#last two are from flight of icarus

[alwaysthesitter]

Just finished reading both Rebel Robin and Flight of Icarus on this trip. I have thoughts, but more than anything I have new Steve head canons. Ignore that these might be messy because I am typing them from a tablet.

Steve also plays football, who would've thunk. I knew he was a jock but, damn boy. This isn't even just a hc since he literally plays football inn the book, but hey I'd love to explore more of this.

Steve and Nancy won Prom King and Queen Junior year of High School. he accepts the title and puts on a good face, but Nancy is not there to accept hers and they don't have a royalty dance. It's clear they were either arguing or something at prom, and my guess is nancy is upset that they're attending something like that while barb is dead, and probably ran off.

More of a Robin hc, but she still absolutely has the Polaroid photo she first took of her and Steve in their Scoops uniform. Probably hanging in her room. Steve tries to take it down every time he is there because he hates that there is photographic evidence of him in that stupid outfit. Ten bucks saysshe uses it for blackmail, or shows it to Steve's new partners.

Though Steve obviously had a falling out with tommy and Carol, it's clear he is still respected as a popular guy, mor ethan likely until Billy comes to town. It's also clear that he does indeed play with Jason on the team, and it snds like since turning his new leaf in school he tries to stop the bullying.Jason says a line about how Harrington would find out that him and Tommy were bullying a kid (I think it's Gareth?) and not be happy with it, so. This to me shows that Jason still respects Steve, and also that Steve would step in and stop the bullying. Also still shows that he is still higher up in the rankings of Hawkins foo chain.

Eddie breaks in using a Fmily Video card. that to me means that Eddie probably goes there to rent videos quite a lot. Meaning Steve has definitely been admiring how pretty he is from afar for a long time, and just never really wanted to say anything (because he probably also believed the rums that Eddie shot a cop and was a felon, let's be real).

[somethingvicked]

Don't want to miss a thing

An Eddie Munson one-shot.

Inspired by an anon ask for daddy Eddie!

warnings: female reader, baby teething, fluff, references to Flight of Icarus (Eddie's mother's name)

You were awakened to a shrill cry from the other room and sighed tiredly.

You loved being a mom and loved your daughter more than anything but waking up every other hour in the middle of the night wasn’t at the top of the list of the things you loved about it.

Your daughter, Lizzie, was teething and only fell asleep out of pure exhaustion and as soon as she had slept enough to be able to feel the irritation in her gums again she woke up and screamed.

You carefully untangled yourself from Eddie, whom was sleeping soundly on the other side of you, a protective arm over your waist, his nose all but buried in your hair.

Silently you walked into your daughter’s room, seeing her little face screwed up in frustration, as she chewed on her lip to get rid of the itching ache in her mouth.

”Come on, I know what’s better,” you said as you lifted her into your arms.

She looks so much like Eddie, flew through your mind, for probably the thousandth time, as you kissed Lizzie’s forehead. She was the spitting image of him – Robin had even commented, ”were you even present at conception, Y/N?” when the whole gang came and visited you at the hospital after you had given birth.

Her eyes may have been blue when she was born, as most newborns, but they gradually darkened to Eddie’s chocolate shade after just a couple of months. Her hair was dark, the same color as Eddie’s, and already curly, and she had his smile, the shape of his eyebrows.

She had your nose, though, and you supposed you should be grateful for that, to at least have her resemble you in some degree. You and Eddie had decided to name her Elizabeth, after Eddie’s mother. Elizabeth Arwen – the last one from Eddie’s favorite book series, Lord of the Rings. He had been ready to beg to get you to agree but in your opinion it was a pretty and unique name, so you happily went along with it.

You carried Lizzie with you to the kitchen and took out a pacifier from the freezer, warming it up by putting it into your own mouth at first, so it wouldn’t be completely frozen through, and then offered it to your daughter. She willingly opened her mouth and sighed in contentment when the chill eased the ache in her gums.

”There, that’s better, hmm?” you cooed and swayed with her, even though you couldn’t suppress a big yawn.

”I can take her if you want to sleep,” you heard a voice say behind you and almost jumped from the fright.

”Jesus, Eddie,” you said, voice full of laughter. ”Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Eddie snorted. He was dressed in his worn plaid pajama pants, bare chested, hair all tousled from sleep. Even though you were drained to the bone, you still felt your heart flutter at the sight of him.

”Come on, baby,” Eddie said again, ”you deserve some sleep, you’ve had to do most of the lifting all this time.”

That was true. Since you were on maternity leave and Eddie worked shifts at the car shop you had resigned yourself to take most of the burden when Lizzie woke at night.

”But what about work?” you wondered, bouncing your daughter on your hip.

”I’ve got some vacation days saved up. They’ll just be happy if I don’t use them all during the summer, when everyone else does. I could use a day to just be with my two favorite girls. ”

You nodded, warmth welling up inside you from his statement, and finally passed Lizzie over to him. She smiled at the sight of her dad, hands immediately going to his long hair, wanting to play with it.  You smiled too, seeing your beloved daughter with the love of your life.

”I’ll take her to her room, see if I can make her fall back asleep,” Eddie told you, stroking Lizzie’s back, as you turned around to go to your own bedroom.

You crawled into bed with a sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep was almost upon you when you heard a low, melodic sound penetrating the mist of slumber.

” I could stay awake just to hear you breathin'

Watch you smile while you are sleepin'

While you're far away and dreaming

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender

I could stay lost in this moment forever

Where every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure.”

Eddie. He was singing to Lizze.

His voice was low, it was obvious he was singing to soothe her into sleep, but it was still clear enough that you could hear him, making out the words. It brought tears to your eyes.

”Don't wanna close my eyes, I don't wanna fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you, babe

And I don't wanna miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you, babe

And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

Lizzie was remarkably quiet – either she had fallen back asleep or she was as transfixed by her daddy’s voice as you were.

Your tiredness  forgotten, you got out of bed and padded down to Lizzie’s room, seeing Eddie sitting in the rocking chair with Lizzie in his arms, looking down into her eyes, eyes that were a complete copy of his.

“Lying close to you, feelin' your heart beating

And I'm wonderin' what you're dreamin'

Wonderin' if it's me you're seein'

Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together

And I just wanna stay with you

In this moment forever

Forever and ever.”

Lizzie was awake, you saw, but she was blinking repeatedly, as if she was fighting sleep, not wanting to miss the soothing sound of her dad singing to her.

Eddie looked up and saw you standing there. ”Honey? I thought you were asleep?”

”I was about to, but then something so beautiful called me over here,” you gently teased him. ”And this sight... it was worth it. I guess I’m like you – I don’t want to miss a thing.”

Eddie smiled, the most beautiful smile in the world, you thought, at least until your daughter had smiled at you for the first time. But then again, her smile was Eddie’s, so go figure.

Eddie continued the song, Lizzie’s eyes finally closing, her intense sucking and chewing on the pacifier slowing down as her breathing evened out.

Eddie whispered-sang as he got up from the rocking chair and carefully placed Lizzie back in her crib.

You wrapped your arms around Eddie’s middle, resting your chin against his arm as you two stood, watching your sleeping daughter.

“He has a point,” Eddie whispered as he pulled you tightly against him.

“Who?”

“Steven Tyler. The sweetest dream can’t possible match up to this.”

You couldn’t help but giggle quietly. Trust Eddie to be able to make a rock reference. But oh, how you loved him for it.

“No, I suppose that’s true. I really don’t want to miss a single thing with her. Or you.

“The feeling is mutual, baby,” Eddie promised you as you two quietly walked out of your daughter’s room and back to your own.

taglist: @h-ness1944 @quinnyficsy @jenniquinn @melodymunson @pandemoniusstuff

please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 4

Oops! I didn't realize this one had so many chapters done. I had been using it as my "I'm stuck on the other two stories so I work on this one to clear my head" story and I currently have five chapters backlogged. So instead of Batshit Soulmates today, you're getting two of this one. One now and one tonight.

In this chapter we have Eddie doing his research and we find out how he recognized Steve. Also Jeff&Eddie besties for life!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last few days in Hawkins went by in a blur. Eddie couldn’t do the research he wanted to, not without alerting everyone else what he was up to, so he focused on buying both their albums and listening to them nonstop.

“This that band you went to go see?” Wayne asked after three days of him having both albums on constant repeat. “The one you were whining about have to go to?”

Eddie sat up from where he laying on the floor with headphones on and took them off, resting them around his neck. He pulled one knee up and draped his arms around it casually.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Dustin has been gloating about it, so I would rather you didn’t add to the pile.”

Wayne crouched down so that they were eye level. “This about that secret you found out?”

Eddie opened his mouth to lie but Wayne just raised an eyebrow and he snapped his mouth shut with a click. He let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s about that.”

Wayne picked up the vinyl sleeve and looked at the cover. He studied the image a moment or two before he said, “You think that someone you know is in the band, don’t you?”

Eddie bit his lower lip and then sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t keep it from Wayne, but he had hoped he would have been back in Cali before he realized it.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” he said tilting his head back, “but yeah. I think I know someone in the band.”

“You jumping to conclusions?” Wayne asked in that gruff but gentle way that was a staple of Eddie’s childhood.

Eddie looked up at Wayne and then shook his head. “I don’t know enough. Not yet.”

Wayne got to his feet with a grunt. “Good. You keep it that way. There’s probably a good reason for all that.” He waved at the vinyl sleeve. “So don’t you go pushing your friend’s buttons until you know that reason.”

Eddie nodded. “I read you loud and clear.”

Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair and walked away, leaving Eddie with plenty of time to think.

****

Dustin was staying in Hawkins for the whole summer, so when Eddie left, he was finally on his own.

Finally able to get out of his head and do some real research. He also knew better than to do anything than listen to his own music mid-flight. Too many wandering eyes.

Any one of his fellow passengers could be some blogger, Youtuber, Tiktoker, influencer or actual fucking press.

Thankfully the flight was most empty and short.

He was met at the airport by his manager Chrissy Cunningham.

She grabbed his bag, leaving Eddie to juggle his guitar better.

“Record management has all four of you in a hotel nearby,” she told him as she stowed the bag in her trunk. “They want you sequestered this time.”

Eddie winced. It wasn’t for any music related reason, though he didn’t doubt the sequestering would help with the process.

Nope.

It was because last time Gareth and Brian went on a three day drinking bender and were too sloshed to function for at least two days after that. Almost a whole week of recording down the drain because half the band went off the rails.

“Roger that!” Eddie said with a jaunty two fingered salute.

“You can have alcohol sent to your room,” she continued as they got into the car. “But Gareth and Brian aren’t allowed. So if you share your stash, that’s on you.”

“You can count on me and Jeff not contribute to the delinquency of our bandmates,” Eddie bit out. “We were just as pissed as the label when we couldn’t get a hold of them for those five days.”

Chrissy nodded. “Fame can really do some fucked up shit to people.”

Eddie hummed his acknowledgment. “Just please tell me I’m not sharing with anyone. You know they all hate sleeping in the same room as me.”

Chrissy snorted. “Only because you stay up all hours of the night perfecting song, while they actually want to, oh I don’t know...sleep?”

Eddie cackled. He was the world’s worst insomniac when they were working on an album. The rest of the time he was a sound sleeper.

“But no,” Chrissy hummed, “you all have your own suites. With Brian and Gareth on opposite sides of the hotel so they don’t fuel each other’s vices.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “That’s great news.”

They went up to Eddie’s suite and he immediately got to unpacking. He couldn’t stand living out of his suitcase and didn’t know how anyone else could.

He ordered a couple of six packs of beer, his favorite vodka, and a couple of whiskys that should last him at least a couple of weeks. He stashed the beer in the suite provided mini-fridge and settled down to watch Youtube on the big screen TV.

He was just devouring everything he could on The Fallen. He started with their music videos. The one for “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls” was especially sweet. He found out that the lead singer was bisexual and that the song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary peeps despite the title.

But the videos weren’t helpful. The band themselves were rarely in them. So Eddie turned to interviews. Impromptu ones on red carpets and podcasts, as well as sit down interviews for talk shows and entertainment press.

Again the lead singer was charismatic and charming. And it was looking more and more like his theory was correct.

Then he came across the interview.

“How does Azrael see out of his mask?” the Vanity Fair interviewer asked.

The drummer pulled out another mask and handed it to Abbadon. It seemed like it was part of the shtick that the drummer never spoke.

Abbadon held up the mask to the light. “You can see that the eyes are a mesh-like material. It works like a one way mirror. You with the strong light, can’t see in, but Azrael with darkness of the mask can see out.”

Eddie hummed his interest. That was a cool trick. It meant that the drummer wouldn’t get hurt while still maintaining that anonymity.

And it appeared that the interview thought the same as they nodded along, impressed.

“What is the reason for the masks?”

Astraeus leaned forward into the mic. “Because when we first got started no one would take us seriously as ourselves?”

Just then the hotel door swung open and Eddie quickly pressed pause. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Jeff.

Jeff stopped in his tracks to stare at the screen. “Oh hey, The Fallen. They’re pretty cool.”

Eddie whipped his head around and glared at him.

“How do you know about them and I didn’t?”

Jeff laughed. “Dude, the radio embargo was you thing, not an everyone thing. They’re really good. I love their new single ‘You’. It’s really sweet.”

Eddie nodded, it was really good. It was one was of his favorites, too.

Jeff got closer to the TV. “Wait. Is this the ‘metal fans would hate us if they saw who we really are’ interview?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Jeff scoffed. “Metal fans are the most welcoming group of fans out there.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and thought about Steve. And how preppy he still dressed even this far outside of high school.

“Not if they were preps,” he said softly.

That brought Jeff up short. “What now?”

“I think Abbadon is Steve.”

Jeff started laughing and laughing like he couldn’t stop. Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled up the picture he had taken of The Fallen’s lead singer. Once Jeff had gotten control of himself, Eddie showed him the picture.

“Okay...” Jeff said. “I’m not sure what this shows other than your obsession with necks.”

“Zoom in.”

Jeff rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Okay, so what am I looking at?”

Eddie licked his lips nervously. “You see those two moles, just under his chin?”

Jeff half shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”

“Steve has moles in the exact same place,” Eddie explained. He took the phone back from Jeff and went through his IG feed. He pulled up a picture of Steve. The angle wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.

He handed it back to Jeff. “Now zoom in on the neck.”

Jeff did as he was told.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie pursed his lips and chewed on the bottom one. He played with his rings and was just fidgeting.

“Dude!” Jeff cried. “We should tell someone!”

Just then Eddie’s fidgeting hit the remote and the video began playing again.

“Is there any chance of a future reveal?” the interviewer asked.

Asmodeus leaned into the mic and said, “Ask us again in ten years when we’re world famous.”

Eddie managed to get a hold of the remote to pause it again and in the resulting silence Jeff and him shared a glance.

“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said. “We can’t say shit, can we?”

Eddie shook his head. “It would be like outing a queer person before they were ready.”

Jeff came around the sofa and flopped down next to him.

“Wow,” he said with more than a little awe. “So Steve Harrington is in a metal band...” He let out a shuddering sigh. “And is good. Not just good, but damn good.”

Eddie nodded. “Is it bad that I kinda feel like I’ve been tricked?”

Jeff let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but if no one knows, that it’s not personal.”

“You mean to tell me that no one knows?” Eddie hissed, getting to feet. “Not Robin, not Dustin? Or any of the kids? Because I call bullshit!”

Jeff looked up at him. “Robin, maybe. Those two are attached at the hip. Hell, Robin could even be their slinky and sexy manager, Celeste. But Dustin, man? I wouldn’t tell that kid shit. Not if I wanted it to still be secret ten minutes later.”

Eddie fought to calm his breathing. Yeah okay. That tracked. Robin with makeup and a black wig would completely disguise her to the point that not even her own mother would recognize her if they passed on the street.

“Dustin wouldn’t–” he began but Jeff cut him off.

“This is the kid that spoiled Will’s surprise party that he was planning,” Jeff said, counting off on his fingers. “The kid that would go searching through his mom’s closets and under her bed looking for birthday and Christmas presents. The same one that announced our second album six hours before it was set to drop. I wouldn’t tell Dustin Henderson the time of day if I didn’t want everyone to know about it.”

Eddie huffed. He wanted to argue that all that was little shit. Not really that important. But then he remembered all the times where Dustin would say something out of context, something that all his friends would jump on him for, only for it to be revealed later that Dustin had spoiled some surprise. It was just that no one had realized it at the time.

This time he let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, sitting back down next to Jeff on the sofa. “And I know that if Steve had come to me and said he wanted to form a metal band, I would have laughed in his face.”

Jeff gave his knee a squeeze. “We all would have. So let’s do what we do best. We change the culture. We make the metal scene open to people of all walks of life, not just the freaks and outcasts. We make it safe for them to come out.”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I could do that. We could do that.”

“Good,” Jeff said, patting Eddie’s knee. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve never liked easy.”

Eddie laughed as Jeff got up. “So what are you doing in my room anyway? Don’t you have your own?”

Jeff opened the mini fridge and took out a can of beer. “I forgot to order beer and I hate it warm, so I thought I’d steal one of yours.”

Eddie threw a throw pillow at him, which Jeff deftly caught and lobbed back at him.

Jeff came over and kissed his cheek. “Get out of your head and do something with all that restless energy you’ve built up with this eating away at you.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”

Just as Jeff reached the door, he called out. “What would you and the boys think about inviting them to open for us on our next tour?”

Jeff grinned. “They would probably kiss you on the mouth.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @papergrenade @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 6

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: What DID he mean by five? The second meeting.

5.1k words

A/N: How are we feeling in a post-"Flight of Icarus" world, y'all? I knew from the beginning that I'd want to add some of the lore in and let me tell you, I LOVE Ronnie Ecker. For those of you who did not read the book, or haven't had a chance to, Ronnie is Eddie's best friend who ended up with a full scholarship to NYU. They're siblings, your honor.

Also if anyone can show me on this map where the plot is going, I'd really appreciate it.

This late at night, the only sounds in the trailer park came from the occasional dog barking and the echoes of Eddie’s tapes blasting as he pulled up to Wayne’s trailer. His uncle was working tonight as usual, which would normally allow Eddie time to hog the tv before passing out for a few precious hours before he had to get up for school. 

Tonight however, his mind was buzzing with what had just happened less than an hour ago. He liked you, he wasn’t sure how much yet but he did. You were sharp and knew your stuff about metal. It helped that you were cute. Really cute. 

He liked seeing you in the passenger seat of his car, matching wits with his friends and ranting about Ozzy. He liked seeing you laughing and the way you watched him play. He really liked the way you had fiddled with the pick he’d thrown at you at the end of the set. 

Eddie had never done that before. He’d wanted to, but never had anyone’s attention like that before- no. That wasn’t true. There had been one other person who’d listened to him play like that, two years ago. 

Was he always gonna fold to the site of a pretty girl actually paying attention to his music? 

“Of course you are.” Ronnie’s voice echoed on the phone. “And I’m gonna laugh every time you do.” 

Eddie groaned, holding the receiver to his ear as his forehead pressed against the front of the fridge. He hadn’t planned on running to her with this, but he was nowhere near able to wind down. He hadn’t even expected Ronnie to pick up the phone this late at night with the time zone difference and the fact that it was a school night. He’d have to push his stash a bit harder to pay Wayne back for the long distance call. 

