He should. But he couldn't. The song was hitting his heart again, but this time, the impact was bigger as you were there on the stage. It was not obscene, it was just…teasing. There were no naked women as people gossiped about. There was nothing like that. You were just moving feathers and moving your body. But then, why was it so damn appealing to see? He wanted to know the answer, but seeing with his own eyes was the only possible answer.

As the music starts to fade out, the men start to whistle again, clapping and yelling in excitement. That's when realization hits Leon, he watched the whole show.

—”I'm sorry!” — He lip synced to you as soon as your eyes met. And you could only chuckle, sending him a smile that didn't show any discomfort at all. Leon felt guilt, his whole face feeling hot, and even outside his face, even his ears.

Seeing that, you send him a flying imaginary kiss, which didn't help. In fact, it was only his final act to fall dead on the floor. He could just faint at that moment, he was hyperventilating. Leon's eyes widened and he blinked a few times to make sure it was for him. And he couldn't even make sure, because as soon as possible, he ran off of that place, gathering some air outside on the cold night. The show was still going, some other lady and some other music, he could hear even from outside. Leon had to hold the light pole to stay up. Freeing one hand to place on his cheeks, feeling the heat radiating from it.

—”This place is messing with me…”

[brutalisttarot]

Pick An Image: What’s your vibe?

Pile 1

Your vibe feels freeing, people feel liberated, as if they were to stand beside an angel when they are beside you. Your vibe is also one of being unafraid to express your sexuality and being someone to pave a new path. You guys are creatives or fire starters to grow seeds into blooming flowers and tall plants. You also seem to have a magical touch, as if you create a great impact on what’s previously made to be one of specialty. Your vibe is that you’re a peacemaker, you see the possibilities of many things, your outlook on life is one of opulence and beauty. I also get the vibe that you guys might hide yourself from the spotlight or shy away from fame or even opportunities. People pick up the vibe that you can get overwhelmed and emotionally hurt but keep it to yourself.

Pile 2

Your vibe is one of starting a new era or being fresh in a certain environment or trying something new. You’re seen as reliable off your vibe. People perceive you as a perfectionist, in self-development stages, learning something new that is either chaotic, risky or naive. Depending on what you’re doing. You’re perceived as an individualistic learner, slightly introverted, lone wolf vibes. Some level of exclusivity but not one of isolation like a hermit card would represent. People think that there’s a fierce side to you but you’re very in control in the outside. You’re very emotionally put together. You could work in service line or a career that requires a lot of words spoken politely or well.

Pile 3

People get the vibe that you’re a traveller, someone who moves around a lot. You look like a busy person chasing that bag and moving forward and it feels like a forever trait. People get the vibe that you’re younger than your age, they’d like to think you’re one of a kind, super in your own element, you don’t reveal much of your creative endeavours. You tend to suppress your expressive side, people find it hard to read you. It’s like the lucky ones get to listen to snippets of you disclosing information or speaking. You’re also seen as a peacemaker, or you could just be avoidant of people in large groups, you tend to want to have small groups of close ones who’d give you quality treatment and actually value what you say and do rather than a shallow conformist role of talking to many people at once in large groups.

[booksrbetterthanpeople]

Goth Kids Quotes

Marc: *Sees Ladybug crouching on the rooftop* Who the FNH is that?

Ladybug: *Leaps down to the ground* What does it mean? ‘That is not dead which can eternal lie’?

Ivan/Juleka/Nathaniel/Marc: …

Ivan: … And with strange eons, even death may die.

Ladybug: What does it mean?!

Marc: It means Cthulhu is gonna get rid of all the posers and make everything cool and black and stuff. It’ll be like a Nine Inch Nails concert that goes on forever.

Juleka: Yeah, so go home and put your underwear inside your pants, poser.

Ladybug: You’re going to tell me everything you know.

Nathaniel: No one is stopping Cthulhu, now! All will be sadness! Life will become death! And I shall watch the crimson blood leak from your neck!

Ivan: … Dude, this redhead is hardcore goth.

—

Ivan: We can’t do what she asks us to do. She’s a conformist! Look at her clothes and her hair.

