#but goddamn it I love Jonathan he’s just amazing

[emily-mooon]

HIM<3333333

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x fem! reader

masterlist

w/c 7.8k

summary: things heat up in more ways than one for the roommates, thanksgiving makes everyone thankful.

warnings: NO MINORS, language, fighting, mentions of child neglect, mentions of murder

a/n: thank you to my beta readers: @jo-harrington @sweetsweetjellybean pls check out their work they are both so amazingly talented 🩵 thank you to @blueywrites for screaming with me on certain parts of this story + @fracturedarkness for helping me plan future parts for this series.

again— I’m no longer doing a tag list for this series— this week as really opened my eyes to a bunch of shit in this world and I’m fucking pissed off about it.

“Do you think it’s enough food? Last year Mike ate all the mashed potatoes so I’m just hoping there is enough for everyone.”

The holidays were always a stressful time for most people, housewives stressing over meal planning, guest lists and matching outfits for their Christmas cards—ones that coordinated well and hid the fact that they were miserable with their lazy, limp dick husbands. Poor Nancy fell into that category all too well.

She’s walking circles around her dining room table, counting the dishes on her fingers. Ham, turkey, cheesy potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, corn, green bean casserole, a relish tray, strawberry fluff, gravy, two pumpkin pies, two pecan pies, a jello mold, two dozen caramel Rice Krispie bars, a pan of iced banana bars, and one can of jellied cranberry sauce on a crystal plate.

When Nancy asked you to join the Wheeler/Byers/Hopper’s gang for thanksgiving this year, you quickly accepted the invitation, asking if there was anything you could bring. She requested you bring the dessert. So the night before Thanksgiving, you started the tedious task of keeping Eddie from eating all the icing and caramel.

“Eddie! Have you seen the caramels I just bought? They were on the counter next to the flour canister.”

“Nope! Haven’t theen ‘em,” he answers all too quickly, “you thur you bought ‘em?”

“Yes I’m su—,”

Goddamn him.

Walking into the living room you approach the metal head, splayed out on the couch, fingers shoved in his mouth picking at his teeth, “oh Eddie?”

“Mhmm?” He hums, innocently, looking at you with big doe eyes.

“You wouldn’t happen to have caramel stuck in your teeth, the same caramel I bought and said, ‘please don’t eat these they’re for the Rice Krispie bars,’ would you?”

Rose colors his cheeks, “what? Me? Not listening? Ok O’Donnell,” he says with a scoff.

“Eddie,” you say sternly, hip thrown out and arms crossed over your chest.

“Ok! Fine! They were just so fucking good! But I’m dying right now— my teeth feel practically glued together— do we have any floss?!”

“Nance, I think there is more than enough here, you and Jonathan will have leftovers for weeks, months possibly.”

Fretting, Nancy wipes her fidgeting hands on her apron, “I just want it to be perfect— you know how I am.”

Type A, that’s how she was.

“It’ll be perfect, Nancy,” Jonathan agrees, coming up behind her and holding her around her small waist, “just like you.”

Scarlet heat accentuates her rouged cheeks. “Ok ok, no kissing the cook just yet,” she says, peeling herself from Jonathan’s arms, “can you and Argyle set the card table up in the basement?”

-

The turkey almost melted like butter on your tongue, the gravy was rich and savory. Karen’s cheesy potatoes were creamy and the crunchy cornflakes on top were to die for; the entire meal was delicious. The labor of Nancy’s love for her family and friends showing through her craftsmanship of amazing cuisine. You hadn’t seen Karen or Ted since the wedding, being the closest thing to parents you had, you were ecstatic when Karen joined you over the hot water and soapy sink, washing the china plates.

“So sweety, how have things been going lately? Nancy said you have a roommate?” Her tight blonde permed curls shaking behind her as she scrubs the pot used to make the gravy.

Drying the freshly rinsed dish, you answer with a coy smile on your face, “I’ve been good, doing better than I have in a while, yeah, I have a roommate, uhh Eddie Munson.”

“Oh Mike’s friend? He always was so kind to him, taking him under his wing and showing him the ropes in high school,” she looks at you then, her lavender eyeshadow catching the light over the sink, “I’m happy you two are dating.”

Dating.

Dating Eddie Munson.

Scenarios fly through your mind, Eddie holding your hand at the movie theater, him behind you—his chin resting on your shoulder helping you play video games at Arcade Land, watching him write songs and play his guitar, kissing his lips sweetly, deeply— moving down his neck, his chest. His fingers on your thighs—

You’re sweating.

Head dizzy and full of visions of you loving Eddie and Eddie loving you back dance in your head.

“W-we’re not dating, just—”

How would you describe your relationship with Eddie? Roommates? Friends? Waiting for him to kiss you?

“—friends,” you say, enunciating the word slowly, rolling it off your tongue.

“Well,” Karen says, a hidden smile on her knowing lips, “I’m happy you two are just friends.”

Friends.

Such a complicated word. Because you and Eddie were more than that, but definitely not dating. The tension between you was electric, and sometimes jarring, but you went to bed thinking of him every night, hoping he would just open the door to your room, slip beneath the sheets and hold you while you dreamed.

-

[Two weeks prior]

The morning after you had comforted him, you woke up alone— his side of the bed still warm as if he had just gotten up. Sleeping so soundly you weren’t sure what day it was, or the time. The alarm clock on your night stand said 7 o’clock but that couldn’t be right. You and Eddie had both slept for over twelve hours, the comforting kind of sleep that lulls babies to sleep, gentle, sweet, pillowy dreams in one another’s arms. Getting dressed for work, you slip a pair of jeans on, and change into a long navy blue cardigan, headband to match. Lacing up your converse, you open your bedroom door.

Eddie’s in his room getting dressed for work when you find him. Knocking on the opened door gently, you poke your head in, his eyes lift and meet yours, a sleepy, coy grin colors his face, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, stopping mid button on his work coveralls.

The black bandana around his head presses his bangs nearly flat, the soft waves of his chocolate dipped curls reflect the sun light with a honey oranged hue.

“Hi,” your voice is small and meek.

An overwhelming feeling of dread* clouds your mind. Where would this new found friendship and comfort lead you both? Maybe Eddie was regretting the entire night. You haven’t been on this comfort level with someone you were physically attracted to ever. Steve was like a brother to you. And Chad— you were never comfortable with him, your skin crawling just thinking of it. But Eddie? The sight of him gave you butterflies, his arms holding your waist while you slept was an intimacy you haven’t experienced before, and you wanted to relish in the feeling of it.

He fiddles with his rings on his fingers, rolling them around and around before his mouth opens to speak, “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he blurts out, looking down in shame, unable to meet your curious eyes.

Barely comprehending that he’s apologizing for being vulnerable, you walk towards him slowly. He notices your staggering steps and inches backward. His walls are back up, caged in with his feelings, barbed wire on the top so you couldn’t find a way in, electric fence surrounding the brick walls—the highest voltage imaginable.

“Ed—”

“Please,” he begs, voice cracked and broken, wavering on another breakdown, “please don’t… I don’t need your sympathy.”

Tears well in your eyes at his recoiling. How can a night of comfort turn into despair and hostility the next morning? Nose burning, signaling your brain that tears would be falling any second, you wipe your eyes hastily.

Eddie felt like his neck was out, exposed to the world, waiting for the guillotine’s blade to slice his skin, until the crimson of his blood spilled in the basket, severing his head, a trophy amongst the weak.

Munson’s didn’t accept charity, his whole life that's what he felt like to Wayne, a charity case, a goddamn roadblock in Wayne’s life stopping him from finding a girlfriend, sleeping on a real bed, forcing him to work overnight just for Eddie— he’d never forgive himself for the pain he’s caused him— and now you? Offering your bed to him, your fingers twirling through his hair as he came undone. Whimpering like an infant, coating your thighs with thick tears. Sure it felt nice to have someone there with him, to reassure him it was all going to be okay, sweet, angelic voice of reason. But when he woke this morning he felt disgusting, like a predator, a vicious wolf preying on a sweet innocent lamb offering herself to him because he was upset.

He didn’t want that for you. He didn’t want to taint your soul with his past.

“I’m not giving my sympathy,” you voiced into the void, whether he heard it or not you weren’t sure.

Eddie breathing heavily, trying to contain his emotions from spilling out of him, “good, because I don’t want it.”

He walks around you in a huff, the muted scent of cigarettes and cologne hit your nose, as he passes you and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door all too hard. Following him, you’re certain you are full fledged crazy at this point, like in a scary movie when the lead actress stays in the house instead of running away.

Opening the door, opening Pandora’s box, you push it til it swings wide, he’s hovering over the sink brushing his teeth, white and blue toothpaste decorate the corners of his mouth.

“Tooty,” he groans, spitting a dollop of toothpaste into the sink, “seriously— I don’t want to talk about it, whatever you have to say save it for the human Care Bear Harrington—I don’t want to hear it.” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Stones would be impressed with how still you’re standing, head raised waiting for him to look you in your eye. Refusing to break. A storm in your eyes threatening to flood. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I’m not acting like anything,” Eddie grunts impatiently, “are you ready?”

When you don’t say anything, he moves you out of the way, large hands around your arms, stepping around you and going into the kitchen.

Following him, you won't let up, his head in the fridge he pulls out the orange juice carton, drinking directly from the jug, “Eddie, you can talk to me about it, I’m a good listener.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, gasping for breath as he swallows the citrus liquid, “I said— I said, I didn’t want to talk about it and I meant it, I’m a grown ass man— ”

Interrupting him, not giving him time to finish you blurt, “Doesn’t make you less of one just because you’re upset.”

His teeth clench so hard they almost crack, his hands balled into fists at his sides, the orange juice container crumbling in his grasp. Years of therapy as a child did nothing to help him. And neither could you.

“Stop,” he snaps, his eyes pinched tight, a wave of fury washing over him, only seeing red. “Jesus Christ enough! I don’t need this shit right now, I’m gonna be late for work!”

He stomps towards the door, shoving his boots on haphazardly, throwing his leather jacket under his arm, the same leather jacket you had worn the night before, your perfume lingering on the inside.

The smell of you lighting his fire even more, he’s losing all self control.

“What’s your problem anyway?” he grumbles, kicking open the front door, waiting for you to follow. His eyes are wide and full of hurt, anger, crippling anxiety so deep he didn’t even know if he was breathing. But no matter how mad you looked, how many tears you kept wiping away from your lash line, he couldn’t stop.

Keys in the ignition he puts the van into reverse and yanks the wheel quickly, driving like he robbed a bank.

Anytime you try to speak he cuts you off.

“Do you like getting involved with people's lives? Why are you so desperate to know what happened? Need something to gossip about at the salon? So you and your boss can whisper shit about me again? Hmm? ”

“What the fuck are y—” you try to say, but he cuts you off again, he’s raging war on himself and on you, it’s far from over, no surrender flag in sight.

“That must be it right?” he preens, barely stopping at the stop lights as he flies to your work, tires squealing around corners, “I’m here because you need something to talk about, the well full of hot gossip of Hawkins must have run dry. Well guess what sweetheart? It’s not anything I haven’t heard before.”

He’s so clueless, so expertly out of sync with what you were trying to convey, what you were begging him to understand. The tears are free falling and you don’t stop them, screaming at him, “Eddie!”

“What?!” he barks back, chest heaving with hatred filled lungs and venomous words so toxic they’re burning your skin.

Aching soul and self doubt at an all time low you try to will the words to not shake as you deliver, “do you really think I would hold you while you were sad with any other intention than consoling you!? You were upset and the least I could do after you helped me was try to make you feel better!”

He tried to argue but it’s your turn to cut him off, holding up a hand as he fumed through his nose. He parks in back of the salon, slamming on the brakes as you both jolt forward. “Let it go, Too—”

“I care about you, you stubborn asshole!” You grab your purse between your feet and open the door and jump out.

“Just stop,” Eddie pleads, his eyes brimming with tears, “don’t.”

“I can’t,” you say back in a whisper, your voice breaking at the last syllable, you reach for the door, out of breath and holding in your sobs the best you can, “oh, and for the record— Josie was telling me to be nice to you and give you a chance— my mistake.”

Slamming the door you don’t hear him break, you don’t hear him thrust the heel of his hand into the steering wheel until it aches and burns. His nerves shooting pain through his entire arm. You don’t hear him scream and hate himself as he drives to work, his body soulless, empty, fragile.

-

“Tooty, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell Josie for the tenth time.

You definitely were not fine.

Distracted the minute you got to work, your mind raced with questions of the unknown. Hurt, confused and pissed off, you had mixed the wrong color formula for your clients hair, resulting in money down the drain from your own paycheck as you threw the mixture away and started it again, for the third attempt.

At 10 o’clock you were folding towels in the back when you realized you had bleached an entire load of darks. The once rich black towels were now faded with splotches of orange.

Eddie’s words had ripped through your heart, hurdling themselves into the deepest parts of you that were sheltered away from anyone, taking up solace in your forbidden soul, hollowing it out.

By noon you were crying while rolling a client's perm rods into her hair, having to step away multiple times before Josie gently told you enough was enough and that you should go home for the day.

Not wanting to call Eddie and get a ride you decided to walk the half mile through town back to your home on Cherry lane.

Kicking a rock with the toe of your shoe for most of the walk home, you mull over the events of the day. Wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan as you tread along the sidewalk.

-

[Thanksgiving Day]

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to Nancy and Jonathan’s? It’ll be fun!”

Eddie is leaned against the driver window of his van, his finger tracing a smiley face into the dust in the dash. “I wish I could, but Wayne and I go fishing every year on Thanksgiving— it’s a tradition.”

Every year since Eddie was ten years old, Wayne took him fishing on Thanksgiving, starting early in the morning and going until sundown, ending the night camping beneath the stars, cooking their daily catch for supper, “save me a piece of pie okay?” he finishes, ruffling up your hair, a shit eating grin on his lips.

Feeling horrible that your car was still out of commission, Eddie had let you borrow the van for the night after you dropped him off at Wayne’s. “And you’re positive it’s okay if I take the van?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Eddie’s laugh spread across his cheeks, the black beanie he has on his head inching closer to falling off every second, “Tooty,” he breathes, his brown eyes dipping into yours, “take the goddamn van and have a good time—and hurry up, you’re gonna be late.”