The past two years had been a slow crawl of building back trust up with Veronica Ecker. The two had gone almost a whole summer without talking before Eddie had basically groveled for forgiveness outside of Granny Ecker’s trailer before Ronnie left for New York. She had forgiven him enough to let him give her a ride to the airport. 

“Last time?” He’d asked. 

“Last time.” She’d repeated. 

“So why didn’t you shack up with her tonight?” Ronnie asked. “You got her into your van, and you dropped her off like a gentleman.” 

“I don’t know, I panicked.” Eddie sighed, bonking his head against the fridge a few times. “She was right there, and she was leaning in and all I saw was Paige leaning in-”

“You know not every girl who shares your taste in music is Paige, right?” Eddie could practically see Ronnie rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. 

“Any girl that shares my taste in music ends up fucking off to the opposite end of the country.” 

This made Ronnie laugh. “You’re an idiot. Paige fucked off back to her job and I fucked off to college.”

“Fucking off is fucking off.”

“Maybe you need to fuck off.”

“I tried, remember?” 

She remembered. Both of them remembered. 

“Look, stop being a dipshit.” Ronnie said after a moment of awkward silence. “You’re graduating this year, right?”

“Uhhh...”

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m working on it. I just need those last stupid two classes and then I’m home free.” Eddie confirmed. 

“You can’t stay in high school forever.” Ronnie said. “And you’re gonna realize that there’s life outside of Hawkins. Have you even talked to Paige since then?”

He hadn’t, and they both knew it. Eddie gave up two months after she’d bailed him out of jail. Two months of dead air silence. He got the hint. 

“No.”

“Then stop worrying about one girl from over two years ago!” Eddie could feel the phantom pain of Ronnie punching him in the arm like she always used to. “Get laid and graduate, Munson. You earned it.”

Eddie snorted, sliding down the fridge to sit on the cool floor. “Is that the only advice you got for me, Ecker?”

“It’s the only advice you need. Did you pass that test last week?” Ronnie asked. 

“By the skin of my teeth.” Eddie sighed, leaning his head back against the fridge. 

“Your new girl graduated, maybe she can help you study.”

“She’s not my girl. She’s a girl that I’ve met a handful of times-”

“That’s turning your brain to mush.” 

“She doesn’t even know who I am, Ronnie.” He fiddled with the chord in his hand, watching the spiral wind and unwind around his fingers. It was already stretched out pretty bad, with a few spirals already tangled beyond repair like his old slinky from when he was a kid. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ronnie asked. “She doesn’t know you, that means she doesn’t feed into the bullshit of the rumor mill.” 

Ronnie had a point and he hated it, but that’s why he called her to begin with. Ronnie was the only person who could cut through his Munson bullshit and give it to him straight. He missed it. As much as he enjoyed the power he had to protect his little lost sheepies, they were all too intimidated to actually stand up to him and call him out the way that Ronnie would.

“Yeah, you’re right. As usual.” Eddie could hear her snort and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “So why the hell are you even awake right now? Up til 2 am on a school night, Ecker?”

“It’s barely past midnight, the time zone isn’t that off. I was studying for a test, but hearing you complain about your love life is a far more productive use of my time.” 

“You’re using me to slack off, aren’t you?” 

“If I have to look at my flashcards one more time tonight my eyes are gonna go square. How’s Granny doing?”

“She’s an empty nester and is determined to turn me into her replacement grandson until you visit again.” Eddie shook his head. “She threatened to give me a haircut the last time she dropped off a plate for Wayne.”

Ronnie had come back to visit a grand total of five times since she’d left, returning for holidays and summers to visit Granny Ecker and by extension Eddie. Each time she’d come back with stories of law school and how different New York is. 

It seemed impossible, everything that Ronnie had told him about going to college and about life outside their small town. She was playing Dungeons and Dragons still, having found a group that would play with her. According to her, being a rules lawyer for the game at a law school hit way different than it had their small Hellfire group in high school. No one even cared that they played outside of a few students who had better things to do than enact violence against a few nerds. 

Then again, in law school everyone was some sort of nerd. Eddie wondered if even a freak would be accepted there. Well, socially at least. He wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d be able to be accepted into law school with his grades. Ronnie had invited him up to visit a few times, but there was never time or money to do it. 

The two continued talking for another hour, catching up until Ronnie was scolding him for staying up so late on a school night. 

“Yeah? And what’s your excuse?” Eddie said. “It’s almost 4:20 am there.” 

“Ha. Ha. Again, ha.” Ronnie said. “Still not how timezones work. And my first class doesn’t start until noon.”

Right. In college you didn’t have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn every day. 

“Night, Ecker.”

“Night, Munson. Graduate and get laid.” 

“Does it matter the order?”

“Good night, Eddie.”

Talking to Ronnie had eased his nerves, but there was still something inside that wouldn’t let him lay down and go to sleep. It was late now, way later than he intended to stay up tonight. The night he played at the Hideout always had him up late, and his teacher already considered him more useless than usual on Wednesdays. It’s not like anyone would care if he slept in class, unless they were in a particularly foul mood. 

He made his way to a stack of books in his room rummaging through a pile or two until he found what he was looking for. Eddie’s copy of Lord of the RIngs was well loved at best, and completely trashed at worst. The cover of the paperback was nearly torn off, taped back together haphazardly over the years. Pages were dogeared, the spine was cracked, notes were scribbled in the margins, and his name was scribbled in messy cursive on the front page declaring that this book belonged to Eddie Munson and that he was in third grade.

Eddie stripped out of most of his clothes, tossing his jewelry on his nightstand, and hopped into bed. He turned on a small lamp and opened the book. He could probably recite the first chapter from memory if he tried, the words on the page a comfortable lullabye for his wound up mind. But tonight he flipped to a page near the end where his bookmark was. The flower made out of blue construction paper wasn’t nearly as old as the book, and only in better shape because it never left the safe pages of Tolkein’s writing. 

His eyes glanced at his arm again, your phone number a temporary tattoo on his skin until it washed off. Shit, it was going to wash off eventually. Eddie grabbed a pen from under his bed and added another scribble to the inside of the book before copying your number carefully onto the paper flower. At least this way he’d always know where it was. 

With that aside, Eddie didn’t make it through three pages of his book before he passed out with the light still on. 

Fall Semester, 1984

The PrinciPAL’s office was just as interesting and inviting as it always was, which is to say not at all. Eddie was slumped back on a chair, watching as Janice sorted through paperwork, pretending to look busy so that she could avoid any small talk with ‘that Munson boy’. He had been waiting for Higgin’s to show up for almost fifteen minutes now, because why shouldn’t he waste Eddie’s time at this point? The worst that was going to happen today is that they’d do their little song and dance, Eddie would plead his case that the flyers were absolutely serious and that Chris Morrison had every intent to run for student council, and that it was all of the club that had made the posters, Higgins would shake his head and not believe Eddie for a second (which to be fair, this would be the first time that Eddie would admit privately that it was his fault), they’d go back and forth until Eddie got some form of detention or Saturday school. 

Honestly, the worst part would be rescheduling Hellfire if he wound up in detention. 

Eddie had counted out 13 paper clips that Janice had used in her papershifting before the door to the front office opened up again. He looked up, expecting to see Higgins walk in, ignore him for another five minutes, before Janice would let Eddie go in. 

He didn’t expect to see you, pale and shaken, clutching a teacher’s note in your hand. Eddie watched as you handed the note over to Janice who read it, shook her head, and pointed at the chair next to himself. Your eyes never left the floor as you sat next to him, staring at the cheap carpet as if you could somehow burn a hole in it and disappear. 

Trouble was no stranger to Eddie, and Eddie was no stranger to trouble. In Hawkins the name ‘Munson’ might as well be in the thesaurus next to the word. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and it would be far from his last as long as Higgins stayed the princiPAL. He’d walk away with a lecture and a sigh and then it would be business as normal. 

The look on your face though, that was far from the mild annoyance he felt. You look downright traumatized at the idea of having been sent here. Eddie glanced up at Janice who deigned to make eye contact with him now. Her eyes flicked between the two of you, a disapproving look behind her purple frames as if this was somehow Eddie’s fault that you had ended up here as well. But then, as far as any of the faculty from the office was concerned, even him being enrolled at this school was a death sentence to the rest of the poor student body. Eddie was a disease that they would try to contain until they had the cure to remove him. 

The shaking of your knee made your chair (and his chair by proxy) rattle slightly. The quiet of the office and the mundane shuffling of Janice’s papers only added to the tension that was radiating off you. 

“Janice, is Higgin’s gonna be long?” Eddie finally asked, and your bouncing knee stopped for just a moment before going back to its nervous movement. 

“He’s in a very important meeting.” Came the reply over a stack of papers, still not looking at Eddie. 

He sighed again and looked over at you, trying to place where he knew your face. Your eyes were a bit red, and you looked like you were on the verge of crying. Shit, he needed to do something before he had to ask Janice for the tissue box. 

“First time?” Eddie asked, and when you didn’t respond he nudged your knee with his. 

You jumped slightly, head snapping up. It was a wonder you didn’t give yourself whiplash and it would have been almost funny to Eddie had you not looked like a deer in the headlights looking at him. 

“I... Huh?” your voice cracked slightly. 

“What are ya in for?” Eddie did his best to give you a smile which he was sure made him look more like a serial killer than a comfort. It was rare he wished that he had his dad’s smile, but in cases like this he’d make an exception. 

You looked at the paper in your hand and swallowed. “Uh... skipped.” 

“Skipped school or just class?” Eddie prompted, trying to get you to talk more. If you were talking, then you weren’t crying. That’s what he hoped at least. 

“Class.” He didn’t think you’d say anymore but you surprised him. “US History.” Eddie caught the way your eyes darted to Janice again as if to make sure she wasn’t listening in, but Janice had better things to do than to eavesdrop on two delinquents. “I wasn’t... I had a bad day. I'm having a bad day. I felt like I was going to explode and I went to the library.” 

Eddie nodded, wondering what had happened today that made you need to duck out. It wasn’t his business, and frankly Higgin’s was going to grill you enough as it was. 

“Rookie mistake.” He said instead. 

“Rookie...?” 

Eddie kept his voice low and leaned in closer to you as if telling you a secret. “If you’re gonna skip, you can’t go to the library. You might as well have walked into the teacher’s lounge and announced that you were cutting class.”

You let out a sharp breath that he swore counted for a laugh. “Thanks for the heads up, can you tell me that a few hours ago?”

There was color returning to your face now and Eddie kept going. His brown eyes scanned your face, trying to place where he knew you from. Hawkins was a small town, and there was nothing about you that screamed ‘I’m new!’. 

He liked your sarcasm though, and his ‘comforting’ grin shifted into a genuine smile. “If you’re gonna ditch, you need to go to the bathroom or go outside.” He said. “Especially for last period. Go hide outside in the woods and you can slip into the parking lot seamlessly without anyone noticing. By the end of the day the teachers are barely taking attendance anyway.”

“Have you been in the girls rooms here?” you asked, shaking your head. “I think I’d rather take my chances here than stay in there longer than I’d have to.” Eddie wasn’t sure if you were trying to make a joke or if you were serious.

“Would you rather hide in the boys room?” he asked. “I swear it only smells like piss almost all of the time and you’d end up in the splash zone even if you were in a stall.”

That got a laugh out of you, a genuine one. Your shoulders were relaxing and you looked down at the paper again and took a deep breath that you exhaled with a sigh. 

“I’ve never been in trouble before.” you said, your hands starting to bend and fold the paper on your lap absently. “I’m not good at being in trouble.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m here.” Eddie nudged your knee again with his. “Being in trouble is kind of my job here at Hawkin’s High. I’m a professional, you know. If I wasn’t here taking up all of Principal Higgin’s time he might have to actually do his job.” 

That last part was louder, as he directed it to Janice who refused to take the bait and only reached for her lilac stapler instead. 

A small smack on his arm drew his attention back to you, you were smiling at him looking astonished. “You’re gonna get us in trouble!” you whispered at him. 

“We’re already in trouble.” Eddie reminded you, his smile never fading. “Look, you’ve never been in trouble before, right? You’re gonna be fine. Just give him a good sob story about being overwhelmed with school, or about a sick pet. If you can squeeze out some tears that’s even better. The worst that he’s gonna do is give you a slap on the wrist and maybe detention if he’s in a shit mood”

You take in his words, listening to him carefully and taking in every word he was saying as if this was life or death. Eddie admittedly, had purposefully slipped into his Dungeon Master voice. It was a skill that normally only worked on his little sheepies in his club, and that was after semesters of training his players to listen and pay attention to his words or else it would be life or death for their characters. 

Having someone else listen to him like that? It felt really good. 

Your mouth started to open to say something but then the office door opened again and Higgin’s stepped in, nodding to Janice and then looking at the two of you. There was an accusatory look in his eyes as he made eye contact with Eddie again, and it was clear what that look said. Leave her alone, don’t make things worse for her than they already are. 

“Munson.” Higgins said and it took everything in him to stay still and not flinch at his last name. He was used to the weight that came with his name, but he hadn’t wanted you to know who he was. Not after he just remembered where he knew you from, glancing down at the note that you had folded into a flower in a fit of nerves. 

“I heard you missed me, Sir.” Eddie forced his eyes to meet Higgin’s. “You really should just start saying hi in the hallways instead of inviting me to these little chats every week. You’re taking away valuable learning time from me, you know.” 

If the two of them had been alone, Higgins would have snapped back at Eddie about being a smartass. But you were there, and the color had drained from your face again, and there was a shine to your eyes that was threatening to spill over your waterline. Higgins looked at you and motioned for you to follow him into his office. 

Eddie wished that you would turn and look at him before disappearing into the PrincePAL’s office. He could imagine you turning to look at him for comfort, he’d give you a smile that would put you at ease and a thumbs up. You’d give him another smile and walk in feeling brave. 

Instead it was like you forgot he was there as your figure disappeared behind the heavy wood door that shut with a heavy click. 

Of course Higgins had you come in first, even though Eddie had already been sitting here since the beginning of the period when he’d been called in. 

He was tempted to go over to the door and press his ear up against it to listen in on what he was saying to you but even Janice would scold him for that. So there Eddie sat for another ten minutes as he waited for you to step out again. 

Higgin’s was the one to open the door and let you out of the office, as if he were some gentleman instead of Eddie’s own personal warden five days a week. You walked out and to Eddie’s surprise you gave him a nod and mouthed thank you as you slipped back out the door and into the hallway. 

Eddie’s eyes followed you until he couldn’t see you anymore and it took Higgin’s standing in front of him with folded arms and saying his full government name for Eddie to snap back to reality. 

“Munson. A word about your little flyers?”

“Well, I’d say a picture is worth a thousand words-”

“In my office.”

Eddie didn’t remember much else about that talk, only remembering the white paper flower that had been carelessly tossed into the trash next to Higgin’s desk. 

“He still hasn’t called you?” Steve asked as you, him, and Robin continued your closing routine. The day had been busy, with almost everyone in Hawkins coming to rent a movie for the weekend. Robin was stocking the candy while you wiped down the sticky counter where children had been touching all day. Who’s idea was it to leave out free suckers on the counter anyway?

Oh right, that was your idea because you loved Halloween. 

“Nope.” you said, your voice a little tense. It had been almost two weeks since that night at the Hideout. You hadn’t returned to the dive bar, hoping that Eddie would call you and make the next move. Each passing day you had stayed as close to the phone as possible when you were home and you’d checked your voicemail every day when you got home for any sign that he’d attempted to reach out. 

Nothing. 

You shouldn’t feel this rejected but you did. It was far too early to tell if you had any feelings beyond initial attraction to the guy, but... you’d felt something. An enjoyment of bantering with him and an ease that came as naturally as your friendship with Robin and Steve. 

Plus, you had to admit it, he was really fucking hot. Seeing him play guitar two weeks ago had haunted your dreams and slipped into a few of your fantasies when you were alone. 

You kept that part to yourself though, that was the last thing that Steve or Robin needed to hear. Besides, that was Steve’s job to go far too into detail about his sex life. Steve had tried ribbing you about going home with Eddie but you’d told him that you were a complete gentleman with him. 

That night had left you feeling electrified, almost high as you danced around your room as you got ready for bed. Even as his odd parting rattled around your brain, you couldn’t help but to feel excited at the idea of seeing him again. 

Then a few days went by. Then a week. And now two weeks later you hadn’t heard from him. The kids hadn’t stopped by either so you couldn’t hassle them about Eddie either. Even if they had, you weren’t sure if you could ask about him, you didn’t want to come across as desperate. 

“Did you ever figure out what he meant by ‘five times?’” Robin asked, opening up a squished package of Reese's Cups. “Like, didn’t you say you didn’t know him?”

You threw your hands up before tossing the paper towels you were using to clean in the trash can. 

“I have no idea.” you said. “Either I’m bad at math, he’s bad at math, or maybe we’re both stupid.”

“He did get held back a few times.” Steve muttered to himself. 

“There’s a chance that you two have met before though.” said Robin, “I mean think about it, you’re both weirdos who went to the same school. Shouldn’t you both have bumped into each other before?” 

“You’d think so, but my group kind of kept to ourselves.” you said with a sigh. “We were private weirdos. When I DID try and make other friends-”

“Yeah, yeah, Chris Morrison shot you down.” Steve said, waving his hand. 

“Oh, you heard that story?” you laughed. “I didn’t think I mentioned it to you before.”

Steve gave you a blank stare that only made you laugh more. “I swear you keep talking about that guy more than Eddie. Maybe I should track him down and set you up on a blind date with him instead.” 

“Don’t you dare!” 

“Hey, that could be fun!” Robin added. “We’ll dress you up super hot, set you up with Chris, and then you can turn him down instead!” 

“Excuse you, Robin. I am always super hot.” you declared, straightening out your unflattering Family Video vest. “Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

You hadn’t done laundry in a week, and your hair had seen better days. The green polyester vest was wrinkled and if Keith saw you looking sloppy he’d probably have words about it. Not big words or even intimidating words, but words nonetheless. It was night and day compared to how you’d looked at the Hideout and the arcade earlier in the month. But it wasn’t like you had anyone to impress while you were at work anyway. 

“Hey, nerdy chicks can be hot.” Steve said. “I mean, Nancy’s an academic nerd and I was crazy about her.” 

You hummed thoughtfully and turned to Robin. “How about we get married instead?” you asked. “You, me, a fuck ton of cats, and a tax break. What do you say?”

Robin laughed and shook her head. “You aren’t my type.” Her eyes darted nervously to Steve for a split second and you sighed dramatically. 

“Guess it’s just me and the cats I’ll eventually adopt.” you said. “Not even a tax break.” 

“You know, Keith thinks you’re cute-”

“I am going to pretend that you did not just say that, Harrington.” you said firmly. “Nope, not happening. Uh-uh. Absolutely not.” 

“He’s not... that bad?” Robin said, but you could hear the pain in her voice through the laughter. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” 

“The lady is trying not to think actually.” you laugh. “We’re closed, I’m actually done thinking. I just wanna finish cleaning up and go home. What’s left?”

“Rewinding the returns,-”

“Ugh.”

