#So they My Fair Lady-ed me

[hawkinstales]

I would like for you to envision something adorable with me, okay? Let's go on the journey together.

Let's say you are a customer of Eddie's, right? The first note he received in his locker from you was a few weeks into senior year — your first, his third. The first dealings of many between the two of you, as time goes by the deals become more frequent, last a bit longer.

A friendship blooming, growing into something exquisite — but the never ending interactions only happen in the forms of deals. Never a date, or a phone call.

Stealing glances, inches apart — never to touch, never to taste. Not for a moment, no none at all. The spark extinguished.

A night out with friends at the annual fun fair — hands in your jacket, lips turned up in a small smile, listening to your friend ramble about her newest crush as you wait your turn to ride the ferris wheel.

You didn't feel the gaze of loving, auburn eyes admiring you from a far. Eddie clocked you in the ticket line — a few groups behind you, he fought the urge to run up to you. To merge groups, ultimately leading to the two of you going off by yourselves.

Alas the scared, little boy inside kept him at bay — fills him up with insecurity and hesitation, settling for glimpse of you.

He keeps an eye out for you, listening for your voice or laugh.

He watches from the booth — Jeff and Gareth battling it out at balloon darts, trying to see who could pop the most. His heart thumps, faster and harder against his ribs cage as if trying to escape, trying to get to you.

His heart wanted nothing more than to burst from his chest, run towards you, mesh into your own heart, returning to its rightful place.

Eddie couldn't fucking take it anymore — it was time for him to go home.

He walks up behind you — quietly, a smirk on his lips. His callous palms cover your eyes, body melding with yours as his chin rest on your shoulder.

He's about to whisper in your ear, only for you to speak first. "Eddie?" You ask, baffling him. You whirl around to face him, smile crinkling your sparkling eyes. "You're here!"

His smile mirrors yours, hands finding refuge in the back pocket of his ripped jeans, shoulder shrugging as his feet sway. "Yeah, came with the guys."

"Think they mind if I steal you for a ride on the ferris wheel?"

He doesn't bother looking back towards his friends, waving them off as he mumbles about them under his breath. "Lady's first." He gestures, holding out his hand to help you into the ride. It goes around once, twice, stopping at the top on the third go. You slide closer to Eddie, admitting your fear of heights.

"I got you, sweetheart."

He slings his arm around you, pulling you into his side as close as possible. You nuzzle into him, looking up at him — gaze stuck on his lips, soft and plush.

Tempting. Oh, so tempting. And, to put simply, you just couldn't resist any longer. You lean in, hoping he'd get the hint. Boy did he, smashing his lips to yours.

He pulled away once out of breath — forehead smushed against yours, nose nestled with yours, matching smiles as his thump caresses your cheek. The spark blossoms, igniting into a wildfire. Another kiss, parting at the jerk of motion as the ride starts to descend. "Win me a teddy bear, Eds?

"If my girl wants a teddy bear, she gets a teddy bear."

And he most certainly does win you that teddy bear — after the fifth attempt, at least.

[isekai-crow]

Mashle Ending Cars

My Beetle is a massively certified mechanic in Japan who is a bit of a motorcycle fanatic. (I cannot emphasize how much I am understating the term FANATIC here.)

So naturally since I know nothing about cars and they're tangentially related to motorcycles, I asked him to tell me the names of all the cars in the ending, and he did well.

Mash - Nissan Fair Lady's Z 2008 model - He was able to get this one immediately and was like, "Anyone who knows their cars would know this immediately."

Lance - Beetle thought it was a Mazda RX-8 but it might be an import model - We guessed a Ferrari, but a lot of them have different headlight shapes.

Dot - Jeep Wrangler. Thats it. No numbers for you lmao

Finn - Morgan Plus 4 (had to google this one because too many similar looking classic cars and this STILL doesn't look exactly right.)

Rayne - Rolls Royce Phantom III baybee

I LOVE THAT THE AMES BROS HAVE CLASSIC OLDIE CARS. THEY'RE SO STYLISH. We already know that Finn is the only one in the main group with any sense of style and THIS JUST PROVES IT. I wanna go for a spin with him.

(Also classic cars as SO. FUCKING. EXPENSIVE. to own in Japan. The older your car is the more you pay in taxes. Which I wonder if it means anything here...)

Draco Malfoy Ryoh Grantz- Mercedes-Benz Vision Gran Turismo or one of the other versions. This also took a bit of googling cause he could only pin the Brand Name and not the car itself cause it's too new.

Harry Potter Orter Madl- Ashton Martin Vanquisher (THE NAMING SENSE. DID THEY PICK THIS CAR SOLELY FOR THE NAME VANQUISHER???)

Carpaccio - Porche Boxster - He picked up on the headlights immediately because we had a low budget Porche at one point, inherited from his brother.

Margarette Macaron - BMW r100 - This was of course the fastest on he pinned and AHHH MY BELOVED MARGARETTE they're so cool for riding a motorcycle.

Also.

The Mash's dads on a driving date.

Love that for them. So sweet.

And fucking of course this is a euphamism for magic and MASH IS THE ONLY ONE WITHOUT A DRIVER'S LICENSE SO HE'S PUSHING THE CAR.

AND THAT CAR IS IN PARK AND/OR HAS THE BREAKS ON because of course it fucking does why am I surprised lmao

This song is a banger too. When I get around to it, I wanna do a break down of the lyrics to this and other OPs and EDs.

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, Reader breaks up Eddie bc her mom forced her too, she didn't want her daughter, captain of there cheer squad to be with Eddie Munson, both of them are having a bad time without each other, reader can't sleep bc she feels guilty, and she ends up going with her best friends: Robin and Steve, she explains to them what happened and all about her mom, Steve and Rob make a plan, at the end Robin tells reader that she needs to go to the drama room, where Eddie is, and she locks them in there , and Eds says he doesn't want to lose her and that he loves herand they start dating again, despite Reader's mom being pissed off

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Mom

The second Y/N set her eyes on Eddie Munson it would cause nothing but trouble for herself. He looked like a boy she shouldn't bring home to mom. But that didn't stop her from falling in love.

She spent months sneaking out of her window, Eddie waiting for her in his van. They'd sneak off to anywhere they wanted. She was smitten with him and she couldn't believe he felt the same for her. She knew her mom wouldn't approve, Eddie lived too much of a different lifestyle. He wasn't born rich, wasn't at the top of his classes, and he did things her mother would never support. But she loved him and she wanted to make it work.

She knew she couldn't sneak past her mom for too long, she'd get caught. But she wasn't prepared to lose Eddie.

"Who do you keep sneaking off with?" Y/N froze as she climbed into her bedroom. Her mom was waiting for her on the bed.

"Chrissy is having boyfriend troubles, and I know you wouldn't let me see her but she needed me." Y/N lied, taking off her shoes

"Funny enough, I called Chrissy's mom, and Chrissy was sleeping. So who were you with?" Her mom pushed. Y/N panicked as she was caught in her lie. Chrissy always lied for her but she didn't think about Chrissy's mom ratting her out.

"No one! I needed a walk to clear my head. All this perfect daughter shit is draining me. I wanted fresh air and I know you'd refuse to let me be alone so I said I was with Chrissy." She lied again. But her mother didn't look convinced.

"Clearing your head with Eddie Munson?" Y/N froze as the name left her mother's lips.

"What?"

"I'm not stupid, young lady. You are out there meeting up with Eddie Munson. Doing god knows what kind of drugs. No daughter of mine will be mixed in with a kid like him." Her mother ranted, standing up as she got in Y/N's face.

"A kid like him? What is that supposed to mean!" Y/N scoffed.

"He lives in the trailer park! Who knows what disease he's carrying. I've heard bad things about him, drugs and devil shit. You are NOT seeing him ever again, do you hear me?" Y/N watched in horror as her mom unplugged her phone, snatching the cords with her.

"You will not call him, talk to him, and you will not leave this house for anything other than school and cheer!"

"MOM! That's not fair! YOU CAN'T KEEP ME A PRISONER HERE! I love him and we want to be together. He's not a bad guy! If you met him, you'd see he isn't at all what people describe him to be!" Y/N screamed, but everything she said went on deaf ears.

