#C!Gareth

[yanderehighschool-confessions]

I know it's not cannon but I like to think that Gym Teacher Rowan had a small crush on Teacher Gareth :]

-

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Eight

A03

We left off: Eddie has an injured leg, Gareth is concussed, there’s a now injured manticore in Hawkins and possibly a moving gate in the walls of the lab, which is storing mysterious, glowing green goo. Prior to all that, Steve was having a breakdown about leaving Hawkins brought on by his parents returning home.

Gareth has noticed Steve’s “crush” on Eddie, *all* of Hellfire is painfully aware of Eddie’s crush on Steve, and Hopper just showed up to the Byers in Scooby Doo pajamas.

Cue the music.

One minute Hopper was shaking a finger at the pile of children on the couch, spittle flying from his mouth as he demanded everyone both talk and shut up--

(“They can’t do both, Jim.”

“I don’t care Joyce, I--”

“Well I care, and you’re in my house, so I suggest you shut up.”

“Fine, but--”

“Jim!”

“I was shutting up!”)

--and the next Steve had wrapped Gareth’s own hands around a warm mug, quietly leaning into his ear to ask if he was okay.

Gareth nodded jerkily, blinking back to the present, fighting off the panic attack that had dogged him all night.

“Yup. I’m great--good! I’m totally good.”

Steve snorted (a gross but common Steve sound) but otherwise left Gareth with a squeeze of his shoulder, before taking the other mug he had over to Eddie.

Who, Gareth realized, was staring at Hopper with the resigned air of a man glaring down his own executioner.

“What I don’t understand,” Lucas was saying as Steve tried to get Eddie to take a mug, “is what the manticore’s guarding.”

“You didn’t hear the green goo story?” Dustin said conversationally, like this was a Tuesday and not the middle of the night after a monster attack, head craning around to look at his friend.

Gareth had to give it to the kid, he had balls of fucking iron to ignore the look Hopper was shooting his way.

“Green goo?” Hopper butted in, needing an answer but clearly not eager to hear it

(Behind Gareth, Steve had resorted to physically taking Eddie’s hands, and wrapping them around the mug. He kept them there, fingers over Eddie’s as he leaned in, whispering something into the older teen’s ear, clearly trying to get his attention off Hopper.

It didn’t seem to be working until Steve said--or did--something, and then suddenly Eddie was taking in a shuddering, wobbly breath, eyes darting to look up into Steve’s. He took the mug much the same way Gareth had, though he blanked his face out a hell of a lot faster.)

“Glowing green goo. It’s--wait, where’d that guy go, he explained it really well.” Dustin leaned his entire body out from the couch, looking towards the wall of Hellfire members. “Hey, you! Stuck Stewart!”

Grant and Jeff slid away from Stewart immediately.

Who pointedly dumbly towards himself, squawking out a startled, “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Dustin said, like this was a fucking gameshow. “Tell Hop what you told me.”

As Hopper turned to face them with a startled expression, it became evident that he was just now realizing the teenagers in the kitchen weren't the ones he had expected to encounter.

His gaze swept over them in a clinical assessment, as if memorizing their faces so he could write them up later. Each of them let out a sigh of relief when he moved onto the next person, before his eyes landed on Eddie--and stayed.

“Munson?” He hissed, causing half of Hellfire to flinch.

To Eddie’s credit, he didn't react. Just reclined in the chair like he owned it, and raised the mug of chocolate Steve had just let go of.

“Nice jammies, Hop.” He said in lue of a greeting.

“Ignore him.” Dustin demanded, in a tone that had Jeff and Grant both side eyeing him. “The glowing goo is the important thing here.”

He gestured with his hand in a 'get on with it' motion, shooting an impatient look at Stewart.

Who audibly swallowed.

“So there uh, there was a rumor…” Stewart started, the story coming out in jerky, hesitant waves.

He kept looking at Hopper as if the man would interrupt him at any minute, and Gareth couldn’t tell if he was hoping to be cut off or happy to be allowed to talk.

He got it all out though--the rumors about the goo, the weird trucks and people loitering around town.

How a friend (omitting, Gareth noted with muted amusement, that Mikey was both an adult and the Hideout’s bartender) put it all together, spun it up into some crazy conspiracy theory and fed it to half the town’s best gossips.

The entire time Stewart spoke, Hopper was staring Eddie down.

Hellfire didn’t miss it.

Joyce didn’t either, and even Jonathan looked a bit fidgety.

(The kids looked perfectly fine, but then, they didn’t seem to realize Hopper wasn’t exactly focused on the whole goo thing.)

Stewart’s story ended, tailing off awkwardly when it became clear he had nothing else to add, and that everyone was waiting for Hopper to say something.

“Jim…” Joyce started, tone low in warning, which seemed to kickstart the chief back to life.

“Right. So we have one group of dumbass teenagers who went into the lab on a dare,” Hopper drawled, in that “don’t you bullshit me” tone cops just loved to use, “a second group of dumbass children who went in because they apparently, haven’t learned their lesson about meddling in government affairs, and Munson here—-”

Hopper flicked a hand at Eddie.

“—-was involved because his friends called him for help and not because the lab is the perfect spot to get high with a large number of people. Do I have that right?”

They all exchanged a nervous look with one another, but no one said a word.

Hellfire as a whole was used to getting their shit rocked by teachers, shop owners, and occasionally, the cops (usually an idiot who wanted to throw their weight around by busting up band practice or searching a car for drugs).

Pissing off the Chief of police though? That was an activity Eddie typically did solo.

And boy was Hopper pissed off, fury building waves as he leaned in like a predator opening its mouth right before it ate its prey.

“This shit? The Upside Down, monster shit? Isn’t something I screw around with. Especially not when my daughter’s involved. So we’re going to try this again, and this time, I want to hear the truth.”

