#lax jock

[alphafootballjock67]

[an-obstinate-plethora]

@laxbr0

[athleticsupporter]

 hiding under them white shorts, framed by his jock leg straps, is a hairy rosebud just ready to opened up.

[meatmensch]

The people that have abandoned me really need to stop talking to me like they have any right to tell me what to do, or I swear to God, I'm gonna get the FUCKING hammer.

[urhoneycombwitch]

#17 from that prompt list about seeing the marks left on their partner and getting turned on has got me all kinds of 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 It feels roommate-eddie coded 👀 especially if they have their no-marks rule, but he just kinda loses control one night.

Then we torture him, walking around showing it off, telling him he can’t touch until he learns some self-control…okay, I’m gonna see myself out…

(most assuredly not @rebelfell sending two asks in a row)

foreword: Sarah I’m being so fr how are you literally in my brain… I had a blurb on this very topic set on the back burner bc I couldn’t find a place for it so here it is spruced up!!! (prompt 17 from this list)

cw: Reader has breasts, visible marks, no skin tone/color mentioned, a wee bit of choking kink, not full smut but mdni as always. oh yeah and biting 😈

___

You can feel the weight of Eddie’s eyes on your form, even as you pretend to be oblivious, leaning into the reflection of the standing mirror in the corner of his bedroom.

A few swipes of your pointer finger and your lipgloss is perfect; with a smack of your lips, you straighten up again, tugging the hem of your tee down to meet the band of your jeans. “Almost ready?”

The friendly smile you turn to give Eddie is met with a glower, his dark brows slanted, a death-grip on both knees where he sits simmering on his bed.

“Did you come in here solely to torture me, or do you have other plans up your vixen sleeves?”

Briefly, your eyes flick to the ceiling as you turn back to your reflection, fussing with your hair to keep your hands busy. “Only plan I got is attending our beloved friend’s barbecue. Which we should’ve left for, like, five minutes ago.”

Eddie huffs. In response, you sigh, landing just-left of condescending. “Not my fault you want to fuck me regardless of what I’m wearing. It’s jeans and a t-shirt, Eddie, I’m basically fit for a nunnery-”

There’s a whoosh of spiced air that wafts over first, chills cascading down your spine made worse as Eddie moves in. His left hand lands on your hip, rooting you to the carpet, while the other tracks up, skirting between the valley of your clothed breasts, your collarbone, your neck…

He takes your chin between thumb and forefinger, silver rings biting cold against your skin as your neck goes lax, baring a long, tantalizing stretch of it as Eddie tilts your face up and to the side.

His lips press to the sweet spot behind your ear, then follows the slope of your neck down, stopping at your shirt’s collar that hides the rest of your skin. From your hip, his hand lifts to pull the fabric aside, revealing a scattered canvas of suck marks and teeth imprints that grace the top of your shoulder.

“You really gonna show up with these? Make all our friends wonder who’s been marking you up?”

Eddie’s voice is low, but you’d be a fool to mistake it for softness.

Another shiver licks along the length of your body, and this time Eddie feels it; he presses in closer, hand sliding from your chin to hold just under your jaw as he meets your fluttering eyes in the mirror.

“What’re you gonna say, hm? If Robin asks where they came from? If Steve makes a jock-y comment? If you get teased?”

It’s not like you haven’t been in this situation before- attending events with mutual friends, having to act like your roommate hasn’t been the one checking all your boxes, making up excuses for being late or looking like someone had been using your body as their personal chew toy.

You’ve always made excuses- pretty seamless ones, if anyone’s counting. You don’t even try to squirm away when you respond, swallowing around the light pressure at your throat- “I’ll tell them what I always do. Blind date hookup, one night stand, my dentist’s cousin’s friend that I’ll never see again-”

Eddie bites into the soft flesh of your upper shoulder, hard, free arm wrapping around your midsection like a seatbelt while his other elbow digs into your chest, hand still wrapped around the column of your throat.

The air leaves your lungs in a rush, white-hot adrenaline surging with the sting of the bite, body stiffening against the restraints of Eddie’s arms as you grit out, “Asshole!”

It sounds too whiny and pleasure-soaked to cause any real alarm, Eddie grinning into the curve of your skin (bastard) before tsking, kissing over the thumping mark in partial apology. “Mm. I think you like it. I think you get off on parading our little secret around the poor folks who don’t know any better-”

“As if you don’t.” Eddie may be the one doing most of the biting but you’ve got the bark to match, glaring furiously at the reflection of his maddeningly-cool black-caramel gaze, even as the pressure on your windpipe increases with a minute flex of his palm.

