#in that i fucking hate it and think it makes the viewing experience worse for folks with no context for irish so like??partial understanding

[iamfuckingsorry]

"Do you know where we are going next?" I asked ART.

Y'know what, I think maybe I don't need any more Murderbot books. I think maybe ending things here is fucking perfect and as much as I love Wells's writing I'm genuinely not sure it can get better for me.

Like, so much of the books are about MB learning how to be a person, about becoming okay with being a complete individual with everything it entails. The first thing it does once it's actually allowed to decide on its own is it runs away from it all (admittedly to go on a mission to confirm some things about its past, because it genuinely just wants to be *good*). It shoves all its emotions away as much as it's able to. Then shit happens, and it makes its first friends, makes decisions based on these friendships, goes through a lot of emotionally intense situations...

And we get to this point here. MB having zero doubts about going with ART says a lot about its relationship with ART, but it also says a lot about its relationship with its humans - it knows that wherever it goes, when it comes back, the humans will still be there. Its humans actively acknowledge its struggles with being a now-free SecUnit and MB is willing to entertain the discussions to an extent and share information about its deeply personal experiences. Hell, System Collapse ends with MB admitting it might be somewhat broken, but that's okay as long as it can keep doing its job, and agreeing to basically do counselling - this is the guy what would rewatch its favourite TV show again and again in order to avoid acknowledging it even had Emotions a couple books back.

Reading this, I know that MB will be okay. It has hopes and goals and genuinely believes in itself and it has an amazing support system that its willing to lean on for the first time in its life. I'm convinced it'll go on to do great things with ART. And that's really the only thing I need to know.

[wildevenusian]

treating myself to seeing kneecap (with captions!) again

[daydreamer-in-training]

The cave

Penguin x f!reader

Description: You are the new crewmate on the Tang, separated from the rest of the Heart-Pirates and stuck in a cave with Penguin, you get the chance to get to know each other more; Penguin opens up about his past; realization of feelings; Reader is implied to have had a difficult past

✨Inspired by, and a precursor to this gorgeous fic by @fanaticsnail, strongly suggest on reading that as well!

Word Count: 4.300+

Imagesource

Notes: First fic i am uploading on this account! <3 And what better chance to dedicate my first upload to @/fanaticsnail for her birthday. That was yesterday and i missed finishing this fic at said day by 20 Minutes. Its not a fanfic about Heat or your gorgeous OC Tobiuo, but i hope you‘ll enjoy this anyways Snail! ;-; I probably would have never done this without you! <3

Please note that English is not my first language and i am very tired while uploading this :D Enjoy everyone✨

Spoiler Warning: for the non-canon events of the novel, which contains the story of how Law, Bepo, Shachi and Penguin met. I haven't read it myself, so i‘m basing this off of the fandom-wiki article and i‘m mixing my own interpetation with it

TW: the word fuck, bit violence and blood in Penguins backstory, so its canon-typical violence i guess

„I think she doesn‘t really like me, Shach.“ Penguin let out a frustrated groan as he couldn't play a card in the game he and his best friend were playing.

„Well, if you think that, because she's stubborn as hell and can‘t accept any help, I suppose you're right,“ the redhead said nonchalantly and played another card „She must hate us all then“.

„Shame, she's really something…“ Peng murmured more to himself, more concentrated on the game than on what he was saying. He pulled another card from the deck. Shachi raised an eyebrow at that, his grin bared some of his sharp teeth.

„Give it some time“, both of them looked up as they heard Law's voice, he was leaning on a yellow wall of the Polar Tang next to them, arms crossed in his usual stoic manner. He must have overheard them talking. „She's only been here for a handful of days, “ he thought about what he said next for a moment „And it's not easy to like you two from the start, you know? I‘m talking from experience here!“ the dry humour in his voice was evident, but he got the Middle finger from his best friends for that comment anyways. He chuckled lowly at that and pushed himself from the wall. „Seriously… it wasn‘t easy for her, at least what she told me about. But I think she fits in here very well, so give it some time.“

The two men's obscured eyes met for a moment, and they nodded, „Aye Cap!“They both saluted him half ironically with a grin, and he left with a satisfied look on his face.

„So… she's really something huh?“ Shachi teased and played another card that earned him the win to this round. Peng groaned again and rolled his eyes.

~

„It's nothing, really!“ you protested, hiding the limb as best as you could „It barely even hurts!“. But Penguin could see how your eyebrows furrowed in pain just a little bit. He grabbed your forearm gently to make you stand still. You looked back at him annoyed. “What!?“

„Sit down, before you make it worse.“, he gently pulled at your arm, agitated by your stubbornness and worried that you got hurt for him. „We don‘t know where we are going or where the others are anyways“ he added in an untypically stern way as you didn‘t move a bit to sit down.

You and Penguin were separated from the rest of the crew by an attack by the residence of the island you made landfall on earlier that day. They don‘t seem too keen on having pirates around and made that known quite quickly. As you were all exploring the nearby area, the cliff you were walking on got hit by a large missile.

You were talking to Bepo about the map you had acquired when the explosion hit the rocks and made the earth underneath you shake. Suddenly the view around you was obscured by thick smoke. You could barely make out the large boulders that fell down from the cliff above you. One is directly falling towards Penguin and Shachi, who were standing closest to you.

Instinctively you did the only thing you could think of and tackled Penguin out of the way. You felt a sharp pain in your ankle! Disoriented, he let out a scream of surprise as you two tumbled down the cliffside. Luckily it wasn‘t too steep. Nevertheless, you two rolled for a good couple of moments before coming to a halt in a bush at the base of the cliff. Penguin managed to grab you and hold you close to him, all while protecting your head with his large hand while you two were falling.

A moment passed between you two in which you stared into his obscured eyes.„Fine“ you pouted, sitting down on a rock nearby. „We should call the others“ you suggested tiredly, roaming around in your bag “I have the Den-Den here somewhere…“

Penguin used your distractedness to crouch down in front of you and take a sneaky look at your ankle. He wanted to grab your boot gently as you pulled it away. „I`ve already told you, it's not-“ You regretted that motion instantly, yelping as a sharp pain shot through your whole leg. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you looked away from his face, pouting.

„Nothing huh?! Just let me take a look, aye?!“, he looked up at you, his eyes covered by his hat but his mouth twisted into an annoyed grimace. He knew you hated getting help from others anyway, he figured that much out since you joined the heart-pirates a few weeks ago. Being vulnerable and all that wasn`t easy either when everyone was still a stranger to you, he understood that.

You opened your mouth to protest him, but he wasn`t having any of it. „No! No arguing anymore“, frustrated by your stubbornness, he took off his hat and threw it to the ground in front of him to blow off some steam. „I`m a trained medic, you know?! It's not just Law that knows these things!“

It was always just Law-this and Law-that with you. You obviously admired their captain, but somewhere deep down, it knawed at Penguin.

“Just let me help you“, his eyes were displaying the full dimensions of his emotions right now. Annoyed and tired and most of all worried, he looked up at you, his eyebrows meeting in the centre of his forehead in a silent plea. „Please trust me!“.

You let out a quiet little gasp, taken aback by Penguins' actions just now. It wasn`t his outburst that made your thoughts come to a halt, no. It was his eyes.

Those shining light blue eyes were like arctic ice, swimming in the ocean. They contrasted beautifully with his dark hair. You didn't expect him to have such beautiful eyes, so full of emotions. Is that why he was wearing the hat all the time? Because otherwise, everyone around him could bear witness to his emotions all the time.

You were transfixed, staring down at him with round eyes, your standoffishness had left your body completely, leaving you speechless.

His gaze softened at that. How cute! „You are part of the crew now. The heart pirates take care of each other, promise“, he assured you, his voice much softer now. You gave him a nod to confirm that he was allowed to take your boot off now, still unable to say a word.

You were watching his nimble fingers gently unlace the boot, trying not to inflict too much unnecessary pain. „S´might hurt a little…“ he warned you, so you could brace yourself as he took off the boot. You clamped our eyes together but remained brave, bearing the sting that came with the loss of the shoe. You immediately feel more vulnerable, now that the bootshaft wasn't there to stabilize your ankle anymore.

You winced as you saw how blue it already was, it didn't look like it was part of your body anymore. „Oh damn, it's super swollen“, he looked at it with a curious fascination only a medic could display, chuckling a bit. The dark-haired man immediately grabbed his bag and took out a medical kit and looked through it. „Be right back“, he murmured as he stood up to search for something.

You wordlessly watched him take off and rummage around on the ground nearby while taking his famed hat from the ground in your lap, to brush off the dust gently. A happy „aha!“ in the near distance signalled that he had found what he was looking for, running back to you with a spring in his step. You gulped back the lump that formed in your throat while watching him take care of your injury so intently, still patting his hat gently. He didn't even notice that you had picked it up as he came back, to focus on his task of bandaging you up.

„I will make you a temporary brace, s`alright?“ he presented the two twigs to you that he had found and resumed taking out bandages and tape. „This will keep you stable until we can put you back together properly on the Tang.“ he assured you while gently taping the sticks to your skin to hold them in place while he bandaged your ankle.

Your fingers gently graced the pompom on his hat to keep you occupied. “I trust in your skills Penguin, I`m sorry… I didn't mean…“ Your voice shook a bit as you held back a tear. You were in pain and very tired. And on top of that, it was new to you that someone else took care of you in this way.

Peng's head snapped up at the tone of your voice, his heart skipped a beat as he saw your sad expression. His gaze flickered for a moment. Then he gently grabbed the hat he just now realized you had in your lap and put it back on his head, his stunning eyes now hidden again. As he took it, your fingers gently grazed his, sending electricity through his body. In that moment he was glad his gaze was hidden by the fabric again, or it would give his tender feelings away immediately.

„Well,“ he chuckled to lighten the mood „I might have to amputate the leg still! Looks reaaal bad y´know?!“ now he was the teasing, old Peng you`ve come to know. While he resumed bandaging you up, making sure it was snuck against your skin, he continued his musings „We`ll make you a neat wooden leg, then, aye?“ the suggestion making you chuckle „But You`ll have to wear the heart pirates jolly roger on it! Cap will make you! But don't worry, I will paint it onto the wood myself, promise!“ his bright grin was infectious and you found yourself in a much better mood now.

He looked up at you, proudly presenting his finished handiwork on your ankle. It felt much more stable now. The corners of your mouth twitched a little as you looked down at the goofy man grinning up at you. You couldn't help your lips turn into a smile. „Thanks, Peng…“ you whispered.

A raindrop landed on your nose, and then another on Penguin's head. „Oh no“, you said in unison while looking up at the grey clouds shrouding the sky. „I saw a cave over there, let's get shelter there!“ he suggested and stood up, holding his hand out to you. You nodded and took it to stand up carefully. After a bit more bickering and you refusing to lean on him or be carried by him, you two made it over to the cave, right when it started pouring buckets.

„Guess we should stay the night, it's late anyway.“, his casual suggestion made you go stiff. Stay the night with him in a cave? Alone?! „W-we could try to call the others, “ you said instead of agreeing „Maybe they are close and we can return to the Tang“. But as you took out the tiny Den-Den Bepo gave you earlier, you found it to be broken. Unfaced by your fruitless attempt to avoid this, Penguin turned around and scanned the cave for anything dangerous as well as a good place to make a little fire with the branches he picked up on their way here. The sun was starting to set and it was already dark in the cave as it was.

„Sit down and relax. I‘ll prepare a fire.“ he gave you a tired look that left no room for argument. You furrowed your brows and opened your mouth but closed it again immediately. You were exhausted and a stinging pain reminded you of your injury. „Okay…“ you murmured in defeat and sat down at a spot Penguin deemed worthy for your „relaxation“.

You slowly lowered yourself and stretched out your insured leg while he built a little firepit nearby. You grabbed the bag you had with you and searched through it for the little food you had on you. That must do for the night. He was starting to be satisfied with the way the fire looked, which would keep you cosy for a good while.

Mesmerized and tired you stared into the flames that were starting to grow bigger and lighter. Then, out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed him standing up and pulling down his Boilersuit from his Torso.

„O-Oi, what do you think you‘re doing?“

He looked down at you and grinned mischievously “What? Does me undressing you make you that nervous?“ the low tone he used to tease you with made your heartbeat go a little faster. He dared to make eye contact with you as he slowly pulled the fabric from his arms. You tried to remain unfazed by his provocation, keeping a stoic face. But your gaze flickered over the defined muscles of his arm and torso that were now only clad by a black tank top. „As if!“ you quickly tore your gaze off of him and pouted, your face hot. But your bashfulness wasn't lost on him as he tied the upper half of his boiler suit around his waist. „Relax… I‘m just a bit warm from the fire s‘ all“ he chuckled and crouched down again to stoke the fire a bit more.

From the corners of your eye, you checked if he was still looking at you, and when he wasn‘t, you allowed yourself another good look at him. It was strangely intimate seeing him without his usual attire. It never occurred to you before that underneath the Boilersuit was the body of a… well a strong and trained fighter, which was honestly a bit idiotic of you, since he was one of Law's most capable fighters. As you slowly trailed the muscles of his arm with your eyes, you stopped at a huge scar that seemed to stretch around the main part of his forearm like a bracelet. It looked like he almost lost his arm at one point. Your blood froze in your veins at the thought.

As he softly called your name, you snapped out of your ogling, a bit anxious he caught you. „Look…“ he said breathlessly, his eyes flickered around the cave. You followed them and gasped as well. The cave walls were littered with shimmering purple crystal clusters of all sizes, and the big stones on the ground as well. Now that the soft light of the fire illuminated them, they sparkled and shimmered. It was as if you were surrounded by purple stars.

You barely noticed Penguin sitting down beside you, transfixed by this beauty. For a little while, you two were sitting shoulder to shoulder, admiring the Amethysts sparkling around you. „This is beautiful…“ you whispered, not wanting to destroy the comfortable silence between you two. „Yeah, beautiful indeed“, he whispered close to you. But his eyes weren't on the amethysts, they were on you.

His hunger made itself known then by a growling noise in his stomach, that made you snort. „I guess you're hungry?“ you grinned up at him and he nodded. You pulled out the little snacks you bought with you and handed them to him. „Here, eat that. Sorry it's not that much, but it's at least a little something.“ Penguin and you shared the small portion in comfortable silence. When you where finished, he stood up again to add some wood to the dying fire. You used that chance to examine the scar on his arm again, and this time you saw it was actually circling his whole forearm.

„Peng…your arm…was it…?“ the words tumbled out of your tired mouth before you knew it, but you managed to stop yourself before you asked the intrusive question. He followed your gaze down his arm to his scar and nodded in confirmation. „Yeah, it was torn off“. You gasped at this blunt answer, shocked by his casualness and the fact itself. „S-sorry…“, you cursed your stupid ankle for hurting so much, else you would pull your knees toward you and bury your face in them.

He sat down next to you, a gentle smile on his face. Nothing in his demeanour indicated that he was angry or uncomfortable with you. „I don't mind you asking…“ his fingertips graced instinctively over the scar tissue on his forearm, his days of feeling insecure about it were long over. You looked up at Penguin again, scanning his half-hidden face. You wished you could see his eyes just now, wondered what they would tell you about his feelings. The dim light of the dying fire painted his features in a soft and warm way. „How did you… how did it happen?“ your sleepiness gave your curiosity free rain. Your shoulders touched his as you leaned closer to him.

Your heart clenched at the thought of that. No kid deserved to experience this kind of stuff. „One day we met Law. We were little shits at that point. He confronted us for beating up Bepo before, we wanted to beat him up for that as well.“ Penguin laughed honestly at the memory. You looked up at him curiously. „And what happened? Did Law give you the scar?!“

He reassured you with a nod, his smile widening at the memory of the scar. "It's a scar that is very dear to me. It's how me and Shachi met Law and Bepo," his quiet confession hung softly in the air for a moment. "Wow, that was more than eleven years ago," he realized now. Your weight began to weigh on his shoulder, and he opened his arm invitingly. You looked up at him, confused and stubborn, but you gave in, blaming it on your tiredness and exhaustion. With a huff, you leaned against him as his arm wrapped around your shoulder. His touch was warm and comforting.

„My parents were killed in a storm when I was a young teenager… Shachi and I were sent to live with his aunt and uncle. They treated us like shit, those bastards.“ he spat those last words bitterly. He sighed and resumed „It was too much and we ran away and lived in a small shack in the forest. Swallow Island was fucking cold in the winter and we survived by stealing food and weapons from the nearby village.“

The dark-haired man looked down at you, his blue eyes shimmering mischievously under his hat. „Kinda yeah. He knocked us out with his devil-fruit power. But that wasn't the last time we saw him of course. And our bad luck did not end there either.“

Lost in his story, his fingers trailed small shapes on your arm, it made you shiver a bit. „A few days later, we were searching for berries in the forest when a wild Boar attacked us. We must have provoked it somehow… I was so scared.“ his arm around you tightened as he looked into the flames of the fire. „It gave Shachi a huge gash in his stomach, the white snow was red all around us. I tried throwing a bomb but I panicked and it blew off before I could and that damn boar tore off my arm, “

Penguin swallowed the lump in his throat before he continued. His fingers lazily went up and down your upper arm again. He remembered seeing his severed arm in the white snow, it felt so sureal to him back then. It still does. „And Law and Bepo.…they found us and treated us, even though we were compleat assholes to them! We would have died if it wasn't for them and a man named Wolf. Law managed to reattach my arm, he gave his everything.“

Your heart ached for Penguin. He went through so much, but at the same time, it made you feel less alone with your past experiences.

„Peng….“ you whispered into the silence that replaced his story. He looked at you wordlessly, and you couldn't make out much of his face, since the fire was now just gleaming ambers in the firepit. But being so close to him, you were able to look into his eyes again and you didn't need to see more, because they said enough. „Thanks for sharing that with me…“sleepiness laced your voice.

He slowly looked from one eye to the other, then to your lips, that were so close to his. “We should sleep now, we need rest, “ he said, damning himself a little. You closed your eyes and nodded. Sleep found you quickly as you leaned against his strong shoulders. He waited till your breath was even and he was sure you sleped. Even though you were stuck in a shit situation, he considered himself lucky right now. His lips lightly graced your temple „Good night…“.

~

The next morning you woke up still leaning against Penguins, his arm was a comforting weight around your shoulder. Aside from the pain in your ankle, you did sleep quite well. Peng was already awake for a little while before he felt you moving. To be honest, he didn't sleep much, and how could he when you were so close to him? „Good morning“ You didn't have to look at his face his wide grin was evident in his voice alone. You sat up slowly and nodded „Good morning…“ feeling a blush creep onto your face, you avoided eye contact. Before you had enough time to think about the situation you were in and your feelings about it, you heard your names outside the cave.

~

“Aaand?“ Shachi teased his best Friend, poking his elbow into the other ribcage „What happened in that cave?! You had the whole night to yourselves after all“, his voice was teasing and lighthearted, „Did you finally make a move? Is she a good kisser?“. „No!“ the red-haired man blinked in confusion at the sharp answer, it came out harsher than Peng intended. He looked away, pulling his hat further into his face to hide the intense blush on his face, „Sorry man…“ he murmured, „No…nothing of that sort has happened…“. He could feel his heartbeat quicken again, as he recounted the memory of your little cuddle session to Shachi. A reassuring hand landed on his broad shoulder and made him look at his best friend, who had a soft grin on his face. „Crushing hard?“. Peng let out a defeated groan, he would never hear the end of it now.