He held up a hand to halt the explosion of protests from the kids section without bothering to even look in their direction.

“From Munson.” He finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

Eddie answered by taking a noisy slurp from his mug.

Gareth winced, but this sort of back and forth was par the course for a Munson-Hopper encounter, and he knew better than to get in the middle of it.

Steve, apparently, did not.

“Stewart just told you the truth.” He said flatly, giving Hopper a look that was just as stubborn as the chief’s own.

Who very much did not appreciate it.

“Harrington--”

“You said it yourself.” Steve interrupted, holding firm against the chief’s scowl. “The Upside Down isn’t something we screw around with.”

“Tell him, Steve!” Dustin crowed from the couch.

“Shut it.” Steve and Hopper responded in unison, and then did a remarkable job of pretending they hadn’t said a word.

(Gareth had the worst vision of Steve in an alternate life as a police officer. A deputy maybe, with shaved hair, constantly chewing on tobacco and fucking up poor people’s lives. He’d probably have an obnoxious nickname. Like Gator or some shit.

Thank God Hellfire had gotten there first.)

“I was there when they called Eddie.” Steve continued, before Hopper could growl something out. “If we were all doing drugs, we’d still be high, and Eddie wouldn’t have teeth marks in his thigh.”

There was yet another pause, in which Gareth was fairly sure the tension was going to give him a heart attack.

Within it, Hopper did a double take, noting Eddie’s injury for the first time--and how he only had one pant leg, the other replaced by a stark white bandage and pale skin.

“Fine.” He grit out, teeth clenched so tight Gareth thought they might shatter against each other. “Is there anything else I should know about the ‘goo story’ then?”

“You missed the part where El wouldn’t let us call you, because she felt you wouldn’t listen to her.” Mike snarked from El’s right.

“Wonder why.” Max added darkly, from her own spot on El’s left. “Don’t you have a walkie? Why didn’t you answer the code red?”

Apparently, they had decided Steve had won this entire exchange, and it was safe to dogpile on their own displeasure. Gareth was absolutely astounded that the glare Hopper turned their direction didn’t melt them all on the spot.

(Likely, given how this all seemed to be a normal encounter for everyone involved, they were used to it.

Gareth was very much not.)

Hopper whipped his head around to Mike, anger still simmering, “And I’m sure you, Michael Wheeler, didn’t have any qualms about not calling me.”

“He did not want me to go either.” El said bluntly. “I told him you would not listen, and if either of you stopped me, people would die.”

She nodded then, towards Stewart, as if to indicate he was one such person.

For the second time that night, Stewart pointed at his own chest, eyes saucer wide.

“No one else,” El finished grimly, “will die.”

The chief dragged his hands through his hair and then down his face.

“Alright.” He forced out. “I get your point-- but! We’re talking about how you went about this later. Not now!” He added, before the kids could erupt. “Later!”

“So what are we going to do about the Manticore?” Mike spat the question more so than he said it, but Gareth was happy someone was bringing that part up.

Because monster problem or not--what the fuck were they going to do about it?

Since the Chief of Police was here, did that mean the entire police force knew there were monsters in Hawkins? Was there some kind of--monster hunting squad that went around at night?

The more he thought about it the more questions he had, and in turn, the more Gareth’s anxiety threatened to mutiny once again, which was not helped by the concussion he was positive he’d acquired.

Hopper scoffed, “We are not doing anything. We are going back to bed after I call your parents and tell them you’ve been out all night!”

Groans filled the room, the sound of children facing a future grounding, en mass.

“Then,” he continued loudly, “I’ll call Owens.”

“And if Owens doesn’t do anything?” Dustin challenged. “‘Cause he clearly didn’t clean up well last time. Are we just going to let a manticore run around? What if more come through? What if--”

“Just because none of you trust me doesn’t mean I don’t do my job,” Hopper interrupted, “which includes knowing what to do if this shit came back. We adults did discuss that after last time, believe it or not.”

Gareth was old enough to school the doubt off his face, but the kids had no such qualms.

“What Hop means is that we need to have a little more faith in him.” Joyce soothed, and Gareth noticed that unlike a lot of adult men he’d been around, Hopper let her. “He’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“This just means we’re waiting until he falls in a hole again.” Mike stage whispered to Will, who coughed hard to hide his laugh.

“There aren’t any holes this time!” Hopper screeched, voice rising in pitch.

“Okay, okay, enough.” Joyce pacified, moving to stand in the middle of the room (notably,between the harpy children and Hopper). “What’s important is that everyone lived, we know there’s a thing in the lab, and that no one is going back for it until it’s dead. Agreed?”

She paused, and when no such agreements came, hardened her voice in a way that had every person under eighteen snapping to attention. “Agreed!?”

“Yes.” Chorused the children (and at least three members of Hellfire.)

“Good.” Joyce nodded so hard her hair bounced. Putting her hands on her hips, she added; “Now we start the process of getting all of you home.”

“Someone get me the phone, we’re starting with you Wheeler.” Hopper tacked on.

Mike just flung himself back into the couch with a dramatic eye roll and a not so subtle raise of his middle finger.

“As for the rest of you, get out.” Hopper said, weaving past Steve to get to the phone in the kitchen.

A second later, when it was clear no one had moved, he poked his head around the corner.

“Do I need to call all your parents too?” He demanded, as Hellfire dumbly stood there. “Get!”

Hellfire got.

xXx

Hopper grabbed Steve right before he’d left, muttering something about needing to talk to him and Jonathan.

Alone.

Eddie chose to hang back, propping himself on the van's hood, and Gareth, not wanting to go home, opted to keep him company

“Hopper’s not going to eat him.” He whispered, when two minutes dragged into seven and the fidgeting got to be too much for him.

“True, but he's catching hell because Hopper's not buying his story." Eddie retorted, voice equally hushed.