"I'M YOUR MOTHER AND YOU WILL DO AS I SAY! YOU ARE BREAKING UP WITH HIM AND NEVER SEEING HIM AGAIN."

~~~

Eddie tried to be understanding of the break up. He knew it tore her apart just as much as it did him. He wanted to make it easier for her, hold her and tell her it's alright. He knew he wasn't the type that parents liked. And he knew he wasn't good enough for her.

It killed him to see her walking around the halls, knowing he couldn't walk up and kiss her anymore. The reality that they are broken up and she wasn't his anymore.

Her mom kept her a prisoner. The second cheer ended, her mom was outside the school waiting. Her mom never gave back her phone, she couldn't call Eddie if she wanted to.

The more time passed, and the more they were apart, she realized he was more important than whatever her mom wanted from her. She could barely sleep, the guilt ate her alive. She hated that she picked her mom over Eddie. She knew Eddie tried his best to make it easier, but she didn't deserve that. She could have fought. She should have shown Eddie he was more important and she'd do anything to make their relationship work. But she didn't, she just let her mom win.

Y/N talked to Robin about everything, her guilt, hatred towards her mom, and disappointment within herself. Robin knew that Eddie was hurting through it all, and no separation would heal either. Robin asked Y/N to trust her, so she did.

Now she stood in the drama room with Eddie across from her. His swollen eyes and red nose. His hair was a mess, but that was normal. She felt nervous to speak first, almost like he'd snap the second she opened her mouth.

"I miss you," he whispered, as he opened his arms. An invitation to throw herself in his arms, which she accepted. She dashed into his arms, gripping it tightly as she breathed in his scent.

"I miss you so much." She felt his arms wrap tighter around her, a hand in her hair as he tried to be as close as possible to her.

"I'm so sorry for not fighting. I let her win and I didn't even try for us." She cried, she knew her mom would tear them apart and she still didn't fight against it. "I was prepared for it to happen, and I froze. Our relationship deserves to be fought for and I'm ready to do it."

Eddie pulled back a little to see her face, their bodies still embraced. "You don't need to apologize. I didn't fight either, I just let you do it alone. But now I'm not. We will fight for us together, okay? I'm not going to lose you. I don't care what she throws at us, I'll take care of you." Eddie promised, his forehead pressed against hers. She sniffled and nodded.

A smile on her face as she connected her lips with his.

"I love you." Eddie's heart raced at the words, a full teeth smile on his face as he said the words back.

Y/N would graduate one day, she'd move out and her mom wouldn't have the control. All Y/N needed was Eddie's hand in hers.

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[trybeforeyoudeny]

“C’mon Ed’s, there’s gotta be someone here that catches your eye.”

Nancy had dragged her best friend all the way to Indy with the promise of finding him a suitable match- much to Eddie’s dismay. He didn’t want to find a match. He knows he’s not exactly the type of guy people are interested in, even at the gay bar they’re currently drinking at.

What’s worse is the thought of actually finding someone that he’s interested in here just to go back to Hawkins once the weekend is over and wallow in his own self-pity.

“Nope, no one,” he replies dryly before downing the rest of his beer.

“Hmph,” she lets out an irritated noise before raising her glass to her lips, peaking over the top to scope out the crowd. “What about him?” She juts her chin out.

“Who are you… him? Are you serious?” He scowls when his eyes land on the man she’s looking at. He’s practically a ken doll in real life with slicked-back blonde hair and icy blue eyes that are cutting through him from across the bar.

“What? Not into the pretty boy type?” She raises a brow at him and continues her search.

“Obviously not! What about me says that’s my-”he pauses mid-sentence, jaw slacked as he looks past the ken doll and sees the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on.

“What were you saying about that not being your type?” She smirks.

“What? I- oh, shut up!” He groans, not taking his eyes off the brunette on the dance floor.

“Wait, he looks familiar. Eddie, is that-“

“Steve Harrington?!” His eyes widen and his heart drops.

It’s been nearly a decade since graduation but the constellation of moles on his neck and body- Jesus H. Christ, that crop top is doing things to him- and those honeyed brown eyes are all he needs to confirm it’s him, king Steve. But what the hell is he doing here?

“He’s certainly caught your eye,” Nancy snorts from beside him, nudging him up off his seat.

“What the hell are you doing?” He nearly shrieks as she pushes him in the direction of the dance floor.

“What do you think I’m doing? Go talk to him!”

“I can’t just go talk to Steve Harrington, Nance. He’s probably not even gay! He’s gotta be here with someone else playing as their wingman,” he scours the mess of sweaty bodies, searching for anyone else he may know.

“Ha! See? Buckleys here as well! He must be with her,” he smiles proudly but it drops quickly when he feels himself still being ushered away.

“Just go Ed, you don’t have to shove your tongue down his throat, just make conversation,” she urges him, pleading at him with her eyes to give it a chance. To let someone in.

“Fine, whatever. I won’t say I told you so when I’m back here in two minutes with a bruised eye and an even more bruised ego,” he rolls his eyes and shuffles his way towards the crowd, twisting and turning his way around people until he’s stood right in front of the jock himself.

Eddie had always hated Steve in high school- at least that’s what he told himself to hide the embarrassingly huge crush he had on him growing up.

Towards the end of his final senior year, they ran in very similar circles yet hardly interacted face to face. He hated the way the kids absolutely raved about him and his jealousy got in the way of ever giving him a fair chance even when they ended up at the same events as one another. There had been birthdays, graduations, Joyce and hoppers wedding- and though they’d be in close proximity they hardly acknowledged each other.

Eventually, he had heard that he and Robin moved to Indie and had accepted the fact that they would never get the chance to grow their relationship past anything more than reluctant acquaintances.

Standing in front of him now he’s seeing a much different side of Steve. The Steve he knew was a ladies man- a polo-wearing jock who was the captain of the swim team and floated through school without as much as a turned-up nose in his direction while Eddie was the Satan worshipping freak, a name given to him by his lovely classmates.

The Steve standing in front of him now was a completely different person. He’s wearing denim shorts and a cropped top, remnants of glitter scattered across his cheeks like kisses. Eddie has to stop himself from chuckling at the idea of Robin pinning Steve down to apply it, and… eyeliner?!

Eddie feels like he’s about to pass away on the spot and he forgets how to breathe.

“Hello?”

Oh. Oh shit. Right. He’s supposed to be saying something right now, not gawking at him.

“Um, hi?” It comes out like a question and he wants to slap a hand against his forehead. Why did he let Nancy drag him into this situation?

Before he can come up with anything to say Steve’s leaning in oh so close with a smirk on his face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Eddie’s ear before whispering into it, “do you come here often? I haven’t seen you here before and I’d definitely remember you.”

Eddie nearly scoffs at that because clearly, Steve isn’t remembering him.

“It’s my first time, big boy,” he responds swiftly, a sideways grin painted on his face.

There’s a flash of something in Steve’s eyes when the nickname leaves his lips and Eddie is beginning to realize that Steve may not be as straight as he previously assumed. And well… he doesn’t know what to do with that information.

“What’s your name, handsome?” Steve purrs while twirling one of Eddie’s loose curls around his finger.

“Eddie,” he deadpans, waiting to see if anything clicks for Steve.

It does.

Steve freezes, dropping Eddie’s curl before taking a step back and looking him up and down.

“Eddie,” Steve echoes, big doe eyes widening at the realization.

Eddie looks different now but he’s still the same Eddie he crushed on in the eighties. His hair is cut slightly shorter now and is pulled up into a wild bun with loose curls flying free around his face. His style has toned down since high school but it’s still so Eddie.

He’s still got his dark ripped jeans but his battle vest is traded in for a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, the arm holes dipping low enough to show off the new tattoos covering his ribs. He wants to reach out and touch them.

“So you do remember me, Harrington!” Eddie teases, setting Steve on fire.

“I-yes, of course I do Eddie. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first… I think I’ve had too many of those fruity cocktails,” he admits.

“I suppose I’ll forgive you just this once,” Eddie chides, “if you’ll buy my next drink.”

“That I can do,” Steve smiles and oh… oh god his smile. Was it always this breathtaking?

The pair head back to the bar where they find Robin and Nancy deep in conversation, both of them leaning in close and giggling way too much for this to be a casual chat so they sneak past them and don’t interrupt.

Steve orders them both a colourful drink with a little umbrella sticking out of it, something Eddie would never have ordered for himself but he’s delightfully surprised when he takes a sip of the fruity concoction.

“What brings you to Indy?” Steve questions with a tilt of his head.

“Uhh,” he rubs the back of his head nervously. “Honestly, Nance dragged me out here to try to meet some guys. Hawkins isn’t exactly the best place to meet other gay men, y’know?”

“Oh I definitely know,” Steve nods and Eddie feels a weight lift off his chest at the response. “Part of the reason Rob and I moved out here was to be apart of a better community. Although it was hard to leave the kids, Joyce, hop… you.”

“Me?” Eddie’s eyes widen and he jolts back a bit as if he’s been electrocuted. “We weren’t… I mean, we were never close…”

“Yeah but I still had a big stupid crush on you,” Steve admits out loud, so causally that Eddie thinks he must have misheard him until he looks up and sees the nervous look on Steve's face as he awaits some sort of response.

“I… you had a crush on me?” He points between them for emphasis as he speaks.

“Mhm, a giant one. You were kinda my bi-awakening dude,” Steve laughs nervously, hiding his blush behind his drink.

Eddie short circuits.

He can’t believe what he’s hearing but Steve sounds so genuine he has no choice but to believe every word he says.

Had he been blind? Were there signs of Steve’s feelings that he hadn’t noticed? He thinks back to the late summer barbecues in the Hoppers back yard, how Steve always seemed to sit next to him at the picnic tables even when there were other places to sit. How Steve was always quick to offer up his house for the D&D campaigns when he didn’t have to, how he’d driven him back and forth to work for a week straight in 1987 when his van broke down even though the two of them had never spent time alone before that.

He always assumed the little things steve did was because of the kids, because of Dustin. That he was trying to be kind to Eddie because the party cared about them both and he wanted harmony within the group.

Looking back he feels like an idiot.

“Well, between you and me,” Eddie leans in close and Steve leans into it. “You were my gay awakening back in like, middle school man.”

“Middle school?” Steve pulls away with wide eyes.

“Mhm,” Eddie nods, finishing off the rest of his drink to get some liquid courage before continuing. “Eight grade, swim team,” Eddie whistles, leaning back in his seat. “Let’s just say I had no interest in swimming.”

Steve lets out a bark of laughter, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

“So why didn’t you talk to me?”

“Are you kidding? I don’t think eighth-grade Harrington would have taken well to the freak having a crush on him.”

Steve winces and Eddie immediately regrets what he said, albeit it is the truth.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he nods slowly. “I’m sorry. I was an asshole back then.”

“You were a kid,” Eddie shrugs. “Clearly you’ve changed. I should have noticed that you were different all those years ago… before you moved away.” But I didn’t want to, he wants to add but doesn’t dare say it aloud.

“Still-“

“Ah ah! Nope, it’s in the past,” he cuts him off before Steve has the chance to spiral. “But now that we’re here, I’d like to get to know the real you more,” he hope he doesn’t sound too forward or worse, desperate.

“I’d like to get the real you as well,” Steve blushes back and Eddie feels as though he might combust. “Why don’t we get out of here? Go somewhere quieter?”

“I’d love to,” Eddie replies, looking down at his lap to hide the heat raising in his own cheeks.

Steve extends his hand to help Eddie down from the tall stool and they make their way out of the bar, giggling and leaning into each other's space, hopeful and excited.

[sseniita]

father, like daughter

“You’re joking!” The Villain’s daughter said, dangerously holding whatever new monstrous invention she had tinkered up. “That’s Bullshit!” 

The Villain held up two fingers. “That’s two months now, young lady! And I'm taking away your power drill!” The Villain’s daughter turned red with anger as she faced the Hero standing on the other side of kitchen island. 

“Tell him it’s not fair!” She shouted, prompting the Villain to turn towards Hero as well. Hero had come by only to pick up some documents she needed from Villain, she hadn’t expected to play jury.

“Uh. Well- Villain. Maybe you're being too harsh-” Her train of thought derailed at the sight of Villain’s glare only comparable to his daughter’s. “Um…” She quickly put up two fists on her hips and raised her chin. 

“Listen to your father.” Satisfied, the Villain turned to his daughter. 

“Starting an underground weapon market?! What were you thinking? What if you got hurt!? Do you have any idea how traceable PAYPAL is?!” 

“I started doing cash only!” 

“Yes! After Other Villain venmo-ed you 8K!” 

“Exactly! My business is booming! You’re just jealous I’m a better Villain than you.” The Villain chuckled sarcastically. 

“You have no idea what game you’re playing! I’ve been at this for years and never once did I let myself slip or be noticed!” 

“Ugh whatever! No Hero has caught me yet!” 

The Hero tensed- clearing her throat. Both Villain and mini Villain turned to her before quickly facing each other again. 

“I should have Hero arrest you right now!” 

“She would not! It’s been 10 years and she hasn’t even arrested you!” 

“I-” Hero tried to intervene. 

“Exactly! 10 years of seducing Hero and turning her completely complicit. Now that’s villany!” The Hero could only stutter out her beginning to a counterargument. 

“It took you 10 years to seduce her?! Is that really something to be proud of?” 

