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belokhvostikova · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Your secret fling with Eddie Munson hadn't gone entirely under wraps, particularly to the know-it-all, Dustin Henderson. With the help of Robin and Steve, the three conspire to reveal the truth, resulting in two of the most awkward people going on a date together...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, slight crying, alcohol consumption, awkwardness, insecurities, closeted sexuality, implied coming out, secret relationship, and some explicit sexual content: fondling, mention of porn, mention of oral, and unprotected vaginal sex (fairly minor, not the focal point).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This piece has literally been sitting in my Google Docs since June 26th, because when rewatching Friends, I though it would be a cute idea for a fic, so you'll see a lot of lines and parallels from the episode (season 5, episode 14). It's devastatingly unfortunate Matthew Perry passed when I was finishing this up. So, in memory of him and a toast to friendship, here is this fic. Be safe, appreciate life, and enjoy <3 I love you all.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“Did you guys see that?!” A pointed finger of accusation was targeted against Eddie Munson, completely oblivious to his knowledge.

Steve Harrington had grimaced at the mush that was once a solid cheeseburger residing inside the slobbery mouth of Dustin Henderson, as the kid spoke with such urgency, clearly unperturbed by his lack of food etiquette and social decorum. But such skills could not be expected much from Dustin Henderson. That is unless, of course, an actual adult of authority had been in the presence, to which a gummy smile was expected to assuage whatever insulting comment about the need for manners that “The Hair” would proffer in disgust.

It was the second Saturday in a row that Steve’s been bombarded by the abuse of the children to let his residence be used for a pool party. He doesn’t understand how exactly he lost the backbone to say no to four teenagers, but the phenomenon had manifested into reality, and at the very least, a compromise was made for the young adults—of whatever weird mesh of a friend group this was between older teens, younger teens, crossover shebang—to tag along for a hot afternoon of relaxation.

“Yeah, Eddie’s hair totally looks like a wet mop.” Max Mayfield snickered between her sips of a twisty-straw-in-lemonade action. In truth, seeing lushes locks of black stick to his face and neck was quite amusing, especially when made worse as the metalhead re-calibrated like a dog, shaking his hair as a means of getting rid of the chlorine water that weighed down his head. One that could always get a good chuckle out of anyone.

“No! Not that! That!” The ghost trail that was of Eddie Munson walking inside the Harrington villa, as pointed to by Dustin as a means of evidence, did little to provide any context of support to whatever it was he was avowing about this time. In many instances, those close to him knew to just let his diatribes continue without interference. The kid’s standards were impossibly high; people’s mistakes of simple wrongdoings were always criticized by his superiority. ‘“Oh, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom real quick.’” Dustin mimicked, mocking the voice of his Dungeon Master with dramatic gestures of flailing arms. A testament surely to get his character killed in next week’s campaign, should he have been caught by the man.

“Yeah, Dustin, that’s kinda, like, a natural occurrence in life.” Mike Wheeler deadpanned with a patronizing voice to annoy, as it’d been known to exasperate his friend. It’d even gained a couple laughs from the lounging bodies strewn about in the breadth of the gardened backyard.

Lucas Sinclair had jumped at the opportunity to prod further, barking a deafening cackle. “Yeah, remember that bomb you dropped after the school’s attempt to serve enchiladas?” He slapped his knee with joy. “You had the janitor running from the stalls!”

That one really got a good laugh out of everyone. But before Max could even venture at an attempt to cater for further details, Dustin struck on offense to defend his honor from the sharings of his intimate privacy, definitively emphasized with an agitated tone of vexation. “No, no! You pinky swore that you’d never speak of it! Do I need to tell everyone what Erica found under your bed?!” Old reliable; blackmail, the bargain of a lifetime.

“The hell is under your bed, man?” Steve pondered, flipping a seared patty with a slab of American cheese ready to go. If it was anything like what was under his bed, he’d surely want no one to know.

“Nothing!”

“What I thought.” Dustin muttered with a glare, as Lucas shrunk in his chair to evade any potential threats of further questions that lay on the tips of his friends’ nosy tongues. “But again, that is not what I am talking about.”

Always the civil one out of the Wheeler clan, Nancy reassuringly stepped up to support her brother’s friend in need, settling everyone down. “We’re sorry, Dustin, go ahead.” It was to be expected she’d gain a heartfelt thank you from Dustin Henderson, himself, once the debacle simmered and the turbulence had passed. Nancy Wheeler always did have a special place in the kid’s big heart, particularly after the caring gesture of the 1984 Hawkins Middle’s Snow Ball Dance.

“How can you all be so blind?!” Dustin seethed. “You’re telling me none of you find it even a little suspicious that Eddie just so happened to go to the 'bathroom' right after Y/N’s excuse of wanting to 'change,' like, hello?!” He huffed. “They’re totally screwing!”

Dustin Henderson felt devastatingly vanquished when a unanimous vote of disbelieving what’s hurtled his way with no mercy. He felt useless- undermined. Like the bag of Fritos left behind when children would rather fight over Doritos or Sour Cream n’ Onion Lays, rather than appreciate the artistry of a simple corn chip, left alone and forgotten until a last resort when moms took too long to make dinner; never to be cherished in the dark corner of the bulk size box of Frito-Lays. Of course, they wouldn’t believe him. They didn’t witness what he had to tragically witness. He heard it so vividly. So hauntingly vivid. Sometimes, it kept the poor boy up at night. Last week- last Friday- Hellfire’s Friday, such an exhilarating night now befouled by the auditory version of what he learned in the ninth grade compulsory course of sexual education.

How naive of him to believe your actions stemmed from the kindness of your heart; offering your chauffeuring abilities to pick up the freshman after their campaigns, sauntering inside with a sickeningly sweet smile to pair with your tender greetings, and always wanting to lend a helping hand to the Dungeon Master, because “it just seems like so much to clean.” Puh-lease! The signs had been flashing in his face. The ulterior motives screaming in his ear. What sane person deliberately chooses to waste their time picking up three boys revved up with excitement and sweat after the thrills of Dungeons and Dragon? Jesus, shit, it was Friday night, don’t you have any plans?! Yeah, plans to stick your tongue down their Dungeon Master’s throat. Tainting the sanctity of Hellfire with your debauchery.

Dustin Henderson had forgotten his dice. Sometimes, he wishes he would have just let the damn things go.

“God, baby, a quickie- let’s just do it right here real quick.” Eddie’s begging voice vibrated behind the closed door of the drama department, seeping through the open cracks beneath the door, all for Dustin’s ears to hear.

And he tried to give him the benefit of the doubt- the kid really did. Pet names were far from unusual by use of Eddie Munson. The one instance the Byers dropped back into Hawkins during Spring Break, it was no doubt Will the Wise had to get a taste of the new man running the show, and when Eddie had given Byers the innocent compliment of being such a sweetheart, the kid blushed into oblivion, stuttering a thank you in return. Hell, not to mention the infamous “big boy” that followed Steve Harrington around wherever the man took on motherly duties. So, Dustin brushed it off. But the moment had quickly transpired into something cringe worthy to the fourteen-year-old who didn’t know better. It should have been his cue to run, but the fiery design of his dice cost him six bucks of his chores earning, and they weren’t about to be discarded, as if the sweat of his forehead meant nothing from an afternoon of bending over the mop bucket to clean the kitchen floors.

There are moments at night when he speculates if this is the doings of the heavenly man above that his beloved, Suzie Bingham, always mentioned; punishing Dustin in consequence of eavesdropping on a private matter that surely was not intended to be heard. But can you really call it eavesdropping when you were merely trying to retrieve your dice? No! You can’t!

“They’re already waiting for me in the car.” You whined against his lips. The figurine that was poking your hip was the last thing accounted for in your mind, as Eddie had showcased you onto the wooden table of the prop room. Lips smeared against yours, his hand had squeezed a chunk of your meaty thigh, bringing you forth to keep you in close company. “We can’t.” Can’t what, huh? Find the dignity to do it outside of school grounds?! Freaks!

“Little shits.” Dustin had appallingly gasped at the insult, feeling the stabbing wound of betrayal hit him in the chest as you laughed along, hand clutched over his heart to appease the pain of such affliction. The dramatics. “Come to my place after.” Eddie delicately kissed loving pecks to your lips. “That way,” his finger trailed up your thigh, “we can have our alone time, and I can finally get a taste of that pretty pu-”

Dustin Henderson knew to run away at that point. Safe to say, the kid never got his dice back.

“Are you insane?!” Motherly hand on the hip, Dustin didn’t appreciate Steve’s disciplinary tone of voice, sounding too much like his mother, Ms. Claudia Henderson, for his liking, as everyone agreed with Harrington’s proclaimed delusion against the boy. “Munson doesn’t have the skills to screw, let alone someone as hot as her.” He chuckled in disbelief.

Oh, boy, was he wrong.

“Mm, j-just like that, uh!” Your pelvis pummeled into the sink, tainting the precisely picked pristine porcelain by Mrs. Harrington, herself, as Eddie rutted his hips into the dampness that was your bikini bottoms to chase a release that was on the brink of snapping.

It was your fault he claimed; prancing in a top and bottom that left little to the imagination. Accusations of your outfit being chosen to taunt him were thrown your way, and your faux innocence only cemented it further. “Fuck- fucking take it—ugh, s-shit—take this fucking cock!” How could this ever be seen as a punishment when your boyfriend was lighting your body on fire with the ecstasy of abusing your g-spot?

Perhaps having sex in the bathroom of your mutual friend was far from the ethical rules of friendship, but the act of secrecy had bred a burning excitement that neither of you could contain. And, given the fact that four weeks ago, Steve had poked fun at Eddie’s singleness—not that Steve had any room to joke, though, at least, “The King” was relishing in the funness of meaningless hookups, something Eddie surely didn’t partake in, he lovingly had you—so seeking revenge in fucking his hot girlfriend in his friend’s bathroom had stirred something menacing in Eddie’s head to truly not give a single care in what he was doing was wrong.

“Yes! Yes! I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Fingers tightening on the edge of the sink, your heart soared watching the reflection of Eddie’s mouth panting with want, as he fucked your pussy, ready to release his load deep inside. His hands had snaked to grab handfuls of your bouncing tits, groaning as he felt your nipples poke through the coldness of your wet bikini top.

His hips harshly snapped against your rippling ass. “Cum all over my cock- shit! C’mon, pretty girl, fucking soak me- take all o’ me!” It barely felt as though he was pulling out, merely drilling in deeper and deeper. “I’m gonna cum- fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-”

“They are totally screwing!” The curls of Dustin Henderson’s head were on the verge of being ripped out in frustration; all that work he so earnestly dedicated night and day to maintain the silky bounce was about to be all for nothing. “They are! I heard them!”

Wrong choice of words. “You were listening to them screw?!” Robin gagged, triggering an onslaught of ew’s and perv’s- well, really, Max Mayfield had been the only one calling her friend a perv, doing it in the relaxation of her lounging chair, teasing behind her newly gifted heart-shaped sunglasses.

“No! No!” Dustin shouted in clarification. “I wasn’t listening! I heard them talking about it!” He agonized. “They’ve been doing it for at least a week! Behind our backs!”

“Oh!” Max ventured. “Let’s bet, I say they’ve been engaged for four months, and are pregnant!” She heckled, now clearly just taking the piss out of him.

“Has the water gone from your ears to your brain?” Robin laughed in his face. Surely the kid was mistaken, right? Aside from her personal himbo—Steve hated the nickname—you and Nancy Wheeler had become her newfound best friends. You know, a united front against the boys, girl talk, the whole shebang about girl code? Secrets weren’t a thing between your three! Granted, Robin, herself, was harboring a pretty large secret that only her himbo knew of, but that was different! Boys were nothing, she would gladly hear about all her friends’ boy problems, indulging in the drama of long distance or whatever the hell there was to complain about, but girls?! Yeah, that was, uh, that was just something- a topic still unbreached… at least, until she was ready.

“Fine!” The boy heaved, bailing out on defending his stance any further. “You guys don’t wanna believe, that’s just fine.” He snided. “But when they come back, and Y/N hasn’t changed out of her bathing suit, you won’t be laughing now!” Dustin Henderson ended his tirade with an embittered bite to his burger, dramatically dropping into his pool chair.

They’d all learn soon, and bow down to him.

So now, everyone waited. Waited for the fateful moment that would either prove Dustin Henderson right or wrong. And unfortunately- for you and Eddie, at least, your steamy escapade on the sink of the Harrington bathroom had left you too dazed and forgetful in the post-orgasmic bliss that was heavy breaths and loving touches of aftercare to keep up with the said excuse of “changing out of wet clothes” that got you alone with Eddie Munson in the first place. So when you marched out, glowing and relaxed—exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds after Eddie’s “bathroom break” (so thoughtfully executed)—in the same damp bikini that had your secret boyfriend riled up to begin with, everyone gasped.

“What?” You looked around confused.

Unbeknownst to you, Dustin Henderson took a cheesy bite of his burger, loudly sipping a carbonated gulp of his cold Coke, ready to snap his fingers for another round of meals for his peasant friends to fetch.

He was right.

Robin Buckley confirmed it next.

That Monday to come, Robin was staggering over the words of Dustin Henderson, and trying to piece the evidence presented to understand what was transpiring in your double life. The events after your return from “changing” left you confused by the jarring stares of six pairs of eyes testing you. Nancy, with the softest approach, had questioned you on the lack of new clothes on your body, to which your knight in shining armor—or accomplice—stepped up to save you from the army of prodding friends. “A knot in my hair, yeah, I distracted her to help me get a knot out of my hair.” Sure, Eddie, sure.

During the uproarious minutes of lunchtime, you’d been ready to get an afternoon break from school to fork through Hawkins High’s poor excuse as to what constitutes consumable food, when the sudden scrutiny from Robin Buckley began. And, my god, was she persistent.

In the comical marching band she suited, Robin Buckley had rushed her attempt to the first approach. “Hey, Robs. You think I can borrow your notes for Civics, I-”

“So, I hear Jonathan’s coming back from California next week!” Something about rashly eating the served cut peaches seemed to play up to the normal act Robin was going for, but truthfully, it just made you eye her strange behavior weirdly.

“Oh.” You accepted the out-of-nowhere information. Maybe you won’t do so good on Mr. Vortroski’s test on Supreme Court cases as you originally thought. “That’s great for Nance-”

“Isn’t it?!” The enthusiasm she was exerting was truly taking it over the top. But Robin Buckley had a heart for caring, and perhaps the excitement for her friend was really bubbling up today. “Nancy said they’ve been planning, like, a lot of dates, you know, to catch up on lost time?” You casually nodded along. “Single dates, double dates… and then I was thinking, hey!” She perked. “Y/N’s young and good looking! She’s probably seeing someone! So are you, I don’t know, seeing someone? Anyone? Tall, dark hair? Anyone?”

“Uh…” Yeah, maybe the hastiness of Robin’s impetuous nature wasn’t the best route to go with. “No, um, no I’m not seeing anyone.” You gave a tight-lipped smile. “Nance and Jonathan are gonna have to find someone else to double date with- oh, maybe Steve! What’s that girl's name he’s been seeing, Brenda? Beatrice? Actually, you know what, it’ll probably be really awkward to ask your ex-boyfriend on a double date with your current bo-”

“You’re seriously not seeing anyone?!” Robin’s brows furrowed with frustration. You were lying to her face- you were lying straight to your best friend’s face! “Nobody? No one?” You begrudgingly shook your head. “No thing?”

“Robin,” you chuckled, “is there something you want to tell me?” There were lots of things Robin Buckley wanted to tell you. Like, for starters, the newfound revelation that she likes how she looks with mascara, after you left yours on the dresser of her bedroom during your sleepover two weeks ago. She had no plans of returning it back to you, either. Or, possibly the fact that Bridget—the actual name of Steve’s newest lover—stole his Farrah Fawcett hairspray- or the fact that Steve uses Farrah Fawcett hairspray. Maybe the other thing, as in the strange occurrence that happens to her heartbeat whenever Vickie from chemistry happens to be around. Or, the other other thing, like the fact that she spent an obscene amount of minutes staring at cover of “Scissoring with Seduction” starring Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond, after organizing the adult films section at Family Video- actually, scratch that, she’d never tell a soul about that, not even Steve Harrington.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” She shot back with fervency.

“No…?” Your questioning answer had your friend igniting her dramatic flare, slumping in her seat with a defeated huff. Dustin Henderson would surely be owed a duly apology. At this point, you’d like to say this weirded you out, but you lived in Hawkins, Indiana. You’ve seen weirder.

Evidently not sufficed with your response, your friend sat up onto perched elbows. “Y/N, you know you can tell me anything, right?” A sincere approach. Undoubtedly better. “Like, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me stuff. I won’t judge or anything.” Robin solemnly smiled at you.

Your tender hand squeezed her arm. “I know.” You beamed. “I hope you know that the same goes for you, Robs. If you ever have anything you need to tell me, I’ll always be here to listen to you. Probably give you way better advice than Stevie.” You both chuckled at the expense of Steve Harrington. Robin Buckley understood the feeling of not being ready for the world to know, because knowing would change the dynamics of life, and having the world suddenly perceive you in a way they never have before was scary.

Having the world hate you for the tender love you caressed your partner with was terrifying.

You’d tell her when you were ready, just as she would with you.

With a nod to her head, she patted your hand. “You know, I asked Steve once on tips to upgrade my look, and he legit told me to do my eyebrows like Pamela Anderson.”

“The himbo, himself, is too unknowledgeable to know that Miss Anderson is the only one capable of pulling off the blonde bombshell look. Though, I would love to see him with pencil brows and blue eyeshadow.” You both laughed, before you reached over to pinch her chin. “Plus, your beautiful self doesn’t need any changing, Robs. Anyone would be lucky to wake up next to it.”

Yeah, she’d simply tell you when she was ready, just as you would with her.

By three o’clock, Robin Buckley had been worn down by the insufferable compulsion that was Mr. Heizer’s fifth period calculus class. With the last day of school being around the corner, Robin wondered what warranted Heizer’s balding head to be so miserable that he felt the need to subject his students with the abuse of derivatives. Trudging her feet against the pavement of the Hawkins High parking lot, Steve Harrington had came into view, where he brandished himself atop the hood of his car. Not the most irregular of sights, given the systemic routine of drop off and pick-up that had been structured for Monday through Friday, though today, Dustin Henderson had managed to find Steve’s BMW through the array of parked cars, and was found yapping his ear off.

So sorely critical-looking, Robin couldn’t help but tiredly chuckle. “What’s with the wrinkles, kid?” She approached.

Dustin huffed, letting his arms dramatically drop to his side in desperation. “Steve won’t go along with my plan!”

“What are you even doing here, Dustin, isn’t your mother, like, first in line at the car riders pick-up?” She laughed.

Steve exasperated. “He waved off his poor mother, like the lunatic he is, just to track me down and tell her I was giving him a ride!” He answered, propelling Dustin to gasp with a snide.

“So we can talk about the plan!” Dustin provoked the Italian—that he probably didn’t actually have—within him, as his loose fist shook in Steve’s vicinity.

“What plan?” Robin interjected.

“The plan to expose Y/N and Eddie!” Dustin stressed.

“Eddie and Y/N are not screwing.” Steve deadpanned. “What happened Saturday was just… some fluke coincidence, not proof to anything, okay? So let it go, Dustin. Just face it, you were wrong.” He chuckled a very much unappreciated chuckle in Dustin’s face.

“I am not wrong! I know what I heard! How many times do I have to be right on the money for you all to just trust me?!” Neither Steve or Robin appreciated the numerous stares the freshman was gathering from leaving classmates and faculty.

“Okay, just calm down, alright.” Robin shushed. “You're right-”

“Ha!”

“But I don’t think we should do anything.” Dustin heaved, scowling at Robin as if she just committed sacrilege.

“Are you crazy? Of course, we should totally do something!” Dustin retorted. “This is big news! Two of our best friends are dating! You know what this means?! I could have parents, Robin, and you know I don’t have a dad, do you really want to be the reason I never have a dad?” A pointed finger targeted her.

Her hand worked swiftly to smack his accusing finger away. “Eddie is not your dad, Christ, he’s not dating your mom.” She annoyingly sighed.

“Yeah, and also, I’ve known you for way longer. If anyone’s gonna be your dad, it’s gonna be me, not Munson.” Steve exhorted with ire.

Dustin mockingly laughed. “Please, you and mother have the same hips.”

Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were too engrossed in their conversation to bring any of their attention to Steve Harrington’s insulted gasp. “Look, Dustin, I already tried asking Y/N about it, and she’s just not ready to talk about it.” She explained. “Let’s just drop it until they’re ready to tell us.”

“Okay, but we can help them talk about it.” The kid returned with retaliation. “You know how great it was to see Nancy and Jonathan finally get together?”

“Which came at my expense, by the way.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t know why that brings you such joy.”

“Well, this is Y/N and Eddie, it’s even bigger!” Dustin smiled. “Look, all I’m saying is that a little encouragement never hurt anybody.” Call the boy annoying, he already knew that, but his intentions were coming from good faith. The notion of helping his friends find love- or more so express it, had him bubbling with excitement. “And the only way to get this love story rolling is if we get them to crack.”

Steve groaned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, we have to make them break first.” Dustin was beginning to get his crazy eyes, something about conspiring a plan had him menacingly smirking his enthusiastic grin. “You know, trick them into telling us.”

Robin sighed, drilling the palm of her hands into her eyes. “Okay, you know what? Do whatever you like, Dustin, but I will not be a part of this plan.”

“Of course, you will!” Dustin implored with desperate hands grabbing at her arms to shake with emphasis. “You’re the one who’s gonna have to flirt with Eddie.”

Robin and Steve blurted in disbelief. “What?!”

“Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it.” Dustin rationalized.

“Woah, woah, wait a second, what makes you think she wouldn’t go for me?” Steve plowed on, his ego taking an obvious hit by a child six years his age. “I’m a total catch, the ladies love me!” He argued. “And Robin, she can’t flirt with Eddie, she’s… uh, well, she- she just can’t!” He stepped up to try to help his friend, much to Robin’s appreciation.

