#the quartermaster
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Angels, demons, language, and culture: part 2
(Part 1, for those interested)
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." --John 1:1, King James Bible
A better theologian than I could perhaps write a meta in which the Starmaker is the Word. I'm not prepared to go that far, honestly. I am fully prepared to say that written words, in the GOverse, are very, very important -- but curiously neither angelic nor demonic. They're human.
I mean, watching s1 I noticed that there's not a whole lot of written words in Heaven, to the point that I was wondering whether angels are even literate. There's the Quartermaster's list (which now I'm wondering about again -- we don't see whether there are words on it; perhaps it's just pictures and maybe checkboxes?), and... and... um... surely there's more... there's got to be more, right? ... huh, go figure.
Word of Gaiman says that angels mostly don't read the Bible; it's not angelic, it's human, and as such rather déclassé. In s2, we do see Gabriel's name written across his file -- but inside it? Not forms, not written documents, but video. There's an Ursula K. LeGuin line -- I think from The Telling? or maybe Four Ways to Forgiveness -- about a society that's postliterate, having left the written word behind for video, and is for that reason extra gullible. Yeah, that line sure does remind me of Heaven.
No wonder Muriel doesn't get much respect from their colleagues or reporting line. If words aren't angelic, how can respect be due to a mere scrivener?
Jimbriel can read, though his grasp on the alphabet is a bit shaky. He can't really read, though -- just as angels can speak human language but not think human thoughts. Only someone who can't quite get his head around the idea that written words convey meaning would try to organize books alphabetically by first word. (Aziraphale does understand this, of course. "But nobody would ever -- yes, fine, go ahead." I love that line. Aziraphale would hate my metadata class -- or he'd love it, just to do the opposite of every organizational principle I teach!)
Hell uses writing, but very inexpertly: the typography on its signs is (with full Doylist intent) execrable, and in s2 we learn that most demons can't spell for beans. What Hell can do with written words, apparently, is contracts, like the one Crowley has to sign for the baby Antichrist -- and after the Job minisode and its miles-long bet contract, I don't actually think contracts come from Hell in general, I think it's Satan specifically who writes them. (Maybe Satan used to be the Word. That'd be interesting. GO theologians, start your engines.)
Hell does seem to have a lot of paper around, shuffled into various overflowing cabinets and stamped at various desks. Hell even has a Lord of the Files! Even so, Furfur relies substantially on a visual display at his desk, a camera, and a surveillance video display. Most of the paper seems to be for handling former humans -- once again, written words and humans are inextricably entwined in the GOverse.
As for angelic and demonic magic, I notice a substantial absence of grimoires, chanting, or incantation, and a whole lot of picture (as we see in the Starmaker's book) and gesture. The Starmaker says "Let there be light" (and so does Aziraphale in s1), but I don't think by internal GOverse logic it'd have worked without the pull-down gesture.
All of which is to say that Aziraphale doesn't need the written word to be an angel; the written word is distinctly unangelic. Writing has to have been something he picked up from humanity, and decided he liked. It's one more thing that distances him from Heaven, as we can see in Gabriel's open contempt for Aziraphale's books, and even the well-meaning Jimbriel's instrumentalist use of books as fans and flyswatters and gravity testers.
Notably, when Nina asks to use Aziraphale's books instrumentally -- as weapons -- she rationalizes it to Aziraphale by indicating that the information in the encyclopedias will still exist online. Aziraphale accepts this! Not without pain, but he accepts it. He, unlike Jimbriel, can separate the meaning of a writing from its carrier. Hi, hello, yes, I am a librarian and I have read my Suzanne "Madame Documentation" Briet and Paul Otlet and Michael Buckland. I've even taught them. Content vs. carrier is a Whole Dang Thing in the history of librarianship. (Also, I am now headcanoning liek whoa that Aziraphale learned French to better understand Briet and Otlet. If he ever starts waffling about antelopes, I will know why.)
But that still leaves @thundercrackfic's actual questions: what exactly attracts Aziraphale to the written word? and how well does he understand it? And my additional question: what about Muriel? I'll get there. I promise! But I still need to talk about rules.
#good omens#good omens meta#aziraphale#heaven and hell#literacy#jimbriel the holy fool#the quartermaster#angel muriel
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Nightwing #106
#nightwing#dick grayson#oracle#barbara gordon#captain blüd#bea bennett#heartless#shelton lyle#maggie sawyer#the quartermaster#dc comics#dc spoilers#matt reads a thing#i posted this
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It’s so them ✨
#my art#james bond#00Q#007#quartermaster#Ben Whishaw!Q#Daniel Craig!Bond#skyfall#spectre#no time to die
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Part II, Part I
#skyfall#james bond#007#q#00q#eve moneypenny#moneypenny#miss moneypenny#m#incorrect quotes#incorrect james bond#incorrect james bond quotes#tis i#daniel craig#craig!bond#craig bond#q james bond#m james bond#ben wishaw#naomie harris#judi dench#olivia mansfield#quartermaster
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ARENA MODE CHARACTERS PROPAGANDA!!💥💥
#oooo you want to draw sweet tony#you want to draw sweet tony so bad#madness combat#madness project nexus#mc doc#chopper dave#sweet tony#garrett goyle#skinner m.d.#quartermaster bert#bossman#chef pava#my art
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✨00Q end of the year fic rec list ✨ (to commemorate the year of the lord 2023 when this ship came back to kick my ass)
the simplest of crimes by pdameron - fake marriage AU. my favorite 00Q fake married au just because the stakes are so low like they didn't have to do all that but the build up is so good.
come a lily, come a lilac by pdameron - florist!Q AU. this really got me giggling and twirling my hair.
James Bond Will Return by sorion - post-Spectre James comes back. a very charming character study.
as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron - pining Q. beautifully written with just the right amount of whump.
people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron - fake relationship but posh. i love whodunnits.
Hold Tight by orphan_account - Spectre fix-it. and fix it they did. also has my second favorite Q name.
lacunae (just the blood you owe) by finestkind - Q offers comfort as bond deals with grief. this fic honestly makes me ache, the way it handles friendship and grief and love UGH.
Say Something (I'm Giving Up On You) by Brihna - Spectre re-write where Q and James sleep before he goes off to Mexico. possibly my favorite Spectre fix-it, love emotional constipation and miscommunication.
Crossing the Bar by GwynDuLac - Q pulls bond out of retirement for an emergency mission. the best mission fic i have ever read hands down.
bloom on my skin, echo in my soul by Areiton - soulmate au. gorgeous writing.
if I couldn't be strong by SailorChibi - post-Spectre James is found abandoned in a hospital in a coma. i love how quietly vindictive Q is in this.
a bloodless coup by Ark - marathon sex. very vulnerable.
I Could've Been a Maths Teacher by Brihna - Q branch gets invaded. v good translation of the comic into prose.
I Don't Take Your Pleasure For Granted by Catchclaw - Q develops a crush. love me some pathetic Q.
I Won't Shiver, I Won't Shake by Only_1_Truth - Skyfall re-write, lots of Q whump. the hurt is so good but the comfort is even better. plus i love attack roombas.
