#but I’m just glad that they’re still alive

[alexalessandro]

These are just my jumbled thoughts about the fantasy high junior year finale so you know they won’t be in order. They won’t be linear. here we go. (T-T-TAKING OVER TEENAGE REBELLION)

So first of all, I am fully satisfied with the junior year finale.

My main concerns were the character arcs for the intrepid heroes- for the bad kids. I was worried about the bad kids and I wanted their arcs to be resolved (I never really gave a shit about the rat grinders sorry not sorry).

I’m glad that all of the rat grinders except KipperLily Copperkettle got redeemed (I actually hated that bitch). Glad that she was the truly evil one out of the group and like Osin and Ivy were not great but just got worse because of the shatter star (and they now have a second chance with Jawbone which is nice, we might have some interesting dynamics with Ivy and Aelwyn THINK ABOUT THE TOXIC LESBIANS GUYS AELWYN WAS MISSING EVERPETAL)

We got Maryann back so hell yeah W on the board and Buddy was just fucking hilarious. Love that he stayed a stooge right to the end even after the shatter star he just changed beliefs that is the funniest shit ever.

I’m actually very satisfied with the finale for the rat grinders very satisfied that KLCK was not a complicated woman, but just a fully evil woman that killed her best friend Lucy Frost blade and was fine because she willingly got shattered to have her best friend be dead forever.

Let’s just let that sink in everybody: KipperLily Copperkettle that was very fond of Lucy and Lucy was the only person on her team that really liked her, and she killed Lucy in a HEARTBEAT to get power and was fine with her staying dead, so let’s sit with that. Let’s rationalize that really KLCK was NOT a complicated woman just fucking evil all right, the rat grinders are better off without her sorry girlies

Now going back to the bad kids I am very satisfied with everyone. I am really glad that figs arc was to be a school dropout and to find that centeredness within herself and realizing that the unsteadiness that she felt was the fact that she really wanted to keep her friends, but she felt like dropping out of school would mean losing them. I’m really happy that she got to the conclusion of you got to center yourself. You can do things for other people but you deserve to get help and part of that realization was “I don’t need school”.

I don’t wanna be in school but I can still have my friends- and like honestly honestly, at this point, the bad kids are all fucking related. There is no way that they’re splitting up OKAY? The family polycule is getting bigger by the day.

Kristen tried to poly-pill Gertie with it. Maybe she can get Jawbone to help (I don’t know appropriate that is) but hey the future is Poly so that’s amazing actually.

Oh and getting to Kristen the fact that she now doesn’t have the sole responsibility to be the bearer of keeping Cassandra alive in this world? the fact that the pantheon might fuse into one religion? amazing.

The main thing with Kristen was the fact that she’s just a 16-year-old girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders and it’s a very similar arc to figs in a way because Kristen‘s whole Thing this season was recognizing and finally asking for help.

She is 16 and she shouldn’t have been doing this all alone, so the fact that her pantheon (like she might be the priestess and of a pantheon and not necessarily just single Goddess), the harbringer of the age of the lesbians with Cassandra and Ankarna and Ruvina and Galacae making a pantheon of just lesbians. I love that, that is amazing. That is what I want. Thank you.

And Adaine and Aelwyn are finally gonna kill their mom! finally! finally killing off that one loose thread that has literally been haunting their lives with like the allowance and all the other shit that Adaine had to deal with this year because of the fact that her mother is still alive glad that that’s hinted at being resolved.

Glad that like Gorgug finally got Mariann-pilled. That was amazing.

Glad that Fabian finally got a healthy relationship with a girl that Isn’t toxic. Hopefully Mazey will get him to talk to Jawbone a little bit and get over his number-one-nemesis his baby brother, though I think it is a very fun even (if tragic) dynamic for him to be nemesis from day one with his baby sibling. I think that would be a really funny bit thing to have.

And Riz! Riz finally taking a break (although brief) you know fuck unnecessary stress, fuck it let’s get some tea. Let’s chill out. I feel like Riz is someone that needs to be in constant motion but it’s nice that now he knows that he doesn’t have to be ON all all the time you know? It’s a marathon not a sprint.

There can be times when you get tea and times when you need to get the coffee, but the fact that he doesn’t feel like it has to be coffee all the time, the expectation that Sklonda put on him thrown out the window and in a beautiful way it mirrors Fig’s arc this season.

fig realized that school wasn’t what she needed what she really needed and wanted was her friends and she didn’t need to go to school for that and riz realized the same thing that he doesn’t have to keep a white knuckle grip on things and get his hands bleeding each time. A more casual hey let’s see how life goes like that’s a very beautiful character moment for both of them.

realizing that you don’t have to see the same people every day like the reality of things is that you drift apart and you drift away from the people in high school, but there is also the thing where I still keep in contact with my high school friends. it’s further and far in between because we weren’t really close in high school but had we been closer in high school maybe we would be seeing each other every day you know like I know a lot of my high school friends that have kept really close contact afterwards and became uni friends so like it’s not impossible.

In the end I’m fully satisfied this finale. It leaves the bad kids lives in a better place from where we found them and you know like junior year did what junior year does. I think a lot of the bad kids realize what they want what they needed what they were lacking and the steps that they needed to take to achieve what they wanted and I think that’s beautiful. I really like the place where the bad kids ended up as a group And you know it might be my brain screaming that they will not drift apart, but also the family tree is on my side so you know we’ll see. 



[tariah23]

One of my best friends whom I haven’t spoken to in forever reached out to me just now and told me that they loved me, I want to die actually-

[pocji]

the thing about both gukkie and pyoji is at some point I just became so aware of their struggles with mental health and hardships they had in their careers (especially the way gukkie still shoulders all the guilt that comes with bap and what happened to them) that it stopped being an attraction thing for me like. I love them both dearly and I am just proud of them :’)

[harmonizewithechoes]

.

[loveinhawkins]

”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

[goldsainz]

YOU BELONG WITH ME — one shot.

pairing: lando norris x reader

MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @racingtrack @saintslewis @leoramage @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @forza55 @goldenleclerc @ravisinghs-wife @ferrarirace @hobiismyhopeu @celestialpierre

request: “can i please request for a 📀 with lando and the song you belong with me :)”

NOTE: purely self-indulgent in the sense that lando pines for the reader😭 gotta live my love dreams through my fics. hope you all enjoy and pls don’t forget to reblog/comment it helps a lot (also love seeing what you think) 🫶

liked by lailahasanovic, ursulolita and 305,821 others

yourusername missing the summer :(

view all 4,587 comments

landonorris Missing you

this comment has been deleted

landonorris Cool pictures

ynfan1 yeah… still don’t like her bf😭

⤷ ynfan2 what? why?

⤷ ynfan1 gives off weird vibes also liked some lando hate comments pretty recently

landofan1 LANDO’S DELETED COMMENT

ynfan3 prettiest woman alive fr

landofan2 y/n ignoring lando hurts my soul

⤷ ynfan4 after that comment it makes sense

ynfan5 she’s everything and he’s just… there

ynfan6 I CAN’T DEAL WITH THE SILENCE BETWEEN HER AND LANDO

landofan3 bye her boyfriend doesn’t even like or comment🙄

⤷ landofan4 i’m convinced he doesn’t even like her

⤷ landofan3 lando WORSHIPS the lane she walks on and they’re not even together!!!!!

ynfan7 no hot girl summer, but she’s still a hot girl

yourusername posted an instagram story!

liked by ynfan21, landofan21 and 67,358 others

f1wags Y/N Y/L/N and her best friend have been spotted at the Abu Dhabi Grand Priz! This is her first public appearance in the F1 paddock since the Miami Grand prix.

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ynfan22 SHE IS GLOWING

ynfan23 oh she came to slay

landofan22 lando’s lucky charm is back🥹

⤷ ynfan24 AND WE ARE GLAD ABOUT THAT!!!

landofan23 praying that she’s there for lando🙏🙏

ynfan25 the dress is so stunning

ynfan26 we finally have y/n content😩

⤷ ynfan27 the drought has ended!!!!!

landofan24 NEED HER IN THE MCLAREN MOTORHOME OR HOSPITALITY‼️ I’M NOT PICKY

landonorris posted an instagram story!

liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 754,063 others

yourusername better than the summer 🤍❄️

view all 11,310 comments

landonorris I promise I take better pictures

⤷ yourusername we know. you have a whole account about it.

⤷ landonorris Is that complaining I hear?

⤷ yourusername nope 🫶

landofan31 WAR IS OVER!!!

ynfan31 i’ve waited a lifetime for this

ynfan32 THE SHADE IN THE CAPTION???

⤷ landofan32 BEST THING EVERRRRR

ynfan33 the difference in likes from her last post to this one is absurd😭

riabish Finallyyyyy

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ynfan34 mother is in her lover era

⤷ landofan33 i once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden like daylight ✨

ynfan35 i’m never getting over them!!!!!

[harrysfolklore]

Can you please, pretty pretty please do another Zendaya one??

fake social media

okay i’m kinda nervous bc this is the first time i post for someone who’s not harry so HI i do social media au blurbs and i hope you like this one i did for tom 🥲 let me know your thoughts and send in requests if you have any !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by hunterschafer, tomblyth and 5,119,083 others

yourinstagram Thank you so much @vogueitalia for having me 🤍 Interview out tomorrow

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ynfan1 STUNNING

alexademie ❤️⭐️!!!

ynfan2 models should be glad she chose acting as a career

dualipa MOTHER 🤍

ynfan3 i wonder what kind of tea she spilled on the interview

tomblyth ❤️

↳ tomfan1 HELLO?

