#i don't know if i can handle the last movie this one was unlike any viewing experience i've had in a while

[thebirdandhersong]

aight peace out y'all I have no energy left and I'm done the movie. So much for a restful experience after a long day. All I wanted was something fun to watch while folding laundry but apparently this was not the movie to watch for that. I should've just stuck with Rebels

[moonsaver]

wheover that anon was that spoke up about mr reca I LOVE U WE SHOULD KISS

ALSO YESSS IRIS FAM MEMBER! READER WHOS AN ACTRESS/ACTOR!!! just imagine being THE mr. reca’s favorite thespian he’s ever worked with oh my gosh im drooling rn 😍🥰😋🔥😜

Yes anon!! Very real of the other anon. And of you.

This is yandere, so tw

Iris!Reader who's an actress/actor would smash. Imagine despite your humble beginnings and barely being able to keep your family afloat you make it. Although perhaps our beloved actor/actress doesn't quite fit the beauty standard, or they haven't made their debut in a popular film, or maybe they just aren't what most movies are focused on right now, considering the disparity between an actor's range and the genres they might partake in.

Here comes Mr. Reca, swooping you from who knows where, plopping you down into a makeup chair and reading the script to you at 50 words/sec speed. You have no idea where you are or what's going on before you're pushed onto the movie set, completely winded before Mr. Reca throws his hands up all "oh alright! Since you can't get the hang of this yet, I'll lend you a hand" or whatever excuse he loves to pull out of his ass. He personally guides you with the movie scripts, drags you along to any parties he may have to attend, forces you "into the filming sphere" or whatever by "exposure". You could be sleeping and he'd blast into your personal residence at 4 in the morning, and drag you along. He probably even forces you to sit down and listen to all his ideas and brainstorming sessions.

The more time you spend with him, the more sense he eventually makes. It's strange, and you almost end up questioning if you might be going insane. But you brush it off, because you realise he's been caring to you. Unlike most directors, he does care for his cast. He does provide a hospitable atmosphere to work with, which makes you realise just why your co-stars are so eager to please him. Mr. Reca, although insane and hard to decipher, makes you almost gravitate towards him when his eccentricities are laid bare before you.

Every time your short contract ends, he's already got the next one printed out and ready for you to sign. You appear so often beside him, it's unusual for you not to. Often, you make headlines with Mr. Reca backing you up. It's all in the palm of his hands when he gets you to stardom.

Oh, but isn't it a bit too much?

Nosy paparazzi that continually stalk and harass you, fans or even those that despise you call you or your family, people surrounding your home just to get a glimpse of your daily life, drivers who follow your car everywhere.. it's a bit too much for your pretty little head to handle. Mr. Reca is all too familiar with these pests. Why don't you stand closer and let him deal with them? Nevermind the fact he paid them, or that he's been rather eager to practice method acting with you.

Speaking of, he's replaced all your co-stars whenever it comes to suggestive or intimate scenes, considering himself as their stand-in since, well.. You're more comfortable with him, aren't you? You've been under his wing for so long, it's easier for you to do these uncomfortable scenes with him, instead of those no good actors.

You're not sure when it happens, but you notice the amount of cast dwindling until it's you and him, all alone. The movies are beautiful, but it's hard to hide the shivering by just pure acting skills when you realise no one has you in their grasp as much as Mr. Reca. His eager, insane eyes watching you like a rabid animal hidden behind a camera when you act all alone on a solitary set. This is the last time he allows the privilege of your visage on the lens, before you mysteriously go missing. You are meant for only the lens of his observant eyes, he states, as though confessing a haunting realisation.

Oh well, you can continue acting. Just remember your audience. It's only him you have to consider pleasing.

[i-arch-my-backula]

Louis and Lestat's reaction to seeing their s/o covered in blood

I did this on Halloween last year for horror characters, which will be getting a part two soon, but I thought, why not do this for more vampires I'm in love with. I'm trying to get back into writing more often and I hope that this will help get the ball rolling. This is also for the 1995 movie, I haven't seen the show.

Warnings: Blood drinking, suggestive content (nothing explicit), reader is covered in blood, Lestat is a freak, not proof read

Lestat De Lioncourt

It's your first feed since being turned. Lestat found the perfect candidates for you and him to share on this lovely night. He soothed your hesitancy and promised it'll be ok. After all, you have to eat to live.

Lestat has been a vampire for centuries, so he knows how to get away mess free from his meals, you on the other hand, aren't quite as skilled at that yet. So as Lestat sucks the blood from his victim, he looks over at you and finds that you're drenched in blood, he can't help but smile to himself.

He finished his meal as you keep going, more blood gushing from your victims neck into your mouth and onto your clothes and face. Lestat has to gently pull your meal away from you, reminding you not to drink dead mans blood.

But good lord you're a sight to behold. Sitting on the ground, the lower half of your face smeared with blood, your clothes soaked in it too, Lestat can feel himself getting aroused just at the sight of you like this. Your hair messy, your clothes slightly opened, the look in your eyes, it's almost too much to handle.

But Lestat, being the gentleman that he is, has to help you clean up. It's not his fault that cleaning you up just so happens to mean making out with you so hard he almost breaks your nose while he licks the blood from your face. Oh and if any blood seeped through your clothes and onto your skin, you bet he's going to lick that off you too.

You blessed him with the sight of you covered in blood and you expect him to not immediately be a freak about it? You clearly don't know anything about Lestat.

Lestat is going to be himself and try to get you that messy every time you eat. He can get someone to wash out your clothes or he'll just get you new ones, it doesn't matter, he sees you covered in blood and he feels his undead heart come to life once again.

Louis De Pointe Du Lac

Louis didn't turn you, but he found you, out at night, crying with hunger, and he knew he had to help you. He's past the point of eating rats and feeling catholic levels of guilt about being a vampire. So he leads you to your first meal.

He has to verbally tell you to be careful as you drink from the person he found you. Because this is your first time drinking from someone, you're very messy with it, any blood that didn't make it into your mouth, made it's way all over your clothes and face.

If you have longer hair Louis will be a gentleman and hold it back for you as you feast. He stays silent the whole time, just letting you get your fill and adjust to this new found hunger being a vampire brings.

Once you're finished and you push your victim away from you, Louis sees just how covered in blood you are. He hates to admit it, but he's obsessed with your look. The red staining the lower half of your face and clothes, your hands covered in blood as you start to lick them clean, God damn you Y/N don't you know what you're doing to him?

Louis won't lick the blood off of you like Lestat did, he's not that big of a freak, but he will lead you into the bathroom and help you clean yourself up, that is until he has to step away because he knows what seeing you like this is doing to him.

If you strip in front of him he could care less, all he cares about in that moment is seeing you in your state of being drenched in blood, having it all over your face and body like that, it drives him mad. If only he could take a picture of you like that.

Unlike Lestat, Louis won't intentionally try and get you all covered in blood again, but he won't teach you how to be careful with drinking blood either. You can't blame a man for wanting to see someone as attractive as you covered in blood as much as possible.

[bia-wayne-west]

Pregnancy — Barry Allen x Reader

Characters: Barry Allen (The Flash), Reader (You).

Synopsis: You have been married to Barry for two years. One fine day, you start to feel a hunger worthy of a little speedster.

Warnings: Pregnancy, seasickness, pregnancy discovery

N / A: I did this imagine in 10 minutes. I watched a pregnancy movie with my cousin, and then we went to watch The Flash, she suggested the idea to me and I loved it. Hope you like it.

I'm a Latina girl who doesn't speak fluent English, so I want to apologize for any writing errors you find. Feel free to correct me.

MASTERLIST

The day had begun. The sun came through the window, causing you to curl up even more in the duvets.

You ran your hand over the bed, feeling the sheet to feel Allen's warm body. There was only an empty space, indicating that he had been awake for some time.

Your mind tried to sleep again, however, a sweet smell flooded his nostrils. You could have sworn it smelled like pancakes and condensed milk.

The sheets were set aside as his feet touched the ground. With delicate steps, you made your way to the kitchen, being guided by the wonderful smell. You had no intention of surprising Barry, as he could see everything happening in slow motion and could easily see you approaching.

 Allen held a frying pan, trying to flip a pancake. On the kitchen counter was a stack of pancakes and two coffee cups of Jitters.

With a smile on your face, you approached your husband, placing your hand on the speedster's shoulder. Barry's face lit up, showing a sweet smile.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, my dear.”

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“You always make coffee, I decided to make it for you today.” Allen placed the last finished pancake on the plate, enjoying the view of what he had just prepared. “Are you hungry?”

“I think I could devour a whole cow.” Your stomach churned, complaining of hunger.

 You usually didn't eat much, unlike your husband. Barry had to consume at least fifteen thousand calories daily, so he could stay upright and healthy. He literally ate all day and kept him body skinny.

Unlike you, who hardly felt hungry. You were the perfect couple. When you couldn't finish your snack, Allen was able to eat everything and still had plenty of room in his stomach. A few weeks ago, you began to feel extraordinarily hungry.

 You ate almost the same amount of food as Barry. It seemed like you were a speedster, too. Her sense of smell could sense food being prepared in other rooms, as well as feeling terrible nausea and dizziness. You thought it was vitamin’s problem, and you bought some to make yourself feel better.

 Within seconds, the breakfast table was fully set. Without much ceremony, you joined your husband to enjoy their morning meal.

“I could have sworn you have hypermetabolism too.” He joked when he saw you steal a pancake from him after eating yours.

“I don't know what happened. It feels like I'm eating for an army.” You verbalized, picking up the dishes to wash them. As soon as your hand placed the last glass in the sink, a horrible sensation gripped your entire body. You ran to the bathroom, feeling a terrible urge to vomit. Your body leaned over the toilet as the breakfast was poured out.

In less than a second, Barry appeared at your side, his face full of concern. One hand held your hair, while the other smoothed your back.

 “Are you okay?”

“I am. I think I ate more than my stomach can handle.”

“Let Caitlin examine you.”

“I told you I'm fine, dear.” You got up with Barry's help. Along the way, you felt your vision darken and your body vibrate, as if you were a speedster. “I think going to see Caitlin is a good idea.”

 (…)

“I have two new features.” Caitlin said, as soon as she finished examining your blood. “A good one and a bad one, depending on one's point of view.”

“What's the good news?” Barry asked. Cisco, Joe, Barry, and you were waiting in the exam room. Caitlin held a sheet of paper with the results of your exams.

“You're pregnant.”

 Your world spun. Your chest collapsed with happiness. A year ago, you and Barry were planning to have a child, but you never had any luck.

Allen took your hand. The speedster's face was flooded with a smile. Everyone in the room was happy with the news of yet another person being added to Team Flash.

“And what's the bad news?” You asked.

“Very well.” She seemed to be looking for the right words. “I did an ultrasound, and it looks like the baby's heart has stopped.”

“You mean he's dead?”

Everyone in the room asked at once. Tears had already appeared in your eyes, you had barely gotten used to the idea of being a mother, and your little Allen was no longer with you.

“Theoretically, yes.”

“Explain it properly.” You demanded.

“When Barry was struck by lightning, his heart stopped several times. Doctors believed he had died because the machines couldn't record his heartbeat.” She explained. “But his heart had never stopped, what happened is that he was so fast that not even the machines could keep up.”

“So your theory is that the baby is like Barry?” Cisco chimed in. His face was in an expression it was always when he was thinking. “My God, that completely explains your extraordinary hunger and why you started vibrating like a speedster.”

“Our son is also fast.” Allen said, grinning from ear to ear. He deposited a beak on your lips, still holding your hand.

 Ten years later…

 You've finished setting the lunch table. The dish of the day was pasta with broccoli and cheese. Benjamin Allen's favorite meal.

After putting the last dish on the table, you called your child. Benjamin quickly descended using his powers.

The wind caused by your little one's speed left one of the glasses on the table unbalanced. Before Ben had a chance to catch him, another speedster came in front of him. Barry put the glass right where it was before, and went to meet him.

The brunette wrapped his arms around his body and pressed a sweet kiss to her neck. A laugh escaped his throat as he saw his son utter an exclamation of disgust.

“Please, your son is here watching you be completely disgusting. Ben said, sitting in the chair.

Benjamin has the same hair color as yours, but he had the same green eyes as his father. Everyone who saw him always said the same thing, that he was a faithful copy of Barry Allen.

 He and your husband were the guardians of Central City. The little one has not yet obtained all of his father's abilities, but he has the super speed and the ability to vibrate his body and molecules.

 In the middle of lunch, you smiled when you saw the size of your child's plate, which was three times larger than yours. That scene reminded him of something.

“Ben, would you like to hear the story of the day I found out I was pregnant?”

[toskarin]

THE WAY OF ALL FLESH 《万人の途》

You need not hurry, We've got all the time in the world.

My memory has failed sadly of late.

He is violently pessimistic.

It is wildly unlikely.

There is all the difference in the world between the two.

make an unholy fuss about very little.

Dear me! What a sorry mess everything is in!

The painting is a rank imitation.

a gross mistake.

a crushing bore.

with no earthly reason.

be crass ignorance.

every trick in the book.

They have all the advantages in the world.

go native. go bust.

The proposal came one vote short of unanimous approval.

I can't reach the buttons on the back. Will you do them for me?

So many movies have had this plot that it has been done to death.

Things don't go so well in real life.

It will go hard with him if he is found out.

It makes no difference no matter which way the election goes.

some people still can go without paying taxes.

look full in the face.

The sun shone in our faces.

One and one makes one.

These make a pair.

make the passing mark.

The seal is missing on the document.

The lace on one of my shoes had god undone.

I wouldn't want to be quoted on this.

I'm not much on putting those things into words.

be short on imagination.

It seems he got mixed up on his instructions.

Who is going to take you up on your offer!

He erred grossly on that problem.

a toy balloon on a string.

a dog on a chain.

be a black mark.

He is the sort of man whose personal charm grows on you on acquaintance.

Wherever did you put?

It was a good joke, but fell flat on him.

The mood grew on me.

My mind was not on it.

be borne in on one.

Shame on you!

an experiment on animals.

It is too late to perform an operation on him.

You ought to be harder on him.

Acids act upon metals.

It is unfair on you.

His voice grates upon my ear.

The drinks are on me.

Do you know you are taking a great deal on yourself?

Don't tell on me.

She seems to have something on him.

play a neat trick on a person.

get die on a person.

They have nothing on us.

Age has begun to tell on me.

No use trying to pull such a trick on me.

be on trial.

He is unable to hold anything on his stomach.

The scene was on.

I lay awake thinking over it all last night.

I had to rack my brains over that problem.

She hesitated over her answer.

ride roughshod over the objection.

Don't pull that line on me.

pull a sanctimonious face.

He never pulls his rank.

We are running short of gas.

Time is running short on me.

One's devil's luck runs out.

Finally she ran out of patience.

The watch has run down.

let one's imagination run riot.

run short of topics for conversation.

That is not the way the world is run.

run a machine at a high voltage.

run a person on a lie detector.

leave a motor running.

He stands small chance against you.

Kids run a high temperature over nothing in particular and snap out of it.

investigate a matter to the ground.

criticize severely.

You are worn to a shadow.

boring to distraction.

It has been done to death.

The bag was filled to bursting with sugar.

What are you seeing?

They were killed to a man.

It is done to a turn.

There is another side to the coin.

