#the things Audrey has to deal with | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hypexion · 2 years

Text

There was no Chloé Bourgeois Redemption Arc

It’s time to for me to write about the so-called “Redemption Arc“ for Chloé Bourgeois, of Miraculous Ladybug infamy. Many people claim that such a thing existed. These people are wrong. While Miraculous Ladybug may provide the illusion of such an arc, that’s all it is - an illusion. And like all illusions, it falls apart once you touch it.

There’s also some questionable takes in regards to exactly how responsible Marinette is meant to be for Chloé’s “redemption”, which need to be tackled since they help feed into the illusion. And also because I find them deeply offensive. To me, personally.

A neccesary preface here is that I’m not saying Chloé is incapable of redemption. What I am saying, however, is that during seasons two and three of Miraculous Ladybug, the redemption arc people claim existed clearly did not.

Redemption 101

In the most basic sense, a redemption arc is a type of character arc where a bad character decides to stop being bad and start being good. Along the way, it’s generally accepted that they need to atone for their bad actions, and perhaps do something to reverse the damage such actions have caused. A critical component required for this to work is that the character both understands that their actions are harmful, and so decides to act in a better way.

Probably the most famous redemption arc in western animation is Zuko’s, from Avatar: The Last Airbender. Zuko begins the show as an antagonist, directly attempting to capture Aang, the Avatar and Last Airbender. Doing so will allow the Fire Nation to win the war, and also complete their genocide of the Air Nomad people. However, Zuko realises that supporting the Fire Nation’s bid for world domination is harmful to others, and himself. By the end of the series, he has rejected the worldview of his father, grandfather and great grandfather, and indeed helps Aang defeat the Firelord. Along the way, Zuko find a way to help not just Aang, but also Katara and Sokka, who are also victims of Fire Nation Imperialism. Zuko earns redemption not through the decision to be good, but by performing good, and in many cases, reparative actions.

Honestly, from this basic definition, I think it’s pretty obvious that Chloé hadn’t even started the first step of a redemption arc by the time she betrays Ladybug in Miracle Queen. She never accepts her actions are wrong, makes no attempt to change them without an ulterior motive, and generally continues to do bad things for bad reasons. But in spite of this, the claims of this mythical redemption arc don’t just exist, they are considered generally accepted. Why? It’s complicated, yet simple.

Chloé Who?

On a basic level, Chloé Bourgeois is fairly generic character - the “mean girl“ school bully, who torments the protagonist, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. In keeping with Miraculous’ superhero genre, Chloé admires Ladybug, Marinette’s superhero alter-ego. How ironic! Generally, Chloé acts as a minor, civilian-level antagonist to Marinette, who gets in the way, while being clearly much less of a deal than Hawk Moth. However, due to the mechanics of akumatization, Chloé’s actions often spiral into larger, supervillain-shaped consequences. Because while she may fit into the bully archetype, there is one thing that makes her somewhat atypical: a reach that extends far beyond the school setting.

André Bourgeois is his daughter’s primary enabler. As a rich person and Mayor of Paris, he has a significant amount of influence. Influence he makes freely available to Chloé for basically any purpose. No grudge is too petty, no problem too small when it comes to indulging her whims, and no bridge is too big burn. Nobody who theoretically has the authority to say no to Chloé actually can, because her father is implicitly approving her every action. It’s hardly a shock that Chloé is consistently terrible when she faces no consequences for her actions.

But there’s one last piece in the Chloé puzzle - Audrey Bourgeois. Chloé really wants her mother’s approval, but her mother lives in another country. Audrey is also a terrible person, a character who is literally defined by her vileness. She has Chloé’s attitude, and André’s level of influence, and like her daughter, immediately throws a tantrum when she can’t get her way. The attention Audrey gives towards her daughters is primarily negative, and that’s when she actually pays attention to them. Thus, Audrey provides Chloé with a Tragic Backstory, and some much needed Sympathy Points. This, of course, forms the foundation of the Redemption Illusion.

The thing about Chloé’s relationship (or lack thereof) with her mother is while it explains her behavior, it doesn’t excuse it. The harm she inflicts is no less because of it, and many of her actions cannot be ignored due to it. I think there’s a pretty obviously piece of bad logic here. Many characters who undergo redemption arcs are often sympathetic villains. Chloé is a sympathetic villain. But that doesn’t mean that Despair Bear, the episode that introduces this sympathetic side is the start of, nor the foundation of a redemption arc. If anything, Despair Bear shows the primary reason why Chloé isn’t on the path to redemption - her attempts to be “nice“ are motivated entirely to maintain her friendship with Adrien, and once she has what she wants, she immediately reverts to her normal behaviour. This theme of apparently good acts being done for selfish reasons will be repeated later.

Marinette: Victim, Not Victimizer

An important part of the Redemption Illusion is how it ultimately revolves around not just Chloé, but Marinette. Chloé is nothing but negative towards Marinette, but at the same time admires Ladybug... who is Marinette. This isn’t Alya style “wow look how cool and heroic she is“ style admiration, however. No, Chloé, in a sense, wants to be Ladybug. First by pretending to be her, and later via the Bee Miraculous, which would seem to put her on the same level as Ladybug. But since Ladybug is Marinette, this can only lead to conflict.

While Chloé has perpetrated many on-screen acts that are selfish, obnoxious and downright cruel, something that manages to slip under the radar is her pre-Origins treatment of Marinette. Sabine’s comment about how long Marinette and Chloé have been in the same class indicates that the latter has been bullying the former for at least three years. This has evidently damaged Marinette’s self-confidence, since even after being Ladybug in part one of Origins, she still thinks she can’t do it, and tries to give it up. She also doesn’t dispute Alya’s rather hasty assessment of Chloé as evil, and immediately assumes that Adrian is a bad person because he’s friends with Chloé.

Marinette’s relationship with Chloé is already poisoned at the start of the show. And it’s entirely Chloé’s fault. She didn’t have to bully Marinette. Being cruel to Marinette wouldn’t earn Chloé her mother’s approval. All it achieves is making Chloé feel better, by making Marinette suffer. Three years of bullying isn’t something you can ignore. It’s not something Marinette can simply “get over”, even as Ladybug. She probably hates Chloé, and every drop of enmity is earned. But how can I know this all from the limited picture painted by Origins, and the glimpses into Marinette’s pre-Ladybug life? I don’t. This isn’t something I needed to find from the text or subtext of the show. So then, how do I know?

I know because I lived it. When I was Marinette’s age, I was bullied. A lot. It hurt. But what people don’t want to acknowledge is that being a victim of bullying doesn’t just make you sad. It’s deeper than that. It made me angry. At the perpetrators, and the staff who let it happen, no matter how many times it was brought to their attention. It’s took me years to realise just how much it affected me, how my aggressive behaviour in certain online spaces might be connected to it. In Marinette, I see a part of myself. So when I see people claim that Marinette is somehow to blame for Chloé’s actions, that “Marinette should have given Chloé a chance“, it makes me a little angry. If someone told me I should be responsible for making my bullies better people, I’d tell them to fuck off.

Attempting to shift the responsibility for repairing Chloé’s bad behaviour on to Marinette is simply victim blaming with extra steps. Yes, Marinette is Ladybug, hero of Paris. But Marinette is also Marinette, a long-term victim of Chloé, and someone who Chloé continues to try to abuse, even if the efficacy is no longer there. It’s also not really fair to Chloé, either, when you think about it. Marinette is positioned to think the worst of Chloé, meaning she��s likely to see any regression on Chloé’s part as proof that the whole endevour is pointless. For Chloé to escape her toxic behaviour, she needs help from someone she hasn’t caused significant damage to.

And as with the rest of the Redemption Illusion, you have to ignore a lot of the text to make the idea that Marinette is somehow to blame seem reasonable. Marinette shows more compassion to Chloé than Chloé does to anyone in her entirety. It simply doesn’t help, because Chloé doesn’t want Ladybug to be nice to her, she wants Ladybug to accept her as an equal. And when that isn’t given, Chloé isn’t above trying to take it, with disasterous results.

Bad Bee-haviour

A key point in Zuko’s redemption arc is when he joins Team Avatar. This is when he truly abandons the ideals of Fire Nation Imperialism, and chooses to work directly against them. It’s not the end, but a midpoint. And it’s not a reward - it’s a duty, a commitment to help Aang defeat Ozai. I think it’s worth noting that Zuko actually gets weaker due to this, as he can no longer draw on his negative emotions to firebend. Only by helping Aang discover the pre-imperialism version of Firebending does he regain the ability himself. Rejecting the negative brings Zuko so far, but to be complete he must embrace a positive alternative.

Chloé’s transformation into Queen Bee is her anti-Zuko moment. She doesn’t work to attain it - the Bee Miraculous is literally dropped into her path. It gives her power, yes, which she immediately abuses. Queen Bee doesn’t exist to do good, like the other four heroes at the time. No, Queen Bee exists to exalt Chloé. Becoming a hero doesn’t move her to toward redemption. If anything, it moves her away from it.

It all comes back to Chloé’s first act as Queen Bee. In an attempt to prove that she’s “exceptional“, she transforms and tries to find a problem to solve. But when she can’t find one, she chooses to create one. By paralysing a train conductor, which ends up creating a problem she can’t solve. If it weren’t for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s timely intervention, a lot of people would have been injured, or even killed. All because Chloé wanted to seem like a “hero”. It’s an act so callous that it should have marked the end of her career as Queen Bee. It’s instant, irrevocable proof that she can’t be trusted with a Miraculous, because she nearly murdered a bunch of people with it.

But even if you ignore the train incident, being Queen Bee clearly doesn’t make Chloé better. In both Stormy Weather 2 and Miracular, her cruelty is what triggers an akumatization. In Animaestro, she forms a truce with Marinette entirely for the purpose of harassing Kagami. These are not the actions of someone trying to be a better person. Indeed, they look very much like the actions of a person who doesn’t think they need to change, and is thus continuing as usual.

Yet in spite of the lack of actual progress, Queen Bee is perhaps the keystone of the Redemption Illusion. She wants to be a hero. So it is assumed that if she wants to be a hero, she must be good. I suppose this line of argument sounds convincing, if you only consider it on the surface level. The problem is that it falls apart when you actually examine Chloé’s actual behaviour after becoming Queen Bee. Which is mostly the same as her behaviour before, except sometimes she tries leveraging being Queen Bee for status or bullying. This is because her motivation for being a hero isn’t heroic - it’s selfish.

Malicious Queen

Of course, the Redemption Illusion eventually collided with reality in the form of Miracle Queen. When Hawk Moth offers her the Bee Miraculous, Chloé doesn’t hesitate to take it, and is then willingly akumatized. While I do think this could have had a little more setup, it’s an action that’s entirely in-character for Chloé. She’s selfish, she’s cruel, and she’s unwilling to change. But Ladybug couldn’t be bullied or blackmailed via Chloé’s normal methods. So when Hawk Moth offers her a way around Ladybug’s No, of course she takes it. She accepts akumatization because she believes that the best way to prove her superiority to Ladybug is by harming her. The same way she harmed many other characters up to this point. (Including Marinette, who is Ladybug.)

Some people attempt, in the usual poor manner, to deflect Chloé’s responsibility for her actions onto Ladybug. Gotta keep that victim blame train going, I guess. The logic is that because Ladybug chose Kagami to help fight Heart Hunter for selfish reasons, Chloé is magically absolved of her guilt. I can’t disagree that picking Kagami in order to break up her date with Adrien was a bad thing, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s not that bad. The fact of the matter is that Ladybug probably wasn’t going to bring back Queen Bee, no matter the situation. It’s not her job to make Chloé a better person, and it’s not her responsibility to stop Chloé from making bad decisions.