↳ tomfan2 ariana what are you doing here

liked by ynfan1, tomfan1 and 302,922 others

enews We’re losing our minds over this new Hollywood romance. 🥹 Link in bio to see how YN hard launched their relationship (📸: Getty)

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tomfan1 OMFGGGG

ynfan1 THIS IS GIVING ME LIFE

tomfan2 NOOOO 💔

ynfan2 “my love life has always been private but this time just feels right to let the world know” NO I CANT MY HEART

↳ tomfan3 DYING

liked by rachelzegler, yourinstagram and 502,826 others

tomblyth Sneak peak at our inconspicuous movie about 2 totally chill birdwatchers with no emotional damage whatsoever… 😏

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tomfan1 AHHHHHHHHHHH

ynfan1 this movie is going to be so good

hunterschafer ❤️

tomfan2 THE SLAY OF THE CENTURY

ynfan2 okay now i get yn

yourinstagram Those are my babies 🤍

↳ ynfan3 we love a supportive girlfriend

↳ tomfan3 i’m definitely not jealous

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tomupdates Tom and YN in Los Angeles today !

view all 509 comments

tomfan1 STOP THIS

ynfan1 WELL

tomfan2 AHHHHHH

ynfan2 people who don’t support this relationship are so lame bc look at them

tomfan3 she visited him on set 👀

liked by hunterschafer, yourinstagram and 511,028 others

tomblyth Come back to the beginning of the games with us @songbirdsandsnakes

view all 6,919 comments

tomfan1 AHHH OMG

ynfan1 what a time to be alive

rachelzegler YES !!!

songbirdsandsnakes We are SO there! ❤️

yourinstagram SUPER PROUD MY LOVE 🤍🤍

↳ ynfan2 AHHHHHH

↳ tomblyth I love you ❤️

↳ tomfan2 I JUST DIED DEAD

liked by tomblyth, sza and 5,287,209 others

yourinstagram Exciting things coming

view all 37,028 comments

ynfan1 SAY SIKE

tomfan1 she’s dating my man i can’t

hunterschafer they’re not ready

↳ ynfan2 SPILL THE BEANS

ynfan3 the way this could literally be anything

tomblyth Gorgeous ❤️

↳ tomfan2 im still in the denial phase btw

FANS VIA TWITTER

//

liked by tomblyth, oliviarodrigo and 6,927,019 others

yourinstagram CAN’T CATCH ME NOW from @songbirdsandsnakes will be out today. The film and the rest of the soundtrack are out November 17th. Thank you to sweet angel @oliviarodrigo for writing this song and letting me sing it, this is so special to me 🤍

view all 76,207 comments

ynfan1 OMFGGGGG

mtv Our skin is clear. Our grades are all A’s. This is exactly what we needed

ynfan2 SINGER YN IS SO ALIVE

tomfan1 OHHHH LORDDDDD

hunterschafer ❤️❤️❤️😭

tomfan2 she 🥹 did this 🥹 for tom 🥹

ynfan3 the things she does for love i guess bc i thought she was allergic to studios

tomblyth So proud of you 🤍

↳ tomfan3 WHAT IF CRY

↳ yourinstagram Wouldn’t have done with without your encouragement 🥺

↳ ynfan4 IM MELTING

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tomblyth HG film dump. Just some of the many people I love who breathed life into this movie. @songbirdsandsnakes opens tomorrow 🤍

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tomfan1 CRYING

rachelzegler See you on the big screen 🙌🏻

ynfan1 i can’t wait to see it omg

yourinstagram SUPER PROUD ❤️ I love you !

↳ ynfan2 AHHH SO CUTE

↳ tomfan2 that should be me

tomfan3 i was here before hunger games

liked by tomblyth, alexademie and 6,926,209 others

yourinstagram TBOSBAS is on theaters now and all I can say is that I love every single human being involved in it and I’m so proud of them 🤍 Oh and thank you for all the support for Can’t Catch Me Now, you make me all mushy 🥲

view all 39,026 comments

ynfan1 AWEEEEEE

tomfan1 LOOK AT MY BABY

rachelzegler We love you sweet angel ! Having you on set was a blast❤

↳ ynfan2 MY BABIEEEEES

tomfan2 WE NEED MORE TOM BTS CONTENT

ynfan3 okay can we get a full album now

↳ yourinstagram I only release music for special occasions 🤍

↳ tomfan3 AHHH SHE DID IT FOR TOM

tomblyth Thank you for being my rock and bringing me bagels, I love you honey ❤

↳ tomfan1 OH TO BE CALLED HONEY BY TOM

↳ ynfan1 i'm melting

liked by harryfan1, ynfan1 and 409,299 others

people Our favorite off-screen couple has arrived to the #BalladOfSongbirdsAndSnakes premiere ! Link in our bio for more pictures.

view all 21,065 comments

tomfan1 AHHHHH I CANT

ynfan1 they're matching my heart

tomfan2 THEIR RED CARPET SLASH PREMIERE DEBUT

ynfan2 yn is such a supportive girlfriend tom is so lucky

↳ tomfan3 they're so lucky to have each other 🥺

INTERVIEWS BY TOM AND THE CAST DURING THE PREMIERE

//

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tomupdates Tom and YN at the TBOSAS premiere ! 🥺

view all 822 comments

tomfan1 AHHHH

ynfan1 i can’t take their cuteness anymore

tomfan2 i’m so damn jealous ngl

ynfan2 WHIPPED

tomfan3 i’m bisexual bc of them

liked by tomblyth, dualipa and 6,028,984 others

yourinstagram Snow lands on top. The man of the hour

view all 78,019 comments

ynfan1 AHHHHH

tomfan1 SO TRUE IT BOY

hunterschafer Love you both 🤍

ynfan2 she’s down horrendousss omg

tomfan2 i get her if tom was my boyfriend i would post pics of him all the time

tomblyth I love you so much ❤️

↳ tomfan3 WHAT IF I CRY

↳ ynfan3 they’re equally down bad

liked by yourinstagram, rachelzegler and 1,002,109 others

tomblyth Dream girl ❤️

view all 21,299 comments

tomfan1 NO WAY

ynfan1 IM CRYING

alexiademie 💘⭐️

ynfan2 ahhh this is what she deserves

tomfan2 tom is such a soft boyfriend i could cry

yourinstagram 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹❤️

↳ ynfan3 they’re endgame i swear

[lovelytsunoda]

glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri

summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.

pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader

warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)

“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”

oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“but why?”

oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”

y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.

who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.

“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”

oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”

she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”

it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).

it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.

she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.

this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?

she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.

“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”

oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”

that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.

why on earth was she agreeing to this?

“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”

the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.

“oscar, what are you doing?”

he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”

god, this man was going to be the death of her.

————

she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.

from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.

she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.

they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.

"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.

oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.

"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"

"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.

she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.

"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.

my boyfriend oscar.

"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.

oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."

carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."

"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.

oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.

australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.

but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.

________

"you've got to be shitting me."

she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.

except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.

a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.

"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"

she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"

oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.

"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."

did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?

she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.

"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."

"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.

she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.

if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-

nope. we're not going there today.

she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?

when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?

he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.

all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?

wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.

he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.

it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.

he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.

the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.

god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.

he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.

he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.

and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.

“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.

she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.

“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”

“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”

“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”

they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.

"yes."

she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.

she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.

she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.

"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."

oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"

"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."

god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.

"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."

"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."

oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."

"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.

"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."

"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."

"i look forward to it."

oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.

"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.

she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.

"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.

in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.

"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.

it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.

"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."

he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."

he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.

-------

they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.

"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."

"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."

"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"

fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.

the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.

she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.

"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."

she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."

oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."

"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."

"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."

-------

the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.

that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.

but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.

oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.

"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."

oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"

y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."

oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"

all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.

y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.

sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.

"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."

"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."

the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.

"can i have this dance, my love?"

she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.

man, she could really get used to this.

get used to oscar.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc

[thefreakandthehair]

I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.” 

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

[dumbseee]

life saver.

f1 au: in which, you’re a famous singer and you just got out of a very toxic relationship, so when fans starts noticing how close you’ve gotten to a certain formula one driver, they get protective.

carlos sainz jr x singer!reader.

fc: madison beer.

liked by selenagomez, carlossainz55, bellahadid and 3 689 008 others.

y/n: today was my first concert since my hiatus, you guys were amazing and i couldn’t thank you enough for your support! i love you guys so much <3

_

bellahadid: you’re so strong baby!

fan1: we missed you so much!

fan2: omgggg please come to asia!

fan3: she’s the only artist i’ll sell my kidney for

fan4: her new album is devastating, i’m so glad she’s finally happy

fan5: a year without you was too much!

fan6: she looks like a princess and a fairy at the same time it’s amazing

fan7: wtf is carlos doing here?

fan8: @.fan7 he just started following her, that’s weird

fan9: @.fan8 let the boy be a fanboy omg

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 689 008 others.

carlossainz55: my thoughts will echo your name, until i see you again.

_

fan1: THE?? Y/N?? LYRICS??

fan2: am i dreaming or carlos used enchanted’s lyrics??

landonorris: looking good mate!

fan3: he looks so good wtf

fan4: i’d kill to be that damn dog

fan5: WHY IS EVERYONE IGNORING THE THIRD SLIDE?? WHO IS THAT??

fan6: @.fan5 that looks like his sister tbh

fan7: @.fan5 that must be isa, apparently they’re still seeing each other

fan8: spill the tea carlos, you’re too old to be soft lauching

liked by gigihadid, vittoria, taylorswift and 2 008 689 others.

y/n: no need to ask, he’s a smooth operator.