As if raising their voices might summon Hopper and his fiery temper right to them.

"It's nothing we haven't heard before," Gareth remarked, resisting the urge to suggest once more that Eddie get off his leg and go sit in the car.

“There weren't monsters before.” Eddie countered, mouth around a hangnail.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It might.” Eddie muttered darkly. “If Hopper makes it matter, it fucking might.”

“How the hell is Hopper going to make it matter?" Gareth mused aloud, though deep down, he already knew.

Eddie was Hellfire's guardian, both within and beyond the school walls. Being with him meant having a shield to hide behind, protection against the casual cruelty the people of Hawkins were so fond of.

Sure, there were mean kids, nasty teachers, and even the occasional unpleasant gas station attendant, but they weren't the real issue—not by a long shot.

It was the ones who looked at Eddie and truly believed some of the bullshit.

Hopper didn’t act like the church folk. The ones who sent their pastors and youth leaders out on the warpath, knocking on doors and setting up outside of businesses.

Those individuals had attempted to drive away Eddie's friends before, thinking they could "rescue them" in the process—Gareth himself had once endured a week of being stalked by some idiot he had stood up to in Eddie's defense.

The man had made it his mission, and Gareth, too young at the time to know better, had felt helpless as every adult he turned to dismissed the blatant stalking.

All because that "nice" youth leader claimed he just wanted to help.

The asshole had practically hunted Gareth down-- always making himself known, always accompanied by a friend or two. A couple of little comments in his pocket, ready and waiting, and a grin that didn’t match his eyes.

The words he said weren’t threats, but the tone he said them in was.

Eddie got it worst of all of them though, when the church crowd started.

Their attention wasn’t always on him, and truthfully they hadn’t really put any real energy into their own bullshit for a few years now--but they always came back to him.

Like he was an old and favored chew toy, and if they just tried hard enough, they’d crack him in two.

Which meant this wasn’t about what Hopper said.

It’s what he could do.

Thankfully Steve appeared before Eddie could spiral further, looking surprised to see them still waiting.

“Oh.” He ran a hand through his hair as he came down the stairs. “You guys didn’t have to stay.”

Eddie shot him a flat look.

"And leave you alone with Hopper?"

"I wasn't exactly alone, but thanks."

Steve's smile was slight, tinged with relief, and Eddie fell right into him, leaning into Steve's space (and making a show of his limp as he did).

“We were going to ask if you’re coming back with us anyway. Figure you might not want to go back to your place after tonight.” He said, as if he and Gareth had discussed any such thing.

You waited outside just to tell me that?" Steve asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he gently pushed Eddie back. "Ed, you should be sitting in your car, off that leg."

(Not that Steve wanted Eddie to go far, Gareth noted with his own amusement, as Steve stepped to follow.)

"I tried telling him that, but he wouldn't listen!" He tattled to Steve, simply because he could.

He got a middle finger behind Eddie’s back in retaliation.

“I figured it’d piss Hopper right off if I offered you a place to crash right after he warned you away from me.” Eddie said, ignoring the both of them.

“He didn’t warn me away.” Steve said, beginning the process of herding the older teen into his van.

Eddie let out a snort. "Seriously? That wasn't a full-blown 'rethink your life choices, hanging out with trash like him' speech?”

“You’re not trash.”

Eddie snorted again, hasher this time before glancing away.

He was entirely unprepared for Steve to reach out, catching him by the arm much the same way Hopper had caught him.

“Eddie.” Steve said, abruptly serious. “You’re not trash.”

He said it like he meant it, voice low, eyes drilling into Eddie’s.

Gareth couldn't tear his own eyes away, even though that stare wasn't even intended for him.

“No one here is trash,” Steve declared firmly. “Hopper was just asking if Jonathan and I could babysit El for a couple of nights while he’s working. But even if he had tried to tell me I couldn't hang out with you, I would have told him to shove it. Like you said earlier today—we don’t abandon our friends, and we don’t leave them to deal with stuff alone.”

Gareth knew his best friend like the back of his hand and that level of honesty?

It was too much for Eddie, and normally, he’d run.

Was in fact, a little more than infamous for bolting when confronted about his own insecurities.

Maybe it was because Eddie's leg was in no shape for him to run, or maybe it was the reassuring grip of Steve's hand on his arm. It could even have been the intensity in Steve's gaze, as if he could convince Eddie of anything just by staring at him--but Eddie didn’t move.

He didn't even avert his gaze, although Gareth half expected him to.

“If you say so.” He tried to sing-song the words but they fell flat. “Let’s go, the Munson couch awaits us.”

Steve didn’t say anything about how Eddie pulled himself away, backing out of range.

He watched him though.

Even after Eddie had turned around, waving a hand at Gareth to get into the drivers seat.

Steve kept watching until Gareth nudged him out of it, murmuring a quiet “Come on, dude” to get him going too.

Saw the little frown line burrow its way into Steve’s forehead, like he’d figured out part of a puzzle that had long evaded him, and didn’t like the answer he’d come too.

(Gareth himself didn’t have time for any such revelations, given he faced the monstrous task of driving Eddie’s van.

His learners permit quaked in his wallet at the mere thought, but somehow, they made it back in one piece anyway.)

xXx

Steve had reassured them that feeling restless was normal after….

Well.

After.

(There wasn’t a word strong enough to capture the intensity of the last few hours.

Gareth eventually stopped trying, accepting it as a blur of horror, anxiety, and impending dread. It felt like a nightmare that others remembered vividly but faded for him, like a movie becoming less real once you left the theater.)

Their conversation centered around going through the last few years, Steve filling in holes that made life make a hell of a lot more sense compared to all the bullshit the government had come up with.

None of it sounded real, and several pieces had Eddie and Gareth both gawking, but after the lab?

Not a part of it could be easily discounted.