Marinette made a dodgy decision because of a teenage crush and suffered massively disproportionate consequences. Chloé decided to help a terrorist because she felt entitled to the Bee Miraculous, and could still go back to her incredibly privileged life afterwards. It’s Marinette who had to live with the consequences of both their actions, becoming Guardian far earlier than she should have. A consequence that only occured because Chloé decided to help Hawk Moth. Once again, Marinette is not the problem; Chloé is the problem.

Ultimately, Miracle Queen is entirely in-character for Chloé, because Chloé has never been a good person. The Redemption Illusion persists, however, because people seem to have blended her few sympathetic traits with her occational (and temporary) good actions to create a version of Chloé who doesn’t exist within the show. Along with one last act, that really isn’t as heroic as it might seem on the surface.

The One Where She Isn’t Akumatized

In Miracular, Hawk Moth tries to akumatize Chloé and fails. Up to that point, akumatization had been presented as 100% effective, with no attempts to resist being successful. This is occationally used to suggest that Chloé is becoming good, which ignores basically all information the show provides about akumatization.

Throughout Miraculous Ladybug, succumbing to akumatization is never considered to be an immoral act. Indeed, the reasons for akumatization vary, from completely unjustified selfish reasons, to justified selfish reasons and more community-minded reasons. But no matter what a victim’s starting intentions are, Hawk Moth twists them around until he can make them into a supervillain. People are even akumatized over stuff like “kids don’t respect panthers“ and “ice cream was wrong“, which aren’t really things you can appy a moral judgement to.

Since being akumatized is not a moral failure, it follows that resisting is not a moral success. While breaking the akumatization is impressive, with very few people achieving it, that doesn’t mean Chloé gets merit points for it. Indeed, Chloé resists akumatization on the basis that she believes she can still be Queen Bee. She rejects Hawk Moth’s offer not because it’s the right thing to do, but because she thinks she doesn’t need it. Which is why once it becomes clear that Ladybug won’t be giving her the Bee Miraculous, she willing accepts akumatization.

But the real killer problem is that Sabrina is able to be akumatized into Miracular because of Chloé’s actions. When Lila’s fake Ladybug dance fails, Chloé takes it out on Sabrina, in a way that’s just, look, here’s the exact quote:

PLAY? With you!? Who are YOU anyway? You don't have any powers! You're a nobody! I'm a superheroine, okay? I'm Queen Bee! You and I have NOTHING in common! Go away!

That’s a horrible thing to say to someone, especially a friend! She explicitly ties Sabrina’s worth (or lack thereof) to having powers. And the real kicker? This is the last thing she does before the failed akumatization. Out of context, Chloé resisting akumatization might seem heroic. With this context? It’s anything but.

The Overdue Conclusion

Ultimately, a Redemption Arc is a narrative process for developing a character. It’s a trope, a storytelling pattern. The key element of such an arc is change. A static character cannot undergo a redemption arc (or indeed any arc), because the arc is the process of transformation, of becoming a better person. Not just on the surface, but in a fundamental way. A post redemption character is, in some ways, a different person to who they were before.

During seasons two and three of Miraculous Ladybug, Chloé does not change in such a way. She’s just as cruel and spiteful after becoming Queen Bee as she is before. She does bad things for bad reasons. Her motivation for being Queen Bee is entirely selfish. Indeed, while there is some feeling of a divide between Marinette and Ladybug, Queen Bee is simply Chloé with superpowers. And while she may be a victim of abuse from Audrey, that doesn’t mean she is excused from abusing others herself.

Chloé’s tragic flaw is her desire to be exceptional, in a way that places her above other people. This is why she fails to change. In the narrative of Miraculous Ladybug, the exceptional that matters is to be exceptionally kind, exceptionally couragous, exceptionally selfless. Character traits which Chloé displays sparingly and insufficently, because she believes she is above them. But without humility, there can be no change. Without change, there can no redemption. And while others might provide a catalyst for such a change, ultimately it must come from within.

The concluding point is that I still don’t think there was a Chloé Bourgeois Redemption Arc, but I can sort of see how you’d fall into thinking one existed. But when you actually examine the character’s behaviour, the illusion quickly crumbles. At this point, the whole thing has clearly taken on a life of its own beyond the source material, and is perhaps unstoppable. Will my long, somewhat rambly Tumblr post make much of a difference? Perhaps not.

But there are harmful ideas attached to it. As long as people try to make Marinette responsible for Chloé’s actions, it adds, however slightly, to the notion that the abused are responsible for the actions of their abusers. In many respects, I don’t care that strongly about these particular fictional characters. Yet other people do, and in doing so I see how they distort the role of victim and victimizer, and I care about that. I understand that it’s not a big serious issue, but it matters to me. So I’ll say my piece, and move on to other thoughts.

#miraculous ladybug #ml meta #ml fandom salt

2K notes · View notes

wearethekat · 3 months

Text

Anticipated New Releases of 2024

**As anticipated by Me. Mostly SFF. Links are to goodreads because that's what I use, sorry. Anything marked "new to me" I haven't read anything by that author before and therefore can't vouch for the quality. I just think the premise is neat.**

Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands, Heather Fawcett (16 January)

Sequel to the charming novel about the fairy anthropologist.

Exordia, Seth Dickinson (23 January)

Well, it isn't a new Baru Cormorant, but this modern SF about first contact may be the next best thing.

City of Stardust, Georgia Summers (30 January)

New to me. A young woman descends into the underworld in order to break her family's fatal curse.

The Tainted Cup, Robert Jackson Bennett (6 February)

New to me. A sherlock holmes flavored duo solves the mystery of the murder of an imperial official in a labyrinthine fantasy realm.

What Feasts at Night, T Kingfisher (13 February)

The sequel to the mushroom horror book What Moves the Dead.

The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden (13 February)

A ghost story set in WW1 about a woman searching for her missing brother.

The Fox Wife, Yangsze Choo (13 February)

New to me. A detective in 1908 Manchuria investigates a young woman's death in an area full of mythical foxes.

Redsight, Meredith Mooring (27 February)

New to me. Unpowered priestess and Imperial pawn is set on a collision path with a pirate with a grudge for the Imperium (Gay romance).

Sunbringer, Hannah Kaner (12 March)

Sequel about the professional godkiller Kissen.

Jumpnauts, Hao Jingfang (12 March)

New to me. A SF novel in translation from Chinese, with three scientists joining forces to deal peacefully with a first contact situation.

The Woods All Black, Lee Mandelo (19 March)

I liked Mandelo's debut novel very much so I'm excited to read this queer horror novella set in 1920s Appalachia.

Floating Hotel, Grace Curtis (19 March)

New to me. A series of cozy character vignettes on a space cruise ship after a murder has occurred. One of the four (!) space hotel murder crimes books coming out this year.

The Emperor and the Endless Palace, Justinian Huang (26 March)

New to me. Reincarnation gay romance set in 4 BCE China, the 1740s, and modern-day LA.

Alien Clay, Adrian Tchaikovsky (28 March)

Far future space xenoarchaeology by a man trapped on a prison planet.

Someone You Can Build a Nest In, John Wiswell (2 April)

New to me. Bizarre lesbian cannibalism monster romance from the point of view of the monster.

The Familiar, Leigh Bardugo (9 April)

Glad to see Bardugo writing more adult fantasy, and this one is especially exciting because it's a fantasy set in early modern Spain with a Jewish main character. Fun to see a more original historical period.

A Sweet Sting of Salt, Rose Sutherland (9 April)

New to me. Lesbian selkie romance.

Death in the Spires, KJ Charles (11 April)

Charles branching out from romance into historical Oxford murder mystery about a group of friends with dark secrets.

Audrey Lane Stirs The Pot, Alexis Hall (22 April)

The new Hall thinly veiled british baking show romcom. Libby says it's releasing in April but I've heard nothing from the author so I think it may be Alecto'd (shifted to next year)

Necrobane, Daniel M Ford (23 April)

Sequel to the dungeons and dragons-esque low fantasy lesbian necromancy book.

A Letter to the Luminous Deep, Sylvie Cathrall (25 April)

New to me. Sweet underwater epistolary academic romance.

How To Become the Dark Lord and Die Trying, Django Wexler (21 May)

New to me. A young hero caught in a fantasy time loop gives up and tries being the villain in an attempt to escape.

Goddess of the River, Vaishnavi Patel (21 May)

Another woman-centered retelling of Hindu mythology, this time based on the river goddess Ganga.

Escape Velocity, Victor Manibo (21 May)

New to me. Evil and toxic private school alumni jockey for position in a space hotel event in an attempt to escape a dying Earth.

The Fireborne Blade, Charlotte Bond (28 May)

New to me. Gay dragon slaying knight novella.

Evocation, ST Gibson (28 May)

New to me but looks very cool. Attorney and medium David attempts to escape his deal with the devil with the help of his ex boyfriend and his ex boyfriend's wife (Poly romance).

Service Model, Adrian Tchaikovsky (4 June)

In an SF future, a robot kills its human owners and ventures out into a world where human supremacy is beginning to crumble.

Lady Eve's Last Con, Rebecca Fraimow (4 June)

New to me. A con artist seeks revenge on the man who hurt her sister, who's coincidentally also on a space cruise ship (Sapphic romance subplot).

Triple Sec, TJ Alexander (4 June)

An actual mainstream published poly romance (!!) by trans author Alexander.

Running Close to the Wind, Alexandra Rowland (11 June)

Gay! Pirates! Scheming! Alt fantasy world! Monks! I liked Taste of Gold and Iron a lot and I'm very excited for this one.

The Knife and the Serpent, Tim Pratt (11 June)

New to me. Space opera about an interdimensional organization. Also, there's a sentient starship.

The Witchstone, Henry Neff (18 June)

A childhood favorite of mine's adult debut, featuring a demon who suddenly has to shape up at his curse keeper job after eight hundred years of slacking.

Rakesfall, Vajra Chandrasekera (18 June)

VERY excited to read more weird queer sff from this author after a fantastic debut. Looks weird. I'm in.

Foul Days, Genoveva Dimova (25 June)

New to me. A witch in a Slavic fantasy inspired world flees her evil ex, the Tsar of Monsters. There's also a plague and a detective.

Saints of Storm and Sorrow, Gabriella Buba (25 June)

New to me. Filipino inspired anticolonialist fantasy novel about a nun who is secretly practicing the religion of her goddess.

The Duke at Hazard, KJ Charles (18 July)

A queer regency with an incognito duke by one of my particular favorite romance authors.

Long Live Evil, Sarah Rees Brennan (30 July)

!!! Very excited to see a new adult fantasy by Brennan. A reader is dragged into a fictional world and finds herself the villain.

A Sorceress Comes to Call, T Kingfisher (20 August)

A retelling of The Goose Girl from reliably good fairy tale stalwart Kingfisher.

Buried Deep and Other Stories, Naomi Novik (17 September)

Collection of Novik's short stories.

Swordcrossed, Freya Marske (8 October)

VERY excited to see a new book by talented writer Marske. A man falls in love with the duelist hired for his arranged wedding. MEANWHILE. details of the fantasy world wool industry.

Feast While You Can, Mikaella Clements and Onjuli Datta (29 October)

New to me. Small town queer cave horror.