Your laughter echoed abroad the deck of the Polar Tang, making Shachi and Peng look towards you, talking to Hakugan and Bepo. And there it was again, that smile of yours that made Penguin's stomach burst with butterflies.

A dorky smile crept on Peng's lips, he shook his head at his friend's suggestion. „No Shach… not crushing“, he confessed as he leaned against the railing, turning his head to the sky, „She`s it, man.“ he turned his head to his friend, who had nothing teasing to say for a change, just listening intently. „I want her to be mine…forever…“. As he said it out loud, he turned the amethyst geode he took from the cave with him in his pocket.

Shachis neutral expression twisted into a wicked grin, baring his sharp teeth. „I guess I have to step up my wingman game then! With your measly flirting skills, you wouldn`t have a chance without me!“, he teased and earned a light punch on the head from Penguin. „Shut up, you jerk!“ he shouted for everyone to hear.

You watched the dynamic- duo of the Polar-Tang bicker from afar, giggling at their antics. You were transfixed on Penguin, who had fun as he started to chase his friend across the deck playfully, cursing at him. Your heart swelled fondly at the tender moments you two had shared last night and you wondered if you would be able to stare into those beautiful eyes again soon.

✨

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Due to my obsession with the devils from abbadon (Phenix is underrated). I DEMAND (kindly ask) you to hand over all your headcannons about them.

Since you're asking so politely, I shall give it to you

Abaddon headcanon (Tw: Abaddon)

Since Abaddon is THE sex dangeon of all of Hell, and you can see public sex everywhere, I think that the people in Abaddon don't have the concept of consent. Everyone already wants to fuck and doing it in public with strangers is just the norm, so if any Abaddon nobles got a boner they'll just get undressed and fuck you right then and there

If we want to get really dark, we could even say that cries for "stop" and "no" are just taken as dirty talk. You can't tell me someone in Abaddon isn't into cnc.

Asmodeus likes seing his subjects fuck so he invites his nobles over and uses his powers to get them to rail eachother for his entertainment. Who needs porn when you can just make two of your people fuck for you?

Weirdly enough, Abaddon demons are actually very interested in romance. Their king was the only one that had a wife and kids, so they can do more than just fuck

Even someone like Phenix can be quite romantic when Asmodeus is asleep or something.

When Paradise Lost first became the ER of hell, it was filled with Abaddon demons because a) they're neighbouring countries b) they try very dangerous stuff for sexual pleasure and it usually fails

Abaddon was the first to lose healthcare priveledges and that's why Asmodeus and Lucifer don't talk with eachother.

Now they only have Marbas as the countries doctor

Marbas used to be just a normal demon before he was assigned to Abaddon. Since he was exposed to more of Asmodeus' charm, he started acting more violent and horny, so Lucifer had to tie him up

Asmodeus' charm is kind of like nuclear energy, where, the longer you're exposed to it the worse the symptoms get. And then you end up like Phenix.

The noble with the most one night stands to his name is Ronové. You can randomly ask a devil what their experience with Ronové was like and they'll have a story about it

Asmodeus used to take Ronové to meetings with him as an assistent, but he kept talking about how beautiful amputated feet are so Asmodeus gags him now.

Masturbating is a form of prayer towards Asmodeus.

Asmodeus is autistic and his special interest is sex. He's also a strong believer in learning by doing

Phenix was Asmodeus' caretaker when Asmo was little and that's why he's the most affected by his charms.

Asmodeus is the only demon in Abaddon that you can have a conversation with that doesn't involve sex. He'll still flirt tho

Abaddon demons can heal by having sex, which is how Dantalian got his kink

He got really badly wounded and was about to die before Phenix fucked him and his wounds closed off enough that he could walk himself to Paradise Lost

In that sense, Abaddon demons are healers but only to other Abaddon demons

Abaddon is the top honey moon destination in Hell.

The country they're closest to is Avisos because they have similar views on sex.

Asmodeus is the only demon king that can go to the human world at will without any complications. Even Satan gets shit for leaving for half an hour, but Asmodeus could be gone for days and nobody would complain.

He's closest with Belphegor but only by proxy. They're not friends, but they don't hate eachother so that's a plus in his book

None of the other kings really like him because when Asmodeus wants something, he would do anything to get it. And I trully mean anything. Nobody trusts this charming little back stabber.

Asmodeus has a statue of his former lover in the royal garden. If anyone tried to touch it he would brake all the bones in their body. He sometimes just stares at it and laments her death

He wouldn't even let the decendent of Solomon touch it. That's his wife and you can go find another.

He still has the makeshift wedding ring on his finger and he plays with it when he's bored. When Dantalian was little he stole it to try and get in danger with Asmodeus, but he almost shat his pants when he saw the absolutely terrifing glare Asmo had on.

When there's no battles to be had, Phenix goes to Asmodeus's chambers and humps his leg like a bitch in heat. Asmo sometimes picks him up on his lap and jerks him off while he works.

He'd be on a phone call like "Don't worry about the screams, my dog's in heat."

All electronics in Abaddon are waterproof... or more specificly, cum proof.

Ok wow, fuck this was longer than expected and I still have some. Abaddon is my second favorite country and we'll see if it because the first by Christmas.

[velvetgutz]

Mine and Yours… (Pt. 1)

Leon Kennedy x M!reader

Summary: In what was probably the worse situation of your life, drunk and depressed at a bar with people you hate, a stranger at the bar lends you a hand…

Ao3 Link (More parts to come!)

When I pictured going to college for the first time, I thought It would be paradise compared to the pitiful high school experience I had. Never in a million years did I imagine I would be cramped in a shitty, 3 bedroom apartment with assholes from my high school,who judged me constantly for no real reason.

An ex-crush of mine, his girlfriend, and her best friend. All the same people who berated and humiliated me until graduation… But that’s not important.

I’ve always kept to myself, stayed as far away as I could, and minded my own business within the confines of our tiny apartment, not really ever interacting with them, or wanting to. So when they suddenly invited me to go out with them one night for drinks, dread pooled in my stomach. Even using the most absurd excuses couldn’t shake them from dragging me to whatever local bar they were planning to go to. Before I could protest any further, I was shoved into the back someones car, and on the way to the bar.

~

Screeching tires brought me out of an absent minded daze. I guess we’re here. The bar logo flickered every so often, neon lights disappearing in intervals. The place was fairly busy, a couple cars parked here and there. Stepping out into the crisp fall air, I exhaled deeply as a last ditch effort to rid myself of anxiety.

Generic Tiktok trend garbage floods my ears, and a familiar stench of alcohol sets me a bit at ease. My roommates gather at an already occupied booth. oh fucking great. An audible sigh falls from my lips. The occupants are friends of my roommates, all the more reason to be nervous.

Sitting at that table is not an option.

I begrudgingly walk over to the counter, picking the farthest seat possible. Not paying close attention, I ended up in the second-last seat, empty bar stool to my left and an occupied to my right. Waving over the bartender, my order was placed and shortly 2 shots sat in front of me. The more wasted I get the better I’ll feel. A intricate mixed drink was added to the palate for tonight.

From my peripheral view, the figure to my right stole a quick glance at my drinks and then to me, a look you’d miss if you blinked. Fuck, tonight’s gonna be hard…

~

My whole body burned from the alcohol in me. Even after drinking until I was almost too drunk to stand, the bicker and insults from my roommates couldn’t be blocked out. Could they just fuck off. If it wasn’t already obvious, the slurs thrown my way surely gave away there was a gay guy sat in the bar. The embarrassment enveloping me weighed down my body, almost resting my head on the counter as I swirled around another random cocktail in it’s glass.

Downing the last drops of my drink, I attempted to order another before a hand pushed mine flat to the counter.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for tonight, kid?” A rough, deep voice sounded in my ears. Ever so slightly turning my gaze to my right, my eyes focused on the man next to me. A dirty-blonde, mature looking guy. His hand moved from mine.

“Drinking doesn’t make it feel any better, go home.” He talked sternly. Who’s this guy think he is… My displeasure must’ve been written on my face, he let out a small sigh. “What’s the big deal with them anyways?” He tilted his head in the direction of the table behind us.

“My roommates,” I was slurring my words, the liquor was really hitting me. “thought it would be funny to take me out and announce to the whole world what a ‘disgusting faggot’ I am…” Fuck I sound pathetic. My voice came out low and raspy, alongside the slurring. A scoff sounded from the man as he downed the last of his drink. Slowly he stood up and stretched, reaching for my shoulder with a small tug.

“I’m calling you a cab, c’mon” There was that same tone of voice from before. I wanted to refuse and continue drowning myself in booze, but in the state I was in, refusal was impossible.

“I don’t want to go home…” It came out quiet, almost whining. Now half sat up, I was looking him in his eyes, pouting. He pulled me up from my seat the rest of the way and began to drag me out of the bar, laying a few big bills on the counter before our exit.

“I never said you had to go home.” I would’ve missed what he said if not for the sudden change of scenery. Outside the bar was cold, quiet. So quiet. Letting go of my hand, he grabbed a cellphone from his pocket and began calling someone. My whole body buzzed from how quickly I was brought upright and outdoors. Slowly swaying side to side, feeling the wind brush past me. Turning to the man, I watched him pull out a cigarette and bring it to his lips. A cloud of smoke bloomed shortly after as we stood on the sidewalk outside the bar.

“… cab will be here soon.” I was too focused on the way he looked in the streetlights to fully hear what he said. He was glowing, his features accentuated by the dramatic light shining down on us. “You there kid?” His fingers snapped in my face.

“Yeah, sorry…” Fighting myself not to gawk at him again became a challenge. “Where are you bringing me?” He glanced up the road, blinding headlights coming into sight.

“You can take my couch until you’re coherent,” he tossed the last of his cigarette to the ground, putting out the embers with his boot, “then you can go home in the morning.” The cab was here now, screeching to a halt. Grabbing my shoulder again, he guided me to the back of the vehicle, opening the door and motioning me in. Climbing in was hard, I was disoriented from everything I drank. He quickly joined me in the backseats, murmuring an address to the driver and slouching back into the seat next to me. What the fuck is my life… I relaxed as the cab began its route, my vision getting darker by the minute. As I swayed with the rhythm of the car, sleep took over…

[blacklegsanjiii]

i absolutely adore your young sanji au!! If you don't mind, could you write more about him? Like, how did the other crews that know him react to his actual age? Or even some random interactions between the straw hats after finding out!

I'M TRYING TO BE ALIVE AGAIN I PROMISE I AM SO SORRY

Young!Sanji!!! Ahh, lovely boy, precious and soft and absolutely hating everyone find out how old he actually is. He feels no one takes him seriously after they find out. They always falter and stumble and it just...doesn't feel good to him?

I feel like Law finding out would full on make him trip and face plant into the ground because Robin probably mentions it off handedly but knowingly. She knows Sanji doesn't like Law calling him Stealth Black and this seems to be the quickest way for her to stop it. Sanji is walking ahead of them to a tea house somewhere while they're in Wano. Like she specifically phrases it in a way to show how cruel Judge is and when Law full stumbles it makes Sanji look and ask what's wrong. Law is stumbling up onto his feet and is confused and asks Sanji if he's really /seventeen/ and Sanji says he is with a shrug. Law knows he's not the youngest on the crew but understands because of his love of the Sora comics that they were closer to the truth than he had realized, even after the raid suit. Germa was far worse than he knew to even its own children. When they're sat and drinking tea, Law can't help but ask why he is physically not seventeen. Sanji just goes 'ahaha, that's Germa for you' and Law is reeling that the cook is also a child on the crew. Law doesn't really change how he acts with the cook though, he doesn't see his age, only his accomplishments which are numerable even if he was twenty one, he just admires the guy more now.

Sanji is not pleased at how people keep trying to baby him after finding out how old he is and how his family is, the rescue team is especially bad. Chopper keeps asking for more and more check ups on him and Sanji is trying to just deal with it, Zoro seems to be holding back during their spars when he doesn't have to be, when they're out at a bar he keeps stealing Sanji's drinks even though he's not even buzzed yet and Zoro hates wine. Zoro, for the life of him he doesn't want to view the cook differently, but finding out about the experiments and how young Sanji was when he went through everything that led him to Zeff makes him softer. He fucking hates it but he feels like he needs to give the cook an actual chance at being a child that was denied to him. Even if he didn't get a chance he and the other kids at the dojo did play as well as train, especially when they were younger, before he left and he plays with Luffy and Chopper all the time. So when he assists Robin and Nami with the cook and making the guy take breaks. He's started doing the dishes fully on his own and shoving the cook out of the kitchen after meals.

I feel like when Zeff found out his kid wasn't ten, his kid is six and looks ten. Zeff frowns deeply at the boy who acts like a ten year old in a lot of ways, most ways, a fucked up and traumatized one albeit, but he's still ten. Except he's not and Sanji's age really shows when people flirt or try to take him to their ships for activities more fitting for an adult or teenager. Except he's not one of those, he's twelve when someone first propositions him and Zeff loses it at the customer and talks to Sanji about what they're doing, what people want from him and that he gets to decide if he wants to or not. Because Sanji is physically four years older than he actually is and Zeff wants to kill the fucking bastard that did this to the kid. Zeff knows his kid is younger than he looks but he treats the boy like how he holds himself, he's smart, impulsive, thinks he owes his life to Zeff when he doesn't. Goddammit Zeff wants him to act like a damn kid but the kid doesn't want to! Kid feels like he can't because the kid needs to be useful so on the rare nights the Baratie is closed Zeff and the others will take the kid out to the upper deck or the top of the restaurant and teach him the constellations and if the kid falls asleep it's all the better.

The kid will never act his real age, but he has people to make sure he's taken care of. That's more than enough for Sanji.

[tossawary]

This is going to come up in "Some Unknown Corner", but I don't know how explicitly it'll come up, like, terminology-wise, so... saying it more explicitly here if you want to try and look out for this detail in coming chapters. Minor spoilers for a character issue that will become a later plot point.

I'm going to try to explore Yue Qingyuan having claustrophobia, specifically a fear of being shut in underground spaces in particular. This man has wild amounts of willpower and will generally refuse to be vulnerable, so he does NOT let on to this fact in obvious ways, even when forced to be underground temporarily, but he HATES the experience. On the edge of a panic attack, feeling like he's dying, still smiling pleasantly somehow.

Yue Qi goes back into the Ling Xi Caves with Shen Jiu as disciples in one of the Qijiu extras. In this case, I think he was a little fearful (not irrationally, honestly) of something bad happening to Shen Jiu, so he forced himself to be there despite the fact that he hated being there the entire time. (My general headcanon is that Yue Qi genuinely doesn't remember huge chunks of his confinement due to the trauma of it all.) By the time he's the sect leader, over ten years later, he's calmed down enough to let Shen Yuan go in there alone to cultivate. (Maybe Shen Qingqiu threw him out another time later down the line as disciples.)

In SVSSS, Yue Qingyuan goes into the Ling Xi Caves again, I believe, in order to get stronger and potentially get Shen Qingqiu's body back from Luo Binghe. When Luo Binghe invades Cang Qiong, Yue Qingyuan has apparently hastily had to exit seclusion at a delicate time. Was he trying to heal the Xuan Su sword issue as much as possible? Are visits to the Ling Xi Caves a regular medical treatment for him? Why didn't he go into the Ling Xi Caves to get stronger / potentially heal his broken relationship with his sword any earlier? I'm imagining Yue Qingyuan honestly having to force himself to go cultivate alone through a fairly serious phobia, and Mu Qingfang being generally against it, because it seems more like Yue Qingyuan might accidentally work himself up into a terrified, traumatized episode of some kind and die due to another qi deviation.

Being at Mai Gu Ridge sucked for many reasons. It sucked for everyone, really.

Yes, Yue Qi having claustrophobia does make his being blinded in "Some Unknown Corner" worse. (He's holding steady (barely) based on being able hear other people around him + smells + Shen Jiu's touch.) He's really not having a fun time! He's a practical guy and he really doesn't like panicking, so he is SHOVING IT OUT OF MIND, which is not great. I already view Yue Qi as disabled in SVSSS canon due to the Xuan Su sword issue, and the story keeps putting him in positions (sect leader) where he cannot "afford" to be disabled (he has to try to save everyone else), and it is continuously fucking him up. He needs some real rest so, SO badly.

[cyberphuck]

The Patreon Post

SO HERE'S THE DEAL: I do not want to make anyone have to pay to see my art.

Let's be real: there are like fifty bajillion other, more skilled, and better-known artists on Patreon putting out more detailed, more unique, more in-demand, and just more art than I am (or want to). I'm a self-taught, frequently distracted amateur who's had an iPad for a year. I'm not gonna pretend that I am going to be able to pull in more Patreon subs-- or keep them, for that matter-- on the strength of my random doodles alone. I have never really thought or even hoped that I could do that, because it would mean Doing Art As A Job, and I absolutely do not want to associate "drawing" with "work." (I also don't have the means, time, motivation or experience to self-promote and/or keep a small community of followers entertained, and even the thought of having to do all that on top of having to Draw For Work is terrifying.) There's the self esteem-destroying gutpunch that someone with BPD (me haha!) receives when they ask if something they created is "worth" a certain amount and are answered with silence. (If you have BPD, you know that 'silence' is so much worse than 'no.') I don't think that anyone is actually saying my work is worthless any more than I think stairs were invented to fuck over people with bad knees, but I want to avoid one for the same reason I avoid the other: hurts and bad for healing. And also, maybe most importantly, most of the fans of my work are my friends, and most of my friends are poor people. I do not ever want someone to have to choose between "Eggman weeping as he cradles a slain Speedy Gonzales" and "rent." Lots of people I know just don't have any money to spare even for professionally made entertainment, or, like me, sometimes they have money (yay, beginning of the month!) and sometimes they don't (booo, end of the month). I'm not gonna put a paywall between my friends and my art. So, as always, you can view all of my art on Patreon for free, without an account*. (*you will have to have an account to view NSFW stuff but this will be in the 'free' tier as well.) H O W E V E R. You guys I am so fucking poor. If you follow my blog you know the whole story already-- mental illness, chronic illness, chronic mental illness, surprise rescue puppies, surprise fines from the city, the fukken recently concussed clown show that is social services in my area-- and you've seen me having to crowdfund for everything from food to gas to dog emergencies. We budget down to the cent and have cut out so many things (like the meal replacement shakes for my eating disorder lol) and we're still not making ends meet. I've got friends who help, and they help a lot, but I hate the miserable, humiliating task of asking for help every single month. (You guys also know that I don't have family that can help me, even if shit goes critical. I was on my own while I was a homeless sex worker, on my own when we lived in a shed with no windows, on my own when we were in a house with no heat and only one source of running water, and definitely on my own now, in desperate need of mobility aids, house cleaners, and a god damn break.)

So here's where I'm at: I can't ask a few people for a lot of support, but I can ask a bunch of people for a little bit. If you like my art and want to help me keep making it, want to help me make shitpost replies to people on the internet, want to help me do free askbox art challenges: Put your doodle prompt requests in the askbox. You can even request stuff anonymously! Participate in polls about what prompts you wanna see. Reblog the art you like, show off the doodle you got, leave keysmashes in the tags. The more people see the post, the more statistically likely it is we'll find the one person on Tumblr with disposable income. Also, people should know they can get free art when the prompts are live! Sub to the Patreon if you can spare three bucks a month (you can also do Ko-fi if you don't want to make a Patreon account). Ko-fi is also a good place to just plunk something into the tip jar once in a while. There are Artcards and Monthly Sketch sub tiers on Patreon for a little bit more, but I will send an Artcard to pretty much anyone who asks as long as I have some left. The art is free, it will always be free. But if you can, spare a dollar (or three).

