#tolerate you at best

[ruubesz-draws]

Godzilla (and co.) in jail :)

It feels nice to draw Rodan and Anguirus again :'))

[n1blakelover]

kosmo to rayla: you have a wonderful heart beautiful soul stunning star perfect don’t ever change you are the good in the world

kosmo to callum: scum of the earth eat shit

[suja-janee]

Redraw for my blog’s 4 year anniversary! (Ignore the fact that I accidentally erased echo’s arm oh shitttt)

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Old ver.

[sadclowncentral]

i love when people get more loud and outgoing and happy to talk to strangers after having a drink or two it's fun to watch people come out of their shell however i am like that sober alcohol just makes me unable to mask my autism. which means partying with me is like this

friend: you were right man the people here are so cool i've made so many friend alrea- dude are you okay you are so quiet all of a sudden

me who has not blinked in 5 minutes: yes. can i please list aircraft designations in alphabetical order now

[beskarfrog]

Okay, so we all agree that Luke having to marry Mand’alor Din for political reasons is a quality au. What if Luke accidentally gets politically engaged to some other planetary leader instead?

Let’s say that perhaps his connection to Leia automatically made him a candidate for diplomatic marriage, especially after Leia and Han get married. Maybe it was a major clause in the funding for his Jedi school, but Luke didn’t really think they’d ever actually marry him off. For the sake of the au, let’s also disregard bits of TBOBF and Mando S3. 

Luke’s been building his school on Ossus, Grogu is enjoying Jedi training, and there are a couple other students. And perhaps, Din actually becomes Mand’alor and retakes Mandalorian space. Maybe he visits the Jedi school pretty often to see his son and get away from politics.

Luke can really sympathize with having the weight of the universe and a glowing sword tossed at you with no warning. So maybe he and Din become friends after a while and maybe that friendship becomes something different. There start being blushes when someone gets pinned in a spar, falling asleep together on the couch after dinner, running around after the younglings constantly. Din visits as often as he can and has about made up his mind to just ask Luke if he would consider moving the Jedi school to Concordia so they’d at least be in the same star system most days, if not on the same planet.

That's when Luke gets an urgent holocall from Leia, informing him that he’s just been engaged to some bigwig princess as part of a treaty with a rich planet the New Republic has been courting. Luke is absolutely panicking to Din, going on about how the terms of the treaty basically forbid him from keeping his school. He’s looked at his funding agreement with the New Republic and he can’t get out of it without losing money unless he’s already married to someone.

And then Din thinks of the most beautiful solution to both of their problems. Everyone else thinks that they’re already a couple, as much as Din has denied it. Bo-Katan has been harassing him for months about spending so much time off-world to go see his little family. Mandalore could really use a trade agreement with the New Republic.

The next logical step is, of course, for Din to propose in the middle of Luke’s kitchen while his Jedi friend is struggling not to go into a dark spiral about losing his school funding. It's simple, really. They just have to get married right that moment, which would fix the school funding issue. Luke moves the school to the Mandalore system so Din can see him and the kids all the time without giving Bo-Katan a new gray streak. And Mandalore probably gets a trade agreement out of it. What’s not to like?

Luke is so stunned he accidentally pours the calming tea he was making directly onto the kitchen floor.

[sparkleresthold]

More SG foolishness 💙💛

[undead-supernova]

Masterlist

plot: your friendship with Eddie is still so new. and it's good. so good. but how do you learn to let go of the past and enjoy the present when your life is such a stark contrast from the life you once had?

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

important note: GUESS WHO IS BACK!!!!! thought you'd seen the last of me but here I am!!!! this is a one-off of my High Tolerance series! (this is roughly three months after they first met!) divider by @strangergraphics also, Eddie's outfit is inspired by this fanart by @aicosu!

warnings: reader having insecurities, friend betrayal, smoking cigarettes, alcohol, a helping of lovely fluff and giggles, LOTS OF DIALOGUE!!!

this is so so so heavily inspired by all my ghosts by Lizzy McAlpine!!!!! welcome to their lore!

wc: 4.3k

It’s odd, the way change, good change can alter your mind. There’s something so moving about it, this newfound knowledge that something you thought would last forever was purely momentary.

Take this change for example, the kind that you never expected would arise three months ago. A new friend, a now close friend that was shifting the way you saw yourself and saw the world. A friend you didn’t really think could possibly exist, stuck only in half-realistic novels and 40,000-word fanfictions.

But here was this guy, this thunderstorm of a man who had changed your life in such a short amount of time. Eddie Munson said that you were his new best friend. And he seems, at least for now, to have meant it.

There was nothing like late September, when the humidity let up and light jackets were pulled in tight. A cool breeze started to set in, leaving Southerners at ease for the first time since March. Late September, where life felt even more like a gift.

So, when Eddie asked if you wanted to go on a night drive, you couldn’t say yes fast enough.

He picked you up, even going so far as to lean over and open the door for you. You hoisted yourself up, drawn in by his casual apparel. Tonight, he was dressed in a charcoal sweater, different holes being held together by safety pins. He was snug in his black leggings and boots, wrists still littered with bracelets. Knuckles still shadowed by rings. 

The only thing that felt unusual was the distinct scent of cologne that wafted toward you the second your seatbelt clicked. The sandalwood, that musk tinging with spice. An overflow of fragrance that was making your head a tad fuzzy.

“Wow, you smell good,” were the first words out of your mouth.

“You think so?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

Avoiding the question, you asked, “Where are we headed tonight?”

The last breath of marigold sunset melted in his eyes. “Well, first, we need snacks. Lots of them.”

There was nothing better than a stroll through a QuickTrip, the many aisles usually guiding you to the drink selection that felt like a playground. What would it be tonight? Dr. Pepper? Apple juice? RedBull? Chocolate milk? Strawberry?

But there was something that seemed to switch on for you, standing in that cold air. This trepidation that figures would creep up behind you, shadows that could shatter your life with a quick snap. You went back to your ponderings, as if it was out of your hands. The reflections that came quickly under the fluorescent lights, the recognition that change brought about many emotions, many memories that you’d rather leave buried.

You could feel their presence as you grabbed strawberry milk and made your way to the candy aisle. It was there you caught Eddie crouched down, trying to decide between Reese’s peanut butter cups and 3 Musketeers. The ghosts felt ready to pounce at any chance they got, swirling in your head with a vibrancy you hadn’t anticipated. Months of being tossed around like a rag doll, made to believe that your best friend was a monster. Were complicit in their games. 

“You need to try Red Vines.”

Eddie sprung back up, leaving you to blink for a moment as your eyes adjusted to the pack he thrusted in front of your face.

“Oh, you mean red sticks of chalk?” you wondered, lifting an eyebrow. “Yeah, no thanks.”

He pretended to get upset, jolting back as if you’d stung him. “Jeez, don’t be such a hater.”

“I’m the biggest hater for Red Vines.”

He pouted. “That’s fucked up.”

Shrugging, you threw up your hands. “More for you!” 

“Yeah, but we could’ve enjoyed it together,” he groaned.

“Poor thing,” you said sarcastically, imitating his pout.

His eyes narrowed. “You are brutal, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?

“Sweetheart?”

He searched your face, his widening eyes mirroring yours. As if he’d been caught. As if he were in trouble. “What, can I not call you sweetheart?”

He said it again.

Heat was starting to build in your neck, your face. “Um, uh…”

Eddie’s eyes screwed shut. “Shit, sorry—”

“No!” you exclaimed. “It’s not that. It’s just—”

“Lame.”

“Gentle.”

His eyelids opened, now surprised. A hush fell over you as you made eye contact, the only sound being his fiddling with the Red Vines packaging and the muffled hum of “Hold Me Now” by Thompson Twins coming through the speakers.

“Uh,” he started, a flash of red appearing on his cheeks. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s a good thing,” you assured him. “It’s just…unexpected.”