“Yeah. Y’got me there, princess.” His eyes flit across your exposed skin, like he’s trying to memorize all the shades and colors of you combined with the wreckage of his handiwork. “Maybe you should cover up some more. So it’s just you ‘n me who knows what’s under here.”

The cotton collar snaps back into place, covering almost all the evidence (save for the tail end of a day-old scraped hickey). Eddie releases your jaw and takes a step back, the warmth leaving your body all at once, frozen where you stand until sense returns.

You clear your throat before speaking, irritation prickling as you set to fixing your hair again from where Eddie’s interruption had stalled. “Whatever. Fine. But I’m only changing because it’s gonna be cold later, and a long sleeve will be better- not because you told me to.”

“Fine.” Eddie adopts a neutral tone as he settles back onto the mattress with a bounce, tugging absently at the inseam of his dark jeans to relieve some of the mounting tightness. “Have it your way.”

“I will,” you snap back, turning from the mirror on a socked heel, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy on the bed. “And you better have your boots on by the time I’m changed.”

With that, you flounce from Eddie’s room in search of a more conservative neckline, while Eddie pouts and pretends to have the will to disobey you for all of five seconds.

And then he’s up, trudging to the bureau reluctantly to source a pair of socks while scheming for the perfect excuse to take you both on the extra-long route to the barbecue.

[societyoftheblindeye]

I feel like the way fidds and Stan are presented is so interesting like the masculinity they both give feels soooo very intentional and very modeled off of such specific ideals outside of their upbringings. They both come from areas that one would assume to be kind of hypermasculine in very specific ways like for instance a hog farm in rural Tennessee and very clean pressed neighborhood near the Jersey shore but they both kind of find themselves gravitating towards a more lax and artistic kind of vibe, specifically disco. And they still incorporate textures and patterns and staple pieces from the men of their upbringing into it while also branching out towards more flamboyant personas. Like, this is smth I wrote for a fiddlestan diddy a while back:

Stan was masculine in a way that Fiddleford wasn't used to. He was so used to masculinity being used as a shield. Something to hide behind; something rigid and and unchanging. A strict expectation that was the same from man to man, leaving little room for Fiddleford's silk shirts and flared jeans and shaggy hair. But Stanley's masculinity, in his tank top with his mullet and his curiosity, came off as more inviting. More fluid. It felt like a tide that kept flicking up around Fiddleford's ankles, and the looseness made his knees feel weak. Fiddleford licked his lips at the realization of how well they complimented each other.

Like they both have smth abt them that is so obviously “out of place” to a lot of potential random onlookers but is integral to how they feel abt themselves bc this is how they’re choosing to present themselves to the world ESPECIALLY Stan bc he lives so much of his life as a character rather than just as himself bc that’s the only way he feels he can survive bc being himself has hurt him so much in his life. But even when Fiddleford DOES achieve what the normal expectations for a man would be - a wife and a child and a home and a chance to own his own business - he still throws it all away for the chance to be close to ford. Who I think at this point is safe to call a canonically queer character. So there is smth in him that is very willing to forego all the traditional masculinity he’s managed to maintain for the chance to be close to someone who might understand why he feels TRAPPED by that traditional masculinity

“Oh but it was the 70’s, disco was popular, it was fine to dress like that” just… as someone who also grew up in Appalachia with family who were in their 20’s and 30’s in the 1970’s who still would have ridiculed or even threatened anyone who dressed like this… not always. Just because styles are popular in music or television doesn’t mean that they would be acceptable to someone’s upbringing or their peers, and I just know from growing up in the same kind of environment as Fiddleford that it would be likely and realistic that he rly was only able to dress like this BECAUSE of the distance he had put between himself and his family. And the reason I brought up disco specifically being a big source of inspiration for both of their fashion senses, in relation to them both having a kind of queer sense of masculinity, was bc disco was heavily influenced by ppl who were facing social persecution at the time (feminists and gay men and black ppl) and the genre was in itself a sense of community and social liberation. And even when it was at the height of its popularity disco was attacked and forced out of fashion by racist, misogynistic, and homophobic rock n roll fans in what ultimately became a riot led by a popular macho manliness preaching shock jock named Steve Dahl who started the “disco sucks” movement. So like… disco DID have its time in the spotlight, but it WAS still a source of sexual freedom in a time when that was very much not okay. There was a huge evangelical revival going on the 70’s that specifically attacked the small bit of sexual freedom that society experienced in the 60’s, and it was very much a time when ppl were saying that sexual freedom would turn ppl into actual murderers. So even tho disco was commercially successful, it still wasn’t ideal to be associated with it in a lot of places