“Cleaning up the kids movies,-”

“Ugh.”

“And cleaning the bathroom.”

“UGHHHHHH.” 

“Would you rather clean up the porn room?” asked Robin. 

“Yes actually, I would.” You said. “Whatever they think about doing in that room is what they do end up doing in the bathroom.”

“Gross.”

Steve sighed “Okay, I’ll be the hero and save you ladies from cleaning the bathroom. Robin, you fix the kids section, and you can rewind the tapes.”

“I thought I was in charge here.” You crossed your arms. 

“Okay, did you have a better way to divide and conquer?”

“...No.”

“Then let’s hurry up and-”

Ding!

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” you asked. 

“It was Steve’s job to-” Robin started. 

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was staring at the person who had just walked in. You turned around and your heart jumped in your chest and your stomach dropped. 

“Cursing in front of customers, Harrington?” Eddie said. “Now that’s not very professional of you.”

Robin’s eyes were darting so fast between you and Eddie that you were surprised she wasn’t giving herself vertigo. You tried to give her a pointed glare but your friend either didn’t get the hint or refused to. 

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. 

Eddie looked away from Steve and made eye contact with you. It had been two weeks since you’d seen him, and you glazed at his arm for a second, trying to see if the faded remains of your phone number were still stamped on his arm. Unfortunately for you he was wearing a heavy leather jacket and you had not yet developed x ray vision. Perhaps in another genre. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie asked and you, ignoring Steve who looked mildly offended. 

You stood there in shock for a second before Robin nudged you in the rib. 

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, snapping out of it. 

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Robin grabbed Steve and shook his shoulder. 

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, already reaching for your bag under the counter. 

“We can handle it!” Steve said. 

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You could trust Robin, and as long as Steve didn’t knock down any displays then it wouldn’t take them more than another ten minutes to finish up. You were so tempted to turn them down, make Eddie wait as you had waited for him for the past two weeks. 

But you were already stepping behind the counter towards Eddie and tossing the keys to lock up to Robin. Keith would murder you and write you up (in that order) if he knew what you were doing but looking up at the roundest pair of brown eyes you’d ever seen had you in the mood to make questionable choices. 

You shrugged off your vest and tossed it at Steve, in an attempt to make yourself look like you hadn’t spent the whole day dealing with unruly customers and screaming kids. Part of you almost wished that you had agreed to bathroom duty, if only to give you an excuse to look in a mirror and straighten yourself out. 

“Thanks, guys.” you gave them a quick nod, catching sight of Robin’s knowing smirk and Steve shaking his head before walking out the door that Eddie was holding open for you. 

The last thing you heard was the scrambling of the entrance to Family Video being locked. 

Part 7

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Please comment and reblog <3

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[eirianerisdar]

For the director's commentary thing: I would love a director's commentary for Icarus on what went on in Red Bull HQ after Daniel came back, specifically when he went on the sim for the first time and it all went so horribly wrong- what happened that we didn't see in the story afterwards, how did Simon and the rest of the team cope? And how did Max react when he came back, did Daniel or Christian tell him what had happened?

Hahaha this is asking more for a Director's outtake rather than commentary, but I don't mind.

For the unaware, Icarus is a platonic maxiel wingfic where Daniel is pressured into trimming his wings for speed in McLaren, and has a long, slow fall before anyone notices. Much Maxiel angst and hurt/comfort and fluff.

Have an outtake from Max's POV that would have slotted directly after chapter 28 of Icarus:

=====

It's late when Max reaches Christian's country estate at last. He guns his engine and takes the imposing driveway up to the mansion at twice the proper speed limit, manicured trees blurring past on either side.

He's probably ruining the cobblestones. He doesn't give a fuck.

He should've insisted they delay Daniel's sim session until his flight landed. He should've-

Max steps back from the door, his hand smarting. He hadn't planned on banging at the door like that. He'd planned on ringing the doorbell. But every fibre of him is screaming for his flock; his wings feel like they are on fire.

One of the house staff opens the door. "Mr Verstappen-"

Max shoulders his way past. He's probably being rude but he doesn't care.

A moment, where he stands in the cavernous, marbled entryway, with sweep of the grand staircase up to the second floor and heavy oak doors leading in every direction.

Daniel. Where's-

"Max," a voice calls softly. "You're here."

Geri. Max snaps towards her. "Where's-"

"They're in the garden," Geri says, tilting her head towards the back of the house. "I think Daniel's alseep." She doesn't seem to mind the dirt Max is tracking into her house. But maybe she has people for that.

Max moves through the house like a dream. Entryway, living area, kitchen; through a set of french glass doors and into the back garden. The garden itself is dim, but there is a bonfire in the fire pit casting the grass in ruddy reds and yellows. Silhouetted in the flickering light are two winged figures - one with golden eagle wings crouching to tend to the fire, the other bundled in a blanket on a lawn chair, bandaged macaw wings painted sanguine by the light of the fire.

Daniel.

Christian stands as Max rapidly approaches. "Shh," he says quietly, holding a finger to his lips. "He's sleeping."

Max's ignores him. He drops to his knees next to Daniel's lawn chair, reaches out with a shaking hand to brush Daniel's curls out of his face.

Daniel looks paler than when Max saw him last a week ago. The firelight makes the shadows under Daniel's eyes look bruised.

Daniel shifts in his sleep, leans into Max's touch. Even in sleep there is pain on his face.

Max twists to look over his shoulder at Christian.

"Explain," he says accusingly. He needs to understand.

Christian had promised he wouldn't force Daniel's healing wings into the sim before they were ready. Christian had promised that the team would treat Daniel with the care and respect he deserved after what that other team had done to him. After he'd almost lost his wings.

"He reopened his wounds in a couple of places," Christian says. His eyes are fixed on Daniel's bandaged wings. "But the hospital said he'd be okay. They've stitched him up."

"What the fuck does that mean," Max hisses. "How did it even happen?"

Christian puts up his hands. "Simon tells me he pushed himself," he says. "Went through the break without stopping, and he wanted to get back in the sim so we could perfect the setup for Brazil-"

"Fuck off," Max hisses. "Don't - don't fucking tell me he was bleeding into the sim and nobody noticed."

Christian looks at him. There is grief and guilt in Christian's eyes, but over it all, bitter, seething fury.

"Max," he says. "None of us noticed for a whole fucking year."

All the air is punched out of Max's chest.

It's true. Max hadn't noticed his own flock slowly fading to nothing as Daniel hid his trimmed wings from the world. Max hadn't noticed Daniel entering a wing crisis that fateful week before Monza, either.

Daniel shivers under Max's palm. His breath comes short against Max's knuckles.

Max takes a slow, shuddering breath, takes up Daniel's hands in his own to warm them. They feel like ice in the cold night air, so Max sets a hip on edge of the lawn chair and pulls Daniel into his arms. He wraps his trimmed wing as far as he can around Daniel's shoulders and drops his chin into Daniel's hair.

Daniel relaxes. His breath evens out.

Max inhales, breathes in the warm woodsmoke of Daniel's hair. "I'm taking him home."

Christian frowns. "Don't be ridiculous," he says, and he is Max's boss again, sharp-tongued, effortlessly efficient. "It's late. Geri and I'll put you up."

Max gathers Daniel closer. "I'm taking him home," he says. "Back to my apartment in Milton Keynes. We'll fly back to Monaco in the morning."

Max's apartment in Milton Keynes; the spare room that has slowly morphed into Daniel's, with Enchante merch in the closets and preening brushes in the living room, a place that smells of flock.

Christian rolls his eyes. "Max, don't be-"

"Daniel," Max whispers, pressing his forehead to Daniel's temple. "Daniel, it's time to wake up."

Daniel stirs. He blinks up at Max, brown eyes turned muddy with painkillers.

"Oh," Daniel slurs. He scrabbles at the sleeve of Max's jacket. "Maxy."

"Yeah," Max says. His heart is expanding and shattering at the same time. "It's me. I'm taking you back to my place."

Daniel blinks rapidly as his bandaged wings shift behind him. His face blanches with memory and shame. "I'm sor-"

"No," Max says. "You can apologise later. Let's get out of here."

Christian stares between them. "You're fucking serious," he says disbelievingly. "Both of you."

Max doesn't bother looking at Christian. He pulls Daniel's arm over his shoulders and gets to his feet, dragging Daniel up with him. They make their slow, swaying way back through the house, Daniel's head lolling on Max's shoulder and his breath gusting over Max's chin.

Christian is talking rapidly with Geri now, but Max doesn't care. He brushes aside Geri's well-meaning hands and hoists Daniel down the front steps and into the passenger seat of his car.

"You know what? Fine," Christian is saying from the front door. "I can't stop you two being idiots. Fucking goodnight, then."

"Christian!" Geri admonishes. "Goodnight, Daniel, Max."

Daniel acquiesces for Geri to pat his cheek, and Max shuts the door as soon as Geri steps back. He moves past Christian as he circles the car to get to the driver's seat. Christian doesn't say anything, which is good. Max doesn't want to talk to him.

They pass the stupid marble fountain and pull out of the driveway proper, on past the artificially manicured trees and into the Oxfordshire night.

The motorway is nearly empty this time of night. Max takes up a steady pace towards Milton Keynes.

Daniel wraps his blanket more tightly around himself. Max reaches over wordlessly, threads his fingers through Daniel's.

Daniel sighs as Max's thumb moves over his. His breath evens out slowly, slows into sleep.

Max doesn't let go of Daniel's hand the entire way back.

======

For the uninitiated, you can read more of Icarus here!

Send me an ask with a scene or set of lines from any of my fics and I'll give you a director's commentary! Or, send in a ⭐star⭐ to have me select a section I've been dying to talk about!

(This particular ask ended up being an outtake, but director's commentary is more in the vein of explaining choices in wording or scenes, or explaining narrative choices)

[heyhay13]

Lightning Round QnA!

We had over 250 questions in the form and we focused on ones that were very open to anyone in the cast. So specific detail questions got left out :(

Here's a lightning round of questions to answer for y'all and my ask box is open if you have more!

Rae/Heyhay Questions

What happened to Icarus's birds?? We know Rae said he'd take care of them, but with the birds being wacked and Icarus whole memory type thing, what would happen with that.

Sherb and I talked about this a bit and landed on the birds seeking out Rae and he builds an aviary for the strange new little friends following him around. I might even write a fic for it!

Heyhay how long did the scrapbook (shown at the end) take to be made?

I worked on it for nearly a month and a half between organizing with the artists and making it myself!

How did you come up with Vaeh's Name?

It's from Fenris' sister Nevaeh!

Will you continue to cosplay the characters after this?

Absolutely!

To Rae/Hayhay: what was your favorite memory to make in the Always Remember Book?

I think probably all of the wedding details. I loved talking with my friends to plan out the details and outfits SO MUCH and a lot of the poses are based on my own wedding photos!

Are there any plot lines that you wish you could have done or explored more in depth, but couldn't due to time?

We initially had some ideas for finding a few more Telchin temples, including Project Protetus. I really like building the temple/facilities so that would have been fun!!

How did lore planning/pre stream work?

We usually plan out rough ideas for a stream in dms and then meet 30 minutes before a stream to go over everything, dry run some things like flight paths, and do sound checks!

Out of all the characters on fable smp, which one do you think you could win in a fight against?

Ven lol

Will we see other versions of the fable characters in other smp's like Bound?

You might >:3

If your character didn’t ascend, what would they be the god of? And if they did ascend, were there any other domains they could have been the god of other than the domain they got?

Rae's took FOREVER to actually land on. I was really stuck on wanting something that felt more correct than Knowledge and we tossed around a lot of ideas until landing on Wonder.

How much of the relationship constellation was planned?

Literally only Raax and Ocie's original partners (Rust, Jerry, Shawn) were planned! The others came about naturally as the lore progressed.

Did Rae ever get better at baking/cooking?

YES! At least slightly-

How old is Rae in the time period that Rye made in Rae’s epilogue

Not an exact age for Rae, but his epilogue takes place when Vaeh is roughly 4-5 years old.

The first two seasons have “names” (endstone reset and skulk reset) but what would be season three’s?

I like to think it'd be called the "Last Reset"

What is your favourite kind of fanfictions written about your character? (Tropes/themes/etc)

I'm a massive sucker for Hurt/Comfort fics-

Clarification Questions

What was that one gold aura building near the temple of creation in S1?

It was a build from Sherb's hardcore world at that time!

Why did Rae remember Icarus? I thought everyone was supposed to forget but I might’ve misunderstood

Rae remembers Icarus as a child up until when Icarus' first death would have been! Isla would also remember Icarusa as a child as well.

Was the release me book from season one written by fable?

Yes!

What is Haley? She came back from the dead but no body ever said if Midas made her come back or if she was a god.

Midas brought her back, switching her and Fable's places so he would go back into Purgatory

Why couldn’t Haley see quixis’ changes from purgatory?(and fable)

There is no record of Quixis in the Akashic Records. This is also why Icarus is missing from the records in Rae's epilogue!

General Questions

Are you guys gonna do another smp where its everyone as the same cast?

Nope, not with this exact cast at this time, but we all are on a bunch of other smps you can check out! Mer, Bound, Siege, and more!

Is there a reason behind all of the seeds you use in Minecraft? Or is it just the first biome that pops up is the new setting for the season?

We actually look really hard for a good world seed that we like. For season 3, we really wanted a good spot that the tree could be near the ocean and this seed worked out great for that!

Will we be able to have a world file of S3?

YES - it's coming soon!

[thequeenofsastiel]

Rewatching season 1 and I'm STILL furious that they not only had Lestat almost kill Louis, but they ruined their first flight together. For those who haven't read the books, it's at the end of Queen of the Damned. Lestat had only just acquired the power, and had never flown of his own power before. He chose to have his first flight with Louis. I'll transcribe it, for those who want to read it:

I kissed him suddenly, thrilled by the warmth of him, the soft pliant feel of his near human skin. God, how I hated the whiteness of my fingers touching him, fingers that could have crushed him now effortlessly. I wondered if he even guessed.

There was so much I wanted to say to him, to ask him. Yet I couldn't find the words really, or a way to begin. He had always had so many questions; and now he had his answers, more answers perhaps than he could have ever wanted; and what had this done to his soul? Stupidly I stared at him. How perfect he seemed to me as he stood there waiting with such kindness and such patience. And then, like a fool, I came out with it.

"Do you love me now?" I asked.

He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. "Yes," he said.

"Want to go on a little adventure?" My heart was thudding suddenly. It would be so grand if--"Want to break the new rules?"

"What in the world do you mean?" he whispered.

I started laughing, in a low feverish fashion; it felt so good. Laughing and watching the subtle little changes in his face. I really had him worried now. And the truth was, I didn't know if I could do it. Without her. What if I plunged like Icarus--?

"Oh, come now, Louis," I said. "Just a little adventure. I promise, I have no designs this time on Western civilization, or even on the attentions of two million rock music fans. I was thinking of something small, really. Something, well, a little mischievous. And rather elegant. I mean, I've been awfully good for the last two months, don't you think?"

"What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Are you with me or not?"

He gave another little shake of his head again. But it wasn't a No. He was pondering. He ran his fingers back through his hair. Such fine black hair. The first thing I'd ever noticed about him--well, after his green eyes, that is--was his black hair. No, all that's a lie. It was his expression; the passion and the innocence and the delicacy of conscience. I just loved it!

"When does this little adventure begin?"

"Now," I said. "You have four seconds to make up your mind."

"Lestat, it's almost dawn."

"It's almost dawn here," I answered.

"What do you mean?"

"Louis, put yourself in my hands. Look, if I can't pull it off, you won't really be hurt. Well, not that much. Game? Make up your mind, I want to be off now."

He didn't say anything. He was looking at me, and so affectionately that I could hardly stand it.

"Yes or no."

"I'm probably going to regret this, but...."

"Agreed then." I reached out and placed my hands firmly on his arms and I lifted him high off his feet. He was flabbergasted, looking down at me. It was as if he weighed nothing. I set him down.

"Mon dieu," he whispered.

Well, what was I waiting for? If I didn't try it, I'd never find out. There came a dark, dull moment of pain again; of remembering her; of us rising together. I let it slowly slip away.

I swung my arm around his waist. Upwards now. I lifted my right hand, but that wasn't even necessary. We were climbing on the wind that fast.

The cemetery was spinning down there, a tiny sprawling toy of itself with little bits of white scattered all over under the dark trees.

I could hear his astonished gasp in my ear.

"Lestat!"

"Put your arm around my neck," I said. "Hold on tight. We're going west, of course, and then north, and we're going a very long distance, and maybe we'll drift for a while. The sun won't set where we're going for some time."

The wind was ice cold. I should have thought of that, that he'd suffer from it; but he gave no sign. He was merely gazing upwards as we pierced the great snowy mist of the clouds.

When he saw the stars, I felt him tense against me; his face was perfectly smooth and serene; and if he was weeping the wind was carrying it away. Whatever fear he'd felt was gone now, utterly; he was lost as he looked upward; as the dome of heaven came down around us, and the moon shone full on the endless thickening plain of whiteness below.

No need to tell him what to observe, or what to remember. He always knew such things. Years ago, when I'd done the dark magic on him, I hadn't had to tell him anything; he had savored the smallest aspects of it all on his own. And later he'd said I'd failed to guide him. Didn't he know how unnecessary that had always been?

But I was drifting now, mentally and physically; feeling him a snug yet weightless thing against me; just the pure presence of Louis, Louis belonging to me, and with me. And no burden at all.

That's one of my favorite scenes in the whole series, and I just wanted to share it. I hope y'all got as much enjoyment out of it as I did.

[what-gs-watching]

"Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we can go off together!"

So. I was supposed to be in Boston this weekend enjoying some well-earned time with my tiny baby nephews that I haven’t seen in over four months, but, right before my flight, I tested positive for COVID because my husband’s job is stupid and they forced him into an in-person trip last week and tada! EVERYONE got COVID. 

I’m furious. So I got into bed and I cried about it and I felt sorry for myself and I tried to settle down and THEN I saw the news about Good Omens season 3. 

And so now I’m feeling more terrible things on top of terrible things. And I hate it. And I’m devastated. And slightly relieved. And sad. And grateful. 

If y’all are unaware, season 3 is now just a single, 90 minute episode that will supposedly wrap up a universe that has become so large, so important, to so many. And that feels like a gut punch.

The thing is - Good Omens saved me last year. I’d watched the first season when it came out in 2019 and then kind of forgot about it, but was excited when I learned about the second one. I went back and re-watched the first and then dived into the second and it took over my heart and my brain. I finished it maybe a week or two before I was unceremoniously fired from my toxic-as-fuck job and I was absolutely unmoored and I needed something

And thankfully, Good Omens was there. It was a way for me to shut my brain off, lose myself, without actually losing myself. I absolutely could have been extremely self-destructive just then, I have that streak in me and it runs deep, but I didn’t have to follow it because I was too distracted by a 6,000 year love story between two beautiful idiots. 

So I watched the entire thing again (and again) because I couldn’t get over it, the brainrot was real and welcome, and I wrote about it here, and then I found the @goodomensafterdark subreddit (because it turns out, I’m a little bit of a creep and so are they) and I fell into fanfic and all of that is the main reason I made it through nine months of devastating, trying, numbing, soul-crushing unemployment. 