Dustin sighed, placing a tender hand upon Steve’s shoulder. “Look, Steve, you gotta get over this crush you have on Robin-”

“I do not have a crush on Robin!” Steve flung Dustin’s arm away. “And back to this ‘Y/N not going for me’ thing, I can totally flirt with her to get her to crack!”

Dustin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he was the adult in this situation. “Steve, c’mon, she calls you himbo behind your back, she probably thinks you have no personality.”

“I have personality!”

“No, you have hair!”

In the midst of the commotion, Eddie Munson had sauntered his way out of the double doors, cigarette in hand to relinquish the stress brought upon him throughout the day. Despite the matter that his van had been haphazardly parked on the west end of the parking lot for reasons being that your pretty self always used the end doors for the less crowded purposes—sue him, he loved the view—there was always something about Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson arguing that always brought happy entertainment for the metalhead.

“Trouble in paradise?” His croaking voice startled the group, as they all looked at him stunned. “Jesus Christ, what’s with the faces?” Eddie laughed, as his cigarette scraped along the wetness of lips.

“N-Nothing.” Robin awkwardly had to offer, forcing Eddie to raise a brow at her.

And then he spoke. Dustin fucking Henderson spoke. “Actually! Uh, R-Robin what were you saying about Eddie just now?” She snapped a deadly glare back at him, to which he gladly challenged with a grating smile that had Steve quietly laughing in the back.

“You talkin’ about me behind my back, Buckley? C’mon, I thought we were friends.” Eddie lightly jabbed, as he paid more attention to his lighter, which was taking multiple rounds of clicks until it ignited.

“Nothing.” She assured. “I said nothing.”

“No, no, you were saying something about his outfit.” Dustin encouraged. God, how ethical was it to beat up a child? “About how he… looks nice.”

Robin sighed, as Eddie gave her a lighthearted smile. “Thanks, Rob, I’m really liking those patches.” He pointed to her sweater, finding nothing but the innocence of friendship in her supposed compliment.

“A-And something about his large muscles.” A curl of his hair was absentmindedly twirled as to appear uninvolved in the scheme of his mischief, and right as Eddie’s eyes left Dustin with a confused stare, the kid’s arm shoved Robin’s back to coach her further.

So, Robin Buckley, simply accepted. Though, tapping into her retired career of one year in drama club when she got the gracious role of playing Mrs. Soames in last year's production of Our Town proved to lack any skills training, when attempting to flirt with Eddie Munson had her stuttering like a child learning to speak. Then again, playing Mrs. Soames in Our Town didn’t exactly require her to flirt with her friend’s secret boyfriend who was a man!

“Y-Yeah, Eddie, uh, that m-material.” Robin bunglingly smiled, as a stiff hand touched the leather of his coat. “O-Oh, well, hello, Mr. B-Bicep.” She mentally prepared herself for the moment Steve Harrington would belittle her to death for her lack of flirting skills whenever this mess was over. “You’ve been, uh, working out?”

Attempting to give her the benefit of the doubt, Eddie chose to assuage the painful discomfiture with his casual sarcasm. “Ah, well, I try to, y’know, squeeze things.” Eddie recoiled at her over-the-top laugh that appeared too similar to that of Heidi Wilson’s, when she ran into him and Steve in the food court of Starcourt Mall last week, looking to allure his friend with whatever screech that was. “You okay?”

“Uh-”

“She’s just having guy problems.” Dustin interjected, much to Robin’s dismay. Never. Never in a million years would Robin Buckley ever have guy problems. “Go on, tell him.”

Yeah, Dustin Henderson wouldn’t see the age sixteen. “Well, uh, you know how you’re s-sometimes just looking for something, a-and don’t even realize that it’s, um, right there in front of you... s-smoking a cigarette?”

Eddie looked down at the lit cigarette in his mouth, and quickly stepped back in panic, all while Steve Harrington’s cheeks puffed with laughter, as his sealed lips worked overtime to not guffaw out loud. “U-Um, yeah, okay, I’m gonna go.” Eddie could only spare a quick glance to Robin, before throwing everyone a small wave goodbye.

Robin Buckley watched him walk away for two seconds, before slowly turning to Dustin Henderson, where he was met with her twitching eye. “You have five seconds to run.”

His mouth fell gape. “But wait, Steve’s my ride-”

“Five!”

That Monday afternoon, Dustin Henderson spent forty-five grueling minutes walking the three mile hike to his home, as punishment per Robin Buckley’s request. And yes, she did wave him goodbye, when Steve Harrington’s BMW swiftly passed him on the way over.

Steve Harrington confirmed it next.

And maybe was a little asshole about it.

Benny’s Burger had become the choice of dinner for the mundane Monday night he was currently enduring, because Eddie Munson refused to hit up the bar, despite the common courtesy that buying beers had become for the twenty-year-old men. At the very least, greasy burgers with a cigarette to follow would be the accommodation Eddie Munson could offer, since Steve Harrington had lost his weekly hookup, because his personal wingman decided to fall into a secret relationship- presumably. Steve was choosing to balance on the fence of whether or not to believe the words of a fourteen-year-old, mostly because if he did, Steve Harrington would become subjected to the sanctimonious behavior of a cocky teenager.

And who would want that?

“Lemme do a double cheeseburger with extra pickles, uh, no tomatoes, please. Ooh, with a side of cheese fries, a strawberry shake, and I’ll get that with a Coke, too. Thanks, Benny.” Steve eyed his friend. God, that man could eat. The bustling fan that chilled Benny’s sweaty neck had proffered a wonderful alternative to the sweltering humidity that tinted the large windows with fog. Aside from the burly trucker consuming the two cups of coffee to keep him awake for the night, Steve had all respective authority to slyly grill his buddy on whatever friends-with-benefits-slash-potential-boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic he shared with you.

Fuck it. “Uh, might as well do the same, Ben, what he said.” The laminated menu went unskimmed, closed off, and collected for the owner to take.

Assuring the boys their meals would follow out quickly, they met Benny with gracious thank you’s for the service, and Steve Harrington rashly followed the movements of the older gentleman, until his being was out of ear shot, promptly snapping his head back to his friend. “Why didn’t you wanna go to the bar tonight?!” If a sign as to why Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington were soulmates, for whatever reason, needed to be clearer than it already was, the incaution- not so subtle “subtle” approach was reason enough.

“Uh,” Eddie hummed, forcing Steve’s eyes to narrow in return, “I dunno, just didn’t wanna go for drinks tonight.” He shrugged, flicking at a sugar packet he had no intentions of using.

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

The incredulous tone was quite too bitchy for Eddie’s liking, who merely scoffed. “Can’t a guy care about his liver?”

“Ed, there’s a pack of cigarettes hangin’ in your pocket.” Steve deadpanned. “Think organ functionality is the least of your worries.” Unwelcoming to the implied suspicion of accusation behind Steve’s comment, Eddie simply chose to stay silent, finding more interest playing with the provided condiments as trinkets for his entertainment. Steve rolled his eyes. “Y’know, I saw Myra at the laundromat not too long ago.” He scratched his clean shaven chin, playing into his nonchalant bit, that only left Eddie to raise his eyebrows in confusion as to where this was going. “She looked nice; got her hair done, these pretty, little braids, y’know, with the gold cuffs and whatnot.”

Eddie’s head lolled, enjoying the simple task of his finger tracing the obscured lines of the faux granite table top, when the ketchup label had been read to its entirety. “So?”

“So,” Steve emphasized, “you coulda called her up, y’know, tell her to meet you tonight. How long has it been since you’ve seen her- or any girl for that matter?” He slyly asked.

“Not interested.” Blunt and suffice, surely enough to ward off anymore of Steve’s prodding questions.

But Steve merely scoffed. “What, in girls anymore?”

And in true Eddie Munson fashion, a shit-eating grin consumed his face, devious smile lines and all, as he leaned on perched forearms to invade Steve’s space. “Aw, why? You interested, big boy?”

Yeah, this conversation would be going nowhere.

As the sparing minutes filled to meaningless conversations, their full course dinners made the quick arrival, and Steve pondered at the various ways a confession could be pummeled out of Eddie Munson’s mouth, which was currently being stuffed to the brim with mushing bites of each food group—minus the vegetables, this was Benny’s Diner after all. There was the ex-fling route, but clearly Eddie wasn’t looking to explore that again; good news for you, at least. That is if anything Henderson claimed was actually true. Little shit-

But wait a minute, that was it! What would Dustin Henderson do?!

He could still hear his grating voice. "Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it." As if. Steve Harrington could get you- hell, Steve Harrington could get anyone. Graduating out of the social hierarchy of high school totally hasn’t affected his game… totally. But digressing, if Dustin Henderson could scheme up a plan with no substance, Steve Harrington could, too. If anything, this would make so much more sense, given that Robin doesn’t even like boys. Dustin Henderson didn’t know anything, but Steve, yeah Steve Harrington was way more cunning than some snappy child with no regard for people’s business. Yeah, Steve Harrington could totally do this…

Eddie’s chewing slowed, brows cinched, as he wondered why the hell Steve Harrington had been silently smiling to himself for the past minute. And people saw him as a freak? Fucking weirdo.

“Hey, uh,” Steve cleared his throat, presumably back to being normal, allowing Eddie to continue to shove his face with a strawberry milkshake covered cheese fry, unperturbed by Steve’s judgemental grimace, “I’m thinkin’ of askin’ out Y/N.”

Suddenly caught in his throat, Eddie began coughing up the fry he just downed, as Steve smiled with such amusement at the torment he just caused his friend. Maybe Henderson was right. “W-What? You wanna what?”

“Yeah, been thinkin’ about it, and y’know, I’m really feeling her.” Steve cocked a smirk that had Eddie’s face scrunching with agitation. “Very smart, funny, really fucking pretty, so…”

“I d-don’t, um- you really think that’s a g-good idea?” Eddie adjusted in his seat, composing the bubbling feeling that stirred terribly with the monstrosity he had just eaten.

Taking a large bite from his burger, Steve grinned happily. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Hunger and entertainment wonderfully satiated on this peaceful, late Monday night.

Eddie shrugged, sulkingly throwing a stray pickle in his mouth. “I dunno, you’re just friends n’ all.” He mumbled.

“Oh!” Steve’s eyes gleamed with laughter behind them. “You don’t think friends should date-”

“No, no, no, no!” God, the last thing Eddie was about to do was inadvertently claim your relationship was some end all be all cataclysm, but did it really have to come at the expense of encouraging his friend to date his secret girlfriend?! “I-I mean, like, some friends c-can date, like, um, good friends-”

“So, me and Y/N?” Steve quietly chuckled to himself, as he watched Eddie fret with frustration.

“No- I mean, I dunno!” He exasperated, as Steve relished in his greasy food with a smile on his face. Eddie’s heart began sinking into his stomach. He understood how demeaning it would be to conclude you as the type to jump into Steve’s arms once he’d make the “inevitable” move. God, for once in his life someone with care to proffer promised him fundamental security, and there was no denying it, he felt. Felt it in your caressing hands, your saccharine words, your devoted kisses, your gentle touches- you touched with such love… at least, that's what it felt like. Does Eddie Munson even know love? He swallowed thickly. “D-Do you even think she would go for you-”

“I have personality!” Steve proclaimed, finger pointed and all, forcing Eddie to shove back in surrenderance, hands in the air, and a confused look to pair.

“Okay, I’m not sayin’ you don’t, geez.” Eddie clarified, as Steve huffed, raking a harsh hand through his Farrah Fawcett hairsprayed perfection. “J-Just maybe don’t. Like, um, i-if it doesn’t work out, it could get really bad between you two, a-and it would be fucking horrible not to have her in your life at all, you can’t lose her, man.”

Voice so small and eyes so distant, there was a deep inkling that perhaps Eddie was speaking his fears aloud. Because even in the greatness that was having the privilege of calling you his girlfriend, there was a world full of Steve Harringtons that could provide you with more than what any Eddie Munson ever could. Late at night, when the world could finally offer you both the peace to just be, entangled in arms and legs, Eddie would just stare at you and… know. Know that there is a feeling that scares the living shit out of him that he can’t feel for anyone else. A different type of feeling from the camaraderie of his club, who triumph against the evil of the universe. A different type of feeling from the shoulders he’s cried on of his uncle, because Eddie truly cannot thank him enough. You, you were a different type of feeling. One that left him just wanting to look at you, smell you, touch you, think of you all day.

This wasn’t just infatuation, god, it felt like pure fucking lo- shit, what would he know. Eddie Munson didn’t know love.

A sudden wave of regret washed over Steve, as he realized the saddened roundness of his buddy’s eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not gonna happen.” His calm voiced reassured. “I mean, it’s Y/N, why would she ever allow that to happen? Y’know, so what, things don’t work out between… me and her,” he explicated, “doesn’t mean your- I mean, our friendship has to change.” Steve watched, as Eddie nodded along, shoulders slumping in relaxation. “We talk it out, we understand each other, and we move on as friends. Together. We’ll still love each other like that. And, hey, at least we’ll both get a hot hookup out of it.” Okay, maybe he was still being a little shit, but he was only channeling his inner Henderson. Plus, the snapping glare from Eddie was quite priceless.

“Are you really gonna make a move on Y/N?” His jaw ticked with clenched teeth.

“I dunno.” Steve smiled, before snapping his fingers with a brilliant revelation, “Y’know what, I saw Robin flirting with you earlier today, how ‘bout we go on a double date?” Yeah, now he was definitely just teasing. “Hell, make it a triple one once Byers and Wheeler head back into town.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Robin was not flirting with me, she was just being… weird.” He pondered it for a second. What the hell was that that happened this afternoon? There’s no way she actually- no, impossible. Could she? No, that didn’t feel right. Well, maybe-

“Hey, do you actually think I have personality?” Oh, Stevie.

On Tuesday evening, the Family Video store saw the little customers it was regularly accustomed to; Mr. Fredrickson, only to be accounted for, slowly roamed the documentary section, particularly interested in the historical segment for his afternoon leisure.

The nub of his cane poked an indent into the carpeted floors, as his supported weight allowed for close inspection of the bolded titles that plastered in an array of colors. Luckily, the lens of his glasses were thick enough to provide him the ability of sight to read what was on display for night, leaving you to mindlessly thumb through this month's issue of Cosmopolitan. “Hm.” Mr. Fredrickson gruffed. “What d’ya make of the Franco-Prussian War, darlin’?”

The Proven Personal Approach to Permanent Weight Loss. An Incredible Shrinking Woman Tells How She did it! Christ. You found more interest flipping back to the written Cosmo’s quiz determining what kind of husband your current rendezvous would make.

“Uh…” Your back was beginning to ache from finding all support on your perched elbow digging into the counter, letting your cheek fall to your palm. “You did the Napoleonic Wars last time, no? Why don’t you give the French a break?” You skimmed the printed words of the glossy pages.

His wrinkled pointer finger shakingly racked through the tapes, as he took your word of advice. Your eyes were hanging onto the last bit of energy they were enduring to stay awake, but the weight of eyelids inevitably began to win, and it surely didn’t help that the liveliness of your thriving life was partaking in conversations with an elderly man who found amusement in learning about wars.

But before a potential write up—Keith never found the actual courage to do so, loved to threaten it, though—for sleeping on the job could be scolded, the welcoming bell of the front door rang loudly enough to alert some life back into your body.

“Welcome to Family Vide-euuawghh.” A guttural yawn ripped out of you, slurring your standardized greeting into an embarrassing mush of sounds.

With watery eyes scrunched from tiredness, a rushed apology to your incoming customer had proved to fall unnecessary, as a familiar chuckle addressed you back. “Aw, such rigorous labor, working my baby to death, huh?” Eddie Munson, himself, teased, as he leaned to hover over the counter and close to your sluggish face.

“Don’t tease me.” Your mouth jutted in offense, as you rubbed your eyes to the clear sight of being welcomed by Eddie’s bourbon eyes and a smug curl to his lips.

His rough-tipped thumb caressed the hairs of your brow to ease. “How can I not when it gets you to make that cute pout at me, hm?”

You piqued with giddiness. “Because I’m your girlfriend.” A label you quickly learned to adore. “And you shouldn’t be mean to your girlfriend.”

Eddie smiled a breathy chuckle, as he peered at your lips. “Yeah, you are my girlfriend, huh?” He proudly verbalized with a husk to his tone. His mouth was itching to say more, pour out all he felt for the girl standing before him, but a counter the size of the world divided the union between two beating hearts of devotion. And manifesting his words of love paved the way for the potential loss of you. But not doing so also did the same. Because he’s learned good things don’t last for Eddie Munson. And what a unless world it would be to lose the profoundness of you.

God, he wanted to punch Steve Harrington for last night.

Eddie took a deep breath. His bangs landed against your forehead, and scrunched under your nod of confirmation. You are his girlfriend. “Where’re the other two stooges?” He whispered, his breath fanning across your face.

“In the back doing inventory.” You gladly answered the words Eddie wanted to hear. He bashfully leaned in, though before his mouth could meet yours, you pulled back with furrowed brows. “Wait, ‘other two stooges,’ am I the third?”

Eddie barked out a boyish laugh, as he watched your faux face of aversion and shock. His large hands made your face feel small as he cupped your cheeks and brought you forth. “God, you’re so pretty.”

His lips crashing upon yours had wiped your expression of any annoyance you tried to playfully brat out. His mouth moved against yours so languidly, it had you falling limp to his kiss, as he expressed all that he felt with the touch of his lips. Eddie pulled away slowly, leaving you to quietly hum in retaliation and chasing his lips.

“Sorry.” He chuckled, providing you with one more loving peck. “But, hey, y’know, speaking of the other stooges, uh, Robin and Steve,” he cleared his throat, “you notice anything weird about ‘em, like lately?”

The cafeteria. “Um, yeah, actually.” You contemplated on the thought. “Why, did they say something?”

Nausea hit him like a truck, wondering if "The Hair’s" attempts to get at you were already happening quicker than expected. “S-Steve, he, uh, he said something to you?” Eddie felt his throat dry up.

“Steve? No, Steve’s been Steve, but I was mostly talking about Robin.” Jesus Christ, did you bring peace to his world.

“Oh, yeah,” He puffed a breath of relief, “um, weirdest thing happened after school yesterday, but I think Robin was hitting on me.” Confusion had been written all over your face, as you pulled back from the counter. “She was, like, totally into me.”

“What?” You chuckled. “No, not possible.”

“Okay, ow.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, as you laughed, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm in apology.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean it like that” you giggled, “but I’m sure you probably just misread things, you know? Robin finds you charming in a platonic way, like with Steve.”

Eddie straightened up. “No, I’m telling you, sweetheart, she was all over me.” He persisted. “I mean, for crying out loud, she was touching my bicep.”

A smug smile took over your face, as you arched your brow at him. “This bicep?” You teasingly squeezed his soft arm.

Eddie scoffed. “Well, it’s not flexed right now.”

The back storage unit of Family Video had been littered with an influx of tapes, both coated in dust to be long forgotten and pristine with the newest release of what Hollywood had to offer. This year’s box office hit Top Gun starring Nancy Wheeler’s poster boy, Tom Cruise, or the fourteen-year-old The Ruling Class with the musical humor following a priest’s death due to his autoerotic asphyxiation kink? Robin Buckley laughed. Always the latter.

“God, can’t believe Keith expects us to organize this junk.” Steve huffed, swiping his palms against each other, only to scowl at the specks of dust that floated into the air under the beaming sunlight. “I should be seeing Bridget right now, or Heidi, or taking out Linda, maybe Jeanie, haven’t talked to her in a minute.” Robin rolled her eyes at the endless sex-capades that was Steve Harrington’s love life. Christ, she couldn’t even get a clear sign that Vickie from chemistry wasn’t standing so straight. “Or-or maybe Y/N.” He chuckled to himself.

“What?” Robin prodded.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, last night I was completely bugging out Munson, and told him I was planning on askin’ out Y/N.” Steve laughed, briefly coughing as dust particles blew off the VHS tapes.

Robin was only left deadpanning in disappointment. “You did what now?” She scoffed. “You’re supposed to be on my side, I thought we were supposed to let it go?”

“You’re the one flirting with your friend’s boyfriend.” He argued.

“Because that little twerp forced me to!” The Ruling Class came hurdling to his chest, as she chucked it.

Shoving old movies aside, Steve grappled onto the box of new releases to shove into Robin’s arms, as he handled the second load. “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, there are no sides, as much as I hate to admit it, Henderson was right about those two screwing.” Steve enthused. “You should’ve seen the look on Eddie’s face when I told him I was gonna make a move on Y/N.”

Robin huffed. “Okay, so let’s just leave it at that and let them screw in peace- or, even better yet, let’s just tell them we know, so they can have the freedom to do what they want.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Steve whined.

Robin laughed at his childish mewl. “And, unless Munson gets rid of the thing in his pants and learns to grow a cup or two, I am not flirting with him again.” She playfully gagged, while reminiscing on yesterday’s events.

“Please,” Steve derided, “you can’t even look Vickie in the eye, I highly doubt if Munson suddenly grew some tits you’d become some sort of Casanova.” He snorted, opening the door. “Mr. Bicep?”

Before Robin’s sneaker could step foot back into the main lobby of Family Video, Steve’s grasp onto the collar of her shirt flung her back into the storage room, with a slam to the door. “Are you inane?!” She chastised, while attempting to find her balance with a ten pound box of VHS tapes.

“Munson’s out there!” He whisper-yelled into her face.

“Okay, so?”

“So, we gotta get in there, and stir the pot a little.” His brows danced impishly against his forehead.

Robin’s face dropped vacantly. “What about anything that I literally just said didn’t click for you?” A smack against his head from her hand had him reeling back in defense.

