#things4

[itscusmi6]

𖥔 Will Byers as god of upside down ⋆｡˚

[frodobagginsfluffyhair]

why twitter why u must hurt me like this

[blackbirdart]

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you get paired with Eddie Munson for your ceramics final.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 cheerleader!reader 𖦹 eddie calls reader "princess" and "sweet thing" 𖦹 angst for one microsecond 𖦹 closest thing you will get to enemies to lovers from me 𖦹 jason carver. you have been warned 𖦹 im sorry if your name is allie 𖦹 im in love with this fic 𖦹 i actually love the way this came out 𖦹 i did not proofread this⎝(ˊ0ˋ)⎠

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 3.2k

You hear someone shout. Something about "sheep," and you immediately know who it is. Still, you turn your head to see the person staring at you.

"Oh," He scoffs, "And their leader stares directly at me! Hey, princess! Was there something you needed? Or were you just staring at the freak again?"

You don't answer, turning back to your lunch.

"Yep, that's what I thought!" He yells.

Then, Carver stands up, "Leave her alone!" He yells.

Eddie smirks, "Princess needs her knight in shining armor to save her?" He mockingly croons.

Ignoring Eddie, you look to Carver, "Jason, just—" You take a deep breath, "Just sit down. Leave him alone."

Jason scoffs, "He's picking on you, babe."

"First, don't call me babe. You hear me?" Jason nods, "Second, sit down."

For once in his life, Jason listens.

Eddie smiles in victory, knowing he got you riled up. Even happier knowing Carver got told off.

You walked into fourth period late and sighed upon seeing the only open seat. Silently, you sit next to him. You hear him groan, and you don't need to look to know he's rolling his eyes.

The teacher drones on about the subject, and Eddie watches as you diligently take notes. Your pen's ink is sparkly and blue; he internally scoffs. 

The teacher mentions the words: "Final project." Eddie sighs, and you light up. He despises how happy you look.

Ms. Ronette mentions that this will be a partner project, and this time, you groan. None of your friends are in this class.

Then, she says that you will be working with your seat partner. There's an eruption of both glee and gloom. Some people are indifferent. You're hoping that's how Eddie feels, but you know he's pissed. You and Eddie look at each other, and you offer a hopeful smile. He scowls in return.

As soon as the bell rings, Eddie is out the door. You chase after him.

"Eddie! Wait!" He stops, and you catch your breath, "You would think all that cheering would make it easier for me to breathe after running for five seconds," You laugh. Eddie does not, "Just... get on with it."

You frown, "When should we meet to work on the project? I'm free today after five." You offer.

"I have Hellfire," He keeps walking.

Taking long strides to keep up with him, you continued, "I can wait. How long does it usually run?"

"'Till six, if we're lucky."

"Oh, well, I can sit in." You suggest with a smile, "It doesn't sound all that bad."

He hates how genuine you sound.

"Fine. But," Eddie stops to turn at you, "Absolutely no mocking or making fun of it. Understand?"

You nod.

"Sorry that you have to spend time with the freak," One of the girls on the team says in the locker room.

You shrug, "Y'know, maybe you should give him a chance. He doesn't seem horrible."

"I hear he sacrifices to the Devil." She whispers.

"Oh, I think that's just rumors," You deny the accusation thrown at him. You never liked rumors.

Walking into Hellfire was scary. You weren't sure what to expect, and Allie definitely got into your head with the whole sacrificing thing. She even told you he might lure you into a trap and sacrifice you. You didn't believe it rationally. But, your heart beats as you knock.

"Enter." You hear Eddie say. He's sitting on a throne and looks so in his element.

Nobody greets you, and you weren't expecting them to. Still, it would have been nice.

You pull out your notebook and begin sketching your final project.

Eventually, you give up on the sketch to listen in on the game. It's pretty interesting. There are trolls and elves, and you hear the word merfolk at one point. That piques your interest, and you begin drawing a mermaid. She's demonic and cryptic and freaky, and you smile. She's beautiful.

Everyone's packing up, and you're glad. All you want to do is work on your project.

"We can go to my house?" You propose.

"I smell like weed."

"And?"

He tries to hide his smirk—it doesn't work.

Once you're at your house, you grab your basket of albums.

"Pick one," You smile.

"What do you even have in there? Pop music?"

You shrug, "I think I'll surprise you."

"What, you have one Bowie album in there? Think that'll impress me?"

Why was he being so difficult?

"I'm just trying to put on some music to make this more bearable."

He scoffs, "Fine. Give it to me." 

You hand him the basket, and he's surprisingly careful with it.

His eyebrows raise as he flicks through your collection, "Kill 'Em All?"

You smile. You surprised Eddie Munson.

With the music playing, you pull out your textbook.

"Who do you want to study?"

"I don't care." He shrugs.

"Look, Munson," You cross your arms, "I care about my grade in this class. I know you probably don't, but I do."

"Of course, everything is about you," He copies your movements, crossing his arms back, "I'll have you know, I immensely enjoy pottery."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence falls over the two of you.

"Let's go with Beatrice Wood." He murmurs.

"That's who I was thinking, actually," You whisper, pulling out your sketch.

"Guess we have something in common." He snorts like it's the funniest thing in the world.

"Guess we do."

And with that, you set out on your research.

"It's getting late," You yawn, "Did you want dinner?"

Eddie wants to say no but also doesn't want box mac n cheese again. Ultimately, his guilt wins, "Nah, don't worry about it."

"Nonsense," You dismiss him, "I'll make something."

"Are you sure?" He's growing anxious by the second.

"I'm positive," You reassure.

"You live in a trailer, right?" You ask, blowing on your food.

He nods, "What about it?"

You can tell his defenses are up.

"Just wondering," You shrug.

"You gonna tell all your friends? Make fun of the trailer park freak?"

You furrow your brows, "No. I don't enjoy making fun of people, and I certainly wouldn't make fun of you. If anything, I would make fun of Allie." You state.

"Why? I'm, like, prime 'picking-on' material."

You shake your head, "It's not nice to make fun of someone for where they live or what they do for fun. Allie is the worst if I'm being honest. She's always talking about how much she loves tennis. She's not even good at it."

Eddie laughs, "Didn't you just say it's not nice to make fun of someone's hobbies?"

You smile sheepishly, "Yeah, but Allie's a bitch."

Eddie gawps, "I've never heard you swear."