Gareth couldn’t pinpoint when he finally succumbed to sleep.

Hadn’t intended too, and knew immediately upon clawing back to reality that his back was in a world of hurt from the way he’d curled into Wayne’s ancient armchair.

It was still dark outside, the lights warm on the inside of the trailer, and he figured he couldn’t have been out for long.

The blurry red 5:05 from his watch confirmed his suspicions, and Gareth got two seconds to wonder if this is his life now--catching whatever sleep he can in weird little bursts-- before harsh whispering picked up to his left.

The Munson’s living room was small. Small enough for Eddie to know better about how the sound carries, even if he was whisper-fighting.

Or at least, whisper-arguing, anyway.

“I just wish you’d see yourself the way everyone else sees you.” Steve was saying, sounding both bitchy and confused. Like he couldn’t quite believe he was having such a stupid conversation, but was going to point out the obvious anyway.

Eddie wasn’t doing much better, his words as sharp as the knife he’d used to stab the manticore.

“What, as the town freak? The local satanist? The ugly queer who's out to steal the children?”

Gareth managed to sneak a peak in time to see Eddie’s face twisted in disgust.

“Not those assholes--the ones that know you. Everyone that matters.” Steve countered, easily and immediately. “The Hellfire Club, Wayne, Dustin.”

There was a pause, but he could have sworn he heard Steve follow up with a quiet but hopeful, “Me.”

Gareth twisted ever so slightly, giving himself an eyeful of the room.

Both his friends sat on the couch facing each other. They were close, like they’d been sharing snacks or body heat before things had gone south, Eddie’s hands nearly missing smacking into Steve’s face as he gestured.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Steve continued doggedly.

Eddie’s hands froze in air, before he could make whatever gesture he’d intended.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry.” Steve repeated, that painful sincerity Gareth would have never guessed him capable of on full display. “For the part I played in calling you all that shit. You’re none of those things, Eddie. You’re the opposite of all of it.”

The hands dropped into Eddie’s lap, like twin birds shot out of the sky.

“I am, though.” He muttered.

Steve’s frown deepened, his reassurance quick. “No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, Steve. I am.”

“Okay, fine.” Angry, Steve leaned forward into Eddie’s space.

Backed into the side of the couch and wall as he was, it trapped Eddie quite nicely.

“I know the parents down at the church don’t know the difference between D&D and actual demons, but I do. So unless you suddenly learned how to be quiet about fucking ritual sacrifice of all things, then I refuse to buy that you’re a literal Satanist and not just engaging in the drama.”

Gareth saw the moment Eddie realized he was pinned, that he wasn’t getting out of his conversation without shoving Steve back.

Knew this was building into a blow up before Eddie’s mouth even opened.

“I’m not a Satanist, but I definitely am queer.” He shot back, eyes hard. “So you can shove whatever grand ideas you’re having about my character back up your ass.”

Gareth hadn’t moved much, years of living with his siblings making it possible to watch what’s happening without alerting anyone in the room that he was awake, but he almost ruined it with how quickly he sucked in his own breath.

Steve was a good guy.

Had been a good guy to them, but there have been plenty of other “good guys” Gareth knew who suddenly weren’t so great the second Eddie’s sexuality came up.

It’s why Gareth himself hadn’t often admitted to his own muddled sexuality, too afraid of getting the same bullshit aimed his way.

Why would anyone want to pursue men, after watching more than a few realize they liked Eddie and promptly lose their shit so hard they became a danger to any man who so much as looked at them the wrong way?

It was terrifying--and so was the realization that Gareth can’t kick Steve’s ass. 

He doesn’t want to even try, but gets himself ready for emotional upheaval anyway--and whatever may come after.

Even if they’re all dead on their feet from fighting a literal monster.

‘Excellent fucking timing Eds.’ He thought sourly, despite the guilt of thinking it. It’s not Eddie’s fault--and Steve’s reaction, whatever it may be, isn’t either.

'God does it suck to be gay in a rural ass, small town.'

Thankfully, Steve doesn’t pull away.

Doesn’t act like Eddie’s got a contagious disease like some of the basketball team does, or like it’s his God given duty to either rid the earth of him now that Eddie’s finally admitted to what half the town has accused him of being, or have some violent crisis over his own clearly repressed gay crush. 

Is still very much in Eddie’s space, even if he’s being awfully quiet--for long enough that Gareth can see Eddie start to shut down.

“Okay.” Steve said finally, clearly knowing he needs to say something but seemingly struggling to figure out what, “But you’re not evil, and you’re definitely not stealing children, so you’re beating out the US government.”

“Oh boy, I beat out the government that’s kidnapping and torturing people! Such a high bar.”

Steve winced. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah? What did you mean then?” Eddie challenged. “We both know you’re not the kind to want to associate with the queers.”

“I didn't, I--” Steve took a breath, fumbling and knowing it. “I know I've been an asshole in the past, and I also know I was wrong."

He stared hard at Eddie. "I don’t care if you’re gay. That doesn’t, that shouldn’t--matter.”

Eddie met his gaze. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

Between them sat all the times Steve, or a former friend of his, decided a random victim was queer. The knowing smirks and taunts that followed after they spewed out various slurs.

How some of the rumors they started stuck around. 

Steve had never really engaged with a lot of the bullying people often attributed to him as King of the Jockstraps, but he wasn't an innocent bystander either, and Gareth couldn't fault Eddie for challenging that change of heart. 

Even now, after Steve had long vacated his throne. 

“Well that sucks for you then, doesn’t it?” Steve snapped. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Munson. You can mack on some dude all you like, and I’m still going to be there to remind you you’re not evil for doing it. Or for being into nerdy shit and terrible music!”

“My music isn’t terrible!” Eddie screeched automatically.