There's not enough depth to the story.

There is more to it than that.

There was no jerk to his motions.

That is about all there is to it.

The words had an ironical ring.

Have you any clue to work on?

The brakes refused to work.

The machine was still in fine working order.

The plan worked remarkably well.

It is very well in theory, but will it work?

His reason ceased to work.

Flattery will not work with him

It might work and again it might not work

I'm afraid it won't work so well.

Our plan worked successful.

The trick won't work with him.

The handle doesn't work.

The warning seemed to work most effectively.

Her face worked fiercely.

The screw had worked loose.

work a spear through one's hands.

They will work you to death.

He worked on a smile that didn't quite come off.

There is no knowing how that will work itself out.

This problem will not work out.

The safe opened to the key.

a ticket to a movie.

exit to applause.

The medicine worked into the wounded skin.

Oh! I'm inside out!

You are unzipped.

No stopover on this ticket.

try to enter a country on an expired passport.

I'll come again when you are free.

The question is who will bell the cat.

The fact that he was sick was not very impressive to her.

You asked for it.

untie a tight knot.

The girl couldn't word her feelings well.

Does he really mean it? I wonder.

Let him do his worst.

a would-be kindness.

Did she agree with you?

Turn your face toward me.

I don't think I can do it,but I'll try.

What is true of them is equally true of you.

They trumped up a charge to put him in jail.

Think it over carefully before you decide.

What are you talking about?

He bothered me with stupid questions.

Can it really be mine?

Don't calculate on me helping you.

No one called my attention to it.

Watch when you talk about religion.

You have the advantage of me.

They shouted to the utmost of their strength.

She never gave utterance to her personal feelings.

There were very few passengers in the train.

How much use did you get out of the machine?

It's not us that tried to upset their plans.

There was a chasm yawning in front of us.

Let me see,where was I?

Where did the plan go wrong?

work out one's idea of one's role.

To live is to suffer.

This is playing with words.

know what you mean.

What do you see?

You ought to have been more careful.

You need not have come.

Who do you think you are?

I have no idea what the word means.

ARRIVE ON THE EDGE

YOU RECAPTURED KARNEL OF THE LOST ARTICLE

AND THE ORDER IS TOTALLY OVER.

[justanotherperson1]

Imagine the kids scrambling to handle this mess. Jack handles Prime, Raf goes for Ratchet and Miko deals with Bay. Someone needs to remind the bots that not everyone is against them.

Miko thinks the only way to get Bay's mind out of this unhealthy slump is to remind about the good side. Throughout all his adventures, he had key help from humans who still believed in him despite everything. Bay died to protect Sam who later almost dies bringing the Matrix of Leadership to bring him back.

Cade still repaired the Autobot Leader despite knowing his identity and kept faith in him. It's okay to not fully trust others but he can't group an entire race in the same category when there were humans who helped the Autobots until the end. Plus Cybertronians are in the safe boat. Both species have their good/bad sides.

Raf and Jack remind everyone that if Fowler really wasn't on their side than everyone would already be in hiding already. He may be rough at times but the agent is like Lennox. Still loyal to his companions.

A liaison doing the best he can to keep the peace despite the Autobots absolutely sucking at staying incognito. You want to prepare or be cautious? Okay but don't throw someone whose clearly still has faith and trust into the possible enemy bin.

There's also issues with the Matrix of Leadership. Both Optimus have gone through a personality change and Ratchet doesn't trust the relic one bit. Orion Pax incident already showed what Prime was like before becoming the person he is today.

It will mark any potential threat to Cybertron as a danger despite the circumstances. A onesided piece of scrap metal that cannot be trusted. Everyone has to work together or sink by the inner turmoil than just Decepticons.

I feel like Bay! Optimus would find the most wisdom from Arcee in this moment. Though Miko’s words would be kind, Arcee’s experience would be a inadvertant comfort.

After the reveal of what the humans did to his Ratchet he would retreat to the roof where Arcee would find him.

She wouldn’t scold him or try to lure him back with the others but istead, under the low light of a setting sun, they would sit and look over the world just beyond Cliffjuper’s memoral in a certain solidaridy.

They are the most alike and therefore, Arcee would be the most likley to understand him. Unlike Prime! Optimus who is the ‘figurehead’ and the ‘ideal’, I feel she would be more likley and more willing to hear Bay!. Does that exuse his actions? His brashness? What could Arcee say? She’s been where he was and is still activly trying to tame the rage she sure as the pit feels.

That’s not to say none of the others in the team don’t experience loss, but Arcee and Bay! Prime seem to deal with loss and the feeling of failure the same way.

She wouldn’t try to defend humaninty as a whole, but tell stories of Jack and how he helped her after the death of Cliffjumper, and maybe…. Just maybe, Bay! Would recall the young boy he once knew that the first human he ever talked to. Who was there when few others would stand with him.

But your last line couple of lines raises an iteresting thought.

Bay!’s matrix has been stained long before him and found a kindered spirit in a Crucader become Prime. In the very first movie he said that Cybertron was an Empire, and later we learn that he and other knights like him traveled the stars in a PRISON ship Lockdown later comindeared from him. Do you guys remember what it looked like? What was in it?

“Bone grinders, brain blinders, flesh peelers, chromazonal inverters, catatonic slug, black hole trap doors and, of course, radiation.” - Crosshairs, Age of Extinction.

What the hell is he doing with a ship like that?!

Even then, everything the Bay! Allspark touches turns into a rage-filled, blood thirsty vile creature who’s only initiative is to destroy everything around it. We see this again and again in the years we Optimus is on Earth. The more and more electronics accidently get turned into Cybertronian creatures- so then what rules does the Matrix follow when heralding and protecting such a naturally violent race? What morals would it really have.

What was he doing? Before and after the matrix?

And what was the Matrix truly instilling in him?

Do you think, in Prime! Optimus seeing himself he saw something not like him? a being who was already a conqueror before the fall of their race? Something who, in theory shared his ideas, but in action truly was brutish? A Cybertronian more like Unicron than that of Primus?

Did Bay! Optimus really change after the Matrix?

[plzu]

Just Water, Thanks - (Adrian Chase x Reader)

part four☕️

a/n: tbh if my 13 y/o self saw me updating a multi-chapter fic [redacted] months after the last update, she'd be impressed. this is shorter than i wanted it to be bc i had to cut it off. consider this an in-between chapter as we navigate (negative) emotions and such. anyway, hope y'all don't mind as i steer this story into angst territory! Summary: Adrian takes care of you while you are drunk and miserable in his home. Warnings: 18+, no Y/N, ANGST (reader is going thru it), mentions of assault, mentions of gore and blood and nightmares, a reference to one of the Saw movies (idk which, sorry), not beta read, if i missed anything lmk pls!! Word Count: 3.3k+

Revelations are dizzying. Revelations taste like vomit in the back of your mouth, and the backs of your teeth. Revelations leave you sore all over, more sore than you think you’ve ever been. Revelations are exhausting. They leave you parched as shit.

Or maybe that’s just the alcohol.

The night wasn’t supposed to go like this. 

It was supposed to be some girls from high school. Old friends. Best friends. The people that were your anchor in Evergreen, who made everything bearable. Late night talks and laughing over the dumbest things and whisperings about crushes and aspirations.

People you slowly stopped talking to once you moved across the country, to some city that could swallow you whole.

People that decided to return the favor. Two last minute ditches, and one that completely ghosted you. They’re just busy, you thought, a dirty martini and a half in. They have real jobs, and spouses, and… kids? Maybe?

Pouty and miserable at the sleek bar, drowning your insecurities in alcohol, picking at the olives at the bottom of empty glasses. They’re too- too good for me, anyway. 

Having found some semblance of happiness in an unlikely friendship with Adrian Chase, you thought you’d finally venture out, expand your social circle again. Feel like you have everything together, finally.

Learn to experience snatches of happiness elsewhere, outside of time spent with Adrian. Because, face it: there is something that feels slippery about him. Evanescent. Like one day he’s going to disappear, or get bored of you.

Or reveal whatever secrets he’s been clearly harboring, something neither of you could return from, and the wedge that it would drive between you would leave you right back to where you started: a ghost that didn’t even have the good grace to properly die. 

You walk -- stagger, really -- down the empty street, most of your weight supported by the masked Vigilante. Adrian is supposedly under that mask. You cannot wrap your head around this fact, even after watching Vigilante answer Adrian’s phone, and say some bullshit excuse only Adrian could come up with. 

“Alright, here we are!” Vigilante (Adrian?) declares. “The Vigilante-mobile.”

You both come to a stop. You squint bleary-eyed at the 4-door sedan, glance at the masked face beside you, then back to the car. 

“It’s just your regular car.”

Vigilante -- no, Adrian, definitely Adrian -- snorts. “Well, yeah. I can’t exactly afford a second car with a busboy salary.”

This almost makes you laugh, because Adrian is good at that, really. Effortless. But nausea stirs in your gut, so you decide against it. Grumble a wordless response instead. 

Adrian attempts to ease you into the passenger seat, asking if you’re hurt anywhere else. If they hurt you in any worse ways other than the obvious. You can only shake your head noncommittally, fighting back the urge to vomit again. There will definitely be bruises and sore spots on your aching body from the rough way they had handled you, but you know what he’s really asking.

Head slumped back against the headrest, you close your eyes for a few minutes. You have to buckle up, Adrian urges, but you cannot find the strength or the energy to pull the seat belt around your body. A pathetic little huff is all you can really muster before Adrian, patient and gentle, pulls the seat belt around your torso and fastens you in place. 

Unfortunately, the gentle action is buffeted by the coppery scent that washes over you, the roughness of his gloves and suit briefly scraping your skin; this doesn’t smell like Adrian. Not like the familiar Irish Spring soap, or coffee and caramel after visiting you at the cafe. This makes you whine. Whimper, really, dissatisfied and uncomfortable and very momentarily scared. 

Misunderstanding, he tells you you’re going to be okay, in a voice that’s a touch too animated for the general mood of the night.

When the door is shut, you try not to suffocate in the brief silence that follows. Keep your eyes closed as the muffled thud of the trunk jolts the car a bit, willing the queasiness away. Desperately wishing for water, or sleep, or death. 

You do not open your eyes when Adrian finally gets in the car, and starts driving, until he mentions something about taking you home. At that point, your eyes fly open.

“No,” you beg. “No, Adrian, please. I can’t go home like this. I don’t want them to see me like this.”

There’s a quiver in your voice. Nervousness builds in your chest, a rapid flutter in your ribs that makes you feel like crying. Adrian stares, eyes flicking from your face to the quickening rise and fall of your chest, and you realize it’s just Adrian sitting next to you, now. Wearing normal clothes. No blood-splattered suit or eerie red visor. Just the familiar--if slightly disheveled--curly hair and glasses, lips parted in confusion or concern. Seeing his bare face is almost a comfort, especially when he nods, and faces the road again. 

The trip to Adrian’s apartment becomes a hazy memory. He walks you through the corridors of some small apartment complex until you’re trudging through the threshold of his home, where he guides you through the dark into his bedroom. You sag into the edge of his bed once he turns on the light. 

“Gotta get you cleaned up, but… do you need water?” Adrian asks. You only stare back up at him before he goes, “right, yeah, no, you definitely need water. Wait right here.”

When he comes back, Adrian is juggling a couple of bottles of water and a first-aid kit to dress your wound. He sets everything down, handing you a chilled water bottle which you gratefully accept. You cannot unscrew the cap of the bottle fast enough to immediately quench the discomfort of your sandpaper tongue. 

“Slow sips,” Adrian says, after some reckless guzzling causes you to choke and dribble water all over your chin. 

Setting the bottle aside, you notice stands with his back to you on the other side of the room. You realize this is him giving you privacy so you can begin the struggle of taking off the stockings. They get halfway down your thighs, dress rucked up around your hips, before the effort of it unlocks a well of tears; a flash of a memory of being six years old and left to fend for yourself for the first time in a fight to tug on tights for school.

It’s not that you’re so inebriated that you can’t take off your stockings, though it certainly doesn’t help. It’s that once you get the fabric rolled down to your skinned knee, a new wave of nausea overcomes you. You can feel the mesh of the tear sticking to the gooey wet parts of the wound, and your mind reels with the dizzying thought that if you tug anymore, you’re going to make it worse. Take more skin off. Bleed all over Adrian’s bedsheets. Throw up again, probably.

It’s just for a brief second, you don’t let the feeling last too long, but-- the quick snatch and tug of the nylon on the tattered skin of your knee reminds you of one of the Saw movies, and how one of the traps involved gluing some poor fuck’s bare back to the driver’s seat of a car. And the way he had to peel off the seat, screaming and sweating, struggling to reach the -- the brakes? The gas? -- just to try to save some girl’s life. The stretch of skin, the vivid gleam of blood, your memory no doubt enhancing the gore of the scene in a new wave of despair.

When Adrian turns around, he finds you with your face hidden in the cusp of your palms, stockings only rolled down to the tops of your knees. Your dress is still bunched up around your hips, and maybe you should feel exposed, sitting on Adrian’s bed with your thighs bared. Embarrassed, even. But between the ick in your stomach and the sour taste at the back of your throat and the headache that begins to pulse behind your eyes like remnants of the bassline from the club, you don’t have any room to care. 

(And, admittedly. You don’t think you’d mind Adrian seeing this much of you. Under different circumstances, at least.)

You sense him hovering closer, probably paused at the sight of you all pathetic on his bed. Or the bare flesh of your thighs, more likely. Something unintelligible is mumbled into your hands in an attempt to draw his attention. Let him know you’re aware of his presence, and that you’re lucid, at the very least.

“Sorry- what?”

You sniffle, before mustering up the strength to raise your head up. But only enough to stare at his feet. “I can’t- My tights. I can’t… take them off.”

You watch as his scuffed up shoes approach you. Absently, you think about how Adrian hasn’t worn these before, even though it’s gotten cold. And, oh, they’re probably just part of his Vigilante costume. 

Ah. Vigilante. Adrian. 

“Whoa… what do you mean?” Adrian crouches down, his bespectacled gaze in your sight, and you realize the quick, short breaths you hear are your own. “Are you going to cry again? I have tissues here on my nightstand- for, like, normal reasons. Nothing gross. Ignore the lotion.”

There’s a very small part of you that knows this would have -- should have -- made you laugh. It’s the part of you that feels detached from this whole experience, as if watching from outside of your body. Like a muted, sober-ish ghost that can’t do anything but observe. Helpless. Unable to keep you safe.

You can’t even take off your fucking tights by yourself.

“The- the cut on my knee,” you attempt to warble through your explanation. “It’s, um- it feels weird. I don’t think I can take off my tights…”

“Well, we have to dress the wound otherwise it might get infected.” Adrian pauses, raises his hands so they hover over your lap. “Is it okay if I..?”

When you nod -- shakily, fearfully, desperately -- his hands continue their journey to your right thigh. His middle and forefingers, surprisingly gentle, slip into the scrunched up fabric at the base of your knee, and a shiver runs down your spine at the feel of his hands there. There is a feeling that slowly blooms in your chest at the sight of Adrian on his knees for you, taking care of you. But it’s being overshadowed by the anxiety gripping your throat and making your head spin in anticipation of the potential pain to come from your tights being ripped from your bloody knee.