“Ow, okay, I get it, Munson doesn’t have boobs.” Steve huffed, rubbing out the dulling pain. “But, look, Dustin wasn’t that far off, a little encouragement doesn’t harm anyone. He thinks that you like him and that I like her, you’re telling me this isn’t even a little funny to you?” My god, did Steve Harrington have a charming way of flaunting that stupid smirk that had Robin hold back a chuckle. Because in retrospect, Eddie Munson believing his lesbian friend had a crush on him, while her partner in crime, her himbo, had a supposed liking to his secret girlfriend was quite funny. Funny like a priest dying from his autoerotic asphyxiation kink.

She sighed, giving him a pointed glare. “One time, Harrington. This is the one and only time I will ever flirt with a man again.”

Steve threw his hands up in defense, as a smile lingered on his face. “Highly doubt there will ever be a time in which I ask you to do that again.” He laughed, while slinging the door open. “Plus, it’s Munson. I’m sure his cynicism won’t even count it as flirting.”

“Well, Y/N's flirting surely worked.” She joked, as they stepped out.

“You think it’s because he has personality or nice hair?” Steve interrogated. “Because I sure as hell have way better hair than him.”

Despite your alluring face, Eddie caught a glimpse of Steve and Robin making their way over while looking past your shoulder, forcing him to make the regretful decision to back away from you. “Ed.” Your tiny pout of confusion made it all that harder, until Steve’s voice boomed out.

“Hey, y’know, as a customer, you’re supposed to actually rent something!” Him and Robin joined you both at the counters, where they sat the boxes of movies. “Or, you could, y’know, stock shelves with us.”

Eddie flipped him the bird, as he smiled. “Actually, I was just stoppin’ by to ask if Halloween is still rented out.” He turned to look down at you with a smirk. “Is it?”

“I can go check that for you.” Your sweet customer service voice had him biting back a grin, as you stepped away to the computer.

As Steve and Robin began displacing films from the boxes, his elbow nudged her side to grab her attention away from organizing. “Just keep it casual.” He whispered, as she rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m sure if you unfocus your eyes, the five o’clock shadow will go away, and he’ll totally look just like Vickie.” And he huffed right back when Robin rightfully scoffed at him. “What? They have the same eyes… just, y’know, different color… and shape.”

Robin waved him off before anything further could come out of his mouth. With The Fly nestled in her grasp, Steve threw her a nod of encouragement, before scurrying to the shelves with a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Sorry, Eds.” You clicked off the computer. “Landon K. beat you to it; no Halloween.”

“Should totally check out The Fly.” Robin slyly imposed, as she handed him the film. “Can never go wrong with some Cronenberg, right?” Eddie inspected the film with a shrug. “Sure, better than taking movie suggestions from Harrington.”

There came the inordinate laugh from Robin that had Eddie throwing you a knowing glance, and Robin, herself, internally dying inside. “Ha! Always so funny!” She clumsily fist-bumped his arm. “Uh- anyway! Better get back to work.” A large smile flashed both your ways.. “I, uh, I’ll see you later… handsome.” And following in the footsteps of her grandmother when she wasn’t screaming something batshit crazy, Robin Buckley pinched Eddie Munson’s cheek before running away to Steve Harrington.

“You pinched his cheek?!” Steve contemptuously chortled in her frazzled face that burned with embarrassment.

Robin’s hands smack her face, dragging the skin down, as she groaned. “Well, I don’t know how to do the whole flirting thing!” Her fist came smacking down at his chest.

Steve bent at the waist with a cramping stomach of laughter “Okay, yeah, but he’s not a baby!”

Your eyes followed Robin’s running figure until she disappeared into the maze of shelves, and you incredulously turned to your stunned boyfriend. With his mouth wide, and eyes bulging, Eddie fretfully spoke. “Okay, did you see that?! With the compliment, and the pinching?!”

You bewilderedly settled at the realization. “Actually, I did.” You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend was flirting with you boyfriend- well, technically, she had no clue he was your boyfriend, but still- Eddie? Not to sell your boyfriend short, god, he was perfect in every way, but Robin? Robin and Eddie?!

“Okay, so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?” He persisted.

You thought for a second, and Eddie Munson watched your face drop with concern, as your hand clutched your chest. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! She knows about us!” You cautiously warbled, as you began pacing about behind the counter.

Eddie’s face scrunched with distress. “Are you serious?”

“Robin knows, and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You belabored, anxiously looking back to where Steve and Robin could no longer be seen. Your hands dramatically dropped at the revelation. “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Eddie vacillated at the unwarranted insult. “Okay, but what about my pinchable face and bulging biceps?” He confidently pointed to his arm, before the lacking muscle of scrawiness suddenly hit him like a truck. “She knows!”

Your hand comically slapped the counter, as you chuckled in disbelief at her attempt to fool you. “Oh, man, she probably thinks she’s so slick for messing with us.” Eddie joined in, frenziedly laughing, completely feeling stupefied, though giving props to the mastermind, nonetheless. Impressed he was. “But, hey, you know what? She doesn’t know we know she knows, so…”

“Ah, yes!” Eddie piqued with interest. “The messers become the messees!”

“You sure you kids are alright?” Shrugging on his utility jacket for the night, the aging lines of Wayne Munson’s forehead scrunched with suspicion for the nightly activity his nephew and his supposed “friend” were going to be up to.

Sure, the sight of you over at his trailer wasn’t something peculiar, in fact, for the past months, you, in particular, were the only one of Eddie’s buddies who made a regular appearance to their humble abode. Why? Well that was a question that still went unanswered whenever Wayne tried to prod into the life of his nephew. But the way Eddie would blush, while simultaneously attempting to quickly change the subject, made Wayne’s throat tickle with a chuckle.

Who the hell were you two fooling?

But now, with much concern from Wayne, it seemed as though Eddie’s oddities had begun rubbing off on you, as you both strangely huddled around the yellow home phone, clearly waiting for the second Wayne would close the door behind, as he left for the graveyard shift.

Attempting to “casually” lean against the paneling of the wall, Eddie’s head was quick to snap up and down in return. “Yeah, yeah.” He rushed. “Better get goin’, don’t wanna be late for the bosses.” He threw an overcompensating smile, as you sat at the kitchen table, merely following suit to that of your “friend.” Wayne Munson couldn’t care less about the bosses.

“Alright then.” The old man huffed, picking up the keys of his pick-up truck, letting the humid spring breeze waft through the front door. “Get ‘er some dinner if you’re makin’ ‘er stay late.”

“As always.” Eddie threw you a sly wink, as Wayne left with a quick exchange of goodbye thrown from both parties, until the front door finally closed.

At the click, you sprung from your chair, snatching the phone out of the receiver to hand to Eddie, to which he happily grabbed with a maniacal snicker. “You sure she’s over at Steve’s?”

Your fingers were fervent with the harsh press to the buttons, dialing the numbers to phone the Harrington residence. “Uh huh, something about watching Fast Times with Robin.” The second your finger pressed down on the last digit, you were quick to maneuver the phone against Eddie’s ear. “Okay, just stick to the script.”

Eddie scoffed, flipping his hair back. “Sweetheart, please, I was able to get you, I sure as hell can get Robin.” Your hand met his chest with a chastising slap. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed.

Up the road, on the secluded sector of Cornwallis Street, Robin Buckley was anxiously plowing through a bowl of popcorn, as the fifty-second minute was fastly approaching, and suddenly Phoebe Cates was climbing out of the pool with the detrimental ambience of teenage horniness.

“Here it comes, here it comes!” Steve snickered, as he absentmindedly chewed on a licorice piece.

Robin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “God, Steve, you don’t have to point out the obvious!” But after forcing her friend to endure two hours and thirty-four minutes of the satirical musical critique of institutional religion that was The Ruling Class, Steve decided to return the torture by subjection of… boobies.

“What I’m point out is the fact that Vickie lived through this exact moment, meaning she was staring at boobies, meaning-”

“Don’t say it!”

“Vickie likes boobies!” Steve implored, the largest grin on his face, as he watched Robin slap her hands onto her face at a brutal attempt to shield herself from the mortifying experience that was having Steve Harrington as a friend.

But, in slow motion, as Phoebe Cates’ fingers clutched onto the center hook of her bikini bra, the phone shrilled, allowing Robin to exhale a “thank god,” as Steve’s attention begrudgingly turned to the incoming call.

Swiftly jumping to the end table, Steve picked up the brick phone. “Yeah, hello?” He spoke, munching on another rope of his candy, surely missing the quick glances Robin was making back at the TV. Steve’s brows piqued at the static voice. “Oh! Yeah, she’s right here!” Turning to Robin, his hand cupped over the speaker, as he giddily shoved the phone to her. “It’s Eddie, he’s probably gonna cave in.” He whispered.

Rolling her eyes, Robin cleared her throat from any stray popcorn kernel, ready to end this once and for all. “Hello?”

Back at Forest Hills, your toes pressed against the linoleum tiling of the kitchen floor to push yourself up to his height, smushing your ear against the other side of the phone, as mischievous smiles consumed both your faces. “Hello, Robin… I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” Eddie channeled his most suave voice, forcing you to bite back a laugh, suppressing your mouth into his shoulder.

“Huh?!” Devious as ever, both you and Eddie almost broke at her considerable shock.

Steve raised a questioning brow, attempting to scoot closer, only for Robin to preserve her personal bubble and shove him back. Much to his nosey dismay. “Well, y’know that thing you said before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.” Eddie teased, as you nodded your head along to show your proudness for your boyfriend flirting with your friend.

Yeah, things in Hawkins, Indiana surely were weird.

“R-Really?” Robin choked, as the popcorn in her stomach suddenly turned at the uneasiness of male attention. Gross.

Ever the villain, Eddie smiled triumphantly. “Yeah, listen my uncle isn’t gonna be here tonight, so why don’t you come over, and I’ll let you, uh, feel my bicep… or maybe more.” You quietly chuckled. God, what a cute loser.

Robin grimaced, stuttering with concern. “Uh, you know, I-I’ll have to get b-back to you on that, uh, okay, bye!” She was quick to hang up the phone, while you and Eddie intimately celebrated in the lonesome of his kitchen with silly squeals and tiny jumps. “Oh, my god! He wants me to come over to feel his bicep and more!”

Steve Harrington was left speechless at Robin’s panicked announcement, as his mouth hung wide. “Are you kidding?!”

“No!” She gagged. “I know what I heard!”

Steve felt incredulously at the scumminess of his friend. “I cannot believe he would do that to… wait a second.” His brows furrowed. Eddie Munson nearly launched at the chance to shut down any ideas of Steve dating you, why on Earth would he suddenly- oh, shit. “They know!”

“What?!”

“They know that we know!” Steve clarified, as the gears in Robin’s head turned, until her face was enlightened with the fact of the matter which was that her best friend was trying to deceive her right back!

She gasped. “I can’t believe those two!” Instantaneously, any reservations Robin initially had for Steve and Dustin’s plan had left, as all she felt was dramatic offense at the idea of trying to be demeaned.

“They thought that they could mess with us?!” Steve proclaimed.

“They’re trying to mess with us?!” In disbelief, both friends chuckled with bewilderment at the unexpected slyness coming from you two. That was, until Robin Buckley schemed with realization. “They don’t know we know they know we know!”

Steve’s face scrunched with confusion, though nonetheless a team player, he nodded along, giggling at Robin’s wicked implication. Suddenly, a call to the Henderson household was in need.

Dustin Henderson’s calves burned under the rigorous strain of bike riding from the northern end of Cornwallis street to reach Steve’s house. Haphazardly disposing his bicycle in the driveway, Dustin had barged in with no warning, coming face-to-face with Robin Buckley, resident polyglot band geek, wearing Mrs. Harrington’s blue cocktail dress, as Steve Harrington, retired king of Hawkins High, played makeup artist with his mother’s newly bought red lipstick in hand.

It was undeniable at this point, Hawkins, Indiana was most definitely weird.

“Would you just quit moving, so I can put this on you?!” The vein on Steve’s forehead became pronounced under the immense pressure he felt. Being a makeup artist surely wasn’t easy, especially when your client was nagging about the intense blush placement of his work.

“Enough with the makeup, it’s Eddie for Christ sake!” Robin complained, enduring the endeavor of trying to shove Mrs. Harrington’s shoes onto her feet. God, why was the woman’s shoe size so small?!

“Really Steve?!” Robin and Steve jumped at the intruding voice of Dustin, as the kid stood with his hands on his hips, imitating the signature pose of the man before him. “That’s totally not her color, you’re making her look like a clown!”

Both parties scoffed, rightfully offended.

Robin pushed Steve away, rubbing her cheeks harshly to blend out the monstrosity that was Steve’s makeup skills. “Okay, this is plenty!” She stressed. “We’re gonna call him, we’re gonna get that date, and we’re gonna win!”

The boys cheered, Dustin more so heavily appreciative of this new Buckley mentality, as they circled around her when she reached for the phone. “Mm! You better grab a spring roll before I eat ‘em all.” Eddie’s crowded mouth of mashed vegetables spoke. Chinese had been delivered in the wake of your celebration, congratulating both of you for your—mostly Eddie—duplicitously clever work.

In the midst of diving into your tangled lo mein, the phone shrilled, which had Eddie springing from the couch. “Probably calling back to surrender!” You cheered, as Eddie snickered, sliding his socked feet into the kitchen. “Good job on creeping her out, babe!”

Eddie bowed, accepting whatever weird kind of praise that was, before answering the phone with a muffled mouth of spring rolls. “Hello?”

“Be sexy.” Steve encouraged, eliciting a scoff from Robin, as she turned her focus onto the phone call.

“Hi!” Both terribly displeased with her lack of commitment, Robin was met with strict glares from Dustin and Steve to amp it up… so, she did. Clearing her throat, she dropped an octave to obtain the sultriness of what she could only assume Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond to sound like. “Uh, I mean, hey, you.” Robin Buckley wanted to puke. “So, Eddie, I’d love to come over tonight.”

A piece of pork was hacked from Eddie’s throat, as he choked on his food. “R-Really?!”

Watching his face drop, you stood with concern wondering what was going on on the other line. “Oh, absolutely. Should we say around nine?” Eddie checked his clock. In fifteen fucking minutes?!

But Eddie Munson wasn’t going to back down. Eddie Munson, Dungeon Master of the great Hellfire, who’s pushed his men to prevail against the nefarious dark lords of villages and towns alike, was not going to be defeated by Trumpet Girl. The man glared his eyes. “Yes.” He tested.

Robin Buckley accepted his challenge. “Good.” She smiled, as she watched Steve motion for her to crank it up a notch. “Uh, I’m really looking forward to you and I h-having sexual intercourse.” The phone hung up and flung from her hands the second the words left her mouth.

Eddie Munson’s face dropped. Dustin Henderson gagged. Steve Harrington laughed. And Robin Buckley wanted to crawl into a hole to forever perish in the depths of torturous hell.

Because that’s what it felt like to flirt with a man.

“Okay, showtime!” Dustin applauded from the backseat of Steve’s car, where Robin scrambled to effortlessly scrunch her hair around.

“Here’s the perfume.” Steve pushed down the nozzle of the stolen fragrance of his mother’s collection—thanking god for the moment that she wasn’t here—where his finger spritzed numerous doses against Robin, causing the car to invade with the nauseating scent of strong, overpowering flowers.

Robin coughed. “Alright, quit it! The kid has allergies.”

“I have allergies!” Dustin sneezed.

Steve huffed in annoyance, watching as Robin unbuckled from her seat. The beaming headlights that had once reflected off the vinyl-covered walls of the trailer had been switched off for stake-out purposes, as Steve’s car parked in the open area of the Munson home in the quiet night.

“Hand over the wine, Henderson.” Buckled next to the seat of Dustin’s—for protective measures—a bottle of his parent's stolen chardonnay rested like a passenger on board; Steve’s, ever the romantic, suggestion for the authenticity of a real date.

“Is this really necessary?” Robin truly had no room to talk, she most definitely hadn’t experienced the polarizing events of the dating scene, let alone ones of heterosexual realms (thankfully).

Scoffing, Steve was galled by the dig at his—for once—knowledgeable expertise of life phenomena. “Are you kidding, chicks go for this shit.” Surely, Bridget, Heidi, Linda, and Jeanie can attest to his opinion.

“Yeah, well, Munson’s definitely not a chick… unfortunately.” She mumbled.

“Huh?” Dustin asked.

Robin was quick to shut up in a panic. “Nothing!”

“Look, just get in there, and do your thing, alright?” Whatever attempt at a pep talk this was from Steve Harrington devastatingly fell short, as the last thing Robin Buckley expected to do on her Tuesday night was go out on a date with a man, who so happened to be her best friend’s boyfriend. Thing?! What thing?! She couldn’t even stare her crush in the eye for Christ sake, Steven! Robin Buckley has no thing! And Eddie Munson unfortunately does- the repulsing (to her) kinda thing that Robin Buckley doesn’t even like! She huffed. “Just take it easy. The second Munson lets you in, we’ll sneak up to the door, and hear through there.”

On the edge of his bed, Eddie Munson let your hands wander about, until his appearance was up to your liking; voluminous hair, controlled friz, straightened shirt, and a bottle of minty mouth spray that he coughed at, but necessary for the prevention of spring roll breath. “Okay, you’re gonna be great!” You motivated him with the words of encouragement, as you brushed away his stray hairs. “You just make her think you want to have sex with her, and it’ll totally freak her out.”

Eddie straightened up, shaking his body from any jitters, and stretching as if a marathon was in place. “Okay, so how far am I exactly supposed to go with her?” His face etched with concern.

You waved him off. “Relax, alright, she’s gonna give in way before you do!” If there was anything you learned about Robin Buckley in your months of friendship, it was the blatantly obvious fact that she would shrivel up in awkwardness before anything further took place.

Eddie Munson freaked at your sudden certainty. “How do you even know?!”

“Because you’re on my team!” You stressed. “And my team always wins!”

His face scrunched with fret. “At this?!”

Tentative knocking against the front door pulled you both away from the conversation. It was game time. “Eddie,” his head whipped back to you, “you’re the Dungeon Master, okay? This, this is nothing in comparison to dark lord wizard thingies.” God, he knew for certain you didn’t fully understand his interest in Dungeons and Dragon, but the time you took to support him was making his heart beat faster than any fake date with your best friend could ever make him feel.

You make him feel such incredible things.

“You’re the master here, you’re in control, you got this!” Jesus Christ, the corny shit your competitiveness was making you say was too fucking cute. “Just go get some!” You finished him with a quick kiss that had him yearning for more, but your body quickly scurried away to the bathroom.

Eddie Munson sighed. Cracking his neck, he rolling his shoulder. “I’m the Dungeon Master. I’m in control.”

Steve clutched a heavy hand on his steering wheel, as both him and Dustin peered through the windows. “Okay, just wait for it… wait for it… wait- get down!” The boys dropped their heads the second Eddie’s front door opened with a dramatic swing.

And there she was. Eddie cocked an eyebrow for whatever reason it was Robin Buckley chose to show up overly dressed like a middle-aged woman, and with an awkward smile to taint her image. But Eddie Munson was right there to follow suit with a strange grin to greet her.

“Robin.”

“Eddie.”

“Come on in.”

“I was going to.”

As the trailer door closed shut, Steve and Dustin silently crawled their way out of the car with their utmost quietest attempts of closing the doors shut behind them. With crouched stances like detectives on duty, the pair scampered their way to the top of Eddie’s cemented stairs, where their heads pressed against the front door to hear the muffled conversation from the other side.

“I, uh, brought some wine.” Robin held up the bottle, as Eddie was slightly taken aback. What the hell kinda teenager brings wine to a date? Probably the kind who’s a lesbian, and going out with her best friend’s boyfriend out of competition. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Making their way to the kitchen, Eddie secured two cups, as Robin popped off the protruding cork top, and suddenly she felt entirely even more stupid than the fact that she was on a “date” with a man, when Eddie proffered matching Garfield and Odie mugs for glasses of chardonnay.

The dreadful silence began to take over, and Eddie could only manage to fill it with thorny chuckles, as Robin filled the mugs. “So, uh,” she sighed, “here we are. Nervous?”

“Me? No. You?” He skeptically questioned.

But Robin Buckley was there to provoke him. “No, I want this to happen.”

“So do I.” Eddie cleared his throat, before their glasses clicked with a toast, and Robin and Eddie found themselves chugging down the mug-fulls of alcohol to hopefully forget the disturbing night they were about to endure. When cups fell empty, Eddie sighed and turned to the radio that rested atop of the washing machine. “Why don’t I, uh, play some music; set the mood a little.”

Call her inexperience, whatever, but Robin knew there was no way in hell the screeching voices of Slayer attested to “setting the mood” during date night. God, she felt bad for you- for straight women. “Maybe-maybe I’ll, uh, dance for you.” She dared right back.

Where Robin could judge Eddie on his music taste, Eddie could return the favor in her lack of mobility, as her body began clumsily swaying about in his kitchen, off rhythm to the already undanceable sounds to thrashing metal. Her contorting ankles in kitten heels paired with her jutting hips allowed her to mortifyingly saunter her way over to an uncomfortable Eddie, who was wielding the willpower to not bark a laugh in her face.

But Robin Buckley was not going to win this. Not when Eddie Munson’s pride stood in the way. “Mm, you look good.” He spoke so stiffly, as he defied back with a taunting grin.

“Why, thank you.” She forced out a laugh. “Y-You know, when you say things l-like that, it makes me wanna, um, rip that… Weird Al t-shirt right off.” Jesus Christ, Dustin made him get matching ones.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat, “well, uh, why don’t we move this to the bedroom then?” His brows pointed, eyes glared.

Robin immediately stopped her bizarre dancing. “Really?” Her panic settled in.

“Oh!” Eddie quickly stepped back with an impeding smile. “Do you not want to?” He urged.

“No, no.” Robin composed herself, waving him off with faux confidence. “I just, um, you know, first, I wanna t-take off all my clothes, and have you r-rub lotion all over me.” Is that what straight people do before sex?!