For the last few months, you truly believed you didn’t know what to think of Eddie. But in that moment, you realized that maybe the chains and the hair and his choice of music and movies had played a part in your blind observations. And it’s not that you thought that Eddie couldn’t be gentle. You just supposed he might be a little harder than he was.

But the way he said the pet name—nickname, the way it fit so softly in his mouth, his voice. You couldn’t help but feel a calmness washing over you at the sentiment. 

“It’s kind,” you answered.

His mood seemed to lift. “So, can I, like, keep calling you sweetheart?”

“Yes—” you said a little too quickly, clearing your throat to pause. “I, uh. Yeah. Yes.”

“Alright,” he replied, a smile lurking on his lips. “Sweetheart.”

You surely could’ve died right there.

During the day, Atlanta was a clusterfuck of traffic, chaos in the lack of turning signals and kindness to let people over. Nothing but honks and just-missed accidents. But at night, even in an overflow of traffic, the city seemed to turn electric. There was something in the air that made it magnetic, the sparkle of office buildings and street lamps guiding you towards your destination with ease. That orange glow that highlighted the path forward, the kind that made you wonder if you’d entered an alternate dimension.

And there beside you was your best friend. You couldn’t love anything more than riding shotgun next to Eddie, watching him belt out the lyrics to a Killers song in between shimmers of light dancing off his profile. “When You Were Young” set the scene for your journey, turning cinematic in nature.

This was so different from the life you knew mere months ago. The long nights of loneliness, staving off any thoughts of the friends that seemed to fade away as soon as you’d made new ones. And maybe it’d been stupid—pathetic—how much you cried. How much you hated yourself and hated the way you’d been used. 

But it was nothing compared to the self-loathing. That knowledge that you had everything to do with the downfall of not just your reputation, but the people who you’d held close. Especially one.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Eddie asked, turning down the volume. The crackle blaring from the speakers was what really caught your attention.

It was stupid, really. The they-said, she-said. The college drama that looked a little too much like high school. Maybe it was in the way outcasts find each other and realize they have too much growing up to do—and that involves recreating the high school experiences they never had. You just so happened to get lost in that crossfire and became the ostracized fool used in their petty schemes. 

You nodded, unable to keep the fake smile on your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Just taking everything in.”

“Care to elaborate on ‘everything’?”

You wondered what you’d tell her if given the second chance. How you’d describe Eddie’s friendship and the way you thought that they’d get along. If she were here, still attached at the goddamn hip, what would she say? How would she act? 

Who is she now?

“Have you ever royally fucked up your life and had to find a way to start over?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie drawled, letting out a low whistle. “Big time.” With a gentle sigh and a glance over at you, he asked, “Have I ever mentioned Ronnie?”

“Ronnie?”

“Guess not,” he said with a shrug. “Well, Ronnie and I were best friends in high school. I mean, super close. Like, we lived in the same trailer park and rode to school together every day until, like, two months before she graduated. Ever heard of a prom?”

You snorted. “Yeah, Eddie. I’ve heard of a prom.”

“Just had to check. Didn’t know if Southerners were too busy doing, like, cotillion or debutante balls or whatever.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed out the memory of hairspray and curlers as you responded, “Well, we do but high schools have proms.”

“Excellent. Well, I kinda asked her to prom and she, you know, said yes.”

“You were dating?”

“Nah. No. It was nothing like that. I just…” He sighed. “I wanted to do something nice for her. Senior year and all. Since I was being held back another year, I wanted to put more effort in. Ron never dated anyone in high school, and it was her choice. Like, she didn’t want to date anyone ever. But I thought that because it was the last chance, I’d do something cheesy and fun. And she said yes which was really cool. I saved up to rent a suit and everything. But come like, fuck, three days before prom, she told me she was going with a group of girls instead.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “The fuck? Why would she do that?”

Eddie grimaced. “They were all going to the same college. Thinking about it now, I guess she just wanted to have some kinda safety net going in. But, at the time, I was fucking furious. Like, this is my best friend. I spent the little money I’d had on renting a suit. In advance. And there was a cancellation fee. In a small town with fuck all people. Tell me how that makes any sense.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Anyways, I was pissed. So, I went over to her place and just fucking unloaded.

“I told her she was selfish for trying to fit in with these lame girls who she’d hardly spoken to. Ronnie told me that I didn’t know shit about who she did and didn’t talk to. And when I tried to tell her we’d been best friends since we were kids and that I definitely knew who she did and didn’t hang out with, she told me that she’d been buddying up with these girls at school for months. Oh, and that she never told me because she knew how I’d react.”

“Y’all never resolved it?” you asked after he paused. “It seems like a mild miscommunication.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a mild fight, especially at seventeen,” he said with a quick glance over at you. “I told her she was a piece of shit for hanging out with these rich fucks who would never understand her or let go of the fact that we’re ‘trailer park trash’—again, I was seventeen so I had no idea I shouldn’t even think like that.

"But she said that, you know, not all rich kids are as judgmental as I thought they were and that these girls were kind. It didn’t matter if Chrissy and Heather were on the cheer squad. They liked her for her. Guess I couldn’t stomach it. I told her she was a gullible idiot. She told me to fuck off since I was clearly jealous that she had friends and I didn’t. Which is, shit, half-true.

“I told her to get her rich little friends to pay me back for my stupid tux and then to leave my life for good. I honest-to-god convinced myself that that had been her plan all along—get the full-ride scholarship and ditch her best friend. The next morning, I found an envelope with enough cash to cover my tux and Wayne and I’s bills for, like, three months with a note telling me that she’d never forgive me for what I said to her and…to have a good life.” 

You noticed his eyes begin to glass over, as if it was too painful for him to stomach. “And…and there was a note from Chrissy. Chrissy fucking Cunningham, this perfect-looking cheerleader that had the biggest dickhead for a boyfriend—captain of the goddamn basketball team and as hardcore Christian as people are here.” He shook his head. “Yeah, she, uh, told me that she was sorry that people treated me like shit and that, for what it was worth, she’d done everything she could to stop the bullying but failed. And she didn’t want to graduate without letting me know she’d always found me cool and to just push through. Said she believed in me and my music and everything.”

A tear escaped Eddie’s lashes. Without hesitation, you reached over to catch it before it cascaded down his cheek. And without any knowledge as to why, your pointer finger lingered there, brushing his skin. As if it was second nature.

You could’ve sworn you saw his tense posture ease, his spine finally meeting the seat. But he kept his eyes on the road, leaving you to remove your finger when he turned on his blinker. You didn’t look away from him as he veered off onto your exit.  

“I met all those weird kids that next school year and through them found Robin and Steve. Fucking Steve Harrington who was born into money and was popular and shit. I mean, his nickname was King Steve. Like, how fucking pretentious, right? But he’s one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. Sometimes he’s a little stupid, the definition of a himbo, but nice nonetheless. He helped Wayne and I out the moment he caught wind from Robin that we were close to getting evicted. All three of us worked and got our degrees online at night. Then we…came here.”

You couldn’t help but watch him, noticing the way that he was filtering between different emotions by the second, as if he didn’t know how to feel about it. Even now.

“All of this to say…yeah, I’ve royally fucked up before. I made that bed. I lie in it every day of my life.” 

You stayed quiet as he pulled into the parking space facing your apartment building. The poor excuse for a streetlamp barely gave way to his features now. But Eddie turned his torso to face you, fingers tapping along the cupholder. His eyes found yours, the captivating brown swallowing you in its intensity. “Okay, so what’s your story? How’d you royally fuck things up?”

The only thing you could do was pause, the stillness of the van and the distant hum of cicadas finally allowing you respite. You couldn’t help but search his eyes, trying to find a reason to keep him in the dark, to keep that hidden pain inside and shield him from your mistakes.

But it was in that scouring that you realized that you had no reason to hide. If Eddie was willing to show the nasty parts of himself, why shouldn’t you?

“Can we go inside first?”