The Last Hour Between Worlds, Melissa Caruso (19 November)

Multiple reality murder mystery spy vs spy type antics, with lesbians.

#book recommendations #on the tbr #now I would Like to put alecto the ninth on this but as we know. NO news (sobs)#long post #updated 3/8 with more books I've added since I posted this

118 notes · View notes

macbooth · 10 months

Text

full of childish whimsy in a hostile fashion tonight so here’s every shakespeare clown i can think of and whether or not i think i’d beat them in a fight

(i do not mean fools i mean clowns. they do not need to be the secret genius of the play. if they are stupid in every way shape or form i am including them here)

Puck (A Midsummer Night’s Dream) No chance. Bro’s got that magic and ALSO has a big strong scary fairy king as his bear, like, do not separate them. If I even tried throwing hands at this cunt I’d get torn to shreds and used as glitter dude, I’d be over. 0/10

Nick Bottom (A Midsummer Night’s Dream) I could but I’d feel bad. I also think he’d put up a really solid fight. Like this is out of donkey form, bro was a physical worker. Like I reckon I could win a fight with some of the tradies I’ve seen but I don’t think it’d be easy. Also he’s just really dumb so I would feel a little bad. Donkey form though, I’m running away. Scary as shit. I am afraid of horses though. 6.5/10

Touchstone (As You Like It) Absolutely I could beat the shit out of this man. I hate him so much. Full of hostility towards this fucker. His clothes aren’t even subtle I could find this bitch in the forest no time and hunt him down and rip him to shreds, fuckin court jester doesn’t even have the roughness of the country on his side. 9/10 (-1 point cause he definitely fights dirty but I just hate him so much I’d win)

Jaques (As You Like It) First off he’s absolutely a clown. Second off I’ve played him before so my word is gospel. Third off bro has no fucking chance against me. He’s a podcast bro who thinks I don’t know that Tame Impala is one dude. I’d ask him why we can’t print more money and he would explode instantly and it would be the funniest thing he did with his life. 10/10

Audrey & Corin (As You Like It) I’m lumping these two together cause in the show I did they were one character (and I also played them). I wouldn’t even want to fight these two. And even if I wanted to Audrey would absolutely be able to beat the shit out of me and I would thank her. Our setting was in semi-modern country Australia, that girl would have a shotgun. 2/10

Autolycus (Winter’s Tale) Just like Jaques to me. He might be a little bit harder because he’d change costume and I’d get confused because I have no object permanence but other than that what has he got. Bitterness? Resentment? Bitch so did I when I was 15 grow up experience love. 8/10

Falstaff (Henry IV parts 1 & 2, Merry Wives of Windsor) I don’t actually know about this one but he is very punchable. I feel like he’d let me punch him and I think one punch would be enough for me. I think that would satisfy my urge to punch him. He may be a knight but let’s be honest he’s shit at it so I stand by this. 4/10 (just cause I don’t really give a shit)

The Dromios (Comedy of Errors) I absolutely could beat them in a fight but I would feel So Bad. You see how they’re literally already treated in the play, I wanna give them a break. That being said they’re both kinda dicks but they’re going through it already so I’d wanna give them a breather. I would win though, even if they both were attacking at once. 7/10

Launcelot Gobbo (Merchant of Venice) He’s such a prick but I would be laughing too hard at his name to fight him. Bro’s name is Gobbo. Bro’s name is basically Gobby. Imagine being named Blowjob. I would lose my mind. I would laugh so so hard I would collapse. My heart would fail. Biggest L name out there bro. Launcelot Gobbo oh my god. 3/10

Launce (Two Gentlemen of Verona) Nah man he has an attack dog. I don’t care what breed of dog Crab is in a production I fully believe he would kill for Launce, that’s just their dynamic. I understand them better than anyone else (I have a dog). Also he’s already working for Proteus, is that not punishment enough? 4/10

Speed (Two Gentlemen of Verona) I mean I definitely could fight him. I don’t imagine he’s got much fighting experience. But once again, he has to deal with Valentine which does feel like it would be cruel to inflict more onto him. Like Valentine’s not as bad as Proteus but fuck is he stupid. Also if I accidentally flubbed a punch Speed could absolutely tear me a new asshole with his words and I would sob and cry and literally never recover. 4/10

The Porter (Macbeth) Fuck no. Bro definitely has a knife on him at all times. I can’t explain why I think this I just do. He works night shift, he definitely doesn’t get paid enough for his dog shit job, he would absolutely try to stab me just to spice up his evening without me starting a fight. 1/10

Trinculo (Tempest) Yes. Sorry, you’re Russell Brand? L. I could kick your ass. And he’s like drunk for half the show, and almost fucked a fish. I doubt his judgement is good enough to say the alphabet backwards let alone dodge a punch. He couldn’t even get Caliban to kick my ass (who definitely could by the way) cause Caliban fucking hates him. Bro, failwife to Stephano should pay more. But it doesn’t. 8.5/10

Dogberry (Much Ado About Nothing) Without Verges? Yes. With Verges? No way. Those two are a power couple in the dumbest possible way. He would absolutely try to get me arrested though but I simply would not go to prison. What’s he gonna do? Send me to prison? I’m already not going. 7/10

Mercutio (Romeo and Juliet) No chance. Unless Romeo fucked up so bad like he did in the actual play, I would have no chance against this dude. I wouldn’t even want to even if I could. I’m a Benvolio stan first and foremost and a person second you think I’d wanna fight his bestie? Only exception is if it was an actual fight club and not just a pure fight out of hatred. I feel like Mercutio could give Brad Pitt Fight Club Realness, outfits included. I would still lose though. 2.5/10

Don Adriano De Armado (Love’s Labour’s Lost) I reckon I could wreck this dude’s shit. You know that gif where the fuckin dude is doing all these cool sword moves and then he just gets shot? You know the one. I forgot where it’s from but you know the one. That would be this fight. Armado would bust out his flair, his razzle dazzle, his pizzaz, and I would just deck him I think. That’s the power you need in this world, I think. Power of fist to face. Peace and love. <3 8/10

Costard (Love’s Labour’s Lost) I do not think Costard would realise he was being fought even as he was actively getting hit in the face. I know how to say honorificabilitudinitatibus, he doesn’t even have that against me. Bro couldn’t even confuse me with that, I learnt that, like an adult. Anyway yeah I’d kick his ass. 9/10

Holofernes & Sir Nathaniel (Love’s Labour’s Lost) This is the same man to me. I would destroy them both. Fuckin nerds. Flowery ass language nerds. I support gay rights and gay wrongs but the only reason I couldn’t fight those two gay muppets who heckle is cause they’re too far away (in a theatre booth), these two gay muppets who heckle are right in front of me. I’d kick their tweed cladded asses. 10/10

Jaquenetta (Love’s Labour’s Lost) She is just like Audrey to me. I could never bring myself to hurt her. Also she’s pregnant and I feel like it’s fucked up to hit a pregnant woman just for fun. Also she could absolutely wreck my shit. Please wreck my shit Jaquenetta. 0.5/10

Moth (Love’s Labour’s Lost) This little fucker should be an INSTANT knock out but I just know this fucker bites. He’s a shit talking 8 year old? Oh he plays wolves on the playground, I just know it. He plays wolves and he’s definitely been suspended for it, I just know it in my heart. Sure, I could kick him, but he would grab hold of my foot and try to rip it off. We would shake hands and agree to part ways, having met our match. He, who plays wolves, and me, who played fairies, leave the fight with our heads high and respect in our hearts. I am kidding of course but I do think we would tie. 5/10

Lear’s Fool (King Lear) There’s already so much fighting going on, I don’t even think they’d notice if I just started kicking this dude. Not only could I fight him and win, I think I’d get away with it too. I’d win not only physically but socially too. What’s he gonna do? Tell his boss? Bro he’s preoccupied with his whole kingdom crumbling, grow up. 9/10

Lavatch (All’s Well That Ends Well) This is more meta but my hatred of this play would fuel me here. I would fight literally anyone in this play if given the chance, not a joke. I would get in the ring with literally anyone from this play, but honestly, out of them all I weirdly respect Lavatch the most, maybe because he at least knows that he’s a cunt, unlike literally everyone else who Just Suck. I do think he’s probably scrappy though, so I wouldn’t leave unscathed. I also think if he got the upper hand he would be so so awful about it, so I’d really have to fight. 6/10

Sir Toby Belch & Sir Andrew Aguecheek (Twelfth Night) Andrew is canonically bad at fighting, and honestly I do not believe Toby would be any better. Love both of these guys but if I had to fight them both at once I think I would be able to just move out of the way and they’d bonk each other on the head like a cartoon. They’re just silly guys. 9/10

Maria (Twelfth Night) Every woman clown could beat my ass. Audrey, Jaquenetta, Maria, they are all so special to me and would all also fucking destroy me. Maria especially cause I just know she is full of hate. You don’t hatch a plan like the Malvolio plan unless there’s something deeply worrying about you. She’s a Scorpio to me. <3 I do love her, she’d demolish me. 0/10

Feste (Twelfth Night) Would actually kill me. -5/10

I know I’ve definitely missed some but uhhh don’t expect me to remember every clown even if I’m neurodivergent about these plays please. <3

203 notes · View notes

muddyorbsblr · 1 year

Text

why him?

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @fictive-sl0th

Summary: An invitation to a Thanksgiving family reunion was sent addressed to you and Loki, and you're not exactly all that excited to face everyone after over a decade of no contact.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Audrey and her grade-A parenting…and she's got friends this time; family drama; hints of Loki's insecurity over his brother if you squint; language (get over it, Rogers) [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

The air was unreasonably thick as the car drove through the streets of your old neighborhood, the layout hauntingly familiar to you and growing increasingly stifling as you passed each picturesque home. Every single one of those houses looked like they didn't age a day, the paint jobs pristinely done to ensure they looked as good as when its owners moved in over a decade and a half ago.

The lawns were a uniform obnoxious radiant green, a blatant show of affluence that yes, you were in a neighborhood that could afford to allocate obscene amounts of water to maintain the lush green hue of a patch of land that nobody could walk on. All for the sake of display.

"My love, I rarely ever say these words to anyone besides myself, but you must calm yourself." The feel of a large hand taking yours and fingers lacing through yours brought you out of your trance, not realizing that you'd been incessantly shaking your leg until Loki placed his free hand on top of it to stop you. "We can still turn around and head home instead. We need not face these people if even the thought of seeing them again has you shaking this way."

"I just don't get it," you murmured, relaxing your posture to let the god maneuver you and place you onto his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. You could practically feel your nerves melting away as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, the backs of his fingers stroking along your spine making you lean into him all the more. "Why now? After all this time?"

"Perhaps they wish to show you off," he grunted, sighing when he felt you tense up again after his words. "I don't wish to think ill of the very people that brought you into this world as I owe them a great debt for that alone, but if they had made the monumental mistake of ceasing to be a part of your life for so long, then my mind cannot help but think of ulterior motives on their part."

"Maybe they need me to win a pissing contest," you added, rolling your eyes. "But if that's the case then why didn't they reach out when I got into the Avengers Program? When Tony announced me as a new member of the team? How come after years of my mother voicing how disappointed she's been in me straying from the family business, suddenly we're--Holy fuck I know what it is." His light squeeze at your side prompted you to continue. "It's you."