"I don't do it often," You shrug.

"You should do it more."

Eddie leaves, and you tell him to drive home safely. Maybe working on this project won't be as bad as you thought.

"How was working with Munson?" Allie asks you the next day.

You roll your eyes, "You were right!" Your smile was saccharine sweet, "He tried to sacrifice me!"

Allie gasps, "Really!?"

"No, idiot," You huff, "We actually got a lot done. And then we had dinner."

"Who'd you have dinner with?"

"Carver." You greeted.

"Tell me you didn't have dinner with the freak. What did you eat?" He laughs, "Box mac and cheese?"

You cross your arms, "It's not nice to make fun of people, Jason." With that, you walked away.

"Imagine being named Jason," You murmur, sitting beside Eddie. He laughs, and a sense of pride settles in you.

"Imagine your last name being Carver," He whispers. You giggle, and Eddie is sure it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard. Then, he remembers he's supposed to hate you.

"So..." You're elbows deep in clay at this point, "What exactly is 'Dungeons and Dragons?'"

Eddie is surprised, "Um," He swallows the lump in his throat, "It's an RPG."

"I—" You sigh as your pot collapses again, "I'm not sure what that is." You throw the clay again.

"Role-playing game. I'm the Dungeon Master or DM."

"So you're character is... Dungeon Master?"

He smiles, "Not quite."

"Why do I feel like you're making fun of me?"

"I'm not making fun of you, princess. Promise."

"Stop calling me that," You whisper, though you're smiling.

"Why? You're the princess of Hawkins High."

"No, I'm not."

"Mhm," He nods theatrically, "Sure."

It makes you laugh, and you don't care about the stares you receive from your peers.

"So... You wanna come to my place to work on the project?" Eddie asks at the end of the period.

"Can you drive me?" You ask, hopefully.

"Sure can, princess."

You try to disguise your smile as a scowl at the name. Eddie can see right through you.

"Lots of mugs..." You say, looking around Eddie's trailer.

"My Uncle Wayne's." He answers. "Anyway, this was to my room!" He declares like he's on a journey. You giggle, and Eddie melts again.

Eddie's giddy. He always is when he's thinking about you. Your perfume and that lip gloss that's been used so much that the label has begun to rub off.

"I'm running out," You pout as you stare at the tube of gloss, and Eddie thinks he would buy you all the lip glosses in the world if it meant you would smile at him.

"Hey, shiny lips," You roll your eyes with a smile, "Time to work on this project."

You groan and clutch your chest like you've been mortally wounded. Eddie laughs at your antics.

You settle on his bed, books out, when he asks, "Am I what they chalk me up to be? Have I freaked you out?"

You swear there's almost a sadness in his tone, "No. You haven't tried sacrificing me."

"Yet." He adds, knowing it will make you giggle again. God, he loves that sound. He decides it's the worst thing on the planet because how can you be so lovely and sweet and laugh like that and then expect him not to fall for you? It's cruel, truly.

"Did you draw this?" He nudges the drawing of the mermaid.

"Oh, yeah," You grow warm.

"It's pretty fucking sick," Eddie says as he pulls the drawing out.

"I drew it when you were playing Dungeons and Dragons. Someone said something about merfolk, so I drew one." You shrugged, "It's not that good—"

"Oh, shut up. It's good. Amazing, even."

"You don't have to lie," You murmur.

"I'm not lying! How do I prove that to you?"

You think momentarily, "Hang it on your wall, then I'll believe you."

Eddie smiles and grabs a pin. He hangs it next to his guitar.

You gawp at him.

"What?"

"You actually hung it!"

"Of course I did! It's amazing!"

"Thank you." 

"Don't mention it, princess."

"Stop calling me princess, Eddie," You cross your arms.

"Stop being a princess, and I'll stop calling you princess." He jests.

You find yourself not wanting to leave, "So..." You look around his room, "You sell?"

Eddie huffs a laugh, "Did the princess wanna buy something?"

Your eyes go wide, "No! No, I was just wondering."

"Have you ever smoked weed?"

You nod, "I like smoking. It makes me laugh a lot."

And then, Eddie decides he needs to get you high.

"You wanna smoke?"

"I don't have any money," You shake your head.

"C'mon, it's on me. I've got my own stash," He opens a drawer and pulls out a pre-rolled joint.

You couldn't stop laughing, and Eddie adored it. Your eyes got smaller while the slopes of your cheeks grew. He was sure he was in the presence of an angel.

"And then," You laughed, "She vomited! All over her white clothes!"

"You really do hate this Allie girl, don't you?"

You throw your head back and groan, "She's the worst, Munson. All she does is talk and talk and talk about how much she loves tennis and her boyfriend, and her voice is so nasally. It gives me a migraine."

"Who's her boyfriend?" Eddie asks, intrigued.

"Just... a guy."

"Oh!" He snaps, "It's Gonzalez, right? Michael?"

"Yeah. Can we talk about something else?"

Eddie was quiet, and you were worried you scared him off with your strong reaction.

"Let's talk about Beatrice Wood."

You smiled kindly, glad he didn't pry. You received a smile back from Eddie Munson for the first time, and it felt like you won the lottery.

Eddie decided he hated you. He hated you and your cute face and your stupid laugh. He despised you. You freaky-art-making bubbly cheerleader.

And there he was. Nothing more than an anomaly who reeked of weed and cigarettes. A nerd-game-playing, grumpy freak.

And the worst part? He was falling for you. Hard. Oh, he loathed you because he knew you would never feel the same way.

You were too good for him. Too pretty, too nice, too lovely.

"You weren't here yesterday," You grab some slip with a frown as Eddie sits across from you. 

"Yeah... I was at home."

"I saw you during passing period, Eddie. Where were you?"

Eddie sighed, "I was dealing."

"The whole period?" You threw your slab a little too hard. Eddie flinched.

"Yeah."

You solemnly nodded. There had to be some reason Eddie ditched. Maybe it was you. His whole M.O. was "hating cheerleaders," so would it be that ridiculous to assume he didn't like you? It would, you decided. He liked you. He spent so much time with you. Sure, it was to work on the project, but there was no doubt in your mind that you spent more time together than anyone should during a research project. 

"Whatcha thinking about, princess?" He smirks.

You sigh, "Things I shouldn't be thinking about."

"Like... me?" He hopes he doesn't come off as desperate.