One spilled pot of mac and cheese, two cigarettes, and three shots of vodka later, you finally told Eddie what happened.

You both sat criss-crossed on the rug next to your coffee table, facing one another. Stray hairs fell over Eddie’s face, his curls now wrapped into a low bun. You couldn’t help but find it cute, even in the face of your unspoken history being brought to the surface.

“I had kind of a big friend group the last few years of college,” you started finally. “I had this D&D group with a few of them and I was really happy. But then I met this other group one night and, I don’t know, I guess I just felt this desire to be loved.

“It was these two couples who’d been best friends since high school and they found out that I was bi and since all of them were too, they thought it would be fun if we all kissed each other and even, like, go further, I guess. We never did the further thing, though.”

“This is the gayest thing I’ve ever heard,” Eddie commented, a hint of a playful smile on his lips.

This made you chuckle. “I know, right? Truly doomed by the narrative since the start.”

“Truly.” 

“So, anyways, I hung out with them a lot. Smoked a lot and kinda forgot my other friendships. I still saw them, but I was just so intrigued by how much those people wanted me. Me, some girl from Tennessee who hadn’t seen much and was in this huge city and… I think I got blinded by the opportunity to have four different people want me like that. I don’t even think I realized I was being used until it was all over.

“One of them even told me what to say whenever we all hung out. Just to, like, put out feelers for kissing, I guess? And I would say what they told me to and just giggle because I thought it was just stupid fun. Like, they knew the others better than I did so, to me, it was just a harmless joke. I didn’t actually expect for us to kiss all the time. We were supposed to be friends first. I even thought we were all close friends by the end of it.”

“What about your other friends?” Eddie asked. “Where did they go?”

“Well, they were trying to tell me that I wasn’t the same, that I was acting all weird and that it wasn’t like me to keep skipping sessions. They told me that they didn’t even like my new friends and that they were worried about me. That they’d heard bad things about them. And because I had a big mouth, I brought this up with the new friends and they just…” You took a deep breath, trying to keep everything inside you from erupting. “They told me to leave everyone. To forget about people who were hating on us for no reason. So…I did. But that’s when it all went to shit.”

It took another deep breath for your heart to slow, the resurfaced memories as bright as they could be. The feverish kisses in their dorm room, the twining of hands in hallway shadows. Their dark blue hair in your hands, tongue piercing brushing against your lips. How it was all you craved, how it was the most painful guilt you’d ever experienced. 

“The one that asked me to say stuff…we kinda kissed when other people weren’t around. And I didn’t know it, but they’d dated one of my other friends.”

“The one that did the D&D group?”

“Yeah, she’d been my best friend. But they’d dated long before I knew the person.”

“So, what, this new new friend didn’t want you being friends with their ex?”

“And said ex didn’t want me being friends with this new new friend. She was trying to warn me, but I didn’t understand. I didn’t get it.”

“Wait,” Eddie said, holding up his hand. “Okay, I think I’m getting confused. They’ve both got names, correct?��

You couldn’t help but chuckle again. “Okay, so Blake, my best friend at the time, was dating Devon who was part of this new new friend group. Blake tried to warn me that Devon was bad, but Devon was saying the same stuff about Blake. And then Devon was the one I kissed when their boyfriend, Ryan, wasn’t around. Which I admit is shitty of me, but Devon swore they were in an open relationship. Which I really did believe. We were all kissing, you know?”

“I’m guessing they weren’t.”

With a nod, you continued. “This group only lasted, like, five months at the most. After New Year’s which, by the way, was spent with all of us making out and being the gayest group of people on Earth, I suddenly had absolutely no contact with them. They all ghosted me. And when I asked Devon what was up, they told me that the kissing was too much and that they were concerned I was getting too close. And that I wanted more from them than they wanted from me ‘cause they were in a happy relationship.

"Which, not that it matters, but they weren’t. Both couples fought in front of me all the time. It was bizarre how many times it was like I wasn’t even there.”

You couldn’t help but think of the day all five of you went on a hike together. Devon and Ryan passed around a four-hundred dollar dab rig that they thought was a great idea to bring into the woods. Devon slipped on a rock, causing the dab rig to crack which then resulted in a full-on screaming match. Ryan unloaded into Devon, wondering how they could be so stupid. Devon had stayed at your apartment that night, crying in your arms. The other couple, Eve and Corie, had just as many arguments, usually pissing contests over who was more unhappy. It truly was a bizarre time in your life.

“And all this time…I resented the friends that I’d been close with. I resented Blake for so fucking long. I just thought she was so judgmental and rude and mean and…” Shaking your head, you turned away from Eddie. You couldn’t stand to look at him, to remember that he was even listening to you. “I let her down and couldn’t even go back because she didn’t want me. None of them did. Blake, Lisa, Jessie, and Jana told me that what was done was done and that I couldn’t come back. No matter how much I apologized.” 

“They didn’t even hear you out?”

“Nope.”

“Well, that’s kinda bullshit.” The comment made you turn back to him, watching as he shook his head. “I mean, you made some bad friends, yeah, but you realized you fucked up and had the balls to face them and apologize. They could’ve heard you out. Especially Blake.”

“Couldn’t you say the same about Ronnie?” you questioned.

You thought it would sound harsher than you meant it, but Eddie understood. He gave you a half-smile. “Yeah, you’re right. I could.”

Nodding, you added, “I take responsibility for the role I played in the destruction. I regret hurting them every day. Mixing friendship and romance is…” You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t know. It’s tricky.”

His eyebrows lifted, voice laced with intrigue. “You didn’t mention it being romantic.”

“I said we kissed when Devon’s partner wasn’t there,” you stated plainly.

“Kissing and romance can be separate.”

A bitter scoff left your lips, quiet resentment still sitting in your bones. “Well, maybe I was the only one kissing with feeling then.” 

You never wanted to repeat that desperate yearning for someone that didn’t feel the same way. Never again would you waste your time on someone who didn’t want you. If lines were to blur and cross, you would have to draw a deep fucking strike in the sand. 

Especially if they were already in a relationship.

“I do know I was a homewrecker. I saw they broke up a few months later. All their pictures had been deleted off of Devon’s Instagram.”

“That relationship was unstable long before you came around,” he reasoned.

Shaking your head, you said, “Yeah, but I still kissed Devon when I was well aware they were dating Ryan.”

“And you haven’t stopped beating yourself up for your mistake for how long?”

“A little over a year,” you whispered.

Eddie paused, his eyes wandering around the room until they landed on you again. “So…when you said you were taking it all in…”

“I meant the fact that I actually have a friend again.”

“Best friend.”

As you gazed at him, you couldn’t help yourself from leaning over and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Woah,” he whispered before bringing you further into his grasp.

A rush of tears left your eyes, a choking sound leaving your lips. The release of a story once held too tightly to your chest, the understanding and compassion of someone who truly accepted you for your mistakes. It was overwhelming to feel this restored, to feel something unfurl and begin the process of mending. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be,” he whispered back. “I’m guessing you haven’t told anyone?”

“There hasn’t been anyone to tell,” you admitted. 

You realized that this was the first time you’d ever hugged. 

“You’ve made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean you’re a piece of shit. You just got caught up in that feeling. I get it. I mean, I ruined shit by wanting to be picked over other people. It’s not the same, but it kinda is at the same time. So, I get it. I get you.” His eyes shifted away from you before they came back, elation filling them. “But guess what?”

“What?”

“We can move on. Together.”

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“Well, we can keep each other in check. If you ever lose yourself in someone, I’ll let you know. I’m not going anywhere.”

You couldn’t help but blurt out, “You say that now.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What, is that a challenge to prove you wrong?”

As you looked at him, you couldn’t deny that something was bubbling in your stomach. Bubbling? Blooming? Whatever it was, you liked it. “I don’t know, do you want it to be?”

“Yeah, maybe I do,” he stated, grinning.