[2 Weeks prior]

🎶 it was the third of June another sleepy dusty delta day

I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was baling hay

Bobbie Jo’s tune was ringing in his ears all day— no matter how loud he cranked the radio in the shop, no matter how many times he tried to hum a different tune— her -* words rang through his mind like silk, coating his skin and implementing old memories he didn’t want brought up.

He was filled with fury. A ticking time bomb. It should have been no surprise when Sean and Aaron started poking at him, how unhinged he would become.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, Munson,” Sean sneers, changing the oil on the Ford truck, “your little girlfriend finally figure out you’re a fucking loser?”

Eddie had already thrown a wrench across the shop out of frustration when he realized he forgot his lunch. He slammed the hood of a blue minivan on his fingers right after morning break, and now Aaron and Sean were starting in on him.

His breath erratic, trying to breathe through his nose to calm himself down but failing. His misery over taking his nerves. He grunts through barred teeth, “We aren’t dating,”

Sean perks up at the news, his wiry mustache splattered across his top lip like a squashed caterpillar, decrepit and sparse. “Oh shit, so she’s single, huh?”

“Damn,” Aaron chimes in, his hands cupped around his junk as he shakes it back and forth between his greasy hands, “what I wouldn't give to be balls deep in that pretty little mouth, that’d shut her up for good.”

“You’re skating on thin ice, fuck rag, I’d watch my mouth if I were you.” Eddie’s shoulders are tensed, adrenaline at an all time high. Fight or flight screaming through his blood racing through his heart and speeding up his heart rate.

“Whatchya gonna do about it, freak?” Sean spits pushing Eddie in the chest, “ ‘Name the time and place’ yeah motherfucker? How about right here right now?” Standing toe to toe with Eddie, but a foot shorter he peers into Eddie’s face, egging him on.

“Ever since you moved in with that whore you’ve been such a little bitch about everything— I mean I get it, honestly— Chad always said she had the sweetest p—”

Sean chokes on the last word as Eddie’s fist connects with his cheek, his rings would end up leaving bruises in their shape on his skin for weeks to come.

Sean throws a punch at Eddie but he is quick to dodge it, years of fighting in the trailer park giving him an upper hand. Blood spews from Sean’s mouth as Eddie upper cuts him in the chin, his tongue almost split in half as he bit down from the impact.

Eddie is blinded momentarily as Aaron socks him in the eye, a deep purpling plum colored bruise that took weeks to heal. Stumbling backwards his back hits the red sun faded tool box, Sean came swinging a crow bar out of nowhere and hit Eddie in the ribs, a groaning thud as the sound of his bones shatter in his body.

Behind his back, he reaches for whatever is closest, a wrench wrapped tight in his fingers gets thrown in the air at Sean, hitting him in the throat and knocking him over onto the smooth concrete of the shop floor, gasping for breath.

Aaron tackles Eddie, sending him into the air compressor, four fists are swinging and bodies shifting as they both struggle for dominance. Eddie’s lip is cut and his eye is swollen almost shut. Aaron’s nose is dripping blood on Eddie’s shirt as he punches him in the same place that Sean hit him with the crow bar. He’s able to get a knee up between Aaron and himself and twists his body to get above him, and when he does he lays punch after punch into Aaron’s swollen bloody face.

With each rocking fist connecting with flesh, Eddie has one thing on his mind, you. He thinks about the foul way they had disrespected you. The way you had cried when you told him you couldn’t stop caring about him. How he was close to losing you because he couldn’t open up and let you in. How terrified you must have been for all those years when you were scared and alone, nobody there to hold you and comfort you. And while he’s pummeling Aaron into a bloody pulp of cracked teeth and swollen eyes, it finally clicks for him.

-

The fight didn’t last long, but was effective enough to get Eddie suspended for the rest of the work day— and Aaron and Sean got a nice week's vacation with no pay.

Eddie’s knuckles are coated in a mixture of blood and spit. His jaw aches as he drives home with one eye open, it’s the clearest he’s seen in a long time.

[Thanksgiving]

“Fish ain’t bitin’ much are they?” Wayne and Eddie have both cast and reeled in their rods multiple times with zero luck. The small boat Eddie had gifted Wayne with for Christmas 3 years ago stood at still waters of Lover’s Lake, both men chilled to the bone.

“Nah, they sure aren’t. Probably no fish left in here after the summer you had.”

Since Eddie had graduated, Wayne dropped down to part time at the plant and went to dayshift. A true dream for him and for Eddie, offering to pick up most of the bills, a silent thank you for all the years that Wayne has taken care of him when he didn’t have to, but did anyway— the only caring person in his life, until you.

The wind whips through Eddie’s hair, tugging the curls out from the confinements of the cotton stocking cap snug on his head. The once crisp autumn foliage is soggy like forgotten cereal in a bowl of milk around them from the previous nights rain, chilling the usual humidity from the air and adding a depth of ice in their veins as they shake and shiver in their jackets, Eddie in his leather jacket, Wayne in a weathered faded khaki canvas coat.

Ruddy hands with silvered rings light two cigarettes, passing one to a pair of calloused, aged hands. Inhaling deeply and blowing warm smoke in the whispering winds of the quiet fog around them.

Wayne runs a rough hand over his sunned scalp, itching the small patches of hair left, as he readjusts his tattered cap, letting the nicotine settle into his bones and soothe the stubborn ache in his jaw, like ointment on an arthritic joint, “you ever gonna bring that girlfriend over to meet me or you keepin’ her alls to yourself?”

“What girl?” Eddie says quickly, coyly, blowing smoke into the space between the two of them, hiding his mouth with the curtain of his curls, opening the coffee can full of mud and worms, pushing another worm on the end of his hook.

Wayne hadn’t talked to him about girls since he was fifteen when he walked into his room and tossed a box of rubbers at his chest and grumbled, “use ‘em,” under his breath.

Irritation blooms against Wayne’s brows, “boy, don’t play dumb with me,” he cracks at Eddie, a false stern voice in his gruff voice, “the one you’re dating you little wise ass.”

“I’m not dating anyone, Wayne.” Eddie says, pretending to be preoccupied with the tackle box full of neon fishing lures and bobbers. He runs his thumb over the rough cracked surface of the faded red and white bobber, the same one Wayne gave to him when they started fishing all those years ago. The memory brings a smile to his face.

The gruff scoff from Wayne’s throat suggests bullshit to his ears from his nephew’s mouth, a noise Eddie has heard many many times in the two decades he had been living with Wayne, one that told him that he better tell the truth, and right the hell now. No matter that he now towers over Wayne, he’ll always be his boy, the wide eyed boy with a mountain of guilt on his shoulders, his son.

And as Wayne always knew— the more he poked and prodded, the more Eddie would clam up. They sit in comfortable silence, the slight breeze rippling the water on Lover’s Lake, rocking the small fiberglass boat and swaying the two Munson men gently.

How could he describe the relationship between you and him? Not dating, but hopefully more than friends. He didn’t have many friends that he’d willingly let help him battle his inner-most demons. In fact, Gareth and Jeff were still left in the dark about it. The breeze continues to grow frigid and burrows itself between the layers of his clothing, freezing his skin and peppering it with goose bumps. The chattering of Eddie’s teeth remind him of Steve’s birthday when he offered you his jacket, and opted to freeze the rest of the night just so you wouldn’t be chilly.

It’s simple really, he admitted it to Steve, but somehow admitting it to Wayne was worse than the hit from the box of condoms against his chest.

He says it all too fast, out of breath, and barely audible. But he says it. And a smile spreads across the weathered leather of Wayne’s face, pulling his mustache up, a glimmer of a sparkle in his eye, “see, now was that so bad?”

-

[2 weeks prior]

His knuckles ache, and he’s not positive if it’s from the blows to Aaron’s face or the way he’s gripping the steering wheel. His realization while busting open Aaron’s cheek made him eager to get home. Eager to clean himself up before he went to pick you up from work.

The house is silent as he walks through the garage, his angry hurtful words bounce back to him off the kitchen walls, the counter. The orange juice was still where he left it, crumpled and misshapen.

He truly was an asshole. Hurting the one person who cared for him other than Wayne. He sits down in a chair and unties his boots, blood splattered on the toes. Peeling the sweat stained work coveralls from his body, he tosses them down the steps to the basement, leaving them for later.

He stands partially naked in the kitchen, clad in only his underwear and socks, the kick of adrenaline wearing completely off, the promise of pain against his broken ribs rings searing heat through his body.

A glance around the kitchen stills the breath in his lungs. The kitchen is a wreck from the waffle night, the colossal beginning of a budding relationship that he was currently in the trenches hoping to fix. The once silky batter is now hard, pale concrete cemented onto the sides of the glass mixing bowl. The waffle iron was open, sprayed with cooking oil that was sitting with its cap off on the counter. The plates were sticky with cold syrup and now styrofoam resembled waffles, still on the table from where you had both sat. Forks and knives laying atop the ceramic plates in a haphazard way, awaiting the return of warm hands to finish their job.

Without thinking he starts to clean up, filling the sink with hot water, scraping the food from the plates into the garbage, putting away the orange juice and the left out butter and cooking spray. In no time the kitchen is sparkling and Eddie’s body is screaming at him to rest. The cuts on his knuckles are cleaned but swollen, soap stung from the water. His side aches, adrenaline slipping away with every growing minute.The pain is almost unbearable.

A clicking noise from the front door has him turning suddenly, a slight panic in his nerves as he stands stone still.

-

A block from the house, your tears return, cold, and stuck to your face like ice on poles. You’re exhausted, stomping the entire way home drove shin splints up your legs, the cold cramping dull in your calves. Thinking of Eddie the entire way home you are dumbfounded— completely and utterly confused at his reaction. How could he not know how you felt about him? Why was he begging you to stop? Wondering if you’ll ever get the answers to those questions you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan. If he was going to guard himself again, and put the barriers back up— so could you.

The door is stuck as you try to open it, pushing and shoving your shoulder into it, it finally gives, stumbling your way into the living room in the most ungraceful way. The scent of freshly wiped surfaces sting your nose and stop you dead in your tracks. You weren’t expecting to be relieved from seeing Eddie, but the relief is short lived as you notice the deep violet and indigo bruise painting his eye.

“Ed—,” you gasp, covering your mouth as you run towards him, foregoing the screaming in your legs, “wh— oh my God!”

His eyes melt at your appearance, scarlet rimmed eyes and wet cheeks take him in, eyebrows dipped into unease and apprehension. He feels your hesitancy, thick like fog surrounding you both as you reach your fingers up to his cheek. Ice cold pads of your fingertips skim the tender skin of his face, brushing the wispy hair of his bangs from his eyes with your fingertips to get a better look at him.

He doesn’t speak, barely breathing at your gentle touch on his face. The frosty coolness of your fingers burn his skin with every silky movement of your hands. He tries to avoid your eyes, avoid the pain he knew was from earlier and his cowardice.

Fingers dancing along his skin, you scan over his torso, the same way you did on the morning after Halloween, the bruising from the mishap of the steps is replaced by a pattern of splotchy deep bruising.

“They’re broke,’’ Eddie groans, his split lip ripping open, from him trying to force a smile, “looks cool though right?”

Using humor to deflect the true way he feels was an easy defense mechanism for him, but you won’t bite. Won’t take the bait he’s dropping into your waters, won’t nibble at his small offering.

Trying not to break, you stand your ground, “what happened?”

“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” Eddie says, eyes casted downwards at your hands near his ribs, “I was just having a shitty enough day— my own fault—“, he adds quickly, his eyes flicking to yours, not wanting to put salt into the already festering wound he created, “I—uh—I took care of it.” He says in a final explanation.

“And now I’m going to take care of this,” he motions between you both, sliding his hands down your arms and settling them in your hands.

“Tooty— I,” he exhales as deep as his lungs will allow given the break in his ribs, spilling his stitched up heart to you, letting the walls fall with each word, “I’m sorry— I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I do or say will ever amount to how shitty I feel for making you cry, for pushing you away. I’m a coward when it comes to this type of shit, and it was too heavy— too muddy for me to explain. I figured if I’d shut you out you’d go back to how it was before— before Harrington’s birthday, before Halloween befo—,”

A shake of your head and a sharp intake of breath come from your body. Did all of this mean nothing to him? The flirting, the gentle touching, the sweet gestures? It was all just something he wanted to forget?

Voice small and shallow, “Is that what you want Eddie? To go back to how it was before, when you first moved in?”

A single tear falls from your face, and without thinking, without second guessing himself or wondering if you would think he was being weird, Eddie is quick to brush it away with the curl of his forefinger. His swollen knuckles are tight and achy. He tries to hide a hiss from his teeth, wanting to live in this euphoric moment for as long as he can, as long as you will allow him to. He extends both hands now to your face, his rough thumbs rubbing over the expanse of your cheeks, fingers behind your ears, curling into your hair.

“I want,” he breathes easy now, as if the touch of your skin on his fingers mended his broken bones, his eyes soft where it allowed, one still swollen shut, “I need you to know that I care, too— and I don’t want you to ever quit caring about me— baby, I’ve cared about you for years—- and I can’t get myself to stop.”

And when a sob breaks from your chest, he pulls you into him, “c’mere,” the sensation steals the breath from your lungs, you’ve never been touched with such gentleness, such care. He’s holding you as if you’re glass. Fragile, cracked and held together with shitty Elmer’s glue that was a tempting snack for children. It’s so delicate the way he’s stroking your skin.

Minutes or hours pass you’re not sure. His warmth engulfs you, his musky cologne and spiced deodorant is a gentle blanket around you. Wrapping you in a swaddle of his admiration.

His hair tickles your cheeks, tattooed arms are twisted in your hair,and wrapped around your back. The shine of your tears coat his bare chest, his chin rests on top of yours breathing in your hair shushing you gently.

You spend the night working Eddie’s rings from his already swollen fingers, pressing ice packs to his bruises and spreading neosporin on his cut lip, rubbing it gently with the tip of your finger, Eddie giggles at the concentration on your face and the way your tongue is poked out.

He’s infatuated with the way you make him feel. His heart soaring higher and higher with each delicate touch of your fingers on his skin.

He’s up late that night, stomach full from your homemade chicken noodle soup and his heart even more full. Flying higher than cloud nine, your sweet face on his mind.

-

[Thanksgiving]

A sadistic voice echoes from your tv screen, “a little young for ya isn’t she Richie? BEEP BEEP RICHIE!”