Eddie’s throat constricted with little air, and a tightening hand of embarrassment. “Well, that would be nice.” His voice raised a cracking octave. “I’ll, uh, go get the lotion.” Before Robin could respond, Eddie was already running away to the bathroom. Your gnawing teeth had bitten through your nail when Eddie came bustling through the door. “Okay, this is totally getting out of hand.” He fretfully groused, as he crowded your area in the small room. “She wants me to put lotion on her!” Eddie dramatically snarled.

You rebuffed his dread. “She’s bluffing!”

Eddie huffed. “Look, she’s not backing down. Jesus, shit, she went like this!” He suddenly gyrated his stiff hips harshly against you to mimic her dancing.

A couple feet away at the front door of Eddie’s trailer, Robin was in consternation, frantically rambling to Steve and Dustin. “He is not backing down! He went to get lotion!”

“You aren’t done yet?” Dustin heaved. “You’re supposed to be on my team, he should be cracking right now!”

Her angry finger flicked against his forehead, despite his insistent cries of pain. “This is all your fault to begin with!”

“Okay, will everybody just calm down for a second?” Steve hushed, where his hands found the relaxing perch against his hips, as if his motherly duties were calling. “Think of it this way, the sooner you get Eddie to break, the sooner this can all be over with.”

“Ooh, I like that.” Robin nodded along.

“Just amp the flirting, alright?” Steve coached. “Look, it took him weeks to actually approach a girl at the bar, he used to get totally flustered whenever he’d play wingman for me. How the hell managed to get Y/N? I don’t know, but all I do know is that just like you, Eddie Munson is a total dud when it comes to flirting.”

Her mouth fell agape at the insult that stung too much from the utter reality of the statement. It didn’t make her feel any better when Dustin shoved that patronizing look in her face. “Yeah, Robin, sweetie, you are not doing a good job right now.”

“How would you know? You’re fourteen!” She bellowed.

“And yet, which one of us is in a loving, committed relationship?” The kid snided.

Steve shushed Dustin away before a catfight could break out on the doorstep of Eddie’s home. “Look, you got this. Just make Munson uncomfortable! You’re a girl, you got this!”

“He’s a boy, he makes me uncomfortable!” She spat.

Ransacking his bathroom cabinets for a bottle of lotion, you hastily shoved the bottle into his grasp, and clutched onto his shoulders. “You go back in there, and you seduce her till she cracks!” Never in a million years did you think you’d encourage your boyfriend to do that. Though with this much commitment, he should really get you into Dungeons and Dragons.

“Okay, just give me a second.” He took a deep breath for composure, just as he got a good glimpse of his bathroom. “Did you clean up in here?!” Your eyes rolled, before grappling onto the doorknob, and pushing Eddie out of the bathroom. He slowly approached the kitchen, where his nervousness eased at the sight of Robin at the door. “Oh, you’re, uh… you’re going!” He smiled.

Steve Harrington's voice replayed in her head, and Robin cleared her throat to pull out the sultry crisp she was needing to flirt. “Um, not without you, lover.”

Eddie flashed her a tight-lipped smile, as he released a big sigh. “Well, uh, come here.” He beckoned. “I’m very happy we’re gonna have all the sex.”

Robin ignored the disgust in her belly to test him. “Y-You should be.” She smirked. “I’m very bendy.” Eddie’s eyebrows pulled with fright, as she stepped closer. “I’m going to k-kiss you now.”

And Eddie bothered her right back. “Not if I, um, kiss you first!” With a foot apart, Robin Buckley made her first move on a man, as her stiff hand latched uncomfortably to Eddie’s waist. Devastatingly following in line, Eddie’s fingertips barely grazed her skin, as they lightly rested onto her shoulder, neither party urging anyone to come closer. “Well, I-I guess there’s nothing left for us to do than to kiss.”

“Here it comes.” With rigid lips tucked inward, and tense bodies hesitantly pulling together, Eddie Munson genuinely began to realize how much of a idiotic idea all this was. A nauseating feeling struck him, as he understood what a lousy world it’d be to live in if he had to continue to disguise his feelings for you. I mean, going on a date with your best friend? This is the lengths he’s going to to hide something so perfect? And Robin. For the love of god, if picturing Joan Jett over Eddie’s face was needed to make this experience slightly less miserable, then, yeah, maybe this plan was stupid all along.

“Okay, okay, okay! Fine, you win!” Eddie pulled away, as Robin’s face astounded. “I will not have sex with you!” He huffed with exhaustion.

“And why not?” Robin smiled, as the victory was coming her way.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N!”

“You’re-you’re what?” The front door jolted open, as Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson hurdled their way in, but Eddie took no notice of the peculiarity in that. Not when he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

“Love her!” He proclaimed at the top of lungs. “That’s right! I love her!” Eddie pointed to you, as you made your way closer. “I love her! I’m in love with her!” And suddenly, the reality of you actually standing in front of him hit him, and Eddie realized the weight of what he just admitted to you… and his friends. Eddie took a deep breath, as he solemnly stared down at you, and in an instant, he felt his body calm at the sight of your smile. “I love you, Y/N.”

His hands took solace against your warm cheeks, where you stared up at with adoration in your eyes. “I love you, Eddie.” Your arms circled around his neck, as his desperate hands clung to your shirt to pull you into an intoxicating kiss that had you both mewling with tenderness. This was it. Eddie Munson knew love.

That was until Robin spoke. “Oh, my god, you guys! We thought you were just doing it, we didn’t know you were in love!” She gushed.

Steve shyly smiled from the back. “Dude!” He effused.

“Aha!” And then there was Dustin Henderson. “I told you! I told all of you! And none of you wanted to believe me! I was right and you were wrong!” He pompously smiled, before turning to you and Eddie. “By the way, I was the first to know! I’ve been knowing for a week after you freaks forced me to lose my dice!”

Eddie chuckled, as his hands stayed secured around you. “Actually, Dustin, Max was kinda the first to know. She found out four months ago, when she caught Y/N leaving my place at night.” He admitted. “Been blackmailed ever since; spent $20 on some damn heart-shaped sunglasses.”

“Are you kidding me!” Dustin felt gobsmacked, betrayed and abandoned, like those damn Fritos.

“Hey, but, uh, hats off to you, Robin.” Eddie smiled, offering a hand of congratulation. “Quite the competitor.” And she shook it proudly, another notch in whatever weird belt this was.

“I still can’t believe you never told me.” Dustin gasped. “I mean, seriously, Max out of all people.” Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson’s voices eventually faded into the background, as you managed to slip away from your boyfriend’s grasp to hold onto the hand of your best friend, while you whisked her away to the quiet corner of the living room.

“Hey, so I just wanted to apologize to you real quick.” You softly smiled at Robin. “I mean, going through all this just because I kept this from you,” you sighed, “I’m just really sorry you were forced to date my boyfriend.”

Robin laughed, as she squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry you’re forced to date him everyday.” She joked. “No, but seriously, you don’t have to apologize at all.” Her throat began to sting with the heftiness of her feelings, but she felt the warmth of fingers against hers, and Robin Buckley took her deep breath. “I understand why you did it- why you felt the need to hide.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” She tearfully smiled. “I feel the same way, just a little different. I just, um, I know what it’s like to want to keep something to yourself, because having to come out as something you know the world isn’t going to love is scary. It’s really scary, Y/N.” Her hand tightened, as her voice cracked.

But in true Buckley style, that beautiful smile never left her face, as she told you her biggest fear. But what a shame it was that the world made her biggest fear her truest self. Your arms wrapped around her in a suffocating hug, where she let out a shaky sigh against your shoulder. “Robin,” you whispered into her hair, “I love you.” You implored. “Eddie does. Steve does. I hope you know that this town isn't worth being scared of.” You felt her shudder against you, as your hand soothed down her back. “Not when you’re so goddamn perfect.” Robin laughed, as she pulled away, clearing her eyes from any unspilled tears that threatened to stain her cheeks. “I know it’s easier said than done, but genuinely, don't waste your perfect self on what the world wants.” She digested your words, flashing you a thankful grin, as she steady to jumping nerves. “I mean, take it from the man himself, your date tonight, who’s univocally himself.”

You both turned to the kitchen, where Steve and Eddie had Dustin pinned, with a spring roll in hand, trying to shove it down the defiant kid’s mouth. “Jesus, I really am sorry you have to date him.”

You both laughed, as you watched the commotion take place. And you looked at Eddie Munson, how effortlessly beautiful he was, and how comfortable those around him came to be in his accepting presence. “He’s not too bad.” You smiled. “Now, c’mon, we have Chinese and chardonnay to celebrate!”

Finally letting the child go, Steve snagged the spring roll with a monumental bite of pleasure, before closely crowding into Eddie’s bubble. “No, but seriously, dude, how the hell did you do it?” Steve Harrington pointed to you, as Eddie Munson smiled.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson

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aiweirdness · 1 year ago

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AI versus a giraffe with no spots

On July 31, 2023, a giraffe with no spots was born at Brights Zoo in Tennessee.

Image recognition algorithms are trained on a variety of images from around the internet, and/or on a few standard image datasets. But there likely haven't been any spotless giraffes in their training data, since the last one to be born was probably in 1972 in Tokyo. How do they do when faced with photos of the spotless giraffe?

Here's Multi-Modal In-Context Learning:

And InstructBLIP, which was more eloquent but also added lots of spurious detail.

More examples at AiWeirdness.com

Are these crummy image recognition models? Not unusually so. As far as I can tell with a brief poke around, MMICL and InstructBLIP are modern models (as of Aug 2023), fairly high up on the leaderboards of models answering questions about images. Their demonstration pages (and InstructBLIP's paper) are full of examples of the models providing complete and sensible-looking answers about images.

Then why are they so bad at Giraffe With No Spots?

I can think of three main factors here:

AI does best on images it's seen before. We know AI is good at memorizing stuff; it might even be that some of the images in the examples and benchmarks are in the training datasets these algorithms used. Giraffe With No Spots may be especially difficult not only because the giraffe is unusual, but because it's new to the internet.

AI tends to sand away the unusual. It's trained to answer with the most likely answer to your question, which is not necessarily the most correct answer.

The papers and demonstration sites are showcasing their best work. Whereas I am zeroing in on their worst work, because it's entertaining and because it's a cautionary tale about putting too much faith in AI image recognition.

#neural networks #image recognition #giraffes #instructBLIP #MMICL #giraffe with no spots #i really do wonder if all the hero demo images from the papers were in the training data

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dresshistorynerd · 9 months ago

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This is kind of random, but would it have been a struggle for a big busted women to wear fashionable silhouettes in the medieval era? I’ve heard some costume historians discuss that there were forms of bust support, but most of what I’ve seen pre-1500s seems like it would have been a nightmare for any ancestor with a similar bodytype to wear. Am I just from a line of women doomed to horrible back pain? (On the flip side of the situation, I’ve found corsets and stays to be rather comfortable, so that’s not a problem)

As a fellow big boob haver, I have good news for you! There were pretty good Medieval bust supporting garments and I have tested one of them.

With sturdy fabric, tailoring and lacing you can create pretty good bust support. Lacing was popularized first in 12th century in form of bliaut, and in 14th century tailoring became standard for everyday garments. I don't know how well bliaut supported the bust, but since it doesn't fit super snugly, I assume it doesn't distribute the weight of the boobs as well as tailored supporting garments and therefore isn't as supportive. I'm also not actually sure if there was proper bust supporting garments before that, I haven't looked into it. I know Romans bound their breasts with cloth wrapped around the chest, so maybe that technique continued (at least for those who especially needed it) till lacing and tailoring became a thing. For more about how supporting garments developed in Europe through history, I have a post about development of lacing, which coincides pretty well with that history from 12th century forward.

Personally I have experience with Medieval Bathhouse dress, which was used in the Germanic Central-European area roughly in 14th to 16th century. It's called the Bathhouse dress because most depictions of it are from bathhouse settings, but there's depiction also in bed chambers and other contexts, so I think it's pretty safe to assume it was used more generally as an undergarment. It often had separate cups for the boobs (see the only extant garment left of it, the so called "Lengberg Castle Bra"), but not always. Unlike most other undergarments at the time, it was sort of a shift (the lowest layer) and a supporting garment combined into one.

I sewed my own recreation of it (with some alterations because I made it for my everyday use, not as a historical recreation) and did a post about my results, where I go deeper into the history of the garment too. I didn't construct it very well and I did an error in the design of the back, which cause the strain of the shoulder straps to focus too much on very specific spots in the back panel, which eventually made the fabric there break too many times. (There were some other smaller design flaws too, like the waistline is lower than my natural waist so it rose and wrinkled annoyingly.) I did use it daily (except when I washed it) for a fairly long time though and it was super comfortable and helped a lot with back pain (and shoulder pain caused by use of modern bras). I hate that I've had to go back to modern bras because I haven't had the time to remake it yet. (I'll probably make a follow up post once I get around to it, where I go through the issues of the first version and how I addressed them in the next attempt.) Well fitted and shaped bodice which is then laced does surprisingly much even without any additional reinforcements.

I haven't made a Medieval kirtle (though I will some day), but it was the more widely used Medieval supporting garment, which eventually replaced Bathhouse dress in the area where that was used. Kirtle is worn over a shift, but it broadly works similarly. Kirtles could be front, side or back laced depending on the time period and how the Kirtle was constructed. Multiple layers of kirtles could be used and looser overgarments (like houppelande) were often used on top of it. Kirtle was used by everyone, including men, but for those who didn't need bust support, it's purpose was mainly to create the fashionable silhouette. Here's three depictions of kirtles from 15th century. First unlaced, but has lacing on the front, second close up of the side lacing and third shows nicely how both front and side/backlacing shaped the bust.

Morgan Donner is a costumer, who focuses a lot on Medieval costuming and has a big bust, so while I haven't personally tested the supportiveness of kirtle, she certainly has. The kirtle bodice part needs to be patterned to accommodate the breasts by giving it round shapes and the kirtle needs to be a little too small so there's room to lace it to fit well. Lining also helps to reinforce the fabric and make it more firm and supportive. Here's Morgan's pattern from the tutorial in her website and how the kirtle eventually fits for her. (Also look at the handsome boy in his handsome matching outfit.)

She also has a video relating to the same kirtle project, where she explains her method to pattern a kirtle specifically so it's supportive for big bust.

In 16th century more stiffness was added to kirtles, first with very stiff lining and then with boning, but that doesn't necessarily add to the bust support, rather it just allows the kirtle to shape the bust and the body in general more and better support a heavy skirt. Firm fabric secured snugly with lacing is already very good at distributing the weight of the boobs to the whole torso.

In conclusion, at least since 14th century people with our body type were not doomed to eternal back pain and even before that some ways to help with it were probably used.

#historical fashion #fashion history #dress history #history #historical costuming #historical sewing #sewing #crafts #costuming #fashion #medieval fashion

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sailforvalinor · 1 year ago

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A quick analysis of why Ezra and Thrawn are each other’s perfect nemesis (especially for those who aren’t as familiar with Rebels):

The reason that Thrawn is so dangerous is, of course, not just because of his analytical mind or brilliant battle tactics, but because he takes the time to know his enemy. He understands what all art historians or anyone in the liberal arts can tell you: that art is one of the clearest windows into a society, and studying a society’s art can tell you just as much, if not more than a history book can. Thrawn always takes the time to throughly understand his enemy before he fights them, and that includes the Jedi Ezra Bridger.

The problem is, however, that Ezra is not a typical Jedi. It stands to reason that what Thrawn knows about the Jedi comes from the Jedi Generals in the Clone Wars, who abided by very standard military tactics—and to a point, having fought in the Clone Wars, Kanan Jarrus, Ezra’s master, often used those tactics, and passed some of them on to Ezra. However, since he primarily fought in a small rebel cell, Ezra was primarily a guerrilla fighter. Even when they went on to join the larger Rebellion, Kanan and Ezra often avoided their larger full-scale battles in favor of smaller ops that catered to their talents, only joining large battles when it was absolutely necessary to turn the tables. And though he was a commander, it was actually fairly rare that he led troops into battle like the Jedi generals in the Clone Wars.

Additionally, while early on in his arc he shares some similarities with Anakin and Luke (especially in his struggle to figure out how to protects those he loves without falling to the Dark Side), it becomes apparent by the end of Rebels that he is on the path to becoming a Jedi like Qui-Gon Jinn or Yoda—that is, a Jedi very in-tune with the Living Force. Though he possesses many of the more physical talents we associate with the Jedi—heightened senses, strengthened physical abilities, skill with a lightsaber, etc—his talents have always tended towards the more cerebral (e.g., he was receiving extremely vivid visions of the future while struggling just to levitate an object). One really interesting thing about Rebels is that it often chooses to represent the presence of the Force with a high-pitched whistling sound, one that Ezra quite often seems to hear and let guide his decisions. He is also very prone to receiving extremely vivid Force visions. But the ability he is most known for, especially in Ahsoka, is his ability to connect to living beings. If you were wondering why such a deal is made over the Loth-Cat in episode one, it’s because Loth-Cats have become somewhat of a motif for Ezra, just like the purrgil—they seem to be always around him in Rebels, and serve as a sort of barometer to the audience as to how strong Ezra’s Force abilities are. In season one, they would just pop out and hiss at him every once in awhile, but by season four, they’re all over him—if he stood out in a field and held still for too long he’d just be buried in cats. The same goes for other creatures—he befriends the purrgil early on in the show, and is able to enlist their help in the finale. He’s also so in-tune with the Living Force on his home planet of Lothal that he is approached by Loth-Wolves, mysterious, spiritual beings who weren’t thought to exist outside the realm of myth, and shown a way to use a hyperspace corridor to travel to the other side of the planet.

However, this ability doesn’t just extend to animals—it extends to people, too. It’s like someone poured everything into his charisma stat. He makes friends everywhere he goes, so easily it’s like breathing, and people naturally gravitate towards him and want to help him. (It’s probably why he has made such good friends with those adorable rock people—he just can’t help being forcibly adopted wherever he goes.) The reason he is able to beat Thrawn in the end of Rebels is that he calls in every single favor from all the people he recruited to his side throughout the past four seasons, and when you see everyone on screen—former Imperial cadets, smugglers, deposed military leaders, space wolves, space whales, Clones, etc—it’s then that you realize just what an inspiring leader he is. If Ezra can get Hondo Onaka of all people to join Rebellion, you know he’s got something special.

Not to mention, since Ezra has spoken to and been indirectly trained by a Force being (the Bendu) and was the first on-screen Jedi to discover the World Between Worlds, it’s quite possible that he understands the Living Force better, or at least in a very different way, than most Jedi within the Order did.

To sum it all up, Ezra is just so different, so unconventional, both as a military leader and as a Jedi, that Thrawn, for all his military prowess, doesn’t know what to do with him. He is absolutely unpredictable, because he always abides by the will of the Force, something Thrawn is completely unable to get access to or understand. I always think of them when I see this meme:

because it’s almost quite literally what happens in the Rebels finale. Thrawn has pulled off a seemingly infallible maneuver, the Rebels are completely pinned-down, their resources are maxed-out, and he knows they will not risk the deaths of civilians. Ezra gives himself up, and he thinks he’s won. But then what does Ezra do? He summons a flock of purrgil who drag him, along with his entire Star Destroyer, into hyperspace and jump to another galaxy. How on earth could Thrawn have even predicted that? And even if he had known Ezra’s plan, what could he have even done?

That’s why Thrawn is so eager to kill Ezra in Ahsoka. Something tells me that he’s been hunting him in these ten years we haven’t seen them—because he knows that this one man is far more dangerous than anything waiting for him in the galaxy he is preparing to invade.

#this got LONG I apologize #this is probably going to be an ezra bridger stan blog for awhile everyone fair warning #ezra bridger #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka 2023 #star wars rebels #swr #Star Wars #star wars meta #grand admiral thrawn

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canisalbus · 1 year ago

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hello!! i’ve always wondered what kind of traumas vasco holds himself. i know machete can be very particular (e.g. touching/personal space) , but what are some things maybe machete does to make vasco more comfortable out of just their pure love for each other? like, for example - assume vasco maybe has a hard time keeping up with personal hygiene , or maybe machete is just a lot more clean and neat than vasco is , so machete is always folding his clothes to his own standards and reminding him to wash his fur after a while of going about weekly things , since machete himself probably washes every so often just to brush out matts in his fur .

love your art btw!! :3

He really doesn't like being told what to do. His father was keen on molding Vasco into his own image and his mother was overbearing and overprotective. He was their only son (youngest child, he has two older twin sisters) and as such a lot of pressure and unrealistic expectations were placed on him. He has a tendency to rebel against authorities, especially those who use their power and status to make life miserable for people below them. He has hard time accepting advice and doesn't listen if someone shows up to explain him how he should live his life. One of the ways Machete occasionally gets on his nerves is his constant need to be in control of everything going on around him, which means he often ends up attempting to (well-meaningly) manage Vasco as well. Eventually he figures out Vasco isn't very receptive to outside guidance and usually tries to give him room to do things his own way, even if it's not the "correct" way he would prefer to handle them.

Machete has many health anxieties and once Vasco becomes a fixed part of his life he starts to worry about his wellbeing as well. Like many floppy eared dogs, Vasco has a history of dealing with recurring ear infections, especially when he was very young. Antibiotics weren't available yet so the most effective way to treat them was puncturing the ear drum and letting the accumulated fluid and pus drain out. It was painful and scary and left Vasco with a lasting aversion and distrust for medicine and doctors. He's the kind of person that resists seeking treatment even when they're clearly ill or injured and just tries to shrug it off and wait it out. Luckily he's rarely sick and the scuffs and bruises he gets from being an active and outdoorsy person heal fairly quickly. Nowadays he's very careful about drying and airing out his ear canals properly when they get wet, in hopes of minimizing the chances of another infection. He also cleans them regularly, or lets Machete help with that.