"I'm afraid you've lost me there, darling. How is it--"

"Think about it," you kept going. "What happened days before we got the invitation? And just the fact that they addressed the invitation to both of us. Not just me and telling me that I can bring my boyfriend. The invitation said Y/N and Loki. They're not out to brag about me to their pretentious fuckwits at the country club. They're out to brag about you."

"Y/N that's absurd--"

"It's makes complete sense and you know it," you insisted. "We went public just a few days before we got that invitation--" He cut you off with a pointed look, challenging your spin on the situation. "Okay fine, people took photos of us out on a date and before theories got out of hand I tweeted 'Yeah we're dating. Deal with it.' and gave Pepper a migraine, same difference. Anyway, that happens, and suddenly they want me at Thanksgiving? That's not a coincidence, sweetie."

He pressed his forehead to yours, letting out a long sigh as he wrapped his arms tighter around you. "Say the word and we can call off this charade. I will speak with Stark and tell him we truly do not need these people as stakeholders if it comes at the cost of your peace."

Your heart swelled at his offer, knowing full well that he was more than ready to put an end to this shitstorm before it even began. But you also knew that a guilt would always eat away at you if you didn't so much as try. You owed Tony a great deal, after all, especially considering that he didn't even hold it against you when you outright refused to participate in that skirmish back in Germany and also proceeded to refer to all the parties that took part in it "a bunch of babies incapable of just talking it out instead".

"I have to at least try," you muttered, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. "At the very least it'd be nice to see my little sister again. Scare her fiancé within an inch of his sanity if he even thinks of hurting her."

"If you're sure, darling. But if at any point you wish to leave, let me know. We'll be home in seconds. Leave Stark's transportation behind. Surely Hogan will be able to find his way back to the compound."

"I heard that," a voice broke through the speakers on your side of the divider. "Look if you two have to make the dramatic exit a heads up would be nice is all I'm saying. Don't wanna have to spend a second longer in here than we have to, you know?"

"Happy I get you, but I'm sure you know by now that if we're gonna be texting you about a dramatic exit, by the time you read it, we'll already be back in our apartment." His groan over the speakers was all the agreement you needed. "Just--if anyone in that house asks you any questions, say it's classified information under Tony's orders or some shit. I don't want anyone in there knowing a goddamn thing. Nosy pretentious asshats." You grumbled the last part under your breath, earning a chuckle from the god still cradling you in his arms.

"Well I hope your poker face is ready, Y/N," Happy spoke up again. "Because we're about three houses away and a woman that looks like an older Botox'd to the high heavens and bleach blonde version of you is waiting by the mailbox."

"I'm assuming the woman he's describing is your mother?"

You nodded, refusing to lift your head from Loki's shoulder as if it would somehow prolong -- maybe even prevent -- the inevitable. "Fucking Audrey."

"Should I be especially cautious around anyone?"

You scoffed at the question. "Everyone. Just as a rule of thumb, if any of my aunts corner you and ask you about sleeping habits or stamina, call me. If anyone touches you anywhere that only I should be touching and not in front of a live audience unless we're feeling especially risqué, shout and I'll beat them up and make a scene so crazy it'll make Wade proud."

"I don't think you should pride yourself on your ability to incur that Wilson's pride, darling," he cautioned you with a soft chuckle. "But I will make sure to take your words to heart." You let out a whiny whimper as he eased you off his lap and seated you beside him, feeling the car coming to a stop. "Shall we?"

You placed your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he exited the car before helping you out as well. When you saw the obviously newly bleached blonde middle aged woman approaching you, you could feel Loki's thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand the moment you began to tense up. "Mother," you spoke up, smiling through gritted teeth. "Thank you for extending the invitation. Let me introduce you to Loki, we work together and we…also live together. He's my boyfriend."

Every nerve in your body tensed itself for a fight the second she gave him a head-to-toe look, her eyes so visibly dismissive and judgmental. "It was your father that extended the invitation. Come on, we shouldn't keep him waiting." And then she turned around and walked back toward the house, completely ignoring the god's outstretched hand to shake.

"What in the actual fuck?" you muttered, both of you giving each other a look before following Audrey into your childhood home.

The second the door opened you saw a familiar dark-haired ball of energy running toward you for a hug. "Y/N holy fuck you actually came!" your sister Stella squealed, the impact of her embrace making you let go of your boyfriend's hand. "I fucking missed you so much!"

"It's great to see you too, sis," you chuckled, returning her embrace as you took a look around the house that barely resembled your home from years past. "Any idea why they sent the invite, though? I mean I don't wanna sound like a right bitch but--"

"The short version is that Dad saw a video of you on a mission last year and he started missing you. When you went viral a few weeks ago after those photos of you and your boyfriend went around, he decided it's been too long since he's seen you and he wanted to meet you. And Loki. He just wants to meet the guy who made you smile the way you do in the pictures. You seem really happy with him."

You beamed at her words. "I really am, Stell. Actually I was wondering if you and your fiancé would be up to it, we could all meet up next time you're in the city." If it was possible, her smile got even wider at your offer. "I never wanted to be the first to show weakness since Audrey would fucking jump in glee at that but…I really fucking missed you, too, моя маленькая сестра."

The wonder that entered her eyes tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you so much of how she looked before you'd left home all those years ago. Back when she was still smack dab in the middle of high school. "What was that you just said?"

"My little sister." She let out a childlike giggle as she wrapped her arms around you again. "Nat's been teaching me mainly so we can talk shit. The only ones who can tell what we're talking about are Loki, his brother, and Bucky."

"Ohh if you knew how fucking thirsty everyone's been on the family group chat over literally everyone you just mentioned. Oop--you should probably go save your mans from some of them because our aunts? Well, let's just say they got handsy over my Nate, and he's nowhere near as built as your--"

"Say less," you muttered, walking toward the aunts in question. There were three of them standing in front of your boyfriend, the closest being Brenda who was basically the slutty wine mom version of Audrey, and she was about to reach out and place an overly manicured hand complete with long coffin acrylic nails on Loki's arm.

You put a stop to her wine-aided show of interest in people that weren't hers inches before acrylic met cotton, your hand catching her wrist in a thinly-veiled death grip and earning you an incredulous head-to-toe look from her. "Why, little horsey, what's gotten into--"

"Touch him, and it will be the last time you have hands, Brenda," you seethed, placing enough pressure against the joint of her thumb to let her know you weren't kidding. "I might be one of the non-enhanced members of my team, but that doesn't mean I can't break your hand like a fucking toothpick. And since you can't seem to remember anything you were taught as a child, let me just refresh your decaying memory. Touch that which belongs to someone else and lose a fucking limb."

She struggled to free her hand from your grip for a few moments before you made a show of "graciously" letting go, the three women stumbling away from you and the raven-haired Asgardian, a look of caution in their eyes as they made their way back to the kitchen. "Can I steal that line from you, little bunny?"

You turned towards the source of the new voice, a smile stretching across your face as you met eyes with you father. The only other friendly face you'd seen so far besides Stella since stepping foot in this house. This time around you were the one running for a hug, nearly sending him stumbling back from the impact. "I'll even teach you where to apply pressure."

"Horse? Bunny?" You broke the embrace to turn back towards Loki. "Any particular reason why your familial nicknames are based on animals?"

"When my permanent teeth were coming in, my front teeth looked a little too big for my face, so…" You trapped your bottom lip under your front teeth and wiggled your nose like a bunny, making him chuckle as you stepped back into his embrace before pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Horse is because I had an overbite and despite growing into it, Brenda always fucking neighed whenever I stepped into the room."

"Darling, that's horrid."

"That's Brenda for you," your dad retorted, holding out a hand toward the god. "I'm Thatcher. I apologize for Y/N's mother. And her sisters. And my sisters."

The tension that had knots forming all over you began to relax by the slightest as you slipped out of Loki's hold, leaving him to talk with your father in relative peace compared to how you began your re-entry into this chapter of your life that felt too full of ghosts you thought you'd exorcised a long time ago.

"The last time I saw her this happy she was a little girl twirling around in a yellow princess dress getting ready for Halloween trick or treating around the neighborhood. Do you--have that? Back in…?"

"Asgard?" Loki finished for your father. "We do not. In truth Y/N was the one that kept me apprised of all the traditions mortals have in this realm. And the sweets that children tend to hoard during that time of year. We still have some from this year's festivities in our apartment left over from when she handed them out to the children."

"Is that how you and her became a thing?"

The god let out a mix between a chuckle and a sharp exhale as the memories of the early days of your relationship came back to him. "No. Those days we were simply friends. I'd only started truly courting her earlier this year. It was my brother that tipped us both off that we were as you mortals would say…dancing around each other? Truly I'd been taken with her the moment we met, I just never dared think she would return the sentiment. Since then I'd barely ever left her side." He looked to you, speaking with your sister once more as you both walked down the hall toward the kitchen, heart pounding in his chest as his mind was bombarded with the thought of perhaps living in a home similar to this with you one day, perhaps starting a family of your own. "You raised a remarkable woman, you should be very proud of her."

"I have been. I've always been. Honestly the only reason I haven't reached out to her sooner is I knew she wouldn't want to see most of the people in this house since they're the ones that practically drove her out all those years ago. But getting hit with the realization that my little girl was building a future that I wasn't going to be a part of felt so wrong to me. I only wanted for us to reconnect but the second Audrey and the rest of the family heard I was planning to reach out they took over. Invited themselves. Turned it into this entire thing."

"Apologies but I don't quite follow. She talked as if she knew that this would be a full family affair. Braced herself for it, even."

"That's only because she knows her mother painfully well, always sticking her business in places it didn't belong," he grumbled. "I don't know if she told you, but her mother and I have been separated since years before she even left the house. Our families have just been so tangled up with one another that I can't seem to escape as cleanly as my daughter did. Really I only planned for this to have been a simple meal shared with maybe Stella and her fiancé. I should have met with her instead, fuck I really clowned with this whole thing."

"Something that Y/N told me throughout my acclimation into this realm was…we learn as we go." Your father snapped his gaze towards you the moment Loki said the words. "She said you taught her that."

Thatcher straightened his stance and faced the god once more. "Do you love my daughter?"

He didn't hesitate to give his answer. "More than anything."

A lump formed in Loki's throat as your father reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring box that seemed generations old, set in a black leather and gold detailing. "The second I saw those pictures of the two of you, I recognized that look in your eyes. It's the same one I saw in Nate when he looked at Stella. When you're ready, and more importantly when she's ready, all I want is to be able to walk my baby down the aisle. But until then, keep this somewhere safe."

With a wave of his hand, Loki made the box disappear in a flash of green, keeping it in the safest place he could. "I'm sure she would love to have you walk her--"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Audrey??" The sound of your voice going shrill had him ready to march over to you. "So not only did you have the fucking audacity to invite yourself to this, bring your air-headed sisters along with you, and disrespect me and my boyfriend within sixty seconds of getting out the fucking car, but now you think you're in a position to pass your judgment and tell everyone how you think I 'picked the wrong Asgardian'."

A chill spread throughout Loki's body at your words. Despite the knowledge that yes, Thor was in fact the one that practically pushed you two to finally admit to your feelings towards one another, there would always be a deep-seated fear in him that you would wake up one day and choose differently. As so many before did in their youth.