Marc: Yeah, tell you what, new kid. Get the right clothes, dye that hair, some coffee, and then talk to us again.

Ivan: Yeah, if you wanna prove you aren’t a conformist, then you need to look exactly like we do. Then, maybe we’ll consider hanging out with you.

—

Adrien: She was my whole life.

Nino: Oh, come on, dude! All you’ve done for the last four days is mope around! You might as well go hang out with those goth kids who dress in black and talk about pain all the time.

Adrien: Maybe I should. At least they would understand me. Maybe I should go hang with the goth kids.

*Later*

Marc: Life is pain. Life is only pain. *Flips his hair* We’re all taught to life in haply fairytale endings, but there is only darkness. Dark loneliness that eats at your soul.

Ivan: Who needs that Ken and Barbie love, anyway? Everyone’s just walking around like a bunch of conformists. Go ahead and wear your business suit so you can make thirty-four thousand euros a year and buy your condominium. They’re all zombies racing to their graves. Love didn’t work for my mom and dad. Wish it had worked for me.

Juleka: My dad is such an asshole. Bastard doesn’t even know I exist, and he won’t let me go to this concert because the lead singer is this rival singer or whatever. Sucks. Now I can’t drown out the Barbie wannabes at this school bitching at me for not wearing girly clothes like then.

Nathaniel: They’re all a bunch of fascist conformist cheerleaders.

Adrien: …

—

Ivan: Does your mom know you took her car?

Juleka: Do I care?

—

Ivan: If we get the right packaging, we can just FedEx him somewhere far away.

Juleka: If we’re gonna send him somewhere, it should be the most horrible, most miserable place on earth.

Ivan/Marc/Juleka/Nathaniel: … Scottsdale.

—

Marc: If you like dressing in black because it is “fun,” enjoy putting sparkles on your cheeks, and following the occult while avoiding things that are bad for your health, then you are most likely a douchebag vampire wannabe bastard. Because anybody who thinks they are actually a vampire is fucking stupid.

*Everyone in the auditorium cheers*

Ivan: *Flips them off* Fuck all of you.

*They cheer louder*

—

Nora: Okay, hold up! Hold up! You mean that one of us might not really be a vamp kid?!

Ivan: … Uh… Right.

Nora: Well, whoever you are, you better get your ass ready to run, motherfucker, ‘cause you’re a damn traitor! And I’ll bet you it’s this little fucker right here! *Points to Adrien*

[donthugm3imscar3d]

Come you write an headcanon for Pete of the goth kids?? Idk maybe with a reader that is a little shy so she's scared of him

Of course, I ain’t very good at headcanon but I tried

(Romantic/platonic)

•you were scared of the goths after they burnt down the hot topic

•you would try avoiding them whenever they’re nearby

•Pete and the goths was aware of this, but the other goths didn’t really care that much

•it took a bit of time but eventually you wasn’t as scared of the goth as you once were

•overtime, you started to admire one of the goths

•Pete

•You and him eventually became pretty good friends

•although, you still find yourself a little scared of Pete

•but not as much as his friends

•One day, you found a note and a single a single fav/flower in your locker

•the note said

“As much of a conformist as this sounds, I liked you since we became friends.

Will you go out with me?

-Pete”

•the “Will you go out with me” part was spelled with rose petals

•your heart wanted to dance, but you was a little nervous about going out with Pete

•But the date didn’t went bad at all

•after the date, you wasn’t scared of Pete anymore but you were still scared of his friends

•Pete doesn’t really mind you being scared of his friends

•you and him would hang out when Pete was not around his friends

•but once you warm up to Pete's friends you and him will start hanging out with them

•The other goths will eventually get used to your company

•overall, shy or not shy Pete still loves you ❤️❤️❤️

Authors note: I am so sorry for not making any content on this blog. I just had things going on in real life, but I promise I will be more active starting now. Also I am planning on making another post about going out on a date with the goths (expect frikle I only do platonic for him) that is why I didn’t really say how the date went. I was desperate to finish this so I wouldn’t have to keep this person waiting. Also I tried to make it as realistic as possible.