_

fan1: nah man they HAVE to be dating

fan2: @.landonorris you know something, so spill IT

landonorris: @.fan2 carlos will kill me, are you nuts?

fan3: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

fan4: @.landonorris you just ruined their whole soft launch thing BSIDODOLD

fan5: @.landonorris run boy because if carlos catch you, you’re done for

carlossainz55: i’ll shave your head in your sleep, lando norris.

landonorris: @.carlossainz55 I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING???

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, charlottesiine and 3 789 788 others.

y/n: more pictures of our little trip to capri :) (don’t worry everyone, lando is still alive)

_

carlossainz55: well, now we don’t have to hide anymore, i love you mi cielo.

liked by y/n.

landonorris: i BARELY made it, carlos threatened to run me over if he saw me in the streets of monaco!

fan1: BSKDODOOD

fan2: *let’s all pretend we didn’t know already*

fan3: please take care of her, carlos.

carlossainz55: @.fan3 trust me, i will.

fan4: carlos is literally the only man I’ll trust around y/n

charles_leclerc: congrats lovers!

liked by y/n.

fan5: can’t wait for her paddock outfits!!

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY FOUR

in which you and eddie win the bet.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7k+

→ a/n: oh, holy fuck. holy fucking shit. i have no words, because i know it's not really over yet (we still have an epilogue, friends! don't forget that!) but... i did it. i finished another fic. that's just... insane?

thank you to everyone who has been so very kind and supportive of this fic. i owe you all the world. i'm sure i'll either make a sappy post between now and thursday, or i'll get extra sappy in the a/n on the epilogue, but for now - please know you have all my love. <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

24:00 ─────────────── ㅇ 24:00

DINGUS: hey, i facetimed them for last hour’s proof. had to work out when they wanted me to head over and pick her up. 

BIRDIE: both still alive? both still well? 

DINGUS: so it seemed. 

ARGYLE  😎: what a relief! I knew they had it in them

JOHNNY BOY: They still have to last one more hour. 

NANCE: They’ll last the hour. Have a little faith, babe. 

JOHNNY BOY: Still don’t like the fact we’ve just started calling them instead of requesting the photo proof. I mean, how do we not know they’re lying? Did you talk to both of them when YOU called, Nance? 

NANCE: Yes, I told you guys that.

NANCE: Besides, you guys already know that Eddie hates having his picture taken. We’re lucky we ever got picture proof to begin with.

DINGUS: also i JUST facetimed them??? physically saw them?? your lack of trust in me and nance kind of hurts jon

BIRDIE: @NANCE hey can you call ME babe next? 

HOUR TWENTY FOUR – 4:00 PM

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

Steve. 

You wait for Eddie’s arm to leave you, for him to put space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. He keeps you pressed flush to his side as if the sudden arrival of a friend doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference. 

“Hey, Harrington,” he even casually greets first. 

He’s making no move to get up off the floor. 

Just a little bit longer. Let me sit here and live in this moment a little bit longer.

“Munson,” Steve nods to Eddie before setting his sights on you, “Doll. Nice to see you, kind of glad I’m not having to fish you out of the canals.” 

You feel it — Eddie’s arm tenses behind you ever so slightly at Steve’s nickname. Clearly, it’s still a sore spot for him to work through. 

“I was feeling generous,” Eddie shrugs as if he hadn’t just revealed a flash of jealousy to you. You’re not even sure if he knows that you felt it. But it was there, in the slightest tightening of his grip and the flexing of his bicep behind your shoulder.

“Generous? I think you were feeling friendly,” Steve waves his hand between the two of you, as if he thought he was pointing out the obvious. 

If he thought this was close, he’d faint at the imagery of you on the kitchen counter, Eddie’s face between your legs as he begged for you to let him touch you. 

Just as you had noticed Eddie’s jealousy, he notices the way you suddenly heat up, shifting in your seat ever so slightly. That pull on the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. You kind of hate how easily the two of you can finally read each other. You kind of love the way he’s looking at you as if he’s thinking the exact same thing. 

“Do I get my free punch now?” you finally speak up, tone flat as you muster a glare in Steve’s direction. You’re forgoing all polite and pretend oblivion. 

Every single one of you here knows what happened. The bare bones of it, at least.

Eddie looks at you curiously, “Excuse me?” 

Steve only grins, holding out his arms as if welcoming you, “Take your best shot.” 

You stand quickly, and Steve even flinches. He clearly had thought it was all a bit, but you were deathly serious. After the night you’d had, you wanted to punch something, anything. 

“Hold on,” Eddie fumbles to follow you as you stand in front of Steve, your eyebrow cocked as you pause, “Hold on, why are you punching Harrington?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. ‘She’d never go for me, why would she go for you?’” you remind him, and fully expect for hurt to flash across his face. Instead, merriment continues to tug on his lips, “That ring a bell?”

“It might,” Eddie drawls, slowing down his movement to stand more casually, no longer in a rush to break up the fight. His eyes flash with something, with some sort of affection as your hand curls into a fist threateningly and you continue to glare daggers at Steve, “‘S cute to see you defending my honor, sweetheart.” 

Your knees almost physically wobble. The nickname that once struck such anger and irritation in you has become your favorite thing, something that can so easily elicit such a physical reaction. Any taunting has dissipated from his tone when he falls from his tongue now. Adoration takes its place.

Steve looks between you two for a second before his face twists up, “God, I think I liked it better when you two hated each other.” 

“Never really hated each other,” Eddie corrects Steve, but his eyes never leave yours. 

“Right, must have slipped my mind.”

One of the questions that had been torturing you has now been answered — Eddie would, in fact, be acting differently around your friends. It’s almost enough that you feel no need to punch Steve.

Almost.

“Where do you want it?” you tear your gaze from Eddie, looking back to Steve now expectantly, “Cheek? Nose? Chin? Jaw?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “My God, have you just been dreaming of this moment for the last hour?”

“I have.” 

Eddie leans back against the wall, still watching and still smirking as he crosses his arms. 

“I know Eddie’s your boyfriend now but-“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct him quickly, but something inside of you twists at saying that.

He wasn’t your boyfriend. You two had just agreed you’d need time apart before even thinking of exploring what this new chapter will bring you two. So why does it feel so wrong? Why do you suddenly feel like a pathetic teenager, desperate to bestow some cheesy title upon her crush? 

Eddie nods when you suddenly look at him, as if he can read your mind, “I’m not her boyfriend. Just… her scary dog.”

Scary dog privilege. And God, does that moment feel light years in the past now. Years ago rather than hours ago. His promise to protect you suddenly rings truer now. If you ever did find yourself in trouble, you knew he’d answer your call. You knew now why his protection only extended to you. You finally, finally understood.

“Scary dog?” Steve squints at Eddie, and his judgmental demeanor has fully returned, “What the fuck does that even mea-“

He doesn’t get to finish the sardonic sentiment. The slap of your palm interrupts him.

“Ow!” he yelps out, head snapping from the force of the hit and hands already coming up defensively. 

Eddie pushes off the wall the moment Steve’s hands are up in the air, “Lay a hand on her in retaliation, Harrington, and I’m breaking your arm.” 

All the joking, cocky demeanor has faded. Like he had said — scary dog privilege. It applies to more than just pricks at the bar.

“I’m not,” Steve grumbles, rubbing at the red imprint now singing his cheek, “Jesus Christ, I said a punch.” 

You fight a smile, “I don’t know how to throw a punch.”

“I can teach you,” Eddie pipes up, now standing beside you, hovering in your orbit. 

“Don’t-“ Steve puts out a warning finger, “-encourage her. I only said you could punch me because I knew you couldn’t throw a punch!” he continues to cradle his face, now pouting at you, “Do you feel better now?” 

You only answer with a triumphant smile. Because your palm is stinging, and you know violence isn’t the answer, but yeah. You do feel a little bit better. 

“I don’t,” Eddie hums. He only has to take one step forward for Steve to back up, throwing out defensive eyes as he narrows his eyes, “Think I deserve to get a slap in, too, Stevie.” 

“Fuck that,” Steve spits, eyes wide with genuine fear that makes you want to giggle, “You do know how to throw a punch. If I’m letting you get a free one in, I deserve twenty four hours notice.” 

“Then consider this your notice.” 

Is this what I had always been missing out on? 

You always knew Eddie was playful with everyone, had witnessed how he joked with friends, but you’d never been included. The thought that this was the new normal makes your heart nearly burst. To be on Eddie’s side finally, to be in his good graces properly, makes you feel as if you belong more than any private movie night with Steve or impromptu dinner date with Robin. More than any night out with Nancy. More than any smoke session with Argyle, and more than any literature debate with Jonathan.

It’s as if Eddie was the missing link. You never felt you belonged, because you’d always ached for your rightful spot at his side, not just amongst the group.

The three of you stand in a makeshift circle and every single one of you smiles. Even Steve, through his slipping pout and swollen cheek, is grinning. 

Suddenly, it’s not quite as heavy as it once felt.

Everything has changed. Leaving now is not leaving forever. 

“I’d pay to see that,” you comment, taking a daring step to bump shoulders with Eddie. His eyes meet yours, his dimples come to life, and suddenly — you’re home, “Think I can get a front row seat to you beating Steve’s ass?” 

Steve starts to protest but Eddie only nods eagerly, “I think that can be arranged.” 

“I am once again reminding you two that I liked your screaming matches more than whatever this,” his hand flails, motioning to the way you two are standing closer to one another than you are him, “whole teaming-up-against-me bit is.”

