#only good thing vicky won

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

fuck filmfare all my homies hate filmfare

[urhoneycombwitch]

I know what they call you.

You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you. shy!reader

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous. Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

wc: 11k

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after. 

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music. 

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm. 

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways. 

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask. 

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him. 

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return. 

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me. 

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm. 

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot. 

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house. 

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids. 

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of. 

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again. 

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty. 

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair. 

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke. 

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it. 

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code. 

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter. 

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive. 

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily. 

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending.  “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out. 

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them. 

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I���d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in. 

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it. 

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom. 

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth. 

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits. 

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring. 

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence. 

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music. 

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around. 

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows. 

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic. 

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms. 

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate. 

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart. 

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down. 

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement. 

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?” 

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard. 

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs. 

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands. 

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel. 

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves. 

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own. 

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks. 

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form. 

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours. 

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp. 

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch. 

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights. 

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown. 

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you. 

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him. 

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation. 

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam. 

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie. 

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders. 

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh. 

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,” 

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips. 

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao

[ningvory]

love & basketball — yu jimin

𝜗𝜚ㅤ: gp!basketball player karina x cheerleader!reader

𝜗𝜚ㅤ: your girlfriend, yu jimin, the basketball captain on the school, wins the game for the team. now she wants to celebrate the win with her favorite cheerleader captain.

𝜗𝜚ㅤ: word count: 2.5k

CW: lots of fluff, smut, college au, unprotected sex (no no!) oral (r.receiving), kissing, soft sex (wow that’s a first), kissing, creampie, mating press, teasing, reader blacks out for a sec, squirting, cum eating, praise, pet names

a/n: this took wayy longer than expected so now it’s considered a 1.6k special… thank you all so much for 1.6k!! special thanks to my favorite basketball player @hearts-4-vicky cuz idk a thing about basketball <33

the cheers of the crowd echoed in the gymnasium as the home teams leader, your girlfriend slam dunked on the net before her teammates surrounded her with excitement. karina had just put the team way ahead of the opposing team.

you’re exhausted from all the cheering you’ve been doing for the entire game but, you couldn’t fight the adoring smile that appeared on your face. in complete awe while watching your girlfriend on the court before you called out the next cheer with your cheering voice.

she’s been the captain of the team ever since freshman year and now the two of you are seniors of your university. she’s very versatile and could play basically all the roles if needed. she always made sure her members had the right form, the right attitude when it’s time to practice, that they communicate, and etc. her motto was ‘you came here to practice, come to practice with a good attitude and leave that other shit at the door.’

whenever you had your offdays you would come by and watch their practices, and karina couldn’t help but show you off to her teammates. but she always let them know who you belonged to. sometimes even after practice she would still be practicing and vise versa.

it was a bit cliche that you happen to be the cheerleading captain and you’re dating the basketball captain of your university, sounds like you’re living straight out of a movie and that’s what people tell you.

it’s the last minute during the game and it’s a tie. the crowd is tense, anticipating for one of the teams to win the final match of the season. you don’t usually get nervous during games but now you are. maybe it’s because this is one of the biggest basketball match’s in a while.

the match was closing in, 7 seconds on the clock and karina has the ball in her hands before she’s shooting the ball in the air behind the three-point line. the crowd roars in cheers and excitement when the ball goes into the hoop, giving the home team 3 points, wining the game by 46-43 points.

you sprinted over to the court, excited screams and squeals leave your mouth while you embrace her with a hug. she quickly embraced you as well and spinning you around.

“jiminie baby—you did a-amazing!” you huff out between kisses and giggles, after every game she always does this and you know you’ve won in life.

karina pulls back, hands falling down to meet your waist, “i always do good with the best cheerleader cheering me on,” she smirks before she’s placing a kiss to your lips.

you can’t help but let out a giggle and lightly hitting her shoulder, “y’know i cheer for the whole team, not just you,” you say before you stand up on your toes and pressing a soft kiss to her plump lips.

she chuckles into the kiss before she’s bringing her hands to cup your face. “it only says that on papers baby, me and you both know that,” she winks before she’s eying your body up and down. still in the short green and white skirt and the matching green and white top.

you quickly notice before you stare right at her with a smirk, “my eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

your little moment is cut short, because her teammates and your fellow cheerleaders are soon surrounding you all and cheering.

the once filled stadium is now closed down for the day and the night has grown calm and quiet. the players and the cheerleaders were in the locker rooms getting all their stuff packed so they can make their way back to their dorm rooms or apartments, it was late and most of them were exhausted.

you two were the first to get ready and karina just couldn’t take her eyes off you. she’s carrying her bag on her shoulder and leading you outside, leaving you no room to protest.

“hey—baby—what’s goin—,” you protest when she pushes you to the wall but your silenced when she takes your hand and places it on her clothed dick, hardened under your hands.

but before anything got sensual, the locker door flys open and her teammates walk out, yours walking right behind.

“ohh~ someone’s getting fucked good tonight!” karina’s teammate giselle, teases the two of you. she shamelessly checks you out, her gaze real focused on your ass in your short skirt.

you two can’t help but laugh at her, it’s always been in her nature to joke like that and plus, she’s the school’s fuck girl. those who’ve been fucked by her says she can really please a girl with that dick of hers but she’s not someone whose looking for a long term relationship.

“shut up, gi,” karina lightly hits her shorter teammate with a laugh before she’s picking her bag back up. luckily she’s wearing loose pants so no one can really notice her boner unless they stare long enough.

the walk back to the car was always you favorite part of the night. you two walk next to eachother, warm hands holding her colder ones. you can't help but daydream and remember the first time you both met, a smile always paints your face thinking about the memories.

—

the first time you met, karina was actually a loser. hard to believe with the kindness and the beauty she has. she would always sit in the back of the class, one airpod in her ear. but you, you were the it girl of the university. no one couldn’t tell you that you weren’t that girl anyways, you were great in academics, being a fashion designer and as well as the cheerleading captain, and of course you’re pretty.

you were actually thrilled that you were sharing a dorm with another girl, hopefully being able to help her if she had a struggle adjusting, after all this was the first year of uni for you both.

but on the other hand, many thoughts filled karina’s mind. she really hated the fact that she had to be forced to spend years with another person she’s never even met before. she just hoped her roommate was a nice person.

she was starting to overthink, something that she hated as well. she decided to entertain herself to distract herself from all the nervous thoughts that flooded her mind. she went over to the bathroom, already claming her sink. turning on the water before she cups her hands to get the water and splashing her face with cold water, calming herself down which worked. she began walking back to her room until she heard a voice.

“hi! you must be my roomie, nice to meet you.” your voice echoed, making karina turn around to the source of the sound. there was a girl standing with a few of her luggage, her beauty was breath taking.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. i’m y/n!” you softly said, a cute smile on your face.

karina slightly looked down to see your extended arm and an opened hand with freshly painted nails, “hi…i’m karina! nice to meet you, y/n,” her face lifted up into a smile, reaching to meet your hand. her slightly cold hands felt warm from your soft warm hands.

—

that was the first interaction you ever made. she was a sweetheart from the very beginning, you asked her was her hobbies were and it actually surprised you that she said she really loved basketball. so you told her after school that you wanted to see her hoop.

per usual at the public basketball courts, there were people already playing when you two got there. the two of you watched as one of the teams were struggling to communicate with eachother. really just yelling and arguing more than working together, this caused karina to let out an angry sigh. the main thing about basketball was that it was a team sport, communication is key to the whole game.

just when things were about to get violent, karina stepped in. breaking up the argument with the two girls that were about to throw hands.

just after that, karina joined their team after acting like the captain of the group and getting the team back together. you watched how she passed the ball to her teammates. she set up every opportunity for the team to score much more easily, and communicating with her team. she wasn’t much of a talker so it surprised you how she acted like a different person on the court.

the game ended with karina’s team winning, you were amazed at her talent and passion for the sport you just had to get her to tryout for the official team. from that point on, you two had grew closer and closer, eventually she told you to refer to her by jimin. karina was a name she preferred for people who didn’t know her like that.

—

“what’s got’cha thinkin’ baby?” you girlfriend teased, noticing that you were daydreaming for a awfully long time. you hadn’t realized that you made it to the car.

“remembering the first moments we had together, we’ve grown so far,” you giggled. hugging the taller girl and staring into her eyes with adoration.

she didn’t say anything but smile back at you, cupping your face and kissing your forehead before opening the car door for you to get in.

the car ride was mostly quiet, the radio playing whatever was trendy while jimin drove back to your shared apartment with her hand resting comfortably on your plush thigh.

when the two of you arrived, she opened the door for you to get out the car before closing it and locking it. you both walked up the apartment stairs, hand in hand. when you both made it to the shared apartment, she opened the door for you once again.

once the door was locked, all the bags she was carrying dropped to the floor with a thud, she pulled you to her room and laid you down on her soft bed. you two continued what was started earlier with her ontop of you. your hands were all over her and vise vera, the two of you sloppily made out. soft moans filling the room from the both of you. the air felt thicker, and soon the two of you parted with a gasp and the string of spit that connected your lips together broke.

“so pretty baby, so pretty cheering me on the whole night, fuck..look what you do to me baby.” she grunted. she started grinding slowly into you, making you feel her hardened cock.

when you both were intimate, usually you were the dominant. it’s like she becomes puddy in your hands and she just wants to watch your fucked-out body on top of hers riding her pretty cock.

“let me do all the work, ‘kay?” she softly says, looking down into your pretty eyes waiting for the confirmation from you.

once she got that confirmation, she immediately went to work by undressing you. she took off your uniform top, throwing it somewhere in the room. she began kissing down your pretty body while undressing you.

she slowly takes off your uniform skirt, along with your protective shorts. she sat right infront of you, spreading your legs and pulling your panties drenched in your slick off, making you whimper at the cool air hitting your pretty cunt.

jimin let out a low ‘fuck’ her mouth began to water at the sight of your drooling cunny squeezing around nothing. she needed to taste you so bad, so she dives in. kitten licking and softly sucking on your lil clit, her mind is already hazy and she’s humping her bed while moaning into your cunt.

her hands lifted your thighs and resting them on her shoulders. she sloppily makes out with your cunt, slurps and moans come from her going down on you. moans and cries rip from your chest, hands frantically moving to grip her head. the tight grip you have on her hair has her moaning into your cunt, you let out the loudest moan you ever made when she starts shaking her head and tongue fucking into your cunt.

“ah, ngh! shit!” your voice is airy and high pitched, back arching and pulling her even more closer to your cunt and grinding yourself on her face as your climax approaches: “ji—ah!—r-right there! c-cumming!”

you came all over her pretty face, she rides you through your intense orgasm. kitten licking your cum-covered cunt and planting kisses to your cunt.