And maybe found myself a little bit, too. I’ve changed, I know I have, and it’s good and it’s odd and I think I like it.

And all of that is absolutely because there’s such a huge community around this show. It’s absolutely fucking beloved and it speaks to weirdos like me because it’s malleable and it can be whatever it needs to, to whoever needs it. There’s so much possibility, the breadth and depth of the universe and all of its history and two perfectly imperfect characters finding themselves and each other inside it. The potential of the story is alluring. And the things that have been created by the people who connected with it, the art and the words, it’s beautiful (‘Pray for us, Icarus’ and ‘Factory Settings’ and ‘How do we turn on the light’ and fucking ‘Shutgun Wedding’ and people like @vavoom-sorted-art and goddamn @gleafer, I mean FUCK), and it helps this world we all cherish expand even further. 

Which is why the people that love it, that have been touched by it, just want an ending that does it justice. And it’s horrific to have to accept that someone who helped create this universe and these characters that have dug themselves into our lives could be an absolute fucking degenerate, but honestly, haven’t we’ve moved beyond that? They don’t belong to him now, they belong to all of us. It’s heart wrenching to think that one piece of shit could taint something so beautiful, so I understand the grief. We were promised more time, and it’s hard to let go of that.  

But it could have been worse. Based on the chatter Amazon was ready to pull the plug entirely and I get that, why risk it? Who wants to roll the dice on something apparently partially created by someone like that? Cutting their losses just makes sense. 

So I’m thankful too, that we get something, and we get something because there are still good and amazing people behind this thing that love it as much as we do. That understand it’s become bigger than just another show churned out by one of the many streamers. That’s something we can rejoice in. 

The important part is, we’ll get an ending. And it’ll be ‘canon’, but you know what, y’all? Fuck canon. We apparently have been following the wrong anti-christ all this time, so does it really matter what’s considered “true”? We’ll get to see David and Michael bring something to life one more time, and that’s beautiful, being able to visualize it - appreciating the swing of Crowley’s hips and Aziraphale’s micro expressions and his heart eyes and the very specific and beautiful chemistry these two overwhelmingly perfect actors bring to these characters, but that doesn’t have to be the final word, it doesn’t have to be the ONLY thing we get - 

because Good Omens has a life of its own, it’s a self-contained universe and it invites anyone in, all of us in. Whoever you are, come as you are, join this weird fucking multiverse and make of it what you need. 

Aziraphale and Crowley are husbands. They’re wives. They’re best friends. They’re eldritch horrors. Crowley never fell. Aziraphale fell. Neither of them fell. Both of them fell. They’re angels and demons. They’re humans. They’re a ghost story. And a love story. And a horrifically tragic story. And a fantasy. And a fairytale. And they’re trapped in a time loop. Or they both spent 6,000 years on earth but didn’t meet each until recently. They’re feuding history professors. Or unlikely roommates. Or exes trying to reconnect. They’re an archangel and a duke of hell attempting to stop the fucking second coming. 

They’re soulmates attempting to settle in the South Downs and figure out what it finally means to choose each other. 

They’re all of that. They’re everything, all at once. They’re whatever you see in them, they’re what you need them to be. 

The point is, these last 90 minutes, these precious 90 minutes, are hard won, and I’m starting to believe they’ll be beautiful and satisfying because I need to, but they’re also just a jumping-off point. The story doesn’t end. The universe continues to grow. Because all of you wonderful people out there, writing and creating and appreciating something that speaks to you, sharing it, letting it connect us. 

Beauties, Good Omens belongs to all of us. It’s bigger than flawed humanity and dubious business decisions. It’s OURS. So feel what you feel, but also feel lucky, because like Michael said, it’s going to be okay. After all, even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we can still go off together (forever, in whatever way we choose).

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

A Freak and a Basket Case: Chapter Two: Made in Heaven

From the Delulu Writer: You’re going to realize that I don’t write short fics. This was straight from Google Docs mobile. I don’t know how long this is, so fuck it we ball. I’m hoping the generous Eddie POV helps break this aversion to longer fics.

Warnings: Flight of Icarus spoilers, references to drug use, minor suicide mention.

[Masterlist] - Chapter One - Chapter Two (You are Here) - [Latest]

***

The ’85-’86 academic year had to be his year.

It had to be.

It was his last shot. The last hoorah. He had just barely made the cutoff age for the academic year, and it was a miracle in itself that Principal Higgins had a modicum of decency to give him a break and let him even try to attend school again. He would be cutting it too close for comfort, and during the summer Eddie Munson had promised his uncle that he would get his head out of his ass this time around. No more screw ups. No more bullshit scams.

That promise was made in summer, when he was still able to sleep in, hotbox the feelings of shame and guilt away in his van, and gorge on junk food during unholy hours of the early morning before passing out until noon.

Now that he was being jolted awake by both the shrill sound of the radio alarm, and his uncle was kicking his mattress to wake him up at four thirty in the morning before he’d even gotten a good chance at sleep, Eddie was ready to throw in the fucking towel. Bitter thoughts swarmed in his mind.

Fuck it. Kick me out of school. See if I give two shits.

He was at the point where he was forgetting what was important. Last year was a year of losses. Almost losing the Hellfire Club to bullshit blackmail orchestrated by a sadistic son of a bitch of a principal that he did not fully trust. Ronnie had at least reached out via letter after a time, and she sent a few clipped sentences written with an electric typewriter all the way from New York whenever she had enough money left over from dorm expenses to buy postage stamps. But Dougie had gone nuclear. Never quite forgiving his friend for what he had almost undone.

And then there was Paige…

Eddie had been thinking of that mess nonstop the first day back for some reason, running late stuck behind a green Dodge with wood paneling while also battling the commuters during the clusterfuck that constituted rush hour in Hawkins, Indiana. He didn’t know why he was in such a hurry when that morning he’d been ready to give up all over again. Emotions were running high and low, he felt like he was trapped on a broken-down roller coaster falling apart on a shoddy side of the road carnival. Wanting to jump off, throw up, scream, and cry all at once as the reality of everything set in.

Eddie Munson had fucked everything up. Once in a lifetime opportunities lost to the ages in the year of 1984.

’86 had to be his year. Otherwise, he had nothing else left.

He was on his way to his locker when a string bean of a freshman wearing khakis and a button down polo from the GAP slammed into him from behind. Eddie immediately turned around to catch him before he hit the ground, asking the dazed boy if he was okay, confirming it was so, then looking towards the source. He assumed it was a jock, it always was, but he saw no suspicious hunter green letterman jackets lurking in the throng of students looking to get to their classes.

And then there was the gaggle of girls laughing and pointing, but he couldn’t see the object of their teasing because once he came within five feet of their gaggle they saw Eddie the Freak and bolted. So far the first day back was shaping up to be one of those weird days, whispers abound of some bitch of a basket case wandering around dressed for a cold front in August.

For obvious reasons, Eddie was intrigued. A bitch of a basket case was new. Especially ones wearing winter coats in summer when the humidity drowned you before the heat got to you. He doubted there was any merit to the rumors truth be told, but he had to see it for himself. He searched high and low, ditching his first period class to see if he could catch a glimpse. And then like an answer to his prayers he heard a siren call:

Metallica on cassette. Kill ‘Em All Album. Side 1. Approximately thirty nine minutes and six seconds into the album. Track number nine. Seek and Destroy.

Blasting so goddamned loud that from his distance it sounded faint, but he knew that whoever was listening to it directly would be deaf before their twenty-first birthday.

He saw you beelining for the front door, and instantly Eddie was fascinated by you. Sure enough you were all bundled up in your quilted Carhartt jacket like a blue collar worker braving a blizzard, gray skirt swishing as you power walked down the hall. The music beckoned to him, and the Black Sabbath patch on your blue backpack encouraged him to follow. Despite the stormy look on your face and the fuck off aura radiating from you, Eddie couldn’t help but allow the admiration to take over. He wasn’t intimidated, he wasn’t repulsed by your demeanor or appearance. Quite the contrary, Eddie could see something in the way your body communicated to the world:

You were a lost, pathetic little lamb trying to butt heads with everyone and everything, unaware that the world was fanged and scary and could spit you out in a malformed bolus should it desire.

And yet you still kept trying to fight back.

It was as if his body was moving of his own accord. His heart knew before his brain could logically process what was happening. A compulsion, his inner wild child, sent signals to his feet to quicken his pace as he raced after you, adrenaline coursing through him as he heard nothing but the steady pace of your gait matching the pulse of Seek and Destroy. Eddie didn’t stop until he was so close he was breathing in your scent, and in a sudden burst of confidence, both hands flashed out and snatched you by the backpack straps, pulling you in until you were flush against him. He yanked off your headphones, getting in close until his lips were grazing the shell of your ear.

“You’ve got bitchin’ taste in music there, princess. Metallica, right?”

Your scream cut off the last bit, and he held onto you like he was holding a wild stallion steady as you jumped nearly ten feet in the air. You were still pressed with your backpack to his chest, your own little chest heaving with fear.

“FUCK ME FREDDY!” You hollered. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Eddie laughed hard as he spun you around to face him, hands steadying your shoulders as he looked you in the eye with a large smile on his face.

“Sorry, sorry… Relax. Didn’t mean to scare you there. But hey, at least that got your attention, right?”

You hit the pause button on your Walkman and killed the music, looking up with a stormy and defiant expression. Eddie realized something when you looked at him: you had been hiding behind fear. Your eyes, minimized by the thick coke bottle lenses within the frames of your glasses, began to soften when you looked at him. He could see the tightly wound tension leave your body as you relaxed. Your facade was slipping. Before him was an individual army crawling through hell to survive.

“You uh… you heard my music huh?” you said quietly.

Eddie grinned, nodding enthusiastically.

“Oh yeah. From all the way down the hall. You like Metallica?” he asked.

“Uh huh…”

Eddie grinned at the shy answer. God… You were adorable.

“Hell yeah, good taste. Metallica is one of my favorites too.”

He noticed you weren’t much for eye contact. As much as he tried to meet your gaze you wouldn’t look right at him. It seemed as if you were closing yourself off from everyone, a purposeful and calculated act. Understandable if he was being honest. Your eyes were red rimmed and your nose was still dripping a little bit. The morning must not have been kind. For a moment he saw your vulnerability, and it endeared him to you.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” he said gently, holding out his hand.

“Eddie?” You cocked your head to the side, sweet little face looking up at him as if expecting a trick.

“Yup.” he popped the consonant at the end, and he tried to give you a sweet disarming smile to show his sincerity, “That’s me, Eddie Munson.”

Gently, slowly, he felt your warm hand envelop his. He shook it just enough; not too firm of a handshake that he scared you off, but not so weak that it seemed he didn’t want to touch you. Because if the way his heart was racing at the feel of your warm palm against his was any indication, he very much did want to touch you, and he wanted to make sure you knew it.

A few seconds ticked by, and you finally told him your name after letting go of his hand. He noticed at first that you seemed to try saying something else, but you quickly corrected yourself. Eddie repeated your name slowly. It suited you. Very lovely. Silence for a beat, and then you gulped and spoke up to end the silence.

“My favorite person in the whole wide world is an Eddie…” you mumbled softly.

“Yeah? Who’s this other Eddie?” He raised an eyebrow, dimples showing with the big cheeser he had on his face as he noticed you still weren’t letting go of his hand.

“Eddie V-… Eddie Van Halen…” you stammered.

Eddie’s heart nearly stopped.

“No way, are you shitting me right now?” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No… I’ve seen him live… he’s… he’s really cool.”

Inhale through the nose, hold for five seconds, exhale through the mouth so he didn’t start having a heart attack.

“How the hell did you end up going to one of those concerts?” He managed

“… my dad. Last year... He took me for an early birthday present…”

So you’ve got good taste in music, and you have a dad that takes you to concerts like Van Halen as an early birthday present…

“They were pit side. I got one of the shirts at my house.”

God dammit… No. There’s no way. There’s no way in the hell that you’re real…

“Which concert was it?” He croaks tentatively.

“The 1984 Tour… I saw them and Autograph play… in Albuquerque.”

He had to stop you right there.

“Okay wait hold on, your dad seriously took you out of Indiana all the way into the middle of nowhere in New Mexico just to see Van Halen for your birthday?! Where in hell do you even live where that seems like a feasible option?! That’s a twelve hour drive at least!”

“I used to live in New Mexico.” You said softly. “I’m not from here…”

Yeah, yeah of course you weren’t from Hawkins. There was no way in shit someone as cool as you, someone who had been pit side to Van fucking Halen, could be from Indiana. It almost gave him flashbacks to shades of his ex, and he nearly wanted to pull away from the conversation. Yet you were so sweet, so different, and he knew if he let you just become a random anecdote in the annals of time, Eddie would have thrown up for weeks and then jumped into traffic if he saw you being poached by someone else.

He pressed on. Heart racing and trying to maintain so that he didn’t spook you.

“Could have fooled me, you don’t have the accent for it.” Eddie said, leaning up against one of the tan lockers.

You hesitated and bit your lower lip, nodding and rocking side to side on your feet as you began to pluck at the loose threads of your jacket.

“… people here don’t like to hear it. So I cover it up…” you said.

“Good idea. Because honestly, it’s not worth the trouble… You’re in Hicksville now. Hawkins isn’t the first narrow minded white bread town, and it’s not going to be the last. Especially if you don’t fit in with their good ol’ boys club mold. Hell, I don’t even fit in it. I’m the biggest target for these bigoted assholes with my reputation. I don’t doubt you’ll get the same amount of bullshit I do.”

“You…?” You blinked, confusion written on your face, “Why would anyone make fun of you?”

Harsh laughter erupted from his throat, and he was so consumed by the absurdity of your question that he didn’t notice you flinch back. As if he was being crucified, Eddie held out his arms dramatically wide, his battle vest opening up to show off his Led Zeppelin baseball tee with a couple of holes in the fabric where the rivets on his jeans had been rubbing against them.

“Take a good look at The Freak of Hawkins High sugarplum. I’m a long haired satan worshiping metalhead cult leader. I play shitty Pantera and Slayer covers in a dive bar every week. I deal drugs to the preppy kids that have more money than sense. I lure innocents in to play my little satanic Dungeons and Dragons games, and then I hotbox it in my van afterwards with them. I’m a Munson, furthest thing from a good little schoolboy. No, no, we Munsons drop out of high school and go to jail young, and probably die young too.”

He went on and on, the word vomit not stopping. If he was going to be honest with himself, he knew this potential thing you two had was dead on arrival from the moment you opened your mouth and started talking about Van Halen. You were way out of his league, even by metalhead standards. From what he gathered, you had deep pockets, or at least your dad did if he was able to take you to shit like Van Halen concerts, something Eddie could only dream of. Everything about this was scary. It was scary and horrifying and the only thing he could think of doing was self sabotaging before he got too attached to you.

And then you frowned, still looking at the floor, until you spoke up, looking him directly in his eyes.

“That doesn’t make no sense… Sounds like a bunch of horseshit to me.” You said simply.

He watched it all happen so suddenly and he couldn’t look away. His large brown eyes widening and his heart turning cartwheels in his chest when he saw the little twinkles of light, the little pinpricks of stars beginning to glimmer in your eyes as you held direct eye contact with him. It wasn’t just that you were cute, because Jesus H. Christ you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life. There were other things he’d never seen on anyone he’d dated: honest to god romance novel pining on your face, your soft lips parting slightly as if you wanted to speak but had lost the words. Your body moved in closer to him, and his own reciprocated purely on instinct, inviting you into his space.

Magnetism.

“None of it makes any sense does it?” He said, voice so low you had to lean further in to hear him, “But this is Hawkins. Judgemental jackanapes abound and people like you and me are lambasted for the crime of being different. Double for you I’m guessing, since you’re the new Hispanic kid in town.”

You nodded, looking hopefully at him.

“Let me guess, you had an easier time fitting in when you were in New Mexico, right?” He asked.

There was a brief hesitation as you gathered your thoughts.

“… Kind of. Maybe not towards the end, but there’s a lot of guys into heavy metal and leather and stuff. A lot of my tios- my uncles- are rockers. My brother likes it too.”

“Older or younger brother?” He asked.

“Older…”

“He get you into metal?” He grinned.

“Yeah.” You said, nodding, “He started me on Black Sabbath and Ozzy, my favorites other than Van Halen. My dad was the one who showed me Van Halen… oh, and Dio…”

“Rad… your dad and your brother got you set up with the best of the best. You have some of the most badass taste in music in all of Hawkins right now.” Eddie praised, and he’d wished he had complimented you sooner, because now that he saw you smile and giggle at his compliments he couldn’t get enough, “… and that’s a hell of a smile you’ve got there sweetheart. And a pretty laugh to match.”

“Quit it…” you giggled.

“Hell no, you can’t just tell me to quit it the second I give you a compliment. Gotta take the compliments where you get them.”

There was that smile, that goddamned cute giggle. The reaction he wanted. You covered up your mouth as you began to uncontrollably laugh, as if you’d taken a fat hit of reefer and had the permanent giggles. He loved people like you, who acted high and giggly without any external help. But he didn’t like how you were trying to hide those teeth from him. He wanted to see it. Wanted to see your smile and bask in the good feeling it gave him.

“Ah ah, none of that!” He scolded, holding up a finger, “You quit hiding that pretty face from me. What? You don’t want me to see it?”

“Nuh uh!” You giggled.

A devilish grin came over Eddie’s face.

“You gonna make me get forceful, sweetheart?”

“Noooooo…!” You whined, laughing harder as you shook your head quickly.

“Cut it out then. Put that damn hand down, lemme see that pretty face.”

Eddie began to wrestle your hand away from your face as you squealed in delight, shrinking in on yourself as he let out a mad giggle. He was enjoying this, enjoying the feeling of touching you and not having his face slapped or being punched in the stomach. You welcomed his touch, almost craved it, flying into a fit of hysterical laughter when he played dirty and grabbed your sides, tickling your soft plump abdomen so that you were forced to move your hands away from your face to shield your belly.

At the end of it, Eddie was breathless with laughter, holding your sides and swaying with you. Coming down from your fun, he saw your smile for the first time. No pearly whites. He could see the flaws and imperfect teeth as you smiled ear to ear.

Real recognizes real…

You are very much real. Very much so. You’re warm and soft and real underneath his fingertips.

“Princess,” he breaths.

You cock your head, swaying side to side and your grin never leaves your face.

“There we go.” He says softly, stroking your sides, “There’s that beautiful smile. See? Much better when you’re not hiding it behind your hands.”

Your eyes sparkled, starry eyes…

He’d only ever seen hungry eyes before. Only ever been desired like one desired a succulent steak or a rich slice of cake. Last year felt like he was giving up so many vital aspects of himself that he almost felt like an imposter when he kept trying to have a better year, a shot at a better life. Everyone had taken from him last year, gnawing at the bones of his corpse until there was nothing left.

Paige looked at me like she wanted to eat me…

But you…

You look at Eddie Munson as if you are awestruck by him, and as shocking as the feeling is, it makes him feel beautiful for a split second. He feels important. He feels valued, like he’s been the epitome of good alignment his whole life and the chaotic parts don’t matter. You look at him like you’re seeing a mythical hero. As if your village was burning to the ground all around you and he’d just come in the nick of time, clad in mithril armor, immune to the flames and devastation and ready to swoop you up to your feet.