He can be a bit disorganized and overly spontaneous, which can manifest as certain sense of chaoticness. Machete does end up subtly and discreetly picking up after him, planning ahead and going the extra mile to make sure Vasco's life goes as smoothly as possible, usually in ways Vasco doesn't even notice. The clothing part was an apt everyday example, Vasco has a habit of disrobing quickly and carelessly and leaving his (expensive and expertly tailored) garments on the floor or draped across furniture and sooner or later Machete will collect them and fold them neatly for him.

#answered #thedarkspiresofkredikshaw #Vasco #Machete

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see-arcane · 1 year ago

Text

The Vampyres--The Bones and Blood of the Book

Good news! I’m not dead and the book isn’t either! Just shambling slowly through the wasteland of the publication process. It’s been a bit since I last waved this bloody morsel around. So, consider this a progress report on the state of the novella, the prospective publishing options, and a few other questions that have been bouncing around in the inbox.

EDIT:

I have a website now! For some reason.

It's See Arcane Scribbles.

Smaller Edit:

Got a Spotify too for story soundtrack goodness:

COVERS

First things first—and the first part of a finished book is the cover. Here are some mockups I’ve been juggling, starting with the original placeholder. They’re far from perfect, but I’m proud of what I managed with a fairly skinny graphic art skill set.

FINISHING, FORMAT, AND FINANCE*

*(OR, THE HEADACHENING)

Copyright: Technically speaking, you have the copyright to your own writing once you put it to paper or screen. But this is somehow a different thing from a legally-binding registered copyright, which everyone declares is a must-have if you want your work to be protected with more than a non-textual trust-fall exercise, hoping nobody steals your work and runs.

That said, electronic registration with the copyright office is $65, or $45 to register one work by one author.

ISBN: I only recently learned the words behind this acronym. ‘International Standard Book Number.’ It’s the ID on a book that marks it as unique and helps commercial booksellers and libraries circulate it. Each iteration of a book—paperback, digital, hardcover, new editions, et cetera—has its own ISBN. When you’re publishing on your own, you purchase ISBNs through a service called Bowker.

One book/version’s ISBN costs $125.

There are better bargains the higher the number of books and/or versions you go, starting at a bulk of 10 books for $295. But as I only have the one (1) skinny novella on the table, that’s a no-go. Which begs the question of how many ISBNs are in store for this little monster. It depends on how many formats I go with.

eBook: The quickest and most cost-efficient option across the board for any self-publication service. Short, sweet, no printing pains of trim sizes or distribution costs or formatting, oh my. Nice.

Paperback VS Hardcover: …But I am now and forever a sucker for physical media. Even though it’s a teeny brochure of a thing, I want to hold a physical copy of The Vampyres in my hands! So bad! And every service I’ve looked through has stated the obvious: Hardcover costs more than paperback. My heart won’t break if I have to stick with paperback to spare everyone’s wallets—hardcovers are pricy in both directions!—but I am a little torn. Especially as physical size might affect the price too.

Here we have two of my favorite quick reads, an anthology of Poe stories and Clive Barker’s novella, The Hellbound Heart.

The Poe book is a clothbound hardcover. 6.5 x 4.5 inches, a bit over 120 pages.

The Hellbound Heart is roughly 8 x 5 inches (about standard for a novella), at 164 pages. But unlike Poe, it looks like Barker took some liberties with the spacing and font size.

Standard size dimensions cost less than unique cuts, which means that whether paperback or hardcover, I sadly have to say goodbye to the petite palm-sized edition I was hoping for. On the upside, good news to us crap-vision readers—the font’s going to get H U G E in order to make the book more than a pamphlet with delusions of grandeur.

Audiobook: The fact is, my voice is not up to the task of reciting anything with appropriate gravitas and I think we’ve all been spoiled by @re-dracula and assorted other podcasts’ skill in orating. I don’t have the cash to hire a professional and I’m not about to accept anyone’s freebie offers. I won’t pickpocket friends for their talent. If an audio version ever comes along for any story of mine it’ll be down the road when it proves worth the format’s effort and cost.

REVIEWS (and a Foreword!)

It was the best of times (People reading the thing! Commenting on the thing! Good good good—), it was the worst of times (The Mortifying Ordeal of People Reading and Commenting on the Thing). Time for what every advice site declares a book absolutely must have the moment it’s thrust into the wild.

Reviews, reviews, reviews.

I’ve already bitten several bullets and passed copies out to a handful of fellow scribblers to scrutinize, their reviews destined to be hung up like literary gold stars on their bookselling site of choice, my own included. Now comes my preliminary grovel to readers en masse to please drop a review, a comment, a blurb of any shape or size where you can once The Vampyres drops. I’ve already gotten some early comments that have consisted mostly of screaming. Screams also count as a review.

As an aside, there are two folks in particular who I reached out to who exist in the stratosphere of Coolest People in the Vampiric Lit scene. They promptly exploded me into disbelieving giblets when they told me, yes, they’d be happy to read my little story and offer up a review and a foreword for the book respectively.

I’m not sure what the decorum here is, but for safety (and surprise’s) sake, I’ll not name names. But they are names I’ve been happy to come across for the past two years while neck deep in the undead book club. I’m infinitely grateful to both of them and am waiting on pins, needles, stakes and kukri blades by my inbox so I can pin their words up inside the book itself.

FUTURE SCRIBBLING

To get one of the biggest questions out of the way, let’s talk about Barking Harker.

My very own object lesson on sunk cost fallacy.

I wrote my way through a goddamn cinderblock of text without even grazing the finish line of the first section of the story. A story made of so many convoluted triple-decker layers of subplots and side characters that it had the structural integrity of a monolithic Nature Valley granola bar, just waiting to fall apart under its own weight. Such is the hubris and curse of too-many-words-itis. The Vampyres remains a miraculous fluke, jotted down during an overdue break from BH’s slog. Not just because I tripped and fell into finishing the story, but because it’s comparatively compact! Brevity at last!

For those still craving the assorted gothic and ghoulish promises of the initial novel idea, don’t worry, those aren’t going anywhere. I’ve just crumbled the metaphorical bloodstained granola by my own hand and have done the sane thing of parsing out the various subplots to become the foundations of their own stories. Which they really should have been from the get-go. Insert 100+ clown emojis here.

On that note, I am turning into WIPs Georg over here. Good god.

I hesitate to throw myself all-in again and make promises of X Story that may leave me spinning my mental wheels or ballooning the plot out into a behemoth that can’t be steered back on course. Even so, here’s a peek at a few ideas I currently have on the brain.

So.

Not exactly lacking for stories. It’s just a matter of seeing which of them breaks ahead of the herd and squeezes out into the publication ether first.

LAST BIT

Blah, blah, requisite reminder that I have a Ko-Fi where you can donate a buck or commission my best attempt at art, blah. Any pennies are a help.

But I’m betting very few of you came around here for my doodles. Somehow, a good amount of people tripped into this pit with me because you enjoy the rambles and horrors I’ve written over the years. Maybe some of you will even buy my book once it’s out. And you, there, on the other side of the screen—you’re reading this right now. You made it all the way to the bottom of this pile of exposition just because you wanted to. So, thank you.

Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for reading before and reading what’s to come. Thank you for giving me the confidence to even consider shouldering my own work out into the wider world.

Thank you.

P.S. If you want to re-read the preview, go here!

#this one is a Big Boy #the vampyres #my writing #my art #horror #the vampyre #dracula #barking harker #Spotify

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months ago

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Am I the asshole for 'body-shaming' a friend

I know this sounds bad but please read through the whole story.

I (20x) am part of my university pole dance society, and am on committee along with some of my friends - the relevant ones being Adam (19/20M) and Jane (21/22F) - fake names.

Background info: It is fairly standard for people to wear little clothing to pole (often dark underpants with a sports bra for those with breasts) however we expect that people attempt to stay covered to a reasonable level at all times (we understand accidental slips may happen especially while moving, but no-one is exposed for more than 10 seconds). I feel it is also relevant to note that our society is mainly female, with less than 10% male members at a university that is over half men.

The story: at practice one day Adam was wearing white boxers, which (along with him being half-hard) meant we could see his dick. This made me and Jane feel uncomfortable, so we asked him to put on some trousers for this session, and wear darker colours in future. He told us he could not as his trousers were split down the crotch - I then asked how he would get home because he takes public transport and tends to spread his legs, and I informed him some people would feel uncomfortable with that. I offered him tape to fix his temporarily, or to lend him some of my trousers for the day, but he declined, stating didn't care what other people thought of it. I backed off (he is fairly intimidating), and as he in future weeks wore darker colours, so I didn't think of it again. Until last week, where I was told by a mutual friend of ours that this comment really upset him - she stated that we needed to discuss some things, such as "when me and Jane body-shamed Adam". He had never brought this up though. Since I have been told, I have been worrying that maybe I was a bit of an asshole towards him.

Why I might be the asshole - I asked ad to change what he was wearing despite usually letting other members wear pretty much what they liked, even if it made accidental slips more likely

Why I might not be the asshole - he has his dick visible in a fairly female-dominated space, and was planning on travelling in public transport like that.

Sorry this is so long! Also any tips of either how I can defend myself if people call me/jane out or suggestions on what i should have done instead are welcome.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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pilferingapples · 6 months ago

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I was just reading the "Enjolras and his lieutenants" chapter and I noticed that Enjolras used the informal you for both Courfeyrac and Jehan, but not for Feuilly. Would you happen to know the historical/language reasons as to why that is? I thought it may be because both are students and where I'm from, students use the informal you, even if they don't know each other. But Bossuet addressed Marius with the formal you when they first met, so I'm not sure if that really is the reason for that. Does it mean that canonically, they aren't as close as Enjolras is with the others or could there be another reason for it? Also, do you know why he still only adresses them by their last names, even though he's using the informal you?

Nonny you are asking me about one of the Great Questions of the Novel: what the heck is going on with Feuilly and the t/v distinctions?

I am not going to dive into the weeds of standard t/v use,but --along with all the usual applications, in canon era and especially the kind of social circles that Hugo knew best and is setting up for the Amis, " tu" seems to have been common for young men to use together (a) with friends from childhood (b) among certain groups of Romantics , Because Romantic Friendship (c) particularly relevant here , among certain republican groups, because of the implied equality of everyone using it. Cosette will reference this use later:

And obviously all of this only makes Enjolras vous-ing Feuilly weirder!

And complicating the theorizing, Enjolras does use Tu for Feuilly later on, during his big barricade speech:

Écoute-moi, toi Feuilly, vaillant ouvrier, homme du peuple, hommes des peuples. Je te vénère.

I have no solid answer, only theories! Theory 1: Feuilly is, somehow, fairly new to the group in Lieutenants. Counterargument: then why is he already one of the Lieutenants? And in what seems to be a particularly Secret secret meeting with ONLY the Lieutenants in attendance?

Theory 2: Maybe Feuilly's much older than we generally estimate , enough to make the Tu seem less automatic? The later use of tu at the barricades seems to argue against that, but maybe that's a special " we're all fighting and about to die" level of intimacy, since Tu does seem to be in general use there? Counterargument: hugo refers to them all being Young so very, very often, and ok that seems to include Up To Maybe 35, but still. Feuilly's part of their age cohort by all other signs.

Theory 3, Not Very Satisfying but Realistic: Hugo's bein' weird. Hugo personally used Vous for almost everyone, unless they were either direct family or , to be blunt, someone he was having an affair with. He definitely used Vous in friendships most anyone else would have considered a definite Tu situation. Maybe Hugo had an idea about it that he didn't flesh out; maybe he just wrote that and didn't catch it in edits; maybe his handwriting there was just really especially awful and whoever did the Clean Copy that day * didn't transcribe it right and no one later down the line saw it as a typo. Mundane, unrelated to the narrative reasons.

Counterargument: none ,really, except it's kinda boring.:P

Theory X (silly fandom only theory) : Enjolras and Feuilly are trying to act like they are on more formal terms , for shenanigans reasons. Maybe they're working on their Cover for a Secret Mission. Maybe they're trying to hide the fact they've started dating.

As for the Last Name thing, it's just how some people , especially men, are? I don't know that it really needs more explanation, but by all means tell me if you've got a theory! Personally I've always liked " Everyone is named Jean (so they default to last names) XD

usually, but not always, Juliette Drouet

#thank you Nonny!!#sorry for the delay. my cats are VERY Helpful today #Feuilly talk #hey nonny nonny

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seaadc · 11 months ago

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hello!!! if you’re up for this, can i request any genshin men with a reader who feels like a horrible person because of things they’ve done in the past? i have a guilt complex lmaoooooo (i say lmao but it’s agony) (PEOPLE IN THE CROWD WITH A GUILT COMPLEX PUT YOUR HANDS UPPPP)

also this is a complete side note but i think this concept would be especially interesting with wrio since he’s always in the fortress or meropide, seeing people who have done wrong everyday in the fairly normal system (by jail standards) they have down there

guilt | wriothesley x reader

OH GOD THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASKS FOR A WHILE NOW IM SO SORRY MY NOTIFS ARE ALWAYS FILLED UP AND I DONT SEE ASKS ANYMOREEE T-T

angst w fluff at the end, soft!wrio, he’s comforting youu, gets a bit suggestive at the end, no pronouns used but reader is referred to as ‘my love’ and ‘princess’

it’s nothing to be concerned about really, if you were a criminal and probably rotting in the fortress of meropide for— archons knows how long, you would’ve just let your conscience be the death of you.

but you aren’t! your not sitting around and laying in the fortress of doom meropide, thank the archons.

though you can’t help but think if the seven are laughing at you, quite literally. your state isn’t so stable as it seems..

wriothesley, your partner, had called sigewinne ages ago to check on your health status. although it was all negative, the tests, the results, the examinations, all negative.

there wasn’t anything wrong with you, so why is there an aching pain in your stomach whenever your brain just relapses back to the past, the time where you had done such unforgiving sins, you couldn’t even do a whole statement word for word on what you had done to those poor victims.

one of them, someone special to you. someone special that you had lost because of your own carelessness, someone you had lost because you were being selfish, someone who you wished to cherish for a lifetime— though fate is mocking you unfortunately.

and the pain, the inkling pain deep inside that you cant ignore, it’s annoying. it’s frustrating. it’s … sad.

it’s a pity to see someone like you, a nice person who only wished to improve themselves and hope for a better future. yet it seems celestia didn’t approve.

your longtime partner, wriothesley, had been worried for you. ever since you met, you were always dozing off, not focusing, you looked uncomfortable yet he couldn’t pinpoint what was actually wrong.

it was starting to piss him off, really. the way you doze off when he talks to you, when you two spend time together and your too busy in your own little world to pay attention to him.

wriothesley had decided to sit you down, like what any partner would do when they encounter a misunderstanding or a mishap. communication is key after all.

he couldn’t ever forget the look on your face, the day where you looked at him with such pitiful eyes and regretful ones while he just stared back at you with a stern look.

he feels pity, wriothesley feels pity. someone like him shouldn’t, so what is this he feels?

“tell me what’s been bugging you for months, [name].” wriothesley takes a deep breath, then exhales as you sat there, fidgeting with your fingers. “i didnt get the chance to ask you back then, since it was your privacy after all, hm?” he spoke firmly, his voice laced with curiosity and the tone where he just wants to know the truth.

just tell him, it wouldn’t be so hard. he’s your partner after all, you have every right to tell him so. “[name], i’m doing this to help you. you’re someone extremely precious to me and i can’t help myself just seeing you look so lost.” wriothesley explains, sighing deeply as he waits for your response.

how would he react? he’s the all mighty scary wriothesley after all. he’s known to have less mercy and sympathy on others. why tell? you’ll just embarrass yourself, you thought to yourself.

but you couldn’t. you couldn’t keep a secret, especially towards him. if he was any other people, a stranger, you would’ve kept it till the end of your life. but he’s not just a stranger.

he’s your partner, your loved one, your everything. wriothesley is someone you can trust, someone you care for. is it really worth keeping a secret from him?

you took a deep breath, letting the air get past your nostrils. “i have.. committed alot of unforgettable things in the past, someone like you wouldn’t like. someone like you wouldn’t appreciate.” you confessed, looking down and avoiding your beloved’s longing stare.

wriothesley looks at you, tilting his head in confusion. you? doing things that he couldn’t possibly imagine? “ever since i’ve started to open up a new path to walk on, the guilt in my chest still pains me. it’s almost eating me whole.” you continue.

he smiles at you, not a happy smile, a faint sad smile. he’s quite joyful about how you were guilty, and not like any other person who wouldnt even feel the slightest bit of empathy to what they’ve done wrong in the past.

this is the [name] he fell inlove with. the honest, confident, firm, one. there was no denying that wriothesley was hopelessly inlove with you. and he finds it lovingly amusing.

“if you regret it, then it’s okay. you don’t have to be in debt of a thing you regret on doing. if you truly feel guilt, then it just means your improving and want to be a better person my love.” he smiles, standing up and walking over to your seat, crouching before you as you were forced to look at him.

wriothesley holds your chin, going up to caress your cheeks coated with a red flush. “it may be your fault or not, but there will always be a way to fight back the sins of the past. you can get through it, i know you can.”

“your the strong and confident lady i love after all, hm?” he says with a grin, which makes your already flustered enough face go even more red.

you smile tenderly as he continues to caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch as you hear him chuckle lowly. wriothesley stands up straight, his hand now on your head as he ruffles your soft and silky hair.

wriothesley smirks, a teasing one. which means he’s probably going to say something just to tease you and to lighten up the mood a bit. “besides, i’m the only one who’s allowed to eat you whole, princess.”

made by @seaadc and @seaadc only !!

laughinf bc i made this at exactly 1am LMFAOO (i’m mentally unstable)

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bogleech · 1 year ago

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Ok but I have seen you talk about this so many times, even referencing it in your old cartoons, so I gotta ask - when and how did you fall in love with neopets, like that?

Wait, is it that obscure now? I didn't know a single person from its inception to roughly 2010 who didn't have a neopets account. It was the single biggest gaming-esque name on the internet for years. Celebrities casually mentioned playing it, it got mainstream marketing tie-ins, it had plush toys people waited in line to buy up and a TCG made by the same company as Magic the Gathering. It's not that I especially "fell in love with neopets" like it's a niche thing but that there was a time it was almost outselling Pokemon, so it's just another huge cultural phenomenon that was a big part of everyone's lives during my teens to twenties, and hits my special interest in creature design since it has THOUSANDS (beyond the pets alone) ranging in quality from extremely creative to just plain heinous. I personally only got invested in it when they introduced the mutant pets, though, because it started out having almost like a "rule" against making any pets that were "ugly." They'd joke about it as a prank for instance, and originally only featured the mutants as part of a storyline they never intended players to actually adopt. They even had a fake alternate version of the site with fake "adoptions coming soon" and somehow didn't anticipate the userbase genuinely wanting the slime creatures.

The Chia and Aisha were my favorites but mainly the chia because that kind of "scuzzy" creature was already my own design aesthetic, polar opposite of the site's established style and reminded me of if Jeff Goldblum got fused with a tardigrade instead of a fly:

Is that just me? I feel like the tardigrade similarity jumps right out but I think it was an accident and they were possibly actually thinking of the rotting giant from Nausicaa:

The fact that they intended its design to be unlovably ugly and were surprised anyone wanted it only made it more sympathetic. Eventually they made mutants available and I got fully invested into playing, at the time having to spend hours a day on their little flash games until I could afford a mutant after months of labor. But then a couple of years later they just abruptly decided they really didn't feel like having its design around anymore and "updated" it, which back then was automatic for all pets owned by all players with no going back:

It had unfortunately been fairly common that they'd just completely, totally redo a pet like this with no warning and no user poll to make sure it's what anyone wanted. You just had to pray they never did it to your favorites.

All the other mutants in that earlier image would also get completely changed or never released at all. They still kept some of the other "gross" mutants and would make even grosser, so that wasn't even part of the reasoning. Just the random whims of mad gods I guess. I think what killed the game for a lot of people was actually when they did this to basically everyone at once, standardizing almost all the pet artwork so they could wear clothes in their new dressup system. It wasn't as drastic as replacing a sludge guy with some kind of hairy leaf guy but it did eliminate hundreds of technically unique designs from the site, and I found someone else's examples they put together so I thankfully don't have to do it myself:

If anyone's not familiar enough with neopets or didn't figure that out from the last paragraph, the ones on the right are just recolors of the same exact art as all members of their species with added accessories (now wearable items) Players used to work hard to get pets they wanted based on their unique poses and personality, but you could only keep the original art for a small number of these. The customization feature kind of attracted a different new fandom, from what people say, but it never approached a fraction the site's peak, which is probably how the brand wound up getting sold to some NFT bros who aren't even involved in the site itself and supposedly never even spoken to its remaining staff outside some business emails? This is unrelated to the brief period it was bought by scientologists and the siterunners had to fight back against their propaganda leaking into it. I really didn't expect to turn this response into a mini article, I should really just make a thing on bogleech.com about it sometime. Some of my tumblr mutuals to this day are people I met through the neopets fandom and probably have equally lengthy memories/complaints.

#neopets #pokemon #scientology #nft's

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yamayuandadu · 1 year ago

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“Roaming into immortality”: Ten Desires and the history of Taoist immortals

As promised last month, following the freshly established tradition I have another Touhou research post to offer. This time, we’ll be looking into the literary traditions focused on Taoist immortals (or, following the Touhou convention, “hermits”, though this is a less suitable translation) and how they influenced Ten Desires. Due to space constraints and thematic coherence, note that only Seiga, Miko and Yoshika will be covered. Before you'll begin, I need to stress that one of the sections requires a content warning. While all images are safe for viewing, there's a description of a potentially unpleasant episode involving unwanted advances, and various events leading to that; I highlighted that before the relevant paragraphs too just in case.