[xclowniex]

I just need to rant about Youssef Haddad for a moment cause I’ve been thinking about this a lot and you said you accept random ramblings. Just to start off, I don’t agree with quite a bit of the stuff he says, but I also don’t want to dive into a judgment of his politics and the way he presents them or whatever. So onto the main point— I think the reason so many people hate Youssef so much is because he is very Arab and very Israeli. That’s kind of obvious, but I want to elaborate

Like, I think a lot of radical leftists, Hamasniks, anti-Israels, whatever you want to call them, think of Arab Israelis as just living in Israel, not seeing themselves as Israeli or as Israel being their home and country. This is just the place they’ve ended up in for whatever reasons. Which is an experience that definitely exists, and it’s completely fine, but it’s also not the experience of a lot of other Arabs in Israel. Youssef Haddad is so undeniably Israeli, like you can just tell that Israel is his county and that he’s proud of that. And that makes a lot of people very angry

It’s that cognitive dissonance, the fact that so many people have built their image of Arabs being completely incompatible with Israel. So they see an Arab man who is also Israeli, and it’s not out of convenience or anything like that, he just genuinely is Israeli, and they just can’t compartmentalise that information with the ideology they’ve already built. But they can’t change any of their views on Israel, no, that would make them an evil imperialist apartheid Jew loving Zionist apologist! So instead the only thing they can do is become fucking enraged

Youssef Haddad makes them so mad because he’s not a token to them. He’s an Arab man who isn’t ashamed of being Arab (ffs he’s not a ‘blood traitor’ for being Israeli, you sound like a white supremacist), but he’s useless to them. He’s worse than useless, he’s actively a problem to their one dimensional, Jew hating ideology that refuses to stop fetishising Arabs and Arab struggles. And that’s the thing about tokenisation— it only lasts as long as you’re useful. As soon as you don’t fit the cutout stereotype they’ve built for you to try to contort yourself into, they not only toss you away, but they hate you with vitriol. It’s why I genuinely can’t see any of these people actually caring about Arabs (and Palestinians especially). When the only reason you advocate for a group is so that you can fetishise and tokenise them, then maybe you’re not really advocating for them after all

As soon as you don’t fit the cutout stereotype they’ve built for you to try to contort yourself into, they not only toss you away, but they hate you with vitriol.

100% this. Its why people think that Drake can no longer call himself black or Taika Waititi Maori. Your ethnicity only matters if it can be weaponized

It’s why I genuinely can’t see any of these people actually caring about Arabs (and Palestinians especially). When the only reason you advocate for a group is so that you can fetishise and tokenise them, then maybe you’re not really advocating for them after all

Also 100% this.

[avocado-writing]

Omggg i hear your requests are open again??? Yayyy so excited so excited. I’ve been thinking ab smth angsty with Crowley where the reader has serious abandonment issues and Crowley accidentally triggers them. I would love it to be angsty but fluffy at the end bc I don’t want Crol to be sad :(

Tysm and i hope you have a fucking great week💕✨

notes: a phenomenal meme, thank you. I hope reader seems in character enough for abandonment issues!

pairing: crowley x reader

rating: T

He’s gone, and you’re worried it’s forever.

He’s had to go and do some work. Some demon work. When the two of you properly began getting together he had to tell you about his true nature; you were surprised and secretly a bit thrilled because, well, how many people have a demon in love with them? It made you feel very special indeed. And Crowley does love you so very deeply, you’ve never had a love like it before. Which made it sting all the worse when he had to go.

You were bickering about him leaving. He had to go to bloody Spain to perform some sort of temptation, and he knew you couldn’t get the time off work to come with him. You were begging him to stay, he was insisting he couldn’t, and as neither of you could see the other’s point of view voices began to get raised. It ended with him leaving you in your flat, slamming the door behind him in frustration.

You’ve not seen him for a week. It’s been driving you mad. He’s gone, hasn’t he? He’s gone forever. Just like every other person who’s walked into your life with claims that they love you only to disappear when things got difficult. You are unloveable, you are not worthy of anyone’s time. You do not deserve to experience anything other than heartbreak.

When he comes home he knows he’ll need to apologise. It doesn’t come easily to Crowley, admitting that he’s wrong, but he’ll find a way to force it out of himself for your sake. He shouldn’t have left how he did. It was unkind. Petty. A relationship shouldn’t be about trying to get the last word in an argument, and he feels very small indeed.

He knocks at the door to your flat and, when it isn’t answered, he miracles the lock open and walks in. Maybe he can get started on dinner. Maybe coming home to the smell of cooking and him being all grovelly will make things better.

This plan is stopped in its tracks when he finds you curled up in a blanket on the sofa. You look terrible. Tired, miserable, and ever so small. You take one look at him and recoil.

“What do you –”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley says. It’s not forced or uncomfortable as it usually is when he’s made to apologise, but sincere. An apology is not a plaster, though, and you still look raw and wounded as he sits on the opposite end of the couch. You wince as he reaches out to touch you.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” is all the explanation that you can muster.

“Oh, darling. I’m…” he wracks his brain for something that’s a suitable apology, but can come up with nothing better than another “I’m sorry.”

Tears begin to fall down your cheeks and you seem furious at them, wiping them away with the edge of your blanket, but still unable to get them to stop.

“I thought you were done with me. That you hated me.”

“Come here,” says Crowley, bundling you in his arms and pulling you onto his lap. You cry a little, at him, at yourself, at being so stupid. “I don’t hate you. I’d never hate you. I think it’s impossible, actually. I was just being a twat. I’ll even do the dance if you want me to.”

You laugh into his shirt and he’s relieved.

“No, keep that dance for Aziraphale. I think he’d be annoyed if he found out you did it for me.”

You look into his eyes, and he moves his sunglasses up so he can meet your gaze properly.

“Don’t leave me,” you whisper, voice trembling a little.

“I won’t. I swear.”

Taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @this--is--music @ilyatan @lxsm2 @clarina04@wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga@wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound

[strangersteddierthings]

Writing Prompt for this list, requested by @suddenlyinlove. #42. "His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow." and #30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Details - This is an AU with a twist I don't wanna spoil so like... suspend your disbelief please. Period-typical homophobia and thus, the use of slurs derogatorily. Stir clear if that is triggering.

Posted on Ao3 because it is long (9.7k) and it might be easier to read there for some.

-

August 25, 1984 - Two Days Before the Start of School

There's a good view of the whole party from their dark corner of the yard, where Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are huddled around him. Eddie'd told Carol Perkins he'd show but only if his friends could come, too. If she wanted weed, then his friends could have beer.

Plus, if he was going to suffer, they were going to suffer. That's what friendship was about.

"His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow," Eddie mutters, glaring in the general direction of Steve 'The Hair' Harrington as he laughs at something (he's clutching his beer awfully tight for someone having fun- Nope, Eddie doesn't care).

"Right? Can see it ballooning right before our eyes," Jeff says. This is why Jeff is his best friend. They hate on the same things. People. Whatever.

"Sorry for you guys," Eddie fakes sympathy, "once I graduate, I won't have to deal with it. Let me know if anyone shoves you into a locker though. I'll slash some tires or refuse to sale 'em weed. Whichever hurts them more."

"You said that last year," Gareth says. "And yet."

Eddie pretends to stab himself in the heart, falling to the ground dramatically, gasping like he was dying before finally stilling, staring as unblinking as he could at the sky.

Jeff nudges him with his foot, "good riddance, Munson. People will remember you weirdly."

Eddie breaks character to grin up, lifting a hand that Jeff takes and helps pull him up. "Remembered weirdly is what it's all about."

"Speaking of weird, Harrington's being... weird," Gareth says, tilting his head slightly, still looking in the direction they'd all been looking at just moments before. "When you just dropped he like... I dunno. Weird."

"What, weird how. What did he do?" Eddie whips to look at Harrington, who is looking back, looking worried, and is slightly closer than he was before. Eddie watches as Harrington's eyes track his entire self, looking for what, Eddie can't even begin to understand. He can visibly see the tension leave Harrington's body, pretty sure even his friends clocked that (even though they have less experience in the Harrington-watching department than himself).

"When you dropped, he like... rushed forward. I think he caught how fucking weird that would be for him to do 'cause he stopped just as quickly. That's weird, right?"

"Really fucking weird."

Harrington steps back into his friend group, more on the outside than he was before. (Did seem like people loved Hargrove a bit more than Harrington these days).

Eddie and his friends go back to trash talking everyone they can set their eyes on. It's easy to do, what with being ignored in the corner again. Occasionally Eddie is flagged down by someone, or they try and make eye contact (which is worse), so he huffs as though put upon and marches off to a different corner of the Perkins' backyard to sale his contraband.

(If he's marking it up, well, these rich kids can afford it.)

Anyway, their trash talk always seems to come back to Harrington. None of them acknowledge it out loud but Harrington's the easiest to shit talk in public because he's the safest. He's egotistical, kinda airheaded, and an asshole, but in a different way than Hagan or Jackson or most of the other jocks.

Harrington is the kind of asshole that you introduce yourself to 15 times and unless you're 'popular' he doesn't bother to remember he's already met you. Hagan and Jackson are assholes that give you a swirlee if you sneeze wrong near them, or will call you a fag before gut punching you behind the bleachers because they think they caught you staring at them (which Eddie was not ((It was Harrington he was staring at)).

He's safe to shit talk because he doesn't get physical (couldn't win a fight if the rumors were true (Also they all saw how he looked after Jonathan got him)) and rarely gets confrontational (less so with each passing year). Eddie thinks that's his ego - he's so full of himself that anything you say about him can't possibly affect him. (What are the words of a peasant in the face of a king, after all?)

That's not to say they haven't fucked up and said something at just the right time to provoke Harrington in the past, because they all have, but it's typically his lackeys that jump in defense, that say something first to defend Harrington. And The King will let them bark and growl just enough to put the peasants back in their place, calming his dogs with words of 'they're not worth it' and 'if what he said meant anything it would have hurt, wouldn't it?' which is just rude. Like Eddie and his friends aren't even people capable of drawing Harrington's attention, much less his wrath.

If Eddie's honest with himself (he's not), he would stop to question why he even wants to provoke a reaction from Harrington (it's because of his stupid crush), but Eddie's not honest so...

The point is, they feel pretty comfortable trash talking Harrington in hushed whispers to themselves in a corner of Carol Perkins' yard.

"Do you think he, like, genuinely thinks he looks cool when he does that?" Gareth whispers as they watch Harrington shotgun a beer, again.

"Dunno, probab-" Jeff cuts himself off, a quizzical expression on his face as he turns his head to look towards the Perkins' house. He's got ears that pick up everything, so Eddie just watches as he moves away from the group to the fence. Watches as Jeff jumps to look over. When he lands, he flips quickly back to them, looking between them and the group of party goers. He takes a moment, assessing his options it seems, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "Cops in bound! Just turned onto the street!"

The party starts scattering instantly, teens running in all directions.

Brian and Gareth eye the back fence and Eddie knows immediately they're not going to jump it. Eddie throws Gareth the keys to his van, "get Jeff and go."

They don't argue, they've done this song and dance before. Eddie knows they might get a stern talking to for smelling like beer but if Eddie's in the van with them, they're all ending up in jail because of what's in his lunchbox. (Hell, they'd still get a night in jail instead of just a warning for the beer if Eddie's in the van without the lunchbox).

Eddie's not the most athletic but he's gotta run. He tosses his lunchbox over the back fence before hauling himself up, one leg over and trying to get the other when he gets high-centered for a moment before gravity starts to pull him down (thankfully on the correct side of the fence) only to find the chain on his jeans catches along something at the top, leaving him to cling quickly to the fence, praying he can muster enough upper body strength to haul himself back up enough to unstick the chain before the cops get here. He tries to readjust and his hand slips, he can't get any leverage. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He's so screwed. Officer Callihan said if he was caught again, he'd be tried as an adult. Wayne's going to kill him. Why won't these stupid jeans just rip, how has the chain not given way yet? He's going to get caught with his lunchbox right at his feet. He's-

Being shoved back up, someone's shoulder digging painfully into his ribcage to get the leverage needed for Eddie's body to be high enough for the stranger's hand to sneak up and unstick the chain. Eddie expects to be dumped suddenly and unceremoniously on the ground but this does not happen. Instead, his mysterious hero manages to keep him pinned up on the fence long enough to turn themselves so both of the stranger's arms are under Eddie and then they kind of just... sink together, using the fence as a counterweight by leaning into but not actually dragging Eddie down against it.

The culmination of which ends with Eddie being held like some blushing bride in Steve Harrington's lap. Eddie opens his mouth to say... something. What, he doesn't know, but Harrington lifts a finger to his lips to signal him to be quiet. So, he stays quiet, heart pounding.

It takes about five full seconds before the sounds of the cops busting the party actually start, the sirens on the cars flipping on to let the scattering teens know they've been caught. In that same instance, Harrington sweeps up Eddie's lunch box and shoves it onto his chest, where one of Eddie's hands comes up to wrap around and hold it close on instinct, the sound the metal handle clanging on the metal lid meaningless in all the other sounds happening.

Using his other hand, Harrington basically folds Eddie forward and out of his lap, back on his own feet in a crouch. Harrington shoves his chin forward, a silent instruction to move but Eddie's still wrapping his head around the fact he's no longer dangling from a wooden fence like an idiot, so Harrington steps forward, a hand wrapping around the wrist of Eddie's free hand, forcing him to follow along as they stealth along the wooden fence of the Perkins' residence, then the fence of the neighbors, and finally a third neighbor before the fences run off and all that's left is the woods that boarder the town one way, and a way back to the road on the other.

Eddie should pull his wrist free and book it, run as fast and as far from Harrington and this party as he can get but he's kind of star struck right now (he can be a little honest with himself, as a treat). He just follows, lets Harrington jerk him around (don't even think it Munson, do not think about it-) and follows quietly.

Harrington peeks around the end of the fence, looking for any incoming trouble, Eddie assumes, and quickly jerks back, looking to Eddie, "you trust me, man?"

And Eddie, the idiot, says, "Yeah, man."

Harrington grabs his lunchbox, ripping it away from him with ease (Eddie's still star struck, okay?) and shoves it up against the fence, twisting his body as he does, so he ends up sitting with his back to this fence, body blocking sight of the lunchbox before pulling Eddie into his lap.

This is what brings Eddie back into his body. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just don't punch me until I get the cop that's gonna round the fence any time now to go away."

Eddie could bolt but he's not particularly fast, so he'd be caught, and he knows the odds. Between himself and Harrington, they'll book him and let Harrington go with a warning. So, Harrington thinks he can get the cop to go away? Okay. He lets Harrington manhandle him (don't think it don'tthinkit don't-) He's absolutely thinking it because Harrington grabs his ass and pulls him flush against him before a hand cups the back of his head and shoves his face into Harrington's neck, and then Harrington whispers in his ear, "just pretend we've been making out back here for the last half hour."

Fuck! Harrington's trying to get him shot by the goddamn police. He is an idiot and should have known better than to trust him. Well. If Harrington thinks he can get away from this unscathed, he's sorely mistaken. Eddie lifts his hands to ruffle Harrington's perfect hair before gripping it roughly with one hand, the other moving to brace himself on the fence, then he latches onto Harrington's neck, intent on giving Harrington the biggest, ugliest hickie of his life. Try and explain that away you asshole.

Except Harrington's reaction isn't what Eddie had thought it would be. Instead of being shoved, the hands on his ass and in his hair squeeze, seemingly trying to get Eddie closer and that is definitely a moan his hears, breathed directly into his ear. It eggs Eddie on a bit, truthfully, so he pulls back a little, less set on just marking Harrington and a little more set on seeing if he can make Harrington actually enjoy it.

Eddie presses kisses over the bit of skin he'd just bit like a wild animal and runs his tongue up to gently pull at Harrington's earlobe, before kissing his way back down to suck at the same spot some more. Harrington keeps switching from squeezing at him to petting him and Eddie's not really going to complain. The police can come shoot him. He'll die- well, not happy but at least alright.

"Jesus Christ, kid!"

Eddie tries to jerk away, a reflex because that's Chief Hopper's voice and he's so fucking screwed, but Harrington keeps him moored there, face hidden, hand cradling his head more gently than it has been thus far, the hand on his ass moving up to his lower back, holding him closer... dare he say, protectively.

"Hopper," Harrington sounds more calm than Eddie thought he would, "hi."

Eddie wishes he could see what is happening because there is an awful lot of silence going on in which he can only assume Hopper and Harrington are staring at each other. (Having a silent conversation, perhaps?)

Then the heaviest sigh he's ever heard from Chief Hopper (and he's heard some heavy ones in his days) greets the air, "I don't want to know who that is. Just this once, I am going to pretend I didn't see you here. You'd think that you would learn- Next time you and your boyfriend sneak away from a party to- just go to his house. Jesus, if it had been anyone but me walking around this corner... Give it about twenty minutes before you leave." The sound of retreating footsteps and Hopper's voice reporting in his walkie an 'all clear' follow those words.

They don't part immediately. Eddie waits until the footsteps cannot be heard before pulling back. Harrington makes no move to remove his hands from Eddie's person, so as a result the hand that was in Eddie's hair falls to his shoulder, then his chest, where it rests now that he's back far enough to look at Harrington. The moon is bright, and Eddie's eyes have adjusted to the dark of the evening, so he can see Harrington's face. "How the fuck did that just work?"

Harrington gives an almost hysterical sounding giggle before he tries to drop his head back to rest on the fence. He can't successfully do that, because Eddie realizes he's still cradling Harrington's head with one hand.

He makes no motion to move his hand, just holds Harrington's head up as he seems to be going through... something right now.

It takes several minutes, but finally he speaks. "It's kinda personal. Let's just say, Hopper and I got history, a- well, a good history isn't how I'd put it, but like, we're on the same page with it."

"Did you fuck Hopper?"

Harrington laughs out loud and Eddie slaps his other hand (the one not currently petting his soft, soft hair) over his mouth to muffle the noise. That sobers Harrington a little, remembering the 'wait twenty minutes' thing and once it seems like he's got it together again, Eddie removes his hand.

"No. Nothing like that with Hopper."

Eddie's a bit hung up on that fact Harrington is not immediately shouting that he's not a fag and would never have slept with the chief of police, a man. "You're really not gonna tell me."

"No."

They just kind of look at each other after that. Eddie's not sure what to do now. He should get out of Harrington's lap, right? That's a thing he should definitely be doing right now.

But.

But Harrington isn't shoving him off. In fact, his eyes are half closed as he stares at Eddie, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet his own, so Eddie feels like he can confidently say King Steve is looking at his lips. Eddie licks his lips, a test of sorts.

Harrington passes, because his tongue flicks out to lick his own lips.

"Hey, Eddie," (what the fuck. Harrington has never, not once, said his name, and Eddie has re-introduced himself several times.) "I want to kiss you. Can I?"

Oh.

Eddie's never been asked that before.

Gross. Eddie's got fucking butterflies in his stomach from Steve fucking Harrington.