"Maybe," You smile, "Maybe not."

"That wasn't a no."

"It certainly wasn't," You confirm.

Eddie beams.

"You've been spending a lot of time with the freak," Jason says during lunch.

"His name is Eddie, Carver. He's a person." You cross your arms, then mutter: "Unlike you."

"What did you just say?" He asks.

"Nothing, Jason," You glare at him.

"Look," He barks out a humorless laugh, "I don't get why you jump to defend him. He's a freak. He's probably got a sock at home with your name on it. He's not good for you."

And that's when you snap, "Oh, like you know what's good for me! Do you even know my favorite color? Because I'm sure he does!"

Carver has nothing to say to that, and he leaves you alone.

"I am so sick of Carver," You moan in the locker room.

"So am I, if I'm being honest," Allie concurs.

"I literally was not talking to you, Allie." You huff out.

"Jeez," She murmurs, "No need to be so rude."

"Actually, Allie," You turn to her, "There is."

You walk into the drama room, and Eddie greets you. He makes everyone else welcome you. It's a nice feeling that makes you warm inside.

"Sorry it ran late, princess," Eddie apologizes as you sit in his van.

"It's okay," You reassure, "I drew some more."

Eddie nearly slams on the breaks, "You did?"

"I did," You gleam like the star you are.

"Can't wait to see them."

"Sweet thing, these are amazing." Eddie isn't smiling, and it would worry you if not for his tone. He's so sincere, and you melt. "What if you draw something for me?" He proposes.

"I will," You promise, "After we work."

"Take as much time as you need, princess."

You don't understand why everyone seems to despise him. Eddie's a good kid with a kind heart, and you really enjoy him and his company. He's funny and stupid and cute. Yes, Eddie Munson is cute, attractive, pretty, whatever word you want. And you're surprised you didn't notice it sooner, but as he sits on his bed, tongue poking out ever so slightly as he reads, you can't deny how attracted you are to him.

"Allie keeps talking about Michael," You mention. It was out of nowhere. You were both silently writing. Eddie looks up at you, and you look... wounded. 

"Yeah? What about him?"

You huff, "About how he's so great."

Eddie frowns, "Look, sweet thing, I know you don't like Allie, but why are you so upset she's with Michael?"

You look like you're about to burst into tears, and Eddie is scared he's said the wrong thing.

"Because I should be with him." You put and cross your arms.

"You like Michael?" Eddie is surprised because Gonzalez is a douchebag, and you're a sweet angel.

"Not anymore," You harshly wipe at your eyes, "We used to date."

Eddie's heart frowns, "And Allie...?"

"Took him from me!" You sniffle; Eddie's heart breaks.

"I sound childish," You determine, trying to blink back the onslaught of tears approaching, "But she just took him, and she doesn't even care about how I felt. Y'know she told me you were going to lure me and sacrifice me? How cruel is that?"

"That's... wow. Allie really is a bitch, isn't she?"

You solemnly nod as Eddie wraps his arm around you. You soften into it.

"For what it's worth, Michael's an idiot." He mutters into your hair.

"An idiot?" you look up at him, eyes all big and watery.

"An idiot to lose a girl like you."

"Can I kiss you?" You realize after you've said it that you sound lame, but as Eddie ducks down to place his lips on yours, you couldn't care less.

You dial your home's number into the phone, twisting the cord around your finger, kiss-bitten lips, and a wide grin.

The phone rings once, twice, three times, then your mother answers.

"Y/l residence."

"Mom," You all but gush, "I'm gonna stay over at a friend's tonight."

"Y/n? Who?" 

"My friend Eddie," You're quiet, testing the waters.

"Eddie?" You can hear the apprehension in her voice, "A boy?"

"Yes, mom. A boy."

"Honey," She sighs, "You need to wash your uniform. I trust you, but..."

"But?"

"I don't want you staying over at his house. I don't even know him."

You shake your head at an excited Eddie, whose mood sours.

"Okay. I'll see you in a little." You sigh, hanging up.

"No dice?" Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

"No dice." You confirm, and you both frown.

"Bye, princess," Eddie says as you open the door to the van

"Bye, Eddie," You smile, happy with the outcome of your study sesh.

You scream into your pillow that night, murmuring: "I kissed him." Over and over, still shocked.

"I forgot to give this to you yesterday," You push a piece of folded paper toward Eddie.

"What is it?"

"Just... open the paper."

You've drawn a cute bunny. Eddie smiles, "For me?"

"For you."

"This is so metal, babe."

You laugh, "Are you sure about that? It's a bunny."

"Most metal thing ever." He affirms.

The next day after class, Eddie shows you a tattoo of a small bunny on his arm, right next to the bats.

"You—" You point at his arm, "You got it tattooed?"

"'Course I did, sweet thing. Most metal thing ever, remember?"

You stumble into the cafeteria with Eddie.

"Oh my god!" You laugh, and all eyes are on you. You, the princess of Hawkins High, are laughing—not at, but with Eddie Munson. 

Eddie Munson, the school freak.

"I cannot believe you got it tattooed."

"Believe it, babe."

And, for the first time, you walk right past the "popular kids" table. You sit next to Eddie, unbothered.

thank you for reading, lovely ₊˚.༄

mutuals ଘ(੭ ˊᵕˋ)੭*༺ ♡‧₊˚ @forourmoons @lucasnclair @vampieteeth @sw34terw34ther @imshiningjustforyou @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @maddipoof @meredarling @masivechaos

[secrettellerssociety]

Vecna being as evil as ever lol. I love him.

[munsonstyle]

eddie munson art 🦇 loved drawing him so much. definitely making more 🕸️

[picturebird]

Dr Brenner: You speak of monsters…superheroes…those are the things of myth and fairy tales—

What the hell is this then?