"I'm just saying, little horsey, that if I was given the choice between two brothers, I would have picked the one that could make me a queen of a whole planet. Not the alien equivalent of an ex-con," your mother sneered at you, making his skin bristle at the sight of your rage visibly beginning to build. "Then again I shouldn't be surprised. You always did make it so difficult for us to tell any of our friends about you. Turning your back on the family business, specializing in a field that could do nothing for the image of my family, and now we can't even tell anyone you're dating a prince because all they're gonna see is the guy on YouTube back in Stuttgart that told everyone to--"

"Audrey, you finish that sentence I'm gonna make you fucking kneel," you seethed, shoulders squaring as you took a step toward them. "You haven't had a single good thing to say about me since I got first runner up in that stupid pageant you dragged me into when I was three. I turned my back on the family business because I refused to participate in a cycle of helping raise a new generation of girls that would turn out to be as brainless and shallow as you lot. I specialized in technological advancements in sustainable energy so I could actually do some good in the world and it got me an internship in Stark Industries that led to my training at SHIELD that led me into the Avengers program.

"And I don't give a single flying fuck if you can't brag to your friends at the country club about who I share a home with! Tell them whatever the fuck you want, but the long and short of it is this: I am dating a god. And a King." You lowered your voice as a smirk tugged at the side of your mouth, picking up a book that had been placed on top of the counter and waving it in their direction. "And these big boy blue-skinned ice aliens you're thirsting over in your horny wine moms book club?" You tossed the book back on the countertop with a resounding smack. "I'm dating that, too."

Your sister's jaw dropped to the ground as her gaze flickered between the scene in front of her and towards the front door where Loki still stood watching along with your father. "You go, sis," he heard her mutter before she cleared her throat. "If it helps, she's unimpressed with Nate being a neurosurgeon, too."

Somehow that sentiment caused you to chuckle, your stance a touch more relaxed now. "You know for such unimpressive women, you seem to have impossible standards for what you think is impressive to you. And the funniest thing is that somehow you all got it into your heads that the blonde himbo I call one of my best friends, that got banished to Earth for trying to destroy an entire realm because he was always a little too excited to wage war 'in his youth'…The same blonde himbo that had to grab and shake my shoulders to knock some sense into me because apparently my not so subtle crush on his brother was reciprocated and we were being idiots friendzoning ourselves? That Thor? Somehow you think you know better than I do and that he's somehow the better option? Fucking. Laughable.

"When I choose who I give my heart to, Audrey, that's it. I don't do the stupid thing and look around and see if there's greener pastures somewhere because I was raised better than that. By someone with more character in his pinky toenail than you have in your entire body, you bumbling idiot. Fact is there is no better option and there will never be a better option. Not for me. Thor doesn't even begin to compete. He's just the matchmaker. And if you can't even suck up your ego for five seconds and show me a modicum of respect then I don't need to tolerate your pretentious ass for one more minute."

As you walked out of the kitchen, marching your way back to him, Loki could see a fierce protectiveness in your eyes that he only ever saw out in the field. He'd come to terms that he would never see you donning that look over himself because out there he was better equipped and more than willing to be the one protecting you. He had to admit, however, that seeing it now had his heart doing somersaults in his chest.

I'm going to marry this woman, he thought to himself, a smile stretching across his face once you'd reached him and stepped into his outstretched arm, your own hand sliding across his lower back as you both settled into a familiar embrace.

"Sorry to rain down on this whole thing, Dad. I know you tried." You and your father gave each other mirroring shrugs. "Maybe you could--go to New York next time? Bring Stella with you? Y'know…just because I never wanna see those sad sacks of silicone and bleach ever again doesn't mean I wanna live the rest of my life without you two."

"I'll reach out next time I find myself in your neck of the woods, little bunny. Might be sooner than you think."

Your hold on him tightened the slightest bit as if to draw his attention back to you. It was adorable that you thought it ever left. "Let's go home." The way your tone audibly softened as soon as you turned to face him had the god unable to hold back from pressing a kiss to the top of your head before turning toward the door.

"Home?" a new voice perked up, making you both turn and face the dark-blond haired man who stepped in next to your sister. "I take it Audrey fucked up that fast, huh?" He set the grocery bags in his hands down, wiping his hands on his trouser legs before extending one towards you. "I'm Nate."

"The neurosurgeon, right?" you answered, taking his hand in what Loki knew was a handshake a touch firmer than necessary. "You know I work with someone who used to be a neurosurgeon, too. And…" The god stifled a chuckle as your grip tightened and tilted his hand to a point of discomfort. "If you ever even think about hurting my little sister, I will make what Stephen Strange went through look like a walk in the fucking park."

"Wouldn't dream of it," the Midgardian healer squeaked, letting out a breath of relief when you relinquished your hold on his hand. "Sorry you have to leave so early. Would've loved the opportunity to get to know the woman Stella can never seem to stop talking about. She's an entire fangirl whenever she sees you on the news."

"Shut up I am not!" Your sister faced you with a slightly sheepish look not too dissimilar from a look he occasionally saw from you. "Okay maybe I am a little bit. I mean I can't help it! My sister's a superhero!"

The sentiment had you nearly mirroring her jovial tone as you stepped out of his hold to pull her into an embrace. "I love you, too, sis. Come see me if you're ever in New York, okay?" When you pulled away from one another, you held her shoulders as you imparted one final piece of advice to both her and her intended. "You don't have to tolerate her behavior. Neither of you do. Today or--any other day of your lives."

It was just before dark when you and Loki got back to the Avengers Compound, already bracing yourself for what Tony was about to say once you stepped through the threshold. You knew you fucked up any chance of a new stakeholder for the Avengers the second you walked out of that house hand in hand with Loki, but you couldn't bring yourself to tolerate Audrey and her vapid posse a second longer.

Nobody got to pass judgment on you and your choices like that, especially when the choice they were so dismissively passing their judgment on was the love of your life. You should have broken their hands the second they started talking about how they thought you fumbled so badly for not choosing Thor.

"Thanks for not leaving Happy in hoity toity upper middle class Suburbia, you two," Stark hollered seconds after you stepped through the compound's main entrance.

"Tony I'm sorry--"

"For what?" he cut you off. "While you two were on the road your dad called me, said he wanted to invest in the Avengers Program, even offered his consulting company to be in our roster of resources. On one condition."

"And that would be?"

"Regular visits. At least once a quarter, he said. With you as the official liaison. Said he doesn't wanna miss any more of your life if he can help it."

A grin threatened to split your face, your heart warming at the knowledge that when your father said 'might be sooner than you think', he truly meant it. You no longer had to "all or nothing" your embargo on your family. "I think that can be arranged."

A/N: If you got that book reference, let's be best friends. And that name drop.

I'm so glad to knock another request off the 500-follower list! And this was honestly so much fun to write because I got to create a larger family dynamic that wasn't all bad for Reader but also showed that a few bad elements can really just throw off the whole vibe that that in itself is a good enough reason to walk away. (aka fuck u Audrey)

And also writing scenes where Reader tells Audrey off will never not be cathartic for me 😂🫡

Thank you so much for sending the request in, Camille! I hope you love the story as much as I loved creating it 💖💛

'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina

Loki taglist: @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @i-stand-with-loki @nixymarvelkins @infinitystoner @lokisgoodgirl @purplegrrl27 @thedistractedagglomeration

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki imagine #loki fanfic #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

350 notes · View notes

miraculouslbcnreactions · 15 days

Note

One last question for tonight: do you think the show should address a mature topic at all if the age rating prevents them from treating it with the gravity it deserves, or do you think that might be counterproductive?

My answer would change heavily based on the topic as there are a lot of very serious things that can be addressed in family-based media. Bluey has an episode about infertility. Avatar discusses war and genocide. Rugrats has an episode about losing a parent. Kids deal with all kinds of shit, so it's not wrong to find ways to address those things in the media that they consume.

Even if the kid in question is living a perfect childhood, it's still good to expose them to complex topics to make them a better person. Studies have found that exposing you to other points of view and cultures helps develop empathy, which is not surprising in the slightest. It's also why it's so important to expose kids to good media when you can. Reading books is especially important for understanding others.

With all that being said, if you are writing a story for young children and want to include a serious topic, but you cannot find a way actually discuss the topic while making the story work or keeping the story child-friendly, then you should not address that topic in your work.

For example, Miraculous has handled the topic of absentee parents in an utterly embarrassing manner. Jagged Stone and Audrey Bourgeois are written like they're just part of the family now without any discussion of what their absence did to their kids even though Jagged's kids didn't even know he was their dad and Audrey is implied to have been gone/rarely around for years. I actually retcon the Jagged thing so that Juleka and Luka always knew about their dad and even have a relationship with him, but it's mostly through phone calls since he's on the road a lot. I do this for two reasons:

This show has way too much drama and I needed to cut it down somewhere!

The way Jagged, Luka, and Juleka are written fits my setup way better than canon's setup. If I acknowledge their canon backstory, I'd have to completely change their dynamic because I have literally never seen a parent reunification go this smoothly.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #Luka deserves better #Jagged stone deserves better #Juleka deserves better

32 notes · View notes

cattonicdragon · 1 year

Note

Love your stuff man, can I get audrey bendy susie allison and carly(the ghost girl) x a reader that is a living shadow like dr facilier's shadow and can manipulate people through there shadows, Again love your stuff.

Audrey,bendy,susie,allison and carly x shadow reader that can manipulate living matter

Of course u can!

Has been proofread!

Audrey

Considering the fact that shes been bothered by all sorts of things since shes entered this inky hell,I think it's safe to say she would be somewhat surprised apon initially finding you

That's until she finds out that you can interact with people through their shadows

Shes honestly terrified once she finds you practically playing ping pong with some stray searchers

The ink around the place dosnt help,it becomes harder to locate you when your against a almost pitch black surface

Once befriended you though all the things that were a issue before became an uperhand

If shes ever in trouble,should a searcher get to close you can pull it back and just hold it there

She finds it funny when you hold one back and it has no idea what tf is going on

After friending you she finds your powers cool and not as terrifying

You can create little puppet shows for her and manipulate shadows to dance and do stuff

Audrey finds you a massive help when navigating through the place

When she manages to escape you bet shes taking you with her

Once in the real world you can have alot more freedom and it's easier to find you now that the hallways have colour.

Bendy

He knows of all the weird creatures that live in the studio,its his realm

Yet he hadnt seen you before

A shadow,that can manipulate living matter by using their shadows?

How interesting

Would probally take a similar approach with you like he did with audrey

If your even made out of ink

He likes to watch when you mess around with people's shadows,tripping up searchers and fucking around with the lost souls

If you ever manage to trip up Wilson you'll definatly get on bendys "do not kill yet"list

He dosnt know how you can even exist because your literally a shadow,do you perhaps have a seperate body somewhere in the studio?perhaps only your shadow appears

He trys to find a logical explanation but cant so he kinda just goes "well if you dont help Wilson or audrey then u stay away"

He dosnt care about you if your not a threat,hes annoyed he cant talk telepathicly or controll u though

Once he bonds with you though you can be a pretty nasty duo

If anybody tries to run away I dont think theyll get very far,

The studio is abit slippery today,or maybe it's the fact that you tripped them over

Well either way they fell head over heels,just like bendy did for you

Anyways,intruders dont get far as you drag them to wherever the ink demon is to take care of them

If you play with his shadow he will get annoyed so dont do that

Susie/malice

Shes been around the studio for God knows how long,so of course she knows about the things the ink creates

However she had never seen a being quiet like you

Shes not bothered by you until you pull on her arm and mess with her,she thinks it's a lurcher trying to annoy her at first until she comes to the realization that shes alone

After that she dosnt like to see you

She thinks that your always gonna pull on her hair or something and since your a shadow she cant do anything,so she just leaves,not being bothered to deal with you when more important matters are at hand

She eventually talk to you when your both in the same room,although the conversation starts out rough,she dosnt like being messed with,especially when she cant do anything to stop it

After eventually getting over her grudge she speaks to you...passively?