"you did so well for me, sweetheart. think you're ready f'me," jimin praises you. she began to undress herself. she took off her shirt first, unclasping her bra, making her pretty tits bounce. you had the urge to just have her sit on your lap and suck on her perfect tits, that’ll be something for another day.

she stepped out of her sweats and pulled down her boxers, reaching her angry red cock that was oozing with precum.

you never got used to her size, you were gripping onto her hand for dear life as her large cock bullies your tight hole, splitting your quivering cunt in half.

jimin started littering your face in kisses before slipping her tongue inside your mouth. the way her cock slid back in forth inside your twitching walls while her cock head bullies your cervix had you moaning into her mouth and gripping on her sheets.

she pulled away from your mouth and put your legs on her shoulders before leaning in closer to you to where your foreheads are almost touching, folding your body in half and in a mating press. she angles her cock with your hole before slamming down into you.

a loud whimper rips from your chest and a airy moan comes from jimin. you were so far gone, drool began seeping out your mouth and your eyes were rolled back while she kept pounding into your tight cunt.

“shit—doin s-so well for me baby, look so pretty like this,” jimin praised you, rolling her pelvis into your cunny and pinching your nipples.

tears began blinding your vision and your moans turned into squeals when jimin’s cock hits your sweet spot. you began to shake violently before you squirted all over jimin and her bed, blacking out in the process.

the view of you below her cumming undone has her pounding quicker into your cunt, desperate for release. it didn’t help that your unconscious self began squeezing her cock, making her moan loudly before she’s filling you up with her warm seed and some spilling out from how much she came.

you don’t know long you were out for but your eyes fluttered open to being laid on top of jimin in freshly new clothes and freshly new bed sheets.

“welcome back, pretty. might’ve went a little overboard.” jimin speaks, apologizing for her behavior earlier.

“noo, s’okay i loved it,” your voice was groggy from earlier, making the two of you giggle, “i’ll get you some tea.” jimin says before slipping out of bed and going to the kitchen.

you know you’ve got the best girlfriend in the world.

[xoxo-sarah]

Pretty In Pink

Part two to Brother's Best Friend. Read that first to better understand.

↝a/n: happy new year! This fic is slightly based on a suggestion by @canmargesimpson thank you, hon. I hope you enjoy. 🩶

↝pairing: Robin Buckleyx Harrington!reader

↝warning:not proofread, angst, commitment issues, Robin not knowing how to handle her feelings, jealousy, cursing, girly-girl reader(?), Harrington! Reader,

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own "y/n" and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 1.1.24

Header credits go to @saradika 🩶

You were so gorgeous. So irritatingly gorgeous. Every color looked good on you. Every perfect hair style made Robin want to mess it up while kissing you so hard. Ever lipgloss shade was sure to be wore off by the time Robin got done with you. Was there anything that you didn't look good in?

Not that Robin was sure of. No, the only thing she was sure of was that pink was your color. You had many shirts and skirts in different shades of pink. Accessories ranging from hot pink or soft misty rose. If you were to ask Robin which was her favorite, she would, without a doubt, say the soft pink was your color. It complemented your skin, especially when you had been tanning out by the pool. Like now.

You wore said soft pink in the form of a bikini. It left little to Robin's imagination. Mentally, she was thanking you.

Your soft, tan skin was all that was in her mind. The water droplets that fell down your body when you moved in the pool was playing on loop in her head. She had never been so jealous of water before.

"I just don't know what to do." Steve kept yapping. Not that Robin was paying him any mind. Her eyes had been watching you under her sunglasses. You felt her eyes on you. Maybe that's why you were doing subtle things that would drive her crazy. Like push your arms together while leaning against the side of the pool, or push your soaking wet hair away from your face. You always wore that stupid smirk on your face. God, you were so pretty. "Robin, are you even listening?"

"Hm?" She hummed, unknowingly looking back at where he sat in the lawn chair beside her. The summer weather had Steve and you competing to get the better tan. Robin knew you won, no matter how much Steve would walk around outside without a shirt. It was starting to irritate Robin. "What?"

"I don't know why I'm even trying anymore. Nance was the one- ya know?" Oh, here we go. Robin rolled her eyes under her sunglasses. She adored him, she really did. But if she had to listen to Steve blabber about the one that got away one more time, she might just have to drown him in his own pool.

"Maybe it's time to move on." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Steve scoffed, "right, like you? How's Vickie?"

Your head shot over, your bikini top strap popping against your skin as you tried to fix it.

Since the night where you two had kissed, it was a mutual agreement that went unsaid. You two would kiss behind closed doors when given the chance, flirt with your eyes, call in the middle of the night occasionally when Steve was asleep. There weren't any labels ever mentioned. You two were just... In the moment. That said, Vickie became a sore subject after a while. Steve had found it weird that Robin suddenly stopped talking about the red-headed girl. However, he didn't let Robin lack of interest in her now mess up his agonizingly teasing.

"I wouldn't know, Steve."

"Right."

Not muttering another word, he laid back in the chair, closing his eyes.

The sound of water splashing had Robin's head turning back towards you, her body relaxing as she watched you get out of the pool. Your scowling expression didn't go good with the rest of you at the moment. As soon as you caught her eyes, you were quick to grab your towel and dart into the house, not caring about the water.

Robin was quick to go in after you, after she heard the first snore exit Steve's lips.

"Vickie, huh?"

Robin sighed, knowing where this was going. "Y/n-"

"I know what you're going to say- exactly the same as every other time." This time it was your turn to sigh. You genuinely sounded exhausted. "But I don't understand why you keep letting him tease you about her." You pouted. Your lips were so pink, so kissable..

Robin walked closer to where you stood against the counter, towel wrapped loosely around your frame. "It's the only thing he knows how to do."

Your pout deepened. "I'm serious. We can make him stop, you know. We could just tell him."

"No." She was quick to step back.

"why are you so scared to tell him? It's Steve."

Before Robin could reply, Steve slid the glass door open, looking for you two.

You all went your separate ways after that. Sure, you and Robin had had the same conversation plenty of times, but it felt different.

And it proved to be so.

Robin hadn't answered your calls, hadn't came over- making Steve meet up with her to hang out.

You were beginning to grow frustrated as it went on for weeks.

"David Bowie played a goblin king for crying out lou-" You weren't supposed to be home, atleast not this early. Steve's expression said the same when you walked in the front door. Robin, who he has been arguing with, went stiff from beside him. She looked so pretty in her Blue button up shirt that was tucked into lighter washed shorts. Blue was her color, navy or sky blue, didn't matter. What didn't sit right with you was the person sitting on the other side of her. Vickie smiled politely at you, waving. Steve cut your staring off, popping the tab off of his can drink in boredom, the smaller piece falling into the empty can, ringing through your empty head. "Thought you were out for the day?"

"Was. Got tired." You were blunt, going straight for your room after.

Before you closed your door you heard Steve try to lighten the mood from your sour attitude. "She's been in a funk lately, I don't know."

Robin watched you walk away. She couldn't help where her eyes traveled. you were wearing pink. It was slightly darker than your swimsuit, but looked just as good on you nonetheless. She was quick to excuse herself to the bathroom, making her way to your room.

She welcomed herself in your room after she got a hum in response to a quiet knock on your bedroom door. Her step into your room was quick, making sure Steve and Vickie were still content with the movie on the tv. She turned, watching you watch her. You were still looking at her, frustrated at her. She's seen you when you hated her. This was different. It almost hurt her that she hurt you.

You broke the silence, sitting on the side of your bed. A pile of laundry was sat beside you- the same pretty pale pink bikini was sat on top, making Robin's breath hitch. "I pour my heart out to you and you ignore me for weeks? You get with her."

No amount of practicing this conversation with "you" in her mirror had her ready for how your voice showed how betrayed you felt.

It wasn't fair, what Robin was doing. She knew that. It was all just so complicated. Steve was her best friend. She couldn't hurt him like that. It's all complicated.

"I know. I'm sorry." She moved to stand infront of you when you looked away.

"You brought her here." Your tears fell down your soft, pinkened cheeks.

"I know." She couldn't help her words repeating. She sunk down to her knees in front of your, taking your hand that tried to wipe your face."I'm sorry."

"Right. That's why you're in my house with her. Cause you're so sorry."

"That's not- she's not here with me. We ran into her and Steve invited her over for a movie. He's still on his kick, trying to embarrass me. You know how he is."

Robin's eyes begged you to believe her. What were you supposed to do when she looked up at you like that?

"Why have you been ignoring me?" What was she supposed to do when you looked down at her like that? She had to tell you what was eating her up, knowing you didn't understand why it was such a big deal to her.

"It's just all a lot." After she paused, you nodded. Moving over, you patted the bed for her to join you, giving her your full undivided attention. "Steve is my best friend. I don't want what we have to effect my friendship with him, you know? I don't want him to brought into our relationship when we have an argument or if we break up. I don't want you or him to be in an awkward situation at any time." A sigh fell from her lips as she looked at you, scared of how you'll react to her opening up.

"So, Steve's the problem?" You joked.

She put on a sad smile, "Pretty much."

"Robin," you hand found hers, your thumb rubbing over her skin in smoothing circles. "I like you- as I've showed in this bed. I'm willing to deal with Steve and all that if the time comes. I want you."

Her eyes had a sad twinkle in them. " I just need time."

-

Shortly after Robin came down from your room, Steve was leaving to take her and Vickie to their homes. The ride was quiet- well almost. Robin stared out of the window, Steve tried starting conversation, Vickie sat in the back, being the only one conversating with the driver. Robin didn't pay either of them any mind. Her mind was on you. How understanding you were.

It was after Steve dropped Vickie off that he started conversation with Robin, not getting silence for an answer. "Vickie, huh?"

"I'm over Vickie. Like really, really over her. Not that there's something wrong with her- there's just someone else. Or there was, I guess. I don't really know anymore."

" Wow." Steve sighed, tapping the steering wheel. "I'm surprised you didn't break and tell me about you and y/n. You surprise me more and more everyday."

Robin froze, too scared to do anything.

"You knew?" She wanted to yell. But her voice came out as a whisper. Steve just looked at her, shrugging his shoulders.

"Uh, yeah. You two aren't the best at keeping a secret. I felt like I was interrupting something every time you were in the room together."

Before Robin could stop herself, she was hitting his shoulders with all the frustration in her body. Punch after punch right to his right shoulder, same spot and everything. It was sure to be sore tomorrow.

-

Robin practically ran through the door, mindlessly making her way around the furniture.

Her eyes caught your pink nightgown, that she had made fun of you for- saying it was a granny thing to wear- as if she didn't find it adorable on you. You went further into the kitchen before she could fully make it into the kitchen. You back was turned to her, oblivious to her presence.