“Hermit”, “immortal”, “transcendent” A post about Ten Desires must start with an introduction of the term sen, the Japanese reading of 仙, Chinese xian. Touhou specifically uses its less common derivative 仙人, sennin, though that's just a synonym. Touhou-related sources basically invariably translate this term as “hermit”. While this option can be found elsewhere too, it is not exactly optimal. “Immortal” is actually the standard translation for both sen/xian and sennin, as far as I am aware. I did a quick survey of recent publications on Brill’s and De Gruyter’s sites and the results were fairly unambiguous, especially for books and articles published after 2000, with “hermit”, “wizard” and other alternatives being quite uncommon. The trend is not new, with sennin already translated as “immortal” in the 1960s. When it comes to xian/sen, in a few cases arguments were made that “transcendent” or “ascendent” would be a more suitable option as it better illustrates the position of these beings, though this is a relatively recent trend, for now limited to Sinology. The idea behind it is that immortality is just one of multiple characteristics attributed to the xian, and it is ultimately the transcendence to a higher level of existence that’s the key element. I personally think the argument is sound, but not all translators have embraced it, and for now the choice is really a matter of preference. Since “immortal” is more widespread, and most of the sources in the bibliography use it, that’s what I will employ in the rest of the article, save for direct quotes from Touhou, where "hermit" will be used.

Early history of immortality in Chinese sources

Feathered immortals worshiping Xi Wangmu (from Betwixt and Between: Depictions of Immortals in Eastern Han Dynasty Tomb Reliefs by Leslie Wallace; reproduced here for educational purposes only) The notion of pursuit of immortality, or at least longevity, is first attested in Chinese sources in the eighth century BCE, when the first bronze inscriptions revealing their authors wished to avoid death altogether appear in the archaeological record. However, the ideas which directly lead to the development of the concept of immortals as discussed here only started to develop in the fourth BCE. Initially they were associated with so-called fangshi, a class of multi-purpose esoteric specialists who often served for example as court diviners. These ideas developed before the unification of China by Qin Shi Huang, but their importance grew after this event, as many of their proponents were warmly received in the courts of Qin and Han emperors. Some of them, like Wu of Han, even sent expeditions in search of distant lands where immortals purportedly lived, of which Penglai is the most famous. As a curiosity it’s worth mentioning here that the reception of these pursuits was actually mixed in Chinese historiography. Some of the rationalist Eastern Han authors such as Wang Chong evaluated it critically, basically describing it as a waste of time and resources leading to poor governance. We know relatively little about the development of beliefs focused on immortality outside of the imperial court in the Han period, though it is evident that they gained considerable prominence, and it’s even possible to speak of “immortality cults” among the general populace. That’s for example seemingly how the worship of Xi Wangmu, arguably one of the most famous Chinese deities, became widespread. Tomb paintings showing blissful immortals also appear in this period. In art immortals were initially depicted as winged, feathered beings. The origin of this tradition remains unclear, though it has been noted that various similar bird-like beings are also listed in the Classic of Mountains and Seas, attesting to this being a widespread motif in early Chinese tradition. You might be familiar with portraying immortals as wizened sages instead. This convention only developed when the image of the immortal merged with that of the ascetic hermit in the Eastern Jin period - more on that later.

Immortals in Ge Hong’s Baopuzi

A 20th century illustration of Ge Hong (wikimedia commons)

The first formalized instructions for the pursuit of immortality were compiled during the reign of the Eastern Han. Some of them were rooted in the early Taoist tradition, which at the time was also being partially formalized under the Way of the Celestial Masters. Seemingly many Taoist works dealing with these matters were compiled, but most of them are only known from references in Ge Hong’s Baopuzi, one of the most important texts for the study of the history of ideas about immortality. Ge Hong states that immortality can be obtained through personal virtue and specific practices, including exercise, following strict dietary restrictions and, most importantly, through engaging in alchemy, which he hails as the most effective. All the means to obtaining immortality were unified by one principle: cultivating qi, both by maintaining one’s own and by absorbing it from the right kinds of plants and minerals. Grains were held to be inappropriate food for those pursuing immortality, as it was believed they nourished the so-called “three worms”. The final goal was to be able to use morning dew or light for sustenance. The easiest way to move towards that goal was believed to be consumption of alchemical elixirs, said to possess a more potent, refined form of qi of all their carefully selected ingredients. Needless to say, many of such magical concoctions were highly poisonous thanks to the inclusion of mercury, cinnabar and other similarly exciting substances. Ten Desires describes the consequences pretty accurately: Miko “turned to the use of various unusual materials, such as cinnabar” which “ruined her body”; as a result she “destroyed her health because of the very Taoism that was meant to grant her immortality”. Such a fate is not historically unparalleled, and there is even a strong case to be made that the notoriously erratic behavior of some of the particularly immortality-obsessed emperors was the result of alchemically induced heavy metal poisoning. Cinnabar cocktails aside, a further important piece of information from Baopuzi is the reference to three classes of immortals, celestial (天仙), earthbound (地仙) and corpse-liberated (尸解仙). What separated these three groups was the degree to which they perfected their state before formally attaining the rank of immortal. The most refined were basically invited into heaven, with the best of the best taken there on the back of a dragon. Those who despite their efforts lacked something had to put in some additional effort themselves instead. While the "celestial" and "earthbound" immortals are largely self-explanatory (we'll go back to them later, though), the label of “corpse-liberated” warrants a more detailed explanation. It refers to those who settled for faking own death. This act is called shijie (尸解), and involves substituting the body for an object, which is to be buried as if it was a person. Of course, immortality obtained this way was effectively second rate, though it was not impossible to become a proper celestial immortal later on. As you can probably notice, this is precisely the path to immortality ZUN has chosen for characters in Ten Desires. The term shikaisen used multiple times in the game is in fact simply the Japanese reading of 尸解仙.

Immortals in secular literature

Four Immortals Saluting Longevity by Shang Xi (wikimedia commons)

The importance of the search for immortality grew during the Six Dynasties period. Seemingly in all strata of society a common reaction to frequent political turmoil was to seek solutions in Taoism and still relatively new Buddhism. This in turn left a huge impact on Chinese culture of this era as a whole. What is of particular relevance for this article is less the straightforward religious dimension of immortality, and more its reflection in literature. Works about immortals were already being written in the Western Han period, with the oldest surviving example being Liexian Zhuan (列仙傳) attributed to Liu Xiang, who lived in the first century BCE. Their importance only grew with time due to the aforementioned process, and they became a well established part of both poetry and prose. For example, a sixth century treatise on literary genres, Xiao Tong’s Selections of Refined Literature (文選; Wenxuan), pretty much the main source to fall back on in the study of pre-Tang literature, recognizes youxian (遊仙), literally “roaming into immortality”, as a distinct type of lyrical poetry. There’s a considerably degree of nuance to this term, since 遊 has the implications of leisurely, playful activity, but these lexical considerations are beyond the scope of this article. While in some cases the tales of immortals focused on figures primarily known for other reasons, like the Yellow Emperor, Chang'e or Laozi, many document the lives of historical pursuers of immortality instead. Well attested fangshi and Taoist masters appear in such a context, for instance Anqi Sheng or Liu An (according to a legend he ascended to heaven with his entire household, including dogs and other animals). The literary biographies, or rather hagiographies, of immortals often highlighted their personal eccentricities, tied to their detachment from society. The archetypal eccentric immortals are obviously the members of the group popularly known as the Eight Immortals, though this is a much later development, and the genre conventions formed centuries earlier. Literature about immortals is interesting from a modern perspective because at least in part it was arguably a secular pursuit. As secular as something could be prior to the rise of the modern notion of secularism, that is (see Mark Teeuwen’s article on Edo period secularism for some arguments against seeing secularism as an entirely modern phenomenon). This is not merely the modern perception, for clarity - the earliest statements to that effect can be found in works of literary criticism from the second century or so. The writers were chiefly scholars, courtiers and officials, not clergy, and naturally their works are not recognized as “canonical” Taoist literature. Some of these authors took the topic of immortals into rather peculiar directions. According to Xiaofei Kang, during the Six Dynasties period amorous encounters with female immortals (仙女, xiannü) were a “fashionable topic among literati”, while in the subsequent Tang period some authors compared courtesans they sometimes were actually involved with to immortals metaphorically. She notes that they effectively created a genre of works focused on immortals which was no longer really describing the pursuit of immortality, but rather “encounters with enchanting beauties, both real and imagined”.

Needless to say, the literature about immortals remained relevant in later periods, and new stories continued to be written under the reign of subsequent dynasties. Many can be found in Pu Songling’s famous Liaozhai (Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio). This collection was written in the Qing period and remains in wide circulation today as a literary classic.

Pu Songling’s tale of Qing’e: the origin of Seiga

Pu Songling (wikimedia commons)

It is beyond the scope of this article to discuss all of Pu Songling’s tales about immortals, but there is one which necessitates further discussion, namely Qing’e, which is very obviously the basis for Seiga’s character. This makes her somewhat unusual among Touhou characters - while the story she is based on deals with religious themes, and fiction can shape religious views at times (as evidenced by the popularity of Sun Wukong or the image of hell in Divine Comedy), I found no indication Qing’e was ever views as anything but a literary character. Like the rest of Liaozhai, the Qing’e tale has been translated into English in the 2000s. Songling’s works have an older and more famous translation too, but it’s just a selection, and it has many issues, which you can read about here. You can read parts of the more modern translation on Google Books. Obviously it can also be found easily in other places. I will also summarize the story of Qing’e below for convenience. This is where the content warning I mentioned applies: the story is not very explicit, but there are is a scene of what I think counts as attempted sexual assault and other generally unsavory moments of that sort, so if that bothers you, skip ahead to the next section. The beginning of the story introduces a certain Huo Huan (霍桓) from Shanxi, a sheltered young man of unspecified age (he’s older than 13 but “ignorant of adult desire”, which is pretty vague). He lives in the same neighborhood as the eponymous Qing’e (青娥), a teenage daughter of a certain mr. Wu (武), who was apparently a devout Taoist. Qing’e secretly read through her father’s personal collection, developing an admiration for He Xiangu in the process. When mr. Wu left for the mountains to become an immortal, his daughter declared she will never marry. Her decision is presumably meant to mirror one of the versions of the tale of He Xiangnu, who reportedly attained immortality by remaining celibate and consuming mineral powders (granted, you can also find versions where her immortal career started when she was seduced by Lü Dongbin, but that does not match the story here).

He Xiangnu by Zhang Lu (wikimedia commons)

Huan sees Qing’e outside at some point and, without really talking to her, decides she has to marry her and asks his mother to send someone to arrange that. she doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but eventually caves in. Lo and behold, it doesn’t work and the Wu family is not interested in the proposal. Huan then meets an unrelated Taoist, who offers him a magical tiny spade (one chi long) used to dig up Taoist-preferred herbs (a key component of the immortality keto diet), which can quite literally hack through stone. This convenient deus ex machina gives Huo the idea to hack through the walls of the Wu residence to see Qing’e. Note that the narrator does not approve of this plan, and calls it an “illegal act”. Alas, it comes to pass anyway, With this newfound power Huan watches Qing’e undress before she goes to bed and then listens to her breathing while she is asleep, as one does with women they saw exactly once before. Eventually he falls asleep himself on her bed. Needless to say, when Qing’e wakes up she is less than thrilled and summons her servants. They assume Huan is a thief, but he tries to explain himself. He’s set free, but the magical tool is confiscated. Since Huan does not know when to quit, he arranges for a second round of matchmaking afterwards. While apparently Qing’e is cautiously optimistic about it this time, her mother is less than thrilled after learning there are now holes in their residence’s walls. She insults the matchmakers, Huan and Huan’s mother. This in turn makes Huan’s mother angry. She apparently concludes that Huan and Qing’e had sex, and declares that instead of damaging her good name someone should’ve just killed them both on the spot. Qing’e is genuinely sad about this and sends a messenger to smooth things over. However, ultimately nothing really comes out of it. Some time later, Huan starts a career as a helper of his town’s magistrate, Ou. The latter is surprised to learn he is not married yet, and after hearing about his unsuccessful endeavors intervenes himself. With the help of other local officials he secures the permission of Qing’e’s mother, and the marriage is officially arranged. A year later, Qing’e arrived at Huan's home. She brings the magical tool with her, and declares that it is no longer needed. However, Huan decides to carry it with him as a good luck charm, pointing out acquiring it was what led to their marriage. Some time later newlyweds have a son, Mengxian, but Qing’e is not interested in raising him and entrusts that entirely to a nurse. After some more time, in the eighth year of their marriage, she announces to Huan that their time together is coming to a close, and there is nothing to be done about this. Shortly after that, she seemingly dies, and Huan and his mother bury her - or so they think, at least. In the aftermath of this event Huan’s mother falls sick, and inexplicably develops a craving for fish soup, which is hard to obtain in the area the story takes place according to the narrator. Huan, as a staunch believer in filial piety, decides to embark on a journey to procure some. He is initially unsuccessful, but he manages to get some from Wang, an old man he encountered in the mountains. The latter also offers to introduce him to a beautiful woman, but Huan is focused on the quest for fish soup and declines.

Contemporary Chinese fish soup (wikimedia commons)

With the power of fish soup Huan’s mother’s health is restored, and when it becomes clear she’s going to be fine he decides to seek Wang again. He does not find him, but after a long trek in the mountains he instead stumbles upon an unusual cave. Unusual because there’s a house inside it. a house which, as it turns out, is inhabited by Qing’e. Qing’e is surprised to see Huan. She explains that she faked her death and in reality a bamboo cane was buried in her place. She concludes that if Huan found her, they are presumably fated to be together as immortals. He is then taken to her father, who as established earlier also became an immortal. The initial reception is positive, but Huan makes a scene demanding that Qing’e have sex with him and keeps clutching her arm when she declines. Qinge’s father intervenes, and kicks him out for attempted sacrilege in his hermitage. Alas, Huan can’t get a clue as already established. He cannot see the house anymore because due to a trick there’s only a cliff in front of him after the doors close, but that’s not really enough to stop him, as he suddenly remembers he has the magical tool with him. He starts digging, and despite insults hurled at him from behind the rocks eventually makes a sizable hole in the cliff. At this point someone, presumably Qing’e’s father, gets fed up, and throws Qing’e out through the hole to get him to leave. Qing’e, to put it lightly, is not very keen on this turn of events. She nonetheless returns with Huan to his house. Shortly after that they moved elsewhere, to Yidu, where they lived for eighteen years. Qing’e at some point gave birth to a second child, a nameless daughter, who doesn’t really factor into the story. All we hear about her is that she married into a local family. Eventually Hano’s mother dies. Qing’e picks an auspicious location for her resting place, and tasks Huan and Mengxian with preparing the burial. A month later, she and Huan disappear, leaving the new adult Mengxian alone. In the final scene of the story, Megxian, who apparently spent the first twenty or so years of his adult life unsuccessfully attempting to pass the imperial examination, meets a certain Zhongxian, and is amazed to learn they bear the same surname. The two quickly realize they’re brothers, and decide to meet with their parents, but they fail to accomplish that since they left Zhongxian’s house in the meanwhile. The narrator comments that while Huan’s actions were “foolish” and “crazy”, everything he had striven for was granted to him as a reward for his filial piety, and then marvels why nobody stopped him and Qing’e from having more inevitably abandoned children. “That’s really strange,” he remarks.

Seiga’s character between ZUN’s innovations and Taoist tradition

Seiga explaining the powers of a hermit; if only there was a term which makes this explanation even more straightforward... (WaHH chapter 12.1)

As you’ve probably noticed, Seiga’s bio in the Ten Desires omake is remarkably faithful to the adapted source. Even her name is just a Japanese reading of the combination of Qing’e’s given name with the family name of her husband. It does not seem that everything unfolded identically in Touhou, though. There is no indication in the bio, or anywhere else for that matter, that Seiga went back after faking her death, and we instead learn that she decided to travel to Japan, since Taoist “hermits” were uncommon there. Additionally, Seiga presumably kept the confiscated chisel, since her ability, which she eagerly demonstrates in Wild and Horned Hermit, is rather obviously a direct reference to the tale of Qing’e. I will admit that while I do not question Pu Songling’s talent and enjoyed many of his tales, I think ZUN’s version is more satisfying than the original, perhaps because from a modern perspective Qing’e is arguably a more compelling protagonist than her husband, and Touhou effectively treats her as the main character in this story. Something that I believe is relatively well known is that Seiga’s entire character is a bit of an anachronism: to encounter Miko, she would need to be alive through the end of the Six Dynasties period already. However, since ZUN adapted much of the tale of Qing’e directly, like her forerunner she idolizes He Xiangnu, who according to legends about her was only born in the Tang period, and attained the status of an immortal in the early eighth century, during the reign of emperor Zhongzong - nearly a century after Miko’s semi-historical counterpart passed away. I do not think this mistake is meaningful. Save for the references to He Xiangnu and imperial examinations, the tale of Qing’e is set in a largely timeless world. I would presume it’s just a small mistake on ZUN’s part, and he didn’t check the chronology while summarizing the part of the story he wanted to use in Seiga’s bio. There is no need to ponder if Seiga’s power lets her travel in time, as the wiki (which, as we all know, prides itself in maintaining “neutrality” and enforcing correct exegesis of the source material, especially Hisami’s bio) does.

There is a further aspect of Seiga’s character which might evoke works about immortals, though I am not sure if this was intentional. As we learn from her entry in Symposium of Post-Mysticism, she “cannot become a celestial due to her personality, but that does not seem to bother her”. The term dixian which I already brought up before designated immortals who were not interested in ascension to heaven. According to Ge Hong, there were actually many benefits to such a fate, and while nominally a dixian ranked below a tianxian (in Touhou terms, a celestial), they had much more freedom. He states that the archetypal immortal Peng Zu, who spent over 800 years on earth, did so because the upper echelons of the heavenly hierarchy are occupied by well established deities, and any immortal joining their ranks would be burdened with tiresome tasks and obliged to act as servants, making their life less enjoyable than it would be on earth.

Peng Zu (wikimedia commons)

Poetry describing the earthbound immortals originally developed in the third and fourth centuries. Parallels can be drawn between their protagonists who reject the celestial bureaucracy with a different class of literary characters popular at the same period - non-conformist recluses who did not care about the mundane, earthly administration. The dixian is essentially a merge between the classical supernatural immortal and the archetypal hermit. This sort of immortality was a metaphor for unrestrained freedom first and foremost. I will stress again that I have doubts about whether ZUN was aware of this when he came up with Seiga, but it certainly does fit her well. Also, more recently, in Who’s Who of Humans and Yokai in Gensokyo he actually says that “she may be the most hermit-ish character here”. I’d hazard that even if he was not aware of this idea before, he probably is now, in some capacity at least. It’s not like Seiga’s status as a “wicked hermit” was ever tied to lack of interest in heaven, as opposed to necromancy, so this does not contradict anything established.

Reception of Chinese tales about immortals in Japan Obviously, ZUN is not the first person in Japan to adapt literature about immortals.Something that needs to be stressed before delving deeper into the topic is that transfer of beliefs, and especially tales, pertaining to immortals to Japan did not constitute the spread of Taoism as an organized religion. It is instead simply an aspect of the widespread adoption of elements of Chinese culture. While Taoist ideas were an aspect of this phenomenon, we know relatively little about how they were transmitted to Japan, though there was clearly no effort to introduce the religion itself in a formal manner the way Buddhism was. This topic ultimately can’t be explored here in detail due to space constraints. but most likely what occurred was gradual introduction of certain elements in informal contexts: through art, Buddhist borrowings or poorly documented individual ventures. The earliest recorded example of reception of motifs related to immortals in Japan is likely the tale of Tajimamori from the Nihon Shoki, which involves a quest for items granting immortality. The much better known tale of Urashima Taro, also preserved in this source, is another candidate, and as a matter of fact was recognized as an example of literature about immortals in the Heian period already.

Ōe no Masafusa (wikimedia commons)

However, our main source of the early Japanese perception of immortals are not the early “national chronicles”, but rather Honchō Shinsenden (本朝神仙伝). Its author was Ōe no Masafusa (1041-1111), an official and scholar from the Heian period. His career culminated when he was appointed to the prestigious position of the governor of Kyushu, though he eventually abdicated to dedicate himself to writing. His work is classified as an example of setsuwa. At the same time it is also firmly tied to the already discussed tradition of Chinese secular immortal literature, and can effectively be considered an attempt at creating a Japanese equivalent of collections of biographies of immortals. Obviously it has its own unique peculiarities to offer too. Masafusa’s work presents an interesting case of fusion of the Taoist-influenced Chinese notion of immortality with Buddhist ideas: the immortals are compared to hijiri (Buddhist “holy men”) and “living Buddhas” (ikibotoke). This is not entirely a novelty, as while Buddhists are absent from Chinese compilations of biographies of immortals, Laozi’s ascent to immortality was nonetheless at times described in similar terms as Buddhist Nirvana, at least in sources from the fifth century. There was also a preexisting Buddhist tradition of legendary long-lived patriarchs awaiting the coming of Maitreya or simply extending their lifespans to save more beings. Therefore, while innovative, this combination of Taoist and Buddhist elements was hardly something unparalleled or contradictory. The selection of figures described as immortals in Honchō Shinsenden is also a bit different than in its Chinese forerunners. Legendary heroes and historical statesmen do show up, as expected. However, alchemists and members of Taoist clergy are missing, since they were not exactly common in Japan. Buddhist monks effectively replace them as the main social group among immortals, though it does not seem religious devotion is the deciding factor. Ultimately there is no clear pattern, not even that of virtuous life: Masafusa’s immortals as a group are not meant to be moral examples, even though some of them are portrayed as paragons of virtue. It seems ultimately what Masafusa wanted to do is present stories he personally found interesting or awe-inspiring, and there was no religious aim behind his work. Some of his choices were actually criticized as inappropriate by his contemporaries, in particular the inclusions of Zenchū and Zensan, who according to polemics were not immortals, but merely devout Buddhists taken into a Pure Land (a heavenly realm created by and inhabited by a Buddha) in their current forms, without reincarnation. This argument follows the well established aspect of esoteric Buddhist doctrine, which enabled the possibility of achieving enlightenment in one’s current incarnation. A total of thirty seven tales formed the original manuscript, though not all of them survive. They range from long, grandiose narratives about figures like Yamato Takeru and En no Gyoja to brief, almost comedic accounts of the tribulations of anonymous figures such as the “stick-beaten immortal” (who learned how to levitate, but only up to the height of one shaku, which meant that he could not even escape children hitting him with sticks) or the “old seller of white chopsticks” (whose title tells you a lot about his economic situation). Only two are ultimately important here, though: those of the semi-historical prince Shotoku, and the firmly historical poet, historian and eccentric Miyako no Yoshika. Simply put, I believe Honchō Shinsenden is responsible both for the portrayal of Shotoku as a Taoist immortal and for the inclusion of a character (vaguely) based on Miyako no Yoshika in Ten Desires.