Favours by dhampir72 - pining from Q's POV. fun fact: my gf once quoted a line of this fic to me and i knew immediately which fic she was reading, that's how much i've read this.
rain by Aniron84 - touch starved Q. god GOD, this fic!! there was a time in my life, i read this multiple times a day. the description of loneliness is so on point it always hurts.
Fidelity by marlowe_tops - Q seems to have picked up a stray. local idiot doesn’t know he’s in a relationship, struggles mentally
Indelible by enjolras_lexa - 5+1 of bond breaking into Q's apartment. quite gentle and funny.
A Hitch in the Holster by APrettySpy - Q is having A Time during a heat wave and like Q i'm not immune to the holster
when the world isn't fair by Mlle_Heloise - James rescues Q's holiday. warm and fluffy.
The Pros and Cons of Wayward Agents by Brihna - Q whump with a protective Bond. is it bad to be all teehee while reading someone beat someone else to unconsciousness
Best Dressed by HandsAcrossTheSea - PWP with kilts! really good p0rn and with bottom Bond to boot!
Through A New Lens: A Spectacular Love Story by christinefromsherwood - Q discovers he has a glasses kink, or does he? listen, i too am not immune to daniel craig in glasses so i can relate.
talk / listen by thestalwartheart - dirty talk. a masterclass in p0rn honestly, SO good.
The Inevitability of Time by dhampir72 - soulmate au. will never stop recommending this, it's so tragic and yet not?
#00Q#rec list#007#james bond#quartermaster#i did not expect to get obsessed with them again#but honestly#one of the highlights of my year#there's such good fic out there im always well fed#ive read all of these at least 10x each
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Something I just realized:
Kristen has Fig as her Paladin/knight
Adaine has Fabian as her “champion of the oracle”
All we need now is for Gorgug to become the Quartermaster to Riz’s 007.
#dimension 20#fantasy high#i’m a genius#riz gukgak#gorgug thistlespring#gorgug fantasy high#riz fantasy high#hopefully people remember who quartermaster is in the James Bond series
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Rewatch of spectre got me thinking about him
#007#james bond#spectre#writings on the wall#quartermaster#incorrect quotes#draniel craig#ben whishaw#naomi harris
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10 things i hate about you - chapter 6
eddie munson x harrington!reader
summary - a new rule strikes the Harrington household: if Steve wishes to date ever again, his sister needs to find a boyfriend first. As Steve becomes desperate and thinks of everything in his power to set her up, only one guy comes to mind that will take up a challenge such as that: Eddie Munson.
warnings - the moment you have all been dreading (I'm half sorry), mentions of death, eddie and his questionable dares, joyce buying christmas lights in april, some fluffy fluff, and ofc; a sprinkle of angst
word count - 8.8k
thank you to the amazing @inknopewetrust for proof reading most of this series <3
series masterlist
eddie munson masterlist
"Eds!" Gareth clapped his hands in front of his friend's face.
“What?”
"You're sulking"
"I'm not sulking."
"Why are you sulking?"
There was a pause, a short, challenging silence slithering between the trays of food and drinks before Eddie spoke again with solemn words; "I think I'm in love with her."
And just as the words left Eddie's lips; Gareth huffed loudly alongside two other Hellfire boys. Gareth sent a piercing glare towards his dungeon master–ripping a piece of white bread from his tray and throwing said piece towards Eddie’s face, making it land in his curls.
“Hey! What was that for?” Eddie swatted the bread away, watching with raised eyebrows as his three closest friends fished for something in their pockets; simultaneously pulling out twenty dollar bills. Eddie watched, eyebrows creasing to a frown as the three twenty dollar bills traveled across the table; right into Oliver’s hand.
"Did you have to say love?" Jeff whined.
"Yeah, the bet was lower at like, or really liked," Gareth gruffed, Oliver simply shrugged while Eddie stared—too dumbfounded to speak. The blonde guitarist counted his money before neatly folding it and placing it in his back pocket.
"I'm going to pretend like you guys haven't betted on me," Eddie said before poking his fork around his plate, attention focused on the carotte he was making dance across the paper. “Anyways, it’s not that bad, you guys should be happy for me!”
"Yes it's bad, terrible even!" Oliver dropped his can of mountain dew, drops spilling out from the harsh clatter of it against the table–and Eddie gulped when he made eye contact with the daggers in Oliver’s eyes.
Unfortunately, all his lost heart could do was look back at him like a lost puppy–big eyes pleading for help rather than judgment, and just for a moment–Oliver caved.
A short sigh escaped the blonde’s lips, and he leaned back on his chair in thought. That action caused a new silence, one filled with short huffs and glances from the boys; right until Eddie broke it again.
"I know," he pushed his tray away before leaning back, imitating his guitarist, "I don't know what to do."
"Call the deal off?" Gareth suggested.
"Yeah, that's the most obvious thing, Gareth!" Eddie almost screamed. "One problem; Steve keeps handing me bills like he’s a fucking ATM machine. I have three hundred fucking dollars from him that I refuse to use!"
"I thought that's what you wanted, extra cash," Oliver’s voice was dry, and it almost made Eddie flinch.
"I don’t think I ever took the deal for the money…” He closed his eyes, sighing through his nose, “I think she kind of always fascinated me.”
“So, let me get this straight. Instead of just asking the girl out, you made a deal with her brother that he’d pay you to go out with her?”
“Kind of?” He winced at his own words. “I didn’t realise how fucked up this whole situation was!”
“As if we hadn’t warned you!” Olivier exclaimed, tone almost condescending which sent a new pang across Eddie’s chest.
He didn’t want this. He didn’t need judgment from his best friends, his own internal turmoil was enough.
He was asking for help and Oliver was throwing hard cold judgment across his face like the iced daggers he’d write about for his campaigns.
He felt like Boromir. Tempted by the worst of forces–hypnotized by his mistakes, too enticed to step back–and now he was paying the consequences, as invisible arrows were shot right through his heart.
“Hey calm down Ol’,” Gareth defended, humming in the best soothing tone he could muster; “screaming at Eddie won’t make this any better for him.”
“Right, because he so understood when we told him this was a bad idea three weeks ago,” and with his words, the table fell silent.
Everyone looked at each, carefully assessing the situation and how to proceed. Would anyone dare to break the silence? Even Jeff wondered if he could chew his food and finish his lunch without all eyes turning to him.
Eddie crossed his arms over his chest in subconscious defense—gaze to the side and fixed on the back of a random blue cafeteria chair.
He truly didn’t know what to do. Everything in him wanted to cancel this stupid deal, tell you the truth and just hope that you wouldn’t hate him forever.
Or maybe he could call the deal off and never say a thing—but he’d have to live with that secret for the rest of your relationship.
But thinking about the possibility that you could discover the deal on your own made him shiver. He knew that would hurt you the most, that you’d most, probably, definitely hate him for the rest of your days, and he could say goodbye to ever even being close to you again.
“Hey boys,” your sweet voice broke the undeniable tension, and like a bee pulled towards honey; Eddie turned his full attention to you.