No longer able to keep upright, you gracelessly plop back into the soft sheets, ceiling swaying in your vision. You make no effort to get back up; not like you wanted to watch the horror of Adrian potentially ripping the skin off your knee.

His voice, with a touch of anger that’s still unusual to hear, cuts through the haze of worry. “I hate those motherfuckers for doing this to you.”

A humorless, breathy snort escapes at that, shame sapping the energy out of you. “That wasn’t their fault,” you mumble. “‘M not tryin’ to defend them or anything, but it was my stupid, drunk ass that tripped and got myself into this whole mess…”

Because the truth is, if you hadn’t drunkenly stumbled down the wrong street when trying to find your Uber, if you hadn’t worn heels that don’t feel natural on your feet anymore, if you hadn’t felt so anguished and lonely that you sought solace in a few too many cocktails-

If you had just been a better friend to the people that made your high school years bearable, you wouldn’t have been crowded and overpowered by strange men with horrifying intentions. 

“Were you… by yourself?” Adrian’s voice carries over you while he’s still somewhere at your knees. “Where were those friends of yours? The ones you were meeting up with?”

The heels of your palms dig furiously into your closed eyes until you’re seeing black and red and you’re sure your eyeballs are just about to successfully squish into your skull. “They never showed up,” you admit, hoarsely, dejectedly.

Moments pass. There’s this light, almost lulling feeling, the tug and pull of your right leg. If you weren’t drowning in the barrage of negative thoughts and guilt and the kind of worthlessness that only creeps up on you in your own bedroom, you’d find Adrian’s ministrations comforting. 

“Don’t get mad, but it doesn’t sound like they were very good friends if they abandoned you to drink alone at club a in a sketchy neighborhood.”

But isn’t that what I deserve?

See- 

You left. Most people did after high school, but you made it a staunch point to never come back. 

You didn’t mean to abandon the friends you made in Evergreen. But life went on, and time passed quicker than you could make sense of, and fuck if you didn’t find any excuse to not come back home during breaks -- internships, supposedly important trips for school, job-hunting, moving in with your first love -- all so you could prolong seeing your family again.

What’s so bad about them, anyway?

They make me feel-

A sharp sting of pain rips you out of dark muddled thoughts, hissing through clenched teeth as you shoot into an upright position, lurching forward. 

“Sorry, sorry! But I did warn you.”

Oh, right. Adrian. You’re in Adrian’s bedroom, and he’s currently at your knees, hair still rumpled and eyes shining bright and concerned behind his glasses. And… he’s holding an alcohol pad. And your knee is…

“You got the tights off?” you ask in breathless disbelief.

“Yeah. I had to cut it up, though.” He grimaces. “Sorry. But it was already torn, so…”

Sure enough, the area around your knee is now fully exposed and free of any sticky mesh. The cut was beginning to scab over, but the alcohol pad made it newly shiny. It stings, but at least it doesn’t look like whatever nightmare scenario you’d been afraid of.

Adrian continues cleaning up and bandaging your wound as you look away, too light-headed to watch him work. It’s not until he’s gently pressing a bandage to your knee that you finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you were even holding. 

“There, all done.” Adrian stands, gathering everything up with careful, unrushed movements. “Let me get you something to sleep in.”

“Huh?” You blink up at him, confused. 

He’s rummaging through a dresser drawer, back turned to you when he responds. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to fall asleep in ripped clothes.” Turning around with some folded clothes in his hands, he continues, “I don’t imagine it’d be very comfortable. Plus, what if you wake up, not remembering what happened--you know, because of the drinking-- and you’re in my bed with a ripped dress? How does that make me look? It’d be pretty hard to convince you I didn’t do anything to you.”

He hands you the clothes--a big soft tee-shirt and sweatpants--and turns to leave. There is a cacophony of feelings clamoring around in your head and in your heart, and you find yourself helplessly overwhelmed once again but also, endlessly grateful for this man that saved your life. Not just tonight, but the night he stepped into your cafe painfully close to closing and made things feel silly and good again. 

“Adrian?” you softly call out as he turns to leave you to change.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re my best friend.”

Something expands in his chest when Adrian hears those words come out of your mouth. Like a frog puffing up with a croak, or a balloon that’s filled to bursting but doesn’t want to pop. He thinks he was a kid the last time he actually heard someone tell him, to his face, that he’s their best friend.

Sure, the admittance wavered out in an alcohol-infused breath, and he’s not sure how much you had to drink tonight but it may be enough to forget this moment.

But he wasn’t drinking. He’ll hold onto this moment forever.

A smile grows crooked on his face as he hovers by the door, meeting your gaze. “Yeah?”

You nod, holding the clothes handed to you lamely in your lap. There’s something glum about the sag of your shoulders, but he can’t think about that too much in his rush to assure you that you’re his best friend, too. Top 3, definitely.

This makes you snort, which he counts as another win for the night since it’s the first sound of laughter he’s heard since finding you in the alley.

He finally leaves you to change, and to get some much needed rest, and grins from ear to ear at the knowledge that the person he’s liked since high school is in his bed tonight.

Despite the comfort of Adrian’s tee-shirt, the smell of him in his clothes and sheets, the softness of it all wrapped around you, you do not sleep well.

You dream of dark alleyways and even darker figures crowding you, overpowering you. Limbs boneless, unable to fight back. When you scream, it’s not loud enough. There’s a thumping bass reverberating off brick walls that drowns out your cries for help. 

It’s frustrating. This powerlessness. The feeling of utter uselessness, frightening to your core. 

Then, the dream shifts. You are no longer being crowded and pinned by the shadowed figures, yet fear still grips you, clings to your skin, hot and wet- when you look down, the sticky wet feeling isn’t fear but blood, splattered all over your clothes and dripping from your arms. You want to feel triumph, search for the feeling in the recesses of your brain, you want so badly for that to replace the anxiousness gripping your lungs now that you’re free.

But when you look back up, you see viscera-laden bricks. Bodies with holes where they shouldn’t be, missing pieces. This is still a nightmare.  A familiar voice, tainted by something dark and unrecognizably sinister, laughs at the mouth of the alley. It’s another shadowy figure, red visor glowing in your direction. “You’re okay now,” he says, tone unsettling, too-chipper. “They’re all dead!”

taglist: @whatevermonkey @nobodys-baby-now @hiddlebatchedloki @pokoyolfhw

[aerodaltonimperial]

trick or treat! happy halloween ^_^ 🍫 - spooky any chrono or wrestling ship you like

(ALSO LATE, BUT IT WORKED IN MY FAVOR CAUSE I COULD TIE IN LAST NIGHT LOL)

The floor is sticky and wet when Jack finds his way into the janitor's closet. It smells, too; people don't really convey that on television in police procedurals or horror movies, but blood pooled smells, overwhelmingly so, and the rotting tang of it makes his eyes prick. He picks his way around the mop - ironic to have that so close to where it's needed - and finds himself staring down at Darby's wide, unseeing eyes.

Jack pauses for a moment, before sighing and leaning over the man's fucking corpse. The knife handle's so slick that it takes three times to get his fingers wrapped tight enough around the carvings to jerk it out from between Darby's ribs. Darby starts sputtering as soon as it's free, blood spraying out from between his lips, while Jack wipes the blade of the weapon against his jeans. At least they're black: decent coverage.

"What'd you do, stop for coffee?" Darby rasps, pressing his hand against his sternum as his muscles knit themselves back together.

"Has anyone told you recently that you're a fucking idiot?" Jack asks.

Darby pushes up on his elbows, which puts that stupid coat right in even more of the blood. Christ. The whole thing's a lost cause at this point. Jack hopes he's got more than one of those at home. "Fuck off."

"Seriously, you just descended from the rafters on top of them. What did you think they were gonna do?" Jack rolls his eyes, and hopes that Darby can see it in the dim light streaming in from the hallway beyond the open door. "Dumbass. They know they can just get their violent kicks out on you without repercussions."

Darby stands up and winces; the action pulls on his greasepaint, twisting it a bit. "Consecrated knife, too. Fuckers are getting smarter."

"Unlike you," Jack points out, and is ignored. "You know, at some point, I'm not gonna be here when someone decides to shatter every bone in your body. Then what are you going to do? Word's gonna get out further."

"Worried about me?" Darby arches both eyebrows at him. At least he's shrugging off his blood-soaked coat. Hopefully he's gonna dump it in the nearest trash can. "That's sweet."

"If I could kill you permanently, I would have done it by now."

Darby grins at him and reaches out to swipe his palm across Jack's face, the lower half of it; he's got blood all over his fingers, and it streaks across Jack's beard. "You like me too much."

"That is not even remotely true."

"You came to find me, didn't you?"

Jack sighs. "That's just because I'm also an idiot. Also, your blood stinks when it leaves your body. Did you know that? Absolutely terrible."

Darby leans in and covers Jack's mouth with his own. He tastes like copper and slow-receding decay. It should be disgusting, but Jack lingers. He probably should have seen this coming. He's tracked down Darby's corpse too many times to avoid this.

When Darby pulls back, he's got some of the blood transferred over to his lips. He grins again, wider. "Anything else you wanna say? Insults? Threats? Lie about how much you can't stand me?"

"Your breath smells like you just died," Jack tells him. "Go brush your teeth."

"Ah." Darby's eyebrows wiggle. "And then what?"

"We're gonna have to put that—," Jack points at the coat, more red than pink now, "—in the fucking hotel bathtub to see how much of this shit we can wash out."

"Romantic."

Jack shakes his head. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," Darby says, teeth flashing bright. "But keep telling yourself that, if it helps you sleep at night."

[theinheriteddutchess]

Messy Christmas: The Perfect Hallmark Christmas Movie Fanfiction

(so sugarsweet/crazy you might want to rethink what you’ve done with your time)

(aka a pretty realistic summary of all Hallmark movies as a whole)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader, Ransom Drysdale x reader

Summary: imagine all Hallmark movies but then with Bucky and a little bit of Ransom...I seriously don't know how to summarize this. Just sit back read, and let the magic of Christmas flow through you.

Word count: 1680

No Warnings 👍🏻 (technically cheating, because; Hallmark🤷🏻‍♀️.) Also confusing options because I had to capture most tropes in one.

Notes: this was written last Christmas in fun and is therefore silly and not meant to be taken serious in any way. It was caused by a Hallmark challenge, and this just popped out. ... And then I also made that picture above🤦‍♀️👍🏻

Only for the most hardened readers... You might regret this but you are an experience richer... Not a good experience but let's face it, can it get worse then this? It can only go up from here. 🫣

🌲☃️🍪🎄🫂🕯️❄️

You had forgotten how small the town was. 

You had left 10 years ago for a reason, you needed to get out of there. Spread your wings and have opportunities you'd never get there. Sure, you loved your family, but you could do that at a distance, only a phone call away. Besides, they weren't going anywhere, no one was down here. Except you. 

Sometimes you felt a little guilty, it wasn't your fault you were amazingly talented at business, unlike the rest of your town, but you realized they just missed you, because you were a really nice person. No one in your new town thought so, because everyone else was also busy with business, and not busy with people, but luckily you had met the second love of your life, Ransom.

Ransom and you had met at his business, when he tried to make a deal with yours, and it was love at third date. He was a little boring at times, with the routine he kept at all times, but his hair and clothing sense was spectacular! You really fell for *insert haircut* and his perfect white teeth. In return he liked your work ethic and your cozy but clean apartment that didn't have any personal decorations.

It all went perfectly, he had even proposed, just before the phone rang and informed you of an emergency in your old town. It was a shock to find out your dad got sick/your family tree business was failing/cookies needed to be baked for charity/the Christmas Parade needed to be handled, and only you had the skills to pull it off/you got fired at your job and had to go home to lick your wounds/your parents lied to trick you to come back/you needed something from someone else to succeed more at your current business. There was barely time to say yes to your now fiance, before you booked your ticket and went straight to the airport.

The trip only seemed to be about 10 minutes, which was lucky because you needed to be home soon, but you had just enough time to reminisce about your past. All the faces of old friends popped up inside your brain like a weird montage reminding  you of all the things you had tried to forget.

Then you arrived home.

Nothing changed, including your bedroom. Everyone had remembered what an amazing person you were and was very glad to see you back, almost like they'd been stuck in time waiting for your arrival. This made you feel warmer than ever, a feeling you had forgotten all these years, but you also reminded yourself you had business to return to.

Oh and a fiancee. But you hadn't told your family yet, surely there was time for that later? You weren't even sure if you were going to invite everyone to the wedding. They would probably not fit in with the rest of the well dressed people, so they probably didn't even want to come.

After walking through town - which took about 30 minutes and you basically met everyone right away who started bringing up old random, but cute, memories with you, causing you to smile so much it hurt the corners of your mouth and made you look slightly insane - you finally bumped into your old flame, Bucky.

Like literally bumped into him. It was weird because he hadn't been there a second before, but you might've been distracted by warm cozy feelings.

It was awkward at first, but also because all your old feelings caused you to have more feelings now! And you shouldn't because you were engaged, but no one knew that.

So when Bucky invited you for coffee/baking with his niece/helping with a show for the school/ice skating, you accepted.

Just like old friends!

Who used to fuck a lot. But just because you've seen him naked a lot, didn't mean you couldn't see him as a person, so you would see him exactly like that. A person with a brain and interests and feelings…just like the feelings you had for each other when you were younger…before you left town to grow up.

During the date, you kept gazing into his beautiful eyes, and smiling every time he said something funny. And you were genuinely happy, because it was so easy to be around Bucky, even if his hair was stylishly disheveled, and he wore a very simple sweater and boots that showed he wasn't paying 6 months paychecks for business clothes, but he was so kind and giving.

It seemed all his time was spent helping others! He was such a good person. You’d forgotten what it was like to not only be a nice person, but a giving person, and he had this sense of community you only ever had in this old town of yours.

And then you tripped and he caught you/you and him were left alone after family dinner he was also invited to - even if it was your parents house - and they were suddenly gone/you went outside to say goodbye while snow was falling around you, and he kissed you!

And you kissed back because you suddenly realized all those old feelings had come back.

And just when you were going to make a confession (perhaps about your fiance, but maybe just confess your eternal feelings; you didn't know), Ransom showed up.

It was so very awkward. Not even because of the kiss, but because he clearly didn't fit into the family. Suddenly he was rude and uncaring, said things you had also said before, but suddenly sounded worse coming from his mouth! And he seemed to look down on your family, perhaps because you had as well all these years, but now you were here and just been kissed by a hunk, this behavior was unacceptable!

You told him off, but he didn't get it. Even if you were very clear, suddenly his intelligence had left him and he had forgotten his manners too!

And then Bucky stepped in telling him off when Ransom was kind of slightly raising his voice - because you had been acting weird and weren't answering his questions what was going on - it wasn't like you were in danger since Ransom kept a good distance, and had never been violent and just seemed a little frustrated. But he figured out instantly what was going on. So he asked to talk to you privately.

And you two went alone, 2 meters away, so Bucky could listen in on the conversation, but also didn't seem to hear anything that was being said. He could see your expressions of heartache clearly though. The tears in your eyes, and eventually the hugging you did with your fiance.

He left with a very sad expression on his face while he walked home, where he soon arrived even if the distance should’ve been farther, and then sat alone in the living room, staring at a picture from when you were much younger and clearly happy.