Eddie wants to say yes so fucking bad but- well, his whole world view of Steve Harrington has just been rocked and now a ball of guilt is forming inside him for how he's marked up Harrington's neck like a wanton slut and Harrington asks for a kiss. But Harrington is also, at minimum, five beers in plus the weed, so he's clearly not thinking straight (ha fucking ha) because he wouldn't be asking him for a kiss if he was.

"No," Eddie says softly, "you're drunk. If you still wanna kiss me in the daylight, ask then."

Harrington scrunches his face and Eddie doesn't know him well enough to decipher what that look means, but he nods, sitting up so he can lean forward and nuzzle his face into Eddie's chest, bumping the top of his head against Eddie's chin like a cat.

Eddie leans his head atop Harrington's and lets himself be cuddled.

What a weird fucking night.

-

"Jeff!" Eddie flings himself on his friend's couch the next day, face down in the cushions, his voice mumbled as he continues, "I don't know what to do."

Jeff, ever patient with Eddie, just folds his legs at the knee and sits on the couch, dropping his legs back down and into his lap. "The way I see it, you do nothing."

"Nothing?"

"You sound extra pathetic mumbling into the couch. Nothing. If Harrington wants to kiss you, he'll ask again. If he doesn't, or tries to turn this on you, remind him he's the one that let another boy mark him up. You don't know if you can trust him."

Eddie musters all his strength to turn his head to the side so he can breath again. "You're right. As usual."

"Try not to sound so annoyed and disappointed."

"I should trust the Munson doctrine. If it's too good to be true, then it's not true," Eddie says as he wiggles forward, out of Jeff's lap and onto his knees, shuffling around until he's sitting cross-legged on the center cushion.

"Maybe, maybe not. Like, we know Harrington's an asshole but he's not mean," Jeff says. "besides, maybe being dumped by Nancy Wheeler for Jonathan Byers might have shaken some decency into him. Humility, even."

Suppose they'll learn if that's true tomorrow. "You can't tell anyone what I told you."

"Duh. Blackmail only works if the leverage you have is still a secret."

-

“Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Brian all look up at the same time. Harrington isn't even holding a lunch tray, hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket, striped polo tucked into light wash jeans under his opened jacket, Eddie's hickie only half hidden by the polo's collar.

Eddie's eyes scan the cafeteria quickly. Hawkins is a small town, so it stands to reason the schools are too. There are literal, completely empty tables. So, Eddie's eyes go to the table Harrington usually sits at.

Ah.

Everyone there is looking over. Watching. Waiting, probably. This is the trick. The joke. If Eddie lets him sit, they've pegged him for the desperate fag they all tell him he is.

"'Fraid this table is full, too," Eddie says, careful to sound bored as he says it, looking directly at Harrington.

Harrington's eyes widen slightly, like he hadn't expected Eddie to deny him. Well, joke backfired, buddy.

"I.... see," Harrington says slowly. "My mistake."

And they all watch him leave with such little fanfare that Eddie's wondering if he misread the situation. Was Harrington actually wanting to sit with them- but no. He watches as Harrington returns to his table, to the royalty of Hawkins High. Hagan says something to him and Harrington just shrugs with one shoulder before plopping onto the bench.

They wait for Harrington to start up conversation, for the leering and mocking to start up but it doesn't. Harrington just sits there in silence.

"What... was that?" Gareth asks, looking away from the Royalty to look at Eddie.

"Got no idea," Eddie lies, even as Jeff is leveling him with a look he refuses to acknowledge.

-

November 7th, 1984

Harrington was absent yesterday (not that Eddie keeps track) and now here Harrington is, slinking into the American History class they share for first period, face busted to shit. Eddie does a double take because he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him but no. Harrington looks worse than when Jonathan got him.

Eddie spends the first twenty minutes of class just watching Harrington. Harrington slides into his chair and keeps his head down, eyes closed most of the time. Every now and then he winces and drops his head into his hands, palms digging into eyes. He looks bad.

Then Harrington goes a little green around the gills and looks like he's forcing himself to swallow down vomit and Eddie's done watching the sad display. "Hey, Miss Click, I think Harrington's gonna lose his breakfast all over the back of Thompson if he doesn't get outta here soon."

Miss Click looks like she's gonna give him detention again but then she looks at Harrington and must agree with his assessment. "Help him to the nurses office, Eddie."

Normally Eddie would argue but Harrington is also looking at him now and he really wants to know what happened so instead of arguing, he stands. Harrington does, too, grabbing his bag from the floor and shuffling towards the door.

The halls are empty and Steve makes it maybe ten feet down the hall before he falls against the lockers, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Come on, Harrington," Eddie grabs his backpack from him and shoulders it, then pulls one of Harrington's arms around him. "Just keep your eyes closed. I won't walk you into any walls."

"Thanks."

It's so quiet, Eddie's not sure he was even meant to hear it. They walk in silence a bit more before Eddie asks, "so, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, sure. Nothing causes this all the time."

"What'd'ya care."

Fair. That's fair. He shut Harrington down quickly at the beginning of the year. And Eddie's had plenty of time to concede it might have been the wrong thing to do. Harrington really wasn't setting him up to be a joke, or a punching bag, because if he had been, Eddie would have been jumped by now. Especially since it's fairly common knowledge that Harrington has fallen from grace, replaced by Billy Hargrove. A whole asshole and a half, that one.

They're silent all the way to nurse and even after Harrington vanishes behind the door, Eddie loiters in the hall. He doesn't care about getting back to class. Whatever is happening with Harrington is so much more important.

Another period later and Harrington is shoving himself through the door, even as the nurse protests behind him.

"I'll be fine, really. I'm sure my mom's not answering because she's not near the phone. There's no need to worry," Harrington catches sight of Eddie then. He looks surprised, but says to the nurse, "Eddie here will drive me home. I promise I won't be driving with a concussion."

She looks past Harrington to Eddie and he finds himself nodding frantically. The nurse, not paid enough to argue with teenagers, nods back and Harrington escapes back into the hall without argument.

"You need a ride?"

"I can drive myself."

"Absolutely not. You just said you were concussed."

Harrington looks like he wants to argue more but before he can, he folds a bit into himself, hands pressing into eyes again.

"Look, I owe you anyway, alright. Let me repay."

There's a long silence, then, "okay."

Eddie walks into Gareth's third period class and deposits the keys to his van to him with instructions to pick him up from Harrington's after school (Jeff is his best friend, but Gareth is the safer driver) before helping Harrington limp his way to his own car, where he hands over his keys very forlornly and climbs into his car. Eddie takes the driver's seat and they're off.

"You gonna give me directions, Harrington?"

"You've been to my house before."

This is true. He just didn't know Harrington remembered that. Hagan had invited Eddie to deal there, once; Harrington himself, twice. He didn't know Harrington had even remembered he was there. "Didn't know you remembered that."

"You've been to my house four times."

"Three."

Harrington lull his head to the side to squint (is he trying to glare?) at Eddie. "Four."

Four? Eddie didn't remember- oh. Harrington's ninth birthday party. Eddie was invited, one of the few who hadn't been in Harrington's class to get an invitation. He was in fifth grade, Harrington in fourth. It was shortly after Wayne had brought him to Hawkins.

"Your birthday party. Why'd you even invite me to that?"

Harrington doesn't answer.

-

"I thought you said your mom was home," Eddie says as he follows Harrington into his house.

"I lied."

"Clearly," Eddie says, looking around as he continues to follow Harrington upstairs.

Harrington just allows it, which Eddie wants to question but won't because he's working out how to apologize for the first day of school without apologizing.

"If you're here alone, who's waking you up to make sure you aren't dead?"

"No one. And clearly, I am not dead."

"Someone's supposed to wake you every few hours, right?"

Harrington shrugs. "Don't need anyone to. Why, were you gonna offer?"

Was he? No. Maybe. He follows him all the way to his plaid hellscape of a room, watches as Harrington flicks on his light, then tries to block the sunlight with his sad curtains and gives up quickly, opting to toe himself out of his shoes and crawl under his covers instead.

It's fucking pathetic.

Eddie leaves Harrington's room to start opening and closing doors around the upstairs. Rich people always have a- yes! A linen closet. Eddie pulls out the darkest towels and heads back to Harrington's room.

"You got tacks or nails or safety pins?"

Harrington pokes his head out from beneath his covers, squinting at Eddie. "Tacks in the cup on the dresser." then he disappears again. Quite an awfully lot of freedom Harrington seems to be giving him. He could be snooping through things.

He doesn't, though (yet). He uses almost all of the tacks to get the towels to stay up, but no sunlight breaches them when he's done. Then he turns off the light and closes the door, leaving it open just a crack, before sitting himself on the edge of Harrington's bed.

"I owe you an apology, Harrington," Eddie finds himself saying. Fuck. He was trying to do this without having to actually do it. Too late now.

"Oh," he hears in the near darkness Harrington's surprise, feels shuffling as Harrington must be moving to look at him. "Erm, why do you think you owe me an apology."

"For the first day of school. I thought- I thought it was a prank. Or a joke. A cruel one."

Eddie turns to see Harrington peering at him, just his nose and up visible, hair a static ruffled mess, the comforter held in place by one hand. "It wasn't."

"I know that now," Eddie whispers, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. "I just- I'm sorry. I did want you to sit."

Silence. Then, "I get it, Eddie. I wouldn't trust me either."

"I said I trusted you, that night," Eddie says, "and I did. I do? I think... I didn't trust myself, I think, enough to believe that you were truly being genuine with me. I was shitty to you. So, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Harrington says, "I'm gonna go to sleep now, my head is killing me. If you're hungry help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen. You're missing lunch period."

"You gonna sleep in your jeans?"

"Too much work to remove 'em," Harrington mumbles.

"Undo your belt and jeans."

"How forward," Harrington has an eyebrow raised.

"Just do it, ya tool," Eddie says with more bravado than he feels. He slides off the bed and watches the comforter shift as Harrington does as he's told. Eddie rounds to the end of the bed, pulling up the comforter and reaching under blind, finding Harrington's legs and trailing up to his knees to grasp of the jeans. "For your modesty. Lift your hips." Harrington does, and Eddie pulls. Harrington drops his hips back down once the jeans are near his knees, lifting his legs slightly instead, allowing Eddie to pull them off and drop them on the floor at the end of the bed. "Alright, sleep it off, Harrington."

Eddie leaves him to wander to the kitchen because he is hungry and missing lunch, and this free food is going to be infinitely better than whatever the cafeteria was offering simply because it's free.

The fridge has some leftovers in it, so Eddie helps himself to leftover chicken and mashed potatoes. He eats it standing in the kitchen.

Once done, he explores Castle Harrington. A big kitchen leads to a dining room, which rounds to a large living room with a wall of windows that lookout to the pool. Eddie's familiar with the backyard, where he'd station up and wait for people to buy. There's a little hall that leads from the living room to the stairs and front door, with another hall alone the middle of the wall there. It leads to a bathroom and a rec room, complete with pool table (fucking rich people) and another door farther still. It's locked but Eddie's a snoop, so he flips the latch and opens. It's an empty garage.

Eddie ends up removing his shoes, denim vest, and leather jacket, flopping down on Harrington's couch to channel surf, though his eyes keep flicking down to his watch. At the one-hour mark he sneaks back up to Harrington's room and looks for signs of life. Easy enough, Harrington snores.

He checks each hour. Eventually Gareth shows up, signaling his arrival with three sharp jabs to the horn of Eddie's van. Eddie heads out without putting anything back on.

"I'm staying. Harrington is not- it's not good, dude," Eddie says. "Looks like he got beat worse than I did when took a chance behind The Hideout."

Gareth's eyes go wide. Eddie'd gotten beaten for being gay (a busted lip and bruised ribs; would have been worse if the owner of The Hideout hadn't been stepping out back to smoke and ended up chasing away Eddie's assailant). "What happened?"

Eddie shrugs. "Don't know. But I gotta find out. I think he was being genuine with us, on the first day of school. I feel like I have to make sure he's okay."

Jeff leans forward to peer around Gareth from the passenger seat. "You feeling guilty, Munson?"

This is a conversation they've had several times. One Eddie never wins. "Well, yeah. If I'd let him be our friend, he might not have been wherever he was when he got the shit beat out of him. Might have been watching us at band practice or something instead."

Gareth makes a gagging noise. "Ew. You've got it so bad for Harrington. Polos? That's what gets you hot and bothered?"

Eddie feels his face go red. "Fuck off."

"Don't fuck up this time, Eddie," Jeff says before sitting back out of view.

"Call if you need a ride to school tomorrow," Gareth says before reversing out of Harrington's driveway.

Eddie waits until Harrington's gotten a full eight hours (most of which he spends snooping about the place) before going to wake him up. "Hey, you gotta get some food in you, I think. Up, up."

Harrington groans, but it sounds more annoyed than pained.

"Up, up, up, up," Eddie repeats, swatting lightly at Harrington's legs, occasionally grabbing to jiggle a leg.

"'m up. I'm up," Harrington says, sounding more like himself than he has all day. "Have you always been this annoying?"

"Call it the Munson Charm."

"Charm," Harrington repeats flatly.

"I already ate your mashed potatoes, so I'm hoping you're not wanting those for dinner. Lunch? Whatever."

Harrington throws the covers off, standing before Eddie in a polo shirt and plaid boxers. "Hey, Eddie. It's still daytime out there, yeah?"

"Yeah, didn't miss it."

"Cool, cool. Can I kiss you?"

Eddie freezes, remembering that's what he'd told Harrington to do. Ask him in the daylight. He does still want to kiss Harrington, but also, he's afraid. "First you ask drunk. Now you ask concussed. Still a no, buddy. It's gotta be daylight and without anything that could be messing with your mind."

Harrington takes the rejection well, just nods an okay and motions towards his door for Eddie to lead the way to the kitchen.

Harrington opts for a TV dinner, offering one to Eddie. He accepts, because, again, free food. Then they eat them at the dinner table like it's a real meal, instead of off of TV trays in the living room like normal people.

And the odd thing about it all is how not odd all of it is, actually. The last time they were alone together, Eddie ravished his neck like a goddamn vampire. And now they're just hanging out, chatting ideally like it's a thing they do all the time.

Eddie can see why Harrington became popular so quickly. He's easy to like when he's like this, soft spoken and kind. Eddie finds he wants to know if the guy sitting across from him is the real Harrington, or an act. Or was King Harrington the act? Eddie really hasn't known him enough to say that but he's seen this house. Conformity seems important to the Harringtons.

"You looked like you could use something to cheer you up," Harrington says, out of left field.

"What?"

"It's why I invited you to my ninth birthday. You'd just transferred to our school. Looked so sad all the time. Eight-year-old me hadn't experienced a sad birthday party, so I thought it would cheer you up."

Oh. "That's-" what is that? Sweet? Considerate in a way Eddie didn't think young Harrington possible of? "It worked. Your party was fun."

Harrington smiles at him, a soft and shy thing that makes the butterflies erupt in his stomach again. "Well, thanks for watching over me today. Made it easier to sleep, having someone else in the house."

"Anytime."

"You mean that?"

Does he? Eddie can't promise even himself that it will always be true, that he does really mean anytime, but it's true right now so he says, "yeah, man."

-

Being friends with Steve Harrington is so much easier than Eddie thought it could be.

Steve -because he's Steve now, not Harrington- doesn't come back to school the rest of the week, but he makes Eddie go, asking if he can gather his homework from his classes so he won't fall behind. And school has never been a real priority for Eddie (it is his second senior year) but hanging out with Steve has become important.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian even come over on Saturday evening, at Steve's insistence. He wants to be their friend, too, it seems. And what an odd thing to see, his friends and Steve lounging around his rec room, Brian beating all of them at pool so easily it should be humiliating. Steve chats with them all like it's easy, normal, a thing he enjoys doing.

He can see his friends keeping the topics safe, music, high school gossip, they even start to discuss their grades. Eddie is mostly listening because he's been chatting with Steve all week, so he can see his friends are steering clear of anything other. They don't bring up anything Steve wouldn't talk to other jocks about.

Leave it to Steve to throw them for a loop. "Hey, you guys are all in Hellfire, right?"

The room screeches to a stop, all eyes going to Steve. He's not sure what's showing on his own face, but he can see all his friend's faces. They look surprised.

"Yeah," Jeff finds his voice first. "We're the only members."

Steve nods, "right. You play Dungeons and Dragons?"

"You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?" Brian asks.

"Yeah," Steve shrugs, fiddling with the beer can in his hands, "I know that, it's like -Hellfire, that is-, a high school club but- oh, this is gonna sound bad. I can tell already."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, curious, "just say it, Harrington. If we don't like it, there's four of us and one of you. We'll give you a swirlee in your own damn toilet."

Steve laughs and that seems to be all the push he needed because he relaxes, setting the beer down on a coaster, "I know some super cool kids who'll be freshman next year. I think they'd really want to be in your club. But, uh, since Eddie and I will be graduating this year, I was wondering if you'd want to move your game from the school to here? So they can join in."

Eddie's brain shuts off. Steve knows some cool middle schoolers, who play Dungeons and Dragons, and thinks the should all come to Steve's house to do that. Play DnD together. (Steve also believes he's going to graduate this year, ha!)

"I'm sorry," Jeff says, laughter in his voice, "there's no such things as cool middle schoolers."

Steve frowns slightly, "well, these will be the first, then. They've got their own DM, his name's Will, but I think he could learn a lot from Eddie. And Dustin loves this game so much. But if they wait until next year to officially join the club, Eddie won't be there."

Steve knows that Eddie is the DM. Steve knows what a DM is. (Steve really believes he's going to graduate this year?). "How- what? How do you even know about Hellfire? Or that I'm the DM?"

"I go to school with you guys," Steve says, "I know I'm an asshole but I'm not oblivious. Just because I didn't acknowledge the existence of your club before now doesn't mean I was unaware of it."

Fair point.

"Alright. Let's have our next club meeting here instead of the school. You can bring these cool middle schoolers and we'll see. If they're just lame middle schoolers, we're going to be very disappointed."

"Great! You meet Thursdays, right? They'll be here."

-

Monday is the real test. Eddie's feeling some kind of way about Monday. It's lunch, and everyone is already at their usual tables except Steve, who hasn't arrived yet.

Jeff catches his eye and Eddie can see he's thinking the same thing. It was easy to be friends with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson behind closed doors and in front of people already his friend. But if Steve actually comes through those doors and sits at their table, he'll be a target. Fully and officially.

Of course, Eddie catches sight of Steve as soon as he does come in, sack lunch in hand. He watches as Steve doesn't even hesitate. He weaves his way around other teens and plops down at their table, into the space left available for him between Eddie and Gareth. Watches as Steve beams at him before pulling a fucking pb&j out of his stupid brown sack.

Eddie can hear the murmuring around them, catches Steve's name and his own, knows that they've all been noticed today. The outcome of what will happen because of this, unknown.

Eddie doesn't like the unknown.

He might be willing to face it, though, if Steve keeps smiling at him.

-

The week passes. No one says anything to him. Steve sits at their table every day.

Thursday comes and he gets to meet some pretty cool middle schoolers, though unexpected ones. Will, the DM, turns out to be Will Byers, who was dead and then not dead and also the little brother of the guy who beat Steve up and stole his girlfriend (what the hell sparked this kids friendship with Steve?). Mike Wheeler, little brother of said ex-girlfriend. Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson are the last two. Eddie has never heard of these two, and therefore doesn't have any opinions just yet.