“Watch it, young lady!” 

“Ok fine! I’ll just seduce Sidekick then!” She pointed her weapon at Hero’s sidekick who had been enjoying the show, hand half into a tortilla chip bag on the Villain's couch. The Sidekick shot a pleading look at Hero, a look she could only shrug at. The Villain’s eyes narrowed. 

“Three months.” 

The Villain’s daughter groaned over exaggeratedly, threw her weapon on the kitchen island and stomped up to her room. 

“And you!” The Villain pointed to Hero’s sidekick. “Get any closer than 20 meters from her, I dare you.” The Sidekick quickly nodded, a deer in the headlights. 

“Yes sir. Of course sir.” Standing up straight. The Villain cringed. 

“Ugh. I can’t even see you right now. Get out.” The villain said, hand to his temple. The Sidekick skipped past the Hero, giving her a nervous smile Hero returned with a roll of her eyes. Before leaving out the door the Sidekick turned back. 

“Actually we had plans Friday night to-” 

“Out!” The Villain yelled, throwing a fork to the door. 

“Yes, of course, Mr. Villain. See ya later. Bye!” he rushed out almost as fast of his words did from his mouth leaving only Hero and Villain amidst the slam of the door. After a sigh left his mouth the Villain finally relaxed and Hero had the courage to get closer, leaning on the counter. 

“Teenagers, right?” she chuckled. The Villains only huffed. 

“Sorry for screaming at your sidekick.”

“He knows you don’t mean harm. Besides, I’m the one who drove here so it's not like he can go anywhere.” She joked, earning a chuckle from the Villain.

“You know what the worst part is?” The Villain softened. 

“Hmm?” The Hero answered. 

“Before I was angry- I was really, really impressed. Maybe even proud!” He gestured towards the weapon on the kitchen island.

"A bubble trap gun? Why hadn't I ever thought of it?" The Villain seemed genuinely intrigued as he picked it up to analyze. "This is amazing craftsmanship."

The Hero was shocked for a second before remembering who she was talking to and laughed. Villain only let out another chuckle and sighed as the Hero calmed down. 

“If you do let him anywhere near her-” 

“Isn’t that what my Mentor said to Supervillain?” Hero teased.

“That’s different. I didn’t seduce you to get back at my father.” The hero only smiled and leaned against him. 

“Don’t worry. If genetics are anything to account for, they'll be 27 before your daughter wins my sidekick’s heart.” 

[wrenwreads]

she’s enough.

having her around? edmund knows for sure he’ll be alright.

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: nothing

genre: fluff, edmund pining over his bsf

word count: 591

a/n: got me giggling while i was writing lmao 😭

“It’s not fair.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as her best friend plopped himself flat on her bed.

Her parents had let her stay with the Pevensie’s at a professor’s house for shelter — who would have thought they would end up being leaders of a kingdom.

She had been crowned Queen Y/N the Eloquent. Her ever so good skills in speaking benefited their home like no other. They had fixed so many conflicts without drawing out blood with her help, the siblings wondered what they would have done if Edmund didn’t accidentally smack her in the head back when they were 4.

“What is it this time Eds?” she sighed, leaving the stack of books she was carrying from her own personal library to sit down next to Edmund’s body.

“It’s just Peter— and Susan— not to mention Lucy. Why is it always me! Why not y— them this time?! As if I can’t do anything like that. It's just I need time—“

“Eds! Edmund! Breath, please” she pleaded, concerned at the speed the words were coming out of his mouth. Edmund only remained quiet, his face flat on her bed. She sighed, standing up from her position, she — lightly — hit Edmund on the shoulder.

“Sit up!” she hissed.

Another hit.

“Sit up, you twat!”

The insult had the boy standing up in an instant, shooting daggers at the smile Y/N was playfully displaying. “Who’re you calling a twat?”. Edmund sounded offended, Y/N knew him too well that the question had an action behind it for her to fall for. “No one. Well… someone with the last name Pevensie…”

“Peter, then?”

“No,” she dismissed, shaking her head jokingly. “More like Edmund—“ she shrieked his name in surprise. He had been quick, reaching towards her in seconds — his long arms wrapped around her waist as his fingers dug to her sides.

“Edmund! Stop—“ she could barely get the words out, her laughs drowning the whole room. Edmund laughed at the attempt, tightening his hold. “I suggest you take back your words, my lady. Or you’ll be trapped forever!” Edmund announced between his own chuckles.

“Never!”

Their laughs only got louder. The sound escaping the room. Two fauns just happened to pass Y/N’s closed bedroom door, the two looking at each other knowingly. “I am really having a hard time believing that those two will always be best friends.” One said to the other.

“Hopefully, one of them will gain some courage. Who knows, maybe we’ll get Narnia’s first prince in three years' time.” The other replied.

The two laughed, knowing the prediction is highly unlikely — but not impossible.

Back inside, Edmund had stopped. His arms still around her waist as the two took a moment to catch their breaths. Y/N had rested her head against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat instantly calming her down.

Edmund watched in adoration at Y/N allowing herself to rest against him. Despite knowing each other for more than a decade — maybe even more — he still doesn’t believe someone as delicate as the girl in front of him trusts him enough to do so.

Maybe in the future he’ll finally tell her what he found so unfair. Why his siblings would continuously pester him about his buried feelings when they too had them one way or another.

For now, having Y/N allow him to wrap his arms around her, it’s enough. Knowing she confides in him as he does to her, it’s enough.

Having her around, she’s enough.

thank you sm for reaching the end. i appreciate it a lot. feel free to tell me what you <3 constructive criticism is highly valued. also accepting prompts or requests atm. love u lots xoxo

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug on 'The Solitary Clone'

Oh boy, a Daddy Warcrimes episode, happy happy joy joy!

Here it is, Doug's review of 'The Solitary Clone' or, as he calls it, 'Daddy Warcrimes Goes To Texas'.

Nothing much to say...enjoy, you lot. Doug liked this episode, but he likes Daddy Warcrimes the same reason I enjoy characters like the Joker and Daemon Targaryen: I AM NEVER BORED.

CW: Daddy Warcrimes do what he do and Doug narrates it. Need I say more? Oh and if you're from Texas, I apologize ahead of time. Doug shreds the Lone Star State something bad in here.

----------------------------------------------------

Oh boy, we arrive at some dry-ass dump. It’s gross and there’s corn and everyone seems a little off. Must be Oklahoma.

Wait, there’s peaky mountains, must be Texas. Didn’t know Texas was in Star Wars but whatever. 

Well, here’s the Empire, but wait! This dump is run by an angry lady with a bucket on her head dressed like a hippie beekeeper. I’ll call her Beekeeper Bitch.

Anywho, looks like Beekeeper Bitch is holding the government officials hostage today, which is what they do for fun in Texas I guess, besides make barbeques and do weird shit at football games. I hate A&M so much. 

Now, here’s Daddy Warcrimes, having a nice nap in what looks to be the broom closet at my job where the junior engineers always end up banging each other at least once a week. I’m surprised there’s no bleach in there. Jeez, Daddy Warcrimes, no blanket?

Poor Daddy Warcrimes, trying to make friends with the other dudes at lunch and no one wants to go near him because he was forced to sleep in the Dirty Shag Closet. At least the clone cafeteria has turkey legs like Ren Faire. I wonder if it’s because Daddy Warcrimes crashes where the younger employees screw each other all day and there’s stains on the walls no one wants to talk about. Oh well. 

Oh, now we gotta see MBA-Rob. No turkey legs for Daddy Warcrimes today. I hate this little asshole, of course he’s dicking around on his stupid assed phone while Daddy Warcrimes waits and fantasizes about killing and smoked meats.

No one will swipe right on you, Rob, you’re unemployed and gave your last girlfriend an itchy crotch. Or is it left? Up and down? How does that thing where you meet ladies work? 

32 rotations…wtf is this Waterworld shit? How come Daddy Warcrimes isn’t burned to a crisp? How did he survive on that dump? Damn, the man must be part roach, I guess, wow. 

Now he’s got his sweet Johnny Cash armor back on, just looking at him makes me wanna watch that western robot show with Ed Harris again. He’s hanging out in front of that script that possessed Linda Blair back in the day. Does Pazuzu exist in this universe?

Oh, shit, it’s Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend! What in the what what. Glad to see he’s still around! Where’s his gold armor? Did he get it after Obi-Wan…you know, that makes me too sad to think about. I’m sorry, Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend, that must have been rough on you. 

Well, looks like he and Daddy Warcrimes are off!  Where? They’re off on a charming romp to squash some rebellion!...wait, is this a good thing or a bad thing? Who are we rooting for? I’m confused. When did Star Wars get confusing? Am I old now?

Ya know who's not confused? Daddy Warcrimes! His job is pointing, shooting, killing. Which, I get, man. I worked in the oil industry. Speaking of which, they’re back in Texas, but where? Are they in Marfa? This looks like one of the shittier towns in West Texas, outside of El Paso. Are they making meth? Is the Empire the DEA? 

You know, this place is quite nice for someone like Daddy Warcrimes. Second amendment respected, the locals spoke in grunt, and smoked meats for everyone! Speaking of Texas, I wonder if there’s a Buc-ee’s inside, and the Empire wants to take over their jerky emporium, and that’s where this mess came from.

I miss Buc-ees, I could go with a hot brisket sandwich and some Beaver nuggets, get some red velvet fudge for later. 

No wonder Daddy Warcrimes is shooting everyone, the man is hungry! 

God, DAMN, Daddy Warcrimes waiting and staying perfectly still while he’s getting shot at and the TANK holy SHIT he is a BAD ASS but a BAD PERSON and I am CONFUSED BUT I LIKE IT? 

("Meat Muffin, you got a doctorate, diagnose me, what is this feeling where I’m confused but happy?"

"It’s just being happy, Doug, and my doctorate is not in psychology.")

And those crap robots are shooting at them again, but are these good guy robots? Didn’t we spend the last few years hating on them? Oh wait, they’re reprogrammed for defense…oh.

Have I ever told you how much I hate those damn things? They look like vacuum cleaners, if someone made art of a vacuum cleaner that they wanted to be human. Non sexy vacuum cleaners.

("Doug, when did you ever think vacuum cleaners were sexy?"

"Never, don’t know what you’re talking about.") 

Why does this feel like an FBI siege? Is this based on Waco? Shit man, I was in the navy when that happened. This ain’t good. This really is Daddy Wacrimes's Texan adventure, isn't it?

But what is good is Daddy Warcrimes and his GUN. Look at those trick shots like the man is yelling ‘SKEET’ and ‘PULL’ like you wouldn’t believe. I bet he’s the type of person who throws a tantrum at the ice cream store because his favorite flavor is ‘bullets’ and it ain’t on the menu.

Look at him and Obi-Wan’s boyfriend just going up and killing robots left and right. He ain’t good, but that ain’t bad. Which is…good or bad? Ah, whatever, I like this damn show. 

And there’s Beekeeper Bitch bitching at the Empire’s Bitch. Those couches look comfy. 

Daddy Warcrimes is coming your way! When she’s not wearing her helmet, Beekeeper Bitch looks just like my niece! Wow! Oh, now I don’t know, is she bad? Good? She wants independence for her people, maybe Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend and Daddy Warcrimes can listen to her? 

Oh, shut up, Empire Bitch, no one cares. ‘Execute her’ uh shut up, your hat sucks and don’t you know that Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend is a free-thinking MAN who might just up and take a DUMP on your LAWN. 

Well, no. Damn, Daddy Warcrimes, you cold-assed sonofabitch. 

‘Hang her body in the square’, what in the hell, this is dark, Dr Meat Muffin, are you letting your sweet girls watch this show? One of them’s a baby, I hope not. 

(I was 100% watching this with my 2 year old, it was on Disney, what do you expect- Dr. MM)

Welp, Daddy Warcrimes is back where he started, chilling in the cafeteria and his new best friend is his helmet. Wonderful. The helmet will at least make eye contact with him. 

Back to MBA-Rob being a dick to everyone and now Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend has run off. Probably to drink himself into a stupor and cry in a shower somewhere. I know I would, too.  

We really didn’t learn anything in this episode, did we? Well, I learned that Daddy Warcrimes is living a confusing life, never gets to eat and has to sleep in the Dirty Shag Closet. But at least he's got his helmet and his gun and MBA-Rob.

I know he’s bad, but he’s good at that, which is bad…but for me, it’s good?

[sailing-through-hawkins]

that scene from bolt (2003? 2005?) where mittens teaches him how to do puppy eyes but it's steve and robin except it became steddie:

"What are you talking about, of course i know how to pout!"

"No, Robin, because you pouting is you trying to shove your lip as far as you can shove your tongue out, which is kinda weirdly far."

"I made a record, I stand by that"

"I do too, it was cool - but the point is you don't make use of the most important factor - your fucking eyes, dingus."

"Okay hotshot, maybe you used to have charm or whatever but this is the real world and -"

"Hello foes, friends and reluctant allies!" Eddie bursts in through the door, thank god there's no moms in the store to gasp like him being alive is a scandal. Robin doesn't know how much more "he's not to be trusted, you know" she can take this week. "What say you on this glorious day of sunny tides and cloudless skies?"

"How do you have so much energy," Robin groans because it's been two hours of being at work and that's five hours too many. "And why are you shoving it in our faces."

"Fear not, good lady Buckley," Eddie dumps a very noisy bag onto the counter and bows in his classic-Eddie-way. God, why does Steve like this guy, what is his thing with nerds? "I have brought rewards and sweets abound for your tortorous job sentencing."

"Oh my god," Steve slaps her arm and immediately goes rummaging through the bag like the rude little man he is. "Fuck yes!"

"Ahem," Eddie coughs pointedly, freezing Steve in his tracks. He raises an eyebrow as Steve slowly his hand out of the bag without breaking eye contact. "You're welcome?"

"Thank you, Eddie," Robin rolls her eyes and immediately shoves Steve aside - "Hey!" - to zero in on finding a pushpop, which she does, because she's a genius. "Aha, got it!"

"No fair!" Steve whines, shoving at her weakly after she "I wanted that one."

"There's another in the bag," Robin shoves back because tit for tat, fucker. Doesn't matter who started it unless Steve started it.

