#WHY THE FREAK IS THERE A WHOLE OTHER GAME IN HERE?

[lgbtlunaverse]

Fandom is so nice to Jiang Cheng's inferiority complex because in reality every single thing he gets accused of is something Wei Wuxian is better at than him.

Jiang Cheng killed Wei Wuxian? Nope. Didn't even get close. Wei Wuxian's own spirits tore him apart before jc could even get there. wwx:1 jc:0

Jiang Cheng tortures people? We get two and a half rumours and a mention from jin ling that jc has 'captured' demonic cultivators before, but who is also apparently confident that just letting wwx run off will kill the issue even though those earlier rumours said ~no one who sandu shengshou captured was ever seen again~

The word jiang cheng uses when he tries to talk big game about 'beating the truth' out of Wei Wuxian's is a word that carries the context of pestering someone to do their homework. Doesn't exactly strike fear into my heart.

Wei Wuxian? Excellent at torture. A prodigy. Did you fucking see what he did to Wen Chao? Dude didn't have fingers anymore because wei wuxian made him eat them. He ripped out his hair, burned his skin off, and then stalked him for several days just to prolong the pain. He forced Wang Lingjiao to bite Wen Chao's dick off and then made her shove a stool leg down her own throat! 10/10, no notes. Absolutely horrifying.

Meanwhile Jiang Cheng's idea of torture is getting a dog to bark at Wei Wuxian for a few seconds. Weak, unoriginal, I bet fairy was literally wagging her tail the whole time. 2-0

Jiang Cheng made the entire cultivation world believe Wei Wuxian was up to no good on the burial mounds and ultimately orchestrated his downfall? lol. lmao, even

It's a big thing in certain corners of the fandom to really zoom in one one particular phrase at the end of chapter 73, where after wwx and jc have their staged duel to make the world believe they hate each other jiang cheng tells everyone wwx has defected and become "a public enemy'' or "an enemy to the cultivation world" or whatever the translation you're familiar with decided upon.

(As an aside, something I really like about this line is that the last half of it is almost exactly the same, like verbatim, as what wwx told him to say. like, the chapter is really hammering home just how much jc is speaking from a script here. wwx tells jc to say "今后魏无羡无论做出什么事，都与云梦江氏无关." and jc says "今后无论此人有何动作，一概与云梦江氏无关" the only meaningful difference is that he says 'this person' instead of wwx's name)

I've seen it said that this bit, the use of 'enemy' was said without wei wuxian's approval, that jc deviated from the script just to hurt his ex-shixiong for leaving him. And that this is what caused all the other clans to turn against wei wuxian. Regardless of if this is what jc and wwx discussed, or if jc had malicious motivations for it (considering my conclusions above, you can guess where i fall) it doesn't really matter, because the novel tells us when the clans completely freak out and become convinced wei wuxian is out to get them (though of course they've been wringing their hands about it since the literal day wwx ran off with the wen, months before jiang cheng visited) very neatly in chapter 75!

It's when they find out about Wen Ning.

And how do they find out about Wen Ning?

Because Wei Wuxian took him on nighthunts! And they kicked ass!

...Wei Wuxian, my man, why are you on nighthunts??? Why are you showing off your incredibly cool sentient fierce corpse buddy, who is way better and stronger than all the other fierce corpses, in front of the whole cultivation world??

Whatever his motivations (extra money, maybe?? they were strapped for crash) I can only draw the conclusion wwx had already given up on appearing calm or non-threatening and didn't care if the clans thought he was a threat, because they'd believe whatever they wanted anyway. Which he seems to clearly be aware of the whole time.

Regardless, we know that this is what created the myth of the Yiling patriarch. It's literally when the title first shows up!

Even if you really believe jc was secretly plotting against wwx in chapter 73, he's clearly doing a shit job of it because nothing he said made anywhere near as big an impact as this. Flopped!

The other point people use to argue Jiang Cheng caused wei wuxian's downfall is Jin Guangyao's speech in Guanyin temple about how jiang cheng could have saved wei wuxian if only he stood by him. Setting aside that jin guangyao is trying to get into jiang cheng's head here, and isn't necessarily saying what he really believes (though it very well might be! who knows with a character like jgy. assuming he's always lying is just as misleading as assuming he's always saying the truth) the fact is, if you read the speech closely, what he's talking about is not the 'public enemy' line, he's talking about the bond between them. The fact that people wanted wei wuxian out of yunmeng jiang, because the two were too powerful together.

He's talking about that one time Jiang Cheng very publically kicked wei wuxian out of the sect!

Which, unbeknownst to Jin Guangyao, was in fact Wei Wuxian's idea the whole time.

final score: 3 for you wei wuxian, you go wei wuxian! And nothing for Jiang Cheng bye.

[magicjesuscup]

I have feelings towards solo-romanced Halsin's ending/epilogue.

Halsin and Tav celebrate all night, and in the morning Halsin starts throwing out mixed signals. He's leaving to take care of the kids that were orphaned after the netherbrain fight and doesn't give any indication that he wants Tav to go with him, but it also doesn't sound like his feelings for Tav have changed.

I would've been (1) confused by the lack of an option to go with him, (2) hurt because this sounds like a break-up speech (like a "we shouldn't be together anymore, but let's stay friends" type thing), and (3) concerned that something's wrong because he's otherwise been a very good communicator up until this point.

It looks like originally going with him wasn't even an option (which was a weird choice to offer him as a love interest, but not give players a way to stay with him at the end of the game), and when that was patched in, they did it in the meanest way they could. Tav's line is:

Visit as soon as I can? Don't be an ass, Halsin. I'll come with you right now.

Oof. I wouldn't talk to my lover like this, and I don't know that I'd stay with someone who talked to me like that. I also want to note that I think you only get the cute, bragging "I love Halsin" lines to say to the other companions at the party if you call him an ass here first. Thanks, I hate it. I wish it was something more along the lines of:

Why can't I go with you?

Either option could've led to (most) of Halsin's dialog that followed.

But what about all that you'll miss out on? Your name will be feted in this city - there will be parades, medals, feasts, hands to be shaken, babies to be kissed…are you truly sure.

I know in the epilogue he's still surprised Tav chose him, and I'm trying to figure out why, and why he didn't throw out Tav accompanying him as an option. I get that a lot of people he loved/cared about didn't stay in life, but none of them left him voluntarily. His parents, the archdruid before him, and his peers died to either illness or the shadow curse. Thaniel's absence is only temporary if you lift the shadow curse, and the only reason he "left" in the first place was because he was trapped by the curse.

It would've made way more sense to me if he had a little freak out after falling in love with Tav and having the realization that the person he loves could turn into an illithid thrall. They would be gone, and he might have to kill what's left if they tried to eat his or someone else's brain. Also, it would absolutely be horrific to watch Tav go through ceremorphosis. Having a mind flayer parasite isn't the same as being sick, but it is a physical affliction that Halsin can't fix. He's weirdly positive that they'll find a cure, and they never do (at least not in the sense of medication or surgery).

It also would've made sense if he had a bit of a breakdown if Tav asks for one last kiss before the final battle starts ramping up. Things are getting stupid dangerous, and this has historically been when his friends start dying. But, nope he's still super calm here too and optimistic that they'd live (although after their night together, he admits he didn't dare believe they'd actually survive).

I'm not sure if they did the whole, "I'm going to ride off into the sunset, but watch the horizon for you everyday," thing to add some drama, but it feels out of place considering these other options. If Tav was going to "leave" it would've been due to the parasite or not surviving the battle. In the epilogue, those dangers have passed. If anything, it's at this part of the story where he should've felt most secure in their relationship because he's never had someone leave him "just because."

[lostplay]

Game 8: Neodori Forever (Jan 2024) Neodori Forever really does capture this really ascetically pleasing polygon look that both makes it look dated and a treat to the eyes. It's what charmed me into getting it, and it's what ultimately helped me push through this wonky game. Controls and track design are so fundamentally important to racing games that if you mess with it too much it can make the game unbearable. Sadly, Neodori does not have a proper sense of control nor does it use standard track design. Like I wish I could tell you the game gets challenging, but really the biggest challenge was the controls, and figuring out how to work the first initial tracks. It's not that there isn't track design, but there isn't unique track design. Like it's not exactly to the point that each track feels the same; it's the fact that they are never the same track twice in a row. For a racing game, memorizing track lay out is important as it helps you get better as you learn the game's deeper mechanics. Neodori however favors learning how to drift with it's simple controls, and while that's not inherently bad, THE FACT DIFFERENT CARS HANDLE DIFFERENTLY AND YOU MUST UNLOCK THEM THROUGH A GACHA SYSTEM, IS. Both these factors of never having the same track twice when going into a level on top of not being able to control your own handling made for a lot of trial of error in the beginning, and nearly all the game fell apart once you get the drift mechanic to work properly along with a car that works with your handling. This really isn't to put down Neodori as I respect the game on an aesthetic level, and once you beat it you unlock so much content compared to the initial asking price. It's just that these odd design choices can also come with a very unfavorable beginning that can turn anyone away due to how trying it can be. Add that to the fact this game has a lot more modes to offer that may never be played because you're locked out of it makes for a rather bad concoction of suffering so you can have fun later. Overall tho, I can tell how much love went into Neodori, and if you like the look of it I really don't think you should let the fear of un-intuitive controls get the better of you. After all Metal Gear Solid still has plenty of fans.

[rallamajoop]

That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost

Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.

Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.

Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...

No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.

FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)

In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.

Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.

It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.

The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.

It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.

I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.

I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.

They probably deserve each other.

[dumbseee]

rumours, part two.

part one.

jude bellingham x influencer!reader.

fc: nailea devora.

_

groupchat: it girls 💕

larray:

ain’t no way you’re dating jude fucking bellingham and haven’t told us

y/n:

larry istg i’ll cut your hair in your sleep if you keep believing those DUMB rumours

oliviarodrigo:

girl

he’s hot asf why don’t you shoot your shot?

y/n:

with a footballer?

hell fucking no

these guys don’t know what being faithful to one person means

and i’ve heard plenty of shit about this jude guy

larray:

yeah me too tbh

y/n:

i’m not getting involved with him, period.

larray:

okay but what about his teammates?

y/n:

larry.

larray:

DO IT FOR ME

_

liked by judebellingham, yourbestie, larray and 789 928 others.

y/n: girls night 🥂

_

fan1: JUDE LIKED???

fan2: is she lying to us?? bc why would he like her posts now?

fan3: I JUST CHECKED AND HE’S FOLLOWING HER NOW TOO

fan4: maybe she lied to protect their privacy?? that would make sense tbh

fan5: you look so good 😍

fan6: she’s such a baddie omg, jude i get it now

fan7: didn’t know who she was before the whole jude drama but omg i love her

fan8: LEAVE JUDE ALONE YOU FREAK

fan9: petition for jude’s groupies to leave y/n alone

fan10: MOTHER

fan11: y/n please do another grwm i’m obsessed with your videos

fan12: how to be like her, she’s hot asf and has THEE jude bellingham at her feet

view all comments.

_

insta dms:

y/n:

wtf is wrong with you?

i told you to tell your fangirls to leave me alone and what are you doing? you LIKE my posts and you follow me now?

leave me alone, jude.

judebellingham:

you looked good

you always look good*

are you free, tomorrow night?

y/n:

can’t you READ?

LEAVE. ME. ALONEEEEE.

or i’m pressing charges on you hoe.

judebellingham:

so it’s a yes?

i’ll send you the tickets and my jersey, someone will come pick you up, what’s your address?

y/n:

wtf

what do you mean?

judebellingham:

we’re playing against sevilla and i want you to come

y/n:

we don’t even know each other tf??

is that how you get all those girls to get obsessed with you?

that ain’t gonna work with me, boy.

judebellingham:

hm, i like you already.

y/n:

well, i hate you.

judebellingham:

haha

turns me on, love it.

y/n:

i am BLOCKING you

_

i hate him. i fucking hate him. who does he think he is? making me come see him to his stupid game, what am i, his mother? seriously i could’ve stayed at home, binge-watching the twilight movies like i do every year. now i have to go to his fucking football game, it’s going to be so nosy, damn it. and before you ask me, YES i am getting ready and i am wearing his jersey. not because i want to, but i know that i won’t hear the end of it if i don’t do it. yeah, i’m doing it because he’s forcing me, no other reason.

like jude said, someone did pick me up to take me to the bernabeu stadium, and i can’t believe i’m doing this. the venue is full of fans wearing either their real madrid jerseys or their sevilla jerseys. i can see men, women, kids, elderly people, they’re all here to have fun and support their favourite team and i have to admit that it’s a cute sight. let’s just hope that they don’t kill each other’s at the end of the match. i’m quickly escorted to the vip section, where friends, family and important people would seat for the game.

"oh my god, is that y/n?" a voice called from behind, i closed my eyes shut, fuck, and walked faster, i should’ve wore a mask to hide my face. if anyone picture me in this stadium with that motherfucker’s jersey on, it would end my career and i’m half exaggerating.

thank god, the vip section was secluded from the other people. the game started and i had to admit that it was fun to watch when you weren’t really supporting anyone. no stress, just having fun watching men run after a ball, just like dogs. jude was actually good, i never looked him up on the internet to watch his performances, i just knew he was the internet’s favourite whore and girls were thirsting over him. he was good looking, of course, no one could deny that, but more than anything he was annoying as fuck. i surprised myself, cheering for him when he scored a goal, what was wrong with me.

real madrid was actually leading the game with two goals against one. jude’s teammate passed the ball to him and he scored his third goal of the match. okay now, why did this motherfucker just point at the crowd, more specifically towards me? people turned around to see where he was pointing at, but thankfully they couldn’t see me. my heart definitely sank when he did that though, seriously what is wrong with this guy! it was a cute gesture, yes, but we weren’t dating and i promised myself to never date an athlete, tried it once and promised to never doing it again. jude was everything i hated in a man, he was reckless, cocky, full of himself and he knew he was hot. nothing worse than a guy who knows he’s handsome.

_

"how was i?" he asked, this big smile plastered on his face, i wish i could tear it off his face. "fine, i guess." jude made a weird face and put his hands on his hips. "fine? y/n, i was more than fine and you know it, scored three goals and they were all for you." he blew me a kiss and i swore i was about to knock him out. "yeah about that, someone could’ve seen me!" i said, slapping his arm, making him laugh. "darling, that’s what i wanted." okay, the way he was looking at me may or may have not made my heart skip a beat. "jude, i’m starting to believe that the fans gaslighted you into thinking we’re already dating." he laughed, making my cheeks heat up just a bit. "i just want to give the fans what they want to see." he shrugged and put his arm around my shoulders to start walking out of the changing room. i imediatly pushed his arm away and speed walked in front of him to hide my red cheeks. of course, the bitch was laughing at me, running to catch me and poking my cheeks to mock me. "aww, you’re blushing? i thought you hated me, darling." i put my hands on my cheek. "fuck you! it’s just hot in here!" "it’s literally minus two degrees, y/n."

_

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham, oliviarodrigo and 890 918 others.

y/n: maybe football isn’t so bad 🙄

_

judebellingham: like the view? 👀

y/n: shut up.

fan1: SHE POSTED JUDE???

fan2: Y/N DID YOU LIE TO US???

y/n: WE’RE JUST FRIENDS GUYS OMG

judebellingham: for now* 🫢

y/n: jude istg…

fan3: OMGBSJSOSLSLMDMSLZ WTF

fan4: i am literally shitting bricks what the FUCK

fan5: i love the banter lmao they’re fun

fan6: i ship it tbh

fan7: y/n being a wag for 2024 omg

fan8: i love how she’s fighting it but we all know how it’s going to end

fan9: Y/N NOOOOOO NOT A FOOTBALLER

oliviarodrigo: well, well, well 👀

y/n: please not you too

larray: will you look at THAT

y/n: LARRY SHUT UP IM BEGGING

fan10: lmaoo even her friends are ratting her out

fan11: #savey/n

view all comments.

_

insta dms:

y/n:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME

DID YOU REALLY DM POP BASE TO TALK ABOUT US???

judebellingham:

mmh, i don’t know what you’re talking about

y/n:

jude bellingham.

judebellingham:

okay maybe i did

BUT I DIDN’T KNOW THEY’D RAT ME OUT LIKE THAT

y/n:

FOR FUCK’S SAKE

judebellingham:

anyways it’s not a big deal tbh

are you free tonight?

y/n:

no.

judebellingham:

nice, i’ll come pick you up at 9 <3

y/n:

are you BLIND?

i said no bitch

judebellingham:

suddenly i can’t read.

_

liked by judebellingham, larray, sabrinacarpenter and 901 927 others.

y/n: get you a man who eats his spaghettis with his hands 😍

_

judebellingham: i wonder who is this gentleman 🫢

y/n: yeah i wonder too 🙄

fan1: pls not jude carrying y/n’s purse

fan2: they’re so cute stop

fan3: my favourite couple

fan4: PARENTS

fan5: lmao i bet jude is the one who begged her to be his gf

y/n: yes.

fan6: JAISOSPXLD’´S

view all comments.

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's hanging out with Steve at Family Video when Robin stomps in like a whirlwind.

"Oh, god, I did something so dumb. You have to help meee."

They straighten from where they lean over the counter towards each other, and Eddie takes a big step back, sure that all his big gay feelings for Steve are on display.

"What did you do this time?" Steve smiles with exasperated fondness.

"It's so bad." Robin faceplants with a dramatic wail.

"What happened?" Eddie asks

"I--I'm so sorry!" She looks at both of them, and a tingle of panic works it's way up Eddie's spine.

"My parents started going on and on about me and Steve and why we won't just admit we're dating, and I started to freak out because they won't accept that we're just friends, and I'm not ready to tell them that I'm a lesbian, even though I think it would be okay, so, I told them you were dating someone, Steve."

"Well, that's not so bad, Rob. So, what, they think I have a girlfriend? Who cares."

Her shoulders slump and she frowns. "I wish that's what they thought. They kept asking who, and I panicked!"

"Robin." Steve looks alarmed now, his pretty mouth pulled into a grimace. "What did you tell them?"