He didn’t know if you noticed the energy, but if you did you didn’t say anything. He did notice your shoulder tense as every eye around the table turned to you, an oldy intimidating silence slithering up your spine–but the second Eddie’s hand reached your waist, it dissolved into a content smile.
“What were you talking about, I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
“Spring Fling.”
“Our next performance.”
“A campaign.”
Eddie flinched, internally cringing at the multitude of answers that rang across the table at the same time.
“O-ok?” You raised an eyebrow, hand resting against Eddie’s shoulder–silently asking for clarification.
“Mainly, Spring Fling, babe,”
“Ah,” you squeezed his shoulder, already pouting before the next words came out of you, “will you be mad if I say no to going?”
“I get you for not wanting to go,” Oliver chimed before chugging the end of his mountain dew.
“Yeah, staying home too?” You asked.
“Oh no, I’m going, don’t know why though,” and as the words left his mouth, he eyed knowingly at Gareth.
“See, Eddie! Olivier is going! Gareth is saved! We don’t have to go!” You squeezed his shoulder and Eddie gulped. This was not going to be easy.
“Y-yeah,” he could barely reply and Gareth shot him a quizzical look.
Eddie was digging his grave right then and there.
He really needed to break that damn deal.
~
“Hey Y/n,” Nancy caught up with you, ponytail bouncing as she ran the short distance between the cafeteria door and the lockers.
“What’s up?” You smiled once she was at your level, closing your locker and tightening the notebooks you were holding as you continued your way through the mass of students.
“Have you seen Barb?”
“No,” you frowned. “I haven’t seen her all day, actually, I was going to ask you. She didn’t have lunch with you?”
You watched her frown deepen, “no, she wasn’t there, I sat with Steve and his friends. I–um I haven’t seen her since yesterday at your place.”
“Oh, well I’m sure she’s fine, probably called in sick or something,” but your words didn’t soothe Nancy’s worries.
“I called her mom,” she averted her stare from yours.
“And?”
“She didn’t come home yesterday, or this morning.”
“Oh,” your heart sank down to your stomach, the uneasy feeling threatening to swallow you whole.
“Are you sure she left your place last night?”
“Yeah,” you matched her frown. “You don’t think-?”
“That she disappeared like Will?”
“I don’t know… This whole situation just seems odd…” You looked around, maybe in search of something, just to be met with the mass of students that walked through the maze of hallways that was Hawkins High. No one seemed bothered; no one looked worried or stirred by what was silently unfolding in the city.
“Yeah…”
You brought your gaze back to Nancy, trying to hunt for a topic to change the subject–anything that could hook both your attentions elsewhere.
Then you saw it: the bright pink and yellow poster for Spring Fling. You huffed, ripping the poster from the wall and crumbling the paper, just to throw it in the nearest trash. An attempt at rebellion, maybe.
“Who the heck would go to that antiquated mating ritual.”
“I would!”
“Do you seriously want to get all dressed up so some rando with a boner dressed up in the first suit he found at Gap can feel you up while you’re forced to listen to a band that by definition ‘blows’?”
She scoffed, “the rando in question is your brother, may I add.”
“My brother?” You raised your eyebrows, “but I’m not going, he won’t be allowed to go.”
“You’re not?” She squeaked, eyes darting to your hands as you unfolded the wires of your walkman. “Steve told me you would. I think he assumed Eddie asked you.”
“Steve has no business assuming what I will or will not do, and Eddie has asked me, I told him no.”
“Why? I thought you liked Eddie.”
“Going with someone I like, still doesn’t change the fact that I find these gatherings dumb,” you accentuated your words by harshly placing your headphones around your neck, and locking your walkman onto your backpocket.
“Are you sure you won’t go? Just for me? Just so Steve will go, and by extension I will?” Her big blue eyes pleaded, lips forming into a pout, and for a split second you faltered, wondering if you could do this for your friend.
“I’ll see.”
“You are incorrigible,” she rolled her eyes, already knowing this meant no.
“Indeed I am,” you looked around, gaze flickering from the lockers to Nancy, “so do tell me, you and Steve last night, hm?”
“Oh, shut up!” Her shriek made you giggle, and you would have continued teasing her if not for the hands that latched onto your waist, you jumped, shrieking before feeling yourself getting picked up into the air.
You immediately recognized the laugh that echoed in your ear, and Nancy’s smile gave the owner of those hands even more away.
“Eddie, let me down!” You giggled in echo with him, hands wrapping around his own before he dropped you back on your feet.
“Don’t you have a class to get to?” You mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“Mrs. Day called in sick, I have a free period.”
“Oh lucky,” you hummed, shoulders slumping at the anticipation of your next hour.
“Eddie?” Nancy spoke, making Eddie’s curls brush your cheek as he turned to face your friend. “Have you seen Barb by any chance?”
“Not since yesterday,” he shook his head and he sensed the way you tense up in his arms. “Everything ok?”
“We think she’s missing.”
“Missing? Like the Byers kid?”
“According to her mom, she didn’t come home last night, and skipping school isn’t like her,” Nancy bit her lip as she looked to the side.
“I mean, maybe she did. I’m not one to say that skipping school isn’t fun,” Eddie concluded, smirking slightly. He knew that this subject was reaching a dead end, and he sighed before turning his attention back to you. “What are you doing after school?”
“Nothing, why?”
“I found this new card game at the comics shop, and maybe if the game gets boring I can teach you D and D.”
“Are you asking me out on a game date?”
“Are you saying yes?” Instead of answering directly with words, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, muttering your answer as you pulled away.
“If you two will stop face fucking in the hallway, we’ve got class,” maybe it was jealousy that your brother wasn’t as sweet as Eddie picking at her stomach, or the stress from Barb stacking up, but she ripped her stare away from the two of you to stare at bright blue lockers on the other side.
“Sorry,” you giggled, slipping out of Eddie’s arms after stealing one last kiss.
“I’ll see you after class, Eds.”
~
“What do you think they’re up to?” Your hand gripped Eddie’s a little tighter as you watched your brother and his friends laugh towards Johnathan. The poor Byers brother was being thrown around by the greedy hands of your idiot brother, the grim look on his face turned to disgust and anguish. You watched your brother, a loud chuckle ripping from his mouth. Your frown deepened as Tommy gave him one last push, Steve snatching pieces of paper from his grip.
Jonathan watched as Steve and Carol ripped to shreds the papers, they all laughed one last time; Tommy giving him a last cruel shove that almost made him trip before walking away.
You took closer steps towards the parking–maybe in a quick attempt to help, but unfortunately, the group was walking right for the two of you, waltzing away from the mess they created towards god knows where.
“What did you do?” You grumbled as your path crossed your brothers, glancing behind his shoulder to spot Nancy jogging the distance between Johnathan and her group of new so-called friends.
“You’ll never guess, the perv took pictures of us yesterday!”
“What?”
“He was in the woods by our place, snapping pictures of us in the pool, even snapped shots of Nancy while she was changing.”
“Why?” You raised your eyebrows, squeezing Eddie’s hand.