"Sorry, Steve-O," Eddie snatches the bag off the counter and picks out the pushpop with an evil grin. "But that one's mine."

"Aw, come on!" Steve slumps his shoulders but his eyes light up when he glances at Robin, so she settles in her lean on the counter because that's a signal, that's Steve's signal for "watch my back, look at me" and damn if she won't.

Steve's shoulder slump down even more as he leans over the counter, head tilted to one side and upwards to look up at Eddie. His eyes do something, go big under a semi-wrinkled brow, while he purses his lips just a bit and stares up. "Please, Eds?"

"Uh," Eddie, on the flip side, is staring down at Steve with big eyes too but these are wider and flit around Steve's face, and his brow goes high up while his jaw drops down low. "Um?"

"Can I have the last pop, Eds?" Steve leans not even an inch closer but Eddie blinks down at him like he's the fucking messiah, holy shit, it's working. "Please?"

Eddie swallows, interesting, and nods dumbly. He doesn't even seem to realize that he's handing over the pop before it's gone and blinks at his empty hand.

"Thanks, Eddie!" Steve stands up properly now and smiles around the pop in his mouth.

Eddie blinks again, once at his hand, once at Steve and once at Robin.

"Holy shit," Robin slaps and shakes Steve's arm because he's too busy grinning at Eddie to look at her. "You gotta teach me that."

"Told you," he says smugly, grinning wider when they both realize Eddie is staring at his now crossed arms. Holy shit, it works. "Ready for the first lesson, padawan?"

Eddie snaps his head up and just outright stares at Steve, jaw still agape and face still flushed. "Did you just say padawan?"

"What does the first lesson entail, Stevie?" Robin continues the bit as though Eddie said nothing.

"Find a goal," Steve smirks, reaching over the counter to trail a hand down Eddie's arm. "Eddie's mine."

He squeaks. He fucking squeaks. Robin is delighted, this is a gold mine of blackmail and bribery.

"And then pinpoint exactly what you want from the goal," Steve instructs before turning to Eddie with a smile. "Something like you, over at my place tonight? Maybe at seven, watch a movie or two together?"

"Is - are you serious?" Eddie gulps, eyes flitting between the pair of them. "Are you - asking me out?"

"One hundred percent, Eds," Steve reassures him. "Been wanting to ask you out for a while."

"Oh," Eddie blinks, his slow nod getting faster and faster. "Yes, yeah. Movie date tonight, your place. I'll pick the movies?"

"Sounds good," Steve says sweetly, and waves a giggly bye as Eddie launches towards the dinky corner of the store where they keep the best of the horror flicks.

"Alright, that was pretty smooth," Robin admits. "Think it'll work on Joyce so I don't have to do the dishes on Friday?"

Steve shakes his head with a laugh and nudges her. "Nothing's getting you out of dish duty rotation."

[fckinwild-kiwi]

Dec. 9th: Sitting on Santa's Lap

Day 9: Staycation/Day at the Fair

Day nine of @comp-lady’s Domestic December writing challenge!

Warnings: Maybe Swearing (This is an 18+ blog, minors dni)   Word Counts: 1.4k+ Words Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader

“You’re joking,” You said, wide-eyed and shocked. “You have never sat on Santa’s lap, ever?”

“Why are you surprised, Y/n,” Dustin said, laughing at your surprise. “Can you really picture Eddie, the most metal person ever, sitting on Santa’s lap?”

“I’d pay to see it happen,” Steve snorted, nudging Robin.

“You can pay me, Stevie,” Macy, your younger sister said, jumping from Eddie’s lap. “Eddie, I can go with you to see Santa if you’re scared. He’s a really nice guy, he smells like gingerbread!”

“You should make Steve pay all the time, love bug. Especially when he’s being mean,” Eddie mumbled, glaring at Steve before sticking his tongue out at him. “I’ll go with you to see Santa, though.”

“You’re too sweet to her,” You whispered, watching your sister’s face light up before she turned to run from Dustin as he tried to tickle her. 

“Nah, it’s just how she should be treated,” Eddie responded before putting a kiss on your head. “We better get dressed to go to the Christmas fair, guys!”

“Yay!” Macy shouted, running around the room to find her shoes and coat. “I wanna sit in the car with Dusty and Will!”

Once everyone decided which car they would be riding in, everyone quickly got into their ride and took off towards the fair. 

“What are you most excited to do, Macy Mace?” Will asked Macy, as she squealed in the back with excitement.

“I want to see Santa, duh,” Macy giggled, before continuing her list of must-sees. “Then we have to try the hot cocoa, ice skating, eat homemade popcorn, decorate the sugar cookies, race the elves-“

You quickly interrupted the five-year-old, “Mace, remember we have to take it slow, there are lots of other people with us and we have to take turns letting other people pick too.”

She released a giant sigh. “Okay.”

Before long, everyone had pulled into the parking spaces at the Christmas fair, and with your hand wrapped tightly around your sister’s and your other wrapped around Eddie’s, you guys braced yourself for the mayhem that was bound to ensue with a manic five-year-old. 

“Let’s get some hot cocoa first, Mace,” Dustin said, reaching out for her hand.

“Yay,” She cheered for the second time today, as she let go of your hand to find Dustin’s.

“Are you really going to sit on Santa’s lap?” You questioned up at the metal head. 

“Oh yeah, he is,” Robin said, giggling. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

“If you guys want to make fun of me for finally taking a piece of my childhood back with a five-year-old who is full of Christmas spirit, that’s fine,” Eddie said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m going to enjoy it and not regret a thing. I intend to make this a day that Macy remembers.”

“It will certainly be one that I never forget,” Steve retorts, grabbing Eddie’s shoulders as Macy and Dustin return with their hot cocoas.

“How’s that hot chocolate, sweet pea,” You question, noticing the amount of chocolate around Macy’s mouth. 

“So yummy,” she mumbled back, busy drinking the warm drink.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” Dustin said, sheepishly. “We made a bit of a mess."

“Don’t worry about it, Dusty,” You said back, ruffling his hair. “I expected her to get messy today, it’s the way that I can prove she’s had a great day.”

“Santaaaaa!” Macy screamed out, quickly giving you her hot chocolate as she ran. 

“Eds,” You quickly grumbled. “Please follow with her, I can’t run with the hot chocolate.”

Eddie quickly jogged over to where Macy was standing, wide-eyed and mesmerized by the giant man sitting on a chair surrounded by elves. “You ready to get in line? We have to wait our turn,” Eddie said, touching Macy’s head to get her attention.

“Let’s go, let’s go!”

Twenty minutes later, Eddie and Macy were next up in line. The excitement was radiating off of Macy in contagious waves. For the first time Eddie could remember, he was nervous in a little kid's way. 

“Mr. Santa!” Macy cheered, approaching the man in a red suit. 

“Well, hello dear,” Santa said. “What is your name?”

“My name is Macy, and this is my sister’s boyfriend, Eddie. He has never met you before so I wanted to introduce you guys!”

“Nice to meet you Eddie,” Santa said, smiling at Macy’s excitement. “Macy, what would you like for Christmas.”

“Eddie has to sit on your lap too,” Macy said, ignoring his question. “It’s tradition.”

“Mace, I think I’m too old and too big,” Eddie said, softly smiling at the little girl. 

“No,” Macy argued. “Santa, he has to!”

“You can sit on my knee too, Eddie,” Santa said, trying to de-escalate the situation. 

Eddie released a sigh before lowering himself onto Santa’s thigh, careful not to put too much weight on the gentleman. “I already sent you my Christmas list,” Macy rambled. “The highlights are a new easy bake oven and a bike. Eddie, what did you want to ask Santa for?”

“Uhm,” Eddie started. After having never been asked this question, he could not think of any materialistic things that would make him happier than the people surrounding him right now. But to please Macy he said, “I would love a new guitar strap or an amp.”

“Well you two, from my list I can see that you have both been very good this year. I will see what my elves and I can do for you,” Santa said, patting each of their backs. 

“Thank you, Santa,” Macy cheered, climbing off the man’s lap and grabbing Eddie’s hand.

“Yeah, thank you Santa,” Eddie echoed. Santa shot him a wink in response. The rest of the crew, who were watching from beyond the line, called out as Macy ran up to them.

“Stevie, you have to pay me money now! I love the Christmas fair!” She cheered pointing a finger at Steve before she turned and started babbling away to Jonathan and Argyle about how they needed to decorate sugar cookies, now.

“How was Santa’s lap?” Mike joked out, causing you to lightly smack the back of his head. “Ow, what was that for?”

“Being a little jerk,” Nancy responded before you. “Come on guys, the show is over, let’s go get the homemade popcorn.”

Eddie, hanging behind the group a big, gently pulled your hand to get you to slow your pace. “How was that, Eds?”

“Felt weird,” He responded quietly. Realizing how he must be feeling, you didn’t push, instead, you stopped walking and pulled him into you.

“You deserve some cookies and hot cocoa, mister,” You mumbled wrapping your arms around his waist, tightly.

“Please,” Eddie sighed, his body melting into yours. Hand-in-hand, you walked with Eddie towards the others to check on Macy before getting Eddie hot chocolate. “Thank you,” Eddie said, smiling down at you as you handed him the warm drink. 

“Anything for you my love,” You responded. “Now let’s go get find the sugar-crazed Macy and see if she’s ready to go home!”

After hours of playing at the Christmas fair, and Macy being so tired that Eddie had to carry her, everyone decided it was time to head home. Jonathan drove El, Argyle, Will, and Lucas home and Steve took Nancy, Robin, Mike, and Lucas. Dustin and Max rode back with you, Eddie, and Macy. After dropping everyone off at their houses, Eddie pulled your car into the driveway.

“I think my mom is inside, Eds,” You whispered to the boy as he was getting your sister out of her car seat. “If you want to put her in her bed and meet me in the living room, we can watch a movie?”

“Sounds perfect,” He whispered back. You closed the car doors behind him before racing around to get the front door too. Your mom greeted the three of you before ushering Eddie upstairs to tuck Macy in after him. You walked into the living room, turned on the TV, and got some blankets out before sitting on the couch.

“I think a piece of my childhood was given back to me today,” Eddie said to you as he walked back into the living room where you were sitting. “I can’t thank you or your sister enough for allowing me that space to feel that.”

“Oh, baby, come here,” You choked out, making grabby hands towards Eddie. As he found his space beside you, you pulled his body into yours, dragging your nails along his scalp. “I feel so lucky that you feel safe enough with us to let yourself have these moments.”

“Can we go back to the fair next year too? Make it a tradition?” He asked, looking up at you with a child-like twinkle in his eyes.

“Our own traditions,” You whispered, mostly to yourself. “I would like that.”

[sprucedarkstache]

Ladies, gentlemen, and all other configurations of being, may I present: The Official Unofficial Markiplier Ego Tumblr Sexyman Competition Bracket!

On the top, we have:

LEFT

Stan the Water Man vs Bill

Wilford Warfstache vs Resident Enis Mark

Annus vs Heist Mark

Google vs Illinois

RIGHT

Noir Mark vs Date Mark

The C0rnipliers vs 505 from Villainous

Eric Derekson vs The God of Night

Silver Shepherd vs Engineer Mark

On the bottom, we have:

LEFT

Actor Mark vs Metro Man

Heehoo vs Darkiplier*

Yancy vs Murdock

Bim Trimmer vs Old Man Mark*

RIGHT

The Host of the Drowned Man vs Chris McClean

Dr Iplier vs The Host

Harold Darrensworth vs Ed Edgar

Captain Magnum vs The Jims

HOW THIS IS GOING TO WORK:

For every round, there will be a google form created to cast your votes. The poll will be open til 9:00 tomorrow and the final results will lock at that time. I will then tally the results and announce who moves on into the next round. This will be fair and no bias will be held from the creator.

IF YOUR VOTED DOES NOT WIN, PLEASE DO NOT HARASS ME. THE VOTE IS NOT ON MY DECISION. I WILL NOT BE VOTING MYSELF

**These two groups have switched places for drama. They are inaccurate in lineup in the screenshot, so if the screenshot next time looks inconsistent, that’s why.

[callsignspark]

Mar[r]y Me | part two

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, extremely brief mentions of emotionally abusive ex-bf, eventual smut, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 3.4k

main masterlist

note: happy Friday! part two is here! and we meet Bradley today! thank you for the love on part one, I hope you all have a great weekend <3 (side note: if anyone recognizes where I adapted the very last line from, we are now best friends)

part two - strawberry shortcake

“Can we eat now? I’m tired of waiting for the chicken man!”

“Hangman, he’s five minutes late, and if you keep whining like a baby, you will be the last in line for food.” Mary’s hand shoots across the island, slapping the blonde’s hand away from the food. “Don’t even fucking think about it! Go sit in the living room!”

“Ow! I liked you better when you were too shy to yell at us yet.” He sulks into the next room, holding his hand to his chest. Only his ego is bruised, but Mary can hear him looking for sympathy from his best friend, giggling when she hears Coyote’s less-than-loving response.

“What’re you laughing at?”

“Oh my god!” She whips around, hand flying to her chest in a futile attempt to slow her heart. “Bradley! I didn’t hear you come in!”

“Sorry, Miss Mary, didn’t mean to scare ya.” The smirk on his face contradicting his apology.

She narrows her eyes. “Oh, you find this funny, bird boy? Hey Hangman?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You’re no longer at the back of the line for food! Rooster will be taking that spot from you.”

A celebratory shout comes from the living room while Bradley protests, “That’s not fair!”

“Guess you shouldn’t have laughed at me. Okay! Come get food while it’s still hot!” She’s almost bulldozed by the herd of hungry aviators storming their way into the kitchen. Bradley pulling her out of the way of Harvard and Fritz playfighting to be first in line.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you to catch an elbow with that cute lil nose of yours.” His thick arm wrapped around her waist, and the way he has to bend down to talk into her ear gets her heart pumping. She feels small next to him; she never feels small. Mary pats his arm in thanks before wiggling away to establish order of the buffet she laid out in the Fitches' kitchen, her face feeling as hot as the sausage she’d cooked up.

“Boys, stop fighting.” She thumps Fritz’s head as she passes, “Danielle and Reuben get food first; it’s their house.”

“Traditionally, the hosts go last!”