“We’re not dating,” you’re reiterating as Eddie laughs out, “Stop being a crybaby.” 

You look at one another again. Another foot in the door of your newfound home, another look into your new place to rest your head. It’s as if you’re just now realizing you’ve spent the entire year missing Eddie, even as he was right there in front of you. 

“Well, God save us all when you two are finally dating,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head.

“If-“ Eddie starts to correct, but you stop him.

It’s not an if when it comes to you two dating, you decide. It’s a when.

“I’ll send a gift basket when the day comes,” you snark. The look that Eddie sends you could heal every wound ever left behind, right then and there. 

You’re home. When Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders and Steve rolls his eyes at you two (affectionately, even if he’d deny it), you know you’re home.

—

But then, you actually do have to go home. 

You try to put it off. The three of you occupy Eddie’s living room for a while, Steve complaining about the way Robin woke him up endlessly throughout the night and how he never did finish that assignment due in his English Literature class. It reminds you that life will continue on; you have to go back to work and school, deal with daily annoyances that should seem bigger than all that’s happened with Eddie tonight, but they don’t. They all seem minuscule now, really. 

“Do we still have to send photo proof?” Eddie asks once Steve’s tirade has waned. You’re sat between the two boys, Steve’s body turned almost completely to face the two of you while you and Eddie slowly sink back into the cushions. 

You’re sure if Steve knew the activities that had taken place on this couch, he would not be sitting so comfortably. If at all.

Steve sighs at the mention of the bet, “You probably should. Jonathan’s been antsy about it the entire time. Me and Nance tried to cover for you guys, lying about calling and stuff but-“

“Why would you lie?” you inquire, uncurling a bit from your overly comfortable position to stop from falling asleep and actually participate in the conversation. 

“Because, unlike the other idiots,” Steve gives a pointed look at you and then Eddie, “We had a hunch about what was going on here. And it’s about time, by the way.” 

You think over his words for a second before you look at Eddie with sudden embarrassment, “Have you- Oh my God, have you been telling Nancy what we’ve been doing?” 

“What?” Eddie sits up straighter, looking just as panicked, “No. No, absolutely not, I-“

“What have you guys been doing?”

Both of you ignore Steve as Eddie continues on.

“-just spoke to her on the phone once or twice. But I didn’t give her any details. Have you been telling Steve what we did?” 

Steve, still being ignored, repeats himself, “What have you guys been doing?” 

“Absolutely not,” you scrunch your nose at the thought of being that honest with Steve. You loved him, truly, but not enough to tell him about those kinds of things, “I’d rather sleep in the canals than tell him.” 

“What have you guys been doing?” 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and he mockingly stabs himself, “Ouch, sweetheart.”

“Not like that,” you backtrack, but more casually as the worry of Steve and Nancy knowing the truth, “I just meant-“

Eddie interrupts with a hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “I know what you meant. I’m just fucking with you. I feel the same way with Nance.” 

“Guys?” Steve grows further impatient, “I- What the fuck did you guys do? Oh my God, is it even safe to sit on this fucking couch right now?” 

“You don’t wanna know,” you say.

“No, it isn’t,” Eddie says. 

It earns him a slap on his stomach as he leans over in laughter at the way Steve launches out of his seat.

“You guys- No. No fucking way,” Steve brushes at the back of his jeans, as if they’re contaminated, “Nope. No way. You’re just fucking with me, Munson.” 

“Am I?” 

Another slap lands on Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs harder. 

“Steve,” you turn to your friend, trying to smile sweetly, “Sit back down.” 

“No.”

“You just said you don’t believe-“ 

“We should get going,” Steve insists through his blush, “You two should take your final picture and we should get going.” 

Eddie finally stops chuckling, leaning back up and against the armrest, his ankle cross in front of your shins as he stretches his legs out and sighs, “God, you should see your face right now, Harrington.” 

Steve’s scowl deepens, “It’s not funny. Take the fucking photo so we can go.” 

You make no move to dig out your phone, because you know. You know once you take this photo, you’ll be leaving, and this will all be over. Once you step foot back into that hallway, time apart begins. Learning how to navigate this new unknown with Eddie begins. It terrifies you, it saddens you, it exhausts you. You hadn’t been prepared for this part of the night.

Even before the confessions, you hadn’t given much thought to the ending of the twenty four hours. You’d assumed it would end in bloodshed and a larger than life fight, probably before the clock even ran out. You’d never assumed it could end in laughing, inside jokes between you and Eddie, in something not only bitter but also sweet. 

“Phone, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers as he leans forward and holds out his hand with the palm up, “Before we traumatize the poor guy any further.” 

“I will wait in the car, I swear to God-“ Steve starts to protest as you finally dig your phone out of your pocket. 

You’re looking down, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze in fear of him picking up on your faint sadness, as you mumble, “Get your panties out of their twist, Steve. Jesus.” 

Eddie snorts at that, right as you pass your phone over. 

Steve doesn’t comment when you willingly tell Eddie the code to unlock your phone, or the way you let him hold it rather than you. He doesn’t comment on the arm that Eddie seems to constantly keep around you now. 

He’s doing it while he can. Cherishing being able to hold you at any capacity before you leave and the distance begins. The time apart you two agreed upon won’t be for forever, but it still kills a buried part of him that had just begun to sprout roots again. A thing made of hope that he planned to tend to this time around. 

“So, how do we wanna do this?” he asks in a strained tone, as if asking that question and throttling you two closer to the finish line physically pains him.

You hope it pains him, selfishly, because it pains you. “No idea.”

“We’ve gotta make it a good one.”

“We do.” 

Eddie suddenly lights up with an idea as his thumb sweeps across your screen, opening your photos’ app and scrolling up to the first picture you two had taken at the beginning of this night. 

“Up for a trip down nostalgia road?” he teases, wiggling his brows as he holds the phone up for you to get a clearer view of the picture.

Eddie, flipping off the camera and scowling. You, hardly smiling with a pathetic thumbs up. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding slowly. 

It’s unspoken, what happens next. The camera app is opened and Eddie returns your phone to your grasp. The two of you resituate to mimic the photo as closely as possible while Steve fiddles with some of the items on Eddie’s entertainment center. 

You stretch out your arm, put your thumb up into view, blink away any tears burning the back of your eyes. Eddie’s hand has taken position as well. 

You snap the photo before you can think too hard on it. 

“Think that’ll be the winner?” Eddie curiously asks as you immediately bring the phone close to your face, swiping to view the snapshot just taken. And when you do, with the refreshed memory of that first photo, your heart physically aches. 

Almost an identical image. At a quick glance, it’s the same Eddie and the same you from the first one. But the similarities fade the moment you look closer. Eddie isn’t scowling, not genuinely – those damn dimples are even making an appearance as his eyes were squinted up in a valiant effort to fight off the smile he wears now. And your smile, your smile, is no longer half-assed. It’s something real, something full, something even a bit sad. The same face you wear when saying goodbye to an old friend and trying to hold back any tears until their train has long since left the station. You can almost physically see your vines in this photo wrapping around the two of you, clinging so desperately to avoid any separation. Time apart. You’re regretting suggesting that now. 

It’s a cute photo. A photo of two friends, if you could call yourself and Eddie that now. 

“All done?” Steve interrupts the moment, both of you and Eddie only staring at the photo. You take a peak at him out of your peripherals, and you can see it written plainly on his face – he’s feeling all the same emotions as you. Something sad, something nostalgic, something reluctant. “Not to rush the process but… I may or may not have a hot date tonight to get ready for.” 

Eddie tears his gaze from the photo, “A hot date?”

“A hot date,” Steve nods, a boyish grin gracing his lips, “And I’m picking her up in… t-minus…” he pauses, checking his watch, “Three hours.” 

“Smart move. Charm her before I rearrange your face and all.” 

Steve throws his head back in a groan, “You two won’t be letting that go any time soon, will you?” 

“Nope,” you chime in as you swipe to open up the groupchat, not offering Steve a single glance until you’ve sent off the final addition of photo proof to the rest of your friends. You consider adding some sort of sarcastic comment, some well earned bragging and a boisterous told you so, but you don’t. 

It doesn’t feel like you’ve won. Leaving this apartment, this battleground, with all the new bruises and healed wounds you’ve acquired over the span of the twenty four hours doesn’t taste like victory. Really, it tastes like… nothing. 

There’s no victory, no solid ending for you to cling to. It’s simply ending and there’s still thousands of words you have to say to Eddie. You need more time, another twenty four hours, to fill with every single thing you never told him. More casual confessions of honesty, more hours wasted in his bed, more insignificant bickering to partake in. It’s all on your tongue and desperate for attention, and yet, you know you can’t succumb to it. 

You have to go. It’s the last thing you want to do, but you have to. 

Steve checks his phone when it buzzes with the notification of your message you sent and opens his mouth, no doubt about to comment on your lack of words with the message, but you’re already standing. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. You need to get it over with, get out of this apartment before you decide you’d rather sink right into these couch cushions and decay just to ensure you never have to really leave. 

Eddie’s quick to follow. 

“Let’s go,” you say to Steve, grabbing up your bag, not looking at Eddie at the risk of losing all composure. 

Neither boy fights you, following you right up to the front door. Steve leads, opening it back up as reality slams you in the chest. As if there’s an invisible barrier here, and you know that in crossing it, you’ll be leaving a piece of yourself behind in apartment 2C. 

Leaving now is not leaving forever. 

But it sure does feel like it. 

Steve awkwardly looks over your shoulder at Eddie, some silent communication you only see his half of as he shrugs and does a timid wave, turning to leave. 