But that defiance when you first faced him, the fire in you, it’s a strength, it’s a power he is drawn to. Realistically he knows if he were to swoop in it wouldn’t be to save you, it would be to help you pick up your own sword and fight alongside him.

He wanted that. He wanted someone to fight life’s battles alongside him.

He wanted that someone to be you.

[beaumars]

ain't no sunshine - j.seresin

Hi Everyone! Lori here! As I stated in this post, I once attempted to write an OC insert for TGM but I never got around to posting it because life got in the way -- and also because i deleted the tumblr app because i had gotten bored with it. i've had other accounts since then dedicated to other fandoms and when I got bored i would delete the app, a truly vicious never ending cycle. however, my tiny little lizard brain always came back to the Top Gun: Maverick fandom and so I once again redownloaded the app to check out the new content. Over the course of my tumblr career i have used a plethora of emails, i couldnt remember the last one I used for my last account so i tried the ol' reliable that I always used (i use another email now for work and professional purposes) and alas! i find my way back to beaumars, an account i forgot i had.

Back to the post I had linked above, though. When i opened my drafts i saw this fic, my proto-fic if you will, just sitting there and i realized i had no fucking idea where this was going, so for the past couple of days i fiddled with my brain and used a good section of a journal to plot out and world build the new and revamped version of this fic. So without further ado, i present Aint No Sunshine.

Special thanks to @credince--writes for assuring me that an OCs backstory can never be too tragic, @j-hauke for solidifying that dr. pepper is a funny call sign, and @thespillingvoid for encouraging me to post this two year old fic as I work on the newer version.

A multiple-part fic with an OC.

What would have been a multiple part fic with an OC.

***

SOMEWHERE, STATESIDE

"Sanchez! Seresin! Stop flirtin' up there, goddammit!"

Major General Thomas Avery wasn't usually known for sugarcoating shit. His tone of voice and way of flight was powerful and commanding, earning him the call sign 'Zeus', it left no space to play games, especially in the skies he seemed to reign on. Avery may be a patient and understanding man on the ground, but when it came to his domain, no one could escape his wrath. Not even the two aviators currently in the air. Without context, one would think the two were trading coy remarks with one another. They're far from right.

"Seresin, you smug ass! Cover me!"

Their objective: drop the dud on target while avoiding the 'enemy'. For every ten minutes they failed to get tone on one of their fellow aviators, another came into the sky to play. The final boss would be Major General Avery, who preferred hands-on methods when it came to flying with the aviators that passed through his base. So far, no one had even come close to even getting their sights on the older man before being 'shot' down. Seresin and Sanchez were the last pair.

Ego's, bragging rights, and a pink slip to the Major General's 1960 El Camino were on the line.

"You got it twisted if you think you're getting that damn car, Sanchez."

Christina Sanchez would roll her eyes if she wasn't focused on trying to complete their exercise, "I could give two shits about the car, Jake. I'm trying to do my job!"

"Keyword. Trying. You're not doing a very good job at it, Chris." He sassed.

"Keep up the chatter and I'll come up earlier than you want me to," Avery threatened. Promised. Stated. It didn't matter, they were screwed either way.

The sun had begun to set ten minutes ago after the longest-running pair had put up a good fight. Some Air Force pilot whose last name was Torres, and her very own wingman: Olen Reeves, callsign 'Icarus'. Jake and Christina were relentless in the heavens, taking their 'shot' no more than ten seconds after Falcon and Icarus entered their air space. In theory and on paper, Sanchez and Seresin are a great team, but their manners towards each other at the current moment were proving otherwise.

On the ground, he could only pray she didn't physically tear Seresin a new one when they landed.

"C'mon, Chris. Get him out of your head," he whispered.

The last rays of light were escaping the flying duo, both of them cursing their terrible luck, knowing what was to come.

Jake got tone on their last aviator, "Jesus, Chris, we would've been done by now if you'd stop leaning on me."

"You keep leaving me out to dry, shithead!" She retorted, "Maybe if you actually stuck closer and acted like a wingman, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"You need to stop relying on others, sweetheart. What are you gonna do when you're all alone up here with no one to watch your back? What're you gonna do then?"

"Shut up," she chastised.

"Suddenly, I spit some truth and you want me to be quiet?-" Jake was in disbelief, he knew the girl was prideful, but he didn't think he went that far in his critique.

"I said shut up, moron," she said, her breathing getting heavier.

"The hypocrisy is deadly, San-"

"Jake! Shut up!" She panicked, "it's gone quiet."

"Fuck."

"Strike three," was the only warning Zeus gave.

Both let out a string of curses as they barreled to avoid being targeted.

Using the last gleam of light in the evergrowing dark sky, Chris commanded, "Alright, Jake, take a hard left when I say," but as she turned her head to get a look at him, she saw that he had left her side in pursuit of Zeus, "you little shit, did you just leave me hanging!?"

"The only one hanging on is you, Sanchez. Get with the program or get shot."

Thomas Avery hated to admit it, but the Seresin kid was putting up a hell of a fight, and Sanchez was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately, it would be his downfall, as the sky went dark, Zeus taunted Jake, "Mistake number one: you left your wingman hanging, Seresin."

"My wingman is currently on the ground. Ain't that right, Falcon?"

On base, Falcon laughed, out of concern and amusement, "Zeus is gonna hand him his ass on a silver platter."

A chorus of 'mhm' and 'damn straight' could be heard in the vicinity.

Nearby, Olen Reeves could only look out the window and try and make out where the three of them were, once again praying, this time for her safety and that of her impromptu wingman.

Seresin was wearing a shit-eating grin until the next words fell from the Major General's mouth, "Mistake number two: you're up here with me now."

Jake went silent, he knew he fucked up, and now he was hoping Chris would come out of radio silence and tell him that she was on her way.

Nothing.

She wasn't even showing up on his radar.

"Why the sudden silence, kid?" Zeus was just playing with Jake's mind at this point, with the younger aviator already in his sights, ready to take the shot.

"Sanchez, I could really use your help right about now!"

Once again, nothing.

"Sanchez! Don't leave me hanging!" Jake could only maneuver so much in a dark sky he wasn't used to. He could hear beeping, letting him know that the experienced man was closing in on his plane. Jake mentally prepared for the call, but it never came.

"Sometimes a chef's gotta try what he's cooking, Seresin," Chris came out into the radar at the last minute and used her flares to temporarily blind Zeus and distract him, giving Jake an escape.

She barrelled and went right under her commanding officer's plane, hiding for a good second before hitting the brakes, using the hard stop; Zeus flew right past her. She sped back up and tailgated the man, being careful as to not end up in his jet wash, it only lasted so long before she and Zeus were engaged in a minor dogfight.

"Seresin, where are you?"

"Trying out the daily special, send my compliments to the chef," he said as he pursued Zeus on his own.

"Damnit, Seresin! Can you be a team player for once?" it seemed that in his presence all she could do was complain and vice versa. So bad together, yet so good, if only they could throw their egos out of the cockpit.

"You're hanging on well, Seresin. Unfortunately, it won't be enough," the beeping was loud, it was a lock, "that's a shot."

"Fucking shit!-"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Zeus toyed, "Fly back to base, kid. It was a good run."

Was.

It was a word that would haunt him for years to come.

"Now, Sanchez. Where could you be hiding?" Thomas asked himself out loud.

It was silent for a good thirty seconds when he felt a force push him towards the right, "There you are."

Zeus went to follow the plane when suddenly, the force came from the right this time, rattling his plane and giving him difficulty locking on her. He didn't know how she was doing that or how fast she was coming at him or even where she was coming at him, but it was starting to unsettle him, dare he say, she was scaring him.

The older man leveled his breathing, taking a minute to recompose himself. Mistake number one.

The beeping came too fast, followed by the lock, and three words, "That's a shot."

Down below, everyone, from crew to pilots alike had their mouths hanging open.

"Holy shit, she did it," Olen breathed.

Another pilot by the name of Carol then shouted, "She got the fucking car!"

The silence then turned into groans of defeat.

Jake sat in his cockpit, having landed minutes beforehand, ripping his helmet off in anger as he heard Chris' announcement.

"Get back to base, kid. That was one hell of a fight you put on."

"Thank you, sir," she acknowledged breathlessly. Chris was riding a high as she landed, the first person to greet her on the tarmac was none other than Olen.

He crushed her in an embrace for a few seconds before pulling back and reprimanding her, "what the hell were you thinking?"

"I- well- I wasn't exactly-"

"Thinking." Finished the Major General, he came up from behind the embracing pilots, "she was doing. Those are the makings of a great pilot, ladies, and gentlemen. You all could learn a little something from that."

Sanchez turned to see that all the other pilots and WSOs had congregated, Jake hanging in the back.

"Seresin," Zeus called out to the man, "You had me on the ropes there for a bit too, young man."

"Let me guess, gotta stop leaving my wingman hanging?" his tone with little to no emotion.

It was late, and Zeus just wanted to go home, so he just stayed silent for a moment before reaching into his flight suit pocket and pulling out a piece of paper, "As promised... Nyx."

Confused, Chris asked, "Sir?"

Zeus just smiled and walked away, "I want everyone back on this tarmac by o six hundred hours, not a minute later," he called over his shoulder.

[fxckadoodledoomunson]

Christmas Party |One-Shot|

Summary: You and your family get invited to a Christmas party where you meet a handsome metalhead when the both of you are trying to avoid your old flames.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, conspiracy theory

Author’s Note: references from Flight of Icarus novel, as well as They Live.

The moment you arrived in Hawkins, you wanted to go back. You couldn’t face your ex-boyfriend Mark, not because your relationship ended badly, but it was for a silly reason, which made your folks keep reminding you about.

“He’s a very nice young man,” your mother kept commenting.

“And an excellent baseball player,” your father added.

“If you hadn’t told him that silly-“

“Seriously, can you two please just stop?” You groaned. “We didn’t date for very long, and besides, we’ve both moved on.”

You huffed, as your father continued to drive, whilst he exchanged glances at your mother.

After a while, you found the house. It had been a long time since you came back. The last time you and your parents came was three years ago when you were still in the early stages of your relationship with Mark. His parents, Julia and Hank were very welcoming. His older sister, Paige arrived a day later, as her flight from L.A. was delayed. As soon as you saw her, you knew that she had to be part of the entertainment industry. It was confirmed that she was after Julia told you that Paige was an assistant to a record producer. Since then, she had been promoted, according to your parents.

Even though you and Mark had split up, both of your parents still kept in touch, which led you to come to theirs for their Christmas party.

You weren’t able to attend in the last two years, as the whole town was still dealing with the aftermath of the earthquake.

You remembered that on the way through, there were some parts of roads in need of repair.

As soon as the front door opened, Julia welcomed you and your family with a hug, before telling you to come through.

You were taking notice of how the interior was beautifully decorated with silver ribbons and tinsels, like how you remembered from the last time you came, that you didn’t pay attention to someone calling you. It wasn’t until you heard a piercing whistle, which finally caught your attention. You turned to find Paige running towards you in her short sparkling black dress, before giving you a hug.

“It’s good to see you,” she said, as she let go of you. “How’ve you been?”

“Yeah, I’m good thanks,” you replied, as her father came up to you and handed you both a couple of glasses of champagne, before moving out to find the Harrington family, leaving the pair of you to chat about what you had been up to.

You had learned that Paige had found another band to sign with WR Records.

You congratulated her, as you both clinked your glasses together, before she asked, “So, you got any plans for after graduation?”

“Well, I’ve still got six months to decide,” you replied.

“Well,” Paige took a sip of her champagne, before telling you, “I know a couple of people who are in the business who are looking for photographers, so if you want, I can recommend you to them.”

You thanked her, as you heard laughter coming from outside. You both turned to the back door, finding Mark walking back inside, covered in snow, whilst holding hands with a blonde girl you recognised, Justine from one of your roommates’ classes.

As soon as you made eye contact with the two of them, you swiftly turned your back. “You’re really gonna avoid my brother all night?” Paige asked.

You sighed, before replying, “Honestly? I’ve been trying to avoid him since the split.”

Paige wrapped her arm around your shoulder, as she sighed, before telling you, “I’m sure that he’s forgotten what you said by now. It’s been what? Two years?”

Suddenly, you heard Mark call out Paige’s name. You turned to see him and the blonde approaching you both, before swiftly turning your head again, telling Paige that you need to go to the bathroom.

“Stupid idiot,” you muttered to yourself, as you made your way upstairs, finally heading to the bathroom. You began to open the door, as you continued to grumble. “Don’t have the fucking balls to stay and just say-AH!”

You yelped, realising that someone else was already in the bathroom. You quickly turned around, as you profusely apologised.

“I didn’t realise that anyone else was in here,” you said quickly.

You heard a husky chuckle, before a male voice replied, “It’s okay, I guess I forgot to lock the door. Not that I’m doing a shit or anything.”

You heard the chuckle again, before the guy asked, “Do you need to use the bathroom? Because I can leave and find somewhere else to hide.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, as you turned around to see a tall handsome young man with long wavy dark hair tied in a ponytail, sitting on the toilet, wearing a burgundy shirt with black tie, along with plain black trousers and black shoes.

“Wait…you’re hiding too?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nervously chuckled. “Just hiding from a girl, I hooked up with a long time ago.”

“Ah,” you giggled as you slowly walked into the bathroom, before closing the door behind you. You then confessed, as you leaned against the door, “It’s funny, well not funny, but…coincidentally, I’m also hiding from someone too.”

“An old boyfriend?”

You nodded, before telling him, “Yeah, and his new girlfriend.”

The guy exclaimed, before saying, “Well, that sucks, er…Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

After telling him your name, he got up and moved closer to you, as he stuck out his hand and told you, “Nice to meet you, I’m Eddie.”

As you shook his hand, you couldn’t help but notice the scars on his face, as well as his hand. Realising that you were staring at them for too long, you had let go of his hand, as you cleared your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare at your um…”

You cleared your throat again, before apologising again when Eddie lightly chuckled, “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

You sympathetically looked into his doe eyes, as he silently gazed at you, before Eddie cleared his throat, and asked, “So, you said that you were hiding from your ex-boyfriend. Anyone I know?”

“Mark Warner,” you replied. “His parents are actually hosting the party tonight.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, as he stammered, “M-Mark Warner is y-your ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“I uh…” Eddie nervously chuckled, as he scratched the back of his head, before confessing, “Yeah, it’s funny, I’m actually hiding from his sister.”

“Paige?”

Eddie nodded, as you asked, “So, you and Paige were a couple?”

“Well, kinda. But it didn’t end well.”

Suddenly, it dawned on you who he was. “Hang on!” You exclaimed, “You’re Eddie Munson?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, worried about what you were going to say next.

“You’re the guy who went to jail when you were supposed to be at the audition for WR Records?” You asked.

Eddie sighed with some sort of relief, knowing that you didn’t know that he was accused by most of the people in town for murder.

“Well,” you spoke again. “Are you him?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. “But that wasn’t my fault.”

You sat on the toilet, as you asked, “So, what happened?”

Eddie felt relief, hearing you ask that instead of the same question that Paige asked him when he told her that he was arrested.

He took a deep breath before telling you how he ended up arrested, no thanks to his father and his scheme.

“And is that how you got your…scars?” You asked, as you pointed at the scars on his hand.

Eddie silently lowered his head, as you smacked your palm against your forehead, apologising. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie interjected, as he lifted his head and turned to you. “And to answer your question, no…I got them from another, um…incident.”

You were both silent for a moment when Eddie asked, “So…why are you hiding from Mark?”

You sighed, as you sat beside him.

“It’s actually silly when you think about it,” you told him.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” Eddie giggled.

“Well…I kinda insulted the sport he plays.”

“Uh…” Eddie chuckled, before asking, “In what way?”

“Well, a couple of months after we got together, we were on a double date with one of my roommates and her boyfriend, and the guy mentioned that he played Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Let me guess,” Eddie interjected. “He brought up the accusations of satanic worship involving the game?”

“Pretty much. And I don’t know what came over me, but I told him that baseball was an occult ritual.”

Eddie silently blinked, as you elaborated, “Because the field is like a Freemason logo?”

Eddie silently gazed at you, before he abruptly cackled, “Oh, I wish I could’ve seen his face when you told him that!”

As he continued to laugh aloud, smacking his thigh, you started to laugh as well when Eddie leaned back, falling into the empty bathtub.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you stood up.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, as he rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll tell you what, my uncle Wayne would like you. He likes a good conspiracy.”

You giggled, as he wriggled in the tub, so he could sit up.

“So that’s why you guys broke up?” Eddie asked. “Because he didn’t like what you said?”

“My folks still keep bringing it up every time he’s brought into the conversation,” you replied, whilst rolling your eyes. “I should count myself lucky that I’m even allowed back in the house.”

The two of you laughed, as you stuck your hand out for him to grab so you could pull him out of the tub.

As you tried to pull him out, you lost your balance and fell on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, as you wriggled in the tub while your body was pressed against his when he winced.

“I haven’t hurt you, have I?” You asked.

“No, it’s just…” Eddie sighed, before continuing to speak. “I haven’t been physically close to anyone since my injury.”

“Oh,” you exclaimed, as you tried to sit up. “Sorry, I didn’t realise- “

“It’s okay,” Eddie softly interjected, as he placed his hand on top of yours.

You glanced at his scarred hand, before shifting your attention to his face. “How did it happen? Was it because of the earthquake?”

Eddie nervously chuckled, as he looked down at his thighs, before replying, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

You silently gave him a small smile, before telling him, “Try me.”

Eddie looked up at you, as you waited for an answer. Instead, he slowly leaned towards you, as he glanced at your lips, when you both heard the door swung open, causing you to turn away from him as you heard someone say, “There you are.”

It was Paige.

Eddie tried to avoid eye contact with her, while you stammered, trying to explain that nothing happened between you and her old hookup when Paige spoke up, “Mark and Justine left five minutes ago with Andy and Chance. You don’t need to hide anymore.”

You carefully got up, trying not to trample on Eddie, as you got out of the bathtub. You thanked Paige, as you exited the bathroom, before making your way downstairs, while Eddie sat still, avoiding Paige’s gaze.

“Eddie?” She spoke up. “Eddie, look at me.”

Eddie reluctantly turned to face his former flame, as he softly said, “I can explain-“

“She’s a great girl, Eddie,” Paige interrupted. “And if you fuck it up with her, you’ll have me to answer to, got it?”

Eddie frantically nodded, when Paige told him, “Now, get your ass out of the bathtub, before I get my dad here.”

At once, Eddie frantically got to his feet and got out of tub, before heading back downstairs to find his uncle.

Eddie looked around to find Wayne. When he finally found him, he saw that he was by the buffet table, talking to you.

As he slowly approached the table, he overheard you and Wayne talking about They Live.

“Well, you were lucky to see it,” Wayne told you. “They pulled it out of the theatre a couple of days after it was released.”

“I guess they didn’t want anyone to know…” you stopped talking, as you realised that Eddie was standing in front of you two.

You smiled, as you greeted him, “Hello again.”

Eddie smiled back, as Wayne asked, “Come out of hiding, son?”