Relatively passivly

Eventually a friendship starts to bloom though

Theres a very high chance you could bond over a common hatred for the ink demon

Definatly asks if you can fuck around with audrey and Wilson

You can both be quite scary when in the same room,especially if one of them has something against you

Allison

Shes a survivor,she knows the things that lurk in the shadows of the ink but shes also not afraid to stand her ground against them

Once coming across you,allison will immidatly deem you as a threat,nothing is as it seems in the studio

When she finds out that you can move people through their shadows etc,shes not surprised,like mentioned previously,the things in this realm are made to deceive you

If you become troublesome for her and Tom then she will light candles everywhere or choose lit up areas,only venturing into dim ones when shes sure your not lurking around a corner

Once she somewhat friends you,you can be a massive help,she found out that you can also interact with stuff like bacon soup,so sometimes you go out getting supplies so they dont get injured by the ink demon or anything

Tom warms up to you surprisingly quick(its because you spoil him)

She does eventually admit that maybe she judged you to hard to being with

Carley

Considering the fact that shes a ghost aswell she'd be very intrigued by a shadow like you

Shes probally the only one on this list who isnt surprised that you can interact with peoples shadows,shes just not that surprised anymore

That's not to say she isnt impressed

She cant really "interact" with the living

Although she can scare people,moving things etc isnt really her forte

You two get along amazingly almost immediately

Its probally due to the fact that you both dont have a physicall body

The two of you could probally cause most people a heart attack

Both of you are very annoying towards audrey

And no audrey will get no breaks from your antics

You both mess around with the butcher gang alot alswell,one time accidentally causing a fight to break out amongst themselves

Wilson gets alot of problems from the both of you

If the old man needs to sleep hes not getting any,at all

#cattonic writes #audrey batdr #audrey x reader #bendy x reader #bendy and the ink machine #batim bendy #batim #batdr #batim x reader #batdr x reader #alice angel x reader #malice x reader #susie campbell x reader #allison angel #allison angel x reader #carley #carley batdr #carley batdr x reader #carley x reader

210 notes · View notes

dumbslxtclub · 11 months

Text

you're on your own, kid | e.m - part twelve

eddie munson x singlemom!reader

summary: set after the events of season four, Steve has disappeared and is presumed dead in the upside down. broken and now left to deal with your pregnancy alone, Eddie takes it upon himself to support you to the best of his abilities in Steve’s absence.

chapter summary: as your relationship with eddie blossoms, the weight of truth reaches it's breaking point.

content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, adult themes, unplanned pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort, some canon divergence/au, mentions of death, reader is 20, anxiety, heavy angst, fluff, no use of y/n, slow burn, brief mention of vomiting

word count: 10.8k+

a/n: some of this was inspired was inspired by the poem ‘i wish i were two dogs then i could play with me’ by anne carson. I apologise for the long absence, life has been crazy but I’m very proud of this chapter and I hope you enjoy! sorry in advance for the angst it’s about to get real. as always, shoutout to @dickfics69 for helping me xx

taglist: @lezzy-bennet @harrypotteranna23-blog @reidstea @sashaphantomhive @bexreadstoomuch @audhd-dragonaut @littlepotatobeansworld @ches-86 @tlclick73 @fckyeahlames @gnocchey @astrolockley @sidthedollface2 @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord @eddiesbabe95 @taintedcigs @harry-bowie-mercury @micheledawn1975

↳ one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

Part Twelve: Lovely To Sit Between Comfort and Chaos

Who knew scanning video tape barcodes could be so fun? An inherently arduous task made tolerable thanks to the warming weather, every monotonous motion laced with sun-soaked dopamine. The stale interior of Family Video is washed in a stream of sunlight, the clear sky leaving no interruption for the desired warmth.

The chill of winter has all but dissolved, the new season budding in blossoms dancing in lush trees and children without jackets in the park. But, beneath the surface, something more has begun mingling in your blood. Your veins are laced with the giddy joy of a new beginning, something fresh and exciting. Like the first pages of a good book, popping open a fresh bottle of wine. As with all beginnings, they have their own tonality, an addictive vibrancy that makes them so elusively special. Ebbing with firsts, ‘what ifs’ and unadulterated hope. Leaving you behind the store counter with a schoolgirl grin, completing the most mundane of tasks with enthusiasm. With every video returned into the system, another mountain forms as Robin returns to the front desk. She picks up the two latest additions from the pile, examining them with scrutiny.

“Woof. 9 ½ Weeks AND Body Heat? Someone had a big weekend.” She places them onto the steel rolling shelves, beginning to categorize the sections. Monotonous doesn’t even begin to describe the store’s activities, Robin falling especially victim to their dullness today. “Speaking of, did you get up to anything interesting?”

“Well, Audrey’s learnt how to chuck her bottles across the room. So I guess you could say things were pretty wild around my neck of the woods.”

“Guess I’ll cancel her pee-wee baseball lessons then.” She quips back, busying herself with the tapes.

It’s a funny thing, dishonesty. How it sits on the roof of your stomach, digging its heels into your gut whenever it sees fit. You’ve elected not to tell Robin about your date with Eddie, nor your second kiss, for a myriad of reasons. As your closest friend, you understand that she is just looking out for you, protecting your vulnerable heartspace. With your connection to Eddie growing, complication is bound to follow. And in such a budding stage, it just doesn’t make sense to make a mountain out of a molehill.

When you’d first approached her about your potential date with Andy, she’d responded in a similar manner, driven by protectiveness. But you knew, she could see an innate craving for something more than she could provide. It was only natural. Your new identity was tied to being a mother, full stop. It had been a long time since you felt wanted, attractive, desired. A longing to be wined and dined, treated like so much more than milk-providing breasts on legs. And she wanted you to get back out there, into the real world and away from your comfortable nest of motherhood. You are strong, Robin is well aware of this, fighting the urge to protect you and Audrey from the big bad world. Of course, hindsight is a funny thing, and she should have ripped Andy a new one before he had the chance to do anything stupid. To assume he was capable of being a decent human being for an evening was clearly expecting too much.

But with Eddie, it’s so different. Comfortable in ways you couldn’t articulate, you felt a sense of consistent safety you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Life has just become easier with him around, day to day tasks much more enjoyable in his company. And so, you’ve resolved to just dip your toes into the idea of it evolving into something more. It’s not so much lying as it is withholding the truth.

With the final tape scanned in, you toss it onto the shelf, nearly bowling over Robin’s efforts in the process. She shoots you a warning glare before sighing, glancing melancholically at the clock.

“Ah, all that stands between me and a turkey sandwich is…” She picks up a video at random and glances down at it. “... Xanadu?! Oh my god-”

She drives the cart around the corner, cussing out the poor customer's choice in film. Smiling at her antics, you busy yourself tidying the cluttered desk. Taped to the monitor is a curated collection of film pictures Robin had Jonathan develop. The ultrasound photo still sits in prime position, with a copy of the hospital image below it. Another picture is tacked to the corner of the screen showing you and Robin cuddled up in bed with Audrey sandwiched between you, all in accidentally coordinating shades of blue. You remember that night, Eddie had dropped by after work and lost it laughing at the three of you perched in bed like the grandparents in Willy Wonka, quickly racing to the kitchen to retrieve Jonathan’s camera. Moments immortalized in stillness, energetic happiness radiating out of them.

So lost in the memory, you barely register the sound of the bell above the front door ringing.

“Late return charges got you grinning like that, sweetheart?” Averting your gaze, you watch as your babysitter of choice enters the store. Eddie shoots you a warm smile, one hand gently supporting the black carrier strapped to his chest. Audrey, pacifier in mouth, faces outwards with limbs dangling aimlessly in the confines of the holder. It’s hard to miss the small purple bow clipped to the crown of her head, something that was not part of her ensemble when you dressed her this morning. Like maneuvering his own personal puppet, Eddie picks up her limp wrist to wave it in your direction. The docile baby glances up at the metalhead with curiosity, seeking out the phantom manipulating her arm.

“I can’t rent you R-rated films with a minor present, I’m afraid.” You quip with a smile, pressing your palms into the counter.

“Shit.” Eddie points to the door, backtracking a step and glancing down at Audrey. “Let me just go and tie her up out front real quick, alright?”

“Please don’t tie my daughter up on the street like a dog.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about her.” Eddie grins. “But maybe we should lock in that date before we break out the ropes and collars, hm?”

His comment immediately causes your cheeks to flush, suddenly feeling stifled in your sickly green vest. Images of compromising positions flood your mind, notably featuring the handcuffs strung up in Eddie’s bedroom. An awkward chuckle escapes your throat, Eddie’s smile faltering at the sight.

“I- I mean… fuck, oh-” His hands quickly fly to Audrey’s ears, protecting her from his cursing. “- just, pretend I never said that, okay?”

“Not a chance. You’re never living that one down, Munson.” Your melodious laughter sets Eddie free. “Where’ve you two been today?”

“Y’know, just all of her favorite places. Had to head into the shop to pick up my paycheck, the guys couldn’t get enough of her. ‘Specially Bob, or Ed, I forget- he’s been going on about her for weeks so I thought if she visited he might shut up about it.”

“Using my daughter as bait? Classy.”

“You know me all too well, sweetheart.” He’s quick to catch the pacifier as it tumbles out of Audrey’s mouth, her face screwing up in disgust while he tries to feed it back to her. “Oh, and she met a dog today. It was a beast of a thing, a Rottweiler or something. Don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited, she grabbed its ears and everything. Thought it might bite her head off. It did lick her on the face though, but I suppose that’s good for her immune system.”

“Sounds like you two have been on quite an adventure.” With Audrey now within arms reach, you lean over the counter to give her a kiss on the forehead. Her eyes light up at the sight of you, giving Eddie enough time to quickly shove the pacifier back into her mouth.

“Speaking of which… what are the chances of you getting work off this Friday afternoon?” His voice is hushed, and laced with an edge of the cheekiness you’ve come to adore. With a quick survey around the shop, you inspect to make sure Robin is out of earshot.

“I think I could pull some strings.”

“Good, good. I might have something fun planned for us.” Eddie smiles sheepishly, readjusting the weight of the carrier. “And, as much as I hate to admit it, I think Henderson might finally be ready to go solo with Squid.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, I mean- I didn’t see anyone chewing on the electrical cords so that’s an A in my books.”

“Glad to see you’ve got high standards.” You tease, the grin on Eddie’s face only growing..

“I sure do.”

Quick question, what the hell does one wear on a date? For your outing with Andy, Robin took charge of your wardrobe and crafted an outfit with complete ease. The stakes were lower, you suppose, not overly concerned with your appearance. But for today’s mystery date with Eddie, you’re finding yourself digging into the deepest crevices of your wardrobe for something that screams I’m trying, but not too hard. And, as fate would have it, nothing is jumping out at you. That shirt? Too old. These pants? Don’t fit anymore. Those socks? They’re Audrey’s, not sure how they got in here…

Huffing, you plant yourself on the floor in a nest of unacceptable garments. Your daughter sits peacefully in her bouncing recliner, gaze contently following your every move while she gums at her caterpillars antennae. Grabbing two half decent short-sleeve tops, you hold them up in the baby’s direction.