But also i don’t think EITHER of them are Fem. I do think they’re both masc bc like… yeah. Like I said, even tho Fiddleford’s style is very disco heavy, he IS bringing in those textures and patterns and staples from his upbringing. And the way he was brought up, he would have most likely seen cowboys as the ideal masculine archetype. And while disco was a heated topic in the 70’s, the same silhouettes were still kind of floating around the country scene. Jeans were flared, just not full on bell bottoms. There were wide collared shirts, but not as deep a cut on the neck. And paisley was a pattern that kind of bridges the two groups. So he’s rly marrying the freedom from disco with the flair of 70’s country, which IS kind of a masculine approach to take when flirting with disco fashion. I also think a lot of ppl conflate body type with gender expression (waify, skinny = feminine/fat, broad = masculine) so they see a thinner guy who’s kind of faggy and go “oh he must be Fem” while disregarding EVERYTHING else abt him.

Like what was the point of us getting this picture if you’re just gonna ignore everything but ford’s stupid shorts?

No parents, no wife, no small town church culture. It’s rly him at his most free and his mustache isn’t even the push broom style of mustache that was commonly associated with cowboys in the early 1970’s. This style of mustache was more associated with bikers at the time, and American biker culture has its roots in the post-war gay community. It’s the same origin as the leather community (as in leather daddy) which is why they share so many stylistic staples. So like… that’s yet another display of affinity towards a more masculine style

I don’t know… I just think they’re both so fascinating & I think considering a character’s wardrobe and styling is rly important to understanding them better

[autisticrosewilson]

Obsessed loser Grant getting purposely paired with Jason for a group project. Idk how he would do it but he would.

Also, Dick finding out and trying to say something to Jason about Grant being a FREAK and Jason is just like “Grant? The cute guy who spoken like 3 words to me? What are you talking about Dick?”

Oh my god yeah!!

Lmao poor Dick he's shaking Jason by the shoulders, frothing at the mouth, "Jay, Jason, Little Wing, please. You don't know what he's capable of. You don't know what he's DONE." He's haunted by memories of itch powder in his jock strap and the time the water cooler was spiked with laxatives. No one could prove it was Grant, but Dick KNOWS.

and Jason just laughs him off because Grant is harmless, he barely even speaks! Honestly he's nothing but sweet to Jason, pulling out his chair for him in their shared history class and saving Jason a spot at the front of the line so he always gets first pick for lunch. Jason has a casual crush, but he doesn't seriously entertain it. He doesn't really listen to Dick either, all of his complaints go in one ear and out the other as he texts Grant to decide where to meet up.

Grant is more talkative over text, he learns. More confident and with a wicked sense of humor Jason hadn't anticipated. Grant always takes a while to type out responses, but Jason figures he's just shy, maybe he's got anxiety or something. Jason tries to be extra patient and if the homemade treats Grant brings when his mom makes too much is an indication, Jason assumes it's appreciated.

Grant is genuinely moments from passing out every second they spend together, he's never been this close to Jason for this long!! He smells so good and he has such a nice voice and he's so smart. Grant makes sure to go above and beyond on his share of the work, maybe the most effort he's put into school ever, because he knows Jason often gets saddled with all the work on group projects and Grant refuses to be another one of those leeches. A glimpse at his grades prompts Jason to offer to study with him. JASON!! OFFERED!! TO SPEND TIME WITH HIM!! Grant didn't even have to force it!!! His delusional ass is convinced this is a sign Jason wants him but Jason genuinely just feels bad lmao.

Unfortunately this causes a problem, his parents notice his grades going up too. And they're thrilled initially, but he eventually has to spill he's kind of being tutored by a friend to dodge cheating allegations. Obviously Addie wants to invite the nice boy over for family dinner to thank him. Grant is sweating bullets, terrified that the carefully constructed web of lies and persona he's built for Jason is about to be shattered, the mess that is his family is going to drive Jason away before their relationship ever has a chance.

[ohyoufool]

Omgcp holiday poll time. Begin.