One foot hangs midair, your toes beginning to push through that barrier, when Eddie grabs you. 

“Hey,” he breathes as he wraps his fingers around your bicep, forcing you to turn to face him. You let him, your body moving to his accord but your eyes still not meeting his, “You good?” 

You take a deep breath in through your nose, “Me? Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. I’m… I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive?”

“Will you look at me, then?” 

Reluctantly, so very reluctantly, your eyes meet his. Big, brown doe eyes. This close to them, you can see the way they shine to match yours. You both probably look insane to Steve right now, but you don’t care. Between the sleep deprivation and all the emotions you’ve had to experience over the last day, the tears are well earned.

You almost reach out and kiss him. You almost press up onto your toes and put your lips on his, almost pour every emotion you’re feeling in the moment into a far from innocent peck. 

But you don’t.

“We did it,” you croak blandly, “We won the bet.” 

As if the Universe is screaming in agreement, you can hear a chime in the distance signifying the hour. Probably the church you recall passing in the middle of the night when the two of you had ventured off to the parking garage. It almost feels as if it’s mocking you. 

“We did it,” he echoes as his grip on your bicep loosens. You expect him to let it fall back to his side, nearly begging out loud for him to retract his touch from you so you don’t do something stupid like stay.

You swallow down thick emotions, just like molasses, “I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

Time. You two needed time apart. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, as he does the one thing you had somehow hoped he wouldn’t yet yearned for ardently – the hand that had wrapped around your arm now cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin so softly, you nearly melt in his doorway, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” 

It doesn’t taste like victory, yet it doesn’t taste quite like loss. It’s bittersweet. 

You still don’t kiss him. And he doesn’t kiss you, even as his touch against your cheek lingers so heavily before he pulls away. 

You cross the barrier and find you were right. You feel that piece of you tear off and flutter to the ground, and you begin to wonder when you’ll have the chance to come back and reclaim not just it, but Eddie.

—

Steve didn’t speak much on the drive back to your dorm, and you’re sort of grateful. 

If you were a good friend, you’d ask more about his date. You’d get him giddy as he spills the details about this girl and his plans for the night, chastise and tease him all in good fun. You’d be smiling and making plans for coffee tomorrow morning so he could tell you all about how the date went. 

But you’re not a good friend.

You sit in your silence the entire drive, and you pick at your nails, and you selfishly stay focused on Eddie. On all of your own qualms and all your own issues, worrying about what comes next and already feeling your chest tighten the moment you start to think about when see you around will come.

The two of you never discussed that, did you? There was no discussion of just how much time was needed apart. 

Steve shifts the car into park in the west lot, right outside your building, “Alright, stop making your cuticles bleed for two seconds and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Your hands pause exactly as he requests, caught red-handed. “Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Something’s obviously wrong. I told you to go get him – and yet, he’s still not your boyfriend.” 

“It’s complicated,” your voice finally breaks. There’s no tears this time, just confusion and desperation clawing at your throat. 

Because, was it complicated? Was it really?

The last year was what had been complicated. All the pretending and the fights and the tension. All the false beliefs and all the lies overlapping with one another. That was complicated. But this? The feelings you harbored and finally acknowledged for the boy you just left behind? 

That wasn’t really complicated. 

And Steve knows this, you can hear it in his sigh, “I think that’s the issue.” 

“What?” you turn your head towards him, scrunch your brows, even your breathing and try to shoo away the image of Eddie’s wet eyes. 

You wish you would have kissed him. 

“Look, i just think you two keep making things complicated when they should be simple-” 

You didn’t want to hear it. Childish as it might be, you do not want to have to hear this speech. Because you know Steve’s right.

“I’ll see you later, Steve.”

“Wait-”

You don’t wait. You slam the door in his face once you’ve got your footing outside of his car, truly earning your title of bad friend.

Awful. You weren’t just a bad friend, you were an awful friend. 

And yet you can’t think on it, leaving it be until you had the time to properly dwell on how you’d apologize later. All you care about now is getting inside your dorm, moping and being miserable on your own. Your strides are longer and faster than they were even when you’d backtracked to Eddie’s apartment, determined to get behind closed doors and to properly mourn all that had been gained and all that had been lost in the last twenty four hours. 

Twenty four hours ago, you were reluctant to even step foot in Eddie’s apartment. And now, it’s the only place you really want to be. 

Luck refuses to be on your side as you slam into your dorm room, sweaty and tired and just fucking emotional, only to find your roommate there. There will be no dramatic crying, no cinematic scene with your back pressed to the door as you fight back sobs, it seems. 

“You look rough,” is all she notes, sparing you a second glance before she returns to whatever she was tasking on at her desk. Her makeup, you think.

Good. Maybe she’ll be heading out, leaving you to suffer alone like you wanted. 

“Yeah,” is all you can answer her as the door clicks shut behind you. 

Rough’s a good way to put it. 

“Think you’ll be here tonight?” she asks, still distracted, “Troy and I are hanging out today – he spent the night here last night, by the way – and if you’re gone again, I was thinking about inviting him back over. Only if you’re cool with it, or already have plans, though. Our RA has this final and I didn’t even have to sneak him in last night-”

She continues on her rambles, never looking your way as you drop your bag onto your bed, and quickly lift yourself to lay right next to it. 

Normal. You were having to go back to fucking normal. Your worries were no longer revolving around Eddie or making it through the next hour, no longer preoccupied with keeping your friends up to date in order to ensure a payout of five hundred dollars – now, you just had to worry about boys named Troy and possible room checks by your RA. Finals to be taken, essays to be finished, shifts to be covered at the diner so you’d have enough cash to go out with your friends next weekend. 

You should be relieved. But it all just feels impossibly heavy. 

Your roommate catches on quickly, and when you only reply to let her know you’ll be here tonight, she stops talking. She focuses on finishing her makeup and gathering her things, hardly even offering you a goodbye as you shift to curl up more comfortably in the center of your mattress. 

You should also know better than what you decide to do next. You can’t help it, though, as you tug your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. You don’t listen to the voice inside your head that screams stop as you click on your photos’ app. Ignore the animal inside that whines as you scroll, and you click on the very first photo of you and Eddie. 

It’s painful, but you have nothing better to do in your solitude. You don’t linger on the first photo too long, still being fresh in your mind, before quickly swiping along. 

The set of matching photos you and Eddie took of one another, black and white socks covering touching toes visible in each one. You nearly laugh at the Darth Vader figurine both of you took turns holding. You nearly cry when you realize you were, in fact, smiling in your photo. A small one, a forced one, but there nonetheless. 

The selfie from the bar, your amaretto sour and Eddie’s whiskey & coke lifted towards the camera. The way both of you had tried to look annoyed, over exaggerated and furrowed brows paired with pouting lips. Your thumb swipes subconsciously over the photo for a second too long, and you’re startled when you realized it was a live photo. The moment after the photo was taken, Eddie’s eyes had moved to look at you. And in that live photo, you watched every ounce of annoyance evaporate. Leaving behind something you recognized now. Leaving behind eyes sparkling with a brief glimpse of adoration. 

There’s something else you better recognize now in the next photo. The picture you’d taken when Eddie had locked himself into his room, only opening up long enough to insist you took the photo, the one that guaranteed you your money. You had been right – there was a flood of regret on his face. You hadn’t imagined it. But you had also been wrong; he was never looking at your own rotted vines and mourning them; he was looking at his own, tethered and shredded, regretting that he had ever taken an axe to them. You don’t press down to see this live photo. You don’t want to witness that door slamming in your face again. 

The two photos taken in his bed. The one in which both your faces are scrunched from the flash, in which you can see the physical wall between you two.  And the one in the dark, where you both wear tired smiles, unaware of the night to come.

The photo on the bike, a helmet mostly covering your blushing cheeks, but not Eddie’s. 

The photo from the parking garage, meant just for you two. 

The photos from Betty’s. You don’t linger on the one of you; you do linger on the one of him. 

Each swipe only makes your heart ache more viciously, painful and sharp reminders of the night you had had. You don’t have to press down on another single photo to witness the live outplay of it – each memory is running through your mind in real time as you retrace your steps of the night. Twenty four hours, twenty four steps. With each photo, you watch yourself grow more relaxed, watch smiles come easier without your awareness and finally pinpoint all the care Eddie had been looking at you with the entire time. 

You notice the lack of photos from the last few hours. You nearly scorn yourself for it, but there had been no time. There was no time for memories frozen in time amongst all that hard honesty and those sacrilegious revelations.

Except there was one more moment in time frozen for you. You’re quick to exit the photo app finally, leaving behind that picture of Eddie with full cheeks only to open up your text messages.

Your text thread with him. Filled to the brim with bad pastry jokes and underlying need. You remember that urgent want to comfort him, to remind him he was enough. To erase all the hurt and all the old scars caused by a life from before your time with him you still hadn’t become fully privy to. 

You’re still rereading the last message, bet you wouldn’t say that to my face, when suddenly a new message appears. 

EDDIE: Make it home okay? 

Space and time. They are the last things you want, that you need from him right now. 

YOU: yep. my roommate just left. 

EDDIE: Is your dorm bed as comfortable as you remember? 

YOU: like sleeping on a cloud. 

You wish you were still in his bed. You wish you were back at the beginning, with him rather than all alone. 

EDDIE: Oh shit, you’re trying to sleep? Sorry

EDDIE: I’ll stop bothering you and leave you to it. Sweet dreams. 

No, you nearly scream at your phone screen, come back and bother me. Bother me for the rest of my days for all I care. 