“What do you think, little miss?” Audrey continues her chomping assault, not at all interested in your predicament. You sigh, tossing the shirts into the pile of mediocrity. “God, it’s easy for you. You look cute in everything.”

Articulating your last word with a tickle, you drink in the way her mouth spreads into a toothless smile. She’s really beginning to grow into her own looks, her features forming beyond the universal blob baby look. Her hair is getting a slight wave to it, still comedically thick on her head. Pouty lips combined with her chubby cheeks give her maximum squishability factor. And as you look down at the mess of clothes covering the floor, you can’t help but cast your mind 16 years into the future. Rummaging through your daughter’s wardrobe in search of the perfect first date outfit, taking her to the mall just outside of town hunting down the dreamiest of prom dresses. It’s all racing by before your eyes. A spiral begins to form if you think about it for too long, so you quickly dedicate yourself to the task at hand.

In the end, you decide to keep it simple. A boxy button-up paired with some acid-wash mom jeans and a leather belt. Your hair is on its last legs before wash-day, so you elect to tame it with a bandana wrapped at the nape of your neck to hide the greasy mess. And Converse to complete the ensemble, because, you know, you don’t have all day. Your babysitter will be here any minute.

Dustin is smilier than usual, if that’s even possible. Grinning from ear to ear, watching you dart across the room with his hands on his hips. Making no effort to help you find your keys, but rather engaged watching your one-man Monty Python sketch.

“All ready for your big date?” The teenager articulates the last word with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. It stops you in your tracks, shooting daggers his way and doing little to wipe his smile away.

“For the last time, it’s not a date!” You lie through your teeth back to him. “I told you, we’re just going to hang out as friends. Adult friends. You know, without the presence of a baby.”

“Sure, sure. So, you got all glammed up for nothing?”

“Oh my god, I am not glammed up!” Glancing down at your outfit, you subtly worry that you may come off as trying too hard.

“I’m just saying…” Dustin throws his hands up defensively, the traces of a smile still playing on the corner of his mouth. “... you do look really nice, though.”

A humble grin makes itself known, abandoning your fruitless search to cross over to the younger boy. With figures like Steve and Eddie in his life, it’s easy to see where Dustin gets his chivalrous manners from.

“Aw, thanks, Dusty.” Flinging your arms around his shoulders, you pull him in for a tight squeeze with the explicit purpose of embarrassing him. The teenager relents quickly, giving your back a firm pat as you hold him to you in a vice grip. Giggling at the way he squirms in your arms, you take a few wobbly steps to keep him locked into place.

Burrowing your face into his mess of curls, you allow yourself to indulge in the comfort of his embrace. He’s always been a cuddly kid, and perhaps you weren’t aware of how much you needed this until now. The pair of you stand there for a beat, allowing the moment to morph from playful teasing into genuine support. Two kids, sharing a history of pain, guilt and loss. Finding solace in one another, the older enveloping the younger and soothing whatever lingering ache burns beneath their collective sorrow. He misses Steve. God, how he misses him.

It seeps through the pores of his fingertips, gently caressing your spine in small circles. As if, if you were to listen closely, beyond the dull hum of the refrigerator and the scattered bird calls outside, you could hear it. The tiniest voice, buried beneath unkempt curls, asking will it ever go away? And you both know the answer. It won’t, but you’ll learn to live with it. Together.

Biting back the swell of tears wetting your tongue, threatening to make themselves known, you refuse to crumble before him. Not today. Not on a day as happy as this.

If it’s true that Eddie has little experience with dating, he sure as hell masks it well. With a handful of daisies clutched in his fist, he’s the epitome of confidence as he raps on your door three times. Claiming the flowers were for Audrey (and definitely not for you), he quickly shuts down Dustin’s insinuations before shuttling you out the front door to his chariot. He always opens the door for you, but the small gesture makes you giddy with girlish excitement. And as soon as he joins you in the dingy interior, positive the pair of you are out of Dustin’s prying eyeline, he leans over the center console to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. The brief contact causes your heart to skip, chapped lips meeting soft skin so casually it’s disarming. A calloused thumb brushing your chin, edging your face in the direction of him, drinking in every imperfection dancing across your skin in the fading afternoon light. Noses lingering inches from one another, wrinkles forming at the edges of his eyes preceding a Cheshire-cat grin.

“Ready for our next adventure?”

With a nod, clicking the gears into drive, the van rolls out of the sun-bathed trailer park and onto the winding roads out of town. It’s easy, the silence that exists between you while you tune out to the sound of whatever metal cassette is shoved into the car’s stereo. Pulling further and further out of the small town, away from the noise. The bustle of life, the judgemental whispers. To some unknown destination, where the two of you will be free to just be.

It comes into view around half an hour into the drive, sticking out like a sore thumb against the lush forest surrounding you. A kitschy, neglected sign with what appears to be a beaver toothily smiling down at you, waving its unoiled, mechanical arm at passers-by. Silly Putter Mini Golf. Pulling into the tiny parking lot, you study the loud canary yellow clubhouse building while Eddie clambours out of the driver’s side. It’s totally cheesy, down to the pathetically flickering lightbulb on the welcome sign. And you couldn’t love it more.

Swinging the passenger side door open, your date extends his ringed hand outward.

“Ready to get your putt on?”

With utmost ease, Eddie sinks the ball on his second shot. You could be mad at his seemingly god-given talent, but it’s hard to stay upset watching his hips sway like that in those dark jeans. Even at a children’s putt-putt course, he’s shown no interest in dressing more family friendly. Under your breath, you mutter praise to the inventor of muscle tank tops, now privy to the way his sinewy muscles flex with each stroke of the golf club. Occasionally, the handle of the club would clink against his wallet chain draped out of his pocket, drawing your attention back to his narrow hips. As far as you were concerned, you were a winner tonight, regardless of the scores.

“Yes! Gotta catch up, sweetheart. I’m beating you by…” He pulls the small scorecard out of his back pocket and grins. “... five points.”

Shooting a distrusting look in his direction, you pace to meet him on the prickly astroturf.

“What?! I thought you said it was three?”

Snatching the page away, Eddie holds it tauntingly above your head. He swings it around like a kite, mocking your stature while the only other family here passes by you with milkshakes in hand.

“That was before you hit the windmill twice on the last hole. Bit embarrassing, if you ask me.” He pokes, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. “Tell you what. You make this in less than two shots, I’ll call it even. Even throw in some fries afterwards, as a sign of good showmanship.”

A competitive energy charges through your body, a daring smirk playing on your face. Through your lashes, you challenge the metalhead’s smug demeanor, flirting with the notion of friendly competition.

“Deal.”

With a newly confident stride, you make your way to the fluorescent pink tee you’d picked out for yourself, placing the equally obnoxious green ball atop it. It’s a fairly easy set up, two small hills creating a valley that would lead you straight to the hole. A mechanical crocodile snaps out of the wall sporadically, directly in line to your goal, hinges chomping at nothing. You assume the stance, needing to bend over slightly to accommodate the child-sized putter you were gripping. The crocodile seems to be popping out every five seconds, and so you brace yourself until it begins its certain retreat. Drawing your putter back, you hear it click against the ball, knowing immediately you overshot it. The ball rolls over one of the bumps in the turf, into a direct line with the crocodiles elongated snout, sending it back in your direction with a pathetic tumble.

“Shit.” You groan, attempting to tune out the smug laughter behind you. A tattooed arm comes into view over your left shoulder, pointing to the red flag sticking out of the ground.

“The holes over there, sweetheart.” Eddie quips matter-of-factly.

“Gee, thanks. What would I do without you?” Shooting daggers at your entirely too-smug date, you elbow him in the ribs before setting off in the direction of the ball. It seems your jab did little to quell Eddie’s laughter, who quickly catches up to you.

“Think you need to work on your form.”

“There’s a form needed for mini-golf?”

“Mhm, form I possess by the bucketful.” God, he’s a smug little shit sometimes.

Incredulous, you welcome his challenge with wide-open arms. “Alright then, genius. Enlighten me. Show me how it's done.”

Eyebrows disappearing into his messy bangs, Eddie’s doe eyes twinkle with boyish mischief, a prominent dimple playing deep into his cheek.

“Here.” Placing his hands on your shoulders, he maneuvers you in the direction of your goal, now partially obstructed by the protruding crocodile snout. “Line ‘er up.”

He angles himself around you, back pressed to abdomen, warmth emanating from the thin cotton of his shirt against yours. His feet shuffle to either side of yours, boxing you into his cradling hold. Snaking his bare arms along yours, starting at your elbow, each finger wrapping gently around the girth of your forearm. He lingers a moment too long, you don’t complain. Slowly working his way down to your wrists, locking his digits around the boney flesh. Breath on the nape of your neck, adrenaline pumping too fast for you to look anywhere but the lime-green golf ball at your feet.

“That’s it…” His chest rumbles against your ribcage, coaxing vibrations of praise causing your fingertips to go numb. “Nice and gentle, okay?”

One slow nod is all you manage, feeling his gaze burning into your profile. You watch as the rusting reptile makes itself known against the fake grass, gaping jaws ready to foil your next putt. As it begins its retreat, you take a deep inhale, feeling your ribs expand against the comfort of Eddie’s sternum.

“Go.” Barely a whisper is required, his lips so close to your ear you can practically feel their plush sanctuary. In tandem, Eddie gently pulls your wrists sideways before encouraging you forward with perfect momentum. Metal meets plastic with a firm thud, propelling the ball forward. It rolls, and a collective breath is held. As if the future of the world hinges on this single stroke. Picking up sand and debris along the way, the bright sphere travels across the turf towards its goal. It hits the lip of the hole before tumbling in with a clatter, sending your arms skyward in celebration as you discard the putter.

“Yes!” Gleaming with joy, you spin on your heels to press a firm finger into Eddie’s chest. “In your smug, stupid face, Muns-”

Victory is swiftly cut short as an arm wraps around your hip, grip settling in the groove of your waist. You slot perfectly into the crook of his lean body, softness meeting strength entirely channeled into closing the gap between you. The sheer momentum of it knocks a sigh loose from your chest, clinging to the anchor of his chest with bunched fists entangled in his shirt. His free hand nestles beneath your chin, a firm thumb pressing and guiding your eyeline up to his. Eddie shines with pride. Smiling from ear to ear, shaking his head at your antics with pure amusement, feeling the contagion of your joy.

Angling your chin slightly higher, Eddie presses his lips down onto yours with fervor. A blend of your two previous encounters, it’s passionate yet careful, a marriage of wanton desire and delicate care. You lean into it, drawing him closer by the cloth adorning his torso, chasing the taste of his kiss. As if to commit it to memory, to learn how it sits in your mouth and if the needy aftertaste ever dissipates. Muscles not just for decoration, but with the greater use of keeping you pressed intimately to his body. His thumb brushes against the groove of your jawline, dancing across the expanse of skin he is yet to be acquainted with. But there will be time for that later. Eddie is the one to pull away, a proud grin still plastered on his face.

“Good job, sweetheart. Ready for your prize?”

Food always tastes better when someone else is paying for it. The fries have the perfect crunch to them, the outer a golden brown against the fluffy white potato now filling your mouth rapidly. Eddie claims that they only came in a package deal with two cans of soda, but you have an inkling he may be lying about that. Your date watches as you shove the greasy food into your mouth, taking a long sip of his Coke.

“Looks like you’re enjoying your winnings over there.”

“Mmm-“ You mumble through a mouthful of starch. “Feels like there’s a birthday party in my mouth.”