[reshkaarts]

Besties

[foreverautumn89]

[maxstecc]

yesterday “flight of icarus” arrived and i just finished reading all of it. i don’t understand how people hate this book, it’s amazing. it’s what i have imagined for 18year old eddie munson. it was perfect! it brought so much backstory of who he is! i love it i def recommend. i just didn’t like paige, but that could be cuz im jealous lmao

[frodobagginsfluffyhair]

sad will cause why not

[etherealwanderings]

Maybe it's time to understand that during a promo, you will get no explicit spoiler ! People of the set talking about mileven and byler is just them doing their job aka keeping the hype for S5 alive. They aren't here to tell you which of them is endgame since S4 literally ended with an ambiguous note for mileven & byler on purpose. If you keep worrying too much about what Neflix likes or says, you will end up hurting yourself cause just for your information, Netflix doesn't give a fuck about any ship. Netflix wants money. If Byler brings Netflix money then Netflix will talk about it a lot and if mileven brings Netflix lots of money they will promote it a lot and if that love triangle is disturbing you, Netflix will use that to get your attention. None of that is a proof that your ship is endgame or bones. The only thing that matters is the show and what you see in it. The rest is just sayings and likes that don't have any purpose except making you ask yourself questions to keep the show alive in your mind. Trust your reading skills guys.

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you get butterflies upon meeting the town freak.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 fem!reader (she/her prns) 𖦹 college!au 𖦹 fluffy. so fluffy 𖦹 modern!au (reader found corroded coffin on spotify or something) 𖦹 chrissy is alive and well and gay as hell! 𖦹 i did not proofread this⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 4.6k (wow. longest fic i ever wrote. cray cray)

Walking down the seemingly never-ending hallway, you curse yourself. Being 5 minutes late to your first class wouldn't leave an excellent impression. You cringe when the door creaks open—squeezing your eyes shut and pursing your lips. You beeline to the back of the class and take the first empty seat you see. The boy sitting beside the vacant one gives you a tight-lipped smile. He has big brown eyes and long curly hair. 

'He's cute,' You think to yourself. 

Two weeks later, you sit in the building's lobby. Eddie almost does a spit-take when you tell him your first impression of him. "I swear!" You protest—eyes squinted from laughter, "I thought you had to be James Hetfield's son. Distant cousin, at least."

"It's just because of the clothes," He laughs.

"And the hair! The hair!"

He laughs more; you join him.

Not long after you've met, the two of you drive around in his van blasting music, singing, talking, the whole nine yards. Soon, you're at his trailer, talking to this famed "Wayne" Eddie always speaks so highly about. He doesn't say much before leaving, and you're worried he doesn't like you.

"He likes you just fine, lovely," He reassures. Your stomach flips at the nickname. Lovely, he's never called you that before. 

You nod, butterflies swarming in your stomach.

"What made you move here?" He asks, expertly rolling.

You're startled by the question, "Wanted to get away from my place. Family sucks sometimes," You shrug.

"So you decided to come to the rundown, shoddy town of Hawkins, Indiana?"

"Yeah."

"And then you befriended the town freak?"

You nod.

He shakes his head, "It seems like you're doing life all wrong."

"I think I'm doing it all right," You argue, "I met this boy, and we became friends. He's, like, the best friend I've ever had." You smile, looking at your hands as they rest in your lap.

Eddie smiles when he sees your eyes wandering around his room. He grins when you gawk at his homemade Corroded Coffin poster.

"You have a Corroded Coffin poster?" You practically squealed.

Eddie was confused, "Yes?"

Your head whips around so fast Eddie's worried you've injured yourself, "So you know who they are?" You were practically gushing.

"Yes?"

"Oh my God," Your words are rushed, "I love their music. I can't find any posters or shirts or anything. Where did you find this?"

Eddie can't stop his heart from overflowing, and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, "C'mon. I have something to show you. It's in the car."

Excitedly, you skip through his house and up to his van. He searches through the back to find a CD. He's giddy as he hops in, signaling you to do the same. Once you're in the bucket of bolts, as you like to call it—Eddie hates the nickname with a passion. Eddie starts the van, slotting the CD into the player.

"This is, uh," You hear a voice come through, "Our first recording. Hope it sounds good. This is Eddie Munson. From Corroded Coffin," He adds, "For record purposes—or something like that. I'm really fucking high right now."

Your jaw is on the floor, "You're lying."

"I'm not lying!" He argues.

"I genuinely don't believe that my best friend is part of the band Corroded Coffin."

"Baby, not only am I part of it, I'm the lead guitarist."

The nickname, everything about this, has the butterflies fighting their way up your ribcage. You won't let them win.

"If I ever got to see you perform," You say, exhaling smoke, "I would've thrown my bra on the stage."

Eddie laughs, hoping you don't see how red his face is getting. "You wouldn't have," He disputes, "I'm just some guy."

"Or my panties," You ignore him, "Or any article of clothing." 

"Again, babe, I'm just some guy." He repeats.

"Some awesome guy," You correct, "Who is sexy and can play the guitar."

Eddie sits up to stare at you, "Did you just call me sexy?"

Your eyes are saucers, "No. No, I didn't. I would never say anything like that."

A smirk crawls up Eddie's face, settling on his lips. It's a good look, you think, before shaking your head. Trying to get rid of the thought like your mind was an etch-a-sketch. 

"What are you thinking about, pretty thing?"

The butterflies are in your throat, and you're unsure how long you can contain them. "Nothing," You respond, bringing the joint back to your lips.

He snatches it away from you, and you whine. He frowns at you, mocking sympathy, "You can have it back when you tell me what you're thinking."

Finally, you sit up, "'M thinking about how I want to smoke some more." You huff, crossing your arms.

"C'mon, babe," He pleads, batting his big brown eyes.

The butterflies are in your mouth, and you hold your breath, willing them not to escape. "I have to leave," Your words are rushed as you stand up, frantically looking for your sweater.

Eddie watches in amusement, "Looking for something?" He holds the sweater out of your reach.

"Whatever, I don't even need my sweater." You huff, going to storm out of his home.

Eddie stops you, "Shit, baby. I didn't know I upset you that much. I'm sorry." He frowns, and it feels sincere. So many things feel sincere with him, and it hurts your heart. You accept his apology and walk back to his room. He snuggles up with you in the tiny bed. It's nice when you lay with Eddie. His hands explore your body—they trace over your stretch marks and scars, rub up and down your thigh, and grab at your stomach. He doesn't touch you like a typical boy would. He's not lustful; he's gentle. He has no ulterior motives—he just wants to be close to you. He squeezes your hip, and you sigh pleasantly—a butterfly escapes. You let him know that he is bliss through a simple sigh, and Eddie takes that information and runs with it. He squeezes your hip again. You hum.

"Nice," You tiredly whisper. 

Eddie can't help his grin, "Yeah? Feels nice, baby?"

You nod lazily, "Like when you call me baby."

Yeah, you're tired—tired and high.