Richie Tozier sips the Dixie cup of water, leaning against the bookcase in the Derry library, Pennywise continues his antics of torture as balloons drop from the ceiling, popping with blood spluttering on the library go-ers faces, oblivious to the fantasy nightmare Pennywise ensues.

The front door opens with a thud as a shriek and the popcorn bowl on your lap goes flying through the air. Eddie walks hurriedly through the door. A shivering spine of fear and realization hits you all at once. His boisterous laugh reverberates the living room walls as he picks popcorn from your hair, and places it in his mouth, a loud crunch between his teeth as he plops down next to you on the couch.

“Think you got your holidays mixed up, sweetheart— it’s Thanksgiving, Halloween was last month.”

Rolling your eyes you make a face to mock him, which only fuels his fire and has his cold fingers jabbing into your sides and tickling you so hard you scream out. Begging him to stop.

“Don’t!,” you squeal, holding your breath and giggling at his unrelenting tickling. He finally gives up after your face has gone red and your hair is a mess, laughing tears rolling down your cheeks.

Eddie sits back on the couch taking a huffing breath, a wild smile spreading from ear to ear, “that’s what you get for watching IT without me!”

Scoffing, you pick up the bowl of popcorn and the paled yellow crunchy kernels spilled on the ruby red throw blanket, “wait, weren’t you supposed to be camping with your uncle tonight?”

Eddie breathes out a sigh, bending at the waist to gather the kernels off the floor. The rest of the fishing trip with Wayne, Eddie spent it quieter than he had ever been, contemplating his next move, how could he show you that he was serious? How could he let you in? Show you his ugly past without scaring you, without you running for the hills? The answer was easy.

“I have something— somewhere I wanna show you,” he whispers, standing to his full height. Looking for the familiar mischievous glimmer in his eye, you are surprised by the genuine sparkle replacing it. His face his earnest, almost a look of doubt on his lips, scared of your reaction.

He peels the blanket from your lap and reaches down, his hand held out extended to yours, “come with me?”

-

The air is bitter. The driveway is glittering with a sequined frost, dancing with the shine of the street lights. Warm breath fills the inside of Eddie’s van as he slots the key into the ignition and fires it up, cranking the heat. Snuggling further into your knitted scarf, hiding the chill of your nose as Eddie backs down the driveway, heading out of town.

It doesn’t take long to get to where he was going, the drive in silence had you questioning what was going on in his mind. The path was overgrown, hidden from the road, hidden from anyone who didn’t know that it was there. The headlights of the van bob along with each sunken hole on the dirt drive. Jostling the van this way and that.

Nestled into thick trees past an old loose and corroded barbed wire fence, in place for property lines, sits a small house, paint chipped and barely visible. The roof was caved in by a large tree falling on it, the sagging porch still had bleached yellow crime scene tape hanging on by threads to the moss eaten pillar.

Eddie throws the van in park, sniffling slowly and looking around. “This uh,” he stutters, clearing his throat, “this is where I lived with my mom, my old man was in and out most of the time—drunk or in jail, I don’t remember him being here that much except the last time.”

Silence is golden, and you give him your undivided attention as he twists in his seat, bent knee leaning on the door frame.

“That,” he says pointing to the fallen tree in the back, “was an apple tree, apples this big around I swear,” he motions his hands in a circle, a chuckle in his throat, “we didn’t live here for very long, a year, or two maybe…”

His voice fades, and at first he second guesses bringing you here. He can imagine you piecing this puzzle of woe together, his life. The tragic tale of Eddie Munson, he didn’t spin a web of luxuries for you to pretend with him for a moment, a second, that he was anything other than what he was—but when your cotton gloved fingers slide into his, interlacing them—it gives him the courage, the resilience to continue.

“…I was six when it— when she was… he—,” he trails off, unable to finish, but it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. The abandoned house, the barely-there flicker of yellow tape, she wasn’t only dead— she was murdered, by his father’s hand.

Comprehending what he’s getting at, you can practically hear his heart breaking. Eyes never leaving his face, you take him in, his eyes are wet as he blinks back tears, using his other hand to pinch the inner corners of his eyes, and hide behind his hair, his face is ashen, once ruddy cheeks from when he came home and tickled you is now swallowed by stale ash, sucking the life from his eyes, his cheeks, his soul.

“.. right in front of me…” he hangs his head low, sniffing quietly, “Wayne took me in after that.”

Eddie and you were alike in more ways than you had thought, although your parents were still alive, they were equally absent from your life, much like Eddie’s parents. Sure you both had people who took care of you, and as sweet as the gesture was, it was never really the same. The aching torture of having to defend for yourself, put a brave face on for your temporary care takers so you don’t seem like a bother to them, so they won’t worry about the weight of taking you in— was all too familiar.

“Eddie,” you whisper softly, rubbing his hands with your thumbs.

Yearning and breaking for him, the cords of your heart reach to his, tethering them together as you slide over the center council, and carefully land into his lap. He’s surprised at first by your brazenness, but once you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him into you, he melts like chocolate at your heated touch.

Your fingers tug into his hair at the nape of his neck, his nose and lips make their way in between your scarf and your neck, the slight chill against your skin sends goosebumps down your spine, a throbbing in your core.

Realization spreads through your heart, your brain, the hair follicles on your head, the painted nails on your toes. Holding him, him holding you, his arms around you, your arms buried in his hair, his fingers rubbing patterns into your back as he sighs deeply and regulates his breath—for the first time in your life, you realize this is what love feels like.

To be loved and to be in love. It was undeniable. Right? Friends didn’t do this. Roommates didn’t do this. But two people who cared deeply for one another and were bonded together by more than just traumatic circumstances? That was love.

In this moment, nothing else matters.

It’s just you and him.

Him and you.

The flutter of your heart short circuits as it seeps hot sticky love all over your face, blooming warmly in your cheeks. Grasping him tighter, you pull away, settling your forehead into his. Whiskey poured eyes staring back into yours, for a brief second you swear you can feel his heart flutter with yours, beating as one.

Eddie doesn’t play his music loud on the way back. A comfortable echoing still in the van as it clunks along the road. His voice barely above a whisper when he speaks. He feels satisfied. Happy even? Like the weight of the world was off of his shoulders by you simply knowing his past. You didn’t ask questions and in the moment he didn’t need you to. His arms wrapped around you was more than enough, your fingers twirling in his hair, the smell of your perfume behind your ear. The way you let him grieve, let him take you somewhere he hasn’t gone in years, was something he’d appreciate for a lifetime to come.

Once home it’s like any normal night, only he doesn’t tease you. He doesn’t fight over the bathroom or use your toothbrush, he doesn’t argue when you pop Christmas Vacation into the VCR, even though you can quote the entire movie. He’s completely engulfed by you, watching you brush your hair, the extra roll of the waistband of your pajama pants. The ridiculous colors of your fuzzy socks you insisted on wearing now that the weather was colder.

He’s never felt nervous around a girl before, usually throwing himself around, showing off his exquisite rack like a stacked buck in rut, rubbing his antlers on trees, showing his mighty dominance.

But you weren’t just another lonely girl looking for a night with a lead singer, or a girl pretending to be in love with him just so she could score coke from his supplier while also fucking him behind his back, and you definitely weren’t a faceless girl that he plowed to forget it all.

Meaning much more to him than just some silly fuck, or a high school “sweetheart” that ended up being a heartless cunt, or a dumpster for his cum.

No.

You were much more than that, to him.

More than a roommate, more than a friend, more than Eyeball’s bratty fucking sister.

He could write sonnets about the little lines in between your brow when you pulled your eyebrows together, usually when you were mad at him. He could sing songs about your laugh, not the small polite one, the loud one, the one that rang every doorbell to his heart and and he gladly answered. He could hum a tune of gratitude about your cooking and the silent ways you care for him and your close friends. He’d get his ass kicked by the entire male population of Hawkins if it meant keeping you safe.

You were it for him.

The only one to make him feel, the only one he wanted to see at the end of the day, in the morning when he got up.

Watching you giggle and let out a yawn, he places a couch pillow between his hip and yours gesturing for you to lie down. He almost goes into cardiac arrest when you move the pillow entirely, your head resting in his lap. A sleepy smile on your face as you tug the blanket under your chin.

Yup.

You were it for him.

And he's a sucker, addicted to the way you made him love you so effortlessly.

hope you all enjoyed this volume! volume ix is where it heats up 🔥

@big-ope-vibes @br0ck-eddie @b-irock @loveshotzz @mopeymopeymouse @shiftingtherain @courtingchaos @nightonblogmountain @word-wytch @ghost-proofbaby @hanobe8 @abibliophobiaa @joejoequinnquinn just a few of the coven 🩵🩷

READ MORE

This is for you

*sacrifices 🖕🏼

[rogueddie]

Friends With Benefits Steddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 👀

let me be your (every)thing

starsdontsleep

Nancy has broken up with Jonathan and the moment Eddie hears the news, he realises his "thing" with Steve is about to be over.

Words : 2,882 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences (Mature)

AO3 : x

tangled up in barbed wire love

twelvexclara

“You’re so fucking—”

Before he can finish what he’s saying, Eddie grabs him by the shoulder, switches their position. Presses him into the door harshly and his head thumps back into the wood, sends a spike of something through his veins. He’s got a forearm at Steve’s throat, digging into his pulse point.

Daring him to say something.

He blinks dizzily up at Eddie, ignores the hinge digging into his back. They share breath, panting at each other, frozen for a moment. Steve’s heart is a hummingbird in his chest and he hopes, prays even, that Eddie can’t feel it.

Words : 39,260 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Say Something Stupid

murdertrashbabyrat

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit fuck, goddamnit.

Steve cannot fucking believe he’s realizing this right now, when he is literally inside Eddie, cannot believe he is watching this man smoke a goddamn joint as he rides him and thinking oh shit, I love him.

Words : 6,159 Chapters : 4/4 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

It was only a kiss

corrodedbisexual (mishabawlins)

Steve and Eddie's nighttime coping with the horrors of their past brings them close in ways Eddie never would have expected. But that's all it is. Moments of mutual comfort, a fun distraction from the endless string of nightmares.

...Or is it?

Words : 5,377 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

if my body told the truth

literaldisneyprincess

“Hey, hi Eddie, hey, it’s Steve. Uh, do you know anything about cats?” he asks.

There’s a pause. “Steve, did you get a cat?”

Words : 19,321 Chapters : 3/3 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Friends and Benefits, and Maybe Something More

oddermoths

“You know Harrington,” Eddie set his arm on the armrest of the chair. “If you weren’t straight, I’d kiss you silly right now.”

“Then do it,” Steve found himself saying before he could think.

Or, Steve and Eddie enter into a friends with benefits relationship, and Steve finds himself wanting more.

Words : 6,445 Chapters : 5/5 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

How to Be a Heartbreaker

literaldisneyprincess

Steve has a plethora of methods under his belt for getting his conquests to leave soon after they’re both satisfied. He’s used them all, with varying rates of success.

He doesn’t have much experience in getting someone to stay.

Words : 8,715 Chapters : 4/4 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Are You Flagging?

soidade

“Look, I’m just asking, okay? Not– I don't mean anything by it. But, uh.” His eyes darted back and forth, then he leaned in close to Steve. Steve had gotten used to that, kind of. The guy had no concept of personal space. “Are you flagging?” Eddie finally finished.

Steve shook his head slowly, eyes narrowed. He had no idea what that meant. He had no answer. “What?”

Eddie leaned away from Steve, facing forward again and nodding. “Okay, got it. That answers my question. Carry on.”

Words : 40,991 Chapters : 17/17 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 8th

Today we pick up where we left off with our good friend Jonathan!!! I hope he’s having a wonderful day!!!

I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had never come.

:(

If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with, and he! —

Every day this story reads more and more like a Beauty and the Beast retelling��� 🦇🌹

I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I could not sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count's voice saying to me, "Good-morning."

JUMPSCARE

I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment.

Uh-oh.

When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat.

At least buy him dinner fi — oooooh so that’s what all this food was about… got it… carry on…

I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

"Take care," he said, "take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country."

THE CRUCIFIX WORKS MY FRIENDS

"And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man's vanity. Away with it!" and opening the heavy window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave —

HOW IS THAT EVEN A TOPIC OF CONCERN RIGHT NOW JONATHAN

The castle is on the very edge of a terrible precipice. A stone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching anything! […]

But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit.

The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

A PRISONER WHO CAN’T EVEN SHAVE!!!!! (and shouldn’t)

Of one thing only am I certain; that it is no use making my ideas known to the Count.

Smart.

[The Count] did not come at once into the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and found him making the bed. This was odd, but only confirmed what I had all along thought—that there were no servants in the house. When later I saw him through the chink of the hinges of the door laying the table in the dining-room, I was assured of it; for if he does himself all these menial offices, surely it is proof that there is no one else to do them.

It’s not his fault his love language is acts of service 🥺

This gave me a fright, for if there is no one else in the castle, it must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that brought me here.

HOLY SHIT I DIDN’T THINK OF THAT

I must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion.

May I suggest you STOP WRITING YOUR GODDAMN JOURNAL AND BURN THE WHOLE THING THEN

In his speaking of things and people, and especially of battles, he spoke as if he had been present at them all.

HAHAHA… Haaa…

Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace;

You would think that, wouldn’t you.

(Mem., this diary seems horribly like the beginning of the "Arabian Nights," for everything has to break off at cockcrow—or like the ghost of Hamlet's father.)

:))))))))))))

Guys… I don’t want to alarm anyone… but I think… I think the Count might be… you know…

… a werewolf…

< Prev 🦇 Next >

[nburkhardt]

Having those sad thoughts, now putting it on the boy 😔

It’s moments like this that makes him want the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

Everyone is gathered today for the first time in a while, he doesn’t even remember the last time he even saw some of them. He’s been working so often and still lives in Hawkins, unlike most of the group now.

It’s good, things are good. He’s pretty happy or well, okay. He’s good though, pretty content even. Life is fine.

It’s just, standing here having only needed a few minutes to get them caught up in his daily life.

(Wake up, get dressed, eat, and go to work. Come home, relax, maybe call Robin or Eddie. Feed himself and repeat.)

Everyone else? Robin? Nancy? Hell, even Dustin? It’s been an hour and Dustin and Claudia won’t stop talking about how good school is going and they’re waiting on the letters for colleges! “Can you believe that Steve?!”