"Okay, please don't hate me," she begs. She's looking at Steve, but then she's looking over at Eddie. And oh, god, oh fuck, this can't be happening.

"You've got to be kidding me, Buckley," he says. He keeps his voice light but the touch of panic has become a punch.

"Wait. How do you know--how does he--? Who am I dating?"

"Me, Harrington. She told them you were dating me."

"Oh," Steve shrugs. "Sure."

Eddie chokes on air, plays it off. "For you maybe, Stevie. We in the Munson household have standards."

Steve doesn't meet a beat. "I'll have you know, Edward, that I am a catch."

"Yeah, for the lovely ladies of Hawkins," Eddie winks, even though every word, every gesture aches.

"Oh, c'mon! I'm a great boyfriend. Defend me here, Robin"

Normally, Eddie finds these antics to be charming, but confronting his crush on Steve so forcefully has ruined his mood.

"Need a cigarette," he says to escape.

He's only alone for a few minutes before Steve is sidling up next to him.

"What's she need us to do?"

"Dinner."

He grimaces, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I'm so bad at meeting the parents."

"Shut-up." Steve pokes him in the chest. "Everyone loves you. It's kind of obnoxious, actually. Plus, I think this'll help her feel more comfortable about coming out."

He snorts if only so he doesn't have to think about Steve talking about him and love in the same sentence.

"Fine. For Buck, I'll do it." But he doesn't know how he'll get through pretending to date his biggest crush with out spontaneously combusting.

"Love the enthusiasm," Steve laughs. "You know I'd treat you right, Munson."

The blush that rolls over his face is crimson. "Alright, big boy, calm down. We're not actually dating."

The bark of laughter Steve lets out is a burst of pure adrenaline to Eddie's heart. This is going to be a disaster.

---

The night of the dinner arrives and Eddie almost blows the whole game when they walk in the Buckley front door and Steve's arm wraps around his waist. The night is all casually intimate touches and Steve leaning into his personal space; calling him "baby" in a soft, warm voice; eyes drifting to Eddie's lips as they flirt and banter.

It's almost like they're a couple; almost like Steve could love him.All of his senses are overwhelmed with Steve Harrington and it fucking hurts. But Eddie lets himself indulge, finally running his fingers through Steve's gorgeous hair, tracing the moles on his face and neck, outlining the sharpness of his perfect jaw, calling him "sweetheart" with heartbreaking fondness.

It's intoxicating.

They're helping Mrs. Buckley with the dishes when it happens. When Steve leans over and casually presses his lips to Eddie's, tasting like vanilla ice cream and spiced apples and something indefinably warm. Eddie is helpless not to crumple, leans into Steve, wraps fists into the perfectly fitted polo, drawing them closer.

The night ends and Eddie thinks he's finally free, except the Buckleys love them. Keep inviting them back.

He goes for Robin, he tells himself, but he knows that it's for the hope of it. Knows that he's a ship breaking himself against the rock that is Steve Harrington, and god help him, he can't stop.

---

Of course, of course, the wires get crossed. The kids have a pool party, leave Steve and Eddie to ice cream clean-up duty. Of course, he can't stop himself from smearing some melted mint chip down Steve's face, and Steve retaliates with chocolate sauce.

They giggle and flight and make mess until Steve's eyes are bright, cheeks red, and Eddie can't look away. He clocks Steve's eyes drifting to his mouth, is helpless as the distance between them closes, as Steve captures his lips.

It's not the brief, chaste things from the Buckley's; it's hot, all tongues and teeth and desire, and it's not fucking real.

Eddie lurches back, making Steve stumble. "Stop," he snarls.

"Eddie--" Steve's eyes are wide.

He's panting, can't catch his breath. "You can't just fucking kiss me like that when it doesn't mean anything to you."

"Please," Steve begs. "Let me explain."

"Save it. We're done with this. Robin is good now. And I'm out."

He turns away, heads towards the front door, but Steve pulls him back.

"Let me explain. Please. Please, Eddie. I didn't mean--"

And it's too much. Steve's plaintive voice, his big eyes wet with tears.

"Of course you didn't mean it," he spits. "It's nothing to you, pretending to date me. Touching me. Kissing me. Acting like you love me. It doesn't matter to the Heartthrob of Hawkins. But have you or Buckley ever taken the time to think that it's everything to me?" Hot tears spill down his cheeks and he can't even be embarrassed because all of this has been so humiliating.

Steve gapes at him, face slack and stunned. "Eddie, I--I'm so--"

"Don't. See you around, Harrington," he says. Then he runs.

---

He doesn't leave the trailer for a week. Refuses to pick up the phone.

It's Saturday, early evening. Wayne just left for his shift when there's a knock on the door.

Eddie is content to ignore it, to wrap himself in a quilt on the couch, but the knocking doesn't stop.

"Eddie, I know you're in there. Your van is here. The lights are on. I can hear you," Steve calls.

Longing clenches at his heart, but he's not in the mood for the gentle let down.

"Go away, Harrington." He starts towards his bedroom, thinking maybe he can lock Steve out.

"Please, Eddie."

"I don't need anything from you, Harrington."

It's silent for long enough that Eddie thinks it works. And then, " I have so many things I should tell you, Eds. If you still hate me at the end, I'll go. I'll never bother you again. But please, please listen."

Resigned to having a conversation he never wanted, Eddie opens the door. "Okay, Harrington."

Steve steps inside, twisting his hands for a few seconds before blurting out, "I've had a crush on you for months."

The confession briefly steals Eddie's breath from his lungs before he scoffs, "and you never said anything? C'mon, Harrington, when have you ever hesitated to ask someone out?"

Steve blinks a few times, before he answers. "I've been terrified to say anything because I didn't want to lose my best friend."

"And what, Robin asks us to pretend to date and you think that's the perfect time to make your move?" Eddie grips at his hair, pulling it in front of his face.

"Yeah, a little bit!" Steve raises his voice. "I tried but I was terrified you only wanted me as a friend."

"You know I'm gay, Harrington!"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Of course I wanted you!" Eddie's yelling now, has closed the distance between them so they're almost nose-to-nose.

"I didn't know! How could I? You could've said something!"

"I thought you were straight! Fucking look at you! You've slept with 75% of the available girls at Hawkins High!"

"Who cares about them, Eddie? I want you!"

"Funny way of showing it, Harrington."

"What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? Cause I am."

"Is that why you kissed me at your house? Making your move?"

"It wasn't supposed to be. I got--" Steve's throat bobs as he swallows. "Caught up in the moment. I know I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I know."

"Then why did you?" Eddie's voice breaks. "Why then? Why not any of the other nights we spent together?"

"Because that's when I realized that I'm fucking in love with you!" Steve shouts.

They're both breathing hard by the end, Steve's eyes too bright, face too flushed. They stare at each other, unmoving, Steve's confession ringing in his ears.

"You done?" Eddie's voice waivers, his heart pounding, stuttering, flipping in his chest.

Steve nods, but Eddie doesn't give him a chance to move. He brings their mouths crashing together, Steve not even hesitating to slip his tongue between Eddie's lips. They kiss hard enough that they draw blood, but that just makes it more frenzied. Eddie grips Steve's hip, presses him against the trailer door, grinding against him with abandon.

Eddie breaks the kiss to finally pay some attention to the delightful moles on Steve's neck, working his way up to his jaw. "I'm going to have so much fun taking you apart, sweetheart," he whispers, mouth pressed to Steve's ear, delighting in the way he shivers at the words.

[reysdriver]

Beautiful Boy | J.P.

James struggles to keep his cool when you go into labour — james x fem!reader fluff

warnings: reader giving birth (but not graphic or anything)

words: 1k

You laid on the bed in St. Mungos, James at your side. The potion a medi-witch gave you a few minutes ago was starting to kick in, and the pain was subsiding. You were warned that it wasn't going to help for the whole time, but you were only concerned about stopping the pain at that very moment. 

The same medi-witch checked your dilation, and her report disappointed you. "You're almost ready to have this baby. You've still got a few centimetres to go, maybe two or three. It's just a waiting game right now." 

You didn't want to wait. You wanted that baby out right away. 

"Why does she have to wait? Can't we speed this up somehow?" James asked. 

She shook her head. "The baby will come when her cervix is about ten centimetres dilated. Right now, she's only about seven or eight." She showed the measurements with her fingers, and James' face flushed. 

The witch then left, promising to come back and check up on you in a few minutes. 

"Love, I know I've told you nonstop how proud I am of you, but I really want to tell you again." James said to you. "I can't even imagine—" 

You didn't mean to cut him off, but another wave of pain crashed over you and it was impossible for a groan to have not escaped your lips. You squeezed his hand so hard you were sure you were passing the pain onto him. 

"Is that a contraction?"

"Yes, James." You said tearily. "When I make that noise and squeeze your hand every few minutes, it's because of contractions." 

He held your hand and breathed with you every time you had a contraction after that. 

You had healers coming in and out of your room every ten minutes or so, and after about an hour, finally one of them told you that you were ready to push.

Even though you had told your husband he didn't have to be in the room with you once you started active labour, he insisted on being right by your side. He should have listened to you, since it was obvious he was spiralling. He was asking a million questions, his eyes were wide and frightened, and it looked like he was going to pass out. 

You wanted to gently get him out of the room before he needed more medical attention than you. "Jamie, honey. Why don't you go get some ice to chew on? You love that. Or you could go update everyone on how we're doing?" 

He knew he was freaking out. Everyone in the room knew. He just really didn't want to leave you alone. "No, I'm fine. I'm great, love." 

One of the healers tried getting James out too. "Sir, you really don't want to be here for the worst part. Your wife will be very well taken care of under our care, you don't need to worry."

James looked to you with a guilty expression. He was torn between staying and leaving, so you assured him you were alright. 

He kissed you, quickly said how much he loves you, then reluctantly left the room. 

✦✧✦✧✦

You called James back in after it was all over. Your baby boy was in a bassinet next to the bed, and James' eyes started welling with tears the moment he saw you two. 

"Hi, Jamie." You said as he walked closer. 

He sat at the side of your bed and leaned down to kiss you gently but passionately. "I love you. I'm so proud of you." He told you in between light kisses scattered across your face. 

You smiled at both his praise and his touch. You could have sworn it was really helping to heal the pain. "Do you want to meet your son or are you just going to keep kissing me?"

His kisses stopped, but his hands remained holding your face as he let out a little laugh. "I wish I could do both." He looked back at the bassinet and let out a sigh. You nodded as a sign of encouragement, and he stood up and went over to your baby. 

He was half-asleep, so James was incredibly careful in picking him up. He held an arm under his little dark curls, and James noted all of his other features. Your eyes were passed down, but all of his other traits so far were from James. 

"Hello, my beautiful boy. I'm so excited you're here." 

You were surprised at James' soft tone. Usually, he was hyper and loud, and you had spent the majority of your pregnancy telling him off whenever he was talking to your baby bump and made a dirty joke. Now, he was speaking at a volume just above a whisper and it was adorable watching them. 

"Your mum and I have been waiting such a long time, but she's been through a lot more to get you here than I have. She's so strong, you're gonna love her just as much as she loves you already." 

Your husband looked over to you for a second, then looked back at the baby in his arms. 

"She's looking at you with the most adorable smile right now. She's probably watching 'cause she knows you're sleepy. Well, before you go to sleep, I just want to tell you that I love you, and I'm always going to be here for you, and I'll never let anything bad happen to you." 

James kissed him softly on the forehead as he lowered him into the bassinet again. He walked back to your bed and you let him lay down in the thin space beside you. He went back to peppering kisses on you, and you melted into his touch. 

"We should let him sleep for a little bit, then people can come in and meet him." You told your husband. 

He smiled. "The boys are outside flipping coins to decide who gets to see him first."

[iliaclwrites]

if you'd taken an arrow (and run it right through me)

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: five times you and Eddie pretended not to know each other + one time you didn’t.

“Isn’t that that cheerleader?” Mike asked, his voice the picture of innocence as he pointed you out, eyes trained on Eddie’s face. Dustin narrowed his eyes as Eddie made a big show of trying to follow Mike’s finger.

“I dunno, man,” Eddie said, scratching the back of his neck. “They all look like cheerleaders to me.”

warnings: cheerleading injury, underaged drinking, mentions of smut

Five times you and Eddie pretended not to know each other + one time you didn’t 

One. 

Eddie watched you at practice, sitting under the bleachers with his blunt in hand, timing his exhales for the tell-tale thuds of your landings. He watched the pairs of white Keds shuffle and squeak on the floors as practice ended, the different cheerleaders shuffling off to their changing rooms until only a few pairs of white cheer shoes remained. 

“Munson, what the hell?” asked his favourite voice in the world, and he practically preened as you pressed your sweaty face between the seats and flooring to look at him. “Don’t think you weren’t glaringly obvious, idiot. This whole place reeks of skunk.” 

The cheerleaders behind you tittered appreciatively, glad that their top flyer had made the bold move to chew Eddie Munson out. 

Eddie shrugged, shuffling so he could rest his elbows on the floor of the bleachers, inches away from you. “It’s not noticeable. This place smells like a Bed, Bath and Beyond, sweetheart. What is that, eau de letterman?” 

You huffed, pressing your hands to your hips. “As if you even know what perfume is, Munson.” 

“I do too.” 

“Then why don’t you ever use any?” you snapped. “You need it.” 

His eyes flashed. “Wanna sniff?” he asked, and before you could say anything he’d pulled your head in toward him, fingers flicking over the shell of your ear. Unheard to the cheerleaders, you sighed. “I missed you,” Eddie mumbled. 

“It’s this stupid championship game,” you mutter back. “I’ve got no damn time at all, Eds. It’s driving me crazy, I don’t even have time to study.” 

He tutted. “We can’t have that, can we, precious?” Eddie winked. “Late night session at mine?” He watched as you shook your head imperceptibly. “Yikes. You really do have to study, don’tcha?” 

“Let her go!” called one of the other cheerleaders, and you struggled out of his grip. “Freak.” 

You turned back around to them, and Eddie’s fingers snuck to toy with your palm still resting on the bleachers. You tangled your fingers together, contented sigh catching in your throat when he pressed his mouth to the pulse point at your wrist. “Hurry on back to me, babygirl,” he whispered, and you curled your fingers to stroke his cheekbone. 

“Get out of here before coach sees you,” you said loudly. “Don’t you have virgins to be sacrificing?” 

“Are you volunteering?” Eddie crowed, pretending to claw at you. “You’d look great in white robes. Swing by Hellfire at eight, we’ve got an altar that needs fresh blood on it.” 

You rolled your eyes, probably a little too fond to be convincing. “Whatever, freak. Girls? Let’s go.” 

Eddie sat back on his palms as he watched you walk away through the bleachers. You dropped a pom pom just before you went through the door, and bent over to pick it up, before pausing mid bend. Eddie scrambled to his feet, watching with total disbelief as you flipped your skirt up, just for him. The curve of your ass. The line of your legs. The mottled bruise of his handprint still stark against your skin. 

Eddie banged his fists against the bleachers. “Go Tigers!” he called, and you swung back around, dipping him a curtsy and flashing him eight fingers, promising you’d be by, studying be damned.

God, he was whipped. 

He loved it, though. 

Two. 

Eddie grinned maniacally. He’d been waiting in this goddamn line for what felt like hours now, watching you peck jocks, nerds, and band kids on the lips at the school fair kissing booth. Sure, it’d been tortuous, seeing his girl pucker up for just about every guy in the school, but when he saw your bored expression he lightened up a bit. 

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you’d whispered to Eddie in the lunch line, his knuckles brushing against yours on the tray. “I can pull out, you know. Say I’ve got, like, mono, or something. They’d replace me with Tammy, or Tracy, or someone.” 

“Have all cheerleaders got alliterative names?” Eddie had asked, before shrugging. “I know you’re mine, princess,” he added, helping himself to a bowl of pudding. “Besides. Who knows. Maybe I want a kiss, too.” He waggled his eyebrows at you, and it took everything in you to not slap at his chest fondly. “Are you not comfortable with it?” 

You’d frowned. “I dunno,” you muttered, tongue between your teeth as you adjusted the cutlery. “It’s not my idea of a good time, kissing other guys.” 

“Reassuring,” Eddie had teased, and huffed when you elbowed him. “Princess, really. It’s okay. Does this look like my ‘I’m freaking out’ face? No.” He grinned at you. “Might even be kinda hot. Seeing all these guys line up to lay one on ya when I’m the only one who takes you home.” 

You’d flushed. “Promise?” 

“Promise what?” 

“That you’ll take me home.” 

He glanced down at you, and grinned wolfishly. “Princess,” he murmured, picking up his tray. “I’m a man of my word.” 

So when Eddie found himself nearing the front of your line, he waved. You paused from where you were reapplying chapstick, eyes lighting up to see him, before carefully schooling your expression to wave over the next eager hopeful. Eddie nearly laughed at how quickly you kissed him, lips barely touching, as you eagerly cleared the queue to get him closer. 

“You know,” you whispered, watching him place two dollars into the overflowing mason jar in front of you, “if you waited a little while longer you wouldn’t have to pay.” 

He snorted. “What, and miss my chance to school these losers? As if.” 

Your brow furrowed, and Eddie resisted the urge to smooth it away. “School them in what?” 

“How to properly kiss a girl like you.” 

And with that, Eddie swooped down, kissing you soundly on the mouth. On instinct, your lips parted for him, hands going to his shoulders as his fingers curled around your chin. Eddie was rabid, desperately chasing away the taste of the other boys you’d kissed, chasing away your fear of getting caught, your nervousness about the new cheer routine, your arguments with your mother, all of it. He could take it. He was a big boy. You squeaked a little at how rough he was being, your arms winding around his neck as you lifted yourself up off of your chair to get closer, swallowing back a moan as Eddie’s tongue flashed to lick your teeth. 

“You like that?” Eddie whispered, but you pressed your lips back to his. He was insufferable when he was gloating. Eventually, as the chatter around you died down to watch what the everloving fuck was happening – Eddie and the school’s best flyer liplocked in the middle of the goddamn football field – you pulled away. 