Gareth anticipated Eddie calling out Steve on his obvious bait—seriously, that wouldn’t have worked in a game even with a nat 20—but found himself underestimating Steve's bantering skills as their ex-jock just plowed right ahead.

“It is! It’s just--screaming. Screaming with loud ass guitars!”

“Oh my God, I am going to sit you down and make you listen to so many albums. The screaming is a core part of the range of emotions in the songs--”

“Range? Eddie there isn’t any range, it’s just dudes who are angry--”

“Fuck you, it is not!” Eddie was howling, both of them too into their argument to remember they were trying to be quiet to begin with.

“I bet you five dollars! Five entire dollars, that you could not find me a singular song I like out of your entire metal collection.”

“Ten dollars! And the largest Pizza this shithole town has to offer!”

“Deal!” Steve shouted, chest heaving.

They breathed together for a moment, before the tension between them fizzled out, fading into something more uncertain.

Delicate, even though Gareth was fairly certain Steve had expertly maneuvered Eddie right where he wanted him.

Eddie seemed to realize it too, folding back into himself as he tugged a finger around his hair, pulling it in front of his face.

“You really wouldn't care if I kissed a guy in front of you?” Eddie's question isn't overtly vulnerable, but Gareth knows better.

He understands the significance of this.

Of Steve’s acceptance, more than anyone else's.

The jock had become so deeply bonded to them—all of them—that the rejection would wound Eddie in a way few could truly understand. Crack his otherwise impenetrable shield, the ricochet tearing through a substantial portion of his resilience.

“And I'd probably tell you to find a room, but hey, I said that to Tommy and Carol too,” Steve retorts, nudging Eddie's thigh.

Eddie rewards him with a small smile

Steve seems to know more is needed, and offers it up right alongside his heart. “I’m serious. I know I kinda butchered it but--the queer thing shouldn’t be a problem to begin with. It’s stupid that it is.”

"Steven Harrington, did I just witness personal growth?" Eddie teased, his smile widening. "What's next, admitting that college sports are ridiculous?"

“Don’t be a dick,” Steve scoffed, but his own smile mirrored Eddie’s as he looked away. 

Despite his head still partly tucked into his arm, Gareth found himself grinning.

It was a welcome relief after an otherwise horrific night.

Sensing it was now or never, Gareth made a show of untangling himself, stretching upward with a moan that startled both Eddie and Steve.

“Be careful saying that shit, Steve,” He said, jerking a thumb towards his best friend. “He’ll take it as an invitation to make out with people in front of you.”

Eddie gasped, hand flying over his heart in mock offense.

“I would never!”

“He’s a real horndog, once he even tried to make out with a guy on stage on top of my drumset.” Gareth continued, sticking out his tongue.

He deserved the pillow thrown his way but Gareth took the hit with grace, laughing as Eddie huffed at him.

“For the last time I wasn’t making out with that guy, he was trying to punch me!”

“With his mouth?”

“With his head, which you damn well know."  Eddie accused, clawing blindly for another pillow. "Gareth you are shameless, how long have you been listening in!?”

“As much as I enjoy the calming effects of mindless screaming, I'd wager it was when you guys conveniently forgot I was in the room."

“I take it you uh, know?” Steve injected hesitantly, eyes moving between Eddie and Gareth and oh--oh, he was being protective.

'That’s cute.' Gareth thinks.

Even if he’s rolling his eyes at the very idea that he posses any kind of threat.

“Dude, I clocked Eddie before he clocked me.” He said, just to take some heat from Eddie--and because it was one of the few opportunities where he could say it. “We’ve spent many a math period discussing if Sting was hotter than Axl Rose.”

If Eddie can be brave, Gareth could too.

“You did not.” Eddie spits back, the offense mounting. “You absolutely did not clock me first you lying liar--”

“Oh.” Steve blinked, finger flicking out between them as if he’s connected two dots and feels awfully stupid about not seeing it before. “I uh, I didn’t, are you guys--”

And oh, the horror that crashes into Gareth when he figured out what Steve was asking.

“No! God no.” Gareth shuddered, delighting in the way Eddie’s jaw crashed down at the sight. “And if I ever consider it, I need you to take me out back and shoot me, Steve. Right between the eyes, for the greater good.”

“Wow Gary, just stick a knife in my back why don’t you--”

“I’m gonna be real,” Steve cut in, before they could fake-argue their way into a real fight, “I never actually thought about liking both. Guys and girls, I mean.”

He blushed, as both Gareth and Eddie turned to look at him.

“Oh Stevie,” Eddie cooed, “there are so many more options than just "liking both.”

He made air quotes with his fingers, attention immediately diverted away from murdering Gareth with whatever objects he could grab. 

Steve gave him a side eye that was more than well deserved.

“I feel like I don’t want to know.” He said flatly.

“Too late.” Gareth told him, resigned. “You get to hear the speech now.”

“There’s a speech?”

“Steve, it's me. Of course there’s a speech.” Eddie tutted, resettling himself on the couch so that he’s sitting cross legged. “It’s an hour long so strap yourself in big guy, we have a lot of ground to cover!”

Crisis firmly averted, Gareth curls back up in the chair, tired smile on his face as Steve and Eddie go right back to bantering, the tension having vanished from the room.

This is a rare outcome, given their life and the world they live in, but one Gareth’s incredibly thankful for.

Can’t quite believe it, but then, King Steve had surprised a lot of them ever since he’d hung up his crown.

Perhaps Hellfire was a good influence on people after all.

xXx

Bonus

Back at the Byers, outside on the front porch, Hopper and Joyce were arguing over a cigarette.

(They both believe they’re being very quiet about it, but the pillow Jonathan had jammed over his ears said otherwise.)

“Remind me to make you work on your approach with disciplining children.” Joyce was saying, as she snatched the cigarette out of Hopper’s hands.