[stromuprisahat]

I love your salty comments about Malware,and how out of place he's for the supposed time period the story takes place in. However,his bullshit would still get him in hot water even in a modern/modern analogue setting. Mouthing off to an authority figure like he did with Nikolai wouldn't be a risk of execution/corporal punishment,but it might make a huge stain in his professional record. His deserting the army would get him in trouble even if it was missing workdays with no reason in the most lax modern job ever - aka,fired and with a bad reputation. You made the high school jock comparison,but even they have to have a modicum of responsibility - training, performance,all the works.

Therefore, Malcontent isn't only a modern teenager. He's a privileged modern teenager.

Absolutely.

I wouldn't dare to act in work the way he casually does, especially towards his "betters". You can think whatever you want, but as you wrote- unless you possess very, VERY unique and/or coveted skill (or deep pocket), you're disposable. Fired, fined, sued... depending on specifics of the situation and your contract.

Even when you're sick, you have to at least let your employer know. And there's no guarantee they will wait for you with their arms open.

Funnily enough- Mal's supposed to be the lowest low. No family, contacts, no coin in his pocket... He comes from nothing, his only marketable skill is his tracking mojo, and while he might be faring well in the army, there's no mention of some kind of official recognition. No rise through the ranks, no decorations, no special assignments (He volunteered for the Stag mission, he wasn't picked for it.)...

He's only "special" through his connection to Alina and her insistence to keep dragging him along.

In his case, I wouldn't even call the lack of suitable consequences of his actions plot ARMOUR anymore...

[lokeefe19]

Uzi’s Streamer Life - Recurring Cast

And now here are the Facts and information about The recurring Cast Members within my Modern AU.

Thad Sparker

20 Years old

Height 4.8

Uzi’s First Friend and Current Co Worker with her at Hot Topic.

Has to deal with the insanity of Living with Three older siblings.

Is native at points but still gives Uzi advice.

He and V constantly end up in misadventures due to them both showing up at the same place.

V constantly thinks he’s annoying but Thad thinks she’s Cool. (And saw her Breasts accidentally)

Lizzy Sparker

23 years old

Height 5.0

Is Thad’s Older Sister and is Constantly Trying to pretend he’s not her sibling.

Constantly tries to one up Uzi on things and Uzi usually ignores it unless it’s something that’s she already doing like Streaming.

Can’t believe that Uzi has a boyfriend which is a thing Uzi likes to use against her as being better than her.

Secretly likes the color Yellow.

Doll

22 years old

Height 5.4

The Dry humor Making and Lax worker at Uzi’s hot topic.

Always trying to get out of her Assigned task in Work but to no avail.

Has a convertible with a portable Tent for camping.

Makes remarks at their Boss Jane (Or as she likes to be called J) for her constant Rule's.

Does not get Gaming.

Think’s Uzi is a strange goth and Thad is a dense Jock.

Tessa James Elliot

23 Years Old.

The Oldest one and the most responsible one out of all the Elliot kids.

Is and has been more of A Mother to both N and V.

Is a semi Great Inventor and Has made a lot of things over the years to the dismay of Her parents.

Has a Boyfriend in the form of Matt. The jock from her high school.

They have been dating for 3 years.

May or may not have cause one or more fires in the Elliot household from her inventions.

CYN

5 Years Old.

Is N,V and Tessa’s Cousin.

Is a little menace (To V at least because of constantly getting the blame for CYN’s chaos).

She really is just a curious little girl who is in the wrong place at the right time.

Loves coloring books even if she can’t finish them.

Likes Hanging Out with Big cousin N and Tessa.

Thought Uzi Was a kid when she first Met her because of her height.

Apologizes frequently if she made a mistake. But N always accepts it.

Likes Chicken nuggets.

[an-obstinate-plethora]

Lax Practice

[willbegforcock]

#22 I’d eat that sweaty jocked ass until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d have to rail me senseless and plant that alpha jock lax cum in me

[gabessquishytum]

Concept: Hob's in his first year at university, and he’s actually become good friends with his randomly assigned roommate (Destruction). He knows Destruction has a... less than ideal relationship with his family, that he's basically only in contact with them at all because he doesn’t want to lose touch with his younger sister.

And then Destruction complains to him that his older brother is coming to visit/check up on him/take him to dinner, and he’s such a self righteous asshole this is going to suck-

And Hob's like "Just bring me along to distract him. I'm SO good at being annoying, he wont be able to judge your life choices if he's judging mine." It's a toned-down of that "I'm a convicted felon do you want me to come to your Thanksgiving dinner" Craigslist post.