And then Eddie was the one to initiate the hug, quickly wrangling you into his arms. You nearly sat on his lap, just holding one another. You couldn’t say how long you sat there, breaths lining up and grips tightening. 

Maybe looking back was the only way you could truly see how far you’d come. How far you were able to go now, with the past staying exactly where it needed to be. And, at least for now, you had Eddie at your side.

thank you to everyone who has been supporting me during this hiatus :') it has meant everything to me

[aroaceleovaldez]

the “canon” fatal flaw that bugs me the most is that Nico’s is allegedly supposed to be “holding grudges” but LITERALLY EVERYTHING HE DOES SAYS OTHERWISE

the only instances we get of Nico even remotely doing anything with a “grudge” is him spontaneously, randomly, on rare occasion referencing being grumpy at something - THAT HE IS ENTIRELY VALID TO BE UPSET AT - and then does nothing with that. other than maybe continue to be vaguely grumpy about it and then drop it. In fact, Nico is consistently EXTREMELY forgiving to people despite him having perfectly valid reasons to not forgive them. Percy literally choked Nico and ditched him in the Underworld and Nico STILL brought Percy to the River Styx and faced off against Hades to bring THREE gods and an army of the undead to Percy’s aid, despite Hades actively suggesting alternatives to Nico and encouraging Nico to not do that.

Nico’s fatal flaw is so clearly either that he does not let go of things (not the same as holding grudges) OR that he’s far too willing to put others before himself, often directly putting himself at risk instead. He’s too self-sacrificial. He was explicitly willing to trade HIMSELF for Bianca and extremely resistant to letting go of her. He put himself on the line facing against Hades to help Percy MULTIPLE TIMES. He risked getting in trouble with the Underworld to bring back Hazel. He WILLING WENT INTO TARTARUS to try to close the Doors of Death himself. He offered to shadow-travel the Athena Parthenos for Reyna despite knowing it would most likely kill him. Etc. etc. The closest Nico has ever gotten to “holding a grudge” was being mad at Leo for faking his own death, and even then he was only Mildly Annoyed and got over it pretty quickly after Leo returned.

Nico “holding grudges” is a load of bull. Percy’s loyalty? Annabeth’s hubris? Absolutely true. Percy’s loyalty to Annabeth and Annabeth’s hubris are what got them pulled into Tartarus (also, interestingly - Percy’s hubris in TLO and Annabeth’s loyalty taking a knife for him is what nearly got them killed then). Nico, though? Nico’s willingness to put himself on the line for the sake of others is what nearly got him killed in BoTL and TLO and HoO and brought him to Tartarus multiple times, now! “Holding grudges,” yeah, right.

[invye]

So my friend has me watching One Piece again which means I am back on my Mihawk brainrot--

Therefore let me introduce you to the list of hobbies I headcannon Mihawk to practice when he's sailing from A to B or taking a bit of time off in his goth castle:

cooking

reading

gardening

embroidery

wood carving

soap making

Extensive and rambly collection of thoughts on all of these under the cut:

Cooking

Reading

My man lives alone, of course he can cook. And he enjoys it. He is the type who technically can eat anything and everything no matter the taste as long as it gives him the nutrition he needs, but ever since he started cooking more regularly he's caught himself getting more picky about the quality and taste of his food. This becomes a problem when his unbidden guests (read: Perona dragging Zoro along) decide to help with the cooking duties... Mihawk has to go through a unexpectedly difficult phase of adapting to liking food that he hasn't made himself exactly fitting to his own taste again.

(Also Zoro on vegetable cutting duty leaves a Mess™. Mihawk makes him scrub the entire kitchen back to his standards after the first time, and while Zoro at first only marginally improves on the not making a mess part, he significantly improves on the cleaning the mess part. [Mihawk's standards for a clean kitchen are exactly as high as Sanji's, a fact which serves Zoro well after his return.])

Gardening

Mihawk enjoys his books. Nothing like a nice evening of quiet reading with a good glass of wine. He reads while travelling too, because lets be honest, there is only so much wistful staring at the horizon he can do and only so many naps he can take while he sails Hitsugibune from one end of the world to the other. At this point he has worked his way halfway through the library of his castle. Which does not stop him from buying new books. He's surprised that it still isn't a commonly known fact about him, with how often he has caused near heart attacks in poor bookshop owners when they are faced with the World's Greatest Swordsman having appeared in their shop to buy a book?? But he supposes it's one of these "no one will ever believe you" kind of situations.

Mihawk also has a lady two islands over from Kuraigana who supplies him with romance novels. She wisely knows not to comment, but he will never forget her wild grin the first time she saw him reaching for a queer novel. The woman seems to pride herself in always having a new queer story available whenever he stops by, and Mihawk has stubbornly decided to pokerface his way through their interactions forever and ever.

The library has significantly grown since Mihawk moved in. It's sorted by genre now. He'll never let Shanks in there so he doesn't have to admit just how much and what kind of romance he's reading.

Embroidery

Roses. Mihawk has an aesthetic and he commits to it 100%. He keeps the most immaculate rose garden Shanks has ever seen, and Shanks has seen plenty of pretty places. At least half the different species of rose bushes are actually gifts from Shanks after he's seen the beginnings of the garden the first time he visited (read: dropped by unannounced) Kuraigana after it became known Mihawk had claimed the island. So now, years later, Mihawk has probably the most extensive collection of rose species in all colours, shapes and sizes in all the seas.

To Zoro's chagrin, the garden is set up like a maze. It's not a big maze. Even the rose bushes Mihawk has allowed to grow tall during his absences barely even reach higher than Mihawk's shoulders. No reasonable person could ever get lost in it. It quickly becomes apparent that Zoro is not a reasonable person.

'Hidden' within the rose 'maze' there are some dedicated patches of ground making up a kitchen garden. Mihawk got tired of doing supply runs every couple weeks, so he grows his own vegetables and herbs (healing purposes included) and even started to grow the spices he prefers.

(To his own annoyance that garden is not able to support feeding three mouths instead of just one, so the supply runs are back to their old frequency until he makes Zoro and Perona spend a week helping him extend the garden. By year two Kuraigana is mostly self-sufficient again. [By year three Mihawk doesn't know what to do with his extra produce anymore so he decides to actually host Shanks' crew for once instead of just Shanks on his lonesome. They are surprisingly respectful of his space, he might even get the utterly insane idea to do this again.])

Wood carving

You have seen his clothes. Everyone has seen his clothes. You know the chances of finding a good, waterproof coat that not just fits perfectly but also exactly reflects your style? They're abysmal. And even if you found the perfect piece of clothing for you, it needs to be properly washed and maintained if you want it to last longer than a storm or two. Also, professional hand embroidery costs a ton of money. So yes, Mihawk made all the little embroidered details himself. At this point he doubts anyone even remembers how his coat looked back when he bought it and before he had time to put a needle to it. Well, anyone who isn't Shanks. Because Mihawk distinctly remembers Shanks staring when he first showed up to a duel with his brand new coat and then staring again after Mihawk was done with it.

Embroidery is more of a winter hobby, when the garden doesn't need him, and he feels the urge to keep his hands moving. For a while he considered teaching Zoro to give him more of a feeling for fine control, but he quickly discarded the idea in favour of helping Perona with her clothes making adventures.

Mihawk never thought or intended for wood carving to become an actual hobby at all. It started out with him finding himself having sailed into a middle of a rather big reef in an attempt to evade social interaction with Vice Admiral Garp after he spotted his ship on the horizon in the early days of Mihawk's Warlord-ship. The reef had plenty rock and coral formations just closely hiding beneath the water surface, interseeded with sand banks that shifted with the tides, which any ship that lays even slightly deeper in the water than Hitsugibune would not be able to navigate. Mihawk relied on his Haki and superior eye-sight to spot all the obstacles and even with all that it was difficult to sail Hitsugibune safely. Then the winds turned on him rather suddenly when he crossed a climate barrier, bringing along heavy cloud cover and fog, and Mihawk decided he needed to make note of the rock formations somehow to not run into them after all as visibility pretty much approached zero. Being not at all talented in map drawing, Mihawk used Kogatana to carve the map into a random scrap of plank instead. It served him well (he sucessfully avoided Garp and there was not a single new scratch on Hitsugibune) and it kind of just became a thing he did. He now has a small collection of carved maps of mostly reefs and other dangerous waters he uses for hiding and evading purposes. And if he carves the occasional bird or other animal when he's bored out at sea, no one needs to know.