But meanwhile you were looking for him because your fiance had just broken up with you, since he didn't know how to handle the fact you had feelings in general, but especially for Bucky. He left without saying goodbye to your parents, even if he only just arrived 2 hours before.

You found Bucky easily, because there had only been 3 settings where he could be. And when you arrived, your nose was so red from the cold, but in a cute way, not with snot running down your face and watery eyes. But in a glowing beautiful kind of way?

And Bucky was hesitant, because you had just broken his heart all over again, but your hopeful small smile gave him hope anyway.

You admitted to having been engaged, but you were not engaged anymore because you loved Bucky!

Then you were worried. What if he didn't love you back?

He had kissed you, but people did that all the time! Like when your boss’s assistant kissed him when he made a good deal. That didn't mean anything either, because he was married, so…

But then Bucky stared into your eyes from really uncomfortably close, and told you he had always loved you, since you were kids.

You wondered for a moment if he had even been with anyone else, with how intense he was speaking. If he had always only loved you, and was kind of hoping you came back all this time…jeez he was going to pop as soon as you grabbed him!

But your thoughts halted when he kissed you again. He was a very good kisser, and there was a lot of kissing and did you hear music somewhere??

Next thing you knew it was a year later and you and bucky were at your parents for another Christmas. Hadn't you just celebrated Christmas? Bucky was again kissing you, and then finished with a very sweet kiss to your ringed hand, showing you had gotten married. And your kid looked just like Bucky. You just hoped it was going to have the same caring helping personally their father had! And his baking skills. And his handyman skills. And his ice-skating skills. And his Theatre skills. And his Christmas trees selling skills.. And his- your mother put a cookie into your mouth unexpectedly, causing you to focus on nibbling on it, without ever really eating it.

And you were very happy with your love. You'd given up your business to start a bakery/run for mayor/start the same business in this town/working for prosperity for the whole town/be a family woman.

With Bucky by your side you'd never want for anything, and now you always kept smiling this wide smile, a smile that hadn't yet reached your eyes.

Perfect.

The End.

[sailorplanet1997]

The Secret Of The Wings is my second favourite

and it's most likely for this, the bond between Tinkerbell and Periwinkle and i can actually relate to this because i have a(n) (older) sister myself, we don't always get along but i don't even want to think about losing a sister over something for whatever happens i mainly watch this movie for this but there are other things what i love about this movie Tinkerbell's curiosity about the winter woods, winter clothes on warmer fairies, Tinkerbell dealing with stuff (despite The Lost Treasure being my first favourite, Tink actually handled things better in THIS movie, especially when it involves Periwinkle, Tink isn't as angry like she used to in the earlier movies and she FACED the problems) the relationship between Queen Clarion and Lord Milori (speaking of that, there's a book coming out by next year based on them, i hope they makes a movie version from the book in the future) the relationship with Rosetta and Sled, it's like love at first sight for them both and i live for that unlike "The Lost Treasure" Tinkerbell's friends (except Terence unfortunately) appeared more, they were there to visit a doctor, at the Tinkers nook to work on a machine, when they saw Periwinkle, when they met her, when Periwinkle was in danger, when the sisters got confronted by Lord Milori, the snowmaking machine to push it away (except Fawn and Silvermist), when the freeze have started they got the animals to safety (except Vidia), when all the other winter fairies comes to help to save the pixie dust tree from the freeze, after the freeze was over when Tinkerbell broke her wing and got healed and last but not the least the epilogue scene (i did wished warmer fairies did something to save pixie hollow from freezing, NOT just the winter fairies) Fawn appeared slightly more then Tink's other friends like she appeared with a bunny and even appeared first before the others, when Tinkerbell helped Fawn with the animals and crossed in that same scene Fawn had to bring Tink to the doctor and last one when she watched closely along with the Tinker fairies and Queen Clarion how Periwinkle, Gliss and Spike tries to save the pixie dust tree on their own during the freeze i loved how Tinkerbell's friends was concerned for her (even a fairy who used not to care for Tinkerbell untill the human event have happened was very concerned for Tinkerbell and this is showed with the doctor scene, after helping Tinkerbell to bring Periwinkle back to the winter woods and when Tinkerbell broke her wing, this person took it the hardest from like everybody except Periwinkle who was even more upset about Tink's broken wing...you can guess which one i'm talking about) even Vidia appeared in this movie as a supporter character (knowing Disney or even outside Disney who have a habbit of using characters as a background character after having important role in certain previous movies or seasons) and she stayed in its further movies (even the final movie one but not like it used to like in some other movies) there are 2 minus and my main bother was Terence wasn't even there just when Tinkerbell needed him the most (and i blame Disney for this, he's literally one of Tink's best friends and i can imagine he takes it the hardest out of everybody when Tinkerbell broke her wing since he obviously have a crush on her, he's most likely the reason Tinkerbell stayed in pixie hollow TWICE so it's only fair to include him as a supporter character instead of using him as a background character) i don't understand why he got credited, he didn't had any single speaking roles, he appeared only 2 times, i really hated that, why not atleast help her with the snowmaking machine or something? or like help Tinkerbell to push the snowmaking machine away? like i understand he had work to do and stuff but he would've noticed the snow in pixie hollow, he's really excluded in this movie (if he can't be in the movie that much, atleast do something like they did in "The Great Fairy Rescue" with a few speaking roles atleast)

my another flaw on this movie are the winter fairies one and the minister of winter, if you watched the first movie you see Tinkerbell, Clank and Bobble flying to the winter woods when giving her a tour on pixie hollow and they had no troubles flying over there and the winter fairies were on the warmer side and they had no troubles there neither, what happened to that? nothing can beat "The Lost Treasure" movie but this movie is my next favourite, i think this is the highest rank in general along with "The Pirate Fairy" movie, most of the votes goes for these 2 movies and i can't blame them for ranking it higher

[piratekane]

I'll play the sentence starter game: 13. “Just let me take care of you.” Avatrice obvs. Bonus points if it's Ava saying that to Bea but really whatever you want pls and thank you

On the third day, God created the dry ground, seas, plants, and trees. On the third night, Beatrice has a nightmare.

It doesn't wake Ava at first. Bea isn't thrashing, keening in the moonlight that filters through the dirty window Ava can't quite get the grime off of. But something wakes Ava, an uneasiness that works its way into her dreamless sleep and pulls her from its depths. She blinks at the dark ceiling and she thinks, I'll just go back to sleep, when the hard point of Bea's shoulder comes into focus.

She hears Bea push a single, shaky stream air out and she frowns at the sound, unused to the shift from Bea's steady inhale-exhale. But when her eyes cut to the side, expecting Bea's face, smoothed by sleep, to be facing her - and it's a wonder, to know that Bea is watching her even in her sleep - she finds Bea staring directly at the ceiling instead, eyes wide and unblinking.

Ava lifts up slightly, hair long and tangled around her shoulders. "Bea?"

Beatrice inhales sharply and Ava watches her eyes dart anxiously in her direction, a silent plea that Ava can't quite make out in the darkness. She starts to come further into focus: shoulders pulled up to her ears, knuckles white where her hands twist the sheets, body coiled tight enough to make Ava want to scream, a wet streak down from the corners of her eyes where they fall into her hair.

"Bea," she whispers.

The halo hums mournfully in her skin. She lifts a hand slowly, her palm hovering in the space between them before she eases those few inches closer to Bea. Dark eyes track her fingers nervously. "Bea, breathe."

But just as her fingers set to land - a whole palm to where Bea's heart is surely beating a hundred miles a second, if the wild look in her eyes matches the racing in her chest - Bea's mouth opens in a wide gasp that steals the air out of the room and out of Ava's lungs. Bea's body bends, legs kick out, hands twist in the sheets, hair whips into the air and then there's nothing but the sound of quick feet moving out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

She's alone.

The bathroom door doesn't slam - Beatrice has too much restraint for that. But it can't muffle the sound as a body sinks back against the door and to the floor. Ava doesn't think twice, doesn't think about Bea's privacy, and slips out of bed after her. She slows down the last few steps before the bathroom door and stops just in front of it, hand hovering over the handle.

She doesn't know what to do. She's seen movies, heard stories, about comforting people. There are basic principles she thinks probably come naturally to her; she could always make Diego smile. But Beatrice is unlike anyone Ava has ever met before. There has to be a special way to navigate this, a certain trick she needs to try. She hasn't met many people, can count the ones who know her on two hands and two feet, but Bea is... not them.

So she presses her hand to the door and slowly sits down, twisting so her back is against it. She imagines Bea on the other side, sitting like she's sitting, forehead against her knees, arms wrapped around her legs.

"You don't have to say anything." Bea doesn't. "But... you don't have to hide around me. I know that I... I know that I seem like I might not be able to handle things, but I can. I want to."

She presses the point of her chin into the point of her knee; lets the pain flare for a second before the halo eases it away. "I know things have been... I know things aren't good. That we're hiding until they get better, but we have to rely on each other. It's just us, Bea. We're all each other has. And you've been... You've been so good to me. If I have to hide away here... There isn't any one else I want to do it with."

There's a sniffle, a slight scratch. Ava feels it bolster her.

"You told me to trust my team and you're my team. You're the only part of it I have left. You're..." She tries to quell this rushing feeling in her chest, but it threatens to ebb over anyway. "I'm glad it's you, though," she admits. "Because every step of the way, you've taken care of me. You've always made sure I was okay. It's like you already know when I need you."

No one has ever cared about me like that before stays unspoken between them. She's sure Bea knows.

"But I can be that person for you too. You can... you can lean on me. I'm here." Her voice shakes a little, the truth a little too much for her not to waver on. "I want to be your rock, because you're mine."

She takes a deep and turns, pressing her forehead to the solid wood. She hears quiet shuffling on the other side, pictures Bea rising up onto her knees as she reaches for the knob. "Bea, please," she breathes. "Let me take care of you."

The door opens.

[bardic-inspo]

Unsolicited Lore Dump

Thanks to the wonderful @paganwitchisis and @pinkberrytea for the tags! This is such a fun get-to-know you game!

Do you make your bed? No and I have no shame about it because I honestly don't really see the point. I straighten the covers at night before getting in.

Favorite number? Numbers greater than 10 with 2 in it! 12, 22, 32, etc.

What's your job? I work in HR, but not in hiring/firing/performance management. I do benefits administration, specifically for a closed pension plan. This means I work with a lot of retirees and older folks. I also work on transitioning active employees into retirement, benefits for beneficiaries when someone passes away, and setting up benefits splits resulting from divorces.

If you could go back to school would you? Not full time, no. I am too burnt out to flourish in that environment. I did 18 credits + two jobs my last three or so semesters of undergrad and that fried me something awful even this far removed from it. BUT, if I could cut my work schedule in half (without a drop in income) and take 1-2 classes at a time, I certainly would. I'd like to take foreign language classes, and I've always really love social sciences courses. I have a minor in poli sci that could be cool to turn into a complete degree/major.

Can you parallel park? Decently, yes. I could with my old compact car, but I'm much better now that I have a back-up cam.

Do you think aliens are real? Yes in the sense in that the universe is vast and it seems highly unlikely we're the only life forms in it. But I don't think it's anything like movies or video games might make it out to be. I think it's also possible that lifeforms used to exist elsewhere or will someday exist elsewhere but have either gone extinct or haven't yet emerged.

Can you drive a manual car? Nope, and I don't really have interest in learning.

What's your guilty pleasure? I'm working hard to have less and less guilt about any pleasures I have. But I suppose I'd say fanfic and hyperfixating on video game characters in general. Beyond just enjoying the game itself; really deep diving and getting sucked into a character or character(s) and running through rabbit holes imagining them in all sorts of scenarios, AUs, etc.

Tattoos? Yes! I have carpe diem on one foot, and a celtic triple spiral on another, gotten at age 18 and 19 respectively. I want to get a dragon someday, and have toyed with the idea of getting a 'sister' tattoo with it of willowherb (said to be the first sort of plant that comes back after a forest fire). I've also toyed with the idea of the dragon in more of a resting position, breathing to life a little campfire.

Favorite color? Purple or blue. I also like winey colors (reds and purples)

Favorite types of music? My music taste is incredibly eclectic, but I'd broadly say pop rock or pop punk.

Do you like puzzles? Sort of! I like ones that are hard enough to make me feel smart. I get easily frustrated by things I can't figure out somewhat quickly, though. I enjoy sudoku.

Any phobias? I struggle with bugs, though I've gotten marginally better over time and can handle small spiders on my own, now. Due to a real, real rough apartment experience, I generally freak out about mice as well. I can keep my cool if they're in an enclosure like in a pet store, though I don't like looking at them there, either. I also have a recurring dream about accidentally driving off a cliff and so I get super tense and nervous driving on bridges.

Favorite childhood sport? Swimming.

Do you talk to yourself? In the car, or if I'm alone for a longer period of time. I work from home on Mondays/Fridays and find myself doing it more often those days.

What movies do you adore? Oh gosh, I honestly don't often rewatch movies, I'd generally prefer to watch something new instead. But uh, the LotR trilogy is pretty precious to me. Dune 2 was great! I liked Get Out and Nope. I remember liking Dr. Sleep a lot, too, but I only watched it once and it's sort of a blur in my memory. Recently watched Saving Private Ryan for the first time and it kind of fucked me up. I'm pretty eclectic in what I like with movies.

Coffee or tea? Black coffee. Death before decaf.

First thing you wanted to be growing up? I think maybe an author. Also a fairy godmother for a long time. I still kinda wanna be both.

No pressure tags!: @electricshoebox, @halkuonn, @snowfolly, @tragedybunny, @tallymonster,

@scrytpe, and @mutualcombat <3

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 20 - Self Control

IN THIS CHAPTER: The last high school party, apple flavored Kool-Aid, and Andy gets what he deserves [10.3k]

WARNINGS: underaged drinking, mentions of drug use (weed), slut shaming, a little misunderstanding (gets resolved really quickly), suggestive themes? (very mild, eddie's just a little bit wired, okay?)

A/N: i know i'm a day late, i'm sorry T.T someone got fired at my job and i'm supposed to handle their shit now because my boss is kinda cheap. it is what it is. BUT. hopefully this chapter makes up for my tardiness because as you can probably tell from the banner, the slow burn is officially boiling, you guys! enjoy <3

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

In the night, no control Through the wall something's breaking

Saturday, May 31st - 1986

Dottie was pacing like a nervous dog in a cage, feet hitting the soft rug in front of her closet with each step she took. It was the first Saturday in a long time that she hadn't spent in a blissful domestic bubble with Eddie and she was feeling downright antsy. The night before, once Hellfire had officially said goodbye to its Class of '86, the two teens had sat themselves in a booth at the back of The Hideaway with burgers, fries, and milkshakes, and something had finally clicked into place for her. There was no longer a specific need for them to spend so much time together anymore - no more exams to study for, no more books to read or worksheets to fill, and yet there they were still, on a Friday night, getting food together like usual. Sitting opposite of Eddie in that booth, watching him try to lick ketchup from the corner of his mouth and not reaching the smudge with the tip of his tongue, it dawned on Dottie that she had never loved anyone the way she loved him.