Honchō Shinsenden’s Shotoku and Toyosatomimi no Miko

The image of prince Shotoku through the ages

Prince Shotoku (聖徳太子) is one of the highest profile figures to ever be portrayed in Touhou, and as such arguably requires no lengthy introduction. He purportedly lived from February 7, 574 to April 8, 622, and served as a regent on behalf of his aunt, empress Suiko. He is traditionally credited with spreading Buddhism in Japan, ordaining numerous monks, writing commentaries on sutras, vanquishing rivals such as Mononobe no Moriya with the help of the Soga clan, and so on. He might have not existed at all, or perhaps he did, but played nowhere near as major of a role in Japanese history as traditionally assumed. The academic debate started a few decades ago, and remains ongoing. Its outcome isn’t really important here, since regardless of Shotoku’s disputed historicity, he came to be well established both as a religious figure and as a literary character. At various points in time and for various people, Shotoku was, in no particular order, the ideal statesman, a manifestation of Kannon, a peerless military commander, a yaoi protagonist and, most importantly, an immortal. In Honchō Shinsenden, Shotoku is referred to as “prince Jōgu” (上宮), though we do get the mandatory Shotoku namedrop indirectly when his virtue (聖徳) is highlighted.. He is actually one of the two only of the listed immortals who can be classified at least vaguely as “statesmen”, the other being Yamato Takeru. For unknown reasons, Masafusa got some details wrong: according to him Shotoku’s father was Bidatsu. This view is unparalleled, and there is no real reason to doubt the conventional genealogy, which firmly positions him as a son of Yomei and his half-sister Anahobe no Hashihito. We learn that his birth was foretold by a dream in which his mother saw a golden figure who entrusted her with a child who will spread the dharma. This is in itself a combination of Taoist and Buddhist elements, seemingly an attempt at imitating a legend about the birth of Laozi, which in turn depended on a legend about the birth of the historical Buddha. Naturally, Shotoku already displayed supernatural abilities as a child. Masafusa reports that whoever touched him was imbued with a “lasting fragrance”. A variant of the well known tale which his Touhou counterpart’s name and ability reference is presented here too, though a key detail differs - Shotoku can listen to eight, rather than ten, people according to Masafusa. This is not unparalleled, and therefore probably isn’t a mistake unlike the unexpected genealogical change mentioned before. A major event from Shotoku’s life relayed by Honchō Shinsenden is an alleged meeting between him and Illa (Nichira), a Korean monk living in Japan. The historicity of this episode is debatable, as Illa died when Shotoku (if he was real in the first place, of course) was only eleven years old. He identifies the prince as the bodhisattva Kannon, and pays respect to him as such. In response Shotoku emitted a beam of light from between his eyebrows, which reflects both Taoist and Buddhist traditions about manifesting supernatural powers.

Illa's alter ego Atago Gongen (wikimedia commons)

Interestingly, Illa responds by doing the same, thus revealing his own supernatural character. We know from other sources that Illa could be identified as the true identity of Atago Gongen, the tengu-like deity of Mount Atago. Bernard Faure notes parallels can be drawn between his portrayals as a foreign supernatural ally of Shotoku and as the human alter ego of a deity with the traditions pertaining to Hata no Kawakatsu. There is also an “immortal of Mount Atago” in Honchō Shinsenden, but his identity is left unspecified. It's worth noting that in Symposium of Post-Mysticism Byakuren and Marisa at one point discuss the existence of “hermit-like tengu”. Illa truthers… we can make it happen if we believe strong enough… Jokes aside, I’m actually cautiously optimistic that Illa might some day end up being the first Korean character in Touhou, at least implicitly. Given the inclusion of references to Hata no Kawakatsu, odds are decent ZUN knows about him too.

In another anecdote, we are introduced to another member of Shotoku’s supernatural supporting cast, the black steed of Kai. This horse is credited with being able to travel the distance of a thousand ri in a single move. This is seemingly an adaptation of a Taoist motif too, as immortals were believed to favor traveling on supernaturally fast steeds, or in cloud chariots drawn by such animals, or to move instantaneously through other means. The fabulous distance of 1000 (or even 10000) ri is conventional, too.

Shotoku traveling through the sky on his supernatural horse (Smithsonian Institution; reproduced here for educational purposes only)

Of course, the black steed (kurokoma) is also the very same horse that served as the basis for Saki. While allusions to this connection is probably the second most common genre of fanart of her, it surprisingly took ZUN four whole years to acknowledge it outside of a track title, specifically through two lines in the vs mode of Unlimited Dream of All Living Ghost. Time will tell if anything will come out of it, I’m personally skeptical seeing as we have yet to see a canon work do anything with the connection between Okina and Hata no Kawakatsu even though it was acknowledged in an interview. I hope I am wrong, though.

Shotoku’s various accomplishments are not described in detail, though Masafusa does bring up his famous seventeen articles constitution and the establishment of Shitenno-ji, and additionally states that teachings linked to the Yuezhi people from Central Asia were associated with it (unique opportunity to justify bringing Central Asian deities like Nana and Weshparkar into Touhou). The final and most important part of Shotoku’s biography, the circumstances of his death - or rather his acquisition of immortality - is only partially preserved. According to Masafusa, one day he simply informed his wife (presumably Kawashide no Iratsume, as opposed to one of the other three wives) that he cannot exist anymore in a “defiled” world and “transformed” himself. It is actually not explained how he even mastered the techniques allowing that, presumably because we are meant to attribute this miraculous feat to his status as a saintly Buddhist. The authors behind the most recent English translation, Christoph Kleine and Livia Kohn, suggest that in the lost final sentence(s) Masafusa might have combined the Taoist take on immortality with Amida’s pure land, but this is ultimately speculative. ZUN actually went for something closer to the Chinese model with Miko - she was explicitly taught by Seiga. The notion of immortals mentoring those they deem worthy to pursue the same path is a widespread motif, and even some of the Eight Immortals gained their status this way. This idea is absent altogether from Honchō Shinsenden, perhaps since it was tied to formal transfer of Taoist teachings. While this is an innovation, I would argue it’s still true to Shotoku legends, considering they are already filled with miracle-working visitors from distant lands, from Illa and Hata no Kawakatsu to considerably more famous Bodhidharma.

From eccentric to immortal: the literary afterlife of Miyako no Yoshika

Miyako no Yoshika (wikimedia commons)

As I already said, the second tale from Honchō Shinsenden relevant to Ten Desires is that focused on Miyako no Yoshika. He obviously shares no direct connection with prince Shotoku. Or with Qing’e, for that matter. Unlike prince Shotoku, he left a solid paper trail behind, and there’s no doubt that despite having quite a career as a legendary figure, he was originally a historical person. He lived from 834 to 879, in the Heian period. He was a calligrapher, a poet, an imperial official and for a brief time even an assistant to the envoy to Bohai (Balhae). The inclusion of a character based on him in Ten Desires might seem puzzling at first glance, since none of this seems particularly relevant to the game, and Yoshika’s omake bio doesn’t say much that helps here, beyond calling her a “corpse from ancient Japan”. However, I believe Honchō Shinsenden sheds some light on this mystery. In Honchō Shinsenden, Miyako no Yoshika belongs to the small category of literati pursuing immortality, a status he only shares with Tachibana no Masamichi. There are a number of other immortals listed who are neither monks nor statesmen, and can be broadly classified as laypeople, though none of them seem to have much to do with those two. In contrast with figures like prince Shotoku, described as pious sages, the fictionalized take on Yoshika is meant to highlight extreme eccentricity instead. This is an element common in accounts of Chinese immortals’ lives too, as I highlighted before. You might also remember this topic from the Zanmu article from last month. As we learn, Yoshika, who was originally known as Kuwahara (misread by Masafusa as Haraaka, an actually unattested surname) no Kotomichi but changed first his family name (for unknown reasons) and then also his given name because of a poem he liked, decided to become an immortal under rather unusual circumstances. In the very beginning of his career, after spending a night with the concubine of an official from the Bureau of Examination who was meant to examine him the next day, Yoshika decided that his goal in life should be to become an “eccentric immortal”. He passed his official exam without any trouble, with an unparalleled score. Graffiti in the academy he attended proclaimed him the “world’s greatest maniac” (so he comes prepackaged with a Touhou-appropriate title). He attained widespread acclaim for his wit and poetic skill. In his free time, he engages in celebrated literati pastimes such as drinking and sleeping with courtesans (Masafusa does not specify if he wrote about that, like his Tang counterparts did).

Sugawara no Michizane, Yoshika's apparent nemesis (wikimedia commons)

Alas, Yoshika’s career ultimately did not go entirely according to his whims. The beginning of the end was the day when he acted as the examiner of a new rising star, Sugawa no Michizane. The latter has proven himself to be even more skilled than him, and eventually rose to a higher rank than Yoshika. The latter could not bear this perceived offense against him and one day left his life behind to return to the pursuit of immortality. He aimed at the mountains, hoping to find immortals there to learn their techniques. Masafusa does not provide much detail about his further life, but states that after many journeys he evidently accomplished his goal, as he was purportedly seen alive and well a century after his alleged death.

It’s worth pointing out here that this course of events follows a Taoist motif: becoming disillusioned with one's own career, or with earthly affairs in general, is a common catalyst for search of the Taoist way in literature. A point can actually be made that of all the immortals in the Honchō Shinsenden is the most quintessentially Taoist one (despite not actually being a Taoist), the most direct example of the Chinese model being adapted for a Japanese historical figure, with no addition of the Buddhist components. He even resembles the typical image of a Tang scholar-bureaucrat invested in search for immortality just as much as in amorous adventures. This arguably makes him the perfect basis for a character in a game centered on Taoist immortals in Japan, though truth to be told I feel that in contrast with Seiga and Miko, ZUN’s Yoshika does not live up to her forerunner.

Legends about Miyako no Yoshika in other sources, or the remarkable poetic career of Ibaraki-doji

The oni of Rashomon and Miyako no Yoshika, as depicted by Ginko Adachi (Yokohama Art Museum; reproduced here for educational purposes only)

Some of you might wonder where Ibaraki-doji fits into this, considering the pretty direct reference to Yoshika's poetry in Wild and Horned Hermit. Masafusa, as a matter of fact, does allude to one more legend while highlighting Yoshika’s poetic talent, though he doesn’t go into detail. There’s no direct supernatural encounter - a nameless demonic inhabitant of Kyoto’s gate only hears a poem from passersby marveling at it and becomes “deeply moved”, but that’s it. The name Ibaraki-doji doesn’t show up at all, and there’s no mention of the oni finishing the poem, which is a mainstay of later versions. Another of Masafusa’s works, Gōdansho (江談抄), also doesn’t use the name Ibaraki-dōji, or mention an actual encounter between Yoshika and the oni - he merely hears an unnamed passerby hum the poem and comments on it, calling it touching. However, the Kamakura period collection Jikkinshō already presents the version which gained the most traction in the long run, with the poem being a collaboration between Miyako no Yoshika and an oni. He later recites the full composition to Sugawara no Michizane, who is correctly able to point out only some of it is Yoshika’s own work, while the rest was added by an oni. However, once again, the name Ibaraki-doji is nowhere to be found. On the other hand, while the story of Ibaraki-doji can be found in Taiheiki and other similar sources, it takes place far away from the capital in these early versions. The location was changed in noh adaptations of the legend to Rashomon, presumably due to its preexisting associations with supernatural creatures. By the time Toriyama Sekien published one if his famous bestiaries, Konjaku Hyakki Shūi, it seems the idea that the oni inhabiting this gate who was encountered by Yoshika and Watanabe no Tsuna’s nemesis Ibaraki-doji, who fought him there, were one and the same was already well established. Note that Sekien’s description of the oni of Rashomon actually doesn’t use the name Ibaraki-doji, though we do know he was aware of it. It’s worth noting that the oni of Rashomon seemingly had a broader interest in fine arts, since there is also a legend in which he meets the famous biwa player Minamoto no Hiromasa and shows him his own skills with this instrument. However, this is ultimately not directly relevant to Yoshika, so you will have to wait until the next article, which will cover Shuten-doji and Ibaraki-doji in detail, to learn more.

The oni of Rashomon, as depicted by Toriyama Sekien (wikimedia commons) Bibliography

Bernard Faure, From Bodhidharma to Daruma : The Hidden Life of a Zen Patriarch

Xiaofei Kang, The Cult of the Fox: Power, Gender, and Popular Religion in Late Imperial and Modern China

Zornica Kirkova, Roaming into the Beyond: Representations of Xian Immortality in Early Medieval Chinese Verse

Christoph Kleine & Livia Kohn, Daoist Immortality and Buddhist Holiness: A Study and Translation of the Honchō shinsen-den

Michelle Osterfeld Li, Ambiguous Bodies. Reading the Grotesque in Japanese Setsuwa Tales

Masato Mori, "Konjaku Monogatari-shū": Supernatural Creatures and Order

Masuo Shin'ichirō, Daoism in Japan (published in Brill’s Daoism Handbook)

Leslie Wallace, Betwixt and Between: Depictions of Immortals in Eastern Han Dynasty Tomb Reliefs

#touhou #seiga kaku #toyosatomimi no miko #yoshika miyako

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bonzos-number-1-fan · 3 months ago

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TMAGP 30 Thoughts: Concrete Evidence

Our finale is upon us. Albeit more of a slightly extended episode than it is double-length. It's more like 10 minutes longer than a standard episode and while I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing I do think it sort of sucks to set expectations and then not deliver on it. Especially when it was a Kickstarter stretch goal. I worry the epilogue is going to feel like the last 10 minutes sliced off of this one too. Either way it was a great episode all in all.

Spoilers for episode 30 below the cut.

This episode follows the classic late in a season episode formula. By which I mean lots of it is really explicit about what it means but some bits are the sort of thing I like to pull out and analyse. So a lot of the plot beats aren't things I need to cover but there are lots of quotes I do want to dig into. Starting with Sam and Celia on the train, which is a real culmination of Celia's general game plan so far. While it's made abundantly clear by the end of this episode her manipulation of the characters has been a fairly constant part of her characterisation so far.

CELIA It sounded like you’d have gone anyway. At least this way I can make sure it all goes to plan. SAM (small laugh) There’s a plan? CELIA Besides, you’re not the only one who’s curious.

That quote really sums up her whole deal this season IMO. She's always been pushing characters to do one thing or another. As soon as her intentions are brought up she'll avoid the question and move the conversation on to something else. It's been happening basically since she was introduced and I'm really glad to see it built up into something satisfying.

Man, poor Colin. I was hoping we'd get some sort of escalation of his storyline this episode but it looks like that'll be more of a season 2 affair. Similarly that looks to be where Gwen is headed too. She's finally got the job she's after but as Lena warns, and as we're all well aware, she's woefully unprepared for it. Mr. Bonzo, Ink5oul, Lady Mowbray, and Needles will all likely play larger roles in season 2 because of it.

I'm not going to get into the details much but I did really enjoy the Custodian's statement. Lots of fun vibes and little details with his character all around. I would've liked to see him stick around in all honestly and crop up again. His fate is quite interesting though because it's showing a lot more from [Error]'s abilities than has previously been showcased. She made Drowning Victim drown but her statement was all about drowning so that's not too crazy, this is much more tangentially related and a far more extreme effect on the victim. Hard to know how much that means but it might be worth pointing out.

The Hilltop Centre is a lot different to what I was expecting. It seems much more like a supernatural hub than the prior incidents concerning it let on. I'm wondering if this is unique to this universe or a constant throughout them. Without getting too much into the details it could be fallout from TMA's ending but this wound that Celia talks about strikes me as a little odd in that context. There was seemingly only one of them at Hilltop. Unless the world Celia came from is also where Darrien 3 came from, as he arrived from that point, then that wound is drawing in everyone from other realities. However if that's the case then there are some fairly major questions about the metaphysical underpinnings of it. It got "better" when Sam was thrown in but there are also clearly a lot of other people coming through as the Custodian mentions.

It wasn’t all death though. Sometimes people… arrived. Not often, but every now and then you’d find some thin, emaciated soul wandering around, lost and confused.

It wasn't just Darrien 3 that came through, multiple people arrived in the same manner. A manner we know isn't how Celia got here because her reaction to that incident was that it wasn't the same. So is this wound just an amalgamation of all the imbalances from all the various universes? We know why Celia wants to "balance" this because it's trying to pull her back, hence the "sleepwalking", and it would eventually win out. How it works on a larger scale is sort of hard to say. It seems like it will just be there forever until everyone who's not meant to be in this universe has left. That seems like a very tall order based on what we've seen. Speaking of balance.

The institute, alchemy, all of it. It’s all about balance. Dua prima, four elements, seven planets, it’s all the same. You’ve got to keep things balanced.

This is a very interesting quote. There are two possible interpretations for this and I'm not sure it's intended to be seen that way. Each of the things Celia lists here is either correctly numbered or off by one. So she might be saying that these are things for which balance is important, or she's saying these are unbalanced things and need correcting. Either works well with her point here.

Dua prima is not really actually a thing as such and is both the biggest indicator she's talking in terms of them being off by one, but also the biggest indicator she's not. Paracelsus' tria prima is a fairly important concept in alchemy as a whole and if you've read more than a few of my posts you'll have seen me mention it. In short sulphur, salt, and mercury are representative of three fundamental properties. Combustibility, permanence, and fluidity respectively and in addition represent the body, the soul, and the spirit. Paracelsus didn't arrive at this idea on his own however and it's largely an addition to Jābir ibn Ḥayyān's work. Jābir, or Geber as he's sometimes known, had this theory of metals that stated all metals were a mix of sulphur and mercury. Additionally sulphur is associated with masculine qualities and the sun, while mercury is associated with feminine ones and the moon. It's not ever called dua prima so far as I'm aware but you could reasonably make that argument.

This same logic can be applied to her mention of the four elements in which fire, air, earth, and water would make up a classical set of four but can also be considered off by one as aether is a later yet—still classical—addition. Alchemy has seven "planets" each with a corresponding metal but our modern definition puts seven off by one as we would say there are eight. However with all that being said I'm more inclined to believe she meant these things were balanced as they are. I said that the dua prima was also the best indicator of that and for the reason why we've got to go back to episode 19.

Doing mummy and daddy Stasi proud, I’m sure. Not that anyone cares as long as it all balances, right? Not too much mercury or the world ends, not too much sulfur or we all go mad…

At the time I said this was two of the three primes of tria prima, which it is, but in this context it doesn't appear that the lack of salt was an omission. Salt just might not be a part of it at all. It's fairly hard to say exactly how important this will be though. It certainly seems quite relevant but it's also something they might be making up rather than anything more firmly rooted in existing alchemic lore.

I don’t- when I first awoke I knew nothing, nothing but the dream of things that sliced my who from me with claws like scalpels… They would hunt me and toy with what it meant to be me peeling away my layers first my name, then my memory and then… …and then the fearless one reached in and grasped me, tore me out, leaving my story to fall away like autumn leaves…

I think Celia's statement has very little to get into really, I just wanted to mention that it was a nice detail. Another if you know you know and not a topic I get into here. [Error] also has a line here I think is interesting but it requires getting more into TMA than I care for so I'm going to leave it. I'm not 100% sure what to make of it either as of yet.

And there we have it. Season 1 is wrapped. Well other than the epilogue, What If?, fluff episode, and trailer. I don't have much of a bow to tie on this really other than to say I've really enjoyed this season and I'm excited for where it's going to go next.

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Prediction Follow Up

Celia is going to get [Error]ed and exposition dump about her whole deal. - That happened but the exposition relevant to the show's plot didn't occur via that.

Alice gets got and she's got some secret twisty trauma. - Didn't happen.

Teddy can give her a lift and we'll hear what was on his mind. - Also didn't happen.

Speaking of [Error] it seems likely that Celia is going to reveal at least what she knows about Archivists. - This didn't not happen but also didn't really happen exactly.

With [Error] being this season's antagonist it's likely that she's going to get defeated in the finale. - Kinda sorta maybe.

It could be a gaping maw in realities that sucks our cast off to someplace new. - Got some of our cast at least, so lets say 3.

Hilltop is likely to play some role in defeating [Error] and if I had to hazard a guess I think it's likely we'll see some of the great cosmology at play here - Kinda sorta.

I think we're also going to see a good bit of Gwen going behind Lena's back too... I don't think we'll necessarily see anything major happen but I do think it's a pretty likely hook for season 2. - Yeah, that all basically happened.

Final Score 10/10 - Being incorrect does not impact my self-worth.

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Season 2 Predictions

Honestly, I don't have much to say for this. It's probably going to be still follow the same characters, Sam will deal with whatever new universe he's in, Celia will play dumb but Alice won't buy it, Gwen will fail to deal with her new responsibilities, Teddy will reveal some awful secret, Colin will go further into the deep end, and there will probably be some sort of Magnus-based twist.

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Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet and Terminology Sheet

DPHW Theory: 3366 is a very pleasing set of numbers. This one matches episode 8's Architecture (Liminal) -/- Hunger too which I mention for the thematic symmetry. They're quite different incidents but has some similar elements. Which I think is a good indication of my theory's strength. You'd expect some sort of parallels to be able to be drawn if these numbers were ratings in categories as I've laid out. It's not definitive proof but it's more than I've had to talk about here for a while.