Nancy’s well on her way up some journalism company, can’t wait to get her own spot in the newspaper! There’s some course Robin’s in the middle of that’s been keeping her up at all hours. Oh and didn’t you hear? Jonathan’s thinking of moving back to California for photography!

“- and today, El got accepted as a volunteer at the new animal shelter! It’s such wonderful news, don’t you think Steve?”

He forced a smile and nodded, about to open his mouth when Joyce patted his arm with a “oh! Karen’s here, hold that thought I’ll be right back!” Before walking away and he gets to drop the smile.

Wishing he could just leave the party but he’s Robin’s ride and she’s definitely having fun catching up with everyone. He’s already said his piece to those he asked.

“eh, life’s pretty good. Been just saving up to get an apartment with Robs. Ya know?” And “I haven’t thought about it much, college just didn’t- seem right? I’m just focusing on work right now”

He can’t even take an hour talking about himself now. It’s over and out within minutes. None of the here adults really want to hear him go on a rant about basketball and he can go on forever about his car, but no one wants that information. Robin and him talk about those daily, even if she doesn’t understand half of it.

So, he’d really like for everyone to stop asking things or bringing up accomplishments of others, “I’m just so proud of my boy, my little genius!”

“Will’s painting is really taking off! Jonathan’s photography skills is so much better now, look see!”

It’s really getting to him and he wants to leave. Doesn’t feel like anyone is even listening when he does get to talk about himself, which is dumb because he loves these people.

The thing is, he just feels stuck. Feels like a has been, like he was this once amazing toy that got thrown outside and forgotten. He hates this, hates that his life isn’t anything to talk about, hates feeling like he’s doing nothing with his life.

How is he goddamn twenty-one years old and feel like nothing about him is good enough to talk about?

Robin reminds him daily that his brain is being dumb, that he’ll figure things out soon. It’s just not the right now for him, that he’s only twenty-one and there’s so many more years ahead of him. It’ll hit even eventually, that to stop comparing people.

He knows that, really he does.

It’s just, a lot. Okay?

Ending it there before I ramble myself into a rabbit hole.

Welp I had thoughts and now I’m feeling a bit better but goddamn I’m seriously feeling it. There’s no tears or anything but even with music blasting in my ears + my edible hitting, my brain won’t shut up about how I’m twenty seven and stuck.

How I’m still working a retail job, holding myself back from getting the GED I need to even apply to a cosmetology school. And that whenever anyone asks me for an update all I can say is ‘well I just bought this cool new funko!’ Or ‘nah I’m just taking walks and nope, still haven’t changed my mind about kids’ and sure, yeah we shouldn’t compare ourselves to others because that’s just shitty thinking but I can’t help it 🥲

I’m stuck and even when I do start talking hobbies or thinks I like, everyone just doesn’t care? Or well they do but they don’t understand and sometimes judge me on what I do.

Idk I’m just feeling things and venting using my fave person. Just venting and getting this out.

Also I’m sure I’m not alone in this feeling. So if you also feel this, I’m sorry 💜 our time will come!!

[beauty-and-passion]

TMA - Chapters 41-50: Everyone is Michael

Hello people, welcome back to the beginning of TMA season 2! Ten more chapters are waiting and I am ready to find out if this season is gonna start with a bang or not.

I have high expectations.

<< Main Masterlist < Previous post 

_______________________________

MAG 40.1 - Season 2 Trailer

Oh, a trailer! And it was… absolutely incomprehensible and cryptic af. All I got is that a trapdoor should’ve been locked, which translated from author-to-reader means: “The trapdoor is open and some weird supernatural shit will come out of it during the season”.

Well played, Mr. Sims. Now I really want to know more.

_______________________________

MAG 41 - Too Deep

Ooooh, statement of Jonathan Sims? And it’s about the recently discovered tunnels! I love that we start season 2 directly from where we left in season 1: Jon is recovering, Jane Prentiss is recently dead (I suppose they burned her, considering the ashes) and there are a shit ton of tunnels to explore.

Also, Jon is now paranoid. Great, that’s exactly what he needed.

Jokes aside, this is an amazing choice from a writing perspective, because it’s perfectly justifiable. Jon got assaulted by Jane Prentiss and her worms on July 29th, now it’s September 2nd. It’s been a little more than one month, of course he’s still haunted by the idea that Jane (or other things) might be alive and spying on him.

Even if the feeling of being watched is not just paranoia. I bet everything that it’s Big Brother’s fault for that.

And just to confirm my words, it seems that the Archives have been built on part of this ex Millbank prison, which was built by following the idea of the Panopticon. You know, the prison centered around the idea of making the prisoners feel like they’re always watched, thanks to the central tower.

I love the idea of the Panopticon: it’s extremely cool and I’m very happy to see it here too… but it also proves I am right and Big Brother is some supernatural shit who watches everyone and has something like one million eyes or whatever.

The goddamn weird tunnels. And what about that incorporeal voice telling Jon to leave, right after inviting him to go down? I am extremely curious now, I want to know more! Who was it? Big Brother? Another supernatural shit?

Ah, so Jon will now add supplements to the statements, hide them from his staff just like he hid the existence of the second tape recorder and will put these parts away with precise instructions for his replacement, in case he dies. Great, so he’s this paranoid. Basically one step away from being pathological.

Fine, from one side, I can understand him because he faced some heavy shit not too long ago and he cannot trust anyone. So his sentence “Trust can get you killed” is understandable.

But I also watched Gravity Falls and I’ve learned that “trust no one” doesn’t help, especially if there is a demon watching/haunting you. So please, Jon: please. Be safe. Don’t pull a Dipper Pines on us. Don’t force me to start calling you Jon Dipper. Or Jipper.

And trust someone before some bad shit happens. You’re trying to find Gertrude Robinson’s killer and we all know it was Elias (don’t “first suspect” me and yourself, we both know it was him). So, since Elias already killed one person and he’s in cahoots with the Lukas family, you REALLY need as many allies as possible.

_______________________________

MAG 42 - Grifter’s Bone

Here we are, back with simple, meh statements. This time, it’s “weird supernatural band kills with their weird supernatural music”. It’s a shame we don’t see how they do it, I would’ve loved to see the whole process. But I also understand that leaving this to the reader’s imagination is a good choice to make something scary.

Also, Alfred Grifter looking up after the massacre and asking “Encore?” is probably the most badass move of the series until now. He might be some minor supernatural shit, but that was a real power move. I respect him a little bit after this.

Glad to notice Jon’s skepticism is back too, but after the end of season 1, now I know why he does it and I understand. Also, his skepticism doesn’t seem as “stubborn” as before and that’s another great writing choice because it shows how all these supernatural shits are affecting him.

Also, since Jon is in Paranoia Land now, I suppose that emphasizing skepticism helps him hide his true intentions, which are… sigh, controlling Martin. Seriously, can this poor guy take a vacation? First the worms, then Jane Prentiss, now Jipper. Martin can’t even be competent, that his boss will question it - all while insulting his poetic skills. The paranoia made Jon even more of an asshole than before.

What? Martin is worried about the others finding out he’s been lying? Lying about what? Jane Prentiss? His supposed incompetence? His poetic skills? His need to go on vacation? In any of these cases, don’t worry, Martin: just take your stuff and go as far away from this Institute as possible.

I still dream something like this for Martin.

_______________________________

MAG 43 - Section 31

I feel Basira will be a recurring character from now on. I mean, she is currently working on Gertrude’s case and she is a Section 31 - i.e. she dealt with supernatural shits before. But she’s not the only one: we also have Alice “Daisy” Tonner, who came in contact with “spider husks” and, for me, that means one thing only: “Spider Mom & gang”. So I bet these two women will probably be involved again with any other supernatural shit happening in this Institute.

It was also very cool to find out the name of the guy from MAG 12: Diego Molina. And I remember that, when he and Gerard were brought to the hospital, Gerard asked if Diego had “a small book bound in red leather and a brass pendant with an eye design”. The eye pendant is probably related to Big Brother, while the red book basically confirmed it was one of Leitner’s chaos books. I already suspected this considering Gerard was after that, but glad to see an implicit confirmation.

Speaking of the supplement, Jon gained access to the tapes in Gertrude’s room and I’m glad about that because we will surely find something cool and scary. But I’m also sure that’s the easiest way for Jon to get himself killed, so I’m a bit scared for his life.

Also, how weirdly cute is this part?

“I only ever spoke to Gertrude once or twice during her time as archivist. I-I was very new. I don’t remember what her voice sounded like.”

Jon sounds so young, here. Almost like a child. I mean, I imagined he was in his thirties or something, but I actually have no idea how old is he. Is he younger? How old is he?

Also, it’s just nice to see this little moment of him being so… soft and human, with his predecessor. He barely knew her, he barely spoke to her, he probably looked at her and saw just an older, stern figure. But now, he’s in the same position. They became a lot closer than they ever were. It’s fascinating - and there’s a lot of potential for angst too, so I’ll brace myself for it.

_______________________________

MAG 44 - Tightrope

A statement recorded by Gertrude! it was such a pleasant surprise to finally hear her voice! And she sounds amazing <3

As soon as I heard it was a statement from a guy in Algasovo, I felt it was connected to something I already knew. I remembered there was a circus mentioned in season 1 and, after a little bit of research, I found it: MAG 24, Цирк другого: the Circus of the Other. Ringmaster Gregor Osinov and organist Nikolai Denikin - whose granddaughter recorded the abovementioned statement.

Sure, here it’s called Другой Цирк, which is correctly translated as “Another Circus”. So my question is: which is correct? Did the circus change its name? MAG 44 is from the 70s, while the photo mentioned in MAG 24 was from 1948. Maybe the circus was called Цирк другого, then it changed its name after Denikin left and became Другой Цирк. Anyway, it was very interesting to read and I was so sure it was the smae circus mentioned before (despite the different names). So when Jon mentioned Gregor Osinov, my smile grew bigger than ever :D

Speaking of Jon, he asks some very interesting questions: Gertrude knows a lot more than it seems. And she didn’t finish recording everything in the archive. Why? Was that her way to oppose Big Brother/the Lukas family/the “crimson curse”? Maybe Big Brother can “eat” these statements, so by stopping her recordings, Gertrude was voluntarily leaving it hungry, as a sort of “fuck you, I won’t get eaten by you” kind of thing.

Or maybe she just wanted to not do her job anymore, thus provoking the Lukas family to fire her for not doing anything. Or maybe she was just too busy trying to find a way to escape, to record statements like an insane you-know-who who keeps recording stuff because he wants to find out the truth even if the truth can get him killed.

Did someone find Jon’s tapes? Or is he in full Jipper mode and maybe the drawer wasn’t even ajar? In any case, now he’s hiding them too, which reminds me of Gertrude and her secret hidden library and I don’t like the parallel at all. I don’t want to see Jon dead on a chair, in a room, surrounded by his secret library.

_______________________________

MAG 45 - Blood Bag

Another meh statement, even if this time I’m quite perplexed by the weird turn of events.

I mean, once Dr. Thompson sold his syringe, there was a sudden spike in heat, the ‘haemoglobish’ became real blood and the mosquitoes decided to wait for their moment to kill the doctor. They’re a lot of weird consequences and they don’t seem too connected either - especially the heat. Why is there always some heat involved?

While speaking of the mosquitoes planning revenge… yes, this is the most plausible thing. These little bitches always plan revenge on everyone.

So, the doctor’s buyer is “Indonesian, I think, or Samoan”. It’s Salesa, isn’t it? Yep, Jon confirms it. Well, I suppose he will be another recurring character. And if Gerard can smell Leitner’s book, Salesa can smell any supernatural shit and make a profit from it. In this case, I suppose the syringe was a real lucky charm or whatever, considering how everything degenerated once the doctor got rid of it.

“Can’t stand mosquitoes. Horrible things.”

You and me, Jon. You and me. Glad to know that, even if he’s in full Jipper mode, he can still be very relatable.

I know Jon was super paranoid with Martin, but he might have a point about Tim. I mean, a guy with this resume decides to work in a place that isn’t so appreciated by normal people? And he doesn’t seem too interested in the supernatural either. Why is he here, to bribe people to get info and do whatever the fuck he wants? If that’s the reason… honestly, mood. I loved him before, I would just appreciate him even more for the power move.

Jonathan Sims, Master at Hiding Things, gets caught by Martin in 0.2 seconds because he’s so clever to record his paranoid thoughts in the middle of a working day, in a place where everyone can enter. A genius.

But now I’m curious to know where he will go to record these statements. I can almost see him, all crammed up into a closet, while Martin searches for him with a cup of tea in his hand.

_______________________________

MAG 46 - Literary Heights

Oh gosh, I LOVE this chapter.

First of all, as soon as Michael Crew was mentioned, I immediately checked the previous chapters and here he was: MAG 17, the Boneturner’s Tale. Also, if my last theory is correct, Michael Crew and Supernatural Micheal are the same thing. And you know what? I think this statement confirmed it. But one thing at a time.

Second: my man Leitner! Ex Altiora my beloved! We finally know where it was and what it is! It’s a poem and I ADORE the plot. It’s such a perfect mix of weird, suspense and desperation… uuuurgh, I’m so mad I can’t read it, because this plot can be developed into a fantastic story.

And now, let’s put together all the pieces we have:

Michael Crew is interested in the Leitner.

Michael Crew has “a branching pattern of white scar tissue” on himself.

Jon reminds us that, in MAG 4, Mr. Swain said there was a “woodcut of the dark night sky, with the branching, arching design of the Lichtenberg figure” inside Ex Altiora.

This drawing isn’t mentioned by Mr. Knox here.

Lichtenberg figures have a branched shape, similar to the shape of lightning discharges, and appear on the surface/inside insulating materials during dielectric rupture. But they can also appear on lightning victims.

They are also “natural phenomena which exhibit fractal properties”.

In MAG 4, Mr. Swain says Michael Crew got struck by lightning when they were kids.

Michael Crew is surrounded by smells associated with lightning and electric discharges.

Michael Crew has been followed by a tall, thin figure, “its limbs angular and branching”.

Supernatural Michael has angular and branching limbs.

Supernatural Michael Is associated with fractals too.

The figure also “crackled and fizzed, lit by a strobing white light, as though the lightning was within the room itself”.