“Caus’ he’s a perv?” Carol snickered, “and that’s all he’s found to do with his miserable life?” Tommy chuckled at his girlfriend’s words, and they disappeared behind you again, snickering as they left towards the field behind the High School building.
“Weird,” you muttered, watching Johnathan getting back into his car and leaving.
“You think he took my good profile?” Eddie, like always, pulled you out of your thoughts with a dumb joke, making you snort and playfully shove his shoulder. “What?” He offered a new laugh and you rolled your eyes.
“C’mon, let’s go try this new card game, I’ve had enough of this place for the day,” you tugged at his arm, dragging him further towards your car.
“Understandable,” he muttered, watching as you toyed with your car keys. “Hey, how about we pass by Melvald’s first? Grab some snacks and stuff.”
“Yeah, I’d like that,” your hand brushed his as you parted ways to climb in the driver’s seat.
Apart from the Metallica blasting from the speakers; the ride was quiet, peaceful almost, as you bathed in each other’s presence. It was nice, seeing the streets of Hawkins with someone you liked by your side–it almost all seemed less… daunting. It was soothing, knowing you’d get to have careless laughter over junk food and a pack of cards, letting the week’s worries and Steve’s torment slip away for just a few hours.
You almost smiled when the red writing of Melvald’s came to view, stomach already growling not with hunger, but envy for cookies and candies–anything that could be considered a bad excuse for a dinner.
You parked next to a mattered brown truck, mud stains on its wheels and rusty doors. Eddie placed a hand in his hair as he exited your car, a poor excuse at trying to tame his curls, but you smiled when his hair stayed as wild–it suited him better.
Your hand found his as you walked into Melvald’s. The shop seemed pretty empty apart from a few stray heads bopping out of aisles.
“Afternoon,” you smiled at the owner behind the counter, he nodded before you both headed for the cookie aisle, grabbing one of those cheap red plastic baskets on the way.
“What are your favorites?” You hummed playfully as you scanned the shelves.
“I’d say Oreos are good, or um,” he thought, fingers going over his lips in thought. “Chips Ahoy! I love Chips Ahoy”
“The white chocolate fudge ones are the best,” you turned to Eddie and watched his face turn in pure horror.
“What did you just say?”
“That the white chocolate fudge cookies are the best?”
“I think you hit your head too hard as a kid, sweetheart. The normal milk chocolate ones taste so much better.”
“Hey! That is so not true,” you pressed on.
“They’re so sweet,” he scrunched his nose, “makes you sick if you eat too much.”
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, jokingly vexed at his hatred for your favorite.
“Oh my god, I used to love these as a kid,” Eddie’s face lit up as his eyes crossed paths with the a small white cardboard box, big smiles drawn over it.
“Says the guy who called White Fudge Chips Ahoy too sweet,” you narrowed your eyes as he picked up the pack of Giggles from a shelf.
“You don’t want to get them?” He raised an eyebrow.
“No, no. I still love these, put them in,” you grinned, raising the basket so he could dump them in next to the pack of Oreos.
“What else should we take?”
“Drinks?”
“Yeah,”
In twenty minutes spent in the store, your basket was already full with enough food and drinks for the entire of Hellfire. Cans of coke laying against bright blue cookie packaging and other junk food that had caught your attention. Eddie had ended up carrying the basket when it got too heavy, and now it rested by his feet as you waited in line.
A middle aged woman was in front of you–a toddler in her arms as she fumbled with the coins in her wallet. The baby’s small hands were fumbling with strands of her red hair–babbling something as he watched his mother pay for her groceries.
You were so enthralled in the scene–trying to see how much strength the toddler could tug on the women’s red locks with, that you hadn’t noticed the familiar face settling in the cue behind Eddie. She was almost hidden behind a pile of boxes that laid upon one of her hands, the other gripping the bar of a shopping cart, and you only recognised her by her anxious sigh as she tried to balance the boxes in her grip.
“Oh, hey Joyce,” you smiled, a gentle smile that bled with your compassion and she suddenly turned her attention to you.
Eddie also turned his attention to her–immediately realizing who this was. He’d seen her behind the counter more times than he could count, and he was also eighty percent sure that Wayne briefly knew her from High School, remembering their short conversations from the hundreds of times he helped his uncle shop here.
“Oh! Y/n, I didn’t see you there!” She spoke, almost startled by your simple greeting.
She looked tired, like she hadn’t properly slept in days. Her hair poking all over the place, and she was anxiously tapping her foot against the white floor of Melvalds. You assumed she was off work with everything going on, since she wasn’t standing behind the counter like usual.
But what really caught your attention was the amount of Christmas lights she had gathered. At least twelve boxes had been stuffed in the kart, leaving no room for the five others that she held in her free hand. You couldn’t begin to wonder why she had bought everything out of the clearance section, but your heart ached as you watched her gaze falter to the window for a split second before going back to you. She shifted her grip on the boxes, and a new huff left her lips before she handed you a tight smile.
“Is Johnathan with you?” You wondered, eyes briefly going across the aisle visible from your spot in the line.
She shook her head, “he’s probably home right now,” you nodded at her words and watched as her gaze flickered around again–as if she was suddenly comfortable. Maybe it was the mention of her son; maybe a conversation or two about Will that caused tension to seep between them, when in fact they should be sticking together.
Her gaze faltered, becoming softer as she took new acknowledgment of you again. She sent a smile to you and turned to Eddie who was yet to talk.
“This is Eddie, my boyfriend,” you watched the expression on her face change–impressed, slightly surprised maybe.
“Wayne’s nephew right?”
“In the flesh,” Eddie smiled, politely nodding.
“Also I wanted to tell you,” you spoke again, Joyce’s gaze dancing back to yours. “If you need anything from us, you have my number, Joyce.” Her whole face softened, gratitude seeping in through her eyes.
“Thank you, honey,”
~
Eddie’s trailer felt just as you left it the day before. A cozy haven for the loneliest of souls to find refuge on cold nights. But to your surprise, Eddie didn’t remove his shoes once he crossed the threshold–he even told you to wait for him by the entrance with the multitude of bags filled with the sweets you’d bought.
You watched as the metalhead bounced across his living space, shedding his leather jacket on the living room chair after he had complained that the spring sun was suffocating him, before he disappeared to his room, and came back with a small blue and orange metal box. His card game.
“Follow me,” Eddie swept past you, grabbing the two shopping bags and jumping the small steps out of his trailer. You raised an eyebrow before following him through the grass patch around his trailer, passing through a laundry line that hosted a few band t-shirts that could only be Eddie’s, and tattered work jeans that you assumed were Wayne’s.
You intently watched as you both faced a small, thin ladder that climbed up to the trailer’s roof. “Can you take one?” you nodded as he handed you one of the plastic bags.
Eddie stuffed the small card game in his back pocket–you silently questioned him, he could have simply just put it in the bag he was holding. But that didn’t stop him from anything, and you carefully observed as Eddie hummed a ‘follow me’, before starting to climb the rusty ladder.
You landed on the roof with a huff, and noticed that Eddie had already settled himself on a far off corner, the plastic bag neatly placed next to his feet.