“It may be their house, but I cooked everything, so I’m the host, and I say the pregnant lady and her husband go first.” Danielle smacks Mary’s butt as she passes by to grab a plate. “This isn’t officially Reuben and Danielle’s anniversary, but it’s very close, so I’ve made a lot of their favorites tonight. All the food is labeled, but let me know if you have questions, and drinks are in the cooler in the yard, so help yourself before you sit down! Coyote?”

“We’re ignoring the slap?”

“Yes. It’s been over fifteen years, and nothing has stopped her yet; it’s just part of my life now.”

Danielle scoffs, “Oh, please. Like you don’t love it. I know for a fact that when you dated-”

“Okay! Hey! Have you guys ever heard the story of how Reuben and Danielle got together? It’s really embarrassing for Reuben.”

“No, but I would love to hear it!” Fanboy pipes up, just like she knew he would, getting Danielle off the topic of her former boyfriend, the one who had a thing for spanking.

“You haven’t even told Fanboy? Your WSO?” Danielle looks at her husband in faux shock. “Well, now Mary has to tell it!”

“Please do not tell this story.” Reuben groans from his seat, realizing his two favorite women aren't joking.

“Picture this. It's August 2007. The Phoenix spacecraft is on course for Mars, Ed Hardy is taking over men’s fashion, and it’s the first week of classes at SUNY Buffalo. I’m waiting outside of my 8AM chemistry lab with like twenty other students, all of whom are lax bros. This tall, lanky kid,” Mary jabs a thumb in the direction of Reuben, “-comes walking up, plants himself next to me on the bench outside the lab, and says, “Yo, I know the formula for table salt; what else could I possibly need to know?” and me, being the wonderful person I am, I took pity on him and made him my lab partner.”

“You just didn’t want to get partnered with those guys from the golf team.”

“I will not lie; that was a factor in my decision. Anyway, it turned out to be a huge mistake because he barnacled himself to me for the rest of the semester and apparently for the rest of my life.”

“I am a delight!”

“I dragged us through that class, kicking and screaming the entire way.” She explains how their duo became a trio after Reuben walked directly into Danielle. “She hit the sidewalk so hard, and Rico Sauvé over there froze, staring at her like an idiot while I helped her off the ground and apologized for him. I wish I could remember what I said… do you remember Danielle?”

“You said, and I’m quoting here, “I’m so sorry about him. I would make a joke about him being so tall that he doesn’t get enough oxygen, but the fact of the matter is that he’s just a fucking idiot.” And then she smacked him in the stomach to reboot him.”

The team erupts in laughter, Yale heckling him. “Bro! You knocked her over? That’s so bad; I can’t believe she went out with you!”

“Oh, I didn’t! Matchmaker Mariella convinced me to give him a shot after she and I became friends sophomore year. He was too scared to ask me out.” Danielle’s statement makes the laughter worse, tears gathering in Fanboy’s eyes.

“And it worked out, didn’t it?” Reuben leans over to kiss his wife. “We’ve been together for fifteen years, five moves, and two kids. Not too bad, huh, baby?”

“Oh god! Keep it in your pants; there are impressionable, young minds present!”

Danielle flips Hangman off, “Annie isn’t old enough to realize what’s going on!”

“Forget Annabeth! I was talking about Bob!”

That begins the biweekly argument of Phoenix defending her back-seater, which then spirals into whose dating life is the most pathetic. Omaha has won the past nine times for his horrible flirting techniques that have a 4% chance of working, according to Yale’s calculations. Mary always takes this as her cue to escape, knowing her romantic luck is the worst of them all, and she would win hands down. This time around, she collects the dinner dishes and sneaks through the back door, making a clean getaway until Bradley turns to whisper a joke in her ear and realizes she’s gone.

He scans the backyard, coming up empty until his eyes hit the kitchen window. For a minute he watches her doing dishes and bobbing her head to the radio perched on the windowsill in front of her, admiring how the pieces of hair that have escaped from her claw clip frame her face. The dark strands making the rosiness of her round cheeks stand out as she cleans up.

She’s so beautiful.

The same thought had passed through his mind eight months earlier when he first met the Fitch family’s best friend. It had been a regular night out at the Hard Deck. Everything was going as expected, except for Payback’s behavior. The normally calm and collected pilot bounced between groups, his neck on a constant swivel to the front door. After minimal prodding, he announced that his wife and his best friend from college were running late. Rooster was expecting another man similar to his teammate; a funny, chill guy, probably someone who had been on the swim team with Reuben.

He was thrown for a loop when Danielle stormed through the door, yelling about the babysitter being late and pulling a gorgeous brunette behind her.

Payback had tucked the mystery woman under his arm and introduced her to the group. “Everyone, this is my bestest friend, Mariella Vertucci. She is a brilliant mechanical engineer, an excellent cook, and an even better baker. Also, she’s single.”

“Oh my god, Reuben, stop it!” She had blushed and tried to duck away; her wide smile made Bradley’s heart flutter. He immediately wanted to talk to her, buy her a drink, play her favorite song on the piano, anything to get her to smile at him like that.

He had been disappointed when he learned she was only visiting for a few days. His disappointment had grown when Hangman and Coyote monopolized her time after finding out she had a knack for darts. The best part of his night was when she sat on the stool beside him for a breather. Bradley bought her a drink and made small talk; his brain unable to create meaningful conversation once he felt the soft material of her dress brush his calf. And then she was gone again, pulled back to the dartboard by Jake, who was happy to have someone to compete against. He had spent the rest of the night watching Jake joke with her. Mary’s laugh was the only thing in Bradley’s head when he went to bed that night.

He looks over at Jake now, where - for his own entertainment - the blonde man is turning the dating life comparisons into a game of cornhole. Content to stand on the sidelines with Annabeth snuggled on his chest and watch what is sure to turn into a disastrously overly competitive tournament.

When Bradley realizes no one is paying attention to him, he gathers the rest of the dirty dishes and heads inside. “I saw you sneak away; you missed my joke about Hangman getting stood up twice in the same week.”

“I try not to give Dani a chance to bring up my past mistakes; it works out better for everyone considering how often she’s set me up on a failed blind date.” She makes a face over her shoulder, making both of them laugh.

“Dinner was great, by the way. I haven’t had a homecooked meal like that in years.”

Mary feels her cheeks get darker at the compliment. Damn him for being handsome and sweet.

“I’m glad you liked it. I always- oh! I love this song; can you turn it up? My hands are all soapy.”

“Big Steve Miller Band fan, huh?” Bradley laughs and twists the knob. “What are we listening to?”

“The oldies station - 105.6 - they play everything from before 1990! I love them; it’s just like when I used to spend the day with my grandparents. They have a Big Band Music Monday, and if I close my eyes when Glen Miller is playing, I swear I can smell my Nona's perfume.” His smile matches hers, the joy of childhood memories splayed across her face as she rinses plates.

“Which towel should I use to dry?”

“You don’t have to-” Her voice gets louder as she talks over him, sensing the protest that’s coming. “But! If you’re going to insist, grab a fresh one from that drawer right there. And don’t worry about the pots and pans; Reuben likes to let those air-dry overnight. I just want to make sure everything else is as done as possible before I bring dessert out; those dishes can run in the dishwasher tonight.”

Bradley pauses where he’s putting silverware away, watching Mary sway to the music. “You made dessert too?”

“Yeah, we’re having my version of strawberry shortcake. It’s a twist on their wedding cake which was vanilla cake with strawberry filling.” She answers distractedly, closely examining a roasting dish that won’t come clean.

“You made their wedding cake too?”

She giggles at his shocked tone. “No, I had just moved to Missouri when they got engaged, so most of my maid of honor duties were performed virtually. But I did help pick the cake flavors out when I was up for the shower.”

“Lots of yelling at vendors on the phone?”

“Occasionally, when it was needed. I’m not a fan of yelling at people if it’s not necessary.”

“You yell at work all the time.”

“That’s because you idiots don’t listen to me! My entire career has been learning the best ways to fix those expensive ass planes you fly in every single day, yet you don’t listen when I-” She cuts herself off and flicks water at him when she realizes he’s teasing her. “You’re not funny, mister.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, it’s just too easy sometimes.” He knows he’s not really in trouble when she can’t hold her grin back.

“Just keep drying so we can have dessert.”

The two work quietly together, cleaning and packing up leftovers, seventies hits floating through the kitchen. As Mary cleans the sink, she looks at Bradley, who is trying to figure out which cabinet the serving platters go in. “When you get those put away, could you grab the strawberries from the garage fridge?”

Bradley hums his agreement, grinning at her when she points to the correct cupboard before heading out to the garage.

“As you requested.” He laughs at the grabby hands she makes towards the green container in his arms as he reenters the kitchen, eyes going wide when she removes the lid. “Shit, those look awesome.”

Mary’s nose scrunches at the compliment. “It’s because they’re super fresh. I picked them up from my favorite farm stand on the way home. And I used the sugar-to-berry ratio my Aunt Denna perfected years ago.”

Bradley watches in awe as she moves around the kitchen with an ease he’s never seen before; it’s like watching a one-person waltz. Her hands carefully fold the strawberries together, gently stirring them so they don’t break. Once combined to her standards, she plucks a sharp knife from out of nowhere and begins cutting the cake into even slices without any measuring. Mary does this while instructing him to get dessert plates out; her hips never stop moving to the music.

She stacks everything onto a serving tray that was hiding next to the fridge. It looks precariously balanced, and Bradley is about to offer his assistance when she swings the tray onto her shoulder and makes her way through the sliding door with no problems. He stands there for a second, stupidly staring after her like a lump on a log when he realizes she forgot the serving spoon.

He grabs the utensil and follows her path to the deck, a cheesy grin spreading across his face as he watches her realize she forgot something. She turns as Bradley brandishes the spoon in front of him like a sword and bows. “For you, m’lady.”

The peanut gallery pipes up. “Oh my god, Bradshaw. That was painful to watch.”

“No dessert for you, Jake.”

“Oh, come on!” Jake holds Annabeth up from his chest. “I was gonna share with little Annie Oakley here! You can’t take dessert away from me! You’re depriving her!”

“Dude, you have got to stop using my kid as a bargaining chip every time you make M&M mad.” The defeat in Danielle’s voice sends laughter through the group.

“For dessert, we’ve got strawberry shortcake with a Vertucci family twist. And a limited amount of whipped cream to go around, so please don’t go crazy until everyone has some, okay?”

A chorus of “Yes, ma’am” comes back at her as she hands the first plate to Dani, who had elbowed her way to the front of the line, using her pregnant belly to her advantage.

Mary is fulfilling Harvard’s request for extra syrup on his cake when Callie’s voice raises the question on several aviator’s minds. “Hey Mary, why is your callsign M&M?”

“Oh… uh….” She hesitates for a second before remembering she can trust these people. “Growing up in a bakery, I’ve always been the designated person to bring treats. Even in college, I was that person. After people found out I was the one who made the food, I would always jokingly get proposed to, and people started the “Marry Me” nickname. Which is such a brilliant play on my name.”

“Which was funny for a while, until a guy she used to date and his group of assholes caught wind of it and turned it into something decidedly not funny.” The anger in Reuben’s voice stops any potential questions.

“Yes, and then my knight in shining swim trunks over there almost got kicked off the team for fighting, and my ex got a knee to the family jewels courteous of the knight’s red-haired partner.” She rolls her eyes at the memory of how proud her two friends were to be in trouble for defending her honor. “Anyway, that pretty much killed the nickname, but M&M took its place.”

The yard is quiet, no one entirely sure what to say.

“I still can’t stand Austin.”

“I’m pretty sure he can’t stand you either after you sent one of his balls back into his body.” Mary snorts, feeling uncomfortable that the conversation about her emotionally abusive ex is still going. “It’s okay, everyone. That was a long time ago, and I brought M&M with me as my unofficial call sign when I started working with the Navy.”

It’s awkward for another minute until Hangman gets cornhole going again, handing Annabeth off to join the women at the picnic table. The game quickly gets competitive between the guys, and the evening returns to normal. As the attention moves away from her, Mary curls in on herself, feeling vulnerable about the information she had shared. The other women notice and make eye contact, a silent conversation passing between them.

“What a dingus. If I was your ex, I would have proposed to you for real after trying your mac and cheese.”

“Callie, I called dibs after she made those cupcakes at Easter.” Natasha protests.

“Absolutely not! Of anyone, I get the first crack at her; I’ve known her the longest.”

“Danielle, I know you’re pregnant, but I will literally fight you.”

It’s enough to break the tension and make Mary laugh. “Ladies, ladies, please, no fighting. There’s enough of my food to go around.”

“And what about you? There’s only enough of you for one of us.” Nat throws an arm around Callie’s shoulders, winking at her fellow aviator, silly smiles spreading across their faces.

“I think if we really tried, there would be plenty of me for both of you.” She winks back before taking a stack of empty plates inside.

The table settles into a stunned silence, Danielle’s laugh interrupting after a few seconds. “I forgot you guys haven’t seen Mary flirt before!”

Bradley’s heart stops from where he’s eavesdropping in a lawn chair. Is that why she never responds to my flirting? He feels like an ass, trying to catch the attention of a woman who potentially doesn’t even like men.

“She flirts with Jake all the time!”