Soap making

It's another hobby Mihawk stumbled upon mostly by coincidence. One day during a supply run he got annoyed by how expensive soap is. The next day he had everything he needed to make it for much less money. A week later he had a year's worth supply of soap sorted out. Shanks asks how Mihawk manages to always smell of roses, even when he has been gone from Kuraigana for weeks. Mihawk says nothing while Shanks' crew mercilessly teases their captain for always getting up and close into Hawkeyes' personal space to even know that. They are smart enough to know not to comment on Mihawk allowing Shanks this close in the first place.

[moeblob]

he's a demon. he's a cleric. he's absolutely suffering.

[bittsandpieces]

You're absolutely breathtaking 😍

REPOSTING STOLEN NUDES FROM SEX WORKERS. BLOCKED AND REPORTED CHECK YOUR FUCKIN MORALS BUD

[princescar]

It's just-

Yasuke is SOOOOOOOOOO important to the overall plot and the themes of the series, to the point that he leaves behind a massive plothole in Different Mastermind AUs. It's just disheartening to see that people either don't know about him or significantly downplay his involvement.

His relationship with Junko, the core of Danganronpa, is so fucking amazing. The fact that he was one of the most important people to her, to the point that the only thing she's able to remember is how much she loves him, is such a refreshing take on her character when shes constantly portrayed as the evil force. That, even when she is the villain of dr0, we learn that she is capable of loving something other than despair.

His the only other peice we get of Junko's backstory that isn't from Mukuro (which has to be taken with a grain of salt since shes not telling full truths and was also in Fenrir for a good chunk). The sandcastle story gives us a look at a Junko who does something for the sake of another person, without planning on using them. He's probably the only character who's seen Junko grow up, who knows every step of her life. (Never specified when the met, just that he knew her when she went into elementary school (so prolly around 6yo). But Junko also lies that she was responsible for Matsuda's mom condition, and considering he is unsure to believe her implies that there is some plausibility, so who knows how long that was.)

ANYWAY

The fact that he is so ingrained into the two games is so UGH. Yasuke's the reason class 78 cant remember their past. Why Kyoko doesn't remember her talent. The foundation of the game is reliant on HIS research. And even the NWP, something he helped create, is how the second game is able to play out. (And possibly how Junko knew about it since she made AI Junko to be placed into it.) It's so important to the game that even drv3 had to incorporate it somehow into its games.

Just the amount of love she has for this fucker DRIVES ME CRAZY. To include parts of his life's research into her games, to use the same knife she killed him with to frame her biggest obstacles for her sister's death, to have fragments of your last days with him seeping out of your AI self (the notebook, and the two white noises during 2-6)??? UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

The fact, the fucking FACT, that he was the closest person to actually saving her?? Yasuke! Not Makoto, or hajime, or even her fucking twin. Mr."Shut the fuck up, old man".

But its also the point of no return for Junko. The minute Ryoko "died", all her goodness died. Yasuke could've easily agreed to Ryoko's pleas to forget about everything and go back to his lab. But he didn't. And that's where things were set.

He did so much for Junko, because he loved her.

[hellohellowelcome]

I've seen people honestly convincing themselves that Class A deliberately started hating Izuku and did not speak or reach out to him for 8 whole years because he became quirkless again.....well, no!

They are no longer classmates who see each other everyday nor was Izuku working as a pro during those years; there would naturally be less overlap in their schedules. It's very much a normal part of life to remain deeply close with people you can only catch up with a few times a year. Class A adores Izuku, you absolutely cannot convince me they don't catch up with him as much as they can, even if that doesn't end up being often. Especially with how much hero society has changed post-time skip (e.g. the quirk counseling program Ochako started up, Shoji's work on heteromorph prejudice, etc.), it makes perfect sense that most of the class just got busy. A different kind of busy than Izuku might be as a teacher. I also think that he still meets up with people, just probably not the majority all at once (seriously, try coordinating a meetup with twenty people's schedules in mind).

As for Izuku feeling lonely, again, it's a hard transition to go from classmates who lived together in the same dorms, who fought a war together, to maybe rarely catching up. I'm sure there's also a special kind of loneliness that comes with watching your closest friends pursue a dream you cannot live with them anymore. Seeing them on the TV, seeing their class statue. The loneliness of feeling separated from the you that's a hero when you still have all of the scars. None of it means that the Class A alum are horrible people who could possibly ever stop caring about Izuku

[twospiritstooprideful]

NYYYEEAAAHHHG NEW INTRO POST TIMMMEEE

Former and inevitably out-dated intopost here: https://www.tumblr.com/genderfluidsgetguns/744438873843744768/yeeeaaaaggggg-you-can-also-call-me-lee?source=share

(new intro post under the cut)

JOIN THE SERVER (if you want IDC (I do I do care immensely but also /nf))

Yo! My name is Percy! And Dog, Percy, Nico, Lee, Leo, Piper, Thalia, Skipp, Stone, Vinnie, Thunder/Lightning, Octavian, Nyx, Kay, Jay, Shay, Cas, and Atlas interchangeably please :3

yeah it may be confusing, but idgf. Call me whatever, just mix it up sometimes, okay?

Gender? Yours, fool

Sexuality? Yes

Romantic Attraction? Only if I know you well enough

I am Native American, apart of the Navajo Tribe, so do NOT call me an Indian. I will block you.

I am also a minor, so do not be creepy please

Tags!

#heterohomo.txt: based of an inside joke with my friends, my own original posts

#the dog goes 'what's good': me answering asks

#the rain is but the storms tears: vents

Tags for all my moots!

@bassguitarinablackt-shirt: #mine dearest nephew perseus @ssavinggrace: #my hubby thalia @midnight-thedyke: #minny the fagdyke @catinasink: #the one in the sink @literatureisdying: #attie in my attic @lostlosersclub: #the one i barely tolerate @littlebookworm69: #ah fuck yeah it's cami @evermorecatra: #you best believe it's eve @three-eyed-skullbunny: #bnnuy nico @ollies-moving-castle: #the storms' beloved

if any more moots want a tag or want their tag modded, go through my inbox please!

[hhhhleb]

based on this concept they got soul bond and sans can feel when smth wrong with papyrus

good thing that sans didn't see the actual injury.. grillby knew that would greatly upset sans, so that's why he pushed him away. it also could have trigger some really bad memories for Sans..so grillby did good job x2 (more thoughts in tags)

[undead-supernova]

Tolerance Break / Masterlist

Bonus Chapters

Part 4 / Part 5

warnings: mostly warning free outside of alcohol consumption, arguments, a hint of spice, and emergency cigarettes

pairings: bestfriend!modern!eddie x fem!reader

plot: sometimes you just gotta clear the smoke

wc: 5.2k

How the fuck did you end up agreeing to go to another karaoke night?

No, seriously. What the hell was wrong with you?

Okay, maybe you were being a little too mean to yourself. But didn’t you deserve it after everything that transpired between you and Eddie?

There was something that was beginning to float away from the two of you, something that felt familiar. It was exactly what you’d feared, the teetering in and out. No calls, no texts. Nothing there on your screen, left for dead on your bedroom floor most days as you blocked out any and all noise you could. Only listened to the kind of metal and screamo that sounded like fuzz, where their lyrics were practically incoherent from their gutteral screams. Played every goddamn Lego game on your Xbox and, yes, you specifically avoided clicking on Lego The Hobbit.