"I don't need time."

At lightning speed, you spun around, confused on why you heard anyone but Steve's voice in the house. You clutched at your chest for a split second before she had her lips on yours.

"Gross." Steve made his way to his room, a small smile making it's way onto his face when you couldn't see him anymore.

Pulling back, you didn't know what to say.

Robin didn't want you to say anything about what has happened, not in the minute or two, not the week she ignored you, nothing. She changed the subject, playing with your hair, looking into your eyes the same way she did when you first told her how you felt. "I really like this color on you."

"I know."

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[fountainpenguin]

"Though we both know one day there'll be blood on the floor... but which one will betray the other more?" (x)

New Fairly OddParents 'fic today!

Rated T - 6,900 words

50 Words of Dale and Vicky

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

🌃 City Lights AU

✨ More Fairly OddParents 'fics

🎲 Randomlists.com's 50-word generator

50 scene snippets about two inseparable BFFs and a string of bad decisions. Predates lemon pit torture.

OR, Dale and Vicky were friends when they were kids.

(First 5 prompts under the cut)

50 Words of Dale and Vicky Friday August 14th, 1992 - Friday April 14th, 1995 Summer of the Pink Star - Spring of the Small Sunflower

1. Balance

Even Dad raised an eyebrow at the redhead who took the mutton bustin' like a piece of sticky tape. The sheep charged through the Dimmsdale Dimmadome's mucky arena, the girl thumping up and down on its back. With every second she clung, the crowd surged higher and higher with excitement- cheering already! Did she sew her sleeves to its wool or something? 6-year-old Dale, safe behind the chute fence, braced his arms a little straighter; craned his neck a little higher.

"Whoa… She's cruisin' like a roadrunner."

One flump of a small body later, the little girl went tumbling through the muck. But she won, of course (and scored the traditional belt buckle emblem plus a set of 4 family tickets to Wave 'N Rage to prove it). The girl cheered into Dad's microphone and jumped up and down. Watching some black-haired woman and a redheaded guy (who must be her two parents) fawn over her, Dale had to wonder… if she had any siblings.

That was wicked…

Her name was Vicky Aingeal. And he was about to be the best friend she never asked for.

2. Cattle

The next time he saw her, it was at the state fair. The scruffy scarlet ponytail hadn't changed. She wolfed down a funnel cake at a table, her parents to either side (and sharing their own). Powdered sugar smeared her lips and fingers. That stuff had to be so greasy… but it looked delicious. Dale, who had already been a Bright Young Man and a Very Well-Behaved Good Boy (semi-interchangeably) for the past 5 minutes while his dad talked about cows and bovine and steer and heifers with Mr. So-'N-So (Cue laughter; they were friends), decided he'd finished standing in the hot sun, bouncing on his toes. He darted his gaze between Vicky and the back of his dad's head. Another 20 seconds flickered by. This time, Dale's stomach even growled. And if that wasn't a sign, what was?

"Dad-"

Dad didn't stop talking, but he did move his hand to Dale's shoulder and gave a quiet squeeze. Not now, said the gesture, so Dale went quiet. He played with the big brim of his hat, staring at Vicky and her funnel cake until she stopped eating and raised her head. Their eyes flicked across each other. Dale jumped and glanced away. Back to the cattle. The Dimmadomes showed fat and healthy cows every year at… the cow-showing event. "Open dairy," Dad called it with his friends (SO awesome; all fancy). Dale never remembered the name except this time of year, but he definitely knew cows.

"Dad," Dale tried again. But dad kept talking, squeezing his arm again, so Dale went quiet for real and softly picked at his nose. The grown-ups talked cows, milk, and hormones… And when that all wrapped up, Doug scooped him up and set him on his hip in one shwoop.

"Now, what's all the fuss, son? What's got your knickknack paddy whacking?"

"Dad, I want a funnel cake."

Doug Dimmadome (owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome) threw an unreadable glance at the table where Vicky and her parents ate. It might've been unreadable because Dale was only 6. "Too risky, kiddo. It's probably got dairy. Now come on, son- You wanna lead the herd with me?"

3. Instrument

"Huh," was the first thing Vicky said when she came across the refrigerated butter sculpture. Seriously? Three giant cows playing in a band? "Pretty weird." It was a huge amount of butter and that was kinda impressive all in all, but… did it serve any purpose? It wouldn't last. Who would want to keep that thing cold for months? Even winter wouldn't get cold enough to not melt it. She looked for a price tag, a card- anything that indicated it might be for sale. Was this thing just donated? Free of charge? I wouldn't want it either, but that feels like a waste. I'm sure SOMEONE would buy it. Some kind of stupid, rich…

She was still there, leaning so close to the clear case, her nose could've touched the nearest instrument, when someone tapped her shoulder. She yelped, hit the case (with her face), and spun around. "Who-? … Oh." That weird kid who'd been staring at her while she ate lunch. When Vicky blinked at him, he pushed the brim of his big hat up with one thumb. He even smiled.

"I saw you at the mutton bustin'."

"The what?"

"You rode the sheep? Most people don't stay on that long."

"Oh, yeah. That sheep was a loser."

The kid blinked, like he actually cared about some random sheep's feelings or something. Honestly, with a name like mutton bustin', whoever was in charge of that thing probably cooked it up and ate it by now. "Well," said the kid, pretty slow on the word. He put out his hand. "I'm Dale… Donovan. And you're Vicky, right?"

"Uh, are you following me?"

4. Sheet

He showed her the chicken tent, the pigs, and the cattle (with their parents trailing behind, of course- Dad had a lot of business to talk and Vicky's parents didn't seem to mind he was there, even if Vicky still gave him weird sideways looks like she couldn't decide just what to make of him). But little by little… those shoulders that looked like tall fenceposts started coming down like a gate sinking underwater.

Then he showed her something super interesting over her shoulder while he tore down the sheet with the name Dimmadome scrawled across it. Look… Is it so wrong to want a friend who likes you without asking about your dad getting rich?

He ignored the confused looks the cows shot him as he bunched the paper in his hand.

5. Resonant

Y'know what? There was something REALLY funny about watching the awkward kid jump about 10 feet in the air (skeleton practically leaping from his skin) when a piercing whistle carried through the air.

"Th-that's my dad," Dale stuttered. "I have to go. Um. 'Bye."

Huh. So, did he not like to add the 'good' in 'good-bye' either? Maybe he's more self-aware of the crushing weight of existence than I thought. Not the worst quality in a friend.

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

[cologona]

If you won some sort of lottery contest and DC allowed you to write a comic run for any character, any topic, no limits, what would your comic be like?

What kinda plot and characters would you want to etch into official DC canon? (Or would you prefer to write an elseworlds kinda thing?)

-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog

Sorry it took a while to answer this, I got pretty carried away! Jason is my favorite character and the character I know most about, so of course I'd write about him. This is going to be pretty long winded and fanfic-y, hope you don’t mind!

First things first I’m making both UTRH and Lost Days mostly canon again. Jason was a crime lord who did Mean Crime Lord Things for a while and that’s what I’ve decided everyone is referring to when they gesture vaguely to his villainous past.

I’m also bringing back the original “big boob” backstory where Jason makes Bruce laugh on the anniversary of his parents’ death. Catherine was an opioid addict due to illness, Willis was the person who taught Jason about cars (and thus how to jack tires) and Faye Gunn is no longer Jason’s grandma. (I really disliked Ma Gunn’s “redemption” in RHATO.) Just in case, I’m also reiterating Sheila’s role in Jason’s death.

Here’s a few lines I came up with for the Todds:

Jason keeps the letters Willis sent him from prison - the ones Ma Gunn hid- in the same picture frame that holds his Robin graduation photo with Bruce. He loved and resented Willis in equal parts, but mostly he regrets not having gotten more time. It’s all the same with fathers.

Catherine is curled up in bed, her expression is half a grimace. She asks Jason, who is reading a picture-book by her side, to get her ‘medicine’ for her. Jason doesn’t know how else to help her feel better so… that’s exactly what he does. In a moment, he returns with a small heart shaped box and a cup of microwaved soup.

If I can imply in some way that Catherine is in denial about the possibility of her dying I’d like to do that too.

I’m also doing a total overhaul of the All-Caste.

Essence is getting proper Tibetan braids, Ducra is going to wear a khampa chuba instead of her current old coat, and the Acres-of-All are getting reimagined as a towering Ziggurat with all the murals, pillars, curtains, and ornate trim befitting a monastery! The All-caste of memory will be bright and fantastical, but the ruins of the present will be dark and spooky.

Some references for what I'm talking about.

I’m also reframing the “Absolute Evil” part of the All-blades’ description to be an epithet for the Untitled. The sword is not literally judging Goodness and Evilness anymore; now they cut through negative psychic energy Jujutsu Kaisen style. I don’t think I need to spell out a justification for Jason being able to summon them whenever, but for any sticklers I’ll just say it’s because Jason- like the Untitled- has a lot of bad feelings and trace amounts of Dionesium in his system (among assorted other chemicals.)

Since Lost Days is being brought back that means instead of spending an entire 3 years with the All-Caste, Jason only spent a few weeks with them during his world-wide training arc. Ostensibly because a little magic would give him an edge over Batman. Ducra wouldn’t normally just give away powerful magic weapons to any chump with a free weekend, and she knew Jason was dangerous, but since the All-Blades are so specific and the ritual to attain them nigh-unsurvivable she saw an opportunity to use Jason. Sure she's one of the Good Guys, but she's not called a conniving old witch for nothing hoohoo!

Now a few plot ideas for a vague overall mini-arc.

First, Jason goes to ugly lengths to protect or prevent consequences from finding one of his family. Maybe someone threatens their secret identity…? The ‘opponent’ should be someone innocent and/or noble but not easily bought or fought. Maybe Vicki Vale, another Hero, or some kind of wealthy heir. The point is to cast doubt on if Jason’s return to the Bats is really so unquestionably redeeming. Jason has pretty much chosen to betray his morals for them after all.

Then, Jason chooses not to kill a villain who shortly afterwards victimizes more people and skips town before he can get caught. Basically a rehash of Diplomat’s Son except the Garzonas figure gets away. It’s technically a win for Batman- his presence kept Gotham safe after all. But it doesn’t feel like a win, especially not to Jason.

And finally, Jason frames himself for various murders committed by victims against their abusers. Maybe kick the story off with one of Ma Gunn’s boys killing her and telling the cops it was Red Hood in a desperate bid to avoid jail.

Obviously Jason can’t be allowed to do this long-term. It’s a bad precedent to set, an obstruction of justice, etc… Jason hasn’t broken The Big Rule though, and Bruce can only act so sanctimonious when those same complaints could be are made about him as well. There’s no way this ends any other way than Batman running Red Hood out of Gotham again and they both know it, but neither deviates from the path set before them.