When Michael Crew reaches the bell tower, the prays something with the words “altiora,” “vertigo,” and “the vast”. then he says “I’m yours”, leaps through the open window and disappears.

Now, here’s my explanation:

Micheal Crew was followed by a supernatural shit. This supernatural shit was the same immense figure mentioned in the poem of Ex Altiora.

Micheal probably came into contact with it when he was a child and got struck by the lightning. Since then, he started to resonate with Vertigo/the Vast just like Jane Prentiss started to resonate with the Hive.

(Also, since Jane Prentiss’ supernatural shit was “the hive”, I think I’ll call this one “the vast” because it was a bit odd that he specifically said “the vast” with a definite article)

So, since Michael Crew came into contact with the Vast and started to resonate with it, he was accompanied by smells associated with lightning/electric discharges and he started to search for all kinds of magic books, trying to find a way to properly connect with it/being consumed by it, just like Jane Prentiss did with the Hive.

In Prentiss’ case, she connected through the wasps’ nest and got “consumed” by the Hive. Michael Crew tried to do the same by using different methods mentioned in the books, but failed. He had to find something stronger to connect to the Vast. And that something turned out to be a tale featuring the Vast itself, told by my man Leitner.

So Michael got it and waited for a storm. And as soon as the storm came, he ran towards it, calling for the Vast. And when the Vast appeared, it looked like that figure similar to an actual lightning.

Michael sang/prayed for it (please notice how Mr. Knows refers to his words like a chant first and a prayer later, just like Jane Prentiss talked about the song of the Hive. These little shits truly talk through songs) and closed his invocation, by saying “I’m yours”, which can be also read as “I give my body to you”.

And so, he jumped. And by doing that, he gave his body to the Vast and the Vast became him. And that turned him into Michael the Supernatural Shit, also known as Best Boyo of this series.

If all of this is true, then:

it’s very cool

his name isn’t Mr. Distortion, but Mr. Vast. Still cool, but Best Boyo is better :P

And if this is true, that also means my previous Leitner theory was completely wrong. His books don’t turn you into the protagonist: his books are about the real, actual supernatural shits living in this world and by getting the right one, it’s easier to connect to the supernatural shit in question. They’re like… facilitators, in a way.

That also puts into question Gerard’s work. What is he actually doing, by searching and destroying all Leitner’s books? Maybe he’s saving the world, because without books it’s more difficult to connect to these supernatural shits. But destroying the books doesn’t mean getting rid of the supernatural shits themselves and these books might actually be useful to recognize all supernatural shits and “catalog” them. I don’t know, I need more info about these two guys and what they’re actually doing.

And yes, there’s also Spider Mom taking possession of the hidden tunnels of the institute and she’s probably the one who opens the door and maybe she even walks around in her human form and that’s very cool too. Just… how fricking cool is this statement?! I think it’s among my top favorites, along with MAG 2, MAG 5, MAG 20, MAG 26 and MAG 39.

(Now that I think about it, I should probably do a top of my favorite statements once I finish the whole series. It would be fun.)

_______________________________

MAG 47 - The New Door

Holy shit. Just holy shit.

I thought this was just a simple statement. A statement featuring a tall blonde guy. And yes, I was 200% sure it was Michael. But I just though he appeared and did some weird supernatural shit.

For a while, he did it: he made a door in that house, Mrs. Richardson got lost inside it for three days and escaped just because one of the mirrors was “empty” and didn’t reflect Michael. So she did what everyone who met a supernatural shit did: she went to the Institute. My theory about “hiding behind a bigger predator” seems even more convincing.

I loved the little moment when Mrs. Richardson asked Jon if he believed her and Jon admitted that yes, he believes her. It’s a tiny exchange of words, but it’s enough to show the massive change in Jon from season 1. Before, he would’ve been more stern and showed more skepticism (fake or real whatsoever). But now, after all he went through, he’s showing a softer, more empathetic side. Jon is truly evolving as a character.

And speaking of characters, time to talk about the real shit and time to overanalyze everything:

*

Michael’s voice is perfect

First of all, I ADORE Michael. Sorry Tim, you deserve the world, but Michael’s soft laughs and the way he gently mocks Jon because he’s this powerful supernatural shit while Jon is just a mere human it’s just too adorable. His voice is too adorable. And the distortion effect makes him very creepy - but still extremely adorable. I love him so much.

*

Domains?

This part about domains is very fascinating and, in a way, it confirms my theory about the supernatural shits having territories like mafia bosses.

But it seems like they don’t simply take a place and own it. It’s a bit like they are these places. As if these domains are an appendix of them. So I suppose Michael doesn’t simply “make doors pop up”: he is the doors and the corridors. such a cool concept, it makes these supernatural shits look even more eldritch and… well, supernatural. Love it.

But also: if my theory about Big Brother is correct, does that mean Big Brother isn’t just hidden in the Magnus Institute, but is the Institute? Mmmh, I need more details.

It’s also very interesting how Michael refers to Mrs. Richardson as “the Wanderer”. Since it doesn’t seem like Mrs. Richardson is a supernatural shit, I suppose that “the Wanderer” is a name to identify the people who enter the domain of a supernatural shit and become food. But since calling them “food” isn’t nice, Michael (and maybe other supernatural shits) opted for a more sophisticated name, like “the Wanderer”.

Also, Michael reconfirms he’s a poet and I love him so much.

*

The concept of identity (and maybe my theory already failed?)

That’s another interesting part. Michael considers itself a “what”, because “it requires a degree of identity I can’t ever retain”. And this connects to its domain: since it’s so huge and can “overlap” reality by creating new spaces inside it (inanimate spaces), it was probably easier for Michael to identify itself as a “what” rather than a “who”.

But this distorted appearance made me think: wait, probably my brand new theory about Michael as Mr. Vast is completely wrong.

If Michael’s power is being distorted and making weirdly long, distorted corridors (that confirms Michael was probably the voice who told Jon to leave, when he explored the tunnels in MAG 41), that doesn’t line up with the previous statement, where the Vast’s power was related to lightning and to being this colossal figure.

At the same time, Michael laughs with a weird, distorted effect as if it’s more people in one figure and this detail seems coherent with my theory.

So I think there are two possible solutions now:

my theory is correct and Michael can both be hugely vast and very distorted

my theory is wrong and Michael Crew just offered himself to another supernatural shit

Or maybe the correct option is:

3. Mr. Sims is the biggest troll of all mankind and he made a series in which every supernatural shit is named Michael and this explains why everyone is named Michael and why Michael is such a familiar name. If this is true I would respect him even more.

Jokes aside, I really need more information now. Especially I need Michael (this one at least) to talk about itself and its powers. And maybe all other Michaels should talk a bit about themselves too. At least enough to confirm if my theory is right or wrong.

*

A war?!

No, wait, you cannot drop this bomb, tease us like this, then leave. Stay here and explain!

Okay, so the Institute is important. It should stay where it is, because losing it would bring imbalance in the hidden war that’s going on - between supernatural shits, I suppose.

In MAG 41, Jon said the Archives stand on an ex-prison, built around the concept of the Panopticon. This could explain why this place is needed: a place from where you can spy on everything and everyone is a great leverage in a war.

My question is: what are the sides of this war? I suppose that one side is Big Brother and maybe the weird supernatural fog of the Lukas family, but the other? The supernatural meat? And the spider gang? On which side was Jane Prentiss with the Hive?

And what are they all fighting for? To take over the world? To eat as many humans as possible? Or maybe the “All Michael theory” is correct and since all these shits are named Michael, they decided that the last one standing will officially take the name Michael and all others will have to choose another name? All while Best Boyo Michael decided “fuck this shit, I’ll keep this name anyway because it’s just a name and my identity is more than this”?

You know what? I love the All Michael Theory. It’s stupid and yet it somehow works. If it’s true, it would immediately turn the whole series from dramatic to comic, but I love it.

_______________________________

MAG 48 - Lost in the Crowd

Oooh, a statement settled in Italy! Never visited Genoa, but now it deserves a visit. After all, I already think about this goddamn series every time I see a spider and have to kill it, so why not going to Genoa and fearing weird supernatural shits? Apparently, they love to go anywhere. Was this one taking a vacation?

Speaking of vacations: honestly, I never expected to see my man Gerard, rebel punk and goth, chilling in Italy with a bright shirt on. I hope you’re also wearing some nice shorts, Gerard. And no combat boots. Or sandals with socks. The Italian fashion police can be way worse than any supernatural shits.

So, my man went to Mrs. Nunis, told her she was “marked” and told her to think about her mother. To remember her. To, you know, feel less alone. I immediately thought about Naomi and how she too felt alone, when the mysterious fog tried to “eat” her in MAG 13.

But this time there wasn’t really a fog: the sunny day simply became overcast. So maybe the fog isn’t supernatural but… the clouds are? But then, what about the weird fog from MAG 33? Or maybe, the fog simply hides the real supernatural shit, which is this weird faceless crowd. And this time the fog was on vacation too.

Or maybe Italy’s weather is too warm for the thick UK fog, so the fog dispersed and left only the crowd. I’ll admit it, it would be hilariously funny if a supernatural shit is simply an atmospheric element end you can get rid of it by traveling far enough or by using, idk, an electric fan.

So one question remains: what was Gerard doing in Italy? Was he truly searching for a Leitner? Or maybe he was really taking a vacation? I like to think it’s the second one: unlike Jon “Trust No One” Sims and Martin “Self-preservation is overrated” Blackwood, my man Gerard knows when it’s time to get the fuck out and take a vacation. So he left all the supernatural shits and books to chill on a beach, take a cafè and eat some real food.

Great choice, Gerard, Genoa is a beautiful place.

Speaking of the supplement, Jon realized Michael was warning him about Sasha! But unfortunately, thanks to Not!Sasha’s evil powers, Jon cannot understand what the problem with her is. Damn you, evil imposter! Give Sasha back!

Jon “Jipper” Sims, Master of Secrecy, after being caught by Martin in 0.2 seconds, got caught both by Martin and Tim again and they both immediately realized Jon was spying on them. So they reported him to Elias.

See? See where “trust no one” brings you, Jon? Please, stop spying on them like a creep. why don’t you start spying Elias, instead? He’s the most suspicious guy that ever walked on this planet, why the fuck are you wasting time with your team when you have him?

_______________________________

MAG 49 - The Butcher’s Window

I read the title and I immediately was: “The meat is back, isn’t it?”

But it’s not just the meat, it’s our old friend Jared! And he does incredibly weird creepy things! And I like them, because they’re creepy without being gorey. You know, it’s just too easy to use gore: scaring without gore is harder and I appreciate it.

Also, what the fuck is the weird… underground superleech he’s feeding? Is that the boneturner? Is this the name of this supernatural shit? After all, every supernatural shit seems to have a name that starts with the definite article: the hive, the vast, the boneturner.

And if we add up all the things we discovered until now, that means that Jared became the Boneturner/the body of the Boneturner thanks to the Leitner’s book that “facilitated” the connection and, since he became that thing, that thing also became him. So the underground creepy superleech is still part of him and by feeding it, he’s feeding himself too.

You know, the whole process of feeding it was creepy, fine, but it made me smile too because… come on, it looks like a guy throwing snacks at his dog. That’s funny.

But not as funny as the mental image of this weird superleech I got, that resembles something like this:

This is a sea lamprey. It’s not a leech, but it’s the closest animal to represent what I imagined. And yes, this is a real living creature on this planet. You’re welcome, glad to know this will haunt your dreams too.

A-ah! We finally got more info about Elias! I knew it was weird that he managed to go from filing clerk to head of the Institute, but I had no idea he became head of the Institute just in five goddamn years. What did he do, did he kill everyone else? Did he kill James Wright too? Did this man also “die on the job” as Gertrude?

Also, how absolutely, insanely funny is it to think that Elias was a pothead? I read it and I was like… what? This guy?! I always imagined him like a posh guy and now you tell me he was smoking crack or whatever? That’s too funny, I love that and it would be hilarious if that’s the reason why he killed everyone else: not because of the Lukas family, not because of the supernatural shits: just because he wants to hide his past.

_______________________________

MAG 50 - Foundations

Oooh, another old statement addressed to Jonah Magnus! I suppose that’s how the Institute started: with this guy walking back and forth inside his house, surrounded by creepy stories. A bit like Jon now. And nope, I don’t like this parallel.

The story itself is very meh. It’s not really creepy nor scary, just “mysterious guy appears outside an office” and “fingers on a stone uuuh”.

This statement probably served to remind us about Robert Smirke’s existence. Jon probably forgot, but I remember that in season 1, he said Tim mentioned him an architect he was obsessed with and this architect was Robert Smirke. So I suppose this guy is important.

We also have Sir George Gilbert Scott now. When Mr. Kempthorne said Scott’s projects had odd symmetries and seemed claustrophobic, they reminded me of the underground tunnels of the Institute. Is it possible that one of these guys is responsible for the construction of the ex Millbank prison? I suppose only time will tell.

I died laughing when Tim thought Jon was hitting on Basira. How he went from “That woman is weird” to “Good job boss, get her”. He’s the best, I love him.

_______________________________

In conclusion

Oh my, what a start for season 2! We have more Michaels than ever, too many theories and lots of mysteries I still can’t grasp.

I want more. I want to know more about Michael, I want to find out which theory is correct. Is Michael Crew one of the many identities of Best Boyo Michael? Is Michael vast and distorted or they’re two different Michaels? Is every supernatural shit named Michael? Is Elias just a pothead trying to survive in a world full of supernatural shits? Is Gerard still on holiday?

We’ll meet back soon with ten more chapters.

>> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

TAGLIST:

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[mrhowells]

Smallville 4x16

*this episode put me through it, also the character building for Lois is perfection (also, if you see any typos just close your eyes, it was late and I was emotional)*

Clark looks so suspicious😭😭 Jonathan too, the way he's eyeing that food lmaooooo

Please😭

"I'm willing to sleep in the barn." "No that's okay, Lois can sleep in the barn." LOL Clark

sass levels through the roof today for him

Look at how proud Lois is listing all of Lucy's achievements😭 She's the best wtf I love her

"Wow, that's impressive. What happened to Lois?"