He hums in response, and you fall asleep in his arms.

Eddie can definitely get used to this, he thinks. He finds you lovely like this. You have a little bit of drool on the corner of your mouth, and you'll totally freak out about it later. He's not sure why. All he knows is that you'll pitch a playful fit if he pokes fun at you. You'll do that thing where you get all pouty, and Eddie just wants to kiss your lips, which is something he cannot do. So he'll stick with not making fun of you. 

You're softly snoring, and Eddie can't help but think that this is domesticity—this is what it's all about. For the first time, Eddie knows what he wants. He wants to wake up to you clinging onto him like a koala, and he wants to wipe away your drool, and he wants to get up and make breakfast for you. 

"Baby," He whispers. It's gentle, like he doesn't want to wake you up, but he knows you'll be upset if you're late to class. You groan and murmur: "Five more minutes."

He wants to say okay, but it's eight o'clock, and you need to leave in twenty minutes. 

"Baby," He repeats, softly shaking you, "It's eight."

You nearly spring up, "Eight?!" You ask, exasperated. "Eddie," You whine, "Why didn't you get me up earlier?"

"Because last night you told me to get you up at eight," He shrugs.

"I said eight at the latest, Eddie." You frown and cross your arms. And then you feel it—there's drool on your face. You furiously wipe at the side of your mouth, growing more embarrassed by the moment. You get up, grab your clothes, and head to the bathroom. It's pretty cramped in there; you make do. You splash cold water on your face, grab your toothbrush, and brush your teeth for undoubtedly shorter than two minutes. Your fingers comb through your hair, and you call it a day. 

You lean against Eddie's doorframe, "Funny seeing you here." You smirk, and then your face heats up when you realize he's shirtless. Then, you can't stop staring at the plethora of scars that litter his body. What the fuck?

"Like what you see?" He asks, flashing his teeth. Then, his expression drops as he realizes that you're not enjoying the view; you're wondering what the fuck happened to him.

"I'll tell you in the car," He mutters. This is it—this is the end of any kind of chance he had with you. You won't believe him. Hell, he didn't believe it for a while. 

On the drive to school, he tells you. He tells you everything, keeping his eyes on the road. He's too scared of your rejection. At the end of the story, all you have to say is: "I believe you, Eddie."

You're parked when he speaks next, and the three minutes in between feel like torture.

"You do?"

You can't make out his expression, "Eddie," You laugh out, though nothing's humorous, "If you told me the loch ness monster was real, I would believe you."

"Babe, this is far weirder than the loch ness monster. There is another dimension, baby."

The nickname has another butterfly escaping from your mouth as you smile. 

"What's got you so happy?" He laughs as you try to hide your grin.

"Nothing," You shake your head. Eddie doesn't believe you. 

"Are you happy that I almost died? What is it?"

You turn sheepish, fidgeting with your rings, "You called me baby again."

"You're cute as a button."

Class is spent yawning and passing notes to one another. Eddie's good at drawing, and he draws you amazing, stupid doodles. You keep every single one. They are hung up all over your room.

"Worst room decor ever," Eddie mumbles as he enters your room.

"Best room decor ever," You correct him.

"I can't believe you kept all of this. All of my shitty drawings."

You furrow your brows, "They're not shitty, Eddie. Don't say things like that."

He laughs at your sincerity, "Okay, baby, I won't."

There's no way he's not saying it just to fluster you at this point.

"Stop," You whine.

"Stop what, baby?"

You huff as you plop onto your bed, "Calling me baby."

"I thought you liked it when I called you baby, baby."

"I like it when you do it sincerely, Edison."

"Edison?!" His brows jump, "Isn't that the dude who invented the lightbulb?"

"All those years in high school did pay off!" You clap, "Good job Eddie!"

He scowls, "Funny. Real amusing," You giggle, "Yeah, keep it up. Keep laughing at the freak."

You pout, "I'm not laughing at the freak. I'm laughing at the smart boy I met on my first day of college."

Fuck, Eddie wants to kiss the pout right off of you. He settles for sitting next to you.

"Don't pout, baby," He rests his head on your shoulder, "I'm not worth pouting over."

This time, you actually pout, "What do you mean 'not worth pouting over?'"

"C'mon, sweetheart," He sighs, "I'm not worth much in general."

"You are worth so much, Eddie. And I'm not just saying that. You mean so much to me. You think I'd pin anyone's drawings up all around my room?"

He hides his head further into your neck.

"Hey, don't get all shy on me now." You chide, though the words have no backbone to them. 

"'M getting shy on you. Not gonna stop until you're done being sappy." He murmurs into your neck—his hair is tickling you. You cant find it in you to care. 

"C'mon," You whine, "Show me your pretty face, Eddie." 

"No." He nuzzles further into your neck, "Called me pretty." He's soft-spoken—it's an intimate moment. An intimate moment that's unlike any other you've had. A boy is on your shoulder, and you built up the courage to call him pretty. 

"You are pretty," You affirm.

"So are you."

You smile, butterflies growing stronger.

"You want to have lunch together?" Your voice crackles over the phone, and Eddie is unable to make out what you're saying. 

"Sorry, what was that, sweetheart?"

"Edward," You state, "Would you like to get lunch with me?"

He frowns, "I can't."

You frown, too, "Why not?"

"An old friend is in town. I'm getting lunch with her at the best diner ever." He explains

"Oh!" 

"Yeah, I'm really excited to see her." He continues.

"Okay, okay, we get it. You can't wait to see your BFF." Your tone is slightly more bitter than you intend, and Eddie picks up on it.

"What? You jealous?" He teases.

"Furthest thing from it, Edwin."

"Edwin?!"

"Goodbye, Edmund." You hang up. 

Dejected, you walk to the cafeteria.

It's only been a year since Eddie last saw Chrissy, and he's missed her like hell. Back in the little diner, they laugh over nothing and everything.

He gets a call in the middle of Chrissy telling a story.

"Baby?" He answers, and Chrissy lights up. 

"Can you get me something? A burger, maybe?"

And, of course, he'll bring you a burger. He'd bring you the sun and the moon if it meant he could see you smile.

"No," He declares, "No, I will not do that."

"Did I do something, Eddie? Sorry for calling you Edwin earlier. If that's what you're upset about."

"I'm joking around, baby. I'll definitely bring back a burger for you. I'll get you all the burgers you want. I'll fill my van with burgers, even." He twirls his hair. Chrissy can't stop grinning.