You’d never sleep another wink if it meant having him. You remember what you told him about starting over, starting fresh. And maybe taking a much needed nap would offer that. Maybe sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time would be the smart choice, letting you awake with a clearer mind and better intentions.

But you don’t want that. The animal inside still clings to all that has happened. 

Something about that makes you brave.

YOU: i never said that, and you’re not bothering me.

EDDIE: Didn’t you say you wanted a nap earlier?

YOU: that was earlier. i’m wide awake now. 

An internal battle continues to take place. Your mind whispers liar, knowing damn well that if you put down the phone and turned your cheek to bury into your pillow, you’d be out like a light within seconds. 

EDDIE: Ah. I see. 

You fiddle with your thumbs for a second, stomach churning as you try to come up with a response to keep the conversation going. Technically, when you had said the two of you needed time apart after all that had happened, it should have meant interactions like this as well. Texting each other was not offering each other space.

But he’d started it. That was on him.

YOU: do you remember what i said about space? and starting over? 

EDDIE: I do. I’m not very good with giving you space, it seems. 

YOU: well, considering you’re on the other side of town, i’d say we’ve got the physical sense of space down. 

There’s a pause in his replies that causes you to sit up. A falter. You curse him for not having a smartphone as well, for not having the privilege of being notified whether he was just taking his time typing or if he had put the phone down. You really hoped it was the former, practically wished upon every star that that was what was happening. You hoped he was glued to his phone as you were yours. 

Maybe he still had that photo he’d taken a few hours ago, the one you swore you’d heard him take as you dozed off. Maybe he was still staring at it like you had done with all of your photos. 

EDDIE: About that…

You stare at the message, the hidden meaning behind it completely lost on you. 

YOU: About what? 

EDDIE: I’m not home right now. 

Your heart clenches. 

YOU: You’re not?

EDDIE: I’m not. 

YOU: Eddie, where the hell are you right now?

Your mind reels with all the possible choices. He could be at the bar, at the parking garage, at Nancy’s place. He could be anywhere. 

But then he only sends a picture in response, and you know where he is. 

You nearly topple into three other students from how you sprint down the hallway. You don’t even grab your key to your dorm room, skipping the elevators and nearly throwing yourself down the few flights of stairs in haste. You don’t care how your lungs cry out, you don’t care how your thighs burn, you don’t care how your shoulder aches from how roughly you slam open that front door of the building. You don’t care about the strange looks you get on your way out. You don’t care about the odd angle you twisted your ankle in on that last step. 

The only thing you care about is the boy standing there, helmet off and balanced on the seat of his parked motorcycle that he leans on, arms crossed as his eyes light up at the erratic sight of you. 

You don’t even check for any traffic in the parking lot as you make your way to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he calls out once you’re close enough to hear him, “I know we said give it time and shit, but you left, and I just-” 

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. 

When you make it to Eddie, you’re in no business to carry anymore regret with you. This time, you don’t just yearn to kiss him, to wrap your arms around him, to pour out all those emotions you were feeling across tongues. 

You do it. You kiss him, uncaring for all the stares of fellow students. He nearly falls backwards into his bike from the force of you colliding against him, but he’s quick to catch himself as his hands find your waist. 

“You-” you pull back, gasping a bit to start to scold him before his lips follow and interrupt you, “Fucking-” Push and pull. You retreat, and he follows, “Idiot.” 

His hands squeeze around you, tugging you a stumbling step closer so that your chests are flushed against one another.

“I am,” he mumbles against your lip, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheek as he refuses to let anymore distance be put between the two of you, “I am a fucking idiot. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing.” 

His hands cradle your face and he kisses you this time, reaffirming that he felt everything you had. All those words you hadn’t said, all his own admissions he’d withheld, spill between clashing teeth and eager lips. He takes your breath away, shamelessly, greedily. And you let him. You offer all the air that’s left in your lungs up to him on a silver platter. 

When the two of you finally pull apart, eyes opening wide and foreheads pressing tightly to one another, he’s grinning like a fool. 

“So, I had a better idea than time apart,” he murmurs, “What if we just… start over?” 

“Start over?” you question wearily. 

He nods, “Yeah. Just… Just pretend this last year and all our bullshit didn’t happen. Start fresh. Let me not be a massive dick this time.” 

His hands drop from your face as he takes a step back, taking you in fully. You want to shy under his gaze, but instead you can only melt. His fondness is a warmth like no other, capturing you by the crown of your head and pouring down over you in waves. 

“Okay,” you finally agree, feeling your own cheeks spread and ache in a lovesick smile. Coming home, that’s what this felt like. “Okay, we can start over.” 

“Great,” the homecoming warmth only spreads as he straightens up his posture. A very serious look overcomes his face, laced with determination for a brief second until he relaxes it into a friendly smile, doleful eyes meeting yours as every single flower he had ever planted in your chest blooms like a spring morning. He sticks his hand out, nearly making you snort, “Hi, I’m Eddie.” 

You can’t help it. His front door is open, a warm glow within welcoming you. 

You ignore his hand entirely as you impulsively reach up and interlock your fingers at the nape of his neck, tugging him into you for another kiss. 

He pulls back far too soon for your liking, but his hands have also found their spot against the small of your back, “Do you greet all the new strangers you meet like this?” 

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” 

He pulls you back in for a chaste peck, and it tastes like home. 

“I like you,” you whisper into the limited space between the two of you, “I mean it. I like you so fucking much, Edward Munson.” 

He grins, cracking your chest wide open with hope, “The feeling’s mutual.”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

[creatorofarcadia]

I’m aware that I’m definitely Jon Sims biased when I listen to TMA, he’s my favourite, so naturally it’s much easier for me to empathise with him. But every time I re-listen (I’ve lost count now but I think I’ve done 6?), I always legitimately try to let go of my bias and really consider the perspective of characters I instinctively disagree with. Something I’ve noticed is that, the one moment that always gets me, that I can never look past or empathise with, is Basira and Georgie’s response to Jon waking up in MAG 122.

It’s funny because I don’t think it is supposed to be some character defining moment for either of them and (maybe I’ve just missed it because I’m not super fandom active) I’ve never really heard anybody else talk about this. But the way they respond to him has always REALLY rubbed me wrong. Because I get it, they’re concerned about how much ‘Jon’ is really left inside the person sat in bed, but Jesus fuck. This guy wakes up after, as far as you know at the time, sacrificing himself to successfully save billions of people and the first thing you say is ‘no it’s not good you woke up actually’ - like damn he’s been conscious for 10 SECONDS could this not wait until later? Could you first idk, thank him? Say your glad to see your friend is still alive and save the ‘are you human?’ conversation for after he’s had a cuppa maybe?

The first thing you say to someone who’s woken up from a coma being ‘it’s not good you woke up’ just seems needlessly fucking cruel, regardless of how I attempt to spin it in my mind. And unless you’re literally talking to Satan the correct response to “Disappointed to see me alive?” is unequivocally NO not “We can deal with it later”. 

Overall, there’s a difference between caution and callousness, and while I understand the desire to be cautious with Jon as how much of his humanity remains is unclear, this moment always tipped into callousness for me in a way I struggle to empathise with even when I really try. 

[steddieas-shegoes]

Annie always knew there would come a day where Eddie got in bigger trouble than his charm could get him out of. She just didn’t think it’d be false murder accusations.

The explanation Hopper, who shouldn’t even be alive, gave her and Wayne seemed ludicrous at best, but who was she to argue with the Chief of Police if it meant her baby boy would avoid prison.

It still didn’t add up, even when the kids who visited him backed it up with their own witness statements, or when Steve Harrington of all people cried while explaining that he saved their lives and everyone should be thanking him.

And she loved her boy, thought he was a gift to her and the world, but she knew that he still had some of his daddy in him and those were stronger genetics than she cared to admit out loud. Wayne silently agreed.

When Eddie woke up, he couldn’t quite talk, the bites on his face and neck causing some minor nerve damage that the doctors assured them all would heal up just fine. He listened though, always smiled the best he could when the kids came by, silently held Robin’s hand in his when she would ramble on for what felt like hours. But he got squirmy when Steve visited.

Luckily, Steve didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything about it. And maybe he didn’t think it was unusual. Eddie wasn’t exactly the type to sit still before all this. Maybe this is just what Steve expected.

Eventually, Eddie woke up and tried talking and managed to move his mouth enough to be understood. It was still a little painful, and some words were harder than others to form, but he managed. Every day got easier.

But he also got squirmier.

Annie wasn’t around as much once he could talk, had to get back to work so she could start working on replacing their clothes and maybe Eddie’s guitar. She came by every morning, made sure he had people with him all day, and then came by after her shift to have dinner with him. He didn’t get to eat anything except soft foods, but she always made sure to bring his hot sauce to make it as edible as possible.

Steve was always there when she got there.

Always.

Sitting next to Eddie’s bed, relaxed, usually talking, but sometimes just sitting in silence as Eddie read his book silently to himself.

Eddie squirmed even while reading, but only while Steve was around.

“Okay, kiddo. What the hell’s goin’ on? Is Steve makin’ you uncomfortable?”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“No! He’s great. I’m glad he visits.”

“Then why the hell can’t ya sit still when he’s here?”

Eddie looked guilty, and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel cornered. Cornered people did stupid things in her experience.

“I just have to keep trying not to hold his hand.”

Now Annie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

“You mean…?”

Eddie nodded sadly.

“Does he…?”

Eddie shook his head.

“You sure?”

Eddie sighed.

“I think Robin would’ve told me when she came out to me.”

“Hm. Or maybe she doesn’t know.”

“Yeah right. I think she knows the last time he dropped a pen on the ground. They’re ridiculous. You’ve seen them.”