Eddie nervously chuckled, when you told him, “Mr Warner’s just introduced me to your uncle. You were right, he does like a good conspiracy.”

Wayne laughed, as he took out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, before announcing that he was going outside for a smoke. “You coming too?” He asked Eddie.

“Uh…”Eddie hesitated, as he glanced at you.

Before he could reply, Wayne chuckled, “I’ll be outside if you’re in need for a smoke.”

He then turned to you, as he told you that it was nice to meet you.

“You too,” you replied, as Wayne started walking to the back garden, leaving you alone with Eddie. You grabbed a potato chip, as you both began to speak at the same time.

“Did you talk to-?”

“Are you staying-?”

You both paused, before the two of you giggled.

“Did you talk to Paige?” You asked, before taking a bite of the chip.

“Yeah, well…” Eddie replied. “She talked, I listened.”

“Did she grill you about what happened with you two?”

“Not really. She said not to fuck it up with you or I’ll have to answer to her.”

“What?” You giggled.

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted. “Not gonna lie, it kinda freaked me out.”

“I mean, we’ve only known each other for like, five minutes? And-“

You laughed again, before apologising, “Sorry, it’s just weird that Paige said that.”

Eddie chuckled, before asking you, “So, are you staying in Hawkins long?”

“Just for a couple of days, and then I have to head back to Boston for New Year’s.”

“Boston?” Eddie asked in a disappointed tone. He didn’t know why, but he felt crushed that he wasn’t going to see more of you.

“Yeah. My friend’s having a party and I already decided that I was coming, so…”

Before you could say any more, Eddie abruptly leaned towards you and gave you a passionate peck on the lips, which astonished you.

As he moved back, Eddie cleared his throat before announcing that he was going to join his uncle.

As he started walking towards the back door, you quickly followed him, and grabbed his hand, as you said, “Eddie?”

He stopped and turned to look at you when you grabbed his face and kissed him back.

As you moved your hands away, Eddie was about to speak when you told him, “I’m graduating next year, so maybe we can plan something for the summer?”

Eddie grinned, before telling you, “Yeah, definitely.”

You smiled back, before pulling Eddie in for another kiss, unaware that Mark and his friends came back.

“Is she really kissing the freak?” Andy asked.

“He must’ve done a ritual to make her like him,” Mark grimaced, receiving a smack in the back of his head from his sister, as she glared at them, before turning to happily watch you and Eddie chat, as the two of you headed out to the garden.

[howlingday]

Seuqcaj

What if Jacques Schnee was... Well, what if he wasn't Jacques Schnee?

Winter: My father had a stroke years ago.

Willow: He didn't really. Weiss just says he did to excuse his behavior.

Jacques: Did you know that the peanut is neither a pea, nor a nut?

Ironwood: ...So, I understand you were once a huntress?

Jacques: Oh, wait... It is a nut.

---------------------------------------------------

Lisa: I hear you can you say your name backwards. Is that true?

Jacques: Seuqcaj!

Lisa: And what is your favorite food in the whole wide world?

Jacques: Seuqcaj!

Lisa: ...

---------------------------------------------------

Weiss: Mother! Have you seen Whitley?! I think I lost him!

Willow: When was the last time you saw him?

Weiss: Last night, when I took him on his first date.

Jacques: I remember my first date~!

Jacques: Your mother never looked lovelier~.

---------------------------------------------------

Willow: Well, I think Whitley looks dashing, and if you won't go to the gala with him, then I will~!

Jacques: What about me?

Willow: I was going to give you some rubber bands to play with, but if you insist, you can come.

Jacques: Oh... I could have had rubber bands...

---------------------------------------------------

Willow: Thank you all for coming tonight. Now, we all know why we're here tonight, don't we?

Jacques: To see those keeno nitro rockets! Vroom, vroom~!

---------------------------------------------------

Winter: I'm at a loss... I don't know if there is a way to fix Penny.

Willow: Your father is working on an experiment of his own. Perhaps you two can collaborate?

Winter: (Walks into Jacques' study w/ Willow, Sees convoluted contraptions at work)

Jacques: (Looking through a microscope)

Winter: And what is the... purpose of this experiment?

Jacques: I'm developing the world's very first fish-powered death ray! It'll make Roman Torchwick's version look like a joke~!

---------------------------------------------------

Jacques: (Standing next to a snow-woman) Winter, your man troubles are over because I found you the perfect mate~!

Jacques: His name is Ken and he lives in Malibu. He has a girlfriend named Barbie, but she's not much of a lady. More plastic than person, if you know what I mean.

---------------------------------------------------

Weiss: Father, I'm in love with two people, and I don't know who to choose between them.

Jacques: Oh, that is a tough one. I had gone through similar travails when I was with your mother.

Maybe in the past?

Jacques: (After beating a man senseless) I punch like comet, then drink 'til I vomit, I'm Jackie the Sailor Man~! (TOOT! TOOT!) Agh agh agh agh agh!

---------------------------------------------------

---------------------------------------------------

Willow: Weiss! Jaune! I'm so glad you could make it!

Jaune: It's wonderful to see two people together after thirty years.

Jacques: (Stabs Jaune with a fork)

Jaune: OW!

Jacques: Oh! He is real~!

Weiss: ...Ugh, not one of his better days.

Willow: I'm afraid it is. I just don't know what to do; our marriage has never been this shaken and Jacques just isn't the man he used to be.

Jacques: (From the very top of a high pillar, Dressed up as) NANANANA! BATMAN~! (Swings down, Choking out a server) BATMAN~!

Klein: (Sighs) Very good, sir.

Clerk: ON STRIKE!

Jacques: Excuse me, my good man, but I could put you through with a man who can help. A man named... Batman..

Clerk: Er, that won't be necessary, sir.

Jacques: Oh, yes, it will! (Chops in the neck) BATMAN~!

Willow: (Sighs) Not every bullhead is on strike, are they?

Jacques: (Looks around, Sees Icarus Flights)

On said flight...

Jaune: I guess I could help, but I'll need a babysitter for Adrian.

Willow: This- This flight is dreadfully bumpy!

Jacques: I'll go have a word with the captain. (Enters Captain's cabin, Gasps) A pig?! (Grabs Six Swans bottle) And he's been drinking!

Pilot: (Pig Faunus, Burps)

Jacques: Wait a second... Pigs can't fly... PIGS CAN'T FLY! (Bullhead nosedives)

In the middle of the ocean...

Willow: (Reaching for an oar)

Pilot: (Grunts unintelligibly)

Jacques: I don't care how many stewards and stewardesses you bagged; you're still a lousy pilot!

---------------------------------------------------

Weiss: Not to worry. I know just the man for the job; my father!

Later...

Adrian: (In a car seat, Giggling as he bounce) I love monster truck show~!

Jacques: (Driving monster truck) Hm? What show? (Continues crushing cars in the street)

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Weiss: Father, are you sure you're up for this?

Jacques: Weiss, it's only headmaster. Could I do any worse than Ozpin, or Ironwood, or Lionheart, who sold out his huntsman to Tyrian Callows for protection from Salem?

Whitley: Hm... Maybe he is cut out for this.

Jacques: Of course I am! (Pulls on face mask) Now let's rob that bank!

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Lisa: Our candidates are entering the stage now. Atlas Headmaster James Ironwood, Happy Huntress Robyn Hill, and former Councilman of Mantle Jacques Schnee. Councilman Schnee, an opening statement?

Jacques: As the first Faunus female head of the human supremacy group, I'd just like to say Atlas SUCKS!

Adam: This might actually hurt us more than it helps us.

Lisa: And Councilman Schnee, what would you do in the event of a Grimm invasion?

Jacques: (Cooking at podium, High-pitched) Then, you sprinkle your chicken liberally with old spice~!

Willow: Oh, Jacques, what can we do to save our darling son?!

Jacques: Not to worry, Willow, my darling wife. I have friends in high places who can help us!

At Atlas HQ...

Ironwood: Jacques. Always a pleasure.

Jacques: General Ironwood, my son is being held hostage in Menagerie, and I need you to save him. I've funded Atlas Academy for years, and I've never once asked for anything in return!

Ironwood: You asked to be made councilman of balloon doggies.

Jacques: I never asked to be made councilman of balloon doggies, the balloon doggies demanded it of me!

Jacques: (Holds up balloon doggy) Isn't that right?

Jacques: (Falsetto) "No!"

Jacques: Quiet, you!

Ironwood: Oh, Brothers...

[myth-of-light]

Sorry to bother you a second time with an ask(none of my friends know kid Icarus so I got no one to talk to about)

But when hades pokes fun at pits inability to fly palutena states “his wings just don’t work right”

I googled “wing deformities” and the first thing that came up was angel wing, a deformity where rapid wing development causes the wing to outgrow proper bone support, causing the wing to bend out at an unnatural angle and a permanent inability to fly

And what’s it caused by?

An unhealthy diet of rich protein and carbohydrates.

And we know pit loves food. Specifically things like sweets and fast food, based on his distaste for veggies as stated in Palutenas Revolting Dinner

I rest my case

Well apologies, but I am going to challenge your case! A year late! (I am always happy to receive ask dw)

And if anyone notices mistakes below please comment! espically with formatting.

Angel Wing Syndrome

Angel Wing Syndrome is a deformity that effects aquatic birds, such as ducks and geese. Angels, like Pit, are typically inspired by the Dove and other birds that are typically non-aquatic birds. But let's say Pit is a swan or something, this still doesn't fit.

Angel Wing Syndrome also limits or completely restricts a bird from flying, which isn't the case for Pit, he can flap/glide on his own and with assistance from the Gods, can fly. If he had Angel Wing Syndrome he would mostly likely not be able to fly at all.

Not to matter that was make Angel Wing Syndrome so recognisable it the physical deformity is has on the bird. Having vitals feathers pulled to the rear. Pit clearly does not have this.

Though I will agree Pit doesn't have the best diet.

There are 10 possible food to have for health, this includes:

Fruits: apples, melons, grapes,

Meaty Foods: meat, hamburgers, sushi

Junk food: cakes, ice cream, doughnuts, bars of chocolate.

There is no vegetables! Unless you count anything in the burger haha.

But this ask did make me wonder, why can't Pit fly? And if there is any evidence in game to why.

I seem to find in an answer in by comparing when Pit can fly vs when he cannot.

Pit's Wings

In the original game he looks like this (oh gods the quality I apologise)

His wings go along his upper back, though pretty small right? Only reaching the neck when stretched out.

But now look at him with the Wings of Pegasus, they reach his head. Now while this could just be a visual to show the Pegasus' Wings Superiority, but perhaps Pit's wings aren't big enough to carry his weight.

But before I came to a conclusion, I looked at Uprising

First two (top layer) are Pit's wings normally where as the last two (bottem) layer is when the Miracle of Flight is activated. It may be hard to see but his wings are bigger when the Miracle of Flight is activated. You can see this when Pit jumps out at the start of a chapter, but can also see this in the cutscene in Ring of Chaos , when Viridi activated Flight.

You can see his wings grow. As seen in the images below and at the beginning of the clip.

I also looked at the pegasus wings for Uprising, but they are turned off because of potential unreliability, according to Palutenas(see image one below), hence they aren't any bigger than normal miracle of flight(image two below).

Note: when Pit is extracted from battle his wings do not change. (image three below)

So when Miracle of Flight is activated, Pit's wings grow? It that just a special detail or does Pit need bigger wings?

Dark Pit's Wings

To figure this out we can also use Dark pit for when he gets Pandora Power.

Pre-Pandora, his wings are similar to Pit's(see first image), but when he gets Pandora they almost double in size (see second image), you can really feel the difference.

But what is fascinating, is that when you fight him again, his wings are back to the average size (see third image). At first I thought this was an inconsistency, but no, as after the battle he seems to activate his wings, become big again (see fourth image).

Dark pit doesn't gain/have better wings, he gains power to activate his own infinite Miracle of Flight, which also make his wings bigger. He seems to prefer smaller wings for flighting (as they probably make them both lighter on their feet).

This makes me think that the Pits don't have big enough (or at the very least strong enough) wings to carry them. So the Miracle of Flight acts as an aid that give them these things while in flight (as Dark pit chooses to deactivated on the ground).

This is probably the answer.

(more speculation below)

But if that is the case, the biggest question is

Why does Pit's Wings Burn/Why is there a limit to the Miracle of Flight?

This part now is just speculation. (Also I am ignoring the last scene of 15min flying for this post, as I just think it's just a credit thing.)

Is seems that if the Miracle of Flight is used for too long Pit gets burnout both metaphorically and physically, his wings catch aflame due to the limit. So why is there a limit, and why does Dark Pit not have it?

The only difference between Pit and Dark Pit is how they gain their miracle of flight.

Dark Pit absorbed Pandora's power, making it his own. Therefore the power he uses to fly is (temporary) his own that he can control and regulate. Whereas Pit has someone else acting upon him, gods for that matter. Who cannot regulate their power being exerted upon him as well as Dark Pit can on himself.

I think it's the different between external vs internal regulation that is the difference between Pit and Dark Pit here. Dark Pit can know exactly how much power/usage he needs for flight whereas the gods made be just shoving a bunch of power in Pit's wings, not knowing how to regulate it correctly to Pit's needs. For the Miracle of Flight to be safe and unlimited, Pit has to be the one giving power to his wings.

But in order to get that power he has to steal it, which has been shown to be unsustainable as Pandora lived on in Dark Pit's wings. Not only that but it had to be all of Pandora's power, who was a goddess. So I don't think Palutena can simply give this power to Pit, as is has to be the power of an entire deity, but if you absorb that power, the deity lives on. While the circumstances of Pandora's revival were rare, there no certain way to know that there isn't other ways an absorbed deity can get their power back.

This makes in unlikely that Pit could one day fly on his own indefinitely. Though can offer explanation on why Dark Pit can fly. But alas, this part is more speculative than the other (hence under the cut). But it is interesting to think about.

Thanks for the ask!

[hellfirenacht]

Plus One Chapter 1

Summary: Once upon a time, you made a deal with the school freak that if he ever got famous then he'd invite you to be his plus one at a red carpet event. Now a decade later an invite shows up at your house asking you to be the +1 to Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin.

Tags: modern!au, Eddie and Reader are in their late 20's/early 30's after the deal is made. Rockstar!Eddie. Friends to strangers to friends to lovers, references to Flight of Icarus characters eventually

The squeak of desks being pushed across linoleum flooring made you wince as everyone adjusted the classroom for partner work. It was too early for this, you hadn’t slept the night before and had almost been late to this class, taking your seat at the last second just as the bell rang. 

First period science wasn’t your hardest class, but it wasn’t exactly your best subject either. You’d been floating along with a solid C and that was as good as you were hoping to get. As long as you graduated by this point, you’d be happy. It was near the end of your senior year, and senioritis was hitting you hard. It was your hope that you could just coast these last few weeks, pass your finals and get the hell out of the public school system. 

There would be no coasting this morning though as you were all assigned partners. No one was thrilled about this development aside from a few peers who had been partnered with their friends. You weren’t exactly unpopular but you didn’t have anyone in this class that you would consider a friend or even an acquaintance. You’d borrowed a pencil once from Randy who sat in front of you, but other than that you kept to yourself first thing in the morning. 

Which is why when the name ‘Munson’ was called out along with your own surname you’d barely registered who that was. A few people snickered and you caught one girl giving you a pitying look as you tried to connect the name to a face. It took your partner sitting down across from you for you to realize who you’d been paired with. 

Munson. Eddie Munson. Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson. 

Ah. That Munson. 

“Uh, hi.” he said, with a wave and you desperately tried to reconnect the tired wires in your brain to say hi back. 

“Mornin’” you managed to spit out. He sat in the back of the class on the opposite side of the room. You rarely even saw him in class because you were usually here before him, and he was the first to get out the door when class ended. You never said a word to him the whole semester, but again, you didn’t talk to anyone in this class. 

Worksheets were passed around and you stared at the different questions and equations. You might as well be sitting in Latin class with as much as this made sense to you. 

“I know this is a higher level than what you all are used to, but this is what is going to be expected of you in college next year.” Your teacher explained, followed by a chorus of groans which included yours as well as Eddie’s. 

The two of you stared at the worksheet for a moment before making eye contact. You felt a little nervous under his gaze; you’d seen him around school and had heard the rumors about the leader of the Dungeons and Dragons club. He’d been seen pushing around freshmen wearing the same shirt as him, and was often regarded as a loudmouth and a danger to everyone in school. 

It didn’t help his case that he looked older than you. His broad shoulders were only accentuated by the heavy leather jacket and denim vest giving him the appearance of someone who absolutely should not be in high school. How old was he anyway? 

“Eddie.” 

You blinked, surprised he was the first to speak. You offered your name as well with a nod, neither of you going for the handshake. 

“So... does any of this make sense to you?” he asked, looking back down at the worksheet. 

You glanced down with a small laugh. “Not even a little.” 

“Shit.”

“Shit.”

He looked up at you with a sheepish grin, and you swear it took at least five years off his appearance. You found yourself relaxing just a bit, if he was as dangerous as everyone made him out to be, at least he wouldn’t do something stupid in the middle of class. Hopefully. 

You grabbed your textbook and opened it up and Eddie leaned over the desk to read with you. 

“Sorry, forgot mine.” He said and you adjusted the book so it sat between the two of you. 

The next half hour was a testament of will as the two of you tried your best to work out the formulas put in front of you. The ancient calculators that the teacher had provided only caused more confusion between the two of you and you tried to figure out buttons that you had never had to press before. 

“I’m sure someone, somewhere is using this on a daily basis.” you said as you jotted down a string of numbers that you were positive were wildly incorrect. “I understand that this is important to someone, but outside of a trivia game there’s no way I’m ever going to even think about this ever again.” 

You were mostly talking to yourself, not expecting a response from your partner. He was looking at the calculator, and your string of numbers with equal confusion. 

“Music is as advanced as my math skills go.” Eddie said. He’d removed his jacket at some point where you were staring at your textbook with a blank expression trying to understand how to apply the formulas. You couldn’t stop your eyes from occasionally flicking towards the tattoos that covered his right arm. So he was at least old enough to get tattoos... or to have a parent or guardian agree to let him get tattoos. 

You weren’t sure why you were so hung up on his age. Maybe it was easier to focus on that mystery than the jumble of letters and numbers that was making your brain more numb than it already felt. 

“What kind of music?” The question was out of your mouth without thinking. You didn’t think you’d seen him hang out with the band or orchestra kids before. 

“Metal and rock music mostly.” Eddie said, erasing one of the numbers. His pencil was a cheap one, and only managed to make a huge smudge on his paper rather than clear his answer. You handed over your own pencil on instinct and he took it with a thanks. 

“Do you play an instrument or something?” you asked, already checked out of the worksheet. Fuck it. It’s not like it was going to count for much anyway. 

“Yeah I, uh, I’ve been playing guitar since I was a kid.” There was a light in his eyes that made you wonder why anyone would ever think he was dangerous or scary. In the half hour that the two of you had been struggling with this busy work the two of you had been making small talk that you’d found way more engaging. 

“Electric or guitar?” you asked, and it was when Eddie let out a laugh that you realized what you had asked. You pressed your hands to your face with an embarrassed chuckle. “I didn’t sleep last night.” 