"Love you forever, Eds. I gotta go now."

"Why?" Eddie wines.

"'Cause there's a really cute boy walking towards me. Bye!"

And before he can respond, you've hung up.

"So..." Chrissy starts, "Who're you calling 'baby?'"

"Nobody," Eddie goes red, staring at his fries.

"C'mon, Eddie," She pleads, "I told you all about my girlfriend. Time to tell me about your partner."

"I'm not dating anybody, actually," Eddie frowns the slightest bit, "We're just friends."

"Okay, so," Chrisssy claps her hands together, "While I am here, I will be rolling out my master plan: Get Eddie Together With The Love of His Life. I'll figure out a way to shorten it."

Eddie's eyes widen, "Woah! Love of my life? A little too far, Chris."

"I saw that smile," She giggles, "Don't try and hide it from me."

"Reminder to self," You say, walking to class, "Just because he's cute does not mean he's interesting."

"Where's the pretty boy?"

You turn around to see Eddie jogging toward you. He holds a box that has your name written on it, next to it, a big heart.

"He was boring," You scoffed, "Wouldn't stop talking about baseball. Who even cares?"

Eddie throws his head back, "Exactly! Who fucking cares?! Not me, I'll tell you that much."

You laugh, going to snatch the box from his hands. "Mmm. Burbger."

“Burbger?” He laughs.

You nod, “Mhm.”

"Good burger," You sigh, "How come you've never taken me there? To the diner?" You clarify. 

"Never felt the need to," He shrugs, and it hurts your feelings. 

"Cool." 

He nods, oblivious to his hurtful words.

You don't drive home with Eddie for the first time in weeks. You know you're acting childish, but he really did hurt your feelings.

Eddie still doesn't think anything is wrong until you don't text him goodnight. You always say goodnight to him. 

'Baby,'

He texts you,

'I'm not sure what I did to hurt you, but I'm sorry.'

You don't answer, and his anxieties grow by the second.

What did he do?

"Eddie?" Chrissy croaks, "It's two in the morning." 

"It's actually two fifty-eight," He corrects.

"Eddie," She scolds, "You know I love you, but shut the fuck up and tell me why you called me."

"I kind of fucked up big time. A big ole fucky-wucky on my part, Chris."

"Eddie, stop speaking in riddles and tell me what's happening."

"She won't talk to me—she didn't say goodnight, she won't answer my texts, she didn't come home with me today," He rattles off.

"Woah, woah, woah cowboy." Chrissy sighs, "Do you have any clue why she might not have said goodnight?"

"Because I fucked up?" He asks.

"Obviously. Do you know why you fucked up?"

"No. I don't. I have not a clue, Chris." He sighs, "Not a clue."

"Okay. Unhelpful," Chrissy groans, "Recall today's events."

"I woke up at seven forty-six," He begins.

"I meant your interactions with her, dimwit."

"She asked if I wanted to have lunch," he begins recounting his day, "Then she asked for a burger. I gave her the burger, and she said it was delicious. She then asked me why I never took her to the diner, and I said I never felt the need to. That's it."

Chrissy rolls her eyes, sighing, "You told her you never felt the need to?"

Eddie senses he's made a big mistake, "...Yes?"

"You idiot. Obviously, this diner is special to you, right?"

Eddie rubs his hand over his face, "I told her it's the best diner ever."

"Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot! You are so incredibly foolish, Edward."

"I know," He groans, "I'm going to apologize now."

"Goodnight, Munson."

"Night, Cunningham."

You wake up in a haze. Sitting up, you make a mental note to never cry yourself to sleep again. The first thing you do is check your phone.

Eddie's text lights up your screen.

'Hey,' It beings, 'Sorry for saying I never felt the need to take you to the diner. It's a really special place for me. I don't go often because I need it to remain special. I need it to stay stuck in time. I've only ever gone with my friends from before you, but I'll take you soon. I promise.'

It doesn't come off the best, but you know what he means. You're new to his life, and he wants to keep the diner old.

'Thanks, Eds :) I forgive you,' You reply.

'See you at school,' You finish.

Eddie walks into the lobby with a wild grin, searching for you. You're on your phone, probably playing that stupid game he likes to make fun of.

Eddie pulls out the seat opposite yours. You look up and smile.

"You look like the Cheshire Cat," You smirk.

"He went... that way," He puts on a goofy voice, reciting the creepy cat.

"Who did?" You play along.

"The white rabbit."

You widen your eyes, "He did?"

"Who did?" He furrows his brows.

"The white rabbit," You chuckle.

He takes a deep inhale, "What rabbit?"

Laughing, you continue, "But you just said— oh dear."

Eddie stands up, extending his arm toward you, "Can you stand on your head?"

You giggle, taking his hand.

You grab lunch together. Eddie's not ready to take you to the diner, so you settle for the small pizza place next to campus. Eddie nearly inhales his food, and you laugh when he chokes on his soda. You feel an overwhelming sense of joy when it comes to him, and you know the butterflies are making their way out.

On the drive to his house, he taps along with a song you've just played, and you're bubbling with excitement that he just listened to music that wasn't metal. Let alone a piece you showed him.

"I could get used to your music," He pauses, inhales deeply, then continues. "I think."

You laugh—you're always laughing with him, it seems.

You find yourself on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, ready to watch Scream. Eddie plops down next to you when the movie starts. About five minutes in, he pretends to yawn and reaches his arm around your shoulder. You giggle, leaning into him, and the butterflies flap their wings rapidly. You fall asleep on Eddie's side.

"Lovebirds," You hear a voice boom, "Go to bed."

You groggily open your eyes and look up to, what seems to be, the voice of god. It's Wayne, you realize.

Eddie's face is bright red after his uncle's words register. 

'Lovebirds.'

You seem unaffected by the term; secretly, excitement bubbles in your stomach.

"Didn't I tell you to fall asleep in a bed? Not on my couch?"

"Sorry, Wayne," You mumble.

He pats you on the shoulder, "Just don't want you two to have back pains before you're supposed to."

"Thanks, Wayne," You murmur as you shuffle to Eddie's room.

"Of course," The man grumbles.

"Told you he likes you," Eddie mumbles into your hair as he presses a chaste kiss to your head.

"Kids in love," Wayne mutters, sitting on the couch.