“A girl like me, huh?” you whispered. “And what’s that?” 

He winked, fishing a five dollar note from his wallet and dropping it into the jar as he started to move away. “Oh, you know. Perfection. No biggie.” 

“If I give you seven bucks,” said a voice in front of you, and your attention snapped to the sophomore anxiously wringing his hands, “do I get a kiss like that too?” 

“Can it, shortstack,” Eddie heard you snap, and barked a laugh as he lit up a cigarette and vanished into the crowd. 

Three.  

“I was just– I uh, I thought this room was empty,” you babbled, staring down at the three children looking up at you accusingly. “I was going to study here. I had no idea you guys were going to be in here. At all. Sorry. I’ll just–” 

“It literally says Hellfire on the door,” Mike Wheeler said accusingly. “Can you not read?” 

You flushed. “No, I definitely can, I absolutely can read, I mean I’m a senior, right? Can’t get far in highschool if you can’t read. That’s a top tip from me. Learn how to read. It’ll help you go far.” You smiled nervously, head nodding up and down like a bobbleheaded doll. From the corner of your eye, you could see Eddie stuffing his fist into his mouth to smother a laugh. “A-anyway, now that I know that this room is occupied, I’d better go. Don’t want to interrupt your ritual sacrifice.” 

Over the kids’ heads Eddie mouthed at you, They showed up early. Sorry. You winced. 

“You’re that cheerleader, aren’t you?” said one of the kids, and you realised it was Sinclair from the basketball team. “The one that goes on the top of the pyramid thing. Andy’s girlfriend.” 

Eddie froze. 

You blinked, rearing your head to stare at Lucas. “No! No. I’m not Andy’s girlfriend. He’s just a friend. He’s on the team. I’m not dating him. At all. He gives some of the cheerleaders rides home because he’s got, like, a station wagon. It’s kinda shitty, though, it’s like from the ‘70s and has this yucky wood panelling effect. But, like, we have the sexual tension of a floppy biscuit. Also I think he’s gay. Maybe.” You stared at Eddie in a panic, willing him to calm down. “I don’t know about that, actually, but like. Yeah. Not dating him.” 

Eddie was very pointedly staring at you. You swallowed thickly. 

“O…kay,” Mike Wheeler said, turning to look at Eddie, who quickly wiped the thunderous expression from his face. He smiled at Mike beatifically, and the younger boy turned back to you curiously. 

“Are you going to leave?” asked Dustin, after a long moment. “Because we kind of have stuff to do.” 

Your brain snapped back into place. “Right. Yes. Sorry. Continue with your, uh,” you gestured at the table, “campaign. Good luck.” 

Eddie snorted. “Let me walk you to the door, princess. Lest ye stumble into any other satanic cults after school.” He got up from the throne and headed toward the door, you scurrying behind him meekly. 

(“How’d she know it was called a campaign?” Dustin muttered to Mike, who just shrugged.) 

Eddie walked through the door with you, and slammed you against it when it shut, echoing down the empty corridors with a resounding bang. “Andy, huh?” he muttered against your neck, pressing his mouth to the junction of your jaw. You whined, hands going into his hair. 

“Eddie,” you hissed, shoving at his shoulders. “I swear, the kid’s got his wires crossed. I took a ride home from Andy after the game, Sinclair must’ve seen, that’s all.” 

“Better be,” Eddie muttered darkly, too amused to be threatening, and kissed you hard enough that your head banged against the wood of the door. “Shit, sorry, princess,” he whispered, and cupped the back of your head, but you were too busy kissing him to care. His lean body was pressed up against yours, caging you in to the door with his arms, and you gasped into his mouth when he knee slid between your legs, rucking up the pleats of your cheer uniform. 

The door handle rattled. You felt the wood thump in its hinges, unable to open from the weight of both of you. You froze, staring up at him. Eddie kissed the corner of your mouth, and swiped at it with his thumb. 

“Meet me at mine,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours as you panted into his open mouth. “You can show me just how much you’re not dating Andy.” 

You started to smile, slowly, and nodded. 

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know,” he called after you, and you whipped around to shoot a fake finger gun at him. He threw himself back into the door, clutching at his heart, moaning loudly. “Murder! Help!” 

(“Did the door jam?” Lucas demanded when Eddie came back into the room. “I was trying to go pee.” 

Eddie shrugged. “Dunno, dude. Weird shit happens in Hellfire.”

Dustin watched Eddie, saying nothing.) 

Four. 

Lucas was wasted. It was his first ever party, and, having scored the winning basket at the game, he’d been plied with alcohol. Cruisers, shotgunned beers, half a glass of red wine, and something that looked like black tar from a solo cup had been shoved into his hands over the course of the first two hours, and he was stumbling around the Carver’s garden trying to find a peaceful place to lie down for a quick little nap. 

“Lucas?” a soft voice asked him, and his head whipped around, taking his whole body with him. “Whoa, whoa, steady there, cowboy,” you said, putting your hands on his shoulders to hold him upright. “Ooh, dear. You look like you’ve been at the Gaffer’s Home Brew, huh?” 

He nodded pathetically, loving the way the movement made the rhododendrons in the flowerbeds turn into blurs of blue and red. “I won,” he slurred, and you laughed prettily. 

“I know, honey,” you said, “I was there.” 

He squinted up at you, trying to place your features in the evening light. “You’re. You’re that cheerleader. That was at – hic! – that was at Hellfire.” He pointed a finger at you accusingly. “I couldn’t pee.” 

You blinked slowly. “Um. Sure,” you said. “That was me.” You peered down at him. “Lucas, honey, you don’t look so good.” 

He puffed his chest. “Nah, cheerleader. ‘m totally fine.” 

He vomited on your shoes. 

You sighed. 

After a solid fifteen minutes of coaxing and cooing, you managed to tumble Lucas into the front seat of your car, strapping the seatbelt across him. You fished around in the back seat for a moment, before finding a plastic shopping bag, emptying it out. Hairspray, trail bars, a pack of condoms, and a box of Honeycombs went across your floor, but you waved the bag at Lucas.

“You feel anything coming up,” you told him, “you aim in there. Capiche?” 

He hummed in agreement, resting his head on his hands. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, kid,” you said, and put the car into reverse. “I’m gonna take you to Eddie’s, okay? He’ll look after you tonight.” 

Lucas groaned. “He’s gonna think I’m not cool,” he whined, pulling a face. 

You had to laugh at that, placing one manicured finger on the stereo to turn the music up. The soothing voice of Paul McCartney filtered out, and you scratched Lucas’ head. “Don’t worry about that,” you murmured, starting the trip to Eddie’s trailer. “Winning a basketball game? Scoring free booze? Taking back a cheerleader?” she teased. “He’ll think that’s metal as all hell.” 

Lucas perked up at that, and nodded at you dreamily. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Metal. I’m metal.” He flashed you the ‘rock on’ sign, and you smothered a laugh, letting him babble softly to himself until you pulled into Eddie’s driveway. 

“I’ll admit,” Eddie said, opening the front door to his trailer to you and Lucas, your body bending under the kid’s weight, “when you told me you’d stop by after the party, this is absolutely not what I thought you meant.” 

“Shut up and help me,” you muttered, and Eddie took him from you, hauling him under the armpits into the trailer. “Jesus Christ, that kid’s heavier than he looks.” 

“Let’s not be sizeist,” Eddie tutted, and deposited Lucas on the couch. “The basketball team get to him?” he asked, watching as Lucas curled up on the scratchy fabric as though it were Cloud Nine itself. 

“I found him in the garden,” you admitted, and Eddie laughed, spinning you around in his arms. “Party was dead, though,” you murmured, keeping an eye on Lucas as Eddie nosed at your neck, hands wrapped around your midsection. “Chrissy had to leave early, which meant I was all on my own.” 

“Should’ve called me,” Eddie whispered, right under your ear, and you shuddered in his arms. “I’d have come get you.” 

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Called you from Jason Carver’s home phone, and lead you into the lion’s den?” you demanded, and you felt him shrug against you. “Sure, Eds. I definitely would’ve loved to have watch you get shanked.” 

Eddie laughed drily, and kissed corner of your mouth. “Come on, princess. Let’s put on a movie and make sure Sinclair doesn’t choke on his own vommy-voms.” Eddie moved to roll Lucas over onto his side, the safety position, and headed over to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. 

You found your eyes tracking him as he did so. His pyjama pants, stripey and cotton, slung low over his hips. His hair messy and uneven, proof that he absolutely was trying to cut it before you came over. He raised his eyebrows at you when he came back, balancing three waters in his hands. “See something you like?” he asked, quirking a hip, before swearing as one of the waters nearly dislodged.

“Just you, baby,” you said, rescuing his waters. “Just lookin’ at you.” 

He kissed your forehead, and shoved water into the half-asleep Lucas’ hands. “Drink this. Don’t die.” 

You fumbled onto the sofa with him, piled in his lap to give Lucas enough space to sleep. Eddie had placed a wastepaper basket under Lucas’ head, and a blanket around his shoulders, before wrapping you up in his arms to watch whatever nonsense was on TV at two in the morning. 

When Lucas woke up, they were still like that. He thought he might still be drunk, staring at how Eddie was lightly running his hand up and down your back, and you had your head pressed into his neck, breathing slowly. He could hear both of you talking, sentences punctuated with light kisses to your forehead, or your hand stretching out to toy with Eddie’s rings. You said something, and Eddie laughed, waving his hand in the air, before lowering it to tilt your head back and kiss you. 

Sleep pulled his eyelids down, and Lucas Sinclair went back to bed. 

(“How’d that cheerleader know where you live?” Lucas asked Eddie, once he’d woken up properly and was feasting on Eddie’s Honeycombs. Mike and Dustin had shown up to the trailer early in the morning, having been told by Steve that Lucas was camping out there after, apparently, getting totally wasted and taking home a cheerleader. 

“Huh?” Eddie asked dumbly, and raised his eyebrows. “Oh. I dunno. I get all sorts around here,” he said, waving his hand ineffectually. The movement sparked something in Lucas. Something he should’ve remembered. 

“Wait,” Dustin said, slamming his hands down on the kitchen counter. Lucas groaned, covering his ears. “So the cheerleader was real? You actually took home a cheerleader?” 

“The cheerleader took him here,” Eddie said. “She must’ve known it was too late for Sinclair to go home to mommy and daddy reeking of vomit, and like the Good Cheermaritan, took him to me.” Eddie grinned, and took another sip of his coffee. “You’re a lucky one, Sinclair.” 

Lucas wasn’t really listening. “It was that cheerleader, though,” he said slowly, staring down at his cereal. “The one that came to Hellfire that one time.” 

Mike paused. “The one that wouldn’t stop talking? About station wagons?” 

Eddie choked on his coffee, trying to smother a laugh. You’d hate the fact they’d remembered you by that of all things, and made a mental note to tell you tonight when you came back over. “Huh,” Eddie said finally. “Small world.” 

The boys looked at each other. Dustin sighed.) 

Five.

“Fuck,” you hissed as Eddie pulled your panties back over you, kissing the material once. You kicked at his shoulder from where you were perched on the green room counter, the back of your head still pressed against the sweaty mirror. “You’re going to kill me one day, Munson.” 

He grinned, crowding between your legs to nuzzle at the sweat at your neck. “Hope not,” he mumbled, running his teeth along your jaw. “Be a damn shame. Modelling agencies everywhere would weep.” 

You smacked at his chest, still out of breath, before reaching down to his belt. “Your turn,” you whispered, but he brushed your hand away. “Eds?” 

He flushed. “I, uh, kinda got carried away,” he admitted, biting his bottom lip. “There’s not much time until we go on.” 

You wrinkled your nose before grinning at him, flashing him your perfect cheerleader smile. “I like a challenge, Munson,” you teased, walking your fingers down his chest, before he caught them between his and brought them to his mouth for a kiss. 

“Begone, wench,” he laughed. “I swear, I’m not happy either,” he told you, and smoothed out the top of your hair, careful not to catch his rings. “Call it an I-O-U and I’ll collect once we’re done, okay?” 

You nodded, grinning at him. “I’ll charge interest, Munson.” 

He groaned despite himself, and shifted his weight. “You’re gonna kill me,” he complained. “I gotta go up onstage when this little minx,” he flicked one of your nipples, making you gasp, “is waiting for me in the audience. Why am I being test? Lord, I am not your strongest soldier.” He made prayer hands toward the ceiling, and you kissed the tips of his fingers. 

“Just think of me the whole time,” you said, and he wrapped his pinkie with yours in a promise. “A half hour set should be long enough for you to come up with a few ideas.” 

He snorted, and helped you off the counter. “Sweetheart, it’s less coming up with them and more working out which one I want to do more.” He patted you on the ass gestured to the door. “Go on. Vamoose!” 

You shuffled outside, legs still sore, and found your usual seat. Deano, the bartender, handed you your drink with a sigh. “One day, girlie,” he told you, “you’ll wake up and realise that his band is terrible.” 

You bit back a smile. “Not gonna happen, Deano. Any band my boy’s in will be the best band in the world.” 

He wrinkled his upper lip. “Kids.” 

“What’re you doing here?” 

You spun around to see Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin Buckley looking at you in confusion. Your mouth opened. Your mouth closed. 

“What are you doing here?” you shot back, and Steve shrugged, helping Nancy onto the seat next to you. 

“Dustin mentioned that this is where Eddie’s band plays,” Robin said. “We thought we’d pop by, in the area, etc. Are they any good?” 

Your mouth dries up. “I, uh. I wouldn’t know. I’m just here for the drinks.” 

You could feel Deano’s stare at the back of your head. You ignored it. 

Steve crowed suddenly, reaching out to you. “Are these hickeys?” he demanded, eyes wide with shock. “Well, I never!” 

“Steve!” Nancy hissed, slapping his hand away from you. “Don’t embarrass her.” 

“Yeah, Steve,” Robin added. “Douche.” 

You spun back around in your chair, training your eyes on the stage. Corroded Coffin were just coming out, Eddie catching your eye and winking before noticing Steve, Nancy and Robin. He blanched. 

“Whoo!” Steve called, waving his hands in the air. “Let’s go, Munson!” 

“Uh,” Eddie said, leaning into the mic. “Thanks, Harrington.” 

“No problemo, buddy!” 

Eddie swallowed, and you shook your head at him before flashing an inconspicuous thumbs up. He brightened at that, and went to plug in his amp, thumbing the strings of his Warlock. He slid quickly into the set, and you leaned over to Robin, who was recoiling from the sudden onslaught of sound. 

“Yikes,” Robin said. “I should’ve assumed Eddie played this kinda stuff, but, like. Yikes.” 

You chewed your lip. “I didn’t know you guys were friends,” you said softly, glancing up at where Eddie was parading about onstage. “You guys don’t hang out at school.” 

Robin shrugged. “We don’t. But Dustin goes to his D&D thing, and Steve’s tight with Dustin, and I’m tight with Steve, and Nancy– well.” Robin paused there. “So we thought we’d support the guy! He’s been really sweet with Dustin recently. Kid’s being a bit weird.” 

You frowned. “Dustin. The curly haired freshman?” 

“Ding ding!” Robin grinned at you. “Got it in one.” 

“How are you guys having a conversation over this noise?” Steve demanded, leaning in toward you. “It’s like construction.” 

You bit back a pout. Eddie had written this one for you. “You get used to it.” 

Nancy glanced at you. “Have you?” 

You look at her, confused. “Have I what?” 

“Have you gotten used to it?” 

You swallowed. “I mean. Over the course of this conversation. Yes.” You smiled shakily, and she hummed in response, turning back to her drink. “Will I see you guys at the game?” 

“The championship one?” Steve asked. “Oh, hell yeah. Lucas is playing, now that he’s officially part of the team and not just a bench warmer. Won’t miss that.” 

You blinked. “Are all of your friends children, Harrington?” 

Robin huffed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him.” 

When the set was over, instead of sneaking your way back into Eddie’s greenroom for a second round, you sat with Robin, Steve, and Nancy. Eddie jogged up to you, and paused a few metres away, transitioning to a walk and stopping right by Steve. 

“Hey. Didn’t know you guys were coming.”��

“We won’t again,” Steve said seriously. “Dude, are you trying to lose your hearing? That shit’s so loud.” 

You bit back a laugh on Eddie’s behalf, your spine ramrod straight and positioned away from him. From the corner of your eye, you could see his hand start to reach for you, before stopping, and falling back down. 

“Sorry,” Eddie said, not really meaning it. “You guys just aren’t cool enough to understand the real meaning of the music, I guess. It’s not really your scene.” He sniffed snootily. 

“Is it yours?” Nancy asked, looking over at you. Eddie froze. 

“Huh?” you asked, stopping mid-swallow of your drink. 

“Why are you here?” she pushed. God. You hated journalists. “Is this your scene?” 

Your brain flew into a panicked flurry. “Uh.” You could tell the truth. Say, no, it’s not, and deal with the questions. Or, you could – “Yeah! It is, actually.” 

Eddie choked down a surprised laugh. 

“Really?” Robin asked, leaning forward onto her elbows to look at you. “You don’t look like you listen to metal.” 

I don’t, your brain screamed, but you shot her a smile that you hoped bordered on confident. “Oh, I’m not all that I seem, Buckley,” you teased, and flipped your head over your shoulder. “I’m a true blue metal head. Dyed in the wool. Forever and ever, amen.” You shot her the ‘rock on’ fingers. 

“Favourite band?” Eddie asked, and you stared up at him. His eyes were dancing with amusement. 

“Uh,” you said again. “I love. Uh.” Shit shit shit. “Bowie?” 

Robin frowned. “Would we call him metal?” 

“And, uh.” You rack your brains. Eddie’s stereo. His cassette tapes. Shit fuck shit.  “WASP! They’re great. Really good band. Love what they do with guitars. They really know how to play a guitar. Sure can play ‘em. Really gets your blood pumping.” 

God, if Eddie wanted a blowjob after this, he’d better expect teeth. 

“Oh, no way!” Eddie cried, clapping his hands together happily. “They’re my favourite, too.” 