The kids know their stuff but they don't end up playing. Character creation takes some time, and Eddie's gotta think about how to incorporate four new characters (he was expecting one lame middle schooler, even though Steve had used the plural of kid every time he talked about them).

Before they all head out, Steve asks to talk to Eddie.

"Hey, I just- if the kids get into other after school activities, would you be okay with moving the date of the club meeting? My house is available every day, not just school days."

What an odd request. "I guess? Why?"

Steve shrugs (but it's a shrug Eddie has come to know doesn't mean 'I don't know' and means something closer to 'I have a perfectly valid explanation for this but don't know how to put it into words so it's easier to say I don't know') and says, "some school activities can't be rescheduled. It's be kinda shitty to make them miss this by forcing them to chose."

"There's a story there. I want to know it."

Steve looks at him, open in a way that Eddie hasn't experienced. "I want to tell you. But I'm not ready for that. Not yet. Now, go home and do your damn homework. I gotta drop these kids off."

-

December 21st, 1984 - Christmas Break

"I can't believe you did Dustin's hair for their Snowball dance," Eddie says as they watch Jeff, Gareth, Brian, Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin pile into Eddie's van after a rare, afternoon meeting of Hellfire. Gareth offered to take everyone home (maybe Eddie had to beg him to do it so he could stay and bother Steve, but that's between him and Gareth).

"He deserves a good older role model. I try to be that person," Steve says, and before Eddie can mock him for being egotistical, he continues, "that's why I wanted them to meet you, I guess, back in November. Dustin deserves a role model who understands the things he likes. Dustin needs you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that, so he just walks to the living room, grabbing the remote and settling in on the couch. Steve joins him shortly, sitting next to him rather than at the other end of the couch.

"You finish your homework?"

"Oh my god, mom," Eddie rolls his whole head dramatically, "no. I'll get it done eventually."

"Eddie," Steve says, sounding serious. Eddie turns to him, and Steve reaches out, grabbing one of Eddies hands, slotting their fingers together and Eddie feels those damn butterflies he's so used to these days. "I want to graduate with you. We can have a joint graduation party here. But that can't happen if you don't do your homework."

Eddie looks at Steve, feeling more seen than he's ever been in his life. His hand clutches back at Steve's. "Yeah. Okay. I'll graduate with you. Class of '85."

"Joint party?"

This is Eddie's chance to ask the question he's been itching to ask. "Your parent's won't mind you sharing with the resident freak?"

"My parents won't be here. They send me a card with a letter to take to their local accountant, who will arrange for a graduation cake to be delivered on a date of my choosing and give me money to host whatever kinda party I want. And what I want, is a joint party."

"You sound so sure of that."

"I am," Steve says, looking away to stare towards the TV, "I know the exact date they'll be in town between now and April 1986."

The fact Steve says 'date' and not 'dates' is not lost on Eddie. "When's that?"

"May 28th, 1985."

Eddie studies the side of his face, looking for any hint of a joke. "How do you know that?"

"Would you believe me if I said it's because I'm actually twenty-one, and have already lived through these events, and by some miracle was sent back into the body of my 17-year-old self to try and stop something terrible from happening?"

Eddie hits him with a throw pillow. He'll get the truth out of him one day.

-

May 3rd, 1985

Eddie graduates with Steve. It was fucking hell making it happen, but Steve recruited Nancy Wheeler to help tutor them both. (Eddie thought he'd be jealous, but Steve really isn't into Nancy anymore. They'd chat, he'd ask about Jonathan even, but most importantly, he'd always sat closer to Eddie than Nancy).

All of Hellfire is invited to their graduation party, his Uncle Wayne, too, along with the entire Byer's family, Chief Hopper and his daughter, Max Mayfield, and Robin Buckley. Most of these people aren't a surprise to Eddie by the time the party comes around but meeting them and learning that Steve considers this odd group of people his family was a surreal thing when it was happening.

(The real surprise person is Robin Buckley, who Steve had tried to befriend briefly during January but quickly backed out of doing that when he saw how weirded out it made Buckley. Buckley does not show to their joint graduation party but everyone else does.)

Steve and his uncle get along well and it makes some deep part of Eddie warm and fuzzy. Wayne was initially distrustful of Steve (rightfully so, given Eddie's history with jocks, and that he might have complained, loudly and often, about Steve to his uncle before. Hard to backtrack that.)

But Steve had shown up one day, asking to speak to Wayne instead of Eddie. Wayne had said yes, and then they both climbed into Wayne's pickup and went God knows where because Wayne and Eddie both know if they'd stayed on the property, Eddie would have done his best to eavesdrop.

Upon return, Steve had given Wayne a hug, hopped in his own car, and left.

Neither will tell him what they talked about, the jerks.

But all that to say, they're here, the sliding-glass door that leads to Steve's backyard wide open as people freely move from the inside to the outside and back. His friends, Steve's friends, their friends mingling easily. Hopper and Wayne chat, Jonathan and Gareth are hucking kids into the pool (at their request), Nancy is talking with Jeff and Brian, and Steve is standing at Eddie's side, holding a plate and eating cake (chocolate with raspberry filling, Eddie's favorite).

Steve spends a lot his time at Eddie's side.

Eddie expected Steve to be tired of him by now. To give up. But he hasn't. Every now and then, he still asks if he can kiss Eddie. And Eddie keeps saying no. Always an excuse, always a reason. It's been fucking with Eddie's head because he doesn't understand how Steve can be so willing, and wanting, to kiss another guy. Especially since the guy he wants to his is Eddie Munson!

Steve doesn't always ask when they're alone. He's asked when other people at this party are around, but always too quiet to be heard, like he's protecting Eddie's secret but doesn't care if people know his own. A little part of Eddie was mad at him about it; Steve's never been beaten up for being queer which probably makes it easier to be open about it.

In fact, Steve had asked him just this morning as they put their graduation gowns on over their regular clothes in the school parking lot.

"Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"No. Why are you so eager to get beat up?"

"I'm not scared of these people, Eds," Steve says with that damn shrug.

"You should be! This town'll try and kill you for being a fag," Eddie spits out, memories of Hagan, Jackson, Hargrove, the man from The Hideout, all come back to him.

"I've seen Hell, and I'm not afraid of a single person in this town," Steve says, voice cold and Eddie used to doubt that, but they've been friends for months now and Eddie's seen the nail bat he keeps in the trunk of his car, and been there when Steve's woken up screaming. Steve doesn't talk about it and Eddie hasn't pushed but this is- hearing this is the most direct Steve's ever been about it. Whatever the fuck it was.

"Tell me about it," Eddie finds himself say. "You've seen Hell?"

This brings Steve back to himself it seems, because he looks shocked by Eddie's words even though Steve said them first. "Not today. Today, we graduate!"

So, they've graduated, they've partied, and now, Eddie has questions.

"Hey, Steve, follow me," Eddie says and heads back into the house. He doesn't look back, doesn't need to to know Steve is following. He goes up the stairs and into Steve's room, waiting for Steve to enter before closing the door behind him.

"Want to get me alone, Munson?" Steve asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I want to know about Hell."

Steve drops onto the edge of his bed like a stone. He can see the war going on in Steve's head. He can wait this out. He leans back against the door, a confirmation for Steve that he's not going to give up on this easy.

"Eds, you didn't believe me before. I don't- I don't want to lose you if you don't believe me again."

Again? Eddie would have remembered if Steve had told him anything about Hell. "Trust me, then. Trust that I'm not going to leave just because I don't believe what you say."

"Okay," Steve says. "You asked, back in December, how I knew when I'd be seeing my parents again. Remember?"

Eddie thinks before wrinkling his nose and saying, "Yeah. Time travel."

"Yeah. Like Back to the Future but- shit. That's not out yet. But yeah, time travel. Sorta? I don't know. Maybe I didn't travel through time and instead just had a vision of the future. Or a prophetic dream. Or whatever."

Eddie is less leaning against the door, and more using it for support now. "The fuck, Harrington? You weren't joking about that? You really believe that?"

"Yeah. And I got a majority of the people in my backyard to believe me, so I'm hoping I can convince you, too. And if-if I lose you. If you think I'm crazy, or a liar, or whatever, it's better that I lose you this way than-" Steve cuts himself off, a choked sob following those words. Never, not once, has Eddie seen Steve cry, but he's seeing it now. Crying, over the mere thought of losing Eddie. Because Eddie isn't gone, he's here in this room with Steve, and still Steve cries.

"Hey, hey, shh," Eddie shoves off the door to drop to his knees before him, hands going up to cup his face. "I'm here. You're not losing me because I'm here."

Steve nods, cheeks rubbing against Eddie's palms before Steve's hands come up to grip loosely at Eddie's wrists, Steve leaning in to rest his forehead against Eddie's. He takes a shaky breath in before he speaks. "I've already changed the future. In that other timeline, the bad one, you didn't graduate this year. You don't meet Dustin or Mike or Lucas until next year. I'm so fucking jealous of you because I think Dustin like you better than me because you understand the things he likes and I don't. You never got to meet Will, the Byers' had already moved to California by the time the kids are Freshman."

Eddie stays quiet, waits, closes his own eyes to just hear Steve.

"There's another world, Dustin says it's another dimension. I don't know enough about how it all works but we call it the Upside Down. There are monster there, the Demogorgon and Demodogs, and later, Demobats and Vecna."

"Vecna and Demogorgon at from Dungeons and Dragons."

"I know. These things had no name until we had to fight them. The kids named the Demogorgon. You and Dustin name Vecna. Now shush."

Eddie nods against Steve's forehead and listens to the impossible. Will being stuck in the Upside Down, a girl with superpowers, how Steve got involved, that Steve returned to a body that had fought the Demogorgon but the Demodogs hadn't happened yet. That he and Nancy break up because Steve knows both their hearts belong to others (Eddie's insides twist because he's sure that Steve is hinting that his heart belongs to Eddie but that's for later in the story).

Steve talks about going to Carol Perkins' party because he'd heard Eddie was going to be there. He doesn't know how the events go before this timeline because Steve hadn't gone to that party last timeline. He'd been with Nancy still, then.

He talks about how Hopper was the first person he told about the timeline change, because if anyone could prove he was telling the truth, it was El. Hopper hadn't believed him but it had built enough of a trust that Hopper was willing to let them go at the party.

He talks about the events that led to the concussion he'd got, that sparked their friendship fully. How he'd gotten it protecting those kids from Billy Hargrove. Burning down a pumpkin patch.

"You said you were twenty-one," Eddie says, when Steve stops talking. "That would make the year 1986? '87?. What happens next?"

Steve shakes his head. "I can't- there are things I can't say. Can't talk about yet because if I change the timeline too much, Vecna could win. And I can't-he cannot-I-"

"Shh, shhh," Eddie soothes, "no, you don't have to tell me. Thank you, for sharing this with me. I do... I have a question."

"Mmm?"

"How do I play into this. Why did you decide to be my friend now?"

"To change the future. In March of '86, you get- the Upside Down shit effects your life, too. We trauma bond and- I realized that I wish I had known you better. Sooner. We had one week together and honestly, I spent most of it pining after my ex. It took a while, but I realized I will always love Nance, but I wasn't in love with her. But that realization came after it was too late for us-" Steve cuts off, sobbing.

Eddie doesn't know what happened. Isn't sure he wants to. That's a timeline that's already lost forever. For it to come true, it requires him to be in high school and he's not. "Hey, it's okay. We're okay. We're going to stay okay."

They stay there, close, until Steve is calm again and ready to rejoin the party.

"Hey. Any chance I can see El move something with her mind?"

"Yeah. Gonna have to wait until your side of the family leaves, though. It's still fragile, who knows and who doesn't."

His side of the family. Like- Eddie cannot think on that too long or he's going to combust. "Can't wait to see."

Eddie does get to see. Steve pulls El aside as the party winds down and whispers in her ear. A little while later, while Eddie is the only one outside for his smoke break, his cigarette gets pulled from his mouth and flung into the pool. He jumps, because Jesus Christ, but a quick look towards the house shows him Steve, arms crossed and smiling, with El, arm extended towards Eddie still.

He can't find himself to be mad about the cigarette when El smiles at him.

-

Steve is already cooking breakfast when Eddie emerges from the guest room the morning after graduation. He'd been invited to share Steve's bed (just to sleep, Steve had sworn) but Eddie had to decline because he wasn't sure he could trust himself.

"Morning," Eddie says, draping himself boldly against Steve's back to look over his shoulder as he fries up hashbrowns. Steve doesn't even hesitate to lean back against Eddie.

"Morning."

"Put that down and turn around for a moment," Eddie steps back and Steve obeys, setting the wooden spoon he'd been pushing hashbrowns around with down, turning to lean himself against the counter rather than stay in front of the stove.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to report that I am suffering no hang over effects. You?"

"None," Steve says, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Good, good. Didn't fall out of bed and concuss myself either. Same for you I assume?"

"Same."

Eddie thinks Steve is starting to understand, if the little surprised face he does is anything to go by. "And I can't help but notice the daylight out that window. You see the daylight?"

Steve gives him a lopsided grin. "I do see it. Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

They meet in the middle. For a kiss that's been a long time coming, it's so gentle. Steve cups his face like he's made of glass and Eddie should be annoyed by that but he's not. It just makes him feel safe.

Feel loved.

They break for air but don't go far from each other.

"I don't know what the future holds, unlike you," Eddie says, because he's a cheeky boy, "but I do know that no matter what it brings I'm here. You can't get rid of me now."

Steve looks conflicted, "not even if I asked you to go? For your safety? Even if it's to save you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Babe, you've already saved me. You've already changed the course of my life." He clocks the way Steve's eyes darken when he calls him babe. "I'm gonna make sure I've changed yours for the better, too."

Steve hauls him back in by his shoulders. They kiss and kiss and kiss until the smell of burning hashbrowns ruins the mood.

Eddie doesn't know what horrors await (no one but Steve does) but they'll face those together.

[freakingxloser]

Mickey Altieri - nsfw alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mickey will definitely help you to get clean and cuddle with you afterwards. Will talk about it for sure, ask you if you are okay and if you enjoyed it as well. But that’s gonna happen only if you guys are actually dating and he cares about you. If you are a random one night stand just for his pleasure, he would just get dressed and leave, not giving a damn about how you feel. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself is definitely gonna be his arms. He is aware of his strength (we all saw how he yeeted the girl out of the balcony lmao). Knows how to use it while killing and in his love life as well, holding you in place, or grabbing you by your hips and pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around your body…All about them. 

When it comes to you, I can definitely see that Mickey is a fan of thighs. Loves to see them jiggle, while your whole legs are shaking after a rough session of yours. Mickey loves to play with them, grab on them…or having his head buried in-between them…

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Mickey loves to cum inside you, doesn’t matter if it’s your mouth or your pussy…but actually prefers more to cum in your mouth. It’s the best way to avoid any kind of pregnancy scares plus he absolutely loves when you swallow his load, praises you for it afterwords. He enjoys the view of having his cum spilled all over your tongue. He 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mickey is extremely jealous and possessive. He hates when other guys even look at you. Doesn’t hesitate to even kill them if they dare to talk to you or even worse…touch you. That drives him absolutely crazy, so he just kills them. Then he may or may not use the same knife during your knife play sessions. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I mean…Mickey is on college. I don’t think he has a lots of experience, but definitely slept with some girls before…so I would just day that he definitely knows what he’s doing. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy for sure. Mickey loves to pound you from behind, the sound when his hips hit your ass, loves to slap your ass or grabbing you by your hair while he mercilessly thrusts into you. Or even surprise you with fingering your ass while already destroying your pussy…you’ll never know. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He definitely doesn’t crack jokes, but will definitely mock you if you cannot even form a proper words during your session. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Mickey definitely keeps himself trimmed down there. But not shaved completely. If you make him do it, be prepared for lots of bitching about it being itchy and uncomfortable. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Don’t expect any rose petals or candles, that’s not his thing. Mickey will shower you praises, having a slow sensual missionary with you, having an eye contact with you or his lips never leaving yours, but not any stereotypical romantic shit. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t jack off when he has you. Why would he? He simply grabs you and fucks you whenever he wants to. Even when he needs you immediately. He will drag you into an empty classroom and bend you over the desk if he really needs it. No needs to masturbate if it’s that easy, right? 

K = Kinks

My man is definitely into blood and knife play. None can tell me otherwise. Consensual non consent is on his mind really often as well. Would absolutely love to just sneak into your room and take you there without saying a word. Mickey is also for sure into somnophilia, it only makes sense imo. And I think Mickey is really into menophilia, he likes period sex and it absolutely drives him crazy, when he can go down on you during your period. Even when you protest, the little sparkle in his eyes when he suggests so makes you allow it to him. He goes really wild down there, licking all of the blood, sucking on your clit, fingering you…licking his fingers clean afterwards, yep…that definitely sounds like Mickey. 

L =  Location (favorite places to do the do)

He definitely prefers your or his bedroom, doesn’t like public places with a risk of getting caught. Mickey doesn’t want anyone to see your beautiful body, that’s why. When he really needs to fuck you during classes, he makes sure all the door are secured and none can actually get in. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Basically anything you wear, that at least a little reveals your thighs turns him on. Or when you walk around your room just in your shirt and underwear when he visits you…yep honey, you won’t get him off of you for hours. Also when he sees that you are needy, he is immediately ready to take you…of course you won’t avoid any teasing, of course he would mock you, tease your clit for ages, not allowing you to cum at first, but no worries, he would make you cum several times after he is done with teasing and mocking. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Mickey is okay with blood, cum or saliva. But other body fluids? Hell no. That’s a big no for him. 

O =  Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) 

He enjoys both, giving and receiving. Of course he enjoys having you on your knees, seeing you playing with his tip in your mouth and sucking on him…and once he has enough of you just playing around forcing his cock deeper in your mouth and making you gag on it, making your eyes all teary is something he could do 24/7. But going down on you, sucking on your clit, licking you, making you cum numerous times just with his mouth is something that brings him pleasure as well. (Especially during your period, but loves to do it even when you’re not.) 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As we read many times above, Mickey loves it rough and merciless. But our man gets that it’s not just about the speed, but also about the force. He can also have a slow, sensual session with you, but that doesn’t happen often, it’s really rare. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Mickey likes to take his time with you, but if you both are under a time pressure, he is up to it. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If he has some interesting fantasy, he will for sure include it in your sex life, at least for once. When it comes to taking risk then no, he definitely doesn’t want you to get caught, he doesn’t want anyone else to see your beautiful body. And when it comes to pregnancy risks, also no. He makes sure that you are on the pill or has a plan b ready for you…but spilling his cum all over your tongue is just as satisfying, so he tends to do that more to avoid the risk. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Mickey is a college dude, of course he can fuck like a rabbit. All the time and each round gets longer and longer. He can fuck you for hours, until you feel tired and cannot take it anymore. But he would definitely continue after you falling asleep (with your consent, if he loves/likes you…if you are just a random girl, well…he won’t bother with consent).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I cannot see Mickey using a big variety of them, but ropes, handcuffs or anal toys that he would use on you? Hell yeah. But from what he could deduce from the movie…I can positively say that his fav “toy“ is a knife…

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, Mickey would tease the shit out of you…especially if you were teasing him whole day at school. He won’t stop until you beg him to finally do something. But this motherfucker loves to hear you beg, so…it’s gonna take you a lot of begging until he actually gives you what you want. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Mickey is not really loud, just when he gets closer and closer to his orgasm. Of course there is a lot of heavy breathing going on, but more he focuses on those lovely noises you make. Mickey absolutely loves to hear you moan or whimper, or hearing your little sobs while you are overstimulated and cannot take it anymore…oh he would die for those. 