“I play electric and guitar.” came the teasing response. “But I lean more towards electric unless my uncle is home or I need to keep it down.”

“Are you any good?” 

“Good enough to have a steady gig at the Hideout.” he shrugged. “It’s not much, but it’s a stage. Sort of.” 

Eddie had also given up on the worksheet and was using your pencil to absently doodle in the margins of the paper. 

“I have no idea where that is.” 

“Shady dive bar in the warehouse district. My band and I play on Tuesdays, you should come see us sometime. It’s a shithole, but it’s safe.” The last part was added hastily as he saw your weary expression. 

A shady dive bar on a school night? Not a great chance of that. 

“What’s your band called?” 

“Corroded Coffin.” he dug around his pockets in his jeans and jacket before he pulled out a bent cut out piece of flashcard and handed it to you. It had the band’s name scribbled on it in sharpie and a list of socials on the back. It screamed home made and there was a charm to it that made you smile. 

“I’ll check you out.” you said, tucking it into the book you had been reading for the past week knowing damn well that you were probably going to forget about it the second it was out of sight. 

“Don’t worry about the worksheet being perfect.” the teacher piped up from their desk. “Just do your best, and it’s only being counted as pass/fail. I’m just trying to see that you’re all able to use your critical thinking skills to look up information.”

“I’m about to use my critical thinking skills to bullshit the rest of the worksheet.” Eddie muttered and you laughed. 

You grabbed his worksheet and scribbled down a formula and some numbers and handed it back. “Long as there’s something written down she doesn’t care.” 

That was good enough for the both of you as you set the papers aside. There was still a good fifteen minutes left in class, and you expected that the two of you would just sit awkwardly in your grouped desk facing each other until the bell rang. You almost laid your head down on the desk and try and get a power nap in, but curiosity was getting the better of you. 

“So, you wanna do music for a living?” you asked, looking at him again. 

“Ideally.” Eddie said, fidgeting with your pencil still. You decided that it was his pencil now, you had others in your bag. “I know it’s a long shot and most of my band is still gonna be in school when I graduate this year but we’ve got a few songs that we’ve been working on.”

“So you’re gonna be famous one day?” It wasn’t a sarcastic question, but a genuine one. Maybe this guy could be famous one day, you didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t even want to be famous. 

Eddie shook his head and laughed. “I’ll be lucky to keep the lights on with my music, but I’m gonna try.”

“You’re going to be famous.” you told him with a firm nod. The lack of sleep was catching up to you. It’s not like anything in this class was going to matter in the future anyway. “I’ve decided it.”

“You decided that I’m going to be famous?” he asked slowly, as if trying to decide if you were fucking with him or not. 

“Yeah, why not?” You replied. 

He stared at you and his gaze turned intense as he sat up straighter. Eddie’s gaze swept over your face, looking for any sign that you were speaking with ill intent, when he found none, he gave you a smile. 

“I’ll hold you to it then.” he said. “If I don’t get famous I’m holding you personally responsible.” 

“Alright, but there’s a catch.” your smile widened. 

“A catch? You won’t let me get famous on my charm and talent alone?” He tilted his head with a grin. 

“Nope. I need payment. Deciding things isn’t cheap, you know.” you were delusional from lack of sleep, and you probably sounded crazy to him.

“Alright, what’s your fee?” Eddie leaned back in his chair, looking as if he were trying to start a business deal. His demeanor change starkly contrasted the long dark hair, band t shirt, and heavy metal rings he wore and you had to stop yourself from laughing. 

You thought about it for a moment. “I want to be your plus one to at least one of your red carpet events.” you said. “I think that’s payment enough.”

He rubbed his chin in thought, as if carefully considering your offer. “And if I don’t.”

“If you forget to come back for Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.” you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing now at how ridiculous you sounded. 

“Holes? Really?” Eddie snorted. “Alright, I know how that story ends. You have a deal.” 

He offered you his hand and you two shook on it. 

And because you two had at least ten minutes to kill, Eddie took out a beat up notebook and started drawing up a contract to make it official. The two of you debated on the wording, and how it should be drawn out. In the end, it was decided that Eddie would have at least five years after his first red carpet to invite you to an event (your idea) or else he’d be cursed and he’d end up on TMZ in a scandal involving a goat and a runaway parade float (his idea).

You each signed the fake contract, dated it, and had the teacher notarize it. 

“Did you two even try to do the worksheet?” they asked, signing and stamping the notebook with a ‘GOOD JOB!’ stamp.

“We tried.” Eddie smiled at the teacher, taking the notebook back and trading it for the worksheets.

The bell rang and you two shook hands one last time. The last few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of spring break, prom season, and graduation. You barely talked to Eddie after that class, occasionally saying hi to him in the hallway, or the odd small chat during class. You’d managed to get him to sign your yearbook, but he hadn’t asked you to sign his. You felt a little sad about it, looking back. He’d been nice to talk to, and his reputation hadn’t lived up to that hour that you’d been forced to spend with him. 

Graduation was the last time you’d seen him, when he’d run across the stage, flipped off Principal Higgins and ran off like a bat out of hell. You had looked for him passively in the chaos and sea of graduates and their families taking photos and congratulating each other. Okay, maybe you’d looked for him a bit more deliberately than you’d let on. 

Maybe you had developed a small crush on Eddie in that hour that you’d spent working on that stupid worksheet. Maybe you had hoped that when you gave him your email in that contract he’d reach out to you to say hi. Maybe, yes, you did eventually remember the handmade business card for Corroded Coffin and had looked up their information a month into summer to find them as dead and dry as the Sahara desert, with only a muffled .mp3 of one of their songs to go off of. 

There were a lot of maybe’s that came with being in high school. 

But life moves on. You forget about the man with the long dark hair and boyish smile. Your yearbook gets tucked away in a box, out of site and out of mind. The homemade business card gets lost under the bed and eventually tossed in a deep clean as you get ready to move to college and move out. The muffled .mp3 sits in your computer for years until you get a smartphone and stuff a ton of your old music on it, shuffling it into your streaming playlists. 

The song gets skipped over more often than you’d ever admit. 

And now there you were in your new apartment a year after graduating college, living on your own for the first time. No dorm, no family, no roommates, no partner. 

It was the middle of your work week, and you were outside checking the mail. You flipped through the envelopes of junk and bills for anything that would have been worth the walk from your apartment to the community mailbox. 

A thick envelope with your name and address was in the middle of the pile. Your name was hand lettered in fancy script and you glanced at where the return address should be. 

WR RECORDS 

Who?

You pulled the envelope out and glanced at the rest of the mail to make sure there was nothing important there before tossing it into your neighbors recycling bin. You ripped open the envelope. 

Inside was a thick black card, and your name was once again written in beautiful red ink that reflected off the dark card stock. 

WR Records would like to invite you to be the +1 to Mr. Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin to this year's annual Hellfire Awards.

And below that in chicken scratch handwriting that wildly contrasted the careful lettering of the rest of the card: 

A deal’s a deal.

You stared at the words and read them over and over and over again, trying to make sense of them and only one question passed your mind. 

“Who the fuck is Eddie Munson?” 

---

Please comment and reblog <3

Tag List: @hellfiredarling @crocwork-clockodile @hitoshislut @kurdtbean @kennedy-brooke @daisyridleyyyy

[eirianerisdar]

Hiiiii I’ve only just seen it but if youre still doing the directors commentary thing I was gonna ask about Icarus? :) and the ⭐️ for whatever part you choose

(and just wanted to say your writing is so beautiful, I’m loving reading it so much thank you for sharing <3)

Oh ye I'm going to go on an absolute rant about Brocedes

An excerpt from chapter 30 of Icarus, when Lewis has just strained his newly regrown wings on a highly unadvised first flight after having grown out his primaries again for the first time in sixteen years, and runs into Nico by chance on an old clifftop haunt of theirs above Monaco. It's purely mutual pining in that uniquely Brocedes way

For the uninitiated, Icarus is an F1 wingfic that covers most of the grid, with the theme of wing trimming as a representation of unhealthy practices in motorsport forced upon drivers.

=====

A shape appears out of the rising sun, brown-white sparrowhawk feathers silhouetted against the dawn.

Unlike Lewis’s haphazard landing a minute earlier, Nico’s is elegant and precise; he comes out of his dive twisting in a perfect diagonal to the clifftop, one wingtip brushing the ground and the other pointed towards the sun, and lands on silent feet. He is wearing a tailored flight-suit that fits him as well as his race suit used to; the small backpack slotted between his wings has a molded plastic shell for better aerodynamics.

Nico folds his wings, and stares.

“Lewis?” he says, shocked. “What are you doing here?”

Lewis is suddenly all-too aware of the dirt ground into his skin, smeared over his t-shirt and ratty running sweats. His wings are caked with sand and grime from his less-than perfect landings; his palms are smarting with a dozen shallow cuts from hauling himself back up onto the clifftop.

He finds his voice. “What are you doing here?”

It comes out more accusing than Lewis intended. Nico’s face closes; his sparrowhawk wings flatten against his back.

“I come here often,” he says. “I fly up here every morning.”

Lewis doesn’t miss the implication that he is the intruder here, not Nico.

Lewis doesn’t know why that hurts so much. Maybe because he shouldn’t feel so out of place here, in this little sanctuary tucked against the Monaco cliffs where he and Nico had watched the sun rise and set so many times.

Nico ventures closer. His eyes are on Lewis’s wings. “You really did it,” he says oddly. “You grew out your wings.”

Lewis sets his jaw, raises his chin. “Yeah,” he says challengingly. “What about it?”

Nico flinches and looks away. His chest rises and falls faster than usual.

It would seem that even after all this time, Lewis still knows how to get a rise out of Nico. Lewis should feel vindicated, but he doesn’t. Something about the way Nico is holding his wings makes Lewis feel sick.

Nico crosses over to a flat-topped rock a careful distance away and sits. The two of them face the sunrise like they have done so many times years ago. The wind that ruffles both their feathers brings with it the scent of the sea.

Lewis closes his eyes. The sun sears his skin, turns the backs of his eyelids orange-yellow. There is so much he wants to say, but he doesn’t know where to begin. He could start at Abu Dhabi, at that awful Sky interview. He could go back to 2021, when he had finally admitted to himself and to the press that he could have been a better teammate to Nico.

He could go back to Barcelona 2016; the ache in his shabby wings in the garage, and the brief moment of blessed, cool relief when Nico had brushed a hand through Lewis’s wing.

It was the last time either of them had touched each other’s wings. Their crash and DNF at Barcelona had snapped the last threads that held them together as flock.

Lewis waits for Nico to say something, but Nico stays silent. It stings.

Lewis sneaks a glance at his former flock, finds Nico already looking at him – not at his dirt-smeared face or messy braids, but at his wing plumes, pooled carelessly in the dust at the base of the rock he is seated on.

In the dawn light, Nico’s clean, well-brushed feathers are painted in peach and ochre. Lewis bristles, waits for Nico to make an unsavoury comment.

But Nico just clasps his hands together in his lap, tight enough that the knuckles go pale. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Your wing plumes are longer than I remember,” he says hoarsely.

Oh. Lewis looks down at them, at his draped double-cloak of gold, white, and maroon.

“Yeah,” he says. A gust of wind blows dirt over the end of one of his plumes; he nudges it carelessly with the toe of his trainer, but only succeeds in matting the feather ends with even more dirt.

Nico makes an abortive motion towards Lewis.

Lewis looks at him sharply, watches Nico fold his hands into fists on his knees. Nico’s face is pinched.

Lewis breathes through the bitterness. He knows he is intruding on Nico’s space by being here. It’s just that a part of him thought that he would still have a place here, where they had shared so many happy memories.

He can’t even leave; his wings still hurt too much to chance anything other than a glide.

Nico’s feathers rustle as he stands. “I’m going to head back,” he says quietly. “You coming?”

Lewis shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “I’m going to sit a while longer.”

The flight muscles of his right wing ache dully; he shakes it out carefully, fighting a wince.

Nico is suddenly standing within arm’s reach, blocking out the sun. “Your wing,” he says, frowning. “You’ve got flyer’s cramp.”

“It’ll pass,” Lewis snaps, folding his wing back against his spine even though that makes it hurt worse. “I’ve got it handled.”

“You shouldn’t fly back alone,” Nico says seriously. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll even let you get there first.”

Lewis tenses at the implication. He hates competition not treating him seriously – Nico most of all.

“I’m fine,” he says testily. “It’s just the thermals. I rode them up, I’ll find a way between them to glide back down again. I’ll manage.”

“The thermals?” Nico frowns over his shoulder at the dizzying drop down towards the sea. “Where did you fly here from?”

Lewis works his jaw. “The beach,” he says.

Nico turns on him instantly. “The beach?” he exclaims. “Are you fucking – you can’t have unsheathed your feathers more than a few days ago!”

Lewis doesn’t reply, but Nico reads him anyway.

“Oh my God,” Nico stares. “It hasn’t even been a few days, has it? This is your first fucking flight.”

Lewis jerks his chin. “What about it?”

Nico puts his face in his hands. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you insane? Who flies up a cliff for their first flight in sixteen years? Do you want to die?”

Lewis hates to admit it, but laying it out like that puts it into perspective. He isn’t usually one to take such risks. He let his hunger for freedom override his common sense.

“That’s it,” Nico says. He jerks his head towards the cliff edge. “I’m making sure you get back without killing yourself. Let’s go.”

Lewis looks at the edge of the cliff. The wind has picked up even more now that the sun has fully risen; bits of rock and dirt swirl in the wind to tumble off the lip.

He doesn’t want to name the feeling that roots him in place.

Lewis Hamilton has never been one to admit fear.

Nico strides over to the cliff edge, draws a sharp line in the dirt with the toe of his flight boot. “Come on,” he snaps. “I’m not leaving unless you’re with me.”

Something about that phrase twists Lewis’s stomach, uncovers a bitter wound.

Because Nico had left. He’d left Lewis to race on alone.

“What is it?” Nico says. “Is your wing still cramping?”

Lewis shifts his wings. “No.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Lewis opens his mouth, closes it again. Looks away.

If there’s anything he hates most in the world, it’s looking weak in front of Nico Rosberg.

“I don’t think I can make it,” he admits.

Nico stills. “What?”

Lewis breathes a bitter laugh. “I know what it sounds like,” he says, looking down at his dirt-splattered wing plumes. “But I’m gonna be honest with you, man. I don’t think I can make it.”

Nico doesn’t respond. He looks like a statue stood on the cliff edge, his golden hair a halo around his head, his wings of carven marble.

Lewis runs his scraped palms together. “I don’t know the thermals,” he says, swallowing the shame. “They’re so different from what I remember. I keep getting pushed higher. My flight muscles aren’t strong enough to fight my way out if I get caught in one.” He gestures at himself, at the dirt ground into his wings, his clothes. “I barely made it out of the clouds and back here.”

Silence, save for the cry of gulls in the harbour below and the whistling wind.

Flight boots stomp against dirt and rock as Nico stalks over, grabs Lewis by the collar, and shakes him, hard.

Lewis’s hands come up automatically, but Nico has already let go. Lewis watches as Nico turns in a flare of sparrowhawk feathers to pace the dirt of the clifftop.

Nico snaps to a halt, glares down at Lewis. “I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing,” he hisses. “You’re not some damsel in distress. You’re Lewis fucking Hamilton.”

Lewis stares up at Nico’s furious face. This isn’t what he expected at all.

“Lewis Hamilton doesn’t back down from a fight,” Nico snarls. “What the fuck happened to you? You always said you could do anything as long as you pushed hard enough. So get up. Push.”

Lewis bristles. “Easy for you to say,” he spits. “You’ve had six years to learn the air patterns and train up your wings. Don’t pretend we’re on equal footing.”

Nico’s face whitens. For a moment Lewis thinks Nico will punch him; but Nico only exhales and looks over his shoulder at the cliff edge.

“It’s not as complicated than it looks,” he says abruptly. “It’s just that new building down where the road splits, and that paved road cutting through the trees there. It breaks up the current that used to flow down from–”

“Thanks, Nico,” Lewis says sarcastically. “I’m sure that’ll be really helpful when I’m trying to navigate something I can’t see.”

“Just–” Nico closes his eyes briefly. His voice softens. “Just stay on my wing,” he says quietly. “I’ll guide you down.”

Lewis looks at the cliff edge. He swallows.

Nico’s eyes are a clear, intense blue. “I won’t leave you,” he says. “I promise.”

Like that fucking meant anything the last time you said it, Lewis thinks. Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because Nico’s eyes shutter.

Lewis grits his teeth. He feels like an arse.

He feels the wind run through his still-aching wings. “What if I fall?”

Nico’s face hardens. He looks for a moment like he did when he met Lewis’s eyes across the garage as they got into their cars in Abu Dhabi 2016. It is a look that says try me, and I will prove you wrong.

“Then I’ll fucking catch you,” he spits.

The promise settles in Lewis’s bones.

Nico’s anger and determination is something Lewis knows too well. This, he can trust.

Nico’s straightens. The sun suffuses his hair, outlines his wings with gold. He holds out a hand to Lewis.

“Come on,” he says. “We’ve got this. Clear air all the way down.”

Lewis looks at Nico’s hand before him – the familiar grooves of his palm, the finger-webs turned pink in the sun. The hand that Lewis had once thought nothing of holding in his own.

He reaches up, and takes it.

======

Director's Cut:

I had this scene planned very early; I held on to it for a solid four months before the plot progressed to the point that this happened. The thing I most wanted to get across in this scene, the first proper scene where Lewis and Nico are properly speaking face-to-face instead of just pining, is just how much they both care about each other even if it all comes out toxic.

The way I planned this conversation is that every single thing that comes out of Nico and Lewis's mouths is misinterpreted as hostile. Even body language is misinterpreted.

A few examples:

1. When Nico says, “I come here often. I fly up here every morning," he means I often return here, to this place of good memories with you, because I miss you.

Lewis takes this to mean that Nico thinks that Lewis is in his space, and that Lewis doesn't have a right to this shared space they used to have as teenagers.

2. Nico ventures closer. His eyes are on Lewis’s wings. “You really did it,” he says oddly. “You grew out your wings.”

Lewis sets his jaw, raises his chin. “Yeah,” he says challengingly. “What about it?”

Nico flinches and looks away. His chest rises and falls faster than usual.

It would seem that even after all this time, Lewis still knows how to get a rise out of Nico. Lewis should feel vindicated, but he doesn’t. Something about the way Nico is holding his wings makes Lewis feel sick.

Nico's trying to find some common ground here. He never thought Lewis would give up speed to regrow his wings. Nico had been harbouring hope that maybe they'd be able to heal if both of them weren't dead-focused on racing anymore; but Lewis is so used to Nico using everything as an insult he takes it badly.

But he still cares about Nico enough that he can tell when he's gone too far. Nico at this point in the story has gone through a full wing crisis because of Lewis, and Lewis isn't aware of it.

3. But Nico just clasps his hands together in his lap, tight enough that the knuckles go pale. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Your wing plumes are longer than I remember,” he says hoarsely.

Oh. Lewis looks down at them, at his draped double-cloak of gold, white, and maroon.

“Yeah,” he says. A gust of wind blows dirt over the end of one of his plumes; he nudges it carelessly with the toe of his trainer, but only succeeds in matting the feather ends with even more dirt.