Dream shows up. Destruction insists that Hob come to dinner with them.

Hob proceeds to switch whatever filter he had off and spends the whole meal just. Talking at Dream. He starts the evening a textbook overconfident jock who acts like no one's ever told him no and ends the evening very drunk (hey, Dream is paying and it's good alcohol) and earnestly telling Dream he's going to become a doctor and figure out how to cheat death. The concept, not his sister. Why does their family have such weird names, anyway?

Dream comes away from the meal unwillingly fascinated with Hob. He wants to watch as the stress of university deservedly takes him down several pegs and bleeds the light from his eyes. He figures it'll take a month.

So even though the older siblings had set up a 'check in on Destruction' schedule he volunteers to go again the next month.

And honestly there are two directions I could go from here:

A: Destruction once again panics about seeing family he's trying to distance himself from. Hob once again offers to run interference. But somehow they orchestrate it so that Hob ends up spending an entire day with Dream, and they end up doing a 12-hour enemies to lovers speedrun. Hob gives Dream a manic pixie dream girl tour of the campus and its surroundings. Poor Destruction comes back the next day to find his asshole older brother and his roommate in bed together.

Or B: the slowburn version. The first time Dream comes back he meets a slightly mellower version of Hob, and decides he doesn't hate him, actually. And then he just keeps coming back, and he and Hob end up genuinely becoming friends. Dream and Destruction actually start to repair their relationship, too! Trouble is, he's convinced Hob and Destruction are dating (partially bc Destruction still brings Hob along to everything, partially bc both Hob and Destruction are very casually touchy and very lax about wearing clothing while at home). So when Hob finally works up the courage to ask him out, he pulls a "YOU DARE".

He very unhappily tells Destruction "so Hob hit on me"

And Destruction's like "fuckin finally. The man is so stupid about you I swear his pupils turn into little cartoon hearts when he looks at you"

Dream's like "You're not upset?"

And Destruction's like "No, I'm happy for you both, you deserve it. You did. Reciprocate. Right?"

And then Dream establishes that he wasn't actually the other woman and does some over the top rom-com bullshit to win Hob back (this is unnecessary) (he'd never lost Hob) (Hob still appreciates it very much and falls even more in love with him)

Chaotic ADHD coded med student Hob + cutie art student Destruction + stuck up older brother Dream... this is absolutely the ideal combination.

At the end of that first evening Dream is hissing "your boyfriend is unbearable!!" And Destruction is like "he's not my boyfr- you know what never mind. yes i love my very annoying boyfriend hob gadling."

And Dream can't wait to see Hob’s dreams and spirit crushed, but... this doesn't happen. If anything he gets MORE annoying and sunshiney, and Dream becomes unwillingly fascinated by his little brother's terrible boyfriend. Destruction has exams to do so it's Hob who ends up showing Dream around on his next visit, and of course Hob teases him the whole time and makes sure that Dream pays for his lunch and dinner. He sometimes feels like Hob is flirting with him but he tries to ignore that, putting it down to being a part of Hob’s personality.

Destruction is desperately trying to find a way to tell Dream that he's "broken up" with Hob and tell him that it's totally ok to ask Hob out now!!! It doesn't help that Hob keeps sitting on his lap. And braiding his hair. But he can't tell Hob to stop being himself!! What a mess.

There are two possibilities in my mind: Destruction eventually tells Dream that he was lying about the relationship with Hob BUT if Dream doesn't ask Hob out, he will!! And so Dream is faced with the sudden realisation that he's not irritated by Hob, he's actually in love with him!! Oh no!!

OR. For my Hobstruction fans. Destruction is like. "What if we act like good siblings and share him?" And after Dream has recovered from passing out on the floor he has to consider that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea?

Either way Hob is getting Endless dick tonight, as he deserves. Bless our favourite annoying gremlin cockslut <3

[salvagesmha]

Rappa should have joined the League of Villains

Something that was such a missed chance was that Rappa was such a natural fit for the League of Villains that it isn't funny.

Think about it!

For one, he shares their mutual dislike of Overhaul so already there's common ground for the other League and him to get along.