W =  Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Mickey wants to know everyone that you are his. He is for sure obsessed with you. So because of that, he leaves marks on you. Sometimes its just random bites or hickeys on you neck, other days it’s bruises…or his name craved into your skin. Loves to just carve his name into your thighs or ass and lick your bloody wounds clean, since his obsession with blood is slightly getting out of hand too. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I think Mickey is slightly above average, definitely thicker… definitely pleasurable. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mickey has a HIGH sex drive, okay? Probably not higher than desire to go on a killing spree, but still…Mickey would fuck whole day every day if he could. Sometimes during weekends he just refuses to let you leave the bed. When you get up after one round of lazy morning sex, thinking that you’re gonna have as shower and then do something productive, but Mickey is already behind you, making sure you have the right company in the shower, playing with your pussy, gently rubbing your clit, before pushing you against the shower wall and pounding into you again…I do not need to tell you what happens after shower, right?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As I said before…If he cares about you, he will make sure that you’re okay, cuddle with you, talk to you and then fall asleep. But If he doesn’t, he just passes out or leaves you immediately. 

[androdragynous]

tell me something about your art. fucking love the recent sharp angles.

thank you for giving me an excuse to ramble I love you. kiss

this is going to be a long post but I think it's important so I'm leaving it as a normal post and not a read more

I wrote more words and changed my mind because I got distracted a bunch of times by talking to myself. Enjoy

my own works in general have always been like. The Way By Which I Interact With The World which I think is a pretty common artist experience. my fan art tended to focus on my own characters in those settings rather than on the existing characters because of that, to my younger self's chagrin at times (the desire to Appeal To Fandom was much stronger in my younger years, which I think is also pretty typical). so there was always that lens of, like, these characters aren't me, but they could have been, in some way, or at least when viewed at certain angles. first guy is dealing with the same shit, second guy is doing some gender stuff baby me won't unpack for another five years, you get the idea.

and then the whole disability thing ramped up a few notches and everything went to shit, which is to say, for a really long time there I couldn't so much as look at art without pain, let alone long enough to create it. I did not have the tools to accomodate that disability or the finances to get them, and so for a really long time I was basically cut off from... what honestly felt like my ability to connect with people.

this sucked very badly in many ways. it's still not back to where it was before things got worse, but I'm happy with where it's been recently. I don't know how much of that is connected to getting a blood transfusion and the affiliated correction to my quantity of blood. I don't know how much of it is just pure desperation to reconnect with a world that I feel estranged from. We will come back to this point because I have a different tangent first:

I really don't like vent art. I don't like making it, I don't like posting it, and I don't like seeing it. I understand why people make it - I understand why I do - but there's a very harsh rawness to it that feels inappropriate as a viewer. It's voyeuristic; it's a look into something incredibly deeply personal hurt and an equally deep and genuine desire to have that hurt seen, validified, comforted.

I do not think vent art is bad to create or share, to be clear. The fact it makes me uncomfortable does not illegitimize it. Could honestly strengthen its reason for existing, to be quite honest.

The line blurs with disability, though, and this is where we come back to the original tangent, because to talk about disability that cannot be cured will innately be seen as venting. It's basically inevitable, in my experience. You're supposed to want to get better. You're supposed to hate existing like this. So if you mention it, to people who haven't either been in the same boat or who haven't taken the time to work through their own baggage about it, it's innately a vent. It's innately a hurt that you're burdening them with, a hurt that you want recognized and helped. My family members have been particularly bad about this viewpoint, but so have friends and medical professionals. So have strangers. I find it akin to arguments against gay public displays of affection; two men holding hands is sexual, using a mobility aid is pitiable. You get me? There's that innate sense that you, as the person watching a disabled person be disabled, should be feeling something about it, and if it's not inspiration porn, obviously you're meant to be sad. If it wasn't clear, this is the description of a train of thought that I believe is entirely incorrect.

Anyways. So disability art ends up grouped as vent art if you talk about it sucking at all, even if the suck is about the barriers presented by society and not the disability itself. I can, of course, only speak for my own experience, which is what this post is about, so my situation is very much barriers-focused.

People really, really aren't good at dealing with the discomfort part, what I detailed as the emotions I feel around vent art. People don't know what to do when you don't want help, or their help doesn't help (for whatever reason), or basically in any situation where you can't actually fix things, which is a lot of Being Disabled. It's hard to sit with that discomfort, especially when it's about a person's vulnerability. People want to help others, generally, in my experience, and it's difficult to not be able to when it's someone you care about.

Which all ties back into the voyeurism; to be visibly disabled is to be a spectacle. This has also been pretty inevitable, in my experience. Being in a wheelchair draws attention. Using a cane draws attention. Wearing an eye patch draws attention. So on and so forth. Sometimes this is great - people will offer their chairs to me sometimes if I'm using my cane, for example, which I appreciate - and sometimes it is less great.

This ties in, for me, with the part people REALLY don't like talking about, which is sex and sexuality. How do you date when you can't go out to many places? How do you get to know someone when you live with others and can't invite them over? How do you look sexy when you feel and kind of look like a corpse? These are all questions I'd love to know the answers to, because I'm shit out of luck on figuring it out so far, and that's not even touching on the actual sex, because I don't want to get this post filtered if I can help it. There's a balance, right, of being visible on purpose by flirting, dressing up, going out, making an impact, that is both directly overlapping with and directly opposed to the inevitable visibility of visible disability. They juxtapose magnificently, in a kind of sun and moon during an eclipse sort of way, you get me? You have to lean into it. You have to make yourself comfortable in that visibility because it's inevitable, and you are going to inevitably be viewed as a spectacle because you've leaned into it, and you're never going to be viewed as sexual because nobody will ever distinguish that there are two kinds of visibility being done, here.

And THAT I think is where my art is at right now, trying to convey that overlap. I do not think I have been subtle about it - it's loud colors, sharp lines, layers of vandalism over the original draft, a kind of intentional obscuration that implies many others were drawn to leave their mark there. You know? But because of What It Is, I do think it causes discomfort in the overlap. It's supposed to. It's inevitable that it would. I think being disabled is overtly sexual in the way being gay is overtly sexual in the way being trans is overtly sexual, in that none of them are but none of them aren't, either, in the right contexts or the wrong ones. People are going to see you exist and come to their own conclusions about how wrong you must feel in existing, and they will be made uncomfortable by that perception, and they will want to fix you. You have to accept that or you have to be uncomfortable right back. There's not really a third option that keeps you alive. This is all connected to the art, because the art is also inherently sexual, for approximately the same reasons.

So the tldr is "op is it weird if I think this is hot" is both the intended response and yes, it is weird, and you have to sit with the fact that both of those are true and you have to be normal about it for the rest of your life forever, and also you should take that knowledge and get weirder about it. It's a complex system. I also may have described none of it. Good luck.

[apostate00]

What's your opinion on Tankie? I think he's kinda funny and cute

Ohoho THIS is gonna be a long one, strap in!

Well, my opinion on Commie is mostly negative. I HATE this guy, but it's like a passionate hate, the kind that if he were gone, things would feel empty, because he's my favorite guy to despise.

I tend to make him worse in my HCs than he is in the show, even though he's already not great either. I think part of my dislike for him also stems from them fact that he's held up in the fandom as a good guy, when he really isn't, seeing how he's blatantly disrespectful to trans/non-binary people, and would discriminate against minorities if they didn't do as he said.

Nevermind the fact that he's a tyrant and denies the holodomor, which he caused, and also brushed off Nazi's holocaust denial. Also he runs gulags, which are basically just concentration camps & slave labor, but people seem to be mysteriously brushing over that if it's commies who do it. It's a joke then.

People have told me before that the reason they like him is because he's just desperate for a family and community, but personally, that makes me like him less.

How people can ship Leftist Unity is beyond me, when Commie repeatedly disrespects Ancom and later Ansyn. He doesn't give a shit about trans people, misgendering them simply because he can. Also, we all know damn well Commie will kill Ancom the second he doesn't need quem anymore.

I think some of it also stems from me being agender myself. I generally really hate how Ancom/Ansyn's queerness was handled in the show since no one respects quis pronouns ever, and it's more played as a joke than anything.

Fuck even the fandom doesn't respect quis pronouns at times.

People prolly think that it's not that big a deal, but for me who is incredibly protective of the self and their individual identity, disrespecting someone else's to integrate them into your homogeneous view of things is so repulsive and disgusting; it's not nessecarily the act of misgendering, even though that is bad too, but the complete disregard for individuality and identity.

I read Commie as abusive, but I've gathered that some people in the fandom really don't like that lol, I got to add onto my tally of "people online told me to kms" over it. But yes, generally I picture Commie as someone who actively infantilise Ancom and makes quem adopt this uwu uwu personality we see so often, to take away quis teeth, make them submissive, follow him around and make quem less likely to stand up for quemself against him.

There's more of course but, my personal headcanons are besides the point.

I do also use this guy to project my own personal experiences and trauma onto sooo, he has become kind of an amalgamation and caricature of my abusers.

I don't know, basically everything about Commie is so repulsive to me. I can basically only tolerate him with Nazi because they're both tyrannical scum and deserve each other.

I'm pretty big on freedom & individualism so that probably also doesn't help his case in my brain 😭

People can like Commie ofc, you can love and adore characters that are pieces of shit; I'd know so since Ancap is my second favorite character only surpassed by Ancom, but you know, I know what it's like to love a character who is fucking awful.

I guess I just wish people would acknowledge Commie's shitty behaviour more often instead of treating him like this big friendly harmless guy.

But yeah, people can do whatever they want of course, that's just my thoughts about it! :3

[honey-flustered]

I Loved You First

(1 of 2)

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, some Steve Harrington x Reader

Friends to Lovers trope (Fluff/Angst)

Summary: With your occult club’s big road trip coming up before graduation and prom, Eddie plans to confess his love for you. Only he’ll have to deal with competing for your attention from Steve and other human-shaped obstacles. (8.5k+ words)

Warnings: jealous!eddie, lovesick!eddie, hinted yandere!eddie, hurt and angst, insecurities, soft fluff, pining, idiots in love, boys fighting over reader, ugly duckling/swan reader backstory, mostly from eddie’s perspective, reader nicknamed “baby” or “babe”, one use of (y/n), eventual smut

Dear, stupid fucking heart

Why’d you have to go and make me fall for my best friend?

……

Oh, if only you’d look at him more…then you’d see the way he looks at you. You’d see the yearning in those big brown eyes that borders sorrow at the belief you’d never feel the same.

Yes, he’s willing to endure this pain of unrequited love for the rest of life as long as he tells you how he feels. But the issue of the matter is would he be able to handle everything else? Like the pain of seeing you in the arms of someone else. Or even worse, possibly ruining his friendship with you forever.

So he pitifully pines for you in silence, planning night after night how he’d approach his confession to you. And maybe it’s childish that he’ll remember to mention that he loved you first. But he did love you first. Before any of them. Before you blossomed into the raving beauty you are today.

Eddie saw you when you felt invisible. On days you hated the way you looked, he loved you the most. And whenever you’d let yourself be geeky and unabashed, he’d fall for you all over again.

He. Loved. You. First. Before them all.

They wouldn’t understand your humor, the things you find interesting, the weird hypothetical conversations. They wouldn’t understand you. The real you. But he understands.

So why? Why won’t you look at him?!

Wait, you were looking at him! Did you just say something? Shit! Eddie had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t registered a peep of what you said.

“Huh?” Eddie says.

“Welcome back to Earth. Did you have a nice journey in space?”

“Hardy har har.” He says sarcastically.

“You can’t blame me for teasing,” You giggle. “You’ve been out of it lately. Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine just thinking about this trip.”

He tries to walk ahead of you to keep you from seeing the blush on his face but you quickly take his hand and lead him back to you.

You place your hands on his shoulders, commanding him to look you in your eyes. “Firstly, I wanted to say thank you for going on this trip with me as my plus one. I know how you feel about the gemini twins considering they were big bullies in middle school. But they aren’t …entirely awful anymore. If that sounds remotely convincing.”

“It does not.”

“On to my next point, I guess. Maybe you’re out of it because you know who the twins will be bringing as their plus one. I know that you still have feelings for Chrissy and it’s okay that you do. Strong feelings take time to go away. This could either be an experience of closure or something that may very well bloom.”

He wraps a hand over yours. “I can assure you. I’m so over her. All I care for now is for this to be the best trip ever for the two of us. Especially for you. You’re the trip’s planner and I know how much this means to you for everything to go accordingly.”

“With you as my good luck charm, this should be running smoothly,” You grin, picking up a book of spells from the shelf. “I forgot to thank you for giving me a ride to this occult shop. So, thank you. You’re the fucking best.”

“It’s nothing. You can ask me any time.”

“No but, seriously, you’re the best. I know I’ve been a little annoying asking you to give me a ride all over the place like a goddamn chauffeur since my car fucked up,” You lower the book from your view. “How’s my car doing by the way? Ever figured out the issue?”

“Nope,” Eddie lies. “Still looking for any sign of damage. But don’t worry. You can never annoy me. Except for whenever you sing Cyndi Lauper at the top of your lungs. Then, it’s like ‘Jesus H. Christ, woman, are you trying to kill me?’.”

Another lie. He actually loves it when you do that.

You gawk at him in feigned offense, shoving him playfully. “A girl just wants to have fun, Edward. I should be allowed time after time.”

He snorts. “Referencing her song titles casually in conversation? That’s a new one.”

“Clever, ain’t it?” You wink. “So, what do you think of this spell book? Is it good enough for ‘show and tell’ night?”

“Unless we read anything in there that’ll come true, I doubt anyone would be impressed.”

“Oh, so you don’t think the tickle spell works?” You say, blinking innocently.

“The tickle spell?” Your pure features morph into a sinister smile and Eddie knew he’d walked right into that one. He raises a hand to halt you. “Do not even think about it. I bite.”

“I’ll take the risk.” Your fingers dance around his sides and he begins to giggle like a schoolgirl while cursing you like a sailor.

“S-stop t-that.” He strains between laughter.

“Alright,” You sigh, easing off of him. “Sorry, Eds. I saw an opportunity and had to seize it. You always did say you’re convinced I was a dad in another life.”

“That was mean. You know, I’m very sensitive to that,” He says while still laughing. “What was that for?”

“Because I like your smile and you’re not doing enough of that today.”

Eddie smiles wider, knowing he probably looks goofy but he’s on a high from your words. He leans back against the shelf, tilting his head to one side. “You notice my smile patterns?”

“Of course, I notice. I’m a funny person if you’re not laughing then that hurts my ego.” You quip.

“We don’t want you hurting that now, do we? It’s not like it’s the size of Texas or something.”

“You’re one to talk. You know the saying ‘big ego, little ears’.” You tug on his ears.

“My ears are far from small, sweetheart. Among other things.” He clicks his tongue.

You tug his ears with more force. “There’s that ego showing.”

He brings his hands up to yours, pulling gently. “I showed you mine. Show me yours.”

It felt as if the shelves were closing in around him but in a good way. Like the atmosphere was coming together just so it could push the two of you together. For a second, it looks like you’re looking at him the way he’s always wanted you to. But before he could lean any closer, an unexpected presence interrupts the momentum of his bravado.

“What are you guys doing?” Steve asks with a chuckle.

You look over at him, beaming. “Comparing our egos.”

Peeling off your best friend, you walk over to Steve and the two of you share a quick embrace. Eddie sighs his frustration quietly, pulling himself up from the shelf to greet his close friend.

“Harrington,” Eddie greets as the two clap each other up. “What are you doing here? Didn’t think this type of shit was your scene?”

“Baby invited me.” Steve says, pointing your way.

“Yeah, sorry, Eds. I forgot to mention that Steve’s tagging along with us on the trip,” You explain. “He’s been trying to find something for show and tell, too. So, I invited him to the search with us. Now that Steve’s going on the trip, the twins and Chrissy being there doesn’t seen so bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, trying to disguise the disappointment in his tone. “I’m stoked but…confused. How are you able to go? Robin’s taking Vickie as her plus one.”

“I’m Dustin’s plus one,” Steve replies. “Apparently, his mother trusts me to supervise him on this trip.”

Eddie had forgotten that Dustin joined the occult club in addition to the hellfire club. Dustin had done so after one summer of reading strictly horror comics in which his fascination for lovecraftian creatures and cryptids grew.

“Aww, babysitter Stevie’s back.” You poke fun.

He glares at you, arms crossed. “I thought we retired that title.”

“I thought so, too. Yet here we are,” You fired back. “So what exactly are you looking to impress us with?”

Steve thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure. In fact, I shouldn’t be telling you guys what I’ll be bringing in if I’m going to win.”

“Try all you might, dear, but you’ll never beat me.” You challenge.

“What about you, Eddie? I’m guessing you think you’ll be winning this, too.”

“I’m not doing it, actually. I figured I’d let Baby have her shine in this.”

What seem like an innocent noble act to him was taken as an offensive blow to you.

You quirk up an eyebrow. “It almost sounds like you’re saying that if you were to join show and tell, you’d beat me hands down?”

Steve grimaces. “It does sound a lot like that, buddy.”

“I’m being a gentleman.” Eddie defends.

“Spare me,” You scoff. “I don’t want your pity. I want you to put your money where your mouth is. I’ll see to it that you bring your show and tell item. That way we’ll really see who comes out on top. For now, we’ll split up and we’ll leave our choices as a surprise.”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve says. “You two know much I love a little friendly competition.”

“I’m going to another section of this store. Try not to follow me.” You say in an alluring tone before strutting.

The boys wait until you’re a good enough distance before they began their sparring of words. Unbeknownst to you, some weeks ago, the boys caught on to each other’s feelings for you. Although they’ve mentioned to keep things cordial, as the two viewed one another as brothers, it proves to be quite difficult when they’re always trying to one up each other.

“So…Steve,” Eddie says with a tight smile. “You’re attending the trip. I thought you were passed high school things now that you’re a big college boy and all.”

“I decided I need to be there for my good friend, Dustin.” Steve says, matching Eddie’s polite tone.

“He’s my friend, too, ya know.”

“He was mine first.”

Eddie points at him, narrowing his eyes and smiling.“Got me there, bud. But ya know,” He begins, pacing slowly. “Baby was my friend first. Just to clear that up.”

“What’s your point?”

“Just sayin’,” Eddie shrugs, guiltlessly. “I mean, don’t be surprised during the trip if you don’t have her attention.”

Steve smirks. “Is it that I won’t have her attention or that I won’t take her attention…from you? Because the latter implies that no matter how hard I try, it wouldn’t be enough to take her away from you. But here’s the thing, Munson, I really don’t have to try. I won’t need to have her attention when she’ll already be looking at me.”

“I don’t know, man. Do you really think so? Because if she really were actually paying any attention to you, she’d see how extra swishy your hairs looking today. Looks like that Farrah Fawcett hairspray is really working miracles. You’d think she’d at least compliment the hair.”

“Oh, she’ll notice,” Steve winks. “Give it time.”

The boys exchange heated looks not registering your presence as you peeked your head in the corridor. “Did you guys find what you’re looking for?”