Bradley chugs the rest of his beer.

“No, that’s not flirting. They’re just bantering each other. Besides, Jake is a good-looking guy, but he’s not really what she looks for in a man.”

“Oh! Forget Jake! She is single, right? Because I have a friend who would be perfect for her, she’s a middle school math teacher, and she has the same sense of humor as Mary!”

Danielle lowers her voice, “She is single, and she’s said now that she’s more settled out here, she wants to try dating again. But if everything goes the way I think it will, there will be no need for us to set her up.”

“What do you-” Natasha gets cut off by Danielle pointing at something off the deck.

The three women turn their attention to the backyard. At some point during their conversation, Mary had slipped past them and settled next to Bradley on the two-seater Adirondack chair. They subtlety observe as Mary leans into his side, giggling and whispering in his ear about something as she gestures towards the game. Bradley throws his head back as he laughs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and dipping his head down to respond. They watch as Mary buries her head in his shoulder to muffle her laughter, and three sets of eyebrows raise in unison as the back of Bradley’s neck turns redder than the strawberries they’d just eaten.

“Wow. I vote that we only intervene if those two take longer than three months to get their shit together.” Callie looks around the table for concurrence.

Natasha grimaces. “Usually, I’d agree, but they’ll probably end up needing a nudge. Rooster moves slower than molasses in January when he’s interested in a woman for something more than a night.”

“They’ll definitely need a nudge, and I’m already working on it because, lemme tell you…” Danielle pauses, her heart warming at the shy smile on her best friend’s face as Bradley pulls her further into his body. “He’s in there with the champ.”

thank you for reading <3 if you would like to be added (or removed) from the tag list just send me an ask! have a good one!

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fic tag | credit for dividers here

[oliveroctavius]

Thoughts on Lily Hollister?

Oh man, I've been thinking about her a lot recently. She's from a period of ASM that I do not always like or understand but she fascinates me as a character.

I remember my first impression of her and Carlie being a cynical "Okay, MJ and Gwen 2.0". I still think she was introduced as part of a "back to basics" push to assemble a neo-CBG, but I have no hard feelings there. Parallel civilian drama is always a plus in a Spidey comic and they are quite cute.

But—as a big HarryMJ fan—this isn't really a rehash. (And not just because Harry is now also meant to be a ditzy glamorous party guy.) MJ was just a teenager dicking around while Lily's non-party goals are political and focused. Note that this "love triangle" kicks off when she realizes Peter is an insider at a paper that opposes her dad. I wasn't reading the letters, but—surely someone guessed Menace's identity the moment "he" turned out to be backing Hollister, right?

She's definitely pulling Harry's strings on the politics side, but isn't emotionally avoidant and spends a lot of private time with him. (If we believe her later, worry about his well-being triggered her origin story.) It seems fair to say she appreciates familial devotion.

ASM #586 is my favorite flavor of Spidey Reveal. The villain is someone we knew and almost trusted, and when we look back the seeds of motivation are there, paralleling our protagonist for dramatic tension! Your dad whose reputation you're curating loves your roommate more than you, you say? He always wanted a son, you say?

There's a deliciously Lady Macbeth flavor to this whole speech.

That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold. What hath quenched them hath given me fire. My hands are of your color, but I shame To wear a heart so white.

Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty!

"Okay, you won't be jealous?" she asks seemingly genuinely, in a voice so deep and a body so muscular that everyone has he/him-ed it up until now. The ongoing goblin theme of violence = power = masculinity is blinking neon here. Obvious jokes about Harry's taste in women aside: what kind of philosophy does a woman have to have to be attracted to what the Osborns represent, thinking she's special enough to not be chewed up and spit out?

And she does say she still loves him! You could read that as a manipulative lie, but to me it's more interesting if she does like Harry in her condescending way.

After all, she seems to love her dad similarly, going behind his back to "support" him in ways he'd never want.

It's too bad that this super-intense characterization of Lily is mostly only retrospective. ASM #588 and the jig is up.

Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear And chastise with the valor of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crowned withal.

It's very possible that the gender element is writers being weird about a black woman as a love interest. (I have a whole thesis on how Black side characters are compared/contrasted to the Osborns somewhere.) But I believe that just a little weirdness can add flavor. It seems significant that Menace, as Lily's fantasy of power denied to her, reads as a nonblack male, as though she hopes that becoming an Osborn will grant her whiteness, too...

Unfortunately, I don't think anything has lived up to that reveal. It kind of feels like nothing has even tried.

[sighs extremely deeply] American Son. Throwing out her whole villain speech to have her bear a super-soldier goblin son for Norman to use as the next Real Osborn.

Macbeth once says to Lady Macbeth:

Bring forth men-children only, For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males.

But that's right after Lady Macbeth says she'd murder her own baby with her bare hands if it was personally politically advantageous. Why is Lily "if you want something done right, steal your man's role and do it yourself" Hollister now an obedient heir-producing accessory? And that to a guy she beat the crap out of in ASM #571 for being a waste of rich white dude advantages?

We have gone all the way to the other side of Weird. Where did her jealousy and personal ambition and all the weight behind it go? Where's her guilt for ruining her relationship with her father for good? Why is she calling Norman "babe"?

Origin Of The Species (ASM #642-6) makes some attempt to reconnect to the original character threads with the whole friend group banding together to deal with the fallout of Lily's decisions.

But she still feels mostly like a plot device, and her guilt is more wet blanket than "out, damned spot" levels of satisfying. (She jumped to murder to bolster the name of someone who would never have wanted that! Are we ever going to come back to that part!)

Protecting her child from Norman should redefine her allegiances, but she just... got dragged back to bit-part appearances as an accessory to whichever goblin is the biggest deal at the moment. And got memory wiped for a while and became a black cat ripoff.

I feel like this wouldn't have fallen so flat if Bill Hollister hadn't vanished right after her reveal. Did he ever know about his grandson? A severely underrated element of the classic CBG is how many of their parents/mentors knew each other independently of the kids. The larger web of political + financial + circumstantial connections meant that interpersonal family shockwaves stuck around after the first arc, doubled back, mirrored each other in interesting ways. These should've! This should've.

God this post got long. TLDR crazy first arc that nothing else has even remotely lived up to in my mind yet; it would have to follow up on her bonkers family relationships and deeply jealous personal philosophy (or whatever's left of it).

[mademoiselle-red]

So I had a thought today: Patroclus’ tragedy is that he isn’t Odysseus. Hear me out. This is gonna be a long and meandering story. So I was thinking about that battered old picture book adaptation of The Iliad I’d received as a child, and how at the time, I was very into “trickster” characters who achieve their goals through some kind of cleverness and get away with it. My favorite character through the first part of the book was Paris because he wins over Helen by getting Aphrodite to make her fall in love with him (yes, I know better now, but I was 9 years old at the time lol). But then I realized he was actually stupid, so I dropped him. No one really piqued my interest until Patroclus showed up and put on his friend’s armor and bluffed his way through the enemy lines. I was really rooting for him to win! It was brilliant. But then the gods intervened and gave the victory to Hector. Boo. I dropped him, Patroclus —he didn’t get away with his trick, and that made him immediately less interesting to 9 year old me. I did feel a vague sense of unfairness at the fact that he didn’t fail because his plan wasn’t clever enough, but because he didn’t have a god on his side. And, I didn’t care much for his friend Achilles since he was strong because he was strong, not because he was clever.

I was also at the time, very into track and field races, which were co-ed at my elementary school, and I always managed to do pretty well in the longer races against boys who normally ran faster than me because I knew how to manage my stamina and they didn’t. Anyhow, I ended up latching onto Agamemnon, because the ending of the picture-book focused on him, and he ended up killed by his wife, and thus not clever enough to get away with it, which made him a total loser in the eyes of my former self. But then, a few years later, I read The Odyssey in my 9th grade English class, and I finally found the character of my heart, Odysseus. He is the clever trickster who does “get away with it”, over and over again, and I loved it. Odysseus is not as strong as Achilles or politically powerful as Agamemnon, but he is clever, and he outlives them all. I could never get enough of this kind of story: the clever youngest brother wins the fortune, the clever hero defeats the stupid knights and marries the princess.

Real life didn’t quite work out that way. Like Patroclus’ bluff, my advantage in strategy and stamina was short-lasting. As we began to hit puberty, my body fat to muscle ratio caught up with me, the boys got even faster, and the school races were now segregated by sex. But by then, I was already losing interest in the sport.

And now as an adult, I’ve found new appreciation for the tragedy of Patroclus. It is the tragedy of the almost-good-enough, the almost-victory. He was more clever than Achilles, cleverer than Hector, and he could have won, had he been able to fight that battle on his own terms, bypass Hector and make it over the walls of Troy, had the gods not thrown him down from the walls and forced him to fight Hector face to face. But he isn’t Odysseus, and Hector isn’t the Cyclops. But he could have been Odysseus, who always won by not fighting fair, perhaps in another universe, where Lady Athena smiled upon him and chose him as her favorite.

Patroclus was among the best of the warriors, but not the best. He was clever, but not the cleverest. His tragedy is perhaps the tragedy of the average person, as strong and clever as an ordinary hardworking warrior would be, but not extraordinary, not blessed by the gods, forced to share the world with those few who are.

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

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Chapter XVIII: I Gave My Life Away

pre warning: tags contain some non specific spoilers

warnings: 18+ MDNI mentions of a suicide attempt, alcoholism, narcotics addiction, depression. Adult content not meant for people under the age of 18. (spoiler for next tag!) Grinding/heavy petting, an inkling of smut. Angst, hurt feelings, heavy subject matter. reminder that this is fiction and i do not condone the actions of my characters! afab!gn!reader, they/them pronouns, rockstar!eddie, use of y/n lol i did not use y/n once!, pet names

a/n: i am… so sorry. that’s all i’ll say for now.

Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated.

—

January 1991

Eddie’s POV

“Eddie? Eddie!” The voice is familiar, but too far away. He can’t see anything beyond a spinning figure, but he feels the harsh slapping on his face before someone drags him by his armpits into the bathtub. “Cmon, man, please.”

Then there’s water, and it’s cold, and Eddie’s trying to move but he can’t, he can only cough and choke as the shower spray gets into his nose and mouth.

“Oh fuck, thank fucking God.” Then there are footsteps, and Eddie’s hauled out of the bathroom on a stretcher, the frantic voice following closely behind.

-

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

“Ed, they’re looking for you. Two minutes.”

Eddie nods, waving the security off and turning back to her. “You’re still in Ohio, then?”

“Yeah, seems it. Nothing really goin’ on here, though.”

“Isn’t that kind of a good thing?”

She shrugs, her lips pursed. “Guess so, if it means you’re here.”

Eddie chuckles shyly. “Well, I should get moving, or Steve will have my head.

She nods eagerly, wrapping herself tightly around Eddie’s torso, causing him to shift uncomfortably. He hasn’t seen her since before, and he realizes now he’s not that person anymore. It causes his heart to skip with anxious energy.

“See ya.” She sends him a wink, and he waves as she turns on her heel to venture back into the crowd.

The security guard is still there, humming the chorus to Under The Bridge as it plays out of the house speakers, leaning against the wall as he waits for Eddie to finish with the pretty, dainty girl he’s with, and Eddie returns to him like a scolded child. “Alright, let’s go.”

“That your girl?” He asks, making small talk with the rockstar he has likely no interest in.

Eddie shakes his head. “God, no. A friend, maybe. Not even that much, not anymore.”

“Guy like you doesn’t need to dwell on that, man. Sure you got plenty of ladies lined up for a chance with you.”

He snorts, amused by this guy’s casualty. “You’d be surprised.”

The guard escorts Eddie all the way to the stage, where Steve is seething and huffing about, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Sorry, sorry. Ran into someone.”

Steve’s expression softens slightly at the mention. “Was it-“

“Yeah. But it’s fine, really. Civil, even.”

“Right. In that case, I’m still mad at you,”

“Sure, of course. Can we hold off on my discipline until after the show?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, breathing deeply as if to prevent himself from taking a swing at Eddie. “Fine. Go.”

Eddie bows his head to thank him, and takes his place next to his bandmates, who’d been left waiting restlessly for their frontman, again. “Hey-“

“Shut up.” Jeff silences him. “Don’t wanna hear it.” And it’s fair. They shouldn’t have to listen to his excuses. He’s supposed to be working on himself, and all he’s managed to do is piss off the people that matter to him most. The house lights dim, and Eddie watches as the crowd grow feral, shoving toward the stage, shaking the metal barricades standing between them and the stage. His heart thumps in his ears, in time with the crowd’s eager chants of “COFFIN, COFFIN,” a command he’s inclined to obey. It drags him forward, led by his band onto the stage to present themselves to a mass of people that want to tear them apart.