“What?! I thought that went pretty well considering they broke back into the lab and almost killed themselves.” He responded, waiting until she’d taken a deep inhale before trying to get it back.

“And I’m sure taking potshots at the poorest kid in the room was a necessary part of that process. It’s probably written down in the police handbook, even.”

“I wasn’t taking potshots Joyce--”

“No, of course not, you were just throwing random criticism and assumptions around, willy nilly and--oh, wait, that’s the exact definition of a potshot--”

“He deals drugs! Look me in the eyes and tell me Munson doling out weed doesn’t make more sense then the lot of them chasing down some--some goo story!?”

There’s a weighty pause, in which one can only imagine Joyce Byers face says more words than her mouth ever could.

It was very impactful.

“I mean--okay, maybe not our kids, but the teenagers?” Hopper’s voice dives into a disbelieving kind of whine, reserved for those who are aware the point they’re arguing may in fact, be wrong, but are desperately defending it anyway. “Come on. Drugs is the clear answer!" 

“Even if that was what was happening, then you shouldn’t be discussing it in a room full of children who have survived what those kids have, Jim. It could have been a separate conversation, given in a much calmer and less threatening tone of voice.”

“Oh my God, Joyce--”

“Don’t you ‘oh my God!’ me, you asked for lessons on being a better parent and I am holding you to them!”

There’s a brief scuffle over the cigarette, as both seem to realize Joyce is letting it smoke out in her hand.

She does not stop talking however, even as their hands slap at each other. 

“That includes parenting the teenagers in this town, because in case you haven’t noticed, you’re the Chief of police! So you signed up to see them all at their worst, and you get to deal with the fallout of that!”

“Fine! Fine. I’ll apologize to the goddamn high school drug dealer. Is that what you want!?”

“Yes!”

Another pause, this one filled with that awkward sort of tension when an argument has fizzled out, and neither party knows quite where they stand with each other yet.

“What voice am I supposed to use?” Hopper mused, finally winning the bid for the cigarette and jamming it into his mouth.

“Anyone except the grumbly bear voice.”

“The grumbly bear voice?”

“You know,” Joyce drops her own voice in a comical rendition of Hopper’s, “How dare you kids run off! You’ll be the death of me and this town!”

She laughs, and Hopper, shockingly, laughs along with her.

“I don’t sound like that.” He defends, bumping Joyce gently with his shoulder, and she in return, bumps him right back.

Both of them grinning, both of them blushing a little.

They keep talking, the cigarette eventually put aside and forgotten as they do.

Truth be told, they hadn’t needed it--but the excuse was nice.

(Inside, Jonathan rolled the pillow on top of his face in a suffocation attempt, unsure of what he’d done in life to deserve all this but desperately wishing he didn’t have to listen to his mother flirt.

Or worse--Hop flirting back.)

[aarontveit]

RANDOM GARETH RITTER GIFS: 112 / ∞

[leclercskiesahead]

Oh so he can score AND save penalties okay

Scuderia Ferrari Instagram stories 04.07.24

[ageofgeek]

Bond falls victim to what I am now calling "Steve Rogers Syndrome," where a main character throws away his found family (which the audience has become much more attached to) in favor of a bland, boring, nuclear/heterosexual life. Just because Bond doesn't get his "happy ending" doesn't mean that he doesn't fall into this trope.

I think a lot of people would agree with me when I say that Bond & Madeline have no chemistry. They had no chemistry in Spectre and they continue to have none in NTTD. And yet, we're supposed to care about their relationship because 1) the narrative (i.e. Bond) tells us, instead of shows us, that he loves her, and 2) there is a child (which the narrative also tells us that we should care about).

But the truth is that Bond doesn't trust Madeline. Not really. The second he's attacked by Spectre, he immediately blames her and doesn't even question if he's wrong (and she doesn't really try to convince him otherwise). Now, you may chalk this up to Bond not trusting anybody, but here's where we get to the found family: because he does trust his MI6 family, implicitly, immediately.

He trusts Eve enough to tell her about the scientist, Feliks, what happened in Cuba, etc., and to ask for her help. He trusts Q so much that he gives him the flashdrive he recovered in Cuba, he stays with Q in his apt while he's in London, he places his life in Q's hands multiple times throughout Skyfall, Spectre, and NTTD. He trusts Mallory - even after knowing his shadiness with Herakles, he still trusts him enough to go back under his command. He even trusts Nomi after only a few days of meeting her - enough to trust her to have his back on the island, enough to trust her with Madeline and his child.

So the fact that Bond doesn't trust Madeline is a huge, huge red flag. To me, the "trilogy" of Skyfall, Spectre, and NTTD were all about establishing Bond's support system and family within MI6. In Casino Royale and QoS, he really only had M, and no other connections to MI6 beyond her. But starting with Skyfall, he begins to build a support network of people he does trust in MI6, and the audience begins to trust them (and love them) along with Bond.

This simply doesn't apply to Madeline, because Bond doesn't trust her, and so the audience is never shown why we should trust her or love her.

[mindful-mateo]

continued from here

He could sense and smell the other person much more acutely than usual and even before he spoke but Mateo was unused to that so he still jumped a little, glancing quickly over at Gareth. He recognized him, they'd had a conversation before, and obviously he was Finn's master. Also, honey pot? That was the least of his concerns right now as he assessed the master. Should he tell him what was going on? Would he even be believed? "Just...not feeling like myself." An understatement if ever there was one. "Actually...because I'm not. I'm not Finn? Someone must have done some sort of Spring Mischief and I've never woken up as someone else before, so..." Mateo trailed off, knowing he was rambling hopelessly and wondering if there was even a point. There was so much more to being in Finn's body than just looking and sounding like him, too, like all the unfamiliar abilities and so much magic. That alone was going to make him twitchy.