And to be fair, you hadn’t responded to any of the texts Eddie did send that first week. You had hope that he would show up like a knight in shining armor, taking your silence as a chance for him to be a hero—as if that was a justified response. 

Because silence equaled confirmation that you were done. And confirmation that you were done meant that Eddie had to respect whatever boundaries you’d put up. Despite this, you stared at the door whenever you came home. Left a light on in the middle of the night just in case his knock woke you. 

Just in case. Just in case.

But this wasn’t coping.

This was your own personal hell.

Because you also knew about the back and forth with Steve, the hopeful glances and longing stares. The missed chances and opportunities and the stupid, stupid mistakes that you thought about making. You also knew that your relationship with Eddie was going to change significantly. Maybe it already had.

You were leaning up against the side of your car, smoking an emergency cigarette from the pack stashed in your glove box. The anxiety was starting to eat you alive as you really came to terms with the fact that you were going to see Eddie for the first time in nearly a month. And, by the grace of God, you were going to be seeing him sober.

He would probably get there late knowing his finicky Tuesday schedule, sometimes having a longer shift than normal. Maybe he’d be all sweaty and grimy, frustrated and unable to talk to you. Or he could be bright and cheery and make conversation, blind to the magic of your lucky fishnets chosen for tonight.

How would he act? Would everything be okay? Did he even want to talk to you after what happened?

What even really happened?

Maybe he wouldn’t show up at all. 

Would it even be worth it to stay?

The sound of Robin calling your name woke you from your self-indulgent nightmare fuel. You looked up, watching her wave at you with Steve in tow, sporting a white crop top and a deep green button down left open, bracelets galore. Steve was in his work outfit, sleeves rolled up, button down unbuttoned and untucked. Disheveled wife beater clinging for dear life in this weather. Like he was straight out of a quirky 2000s movie. Except he didn’t look exhausted, just slightly tired.

You met them halfway, giving Robin a side hug to keep her away from the smoke.

But as soon as you pulled back, she grabbed the cigarette and crushed it under her Vans. Even went so far as to stomp on it. 

“Rob, seriously?” Steve asked. 

“Gross,” Robin replied, shaking her head at you. “So, so gross.”

You just wanted five minutes of unhealthy coping mechanisms—but you knew Robin was right. Getting back into smoking cigarettes just because you were in a perpetual state of sorrow due to your own actions may not be the best course of action. Maybe that’s why you felt better on your two-week tolerance break from smoking weed. It just felt better to have a clear head, especially if it wasn’t doing well in the first place.

Steve gave you an apologetic look, also giving you a side hug. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” you said. “It’s probably for the best.”

“Should we go inside?” Robin asked, pointing at Go Ask Mary. 

What you noticed as soon as you sat down was that neither of them even mentioned Eddie. Didn’t tell you whether he was still coming or whether he’d be late. The three of you were ten minutes early to the scheduled time, so it wouldn’t be too bad, right?

Steve started chatting you up immediately, (almost unbearably) asking you how you’d been doing and if you’d seen anything good on Netflix or Max lately. You really didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to even look at him. Because if you did, you’d only see betrayal in his eyes, a mere reflection of your guilt.

As if noticing your discomfort, Robin butt in. “Actually, I was watching this documentary on that new NASA thing and apparently there’s this black hole—"

You were starting to feel sick to your stomach and it only increased when Eddie walked into the bar twenty minutes late. 

Despite telling yourself not to, you looked up at him.

He wasn’t grimy or dirty, like he’d showered before coming. Like he felt the need to clean up before, what, coming to a bar on a Tuesday evening? His hair was all volumized and bouncy, face glowing in the dim lighting. A Master of Reality Black Sabbath tee with his jeans and his leather jacket and his chains and his everything…

And despite Robin and Steve greeting him first, Eddie held your eye contact. 

You hated how that made you feel. Like you were the only reason why he was here. Like you were the only reason he was being social and staying out late. Like you made it worth it.

But neither one of you said anything to each other.

The last few weeks had been…quite unbearable if Eddie had to describe it. He spent nearly every night at his phone, talking to Wayne as if he was his therapist. Wayne bit the bullet and comforted him, tried to give him advice about the whole thing. But Eddie was in a fugue state, unable to truly manage his heartache, even with his stashed emergency cigarettes in his glove box. So, when he got the invitation to another karaoke night and Robin promised you’d be there, he made sure to leave work early, take an extra-long shower, and come prepared to talk.

When you said you’d get the first round, Eddie did his best to stay seated.

Because neither of you had said anything to each other and Eddie wasn’t really sure what that meant. He wasn’t even sitting next to Steve tonight because he felt so embarrassed…but what about you?

Because you looked tense, a tight smile on your lips that definitely didn’t meet your eyes. Your grip on your vodka Redbull was starting to concern him, all strained knuckles and shaky glass. Steve and Robin blabbered on, you and Eddie contributing when it seemed necessary, never actually talking to each other. 

By the time Robin said she’d get the second and you jumped at the chance to go for her, he’d given up on being polite.

He reached into his jean jacket pocket to find his black Bic lighter, his holy savior when it came to anxiety and fear. You were ten steps ahead of him, refusing to look back. Refusing to even look up, as if the idea of making eye contact with anyone in Go Ask Mary was borderline criminal.

Eddie glanced at Steve and Robin before standing up.

“Ooh, are you going to go talk to her?” Robin asked, taking a final sip of her first Coke and Bacardi to try to hide her smile. Steve mirrored her, taking a long gulp of his beer as he raised an eyebrow at the man.

The two were the definition of the phrase in cahoots.

Eddie only rolled his eyes in response, turning on his heels to follow your lead. 

You were in nearly an identical outfit to the one he last saw you in, with your black Joan Jett t-shirt replaced with a black Scene Queen crop top. A leather jacket. And there with it, a pleated black miniskirt that swayed with you as you walked, calling attention to your fishnets and maroon Converse. Red lipstick to match. Fucking hell— 

He was utterly weak for you.

And how did he open up a line of dialogue?

“This is awkward, isn’t it?”

You turned to him before looking down, watching the black lighter move between his fingers—always noticing his anxious habits but never truly calling him out. 

“I guess,” you replied, seemingly nonchalant.

But he was getting closer and…was that cigarette smoke on your jacket? Had you been smoking? Eddie thought about asking, but there you were beating him to the punch.

“Emergency cigarette, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Seems like you’ve been stressed about something.”

“It’s all over you, too,” he countered. “I wonder if there’d be a common denominator if we compared notes.”

He didn’t miss the way you scowled before trying to cover up your frustration. “It’s just been tough at work.”

“Oh, so is that why you haven’t texted me in three weeks?”

“Eddie—”

“Hey, it’s just a question,” he said lightly, throwing his hands up.

Before you could say anything, the bartender was sliding you the drinks.

“You left your jacket at my place,” you said as you handed Robin’s card to the guy. “It’s in my car if you want to grab it before you leave. Or earlier if you’d like.”

But Eddie wasn’t one to back down, was he?

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And I don’t intend to,” you stated, scribbling on the receipt before turning to walk away. Eddie noticed you left his and Steve’s drinks behind. With a sigh, Eddie grabbed them and followed you back to the table.

After everyone was a bit tipsy, Robin found her way to the karaoke stage, followed by Steve. You noticed that Eddie was opting out, merely sitting there in silence. He nursed his whisky, nodding along to whatever conversation was happening, even if he was directly spoken to. It was already bad enough that he was sitting closer to you than he did Steve.

Was he trying to make you feel better? Was his silence to keep everyone from feeling weird? Did he tell Steve about what happened, and they were trying to play it cool? Lower the awkwardness? 

Your anxiety was starting to crawl along your skin resulting in you having to take your jacket off. The alcohol doing absolutely nothing to diffuse it. Even if you drank faster. Not that you would ever feel the need to expedite the process of any form of intoxication or inebriation. Not at all. Nope. Never.

But after another dreadful fifteen minutes, you needed out of there. 