It wasn't that Dottie hadn't loved throughout her life, because truthfully she had. She had loved her Dad first, tiny fingers wrapping around a big thumb when she was just a few hours old. She'd loved her Grandparents, all four of them equally, but maybe no one should tell them that Grandma Jo leaving after a visit would always cause the biggest sobs to escape her tiny toddler body. She'd loved her Uncle Johnny, always cuddling up to him while they lived together, not really understanding that he wasn't actually her Uncle until it was too late to start calling him anything else. She'd loved her friends back in New York, even though she knew now that they hadn't loved her back in return. Hell, she'd loved Tyler, or else it wouldn't have hurt as much as it did when he broke her heart. Dottie wasn't someone that didn't know what loving meant or felt like, but the way she loved Eddie was unlike any other kind of love she had ever experienced before, and she knew she had to tell him sometime soon or she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

But first, there was prom, and graduation, and most pressingly, a party for which she had absolutely no idea of what she was going to wear, hence the continuous pacing. James, tired of hearing the back and forth on the wooden floors for the last fifteen minutes, came into his daughter's bedroom resigned to play stylist for the night like he'd done so many times before. Keeping up with the latest trends for the sake of his little girl was a full time job he had long ago learned to love.

"Do you know what Nancy is gonna wear?" he asked, sitting down at the end of Dottie’s bed.

"No, I didn't think to ask. But she always looks so pretty, Dad, I can't look like a bum."

"How about you tell me what you don't want to wear and we can start from there, okay?"

Thirty minutes later, Dottie had an outfit laid out where James had been sitting and she was doing her makeup in a hurry before Nancy picked her up. The plan was simple: go to the party, say hi to Chrissy and thank her for the invite, hang out with Nancy for a bit, meet up with the boys, and if the party sucked, head over to Jeff's for a movie night. He'd rented Ghoulies and Weird Science for the weekend and he still hadn't seen either, so it seemed as good a backup plan as any. Besides, movie nights had always meant sharing a blanket with Eddie and cozying up to him when she got sleepy. No matter what ended up happening, she knew her night wouldn't be completely terrible.

"Honey? Are you done yet? Nancy is here!" James yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll be down in a second!" she hurried to put on her clothes and ran down the stairs to meet her friend, crossbody bag bouncing behind her and hitting her backside.

She found Nancy politely making small talk with her Dad on the foyer; James had gone to school with her mom Karen and had fond memories of sharing a desk with her throughout their many years at Hawkins’ various academic buildings. They hadn't exactly been friends, but they always were on good terms and had even worked on a few projects together, namely one about growing sprouts from beans in mason jars when they were in middle school.

"Hey! Sorry for making you wait," Dottie said, stopping to hug Nancy who was better prepared to receive it than she had been in the school’s bathroom a day before.

"You're fine, don't worry about the time," Nancy reassured her. "There aren't any schedules to keep at these parties, everyone just comes and goes when they want to."

"Oh, good to know that we can just leave whenever if it sucks."

"Speaking of that," James said, getting his daughter's attention. "Call me if you're staying at Jeff's, okay? I'll come pick you up tomorrow."

"Donny can drop me off, you don’t gotta come," she waved her hand nonchalantly.

"Okay, but call me anyway so I know where you are. Take care you two, don't get too wild."

"Dad, seriously," Dottie rolled her eyes, exasperated but not without fondness. She knew he worried too much, but after all they’d been through, she couldn't blame him.

"Have a good night, Mr. Burke, it was nice to meet you," Nancy said, heading out with Dottie at her heels.

"You too, Nancy. Say hi to your parents for me, will you?"

The girls got into Nancy's car and drove away towards Loch Nora, the radio playing The Rolling Stones’ Harlem Shuffle softly in the background. They talked about random things, filling the empty space with the kind of anxious but lighthearted conversations one would have with someone they don’t know very well yet. So far their budding friendship had proved satisfactory for both girls, and they were willing to put in the effort to get to know one another better, even when that meant having to venture outside the comfort zone The Weekly Streak’s newsroom provided. During the ride Nancy complimented Dottie's outfit, and in turn, she had loudly admired hers, prompting the blue-eyed girl to admit she'd borrowed the shiny jacket with padded shoulders from her Mom’s wardrobe. After a good-natured laugh, Dottie admitted she had stolen her dress from her Mom’s closet too and Nancy told her her Mom had good taste. When they parked across the street from Jason Carver's house however, the friendly chatter ceased and both girls stared at the two-storey rising in front of them with apprehension.

"I'm so nervous," Dottie admitted, watching the colors spilling from the fairy lights inside the living room paint the veranda red, then green, then blue, and finally back to red.

"Me too," Nancy said, taking a shaky breath. "But we got this. How bad can it be?"

"Yeah. You’re right. It’ll be fun," Dottie nodded, and arm in arm they ventured inside the packed house in search of good old teenage normalcy.

Neither Nancy nor Dottie were having the slightest bit of fun. After a few shouted-over-loud-music hellos to some familiar faces, they had found themselves in Jason’s kitchen, nursing cups of a strange brown concoction that didn’t smell good and tasted even worse. Dottie wasn’t much of a drinker, and apparently Nancy wasn’t either, citing that the last time she’d gotten drunk, she’d embarrassed herself so badly she’d rather not have a repeat. The jocks and popular kids disagreed heavily with that assessment, and were having a lot of fun with two kegs in the backyard next to the pool. Dottie had suggested they venture out, sit by the water where it wasn’t as stuffy, but Nancy had quickly directed her into the kitchen where they ran into Marcie Hurley, an acquaintance from the newspaper club. Marcie was a lovely tall girl with a bold pixie cut; she was currently slightly intoxicated but full of ideas for stories to run in the last edition of The Weekly Streak before summer holidays started. Nancy pretended to listen to her with her utmost attention, but Dottie could tell by the way her eyes were glazed over that she was definitely calculating how much more she’d have to hear before she could get away without coming across as rude. Two girls Dottie didn’t know walked into the kitchen searching for something fruity to drink when they said something that caught her attention.

“What do you mean Munson said no?” one of the girls was saying.

“He said he wasn’t selling tonight! Which is honestly such bullshit, he was smoking with some other guys, he definitely had something on him,” the second girl said, pouring vodka into a cup.

“Show him your tits, maybe he’ll share with you.”

“Ew, I’m not that desperate!” the first one laughed loudly.

Dottie scowled immediately. She’d once gotten curious about him dealing and asked him a couple of questions, like how did he get into selling and if he was allowed to smoke his own product. Eddie hadn’t been particularly proud of his answers, but she told him she didn’t mind: the money helped pay for some bills around the trailer and put food onto their table. It wasn’t like he was dealing hard stuff or was some kind of mafia lord moving tons of product, for fuck’s sake. People talked about him like he had his thumb on the illegal underground in Hawkins when in reality, he was just a teen selling weed and a couple of pills here and there to a few fellow students at parties. Dottie hoped he’d never done something as gross as asking a girl to show him her body in exchange for a couple of hits of a shitty joint. She liked to believe she knew Eddie, and in her opinion he’d never do something like that, but teenagers had never been particularly known for making good choices. Nancy was already looking at her when she turned around, a knowing smile on her face. She nodded towards the door once, and after a whispered “thank you” off Dottie went in search of her friends.

The boys were enjoying the fresh air and sharing a smoke on the veranda at the front of the house, not really ready to go inside and face the music just yet. Donny had picked up Gareth and Jeff on his way to the party, but Eddie had arrived solo just a few minutes after them. They were talking about music, as they often did, when Dottie opened the front door and jumped on Jeff’s back, who flinched in surprise.

“Fucking hell, Dot, you’re gonna kill me someday if you keep doing that,” he said, rubbing his chest.

“I was worried you guys weren’t gonna show up,” she admitted, hanging onto his shoulders. He leaned his weight into her, hands wrapping around her loose wrists like they were backpack straps to keep her in place as they swayed side to side.

“Party sucks that much?” Donny asked, passing along the joint to Gareth.

“I mean, it’s not like I know a lot of people here. I’ve been hearing Nancy talk to other girls all night, and I think she’s as fed up as me.”

“Wanna ditch?” Jeff asked.

“We’re not leaving until I drink my fuckin’ weight in rich people’s beer,” Gareth declared, giving the cig to Eddie who took a long drag and put the roach out on the underside of the railing he was leaning against.

“If you want beer, there are a bunch of cans in the kitchen but you gotta fish them out of the cooler and someone spilled something green in there. It’s kinda gross,” Dottie grimaced.

“What? No keg?”

“Actually, there’s two in the backyard but the basketball team took ownership of one and I think the football team was doing handstands on top of the other one.”

“That’s so fucking lame,” Donny scoffed.

“Well then, who’s down for fishing?” Jeff looked at the guys, and Gareth shrugged, putting his hands in his jean pockets and following him inside.

“You coming?” Donny asked Eddie who didn’t move from his spot.

“Nah, gonna smoke a cig first. You go ahead,” he said, getting his Camels out of his front pocket.

Donny headed back inside and then it was just Dottie and Eddie under the moonlight, the tiny lamp above the front door doing nothing to shield them from the darkness. Eddie smiled, putting the cigarettes back in his pocket and opening his arms so Dottie could sheepishly tuck herself into him. She felt like she could finally breathe easy when feeling his chest rising up and down under her cheek, his warmth seeping into her bones.

“Too many people?” he asked knowingly, cupping the back of her head with one of his hands. Her fingers drew patterns on the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Mhm,” she nodded. “This is nice.”

“Yeah? You like my shirt?”

“Smells good,” she laughed. He smelled like Old Spice aftershave and laundry detergent.

“Why, thank you for noticing I showered, princess,” he said, grinning. “You look pretty. This your Mom’s dress?”

“Yeah,” she beamed, looking down at her shift baby blue dress. “I didn’t know what to wear so I just played it safe. The socks are new though,” she lifted her leg to show her white ankle socks with frills under her black kitten heels.

“So cute,” Eddie pouted theatrically, making her slap his chest in return. “No, really. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” she settled back against him, cheeks burning.

They enjoyed each other’s presence for a few seconds when the front door opened with a bang, an overexcited and red-eyed Chrissy Cunningham spilling out from the inside, her giggles following her as she skipped towards them in tune with the music coming from the speakers in the living room.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, a mischievous grin gracing her fairy-like features.

“Hey, Chris,” Eddie smiled, still holding onto Dottie as she turned in his arms to take a look at the newcomer. “How was your latest purchase?

“It was so good. Valerie, Julie and I just smoked a joint each in the bathroom,” she whispered conspiratorially, making Dottie laugh.

“Oh my. What would Jason say if he knew you were hotboxing his shower?” Eddie matched her tone.

“What Jason doesn’t know won’t hurt him. D’you want to smoke with us later, Dot? Only girls allowed.”

“Sorry, I’m not really a smoker,” Dottie said, feeling a little bit dumb. “But I’ll take you up on that Queen song you promised me yesterday if you wanna dance.”

“Oh my God, yes!” Chrissy grabbed her arm and pulled her out of Eddie’s grasp. “She’s mine now, Ed!”

“I can see that. I’m gonna go get a beer,” Eddie said, following them inside. “Have fun, ladies!”

“We will!”

Weed affects different people in different ways. That was a fact Dottie knew after spending so much time with the members of Corroded Coffin, better known as her best friends. Donny was always virtually the same after a good session, just got very thirsty. Eddie would get deep and thoughtful, and once the effects were gone, he’d get so hungry he’d eat drywall if it was the only thing around. Gareth, like Chrissy, would get giggly once he hit that sweet spot. It was like drinking, Donny had told her once. Everyone had a different tolerance, and most of the time taking a few hits of a shared joint wouldn’t be enough to change anyone’s personality significantly. There were other people like Jeff, for example, who had a very low tolerance and had decided to stop smoking altogether after realizing he’d get panicky and his clothes would always start itching each time he indulged in the vice with his friends. None of them had ever questioned him or pressured him to smoke after that, the same way that they didn’t pressure Dottie to smoke or drink when they were doing it around her. They’d always smoke outside, and Dottie and Jeff were free to lounge around on the couch and talk about anything and everything until they all regrouped inside again. Watching Chrissy be so carefree and joyful made Dottie think that maybe she’d enjoy being invited to one of their movie nights some day.

Chrissy, on the other hand, was a girl on a mission. There were no movie nights being planned in her head; she was instead focused on getting information out of Dottie to relay to Eddie at his earliest convenience. Chrissy liked Dottie, she really did. She liked how kind and attentive she was despite always walking around with an anxiety cloud above her head. She liked how she dressed, with her vintage clothing and big earrings Chrissy couldn’t wear because it’d be dangerous for a cheerleader to be tossed around with hoops or fun acrylic shapes dangling from her ears. She liked how she made Eddie feel, and Chrissy liked Eddie very much, so that just cemented Dottie in her mind as a good person to have around. And so, the blonde lulled her into a sense of comradery with heartfelt compliments and wild dances, trying to get to the bottom of the question she’d had swirling around in her brain for two months now: do you like my friend or is he wasting his time to end with his heart broken? To her credit, what came out of her mouth was much more subtle than that.

“Eddie’s awesome, isn’t he?” Chrissy asked, casting her line into the sea and waiting for Dottie to bite.

“Yeah, he’s great!”

“He was so right about us being friends! I’m so happy you came!”

“Well, thank you for inviting me!” Dottie smiled at her, and Chrissy squeezed her hand in response.

The party was in full swing now. Nancy had found a couple of classmates she got along with and finally managed to escape Marcie’s insistent newspaper talk; she looked much more happy talking to them near the door to the backyard than she’d looked like back in the kitchen. Donny, Gareth and Jeff were fishing out beer cans from the cooler and passing them along to people that normally ignored them in the hallways, their bravery for sticking their hands into the horrid green liquid making them the heroes of underaged teens trying to get unbearably drunk before inevitably throwing up all over Mrs. Carver’s bushes. Eddie stood to a side, near the archway that led to the stairs where bubblegum pink eyeshadow Marianne from his Sociology class had just disappeared up to with his lovesick boyfriend trailing behind her, much to his friends’ jeers and claps. The metalhead had a barely sipped on beer in his hand and hearts in his eyes as he watched Dottie and Chrissy spin around in the middle of the living room, singing along to Top 40 hits and dodging couples making out.

Eddie had never felt happy at a house party before. He’d usually drop by, deal a little bit from the back of his van, and speed away either to Jeff’s house to hang out with his friends or back towards his trailer where he’d smoke and fuck around with his guitar until he’d fall asleep on his tummy with his jeans still on. But standing there, seeing his friends being treated like normal people instead of the dirt beneath a shoe, he felt happy at a party for once in his life. He felt like a normal teenager, like everyone else in the Hawkins High Class of ‘86 saying goodbye to a long school year and hello to the unforgettable summer ahead. Chrissy made a suggestive face at him while dancing around with Dottie and Eddie laughed.

“Hey, Munson!” a familiar voice said, coming to clap his shoulder and snapping him out of his trance.

“Hey, Foster. How are you doing?”

“Weird seeing you here,” Kyle Foster of the Yearbook Club said, looking friendly but fidgety. “You never sell inside at these things.”

“Not selling tonight, man. Just enjoying the beer,” he lifted his can above waist level to demonstrate.

“Ah, dude, that sucks. I had a twenty with your name on it,” he clicked his tongue. “But if our deal still stands, I guess in a couple of weeks you’ll have a bag with my name on it.”

“I’m a man of my word, Foster,” Eddie smirked, shoving his hand into his pocket. “But here, for your troubles.”