One or two “monster of the week” issues where Jason fights various assassins and bounty hunters sent by his more influential enemies might be good- one should occur right after the above story. A consequence for his “return to form” so to speak. Batfamily fans may appreciate a scene where Bruce says something indicating that he ran Jason out for his own safety as well as Gotham’s. Batman may be able to hide in Bruce Wayne’s skin during the day but Jason’s only identity is that of Red Hood, and at times that makes him vulnerable in a way other heroes aren’t. This + some panels contrasting the generic mercenary look of Jason’s guns and equipment with the Bats’ spandex future-tech will be great for showing how separate Jason is from the Bats.

Now while Jason’s out of Gotham again there’s this detail in one of RHATO’s flashbacks that I want to expand on- that being how he used to be able to summon a lot more All-blades.

Red Hood Outlaw 34

“I had a lot of soul back then” - implying that he has a lot less soul now…!?

Jason’s been through a lot, in life sure but also more recently. Fight scenes where the All-blades take the form of daggers would not only be cool and evocative of the wavy dagger Talia gifted him way back when, they’d be good visual sign of his declining emotional state.

Later on as his soul ‘shrinks’ further, I’d give him a pair of mystical guns through which he can channel his All-blades into bullets. If it’s another gift from Talia I’m thinking dark brass revolvers with paisley filigree and a red Endless Knot charm hanging from each handle. If they’re from Essence or S’aru I’m thinking black lacquer and silver cloud-patterned ornamentation, with red coral embedded on either side of the gun. Beautiful Bayonetta-style guns with glowing red veins and a cowboy flair!

antique guns which inspired me

As for what he’s using the All-blades (All-bullets?) for, I think it’d be fun to have Jason exorcising some ghosts. He can solve various murder mysteries, figure out why this place or that person is haunted, and get into fights with horrific otherworldly creatures. Jason is an interesting character to do this premise with because he might just determine that some some spirits should get their revenge, and act on behalf of a ghost rather than erasing it.

I’m not sure whether I’d want to have Essence join him or not… On one hand it only makes sense that Jason would help Isabel and Essence find a way to free themselves from the Blood Blade, and that goal would provide his character with some direction. Then again, Essence/Isabel could be cool as antagonists. Jason might see some ghosts as valid but Essence probably wouldn’t see any merit in appeasing manifestations of lingering resentment. She’s similar to him in that she also turned her back on her family, but she’s different in that she did it because she believed so wholeheartedly in their cause. She’s old and sort of a Jedi, but she’s hot-blooded and she’ll never not be Ducra’s daughter in the same way it seems Jason can never escape Batman’s shadow. I bet she has some real juicy sunk-cost fallacy type thinking too, that’d be fun to dig into.

Anyways I think this is a pretty good set-up to explore the politics/morality of forgiveness. What makes the difference between an injustice and a hatchet that ought to be buried? When is forgiveness empowering and when is it coerced? Who is it that must forgive? Justice vs Revenge, that whole kind of thing.

Other than the supernatural stuff I want Jason working with Talia, and I’m reintroducing Sasha to the post-52 continuity. Duela is getting nixed.

I don’t really have any specific plot ideas for Talia, but I would like to establish Jason as one of her associates. With Lost Days back they have basis for an actual relationship again. They’re not always on the same side but Jason can sometimes do tasks for Talia (outside the purview of Ra’s and the LOA), and Talia can occasionally support Jason with various social power-play type moves.

An instance of Jason getting into a fight with one of the Bats because he’s doing a favor for Talia would be great! I wouldn't write Talia as an evil evil bad horrible dragon lady, so it shouldn’t be a huge blow to Jason’s status as a Good Guy. Also I like the idea of Jason and Talia’s relationship mostly being inferred through their actions supporting one another, rather than directly showing much ‘on-screen’ interaction between them.

Also it’ll be interesting to go into Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s reaction to finding out that they’re not the only ones Jason is loyal to. Bruce thinking Talia was a bad influence on Jason (like fanon), silently frustrated because what he really wants is for Jason to be a full Bat-Believer (like the good old days…). Dick being fine with Jason never falling fully in-line with Bruce, provided that at the end of the day his loyalty belonged to his family.

-brief topical detour to talk about Sasha-

The new timeline of events is that Jason and Sasha met as fellow patients while Jason was in his Vague Villain era. They escaped the hospital building together (Sasha in her bloody dress, and Jason naked save for his skimpy hospital gown dhoti) and having no one else they stuck together. They got close but at some point Sasha lost her memories, giving her a chance at a fresh start. This was around the same time Jason “redeemed” himself and so just like Max Dawkins, ‘Numbers’, and Gabby Christiensen -Sasha became another person from Jason’s past that he didn’t let himself have a relationship with.

Sasha was just old enough that she didn’t have to be sent into foster care, so with some help from Wayne Foundations she got her GED and her feet underneath her. Now… she goes to work, goes to her physical therapy appointments, fights with her mother over the phone, and yes- sometimes she goes to the club.

The new Sasha still has spiky red hair but her face looks entirely normal save for a subtle scar tracing around her jawline and chin- the edges of where her mask used to sit. She wears dark makeup and even darker clothes. She’s prone to false memories and dissociation. She’s lost most of her ability to feel pain. She can’t watch certain shows she used to love anymore because they trigger her. She never returned to Russia. She doesn’t have many friends.

Since this is comics, her reintroduction will come by way of a dramatic fight. Sasha will regain her memories one day and show up out of the blue to fight Jason, angry and heartbroken that he abandoned her. He tries to explain himself but she just says look what they did to my face, referring to the facial reconstructive surgery she was given while amnesiac. She’ll be difficult to fight, not only because being a partial Dollotron gives her enhanced strength but also because she’s being reckless and the longer they fight the more strain and damage her body accrues.

After Jason apologizes and they reconcile (they will both cry) Sasha can become a recurring side character that Jason visits, keeping him grounded and up to date with Gotham. I think it'd be cute for her to bid him farewell by saying she’ll hold the city hostage until he comes back. (Is Sasha going to become Jason’s love interest? No. If I give Jason a love interest it’s going to be Numbers.)

--Going back to the previous topic, I want Sasha’s return to be part of this greater arc of Jason addressing his "shrinking soul" problem. My brain is a little fried now so I’m not exactly sure how but she is related. I think she ought to be.

Jason wants Bruce to be right. He would like for his problem to be fixed by going home and saying sorry. But at the end of my run I want him to face the reality that it’s not about that.

...Perhaps it should be about Jason 'abandoning' Gotham? I don’t really want the final thesis of my run to imply that Jason’s soul would just be fixed if he killed Rogues though, and Jason always came back whenever a big disaster was happening so it doesn't quite fit anyways… Jason does believe in the value of “pure” heroes it’s just not what he’s supposed to be. Whatever his problem's “about” , it ought to prompt Jason to stop taking Bruce’s shit. I'm saying the man is literally breaking Jason's spirit.

I’m sympathetic to Bruce but I wouldn’t write him as a nice father. I would also have scene where a younger Bat accuses Jason of being overdramatic despite 'not even having it the worst’. I don't know who 'has it the worst' but I want to make a statement that you don't need to win the pain-race to be fed up.

Ah anyways, now my brain is really fried. I hope this post was coherent all the way through, I neglected to edit and organize my thoughts as much towards the end. Thank you for asking me such a great question, I had a lot of fun thinking about it! :D

[barabaitcharactergenerator]

scotty-scott of howl fame

ah yes, my icon. my muse. my silly rabbit.

favorite thing about them - his tits on a meta level, i think what i appreciate most about scott is that it feels as though he was bio-engineered in a lab to be specifically catered to me. hairy, bearded, muscular, jockish, funny, kind, endlessly optimistic, stupid as hell, AND has canonically committed multiple atrocities as a big, sexy werewolf? be still, my beating heart. i feel like the monster prom creators stalked my social media circa 2017-2018 and collectively agreed that they were gonna make a dating sim ro that would make this one specific gayboy so, SO happy.

least favorite thing about them - also on a meta level. look. im not a nasty little hater (except when i am), but i have to admit that the writers are CONSTANTLY shoving him to the side in favor of the rest of the cast. even in his own game, Monster Roadtrip, a majority of the events tend to lean on polly being the center-focus with scott acting as her sidekick. this was esp apparent in the End of the Road ending where Polly was basically the main character while Scott was also There (sort of). ill admit i partially understand this since polly is generally a more active character while scott is more reactive, but still, id love to see my boy get his kudos

favorite line - there's so many good ones but im just gonna with one based on a recent screenshot i took: "I really like macaroni, but I'm not allowed to boil water by myself, so I just eat the noodles raw."

brOTP - DA PRANK MASTERZ BABEY!!! Scott is my fav MP character and Polly is my second fav, so you it's only natural that I'd be obsessed with their dynamic. canonically bimbo and himbo besties.

OTP - Scott howl x ME!! i like him and brian a lot, i think they're cute. im a sucker for jock x jock and golden retriever x constantly tired so the two of them manage to hit a sweet spot for me.

nOTP - the game keeps trying to push scott x vicky or scott x amira and like, im sorry, but trying to get me to ship Bara Icon Scott Howl with women? im calling homophobia. besides im more of a vicky x vera and amira x damien guy so on all fronts those ships just dont really appeal to me

random headcanon - for reasons i cant disclose this has been canonically refuted but i always pictured scott's grandma as one of those very classic horror movie werewolves- all fangs, all carnage, very little sexy (unless you're into that sort of thing, in which case, hey. you do you). she used to be the alpha of the pack back in her day and was an absolute menace to monster society, until she got a little older and settled down. still, she secretly craves the old days when monsters could be monsters, and keeps trying to convince scott to embrace his more animalistic side, even though he keeps telling her that murder isnt actually really mean and you probably shouldn't do it.

unpopular opinion - the monster prom fandom doesnt really have that much discourse so i dont know whats an unpopular opinion vs what isnt. uuuh i think scott should have won that popularity poll back when monster prom was still getting updates and gotten the new secret ending instead of damien's "punch the sun" ending

song i associate with them - this was on a scott howl playlist and i like it so uh. through and through by khai dreams

favorite picture of them - obv my pfp pic is one of my favs but here are a collection of Certified Scott Images

and some fav outfits:

[findafight]

I’m gonna admit, the whole “Robin and Steve share a girlfriend” thing kind of came to me when I was imagining how Steve and Vickie would get along.

As many people (I think including you?) have pointed out they have pretty much the same sense of humour, and seem to enjoy the same movies.