The stage lights up with the first chord, and Eddie hears the audience beyond his monitor. He looks back to Gareth, who’s awestruck at the noise, then to Jeff who holds his hand over his chest, genuinely thanking these people for coming. Eddie wants to feel it, too. The warmth these people seem to offer his friends, but he’s somewhere else. He can’t get used to it, like he’s wearing shoes half a size too small. It makes him shift uncomfortably inside his skin, constantly feeling the eyes of thousands on him, relying on him, there for him. It’s then that he realizes he’s sober on stage, for the first time in five years.

He’d stuck to his word, now twenty four hours without consuming a drop of alcohol. He feels his chest tighten, like a hand made of knives has broken open his ribcage to squeeze his heart until it pops. His lungs will fill with his own blood and he’ll choke, he watches as it flashes before him, a panic stricken fantasy but Eddie wouldn’t say unrealistic.

His friends are looking at him. The crowd is calming with their increased confusion; a late start and now a strange, empty pause. He has to fill it. He can’t find you, and he’s taking too long, and it’s starting to confuse his band, so he shouts into the blackness “HELLO, COLUMBUS!” and the room combusts with the release of tension. “I am so sorry we’re late. Thank you for waiting. Let’s burn this fucking place down.” Gareth hits his sticks together, both a warning and a courtesy that there’s no stopping now, and Eddie rides the momentum. He nails every incoming note without thought, and he can feel the vibrations through the building, both of the music and the crowd. He gets the same rush he used to, when he was wide eyed and bushy tailed, younger and in love with the life of a rockstar. For a second, he feels it again, in the same place he’d felt the least alive at this time two years ago.

-

Your POV

“What the hell!” You stomp up to Steve, screaming over the noise of the stage into his face. “Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Steve only smirks. “How does it feel, huh? To not have a fucking clue what’s going on? He’ll tell you. I can’t-“

“Blah!” You throw your hands into the air, “I get it, you can’t tell me. Just… who’s the girl?”

Steve’s smile only grows. “Are you jealous?”

You groan, more from exhaustion than embarrassment. “Of course I’m fucking jealous, Steve! Don’t play dumb! Please, don’t make me feel stupid.”

His face falls, and he grabs you by the shoulders, jolting you into focus. “You have nothing to worry about. That I do know.”

It’s not enough, but it’s all you’re gonna get. You can’t help but respect it, the commitment to keeping Eddie’s business to himself. Truth be told, Steve is probably dying to tell you. “It’s that big, huh?” He nods sadly, and you mirror him in understanding. “But he’s going to tell you. He’s gonna tell you everything, and it’s gonna be a lot to digest. So I’ll be here when he tells you.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me.”

He nods. “That’s my intention. You might not get the answers you want, but you’ll get answers.”

-

You watch the tail end of their set with your brain going in circles. What could Steve possibly mean, the answers you don't want? What answers do you want? Who’s the girl, for starters. But mostly, what happened, in the two years without contact? What made you so angry? You can’t imagine an answer heavy enough to break you, not off the top of your head. Whatever it is, you want it. Even if it’s just to understand Eddie a little more. Even if it means he can’t be with you. Even if it means you have to let him go.

“Thank you!” Eddie shouts after the final note of a song you couldn’t name. “Thanks for comin’ out, Columbus!” The crowd shrieks, ratting your brain inside your head. “And give it up again for DEATH DANCE APPROXIMATELY!” The crowd politely continues cheering, and a small girl next to you sends you a bright smile. “So, so grateful to have them on this whole tour with us, you have no idea.” Eddie laughs bashfully, out of character for him to do while on stage. It’s a small thing, something you shouldn’t have noticed, but of course you did. He’s nervous. You squint, as if it will help you read him better, and it doesn’t. “This is our last song, I wanna hear you all. Loud as you can, alright?” The crowd whoops, and Corroded Coffin start in on Sweetheart, and you almost choke on your tears immediately.

Eddie has always said the closing song is the most important. It’s the one freshest in their mind, the one that will stick with them the most. It has to be perfect. He’d never used Sweetheart as the closer, and it’s obvious Gareth and Jeff weren’t ready for it, probably assuming Eddie skipped it reading the setlist. Eddie’s voice shakes slightly as he sings, but it’s perfect. His eyes stay closed the whole time, and you desperately wish he’d open them, find you in the wings, and sing the words to you again. Like he had, any time you’d asked him to just because you could. You sing along, lose yourself in the lyrics for the first time in years, actually hearing the words meant for you.

And then it’s over, and they’re thanking the crowd and bowing, and walking off stage, and even though you know you’re gonna see it all again night after night, even though you have seen it tens of times already, you miss it. The feeling of a shrieking crowd feeling all of their feelings while you feel yours. The feelings you hope you can give to your own audience. You feel like a teenager seeing their favorite band for the first time, and you’d forgotten how good that felt.

Robin seems to appear from thin air next to you. “Hey!” She semi-shouts over the bustling crowd. “Are you crying?” It’s a question you should absolutely be used to by now. You hadn’t noticed this time, though. “Oh!” You sniff, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, guess I was. Not sad, though.” Not necessarily true, but for now a nonissue.

“We’re all goin’ out tonight.”

You shake your head. “I’ll catch up.” She frowns at you. “It’s okay! I’ll tell you everything I can after.”

The possibility of a gossip session soothes her curiosity, and she squeezes your arm before continuing to wiggle through the crowd. You follow her backstage, into the massive dressing area backstage, where Eddie sits with his bandmates in a circle of metal fold out chairs, each of them holding a beer. Besides Eddie, who fiddles with the label of his water bottle.

“Right!” Jeff pats Eddie’s knee as he speaks, “We’re goin’ out. celebrating our biggest show to date.”

It’s then that Eddie lifts his eyes and catches you staring. You don’t bother averting yours to the floor, already having been caught red handed. “Do you guys mind if I sit this one out? I uh, have a prior engagement.” The girl, you’re sure. The girl you have nothing to worry about, the girl Eddie knows in the nowhere state of Ohio. You chew on the inside of your lip until you draw blood, anxious and suddenly unsure of everything Steve had tried to warn you about.

“Yeah, man, of course. Come out if you change your mind, though.” With that, Gareth and Jeff exit the room, and your friends follow suit soon after, leaving you and Eddie alone.

-

Eddie’s POV

Now, I have to do it right now. “Hey,”

You face him, eyes wide with questions he so desperately wants to answer for you. Your hands are clasped tightly together, your knuckles white and arms flexed, jaw clenched. “You wanna get some coffee?”

Your nod is vigorous, and he holds his elbow out for you. You quickly latch onto him, and Eddie feels just how anxious you must be. He can’t imagine where your head’s at, with your nightmares and your constant, irritating habit of caring about him so much. He’s exhausting you, and all he wants now is to let you rest.

Eddie asks a remaining staff member to escort the two of you out the back way, and into the warmth of the summer night. “Is there even somewhere that sells coffee around here? Let alone somewhere that’s open?” You joke, and he chuckles.

“I guess I didn’t think that far ahead. Ah!” He points down the road, to the glowing 7-Eleven sign. “Onward!” You laugh, and it floods through Eddie, like it’s drenching his head in ice water, refreshing him. He’s since dropped his arm, but yours stays locked around him, like if you let go he’d run away. As if he’d ever think to do such a thing.

He breaks the thick silence finally, after several minutes of walking through it. “You uh, said you wanted to talk?”

You look up at him. “I did?”

“Yeah, uh, this morning? We didn’t really get the chance.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah I guess so. I just,” You shake your head, frustrated, “I have questions.”

“Okay,” Eddie shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant. He wants to give you the answers. Finally, he wants to be completely open with you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, shoot. I’ll answer your questions.”

“Any of them?”

“All of ‘em, sweetheart.” He can’t help it, he loves watching you shy away at the nickname, cute and soft, under all that armor.

-

Your POV

“Okay…” You have to be careful. One wrong move, and he’s shutting you out again. “Where’d you go tonight?” A subtle way to ask it, you think. Not accusatory, just curious, bordering on nosey.

“I ran into an old friend. From group.” You snap your neck, catching the words he says so casually.

“Group?”

Eddie nods, “NA-slash-AA.”

This is nowhere near where you thought this conversation would go. Every question you’d had crumbles at his answer. “What?”

“I’m more of a casual attendee, lately.” You feel your head fill up with more questions, and you’re drowning. “When did you-“ You’re expecting him to cut you off, but he waits. “When did you start going to meetings?”

Eddie looks to the sky as if to find the answer in the blackness above. “Early into 1991. There was still snow on the ground.”

“What um,” You’re walking the tightrope here, and you heed Steve’s warning. “What made you decide to go?”

Eddie looks at you again, his expression sad. “Had a really, really bad night.”

“What happened?” You ask, too quickly. It’s not fair, and you don’t have any right to know the answer, but Eddie snorts a laugh, like this news isn’t breaking your heart to learn. “Steve saved my life. I’m surprised he hasn’t divulged this story to you, even with the fact that I begged him not to tell anyone. Took me years to even tell the guys. I had gotten so bad, I didn’t care what happened to me. I was drinking myself to sleep every night, wallowing in self pity, barely able to function. I was worse than any time before. Worse than I was when you’d called me that night.”

“What night?”

“You were drunk, you probably don’t remember. Sometime in September of the year before, I’d been up all night trying, and you called me at home.” The memory comes back in a tidal wave. You’d just finished recording your EP, your first cohesive body of work, and with it had been signed to Sub Pop. Things had been looking up for you after cutting things off with him in July, but somewhere far away, Eddie had been drowning.

Before you can say anything, he continues, “Anyway, we were on a kind of hiatus as a band, had been for about a year at this point. I had nothing to get me out of bed before three in the afternoon, nothing to distract me from my pity party. I went out every night, drank until I couldn’t see, and did lines in the bathroom with people I didn’t care to know. I probably slept with six or seven different people a week, sometimes more. I couldn’t stop, because then I’d have to feel my feelings, and I was so afraid of them. One time,” He has the gall to chuckle, “after I got kicked out of a bar in New York for trying to fight the bouncer, I was so wasted and beaten that I fell asleep in my front yard with my pants around my ankles. Really glad I don’t have neighbors.”

It all pours out so easily now, like he’s telling you about his trip to the grocery store. “I uh, only got worse after that.” He stops, and you look up at him, waiting with wide, stinging eyes. “You sure you want me to keep going?” You nod. You don’t want to know, but you have to. As much as you suspect it’s gonna hurt, it means something that he’s finally willing to tell you.

He pushes forward. “On New Year's Eve of ‘91, I mixed whiskey and Steve’s Xanax. Way too much of it. Harrington found me passed out in the bathroom of my hotel room at around 1AM and called an ambulance. I'd written a note and everything.”

He pauses again to let you digest it all, and the silence sends a piercing ring through your ears. The words coming out of his mouth feel so far away, disconnected from the mouth they’re coming from. You’d never known Eddie to give up. Nothing had stopped him before; from finishing high school, from getting out of Hawkins, from being a rockstar. Regardless of how angry, or frustrated, or beaten he'd gotten, Eddie had always bounced back.

He finally pulls you from your thoughts. “That was the worst of it, but it had been a long time coming. When we were,” He gestured lamely to the air, “seeing each other, I was usually either on a run or coming down. I didn’t hide it well, I was almost sure you’d known, or at least suspected something. I was so angry and twitchy all the time. As much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn’t bring you into it, though. I never wanted you to know, and in a lot of ways I still don’t. Actually, please tell me you don’t wanna know. I’ll shut right the fuck up.”

“Nice try, but you underestimate how nosey I am.” He laughs, and you smile despite it all. “When did you start, I guess doing coke?” He doesn’t think about it for long. “Ironically, New Year’s Eve 1990 was the first time. I was a pro at it by May. I'd been drinking heavily for years by then, guess I wanted to jazz it up to ring in the new decade.” He stops walking and pivots to look at you, suddenly eager, and in no way aware of how jarring what he’d just said was. “Do you remember when I would get nosebleeds all the time, or when I’d sneeze and there’d be a giant snot bubble?” You nod, your face contorting with disgust at the memories. You remember a specific time, when you’d been making out with him in his hotel room in Boston, and his nose had just started dripping blood onto your bare chest. He’d gotten so pissed off at himself he’s left without putting his shirt or shoes back on. “Yeah, that had nothing to do with the humidity. Deep down, I think you knew that.”

He’s right, but you can still feel the crack in your heart spiderweb and spread as you hear these suspicions about Eddie confirmed.

“When was the last time?”

“The first or second night of the tour, I think.”

“Are you still drinking?” Dustin’s question makes more sense to you now. You wonder how he’d found out.

Eddie hesitates, as if fighting himself on whether to answer truthfully. “I didn’t today. It’s the first full day I’ve gone in a while. Touring is always difficult, and I’m sure you understand why this time is uh, particularly stressful.”

“Because of me.” Obviously.