“Nice view,” you noticed. Smiling as you gazed across the sea of trailers, each painted in their own uniqueness. it was far off from the white picket fence houses–a sea of odd shapes and colors, but it was all the most comforting, lively even. Smoke coming out of barbecue grills, laughter spilling out of small backyards and the light breeze making the bright colored laundry dance.
“You like it?” He grinned as he admired you trot towards him.
“I love it,” you settled beside him on the floor, dropping your bag next to the other one and started fishing inside of it for your well earned snacks.
Your hands settled for a pack of oreos, settling it in your lap as you wiggled yourself to be more comfortable.
"This feels like that one Elton John song."
"Which one?" He raised a playful eyebrow.
"We sat on the roof," your soft voice hummed, slithering into the soft breeze and to Eddie’s ears.
“Kicked off the moss,” he hummed along with you, making a giggle escape your lips.
“You listen to Elton John?”
“On occasions,” he murmured, busying himself with the bag next to him to fish for a can of soda.
“Wow, didn’t take you for the Elton John type.”
“I’m a man of many mysteries,” he dramatically sighed.
“Shut up,” you giggled, rolling your eyes before grabbing your own can of coke–popping it open before finally speaking again, “so, that game of yours?”
“Yes!”
Eddie grabbed the small box from his pocket, eyes sparkling as he opened it and placed the lid at his side. He took the cards in his hands and started mixing them.
“So, rules are simple, I think.”
“You think?”
“I didn’t read the rules.”
“Eddie, you can’t play a game if you don’t know the rules,” you giggled, grabbing the box at his side and taking the paper out.
“The guy at the shop told me how to play it, I thought I’d remember.”
“You’re impossible,” you huffed, unfolding the little paper and scanning through the words. You raised an eyebrow, reading through the instructions, “ok, so,” you licked your lips in thought before looking at the cards in Eddie’s hands. “We have to start with the card that looks like the cross path thingy.”
“Ok,” Eddie listened before flipping through the cards and placing said card in between the two of you; right next to the oreo pack.
“Wait, Eddie.”
“What?”
“It’s from three to eight players,” you giggled. “Eddie, we can’t play.”
“What?” His eyes widen, ripping the rule book from your hands. “Oh,” he hummed, realization hitting. “Well, this sucks.”
“Yeah, dumbass,” you giggled, grabbing a new oreo.
He sighed, placing the cards back in their box before dropping them at his side, sharing a gaze with you.
“What should we do?”
“Dunno,”
~
The sun had started to set across the trailer park, and a tumble of giggles seemed to be the main theme of your afternoon. One lone cookie was left in the Chips Ahoy pack, and the stacks of plastic wrappers and cans were starting to pile up; a show of the evening slowly dying out into night.
“Ok, ok,” you giggled, leaning closer to Eddie. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” you raised an eyebrow at his reply, a smirk dancing across your lips.
“I dare you to compliment your neighbor’s dinner,” your gaze traveled to the elderly couple eating in the garden beside Eddie’s trailer. They looked happy–a couple who danced through time together. You could faintly hear their conversation in the distance, but barely making out words, and if Eddie shouted just enough he could easily spring a conversation.
“That’s so stupid,” he grinned.
“I know,” you giggled back and Eddie rolled his eyes before turning around to face his neighbor’s garden.
He took a second to observe. The barbecue grill on the opposite side was still smoking from its use, and he spotted the home made burgers on their plates. That would be easy to compliment. Plus, Eddie didn’t mind, Wayne was on good terms with them, maybe less so Eddie as he often bothered them when playing guitar. But if the odd comment could bring a good laugh out of the two of you, then Eddie would gladly plunge into your dare.
“Hey! Mr. Carol!” The elder man turned from his grill as the call reached his ear. “Good job on the burgers! They smell amazing!” You had to place a hand over your mouth to stop the giggles from tumbling like a waterfall as you watched the poor man’s face twist in an awkward smile, both of his eyebrows raised to the sky as he watched his teenage neighbor send him a compliment from his trailer’s roof.
“Thanks Eddie.” The man awkwardly replied and Eddie saluted him before turning back around to you.
“Happy?”
“He looked so confused.”
“He did, didn’t he?” Eddie smiled with you, grabbing another oreo, before mumbling with a mouthful, “truth or dare?”
“Dare,” you smiled, keeping your gaze on Eddie as you grabbed the last Chip’s Ahoy, crumpling the wrapper in your hands and throwing it to the side to join the pile.
“I dare you to take off your top,” your eyes went wide at his request.
“And flash the whole trailer park?” You shrieked and a loud laugh tumbled from Eddie.
“Well, already you did it for me once,” he dramatically sighed, poking at your ribs, creating another laugh to leave you.
“I did it to save your ass.”
“I know, I'm only kidding,” he smirked. “I’ll keep that dare for another time,” he smiled, knocking at you before looking down at the oreo’s in between you, “I dare you to fill your mouth with as many oreos as you can.”
“and?”
“If you manage to put seven in without almost choking, you get a prize.”
“Why seven?”
“Because that’s my record.”
“That’s so stupid,” you noticed.
“C’mon, do your dare.”
You rolled your eyes, keeping eye contact as your hand traveled to the cookies. You grabbed one-easy. The next one slipping nicely against the second one. You couldn’t look at Eddie anymore, the look in his eyes was enough to make you laugh and want to spit out the whole thing. The next two managed to fit, somehow, and you could hear Eddie chuckling, your gaze focused on the blue wrapper in concentration.
But when you reached for the fifth one, about to place it in your mouth–you caved. Making eye-contact with Eddie. He was laughing like an idiot; watching your chipmunk cheeks with a devilish spark in his eyes. But that look was fatal, and a laugh climbed right through you, causing you to spit everything out to the side.
Eddie roared even more with laughter and you had to playfully slap his shoulder in order to keep yourself from laughing too.
“You lost, I’m so sorry,” he patted your shoulder, using his grip to bring you further towards him, kissing the side of your mouth.
“What was the prize?” You questioned, chewing the last bit of crumbs that were left in your mouth as you leaned against him.
“A private concert,”
“As if you don’t willingly do them, all the time.” he shrugged at your comment, making you smile and remember your game, “Eddie.”
“Yes?”
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth,”
“Tell me a secret,”
“Ok, I hate peas.”
“No,” you giggled, “tell me something real, something no one else knows,” you grabbed a twizzler, pointing to him with it once you had taken a good bite out of it.
“Ok,” he smirked, a mischievous glint passing by his gaze. The grip on your waist became tighter and he leaned even closer to you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear with his free hand before kissing your cheek. “You’re sweet,” he pressed a new kiss to your other cheek “and sexy,” a new kiss to your lips, “and completely hot for me,” you gasped a laugh.
“You are amazingly self assured, as anyone else told you that?”
“I tell myself that every day, actually,” he chuckled before locking your lips into a new kiss, and suddenly an invisible sting pulled him back to the reality of the pact he had made with your brother. “Come to the dance with me tomorrow.”
“Is that a request or a command?” You attempted to joke, but he continued.