He produced a tightly rolled joint from inside his packet of Camels and extended it to Kyle, who looked at him like he’d grown two heads. Never in his entire time being Eddie’s customer had he sold him a pre-roll, much less one that he had intended to smoke himself at some point. He eyed him curiously, not making any moves to pluck it out of the dealer’s hand.

“You sure about that, Munson?” he asked, giving him the chance to recant his offer.

“Yeah, you can have it. I’m not gonna smoke it and I’m feeling generous tonight. Just don’t send anyone else my way, okay? It’s the only one I had.”

“Y-yeah, man, sure! Thanks,” Kyle smiled, grabbing his prize for holding a polite conversation with the town’s freak who felt like less and less of a monster as the school year came to a close. “Here, take the twenty anyways,” he pulled a single bill from his back pocket. “Sorry about, y’know, that whole thing. See you when the yearbooks come out!”

And with that, he shoved the note into Eddie’s hand and left towards the backyard, probably in search of a borrowed lighter to spark up in a corner of Jason Carver’s lush garden. Eddie looked down at his hand, snorted, and put the twenty bucks away to spend another day. Maybe he’d get Dottie a strawberry milkshake like he’d done the day before, only to watch her eyes light up at the first taste and indulge in her pleas because it’s so good, Ed, you gotta try this! They make them with real strawberries! Chrissy found his eyes again over Dottie’s shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him. He clutched his chest like he had been hurt by her, overdramatic as always, and Dottie twirled Chrissy around breaking their eye contact. The songs changed but the girls stayed dancing and he kept on watching them with a satisfied smile on his face. It was a shame, really, that Eddie often became blind whenever he saw the girl he was in love with being truly, completely happy, because if he didn’t, he would have noticed one Andy fucking Humphrey staring at him like he could make the dumb metalhead drop dead in a heartbeat just by looking at him.

Jason Carver wasn’t the typical high school bully you’d see in films. Truthfully, he wasn’t even a bully; he just kept quiet while his friends did all the fucked up things the basketball team was infamous for. He was known as someone who would fly off the handle quickly, but not without reason. He took freshmen and sophomores under his wing, taught them what being a good teammate looked like, gave them a family within the walls of Hawkins High as part of his team. Jason was, if anything else failed, extremely protective and fiercely loyal to his own, and expected the same considerations to be returned to him. So when Andy, one of his best friends since elementary, came running to tell him that The Freak of Hawkins High was trying to flirt with his girlfriend in front of everyone, Jason had no reason to doubt him. Why would he, when Andy had been nothing but reliable all this time?

“What do you think you’re doing, creep?” Jason told Eddie, his tone low, trying not to call too much attention to themselves. Chrissy didn’t need to see this, she didn’t have to know she was being ogled by a pervert under his own roof.

“Drinking your beer, Carver, what does it look like I’m doing?” Eddie said with a sour tone, and instantly knew that had been the wrong answer.

“Yeah? What makes you think you’re welcome in my house?”

“Chill, man, I got invited, same as everyone else.”

“Who would want you here?” Chance Peterson said, appearing at Jason’s shoulder. This was bad.

“Uh, his girlfriend? Just like everyone else?” Eddie deadpanned, putting his can of beer on a ledge and lifting his palms. “Look, I’m really not looking to cause any trouble tonight-”

“Why would Chrissy invite you? You aren’t friends,” Patrick asked, and Eddie held back a scoff. He was willing to bet he knew Chrissy, the real Chrissy, more than any of these meatheads did.

“She invited all the seniors, that’s all there is to it. I’m a senior too-”

“Yeah, a senior citizen, you freak,” Chance said. “Why don’t you go home early and leave us actual seniors alone, huh? What is this, your tenth time trying to graduate?”

“See Peterson, I always knew you didn’t know how to count, but didn’t think you would be so bad at it. Should have known though, it’s not like anyone expects you to do anything that isn’t playing around with your balls. Now why don’t you back off and let your captain here and I have a civil conversation, alright?” Eddie looked down at Chance who narrowed his eyes at him, but Jason threw his arm out to stop him from moving forward.

“We’re not having a conversation, Munson. Back off my girlfriend or leave.”

“I’m not interested in your fuckin’ girlfriend, Carver,” Eddie said, bewildered.

“You say that, but you sure were looking at her before we walked in,” Andy said, stepping around his friends to stand next to Jason. “Wanna explain that?”

“Is looking at someone a goddamn crime now? Can’t exactly leave my eyes at home, you dumbass,” Eddie said, getting loud.

“So you were looking at Chrissy!” Jason yelled.

“No, I wasn’t! Believe it or not, not everyone is fuckin’ in love with your girlfriend, man!”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Donny flanked Eddie, his voice booming over the sound of the music.

“Back off, dude, what’s your deal?” Gareth threatened Chance when he shoulder-checked him.

People were starting to catch on now, curious eyes looking around for the latest gossip. Jason and Eddie yelling at each other wasn’t exactly new, but both groups of friends having a screaming match at a house party? Now, that was juicy. As everyone started insulting and trying to intimidate each other, Eddie looked around trying to find Dottie in the crowd. She was still dancing with Chrissy, oblivious to the conflict, and now another cheerleader had joined them; he was pretty sure she was a junior and her name was Valerie.

“Hey! Stop looking at her, asshole!” Andy said, grabbing Eddie’s hair and turning his head back towards the imminent fight.

Andy’s voice was loud enough to startle the girls and make them look their way. Chrissy and Valerie paled instantly, hurrying forward to try to contain the scene before it turned truly ugly, leaving a path open behind them for Dottie to follow. Chrissy grabbed Jason’s arm and tried pulling him away when Eddie turned to Dottie and shook his head, his curls still in Andy’s grasp.

“It’s okay, Dot, stay over there!” he told her, not wanting to get her involved and hurt.

But it was too late, because Andy, as stupid as he was, caught on pretty quickly. He hadn’t recognized her before, all dolled up and giggly while she danced with Chrissy and Valerie. He’d simply assumed she was one of their friends, maybe even a junior he hadn’t really paid too much attention to while in school. Insistent on Eddie perving on Chrissy, he’d missed a crucial detail: that the unknown girl she was dancing with was the same girl that had threatened him in the AP Spanish classroom just a week ago. The same one that had told him to stay away from the Hellfire Club. That girl wasn’t Chrissy’s friend, she was a freak, merely blending in with the rest of the school population because she didn’t wear dark colors and leather. Andy turned on her so quickly she didn’t have time to heed Eddie’s warning before he was spewing venom towards her.

“I see now, freak,” Andy said, letting go of Eddie’s hair with a shove and stepping towards Dottie. “You weren’t looking at Chrissy, you were looking at your bitch.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Dottie said, angrily.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it? The freak’s little bitch. That’s why you came after me last week, huh?” Andy was seething. “Did he tell you to do that?”

“You brought that on your own by being a smug idiot,” she told him, not backing down from the fight even though she was terrified of him.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Patrick asked.

“This slut tried to tell Mr. Lorenzo that I cheated on a test if I didn’t leave her friends alone,” Andy explained, once again looking smug. Everyone was watching them now. “Said I was gonna lose my ride to college, acted all flirty and shit. What is it, honey? The freak not giving it to you good enough? Do they all share you, like the big whore you a-”

“Fuck!”

Dottie hadn’t hesitated. Instead, she’d just simply punched him right in the face with her right fist, thumb on the outside like her Grandpa Ken had taught her when they were boxing in his backyard one summer, hitting pillows and humming along to the Rocky theme song while Grandma Caroline made fresh lemonade. The crack that followed the punch was deafening. All chatter ceased and the music was turned off - if a needle were to hit the floor, it would have been so easily heard in the silence that followed her expletive. It had hurt for him, yes, something was definitely broken, but the impact on her knuckles had split the delicate skin covering them, not used to being treated so roughly by colliding against a jock’s bones. Andy pinched his nose with pain, blood starting to pour down his cupid’s bow.

“Wait, no!” Chrissy gasped, as Andy reached over to take someone’s beer can out of their hand and emptied it on Dottie’s head, throwing it away once it was empty. The metal clang on the floor until it hit someone’s shoe.

“What the fuck?” Gareth managed to say, before Eddie launched himself and pushed Andy away from Dottie who just stood there clutching at her hand and looking at the floor in shock.

Her Mom’s dress was ruined, sticky liquid dripping from her hair onto the soft fabric, staining everything as it went down, down, down onto her thighs and legs until it reached her socks. She smelled like an alcoholic and her fingers hurt. She felt empty, adrenaline leaving her body as she shivered while everything around her dissolved into utter chaos. The Hellfire Club and the basketball team were yelling and pushing each other once again, people rushing to get out of their way so they wouldn’t get hit. With the reflexes of someone used to being on alert, Nancy grabbed Dottie’s arm and yanked her aside just in time for Andy to push Eddie off himself and into a side table. Eddie hit the floor with a sickening crunch, but what made everyone stop the brawl was the sound of the lamp on top cracking into a million little pieces right next to the couch.

“Jason, stop this!” Chrissy pleaded, hanging onto his arm.

Andy, not one to be deterred, snapped his head towards Dottie, not caring that Nancy threw an arm out to cover her with her own body. He raised his hand, fully on board with hurting either of them to make a point, when Jason finally snapped into action and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into Patrick’s arms who instantly held him in place, Chance coming over to help.

“Are you crazy?” Jason yelled at his friend. “We don’t hit women!”

He turned just in time to see Chrissy helping Eddie up, the two of them muttering to each other softly, looking a lot more friendly than he liked. His eye twitched once and he looked at Hellfire as they huddled closer to each other and started inching towards the exit, Nancy and Chrissy herding them out.

“Get out of my fucking house!” Jason told them, like they weren’t already trying to leave.

“Gladly,” Donny said, closing the door behind them and shielding them from further aggressions.

“You guys, I am so sorry,” Chrissy was saying, not knowing who to direct it to first.

“It’s okay, Chris. Not your fault your boyfriend has shithead friends,” Eddie said, patting her shoulder in comfort.

“Still, I should have-,” she cut herself off because there was nothing she could have done; the basketball team and the Hellfire Club were destined to hate each other until the end of time. She turned to Dottie instead. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I think so. My hand hurts,” she sniffed. “I’m sorry we ruined your party.”

“Oh, please, that party sucked,” Chrissy snorted. “The most fun I had all night was when we were dancing with Val.”

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Donny said, guiding Dottie towards his car.

“I can drive her, I brought her here,” Nancy offered, giving him half a smile. She wasn’t friends with the guys, but she knew enough about them through Mike to have at the very least positive feelings towards them. Besides, it wasn’t like Jonathan hadn’t also been an outcast back when he was still in Hawkins. She knew what that was like.

“No, no,” Dottie hurried to say. “You should both go back to the party. Eddie can drive me, Don, I don’t want to ruin your car.”

“Are you sure?” Chrissy said, not wanting to leave her in such a vulnerable state.

“Yes, I’m sure. Go back inside, it’s your party,” she squeezed the blonde’s hand. “I had fun dancing with you, thank you for inviting me.”

“Maybe we can do it again some day? Just us girls?” Chrissy said, eyes full of hope.

“I’d love that,” Dottie said, and she really meant it.

“Okay, then… let’s go back inside, Nancy. Bye guys, drive safe,” Chrissy waved at them, pulling her cardigan closed and both girls disappeared back into the house.

“Is this a bad time to say that I stole a case of beers?” Gareth said, lifting a 12-pack and bringing some much needed humor to the situation.

“Let’s go back to mine then, we can sneak in through the basement door,” Jeff proposed, and Donny nodded.

“I’m… I’m gonna pass, guys,” Eddie said. “I’ll take her home and head back to the trailer. My ass kinda hurts.”

“Have fun without us, okay? I’m sorry I ruined it,” Dottie said, tears swimming in her eyes. Whether it was because of the shame or the pain in her hand, no one knew but no one asked her either.

“Hey now, you didn’t ruin anything. We’ve got an awesome story to tell the kids someday,” Donny laughed.

“Yeah! We’ll be like: Auntie Dot broke a jock’s nose back in high school because he called her names,” Jeff said, putting on an old man voice and Dottie chuckled wetly.

“Come on, let’s go,” Eddie said, guiding her towards his van with a hand on her lower back.

“I should sit in the back, I’m gonna get your seats dirty,” Dottie said.

“Don’t even think about it, there’s no seatbelts in the back,” he said, climbing in and rummaging around for the tarp they covered Gareth’s drumset with when they moved it for gigs.

The music from inside the house was booming again when Donny’s car pulled into the street and the boys left, saying goodbye by honking twice. Eddie covered the front seat with the tarp and helped her get in, clicking the seatbelt for her in place and jogging to get to the driver’s side. Dottie stared out the window as Eddie turned the van on and backed up into the street, waving at a defeated Chrissy who was looking out from the living room’s window. When Eddie stopped at the first intersection, Dottie turned to look at him.

“Ed?” she asked in a shaky voice. “Can you take me to yours instead?”

The trailer was empty with all the lights turned off when they arrived, which was unusual for a Saturday night. Wayne had always had weekends off, after all, he had a kid at home to take care of and nobody was an asshole enough to ask an old man to come in during his time away with his family. Still, as Eddie kneeled down next to the entrance to help Dottie undo her heel buckles, she looked around while holding onto his shoulders and found herself missing her Mr. Wayne. Eddie had asked her in the van why she didn’t want to go home, and she had simply replied she didn’t want to tell her Dad she’d gotten into a fight just yet. She’d failed to mention that she was expecting Wayne to give her the parental comfort she needed, but without the grounding she was sure she was gonna get from her own father.

“He’s at the plant,” Eddie said, guessing her silent inquiry. “He’s doing extra time this weekend so he can take a couple of days off for graduation.”

“That’s really sweet,” she smiled, stepping out of her shoes now that he’d gotten them unbuckled. The beer that had dripped down her legs had stained the tops of her socks.

“Wait here, okay? I’ll get the shower running for you, the knobs are… well, they’re stupid,” he shrugged with resignation. “You can call your Dad if you want, tell him where you are.”

He started the shower for her while she dialed home, James picking up after a few long rings. He listened to her talk quietly while getting her a towel and clean clothes; she hadn’t exactly asked, but Eddie got confirmation that she wanted to spend the night when he heard her lie to her Dad about being at Jeff’s and having a movie night. Eddie wasn’t about to complain about her not mentioning she was with him if it meant he could sleep next to her for a full night. He went back into the bathroom, lowered the toilet’s lid and put the things he’d gathered for her on top before opening the mirror cabinet and pulling out a new toothbrush along with a packet of makeup wipes. She hung up and walked into the small bathroom after him, looking at the items in his hands with a quirked eyebrow.

“I wear eyeliner for our gigs sometimes,” he admitted. “It always looks like shit, but if it’s good enough for Ozzy, it’s good enough for me.”

“Maybe I can teach you how to do it right sometime,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting into half a smile.

“Maybe you should just do my makeup so I don’t poke my eye out.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll do your makeup next time.”

“Kick your clothes out the door when you take them off, I’ll throw them in the washing machine for you,” he said, and left her to her devices.