CAT# Theory: CAT2 is another obviously "wrong" one for the Person/Place/Object theory IMO. Hilltop is a place but Hilltop didn't cause it and it didn't happen to Hilltop. [Error] made a dude turn into concrete. Fairly useless to pin that one on the location. I think there are more than enough of these obviously faulty ones that I can stop mentioning it come season 2. Hopefully I'll have my own theory to talk about by then too.

R# Theory: We've finally got our first S. It's been long awaited if only by myself. Generally, I'm very pleased with this. An S on this case is some of the best evidence I've had that I'm correct about the general purpose of Ranks. A still living concrete man is undeniable evidence of the supernatural. No amount of explaining it away changes the fact a man turned into concrete and lived to tell the tale. It's still not 100% certain if Rank is purely about evidence or more about urgency in general but I do think now it's fairly clear that if I'm not entirely correct it's the right path.

Header talk: Transmutation (Human) -/- Isolation (Urban). Very little to talk about on that one but it's interesting to see the continued difference between transformation and transmutation.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp theory #tmagp speculation #klaus = kl4-u5

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yuesya · 8 months ago

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As a sorcerer, Shiki is no stranger to dealing with unexpected situations on her assignments. It’s easy for missions to go awry, and a sorcerer must be able to adapt to the rapidly-changing circumstances –or die, usually.

Being stranded in a different world is still stretching things, though.

Shiki is not in the habit of lying to herself. Especially not when the truth is clear to see. Perhaps there are places in China where wild mint grows tall enough to cover a young child’s height, but she’s fairly certain that slimes and burrowing dragon-creatures are not part of the local wildlife in any place on Earth. And that’s not even mentioning the strange elemental flowers that tunnel easily through the earth to launch aggressive surprise attacks…

But the young man traveling with them is clearly used to dealing with such creatures. Xiao dispatches anything that attacks them with ease, unwaveringly calm and brutally efficient. Shiki thinks that he might be the most skillful spear-user that she’s ever seen –not that there are very many sorcerers who wield spears, most preferring swords as Shiki does. But there’s still something about the way with which the young man wields his weapon that hints at a preternatural grace, even by a sorcerer’s standards.

… Even compared with Satoru-niichan’s movements, which is a little alarming to consider. But it does explain how he’d killed Patch-face with minimal injury to himself.

Shiki readjusts her grip on Muta-san, taking a moment to reinforce her body with cursed energy to restore her flagging strength. Physical power is not her strong suit, and Muta-san is heavy, especially with the increased mass from his… transformation, courtesy of the late Patch-face. She’d actually ended up cutting off another portion of his monstrous body in order to make it easier to carry him around with her, but now she’s wondering if she should’ve cut off a larger portion of his dismembered torso…

Shiki had been careful to avoid severing any of Muta-san’s lines, and her cursed technique lapse would prevent him from dying on her. Shoko-san should be able to put him back together and keep him alive, right?

… Although, it’s not as if Shiki can call Shoko-san for assistance right now, what with the current issue of being in another world and all.

She supposes that it’s fortunate she encountered Xiao, who both speaks Japanese –somehow, inexplicably, although the accent is a little strange– and is amenable to lending his assistance, even despite the entire mess with the Special Grade cursed spirits.

He’d fallen silent for a moment after Shiki explained her situation.

“… It would be remiss of me to ignore your situation, considering the circumstances,” he’d finally said. “I do not have the solution to your problem, but… perhaps the other adepti would. I will guide you to Jueyun Karst. Consider it repayment for protecting the people of Liyue, when it was not your responsibility to do so.”

“I am a sorcerer. It’s a sorcerer’s duty to fight curses and protect humans.”

A lesson, a mantra that’s been drilled into her since childhood. The response is reflexive, almost.

Xiao had nodded silently, with a faint flicker of something in sharp golden eyes that made it clear he also understood, then turned and beckoned her to follow.

#Writing #zenith of stars au #genshin impact #liyue au #genshin impact au v2 #aftermath of shiki and mechamaru crash-landing in liyue #shiki goes to visit the adepti!

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riddles-n-games · 7 months ago

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Friends Don't Kiss Like That

A/N: Hello friends! Here it is, the long awaited fake dating fic I've teased since March. I'm so sorry for the wait, this fic took too long to truly develop in my head and while I had fun, I'm mad I didn't get it out sooner. Enjoy!

“-and then?”

“And the-what do you think I did, Mystery Girl?” He eyed her smugly, the bastard, and tapped the side of his head. “Hmm? Use that smart brain of yours.”

“...Jamie.” There was warning in her voice. Her patience would not be tested today; Xander’s experiment in robotics club already did that. But Jameson’s eyes were alight with mischief and there were the beginnings of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Then… I told her off.”

Avery frowned at him, giving a look. The look; Alisa taught her well. It did the job and the younger Hawthornes were secretly afraid at how frighteningly accurate it was. As though it was Alisa herself. “No, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

“...”

“Jameson! Seriously, tell me you didn’t.” She looked at him shocked, hand on his shoulder as he shook his head with an amused huff. “Jamie, I’m being serious here!” She swatted at his chest. The boy was asking for it and trouble was the only call he always answered. Apart from hers, of course. And his brothers, too, but that was a given.

He laughed. “Ok, ok, MG. I didn’t do it… or did I?”

Avery stopped beside him, crossing her arms and sighing exasperatedly as she waited for his laughter to subside. A moment later, he stopped and looked at her, grinning cheekily. For some reason, her mouth went a bit dry. It was unfair how infuriatingly handsome he looked. Wait, where is this goi-

“Turvy, you okay? Aves?” Nicknames; his way of coaxing her out of her thoughts and in rarer cases, expressing his concern. She blinked out of her trance and smiled at him.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She watched as his semi-concerned expression morphed into a playful smirk again. Ever the chaotic chameleon.

“Hold on. Are you checking me out? After all this time, the moment has come. I finally meet the standards of Miss Not A Chance to get a look over. My day is made.” Rolling her eyes as he let out another lighthearted laugh, she put a hand on his arm and pulled.

“Come on, let’s go. Let me walk you to your next class before you take another wrong turn to a stairwell that conveniently leads to the roof. Actually, you haven’t even gotten your textbook yet so let’s head to your locker first which just so happens to be on our way.”

But as she took a step, he tugged right back and twirled her into him. He leaned in close, whispering, “It’s okay, Heiress. I don’t mind. I know I’m good looking and that leaves some girls flustered.” It was in the silence that followed that she knew with certainty he had a shit-eating grin spreading slow and steady across his face, thinking himself so clever. Instead of rolling her eyes like she usually did, she shivered, feeling very affected for some reason. Her heart beat faster at the subconscious reaction.

When he moved back, the sudden tension in the air broke and she could breathe again, taking a quick look around the hall. Thankfully, there weren’t that many students, just a few closing up their lockers and making their way to their next classes.

She knew they were technically fake dating but their deal was still fairly recent and they hadn’t come out in public yet as a couple. Maybe she was used to his proximity since they were good friends but this was new. They displayed physical affection for each other, especially him as it was his love language, but this felt intimate and different. Avery wasn’t quite sure what to make of it and why the sudden effect he had on her.

She shook her head and then looked at him, punching him playfully in the shoulder. “Nice try, Hawthorne, but that’s not happening.”

He shrugged. “Worth a shot.” This time she did roll her eyes and pointed to his locker. “You, physics textbook, now.” He groaned dramatically before approaching his locker, looking back at her forlornly with a slight pout as he opened and slowly dragged out the wretched book. But his eyes caught her attention. Despite the funny expression, his eyes held that intensity when he was wholly focused on something, usually a puzzle and this time, her. Trying to shake off the feeling, she looked up in response to his theatrics as he proceeded to close the door.

It was a bit overwhelming, this new focus he had on her, something she picked up on since he started spending more time with her than ever before. He seemed to have a constant need to distract himself from the anger and pain that Emily caused him but it didn’t feel purely based on that. There was a shift. She noted how intently he paid attention to her post break up and in the moments when he thought she wouldn’t see, she saw the little smiles or the way he would just watch her contently as they worked on homework. And she knew that something had changed but only a little while ago did she start feeling the effects of it herself. Although it scared her, she didn’t find herself shying away from it either.

Not wanting to dwell on it anymore, Avery took hold of his arm as soon as he secured the lock and tugged. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jameson frowned at her, “You’re no fun, you know that?”

She turned to him and smiled mischievously. “I know, that’s why you keep me around. If you haven’t known by now, I’m your unofficial handler. I’m just not paid for it although Grayson and Nash probably thank me for doing so. You and Xander.”

“Oof, now you’re just not being fair. That’s playing dirty, Aves.” She shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”

“I think they taught you a little too well,” he grumbled but Avery simply patted his hand and pulled him along. As they walked he started to mess with her a bit by pretending to struggle against her, pleading with her to go hang with him on the roof for a match of rooftop golfing. “I’ll even let you take the first two turns.” She snorted. They both knew she didn’t need a head start to beat him. When Avery Grambs had her mind set on something, the world was at her feet.

This was them; jokes, teasing, nicknames with interesting back stories, light hearted jabs with meaning, comforting light touches, secret signals, deep talks late at night when no one would hear, solving puzzles and riddles no one else knew how to do, being so in tune with each other’s expressions… Avery loved it. It’s part of what kept her grounded in the past year. She drank in the moment, Jameson’s beaming face, her hands around his arm, the sound of her laughter. Yet she didn’t have enough time to revel in it because there was a storm coming their way.

A red hurricane was making her way down the hall towards them and Avery knew then, peace was lost. Jameson froze beside her at the sight.

Emily Laughlin; golden girl of Heights Country Day, darling of seemingly every gala in Texas, “the Hawthorne keeper”, and now, Jameson’s ex. In Avery’s mind, she was the Strawberry Menace that somehow managed to damper her mood every time she appeared. It was the equivalent of dropping one of Libby’s superior chocolate swirl cupcakes or finding the scone plate void of blueberry ones with only lemon-flavored leftovers in Xander’s wake.

Avery had a motto in school; stay quiet and out of trouble but remain observant. Like anyone else, she knew the hierarchy set in secondary but after moving to Texas and enrolling at a private school, the differences between her old life and new one couldn’t have been more like day and night. The power dynamics of rich kids in a private school system were blown to new proportions as so many intricate details about one’s wealth, connections, and history seemed to play a role in status. This certainly had affected her introduction and integration but somehow she was still able to slip under the radar, at first.

And it was nice, taking back at least a piece of her old reality, and she relaxed, ready to be the quiet one in the corner again. In New Castle, she mostly kept to herself and never really liked drama which was why she tried to keep out of it. It wasn’t that she was shy but there just never seemed like anyone could be there for her in the way Max did, even with her halfway across the country. However, that wouldn’t be the case anymore, especially with the Hawthornes as regular company.

They were all charming, witty, funny, adventurous, some more than others but none without their quirks. Yet, despite the wealth, their way of living, and larger than life characters, they all managed to work their way into her and Libby’s lives. And little by little they also managed to worm their way into Avery’s heart and they wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Although, there were downsides even to being friends with Hawthornes. Avery got along best with Xander and Jameson but that also meant where those two were, there was Emily and her posse. Until recently.

With Emily having been found out to be dating Jameson and his older brother Grayson at the same time with them both blissfully unaware, all hell had broken loose. The boys were affected badly; Gray had taken it the worst but Jameson was in a full blown fury. Out right he told her that he was breaking up with her and that if she were smart she would leave Grayson alone too. Avery had been very proud of him for that, taking up the mantle to protect him and his brother’s honor even though it was equally difficult for him.

Of course, Emily did not take that message well and for the last two months she’d been trying to do whatever she could to make them come around. The audacity the girl had was astonishing and despite a tarnished reputation, she would still stoop so low; Avery may have despised her but marveled her tenacity. Sometimes she wished she had more of that herself. But Jameson had put his foot down and was holding it firmly in place which unfortunately meant that with every new attempt Emily became more unbearable. Like now.

As the Menace neared, Jameson hooked an arm around her and she felt him tracing two adjacent lines on her wrist then squeezing it. Over and over again. He was trying to tell her something. They started that a few months ago, before the breakup, as code for when there was a clue one of them found during Saturday games and didn’t want to alert the others to it. His brothers hadn’t caught onto that yet. As for this code, she knew the squeeze was reassurance as in “Don’t worry.” but the first part confused her. Was that an L, a V, or a check mar- Check mark; as in “All good.” He was telling her that he’s good and can handle it.

Right as she finished that thought, he spoke up. “Hi Emily. What can we do for you today?” His tone was controlled, conversational, and his composure steady but Avery sensed the underlying unease. What he was really trying to say was, No, I can’t help you, leave me alone. And can you despawn from the map while you’re at it?

“Jameson.” The Laughlin girl stopped a few meters from them, sounding hesitant and giving her best withered look. Avery would give her props for the effort but after being witness to this act more than a dozen times in the past two weeks, it was cumbersome. “Can we… talk?”

“Sure! The weather’s great today. Might take my new bike out for a spin on the track. Actually, the weather’s been treating us pretty well for the last while, right Aves?”

She side-eyed him but nodded in agreement. “Yup.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed slightly at her but she kept her demeanor in place. “Actually, I was hoping we could do so in private?”

Jameson grinned wickedly. “No, we may not. But if you do have something worthwhile to say, you can say it in front of me and Avery.”

“I see… You’ve already moved on.” Her tone started to sound sour. “Yes, and we’re very happy, thank you very much. Is that all?” He’s having fun with this.

“I always thought you two were a little too close for my taste even when we were together. Guess I should’ve known this would happen eventually.” Playing the victim card… Nice.

“Well, yeah. We never made our friendship a secret. It was pretty out in the open from the start that we got off pretty well since she moved here. You know, the way we used to when we were friends, Em. Hmm? Remember that? But oh, that was before a certain nasty betrayal occurred on your part, might I add.” Now he was just taking it too far. Avery wondered if she would have to tame the flames soon but Jameson paid no heed as she subtly elbowed his side. Instead, he simply grabbed her arm and wove his fingers around hers. She tried not to show her surprise as her heart sped up again.

Emily growled, “I never meant for it to happen that way Jamie-” “Jameson.” “Right, Jameson. I was new to this and had feelings for both of you. Believe me, I was very conflicted about the whole thing so I-”

“So you just decided to date both of us in secret without the other knowing for six months while we poured out the best of us into farces of relationships and you stabbed us with a knife in the back in return for our goodness. Gotcha. Nice talk,” he nodded along while winking mockingly and Emily glared back. The tension was just getting worse and Avery sensed her time was coming.

“No, I’m sorry that happened. It shouldn’t have happened that way at all. But it did, I recognize that was very wrong of me but I really was trying to settle on one of you; it’s just you’re both so great and I was lucky to have even just one of you paying attention to me.” Cue the tears, roll the credits; Avery was rolling her eyes internally.

“I’m gonna call cut. A word of critique; bull. Shit. You are one of the most attractive girls in school, you know this, so don’t pull that with me. Second of all, didn’t you hear, love triangles especially with brothers aren’t in style anymore. Not since Damon and Stefan on Vampire Diaries. And much less cheaters at that. But you just find yourself the exception as you always do, don’t you Emily?”

She scoffed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. You were basically emotionally cheating on me with her. Don’t try to deny it. I saw it; the talks, the inside jokes, the fact she was invited to elusive Saturday games much sooner than I ever was, how she was always on your team, and your weird handshakes. You were so touchy feely with her.”

Jameson quirked an eyebrow. “You know, for someone who claims that she’s all-seeing, clearly you’re blind. I kept a very respectful distance with Avery throughout our relationship and only did those handshakes when we were in public after accomplishing an assignment or a puzzle. We teamed up a lot because you almost always wanted to be with Gray despite my protests. Oftentimes we also didn’t share the same time slots for classes although I wanted to be with you and because sometimes Avery was, I wanted to help her integrate. It was something that my grandfather and Nash asked me and Xan to do. Our talks-” he sighed. “Look, I can go on but you would just turn that on me when you’re the one at fault here. End of story.”

“Oh, so you're her mouthpiece now? Miss Quiet As A Mouse can’t speak for herself; cat got your tongue?” That last remark was directed at her. Jameson wanted to protest but she put a hand on his chest. She could handle it.

While Avery avoided Emily like the plague and did her best to be polite when she had no choice but to interact with her, she did not tolerate mean girls. She had a voice and she wasn’t about to let a discounted rip off Regina George ruin her day by having her run her mouth. Plus, she’s being a disgrace to the real one. Yes, Max made her watch some cult classics back in seventh grade and it was one of the films she actually enjoyed but she would never tell her that.

“What Jameson just said is all true. Plus, I was getting the signals from you. Don’t think for a second that I missed a single of your dirty looks when we hung out in a group. I knew you considered them yours. But last I checked, I often declined his company and was more so with your sister, Xander, and still I preferred my sister most to all of you. I’m not one to stray from my zone that often and it was because of Mr. Hawthorne that the boys got so involved with me. You were just an unfortunate addition that couldn’t find harmony because of your jealousy. Rest assured, I wasn’t ever after your crown but I did care about them as a concerned friend.” There. That was her piece in the matter.

Emily laughed brokenly, letting her very fake tears stream down her fair cheeks as she swiped at them in a manner of attempting to regain composure. It was laughable. “If you think like that Av-ery, then you’re the biggest convincing liar I’ve ever seen. You-”

“Choose your next words carefully. Because next time there won’t be any talking or pleasantries of any sort; we’ll walk right on by. And if I hear you’re harassing Avery, consider yourself on the receiving end of a restraining order.” Jameson’s words resounded in the hall as everyone around them was intently listening to the argument. Emily was always one for a show and while Jameson wasn’t one to care, he was aware that Avery was. It felt debilitating as she felt eyes on her but she tried not to pay attention as she was sort of privy to this already at major events when she was photographed with Xander at comps or charities as a special guest of the Hawthorne family. Yet school felt like a different story because of how life worked with teenagers where everything was under even more scrutiny.

“Fine!” she spat. “Just know I loved you but she most certainly doesn’t. She will never appreciate you the way I did and trust me that this is gonna be a short-lived relationship so when she leaves you high and dry, don’t come crawling back to me. All she’s gonna prove to be is a giant fake that wants you for your money; a filthy gold digger from dirt poor New Castle. A nobody! She and her sister!”

Avery didn’t bat an eye. Although she felt anger flaring inside her at the jab at Libby, the most she did was send Emily a concentrated stare that dared her to say it again. However, it was her best friend that took that most to heart in the moment.

He wasn’t having it. His facial features were strained; mouth pursed in a grim line and long gone was the cool façade he kept up for the sake of fake pleasantry. She saw the telltale signs of irritation; clenched jaw, left eyebrow twitching ever so slightly, eyes glazed over with a steely edge and he was biting at his lips. His hands were balled into fists and his body was as taut as a bowstring, ready to strike out. He’s pissed. Avery couldn’t tell if the situation would escalate to the point it ended in a fight, if he was going to blow a fuse or just walk away.

She’d be surprised if he didn’t put up some more arguing, though, as of late, there were quite a few instances where he simply left the scene. Maturity maybe, but this is still Jameson we’re talking about.

And yet, what he did instead was something she never saw coming. He turned her way but before she could ask what was wrong or register what was happening, his lips were firmly against hers. He simply dove down and kissed her. Just like that. No words, no signal, no nothing. All she got was a moment to see his determined gaze turning on her, no prior warning, and then he was kissing the breath out of her.

Avery froze; her brain was shutting down and she didn’t know how to move her limbs. Jameson, thankfully, wasn’t phased and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her body was still on autopilot but she knew her feet were shuffling forward and while it took a moment longer, she finally managed to react.

Her hands found their way to his chest, grasping at the lapels of his blazer. She felt fuzzy, he was warm and solid against her and his cologne smelled nice and he was so good at this and… For what felt like a small eternity, he kissed her and she was started to relax. But as Avery was about to reciprocate, he pulled away just as quickly. Opening her eyes right after was a mistake because she was blindsided by the disorientated feeling overwhelming her. Is this the infamous Cloud 9?

She was still clutching at the blazer, her grip having gone lax, and her other arm fell slack by her side. The only reason she realized she was still holding onto him was because he’d wrapped his hand around hers, squeezing it to give her reassurance but even that was over fast.

“Come on, Avery.” When he said her name, the world came rushing in and subsequently, she became aware of everyone else, including Emily herself, gawking at them. Suddenly, she wasn’t so disoriented. Although she was still trying to recover from that surprise kiss, her mind was catching up and the underlying sense of embarrassment and horror were coming back in full force. If her cheeks weren’t flushed before, they were now as she was unable to look away from everyone surrounding her. But Jameson decided they weren’t sticking around.

He grabbed her hand and tugged lightly, pulling her after him. She allowed herself a second more to linger on their audience before turning forward, focusing her eyes on the back of Jamie’s head. In her semi-dazed state, it was probably the better decision in favor of her standing there frozen with her mouth open and eyes widened like a confused fish.

As Jameson dragged her away from the scene, away from Emily, the onlookers and the uncomfortable intensity of their stares that seemed to follow them down the hall, only then did reality wake her to the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. They were just friends… weren’t they?

She was just being a good friend helping him out by agreeing to fake date him to get his ex-girlfriend off his back because she had simultaneously dated him and his brother and kept both their relationships a secret, right?

If so, then why did he have to go and kiss her like that? They’d agree to kissing, yes, but friends didn’t kiss that way. It felt more passionate than necessary, like there was something deeper he was trying to convey than just his frustration and fury. Admittedly, she did like the kiss just a little more than she expec-Wait, she wasn’t getting a crush on her friend, was she?

Oh no. This wasn’t in the rules.

A/N: Thanks for reading. I will be announcing my next fic(s) for release very soon. Reminder, all my fics are also on AO3 for you to read if you prefer that platform under the pseudonym ThePuzzledWriter. Bye!

#avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #averyjameson #averyjameson fics #the inheritance games fanfics #tig fanfiction #the inheritance games #tig

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