“Come on, go with me.”
“No.”
“Why not?” He breathed out a sigh, toying with your fingers.
“I told you already, it’s a stupid tradition.”
“C’mon, people won’t expect you to go.”
“Eddie, why are you pushing this? What’s in it for you?” Maybe you wouldn’t have asked, but Barb’s words suddenly came bouncing into your mind, like an unstoppable bouncy ball hitting the walls of your brain and shuddering through your spine.
“Nothing, just the pleasure of your company.”
You paused at his words. Mind twirling in the multitude of possibilities. Eddie had been pushing this, but maybe that was just his attempt at trying to be a normal high school couple.
Would Eddie really want this? Would Eddie really enjoy a gathering full of sweaty hormonal teenagers, with no alcohol, weed or anything else you could think of that he’d use for a good time, all that mixed with awful music? You couldn’t be sure, and you were getting anxious about an ulterior motive.
Barb had made it clear she didn’t trust Eddie, and your heart pinched at the thought.
You sighed, eyes dancing across the setting sun as it reached further down the sky, casting yet a new glow of colors across the trailer park.
Your grip on Eddie’s shoulder tightened; “It’s getting late,” you hummed, turning your gaze back to Eddie, “I should go.”
“Y/n-”
“No, it’s fine Eddie, don’t worry about it,” you gave him a tight smile. “Thanks for the evening,” you stood from his grip, dusting the crumbs from your jeans before nodding back to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
~
The next morning, you opened your locker, just for a bright neon pink paper to slip out of it, flying down just to land on your feet.
You huffed, gladly stepping on it. It hadn’t even happened yet, and you already had enough of this stupid dance.
You wanted to throw up, first Will, and now no one seemed to even blink twice about Barbara. Maybe if she had been some popular cheerleader, a Tammy Thompson, or a rising star like Chrissy Cunningham she would have the whole town at her feet trying to find her, caring for her. And a part of you wondered if anyone would even care if you would ever go missing yourself..
"Are they really still throwing Spring Fling when two students are missing?" You gazed at Eddie who was leaning against your neighboring locker, fumbling with his walkman.
“Is Barb officially missing now?”
“Police thinks she ran away,” you angrily stuffed some books in your locker, Eddie noticing the stress lines forming on your forehead.
“Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday, I should have gotten the hint the first time you told me you didn’t want to go.”
“S’okay,” you hummed, keeping your hands fumbling with the contents of your locker as your gaze stayed focused on its insides. “I’m not mad at you, I’m just- I don’t understand why everyone is acting so calm. Nancy was balling her eyes out on the phone to me last night, assuring me that Barb was gone missing. She went on, telling me her car was still parked not far from mine and saying that she felt a creepy presence in my backyard,” you finally managed to neatly place the books like you wanted, and closed your locker door in a loud, angered thud.
“Oh,”
“Yeah,” you chewed on your nails and Eddie didn’t know what to say, or what to even do with his own hands. “What if something bad has happened to them? And I mean bad, bad,” you rested your back against your locker. “I can’t imagine what it would do to Dustin, imagine Barb’s parents? I-, I feel desperate in this situation and I feel like I’m one of the only ones to actually care.”
“We could try and play detective, if you want? I mean, D and D does make you pretty good at piecing things together,” he offered you a short smile and your heart warmed a bit at his words.
“Maybe.”
~
You didn’t understand Nancy.
As much as you loved her, you couldn’t begin to piece her out. Last night, she was calling you crying about your missing friend, and now she was begging you for a distraction you weren’t willing to give out.
“Please, please come,” she whined over the phone, and you eyed Steve as he walked across from the kitchen to the living room, giving you his biggest death glare as he did.
“Nancy, you know my answer,” you groaned–wanting to slam your head onto the wall next to you. “Do you realize that two people are missing, and you’re ready to just forget all of that to go dancing with idiots?”
“Y/n, I think we both need this, we can continue searching tomorrow.”
Was this really the same Nancy you had chatted with the day before?
“You’re in a relationship now, you should understand this!”
“Understand what exactly?”
“That I want to spend time with my boyfriend. The world is falling apart and I’m stuck home with my thoughts. Wouldn’t you ask the same thing if the roles were reversed? Wouldn’t you beg Steve and I to go to a Ren Fair or I don’t know a Metallica concert if you couldn’t?”
“Spring Fling is far from being a Metallica concert, Nancy,” you chuckled at the idiocy of her comparison.
“But what if Spring Fling is my Metallica concert?”
You fell silent over the line. Were you that selfish? Not letting your friend get that date with your brother and miss out on an event everyone wanted to go to. You sighed, rethinking your life one last time before sighing out; “Okay,” head falling against the wall by the telephone. “I’ll tell Steve to come pick you up.”
“Oh my god I love you!”
“Yeah, yeah, love you too, I’ll see you there,” and with those words you hung up, dread seeping into your bones once again. “Steve! Get fucking ready, you’re taking Nancy to that stupid dance!”
“I’m what now?”
“You’re taking Nancy to Spring Fling,” his eyes widened, mouth agape.
“Oh my god, I love you,”
“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes, watching Steve scurry away to the upstairs bathroom. You sighed before crossing the kitchen, eyeing for any one of your parents.
“Hey darling,” as if she knew you had been searching for her, your mom’s soft voice echoed from the laundry room, through the corridor and right to you.
“Right here,” you hummed back, trotting to meet her there.
“Oh perfect,” she smiled, “could you bring this up? Half of this is Steve’s and then the other half is yours.”
“Are you obliging me to walk through the pits of tartarus?”
“If this means, entering your brother’s room to drop off his laundry, yes I am asking you.”
“Fine,” you hummed, grabbing the basket of folded laundry from your mother’s arms. “Also, Steve and I are getting ready to leave, we’re um- going to the spring fling thing.”
“Oh,” her eyes widened. “You’re going?”
“Yeah. Nancy convinced me.”
“Alright,” she let the shock seep through her. “I’ll let your father know.”
“Thanks,” you smiled before scurrying away, jumping up the steps–the quicker you got this done, the quicker you could get ready, and the quicker you were out of the house, the quicker you would be back.
You dropped everything that was yours on top your bed–not bothering with putting it in your cupboard before waltzing towards Steve’s room. You could hear the stream of the shower, and if you were really careful, you could hear Steve faintly humming a Kate Bush song. You rolled your eyes before opening his door, ready to be met with the utter mess that you remembered his room to be–but to your surprise, it was neat and even smelt nice.
You blinked in shock, taking in the well done bed, the freshly vacuum carpet and the organized shelves. Even the desk was neat, two pots of pencils stood proudly in the corner, while only a stray eraser felt out of place–sitting next to an opened agenda. His desk lamp illuminating his scruffy writing, creating a halo over the white lined page.
Once the surprise was seeping in, you blinked; remembering your original mission. You dropped the basket on his bed, sighing before turning back around.
And that’s when you caught the writing across the white paper of Steve’s used notebook.
MONEY SPENT
March 30 - family video $6
April 2 - Maldev’s $2, lunch $5
April 5 - lunch $2
April 11 - Lunch $7, family video $3.