@garethbradbury

[ronismerrell]

——- So with it being summer and maybe people, myself included, really enjoy traveling — tell me your favourite places to travel to. also can i ask how you like to spend your free time in case your not the travel type ? ( @garethsouthgate-hf )

[gingerpeachtea]

obsessed w how this bitch always has some kind of look on his face

[ravencromwell]

Finally decided to indulge in the Siuan/Moiraine meta I've been wanting to write for ages now, musing on the differences in psychology ensuing from their significantly different arcs within the book and show and why Siuan's actions at season 2's apex are entirely in psychological sync with her show portrayal, even if they swerve wildly from the books.

Let's start with some Siuan back-story context. In the books, Tear was undeniably an unfriendly city for those with the One Power. But that translated, in practical terms, to Aes Sedai keeping their stays there brief, and girls who could touch The Source being quickly bustled off to the Tower. There were no Aes Sedai advisers, as in other kingdoms etc., but neither was there the virulent hostility of the show.

Siuan left Tear quickly in the books—the first day she was discovered to have the Power, but only because a sister was traveling through and didn't wish to delay returning to The Tower for such pesky things as sentimental goodbyes. Was that harsh? Absolutely. But the world of the books is exceedingly harsh in some respects, giving girls little to no choice about becoming Sisters, should they be discovered harboring abilities. (Much of Nynaeve's back-story involved hiding her powers precisely because she didn't fancy being ripped from The Two Rivers.)

Siuan faces a much different harshness in the show. The show doesn't do a great job explaining this, but The Dragon's Fang, which is etched onto Siuan's door before her house is unceremoniously torched, is a sign of immense contempt for Dark Friends. Within show Tear, a wary mistrust of Aes Sedai has curdled into something much more dangerous. All use of The Power is suspect, because if men's half was tainted, there's nothing to say women won't go suddenly mad, too.

It's worth remembering as well here that book Siuan was roughly fifteen when she went to The Tower. Now, I'm totally blind, and audio description doesn't give me an age for tiny show-Siuan, but if she's anywhere near puberty, I'll eat my metaphorical hat. And instead of being shepherded to The Tower, she had to flee for her life.

In her family's only means of support, I might ad. Book Siuan was by no means well-to-do, but she was firmly in the middling ranks of the working poor. Show Siuan's family are on the fucking destitution brink y'all. And she took her father's livelihood. Dying destitute ain’t fuckin pretty.

Siuan is not a stupid kid, and she clearly adores the shit out of her papa. The first thing that little girl did the millisecond she got any privileges? Wrote to her papa.

And more than likely, Berden never wrote back. It wouldn't take her long to figure out what'd happened. Moiraine is at great pains to tell Alana Jenny was not "her" support dog, and we laugh it off as oh, look at Moiraine being all adorably prim. Which in one sense, it totally is. But I'd almost guarantee you there's a deeper layer there: it wasn't "hers"; it was "theirs" because once Siuan found out her beloved papa was dead, they both needed something to cuddle.

This may seem like somewhat of a digression, but I'm maundering on because in the books yes, Dark Friends are evil. But they're evil because they caused a terrible cataclysm many thousands of years ago that killed lots of people, and they wanna do it again. There's no personal skin in the game for our beloved ladies, except they get thrust into the job through a convergence of some very complicated circumstances—I'd recommend any show-only watchers read "New Spring" because while I love almost all the changes the show has made ferociously, the way Siuan and Moiraine undertake the search is vastly more plausible as presented by Jordan there.

For Siuan in the show, by contrast, Dark Friend has _very personal ramifications. Dark Friends caused the corrosive mistrust that got her papa _killed! And Moiraine, better than _anyone, knows how that broke her.

And she _knows full well she could be deposed simply for having a relationship with Moiraine. The sensible thing to keep all the awful people from committing terrible crimes that will reverberate down the centuries to impact a little girl just as she was impacted would be to keep both their noses clean. And yet, she loves Moiraine so much that she'll take that risk to maintain not only an alliance about Rand, but a romantic relationship which could, realistically, be discovered much more easily.

And now, Moiraine, the woman who parroted back her beloved father's words of farewell about how Siuan was as clever as a pike and strong as the tides seemingly willfully lied; seemingly became a _Dark _Friend. Even her admonition that Lanfear is "too strong" must bring up so many awful questions: just how long have they been working together for her to know that? Because from Siuan's perspective, what it looks like is Lanfear coming in, guns blazing, to save her accomplice, Moiraine.

When Siuan says that there are rules and they have to abide by them, it's reflecting profoundly deep fears—not only about what Rand could do, but the kind of hatred toward those with The Power it could foster. For twenty years, she's put those fears aside. And now it appears that her going against Tower Law has lost her Moiraine to the Forsaken, and made terrible outcomes nigh on inevitable. And people are really confused about why she looks beaten?

Hell, from her perspective, forget Lanfear's entrance. The very fact Moiraine seemingly lied to her and is now talking about love must seem such a cruel mockery: laughing at Siuan's weakness; just as, perhaps, she was laughing at her with that parting comment in The Tower: an Amyrlin Seat still so swayed by what her papa told her so many years ago. (Yeah, we know it was as close as she could come to an I love you, but how the hell is Siuan supposed to know that, given everything?) This was not willful emotional abuse on someone she knew to be acting in good faith, but a reaction to the person she loved enough to risk the fucking Amyrlin Seat for becoming a monster!

Do I wish they'd picked _any other direction for their relationship? Yes, yes I damn well do. There was plenty to play with for angst factor by having the coup go down as it does in the books: Moiraine not being there to save her when all Siuan wanted was more time together, for one thing. Moiraine needlessly obfuscating in front of Siuan and  the other Sisters in S1, when Leandrin already knew! about the Two Rivers folk. Thinking she was being canny, when all she did was get herself pointlessly exiled so she couldn't protect Siuan? Quite enough of an angst sandwich, thanks ever so, without this new development. But! if they were going to include this, Siuan reacted precisely as I would expect her to, given the context I've outlined above, not in some madly ooc fashion worthy of the tags descending into emotional abuse discourse.