“I’ll kill you,” you hissed at him later, hiding in the back of his van as Robin, Steve and Nancy headed away, waving at Eddie in the driver’s seat as they went. “You’re dead, Munson. I’m going full cheerleader on you. I’ll highkick you into the moon.” 

Eddie turned around, and pressed a kiss to your nose. “You’re cute, princess,” he said, pulling you in for a proper kiss. “And, for the record, Bowie is my favourite metal band, too.” 

(“Eddie’s band is shit,” Steve reported to Dustin the next day at Family Video. “There was a crowd of like, five drunk people. And us. And that cheerleader. It was so loud I could feel my ears bleed. It sucked, dude.” 

“Wait,” Dustin said, looking up from where he was trying to pickpocket Aliens. “Cheerleader?”) 

+1 

“We ditched the last one,” Dustin explained, practically frogmarching Eddie to the front row of  the bleachers. “We can’t ditch again. Lucas might score the winning goal!” 

“Basket,” corrected Steve. “It’s a basket.” 

“Whatever,” Dustin shot back, and jumped excitedly on the bleachers. “I felt so bad, dude. Like, no offence, beating Vecna was everything, but it was Lucas’ big moment and we missed it! Least we can do is show.” 

Eddie huffed, crossing his arms as he sat back down. “Whatever, Henderson,” he said, staring out at the hall. On one side of the room, the coach was lecturing the basketballers about something, and Lucas glanced up for a second to notice them all. His face split into a wide grin, and Eddie bit back a smile. Okay. That might make it worth it. 

His breath caught as he saw you stretching on the sidelines, body twisted into a Russian split. Scratch that. Now it was definitely worth it. He saw your eyebrows furrow as you rehearsed your routine in that position, moving your hands up and down, and he remembered how you were doing that in his garden yesterday evening, desperate to lock everything down. 

God, he was so soft for you. 

Despite sneaking around for, oh, maybe six months now, Eddie had yet to ever see you at practice. Sure, he’d seen your shoes slide around while he was hiding under the bleachers, or he’d willingly hold one leg up for you as you pulled yourself into a bow and arrow stretch, but the whole routine? No. 

“Isn’t that that cheerleader?” Mike asked, his voice the picture of innocence as he pointed you out, eyes trained on Eddie’s face. Dustin narrowed his eyes as Eddie made a big show of trying to follow Mike’s finger.

“I dunno, man,” Eddie said, scratching the back of his neck. “They all look like cheerleaders to me.” 

He missed the unimpressed looks that Steve, Dustin, and Mike shot each other over the back of his head. Eddie watched as you leaned over in your split to tie your shoelace before springing up, shaking your hands out and rolling your head on your neck. You said something to the rest of the team, and picked up your pom poms. 

The whistle blew. 

Eddie froze as you tore into action, racing out to the front of the gym. He saw you nearly trip as you went by him, freezing at the mop of his curly hair. 

Go Tigers! he mouthed, and you bit back a smile. 

“Oh, what the fuck,” Eddie said flatly, watching as you catapulted yourself into a tumble across the stage, springing up from a one-handed cartwheel and a roundoff. “They can do that?” 

(“He’s definitely not dating her,” Dustin muttered to Mike.) 

“Oh, what the fuck?!” Eddie said again, watching as two cheerleaders grabbed you by the waist and tossed you across the hall, only to be caught again by another two girls. You broke into a pose, the same bow and arrow one he’d helped you out with in his bedroom, and he sucked air in noisily through his teeth. 

“Oh, what the–” 

“What the fuck, dude, we get it,” Steve finished for him drily, as Eddie stared at you being literally thrown onto a pile of cheerleaders, grinning happily at the auditorium from your position in the literal heavens as you shouted, go Tigers! 

Time seemed to slow down for Eddie, watching as you tossed your head back and posed. This was his girl. This was his girl. He smiled at you, wider than he ever thought smiles could go, shook his head proudly. 

You tumbled from the pyramid, eyes wild. 

Time stopped.

That was his girl. 

One of the hands around your ankle had loosened infinitesimally, and you lurched, pitching sideways off of the pyramid. Jodie Nelson’s knee had given way under the weight, and a small part of you whispered, she should’ve warmed up more, before you landed heavily against the floor of the gym. Your hand crunched as you tried to soften your landing, wrist giving way, and you screamed on the impact. 

“Ah, shit, fuck, shit.” 

You were trying to push yourself up hazily, wrist limp, when a pair of warm hands came and grabbed your face. 

“Princess? Fuck, princess, Jesus Christ, are you okay?” Eddie demanded, swiping the tears from your eyes as you stared at him blearily. “Princess, come on, work with me here.” 

“Eddie?” you said stupidly, and he grinned at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. “Wrist,” you said lamely, before the coach managed to break through the throng of cheerleaders toward you. “Oh. Sorry, coach,” you said. “Wrist.” 

“We got that, princess,” Eddie muttered, and you sniffled, burying your head in his shoulder as he scooped you up. “Right. Coach. I’m. Uh.” He froze. He remembered where he was. He saw the crowd, and the cheerleaders, and Dustin staring at him. 

“Eddie,” you whimpered, and his resolve steeled. 

“I’m her boyfriend. So, if you could point me to the nearest, uh, hospital. That’d be really cool.” 

(“Five bucks,” Dustin hissed, holding a hand out. 

“Dude,” Steve said, watching as Eddie the Freak carried his cheerleader girlfriend out of the sports hall, “a little compassion?” 

Dustin shrugged, and pocketed Steve’s cash.) 

[cosmicluvcore]

To be human part 1

Rottmnt Leo x reader, gender-neutral, friends to lovers, jealous Leo

Summary: Leo has the biggest crush on you, but he's afraid that you'd never date a mutant, so with the help of a cloaking brooch, he plans to become your perfect human boyfriend!

Part 2 here

☆

Okay I have to be honest. I saw someone with this idea, but I have no clue where it came from originally. If you know who I should credit, please tell me!!

Anyways, this concept gave me way too many ideas hope you enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leo wasn't great at dealing with his feelings.

He'd been crushing on Y/N for far too long, the terrapin couldn't even remember when the whole thing started.

A few loving glances and a flirty joke or two had suddenly burst into the thought of Y/N keeping him up at night. He wasn't great at hiding it either, blushing like an idiot when they smiled his way.

Leo knew he needed to tell them sooner or later, but he hadn't worked up the courage yet. A part of him hoped they secretly felt the same way and would confess to him, but there'd been no sign of that happening anytime soon. Leo wanted to confess, he really did, but... what if they didn't feel the same way? What if it made their friendship weird? What if he looked like an idiot? What if they never wanted to speak to him again?!

There were just too many 'what ifs' for his liking.

So Leo had decided to take the easy way out, hoping that Y/N would just see how great he was, then he wouldn't have to deal with any uncomfortable conversations. He started going out of his way to impress them, saving them on missions, being overly nice, letting them win in video games, giving them his last pizza slice, (which is very valuable by the way!)

Not that he'd ever admit it, but Leo had spent an embarrassingly long time researching 'how to get your crush to like you back'.

He'd bought a cologne for Pete's sake! But no matter what he did, they never seemed to notice.

~

It was a ordinary evening. Leo and the others sat in the projector room watching a movie. Raph, Mikey and Y/N were sitting comfortably on the floor surrounded by blankets and pillows. Meanwhile, Donnie and Leo took the couch, popcorn in their hands. They were watching some random action movie. Leo wasn't really paying attention.

He was more focused on Y/N.

Y/N had started fawning over the male love interest and that began to spark a little- scratch that, a LOT of jealously in Leo's heart. Every scene that guy appeared in they were freaking out, gushing over him like he was the best thing since sliced bread.

The blue-masked turtle scoffed to himself as the character appeared again, narrowing his eyes at the screen.

What was so great about this guy anyway?

Leo was twice as charming as him, he was the one with good looks, great one-liners and clearly the best ninja skills. This guy barely spoke a word and Y/N was blushing like crazy. But as he kept watching the film, something clicked in his mind.

He was human.

That's something Leo could never beat. Sure, 'biologically' he was part human, but he didn't exactly look like it. The turtle shifted a little in his seat, the uncomfortable feeling of insecurity settling in.

"Leo? Are you good?" Donnie asked, snapping him out of his thoughts for a moment.

"Me? Yeah, I'm great," Leo replied quickly, glancing away from his brother's gaze,

"It's just that this movie sucks, never letting Raph choose again!" He lied, that playful smirk returning to his face as he saw his eldest brother's reaction.

"Hey!" Raph called out from afar.

As the movie continued, Leo sighed deeply and took another handful of popcorn, chewing the kernels absentmindedly and leaning back in his seat. Was that really why Y/N wasn't interested in him? Because he wasn't human? There wasn't much he could do about that, it's not like there was just some magic spell that could-

Leo's face lit up as an idea popped into his mind, cloaking brooches. Yokai used them, April's slime friend had one, so they must be easy to find. Leo's mind started spinning with possibilities. If he could get his hands on a cloaking brooch, he could be human and finally get Y/N's attention! But, where would he get one?

~

For once, Leo was distracted as Y/N entered his room. Usually he'd be all over them chatting up a storm, but he was sitting on his bed glancing away from them.

"Leo?" They asked softly, watching as the turtle was startled by the interruption.

"Hey, what's with the jump scares?" Leo joked with a playful chuckle,

"I thought we were friends." He said in mock offense, leaning onto his back and over-dramatically draping his hand over himself.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his shenanigans, "I just came to check on you drama queen, you're being weirdly quiet today."

Leo blinked at their observation. Jeeze, was he that obvious?

"Ohh well you know, I was just thinking about Raphs' riveting movie choice tonight." He replied casually, quick to make up an excuse.

I mean, technically, it wasn't a lie he had been thinking about the film.

Y/N rolled their eyes at that, "You're just salty it wasn't your choice tonight, besides that movie wasn't so bad." They replied, calmly leaning against the door frame.

"Ooh really? You're just saying that because you were all over the male lead," He retorted, grinning smugly as he watched their cheeks flush, "You, my friend, are biased."

"Well- Can you blame me? That guy was a total stud." Y/N blurted out defensively.

"He was alright, I guess. Just totally not as hot as the real stud in the room." He said with a cocky smirk as he gestured towards himself.

Y/N let out a laugh at that.

Normally, Leo wouldn't take such a tiny thing to heart, but his ego took a hit from the way Y/N laughed at him. He was the type to eagerly take any opporunity to see them smile, but this time it felt like they were laughing at him. Scoffing at just the thought of him being attractive to them, it was this newfound level of insecurity that he didn't know how to handle.

"Alright Leo, seems like you're biased too." They said with a chuckle.

"I simply speak the truth." He shrugged in reply, trying to ignore the painful realization.

Thankfully, Y/N didn't seem to notice, "Well, I'm heading home. I'll see you around."

"I'll see you." Leo smiled, waving as he watched them go.

After the coast was clear, Leo let out a long annoyed sign. He leaned onto his back, letting the soft cushion of his bed comfort him as insecurities began to plague his mind.

He needed a cloaking brooch.

[verysium]

I’ve been seeing some discourse around twitter about the blue lock boys and whether they’d be a loyal bf or not 😭 Curious to know who do you think would be more inclined to cheat or who just wouldn’t at all!!!

I saw someone say sae would 100% cheat like whattt I feel like he wouldn’t even bother looking at anyone else if he already has someone (Cuz I mean dating him would likely mean you actually mean something to him) but I digress

ok anon you had me pulling up a whole argumentative essay here cus WHO TF SAID SAE WOULD 100% CHEAT??? 😔 that mischaracterization is so painfully inaccurate. twitter really took the whole emotionally unavailable itoshi archetype and ran with it. let me just clear the air here because my man deserves some explanation.

sae itoshi would not cheat. as in capital N and capital O. he took nearly an entire decade off his life just to work on his own issues and finally form a functional and healthy relationship with another human being. and you're telling me he's just going to let all that wash down the drain for someone else? 😒 twitter logic really be showing its illogical side here. apparently a man can be loyal to a professional sports career for eighteen years, but he can't be loyal to his significant other.

i think this misunderstanding probably happened cus of shidou. people read the manga and saw that sae dropped rin for a bug-eyed freak and automatically assumed he was disloyal. 😑 let me just say two things here:

(1) sae and shidou's relationship is strictly professional. imagine being stuck in an god awful corporate office with coworkers who bore you with their weaponized incompetence and a boss who annoys the living shit out of you. and then one day, the company hires a new recruit who is probably the most unhinged and debauched creature known to man. you're probably left wondering how he even got hired in the first place. but then you find out...he's useful. he takes risks and gets a high return on what he invests. it's impulsive and stupid, really. but at least it's unconventional and outside-the-box. he has your interest piqued. that's basically sae and shidou in a nutshell.

(2) just because sae gave shidou his number after the u-20 game does NOT mean he would do the same to any other person who would try to encroach on your relationship. and let's be real here. sae would get one text from shidou and block his contact.

anyways, here is my analysis on the bllk boys in general. introducing the anti-cheating to pro-cheating spectrum:

(A) cannot cheat under any circumstance (as in they already hate the fact that they live on a planet with 8.1 billion other people who are not you):

itoshi brothers (atp they don't even have the physical or mental capacity to entertain a third party), ness, reo

(B) cannot cheat due to physical incapability (literally cannot pull anyone within a five-meter radius to cheat with):

ego, igarashi, raichi, bachira (not that he's in any way unattractive...it's just...i feel like he would purposefully act weird to drive off people who aren't you)

(C) could not cheat (basically option A and B but less problematic version)

yukimiya, barou, kunigami, noa, loki, gagamaru, chigiri, niko, hiori, karasu (baby boy literally felt inferior cus his crush was the cutest in his class), kurona (head empty, just you)

(D) would not cheat (on you but everyone else is not included)

isagi (unintentionally a homewrecker to others but would never let anyone homewreck his relationship with you), leonardo (idk why but i just don't trust him entirely)

(E) could cheat (depends on what they get out of it):

kaiser, shidou (honestly what did you expect when you willingly dated a blonde man...)

(F) would cheat (either proven by canon or they accidentally fucked up somehow):

otoya, oliver, nagi

[gureumz]

not my thing

like a freak, like a g [installment 3]

rating: explicit

member: sunoo, jake

premise: he might be the director of communications and relations, but he wants no part in this relation. unless you can convince him. or maybe it takes two to get the job done?

notes: fem!reader, greek life!au, university!au, sunjake threesome, dom!sunjake, dirty talk, slight degradation, blowjobs, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism and voyeurism

a/n: third installment of the 'sleeping around the frat house' series! more drama! unresolved drama! this is a threesome i haven't seen discussed here yet so i wanted to explore it. mc is halfway through the executive committee so she gets a silver star for now lol but anyways please enjoy! *divider by cafekitsune

"i think we need to lay some ground rules."

jake is pacing his room, chin between his pointer finger and thumb, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. you're sitting cross-legged on his bed, hands nervously fidgeting with your sweater.

it's been a few days since the party, the one that led you straight into heeseung's arms and bed. you managed to evade jake the morning after, dashing out the door at barely seven in the morning, sparing heeseung a quick kiss and allowing him a brief grope before you made your escape.

you threw yourself into your university duties after that, (mostly) ignoring jake's texts and pleas for you to come over. what is he even groveling about? it was him who sprung up this arrangement, so it made no sense to you why he's suddenly acting all clingy.

but eventually, you had to give in.

'come over, please? i'll drive around the whole campus if i need to just so i can find you,' jake had texted a few hours ago.

with a sigh, you replied: 'stalker. be at the house in fifteen.'

"what ground rules?" you ask, finally meeting jake's gaze at present. you've avoided looking directly at him since you entered his room a few minutes ago.

jake's eyebrows crease together even more. he walks right up to you, staring down at your confused face.

"for whatever this whole thing is," jake says, gesturing wildly around with his hands.

"you'll have to be more specific than that," you retaliate, pushing yourself off his bed. you rise to your full height and despite being a ways shorter than jake, you square your shoulders, raising a brow at him.

"we need to talk about this game you're playing with my brothers," jake explains, the cadence of his voice slowing down as if recounting something to someone significantly younger than him.

"you know, the one where you try to fuck all of them, one by one?"

"huh," you huff indignantly, tongue poking at your cheek.

"if i remember correctly, you were all for it when you brought it up," you say, mildly accusatory.

jake rubs at his forehead, turning away from you. "i know! it's just..."

jake hangs his head low for a few moments, falling completely silent. your own annoyance ebbs away after a while of him just standing there, giving way to a hint of sympathy. maybe this whole thing was stupid. maybe jake is right to be jealous.

did he have the right, though?

technically...you're not sure.

"i just need some time," jake says with an air of finality. he quickly exits through his door without so much as a glance at you, sending you scrambling after him.

"jake, wait—"

"don't follow me!" jake calls out as he practically thunders down the stairs.

you halt right at the banister overlooking the living room and the front door, the same one you and jake drunkenly (kind of) confessed your attraction to each other. annoyance quickly rises in you as you watch the front door of the house slam shut. you can't help the frustrated noise that escapes you.

you walk over to the top of the stairs, fully intending to follow jake but someone at the bottom landing makes you stop in your tracks.

"hi."

another one of jake's frat brothers stands there, hands in his pockets as he looks up at you. he's wearing a plain black shirt and jeans. you notice that he's leaner compared to the others's bulkier builds, but he has the same handsome features, nonetheless, if not a little softer.

he glances back at the front door where jake had just stormed out seconds ago before returning his attention to you.

"i don't suppose you know where he's going?" you ask in exasperation.

the man shakes his head with a soft laugh. "even if i did, brotherhood compels me to act in jake's best interest."

"well, it's in his best interest to talk to me," you say with a roll of your eyes as you descend the stairs.

"clearly," the frat brother says, watching as you slowly approach where he stands. "it seems like he has a habit of not telling you where he's going, which then ends in you walking around in here asking if anyone knows where he went off to."

you stop two steps above the man. "that is eerily accurate," you say, eyes narrowing.

the man shrugs. "hey, news travels fast here."

you're hit with a wave of deja vu as he grins up at you.

"was that about...," he continues, glancing back at the front door. "your thing?"