April 12 - Eddie $50
April 14 - Scoops Ahoy $6
April 15 - Eddie $100
The list went on–Eddie becoming a recurrence since ‘April 12’, the money only adding as the days went by. Your heart thumped in your chest–why in the world was Eddie’s name on Steve’s wannabe accountant list, and secondly, where in the world did Steve find this kind of money?
You wondered for a brief instant if Eddie had been dealing to your brother, but then you had only seen Steve high once, and it had been two days ago, at that wretched gathering.
Barb’s warning echoed in your head, and for a mere second you allowed yourself to feel the worst. Was this why Eddie had been bugging you to come to the dance with him?
You refused to make it make sense, but then April 12 had been the day Eddie had first tried to ask you out.
Your breath suddenly caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart thumping in your ears. No. This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t be sure of anything yet.
Nonetheless, you didn’t have time to think about it. You were on the clock with a promise made to your best friend, and strolling out of Steve’s room, you noticed a frown on your face you hadn’t even realized was there.
You let out a shaky sigh as you entered your room, being met with your reflection in the mirror.
You had made Nancy a promise,
You’d have to confront either of the two after the dance.
~
“Eddie, there’s a girl outfront for you.”
“Huh?” He lifted the book from his eyes, dropping it on the coffee table before lazily sitting up, limbs cracking as he did. He looked at Wayne in question, not bothering to fix his pyjama shirt as he walked to the kitchen area and looked through the window.
His eyes weren’t failing him–indeed there you were, the window of your car rolled down and Eddie could see you all dolled up in a pretty dress he’d never bet he would ever see you wear. You looked straight at him through the window and honked, a signal for him to come over.
“What the fuck,” he muttered under his breath as his socked feet walked him to the front door. “Hey, what are you doing here?” Even though shock was seeping through him, he smiled at your sight.
“Get in loser, we’re going to the spring fling,” his mouth was wide, agape like a fish as he registered what was happening. He blinked, and stood there a second too long because you honked your car horn again. “C’mon! We don’t have all night!”
You watched as Eddie blinked again before shaking his head and scurrying back inside. You heard faint mumbling from the trailer and his running around. You even thought you heard a loud noise that was most probably Eddie falling as he tried to get the suit of his pants up.
His hair was wild once he opened the door of the trailer again, but he was brushing it back with his fingers as he walked down the metallic steps and walked to you.
“Where did you get a tux last minute?” You grinned as he opened the passenger door, his slime had made all anxiety wash away from your body and you felt yourself melt a little further into your car seat, butterflies brushing the side of your stomach at the sight of him in a suit.
“Oh, you know, just something I had, laying around,” he shrugged, pretending to be brushing something off of his shoulder “Where’d you get the dress?”
“Oh you know just something I had, laying around,” that made him laugh, eyes intently scanning your figure as you started driving away.
“What made you change your mind?”
“Nancy wouldn’t stop bugging me about it, thought I’d take a break from being a heinous bitch, for a change,” you smiled, and your mind brought you back to the writing in Steve’s notebook an unsettling feeling tugging at your heartstrings as your gaze went back to the boy next to you.
“Respectable,” he grinned, already opening your glove box for a cassette–fishing out a Black Sabbath mixtape he had made for you.
And for a golden second, as you watched him grin like an idiot over the cassette he had so carefully designed–your worries washed away.
Eddie had been so caring. He had come into your life, bulldozing everything you had trapped yourself in. He brought a new breath to your lungs and you felt yourself again, you felt whole again.
And maybe, just maybe you could let yourself believe that Eddie’s name on Steve’s notebook was something entirely different.
~
Spring fling was everything you had expected it to be.
Bright colored balloons floating across the air, handwritten banners hanging from every corner, large tables with various beverages and food laying across it. Music was bursting out of large speakers lodged at every corner of the room–and not to mention almost the entirety of Hawkins High.
Toto’s Hold The Line was ringing in your ears, and you felt your hand grip Eddie’s a little tighter as you walked past a group of cheerleaders, all giggling at something Cameron Ness had said. The star jock was wearing his best suit, a blue ruffled jacket that made all the girls cling to him like moths to a flame. Each of them were in close competition with your brother at the amount of hairspray they had, hairstyles more and more elaborate the more you stared.
You did not feel in your place at all.
It all felt intoxicating.
You spotted your brother, long gone into a conversation with some brunette jock named Jeremy. You looked at Nancy–she seemed so happy for once; a bright smile plastered on her face as she leaned against Steve’s navy vest.
And maybe, just maybe the thought of your best friend getting to have a good time made it less hard to stand the suffocating gym.
“Wanna dance?” Eddie turned to you, a smile on the corner of lips, “while the music is still somewhat tolerable.” Eddie lifted his hand, silently asking for yours.
“Yes,” you slotted your hand in his–butterflies brushing the sides of your stomach as you marched towards the dance floor.
Maybe the evening wouldn’t be so bad.
~
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you hold my drink, I need to go to the bathroom,” you smiled as Eddie was already offering his hand.
“Of course.”
Eddie’s gaze traveled around the room, and an unsettling feeling crossed his stomach when his gaze met your brother’s. He was at a different spot this time, chatting with Nancy over a cup of punch.
This was it.
This had to be his chance.
He didn’t think twice before crossing the room, fingers brushing through his hair before speaking; “Hey, Harrington.”
“My man!” Steve cheered, and wrapped an arm around him. Eddie awkwardly nodded towards Nancy who had handed him a tight smile upon his arrival.
“Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Steve nodded and asked Nancy if she could hold his drink–to which she accepted and nodded them away.
Eddie noticed Steve was maybe more than a little tipsy as he walked beside Eddie, mumbling jokes and saying hi to everyone who crossed their way. He thought this would be a never ending nightmare, and it would probably be hours before he reached a quiet spot. And after torechous minutes of Steve greeting everyone who met his eyes as he was dragged through the mass of students, they finally reached the quiet corner next to the bleachers.
“So-”
"The deal is off."
“What?” Steve suddenly felt himself sober up. “Why?”
“Because I can’t continue like this.”
“But why? I thought you needed the money-”
“This isn’t about the money, Steve,” the name felt bitter in his mouth–maybe because he blamed him for his suffering, or maybe Eddie blamed himself–but right this minute the lines blurred in his mind and he felt his stomach bubble with a new kind of anger. “This is about your sister, it’s killing me to be doing this to her.”
“Why would you care?” Steve snorted, and Eddie almost took a step back at the cruelty he was witnessing first hand.
Did Steve really care so little about you?
“Because I’m falling in love with her,” the words tumbled out of Eddie’s mouth faster than he could think, and he had to bite his lip once he realized his confession.
Steve’s mouth fell open wide, the room starting to spin—and this time it wasn’t the snuck in vodka that made him feel this way; but the way his plan was biting him back.
“No, no, no. You can't be in love with her,” he felt the words leave faster than intended, his own interests getting the best of him.
“Who are you to tell me what to feel or not feel, Harrington.”