I see Steve being a “third wheel” on a lot of Robin and Vickie’s dates, in part because of rides and in part to make certain situations look less date-y. Or look more like one of the girls is third-wheeling by holding hands, doing the hand to the small of the back thing. Which sometimes leads to situations where Robin is kind of puppeteering Steve; “Steve, look at Vickie, she’s so cold! I can’t believe you’re not offering her your coat - what kind of boyfriend are you?”

(This comes back to bite her in the my ass a couple times when Steve will loudly announce “Robin, I cannot believe you’re just going to take the slice without offering it to Vickie, what kind of boyfriend are you?”, allowing Vickie to turn the puppy eyes on Robin.

He has done this a couple times in front of the kids, which they all find weird, but also assume it to be either one of Steve and Robin’s *deeply* unfunny inside jokes or part of an argument on the road to the realisation that they are in fact in deep denial about 1. Being in love and 2. That they have gone down a Super Mario pipe, skipped over all the interesting parts of romance and landed in their “old married couple” phase)

It’s all very confusing for Vickie. Like, she gets a kiss on the cheek from Steve so Robin can kiss her on the other cheek under the guise of making fun of the sappy couple - or else she gets a kiss from Robin and Steve gives her a kiss on the cheek to actually make fun of them. But she also gets forehead kisses from Steve to say hello and goodbye - which he doesn’t think is a big deal. He does that to Robin all the time - it would probably be rude to leave Vickie out, right? Or make her feel weird, left out. Things are not helped by the fact that Robin sometimes expresses her love via Steve. If Vickie’s upset, she’ll hug her, but she’ll also make Steve hug her, because he gives the *best* hugs!

Like, yeah, they’re a soul cut in half or whatever, but seriously - is this some kind of test? Does Steve think that she’s going to chest on Robin and is trying to prove it? Has Robin put him up to this because she thinks Vickie needs/wants wooing by *both* a girl and a boy? (She’s recently come out to her younger sister as “bisexual” and one of her questions was “so can you only have threesomes now?” Vickie is *going through it*, folks!)

Eventually she sits them down to try and talk it out, because this morning she woke up wearing a mix of both their clothes and she has some important assignments coming up at school, guys, SHE CANNOT KEEP LIVING LIKE THIS!

(There is a moment of silence as both Robin and Steve both fight to repress the urge to yell at each other that *this* is what that girl Janet that dumped Steve the other week was talking about!)

All hail Vickie, the bisexual who won *and* continued o be a disaster. no one is doing it like her!

omg sooooo good anon. I love this. VIckie is fighting for her life trying to decipher what is going on in her own relationship. is she dating Steve? is she not dating him? is she only dating robin? or both of them? Robin and Steve are weird she knew this going in but this is a bit much, right? and had to sit down for a minute because yes she woke up with Steve's shirt on and robins pants but the she saw Steve wearing her own sweater and robin wearing Steve's pants and so what does this mean? what are they doing? does she want anything to actually change?? (the answer to that she knows is no. She just wants clarity!and also is realizing that yes Steve does give the best hugs but part of that is that is Robin is there too. She's also realizing maybe kissing Steve and holding his hand is something she'd be down for more often!! help her!!)

and if she is also dating Steve she's going to have to live through the mortification of maybe telling her sister, and explaining that just because she's bisexual the throuple situation is NOT an essential part of that it just kinda happened by accident without any of the three of them noticing. and. who wants to admit that let alone to a little sister who Will Not Let It Go? poor vickie....

No one is doing it like Vickie and Stobin is not helping the situation At. All.

[stranger-chichka]

Byler/Rockie parallel + Jonathan/Steve parallel

The Cali group is on their way from Suzie looking for the Nina Project location (the previous scene with them we saw was actually Will's coded confession) and Argyle starts talking that Nina might be a small woman. We are shown Mike's reaction and the word "boy" behind him. Smalltown Boy.

Jonathan doubts the coordinates are correct and Mike with Will start talking about how genius Suzie is and that's why the coordinates can't be wrong, while Argyle keeps talking about a small woman. That's when Jonathan stops the car, Mike asks: "What are you doing?" and Jonathan answers: "I am stopping us before we get more lost." Hmmmm, okay. Getting lost while talking about girls? Maybe a coincidence. They get out of the car and are checking the coordinates. "Longitude is 116 degrees, five minutes, and 17-- Slow down. Slow down. All right You just go straight down. Like, straight... straight...It just doesn't make sense!" What doesn't make sense, Jonathan???? Straight...straight... Maybe, Will and Mike loving girls doesn't make sense????? I mean, look at them during that moment!!! Both are looking away. Looking miserable. Almost caught.

And you know what is even crazier and proves that I'm right???? This scene follows the one with the Hawkins group in WarZone. Do you remember what (or better say who) do we see in there that doesn’t make sense AND STEVE EVEN SAYS IT IN THE SAME EPISODE???? Vickie and her boyfriend. Vickie who is paralleled to Mike. Her boyfriend who came to Hawkins for spring break. CRAZY!!!

I'm adding the links on the posts with Byler/Rockie parallels here, here, here and here (credits to @thranduel @kaypeace21 @willandmichael and @bylerisrequited ).

Robin says: “In the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low.” And I remembered Ted with his “It’s strike 20. You’re on the bench, son.” But Lucas who was on the bench hit the final ball and they won. But Erica who was a substitute rolled 20 and won. 10s on Mike and Will’s rollers. Only together they win.

Steve tries to convince Robin that there's something wrong with these relationships and he "still has hope." STEVE IS US. And what do we hear from Vickie in the last episode??? She and her boyfriend broke up. “I should’ve just ended things right there and then.” Does it remind you of anyone? I guess there’s no need to write who.

What I found interesting is that we see a small poster that says RELIEF AID on it (= Robin feeling relieved by knowing Vickie is single) and FOOD is written on the table. Hopper and Joyce also were talking about food before their kiss. Who we don’t see eating food in s4? Mike. El also doesn’t eat Eggo’s he brought her. But they eat pineapple pizza, though Mike calls it “blasphemous” at first (here are some food references.) And we also have these “sweetie pie” mentionings. Very and very interesting. Food and love are somehow intertwined. Vickie says: “I’m rumbling about my dumb boyfriend where there are people out there suffering. Who need…food. All you need is love. That’s what Matthew Modine posted on Twitter when being asked about s5 endgame.

Her dumb boyfriend wished her “Good luck” and Mike says finding El in the woods was “a simple dumb luck”, ARE YOU KIDDING ME????

One last thing that was already mentioned by some great minds. Steve is holding a blue & yellow (Mike and Will) t-shirt while putting a red one (El) aside. And there’s a birthday reference. Vickie gives Robin a sandwich as a gift saying: “Early birthday.” Whose birthday was forgotten and he had no presents? Will. We will have the scene where Mike gives him a gift (maybe even with a letter signed “Love, Mike”) and him saying: “Belated birthday.”

[redwineconversation]

Olympique Lyonnais Behind the Scenes (Episode 6)

Kind of like last month's segment, I didn't want to do this one either because of how annoying fucking stans are. They genuinely make me want to not translate / transcribe things because they have an inability to just take a step back and act like a normal human being / football fan. However, I also want [normal?] people to get to a point where they can understand this team the way I do, so it leads us to this: me screaming into the void at how much I hate stans overstepping boundaries while I translate a genuine cause of sleep paralysis.

Again, I feel this would be simpler if OLPlay would let one screen record and my technology skills were better, but here we are. Can't have everything in life.

Blah blah standard disclaimers apply; @OL Comms Dept either chip in for Starbucks or a bottle of wine, I'm cool with either option; banning stans from stadiums would make the sport a better place; what won't I do to put off vacuuming? Apparently not much; y'all know the speech by now.

Come for Cascarino being unable to hide her Lyon DNA, stay for Becho's admiration of the likable red team. Love a team who literally recoils in horror at the thought of being seen as human. It's not that Lyon creates monsters, they honestly don't. The players were already monsters before they signed for Lyon, the only thing Lyon did was take the muzzle off.

OLYMPIQUE LYONNAIS BEHIND THE SCENES (EPISODE 6)

[LYON -SLAVIA PRAGUE GAME FOOTAGE]

Danielle van de Donk: We had a draw against Slavia Prague at home as well. It was a bit frustrating, it was just not nice for us because we wanted to get into a nice flow.

Vicki Becho: It's not the kind of performance we want to do, it's not the kind of result we want. So it was disappointing for us, for our fans. It's the type of performance we have to keep in mind to tell ourselves there are still lots of things to work on, and that we have to do much more.

[OPENING SEQUENCE]

[LYON - STADE DE REIMS GAME FOOTAGE]

Delphine Cascarino: After the draw against Slavia Prague, we wanted to do much better, and then we played against Reims. There was good content in the game.

[LYON - STADE DE REIMS GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Becho: I was really happy for Euge[nie Le Sommer] because she was going through a complicated period and that she scored, I was really, really happy for her. I remember Eugenie's brace because I provided the assist on one of her goals. Having playing time again, getting some minutes under my belt, it was the best of things. And in that game, when I provided the assist, I'm happy. That's what I take away from it. Beyond that, I told myself that I can do much better and those are just the kind of performances I should keep in mind to do even more.

[LYON - STADE DE REIMS GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

van de Donk: Eugenie [Le Sommer] scored her 300th goal, so that was amazing for her. And I saw the people in the stands with the little paper going up. Everyone on the bench was asking what that was for, I think it was Laura [Benkarth] and I explained to her that she [Le Sommer] had 300 goals for Lyon, which is just amazing. It's great, they're so much more up to date than I am. They're actually very helpful.

Cascarino: Obviously - obviously we were happy for Eugenie [Le Sommer] because she deserves that status of top scorer for Olympique Lyonnais. And yeah, I hope she will score many more. It's quite frankly exceptional for her and the club. It shows that she's really a club legend.

[LYON - STADE DE REIMS GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Cascarino: There was a good context within the game. However we conceded a goal, so that was - that was a negative.

[LYON - STADE DE REIMS GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Cascarino: Conceding a goal is never easy, be it for the goalkeeper or even for the forwards. We owe it to ourselves at Olympique Lyonnais to not concede any goals.

[LYON - STADE DE REIMS GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Becho: We won, but it remains super frustrating because we've been conceding quite a lot lately. At the beginning of the season we weren't conceding at all. Lately we've been conceding more. We need to do better. We know our previous performances haven't been that good, we need to do better in terms of defense, and offensively we need to do much better.

[LYON - STADE DE REIMS GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Becho: At the end of the game, when I saw Eugenie, I said to her "Another one? Another record? How am I supposed to catch up to you?" [Becho laughs. I don't] No, I really like to tease Eugenie. I'm really happy for her. She leaves such a big imprint at Lyon and even in French women's football, and global women's football. And I know that for many girls, she's a role model.

van de Donk: After the game, in the locker room, we celebrated of course with the song and everything. We did a little bit extra for Eugenie [Le Sommer], of course, because it's just amazing to achieve that.