"my thing?" you ask, confused.

"your mission to sleep with the entire executive committee."

you smile coyly, walking down the remaining steps and brushing past him. he smells strongly of citrus and fresh laundry and you almost stop just so you can take in more of his scent.

"you could say that," you respond, turning back to him.

the frat brother nods understandingly. you realize with a start that you don't even know his name.

"sorry, i don't think we've met before," you say, reaching your hand out.

the other man smiles. "i'm sunoo."

"________."

"i know," sunoo points out with a playful smirk.

"of course you do," you mutter under your breath.

sunoo chuckles, walking over to the sofa. he pats the space beside him as he plops down. you reluctantly follow, still half wanting to go look for jake.

as if hearing your thoughts, sunoo speaks up.

"look, i'm not gonna sugarcoat things and say that all will be well with jake," sunoo begins.

"you do know he talks to other girls on the side, right?"

you feel your stomach flip uncomfortably at those words. you allow yourself to sit beside sunoo, folding your legs beneath you.

"i...suspected it," you admit as you bite your lip, gaze averting to the side. "but it's not like we're exclusive or anything."

sunoo nods, observing your face.

"and are you okay with that setup?" sunoo questions.

you shrug. "i was. well, i still am. not quite sure where he stands on the matter."

"he totally freaked out on me when he heard i..," you clear your throat. "slept with heeseung."

sunoo grins sheepishly at this. "that may have been my fault. i told him about you and heeseung that night."

you raise a brow at sunoo but ultimately wave a dismissive hand his way.

"don't feel bad about it. he was gonna find out, either way. it's not like i was going to keep it a secret," you conclude.

"still, i'm sorry," sunoo apologizes. "being the director of communications and relations, sometimes my mouth has a mind of its own."

your ears perk up. director of communications and relations?

you're seriously starting to question your morals at this point. jake is out there, doing god knows what at god knows where, having stormed out after the two of you fought over you sleeping with his frat brother.

and yet here you are, thinking about fucking another one.

well, it was jake's idea, anyway.

your eyes swiftly glance over sunoo's figure, relaxed and lazily leaning back against the couch. he catches your eye just as your gaze returns to his face.

"so, what exactly do you do as director of communications?" you ask casually, resting your head against your hand as your elbow perches on the back of the couch.

"draft and proofread letters sent out to the school, other frats, and sororities, handle internal announcements, manage the social media, all that fun stuff," sunoo explains, counting off on his slender, perfectly tapered fingers.

"the frat's tiktok is really taking off, thanks to me," sunoo says proudly. he beams at you and you can't help but smile back.

"oh, you're the one posting thirst traps of the other members on the frat account?" you ask, shifting your weight to face sunoo fully.

he nods, shrugging nonchalantly.

"the likes and comments come flooding in," sunoo declares.

"i don't think i've seen an entry from you," you challenge with a raise of your brow.

sunoo scoffs, shaking his head. "i'm just the guy behind the camera. i'm better at thinking of witty captions than posing half-naked for the whole university and beyond to ogle at."

"i doubt that," you say delicately, subtly knocking your knees against sunoo's.

sunoo pauses, jaw unhinging slightly. a flash of realization washes over his face.

"you're a sly one, aren't you?" sunoo accuses lightheartedly. "don't tell me you're thinking of...it with me. really? while jake is out there sulking around?"

you scoff, eyes rolling. "he can sulk all he wants. in fact, he can go cry to one of his other girls."

sunoo seems dumbfounded, not even trying to hide his utter surprise and mild confusion. he sits up straight, bottom lip slipping beneath his teeth as he lets his eyes wander down your form.

"i'm not...casual hookups aren't really my thing," sunoo admits, voice softer and seemingly unsure.

"i'm not forcing you to do anything," you respond, holding your hands up. "you can always say no."

sunoo fidgets, his leg bouncing up and down. he eyes you warily but you can see a flicker of curiosity in his irises. something else is present in the way he looks at you. sunoo's eyes seem to sharpen before you, rendering him akin to a fox observing its prey.

men are so easy.

"but it doesn't mean i haven't thought about it before," sunoo informs quietly.

you smile, laying a hand on his knee.

"since you're the director of communications and relations, why don't you just communicate with me? let me know when to stop," you instruct, inching your way up sunoo's thigh. he stiffens and you pause, eyeing him cautiously.

sunoo remains still. you resume your movements, squeezing along the way. his breath hitches but he doesn't say anything to stop you. the tips of your fingers brush just below his crotch area and you look straight at sunoo, silently asking.

"one last chance to back away," you say.

sunoo gulps.

"go on," he whispers.

you cup sunoo through his jeans and he sighs, head thrown back. he adjusts himself, spreading his legs wider as his arms come to rest on the back of the couch.

before you can second guess yourself, you lean forward, catching sunoo by surprise as you kiss him square on the lips. his hand darts up to hold your face steady. you swing a leg over sunoo's sprawled out figure and his other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you down onto himself.

you part from him briefly, lips slick with spit. sunoo's eyes are wide yet something dark lurks within. he rolls his hips up and you gasp, planting your hands firmly on his shoulders. you retaliate by pressing down on sunoo's crotch and you both moan, the friction sending heat up your body.

sunoo leans in, lips gliding up your neck. "there are cameras in the living room."

you glance up, scanning the corners until your eyes finally land on a white surveillance device on the right side of the room.

"who handles the footage?" you whisper, a soft groan following shortly as sunoo nips just below your ear.

"heeseung."

you smile, leaning your head further away so sunoo can continue on your neck.

"i'm sure we can work something out with him," you say, fingers toying with the hair near sunoo's nape.

the sound of the front door unlocking reaches your ears too late. you turn to see jake standing in the doorway, expression unreadable as he takes in the scene in front of him.

jake's face goes slack as he rolls his eyes, a bitter laugh escaping him.

"can't say i'm surprised," jake muses, kicking the door closed behind him and locking it.

you make a move to slide off sunoo's lap but jake holds a hand out.

"oh, please, don't let me interrupt," jake hurriedly says. a wicked grin takes over his features.

"in fact, pretend i'm not even here."

jake saunters over to the single sofa chair opposite the big couch. you follow him with your eyes as he plops down, clasping his hands over his stomach as if settling down to watch his favorite show on the tv.

sunoo shifts uncomfortably beneath you, hands gripping your thighs on either side of him.

"jake—"

"i said," jake presses on. you can see the way he eyes both you and sunoo darkly.

"continue."

"j-jake, if you don't want us to—," sunoo chimes in.

"if you're gonna fuck her, i wanna see it," jake cuts sunoo off.

you swallow, turning back to sunoo. he looks back at you, chest rising and falling rapidly. you feel him twitch between your legs and you bite at your lip.

"fuck," sunoo mutters softly before surging forward, enveloping your lips in his. you squeak in surprise, fingers tangling in sunoo's hair once more.

so, you're really doing this.

"suck me off," sunoo whispers, though his tone is commanding. his eyes flick behind you momentarily but his face is hardened in determination.

you stumble off sunoo's lap, helping him undo and tug his jeans down. you can feel jake's gaze burning through the back of your head but not a sound comes from the older. you dare not look behind you.

sunoo discards of his underwear too, letting his cock spring free. you take his length in your hand, circling the base with your fingers. you gather spit in your mouth, letting a drop fall from your lips down to sunoo's tip. he hisses, cradling your face as you lick a long stripe up his shaft.

you take nearly all of sunoo on your first pass down, lips stretched around his girth, more saliva building up in your mouth. you swirl your tongue as you come back up and sunoo curses loudly.

a clatter sounding suspiciously like a belt hitting the flour resounds from behind you but you focus on the task at hand. you bob your head up and down in a steady rhythm, pussy clenching down around nothing as you listen to the sound of sunoo's moans, reverberating deep in his chest.

"fuck, you're so good," sunoo praises, eyes focused on you. you peer up at him through your lashes and sunoo's eyes roll into the back of his head.

"ah!" he moans out as your teeth graze ever so slightly around him.

a sound between a gasp and a whine escapes you as you feel your scalp sting, your lips abruptly pulled off of sunoo's aching cock. you reach up, feeling sunoo's hand tangled in your hair. he's looking at you, pupils blown wide. sunoo pulls your head back even farther. you let out a strangled moan.

"face him," sunoo commands, turning to jake behind you. you finally allow yourself too look and you're met with jake, his own dick in his fist, pumping languidly as he watches the two of you.

"take off your pants then get on my lap," sunoo continues. you obey, standing on shaky legs. you shimmy out of your pants and underwear, kicking them to the side. sunoo's hands find their way to your hips as you face jake, the younger pulling you back down.

you feel sunoo's stiffness between your legs, the head of his cock rubbing lightly against your folds.

"put it in," sunoo whispers, planting a brief kiss on your shoulder. you reach down, aligning sunoo with your aching hole. you ease yourself over him, mouth falling open as he easily slips inside you.

sunoo leans back against the couch, hands still firm on your hips.

"well?" jake speaks up all of a sudden.

"ride him."

you plant your feet on the ground beneath you, hands clutching at sunoo's arms that are holding you from behind. you bite your lip, eyebrows creased in concentration as you start to move on sunoo's cock.

you keep your gaze on jake as he speeds up on his own dick, eyes hungrily taking in the obscene view in front of him. your tits bounce about beneath your tight shirt and to say that you looked absolutely debauched would be an understatement.

your heart quickens when you see jake rise from his seat, discarding of his own bottoms before making his way towards you. his cock is stiff, the tip an angry red and leaking precum. your mouth waters as jake gets closer.

"since you want it all," jake begins, a large hand grasping at your chin. "i'm sure you have no problem multitasking."

jake pushes the head of his cock to your lips and you still momentarily on sunoo. you let jake push his length into your warm mouth, flinching when you feel him reach the back of your throat.

"fuck, yeah," jake breathes. "you really are a cockhungry slut."

you whine in protest but you're cut off by sunoo landing a hard smack on your ass from behind you.

"keep moving," sunoo says through gritted teeth, his hold on your hips tightening as he maneuvers you over his dick.

you feel tears prickle at your eyes as jake takes ahold of your hair. he starts to fuck your mouth, shaking his head in disappointment.

"guess you can't take two at the same time, after all," jake comments, voice tinged with annoyance.

you start to grind down on sunoo, focusing on letting him reach deep inside you. a muffled sob escapes you as you feel sunoo hit that spot within your walls and he, in turn, groans as he feels you clench around him.

your head is spinning, with jake filling up your mouth and sunoo sheathed fully in you. your whole body seems to ignite, the feeling of having jake and sunoo at the same time nearly overwhelming you.

jake pulls you off of him, his fist moving furiously over the length of his cock. you sniffle, the tears now cascading down your cheeks. you look up pleadingly at jake while your hips rut furiously, trying to reach your own orgasm.

"open," jake commands, voice gruff with effort. you obey, letting your tongue hang out. you're panting, too, your fingers reaching down to circle around your clit while you squirm and swivel on sunoo.

"god, you're like a dumb puppy begging for cum," jake comments with a snicker, hand returning around your chin as he holds you in place.

"make him cum or i'm not giving it to you," jake says, hand stopping around his shaft.

you whine pathetically, speeding up even more on sunoo's lap.

"shit," sunoo curses behind you. "yeah, just like that, oh fuck!"

you feel sunoo twitch inside you, finishing and painting your walls with his cum. you squeeze your eyes shut, fingers pressing down desperately on your clit while you grind down on sunoo's sensitive cock. you hear him protest but you ignore it in lieu of your own release.

"that's right. good girl," jake coos. "come on, sweetheart, cum with me."

with your tongue still out, you sob as your body seizes up, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. you feel warm spurts of cum land over your face as jake finishes shortly after, a satisfied groan leaving you as you taste jake in your mouth.

you crack an eye open, the other partially covered in jake's spunk. everything is silent for a moment as the two men catch their breath. you carefully dab away at your face with the back of your hand, the sting in the back of your throat and between your legs finally catching up with you.

"________," sunoo says weakly. "please get off. my dick can't take another second of you clenching around it."

you giggle tiredly, letting jake help you pull off sunoo.

jake leans in to kiss your cheek. "that was so hot."

"yeah, yeah," you say, rolling your eyes playfully. "let's get out of here before someone comes in and turns this into a foursome."

---

"this can't be fucking real," heeseung mutters under his breath as he rewinds the video on his phone screen. the home surveillance app is pulled up, showing him the footage from the last twenty-four hours.

the audio is nonexistent but the image is clear as day: you bouncing on sunoo's cock while jake jerks off right across from you.

"this girl..." heeseung says before laughing silently to himself.

"what girl?"

heeseung turns away from his phone to see sunghoon entering the kitchen. his neck glistens with sweat, evidence that he'd just come up from the den where the gym equipment are.

heeseung shuts his phone down.

"you'll meet her soon enough."

[inknopewetrust]

oh, baby.

Summary: You and Eddie raise a baby… however, you’re not a couple and the baby isn’t real. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader [WC: 7k ] Warnings: takes place at the beginning of season 2, language. Quick Links: Masterlist

"And this," Mr. Allen walked up and down each row with the most serious face. Everyone else, all the students, were plagued with potential trauma at the preface of the assignment; "this is your only priority for the next week—including this weekend and the next."

You felt a cool breeze waft as he walked past your desk, continuing on forward as Steve Harrington audibly protested his instruction. The supposed "King of Hawkins High" wasn't impressed with having to take care of a child… well, a plastic one at that.

"Mr. Allen," he began from his spot in the second row from the door. All you could see was the brown poof of hair that he had become notable for. "I don't see why we can't just start this on Monday. We've got plans… there's a football game tonight!"

There were a few agreeing hums, mostly from the said football players in the room, but it wasn't as though they would be taking part in the assignment when they were on the field. Their partners would be left alone to deal with an unpredictable toy while they tossed pigskin for three hours for fun.

"And besides," Steve continued as Mr. Allen walked back to the front of the room, setting the baby down on his desk and grabbing two plastic bowls he had scavenged from home, "Halloween is next weekend! I bet we all already have plans…"

Steve turned around in his seat and looked around the room. He saw his peers watching him carefully, some in support and others in vague concern that he would get them in further conflict by having the task take up the whole month instead of a week and a half. He glanced over you hoping that being Nancy's childhood friend would spur a call within you to support him but alas, you would not give him the satisfaction.

In the back of the room, Steve's eyes landed squarely on one sole person. He chewed on his lip before turning around.

"Hell, I bet even Munson's got plans. You know we're all busy when he's actually doing something."

At that same moment, Eddie Munson had been sitting with his legs extended through the empty chair in front of him and his arms crossed against his chest. Even if he didn't want to be there in the slightest, Steve Harrington going on a tangent in the middle of senior health class intrigued him. And when his name slipped past the hair's lips, Eddie's face contorted. Eyes narrow and slightly offended. The new kid, Billy Hargrove, laughed as he twirled his pencil. He had been there for two weeks and had swept Eddie’s weed supply clean in a matter of days.

Eddie actually didn't have plans other than Hellfire on Friday, but he couldn't say that out loud. In fact, he didn't say anything. He had an inkling someone would call him to deal at whatever party everyone was going to, but unless it happened, he was staying in and getting stoned himself.

Everyone's head turned toward him and he forgot the real reason he didn't skip that hour. They were all judgemental. He was an oddity to them. You even glanced over your own, three rows in front of him and to the right.

When he caught your gaze, you were the only one to look at him like a real human being, a person, not a freak. Just simple curiosity because everyone else had. You gave him a tiny, empathetic smile before turning back around and he found himself staring at the back of your head after it happened. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Mr. Harrington," Mr. Allen placed one of the bowls he was holding onto Steve's desk, "Nothing's changing. I've conducted this role-play for ten years and it is not changing because you, or anyone else in this class, has plans that don't fit the lifestyle of what it means to be a parent."

He pointed to the bowl before placing the other on a girl named Lisa's desk, "Steve, you pick the boys and Lisa here will pick the girls," he turned his attention back to the room as Steve ran a frustrated hand through his hair. A couple of the girls around you groaned, whispering to one another that the system was rigged because they knew they could no longer pick their partners.

"No picking partners. I'm letting the magic bowls choose them for me. No debating, no arguing. I don't care if you think your partner is bad or not, you will complete this task together. Who knows," he laughed at the looks of the students, "maybe you'll find a new friend through all of this."

“Go ahead, Steve,” he ordered, leaning against his desk with ankles crossed and an amused smile playing at his elderly lips. Glasses perched near the end of his nose, Steve huffed at him and tucked his hand away into the bowl and ruffled the slips of paper.

And like luck, Steve Harrington pulled his own name first. Eddie smiled in satisfaction at that–knowing that there was a chance Steve would most certainly be paired with someone he didn't want after he called him out in class. He hoped Billy would have the same fate too. Hell, everyone who looked at him like he was a fucking Martian from planet Mars.

The irony that Hargrove listened to the same music, smoked the same dope, and drove his car just as recklessly but remained at the top of the food chain at Hawkins High hadn’t escaped Eddie. Girls liked Billy; he played basketball, gave them cheeky smiles, and certainly did not play a fantasy game for fun. He was the antithesis of Eddie’s existence–but a bully and raging asshole too. Billy Hargrove was a piece of shit and it had taken Eddie two days in class to figure that out.

“And Steve will be paired with…” Mr. Allen waited for Lisa to mimic Steve’s draw and she unfolded the paper.

Lisa drew Tammy Thompson's name which could have been worse for Steve. It took 3 minutes for Steve to pull Billy Hargrove's name who was then paired with Kennedy Walker, the school's future valedictorian. The look on the poor girl’s face was sadly hilarious. Hargrove winked at her and she turned such a shade of red that she looked like a balloon. But before Eddie could ponder what an interesting pair that made, Steve sighed and pulled another name from the bowl.

Steve crinckled the thin strip of paper in his hand before tossing it onto his desk, "Munson," he looked at Mr. Allen who nodded as he did with each name.

"And the lucky partner?" Mr. Allen had to have been joking except there wasn't an ounce of teasing in his words. Lisa picked the name out of the bucket and unfolded it with her candy red nails. Then, she laughed. Her eyes crinkled at the side from what you could see as she sat in the first seat beside the door. She looked over her shoulder, directly at you in her line of sight and smiled like a wicked wench.