Two, he offers them something they never really lacked and that is 'reasonable close combat power' + likeability. Muscular had the baggage of murdering Kota's parents, and his Pump Up was way too strong to have in the story for too long as a reoccurring threat. Rappa cuts out the established character killing aspect and adds in a layer of honor in just wanting a fair fight. It would've meshed well with the current League being more humanized the more we got to know of them. Plus, in general, himbo that wants a good fight and is generally chill otherwise hits better than 'jerk jock that slaughters anyone for lolz'.

Three, class dynamics!! He would fit in, so, so, so easily as Kirishima's Villain that it HURTS they never saw each other again, even after Rappa claimed to want another shot (seriously what the fuck happened to the rest of the yakuza?!!) He and Kirishima could be like a good indicator of how far Red Riot has come since they last fought and give Rappa the dream match he desires (just, without the death aspect to it XD) Plus, thanks to Vigilantes, he has another dynamic with Mirko that could have easily lend itself to him having a fairer shot reforming in the epilogues.

Four, he could offer a nice look with the MLA/PLF concerning Quirk rights and syncs well with the League's reason for villainy. Rappa became a villain due to overbearing parents controlling his life, which can mirror both Toga and Shiggy's own parentage that affected them to become villains too. He can sympathize with both pretty easily and potentially could have been like another brother to them. On the MLA aspect, given that their whole deal is basically getting unrestricted Quirk access, and Rappa would know from experience the fighting rings he participated in they were created out of need to see some Quirk using fights without the law butting in. So he's probably agree/sympathetic to those who want to just cut loose....but also see if him 'testing' out said MLA soldiers to see how far that desire to rampage goes. Plus, he probably prefers a lax, casual way of getting to his dream rather than, at least initially, the MLA's stuffy, corprorate controlled hierarchy.

Five, I'll be honest, it's just nice to have someone from the Shie Hassaikai stick around as a main stay. I will forever be salty that, aside from a misused Overhaul, NO ONE ELSE was brought back for even the Second War. Whyyyyyy?!! Rappa at least allows them rep to still be in the story and actively doing stuff. (If it were up to me, I'd also allow Chronostasis to slip away to do his own thing, but that's just me XD)

But yeah, this is just me craving something that never happened, but I wish it did so much. Rappa would have been so good to have on-board that it hurts he was just left as a one-shot villain ;_;

[ebongawk]

59? 😶‍🌫️

59. “H-How long have you been standing there?”

"FUUUUUUCK!"

The screech actually kinda startled him. He'd been meandering through the woods, on his way to the picnic table at a lax pace, weighed down by the backpack on his shoulders with the motherfucking homework inside that Chrissy was probably actually gonna make him do.

Or. Y'know. He'd assumed. Until her little cheerleader squeal of an expletive he'd never heard erupt from her lungs scattered entire flocks of birds from the trees.

Yeah, he, uh, picked up the pace at that.

The edge of the tree line gave way to the tiny little clearing he'd claimed as a sophomore, when he'd initially begun dealing and had stumbled upon it while looking for somewhere secret to sell. It unequivocally became his, and no one ventured out there without an invitation.

Except Chrissy, of course. What's yours is mine, forever and ever til death do us part and all that wild shit that people shared when they fell in love and kissed each other's faces.

(And other places.)

Chrissy was practically stomping around the table. Her little feet kicked up dead and dying foliage with every angry step, fists clenched at her sides as she mumbled an entire furious conversation to herself.

Eddie leaned up against a tree, watching the display of fury like one might observe an animal at the zoo. (Which, actually, yeah, that was pretty accurate, as he'd never borne witness to this side of Chrissy's emotions and behaviors.)

Watch closely as a lioness, small for her breed, stalks through the underbrush, agitated by an unseen force as she waits for the opportunity to pounce on her unsuspecting prey...

Eddie might've thought he'd done something wrong, had she been like this when he last saw her this morning. But, nah. She was still smiley, excited Chrissy, bouncing in her seat and happy as a clam with a fully-grown pearl under her tongue.

Something else must've happened.

And Eddie had an inkling of an idea––

"Fuck you, Jason!" she screamed into the trees, and yeah, yep, that's what he figured.

One Mr. Jock Itch Carver had been in a particularly sour mood that morning during their shared physics course, shooting Eddie sullen, angry glances every thirty-eight seconds. Eddie, of course, returned them with knowing smirks, because it was hard not to rub it in Jason's face that Eddie got the girl.