Steve runs his hands through his hair and sighs, “Not quite.”

“Yeah, me neither. Going to keep hunting,” You nearly continue on your way but end up doing a double take instead. “Stevie, you’re putting the ‘hair’ in ‘Harrington’ today! It just looks so glorious. Like Disney prince.”

“You flatter me.” Steve says, smugly.

When you leave, he sends Eddie a ‘told ya so’ look and Eddie fumes to himself. What’s wrong with his hair? Sure, you’ve complimented his hair every now and then but you’ve never compared it to a Disney prince’s hair. That’s a pretty top-tier compliment!

You win this round, Harrington.

——————

After purchasing your findings from the occult shop, you go over to Eddie’s place to help him pack. He’s usually last minute with these things but it never bothers you especially when you get to see his wardrobe. Sometimes, he’d even model them for you.

“Oh, please! Model this hat for me.” You plead, hands clasped.

“You setting me up, woman.” He says, spotting your polaroid camera that you did a poor job of hiding behind you.

“Come on, for me,” You pout, giving your best puppy dog eye. “I won’t take your picture.”

“Fine. But only one outfit. Just let me go into the closet and change really quick.” He grumbles.

After a few moments, he returns out of the closet wearing a Roger Rabbit costume from that one Halloween two years ago when the two of you went as Roger and Jessica Rabbit. You erupt into giggles, holding your stomach as you fell back against the mattress.

“Why?”

“Because I knew it’d make you laugh,” He says, walking over to you. You wait until his face comes in view before you take your camera and snap a picture and he looks at you with a look of stunned betrayal. “You said no pictures.”

“I can’t help it,” You say through your fit of laughter. “Why do you still have that costume?”

He tries to grab the camera from your hands but you move away, going further up the bed. He crawls after you and pulls your legs, dragging you beneath him to get the camera. He loses track of what he was aiming for, looking at you giggling below him. His lower body pressed up against yours.

Your laughter dies on your lips as you stare up at him with doe eyes. He’s breathing hard but not from the rigorous struggle to capture you.

You face heats up and Eddie’s confused as to why you seem so flustered. That is until he shifts his weight above you and feels the heavy and very hard uninvited entity between his legs, poking at your exposed belly.

His cow eyes widen, lips parted as his cheeks paint pink. “Erm—I—It’s not what it—“

You snap another photo of his reaction. “Gotcha.”

He peels off your body, sitting up in a daze while trying to adjust the cartoonish red shorts. You sit up as well, examining the photos with a fond smile. He snaps out of it, glancing over your shoulder to see the results.

“They’re perfect.” You sigh.

“I look like a tweaker.”

“But you’re my little tweaker,” You pinch his cheek. “Besides, this is for my personal collection. Something to cheer me up before I leave for university.”

Oh, right. He’d forgotten about that. Or better yet, he’s been trying to forget. He just couldn’t imagine going over to your place and not seeing you there. If he were smarter, he’d be going with you but he knew he couldn’t get accepted with his grades. He’d only barely made it as a graduate, thanks to the assistance of his friends who never gave up on him.

But of course you were leaving for university. Eddie was the one who encouraged it. Even when you told him that you’d attend community college just to be with him. What kind of friend would he be if he didn’t let you strive for the stars? You wouldn’t have let him settle if Eddie got the deal of a lifetime regarding his music.

So, as the saying goes… if you love someone, let them go.

“I’m really going to miss you.” Eddie says, quietly.

You laugh humorlessly. “Probably not too much since Jeff and Gareth will be staying in town. Then there’s also Steve.”

“They’re all great but…they’re not you,” Eddie admits. “Wanna know why I kept this stupid costume? It’s because it was one of the best Halloween’s for me. We stayed up all night in my trailer getting high, listening to Weird Al, talking about stupid shit that didn’t even matter. I loved that night. And I love…I love…”

He had no issue before telling you that he loved you. But that was when his love for you was a lot more tame in meaning. Now that his love for you burns with the intensity of a thousand suns, he chokes up in fear.

“…I love being around you. You’re my best friend.” He finishes, avoiding your gaze so you couldn’t see him being angry with himself.

He feels the slightest touch on his hand, your fingers curling around it. He swivels his head in your direction, seeing a sincere and loving smile on your face.

“Is it safe to admit that I still have my costume because it was one of the best nights of my life, too?”

He breaks a smile and you do the same, holding each other’s hand in comfortable silence.

——————

5am sky paints like a canvas of dark to milky blues and a tinge of orange in the mix as the sun rose up. Everyone was set to meet on the campus of school around this time.

In one car, there was Steve, Dustin, Robin, and Vickie. In the other were you and Eddie. Both cars pulling up in the lot simultaneously.

You exit the vehicles heading over to greet the girls and Dustin, going on excitedly about what was up on the itinerary for the 2 days. Eddie momentarily greets the group before turning his attention to Steve for yet another showdown.

“Harrington.” Eddie mutters in disdain, arms crossed.

“Munson.” Steve replies in an equally hostile tone.

“Henderson,” Dustin says, cutting in with a finger raised. “What’s with all the testosterone circling between you two? Somebody lost a video game rematch again?”

“Don’t mind us, Henderson,” Steve says, eyes still staring intensely at his rival friend. “Eddie and I are just having a little discussion.”

“You’ve only said one word to each other. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve assumed you guys are fighting over Baby,” Dustin says, laughing hysterically until he darts his eyes nervously between the boys. “P-please don’t tell me that I’m right.”

You enter the conversation, the girls following after. “Hey guys, what’s with the long faces? Was there a video game rematch that I missed?” You ask, concerned.

“Oh, no. We’re just playing around like we always do. Right, buddy?” Eddie says while ruffling Steve’s hair out of place causing Steve to stare daggers at him.

He plays it off with a laugh, fixing his hair again.“Yeah, just boys being men.”

“Oookay,” You say, puzzled. “Well, it looks like everybody else is running a little lat—oh no, I stand corrected. A few more cars are coming in.”

Eddie recognizes that red Camaro anywhere. But it couldn’t be. What would he be doing on a trip like this? But then he remembered: the douchebag had a little sister. Max.

“Billy fucking Hargrove.” Eddie and Steve say at once then exchange looks with one another.

“The hell’s he doing here?” Steve asks.

“You know this genius,” Robin says. “Max is a part of this club and she really wanted to go on this trip but couldn’t go without trusted supervision so…”

“He’s her plus one.” Eddie finishes with a groan.

Here’s your history with Billy Hargrove. He’s your neighbor. A couple years before you became the ‘beauty bombshell’ you are today, you had a crush him. Eddie knew of this which embarrassed you a bit because Billy wasn’t very nice to you or Eddie back in high school. He was always ignoring you and when he did know of your existence he’d tease you for being so flustered around him. That was until one summer starting your Junior year—him, his senior year—when you came back a whole new person.

Billy loves a challenge and you were definitely going to be one. Not only did you loathe him because you realized how shallow of a male he was but it made it much easier for you to despise him knowing his feud with Steve.

But Eddie knew Billy would stop at nothing to impress you despite him having plenty of options to choose from on this trip.

Max is clearly not in the best mood with her step brother being there. But she cheers up a little when she meets up with the gang.

Billy follows shortly behind with an awkward silence from the gang. Of course, his sights were on you but for now he decides to focus on the man he’d least expected to there.

“Is that King Steve?” Billy says

“Yeah, yeah, It’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Steve mutters.

“I think you and I are going to get along on this trip. I’m feeling it,” He smirks then turns his attention to you and Eddie. “Well, don’t you both just look so precious. Have you guys finally tied the knot yet?”

Eddie scrunches up his nose in anger ready to fire so harsh words but you were quick with an answer. “Careful. All that hot air you’re filled with will make you fly away some day. Try talking less, maybe.”

“I’m just teasing, Babe. I know Munson could never talk you out of your pants. Hell, he couldn’t even talk you out of a car if it were burning.”

“Why don’t you fuck off, Hargrove? Or do you need somebody’s mom to help do that for you?” Eddie says, referencing Billy’s run-ins of sleeping with married women.

Billy sneers. “I needed a smoke anyway.”

The moment he leaves you drop the mean mug on your face, smiling brightly as you raise a hand for a high five. “We are a snarky pair. Nice touch on the ‘mother fucker’ joke.”

Eddie laughs, high-fiving you. “Mother…fucker? That’s genius, Baby. I don’t know how you come up with these things.”

A few more cars begin to pull in and you recognize them to be Jonathan and Argyle, The Twins and Chrissy, and the remaining of the club which one of member in particular happened to be your ex-boyfriend, Avery Spinelli.

“You didn’t tell me he’d be on the trip,” Eddie whispers. “Will you be okay spending the two days with him?”

“Oh, yeah,” You wave off. “Avery and I are still good friends. We simply just didn’t work out. If I can be in an hour and 30 minute meeting with this guy. 2 days will be nothing.”

You wait until everyone meets in the middle to begin your roll call. Once you were sure everyone was present you began to go over the trip details and itinerary.

“Good morning, everyone! I love seeing those smiling faces,” You pause for a moment, glancing at the group who all looked equally exhausted and annoyed. You swallowed hard, shifting awkwardly. “Ok, I can see that we’re not all fully awake yet. That’s fine because you will be once we get to Point Pleasant, West Virginia. Of course, that’ll be in about 9 hours, but at least this’ll allow us the chance to get to know one another more intimately.”

“That’s cool and all, dudette, but I’ve got a girlfriend that’ll kill me if I do anything like that.” Argyle says.

“Intimate as in personal, Aggy,” You explain. “Nothing sexual in nature. There are children present.”

“Mother says I’m a little man.” Dustin pouts.

“You’re not helping your case.” Max says, patting his shoulder.

“Onto the main focus of this trip,” You continue. “There’s a reason why I chose Point Pleasant. Specifically, because of Mothman sightings. We’re going to share a cabin in the woods where we’ll get to see whether or not it exists. On Day 2, we’ll be going to the cornfield to spot mysterious alien crop circles. It’s going to be a blast! Ava and Ida, would you girls like to add anything?”

“Yes,” Ava steps to the front. “This will also be a very healing experience. We’re going to really tap into the spiritual side of ourselves because in order to connect with the world of occultism, we must look within ourselves first.”

“Oh, brother.” Eddie mutters to himself, possibly too loud.

“I’m sorry, Munson. Did you like to add anything?” Ava says, bringing all eyes on him.

Eddie clears his throat awkwardly, steps up from the circle. “I just wanted to bring up an interesting fact about the cabin. Someone was murdered in one of the rooms there. Good luck finding which one.”

He steps back into place and the group is silent for a moment. You break the silence. “T-thank you for that heads up, Eddie. Well, we should be hitting the road now. There’s 15 of us. I’m thinking we carpool so there are less cars. Eddie and Argyle suggested that they’ll be taking their vans. Billy’s taking his own car as well. Which leaves the RV. A big thank you to Avery for bringing his dad’s RV. It’s perfect for carrying at least the majority of us.”

“Anything for you, Babygirl.” Avery winks.

Eddie seethes. The nerve of him to address you so casually. As if he still had you. By the look on your face, Eddie understood that you were just as confused at the sudden nickname. Usually, people just called you ‘Baby’ simply because of how kind you were but Avery thought he was just sooo clever calling you ‘Babygirl’ like it was any deviation from the original nickname.

“Dustin and I will be riding with you guys,” Steve says to you, watching Eddie’s reaction from the corner of his eye. “Robin and Vickie are going with Argyle for ‘herbalist enthusiasts’ reasons.”

Eddie almost forgot about obstacle #1. He was so caught up with the men that could potentially set their sights on you that he ignored the one who’s actively doing so.

“Maybe I should switch cars.” You joke.

“You’d never leave me.” Eddie scoffs.

“True, but that’s only because you’re terrible at reading a map.” You tap his nose before skipping away.

“I can totally read a map!”

“No, you can’t.” Steve and Dustin say simultaneously, jolting Eddie in surprise.

—————

“Bullshit! Bigfoot would annihilate Mothman,” Dustin argues. “Are you serious? Mothman? Because he has wings? Bigfoot would rip those clean off.”

“Mothman can carry Bigfoot in the air, drop him and turn him into a pancake,” You challenge. “Meanwhile all Bigfoot does is hide. Probably because he can’t fight.“

“Bros, help us settle this thing. This girl has no idea what she’s talking about. Eddie, what’s your pick?”

“I’ll have to go with Mothman, too. She’s made some pretty valid points.” Eddie shrugs.

“Thank you, Eds.” You smirk at Dustin. Meanwhile, Eddie sticks his tongue out at Steve through the reflection of his rearview mirror.

“Of course you would.” Dustin glares at Eddie.

“I actually think it would be Bigfoot that wins. He’s hiding because he’s working on some gains, obviously. Dude’s hiding a six-pack under all that fur. Mothman’s got the physique but no strength. Take it from me. I was an athlete so…” Steve finishes.

Dustin raises a chin smugly at you.

“Very valid point, Stevie. I’ll admit defeat,” You say, turning in your seat to bow your hands up and down. “All hail, King Steve and Sir Dustin.”

You sit back in place and Steve repays Eddie’s taunting, raising a middle finger the moment Eddie looks into the mirror.

“So what’s the first thing we’ll be doing today?” Steve asks you.

You read out the schedule in your planner. “We’ll meet up at the cabin, put our things away. And then we’re going to explore the haunted chapel.”

“A haunted chapel? I think I heard another interesting fact about a particular ghost that lives there. People say it’s a type of ghost so powerful when it possesses you, you begin to shake violently.” Eddie says.

Your eyes become the size of saucers. “Oh my god! What kind of ghost is that?”

“The holy ghost.”

Breaking your fearful stare, you laugh hysterically. “That was such a dad joke. I thought those were my thing.”

“I can be funny, too.” He laughs.

After hours upon hours of driving, Eddie could feel himself tiring out from staring at the road too long. You catch on to his sluggish reaction times, his silence noticeably missing from the group’s conversation. Feeling concerned for everyone’s safety, you address the situation.

“You’d like for me to drive?” You offer.

Eddie waves off your concerns. “I’m great. I’ve driven cross country in 2 days to meet with a producer who gave me a handshake along with a signed Metallica CD and sent me on my dirtbag way. This is nothing.”

“But you look so tired.”

“I could drive.” Steve says.

“I’m not letting you near my baby.” Eddie says, defensively. He blinks fast, eyes wide like a deer in headlights at the possibility of being taken out of context. “I meant like not letting you drive my van…who is like a baby…to me.”

Steve mouths a ‘Nice save’ to him.

“Eddie, please,” You pout, shaking him lightly. “You need rest. You wouldn’t want to risk getting anyone like Dustin hurt, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” He sighs, reluctantly parking the car off to the side and the cars following do the same.

“Thank you,” You pat his hand. “You can go ahead and switch seats with Steve.”

“You’ll come to the back with me, right?” Eddie asks with pleading eyes.

“I’ll need help with the map, too. Sorry,” Steve shrugs. “You’ve got Dustin to keep you company, though.”

Eddie turns to look at Dustin who smiles a red smile at the metalhead, teeth and mouth red from the cherry popsicle he’d gotten from a rest stop.

Eddie exhales grumpily. “Alright. But you’re sharing whatever snack you’ve got in that gigantic backpack you’re carrying.”

“Even the strudel?” Dustin whines.

“Is that even a question? Now move over, I’m diving in.” Eddie says, pulling off his seatbelt to crawl over the console into the back.

“At least wait until I’m out of the seat.” Steve grumbles, struggling to exit the van while dodging Eddie’s wild movements. He takes his place in the front seat, locking in his seatbelt to see you watching him in content.

“Hey, cell mate 3027, looking cool.” You smirk.

“Right back at ya, 3026.”

The two of you had a little insider due to your family’s ending up in the same hotel for a holiday vacation. His room was 3027 and yours 3026.

It was your sophomore year and you only knew Steve as kind of a jerk. But by his junior, his attitude improved and on your family’s vacation, when you’d spotted him, he was kind enough to say ‘hi’ despite you being considered a ‘loser’. He’d even give you the cellmate nickname whenever he ran into you and it stuck ever since. When Eddie and Steve became friends a little after Steve graduated, your bond grew from there.

A tap on the window alerts everyone to look in the passenger window.

Billy Hargrove.

You groan your frustration and lower the window.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Yeah,” You say dismissively, your arms crossed. “We just switched drivers because it’s a long drive.”

“You’re thinkin’ smart and safe. I like that,” Billy praises. “That’s why you’re in charge.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes.

“You know, I’m really glad to be here,” He leans in. “I could use the time to really be one with nature and challenge my world view. Max invited me out of obligation and I was pretty bummed at first. Then, I heard you’d be here and I don’t know…somehow it made me feel okay.”

You snort. “Why? I don’t even like you or could even stand to talk to you.”

“Yeah, but I’d like change that. I don’t know what it is about you lately, Sassy… but I can’t get you out of my head. I’m thinking it’s divine intervention that I’m here with you instead of anywhere else. Maybe I can make things right between us.”

Your face heats up at the deep richness of voice. You avoid his gaze, crossing your arms and he smirks as if he’d won a prize. The smooth bastard.

Steve rolls his eyes and says, “You can go now, Hargrove. We’re all good here.”

“Understandable,” He says, tapping the side of the van. “Guess I’ll be seeing you again at the cabin.”

You remain silent, glaring at him.

He chuckles, nodding. “I’ll get you to warm up to me eventually.”

He walks off and you let out a breath you weren’t sure you held. He just made you so tense sometimes that you couldn’t help but to go stiff. You had to admit though…he has a way with words, knowing just what to say to make you feel little flutters in your tummy.

But if you could see what went on in Eddie’s mind you’d see how much more intense and visceral his reaction to Billy is compared to yours. He wanted to go after the bastard. He taps HIS van?! Then proceeds to flirt with the love of his life right in front of him?!

The disrespect Eddie experienced today was enough to become murderous. Steve’s expression held up no better. He was furious, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he continues on to the road.

But then you reach a hand up, rubbing his arm to comfort him. “Hey, that must’ve been so tough for you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay now. You know about how he kicked my ass because he was so obsessed about being better than me and taking my title as ‘King of Hawkins High’ whatever the hell that means?”

“Yeah, I heard about it. I was out sick that day. You know how they always say you miss out on all the drama when your absent,” You giggle. “I’m sure you held your own that day. Your pretty face is still intact.”

“You think my face is pretty?” Steve laughs.

“Yeah,” You nod. “I’d be blind if I didn’t.”

“What about me?” Eddie says, scooting up so that you can see him at your side. “I ain’t much to look at but—“

“Not much to look at? Dude…I’m always staring at you. All the time,” You admit. “You’ve got the prettiest eyes. I always tell you how jealous I am of them. You’re all so pretty. Especially the cutie in the back named Dustin.”

Dustin twiddles with his fingers bashfully. “My Suzie says I’m a 10.”

“That girl’s got taste.” You praise.

Eddie couldn’t care at all that you called Steve a pretty face. Not when you’ve just admitted that you look at him, too. Maybe not exactly how he hoped but it’s close enough.

“Sucks that Max couldn’t join us. Imagine having to spend 9 hours with Billy. Woof!” You cringe. “To think I had a crush on that guy.”

“I tried talking some sense into you.” Eddie says.

“Well, if ever you find me hanging around him—please, oh, please—take me away.”