"Y/n L/n." Shit.

A few of the girls giggled, a couple of the guys whistled which had bristled the compass within you south. You didn't care that you had been paired with Eddie because of what people thought of him–the primary reason they were all bemused with the pairing–but rather at the possibility that he couldn't give two-shits about the assignment. It may have only been October but you had already caught him before two different classes being chastised by teachers for not doing his work. If he kept it up, they said, he wouldn’t graduate with his class.

"Off the hook, ladies," one of the girls on the cheer squad laughed, "Y/n's got him."

Lunch could not have arrived fast enough.

You rushed to the front of the line, grabbed your tray, and made a straight shot for the table you had taken an unassigned assigned seat at. Nancy wasn't there when you arrived so you just picked at your food, rolling the grapes in the small section they had been dumped into and watched the entrance like a hawk. Your leg bounced under the table with a tinge of nervousness, but the aggravation of failure was starting to eat you alive and it had only been an hour since Mr. Allen screwed over your grade. Slowly, the lunch room came to life and Nancy held her calculus book in one hand and purple lunch bag in the other.

Even she had a sour look on her face. Lips pursed and brow furrowed, her hand tightly clenched around the bag as the small gold promise ring from Steve shined in the harsh lighting of the room.

"You'll never believe who Mike gave my number to," Nancy huffed as she sat down; her lunch bag filled scarcely with a peanut butter and jelly and a bag of Cheetos. She had four sticks of cut up celery that you gagged at, not understanding how she could enjoy the stringy vegetable for fun.

"You'll never believe who I was partnered with for Allen's baby project," You stopped pushing around your food and she looked at you with heeded interest, her eyebrows drawn together and her wide eyes concerned.

"You first," you pointed a finger at her as she shifted in her seat. The others at the table started to sit down and engage in their own conversations–you had totally forgotten about watching the doorway to the lunchroom. "Keith?"

"From the arcade! The one who always," she scrambled her hands in front of her in frustration before letting out a groan, "he's always got his dirty fingers on the buttons and offers the kids soda way past a normal time."

There was not a day that went by where you did not think that Nancy Wheeler lived with the silver spoon, nay, stick, up her ass.

"All because of someone who broke Dustin's record of Dig Dug. Who does that!?" Nancy unzipped her bag and sure enough, a PB and J with a bag of Cheetos as a side with sticks of celery tucked in a plastic baggie.

"Maybe he's just playing matchmaker…" You stabbed a grape and popped into your mouth with a smile. "Steve was being an annoying shit in class today, so maybe, just maybe, you should be searching for someone else."

"When isn't he like that?" She laughed, "He's Steve Harrington for God's sake."

"Well, I think he's to blame for the luck I had in class today."

"Luck? You were just on the verge of complaining," she glanced quizzically at you, looking over your shoulder when a paper ball went flying in the direction of the table. "left," she said and you tilted to the left as the wad went flying past both your heads and ended up by the science club's table. It was a daily occurrence. "So, who's your partner?"

"Eddie Munson."

Nancy stopped trying to open the bag of Cheetos. "What?"

"Be glad you're not a senior yet, Nance… this project is going to be the death of me, I swear," your head found a home in your hands as you pushed the tray away from you.

"I'm going to fail it! There is no way I can get an A without a capable partner and then what? Will I have to repeat senior year because I failed health? HEALTH?" You exclaimed.

"You won't fail," she conceded. Placing the snack onto the table, she reached out and patted the side of your arm. "If it really gets bad you can always ask Steve."

"He's partnered with Tammy Thompson. There is no way he'd help me with what Allen said about these babies."

"What did he say? Where is the doll anyway?"

"Eddie's got it. Maybe I'll never see it again if I'm lucky," you removed your hands from the table and folded them in your lap as you told her the assignment requirements and what Mr. Allen had said to expect about the baby. As you talked, she picked at her food and the fruit off your tray as some of the girls from newspaper filled the seats around you.

"At least it doesn't actually, you know, pee or anything."

"But the sensor doesn't know that it isn't real. I don't even know how he got dolls so advanced… I had a flour baby when I was a kid and this is as close to a real baby as possible except it doesn't blink."

"Creepy," she mumbled before picking the bag back up.

"Very," you agreed and took a second to glance around the room. Some of the partners were already facing their first challenges. A few were trying to quell the crying, a couple sat together planning their week out so they could work together and have equal time, but when you looked at the table that normally held Hellfire, Eddie wasn't there.

"They all laughed when my name was called," Nancy's head quirked back up at you, "I don't care that he's my partner; that's not why I'm complaining, but this isn't going to be an easy week."

That was the truth—you didn’t care that Eddie was your partner because as a person, Eddie was not as bad as everyone labeled him to be. He was actually, in an admission that you’d take to your grave instead of tell Nancy, fairly handsome and interested the hell out of you. It was the work ethic and motivation that concerned you.

"People are just mean, Y/n," you nodded in agreement, "you just need to focus on the assignment and if you're lucky, like you always are," she peered into your soul with that jealousy, "everything will go swimmingly."

Nancy Wheeler knew she spoke too soon when the doors to the lunchroom flung open with flair. She jumped and turned around in her seat when she saw your soul escape from your eyes.

"Hey! Mama!"

Jesus Fucking Christ.

He was holding the doll by its back leg, letting it dangle from his hand as if it were that black, metal lunchbox you convinced yourself had drugs tucked away in it. Eddie was looking directly at your table as though he had been searching for you for hours.

“Did he just—“ Nancy cut herself off as she watched him make his way toward the table. A group of preps flipped him off on the way and he gladly returned the bird with glee.

“He just called me ‘mama.’”

You put an arm defensively covering your face, shielding your eyes away from him as the Hellfire table furthered his amusement by cackling at him. Nancy whipped her head back around to you and felt the embarrassment roll off.

“It’s only a week,” she reminded you, “only about a week.”

Eddie’s feet landed at the end of the table and the girls at the end went silent. He was standing there, holding the doll by its hind leg, and quirked his head to the side. His eyes were entertained at the way you had blocked yourself away from him. The call of ‘mama’ making your skin crawl and elating him from far away. He could push a few buttons without feeling bad about it.

“You embarrassed of me, L/n?” He feigned hurt, “what’s our kid gonna think when he learns his parents don’t get along?”

“It’s a doll, Munson,” your hand that had been blocking your face hit the table hard. “It has no memories and will certainly, never, ever, grow up.”

“If Allen heard you say that he’d give us an F,” he walked around the table and took a seat beside you, legs spread as they caged you in from the side and he plopped the baby on the table with a thud. Its head face down on the table as its poorly drawn on strands of hair faced the ceiling. He was wearing double denim. A jacket filled with pins and patches, a chain hung from one loop of his pants to another and the red flannel he wore underneath it was left open to reveal a t-shirt for a band you had never heard of—holes littered the neckline that sat beneath a silver chain.

Across from you, Nancy sat rigid as she watched the way Eddie’s eyes watched you. A small smile playing on his face as one of his hands found themselves in his lap and the other elbow perched on the table beside the doll.

“We should probably talk about this, huh?” He asked, surprising you by actually wanting to talk about the assignment. You turned your head and looked at him, eyes bemused by his willingness to do so. Eddie recognized that, scoffing and reaching inside of his jean jacket to grab a pack of cigarettes before tapping one out. He slipped them back in and stuck the one he plucked from the pack between his lips.

“You know,” he glanced at you, then Nancy, then back at you, “when a teacher tells us we have to work together, I don’t expect to do all the talking.” He lit the cigarette with a puff and the girls at the end of the table began to complain. No one was allowed to smoke in the cafeteria—only the teacher's lounge and well, that was reserved for teachers.

“How do I know you actually want to talk about this?” You countered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you turn in an assignment before.”

“You been takin’ notice of me, L/n?” He smiled wide, grabbing the cig with two fingers and tapping it onto the floor. “If you wanted to talk to me you could just do it, ya know? Don’t need to stare at me.”

“Wheeler,” he looked at Nancy who drew her brows together, the tight contortion of her face judging him without words. “You know your friend has been watching me? Should I put an ad in the paper for a bodyguard to protect me from my stalker?” Nancy didn’t reply because she had never held a conversation with Eddie before. She didn’t understand his humor, let alone the levity of his words as he blew smoke in her face and sat next to her best friend like a suave Casanova.

“Eddie,” you sighed, letting your gaze drift around the cafeteria and caught a few interested stares along with way. One teacher, Ms. Kirch–the freshman biology teacher with a hard-on for students willing to press her buttons—was walking around the perimeter on the other side. If she saw Eddie smoking, they’d both make a scene.

“I know you think school’s a joke but I’m not failing this just because you don’t want to do it.”

“Who said I don’t want to do this?” He furrowed his brows, shaking his head at you as he put the cigarette back to his lips. The red burning as he breathed in.

“Oh I don’t know… your attendance record, report cards, all previous group projects that I’ve never seen you show up for.”

“Those are all Ms. O’Donnell’s,” he defended, pointing a finger at you, “She’s a bitch and has it out for me.”

“I just want to know for sure that if we do this together, I won’t be left to do all the work at the end.”

Eddie saw the honesty in your eyes as you admitted it. He never truly understood what it meant to be an academic because it felt superficial. The attachment to good grades and praise that he never got, so, naturally, he never comprehended. You were a good student—a good person, rather. When he heard your name called after his and the snickers that followed, Eddie was reminded of the fact that you didn’t treat him like a ‘freak’ but a person. And hell, there was a first time for everything when he wanted to try something new. Completing a project because his partner didn’t treat him like dirt? Eddie could at least try it out.

“Why do you think I’m here?” He tapped the cigarette and the ash fell to the floor again. “If I’m going to graduate, I’ve gotta get this done too.”

You nodded slowly in observation. Eddie did not appear to be lying. That blasé attitude he had walked in with gradually decreasing the more you talked. Glancing again at Ms. Kirch who was directly across the room from you beside the table of jocks, the details of the week would be limited to a few seconds before she came charging over and causing a scene. You turned to the small stack of one notebook and history textbook that laid next to your tray. Ripping a paper out of it, you stole the pencil from Nancy’s stack and wrote down your address on it.

“Here,” you handed it to him and he looked over it with a smirk, “that’s my address and phone number. Kirch is going to bite your head off in a minute and we don’t have time to go over all the details so if you’re free later, stop over after school and we can divide everything out.” He knew where you lived. Three doors down from Gareth—his friend and band mate and also, another one of Hawkins’ finest on their way to repeating their final year of school and he was only a sophomore.

“Your parents aren’t gonna beat my ass or anything when I get there? I know I have a bit of a…” he clicked his tongue, tipping his head to the side, “reputation.”

The shrug you gave did not ease his concerns right away. However, the comment that followed made him realize that actually attempting to complete this project with you was a good thing. Maybe luck was finally giving him a chance.

“Not everyone in this town thinks you’re a freak, Munson,” you gave him a small smile, pointing your own finger to one of the buttons on his jacket, “besides, my dad’s favorite band is WASP. I think he’d like someone to talk about it with—even if just for a second.”

He smiled and Nancy Wheeler was taken aback by the scene in front of her. Seven minutes ago, you were in distress with the idea that Eddie Munson was going to be the worst partner imaginable and the cause of failure in senior health class. Now, you were offering him kind smiles and an invitation to your home with so much as his own words being enough to convince you that he wouldn’t leave you high and dry with an unpredictable doll.

Eddie grabbed the doll by its leg again, ready to escape before Kirch made her way but you could already hear her footsteps coming barreling your direction.

“I’ll take it now and bring it over later,” he nodded, sticking the cigarette between his lips again and letting it dangle there, “we should probably give it name instead of referring it as an ‘it.’”

“Mr. Munson!” That shrill voice made him cringe.

“Think about it. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He rose his eyebrows at you as if asking you to agree. You nodded, giving a small ‘yeah’ in response before he shot out of the seat.

“Mr. Munson, smoke outside if you must! Do you not understand the rules of this school?”

Behind you as he stood, Eddie turned toward Ms. Kirch. He let out a puff of smoke between his lips as her hand batted the fumes away from her face. The doll hanging on its one limb and swinging left to right as Eddie taunted her.

“Ms. Kirch,” he swooned, a few amused giggles sound from the tables around you as your head tipped over your shoulder, Eddie’s eyes flashed to yours as he played into her hand. “If you wanted to compliment my ability to break those so-called rules, you could at least have sounded excited to say it.”

“You put that out right now or you’ll be spending after school in detention and it’s going straight onto your record!”

“On my record!?” He laid his free hand on his chest, slowly backing up from where he was standing. Eddie was going to bolt because the old woman wouldn’t run after him. “Ms. Kirch, you know how much I respect my record,” he shook his head dramatically, hair vibrating with the shake as the bud sizzled again. “But, I have plans tonight so…”

The cigarette fell to the floor from his lips, cooling against the white tile as she went to protest. Eddie’s shoe squished it, extinguishing it, and once his foot lifted from the flattened cig, he ran. Ms. Kirch walked no more than two feet as brief laughter erupted in the area—sure they all made fun of Eddie and ostracized him from normal high school life but hell, if he didn’t bring a bit of joy to them when he pissed off the old lady that watched them all like a hawk in their freest period. A chuckle slipped out of you and she turned to you with a glare.

“Do you find this funny, Ms. L/n?”

She smelt like stale flowers and her lipstick was pearled in some spaces on her lips. Kirch was haggard and growing older every day.

“No, ma’am,” you shook your head at her and turned back around. Nancy was sitting with wide eyes, scared of the woman who lingered for a moment behind you before running off to find a janitor to clean up.

“Shit,” Nancy muttered quietly.

“What?”

“He’s deranged, Y/n. Deranged.”

“It’s only about a week, right, Nance? Only about a week.”

And that week would be the most interesting week of your life.

Eddie came over as he said that afternoon after school. At your kitchen table before your parents got home from work, you both devised a plan on how to go about taking care of the doll—and as Eddie had asked, you tried to think of a name but that was harder than it proved to be. He said the first thing that popped into his head and that was unfortunately, Bilbo.

Bilbo. A doll named after Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit was the baby you had to take care of together.

It did not even matter that the doll was plastically formed with female anatomy because he said: “What’s in a name, anyway? It’s just a doll.”

So, Bilbo it was.

And Eddie offered to take it for the night because he had Hellfire on Friday’s when you had nothing, therefore you could swap in the morning and you’d go about the plan when the weekend arrived. The plan, however, was more than what you had originally believed needed to take place for the assignment. Nancy called you Thursday evening after Eddie had left to complain that Steve would be spending all of his free time helping Tammy with the doll and was blowing her off until Halloween—a whole week later. You hadn’t fully realized that what you and Eddie had planned to ensure that you’d both pass health this semester was essentially spending all of your time together [sans Tuesday when his band played at The Hideout and Friday when he had Hellfire].

You slept well Thursday with those thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. Nancy’s concerns were her concerns. She had confided in you that she and Steve were having issues anyway, so one more nail in the coffin did not appear to be as detrimental as she complained it was. If Steve and Nancy were on their final string, the end was imminent. When you woke on Friday, the first thing on your mind was how the night had gone for Eddie and if what Mr. Allen said was true about the babies, had he had an absolutely awful night being a ‘parent’ for the first time?

That question was answered rather quickly as you entered the hallway at seven-thirty.

“Mary! You can’t just leave me with the thing!”

“I am not taking it tonight!”

“It wants food and there’s no way to feed it!”

There were ‘couples’ fighting at every turn. As you passed Tammy Thompson’s locker, Steve looked like he wanted to pull his hair out.

“I can’t do it! I can’t do it!” He complained to her as he held the baby on his hip. It was a sight. Steve in his tight jeans and blue jacket, striped polo, to have a doll perched on his hip like it was real. Everyone was taking it seriously which made the entire situation feel less awkward and daunting.

You reached your own locker, twisting the combination while trying to snoop on Steve’s conversation five lockers down on your left.

“This thing never shuts up! I got no sleep last night and I don’t think I’ll even be able to go to the game tonight because I’m dragging ass!”

“Steve, come on…” Tammy trailed off because she had to sing the national anthem and could not bring the doll with her. But she should have—the doll could probably sing better than her.

“It’s not fair, Tammy!” Steve’s voice began to dwindle as he looked around and noticed people staring at him. He locked eyes with you over Tammy’s shoulder and sighed heavily.

Suddenly, the textbooks and folders in your locker became interesting—far more interesting than all the arguing going on in the hallway. Mr. Allen had made everything difficult intentionally. Splitting up groups so one person cared for the doll at a time before each group realized they couldn’t do it alone. The tactic was good, great even. The responsibilities of childcare and parenting obvious to those who had terrible nights and to those who hadn’t had realized it yet, the feelings were inbound.

As was Eddie. Charging down the hallway after barely hitting a gaggle of kids heading to the middle school in the parking lot and the doll, Bilbo, once again hanging from its hind leg as it swung. He called out your name so loud that even Steve had shut his mouth and stopped talking to Tammy. Eddie had one of those bad nights too. He strode right up to the side of your locker and had a crazed look on his face.

“What the fuck!?” He exclaimed, bags under his eyes. You couldn’t answer the question because you weren’t sure what had gone on.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’!? This thing,” he held it up like a captured possum, “kept me up all night with its relentless screaming and I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off!”

“I don’t think you can turn it off,” you commented, grabbing your science book and folder as your bag hung from the hook. “That’s not the point of the project. The point is to learn how to care for it, not turn it off.”

“Well,” he laughed cynically, “we were given a devil child. Literally the spawn of goddamn Satan because it doesn’t want to be cared for.”

“I thought we weren’t calling it ‘it’ anymore. Bilbo, remember?”

“Bilbo is too kind of name for this thing. It’s Lucifer… fucking… Sauron!”

“I can’t get on-board with Sauron,” you bit back a smile at his suffering, “But your duty is over now, right? Just leave Bilbo with me and we can meet up tomorrow and swap.”