He has the time of his life dragging her PLS

"You're gonna find that Clark's charm is an acquired taste, much like his sense of fashion." he had that coming

Lois said TRY ME BISH

pls even Lucy is noticing the tension😭

she wasn't playing with that shoulder punch💀

Yeah, Jason is not letting those stones go💀

I really feel for Lana, I feel like she just lives in constant fear bc there's always some weird shit happening around her

Lucy flirting with Clark, just pls no💀

"Lois I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but ever since Lucy came to town you've been grumpier than normal."

I love this whole conversation between them🥹

Also Clark making it so obvious he's an only child from a loving family, bless him

"You might be a little rough around the edges but as far as sisters go, Lucy could do a lot worse." EXACTLY

anyone who has Lois in their life won the lottery, not even an exaggeration she's the absolute best🤷🏻‍♀️

"I guess there was just a part of me that was always jealous she got out and I didn't."

LOIS BBY LET ME HUG YOU LET ME LOVE YOU

the way she's like 'oh fuck I was vulnerable, gotta blast🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️', same Lois, same

Clark looks so worried too😭

this is so wholesome🥹

I think those electric shocks left him with some permanent damage because Jason seems obsessed now👀

Okay let me rephrase, he doesn't just seem obsessed, he's completely unhinged. They fried his brain🤡

Clark is in disappointed dad mode again, he's so natural at it too😭

"You're not mom alright, so stop trying to be." That hurt me personally, goddamn

LMAOOOOO

also, is this the first episode where we see Lex and Lois in the same frame?👀

Lucy you snake

LOIS DON'T YOU EVER SAY OR THINK THAT

To everyone who contributed to her feeling this way, I just want to have a talk

This is breaking my heart, the world doesn't deserve her😭😭

Their dad really failed at parenting HARD

no because this hurts fr, I want to hug her so bad

she deserves to know that she's wanted and loved, SOMEBODY TELL HER

I can't get over the fact that she thinks that her life is less important than that of her sister

Clark defending Lois is something that can be so personal😭 (She deserves a good support system and friends who have her back idc)

I'm getting very emotional about this excuse me

You know I love a character when I need everyone else to love them too. Like I need every other character on this show to appreciate how amazing Lois is.

"I'm a product of my father's breeding. He needed an heir. But your parents chose you out of love."

No because that's so important and I think it explains why both Lex and Lois are so (for the lack of a better word) fascinated with the Kents.

(ok I paused the episode and wrote like 4 paragraphs of character analysis prompted by that quote but idk what to do with them and if they make any sense, maybe I'll make a separate post🤡)

I need you guys to understand how much it means to me that he really cares about Lois😭

Not even in any sort of romantic context, just that someone genuinely cares if she's okay or not because she's obviously never really had someone take care of her😭😭😭

I mean listen, good for Lionel that he's not an absolute monster anymore but he really needs to stay out of Lex's business💀💀

WAIT A MINUTE HOLD ON.

HOLD ONNNNNN

Did Lana vandalize her own apartment? Or did she just hide the stone and whoever searched for it didn't find it? In any case she's learning how to play the game, good for her😌😌

Okay, first of all: More reasons to love Lois, she's self-aware and she can admit when she's wrong about something. Seriously I love her.

Second: Again, they way she's ready to be kicked out of the farm for something that wasn't even her fault??? MR. SAM LANE, SAMMY, GENERAL LANE, I'D LIKE TO HAVE SOME WORDS WITH YOU. Seriously though, this speaks volumes about how she grew up and it breaks my heart.

Third: The way she tries to be so casual and 'Lois' when she says it, I have very similar defense mechanisms and again, it hurts my heart.

"Yeah... actually I came here to tell you we have food in the oven if you're hungry."

Lois learning what unconditional love looks like through the Kent family is the only thing that matters to me, actually

"You know, all these years I thought I had my sister pegged but... in reality? She's a complete stranger to me." "Even if that were true, I think that if she called you tomorrow you'd be there in a second to help her."

I CAN'T DO THIS RIGHT NOW, HE DOES KNOW HER😭

SHE KNOWS HIM TOO😭😭

"I guess that explains why we're friends." "Oh, we're friends now?" "Well, I mean, I won't tell anyone if you don't."

Yes you are and I'm so glad bc you're the most amazing people to ever exist😭

Clark deserves someone like Lois in his life and Lois deserves someone like Clark in her life, yes I'm on the verge of tears AND WHAT ABOUT IT

CHEMISTRYYYYY

shoulder punch my beloved🥹

CHEMISTRYYYYYY

do you think these people knew they just created perfection?😭

🎶now it all begins🎶

written in the stars and all that, I love my OTP

More importantly though, I love Lois Lane she's everything and she deserves all the love in the world.

[bbarican]

wicked part 1 - a love letter ----- 👸🏼🧙🏻‍♀️🧹🐒❇️

if you've been following me for a while now, you'll know that i love musicals; not for clout, not for bragging rights, but i genuinely and passionately love musicals and theatre and cinema and music and movies that makes you feel alive - so when two of those things come together, its nothing short of magical

i actually dont remember how i discovered wicked now that im thinking about it but all i know is that ive been a fan of the musical since i was still pretty young. from witnessing the magic of the musical itself being performed on stage, to even hearing the songs from the musical being performed on glee, and from every car ride with my brother where we would belt out the entire score, its safe to say that wicked truly does have a special place in my heart. so when i, along with everyone else in the world, found out that a movie was being made that was sticking to the original plot and songs from the musical, i was ecstatic.

fast forward to yesterday when i finally got to see it in the cinemas, i was so happy. plain and simple; yes i cried at some points, was even shocked at that one part (obviously without spoiling you guys), but as i recall what i felt about the movie, all i can muster up is that im genuinely very happy with it.

jon chu did such an amazing job with not only sticking to the plot and obviously not straying away from the original score, but for some reason and i think maybe he's the actual wizard - he made it even more magical than it already was on stage.

and don't even get me started on the casting - (im getting emotional as im typing this down) cynthia is the perfect elphaba; whenever she cried, i cried; ariana is hands down the most amazing glinda EVER - i dont even know the proper english term for how i can describe her pero sobrang ligalig niya which is by far the most perfect depiction of glinda's character but when it came to being serious, she delivered; jonathan bailey?! goddamn. his smolder? his aura? his dance moves? his singing? as someone who's only ever been aware of his work thanks to bridgerton, this was the most refreshing surprise ever.

and not to make this any longer than it already is - the movie was just perfect. if you think its a bit too long, its the same thing if you watch the actual musical which makes me now realize im glad they split it into two parts cause then my butt wouldve been numb the moment the movie ended. from the cinematography, to the art, to the not-so-little easter eggs, to the casting, and ofcourse to staying true to what the musical makes you feel - its just one of the best musical movie adaptations ive seen in a really really long time.

[theysherobinbuckley]

baby👏🏻butch👏🏻robin👏🏻buckley👏🏻

first of all. they/she robin supremacy

they don't cut their hair but they start keeping it kinda short. short enough that it's basically a flatter version of steve's hairstyle. he jokes that she's stealing his look and she jokes back that it works better on them. it does

they start wearing some of steve, eddie, and jonathan's old clothes, mixing shit up and getting some of her own pieces until their wardrobe is perfectly curated to their style

she wears steve's old khakis when they want to be a little fancy. eddie gifts her a pair of loose black cargo pants that didn't turn out to be his style at all. jonathan's tshirts and sweaters end up in their closet but they never admit to stealing them. jonathan doesn't admit to leaving shit at robin's house for them to "steal"

robin is a pioneer of dirtbag lesbian chic. she wears ties over tshirts and layers flannel and jean jackets over everything they wear

steve takes her shopping somewhere far away from hawkins and they get a nice pair of steel-toed work boots. they love stomping around in them and generally causing a scene. she and eddie have a competition to see who can wear the highest platforms

now that she's out to their friends, the party starts experimenting with their genders too! el still doesn't like her shaved head but she starts wearing mike's button downs. lucas tries wearing more jewelry and max finds that she really likes buying it for him (for his birthday she organizes the whole party into getting him a bracelet with a charm for everyone on it. it's very heavy but he loves it). eddie tries a skirt and loves it but really only wears one with ripped jeans under it. dustin surprises everyone by immediately declaring that their pronouns are they/them too because "that just makes so much sense, like, why do I have to be a he just because I was born a certain way?"

most of the time they act all loud and proud abt being a butch lesbian (bc they're more comfortable in their skin and because their friends are all so accepting) but it's still hawkins indiana and it's still dangerous, so they make sure they don't go out alone too often or at night at all. the guys and nancy usually have her back and drive them wherever they need to go

another sad one: robin finds that now that she's presenting more masculinely, other girls don't want to talk to her anymore. they don't want to be called slurs or assumed gay just because they hang around robin. this includes vickie and robin is Very sad about it

nancy comforts her saying that the right girl will love robin for who they are and not what other people think of her. they'll like robin's new self and not just tolerate it. robin only sort of believes her but nancy is really adamant so she might be onto something

"any girl would be lucky to have a boyfriend like you, robbie"

oh! boyfriend sounds nice!

robin didn't even know that about herself, but nancy's so smart (and beautiful and thoughtful and funny and amazing and-) that she figured it out and just put it out there! like it was nothing! but it's everything robin never knew they wanted

sometimes when robin needs to revert back to her old self, maybe for family stuff etc, nancy will lend them clothes and do their makeup, and nancy will almost cry at seeing how miserable robin looks

she will then gently wipe all the makeup away and say "there you are!" when robin is clean-faced and back to themself. she'll put together a Real robin outfit and clap excitedly when robin is finally smiling again

then nancy will stand on her tiptoes and kiss robin on the cheek and say "it's good to see you again" as robin blushes bright red

later that night robin calls steve and tells him everything because goddamn it's nice being nancy wheeler's boyfriend and they will brag about it until the end of time

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Yes, I Sat Up All Night to Finish This One

Very occasionally, something wild happens and you end up sitting up all night reading a book. In my case, my sister literally messaged me on August 8 with a screencap of the Red, White & Royal Blue Amazon release date (August 11) and was like "Want to do a watch party when this comes out?" And so, dear reader, once I was off work at 10pm, I grabbed this book off my physical TBR pile and dived in. I had expected to take a couple of days to just barely get it read before we do the watch party. Reader, I sat up all night and inhaled this book in one sitting. Let's talk Red, White & Royal Blue.

*SPOILERS BELOW THE BREAK ON THIS ONE*

I'd be lying if I said I picked this book up for any reason other than a cute premise expecting it to be kind of kitchsy. I was pleasantly sursprised by this book! It has some weight to it, it has real stakes to it, it has fun, it has heart, and holy cow I am in AWE of how well Casey McQuiston differentitated their character voices in emails and text messages. That is challenging for writers, and they knocked it out the park.

Alex and Henry are quite literally the most adorable couple, and in the spirit of this book, I want to share the text messages I was sending one of my dear friends as I was reading. Yes, it's unhinged. Yes, it's all caps. Yes, you can skip to the rest of the review if you want, I won't take it personally. For those of you sticking around, here we go:

1:31 am

HOW IS THIS BOOK SO FUCKING ADDORABLE!?!?!?!

2:03 am

AT ONE POINT HE THREW OUT JONATHAN SWIFT TO WATCH HIS PRESS TEAM HAVE A CORONARY!?!? I AM IN THIS BOOK AS A HOT GAY PRINCE AND SOMEHOW THAT FEELS APPROPRIATE!?!?!?!?!?!?

2:22 am

HIS MOTHER MADE A POWERPOINT TITLED INTERNATIONAL ETHICS AND SEXUAL IDENTITY DEBREIF *SEE ATTACHED BIBLIOGRAPHY* IN A GODDAMN LOVE EMAIL I AM DYING

2:48 am

HE HAS A KEY TO THE V & A

3:18 am

ZAHRA AND SHAAN ARE YOU KIDDING ME OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!

4:02 am

THE YELLOW ROSE OF TEXAS ON HIS GODDAMN TIE SERIOUSLY!?!?!?!?! Oh my god that book was too darling for freaking words

Unhinged, all caps reactions are not usually my thing for books, but uhhh...it was extremely warranted for this one.

Romance novels get a lot of crap, even the ones that end up as NYT Bestsellers and film adaptations, but honestly as someone who dabbles in writing, I am blown away by how well this book was done on every level. The writing was great. The character work was phenomenal. The plotting was tight and well paced. The premise 100% did it's job of getting me in the door.

And it was GENUINELY SMART and genuinely well researched. There is gay history, there is a solid and nuanced understanding of English literature, and when Alex and Henry get to the point of exchanging passages from historical love letters, it was absolutely incredible.

Oh, and DID I MENTION THE STAR WARS ALLUSIONS??? Because the star wars allusions are there, they're wonderful, and honestly I need fanart of the Alex and Henry and Han and Leia mural.

In addition, the book has significant weight to it, because you have two young adults--one who is, in his own words, "very, very gay" and the other who is just discovering his bisexuality--who are struggling with the realities of being public figures trying to overcome the collective conservative prejudice against LGBTQIA+ people in two countries while also being immediate family members to heads of two different states. That is given exactly as much weight as it warrants, and poor Henry just needs a hug and a safe space, because JFC that poor guy is being smothered to death by English conservatism.

There is also Alex and Henry's desire to do good in the world and to actually do something with the places in history they have been handed, and wrestling with what that means when expectations and reality absolutely do not match up. Navigating that as an early twenty-something is never easy, and most of us don't have to do it in the public eye.

Overall, this book was amazing, I loved it, I inhaled it, and I cannot wait to watch the Amazon adaptation. I seriously recommend picking it up, because it's DARLING.

[witchthewriter]

tag game: stranger things edition

Thank you @maniac-maniac-maniac for tagging me!

Btw anyone can play if they want to! Don't feel like you have to wait to be tagged 🦋

Ride or die ship (your otp)

I- I don't really have one... I don't like Mike and El; she's on another level. I think I have to ship a couple, it would be Argle and Jonathan?? Or Robin and Vickie. Oh! Robin and Nancy!

Most annoying ship

Mike and El... I hate how she feels as if she isn't good enough for him while she is literally the main character? And I can't have El being insecure because my girl is BITCHIN' 👏👏👏

Second favourite ship

Me and Eddie <3 <;3 <3

Favourite platonic relationship

STEVE AND ROBIN! They are platonic SOULMATES! Absolutely amazing chemistry by the actors.

Underrated ship

Joyce and Jim; they were already Mother ™ and Father ™ even before going on their date at Enzos.