“Gladly!” The three boys say in unison, confusion settling around.

————

After sometime, Dustin and you had fallen asleep during the car ride, leaving the men to become more acquainted with one another.

“Why are you suddenly into her? You never gave her a second glance?” Eddie inquires.

“Of course I didn’t. I hardly seen her at all. Our paths just never aligned to be around each other as much we do now. I’ve gotten to know her and now I like her.”

“What about Nancy? Thought you were trying to win her back?”

“Nancy and I have been over for so long. What about you? Don’t you have a thing for cheerleaders or something?”

“Chrissy was just a little crush. We all have ‘em. Doesn’t make us tied at the hip? But I’m wiser. I know what I want. I want Baby. It’s always been her. So, you should just forget about taking her from me? Because she’s already mine.”

“You wish. I’ll stop at nothing to make her mine.”

“Neither will I.”

“May I suggest something?” Dustin says, raising his head.

“Jesus!” Eddie jolts up. “Weren’t you asleep?”

“I usually wake up to the sound of a challenge. And it looks like you two are in need of settling this shit. But your going to compete for her heart, you’ll first have to knock out all the competition.

First contender: The Crush a.k.a. Billy Hargrove, psychotic douchebag turned ‘changed’ man.”

“Former…crush,” Eddie emphasizes. “She hates his guts now so he’s nothing to worry about.”

“Au contraire,” Dustin says. “Hargrove’s a prick but he’s got a way with words that’ll make any girl weak. Baby’s pretty strong but she’s only human. Word on the street is: never let your girl see him doing manual labor less you want to lose her forever.”

“Goddamn.” Eddie says, lost for words.

“Second contender: The Ex a.k.a. Avery Spinelli, astrology buff who has an affinity for women he believes are his soulmates. A girl could never really shake of her ex, now can she? And I hear he’s looking to ask Baby to prom and possibly to be his girlfriend again.”

“Wait, how are you knowing all of this?” Steve questions.

“I’m around a lot of girls in that club, okay?” He mutters, embarrassed. “Avery’s planning getting her to take him back with his show & tell performance. He told her it was a magic hat performance but it’s really just a promposal.”

“I knew I didn’t trust him!” Eddie shouts.

“Shhh,” Steve puts a finger to his lips, glancing for a moment to see you stir a little in your seat. “You’ll wake her. But fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck that guy.” Eddie whisper-yells.

“Focus, amigos,” Dustin sighs. “Lastly, we have—-

“It’s Argyle isn’t it?” Eddie says. “The true himbo.”

“He’s a favorite among the ladies for sure but he’s dating Suzie’s older sister, Eden. And they’re real serious,” Dustin begins. “The Third Contender is actually The Potential a.k.a….Jonathan Byers.”

“Jonathan?!” The two men say in shock.

“Yep. According to Will and Mike, Jonathan and Nancy are on a break.”

“Holy shit.” Steve says.

“But him?” Eddie asks.

“Jonathan and (y/n) both love photography and conspiracies. Sometimes during club meeting, they’d have 1 on 1 deep conversations. Even before Jonathan and Nancy went on their break…I sensed a connection with those two. I doubt Jonathan will make any move on her, though. But from my perspective, it looks like she digs him heavily. El says she heard them talking on the phone one night.”

“Y-yeah, but Baby told me it was only because they had a school project together.” Eddie says.

“Do you know what happens when two hormonal teenagers are in close proximity?” Dustin asks rhetorically. “For all we know, they’re looking at each other in a whole new light.”

“Oh, shiiit.” Eddie groans.

“If you guys wanna get to her, you’ll have to go through them. It’s the only way,” Dustin explains. “Once their out of the way, it’ll be so much easier for her to make her decision. In fact, I’d like to add some stakes.”

“Uh-oh.” Eddie says.

“‘Uh-oh’ is right,” Dustin smiles wickedly. “Instead of confessing your feelings to her, you both should get her to confess to you first. That way for sure you’ll know who she truly has feelings for. She has to say it on her own will so you can’t ask her to say it. No sexual contact of any kind, you heathens. If either of you confess or make sexual contact before she make the move, that’s breaking the rules. And breaking the rules means punishment: a haircut!”

“Whoooa.” Steve disapproves.

“That’s just brutal.” Eddie says.

“What? You guys chicken? If you’re really that good at seducing girls, then there shouldn’t be a problem getting her to say it. Or…you can admit defeat claiming that neither of you have game.”

“Someone’s getting a little big for their britches.” Steve criticizes.

Eddie nods. “It’s his tone, right?”

“You dickheads in or not?” Dustin wages.

“I’m in.” Steve says.

“I’m in, too. This’ll be a piece of cake. Baby’s told me she liked me plenty of times before.” Eddie says, smugly.

“So do sisters to their brothers.” Steve retorts.

“Did you just brother-zoned me on her behalf?”

“It’s clear as day that it’s what she meant by it. You’d have to be brain dead to not know.”

“You’ve got some nerve…”

“Oh, I really do…”

Dustin shakes his head at the obnoxious men, placing his headphones on his head and going back to sleep.

———————

You board off the van and intake the fresh air around you. After 9 hours, you’d made it to the cabin and it was still bright out to do the planned activities of the day.

“Change of plans, everyone,” Co-Club president Ida says, standing in front of the huddled circle. “Scratch the chapel plans. My twin sis, Ava, just got off the phone with the police. Apparently, there’s a whole investigation ongoing regarding a secret fight club being held there. So instead Baby, our trip organizer, what else do you have planned for us? Hopefully, something less ‘mercury in retrograde’ kind of fuck up.”

You clenched teeth in a faux smile. “Thank you, Ida. And, no, this isn’t a fuck up yet,” You take the front. “Today, we should just relax. It’s our first day here in Point Pleasant so let’s make the most of it and enjoy the environment. I was reading the map and it looks like we’re nearby the cornfield so if we’re feeling up to it tonight, we can simply walk there. Maybe see some alien activity.”

“Hexcellent idea, Babes. I knew I was right to put you in charge,” Ava says, patting your back. “Maybe try a crystal healing bath to connect you with your guiding spirit, though. We don’t want any more bumps in the road for this trip, now do we?”

“Okay.” You try to swallow then nasty words you had to say to her.

“I’m lovin this so far,” Argyle says. “Little chillaxing here and there. Then at night, we get to hang with the aliens. I’m thinking they’ll be really vibey because they’re not held down by societal constructs like we are.”

“That’s so genius, man. How do you think of this shit?” Jonathan laughs.

“It just comes to me, bro.” Argyle says.

You take the joint from behind Argyle’s ear. “How high are you?”

“No, no. It’s ‘Hi, how are you?’, dude,” Argyle says, petting your head. “It’s okay. That one’s always a big tongue twister for me, too.”

You shake your head in bewilderment. “Let’s put our bags away so we can have some fun. I’m thinking we do show & tell in a couple hours.”

“Last one there gets the haunted bedroom.” Robin says, rushing past with her bags and Vickie follows after giggling hysterically.

The group races into the log home, claiming their bedrooms. While Eddie busies himself with unloading his duffel bag, he hears a light tap and turns to see you leaning on one side of the frame.

“Hi.” You say.

“Hey.” He says with a circling wave.

“Looks like you’ve found your room.”

“Yes, I did. But is it what I wanted? Well, that’s debatable,” He sighs. “I’m paired with your ex-boyfriend. Yeah, he’s a real hoot. He told me he knows when and how I’ll die based off of my birth chart so that’s fun.”

“Least you didn’t date him. Used to tell me he knew when I’d lose my virginity to him and somehow that line worked on me,” You laugh. “On the bright side, you don’t have a roommate like mine. Moon claims she’s a witch who died in the Salem trials and has been reborn. Which isn’t too bad until you realize that sometimes she likes the room’s temperature to be near burning hot. She says it reminds her to avenge her fallen sisters.”

“And yet I’m considered a freak?” He huffs, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Strange that the popular kids are looking to infiltrate our spaces, though? Billy…the twins running an occult club…what is happening?”

“Yeah, I know. But I guess popularity thing isn’t everything,” You sit beside him throwing your legs over his lap. “I think they’re finally starting to understand that freaks like us do whatever we like and have all the fun doing it, too.”

“What about that Steve Harrington, huh? I would have never expect him to come here. Hell, I’ve been trying to get him to go to just one hellfire campaign for literally a year now.” He laughs through his restrained anger.

“Yeah, it is a little strange,” You say in a suspicious tone. “But I’m glad he’s here. I’d like for all my friends to be here. Especially since it might be my last trip with you guys in a while.”

Every time he’s reminded of you leaving, he becomes physically ill. He pushes the inevitable away. Just a little more time.

You sit beside him, taking his hand in yours. “I know you only came because you knew it’d make me happy so again…thank you for being here.”

There’s his heart going crazy again. His palms are for sure sweaty but you don’t pull away.

“I’d do anything for you.” He says.

“Me too,” You rub a hand on his thigh. “You’re a true friend.”

His heart shatters. True Friend? No! He doesn’t want to be seen as your friend. He wants you! Why can’t you see that?!

He swallows the hard lump in his throat and whispers, “Yeah, friend.”

Your phone dings for a text message notification. Peering at the message, a cheshire grin spreads across your face.

“Oh my god! Look at this cute ass picture!” You show Eddie. It was an image of Robin, Vickie, Dustin and Max relaxing in the lake on the cutesy floaties that Vickie had brought with her for the trip. “I have to claim my floatie now.”

You stand on your feet, pulling off your tank top and Eddie’s forced out of his funk to gaze upon your beauty. You then remove your jeans, revealing your full white bikini. He shuts his parted mouth to keep from drooling and uses the little strength he has left to keep himself nailed to the bed and not pounce at you.

You were glowing. Eddie’s seen you in a bikini before but through the eyes of love had a whole new meaning. He found himself wanting to count every freckle on your body and kiss every part you felt was imperfect. If only you’d give him the chance to kiss the soft, supple skin of your thighs.

He hadn’t noticed that he’d been fiddling with the chain around his wrist, his hands mindlessly doing so to cope and hold himself down. He accidentally pulls it up and off causing it to scatter across the room.

“Oh shit. Sorry, I’ll get that.”

“No, don’t worry,” You push down on his shoulders. “I’ll get it.”

You were trying to kill him. That was it. Because you had no business, bending over in front of him the way you did to collect the wristband. Yet, here you were with your vivaciousness and plump ass that he could very well bury himself deep into and do unspeakable things to your body.

He couldn’t take it. He needed to have you. Without thinking, Eddie shoots up from the bed, striding over to you like a hungry lion on the verge of capturing his prey. But then he came along.

You straighten up, smiling at the intruder. “You’re in your trunks. Loving the chest hair. I bet the girls were all over you.”

Steve cheeks raises a shade pinker. As if the sight of you in a bikini wasn’t already overwhelming, you go and compliment him once again. “T-thanks.”

He stalks closer and instinctively you walk backwards to give him his space but he resumes forward.

“I was just telling Eddie about the float-oop!” You walk back into Eddie’s chest, laughing nervously. “When’d you get behind me?”

“Yeah, Eds. When? You weren’t thinking of doing something naughty, were you?” Steve questions, catching on to Eddie’s aroused state.

You tilt your head up and back to look at your best friend. “You were trying to come up behind me and scare me, huh?”

“Ya got me.” Eddie laughs nervously then clears his throat.

“You’re a naughty boy, indeed, Munson.” You say, poking his tummy.

Eddie’s already agitated that Steve decided to barge in but now your ex decides to enter the room as well.

“Hey, Babygirl, I was looking all over for you,” Avery says, while taking in the sight of you sandwiched between Eddie and Steve. His eyes dart between the three of you suspiciously. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Not at all,” You reply. “Was there a specific reason for why you were looking for me?”

“Yes, actually,” Avery goes to reach for something out of frame near the doorway. He pulls out a giant floatie in the style of a sunflower, putting it down in front of him. “I made sure to claim one for you because I know how much you like them. It’s even shaped like your favorite flower.”

“You remembered?” You say in surprise.

“I remember everything about you. So…you wanna go out to the lake together and try it out.”

“Oh, I was actually going to wait until Eddie’s gotten dressed first before—“

“He’ll be fine. Come on. You don’t want to miss out on the fun. Robin and Vickie’s been asking for you.” Avery eggs on.

You look over to Eddie. “You wouldn’t mind if I went down now, would you?”

“Of course not,” Eddie lies. “Go on. I’ll meet you in no time.”

You smile. “Great! See you there! Steve, ya comin’?”

“I’ll be right there. You go on for now.”

You nod then excitedly smile at Avery and he does the most fury-inducing thing in Eddie and Steve’s presence. He takes your hand. The other carries your floatie as the two of you exit the room.

“That fucker,” Steve hisses. “We have to get rid of that guy.”

“Get rid or get rid?” Eddie says emphasizing the difference in contexts. “Because at this point I’m down for whatever option.”

Steve looks at him with concern. “No more mafia movies for you.”

Dustin enters. “What are you fools doing up here? Baby’s down at the lake.”

“We’re trying to come up with a plan to get Spinelli out of the picture.” Eddie explains.

“Yeah, I seen them holding hands down there,” Dustin says while shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s looking rough for you guys.”

“You know the guy, Dustin. How do we stop him?” Steve says.

“All I know is that this dude’s very superstitious. He believes in omens and fortunes and all that make believe shit. How do we scare a guy that’s only afraid of things that don’t exist?”

A slow wicked smile dawns upon Eddie’s face. “I think my Show N’ Tell performance is going to be even more interesting than I anticipated.”

“What’s your plan?” Steve asks.

Eddie smirks, eyes playfully dark. “Don’t you worry. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”

[thedroloisms]

just an essay bc it's been on my mind but the way that victimhood becomes a weapon on social media is so fucking stupid and counterintuitive to actual advocacy. people wielding "im a victim" as a defense not only in situations actually involving their specific case but also in basically every damn situation in the world is so ???? even in cases involving dream, for example, i will see people using his history as a means of defending him (it's really fucked up that you would accuse a victim of ___, he's an abuse victim i'm sure he won't defend ___ and that he'll ___) and while i understand where that sentiment comes from, the base assumption it's making is...nakedly untrue. and assuming its truthfulness can hurt victims moreso than it helps them.

being a victim isn't moralizing. being a victim doesn't make you a good person. suffering isn't absolution, and going through fucked up shit doesn't make someone "good." people equate abuser = bad person and victim = good person, and then assume that victims are incapable of abusive behavior or "problematic" internalized ideas. an abuser can't be neurodivergent, or mentally ill, or part of a marginalized group, and most importantly an abuser can't be a victim. the boxes of victim and abuser are strictly defined with no overlap. once you've been through something truly, verifiably, Fucked Up (tm), congrats! you get a certificate of eternal victimhood that prevents you from ever being a Real Bad Person ever for the rest of your life.

only that's not how real life works! it's just not! generational trauma leads to cycles of abuse that perpetuate themselves over whole generations of people! the kids that think that it's perfectly fine and a-okay for a parent to physically punish their children don't tend to be the ones with parents that don't lay a finger on them! and you know, it sucks. it sucks that you get nothing out of being hurt, that there's no fucking prize, that there are no suffering vouchers for you to cash in because of the abuse you suffered that can give you good-person-points. it sucks to endure all that shit for nothing. but the opposite idea of suffering making you a good person is the exact reason why some people preach about the miles they walked to school in the driving rain to excuse taking out their shitty temper on their small children.

being abused generally doesn't make one "better." if anything, trauma tends to fuck you up in ways that hurt you...and others. going through shit tends to make people worse. working to get better is something that requires actual conscious effort, not something that you are given as a side effect of going through hell. over and over again, traumatized individuals who are made to feel powerless and given little freedom and ability to change their circumstances, when in a situation where they are given power to some degree over some person, may choose to abuse that power while they're in their own abusive situation or after. part of being a victim of abuse often means having a distorted view of the abuse you've been through! it can mean normalizing fucked up behavior! looking at shit and treating it lightly because you've been taught that it's "not that bad," if you've been taught that it's bad at all! victims aren't granted perfect ideologies from god because they walked through flames--cult survivors usually have to unlearn all sorts of messed up beliefs that were drilled into them--beliefs that many people on twitter would then damn them for, because obviously if you've thought something like that in the past then you're a bigoted hateful individual.

i can only speak from my own experience, but i can't fucking count the number of people i've heard of or met or known personally who have been through some kind of trauma in the past, who are undoubtably victims of abuse, who then go on to act in toxic, manipulative, and abusive ways to others. oftentimes, these people are aware of the fact that they were in abusive situations in the past and make quite a big deal about the fact that they care about victims, as a victim, and want to advocate for them. they're the same people who react extremely negatively to anyone alluding to the idea that they could be abusive--they're not like that, they've been abused, how could anyone accuse them of abusing another person, don't they know how much that hurts with their history. and so on and so forth.

and...i have a lot of sympathy for these individuals, generally speaking. because as mentioned above, being abused in the past doesn't necessarily make it harder for you to be a perpetrator in the future. sometimes--oftentimes, even--it's the opposite. and i feel for them, because going through trauma and being hurt makes you scramble for ways to not be hurt again, and oftentimes the easiest answer for that (and the ways of solving problems as modeled to them in the past!) is control, and controlling another party can very easily slip into manipulative, abusive behavior. especially if you still have internalized ideas mixed in with the fear that surviving abuse entails, internalized ideas that are often left unexamined by people who believe that their victimhood absolves them from any further responsibility. i feel for people who are deathly afraid of ever being seen as terrible people, oftentimes because of the shit that they went through, who seek explanations for their abusers' behavior that make it so much easier to simplify the matter into "they're something separate from me, something that i can never become." i sympathize with the anger and fear and frustration and grief that might never had had a healthy outlet while in a past situation that ends up poured out into places where it shouldn't be in the present, i sympathize with the desire to find reason in being hurt where it doesn't exist, to want there to be something to make the whole damn thing worth it instead of having nothing to take with you but your pain.

but at the end of the day, that's not how life works. that's not how abuse works. yeah, there are abusers who are cruel for cruelty's sake, who are aware of the harm they do and desire to cause more--and there are just as many who genuinely believe that they're doing the right thing, that they're doing good, that they care for the one that they're hurting unselfishly and wholeheartedly. there are many, many people who hurt others because they have been hurt before, and this isn't an excuse--of course not--but refusing to acknowledge the ways that pain can perpetuate itself and blinding oneself to the possibility of their own actions ever being abusive can literally be how this pain continues. it's good to be self aware, it's good to want to do the right thing, but assuming that victims are good people because of the suffering they went through not only means that so-called "bad victims" (or anyone that's not yet Acceptably untangled the thought patterns and actions that have been normalized to them, or anyone who lashes out in quote-unquote appropriate ways as judged by whatever social media council is handing out social justice tickets for the week) get overlooked and ignored, but abusive patterns of behavior are allowed to continue to exist, just in a repackaged form with different language. it's not fair to victims to nail them to this standard of so-called righteousness that is also inextricably connected to their experiences, allowed to be revoked if they're too "abuser" to be "victim" anymore, or to overlook the victims of their behavior because their inherent suffering-borne righteousness keeps them from crossing the line into bad behavior.

at the end of the day, no one deserves abuse, victims deserve to be advocated for, and people who have been through horrific shit didn't deserve to go through horrific shit. but you don't get handed get-out-of-jail-free cards for being treated badly, you know?