[smutinlove]

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ʙᴜʀɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ—ᴄᴀʀʟ ɢʀɪᴍᴇꜱ—Chapter One:the woods

Description: They say home is where the heart is, but that's not where Mae's was. Mae's parents were always stern with her. But Mae didn't care. To Mae, the way her parents behaved with her was preposterous. She wasn't a child, and she knew that. And Mae knew that it was a luxury to be rich, and she didn't take it for granted. With great wealth also comes loads of party invitations. And then she found herself at a party in the land of hopes and dreams, America. She felt distressed when she was in the large hall. And so, like any sane teenage girl would do, she sneaked out. But her parents found out and sent a couple of bodyguards after her. And so she has to make a detour to the woods. There, she meets a boy who changes her life in dozens of ways.

—​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​​🇲​—

MAE CARTER—​RUNAWAY GIRL

CARL GRIMES—​COWBOY

OTHERS:

MATTEO LYSANDER—​WITNESS

EDMUND CARTER—DAD

WILLOW CARTER—​MOM

ATHENA FITZGERALD─THE GIRLFRIEND

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Chapter Two: Undetected

Chapter One: The Woods

Some of the British don't expect happiness. Mae Carter was one of those sour people. She didn't believe that someone could be happy without money. For most of her life, Mae remained trapped indoors because of her strict parents. She was only allowed outside if one of her parents accompanied her. Some people called her a conformist; others asked if she had ever stepped outside alone.

One of the things she hated was when people asked her questions that she could not give answers to. It made her feel senseless. She opted for books instead of friends. She would sometimes feel lonely whenever the protagonists in the book would hang out with their friends. But she brushed that feeling off as being dramatic and foolish.

But there was also a secret hobby she had when she was in England. Every day, at nine in the evening, Mae's parents would be busy for two hours. So, she would sneak out of her bedroom window at nine every day and run away from home for an hour. It was something she enjoyed doing a lot. Especially when she was wearing one of her fancy gowns, and to her, it was thrilling. And it made her feel less alone in the world. It made her feel like she had a real purpose and wasn't just a useless British girl with strict parents.

And with her parents being strict came great wealth. Mae would often accompany her parents to business parties or balls. But she'd always have her nose stuck in a book or would be avoiding men twice her age who tried to court her. And Mae knew that she was beautiful. She has dark chestnut brown hair that is naturally thick and wavy. Her eyes are bright blue. And with strict parents came her sense of natural independence, determination, rebellion, and strength.

Despite her rebellious tendencies, she is quite loyal and compassionate. But to this day, it remains unknown how she found herself in the woods of King County, Georgia, running away from countless bodyguards.

Or maybe she did know how. But where was Mae going? She didn't know either. This town was all so foreign to her. "You'll never catch me alive, you prick!" Mae yelled. Her parents' bodyguards were getting closer and closer. And it didn't help that her purse weighed more than ten tons of bricks. It was getting dark. She looked down at her watch and realized it had just turned 9 p.m.

She chuckled. Her parents were probably going to wonder where she had run off to. But she didn't know either. It was dark, and she was scared and alone. Maybe it was a bad idea to run away from the party. She should have stayed put. Mae's heart dropped when she suddenly felt lighter and lighter. She looked down and saw a hole in her purse. She wanted to go back to retrieve her stuff but decided against it.

Mae found herself surrounded by tall trees. She heard the sound of footsteps. "Oh, God. No. No. I'm too young to die! Please, stranger, spare me, and I will never run away from Mom and Dad again." She begged. But Mae had no idea why she was begging. "Hello?" Someone called out.

She screamed. "Oh, my God! I'm dead." Then Mae started laughing hysterically. "Woah. Are you alright there?" Someone asked. Mae looked up and saw a boy with long hair. A bandage covered his eye, and he wore a sheriff's hat. "Oh, hello. I'm Carl," he introduced.

Carl extended his hand, and Mae took it. She brushed some dirt off her gown. "I'm sorry." Carl tilted his head. "Why are you sorry?" He asked politely. "For disturbing you, Carl, and for ruining your night, well, I'll be off now," Mae said.

She turned around and started walking, but she didn't exactly know where she'd be going. She stopped and ran back to the boy she'd just met. Carl. "So, I'm not from here. Could you help me get out of these woods?" she asked, and Carl chuckled. "I can tell. That British accent gives it away."