Nico makes an abortive motion towards Lewis.Lewis looks at him sharply, watches Nico fold his hands into fists on his knees. Nico’s face is pinched.

Lewis isn't used to having full-grown bird-of-paradise plumes. He nudges them with his foot because to him they're just his feathers; he'll go and clean them later. for Nico, he's positively screaming to preen Lewis's wings. He's sitting there going insane with yearning while Lewis mats his feathers in dirt.

4. Nico turns on him instantly. “The beach?” he exclaims. “Are you fucking – you can’t have unsheathed your feathers more than a few days ago!”

When Nico finds out Lewis has got flyer's cramp and that Lewis isn't sure if he can make it back home without falling, he defaults to anger. He's actually furious because he's terrified that Lewis could have fallen to his death, but Nico, like Lewis, defaults to anger to mask his fear. Lewis does the same.

5. Flight boots stomp against dirt and rock as Nico stalks over, grabs Lewis by the collar, and shakes him, hard.

Lewis’s hands come up automatically, but Nico has already let go. Lewis watches as Nico turns in a flare of sparrowhawk feathers to pace the dirt of the clifftop.

Nico snaps to a halt, glares down at Lewis. “I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing,” he hisses. “You’re not some damsel in distress. You’re Lewis fucking Hamilton.”

Lewis stares up at Nico’s furious face. This isn’t what he expected at all.

“Lewis Hamilton doesn’t back down from a fight,” Nico snarls. “What the fuck happened to you? You always said you could do anything as long as you pushed hard enough. So get up. Push.”

This is something integral to Nico Rosberg: he has absolute faith that Lewis Hamilton will back down for nothing. That no matter what the world throws at him, Lewis Hamilton will push. All Nico's anxiety about Lewis still hating him or overstepping and snapping this fragile connection that's forming evaporates because this is Lewis fucking Hamilton who Nico knows through and through and Nico will die before he lets Lewis be anyone other than himself.

6. He feels the wind run through his still-aching wings. “What if I fall?”

Nico’s face hardens. He looks for a moment like he did when he met Lewis’s eyes across the garage as they got into their cars in Abu Dhabi 2016. It is a look that says try me, and I will prove you wrong.

“Then I’ll fucking catch you,” he spits.

The promise settles in Lewis’s bones.

Nico’s anger and determination is something Lewis knows too well. This, he can trust.

This is Nico saying I'm with you until the end of the line. It's a declaration of if you fall I will fall with you. Lewis doesn't fully get the emotion behind it yet - there's still too much ingrained hurt there - but he can see Nico's anger and determination. The same anger and determination that allowed Nico to beat him in 2016. This, he can trust.

7. Nico straightens. The sun suffuses his hair, outlines his wings with gold. He holds out a hand to Lewis.

“Come on,” he says. “We’ve got this. Clear air all the way down.”

Lewis looks at Nico’s hand before him – the familiar grooves of his palm, the finger-webs turned pink in the sun. The hand that Lewis had once thought nothing of holding in his own.

He reaches up, and takes it.

I swear I had this section planned out almost word-for-word for four months. The image of Nico with his blond hair and sparrowhawk wings offering a hand to Lewis, offering to parlay, offering to help. It's the first time neither of them have been fully alone. It's the first moment that shows there might be a possibility of healing.

Clear air. Flying in formation, like they used to drive in formation on victory laps. Nico is Lewis's guide back to flight and freedom. They'll push each other higher, like they did when they raced each other.

Lewis lets go of his hurt and bitterness for the first time this whole conversation. He lets himself trust again. He reaches up and takes Nico's hand.

I wanted above all to show how toxic and hurt their dynamic was, but how enmeshed it was - how if both of them decided to take a little step forwards, healing was possible.

It's just the first little step towards the healing we've been seeing in the rest of the fic.

You can read more Icarus here.

Send me an ask with a scene or set of lines from any of my fics and I'll give you a director's commentary! Or, send in a ⭐star⭐ to have me select a section I've been dying to talk about!

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 3: HOLLY, JOLLY

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: This was not how I expected this part to turn out. You know those moments when you just keep typing and writing? Anyways, introducing Ronnie. In reading Flight of Icarus, I pictured her character looking like Emmy Rossum, more so Fiona Gallagher-esque. Ronnie is Eddie's wingwoman.

Have you ever been with a boy and just don't think? Like you're so present in the moment with them, you don't know what you're doing or what's happening in the world around you? That's how Diana feels around Eddie.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3124

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III

HAKWINS HIGH

I sit in my usual spot for first period, my books and stationery are set neatly on my desk as I wait for class to start. People begin to trickle in but there is no sign of Barb or Nancy. I didn’t wait for either of them outside the school or by our lockers like I usually do, instead I walk straight into school, straight to my locker to switch out my textbooks and straight to class. Despite being upset about what happened last night, I can’t help but glance at the door every time someone enters the classroom just in case it is Barb or Nancy. I chew my lip, tapping my pencil against my notebook. Class starts in two minutes and neither Nancy or Barb are in class. Part of me wonders if they both decided not to show up to school today. It’s not until Nancy rushes into class with flushed cheeks, I relax only a little. I avoid eye contact as she sits in her usual spot across from me. I can feel her looking at me but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, I hear her talk to Ally beside me. 

“Hey, Ally. Where’s Barb?” 

“Um shouldn’t you know?” 

“You haven’t seen her anywhere at all?” Nancy presses. 

I purse my lips. Why would Nancy ask that if Barb waited for her while she was upstairs with Steve? I turn my head slightly not trying to be too noticeable, but I’m not inconspicuous at all because I catch Nancy’s gaze for a second. Her lips twist into a perplexed frown as she looks at the empty seat beside her. I sit forward swallowing and glance at the door hoping Barb will walk in at any second, but as soon as Mr. Flaim enters the classroom and instructs us to take out Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, I focus on the lesson.  

Nancy and I don’t have the same second period so I haven’t seen her since homeroom. Everyone is rushing to the cafeteria as usual; I pass by and from the hallway I have a clear view of Steve, Tommy H, and Carol. Steve wrinkles his nose at Carol who has her foot on the table. Tommy H is laughing, chewing with his mouth full of whatever food they are serving at the cafeteria today. I am surprised to see Nancy join them at the table. A knot of dismay forms in every muscle, it seems as I observe my best friend. She doesn’t look around for me or Barb, slipping comfortably beside Steve who smiles welcoming at her. I clutch my bag closer to my body and walk away ignoring the hollowness I feel inside. 

As I walk down the hall, I slow down approaching Barb’s locker. It doesn’t look like it’s been touched at all today. I also haven’t seen her at all this morning. I linger, rubbing my lips together. It’s unlike Barb to not turn up to school unless she was sick and last night was cold and with everything that happened with her finger…I rationalize but there is still an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. I look at Barb’s locker one last time before walking away.

I approach my locker and put in my combination to open it. I rise on relevé to see deep into my locker and pull out my chemistry textbook and my lunch. I shove my lunch in my bag and hold the textbook in my hand. When I close my locker, I notice a head full of hair. Eddie and Ronnie stand by the lockers in the sophomore hallway, talking amongst themselves. Eddie’s back is to me, but I can see the same dark brown curly hair of Ronnie. I think Ronnie is pretty in a rocker girl type of way. She exudes a carefree, nonchalance that deep down I envy, in her black leather jacket and hoodie. I am wound up so tight it’s difficult for me to relax sometimes. 

I am surprised when she catches my eye and smiles, waving at me as she did two days ago in the school parking lot. Eddie turns around with a frown on his face wondering who she was waving at and catches my gaze. The lines on his forehead smoothens and is replaced with a look I can’t explain. I can never explain the looks Eddie gives me, only the feeling that it conveys in me. Butterflies. It’s like they wake up all of a sudden and I feel warm and tingly. Ronnie says something and grins walking past him. The look on Eddie’s face is replaced with horror. The butterflies in my stomach turn into moths fluttering wildly.

It takes me a split second to realize Ronnie is walking towards me. My mind screams at my legs to move, to at least meet her halfway, but they don’t and I am standing here like I’ve been caught. Which technically I was. Eddie quickly scurries behind her, curly hair flapping behind him. Ronnie of course reaches me before him. 

“Hi, I’m Ronnie,” she greets with a smile. Eddie stands beside her, looking out of breath despite the short distance. 

The way I have to tilt my head look at her is a little embarrassing. She’s even taller up close. Dark brown eyes look down at me. Not in a dominant way where I feel threatened. Though her height is intimidating. But in a way that shows me she’s interested. Interested in me. I blink feeling my brain short-circuit for a moment and pan down. Her hand is extended. Waiting. I take her hand, shaking it. Her hand is warm. Mine feel clammy and I want the ground to swallow me up. 

“H-Hi,” I stutter. “I’m Diana.” 

“I know,” she says and her smile widens. Ronnie doesn’t look at Eddie when she says this. It’s like he doesn’t exist. I have to fight not to acknowledge his presence. We let go of each other’s hand and I clutch my book close to my chest. “Eddie’s told me about you.”

“Jesus.” He mutters, looking away.

My eyebrows shoot up in astonishment. “Really?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Oh.” I don’t know what to think or feel or say. The back of my neck feels hot. 

“And any close friend of Eddie’s is a friend of mines.” 

I blink. Not understanding what she means. Maybe I missed something because Eddie and I are not close friends. It makes me wonder what he has told her. I look at Eddie now and he seems like he’s a second away from bolting out the door. He’s fidgety and a little sweaty. 

“Sorry,” he says to me. “She was dropped on her head as a baby.”  

Ronnie flicks him on the nose and Eddie reaches to grab her wrist, but she’s too fast, taking a step back, putting her hands behind her back. She laughs at him and he sticks his tongue out at her. I giggle quietly, enjoying their antics. They truly did seem to have a brother/sister relationship. It reminded me of my relationship with Lucas. 

“I forgot something in my locker.” Ronnie says, eyes darting between Eddie and I. “I’ll see you in class, right?” She’s talking to Eddie now. 

“Of course, wouldn’t want to miss chemistry for the world.” 

Ronnie gives him a warning look, but smiles kindly at me. She waves again and walks away leaving Eddie and I alone. When Ronnie turns the hall, Eddie turns to me, scratching around his mouth. He gives me an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, about that.” 

“Don’t be. Ronnie seems very nice.”

“When she wants to be,” he comments under his breath. Eddie looks at me again. “I’m guessing you didn’t get caught last night.” 

“No, I didn’t.” I shake my head. “Thank you so much again for driving me home. Really. I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.” 

“Just don’t walk home in the middle of the night. Please.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I’ll drive all over Hawkins looking for you if I have to.” I tilt my head at that, looking up at him. Eddie scrunches his nose, closing his eyes. “That sounded so much better in my head.” I giggle. Eddie chuckles softly, opening his eyes. His cheeks are slightly pink. “It’s just creepy when I say it out loud.”

I scrunch my nose. “A little,” I admit. “But I understand the sentiment.” 

Eddie doesn’t respond, eyes looking around him. I follow his gaze, wondering what he was looking at. He stands straight taking a step back. I don’t realize how close we were until he does. 

“Do you want to have lunch with me?” he asks, out of the blue. The question throws me in for a loop. Lunch with Eddie. I open my mouth, but close it. Something shifts in Eddie and he clears his throat. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You’re probably going to meet up with your friends in the cafeteria.” 

Friends. My best friend is sitting in the cafeteria with Steve, Tommy H and Carol. My other best friend isn’t in school today. I am alone. I think about my dream. The way I was screaming for help and no one bothered to look. I didn’t think about where I was going to eat lunch today, because usually it’s with Nancy and Barb, but now…I don’t have anyone. The change I feared would happen had already started. Maybe it’s time to stop resisting it. 

“Yes, I’ll have lunch with you.” 

Eddie’s jaw goes slack for a moment but he quickly closes his mouth and smiles, with dimples this time. “Okay, um…” he scratches the back of his neck. “My lunch is actually in the van, so.” 

“Okay,” I nod, pushing myself off my locker. Eddie follows my stride as we walk towards the door and out the school. 

The weather is surprisingly mild for the winter months. Eddie and I walk through the parking lot towards his large van. I can’t believe it’s been hours since I’ve sat inside. The past few days have been nothing but bizarre. 

“What I mean to say is,” Eddie says after a few minutes. I realize he’s correcting himself from earlier. “If you ever need a ride anywhere..." he doesn’t finish the sentence and I can tell he’s not going to. The sentiment is there and it shocks me. I’ve only known of Eddie for 24 hours and he’s already offering to give me a ride, so I’m not out late at night by myself again. 

I look up at him, but he’s looking at the ground. I turn my head back, looking in front of me. The moths, turn into butterflies. I bow my head down, fighting back a smile. We arrive at his van at the back of the parking lot and I walk to the passenger’s side opening the door just as Eddie opens the door to the driver’s side. I climb inside the car sitting in the passenger’s seat and close the door. When I look up, Eddie stares at me, paper bag in hand. It takes me a moment to realize, he never said he wanted to eat in his van. My hands fly to my mouth. 

“I am so sorry.” I gasp, opening the car door. I can’t believe I forgot my home training. Mom would freak out if she knew what I did. 

Eddie blinks out of his stupor shaking his head. “It’s okay,” he says, climbing into his car. He closes the door. “I wasn’t clear. We can eat in here, if you want. I don’t mind.” He sounds relieved. I close the passenger door cringing at my blunder. How did I not realize what I was doing? 

We sit in the car in silence neither of us moving or both of us waiting for the other to start. I’m suddenly hyperaware of his presence. Eddie and I look at each other and start to laugh. The awkwardness dissipates and we both get our paper bags. Turns out we both have sandwiches, mine is turkey and cheese, his, peanut butter and jelly. The silence is comfortable between us and I find myself enjoying it. The past two days have been a whirlwind of confusion, fear and change. It feels nice to just be with someone in silence without feeling the need to talk all the time or feel like I’m being judged for just existing. 

“I didn’t forget the song you recommended, by the way.” Eddie says, between chews. “I’ve added it to my list.”

“I haven’t forgotten yours either.”

Eddie crumbles the plastic bag in a ball dropping it in his paper bag. He pulls out a bag of pretzels. I smile, knowing I have pretzels in my bag as well. I take a bite out of my sandwich observing Eddie. His hair is less frizzy today and I wonder what changed in his hair routine. I gaze down at his clothes, like Ronnie, he’s wearing a black leather jacket and hoodie with jeans and black boots. I think about Ronnie and Eddie calling each other to coordinate their outfits of the day and smile. Eddie is careful opening the Ziplock, pulling out a handful of pretzels.

“If you ever want to go to Main Street Vinyl sometime,” He pops a pretzel in his mouth. “We can listen to music.” 

“You listen to vinyl?” 

Eddie finishes chewing nodding his head. “Always.” 

“My dad only listens to vinyl.” I say, opening my bottle of water. “Says records sound better.” 

“He’s right.” 

I shrug taking a sip of water. “It all sounds the same to me.” 

Eddie looks as if I insulted him. He shakes his head popping another couple of pretzels in his mouth. “Oh man,” he says, voice muffled. “I definitely need to take you to Main Street Vinyl.” 

“Okay.” 

I accept the invitation feigning nonchalance. I don’t look at him as I close my water bottle, setting it beside me and continue to eat my sandwich. My heart is actually beating so fast and I’m surprised I don’t miss my mouth while taking a bite. I can feel him looking at me and meet his gaze. He’s staring at me like he did back in school and when I practically jumped into his car like I owned it. Like he didn’t expect my answer. 

Eddie blinks. “Cool.” He says, his voice hoarse. Scarfing down salty pretzels can do that to a person. “Just um…let me know when you’re free and I can pick you up.” His shyness makes me shy as well. 

“O-okay.” I stutter, my confidence waning. 

Eddie clears his throat reaching for a water bottle in the drink compartment. He takes a long drink and I think he’s going to finish the whole bottle in one sitting, but he stops, putting on the lid. “I’ll introduce you to all the greats.” 

“Judas Priest, KISS, Metallica, Ozzy Osbourne.” I list the names of the people he covers with his band. 

Eddie smiles. “And more.” 

I arch my brow. “Like who?” 

He turns to me and squints playfully, leaning close. “It’s a secret.”  He says lowly. I giggle.   

“Why does vinyl sound better?” I ask. My Dad says it does too, but I never understood what he meant. 

Eddie thinks for a moment. “It sounds…warm,” he starts, looking out the windshield. “That’s the best word to describe it.” He looks at me again. “It’s rich and deep. You feel like you’re watching the artists perform live. Like you’re in the same room as them. It’ll make sense when we go to the record store.”

“You seem to know a lot about music.” 

“Not as much as you think.” 

“It’s more than I know.” I add. I play with the plastic bag in my lap. “I like listening to you talk about music. Your connection to it is…sweet. I can tell you really love it.” 

“Sweet?” 

“Endearing.” I correct. And cute. But I’ll never say that out loud. 

Eddie’s cheeks are pink. So cute. He smiles and his dimples poke out. Really cute. “Thank you.” He chuckles. I beam. 

Eddie leans back against the door, fully facing me. He looks up and down and size to side at my face like he did last night. It’s intense and I thank heavens my brown skin hides the flush in my cheeks. He tilts his head, studying me. 

“So, Candy Girl,” He teases. “Tell me about something you love. Tell me about dance.” 

I’m vibrating. Not the kind you feel when you’ve been sitting down too long. The type you feel when you’re excited and slightly overwhelmed. I have only felt this way before a performance. My time with Eddie though brief, hasn’t felt that way. I’m a shy person; a person of few words when I’m getting to know someone. My true self saved for my family and best friends, but with Eddie I talk. I want to talk. I talk a lot, about dance. The Nutcracker auditions, Mei Wong, rehearsals. I felt myself stepping outside my shell. It’s weird and slightly off-putting. Eddie listens, asking questions if he doesn’t understand. He even tells me what he’s thinking. The conversation flows effortlessly. With everything that has been happening, I’m glad Eddie is around, even if it’s just for a moment. 

“Diana!” 

I blink out of my thoughts and turn my head. Nancy is rushing towards me and I am no longer vibrating. Just my normal self. I feel myself stepping back into my shell and it’s discomforting to feel this way about my best friend. 

“Diana, have you seen Barb?” Nancy asks me outside. 

It’s the first time Nancy and I speak since last night. During English I was too busy highlighting and making notes to talk. I shake my head, holding my chemistry textbook close to my chest.  

“Not since last night.” 

“Didn’t Barb drive you home last night?” 

“No, Barb decided to stay.” I walked home.  

“She stayed?” 

Nancy’s surprise causes me to look at her fully for the first time today. I glare at her. “Yes, to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid.” 

“I didn’t see her when I left.” 

“What? What do you mean?” 

Nancy shakes her head. “I didn’t see her.” 

Something unsettling swarms in my stomach but I push it down, shrugging my shoulders. “Maybe…she’s home sick. It was cold last night.” 

“Yeah…” Nancy says, but she doesn’t sound too convinced.

The silence between us is awkward. The remnants of last night weighing heavy. I start to walk away hoping to walk to class before the lunch crowd tumbles in and I am caught in a storm of elbows and backpacks. 

NEXT -> PART III