He went back into his bedroom to give her privacy and get changed into his own PJs, which consisted of an old ratty t-shirt with a couple of holes around the neck and plaid pants he was sure had belonged to Wayne at some point in their lives. While he busied himself changing his sheets into fresh ones, putting her clothes in the washer and making his bedroom look somewhat presentable, Dottie tried to hurry up in the shower, not wanting to use up all the water. Still, she couldn’t help but take her time appreciating the fact that Eddie actually owned conditioner and that the green apple smell that surrounded him in the mornings belonged to the big bottle of shampoo in the corner of the tub. She washed all the beer off her skin and hair and, feeling a lot more like herself, wrapped her body into the soft off-white towel he’d gotten for her, standing at the mirror to rid herself of her make up as best as she could. She brushed her hair quickly, scrunching her curls into the towel to remove the excessive moisture, and brushed her teeth making a note to buy him a new toothbrush to replace the one she’d used. Timidly, she also reached for his deodorant, reasoning that it was better to use it than to stink up his clothes and bed with her sweat.

She was studying herself in the small mirror, not entirely believing that she was wearing Eddie’s clothes, when she realized the light scabbing on her knuckles had probably loosened up with the water and they were all bloody again like she’d never cleaned them up in the first place. Poking her head out of the bathroom, she directed her voice towards his bedroom where she could hear him pottering about.

“Eddie?” she called.

“Yeah?”

“D’you have any bandages? My hand’s bleeding again.”

“Uh, lemme see,” he pushed the door open and rummaged around in the sink cabinet, grabbing a little bag that contained their first aid supplies. “Come, sit on the bed,” he instructed, and she did as he asked without a word.

He kneeled in front of her and inspected her right hand, closing each finger carefully and pressing on parts of her palm to see if anything hurt. Nothing seemed to be permanently broken, so reached over to his bedside table where a cup of water sat and gave her an ibuprofen to help with the swelling before moving on with his next task. She watched him as he worked diligently to clean the scrapes, long thick fingers fluttering softly on her skin.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Dottie asked.

“I’m getting a weird déjà vu here, princess,” he chuckled. “You need to stop getting into trouble before I get into pre-med.”

“Can’t help it. Trouble’s my middle name.”

“I thought it was Ann?” Eddie said, laughing.

Truthfully, he was joking around to hide the fact that he had been losing his mind since she’d opened the bathroom door and came out all rosy-cheeked, smelling like him and wearing his clothes. He’d given her one of his old shirts, a white one he hardly ever used anymore with a Garfield print at the front and his blue checkered boxers, not expecting them to look as big on her as they did. The hem of the shirt almost covered the shorts, and the short sleeves went past her elbows. The less was said about his gray socks that bunched up at her heel, the better, and he tried not to think about the fact that he knew she wasn’t wearing a bra because he’d had the most mortifying pleasure of throwing the cute cotton garment into his washing machine fifteen minutes earlier. Eddie was wrapping up her knuckles with a long piece of gauze when he noticed she’d gone strangely quiet. He looked up at her face to find her teary-eyed and chewing on a wobbly lip.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, holding onto her hand. “Is it too tight?”

“Is that… what everyone thinks about me?” she whispered, like she was afraid of asking out loud.

“I- I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, darling.”

“Wh-what Andy said. About me being… does everyone think I’m a slut?”

“What? No! Of course not!” he stuck the gauze in place with a piece of medical tape and lifted himself onto his knees between her legs to hug her. “Dot, he didn’t even know who you were until tonight, he was just talking out of his ass.”

“I’m not a whore,” she muttered into his shoulder. “I promise I’m not.”

“Darling, what are you on about, huh?” he grabbed her face with two hands and brought her eyes to his. “I know you’re not. You could sleep with half this town and I still wouldn’t think you’re a whore. You- you can do whatever you want with whoever you want! I know you, you’re… Dot, you’re so fucking nice to me, to all of us, and the only reason Andy said that bullshit about you is because you’re friends with the freaks.”

“I’m not,” she said, and he looked at her in question. “I’m not friends with the freaks. I am a freak.”

“Hell yeah you are,” Eddie smiled. “You are a freak, and you shouldn’t let what that piece of shit said get to you, okay? You broke his fucking nose because he talked shit about you, Dot. You’re so fucking amazing.”

It was probably the way Eddie was looking at her like she’d hung the moon and all the stars, or maybe it was the way he was holding onto her face with a gentleness no one associated with the rugged metalhead, fingers extending under her ears and into her damp hair, thumbs on her cheeks. It was most definitely the way he always took care of her, how he cleaned her wounds like she was the most fragile thing on Earth and how he never hesitated to pull her into his arms whenever she needed a hug without questioning her reasons. But honestly, it was most likely the fact that he was so close to her, his warm breath mingling with her minty one, that had her leaning forward and pecking his lips with hers in the most chaste kiss she’d ever given to anyone in her entire life.

She tried pulling away as fast as she had leaned in, she really tried to, but Eddie felt like he had been struck by a live wire and instinctively chased her mouth with his own, still cupping her face but moving one of his hands to tangle into her hair, finally taking a hold of the proverbial carrot dangling in front of him. He was kissing her - Eddie Munson was kissing Dottie Burke and he couldn’t get enough of it - he needed more, he needed to consume her and she to him until there was nothing left for anyone to see. He grabbed onto her bare thigh to pull himself up and she whimpered, the walls of the illusion suddenly crashing around him. She’d just tearfully asked him if the town thought she was a whore, and his way of reassuring her, had been to deny it and then make a move on her. Eddie jumped back so quickly he fell onto his bruised ass and hissed in pain.

“Fuck, Dot, I’m- I’m so sorry!” he pleaded, leaving her dumbfounded and glazy-eyed.

He’d fucked up. He’d ruined everything. With his eagerness, he’d jumped the gun and now his plan was ruined, and she probably, maybe, definitely thought he was a fucking pervert trying to get into her pants, and yes, he very much would like to do that but not like this. Not before she knew he would quite literally die for her, not before he’d confessed to her the profound love he felt and had finally become the kind of man she deserved to have. Dottie looked at him not understanding what had just happened, but when she moved to get off the bed and closer to him, he jumped off the floor and put even more distance between them.

“I’m so sorry, we shouldn’t- fuck, I didn’t-”

“Eddie, it’s fine-

“No, it’s not fine!” his hands tangled in his own hair while he tried to find the words to explain himself. “This is all wrong, goddamnit-”

“Eddie, calm down-”

“Fuck, Chrissy is gonna kill me, I’m such a fucking idiot-”

“Ch-Chrissy?” Dottie whispered, but he didn’t hear her in the middle of his freakout.

Oh. Oh. She was so stupid. She couldn’t even blame him, she’d been influenced by her aunts and by Gareth - and of course, who wouldn’t be in love with Chrissy Cunningham, Head Cheerleader and Queen of Hawkins High? She was so kind, and friendly, with her gorgeous eyes and warm smiles. And by his own admission, if she was going to kill him, well, that certainly meant she returned Eddie’s affections, did it not? She’d be an idiot not to love Eddie back because Eddie was so loveable. Sweet, silly, wonderful Eddie who had just kissed his best friend and regretted it deeply. She had to get out of there if there was any hope of saving their friendship.

“I’m so sorry,” Dottie said, rushing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Dot, wait!” Eddie followed her. He had to fix this, he had to tell her, he was gonna tell her- “What are you doing?”

“I’m really so sorry, Eddie, I didn’t know,” she got her damp clothes out of the washing machine; the cycle had probably ended in the middle of his upset rant and neither of them had heard it.

“Where are you going? It’s midnight!” he watched her shove her feet into her heels, not bothering with fastening the buckles before she opened his front door. He had to act fast or he was going to lose her forever.

“Eddie, please,” she asked, tears pooling in her eyes again, voice broken. “I just want to go home. Everything’s fine, I’ll see you on Monday-”

“No!” he threw himself onto the door, closing it again effectively locking her in. “Y-you can’t leave like this! What are you gonna do, walk home in your heels? Are you insane?”

“Please, I’m sorry,” she sobbed, breaking his heart into a million tiny pieces. “We can forget this all happened, please, just let me go!”

“No!”

“Eddie!”

“No! We need to talk about this!”

“There’s nothing to talk about! I didn’t know you were dating her, just let me-”

“Wait, what?” It was Eddie’s turn to be confused. “I’m not dating anyone, what are you talking about?”

“I’m not fucking deaf, Ed! You just said Chrissy was gonna kill you!”

“Yes, but that’s not- Fuck! That’s not what I meant! She’s dating Jason Carver, for fuck’s sake!”

“It’s okay if you like her, she’s fucking perfect-” she babbled, fat tears leaving tracks on her cheeks.

“You’re fucking perfect! God, fuck, this is not what I-” Eddie took the clothes out of her arms and threw them into the living room, pulling her into his arms again.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” she shrieked, trying to get away from him but he held on tight, throwing her onto his shoulder and sitting her down onto the kitchen counter.

“I made Kool-Aid!”

“What? I don’t want fucking Kool-Aid-”

“Just stop arguing!” he yelled, effectively shutting her up. “I made apple Kool-Aid.”

“...I love apple Kool-Aid,” she said, for lack of a better response.

“I know,” he said, leaning back and looking at her sitting between his arms, palms on the cold surface of his kitchen countertop. “That’s why I keep buying it. For you.”

An ugly sob bubbled up out of her throat and she hid her face in her hands. She wasn’t strong enough to keep fighting with him, and when he hugged her again, fingers tangling back under her ears, she simply bowed her head and cried harder. Eddie kissed her hair and held her, letting her release all the pent up emotions that were swirling in her mind. When she breathed a little bit easier, he looked at her, drying her tears with his thumbs.

“Can I trust you to stay here while I get the Kool-Aid?” he asked, softly.

Dottie nodded, so he moved away from her to get the pitcher out of the fridge. He filled a mug first, watching her legs swinging lightly back and forth while she sniffled and picked at her nails, and stopped before filling the next one. She saw him frown and look around the kitchen before finding what he was looking for: a yellow ceramic mug with a gnome playing the accordion on the front. A couple of weeks ago, the teens had been studying in the trailer on the small table in the kitchen, and Dottie had mentioned to Wayne she was gonna get him a hat with her college logo when she was in Michigan so he could add it to his collection. He’d glowed at that, joking that he was gonna tell everyone his niece was a genius and that he’d leave her her favorite mug in his will in return. The two of them had spent around 30 minutes going through every mug until she decided on one, all while Eddie worked on his homework with a dumb smile on his face. She’d picked a yellow mug with gnome playing the accordion on the front, the very same mug Eddie was now gently putting into her hands filled with apple Kool-Aid he allegedly kept buying because he knew it was her fave flavor.

They sipped their juice in silence until Dottie calmed down, holding onto the mug with both hands for comfort. Eddie stood there, waiting for her to say anything and when it became clear she was not gonna be the first one to talk, he put his mug down and turned to her, pulling on the hem of her borrowed boxers.

“Hey,” he said, ducking his head down to look her into the eyes. She made a small sound of acknowledgment but kept staring at the liquid between her hands. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t like Chrissy,” he kept going.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Yes, I do. I really fucking do,” he took her mug out of her hands and ducked a bit more. “Dot, look at me. Please.”

“Eddie, it’s fine-”

“I’m kind of insanely in love with you.”

“What?” Dottie breathed out, eyes widening.

“Darling, I haven’t been able to even look at anyone else since the day I met you. I’m so fucking obsessed with you it’s actually embarrassing,” he smiled at her, finally hitting her with the full force of his confession.

“You… you like me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, lifting her hand and kissing her gauze covered knuckles. “Chrissy has been helping me plan how to ask you out. We’re not secretly dating, she knows I’m crazy about you.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know,” Dottie murmured, ashamed that she’d jumped the gun with her conclusions.

“You couldn’t know, that was the whole point,” he chuckled. “I was gonna ask you out after graduation, I wanted to have our diplomas and everything but then you kissed me and… you’re awfully impatient, has anyone ever told you that?”

“God, I’m an idiot,” she laughed, hitting her forehead with her palm. “How long had you been planning that?”

“Since around your birthday,” he admitted, and she groaned. “I would have asked you earlier but I wanted to set things straight before, y’know? I wanted to graduate first, maybe get a job, I dunno… Give you what you deserve. Instead you get… this,” he waved his hand around. “Sorry.”

“Eddie, I’m so in love with you, it’s not even funny. What are you talking about?”

“What?”

“Oh my god, we’re both idiots!” Dottie groaned again, and he laughed in disbelief.

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yes! Why did you think I kissed you?!”

“I mean, I kinda figured out you liked me, but love, darling, that’s… That’s a lot.”

“You just said you are “kinda insanely in love” with me, what do you mean it’s a lot?” she looked at him like he had just told her the sky was green.

“Well, yeah, but- that’s different! I’m me!”

“Okay, what the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know, I just- fuck, I love you and I really, really want to kiss you right now. Would that be okay, darling? Can I kiss you?”

She shook her head at him like he had just said the stupidest thing on Earth and wrapped her arms around him, bringing him forward and pressing their lips together again. Eddie laughed against her mouth, hands coming up to cup the sides of her jaw, thumbs rubbing circles into her skin. They kissed with no hurry and no other motives than to just kiss, savoring the moment like a cold sip of water after a long race. There were no more places to hide, no more shadows lurking in the background. It was just them under the mismatched light bulbs in the Munson kitchen, two mugs and a pitcher filled with Kool-Aid, and limbs tangling with one another, scratching an itch that had once seemed impossible to relieve.

Eddie moved his lips from hers to her cheek, up her nose and eyelids until he reached her forehead and stayed there, just breathing in and basking in the knowledge that they’d jumped off a cliff together and had landed on the other side unscathed. There were so many conversations to be had, so many things to be said, but this was more than okay for him now. This was enough, and for the first time in his whole life, he was enough. Dottie’s hands moved under his shirt, lightly running her short nails over his skin, the motion calming and grounding him. He was hers, and she was his, and there was nothing else that mattered anymore. The waters were calm. The locked padlocks remained in place, but the keys weren’t forgotten or hidden anymore. She felt at peace in a way she had never once felt before, knowing that no matter what came next, they would face it together. She yawned once, burrowing further into his skin, and he chuckled.

“Wanna go to bed now?” he asked, softly.

“Yes, please,” she replied.

Eddie helped her off the counter and let her get comfy in his room while he finished getting ready for bed, turning all the lights off and brushing his teeth with a dazed expression on his face. He found her tucked in on the left side of his bed, the one closest to the wall and realized that he could get used to this so easily. He was sure that once she went home the next day, he’d have trouble falling asleep until she was back next to him, nuzzling into his chest and wearing his clothes. They cuddled in silence, soft touches in the darkness, just exploring skin and calming rapid heartbeats with innocent caresses that revealed just how much they’d longed for this. There would be time for bolder actions, but tonight they just wanted to hold each other tight and never let go. Eddie, however, had one more question to ask before sleep could whisk them away to Dreamland.

“Darling?”

“Mhm?”

“I don’t want to, like, ruin the moment, but… what happens now?”

“Dunno. What do you want to happen?” she asked, moving her leg on top of his so he could shuffle closer to her.

“Can we maybe not tell people this happened so I can ask you out like I planned?” he said, shyly. “I just… I want to do things right with you. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You’re not fucking anything up, Ed. But sure, we can pretend this didn’t happen and I’ll act surprised when you ask me out,” she rolled her eyes playfully.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” he squeezed her closer. “I meant it more like… not telling the guys? You can tell your Dad if you want, though.”