Fucking midterms. You genuinely cannot stand them. You've been up late every night this week studying and want to bash your head in. You've barely had time to see Eddie outside of class, and it just makes everything ten times worse. You've talked to him over the phone, but nothing matched his touch. His warm, calloused hands would run up and down your arms when you were cold or up and down your sides when you lay together. You've missed his lingering kisses on your cheek and forehead.

You've also missed Wayne. You've come to understand how he shows love—just last week, he gave you your favorite candy, and you were gushing about it to Eddie.

Now, you sit in your room—the only light coming from your laptop, and the wrapper of Wayne's gift is crumpled on your desk's side. Your phone buzzes, and you smile at the stupid picture of Eddie that lights up your screen.

"Hello?" Eddie says in a goofy voice, "Hellooo?" He asks again.

"Hi," You respond with a giddy smile.

"Hi, I'm lookin' for a real pretty girl. She told me that this is her phone number. She's brilliant and sweet, and my uncle Wayne loves her."

"Yeah? Lookin' for her?"

"I sure am."

"I'll let her know in about an hour—when she finishes studying."

Eddie pouts, hoping you'll hear it, "Why?"

It doesn't go unnoticed, "'Cause she's gotta study."

"Booo!" He yells. You hang up.

"Hello?" You ask with a smile.

"Hi."

"Someone told me a very handsome guy was calling for me. Said he's got cool rings and can play guitar."

"Oh!" You can hear him chuckle, "I do recall that conversation."

"So," You take a deep breath, "What'd ya want to talk about?"

"Politics, the weather, the deal with the DMV, and how I hate my wife."

You laugh, "So I've got 90's stand-up comic Eddie on the line?"

"Sure do, sweetheart."

You fall asleep on the phone.

"Eds," You whisper.

He turns the music down, "Yes?"

"What if I fail?"

"Baby," He puts his hand on your thigh, and the butterflies won't stop flapping their wings, "You're not gonna fail. You've been studying all week. If anything, I'm going to fail."

You roll your eyes, "I told you you should've studied."

Eddie rolls his eyes back, snatching his hand away from you, "I told you the only way I was going to study unless it was with you."

"Oh, so this is my fault?"

"If I fail, it's your fault, sweetheart."

"How do you think you did?" Eddie finished long before you. Your whole body is filled with bubbling nerves.

"I don't know," You respond, not daring to look anywhere but forward, "I feel like I'm going to faint." You murmur.

"Okay, baby." Eddie grabs your shoulders and runs his hands up and down your arms, "Take a deep breath. In... and out."

You don't care that you might be blocking the hallway—the students can find a way around you. All that matters is Eddie is helping you calm down—his hands are on you, and his head is resting on yours.

"You feelin' a little better, baby?" He asks after a few minutes.

"Feelin' a lot better."

"I'm glad."

He kisses your shoulder, and you swoon.

"What's on your mind?" Eddie asks, bringing the joint to his mouth. It's a roach at this point—he still insists on smoking it.

"Nothing," You answer—he can tell you're lying. He says it, and you roll your eyes, "Eddie, I'm not lying."

"Seriously, babe." He sits up, "What's goin' on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"First off, rude." You cross your arms with a sad expression, "Second, nothing. I am literally thinking about what I'm going to have for dinner."

"Food. You're going to have food. Now, what are you actually thinking about?"

It's strange that Eddie is being so adamant about this. Usually, if you ask him to leave something alone, he'll leave it alone. It's as if he knows that you've got butterflies in every crevice of your body—that you like him—and he's trying to coax it out of you. You're unsure why.

"What are you thinking about?" You shoot back.

"Not fair. I asked you first." He pouts.

"And I asked you second." You shrug with a smug smirk.

"Yeah, so you should answer first. I should answer second." He reasons. 

"I'm thinking about a person," You begin, "A boy." It's all you supply.

"A boy?" Eddie asks, suddenly growing insecure. His crush on you isn't a new thing. He was sure he was in love with you the second you said he looked like James Hetfield. He would swear on his life that he liked you the second he saw you. 

"Yes, Edward, a boy. Okay, your turn. What're you thinking about?"

"Chrissy."

It's painfully apparent that you're hurt, "Chrissy? Who's Chrissy?"

Part of Eddie is happy you seem jealous. The other part of him feels terrible.

"Chrissy is the girl I went to the diner with."

You nod dramatically, "Oh, yeah. Of course. Of course."

He can't hold it in any longer, "Jealous?"

Your eyes are saucers, "What?"

"What?" He parrots.

"What makes you think I'm jealous?"

"Just a hunch," He shrugs.

"No," You cross your arms, "Why do you think I'm jealous? And what exactly am I jealous of?" You demand.

"Well, the change in body language when I said Chrissy would suggest that you are jealous. Jealous of Chrissy and I's relationship."

"One, the correct wording would be 'Chrissy and me,'" You quip—Eddie rolls his eyes, "Second, you sound ridiculous. You sound like you're stupid, but you're trying to be smart."

"Don't call me stupid," Eddie crosses his arms, "I'm brilliant. Thank you very much."

"I didn't call you stupid, Eds," You pout. 

"Stop pouting," He pokes your jutted-out lip, "It makes me want to—" He cuts himself off by bringing the joint back to his lips.

"It makes you want to what?" You ask, secretly hoping the answer is what you've been wishing for.

"It makes me want to do something I shouldn't do."

"Yeah?" You smile, "Like what."

"Sweetheart," He sighs, "I have a feeling that you know. And I'm not sure why you insist on hearing it from my mouth."

"I don't know what you mean," You feign innocence.

"I think you know exactly what I mean." He whispers into your ear, and you shudder at the sudden closeness.

You turn, "C'mon, Ed's," You're so close that you're sure the butterflies will float out of your mouth and go straight in his, "Don't make me say it."

"Well, I don't want to say it, either," He mutters.

"So... where does that leave us?"

Three beats of silence go by, and a butterfly escapes when he puts his hand over yours.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice is a whisper.