Fast.

“I’m going to sing a song,” you announced, interrupting Steve.

Before anybody could respond or react, you shot out of your chair and walked over to the guy by the stage. He sat on a stool behind a podium, his laptop hooked up to a speaker.

“Pick your poison of the night,” he said with a grin. “The Eighties are your oyster.”

“Gladly.”

Eddie watched you scroll through the guy’s laptop, bouncing from side-to-side as you debated your choices. Nodding your head along to whatever he was saying.  

And he just couldn’t help himself from being a pest, from ignoring Robin and Steve, from walking over and ending up behind you.

“What’s the song choice?”

You flinched, turning to look at him with quite a nasty look on your face. 

“Why do you care?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you being so goddamn mean?”

Like before, you gave no answer.

Instead, you grabbed the microphone and stepped up on the poor excuse for a stage. As you lifted your foot, your skirt started riding up. Eddie didn’t mean to look up your skirt in a moment like this, scout’s honor, but he caught a snippet of…your…garter belt?

Were those your…lucky fishnets? No, he had to be mistaken. You already had a few pairs, there was no way you’d worn the lucky ones when you were being this mean.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked him, your voice sounding much, much harsher than it usually did.

“I’m not looking at you like—”

The track started and you shook your head, turning from him to put on a smile and face everyone else but him. 

Eddie didn’t stay, heaving a sigh before walking off to sit back down next to Steve and Robin. 

Clearing your throat, you let yourself groove through the beginning instrumentals, shaking off Eddie’s words and the fact that he didn’t stay to watch. Didn’t stay to show any support or be your biggest fan like always. But this wasn’t about him. 

         “There's a boy I know, he's the one I dream of.

         Looks into my eyes, takes me to the clouds above..."

You were met with a few cheers at the choice of song. Trying to play along, you held onto the cord of the mic, twisting it around your fingers, while moving your hips from side to side. Your pleated skirt moved with you, twisting and turning and twirling wherever you moved. 

For the first time tonight, you smiled.

         “How will I know if he really loves me?

         I say a prayer with every heartbeat.

         I fall in love whenever we meet.

         I'm asking you what you know about these things."

But something began to click in your head.

Because this was absolutely about Eddie. This was exactly how you’d been feeling for the last three years. Every little, tiny thing that had run through your mind whenever you were together. Whenever you were laughing or crying or going on dates that ultimately turned into duds. When you went to the aquarium or the movies or Jailbait Hemp… 

When you were sitting with him for the first time in this exact bar, wondering if he was going to be something more in your life, unable to predict where you’d inevitably be. 

         “Falling in love is so bittersweet.

         This love is strong, why do I feel weak?”

You closed your eyes as you kept going, determined to get through this without having a meltdown. If you just powered through it, then everything would sort itself out and you’d sit back down and Robin would tell you that the song was a good choice and Steve would say some dumb shit. And Eddie—

Eddie would say nothing at all. 

And at the end of the night, you’d tell Robin and Steve goodbye. You’d turn to walk away to your car and hope that Eddie would run up to you and demand to talk. But you’d inevitably be met with disappointment as you reached your car. He wouldn’t grab his jacket. He wouldn’t say a word. And the two of you would fade without a sound. Without even a goodbye. And you’d know then for certain that he never truly wanted to be with you. He’d made his choice.

         “If he loves me…if he loves me not.”

When you opened your eyes, you were shocked to see Eddie near the edge of the stage, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. 

         “If he loves me…if he loves me not.”

He was looking at you the way you hated, the way you secretly loved. Like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

         “If he loves me...if he loves me not.”

He was quiet, not even swaying, letting you sing no matter how terrible it sounded. Just making eye contact with you, watching you. You tried looking away, but nothing else could hold your attention long enough before you were back, trying to make sense as to why he was still there.

And there was something bubbling in your chest, something starting to unfurl.

         “How will I know if he really loves me?”

Something was starting to constrict your vocal cords and you had no way of letting it go.

         “I say a prayer with every heartbeat.”

Especially when Eddie was still standing there, and you were realizing that whatever you two had was over.

         “I fall in love whenever we meet.”

This chapter of your life was coming to a close. 

         “I'm asking you what you know about these things.”

Nothing was going to fix this.

��        “How will I know if he’s thinking of me?”

There was nothing you could do.

         “I try to phone but I’m too shy. Can’t speak.”

Nothing.

         “Falling in love is so bittersweet…”

You started to choke up, sniffling as you looked at Eddie, with his pretty brown eyes and his intense fucking stare and his teeth digging into his bottom lip. Was this the last time you’d ever see each other? Was this truly the end? Was this the last look you’d get of him, forever lodged in your memory as the moment you lost the greatest thing to ever happen to you to someone else? 

         “I feel weak—"

Without hesitation, you dropped the mic, jumping down and running past Eddie. Robin and Steve tried to call your name, but you couldn’t do it anymore. You pushed open the front door into the tangerine glow of the sunset and felt yourself fall apart.

“What are you doing, Eddie?” Robin asked, shaking her head at him as he sluggishly made his way back to the table. “I mean, seriously.”

“This has gotten totally out of hand,” Steve said with a sigh, swirling a straw in his beer bottle.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Robin said sarcastically. “How do you think she feels?”

Steve nodded. “You literally didn’t want to keep going on dates because you’re into her.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed. “You said you were okay with it.”

“I am,” Steve said, throwing up his hands. “I get it. You feel how you feel. No shame in that. But I just think it’s kinda annoying when you’re not even doing anything about it. I mean, seriously, dude. It’s been, what, two weeks?”

“Three and a half,” Eddie corrected.

Steve gestured to him. “My point exactly.”

Eddie felt like an idiot. The way he watched you start to crack onstage, as if you were bending. Breaking. Falling apart.

“Are you really gonna just let her leave?”

Eddie turned at the unfamiliar voice. It was the drag queen that seemed to always be there, Luverne Bell, just out of drag this time. He stood there with his hands on his hips, still wearing a killer manicure. 

“What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Boy, I watched that poor girl thirsting over you a month ago, jealous as hell of that one with the hair,” she said, pointing at Steve before looking back at Eddie. “She sang to you tonight—fuckin’ Whitney Houston, the queen of all queens—and you’re questioning if you should be a big boy and go tell her you love her? Are you that stupid?”

“No, I…” Eddie gulped. “I guess I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Then go, idiot,” Robin said from the table. “You’re literally wasting time.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Don’t fuck it up.”

They were right. Eddie couldn’t back down. You needed him just as much as he needed you.

It felt odd how simple it was. 

Even when he was unsure of your feelings. Even when you had those awkward conversations. Even when he’d be on a date with Steve or talking Robin’s ear off about his frustrations—not to mention Jeff, Gareth, and Grant. (They got much more than they needed to.) Hell, even after you fought and stopped talking for nearly a month. No matter how hard this felt, loving you was simple.

And he planned to keep loving you no matter what.

Eddie nodded before walking towards the door.

He could hear Luverne Bell sigh behind him, saying, “I’m getting that fuckin’ invite to the wedding, so help me God.”

It was all completely hopeless.

This was probably the lowest you’d been in a long time, dramatically running off a stage at your favorite bar in front of the guy who you’d been in love with for the past three years. And now you were too weak to get in your car and drive far away from here, far away from Eddie. 

You tried being an asshole to him, tried to get him to push you away and leave you alone. It would be better that way, giving him a reason to never come near you again. At least then you wouldn’t be tempted to tell him that the sight of him with Steve made you want to throw up. Hell, you already did.

Tears streamed down your face as you lightly hit your head back on the brick wall of the building. You needed to distract yourself. Calm yourself down.

With the las bit of strength you had, you shuffled over to your car to grab another emergency cigarette. You caught the sight of Eddie’s jacket in the passenger seat and nearly screamed, wanting to run over the damn thing out of spite.

Maybe act on impulse and burn the damn thing. 