“You’re not going to be able to do it alone,” he said it honestly, like he was terrified of the watermelon sized piece of plastic. You glanced around the hallway and saw all the partners having conversations similar, but all the same different, like the one you were having with Eddie. He was having an internal battle with himself—realizing that he actually had to do this and that when looking back on his own life, if this is what having a child was like, he could not imagine how his parents got through high school having him at sixteen. He had just turned eighteen and could barely keep it together and it was a doll named after a character from a children’s book.

“Do you not believe I can?” You questioned him yet he shook his head, taking note of the things in your locker instead of looking at you.

“That thing is a monster and if it’s not waking you up, it’s eating away all your free time. If it’s not eating away at your free time, it’s taking up all the time spent doing things that matter. It sucks the joy out of life without even taking a real breath.”

“Those are harsh words, Munson,” a sigh left your lips as you gripped your locker door. He was looking at the two Polaroids that were stuck on the door with tape. You and Nancy on the Fourth of July and then you with a group of little kids a few Halloween’s back dressed as character’s from Star Wars. You were hugging a curly haired Han Solo that had no teeth. “But maybe you just don’t have the parental touch that it needs.”

“What are you saying?” He narrowed his eyes, “That I’m neglecting Bilbo’s needs?”

“Maybe,” you shut your locker, “But either way, you have Hellfire and I agreed to take ‘em off your hands today so,” you grabbed Bilbo from him and perched him like Steve had perched his doll. Something stuck inside Eddie in that moment. It was a goddamn doll and he was sleep deprived, so he conflated his bubbling feelings of whatever the hell spurred inside of him to that. You looked cute holding the doll like that.

“We can talk about it tomorrow, alright? If anything needs to change, we have time to discuss it. Don’t get all worried.”

Eddie shook his head, running both of his hands through his hair and over his bangs before bringing them back down.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, mama.”

And then he walked away. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but, certainly it couldn’t be as bad as he was making it because sometimes, people could be dramatic—and Eddie Munson was the dictionary definition of the word. Always had been, always would be, and maybe, he was playing with the truth.

For three hours it had gone swimmingly. Bilbo made no noise.

But the minute Mr. Grosso put the Spanish test on your desk, the doll wailed so loud it made a girl scream from the other side of the room and you missed the test because it cried for thirty minutes in the bathroom before you could calm it down.

You swore you could hear the popping of his muffler three miles away. The blinds on the living room window comically split into two by your fingers, you peered out in anticipation you had gone to sleep feeling. Not quite butterflies but a nervous, anxious energy that kept you tossing and turning through the night. Along with Bilbo—the baby had kept you tossing and turning to the point where you felt crazy.

When you got home, you realized that the doll had smelt like weed and cigarettes but the distinct smell of Eddie’s cologne tried to cover it up. He had sprayed that doll with so much liquid that it had become ingrained into its clothes and soft body. You ripped off the onesie it was wearing and dunked it in the laundry immediately. And again, for the first few hours you managed to get your homework done for the weekend without much interruption until your parents got home.

They were utterly amused with the project and kept repeating that it was good for “skill building and responsibility.” You rolled your eyes and told them what Eddie had said about his night, expecting the same for your own and sure enough, it was like walking through the pits of hell.

Bilbo’s journey, Frodo’s journey… neither of them had the same horror of the screaming baby doll sitting on your comforter at two in the morning. Hour after hour, all you wanted to do was cry because it wasn’t responding to any of the tactics you had used when you would babysit. No rocking, no shushing, no gentle strokes, and just as the others complained in the hall, you couldn’t change its diaper or feed it. The solutions to ease its complications were non-existent.

Eddie rung you at eleven thirty saying he’d be over ‘in a bit’ and you stood at the window in your living room while your dad watched TV and your mom cooked lunch. The doll laying quietly on the sofa beside him for the first time in a half hour.

“So,” your dad cleared his throat as the program changed at noon, “what’s Eddie Munson like as a partner? I know his uncle Wayne from the plant.”

“He’s fine thus far,” you muttered, not tearing your eyes away from the window.

“You know this doll smells like a skunk.”

“It’s weed, dad,” you said so casually his eyebrows rose, “and it’s Eddie’s, not mine. And no, I don’t smoke.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he laughed but he would have. Not that he cared in the slightest if you did, that was all mom. Mom cared about reputation and manners and whether or not you’d have yellow teeth by the time you’re fifty. “But is he treating you alright?”

“What do you mean?” You looked away from the window and back at him, “We’re not really a couple, you know. It’s just a project,”

“I know, I know,” he clarified, waving you off like you had taken the comment too seriously, “as a partner. Not making you feel uncomfortable or anything?”

He might know Wayne, but the label of ‘freak’ extended beyond school. Eddie Munson flew around town in his beat up van playing his metal music at the highest level, smoked and loitered outside of stores, and very frequently, jested with the people of Hawkins to amuse his merry band of oddities.

“Eddie’s a good guy, dad,” you lamented, “so what if he likes metal and plays D&D.”

“D&D?”

“Yeah,” you furrowed your brows at him, “what did you think he did? He literally named the doll after Bilbo Baggins.”

“I thought Hellfire was…”

“What the mothers at the grocery store say it is?” You scoffed and turned back to the window, Eddie’s van turning the corner at the end of the block. “It’s a D&D club. I told him he’d probably get along with you too so try not to accuse him of worshiping the Devil, ‘Kay? That’s like… the furthest thing from the truth.”

He just nodded as you defended Eddie, a little smile on his face because he knew you so well. You were a good kid, a smart kid, but oblivious sometimes. If Steve Harrington had been your partner and he inquired about Steve’s role as a partner, you would have rolled your eyes and ended the conversation there. Eddie pulled into the driveway and you grabbed the baby off the couch, marching to the door. Opening it wide, he hadn’t even exited the van before you were standing there. Split between the wooden door and the glass one, pumpkins littered the small deck and a wreath rested on the door behind your head.

You had a cute house. It was simple and friendly, something his trailer was not. Eddie saw you standing there with a flat face and Bilbo in your hands and he laughed in his car. You could see his elated face burst with laughter; it irritated you but you couldn’t help thinking the sight was special. How often he had been smiling and laughing in your presence and a little butterfly sprouted in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie tossed the keys between his palms as he lazily approached the door, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Looks like someone had a rough night,” he commented a few feet from you as you unlocked the glass door and propped it open. “Didn’t believe me when I said it was Satan?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, putting on a face for him to prove you could handle the stress of taking care of a plastic doll. “Bilbo was a saint. Slept through the night.”

Eddie reached the door, holding onto the silver handle so you could let go.

“Yeah?” He questioned, “tell that to your face, sweetheart. You got no sleep and you look like you walked through Mordor.”

“Do you always reference Lord of the Rings or is it just to prove you read?” You squinted your eyes at him.

“One, I do read,” Eddie entered your house and stood across from you in the small doorway. The doll separating you, he looked down, you looked up. “And two, Bilbo likes it when I talk about familiar things,” He gave a wide, toothy smile before grabbing the doll out of your hands and moving into the entryway.

“You know, this kind of feels like how I’d imagine kids of divorce feel.”

“Like being pawned off by their parents every other day because rules told them to?” You shut the door behind you, pressing it closed with the thud. You pointed to his shoes and directed him to take them off to where a mat sat beside the wooden table with a mirror hanging above it.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slipped them off. He was wearing matching socks. “Poor ‘lil Bilbo Munson-L/n… separated by the rules written on the back of Mr. Richard’s history test.”

You scoffed, walking past him and down the hallway as he struggled with his right shoe. In a matter of seconds, his socked feet patted against the wood flooring and caught up with you.

“My parents are home so don’t be weird or anything,” you muttered and he caught himself nodding at the direction instead of responding with the sarcastic remark because of the way you said it. ‘Don’t be weird or anything,’ as if he was not already labeled that way or saw himself as ‘weird.’ Yes, Eddie was unique and full of a million things you weren’t sure fit a narrative of ‘normal,’ but it didn’t mean he was weird. He was just Eddie.

You rounded a small archway that revealed a living room and an older man sitting on the couch watching the tv. His eyes left the screen and met Eddie’s—who was immediately more reserved than he had thought he’d be. He was nervous, suddenly. Standing in your home, with your father in one room and mother in another, with the task of caring for a baby together looming over his head like a cloud. It was ridiculous and confusing but all the same exciting and challenging for him.

“This is, um,” you glanced at Eddie to put him on the spot. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out at first. He was holding the baby like a real baby and moved it to extend his hand to your dad.

“Eddie. Eddie Munson. Thanks for letting us use your house,” he said as cool as he could. Your dad looked at his hand, taking not a second later to grip it strongly and shake it.

You noticed the way Eddie’s eyes lit up at being welcomed. His hesitancy dissipating as your dad asked him a question, yet all you could do was watch him. The feeling was odd. Watching Eddie interact with your father was like watching a significant other be terrified to meet the parents for the first time. It was terrifying how quickly that idea not only came to your mind, but felt normal.

Conversations between the two of you before being assigned partners had been totaled at three.

And now Eddie Munson was talking to your dad about their shared connection to Wayne Munson in the middle of your living room.

And for some reason, the sight of it was something you wouldn’t be mad about becoming a normal occurrence.

“I hear you play D&D?” He asked Eddie who glanced at you, already looking at him, before nodding and turning back to your dad. He hadn’t expected you to have talked about him at all.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You know,” Rising from the couch, “She babysits some kids that play it. They’re quite the rambunctious bunch but have nothing on that… what did you say its name was?” He asked you, but Eddie answered at the same time you did.

“Bilbo.”

He laughed, repeating the name as he turned toward another archway that led to the kitchen and tipped his head in that direction.

“We never had to do a project like that but I think it’ll do you both good.”

Your mom was standing in the kitchen making grilled cheeses and stirring tomato soup on the stove. She turned her head over her shoulder and gave Eddie a smile. He returned it as his eyes flicked all over the space. He took in the pictures on the wall, the types of plates your family used, the way the sink had a window overlooking the backyard and there was a dog outside on a leash laying on the brick patio. Eddie didn’t have this life. He walked to the patio door and looked out at the yard.

“You gotta pretty nice house here, L/n,” he mumbled as you came to stand beside him. His fingers digging into the plush body of Bilbo as a bit of his hardened shell began to tell him he was out of place.

“It’s nice, yeah,” you admitted, “but it’s a carbon copy of all the houses in this neighborhood.”

He hadn’t put two and two together and noticed the layout was similar to Gareth’s down the street.

“You con your parents to be nice to me too?” He glanced at you as if looking for a conspiracy. That somehow, nothing in his life was this easy. That there was a superficial reason talking to you came easy; that there was a mysterious reason your parents accepted him even if he wore a leather jacket and Motörhead t-shirt and a spattering of rings on his fingers. You weren’t necessarily friends in any way, but he felt comfortable. He looked into your eyes and felt secure because of what? Kindness? The noticeable attention of a girl finally making him soft?

“No,” you said honestly, “just told them a bit about who you were. That’s all. Are you going to stay?”

“Stay?”

“I just thought,” you felt your mouth go dry with his question. Perhaps you were being too forward or not thinking clearly because the sight of him being domestic with a doll had awakened a sleeping giant inside of you. His big, brown, cow-like eyes scanned over your face as you stuttered. “I just thought it’d be easier for both of us the longer we did it together.”

“Oh,” was the sound that escaped between his lips and you immediately began retracting your words. Your parents watched the two of you from the other side of the counter with knowing looks in their eyes.

“It’s fine!” You laughed nervously. “You don’t have to stay. I was just shooting the shit; you know? I’m not trying to keep you from your plans or anything… my mom makes a real mean gc and—“

“—I’ll stay.” Eddie cut in and you stopped rambling, letting the words fall from your lips as he nodded. “I want to stay.”

“O-Okay, um,” you looked into those brown eyes a second longer than you should have before peaking past him and to your parents who tried to appear occupied with cooking. “Eddie’s gonna stay for a bit, if that’s fine.”

“Yeah, hun,” your mom kept her back turned to you and stirred the pot. “He’s always welcome.”

Always welcome.

He had to have hit the lottery with this one. A good, pretty partner and a space to escape to that welcomed him without judgement? He was either in the first circle of Hell or ascending to peace yet his feet were planted on the ground—not a foot from your own.

Eddie spent the entire afternoon there. When the sun fell and the moon rose high, you yawned on the floor of your basement and he knew that it was far past a normal time to spend sitting around, laughing and trying to sooth the unexplainable outbursts of Bilbo. His face hurt from the stupid smile that he couldn’t wipe from his face once the two of you had figured out that the doll had sensors under its arms and swaddling helped stop the crying until another unexplained outburst required attention.

When he walked to his van with the doll swaddled in his arms like a real baby, he turned back as he opened the door and shot one last look to the house where you were still standing to bid him goodbye. Eddie didn’t want to leave. He felt his heart squeeze when you gave him a small wave, illuminated by the yellow lighting of the hallway behind you. Shit. He got into the van and sped off before pulling into Gareth’s driveway and pounded on the door.

You shut the front door and with a lock, your dad turned off the tv in the living room before walking into the hallway to meet you there. Both headed to bed, he put an arm around your shoulders and squeezed.

“We gonna talk about that or no?” He asked.

“About what?”

“That!” He laughed as you felt your face heat up. Rising on the Kelvin scale, you felt a spotlight shrink itself onto you. “You gotta little crush there, darlin’ and to be frank, I think he might too.”

“Dad!” You complained, jostling out of his grip and walking more quickly toward your bedroom. “I don’t like Eddie!”

“Yeah, sure you don’t,” he chuckled as you pushed opened your bedroom door and slammed it closed in embarrassment. “But really, you do.”

Eddie pounded on Gareth’s door for three minutes but no one was coming to the door. Desperate, he put his ear to the wood and heard the distinct thumping of drums echoing throughout the house and contemplated for a moment. He could keep knocking and draw the attention of the neighbors and get the cops called on him for suspicious behavior, or, he could go around to the back and knock on Gareth’s window in hopes that it was closer and louder.

He jumped off the stoop and made for the window. Inside, Gareth was head banging as he played Iron Maiden on his drums and had a literal lava lamp reflecting off the symbols. Eddie put his fist to the glass and waited for a break in the beats to thump. Gareth jumped, a scream emitting from his mouth as his sticks went flying across his room and Eddie waved a hand at him from the other side.

“What the fuck, man?” Gareth opened the window and nearly shivered at the cool, October air. “Why are you here? The cops after you?”

“I just spent eight hours in Y/n L/n’s basement taking care of a goddamn baby and eating her mother’s food.”

“Shit,” Gareth laughed, “that sounds like a fuckin’ dream if you ask me.”

“It’s a nightmare, Gareth. A fucking nightmare.”

“Why?” The floppy hair Gareth had been sporting fell into his eyes as they contorted in confusion. “She’s a nice girl. Her old man helps mine when the cars busted.”

“Of course he does!” Eddie pushed off the windowsill and put his hands above his head, breathing in deeply.

“What? He threaten you or something?”

“No, they were,” Eddie’s face scrunched as if it pained him to say the word, “perfect.”

“Then…” Gareth motioned with his hand for Eddie to continue.

“That’s it! They were perfect! She’s perfect, man!” Then, he let a slew of curses leave his mouth and disappear into the night sky. Gareth laughed, letting a long ‘ahhhhh’ direct itself toward the guitarist.

“Eddie Munson,” he leaned into the bedside table by the window, “in love with the girl next door.”

“FUCK!” Eddie yelled with his hands in his hair.

And he still had a week left to take care of Bilbo with you.

Part 2 Here

[bleedingoptimism]

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

part 3 (NSFW | FtM Steve + Vampire Eddie)

As Eddie lets himself be dragged by Sunshine through the room he catches Jeff from the corner of his eye giving him a big thumbs up and smiles back, unbelieving of his luck.

Out of curiosity, he looks over at The Boss and Sparrow, who are looking at them intently. Sparrow is glaring at him, again. What is up with her?

He sees as The Boss takes Sparrow’s hand and kisses it, telling her something Eddie can’t hear but looks awfully like ‘he’s gonna be okay’ and the frown on Sparrow’s face instantly melts away as she nods.  

He has a second to wonder what the hell was that about before he’s rudely interrupted by Freak, the big bouncer guy, once more crushing face-first into his chest.

They are at the entrance of a hallway that leads to some stairs and Sunshine doesn't seem to notice Eddie’s been stopped until his hand slips out of his.

He turns around and chuckles at Freak and Eddie just staring at each other.

“He’s with me, Freak” Sunshine says, just like Jeff had at the beginning of the night. Only this time Freak is a little reluctant.

“Aren’t you a lucky one?” He asks Eddie, raising an eyebrow, and Eddie has to resist the urge to talk shit back at him. He doesn't want to be kicked out, not now. Not when he’s so close.

Sunshine scoffs and moves to push Freak out of the way, but he also leans in and kisses his cheek, “Be nice, baby” he coos at him and Eddie gets to witness in real time a big-ass grown man melt into a fucking puddle at their feet.

And he can’t really blame him.

The softness doesn’t last long, however. Because as he’s moving past Freak to follow Sunshine, the bouncer stops him again and he speaks to Sunshine, keeping his eyes fixed on Eddie the whole time, “I’ll be right down here if you need me, ok?”

“Ok, baby!” Sunshine answers back, barely paying attention as he takes Eddie’s hand again and takes them upstairs.

They move through a hallway lined with doors on both sides to a second hallway that’s a little more secluded and only has four doors, farther between them. Sunshine gets a key from an inside pocket of his jacket and they enter one of the rooms.

Once inside he lets go of Eddie’s hand and moves to lock the door while Eddie looks around, the place doesn't look like a motel room or hotel or anything like it.

It looks just like someone’s room. Like an ordinary, lived-in, comfy-looking room. And it’s full of stuff. There’re books littered all over a desk and a bookshelf with even more books, but mostly filled with table games.

The bed is unmade, and huge, looks like an antique too, all the furniture does which makes the table games, books, and the fucking basketball and the training weights under the desk chair look surreal. Eddie walks around the room, taps the dresser with his knuckles as he passes by, looking at what’s on top of it. There’re hair and skin care products, a soft-looking brush he resists the urge to grab and try, a small black kit with the words ‘self-made’ in bright pink stitched into it. 