“How about this?” she said, reaching up and kissing his jaw sweetly. “We don’t tell anyone anything, and my Dad doesn’t get an aneurysm every time he sees you. Sound good?”

“You want to lie to your Dad?”

“Not forever. We can tell him before I leave for college. You’re gonna come see me, right?” Dottie asked, hopeful.

“Baby, Michigan is only three hours away. They’re gonna think I’m your roommate with how often I’m gonna be there,” he pecked her hairline.

“Baby?”

“Just trying it on. D’you like it?”

“I love it. And I love you.”

“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of that. I love you,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss her. “Okay, we won’t tell anyone so your Dad doesn’t murder me.”

“I have one condition though.”

“Okay?”

“I still get to kiss you when we’re alone.”

“You just want me to be your dirty little secret, don’t you?” Eddie joked, poking her side.

“I’ll be yours too if that helps,” she said, cheekily.

“Oh, don’t tempt me with a good time, princess,” he said with a mischievous tone. “Who knows? Might be fun to sneak around all summer.”

Half an hour later, when they were finally falling asleep between soft kisses and whispered sweet nothings, they both agreed that a little bit of teenage disobedience might just be the missing piece they didn’t know they were looking for to complete their perfect summer before officially being adults. After all, it always looked so much fun in movies, right?

taglist (comment below or send me an ask if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

[izzy-b-hands]

15 QUESTIONS FOR 15 FRIENDS

Tagged by @sherlockig, thank u Alexz!!

Under the cut bc I got wordy and rambly as per usual lol.

ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

Kind of? In that I more or less named myself after Izzy from our flag lol. Not that I'm going to tell everyone I meet that, but it is a big part of why I stuck with it after trying it out (that, and I've always wanted a name that had the letter zed in it, silly as that may seem.)

One of my middle names (that I had been using as a first name for a few years) is after my grandfather and aunt who also have that name as their middle name.

My deadname was after an actress famous in the 90s (tho tbh my mum apparently didn't choose it for that, she chose it bc she didn't find out my gender until I was Out and then was like 'aw fuck I don't have a name for this situation' and went with the first one she saw in a book of names a nurse gave her. It was only after that she remembered the actress when I was like. 4. that she changed and started telling ppl it was after that instead.)

And technically Holden is after the book character, but mum never actually read that book (and after I described it to her, said she has no interest in doing so lmao), she just liked how the name sounded and that was the one solitary name she for sure had on hand when I was born apparently. Could have saved us all time had she just used that one for me anyway!

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?

Couple of nights ago. I'm doing better abt missing my cat Nisha, but my phone will toss up compilations of pics of her to mark the year/month/etc and sometimes those still get me. It popped up just before I went to bed that night and I was already so tired that I just. broke down. Bc I know she's v loved and looked after w/my mum, but I do miss her goofy lil self a lot. She was my first cat that was given to me and meant to be mine alone, and there's something abt that first pet bond I guess.

3. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

Nope, and it's not a likely thing for me. I've said before that that happening would be in a very specific situation, wherein I'm with someone who wants to dedicate the rest of our lives to raising a child, or god forbid more than one, tho I think I'd max out at two if I managed one at all tbh (and that's not even getting into the very complex for me thing of would I want to actually be pregnant ever (probably not, absolutely terrified of dying in childbirth and don't see myself getting over that easily), we have the funds to make that happen (and give the kid a good life, not just a decent one or 'could have been worse' like my own), and we feel stable mentally, emotionally, and physically (as much as one can outside of Life Happening of course) bc having a kid means putting allll of that first for them, ahead of yourself. Or at least I think it should mean that lol.

But that situation is incredibly unlikely considering my bigger goal in life is to wind up being a third for multiple couples while also fucking any of my friends who are down for it in a big poly ENM sort of thing for lack of better/more detailed definition (I know it sounds unrealistic and maybe it is to a degree, almost definitely is lol.)

I can admit I just. don't want to uproot the life I've been trying so hard to build for myself in so many ways, to have kids. I'll happily help babysit the kids of any friends tho and be the fun uncle that buys them junk food and lets them stay up late to watch movies. I think that's about the level of parenting of any kind that I can handle for now (also tbh I burned out on parenting bc my family admits they parentified the fuck outta me with my three younger cousins. It by far could have been worse, but I spent my teens spending most of my days after school helping look after them from the newborn years and on. Unless my above uber specific scenario happens, then I've probably had my fill of parenting for my lifetime.)

4. WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?

I played volleyball for a few years in elementary school, and we were made to participate in a multi-school track and field thing for most of middle school every year, but I was never amazing at them. Housemate and I have figured out I likely have undiagnosed asthma tho (turns out running or going out in too cold or hot weather shouldn't instantly make you gasp, struggle to breathe, and make you taste iron in your mouth, who the fuck knew? Not me, genuinely) so I think that might have a lot to do with it.

I also enjoy tennis and badminton and would love to try rugby, but I've never played any of those beyond a hobby with family/friends.

5. DO YOU USE SARCASM?

I do! Probably too much and not always in the best situations, but I've been working for years to hone when and where it should be used so I think/hope I'm a lot better with it than I was when I was younger. Tho even then, I did get adults who found it funny when I was sarcastic bc of how adult I seemed to a lot of them (their words, not mine lmao.)

6. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?

I genuinely don't know. Usually I'm too busy running my script for meeting new ppl in my head and trying to maintain Common and Expected Etiquette to really notice much right away. I have found that after a bit of time/after the initial meeting has passed, I tend to notice colours ppl wear more often than others if I see them often enough, or hair colour. But I don't know if it counts towards this question at that point lol.

7. WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOUR?

Kinda blueish grey? Some ppl say it's too grey to be blue, others that it's too blue to be grey. I had a lady at the ND DOT freak out abt not being sure if I should have blue or grey on my ID a few years back, and she finally just told me to put blue so 'she could stop feeling so confused.' Was a weird day and the first time I realised apparently they really do have a blend of both colours, enough for it to be upsetting lmao.

8. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?

I can't choose between the two; I like both! I also like mixing them together when I write (a scary story with a happy ending, an ending that seems happy but is actually terrifying, so on and so forth.)

9. ANY TALENTS?

Writing? Maybe, I always list it bc it's something I know how to do and to (usually) do decently well. I can sort of draw? But not well enough that I think 'talented' would be accurate to describe how I draw lol. I'm not sure of anything else off the top of my head tbh.

10. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?

In California, USA! We were there bc dad was in basic training for the Marines and then just got stuck at Camp Pendleton for years lmao (or that's how he always talks abt it anyway lmao.) Only was actually there until either: a. I was 3 months old, b. I was 6 months old or c. I was actually basically still a fresh newborn. Depends on whether you're talking to my dad, mum, or grandparents as to which answer you get, and at this point I'm genuinely uncertain as to exactly when mum left and took me to North Dakota but 6 months seems the most potentially accurate lmaooo.

11. WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?

Writing, drawing, reading (not enough but I'm trying to remedy that), napping, watching movies/fave shows, and giffing.

12. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?

Kind of? My cat Nisha had to stay in North Dakota after I moved, so my mum and her bf are looking after her now (and got her a little sister, a kitten who is getting so big already!, named Bella.) I help Housemate look after aer two cats as well, and I'd like to think the boys consider me like their fun uncle lol (aka I bend over backwards for them and let them steal my spot on the couch all the time, and will break out the treats if needed to corral them now and then. In my defense: they are the cutest lil baby boy cats and they deserve the world, even when they're being little gremlins lmao.)

13. HOW TALL ARE YOU?

Approximately somewhere between 5'3 and 5'4ish? I can't recall the last time I was actually measured, and most of the ppl I've been around were somewhere between those heights and I'm usually either slightly shorter or slightly taller than some of them, so??? I put 5'3 on my ID tho lol

14. FAVOURITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL?

English bc it was easy and I liked almost everything we did in that class. All my general and more specific history courses were a close second, and my foreign language classes a close third.

15. DREAM JOB?

Ideally, I'd love to not have to work. But who wouldn't, so that said, probably something in a library or museum. I'd love to be a library page again, or help work the front desk/docent duties of a museum. Working at someplace like Mystic Seaport would be amazing too; I'd be happy to learn how to help repair/repaint ships that come in or just help do tours or look after artifacts and stuff (tbh they could hire me just to type up any random data entry work they need done for any/all depts and I'd say yes to the job offer lol.) Unfortunately there's fairly significant roadblocks to me achieving any of these jobs rn, but I like to keep them in mind, just in case.

Also, if I can have one dream job that would be even more unlikely and is slightly TMI probably but: paid third for a rich couple. I show up, look nice, [redacted], make sure they're both good for the night, then go back home to Housemate (if it wouldn't be a night they'd want me to stay over, which I wouldn't be against but also. That would require some overtime pay lol.) The chances of this one are...so unlikely it's stupid funny, but a man's allowed to have dreams right lmao?

Tagging (if u guys wanna, no obligation if u don't wanna/have already been tagged/etc!!): @starmoonchildfromthebeamsabove, @freebooter4ever, @willowenigma, @turtleduck-tales, @mash1972, @mysteriouslybluepirate, @turtles-on-turts, @cononeillbreastingboobily, @treesofgreen, @dianetastesmetal, @arsenicflame, @gydima, @king-bussy, @p0ochy, @crvwly, and anyone else following me who wants to!

[thechaoticreader]

Popular Books I Read and HATED

*Disclaimer: If you like any of these books, slay! I'm happy for you! These are just my own consumer choices, and imo negative book reviews are just as helpful as positive ones!*

This list is not long because I don't actively dislike many books that I read, and I have a very good sense of what I will and will not like, but there are some I had to read/were misled into reading so here we go:

1. Tender Is The Flesh

by Agustina Bazterrica

My rant review is above if you want more details but recently I've seen a few videos that articulate my feelings in a way that I couldn't before so im going to add a few reasons here that were not included in the original post:

It gave very Qanon and general antisemitic vibes: i.e blatant conspiracy made up by the "wealthy liberal elites" to encourage cannibalism for their own enjoyment (I know she's Argentinian however that doesn't mean im not allowed to get the ick from it)

Purposefully inaccurate depictions of meat industry and disrespect for farmers (context: im a vegetarian from farm country with a roommate who works in the cattle industry - Angus beef if you're curious - so im very familiar with the process and cannot say in good conscious that it is all bad -> just support local farmers <3)

world building makes little sense

COWS DO NOT EQUATE TO HUMANS NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO !!!!!!!!

the "disease" doesn't make sense (even if its made up who would believe it)

No themes were treated with the depth nor nuance they require (capitalism, feminism, veganism etc.)

I think thats all I haven't covered but this is the only book I have ever read where my hatred of it continues to grow with each day. I went out of my way and deleted it from my reader and get annoyed every time I see it. And for the record (because yes i'm salty) I didn't hate it because it was too disturbing, in fact I've read and loved worse and ive been an avid horror reader since I was (admittedly too) young. I hate it because there wasn't a well done story underneath the gore. I'll say it loudly for the people in the back GORY HORROR BOOKS STILL DESERVE A GOOD/INTERESTING STORY, especially if you want to try to put complex themes in it. If you cannot write a deep story but you're good at and enjoy gore, write yourself a lil 100 page splatter punk and we can all have a good time <3

Unlike with Tender Is The Flesh I don't have a ton of thought out critical reasons for the rest of these soooooo I'm going to give my highly subjective reasons -> I totally understand why some like them <3

2. The Handmaids Tale

by Margaret Atwood

hated the writing style

It didn't keep my attention

disliked the ending so much I actually threw it across the room <3

3. The Hobbit

by J.R.R Tolkien

hated the writing style

male centered fantasy is not my vibe

my ADHD cannot handle long incredibly descriptive sections in books -> I physically fell asleep multiple times while reading this book

honestly even with the movie I fall asleep every time

0/10 book I want to read

10/10 bedtime story

4. Lord of The Flies

by William Golding

hated the writing style

hated most of the characters (and not in a slay anti-hero way)

was forced to read it in high school and it single handedly sent me into a 4 year reading slump... I missed so many good books because of this and will forever hold a grudge

5. Romeo & Juliet

By William Shakespeare

I'm too jaded and gay to enjoy this -> every single character is so painfully stupid

tbh im just bitter that his (imo) better plays get less love than this one, its way over hyped

but I will give it points for boring me so much that I wrote my first fanfic (Romeo x Mercutio if you're curious ... no its not posted anywhere and it never will be <3)

sidenote -> Shakespeare plays I love incl:

Hamlet (duh im a depressed emo gay on Tumblr)

Macbeth (also duh, witches and female manipulator... need I say more)

Othello (a slow burn for the true crime girlies)

Measure for Measure (absolutely underrated, please please please look into this play -> I saw a production of it and it was incredible)

[valkyriephoenix98]

Possible Theory on sonic3

Okay, just heard me out

The Last post I made a theory on how the possibility of metal sonic showing up in the film, I don't think I fully explained how and why.

Let me explain...

Last post I point out the quill and how Eggman still technically has it and the two times he has used it was on his prototype ship from the first movie at the near end and the second movie , he used it to make that disc thingy to create a signal at the beginning..

So here's a thought, what if in the third one it begins with the aftermath of the second film and Agent Stone overhearing the file that had the secret stuff that leads to Project shadow and tells Robotnik about it and then comes up with a plan to find it first before they do..

So what if during the Knuckles series, Agent Stone..being a "double agent" acts as a spy of sort to "distract" G.U.N. by leading them the wrong way some how and before the third movie starts, they need a much more.."Bigger" distraction..

And that is where (in my way of saying)

"Project Hypersonic" comes to the act.

They make metal Sonic to cause a bit of trouble..making G.U.N. think it's Sonic causing trouble and be more focused on him while Robotnik and Stone go the other direction and find it first.

Also not to mention that the two films, Robotnik hasn't taken the name Eggman as his own...yet..

So the idea of G.U.N. being convinced that he's dead could be an opportunity...

Dr. Robotnik maybe dead....but the official Hatching of Dr. Eggman maybe an interesting way to use that name..

The name that started off as a joke name by Sonic and later on after that second movie fight owns the name as "transformation" .. like a Phoenix raising from the metaphorical ashes (dumb joke I know).

Plus G.U.N. wanted to remove any possible information on Robotnik either way...so how can you get rid of somebody that just decided to give themselves a new name that sounds silly and didn't say "sike I lived" right off the bat.

So using the joke name that sonic gave him and made it his own and making a robotic copy to frame sonic for crimes he didn't do

As well as unleashing not only another hedgehog that looks strangely similar to him...but the possibility of the world being in trouble by a second moon ... sorry..space station with an eclipse cannon and a Giant salamander...

I can tell that this film "MIGHT" not only mention the themes of how one copes with loss ...but also on the effects of Revenge.

Eggman's would be on not being able to handle the fact that he has lost to a blue hedgehog....twice.

So chances he might crack a little, to a point he makes a robotic sonic so he can use it against him fight fire with fire you will..

And I bet he's secretly hiding in a very unlikely place for him to even hide..because going back to his place might not be a great idea....I'm guessing he'll be hiding in either a casino...or abandoned funfair..by the beach..I mean with all the crazy rides and games...I wouldn't be surprised if he starts making his Robots look almost like the ones in the games or shows .

But Hey..

That's Just a Theory