Overrated ship

Mike and El, AND Steve and Nancy. I mean I do like the trope of Female Character Has Big Ambitions with Boyfriend Who Has None. But Steve and Nancy are too dissimilar. As well as Nancy and Jonathan - there is no chemistry there.

One thing I would change in canon

Eddie's death duh.

Something canon did right

... Introduce Eddie, I'm SORRY I'm being annoying but c'mon he is the best thing about the goddamn show. It was boring for me before.

A thing i'm proud of creating for the fandom PLEASE BRAG ABOUT YOURSELF I WANT TO SEE/READ YOUR ART

It's so old, but my Vampire!Eddie Boyfriend headcanons. Looking back it could do with a lot of editing, but the idea that Eddie was actually turned into a vampire because of the bat bites was brilliant (credit to whoever came up with that first).

A character who is perfect to me (wouldn't change a thing)

I got TWO, season 1-3 Hopper, because I really loved his whole punch first ask questions later. And his weight, I loved his weight. I think his weightloss in season 4 wasn't just for Stranger Things, I think he genuinely wanted to be skinnier. Which ... I mean his body his rules, but I loved him more when he was heavier tbh.

And OBVIOUSLY EDDIE. HOW DID THEY COME UP WITH THE PERFECT CHARACTER?! They could have made him a one, maybe even two sided drug dealer who couldn't graduate high school. But no, he has so much heart and SOFTNESS. I actually fell in love with him after the cafeteria scene, when he was with Chrissy. He just became this caring, open, kind guy who also had a LUNCHBOX full of fcking DRUGS.

The character I relate to the most and why

You already hate me by now because I've spoken about Eddie so much, but yeah ... Eddie. It's one of the reasons why he's so well-loved. The outsider, the one everyone thinks is weird - I think all can relate on one level or another. Especially growing up ... not so well off. Seeing Eddie live in a trailer but he's still so popular; it gives a lot of gratification (if that's the right word?)

Character(-s) I hate the most and why

Mr Wheeler - he is literally such a shITTY DAD. WTF. In his daily life he doesn't care about his family, or show any interest in them.

STEVE'S PARENTS - WHERE ARE THEY? WHAT ARE THEY DOING? I mean they could be travelling for work but that's still neglect.

Billy - if he wasn't a good looking character no one would like him. In the original script he was actually supposed to called Lucas the n-word because he's racist. And in the scenes with Lucas, there are underlying motifs that show his racism. So, yeah, I hate racists.

Martin Brenner aka Papa. Motherf*cking asshole.

Something I've learned from the fandom

Um... that the majority of us really love big-haired, soft-hearted, drug dealers? I mean okay, I don't really get into fandoms anymore because of bad past experiences. I guess what I've learnt then, is that everyone has their own opinion - doesn't mean yours is wrong or any less valid.

Three tags i seek out on ao3

I don't go on Ao3 a lot, but Hopper, basically just Hopper omg ahahha. Or soulmate AU.

A song I strongly associate with my otp/favourite character

I gots no songs I associate with my otp but I do for Eddie - The Sails of Chiron by Scorpions. It's a bit of rock but also ... really sensual?? I found it because Eddie made me fall in love with 80s heavy rock.

No pressure tagging: @sardonic-the-writer.

[five-miles-over]

Rambling about Tom Hiddleston to cure my writer's block

Okay...where do I begin with this?

To begin with, I love thee...with a depth and passion that I have never felt for anyone else in this life and if it astonishes you, it astonishes me as well.

Thank you, Mr. Hiddleston for introducing me to what is probably one of the most romantic things I've ever read and heard. A letter that I will consider as one of the most non-cheesy/schmaltzy and poetic love letters ever, something so beautiful that it can make a chubby, bespectacled cynic like me believe in true love.

Thank you for being open about your love of Shakespeare, and for talking about how Shakespearean plays have impacted you. Hearing you talk about the plays and literature you're passionate about will never get tiring.

Thank you for being a great example of how to show class and intelligence in the face of something as fickle as show business. Thank you for being living proof that being a genuinely nice person actually works, that even the smallest of good deeds can have an impact.

Thank you for making my friends' lives in high school a lot easier. IRL, I was friends with two Hiddlestoners (who also identified as Cumberbitches) and they were some of the coolest people I've ever known. I still remember being fourteen or fifteen years old when one of them took out their smartphone and showed me a video of Hiddleston dancing on Chatty Man, which was the first time I'd ever heard of somebody named Tom Hiddleston.

Speaking of which...thank you for blessing the internet with your love of dancing. Thank you for making me feel comfortable with dancing after I spent the first twenty years of my life absolutely despising it. Something about Hiddleston dancing just made me think, "If he can do it,...maybe I can give this a try. I'll try."

But watching Hiddleston dance also makes me imagine how in about eleven or twelve years, this guy could end up being a chaperone at his son's school dances/parties. Sorry, just had to get that one written down somewhere.

That aside, I really want to see Hiddleston do more movie/television roles. Not at the cost of his personal life, of course. That would be mean. I wish for more because he's talented. He has a way of embodying the characters that he chooses, be it Sir Thomas Sharpe, Jonathan Pine, or even a goddamn Jaguar villain that make them amazing to watch. He's someone who seems to enjoy the creative process behind telling a story/bringing a character to life. And he's more than capable and he's got range.

I want to see him play another villain, someone cold-blooded and ruthless, with Machiavellian tendencies. I want to see him in a romantic comedy, or at least a film in which he gets to fall in love and have a happy-ever-after, riding off into the sunset. I want to see him play the role that wins him his first-ever Oscar. And when he does win that Oscar, you can bet a million cups of tea that I'll be on my feet, applauding and cheering for him.

[sols-dreigroschen-blog]

on today's episode of Sol reviewing Threepenny Adaptions, the 1989 Mack The Knife movie

it was... cool? idk what to feel, some parts i enjoyed a lot, some very little, overall i am certainly happy i watched it but i probably won't watch it again

the main negative point for me was the music, i really, really didn't like the translation they used - i think it's the original Blitzstein one? i am familiar with the altered Blitzstein version that was used in the Broadway adaption, which i personally think is both the most aesthetically pleasing one as well as the closest to the original text (both in actual text as well as in Vibes™); the Donmare Warehouse one is too "edgy" (or shall i say crude?) for my tastes, and the one used in this movie was too tame AND too goofy, also the text in some parts didn't have anything to do with the original, like, at all; this really spoilt my enjoyment of the whole thing a lot

visually i was also not that much of a fan? my first thought when seeing the set was the Muppets' Christmas Carol, and it didn't really go away; the costumes were very hit or miss for me, some i loved a lot (Polly's costume with the top hat when she visits Mac in jail, the whores in general and especially Jenny, Jonathan's coat and changing hats), some were terrible (whatever Celia had going on but especially that horrible nightcap, Polly's costume in the beginning which looked like she wandered over from the set of Little House on the Prairie); i also thought the ensemble dancing scenes absolutely terrible

i don't have much of an opinion on Mackie's portrayal, he was fine, but nothing special to me, i was kind of indifferent to him, which was a little odd, since i loved Raul Julia in the Broadway staging, dunno what was the point here

Polly was also pretty boring to me, but then again, the movie didn't give her much to do, she was a little too much on the naive side for my tastes

for the first time, i really liked a Jonathan! he was tall and lanky and had a certain sleazy conman kind of vibe, which i think is essential to the character, the only thing i didn't exactly like was that he was very tame and more on the comedic side? he felt not cynical enough, and also not at all religious, which is an important facet of his character to me

Celia was nice, definitely not my favourite Celia, but her and the Jonathan played really well together, i didn't like it how she was just a bumbling drunk and nagging wife for most of the movie, but in the scenes where she wasn't, she was amazing! also i really loved that Jonathan was tall and lanky and Celia short and chubby, which is how i imagined them while reading :D

Tiger Brown was surprisingly good looking, the Filch surprisingly terrible looking, Lucy was very good although personally i would have switched the actresses for Polly and Lucy

my absolute favourite however was JENNY, she was absolutely flawless and perfect, the acting was great and she looked almost exactly like i imagined Jenny to look, tall, frizzy red hair and a big, aquiline nose, she just lacked the freckles and she would have been straight from my head, she even wore a black lace dress similar to the one i painted her in; this opinion might or might not be influenced by how goddamn GAY i am for this woman

the street singer was a really cool addition, i like narrator type characters like this a lot and he was very fun; the whole Suky Tawdry thing was less to my tastes idk it just struck me the wrong way; the ending was very Brechtian, but didn't fit with the decidedly un-Brechtian rest of the movie, so it just felt eh to me; also i sorely missed the Second Threepenny Finale (it's one of the best songs!!! how could you cut it!!) and why has seemingly no adaption ever the Kampf um das Eigentum scene between Polly and Lucy in it, why do y'all hate FUN! (maybe i should be thankful this had Lucy at all)

some details i liked a lot included the expanded conversation between Jonathan and Celia in their shop, the fact that Lucy bit Polly's fucking ankle during Eifersuchtsduett (please don't show me a staging that doesn't have this ever again), lots of funky hats, the whores in general and their costumes and set design in particular, the fact that Polly's parents both have a brogue and she hasn't, the chariot chase, the fact that the window scene with Mac and Celia was included (it's one of my favourites!), and last but not least the way the Ballad of Immoral Earnings was done almost making my cry

[flowinniego]

I’m avoiding scrolling the stranger things tag freely just yet as I don’t want to be spoiled. Bae and I are enjoying the (re-, for him)watch together. That said, I wanna rank my top 10 favorite characters and my least favorites after finishing season 2. Mainly because I’m not sure exactly who is where on that list just yet; I have a general vibe.

1.) Will and Hopper. I genuinely cannot put one higher than the other without fucking up the rest of the list; but I’ve adored Will since the first season (imagine my heartbreak he was barely in it LMAOOO.) His actor’s rent was past due in season 2; I still can’t believe how powerful his performance was. Also, it’s not a pity favorite; I think despite everything Will suffers, he still retains a sweet nature. He’s truly endearing. As for Hopper, he is such an interesting goddamn character. Not even in just an angsty cop who is well intentioned kind of way. He is genuinely good with people because of his own painful past. I also love how quick his brain moves, and then his body follows. Bro should move his lips faster though to communicate so he doesn’t get stuck again 😬

2.) Dustin is my boy. If Will and Hopper weren’t such integral plot players, he would be my #1. Despite not having the biggest roles in the plot (unless I’m already forgetting things,) he consistently has my partner and I rolling over his quips and moments. He is so earnest, AND UNDERRATED IN THE FACT HE’S AN ALL ROUNDER. He planned and executed his Demo-dog baby trap all on his own, and the scene where he meets with Steve and they begin the plot to lure the Demo-dog is golden. He has too many gold scenes, and he is a tired boy who continues to try despite. Good ass character.

3.) Eleven. Her character story and arcs have been WILD, but this girl is three things minimum: a survivor, independent, and determined. It’s been amazing watching this girl pick up on survival skills very quickly and how she decides to come back to defend whom she loves instead of festering in her justifiable anger in the end. Also, her and Hopper’s dynamic is PEAK from conflict to resolution. She’s not my absolute fave because let’s face it; she’s still a little awkward socially. She’s funny unintentionally tho.

4.) Lukas. He consistently has good sense, and I find his character charming and funny most times he’s on screen. I also find his slingshot cool af, and I think he handles the BS goes through pretty well. I also find most of his interactions with the other characters endearing and sincere. I LOVE his dynamic and nicknames with Maxine.

5.) Maxine. Even though I adore her, there are other cast members I’ve attached to more. Her character makes complete sense to me, and I love how she bites back despite how rough it’s been. She’s pretty chill, and I want to see more of her. She has potential to be my favorite.

6.) Nancy. She’s been a main instigator for the plot, somehow a flawed perfect in a good way, AND she’s the gunman in the party. Also, she danced with Dustin. I’d study with her. She’s only not higher bc the party scene with Steve kinda sucked, and she pressured both Jonathan and Barbara to go to parties with downer results (Jonathon having to drive her home, Barbara literally d-wording, Steve getting berated, etc.)

7.) Kali would be higher on this list if she had been around a little longer, but she’s up there. I loved her episode with Eleven, and I think her character with her found family is classic and fitting.

8.) moral scientist CEO that takes over after Brenner kicks the bucket (forgot his name.) He’s naturally charismatic, despite being the lead of a shady business. His banter with the main cast is always refreshing, and I appreciate how he treated Will and Bob. Also, he is a very patient man with very stressed characters. All around beige flag dude.

9.) Florence at the sheriff’s office never misses. Always knows what’s up without knowing and she supports Hopper. W

10.) Karen. She means well for her kids, albeit she NEVER knows what going on bro. She does okay despite having basically an emotionally absent partner.

Least Faves:

1.) Ted. It infuriates me how inattentive this dude is to his own kids. I was SO glad Dustin called him out to his face. Like at least be funny??? HE IS SO AWKWARD.

2.) Joyce, which pains me, because I LOVE Winona Ryder, and she is NAILING this role. But I cannot STAND how neglectful Joyce is of Jonathan compared to Will. I cannot have had a worse introduction to a character when you yell at your other son for HELPING WITH THE BILLS, and then getting onto him for not watching over his brother. Don’t play with me about oldest sibling shit. Also, her helicopter parenting of Will is justified after everything that happens season 1, but it’s just stifling. I also do not like how she demands the people around her to fix her problems and bend to her will when she’s powerless otherwise. AGAIN, I do not blame her for being a very caring mother, but I still remember that scene with Hopper where she uses his dead daughter against him. I know it’s even crazier to have her higher on this list instead of Billy or the other abusive fucks in this show, but 1.) most of the latter will not even be acknowledged by me because I hate them and invalidate their experience 2.) billy just got introduced and I’m praying there is a character arc somewhere because he has POTENTIAL, even if it’s as a villain and finally 3.) she’s BEEN here. She’s been hysterical for 79% of her character arcs; the most chill she’s been was when she was getting laid (THANK GOD) or it was a holiday. I just wish she could like, have faith? Or maybe give credit where it is due to the people helping her.

3.) Billy. Fuck him for directing his anger towards Maxine, but I understand dude has home issues. Also, I have yet to see if his violence towards Lukas is a hate crime or if it’s another reason. That’s not something I can easily write off even if he ends up being more likable, if it was the former. I’m attempting to keep my mind open about him.