"Don't worry, boss. We'll find her and bring your daughter back to you." The two teenagers heard loud footsteps coming their way. "Over there! I see her!" A man yelled.

And without hesitating, Carl said, "I can take you somewhere safe; trust me." Mae nodded. Carl grabbed her hand, and the two ran. He seemed to know where to go.

Around fifty minutes later, they were out of the woods and onto a street. Carl seemed to know his way around the small suburban town quite well. Carl dug into his left pocket and took out a key. He unlocked the door quietly and led Mae inside. He shut the door and locked it afterward.

"Who were those guys?" Carl finally asked after a moment of silence. "They were probably my parents' bodyguards."

Carl laughed. "You don't seem famous at all." Mae chuckled. "You know, I never got your name."

"And why should I tell you, huh?" Mae retorted. "Well, I sort of saved you, so you owe it to me." Mae smiled. "Hold your horses there, Romeo. We just met."

"But it isn't that fair. You know my name, but I don't know yours. So tell me, girl. What is your name?"

Mae chuckled. "Mae Carter. Happy now?" He smiled and said, "Like the month?"

"Exactly." The two laughed.

"Come on. You can stay in my room. My parents are sleeping, so we have to be quiet." Mae nodded. Carl's room was upstairs.

On the second floor, there were three bedrooms and two bathrooms, all of equal size. They passed a room that had a sign that read, "Judith Grimes' bedroom. Knock or stay away!" Mae stared at the sign but quickly moved on.

Carl's bedroom was at the very end. On the door, there was a sign that read, "Carl Grimes' room. Knock before entering."

Mae chuckled. "That's cute." Carl blushed. "Shut up and keep quiet." He had a fair-sized bed. The walls were painted a nice beige color, and there was a small closet across his bed. Surprisingly, his room was cleaner than most teenage boys' rooms.

Mae smiled. She looked at Carl, who was smiling warmly at her. Although they were strangers, Carl treated her with more kindness and respect than any other person ever has. She silently wished the men and women back in England were like that.

Carl was also the total opposite of her classmates. While Carl was kind, understanding, and willing to help, Mae's classmates were rude people who only cared about themselves and never included Mae in anything. And being strangers to each other didn't change how Mae saw Carl. He seemed kind and was so good to her.

No one ever treated her like that. Everyone Mae knew had always left her in her time of need. But Carl didn't run away by himself when he heard the voices of Mae's parents' bodyguards. He stayed with Mae and helped her run away from them.

Mae felt happy for the first time in forever. She was grateful to have someone around her and not be alone. She felt free and had no intention of going back to England with her parents anytime soon.

Why? Because for now, she was nobody's daughter.

───── ❝ authors note ❞ ─────

woah... after almost 5 months of contemplating this... i did it. i actually published this on tumblr. anyway the ENTIRE book is on wattpad. "words burn hard" by uselessbitch4205

anyway tbh i loved mae.

she's such a mood.

i just have to tag my bbg @hiro--aoki <33

[darkmaga-returns]

A chart making the rounds on Chinese social media lays bare the psychological toll of living in an authoritarian state. Titled “A Psychoanalysis of Contemporary Chinese Society,” it maps the bleak options facing the average citizen: exile, ennui, exhaustion, or exploitation. China Digital Times explains the chart as follows:

The X-axis measures willingness to conform to Chinese society, while the Y-axis tracks effort. It’s a grim choose-your-own-adventure for navigating life in an oppressive system:

Non-conformist/active? Emigrate and hope for a better life somewhere else.

Non-conformist/passive? Withdraw entirely — reject the rat race, and do as little as possible.

Conformist/active? Spin your wheels in endless, meaningless striving, like “Sisyphus on a Peloton.”

Conformist/passive? Accept your fate as a cog in the machine, ready to be used and discarded.

This is where China’s tightly controlled system has landed its people. A society run on authoritarian controls and the punishment of free thought has seemingly crushed the human spirit. The result, to paraphrase our friend 

Limina over at The Human Responsibilities Tribunal is that, rather than living, people end up simply avoiding dying. How’s that for a post-Turkey tryptophan withdrawal depression?