“Because I know how badly I’ve hurt you, and because I know I haven’t made it up to you yet. I haven't earned your trust or even your time by any means, and I hate that you’re seeing me like this when you should be enjoying your first full US tour.” He chokes the last words out. You’ve stopped walking again, waiting at a deserted intersection, not yet ready to cross. “I’ve been fucking up recently, which is why I haven’t said anything. It’s not because I don’t want you. I want you so, so much. I just can’t do it yet.”

“Eddie,” You reach for him, and he lets you. You hold his face in your hands, feeling his flushed cheeks warm your palms as you look at him under the streetlights. “You don’t earn things like help and support, Eddie, not from people that-“ You pause. Not now, it’s not fair. “People that care about you. Thank you for telling me, I can’t imagine what you must be feeling; surrounded by triggers at all times, having to see me so much. I never would have agreed to the tour if I’d known—,“

He cuts you off, shaking his head, wafting the scent of his shampoo at you. “Don’t do that, please. This is not your fault, this is my own undoing. You are exempt from blame here.”

“I wish I’d known you were struggling. I wish I could have helped.”

Eddie traps your hands with his own on his face. “I know. I do, too.”

A sob shoves its way through your lips, and you can’t rebuild the dam fast enough. You’re crying, ugly sobbing with snot and mascara painting your face into a sad clown. It may be a cry of relief, having finally understood where your love had gone, so to speak, and seeing a glimpse of him right now. A version of Eddie happy, warm. He smiles at you, a big, beautiful smile, but his eyes are so sad. “I wish I had known to ask. Would have saved us both so much trouble.” Eddie drops his hands to your waist and pulls you closer to him, your coffee quest long forgotten. “I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.” You do not fight it, because there’s so much for him to be sorry for, regardless of if you want the apology. You trust that he means it. “I won’t push you for anything else. But I need you to ask for help, when you need it. I'm not gonna turn you away.” You wrap your arms around his torso, as physical proof of your words. You feel his arms as they surround your head, and he pulls you further into his chest. His breathing deep and even, heart beating soundly, you let yourself inhale him, indulge in his closeness even for a second. You eventually start to pull away, but he catches you, and you crane your head up to look at him, your nose inches away from his. Eddie’s eyes flick to your lips. It’s a fraction of a second, but you notice because you always do. You mimic him, flicking your eyes over his soft, pink lips and back to his deep, sweet brown eyes.

He moves first, but you’re quick to follow, and Eddie catches your lips with his, and you fight the urge to once again burst into tears. The kiss is one you haven’t felt in so long, like sleeping in your own bed after months being crammed inside a van or a two star motel. It’s a deep, yearning type of kiss you hadn’t known you were missing. Eddie moves a hand to cradle your head, like he’s holding the most valuable thing in the world. He’s gentle, almost timid, like the wrong move will ruin everything, break you both into pieces you won’t be able to fit back together. His lips are so soft, with no aggression or anxiety behind them, no nervous, frantic energy like he needs to consume you before you disappear. He takes his time, and you swim in the calm of it all. You rest your hand on his jaw, your finger lightly brushing his ear, the other stuck with your palm against his chest, squished between your bodies.

The last time Eddie kissed you like this was the day before he almost died. Before he cut that stupid sheet rope and tried to be a hero, he’d held you like you were the only thing on earth worth dying for. This time, though, there’s no rush, no impending doom to cut it short. You wonder if you’re pushing it, if this is too much for him, because it’s almost too much for you.

You pull away for a second. “Is this allowed?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I think I know what you’re asking, but what do you mean?”

“Like, while you’re recovering. Shouldn’t you be more focused on that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Probably. And I will be. But I’m sober right now, at least, and all I can think about is you. And now you know everything, and you still kiss me like I’ve always been worthy of it. Even when I’m still not.”

“Do I really know everything now?” You lace your fingers through his and resume your walk.

He looks at you. “Do you have more questions?”

You have so many, but you’re so tired, so emotionally drained. “What do you think about, when you think about me?”

Eddie snorts a laugh at your question and you hide your face in your free hand. “Nothing good. You’re under my skin, doll. Always have been. Hey, look at that,” you look to where he’s pointing, the bright lights of the 7-Eleven store. “I’m kinda over coffee. You wanna watch a movie? For old time’s sake?” You nod wordlessly as your heart skips about, and he opens the door for you so you can grab some snacks instead.

-

Another hotel room, with boring white walls and bright white bed sheets. Eddie’s suitcases already sit in the corner, placed there by the hotel staff, complimentary mints on the pillows. Eddie flicks the bedside lamps on before fiddling with the remote, and you immediately realize, you’re once again without your own clothes. “Could I borrow-“ Eddie throws a shirt that lands perfectly draped over your face and you’re overwhelmed with his scent. “Thanks.” You deadpan, removing the fabric. He’s tossed a pair of his shorts onto the bed in front of you as well, and you’re silently grateful, because you wouldn’t have asked for them. He quickly flings his shirt off his head, and you watch as he swaps his jeans for a pair of worn flannel pajama pants.

Eddie then clicks the TV on, searching the channels aimlessly for something to watch before quickly giving up, muting it on a late night talk show. “How are you doing?” He’s already sprawled on the bed, resting his head in his hand to look at you, still in your clothes.

“I’m just digesting, I guess.” You face away from him to pull your sweat soaked shirt over your head and toss it on the floor, feeling his eyes on your bare back. You never wear a bra onstage, but you’re regretting it now. You yank Eddie’s shirt over your head to hide your butt as you yank your tights down, suddenly very aware of the color of your panties: red, and far too lacy for these circumstances. You yank Eddie’s boxers up your legs, and feel decent enough to face him again.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He blurts as you slide into the space next to him, on top of the covers still.

“What do you mean?”

“After dark, sharing a bed, sharing my clothes,” He gestures to you, dressed head to toe in Eddie Couture. “Someone might see us. People are gonna start getting suspicious.”

“You think they’re not already?” You shift to lay on your side, now looking at him straight on. “We aren’t exactly being discrete as of late.”

He gives you a half shrug. “Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“The fans, making assumptions.”

You think about your choice of words. “I thought it would. I think it bothered me more that they weren’t right.”

Eddie cracks a goofy smile, and you swat at him uselessly. “You want to be having a steamy secret affair with the douchebag frontman of Corroded Coffin?” He teases, poking at you.

“Oh, shut up.” There’s no malice in your voice. “You know what I mean. They have it all figured out. We’re together, in love, not ready to share it with the world or whatever. Much less complicated than whatever it is we’re actually doing.”

Eddie considers this for a moment. “Guess that’s true. I don’t think I could explain any of what we’re doing to Steve, let alone the public.”

You sigh. Poor, ignorant Steve. There’s only so much you’d be able to tell him for sure. “He’d have a heart attack.”

“I’ve already spooked him enough for a whole lifetime, I can’t drop this bomb on him too.”

“Let’s not worry about that. We don’t even know what we’re doing.”

“I just know I wanna keep doing it.” The way he says it sends you reeling instantly, drawing you into him, closing the distance between his lips and yours. You melt into him, wrapping your leg around his waist as he grips the flesh of your hip. Your hand slides effortlessly into his hair, tangling around your fingers, pulling a moan from Eddie���s throat as you tug him further into you. You can feel his gentry twitch in his pants, only a few thin layers of fabric separating him from your core. You roll your hips against him, sighing as his tip bumps against your clit, desperate for friction.

Eddie moves, latching his lips onto your throat causing your brain to fog. Your chest heaves as he nips at your skin, marking you, making your head swim with pleasure. You feel his fingers toying with the hem of his t-shirt, his calloused fingers sliding under the fabric to caress your skin, sending chills up and down your whole body. You shiver, and he pulls away. “Wanna stop?”

“Shouldn’t we?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

So you kiss him again, hungrier now. You help him yank his shirt over your head, abandoning it on the floor next to yours. Eddie shifts again, pressing your bare chest against his before breaking the kiss suddenly. “May I, uh,” He stutters like he’s a nervous teenager again, as if he’s seeing his first pair of boobs ever.

“Please.” You sigh, and it propels Eddie on, shifting down the bed until he’s eye level with your chest.

“God, I missed you.” He rasps, and you don’t have time to ask if he’s talking to you or your tits before he runs his tongue over your nipple, pulling a whine from your throat. You feel his other hand slide down your torso, freezing when it reaches the waistband of his boxers. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you let me take care of you?”

—

chapter XIX

haha hehe hahahahah ha ha. ha

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc

[foster-the-world]

Not helpful

I get the kids ready for school while my husband gets ready for work. Then he walks all three the one block to school on his way to the office. The girls are fine obviously. They get so excited to see their friends as if they hadn't just seen them the night before. Its nice to see. Baby boy is often unregulated. Running ahead, bumping into things, randomly laying on the ground. If I take him alone he walks calmly while holding my hand. Something about being with his sisters makes him act up.

This morning this older Jamaican women goes up to them and starts giving baby boy a talking to. "I see you giving your Dad trouble. You need to stop that. When you get older you are going to make him sad." WTF? Who the hell tells a 3yo they will make their Father sad when they grow up. Then she tells my husband "you need to take things away." Tells baby boy whose generally ignoring her and flailing around, per the usual "he's going to take away your TV." This got his attention. "I like a tiny TV. Don't take it away." He says tiny in place of a small amount and I love it so much. Anyway, just another non helpful bit of parenting advice from a random stranger. Glad it was my husband and not me.

In cuter news baby boy was looking at a book of animals. He said he wanted to pet a large snake. I said won't you be scared. His response "No, I'll have my sisters with me." What a sweet, sweet boy who knows his sisters have his back.

His teacher told me that he finished lunch first and she knew she needed to do something to keep him entertained. So she lets him put on his favorite police costume. She tells the rest of the class that baby boy is in charge. The kids apparently loved it and baby boy took his duties very seriously.

The social worker and CPSE lady came to watch baby boy/put together some ideas to help him. His teacher said he's doing really well but they are very glad to have "a little extra support" as she put it. I get the feeling everyone loves him but he does take up more then his fair share of their time. I'm glad to have the private special ed teacher coming seven hours a week. At least the teachers can take a break then. Then he'll be in individual OT and speech sessions another two hours a week. Combine that with lunch, nap and recess where he behaves just fine. They've got most of the day covered.

[steviesbicrisis]

After they start dating, Eddie refuses to call Steve the nickname baby because he already calls his guitar that and “she was here first Stevie”

Steve never had a thing for pet names before.

Being used to dating girls, sometimes they would call him "honey" or "babe" but nothing more. And he never was one to call any of his dates by something different than their name.

He even shuddered when he heard other couples being all lovely dovely, with 600 different pet names one more disgustingly sweet than the other.

So, the only logical explanation is to blame Eddie for this.

He never even considered guys before he called him "big boy", so it seems only fair to give him credit for this new fixation he got.

Steve got to the point where he could admit it to himself, but to anyone else? especially Eddie? not a chance.

"I can hide it easily," he tells himself.

Except that no, he can't. Eddie throws all types of nicknames at him ("big boy" and "pretty boy" being his favorite ones to use) and Steve's heart skips a bit every time.

He acts like the pet name doesn't affect him, but he always takes a couple of seconds before replying to Eddie, sometimes he stutters or looks away, and Eddie knows why. So he does it even more.

At one point Steve can't help but notice that Eddie has never used "baby", not even once. It shouldn't even be that big of a deal, but just the idea of Eddie calling him baby makes him feel hot all over.

Now, every time Eddie calls him something, Steve is waiting for "baby", but it never comes. Even the other nicknames lose their effects on him, and Eddie notices this too.

«What is going on with you?» he asks, seeing Steve's pout at being called "cutie".

«Nothing»

«I don't think so, sweetheart» Eddie teases.

Steve groans «you never call me baby!» he admits, out of frustration.

«oh» Eddie stares at him, then grins «I didn't think you liked pet names that much.»

Steve rolls his eyes «I don’t know what your talking about.»

«Whatever you say, pretty boy.»

Eddie busies himself sorting out his tape collection, leaving Steve unhappy with the abrupt end of their conversation.

«So, why don’t you?» Steve asks, after a few minutes of silence.

«So why don’t I, what?»

Steve really hates him for making him say it.

«Why do you never call me baby?»

«oh I’m sorry Stevie» he keeps his attention on the tapes, but he’s clearly enjoying the conversation «but baby is reserved for a very special lady.»

«what.»

«I think you heard me very well»

«Who is she??» Steve sputters, outraged.

«You can meet her now, wait one second» he disappears into his bedroom.

A million thoughts go through Steve’s mind in the few seconds Eddie is away.

Isn’t Eddie gay? Did he get that wrong? Why would he mention a lady only now? Was she hiding in his closet or something? How mad should he be?

His worries come to a halt once Eddie enters the room, carrying his guitar. Finally Steve understands.

«Oh, fuck you Eds! Seriously»

«Steve, meet my baby, the love of my life!»

«I fucking hate you»

«I’m sorry Stevie, she was here first.»