And… There’s a fucking copy of the Dungeons Master’s guide on the desk. He moves towards it and grabs it, looking back at Sunshine who’s just been standing by the door, letting him roam around until now, with a huge smile on his face.

Sunshine chuckles, “That’s not even mine,” he mutters and then lifts an eyebrow at him, “Is that what you want to do while we’re here?” he asks him, cocking his head to the side cutely. Meanly, actually. It’s fucking sexy as hell. 

Lost for words Eddie shakes his head no and Sunshine giggles and it’s the best thing he’s ever heard in his entire life. He feels himself salivating at the thought of tasting everything about Sunshine, even his sounds.

“Why don’t you make yourself at home. I’m gonna slip into something a little more comfortable,” he tells Eddie and then moves to a door on the side that he hadn’t even noticed was there.

That phrase leaves him feeling a little dizzy, all his blood rushing down south. What the fuck, he’s pretty sure he’s heard pornos start that way before. He just sits at the bottom of the bed and lets his mind wonder about what that even means, imagining Sunshine walking out of the vanity wearing a robe with nothing underneath, like in the movies. Or a cute lingerie set with matching colors, or black lace panties and a garter belt. Shit! Maybe comfortable means wearing nothing at all…

And then the door opens and Sunshine walks out… barefoot and wearing a pair of pastel peach sweatpants and a black crop top. And it’s somehow worse than anything Eddie was picturing, or better, actually. Because Sunshine really just wanted to be comfortable with him. And he looks so cozy and soft and warm and fucking beautiful. The sweatpants rest low on his hips, and the crop top reaches just below his belly button, leaving the bones of his hips, his lean stomach, his happy trail, and so many, many moles on display.

Eddie makes grabby hands at him and Sunshine laughs and shakes his head but starts walking towards him, “You didn’t even take your jacket off,” he comments.

“Oh,” Eddie replies eloquently and just sits there as Sunshine steps between his legs and stands in front of him.

“May I?” He asks him, hovering his hands over Eddie’s shoulders. He nods and Sunshine just smiles sweetly at him, and doesn't move until Eddie swallows and says, 

“Yes, please.”

Then Sunshine grabs him by the shoulders of the jacket and slowly starts pulling it down his arms and off him. Shit. He’s never been undressed like this before, so tenderly. He feels completely disarmed.

Once the jacket is off, Sunshine throws it over his shoulder where it falls neatly over a loveseat in the corner of the room.

Eddie smirks, “Nice,” and Sunshine cocks his head to the side confused, and looks back not knowing what Eddie’s referring to, before laughing sweetly when he sees where the jacket landed.

“Let’s pretend I did that on purpose,” He jokes smiling at Eddie and he has to bite his own lips to stop himself from whimpering at the sight of Sunshine, standing between his legs and looking down at him with that smile.

“So…” Sunshine drawls, as his fingers walk along Eddie’s shoulders and pick at the collar of his shirt, “What would you like to do?” he asks.

Everything.

Anything.

Everything.

“Can I touch you?” It’s what Eddie settles with. 

He’s not expecting Sunshine to blush bright red and blink at him, so sure of himself as he seemed. But he does, and he looks delicious.

“Yeah, yes,” he whispers and lets his hands rest on Eddie’s shoulders, offering himself to Eddie’s hands.

So Eddie takes. He lifts his hands and starts slow, barely pressing, caressing the soft skin on Sunshine’s hips. Sees the trails of goosebumps his fingers leave in their wake.

He presses his palms to the warm skin of his sides and splays his fingers wide to encompass as much as he can and then pulls Sunshine gently closer before pressing his face against his stomach and taking a deep breath.

He does fucking smell like the warmth of the sun on a field full of flowers, the motherfucker. 

It’s the best thing he’s ever experienced, it’s addicting. It’s scary.

He feels Sunshine gasp as he ghosts his lips over his stomach and keeps moving his fingers, exploring, feeling the muscles move under his fingertips, the soft hair of his happy trail, following it up where it almost disappears completely before coming back with a vengeance just below his pecs. 

Sunshine’s breathing gets faster and a little louder as Eddie keeps kissing his abs and whatever part of him he can reach as his hands drift further up, fingers stroking over the scars that follow the outline of muscles and are adorned with chest hair. He keeps going, follows the lines of ribs, and goes to his back, goes up and down his spine, pulling him a little bit closer and kissing just below his sternum.

The hands on Eddie’s shoulders are shaking now, and Sunshine lets out a whimper that seems to surprise even himself, his fingers flexing and twisting the fabric of Eddie’s shirt.

“Strid- I-” He starts but stops and just moans instead. And Eddie gets it. It feels weird not hearing his name come out of those beautiful lips between the whimpers and sounds he’s getting out of him. He wants to hear his name, whispered, moaned, screamed by Sunshine. Fuck he wants to know Sunshine’s name.

“You smell so good, you taste so sweet, you feel so soft,” Eddie tells him, standing up and pushing the crop top up over his torso and off of him. 

He takes a moment to just look at him, they’re almost the same height, Sunshine maybe a hair taller than him. And Eddie lets his eyes dance from head to toe appreciatively, taking in how wonderfully debauched he looks. All muscle and hair and soft skin covered in freckles, flushed and hot and just so fucking-

“You are so beautiful.” 

Sunshine’s eyes light up and he huffs and combs his fingers through a lock of Eddie’s hair and looks at it instead of him. He seems overwhelmed so Eddie lets him have a moment, hides his face on Sunshine’s neck, and stays there a second, breathing him in, and kissing him softly.

The whole ‘Never took anyone upstairs before’ makes a little more sense now and it makes Eddie feel overwhelmed himself to know how truly fucking special it is to be in here alone with him.

He noses the strong line of Sunshine’s jaw and down his neck, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head just from his scent. He kisses and nips lightly from tendon to shoulder and back again as Sunshine wraps his arms around his neck and clings to him, one of his legs going up Eddie’s side like he’s trying to climb him. Like he needs to be closer.

Eddie wraps his hands around his waist and lifts him up an inch before sitting back down on the bed with Sunshine sitting on top of him, knees on either side of his legs.

He immediately dives back to Sunshine's neck because he can’t get enough of him, he can feel his teeth sharpening and he lets Sunshine feel them too. The moan and slow thrust of his hips are pretty fucking encouraging but Eddie wants this to last, can’t get to the main dish yet.

His hands go back to feeling every vertebra on Sunshine’s spine as Sunshine's slow thrusts start a rhythm that pairs wonderfully with the small musical gasps and moans he lets out.

He’s so fucking responsive, it’s driving Eddie completely insane. Sunshine is the most beautiful, sensual, perfect man he’s ever had the pleasure of experiencing, because he’s a fucking experience. And he’s never been so hard in his life, it’s almost too painful and he feels, he just knows, he’s going to come embarrassingly fast and probably before they even get their pants down and he honestly couldn’t care less right now.

Feeling like he’s about to overheat, Eddie leans back just enough to take his shirt off and he’s about to embrace the shivering angel on his lap again when Sunshine places his hands on Eddie’s chest. 

Eddie looks at him but Sunshine is staring somewhere below his neck and then down his chest and all over his torso. His hands move, touch him reverently and look at him as if Eddie was worth a shit. It makes his chest hurt, the way Sunshine looks at him.

He lets Sunshine caress his skin, trace his tattoos, and circle his nipples, flicking one of the piercings before cupping his peck, which makes Eddie chuckle getting a cute smile in return before Sunshine dives in and starts kissing Eddie’s neck, nipping, and licking like he’s the one who is actually hungry, like he’s the one who needs blood.

Eddie moves his hands to Sunshine’s waist and holds it strongly, fingers digging into the meat with purpose and encouraging the delicious rhythm of his hips to start anew. 

Both of them are breathing hard now, and Eddie grabs the waistband of Sunshines sweatpants and pulls them up, lifting him a little with the force of it, making him gasp and keen and then moves him and places him more firmly over his left thigh, so he can properly grind against him, use him to get off. 

Sunshine keeps moaning, breathless, “Ah, ah, ahs” he buries into Eddie’s hair where he’s grabbing and pulling at it. And Eddie places his leg more firmly on the floor and lifts his ankle a little, giving him more friction, actively holding Sunshine's waist and directing his movements as he fucks his thigh unrelentingly.

Sunshine’s knee is giving Eddie all the stimulation he needs right now. He’s close and he knows Sunshine is close too. He can feel it.

After a particularly hard thrust, Sunshine lifts his head upwards and gasps loudly like he’s coming out of the water for air. Eddie takes advantage of the angle and goes for his neck, returning the sweet kisses and licks but when he bites him back, he bites more meaningfully.

He groans with his teeth touching that beautiful skin almost hard enough to break it, questioning.

And Sunshine, with his hands still buried in Eddie’s hair pulls at it and pushes him closer to him,

“Yes, yes, do it. Taste me. Take me,” he chants.

And Eddie finally bites him and God. It’s delicious, indescribable, he’s never tasted anything like it.

Sunshine moans loudly as he comes and Eddie growls, his eyes going to the back of his head, his mouth full of blood, his senses full of Sunshine. The taste, the smell, the feeling of knowing Sunshine used him to satisfy himself, got off on him. It hits him like a train, and he comes too, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed from coming completely untouched.

The only thought in his head is:

Jeff was right. Sunshine does tastes like fucking orgasms.

He licks and kisses and mouths at where he bit him until the wound closes, the only evidence it happened is the big purple hickey left in its place and Sunshine leans on him, slowly getting his breathing back to normal.

He doesn't want to let go of him, Eddie thinks, and he unconsciously wraps his arms around his waist and holds him close.

But Sunshine isn't moving either, his arms are around Eddie’s neck, his body still occasionally shivering and he’s humming, sighing, moaning, making all kinds of cute, soft little sounds.

Fuck. He really doesn’t want to leave him.

He didn’t even get to see him completely naked. All that golden skin and moles and hair. He wants that, he wants to touch him. To taste the heat he felt on his thigh, see how wet he got, bite him all over.

It occurs to Eddie that he doesn’t even know his name and his heart breaks a little. He doesn’t even know what music he likes, or what his favorite food is. Fuck. He just wants to know his favorite color.

He’s completely fucked.

Desperate to do something before he just starts weeping, he sighs and leans back a little to look at Sunshine’s face,

“So what do you want to do now?”

Sunshine’s eyes go big and then a little sad and he bites his lips and Eddie shakes his head, backtracking a little,

“I’m not trying to get you to kick me out just so you know. I would actually love to stay,” he tells him and smiles gratefully when a small smirk appears on Sunshine’s lips. “I just wanna do whatever you want to do now,” he finishes.

“I want to kiss you,” Sunshine says, with no preamble, no hesitation, and a little desperate.

And that’s how Eddie kisses him, desperately, passionately and so fucking deep.

And after what’s definitely the best kiss of his life, Sunshine leans away and then back in to press their foreheads together and says, 

“Steve. My name is Steve.” 

“I’m Eddie.”

𝙚𝙣𝙙

part 1: 🍷

part 2: 👄

part 3: you are here

bonus content: ☀️

ao3: 🌙

art: 🦇

coffee?☕🥐💕

[hotjaneaustenmenpoll]

Quarter Final One

Propaganda...

Edward Ferrars (1995) :

Edward gets a bad rap because he's quiet and the whole lucy steele situation but he doesn't get enough credit for how honourable he is! It's easy to have honour when it costs you nothing he knows he'll be miserable with lucy but he knows it's the right thing and to do so he sticks to his guns and does it anyway despite the opposition from his family and to me that is hot! Also yes he makes mistakes but his family are vile - he grew up with Fanny and Robert and is still a good man! Also he looks like hugh grant and plays fun games with Margaret and he understands Elinor in a way no one else does - Hot!Hot!Hot!

Mr Darcy (1995) :

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

GIF by sunsetboulevards

Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

GIF by jaeausten

The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

GIF by didanagy

Fencing? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

GIF by didana

Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

Link

My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

[buckttommy]

hot cocoa

Summary:

"I bought Eddie a ring." Bobby, to his credit, doesn't even flinch. He brings his cup of cocoa to his lips and takes a long, languid sip. He moves the mug from his mouth but doesn't put it down. Just watches Buck with a slight tilt of his head. "You freaking out?" "No. Yes." Buck gets to his feet, suddenly so full of manic energy, he feels like he could burst. "No. I don't know. I mean, why should I be? It's Eddie." or; Buck is freaking out about proposing. He gets an assist from Athena, Bobby, and. Well. Eddie himself.

This is dumb. 

Buck doesn't know what he's doing here for several reasons, starting with the fact that, despite the rapid erosion of any and all workplace norms, Bobby is not actually his dad and ending with the fact that this is not actually Bobby's problem. But the thought of going to Philip with this makes Buck want to break out into hives and, although Maddie would be willing to sit and listen to him vent and moan, she's far too busy with her own life. His only other friends might as well be family for all that they live in each other's pockets, but then there's also the fact that Bobby is... well, he's Bobby. Buck may not know what he's doing here but he knows he wants to be here and that's more than enough reason to have him sitting on Bobby's back porch with his feet perched on the patio chair, knees pulled up to his chest despite (or maybe because of) the dirty look Athena is shooting him when she looks up from her book from her spot in the living room, with a mug of hot cocoa in hand. 

Bobby studies him, curious but at ease, willing to take his time with whatever it is Buck's got cooking up in his brain. And that's a good thing because Buck has no idea where to start. He could start with the fight he and Eddie had a couple nights ago. Well, it was actually less of a fight and more of a very heated argument. On their way to work, they got started going about politics or God or something or someone that doesn't really matter anymore, and Buck could start with the way he forgot what he was saying mid sentence as he looked at Eddie—really looked at him for what felt like the first time in his life—and saw his whole future blow wide open.

He could start with the fact that he watched Eddie gesticulating with his hands out of the corner of his eye as he went on an impassioned rant, spit flinging from his lips (not that that deterred him) and thought, I want to argue with you every day for the rest of my life. Or he could start with the fact that he bought a ring six months ago, that it's been hitching a ride in the glove compartment of Eddie's truck because Eddie rides shotgun in his jeep more than he drives his own car. Or he could start at the beginning with a vow, with a promise to have each other's back, but Bobby was there or at least close by which means he's already got a SparkNotes version of that tucked somewhere in the back of his mind.

So Buck starts with the first thing that comes to mind:

"This is good cocoa."

"Thank you." Bobby grins, that little smile that says he's trying to cling to stoicism by the tips of his fingers instead of glowing with pride. Buck knows it well. Bobby nods at his mug. "Secret ingredient. Why don't you go ahead and give it a try. Tell me what it is."

"My palate is for shit."

"I know."

But Buck takes a sip because this is the game they play, this is the version of life that suits them best—the one where Bobby is his dad and Buck is his son and none of the extra details matter. Buck smacks his lips as he tries to figure out the taste. Sugar, sugar, more sugar—

"Is that cardamom?"

Bobby's eyebrows raise. He lets that smile bloom on his face and raises his mug. "I'm impressed."

"I bought Eddie a ring."

Bobby, to his credit, doesn't even flinch. He brings his cup of cocoa to his lips and takes a long, languid sip. He moves the mug from his mouth but doesn't put it down. Just watches Buck with a slight tilt of his head. "You freaking out?"

"No. Yes." Buck gets to his feet, suddenly so full of manic energy, he feels like he could burst. "No. I don't know. I mean, why should I be? It's Eddie."

"It is."

[read the rest on ao3]

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Seeing the new Ruggie card and the freaking disc made me realize that Yuu got lucky getting away getting hit by that thing? IN THE HEAD?!

Hey, we can’t have our main point-of-view character dead or with an extended concussion this early in the game + they needed a convenient transition to the next scene in a way which doesn’t reveal Malleus’s true identity to Yuu (gotta keep that a secret until late book 5) 😂 As the player’s avatar, they’re equipped with strong plot armor. It definitely feels like a part where you need your suspension of disbelief to kick in for it to “make sense”. Getting beaned in the head with a GOLD disk propelled by magic at a high velocity sounds like it could do significant damage otherwise.

Oh, and speaking of the new Ruggie card?? We get our first look at what the Magift uniforms look like:

***Ruggie Club Wear spoilers below the cut!!***

The purple and black are consistently shown to be NRC’s school colors; these are also present in other athletic uniforms as well as the ceremonial robes. It’s no surprise to see those same shades reflected here, in the Magift (ie Spelldrive) uniform.

Not sure if I understand the jacket he’s wearing over the black, the length of it makes it easy to snag on something while flying. Maybe it’s just something Ruggie specifically wears (since he tends to have hand-me-owns that may not fit him correctly)?? The placement of the belts across Ruggie’s torso is… interesting? Is that meant to secure him…? Why do I get the sense that the belts will be used to frame Leona’s chest in his own Club Wear iteration 😭

The goggles make sense; you’d want to protect your eyes from such a dangerous sport. I was expecting more bulky and protective headwear though 😅 Thankfully the knees and legs seem to be padded! You can’t tell if the arms are due to the sleeves, but I hope they are too. The whole outfit seems to have a focus on being aerodynamic. I’m guessing the protective element of the clothes comes from magic being imbued into them or something (since we know that’s the case for dorm uniforms and ceremonial robes). That must explain why the Magift uniforms don’t look like American footballers. According to Yana, these clothes were designed not just with protection from collisions and rolling in mind, but also to allow for flying at high speeds.

I appreciate that the Club Wear cards usually give us a new hairstyle for each student. Ruggie has his bangs parted to make way for a pair of goggles! This look makes him look slightly more mature.

A nice detail for this card is that we get to see the field set up for a full game of Magift. The goal looks so funky and generic fantasy at the same time 😂

... Now imagine pulling up to the field looking cool and intimidating in your clothes, only to get your ass handed to you by pretty boys in (probably) pristine white uniforms that haplessly cheer about the power of friendship 💀 AND THAT HUMILIATION IS TELEVISED ALL OVER TWISTED WONDERLAND