4.) The side kick officers at the sheriff’s office bruh. Especially the one with glasses. They are the arrogant, incompetent cops we all imagine. The other guy isn’t that bad, but they both just don’t help Hopper that much.

5.) Mike. He is the lowest on this list solely because of how much he looked after Will, whom I adore. Also, I think he’s pretty brilliant despite his clearly high levels of anxiety. That said, I did not appreciate at all his angst regarding missing Eleven, especially with how rude he was to Maxine, who already has a shitty home life. Like, seriously? Have empathy dude. BTW him yelling and hitting at Hopper after they all reunite with Eleven when they’re literally on the defense from Demo-dogs??? Be so fr dude. Also, that Ghostbuster customer scene did not sit well with me at all. It was racist, and I’m glad Lukas called him out on that. I’m praying moments like that don’t happen again after season 2. I don’t think any happened season 2 thankfully.

I couldn’t fit it in the list as it’s currently 7:37AM as I’m writing this after binge watching season 2 with bae all night and I’m exhausted, but Jonathon and Steve for somewhere between 4-7 for my favorite characters. I like how they’ve developed, and I have had a soft spot for Jonathon since the beginning due to Joyce shouldering so much weight into him. I kinda like them outside of their dynamics with Nancy though; I almost wish they’d just all hang out platonically.

I can’t really place them because the other character spots feel correct and I don’t wanna fw them. Anyways goodnight, good ass show, and I can’t wait for more

[vxlkyrieee]

simple man

Smallville!Clark Kent x female!reader

Word Count: 1,465

Warnings: it’s mostly fluff, but there’s a tiny bit of anxiety

Request: “Hiii could I request for a Smallville Clark Kent x fem reader fic where he invites her to his house and introduces her to his parents if its okay? I really loved your previous clark kent fic!! 🥺”

Both Clark and reader have just graduated high school in this one, they are at least 18. I was listening to Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd while writing this, and thought it actually went really well with the fic, so I drew a bit of inspiration from that too :)

A shiver ran up the length of your spine, and goosebumps rose to the surface of your skin. You would blame the weather, only the day was so mild that there hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky.

“Clark, can I borrow your jacket?”

“Sure,” he chirps, taking it from under his arm to drape it over your shoulders. “But you know you’re only cold because you’re nervous right? You have no reason to be.”

“I want your parents to like me, Clark.”

You look down at your shoes as you walk, avoiding the look on your boyfriend’s gaze, which was no doubt pitying. You still haven’t decided whether you loved or hated those goddamn puppy eyes.

“They already do, (y/n). They know you.”

But this was different for you. 

This time, you were Clark’s girlfriend, not just a friend anymore. A set date for dinner for just the four of you seemed much too formal to not be a big deal. Not that you were trying to be dramatic, but you were pretty sure that being flayed alive right this very second wouldn’t be near as scary as potentially messing up in front of the Kents. And it didn’t help with Clark teasing that this dinner would mean you’d officially be ‘part of the family.’

“God, my heart is pounding.”

“I know, it’s kind of obnoxiously loud if you ask me. Keep it down in there.” Clark jokes, attempting to take some tension off of you. It helped a little, but you still land a playful punch to his bicep while you laugh. He’s laughing too now, pulling you closer to press a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re overthinking it (y/n), trust me.”

***

By the time you were on the Kents’ doorstep, you had your nicest outfit on, and your sweaty hand clutched in Clark’s. You were so nervous, entering their cosy home was a complete blur, and you didn’t even remember walking from the front door to sit at the dinner table. It seemed Clark had already removed his jacket from your shoulders, as you catch a glimpse of it hanging on a coat hook behind you.

“Thank you so much for having me, Mr and Mrs Kent,” you blurt as you watch Clark’s parents effervescently flit back and forth in the kitchen. They were both so orthodox and domestic in the moment, it was almost laughable that their only son happened to be an actual alien. 

Clark rushes in to help them with the food, all of which smelled amazing. You giggle when his mother brushes him off, insisting she was fine, although you did feel a little awkward being the only one just sitting there at the table.

“It’s our pleasure!”,  Mrs Kent exclaimed. “We were excited when Clark told us you two were finally official. And please, you’ve known us for so long now, just Martha and Jonathan will do, Sweetheart.”

Mrs K- Martha rounded the table to kiss you atop the head, then chastised her husband for not greeting you sooner. He did so with a crooked smile, enveloping you in a hug from behind your chair.

You know you shouldn’t feel so meek and skittish. Admittedly, you were very close with the Kents. Yet, it had been a while since you last saw Clark’s parents, being busy with graduating and spending a large portion of your time with Clark alone. Even so, conversation seemed to flow effortlessly, and it felt just like you were back in 8th grade, staying for dinner after you and Clark finished studying.

All the nostalgia calmed your nerves, and so did Martha’s cooking.

You swore you couldn’t eat another bite, that is until Jonathan mentioned dessert. When you and Clark perked up, Martha laughed. 

“I’ll clear up the table and get desert ready then,” Martha declares, moving her chair to stand up.

You stand up with her, albeit a little faster, the chair uncomfortably screeching along the floor. Great (y/n), just go ahead and scratch their floors while you’re at it. “Sorry, I just- I’ll clean up the dishes.”

“You’ll do no such thing! You just sit down and relax, (y/n),” she fusses, trying to chide you back into your seat. 

But you insist on being helpful today. For all your high-school life, Clark’s parents were always there to help. They’d opened their home to you as if it were your own countless times, and they were nothing but warm and nurturing. You felt a bit spoilt by them if your were honest. Although you know they’d never ask, or even expect it, you felt you owed the Kents something. Washing a few dishes would be nothing compared to what they’d offered you.

“Please, I just feel a little useless. I mean, you cooked a nice dinner, Jonathan helped and so did Clark. It’s the least I can do to help clean up.”

“Well, alright Sweetheart. I’ll wash and you dry?” Martha offers, finally giving in with an amused smile. That was enough to galvanise you to skip to the sink and grab a tea towel. 

Clark watches you and his mother move in tandem, smiling from his seat at the table when you say something to make Martha laugh. You laugh too, before accidentally knocking a glass off the kitchen bench with the tea towel in your hand. You gasp and clench your eyes shut, anticipating the humiliating shatter that was bound to echo across the entire house. 

But it never comes.

Instead, you flinch at a rush of air in front of you, and your eyes open to find Clark kneeling in front of you, holding the glass you dropped, completely in tact. ”I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” you sigh and release some anxiety through a huffed laugh. Clark chuckles, setting the glass back onto the countertop and kisses your forehead. 

He looks to his Ma and Pa, who are both in a bit of a panicked daze. They don’t don’t know if they should scold Clark, or try to come up with a rational explanation for his super speed. Both his parents’ expressions mirrored each other’s, looking as if they’d just come face to face with their greatest fears. 

You hurriedly try to think of something to say to relieve their stress.

“Oh! it’s okay, I um, I already know.”

Clark gifts you with an adoring smile, one that dazzles you so much, you almost forget about the whole incident that happened mere seconds ago. He slips his hand in yours and looks back up to his parents.

“I trust her.”

Martha breathes the heaviest sigh of relief you’ve ever heard, the panic visibly dissipating from her body, and Jonathan just smirks. When the two of you take your seats again, he nudges Clark’s leg under the table and raises his eyebrows, giving him a proud grin.

It was obvious his parents were proud of Clark. 

All his life, all they wanted for him was to be happy. To live a simple, honest life that he could be gratified to look back on; a nice girl he could settle down with who accepted him for all he was, a stable job that he loved, maybe even a couple of grandkids to bring when he visited the farm every now and again.

With one glance at you, they knew Clark was well on his way to building a happy, humble life, with you as a fixed focal point in the picture. They knew you were intrinsic to each other, utterly and irrevocably part of one another.

Seeing his parents so proud, so satisfied that the two of you had found contentment in one another, was endearing. 

It made the butterflies in your stomach dance. It was that same feeling you had in many little moments before; watching Clark play football, after-school study sessions, the first time he flew with you holding on to him. And God, did your stomach do somersaults when he launched the both of you miles above the ground. You had been terrified of the possibility of falling at any given moment, despite knowing that Clark would never ever let that happen. 

Yet, it was never the fear that had your heart beating so fast. It was the impossibly close proximity between the two of you, the complete absence of distance.  

For years you had tried to push down that fleeting flutter, for fear of it being unrequited. 

This time, as the feeling arose, you allowed it spread and simmer, letting it show through a flushed smile in Clark’s direction.

“Well, aren’t the two of you just smitten?” Jonathan teases. And although you’d usually feel embarrassed, you felt completely at home, as if all your nerves had suddenly been scared off.

Your smile grew bigger, and so did Clark’s, because if there was one thing he wanted to guarantee for the rest of his life, whether it be simple or not, it would be that you would look at him like that forever.

[madame-fear]

♡ Random Headcanons for All The Characters I Write ♡

A/N: *slams table with both hands* I NEED TO CATCH UP WITH MY REQUESTS INSTEAD OF WRITING ALL TYPES OF NONSENSE, GODDAMN IT. Also with my...*clears throat* pending essays. Anyways, enjoy this, babes. ^^ Also, GIFS are not mine, and i don't take requests for Game of Thrones.

Characters included?: Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow (Gotham & Dark Knight), Josh Templeton (Super Dark Times), Charlie Tahan, Brandon "Bran" Stark (Game of Thrones)

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🦇 Gotham! Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow:

• Spoiling you with small treats he knows you'd like: Pumpkin pins, your favourite chocolates and candies, crow earrings, flowers, etc.

• If you're shorter than him, he'd find it absolutely adorable. He often hugs you because he loves pressing you tight against his chest and giving you small head kisses as he caresses your hair.

• Showing you off with the Legion/his gang

• Comforting each other when any of you has bad nightmares/night terrors. 🥺

• HUGS FROM BEHIND!!!!

• Doing the makeup around his eyes when he has to do his duties as Scarecrow.

• Him telling you every little good advance he has with his fear toxin <3

• Fear gassing the hell out of anyone who hurts you, or even, has the audacity to flirt with you.

• The sweetest boyfriend ever! Always hugging, cuddling, smooching or kissing you all the time <3 He's so proud of having someone as amazing as you by his side :)

💉 DK! Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow:

• Unlike Gotham! Jonathan, he's not that clingy; but he definitely finds ways to let you know he loves you to no end, and like he's never loved someone.

• He won't admit it, but he absolutely loves it when you wake him up with breakfast on bed, or bring a cup of coffee to his lab while he's working.

• He often returns the favour for you, such as, waking earlier than you and cooking breakfast for the two of you and waking you up with a sweet kiss on your forehead <3

• Jonathan doesn't really like involving you with his Scarecrow or fear toxin matters, but, much like his Gotham! version, he'd also proudly tell you all the progress he made with his fear studies.

• Reads to you your favourite book when you wake up from a bad nightmare. Also, cooes you gently so as he holds you near his body so you know he's there to protect you.

• He LIVES for seeing you wearing his things: his glasses, clothing, hoodies...anything! Even his Scarecrow mask.

• Loving cheek, forehead, and lip kisses all the time, whenever you want and can.

• Calls you his "Little Crow" <3

🗡 Josh Templeton:

• Biking around together as some sort of having a date together.

• Him teaching you how to use his brother's katana, only as an excuse to be closer to you, and touch your soft hands.

• This boy literally cheers you up whenever you get to properly slit something with the katana! He'd be so proud of you 🥺💖

• Going to the grocery store together and buying all your favourite candies and chocolates!!!!

• Also, having movie marathons at his house and him letting you pick whichever movie you like the most 🥰 (a/n: this was inspired by a request im going to publish soon!!)

• Him having literal heart eyes for you when you defend him from bullies.

• His home is practically your home now, since you spend most of your time on his bedroom rather than your own.

• At the beginning of your relationship, he was rather awkward with physical contact and kisses. Baby steps with him please.

• Eventually he'll get some confidence, and with the passing of time, he'll be constantly filling your face and hands with tons of kisses & smooching!

• Breath-taking hugs too. 🥲

• Oh, and he loves being the big spoon when you have a sleepover at his home. <3

🎬 Charlie Tahan:

• Taking you to literally every single premier he goes to. And tightly holding your hand if you get nervous.

• His sister and you teasingly calling him "idiot" or "dumbass". But playfully, of course! Just to annoy the hell out of him <3

• He's rather private about his personal life, but he'd have a few posts & stories on his Instagram showing you off 🥰

• Him always inviting you over to have a sleepover at his home 💞 And, watching your favourite movies & shows always!!!

• ^ That's literally the way you have dates. And dates at McDonald's since he loves it. :)

• Sending memes to each other, ofc.

• Messing with his long fluffy hair all the time!!! Leaving it even more messier than it usually is, but he doesn't mind because he likes it when you do it.

• Always holding your hand and giving you small pecks on your cheek and/or lips 🤭💖

• Loverboy 100%

⚔ Brandon "Bran" Stark:

(i've been wanting to use this gif for SO long he just looks so cuteeeee)

• Teasingly – but with love – calling him "Wolf Boy" in reference to House Stark's sigil: wolves.

• Unadmittedly, he'll absolutely love it when you refer to him as your "knight in shining armour".

• Him often warging into Summer so he can catch your attention when you're not in the same room, or you're simply busy. You roll your eyes at him, but you secretely think it's cute.

• Also wargs into ravens only to sneak into your room and watch you sleep. Sounds creepy, but he does it because he likes keeping you safe, in a way.

• He also tries so hard to impress you with his archery skills 🤧 He feels so proud of himself when you cheer him after properly hitting the target.

• His older brothers annoying the hell out of Bran by teasing him with you when they notice he gets distracted with your presence + gets all blushy!!!

• When he notices you're cold and/or sleepy, he'll have you pulled on top of his lap, and covered with his fur cloaks. No 'buts' allowed, because he's doing it anyways.

• Expect to catch him staring at you absolutely lovestruck at times <3 He'd be over the moon at the thought of you being his 🥺💞

• Catching him staring at your lips a bit too often while you're talking with him. And it always ends in a big makeout session. ���

• HIM ALWAYS SHOWERING YOU WITH LOVE AND KISSES <333 But mostly in private though, he's a bit too shy to show affection in public.

• Always finding a way to lurk you into bed with him, only so he can have you cuddled by his side 🥰