Annie nodded. She had. And she’d even considered at first that they were together until she really watched Robin talk, listened to the way she referred to Steve, caught on to what she was really saying.

“Maybe Steve doesn’t even know.”

Eddie changed the subject and Annie let him. It wasn’t her business in the end, not if it wasn’t hurting Eddie, and a little crush wouldn’t kill him.

But another few days passed, the doctor gave him a date for when he’d be able to leave, and Steve was quick to offer help with bringing him home.

Of course, home right now was a motel room with iffy AC and a shower that didn’t have enough water pressure to water a plant, but the offer was nice.

“I meant home with me. Until you guys find a place. You guys can get a spare key to visit and check in. I don’t have a job right now so I’ll be home anytime I’m not volunteering.”

Annie and Wayne shared a look as Eddie silently begged them to agree.

The crush would maybe kill him after all, but he was an adult and had to be trusted with his own heart.

“Okay, but we’re coming to help get you settled.”

Steve and Eddie nodded.

Steve patted Eddie’s hand, held it for a bit longer than what one would consider strictly friendly, before excusing himself to call Joyce to make sure he could borrow the wheelchair she still had from when Jonathan broke his leg years ago.

“That was awful nice of him.”

“Don’t.”

So Annie didn’t.

“I’d say the boy’s got a crush on ya, Ed.”

Eddie glared at Wayne.

“Don’t start either.”

Wayne held his hands up, smirked, and said his goodbyes so he could head to work.

Sure enough, when it was time to bring Eddie home, Steve went above expectations. He made sure he had a wheelchair and a walker just in case Eddie was stubborn, he’d made up his guest room with fresh sheets and posters Eddie would like, even arranged for the kids to set up some of their DnD mini figures on the desk for decoration.

Annie didn’t say anything.

When she visited, Steve was always busy cooking or cleaning or taking care of Eddie or making sure the kids had rides where ever they needed to go. He was a regular old mother hen and Eddie watched it all with a fondness Annie didn’t think could be hidden.

Three weeks after he got home, she stopped by to bring Eddie a new pair of jeans she’d found at the store, the last of his size.

The house was quiet, and it was almost enough to worry her.

She slowly checked the downstairs rooms, her heart racing at the thought that something could’ve happened to both of them.

She rushed upstairs, unsure of any room except for Eddie’s designated space. She took a chance on the door on the right and immediately felt a laugh bubbling up in her chest.

Steve and Eddie were both starfished across Steve’s bed, limbs overlapping and faces smooshed close together. She could see Eddie’s hand twitching every few seconds, a new thing that came with some of the nerve damage to his arm, and he eventually bunched Steve’s shirt up in his fingers.

Steve smiled in his sleep, scooting closer and draping his arm completely over Eddie’s back.

Annie back away and slowly closed the door behind her.

When she got back to Wayne, she just handed over the $5 bill in her pocket.

“In Steve’s room?” He asked, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

“In his bed.”

“Damn. Clothes on?”

Annie smacked him on the back of the head.

“Yes! And they better stay on until I approve of Steve officially.”

“Yeah, right. Good luck preachin’ that to your son.”

“What’s that mean?”

Wayne looked over the top of the newspaper for a moment before continuing to read.

“At least neither of them can get pregnant.”

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal, Part 18

WC: 1565, Masterpost

“Here to bring me to a debrief?” Danny asks the shadow lurking in the doorway. He swears that Batman almost looks chastised at that. “It’s fine, Batman, I know how these things work.”

“The core Titans are insisting on being there, for moral support,” Batman rumbles. “If you aren’t comfortable with that, they’ll be sent away.”

Danny chuckles; that really is like them. “No, I might as well only go through it all once. Besides, that’s sweet. Can I at least take the time to put on real clothing?”

Batman narrows his eyes at Danny. “You’re still injured. Loose clothing only.”

“Gods, how does no one see what a dad you are,” Danny teases.

Batman smiles, just for a moment, before he turns to sweep over dramatically out of the room. “I’ll send in Flash with some approved clothing.”

“That better be my Flash you’re sending in!” Danny calls after Batman. When the doorway is free of the luring hero, Danny lets himself fall back against the pile of pillows.

A debrief. How is he supposed to explain any of this? So far he hasn’t been allowed to explain things, really. Part of it is that he’s spent most of the last several days asleep. When he has been awake, it’s to a rotating cast of heroes; all heroes that he was close to and knew behind the mask. With every able bodied hero busy with clean up, no one has been able to stay long. He sees Barry the most, what with the other’s leg, but even Barry is busy helping coordinate the recovery efforts.

(Danny’s also pretty sure that they’re using the chance to visit him as a way to make people take a break.)

While the heroes are with him, it’s been mostly Danny getting updated on everyone and whoever is with him getting information to update everyone else with. They won’t even let him work, but they do pass on information about his crews at least. It’s Wally who’s with him the most. Wally was there the first time Danny woke and as Danny breathed through panic attacks and to patiently reply to the endless stream of messages for Danny.

Speak of the devil… Danny’s phone chimes again.

He can’t look at it.

He hasn’t been able to look at it since the first message from Jasmine came in. Since they all remembered.

Wally hadn’t asked. He had just let Danny shake apart in his arms and has handled Danny’s phone from then on. ‘This is Danny’s boyfriend. He’s alive and will recover. He’ll contact you at a later time.’

“I thought we put that thing on silent,” Wally says with a glare at the phone as he steps into the room.

Danny makes shameless grabby hands at the clothing. “So did I. Who is it?”

Danny’s proud that his voice doesn’t shake at the question.

Maybe it’s fair that they’ve all been avoiding the big big questions. Maybe it really is obvious that he’s still only hanging on by a thread. He certainly feels less like a live wire and more like the one, stubborn fuse still humming in the circuit breaker.

He certainly feels weak.

“Jasmine again.”

Danny sucks in a staggered breath and lets it out slowly. “Just… just tell her that I’m sorry, but I can’t yet.”

Wally presses a kiss to Danny’s temple. “I’ll remind her that you’re healing too. You just worry about getting dressed.”

“What, don’t want to help out with that part?” teases Danny as he undid the tie at the base of his neck. The Watchtower might have pretty nice quality, but any medical garb was going to be a little scratchy, and Danny is glad to have it off. He’s careful with his taped over IV port as he slides on the plain white shirt and then the well worn hoodie. It has a faded Nightwing logo and smells like Wally.

Something in Danny’s chest relaxes a little as he buries his face into the fabric and it nearly makes him sob.

“Danny?”

Danny just shakes his head.

“Oh, babe, it’s okay, I’m here. I have you.” Wally tosses the phone onto the bed and wraps Danny up into a hug. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around—”

“Don’t, you were saving lives,” Danny says and tucks his face against Wally’s neck. “It’s what you needed to be doing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here now. I’ve officially been pulled off duty. My job right now is you.”

“I don’t want to take you away from anything important.”

“You aren’t. Babe, you’re why we’re all still here. Let yourself be cared for, okay? I promise if anything comes up that really needs my help I’ll go, but let me make you my priority,” Wally urges.

Danny closes his eyes. “I told myself I’d never ask that of you. I know what you are.”

“You aren’t, I’m offering. Please, babe, let me make you my priority.”

He wants to. Gods does he want to. He wants to go back home to their apartment and have Wally with him and just let the other take care of everything, just for a little bit, just until it stopped feeling like his insides were hollow. Just until he could be okay enough to lie and say that he was fine.

Just until then.

“Okay. I— yeah, okay. I think I need that right now,” Danny manages to admit.

“Thank you,” Wally whispers like it was Danny doing him the great service. “First act, let’s get you out of those pants.”

“You cad,” Danny gasps dramatically.

Wally rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now so Danny counts it as a win. “And get you into the sweatpants.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to debrief in sweats,” Danny says as he lets Wally help him finish changing. He’s a little less balanced in his feet than he’d like to be.

Okay, a lot less balanced.

Wally doesn’t even let him walk to the debrief, instead he insists on pushing Danny there in a wheelchair. Danny knows there’s no shame in needing a wheelchair, but it doesn’t help him be less frustrated at the way he feels weak down to his bones. Hell, he feels weak down to is core. At least he gets to move himself to a regular chair once they’re inside the conference room.

"Thank you for being willing to do this, Danny,” Wonder Woman says. She’s leaning forward, arms resting on the table, and offering a smile. At the table is a selection of other top tier members: Batman, Superman, a Green Lantern (Hal Jordan in this case), John Constantine, Zatanna, and, right next to Danny, Barry.

The Titans are off to the side, slightly behind the Dark members, in chairs that were obviously dragged into the room. Garfield gives Danny an enthusiastic thumbs up that almost makes him laugh.

“Of course. I get why there are questions,” Danny says instead.

“There are,” Superman agreed. “Now, as you aren’t a Justice League member and are in no way under any sort of investigation, this is going to be a bit informal. We’re just trying to make sure our report on recent events are as clear as possible.”

Danny huffs out a breath of air. His gaze darts over to Wally before dropping. “It’s a big more than that, isn’t it?”

“Kid?” Barry asks gently.

“You all want to know what I am, which is fair. If I could have, I would have told you.” Danny looks back at Wally again and gives a half hearted smile. “Sorry I couldn’t.”

“Why couldn’t you?” Batman asks, though the rumble of words isn’t unkind.

A sour smile twists Danny’s lips. “Curses are like that. Aren't they, Laughing Magician?” Danny hears Constantine and sucks in a breath and steels himself to look up at him. “How much do you know about her? About Desiree?”