Steve blinked–stunned, “no, you’re right. But you can’t be falling for her! I never said you could actually date her, you’re going to be a bad influence!”
“Excuse me? Says the guy who hand picked me.”
“Because you were the only one good for the job!”
“Exactly, and that’s why I’m putting an end to the whole thing.”
“She’s smarter than you give her credit for, you know? She’s going to figure it out soon enough, and it’s going to go all to shits. She might hate us both in all cases, but I’d rather her learn about this fiasco the right way.”
“No-no, you can’t tell her anything! What about me? What about Nancy?”
“Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Look, I’ll pay you double, we continue the deal like it was, you continue to date her, and we can just forget this whole conversation happened, okay?”
“Did you not hear a word I just said?”
~
You sighed, fixing a strand of your hair as you looked at yourself in the mirror—smacking your lips together to spread the gloss you had just reapplied.
You pushed the heavy bathroom door, sighing once it closed behind you–the school hallway staring back at you. You could faintly hear music playing from behind the closed doors, but murmurs from a nearby corridor caught your attention.
“Did you hear?” Mr. Arnold fiddled with his hat, twisting the material between his fingers.
“Hear what?” You recognised Mrs. Gilbert–the drama teacher, she was fixing the sleeve of her sparkling dress before a content smile appeared on her lips.
“They found him,” now they had your full attention. Head spiking up like a cat, and breath catching in your throat.
“The Byers boy?” She whispered, the smile getting whipped off her features.
“Yes,” Mr. Arnold had a grim look in his eyes as he stared down at his shoes. “They found his body at Sattler Quarry about an hour ago… Poor kid drowned himself.”
Your shoulders tensed and you felt your ears ring
No.
No, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.
Will, the shy boy you babysitted a few times.
Will, the quiet one with a mind of gold and an ever growing imagination. The one who came up with creatures, monsters and wizards D and D magazines and Eddie’s campaigns could only be envious about.
Your body hit the back of the lockers, and you could only hope that Mrs. Gilbert and Mr. Arnold didn’t hear the thud that accompanied the movement. Head spinning and heart unstoppably racing as you tried to tame the buzz in your head. You couldn’t hear anything, an uncontrollable numbness hitting you as your fist clenched the material of your dress.
Why?
Why had a boy full of life like Will had to meet his end in such a way?
What about Dustin? Did he already know?
Your heart only shattered into more pieces as you thought of him.
You had to tell Eddie.
You walked back into the gym, the air feeling stuffy again and the music barely hitting your numbbed ears. Seeing everyone so full of life made you sick to your stomach. All these people who didn’t even care that he had gone missing, and now they would wake up tomorrow morning with the news of his death, and move on with the rest of their lives as if nothing happened.
It didn’t take you long to find Eddie in the crowd. He was a few meters away from the door, in a corner talking to—your brother?
He had a large frown on his features, and your brother was waving his hands around frantically like he did when he got frustrated. You watched as Eddie groaned, a hand flying up to his hair as he tried to reason whatever argument your brother had thrown.
You moved faster than your mind registered, feet gliding over the polished ground of the gymnasium. Something in you wanted to save Eddie from presumingly a horrid conversation with the gremlin that you were cruelly related to.
You were about to go through the last small group of people, you could clearly see them from your spot in between the dancing bodies—and Steve’s voice became clearer over the fading music.
“No-no you can’t tell her anything! What about me? What about Nancy?”
What the fuck was that suppose to mean?
“Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Look, I’ll pay you double, we continue the deal like it was, you continue to date her, and we can just forget this whole conversation happened, okay?”
You stopped in your tracks.
Steve’s writing suddenly became clear,
your worst assumptions were true.
Eddie was paid to date you,
And had been since the start.
#quartermaster munson 🫧#10 things i hate about you#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson x you#Eddie Munson x y/n#Eddie Munson imagine#Eddie Munson fan ficion#stranger things fan fiction#stranger things imagine#harrington! reader#Steve Harrington
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youtube
Q-Bert and his children
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James Bond x Archer incorrect quotes
#007 fest 2024#station atlantic#james bond#archer#quartermaster#vesper lynd#incorrect quotes#my stuff
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CCGC Sprites Part 2: Electric Boogaloo
#camp camp#campcamp#camp camp cameron#camp camp gwen#camp camp jasper#camp camp quartermaster#cc erin#cc jermy#cc vera#edward pikeman#i don't think i can tag every character in this#;-;#camp camp game concept#cc tabii#cc sasha#cc ainsley
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Muphit, Felted Shambler
Creatures of strange forms linger in the soft spots where the Shadowfell and the Feywild both spill into the material plane at once. These places are like overripe fruit, sweet and aromatic yet lingering on the precipice of decay. Some dark entity may have hoped these locales would disgorge lethal abominations upon the world. They were half right. The two forces didn't merge, they cancelled each other out. The residue of this reaction did form living creatures, all seemingly powerful yet ultimately ineffective. They were, in essence, magic and nature's cruelest and most poorly-workshopped joke. The Muphits.
The Felted Shambler is one such creature. It is a vaguely frog-shaped humanoid, standing approximately 3 feet tall. Its outer skin is a felt-like mass of packed fibers that hold moisture and resist fire. Triangular growths of this material sprout from its neck and various patches on the limbs. They can be green, blue, red, or purple.
Born of the merging of the wild spirit of buffoonery and the essence of assassination, the Felted Shambler perceives all humanoids as its contracted targets, both in terms of entertainment and extralegal assassination.
As such, so long as it is observed the Felted Shambler is compelled to act out comedic sketches, songs and dance routines. It will do so with the assistance of other muphits if they are available.
The moment the shambler is no longer being watched by a sapient humanoid being, it immediately lunges for the nearest person with intent to strangle. If it falls into a person's field of view while lunging it will immediately snap back into comedic behavior. If it continues to be unseen, it will grasp its target's neck and begin to choke.
At this point, observing the creature will not deter it from using its unnatural strength. Fortunately, the felt shambler's strength is only unnatural in that it exists at all. Otherwise, its grip strength is exactly what is expected from damp living felt: 1/16th that of a human infant.
This will continue, with the creature making increasingly louder and more frustrated grunts of effort, until it tuckers itself out (usually 1-2 minutes) or the 'victim' makes eye contact for 2-3 seconds. In either case the shambler becomes visibly uncomfortable and retreats while doing improv.
Quartermaster's Guide to the Creatures of Xarthana, pg 77
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Prompt: Kermit the Frog in Stranger Things
#short story#microfiction#worldbuilding#parody#muppets#kermit the frog#unreality#midjourney v6#generative art#ai artwork#public domain art#public domain#free art#xarthana#quartermaster
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Part I, Part II
#skyfall#007#q#moneypenny#eve moneypenny#m#james bond#daniel craig#craig!bond#craig bond#00q#incorrect quotes#incorrect james bond#incorrect james bond quotes#tis i#ben wishaw#q james bond#m james bond#judi dench#silva#raoul silva#tiago rodriguez#javier bardem#naomie harris#miss moneypenny#olivia mansfield#quartermaster
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Gonna miss these three
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