[heavencasteel420]

For the unwritten/unpublished ask game thing, 4 and 5. Preferably that vibes-based Lucas story you've mentioned.

Thank you for asking!

4. Something I'm unsure about including: there might be a love triangle that would require some careful handling regarding race, class, and gender. The fic would be set during fall of freshman year. Lucas and Max aren't going out in any formal sense--she won't go on dates with him or do PDA at school or call herself his girlfriend--but sometimes she'll hang out with him in her trailer home and they'll make out. He wants more than this, but that's about all she can give and he takes it because he misses her terribly. Meanwhile, more girls at school are starting to notice him, because he's good-looking and he's on the basketball team. Patrick, looking out for his younger teammate, introduces him to freshman girl Danielle McCorkle. She's pretty, ladylike, and way into 4-H; the McCorkles are the established black farming family in Hawkins.

(Side note: in the social world of Hawkins, most of the well-to-do black families are farmers who have been around for one hundred years or more and live out in the country; the McKinneys are another example. There is a smaller group of newer arrivals like the Sinclairs--doctors, lawyers, accountants--who are scattered throughout the nice developments, plus some working-class black families who are mostly clustered in one okay-ish neighborhood near downtown.)

Lucas goes with Danielle to a dance, but he feels conflicted about it. He's still hung up on Max, who gives her blessing but kind of sulks about it, but Danielle's really sweet and cute and, you know what, it is cool that she knows so much about how to grow different kinds of peppers even if he never really thought about that kind of thing. At the same time, he starts to feel like he's being encouraged to date her by more than one of his teammates because they're way more comfortable with him dating a black girl from a nice family than a poor, "weird" white girl like Max. Which is one thing coming from Patrick, who's also just trying to get by as a black kid in a majority white school (and who, it turns out, feels protective of Danielle, a younger family friend, and doesn't want Lucas to treat her as second-best), but a lot more infuriating when it's the white guys on the team. They're not like Billy--they wouldn't tell him it's wrong to date a white girl, let alone try to kill him over it--but they're still more prejudiced than they think.

I don't think there's any big fallout--the relationship with Danielle just kind of trails off and Max continues to drift away--but both girls end up feeling slighted, partly for class/race reasons. Max is like "of course he wants Danielle, she's so pretty and perfect and her family isn't a disaster area" and Danielle is like "I try so hard to look the right way and act the right way, and he'd still rather moon over a white girl who doesn't even want him around." And, while neither girl is really being fair to Lucas or understands whether the other girl is coming from, their insecurities are based in real-world prejudices that they have suffered. And I really want to be fair to Danielle, who is getting an incredible amount of shit as a black girl in-universe and doesn't have built-in audience sympathy because she's an OC.

5. Is there any scene I'm excited about writing: not to sound like a sicko, but I am jazzed to give Lucas PTSD and make his (attentive! loving!) parents pretty flawed at handling it, partly because they're working with incomplete information and partly because they never really unpacked Charles's own bout with Vietnam-War-related PTSD shortly after Erica was born. Like they are both trying to help and dissuade him from being down on himself for having trauma, but they won't get him professional mental health care because then it becomes Too Real to them.

Also, he's going to find a hobby that's just for him, that he's pretty sure that no one in his life is going to understand and that he's starting pretty late if he ever wants it to be more than a hobby, but it's all his!!! He gets unexpected encouragement from two people (Max and a surprise person!).

[tcnebris]

@royal-descent

Their victory was swift and clean. Minimal casualties on their side, with little damage to the ship's hull aside for some cannonball cracks to be patched up. Amos, covered in sweat, gunpowder and – well, blood, laughed like a madman as the adrenaline of battle coursed through him still.

The pirates didn't know that the Belegnon ship was transporting, but judging by how they fought, it had to be valuable: their navy didn't surrender until it was over. One by one, the remaining enemy survivors were pulled from the water and made to kneel side by side on the deck as part of the crew hastily looted their ship before it sank. He and his buddies messed with them, spitting in their faces, pushing them to the ground and laughing as they stole their belongings.

Amos already had his burly hand wrapped around a gold necklace when he glanced at it's owner, smile quickly fading. He recognized the kneeling boy in front of him, and it was only a matter of time before the others did too. Looking around, his smile gave way to a more somber, intimidating expression."This one's mine." he shouted at the others. "Get up." Pulling the boy up by the gold chain, his large frame towered over him, the pirate stepped closer to Gareth, so close that he would surely be able to smell the alcohol on his breath and sweat that coated his bulging muscles.

"You're mine now, little prince. None of these men will lay a finger on you." With that, he smiled, though the look in his eyes remained just as sinister while he grabbed Gareth by the neck, guiding him downstairs and into his quarters.

[yanderehighschool-confessions]

!!!Spoiler warning for anyone who hasn't finished YHS yet!!!

-----

If Gareth and Salex's ghosts appear and were set free due to Yuki's """death""", what about Rowan and Paul's ghosts? It'd make a lot of sense if they appeared as ghosts too since Yuki killed them like she did Salex.

-

[hqgaga]

connection ✉️ gareth s.

stef: Gareth! It's nice to meet you, and maybe celebrate the beginnings of a new friendship. stef: You're a football coach? How's your season been so far for your team? @garethsouthgate-hf

[aarontveit]

RANDOM GARETH RITTER GIFS: 115 / ∞

[brooklynislandgirl]

📸 (Gareth)

I see your face every time I dream || -

[glenpowcll]

Mate! A little birdie is curious to know what one prefers more. 1) Playing the wonderful sport of soccer or 2) Being a general manager of a soccer team? What are the perks of both and the disadvantages of both?