Constantine shakes his head. “Not much. It’s not wise to go digging into the affairs of a member of the Infinite Realms, even an ended one.”

“Speak normal for the rest of us,” Hal says. “A who of what?”

“Infinite realms. That means a sodding ghost,” Constantine snaps.

Barry scoffs. “Ghost’s aren’t real.”

“Boo,” Danny replies. His smile is slightly too wide.

“Not funny, Danny.”

Danny shrugs. “Not trying to be. I’m half ghost.”

“How is someone half ghost?” Hal asks.

“I’m like Schrödinger’s Cat,” Danny explains. He can’t help for for his gaze to flick over to where the Titans are sitting and find Wally’s eyes. “I’m still in the box, basically. I’m half alive and half dead. Both and neither. A balance.”

“A myth.” Constantine leans forward. He taps the butt of his unlit cigarette against the table. “Or so we always thought. You telling me that you’re a halfa?”

The question pulls Danny’s focus back to the main table of heroes. “Yep. One of three. Me, my godfather, and my clone.”

Superman clears his throat. “Ah, your clone?”

Danny just gives another shrug. “Shit gets weird when you’re a teenage vigilante.”

“Danny,” Batman says, and Danny can’t help but smile again because the man is clearly one step away from pinching the bridge of his nose like he does as Bruce when one of his children is driving him mad. “Start from the beginning. State your name for the record.”

“Danny Jasper Fenton.”

---

AN: Vote was in favor of splitting it up. I've got a chunk of the next part written, so hopefully I can get it finished up next week! Sorry if there are lots of issues, words and me are struggling atm.

Poor Danny is really struggling with things as his world has once again changed. And what will everyone think of him now...?

I no longer tag, instead you can subscribe to the masterpost.

[deadsetobsessions]

He doesn’t know how they got here, but Jason’s thankful for it. It’s not often that he speaks to Cass, when Jason’s passions are words and righteous murder and Cass’s passions are distinctly not that, but when they do speak, they manage to get along. Somehow.

“So, why don’t you kill?” Jason leans back on the couch, his favorite mug filled with Alfred’s hot chocolate.

Cass is curled against the arm of the sofa. She looks at him, head tilted. Jason knows she’s reading him, but he’s not sure what she’s finding. It’s humbling, and intimidating, to know she sees more than what he allows to show.

“I can see,” she says. “That one time… I killed. I saw. Pain. Fear. Desp- des- not wanting to die.”

“Desperation?”

Cass nods. One of her fingers fiddle with the material of the couch. Jason knows she’s allowing him to see the motion. He knows it’s her silent way of showing him trust.

“There is more. To dying. Like… like they see their lives-They think- remembers. Loves. Their life- regret, love, everything. It goes through-” Cass taps her temple.

“Their lives are flashing through their heads?”

“Yes. Good. Bad. Everything. I see.” Quieter, Cass adds “I know. I know them, then. I killed a life that I know. They love. Everyone, have something they love. I kill, I kill that love.”

“That must suck.”

Cass leans back. She nods, neck releasing their tension and eyes less hunted, more accepting.

“Yes. I don’t want to- I don’t want to be the end.” Cass swivels her shoulders towards him, now. “Why… why do you?”

“Me?” Jason… hasn’t thought about it for a while, nor too deeply. But this is Cass. And her honesty deserves an honest reply. “I kill because some people shouldn’t be left alive to hurt and kill others”

“Not about… Bruce?”

Jason took a sip of his hot chocolate. Cass settled more into the couch, her eyes clear and watchful.

“It used to be,” he admitted. “About him, I mean. It used to be about vengeance. But then I came back to Crime Alley, and then I saw the kids getting hurt instead of being protected. They’re innocent. And then, it wasn’t about Bruce anymore. Killing is just the means to an end now, for me.”

“Do you- not regret?” She makes a gesture at his leg, where on a normal day, his holsters would be.

“I try to make sure I don’t kill people I’d regret, no. Like, you know how sometimes you guys arrest muggers?”

Cass nodded.

“Sometimes,” Jason said, remembering the days of digging through trash for food and the lingering hunger that rumbled through his younger self’s stomach. “They mug people because they’re desperate. I don’t kill those guys. But people deal to kids? Who hurt sex workers? Rapists? They’re doing irreparable harm, with full knowledge of their actions. For profit, mostly. If they’re willing to ruin lives, then they should be ready for their own to be ruined. It’s justice, for people like me.”

Cass studied him. “Justice…?”

“The only kind us Alley kids could ever appreciate. Arresting an abuser, a threat, and having that stick is for the privileged. Having that threat removed completely is relieving.”

“Can’t trust the world to be fair. But death, is fair.”

“Yeah. I think if I saw as much as you do, it’d be harder to do. But I think I’d still kill, because one person’s suffering after a life of being evil is worth the safety of so many others. To know… well, I guess I’m glad I don’t know what that’s like.”

“I see.”

“I know you do,” Jason grins at her. “But not killing is an act of courage too. Even if B makes it seem like it should come instinctually.”

“Yes. He does not connect, with Damian. Does not understand, fully, how hard. To unlearn.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while after that, listening to the sounds of their family clambering around in other rooms.

“Hey, Cass?”

Cass turned back to him.

“I would kill David Cain for you.”

He would. It makes the Pit seethe when he thinks about how much David Cain and Lady Shiva hurt Cass for her to get this insanely good at reading people. He hopes she sees the pure honesty and sincerity he feels at that declaration

Cass puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezed once. Twice.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No objections?”

“… would not feel too bad.”

Jason snorted.

“Yeah. You and me both.”

He doesn’t know how they got here, but he’s thankful for it anyways, because he understands his sister just that much more now.

[larkspurglove]

OH MY GODDD THE NEW TRAILBLAZE MISSION IT’S SO GOOD BUT ALSO NONE OF MY THOUGHTS ARE COHERENT AAAAA

Major spoilers for 2.1 ahead!!!!

So first off to the people that voted for Aventurine and Sunday in this poll how does it feel to be right?

ANYWAY THAT WHOLE ENDING WAS FUCKING INSANEEEE, Aventurine walking INTO the Nihility????? And he might not ever come back???? Acheron showing off the true extent of her emanator powers?????? Gallagher being the twist villain and also somehow in control of Something Unto Death???? What the fuck?!

My brain is a mess right now I’m just rotating all of the story in my brain and a hundred miles a minute. The next stuff is just going to be me word vomiting my reaction to stuff in a vaguely chronological order.

First off I LOVEEE how Aventurine-focused the Trailblaze mission was. I was kind of assuming it would be a 50/50 split between focusing on Acheron and focusing on Aventurine but it seems like they’re saving Acheron’s backstory for 2.2 or 2.3.

The little appearance of Boothill??? And how he immediately threatens violence?????? Just a silly guy I can’t wait for him in 2.2 I wanna see them fight. Also I wonder if Constance is making empty promises because it’s possible.

Back to Aventurine, DAMNNN I knew his backstory would be tragic but it’s even more gut wrenching than I expected. The reference in his achievements too??? ‘What do you want Sibyl?’ ‘I want to die.’ THE PROGRESSION FROM AVENTURINE STICKING WITH THIS UNTIL THE END WHERE EVEN THOUGH HE COULD POSSIBLY DIE FOR REAL YET HE DECIDES FO CONTINUE FORWARD BECAUSE EVEN IF WE’RE BORN TO DIE THERE’S A POINT IN LIVING LIFE AND PREPARING FOR THAT INEVITABILITY???? OH MY GOD.

Sunday’s also a scary dude. Maybe being an emanator does that to people but when he did that Harmony mindfuckery on Aventurine I was almost certain that he was going to die because of that. I was also SO pissed at Ratio for selling Aventurine out only to learn they were actually double crossing SUNDAY was insane. I’m glad he finally got to be angry about Robin’s death towards the end though, most of the downtime between 2.0 and 2.1 has been me wondering ‘man his sister just died why doesn’t he feel more distressed.’

Ngl I’m probably gonna dedicate a whole post to Aventurine in this update because 90% of the time I was playing the quest I was either thirsting over him, internally sobbing for him, thinking he was gonna die, or waiting to get back to his POV.

Gallagher is one hell of an enigma because Sunday implies that he’s made up of different ‘aspects’ of each Family member who’s died over however long the dreamscape deaths have been happening, yet he has a past with Siobhan and apparently knew Mikhail??? Like what the fuck????? How long has this been going on????

(Edit: so the use of ‘enigma’ was NOT a pun, when I played the trailblaze quest someone goofed up and forgot to add the line where Sunday calls Gallagher a follower of The Enigmata. Yeah that’s a pretty big lore drop to forget to add.)

I do wish it was foreshadowed slightly better though because the most we get is him being very vaguely sad about his past and also like two people going ‘who the hell is Gallagher.’

One thing I didn’t expect to happen was for a ‘Sam is Firefly’ reveal. Like I had seen the leaks before (not out of my own will sadly) and kind of expected for it to be a 2.2 reveal. Either way yayyyy Firefly is alive!!!

I’m sad that we didn’t really have an Acheron and Welt team up, or at least that we didn’t see more of it. It was kind of hyped up to be a whole B-plot but turned out to only be a few scenes. I’m not complaining because we get a little teeny bit of Welt characterisation but I’m still sad.

I like how Sparkle kind of just shows up to either be a nuisance or a conveniently timed piece to move the plot forward. It’s very fitting with being a Masked Fool.

There’s a lot more I want to scream about but it’s all Aventurine related and I’m gonna save it for its own dedicated post.

2.1 is so fucking good 2.2 and 2.3 better stick the landing.