[TRAINING FOOTAGE]

[UWCL DRAW FOOTAGE]

Cascarino: So there was the possibility between Benfica, Ajax and Hacken. We landed on Benfica, who is a really good team. So yeah, we know it won't be easy. They drew 4-4 against Barcelona. So we're expecting a really good opponent.

Becho: They can cause problems for us, so we will need to avoid falling into their trap. We'll need to play really good football to get past them. I would have liked to have played against Ajax, I see what they're doing this season and honestly it's incredible. They manage to sell out their stadium, they're doing a lot of things. So they're a really good team that I wanted to play against. In any case, to win this competition we have to beat the best.

van de Donk: I do think Benfica is like very tricky, they're all very technical players. I feel it's just like the Portuguese team. As we experienced it lately with the Netherlands, they're quite hard. But yeah, I'm just very excited. I mean, they're kind of my style of football so I love to see them play, now I have to play against them. They want to keep possession all the time, they have all the skills. It's just going to be frustrating, but we're just not going to have to bite, you know. And then get them when they're the most - I don't know how you say it - when they're the most vulnerable?

van de Donk: The thing is, when you build it from the back, that's kind of my quality, coming out with the press[ing]. I know when to go, so when people do it, it's fine for me. But I do think that Lyon has a good press. It's kind of our game.

[MICHELE KANG FOOTAGE]

Cascarino: Honestly, it was positive than it ended - that it became official, but unofficially we knew that the club had been sold to Michele Kang, so it was just formalities that needed to be sorted out. Now it's done and we can move forward with peace of mind.

Becho: We talked about it a lot. We heard a lot of people talking about it as well. But as long as it wasn't done, we couldn't look ahead as much as we can now. And now we have peace of mind. We know there is someone there for us, we know there is someone who wants us to have the best possible conditions. We know our future is set, so there aren't any worries in that regard. We're very happy on our side.

Becho: She hadn't even officially taken over her role and she was already doing a lot for us. We saw the number of staff members increase. A lot of things changed. For the better, but with the caveat President Aulas had already done an enormous amount for us. Knowing there will be this person going forward, it was reassuring for us.

Cascarino: Since Michele Kang's arrival, there has been a lot of positive changes. There's almost as many staff members as there are players. So it shows we're becoming even more professional. We're getting even closer to what is done for the men's teams. So it's really positive for Olympique Lyonnais. In every area, whether it's nutrition, fitness preparation, psychology, mental health, in every area, if there's any doubt then we have someone we can ask questions to. It really helps us to reach the highest level.

van de Donk: We were kept up to date with how the process was going with Michele [Kang] buying our side, of course. Because as soon as she stepped foot in our changing room, when I met her, I was blown away by her. I think she's amazing. She's going to do very, very good stuff for women's football. So yeah, I'm a big fan, not going to lie. When I heard it was done, it was just a nice feeling. I think we're in good hands.

van de Donk: She's so involved with the women's side. She was already making so many changes for us. You can tell that she wants things to be better and bigger, which is really nice for the next steps of professionalism in women's football. When it was all done, because everything in France takes a while I think, I think it was very good. I was very happy.

[TRAINING FOOTAGE]

Becho: You're not allowed to lose a Lyon - PSG game. You're not allowed to lose. Those are the types of games we like to play, those are the types of games we want to play.

Cascarino: We know that PSG knows us by heart, we know them by heart. So it really comes down to tactics to win the game. We worked really hard in preparation for PSG. We worked really, really hard on tactics that week.

van de Donk: Every time we play against PSG, it's just - it's wild. I think everyone goes into a different mindset. I think everyone is just a little bit more focused because the rivalry, it's just amazing. It's just a different kind of level, everyone just really wanted to beat them.

van de Donk: Before the big games, we do a lot of tactical training during training sessions [news to anyone who has watched Bompastor coach recently]. It's not necessarily my favorite part of training sessions, but I like all the small stuff, all the small games, the technical stuff. But I do think we need all the tactical stuff. But it was good. You can taste what kind of game you're going to play or something. It's hard to describe how it is if you're not a player yourself. But normally you have a whole week to prepare. So the beginning of the week it's a bit more chill, a bit more jokey, we can have a bit more of a laugh during training. But before PSG it's just not like that, everyone is focused, "we need to get this and go."

[LYON - PSG GAME FOOTAGE]

Cascarino: It was a pretty close game, pretty difficult.

Becho: We started the game off well. We started really strong, we managed to press pretty high, we're in their half. We had chances.

[LYON - PSG GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Becho: As time went by our level dropped, we weren't pressing as much, there was a slower reaction time. We weren't unified. We were a little - how to say this - we were late in the press, and it could be felt. The team opposite us starts to gain the upper hand over us.

[LYON - PSG GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

van de Donk: Obviously they have a good team, super fast wingers. On the midfield, I feel they just overload us. The attackers are dropping into the midfield so we're having to play four or five against three. It's going to get complicated if we don't do the defending very well.

[LYON - PSG GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Cascarino: It was pretty frustrating to see that we weren't able to do it.

van de Donk: They had one long ball on Chawinga. It's complicated because she's just super fast. It was outside of the foot, I remember. So it was actually a very good goal, but it's just hard. Don't allow them anything and you give one long ball away and it's goal.

[LYON - PSG GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Becho: For the whole game we didn't give them any opportunities, and that's - that's the top level. If we let them have one opportunity, we'll pay for it. We told ourselves that we had done everything not to concede that goal, but yeah. We conceded. So now we have to switch on.

van de Donk: No, losing is just not an option for us. There's certain players on the team who make sure we're not losing. They keep the standards very high and whenever we need to be picked up, they will pick us up. I think it was kind of an equal game, like both parties were in the "gray, but not bad". It was just a bit of a weird phase in the game. Luckily, when Delph[ine Cascarino] came in, she changed the game so, so much.

[LYON - PSG GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Cascarino: I felt that the team needed help in that moment and was losing 1-0, so you have to take risks. You really can't hesitate to go into a challenge, and press for a goal.

Becho: I think it's harder to come on when the team is behind, because you don't have the same way to react. When you're losing, you want to do everything quickly, you want to score, you want to equalize. When I came on, I said to myself it will come from us, the substitutes. The game was at a bit of a stalemate. You have to bring something extra to the team. They have to feel like we are there for them, that they can count on us, that we're a relief.

Cascarino: It wasn't easy to come into the game, especially a game like that with so much intensity. But I owed it to myself to give it my best for the team.

[LYON - PSG GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Becho: Delphine [Cascarino], when she comes on, we know what she is capable of. The opponent knows it too. But I don't think they were expecting her to do it so quickly and at that moment. Delphine got the ball and she did what she had to do, what she knows to do.

[LYON - PSG GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Cascarino: Well in that moment I felt there weren't really any solutions because they were defending well, really, really well. They're playing one-on-ones. I could feel when I got the ball PSG as hesitating. So I took advantage of it and faked passing in order to dribble past some players. Then I put in a strong cross. I said to myself "it doesn't matter, Ada [Hegerberg] is a little behind." But I put weight on it anyway. And she managed to get the defender off balance enough to put the ball at the back of the net.

Cascarino: At that moment we - you're not thinking. You're acting on instinct. I saw there was a small amount of space. I scampered into it and it paid off. Sometimes it doesn't work, it depends. It depends on the situation. It depends on a lot of things.

van de Donk: Delph[ine Cascarino] did this trick with her leg, it was crazy. She runs with the ball. She's super fast, first of all. It's hard to keep up with her. And then she does stuff with her leg in the air, and she keeps going and goes past you. It's just done.

Cascarino: It made me happy in the moment to have been at the origin, if we can call it that, of the equalizing goal. But I was still disappointed with the final result because we didn't win the game.

[LYON - PSG GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Becho: We weren't able to put forth the style of play that we wanted, but we didn't lose and that's what we should take away from it.

[OLPLAY STUDIO ANALYSIS]

van de Donk: I had no idea where Montauban was, it was a bit of a shock. It was quite far as well. But it was a cool game to be fair, I think they had a good crowd going on.

Becho: The away trip to Montauban, it reminded me a little of the away trips when I was young. You could tell the crowd was family-leaning.

Cascarino: Montbaunan was playing the game of their lives. It was good, the crowd was really pushing them to play well, so it was nice, we like those sorts of games.

[MONTAUBAN - LYON GAME FOOTAGE]

van de Donk: Games like that, they always start off a bit weird because the pitch is not as good, the opponent is fired up because they're fired up because they're playing against Lyon. They always go the extra mile, I would say, a bit harder in tackles and everything.

Cascarino: We gave ourselves a fright at the start. Unfortunately I gave away a penalty. I think it was the first time in my career.

[MONTAUBAN - LYON GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Cascarino: Maybe subconsciously there was a little bit of carelessness. Maybe a bit of tiredness as well. The month of February is never easy physically. So maybe that's why there was a bit of a drop-off.

van de Donk: I think we're just very patient as a team. Instead of killing them straight away, I think we're like "get into the game first, play our game, and then the goals will come". In the end that was true, but the second half was more easy.

[MONTAUBAN - LYON GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Becho: It was nice but in that moment, I wasn't thinking that- I was frustrated. Like I said, we've been conceding more goals lately, and it's something that I really hate. We are Lyon, and we - I want no team to think they can beat us or even think to themselves that we tossed them a bone or that they got something from us. No. We can't let them have anything. So I was frustrated to have conceded that goal.

[MONTAUBAN - LYON GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

van de Donk: Yeah, everything is a bit harder, it's a bit always - when you start the game, then after five minutes you know what kind of game it's going to be or how they are exactly. But that's why they are a bit more hard. I think it's a bit more difficult but very exciting always.

Becho: In the end, when you could see even the substitutes, Eugenie [Le Sommer] come on, Ada [Hegerberg] come on. We know we're a team where you can count on everybody.

Cascarino: Yes, the second half was much better and the goals kept coming.

[MONTAUBAN - LYON GAME FOOTAGE CONT'D]

Becho: After that, we were really happy to see Alyssia [Paljevic - former Lyon academy goalkeeper, best known for being the same height as Selma Bacha], who used to play with us. We were happy as well because we qualified for the semifinal.

[MONTAUBAN - LYON POSTGAME FOOTAGE]

van de Donk: Before the game I saw Alyssia, our little goalie from last year. I think she's amazing, she's such a good kid. So it was really nice to see her but I could tell in her eyes that she was a little bit down. I figured it's because she didn't start the game. But for her it was really nice, she came on so she could play against her old club. She's just amazing, I love her.

[INTERNATIONAL BREAK]

Becho: We're leaving for the international break.