They'd been together about three months now. They'd been public for a few weeks, since the start of their relationship and the end of Chrissy and Jason's may or may not have overlapped. But this morning, Jason had been directly in Eddie's line of sight when he tasted the back of Chrissy's tongue in the hallway. And Jesus Christ, if looks could kill, Eddie would be a very smug pile of smoldering ash in the janitor's waste bin by now.

Jason probably could've pretended Eddie hadn't "won the trophy" or whatever other insert-statement-of-misogynistic-idiotic-nonsense-here if Eddie and Chrissy weren't open with public displays of affection. And even then, the lengths he'd gone to while avoiding Hawkins High's Weirdest New Couple were obvious to the population at large.

(Finally, Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler had been forced to relinquish their title. Fist pump of a win, that was.)

Whether or not Eddie had pulled Chrissy into a kiss like that intentionally this morning upon catching Carver's eye was, y'know, between him and Satan or whoever was giving him these incredible gifts of love and adoration and intimacy.

He hadn't really considered the ramifications of doing that until this moment, though.

"UGH! You're such an ASSHOLE!"

The last word was shouted so loudly that Eddie had to wonder if Mrs. Byers heard it from her work-from-home job on the other side of town.

He really should go talk to her. Calm her down, soothe her frustration. Or, shit, maybe be the thing that she took her frustration out on.

(Being, uh, intwined at the picnic table was not easy. But they made it work.)

However.

This was so entertaining.

With her back to him, she finally stopped dead in the center of the clearing, looking up at the sky and fucking shrieking like a banshee in the Irish hills. It transformed into a loud, "YOU CAN'T JUST TELL THE PASTOR THAT I NEED AN EXORCISM BECAUSE OF MY BOYFRIEND, YOU FUCKING LUNATIC!"

That was when Eddie finally lost his composure.

He barked a laugh that had Chrissy whipping around, her wide eyes and anger-flushed face catching him just before he fell into his hyena cackling. She looked briefly mortified before she registered that it was him.

"H-How long have you been standing there?" she asked, her voice drawing closer with every crunchy, leafy step.

Eddie snorted, wiping the tears of humor from his eyes and closing the remaining distance between them.

"Not long enough, I don't think," he answered, still grinning as he pulled her into a hug. "I was gonna say something, but, uh, you seemed pretty preoccupied."

She pressed her face right into the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath, then another, as Eddie tried to squeeze the angry trembling from her shoulders like a toothpaste tube. After about a minute, she relaxed, melting into him so completely they were basically fused into one.

Eddie led her over to the picnic table with awkward, jolting steps, making her giggle as he tried to walk around her prim legs. A heavy sit onto the picnic bench, and Chrissy climbed willingly into his lap, keeping her face hidden as she bracketed his hips with her knees and clutched him tightly around the middle.

"He's such a freaking jerk," she mumbled after a minute.

"Oh, we're at freaking now? What happened to fucking?"

"Eddie."

"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled, running his fingertips up and down the length of her spine. "He really called the pastor huh? Trying to save your soul or something?"

"He thinks I'm possessed!" she cried. "Just because he's never witnessed me making a decision for myself until now!"

"Well, out of the two of you, I can tell you who I think sounds more brainwashed."

She giggled at that, more tension leaving her body as she snuggled further into him. And holy fuck, it was still insane to him that she took comfort in something as simple as his existence. That he was a balm to her upsets and her insecurities. What a fucking ride this was gonna be.

He hoped he never had to get off.

"Sweetness?"

"Yeah?"

"You, uh... You think they'd let me attend your exorcism?"

"Eddie!"

"I'll be so quiet, I swear, I just wanna be in the room––"

"Oh my God, that's not funny!"

Capturing her lips with his, Eddie kissed the broad, bright smile right from her mouth.

"Then why are you laughing?"

ask meme

[otdiaftg]

The Foxhole Court - Chapter Four

Date: Saturday, May 13th Time: 4:42 PM EST

"Can you or can't you?" Andrew asked. Defeat tasted sour as Neil crouched by his racquet. "I'm done." Andrew left the goal to meet him but stopped with one foot on Neil's racquet. Neil tried to pull it out from under him, but he didn't have the strength. He was even less successful in his attempt to push Andrew off, and that hurt so much his vision crackled black. "Get off my racquet." "Make me?" Andrew said, spreading his arms in invitation. "Try, anyway." "Don't tempt me." "Such fierce words from such a little creature," Andrew said. "You're not very bright. Typical of a jock." "Hypocrite," Neil said.

Art used with permission by Kevinkevinson. Thank you @kevinkevinson !