As if you’d ever actually do it.

You managed to successfully light your cigarette when you heard Eddie call your name. Turning, you could see him looking around to find you before he finally did. He called your name again.

“Don’t leave!” he said loudly. “Come back.”

With messy makeup and even messier hair, you looked him directly in the eye as you walked back over. If this was how everything was to end, you were ready. No matter how fucked up you looked. No matter how fucked up you felt.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“What’s there to say?” you asked, taking a strong drag.

“You can’t keep playing this game with me,” he said, shaking his head. “You really can’t.”

“Go back to Steve,” you choked out, fingers shaking as you took another drag. “I bet he’s better company than I am.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to go fucking be with Steve right now, alright?”

“Why not?” you asked loudly. “He’s all cool and hot and sexy and a big, hot, sexy hot shot. I’m sure he’s better than me in every way possible.”

This earned you another eye roll. “Oh my god.” He covered his face with his hands for a moment, dragging them down to his chin before giving an exasperated sigh. “I don’t see why you care when you’re the one who didn’t answer any of my texts, nor did you answer me when I asked you why like an hour and a half ago.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you lied.

“That’s just a shitty copout at this point.”

“You’re annoying,” you lied again.

“And you’re acting like a dick!” he exclaimed. “An outrageously humongous cockhead!”

You scowled at him. “Oh, I’m the cockhead? Really?”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Real mature. Nice.” You waved him away, taking another drag. “Go back to your boyfriend already.”

“Stop bringing up Steve, oh my god!” he nearly shouted.

A scoff left your mouth. “You’re the one dating him.”

“Yeah, well, I broke shit off with Steve three and a half weeks ago.”

You paused, pulling the cigarette from your lips. “You did?”

Eddie nodded. “Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know,” he said with a breathy sigh, fiddling with his lighter. “Just in love with my best friend over here, no big deal.”

“You’re…” You lost grip of your cigarette as everything began to swirl around you. 

He was…actually in love with you?

“You’re in love with me?”

His eyes widened. “You didn’t know?”

“I…wasn’t sure.”

“Right, even when I almost kissed you, or…?”

“Well…I just thought when you…you said you thought Steve made you happy…” you trailed, losing steam. You couldn’t continue, only shrugging in response before crossing your arms over your chest.

He tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes. “And now here’s the part where you say you’re in love with me, too, right?” You looked up, watching his lips turn up in a small smile. “‘Cause there’s no way I’m interpreting this wrong anymore.”

You looked at him questioningly, nearly playful in nature now, deciding to push him just a little bit further. “Oh, yeah? What makes you so sure?”

“Because tonight I realized that you have been nothing but jealous this entire time and making fun of Steve who, correct me if I’m wrong, you’ve never had a problem with before.” He drew closer, putting his hands over your crossed arms. “And there’s nothing I want to do more right now than kiss you and make all of this stupid middle school drama go away.”

“Are you not worried we’ll lose everything if it doesn’t work out?”

Eddie smirked. “What if I told you that I don’t care about that and all I want is to take you home and cuddle on the couch and watch Lord of the Rings?”

“The extended edition?”

“Literally what else would I be referring to?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose at you, eyes searching yours. “Mm, and why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I’m absolutely, positively in love with you,” you admitted. “That’s why I’ve been looking at you like that for almost four years.”

He grinned. “God dammit, I knew that was what you always wanted to say.”

“And yet you never said anything about it,” you noted.

“Well, I—” Eddie paused before his eyes lit up. “Holy shit. Holy shit! You were gonna tell me that day at the aquarium, weren’t you?” Your mouth opened but you were way too embarrassed to admit to it. He studied your expression before a smirk fell on his lips. “You were! I knew it. I fucking knew—"

So, you kissed him.

Uncrossed your arms and grabbed his face, keeping him from walking away. From running away. From doing anything else than being right here, right now. In your grasp, in your kiss.

And Eddie wasted no time, roughly grabbing your waist and drawing you in, breathing you in. You were trying to process what was happening, but it was all going by so fast. Because his hands were squeezing your hips, fingers flexing as if he was consciously trying not to hurt you. 

Instantly, you couldn’t fathom ever feeling this euphoric. This carnal hunger for something so soft and tender. For finally being able to get to this moment, this aching desire having loomed over you for so long.

Despite this disbelief, you needed to push back, not ready to give away your dominance. Did he even know you? 

You reached a hand down and grabbed his ass, pulling him against you, earning a gasp from him. When you squeezed harder, he jumped and let out a small yelp.

Laughter spilled from your lips as you watched his cheeks turn red, close to matching your lipstick. And you noticed it hadn’t really transferred to his mouth, saving him from more embarrassment. (You thanked whatever God was out there that you’d worn your sturdy lipstick.) 

Even so, your lips were still on his, unable to disconnect. Unable to let them go anywhere.

“You think that’s funny?” he asked, playfully trying to stare you down.

You wrinkled your nose, grinning. “Yeah, I do, actually.”

Eddie wrinkled his back at you. “Yeah?” He mimicked your voice, raising the pitch.

“Oh, yeah.”

Without warning, Eddie pushed you against the brick wall, slotting his thigh in between your legs. You swallowed a whimper, trying to stay quiet. Trying to sustain your dominance. But he had other plans, fingers slowly moving down your side until he grabbed your thigh and lifted it—roughly at first, but then carefully placing it snug around his hip. Delicately, as if the moment was meant to be cherished, as if you were meant to be handled with care. He dragged his fingers down your fishnets before curling his hand around your knee to quickly yank you up juuust a little further.

Eddie was moving his nose against the side of yours, shaking his head. “And what the fuck are you doing wearing these?”

“You don’t like them?” you whispered, pushing him further.

“Are you serious? I’m in love with them,” he admitted. “And you. Very much you.”

 “Told you they were lucky,” you responded with a playful shrug. 

“God, you’re frustrating,” he whispered before his lips met yours again. But he quickly moved, making his way down to your jaw. You wondered if he knew that you were getting dangerously close to losing your grip on whatever abstinence looked like. 

And then he reached the back of your ear and oh—

You let out an involuntary moan, having to lean away from the contact to catch your bearings. If you didn’t, you genuinely thought you were going to faint. 

“Maybe we could do some other things while we watch Lord of the Rings.”

Eddie tipped his head back as he let out a hearty laugh. “And what might that be? Watch the first, second, andthird?”

“It’s a—” Eddie quickly dipped back down, nipping at your neck. “Ah, fuck. It’s a surprise,” you finished, nearly moaning again. “Fuck, not for much longer if you keep doing that.”

“You want me to wait until we’re two and a half hours deep into Mordor?” he asked. “Do you know me at all? That shit is important.”

You shrugged. “Well, you could be two and a half hours deep into this pussy—”

“That was unnecessary,” he joked, shaking his head. 

Your smile widened. “It was kinda funny.”

“Just a little,” he admitted before moving his lips back to your jaw. 

“I could dress up as Sam?” you teased, feeling his teeth carefully grazing your earlobe. Another gasp escaped your lips. “Could call you Mister Frodo if you’d like.”

The vibrations of his laughter made tingles run down your neck.

“An intriguing thought,” he joked. “May I propose a trip to my van?”       

Now you fully pulled away from his face, wondering how serious he was.

“I’m not doing it in a parking lot.”

He feigned offense. “Why not? My van’s right there?”

“Eddie, I’m not having sex in your van.”

He tsked at you, leaving pecks on each of your cheeks. “You’re no fun.”

“How about a compromise,” you proposed, pressing a finger against his mouth. “How about you fuck me beforewe watch Lord of the Rings?”

“Does a joint happen to sneak its way in at some point?” he asked against your finger. You giggled as he removed it but continued to hold on. Smoothed his calloused fingertips over your knuckles.

“One before, one after,” you said matter-of-factly. 

He smirked. “I think I can manage that.”

You kissed him again.

And it really wasn’t so stupid after all.