Cascarino: First of all I really happy to be called up by the head coach. It was really nice for me to go back to the French National Team and play in my city [Lyon] as well. So it's really a pleasure for me to play in the Groupama Stadium. And yeah, we were really happy to have won.

Becho: In the final, we were playing against Spain. They were playing at home. We know that in that moment we have an entire stadium against us. But it's okay, we tell ourselves it's a final, it's the League of Nations. We have to win it. They were better than us, we're not going to hide it. They had a better game plan than us, we tried to play with what we had.

Cascaarino: They played really well tactically. They really moved the ball around, they really lulled us. And yeah, we know it, it's the style of play that they have and it worked. Unfortunately for us we weren't able to impose our style of play and, yeah. I came on as a substitute. It was complicated to come on in that type of game, especially when we were down 2-0. We weren't able to get any goals back.

Cascarino: Now we are ready for the month of March and we hope we will win everything in the month.

[outsideratheart]

90 with deyna castellanos

90 - “If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?”

It was Deyna’s last game with Alteti. The team had won and everyone was celebrating, a mixture of having a successful season and a goodbye to few of the players.

“You should go with her” Carmen says as you watch Deyna meet the fans one last time.

“I can’t, Madrid is my home” you hate to admit it but you could never leave Madrid even if it meant being with the woman you love.

“It will be hard at first but you guys will survive it. Look at me and Lola, we were ok”

“We let Lyon borrow Lola and they sent her back” you say causing the both of you to laugh “this is different, she signed a 4 year deal”

Carmen can tell by the sadness in your voice that nothing she says will be make you feel better.

A couple of minutes later you join Deyna walking around the pitch. A bitter sweet feeling settles in your gut as you realise this will be the last time you are in the stadium as team mates.

“I’m really going to miss you Y/N” Deyna says whilst making an effort not to make eye contact.

“I’m scared”

Again another admission, one that you haven’t heard before.

“Why are you scared? Manchester City are a good team. You will have Laia and you know Leila, I’m sure Vicky will help you settle in”

“I’m not scared of what will happen in Manchester. I’m scared about what will happen in Madrid once I leave” now she turns your way and you see the uncertainty in her eyes.

“Where is this coming from?”

You make a move to grab Deyna’s hand but she pulls away. This doesn’t sit well with you because she only did this when she was mad at you.

“Did I do something wrong?” Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Look around. Listen to how many people are screaming your name. I see the way the fans flirt with you, it’s the same when we go out, girls throw themselves at you”

You know that Deyna gets jealous of the attention you get. Not in a bad way, more in a she is my girlfriend back off, kind of way.

“I—“

“What if you forget about me?”

You can see Deyna’s insecurities all over her face.

“Deyna Castellanos. You are many things, funny, caring, beautiful, to list of a few. Forgettable is not one of them”

“But what about-“

“You’re the only woman I’ll ever want. That won’t change when you’re 830 miles away, if anything It will make me want you more. What can I do to prove it to you?”

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” Deyna blurts out.

Her question catches you of guard.

“That depends, are you asking?” Your playful tone gives her the answer.

She slowly nods her head and you can just make out the flushness in her cheeks.

One step is all it takes to close the distance between the two of you. The kiss is sweet and soft, it doesn’t need to be passionate for Deyna to receive the message that she is all you need.

[hilarychuff]

miss congeniality in my stranger things au graphic series

Over the years, Robin has worked stupidly hard to get as far as she has in the FBI. Her skills as a codebreaker were carefully honed, her fluency in now five different languages was hard-won, and it was no easy feat learning how to wrestle her stubbornly uncoordinated body into fighting shape so that she could throw a punch as good as the rest of the recruits. So when she botches the Russian op and finds herself yanked out of the field and plopped squarely on Assistant Director Hopper’s shit list, she’s desperate to make things right — not least of all because Steve has been put on the Miss United States case. Without her.

Everyone at the office knows that Robin and Steve are a matched set. They’re partners. They do everything together. So when Hopper explicitly bans her from the task force, well, she and Steve both know they’ll find a way around it. It’s a fascinating case, after all. Domestic terrorist threats. A big flashy pageant. And, of course, approximately 50 drop-dead gorgeous beauty queens to go with it. So when Robin comes up with the idea to send an undercover in as one of the contestants, she’s almost certain it’ll be enough to get her back in her boss’s good graces. Only, the thing is, she didn’t anticipate that she’d somehow be the sole eligible agent.

There’s really just… no universe in which Robin can pull this off, no matter how convinced Steve is that she’s the right person (the only person available with the right gender) for the job. He really thinks she can do it, and maybe she should give that more weight considering he’s the sole reason she passed her field test in the first place, but the idea of Robin as a graceful, gracious pageant queen who has the perfect, pretty words for all manner of intrusive interview questions is — well, it’s laughable. Robin literally laughed out loud when Steve first suggested it.

But now she’s here, all waxed and plucked and polished and wrapped in some pastel monstrosity of a skirt suit being shepherded onto a bus by pageant director Martin Brenner, and Robin finds that it’s not all bad when sweet little Miss Indiana sits down next to her. It doesn’t take long, however, for Steve to reveal that the very same Chrissy Cunningham — Chrissy “All You Need Is A Light Jacket” Fucking Cunningham — is their best suspect. And he’s insisting that Robin question her.

So Robin takes Chrissy and the other girls out. Robin gets Chrissy and the other girls drunk. And Robin asks Chrissy if she’s ever committed a crime — and is met with Miss Indiana’s enormous eyes, shining and sad, as Chrissy admits in the guiltiest of voices to stealing a pair of red underwear from the mall that her mother called satan’s panties. (And, for the record, Robin had not found that any more adorable or insanely sexy than was strictly professional given their circumstances, because Robin is good at her job. But god.)

It’s just — it’s not her. There’s literally no chance that sweet little Miss Indiana is the same person threatening to blow up the Miss United States pageant and the women in it. And Hopper finally gives in and agrees when he announces that the Citizen has been caught, the threat negated, and that it’s time for Robin to drop out of the pageant. But Robin doesn’t think that’s right, either. She has a bad feeling that it’s not over yet. But sticking it out might mean she does it alone. Alone alone, without even Steve by her side. And it might mean that when her work at the pageant is done, she doesn’t have any other work to go back to.

ft. robin as gracie hart, chrissy as cheryl frasier/miss rhode island, steve as eric matthews, hopper as assistant director mcdonald, brenner as kathy morningside, henry creel as frank tobin, murray as victor melling, owens as stan fields, nancy as mary jo wright/miss texas, tammy as leslie davis/miss california, carol as alana krewson/miss hawaii, vickie as karen krantz/miss new york

[ostianshadow]

TOA Anniversary Munday!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: vicky (aka key or wkey)

Pronouns: she/her

Birthday (no year): jan 6

Where are you from? What is your time zone? french canadian. west coast best coast. pst.

Roleplay experience: idk since i was like 7? running around the neighbourhood w the boyz and gming our own little world of makebelieve… writing/online-wise, since around the age of 10-11 when we got a puter in the living room.

Got any pets? black kitty called cabbage i fostered and then adopted. she's no thoughts head empty and that's why she won over my other 16 foster cats. /hj

Favorite time of year: autumn-ish or spring. don't do well in the heat but sad makes winter bad.

Some interests and things you like: comics&webtoons, puzzle games (picross, sudoku, etc), ultimate frisbee, tennis, hiking, traveling

Some funfacts & trivia about you:

-prefer crepes to pancakes

-don't leave me alone with a box of ice cream sandwiches for the love of-

-past key has cumulatively drawn 500+ comic pages over the years (and misses it dearly)

-used to play ice hockey, played for bout 12 years. stopped due to injuries.

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? ffxiv, zelda, tales of, undertale

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: ghost, haunter

How did you get into Fire Emblem? smash bros /j i think my bro acquired a copy of fe7 and the rest is history

What Fire Emblem games have you played? 6 through current

First Fire Emblem game: 7

Favorite Fire Emblem game: hrkkk probably 7 but super fond of sacred stones n path of radiance too

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳

lmao

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays?

- Awakening: mightve been chrom by accident n woulda been pissed about it. henry & gaius beloveds

- Fates: conquest- niles, birthright- azama, revelations- kaze

- Three Houses: was it claude or felix? idk but claude is def why i started w deer haha

- Engage: louis and lapis i married both that's my story and im sticking to it

Favorite Fire Emblem class: thief or mage

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class? probably an archer, or mage. miss me w close combat

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? hmm… i wanna say deer but probably beagles

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with? lyn. long distance pew pew goes brrrrr

How did you find TOA? kept seeing it on twitter from ol ferp mutuals and eventually caved

Current TOA muses: hector, matthew, azama

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again? ewan. some days i think i could.

Have you had any other TOA muses? florina, henry

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards? prickly, maybe. in general muses that allow me to explore… ewan is more outgoing than i will ever be, but lets himself feel petty or jealous. hector is brash, but struggling with an uncomfortable and unexpected weight on his shoulders. azama invites conflict like he needs it to breathe, while ive typically been averse to conflict. florina is timid but trying to grow stronger for her friends (and herself, she comes to realize). henry is… an oddball, idk how to describe what draws me to writing him. change of pace maybe? requires thinking outside the box with his unique worldview. i dont tend toward angst but matthew is a good output for it if im feelin it haha.

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most? i think i like. when threads start to come together. yknow in stories when you can start referring to things that have happened? and you're like "woah wait i know what that's referring to!!"

when you manage to reach a shared history ig? i know im p slow re. writing but i cherish the bonds and overarching/intertwined stories my muses wind up with. people you meet touch your life in ways you might not immediately fathom…

Favorite TOA-related memory: lots of lock & key justice shenanigans… bunker … enjoyed unscripted a whole heck of a lot as well

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔 T-O-A. sounds fancier to spell it out haha

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day that you’d like to share? 😉 felix, ike, kaze, serra, sain, naesala, ingrid, eldigan, bramimond, lethe, shinon, kliff… not so much delusions as "might be fun to explore…" – and i wouldn't trade our current reps of the above for the world ✌️

[khaleesiofalicante]

Dani omg yes, I can't wait for the Brazilian GP! I've read that's it's one of the best tracks and there's so much history because of Senna (yes I saw a documentary about Senna on Netflix) and it's also sort of a home race for Lewis so it will be super interesting. I obviously haven't seen one before, but most drivers seem to really like Interlagos so let's see. Also this F1 page on Insta said that there's a thing since 2017 that however wins pole in Hungary wins the Brazilian GP and I immediately went to make sure who won and it was Lewis! So, that will very exciting to watch, unless Max ruins this superstition too. Honestly this guy, he is ruining everything🙄 (Just a joke please Max fans don't come at me I'm actually kinda fond of him-but Lewis for the win). Horner still pisses me off though. And you know what's funny? I remember a certain question somebody asked Horner at the beginning of this season, about who is the thing he fears for the most the car, Ferrari, or Lewis Hamilton and he went "Fernando Alonso". And now his second driver is in danger of losing second place in the drivers championship to Lewis. Alexa, play Karma by Taylor Swift

This also reminded about the Lewis/Charles disqualification last weekend which I still haven't recovered from. FIA, if two out of four drivers ain't making the cut, CHECK THE OTHER DRIVERS TOO! Seriously, they are just doing it to piss us off at this point.