"Yes."

guys i fink im going to do a part 2 :0

as always, thank you for reading <3

mutuals:

@queerpumpkinnn @woahlifehitsyahuh @evergreenlover @reysdriver @thesunandstarss @tracymbcm @youre-so-lovely @y4ksh42 @until-i-found-you @inkluvs @imabee-oralizard @prongsio @puppy-coded @spaceagebachelormann @starsval @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @dancinglikeaballerina @ghostlyfleur @just-another-lovesong @starlit-epiphany @justpjostufff @lovers-tunnel @zvdvdlvr @cosmal @vampieteeth @bruisedboys @meredarling @maddipoof

[secrettellerssociety]

Nancy's storyline is S3 was not about sexism/misogyny

Just to be clear, I'm not insulting Nancy anywhere in here calling her a kid/child I'm just trying to explain the story and the characters takes on everything to explain it. I'm sorry about rambling a bit at the end I may have repeated some things but I was trying to make sure I got everything. But please read everything because it may cover any questions you have.

The men that are making fun of her never make it about her being a woman, its always about her being a child/intern. They laugh at her suggestions because shes an intern who has only worked there for 4 weeks at the most and is trying to make suggestions about how to run the paper, when they spent over 20+ years working there [as Tom says] to get a spot in that room.

Nancy herself never even says or implies that its about her being a woman necessarily. In fact, theres points that contradict that the storyline is about sexism. Like this next subject.

***********************

Nancy's conversation with her mother is what gives it away. If this was about sexism, this is the part where Nancy is with another woman and can speak freely about men/sexism. She doesn't talk about sexism/being a woman ext though. Doesn't even imply it. I always thought this scene was odd because its about her being a kid, not a woman. I thought what a weird way to address the sexism/misogyny topic.

This is the part in the story where Nancy or her mother should be giving a speech about being a woman and how they're just as good as men and overcoming sexism, but that isn't the message being put out. Its all about Nancy being a kid. The advice Karen gives her and helps Nancy overcome her issue is also not about being a woman or fighting misogyny. Its about Nancy being a kid.

"I wanted to be right so badly." "And were you?" "I thought so. But maybe I just…don't want to admit that I'm wrong, because if I'm wrong, then…" "You're what everyone thinks you are." "Just a kid who has no idea what she's doing."

You're what everyone says you are /just a kid who has no idea whats she doing [Confirming the bosses at Hawkins post were making fun of her for that, it had nothing to do with sexism/her being a woman.

*******************************

Their insults towards her are never about her being a female, its always about her being a child/an intern. They call her Nancy Drew who is a "TEEN" detective. Nancy Drew often runs into trouble because she doesn't fully know whats doing. Shes very smart, but inexperienced. Again they are commenting about her inexperience. Not about her being a woman.

Bruce says about her forgetting mustard on his sandwich after she makes a suggestion for what to put in the paper. This isn't him being sexist, he is saying about how she can't even manage being an intern and getting that right, so why should they take her suggestions about how to run the paper seriously when shes only worked there for 4 weeks and can't even handle the menial tasks.

We never actually see the men being sexist apart from Bruce. Bruce makes a comment about a womans bust that is clearly sexist, but Bruce is never sexist towards her, nor are the other men. Their issues with her are always about her being a kid/an intern.

Tom clearly wasn't showing favoritism towards the men because he fired both of them even though Jonathan didn't 'cause as much trouble' as Nancy. Nancy did more, but Jonathan was given the same punishment as her.

Nancy was an intern and she was mad that she had to do interns job like get coffee. Men and women interns have to do this. It's not sexism. Interns jobs are to do menial tasks to help the higher ups [like get coffee ext] and learn as they go so they can advance to a higher level within the company.

The only reason Jonathan's job was different is because he had a skill no one else had there. Photography at a newspaper is also a menial task in itself. He was doing a menial task already, it was just different than Nancy's task because he had that skill, she didn't.

___

"Can you have one of the other girls get the coffee today." "They're needed at their desks." It is Nancy who makes the suggestion for another girl to do it [not Tom] even though she is the intern working there. Even Tom protests this. Hes not being sexist and is not the one who made the suggestion for another female to do it in the first place. If anything Nancy was being sexist saying have one of the other girls do it. It's not that women get the coffee, its that interns get the coffee and she may have been the only female intern working there. They're a small paper I don't see them having a lot of interns at one time, but if there was maybe shes saying have one of the other interns get it and the other two interns are women. She just refers to them as 'the girls'. I can't see Nancy saying something sexist like that making the suggestion for another woman to get it. I think she is talking specifically about the few interns who work there.

___

The "They like you no matter what you do." The bosses like Jonathan [not because hes a man] but because Jonathan comes in, keeps his head low, and does what hes told. Nancy is the opposite she is constantly making suggestions to the bosses how they should be running the paper.

___

Even Nancy herself never says its about sexism or implies it. She never says about how she is being treated differently because shes a woman except that one time already covered above. If this was about sexism or her being a woman she would have addressed that, but she never does. In fact, she makes it about her being a child, not a woman as shown above. The bosses also might value Jonathan because he has a skill while Nancy doesn't.

___

It's not sexism to expect an intern to do an interns job. Rachel on Friends has to do menial tasks like this as well when shes starting out in fashion. Her bosses weren't sexist, they give you menial tasks like that because you just started the job. You have to work your way to the top starting at the very bottom. This isn't a sexist thing. Its a people thing. Men have to do it too. Everyone, men included need to start out at the bottom and work their way to the top and gain skill and knowledge about the work before they can become a higher up. You can't just rush into the 'managers' office like Nancy did and start making suggestions about how to run the company when you only worked there for 3 weeks.

___

Maybe Nancy *thought* that the men were being sexist when they weren't, but even that doesn't add up. Because of what I went over above. Nancy never makes it about her being a woman at all. She understands its about her being a kid and that shes inexperienced and has no skills like Jonathan to give her a leg up. Shes smart, but she doesn't have any particular skills that set her apart from the rest.

___

The men never say anything towards her that is about her being a woman/they never say anything sexist. The only reason they're laughing at her suggestions and making fun of her is because shes a child and making suggestions to them the bosses when she just started working there. If Nancy was a man she would have been treated the exact same way. I'll make an example if I were a man and I started working at Walmart as a cashier and only worked there for 3 weeks and I went into a meeting that was meant for the managers and I started making suggestions about how to run the company when I knew nothing about it, they would laugh at me too. It had nothing to do with sexism.

___

Im not sure where the fans got this maybe reading too much into certain lines, but Nancy herself doesn't even feel that she was being made fun of for being a woman. She says its about being a kid not a woman.

[creepydude78]

Fully colored Gareth Emerson image :)

I love this little guy, I wish we got to see more of him in the show!