Sorry about the rant, you caught me in a F1/Lewis day (which is most of the days to be honest).

PS: Every time the race begins I have this little habit of writing "44" above the tattoo I have on my wrist like a good luck charm. I swear I am not a superstitious person, Lewis just brings it out of me I guess 😅 Let's hope qualifying and the race will be awesome!

PPS: I hope the driver of the car gets sprayed with water too, I hate it when that happens, watch the way you're driving buddy, you're not the only one on the road

OMG I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT THE HUNGARY-BRAZIL THING. THIS IS SO COOL??????

I will ignore every single thing about Redbull, Verstappen (i can't call him Max lol), Horner and everyone there. I shall stay away from them for my own peace!

Also, YES! CHARLES AND LEWIS WERE SO SEXY FOR THAT. FUCK THE FIA INDEED. They should've made another joint post after hehe.

Also, if you haven't watched it already, PLEASE watch the sao polo gp weekend from 2021 because THAT WAS EVERYTHING. Like every Lewis stan should watch it because it was soooo rewarding.

I have high hopes for this weekend and i so goddamn nervous I CAN'T WAIT, VICKY. SEND HELP. Let's see how quali goes today 👀

PS - Your little good luck superstition is cuteeee.

PPS - Also, did you know that this week is the 44th week of the year jfdknvjkd COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT.

[lollo-sw-br]

Idol Wing AU: Star 2: Super DREAM1ES!

CEO's office - MAX1M Entertainment

Choi Tae Ho, CEO of MAX1M Entertainment, seeing that the group already with three albums was not making profit as he hoped it would, he was now willing to boycott YUM1E and do anything to get him to disband.

But the problem would not be the easiest thing in the world, his right hand Lee Han Jin, did not want to end YUM1E in any way, because unlike the CEO, he believed in the success of YUM1E

- This group is lost! - said Tae Ho - has not won anything so far, considering that we promoted a single and two mini albums, no opportunity to go to MAMMA or Ighigayo and get in a good position

- TaeHo, you are being very impatient - said HanJin - hope that YUM1E will hit a lot

- Stop dreaming HanJin - said TaeHo - YUM1E will not make a hit level BTS and BLACKPINK, it's useless, it's not going to work! This group is not a hit like I expected, I don't see success in anything!

- If you don't see potential in the group, then I do! - Han Jin said - The YUM1E is going to hit whether you like it or not!

HanJin left the room leaving TaeHo alone and thoughtful, little did the Co-CEO know that his boss was planning to disband YUM1E.

- This group cannot continue, I will not let this little group tarnish my company's image - TaeHo said - YUM1E needs to put an end point, and I will be the one who will have the intense pleasure of doing that.

Main Hall - World Aircraft

The girls created the Fanpage (loveyum1e.ofc), in addition, the Super Wings girls spread YUM1E's songs all over the airport, either listening to the songs near other Super Wings to get them interested in the group, or performing dance covers of the choreography, most of the team (younger members) were already part of Fandom, while the veterans enjoyed the music and supported the group, being a senior fan, being less intense as the younger ones.

Jerome, Paul and those who love to dance learned the choreography, Jett, Flip, Crystal, Ellie, Dizzy and that more radical, they tried the movements and they remade scenes of the MVs, with Bello, Grand Albert, Poppa Wheels and others, like to reproduce the photos in the album, play the games that come with them (each one comes with a different game, according to the concept and theme of the concept, from a memory game, even a group deck, In addition to the clear, collectible cards in all albums, piquing the interest of collectors).

The World Airport was taken over by YUM1E, played the songs all the time, plus Random Dance Play competitions (YUM1E ver.), Waiting eagerly for the Fameetings and Fansing of the group, and waiting to be noticed by the group, and little did they know that just as they are DREAM1ES, the group members are WINGERS and wanted the same.

- Wait guys! - Said Astra - Comeback will come out now in April get ready!

- I'm so curious! - said Jett - I want to know what the concept is going to be? will it be a full album?

- Here's saying it's going to be a surprise - Sunny said

- Surprise? - said Donnie - this kills me with curiosity!

- From everybody Donnie - said Dizzy

- I hope Lollo and Flora get the spotlight they deserve - said Ellie

- Poor thing about our Bias - said Mira - they really deserved more attention

- Who knows girls - said Tino - Flora is also my bias

- Never lose hope - said Grand Albert - Lollo is my bias and I think it's unfair and what the company does to her.

- I agree - said Narae - let's wait for the Comeback and see what will happen

- Let's not give up - said Jett - the girls will stand out, I love Brighie, but the company thinks she, Vicky, Aria and Cherie are the only ones in the group, That's absurd.

- I agree! - all said

To be continued....

[celtfather]

Christmas Spirit at Last

Finally, the Christmas Spirit is here at last with the Celtic Christmas Podcast. Full episode is in the podcast feed.

It’s Celtic Christmas Podcast #66

Jed Marum, Alisa Marie, Vicki Swan & Jonny Dyer, We Banjo 3, Gaelynn Lea, Bart Zeal, Brigid's Bounty, West of Eden, Marc Gunn

0:04 - Jed Marum "Banjos We Have Heard On High" from A Celtic Christmas and Rejoice! A Christmas Album

3:21 - WELCOME TO THE CELTIC CHRISTMAS PODCAST

I am Marc Gunn. I am an Atlanta-based musician and podcaster. We are promoting Celtic culture through Christmas cheer.

If you hear music you love, please support the artists. Visit the shownotes to find out more about the artists and subscribe to the show at CelticChristmasPodcast.com.

Shop our Mage Records online store.

4:52 - Alisa Marie is a multi-instrumentalist, composer and producer from England, who creates music inspired by fantasy novels and films, in particular the works of Tolkien. Alisa's influences also include traditional folk music from Britain and Ireland.

Alisa plays a number of instruments including the harp, ocarina, piano, guitar, Irish flute, tin whistle and bodhran.

Her latest EP is a collection of traditional and Christmas music, recorded live in front of a real fire.

5:26 - Alisa Marie "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" from Winter Harp (by the fireside)

7:16 - Vicki and Jonny are two of the most versatile musicians of the folk circuit today, on stage – and now online. Their performances showcase new interpretations of old songs alongside original self penned tunes and new contemporary songs that are entirely at home in the tradition. They have developed a sound that is both familiar and fresh.

Their Christmas album is absolutely delightful as you’ll hear in this song.

Check out this interview from 2006 with Swan & Dyer.

7:54 - Vicki Swan & Jonny Dyer "Good Christian Men Rejoice" from A Sound of Christmas Past

11:54 - Galway-based We Banjo 3 has one foot in Irish music and one foot in Americana music. They seamlessly combine the virtuosity and precision in each genre’s traditional disciplines with the artful song-craft and infectious live performance of today’s musical landscape.

Their version of “Joy to the World” was a hit on earlier episodes this year.

12:23 - We Banjo 3 "We Three Kings" from A Winter Wonderful

CELTIC CHRISTMAS SPOTIFY PLAYLIST: Joyful Celtic Christmas Music

16:26 - THANK YOU CHRISTMAS PATRONS

The Celtic Christmas Podcast is brought to you by the kindness of Celtic Christmas fans on Patreon. Your generosity funds the creation, promotion, and production of the show. Patrons can vote for your favorite song in each episode and they also get music-only episodes.

Thanks to our newest Christmas Patrons: O'McPub Band

Thanks to our Christmas Producer: Carol Baril

Join others to spread Christmas Cheer! Sign up for as little as $1 per episode on Patreon.

16:58 - Gaelynn Lea won NPR Music’s Tiny Desk Contest in 2016. Since then, she has captivated audiences around the world with her haunting original songs and traditional fiddle tunes. Most recently, she composed the music for Macbeth on Broadway, starring Daniel Craig and Ruth Negga.

17:26 - Gaelynn Lea "Love Came Down at Christmas / It's in Every One of Us" from Deepest Darkness, Brightest Dawn

21:39 - Bart Zeal is a Dutch songwriter of folky fantasy-themed songs. He is inspired by stories of people and places in both real-life and fantasy settings. Since November 2020, Bart creates one song a month, both covers and originals. He has a personal goal to make a living with his music by 2030. He hopes his music will create lasting connections with fans and friends, for the best thing about singing songs is finding enthusiastic listeners!

22:25 - Bart Zeal "Yule" from December Celebrations

25:04 - Brigid's Bounty "Merry Christmas Celtic Medley" from Celtic Christmas Medleys

31:26 - West of Eden is the Swedish folk-rock band that has vitalized the Celtic music scene with their unique sound and songwriting. A deep love for the traditional British and Irish folk music has earned them a solid reputation.

31:45 - West of Eden "Next Stop Christmas (with Stefan Andersson)" from Next Stop Christmas

34:53 - WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE CELTIC CHRISTMAS SONG IN THIS EPISODE?

Support the artist by buying their music and joining their mailing list, or even joining their Patreon page, just like many have done with this podcast. You can also add the song to your own Celtic music playlist.

Cast your vote for the Celtic Christmas Favorite song.

The most-popular track will be added to our Christmas playlists. You have just two weeks to vote. So… cast those votes. Then let me know if there’s a Celtic Christmas song or tune that I should add to the next episode of the show.

35:46 - Marc Gunn "Frosty the Irish Snowman” from Celtic Christmas Greetings

38:51 - CLOSING

Celtic Christmas Podcast was produced by Marc Gunn. The show was edited by Mitchell Petersen with Graphics by Miranda Nelson Designs.

The show is supported by our Christmas Patrons on Patreon. Spread cheer and vote for your favorite Christmas song in this show.

Visit our website to subscribe to the podcast. You’ll find links to all of the artists played in this episode. You’ll get access to our Celtic Christmas Playlists. You can subscribe to our Celtic Music Magazine and get 34 Celtic MP3s for Free plus, you’ll get 7 weekly news items about what’s happening with Celtic music and culture online. And best of all, you will connect with your Celtic heritage.

Finally, please tell one friend about this podcast. Word of mouth is the absolute best way to support any creative endeavor.

Promote Celtic culture through Christmas music at CelticChristmasPodcast.com.

Nollaig Shona Daoibh!

#celticchristmas #celticchristmasmusic #frostythesnowman

Check out this episode!