Eddie’s brows furrow with amusement at your choice of words, shaking his mane of curls.

“Shit, actually, there’s something I don’t know about you. When is your birthday?”

Swallowing the thick mass of carbs, you slyly redirect your gaze to the quickly-emptying plastic basket before you, picking at a few deep-fried crumbs.

“Next week…” You pray to the heavens your admission was mumbled low enough for Eddie to catch it as some ambiguous month in the distant future. But it seems the years of heavy metal assaulting his ear drums has done little to subdue his sense of hearing.

“Next week?!” Theatrically, Eddie slams his soda down on the picnic table, likely taking off some of the tragic peeling paint in the process. He looks positively incredulous, brows raised to maximum height behind his bangs. “And you’ve been keeping this a secret, why?”

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret! I just didn’t think it was that big of a deal-“

“Not that big of a-“ Fingers splayed on the periwinkle blue wood, he braces himself forward with a deep inhale. “Sweetheart, now I’m gonna have to plan a big bash in less than a week. How could you do this to me?”

As if it’s the biggest inconvenience he’s ever encountered. Chuckling nervously, you wave your hands in a flurry before his deadpan expression.

“Oh no, absolutely not. Uh-uh, not happening.”

“But-”

“Eddie.” Your tone is firm, gaze boring into his. “I’m turning twenty, it’s not even an exciting number. Plus, I have a baby, in case you forgot. Not sure how many nightclubs would let the pair of us in. If it means that much to you, I’ll have you and some of the kids over for a movie. That’s my limit, though.”

Eddie huffs, resolving himself to defeat. “Fine. No strippers, then.”

“Oh, now that you mention strippers…” A grin takes over your face as you waggle a fry in his face, likely sending salt fragments onto Eddie’s shirt. Before you can bring it to your awaiting mouth, he swats the perfectly good fast food out of your hand, sending it catapulting to the ground for some poor, underpaid teenager to clean up later.

“Party in your mouth, huh?” He quips, stealing the larger of the two potato sticks stuck to the paper lining the basket. He pops it into his mouth with a grin, shooting you a suggestive look.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.”

The energy between the two of you is so, so easy. You sip your cool soda, indulging in the sugary carbonation clinging to your teeth. Eddie does the same, studying a terribly constructed pyramid situated on one of the holes. No pressure to speak, or not speak, just basking in the glow of one another’s company. The air is cool under the downlights, a mild spring evening setting the scene for what a true date night should look like.

“I’ve gotta ask-” You begin through a mouthful of food, somewhat unceremoniously. “- how’d you get so good at mini golf? I just wouldn’t expect you to be the kind of guy to spend his free time at a place like this.”

“Ooft, judging a book by its cover, are we?” Eddie places his drink back on the picnic table, grinning beneath the fluorescent snack bar sign.

“Oh, never. Heavy metal and putt-putt go hand in hand, as far as I’m concerned.”

Eddie shakes his head, grinning while he peers down at the condensation accumulating on the metal can.

“I, uh- I used to bring Dustin out here.”

“Dustin? Really?”

“Yep.” There’s a loaded silence between the pair of you, something that isn’t uncommon as you exchange stories of your past. “After, um- y’know, everything happened. He kind of… shut down. A bit like you did, for a while. Didn’t want to play DnD, or see anybody, really. So this one day, I just drove over to his place and dragged him out of bed saying ‘C’mon, butthead. I’m taking you outta town’. He kicked up a bit of a fuss, but I just sort of army-marched him out the front door. We drove around for a while, not really talking and stumbled on this place. He shot me that stupid grin of his for the first time in forever, so we came in. It sort of became a weekly thing after that, and I hate to admit that I actually enjoyed it after a while.”

Swirling a fry around in too much ketchup, your meal is all but forgotten as you find yourself enthralled by Eddie’s recollection. That all too familiar pang of sadness returns, regret manifesting quickly in your body. You wish you were there for Dustin. You should have been. You wish you were stronger earlier, able to provide him with the care he so desperately needed. In the past few months, you’ve watched the teenager really step up, busying himself with baby books in order to be the best ‘uncle’ he could be. He’s a close second behind Eddie when it comes to making Audrey smile, lapping up every second he gets with her. God, Steve would be so proud of him.

“He’s a good kid, even if he’s an annoying little shit sometimes. And Steve…” His thought trails off, running his finger around the edge of the soda can. “... Steve was good for him. Gave him someone to look up to, a role model sort-of. Almost like a big brother, I guess. So I didn’t mind running around a shitty mini-golf course with a creepy beaver sign if it made him happy.”

Abandoning your meal, you reach across the table to take Eddie’s hand in yours. The tips of his fingers are cold from the refrigerated beverage, and you wrap your palm around the icy skin with warm reassurance.

“You’re a good man, Eddie.”

Eddie’s lips curve into the most imperceptible smile, humble and felt almost entirely inward. For a fleeting second, he wonders if that could be true.

Eddie was meant to drive you straight home. The roads were quiet at this time of night, no traffic bar the occasional truck making its way in the opposite direction of the small town he unfortunately called home. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this full. Not literally, of course, given you guzzled down the majority of hot food before he had a chance to get to it. But it didn’t matter, not the slightest.

He felt proud.

Proud while he watched you dig through the bucket of tees, looking for the perfect Barbie pink one that wasn’t chipped or dirty. Proud of his excellent golfing form, thankful for all the practice he’d gotten through restless evenings with Henderson. Proud of the way you jumped up and down, hands raised to the heavens as you sank your shot in half the time it had taken you on every other hole. Proud of how he scooped you into his arms, like every cheesy rom-com he’d had the displeasure of watching. Proud of the part he had to play in your happiness. Proud to be seen with you.

He was meant to drive you straight home.

He had every intention of doing so.

Satiated with pride, he could resolve to spend the remainder of his evening grinning stupidly to himself in the isolation of his room. The humble home across the trailer park suddenly feels closer, anyway. Until, your hand snaked its way across the center console onto his thigh, your touch feather light but the weight heavy. For a brief moment, he wonders if you reached for something but overshot, a simple mistake. And then, you linger. Fingernails scratching the course denim clinging to his legs, shockwaves sent down his skin with every delicate stroke. Absent-minded. Loaded.

He knew the stakes had just been raised.

The two of you had been close like this dozens of times before, particularly in your pregnancy. Eddie never saw the need for one of those pregnancy pillows advertised on late-night infomercials, when you apparently saw him as the perfect substitute. Back then, those exchanges meant almost nothing. A tiny back scratch here and there, drawing small circles on your forearm while you dozed off with your entire body weight pressed to his shoulder. Thoughtless interactions, designed purely to comfort and set you at ease. The familiarity that has perhaps always existed between the pair of you, now morphing into something new.

Thumb smoothing the faded-black material, tiny rotations etched over and over.

Hypnotic.

The bravery that overtook him was phantom, ghostly desire edging his knee ever so slightly further in your direction. As if to say please, don’t stop. I’m right here. His eyes remain firmly locked onto the dark road, using only the occasional streetlight to guide his path. Besides, he doesn’t need to look at you to feel your gaze on his cheek. Not that he could bring himself to, if he tried. He wonders if he blacked out earlier. Got hit in the head with a rogue club and passed out, ascending to a heaven in which he would be fortunate enough to experience such a sensation. Heart pounding in his chest, he lets out an unsteady exhale as your fingers snake deeper into the groove, caressing at more sensitive flesh. Inward, where the skin is far more sensitive.

Eddie isn’t a greedy man.

Until he is.

“Baby…” The foreign pet name slips out as a moan, barely perceivable beneath the soft hum of the cassette’s tune filling the car at a low volume. Somehow, in those two syllables alone, he crosses a line. Bares his soul to the wolves, knowing well the potential ramifications, the bloodshed that follows vulnerability.

The digging of your fingernails into the meaty flesh at his utterance is his breaking point. The green light he sought out. With cautious fervourency, he pulls off the road quickly, wheels clattering along the asphalt excuse for a truck stop. The car is quickly clicked into park before the metalhead can cognise it, tearing the constricting seatbelt off his body. Your hand never leaves its spot.

Turning to you, wide-eyed with want, he pauses. Gives himself whiplash from the flurry of activity leading to the sudden stillness. It’s intrinsic, no need for words anymore. Redundant wastes of breath.

His lungs hitch, adrenaline pulsing in the tips of his fingers.

Can we?

Lips parted ever so slightly, a rise of your chest and dazed fluttering of eyelids answers.

Yes.

It’s not clear who lunges first. What is clear is how your bodies instinctively shape around one another, quick to absolve the space between you. Lips collide with lips, desperately seeking respite. Wanton moans are pulled effortlessly, fistfuls of hair tangled in clammy fingers drawing the two of you impossibly close. Imperfect fumblings as shirts are clutched desperately, fueling the fire burning in the pits of Eddie’s stomach. The pace is entirely unsteady, soft brushes bleeding into firm tugs of teeth piercing tender flesh with just the right amount of force. Embarrassing, unadulterated need at the forefront of every motion, and neither of you cared. God, it’s almost perverse. How Eddie corrupts something so soft, so sweet, with every fevered kiss. Like he’s tainting you with his taste, as if he could lap enough of you up and absolve his unworthiness. The likelihood of that working is slim, but god damn Eddie is willing to try.

It’s still not enough.

The plastic console separating you is driving him mad. He needs to be able to grab, clutch, caress every square inch of you with no obstructions. You make him bold.

Bold enough to slip his wandering hand beneath your far thigh, the smallest hithering motion enough to feel the weight shift above his palm. Unceremoniously, you clamber over the glove box after unclipping your seatbelt, haphazardly swinging your foot into the horn. The beep echoes through the isolated rest stop, a mumbled apology being quickly swallowed by Eddie’s lips. Blindly guided, he directs your knees to either side of his hips, showing no qualms with the limited driver’s side legroom. His hands find your hips, tentatively hovering above his lap, shaky thighs taking the brunt of your weight. With small, caressing circles of your hip bone, he soothes you as he always has. Encourages you to share the pressure, begging to be the bearer of it. No wrong answer, only whatever you’re comfortable with. Perfect the way you are.

Ringed fingers press gently into the small of your waist, drawing you closer still to his body. This seems to encourage you to relent to your tiring muscles, finding solace on Eddie’s tense thighs. A safe distance, but so close to danger. To unbridled want. Neither of you care.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as you speckle kisses along his cheek, dancing down his jawline and finding sanctuary on his neck. Nipping slightly at his pulse point, he can’t help but squeeze a bit tighter. Relishing in your exploration, mentally mumbling Hail Mary’s for his good deeds from past lives that lead him to this euphoria. A gasp escapes his throat as you latch onto a particularly sensitive spot, causing his hands to seek refuge on the meat of your hips. He squeezes, eliciting a similar wanton moan that vibrates against his stubbled skin.

“Is- is this good?” A sentence loaded with various meanings tumbles out, his grip loosening slightly.

“Mmm.” You murmur, tracing the familiar trail back along his jaw and to his aching lips. “So good. So good to me, always.”

A knot forms in the pit of Eddie’s stomach. So good. So good. For you. That’s all he’s ever wanted to be. It fucking underscores every day, trying to do right by you. Constantly trying. He lives for it. For the smiles, the exhales of safety, the reassurance, the comfort…

It’s gotten him more hooked than a drug ever could.

So why.

Why can’t he accept it?

The praise, the love, everything you dish out effortlessly. But to want and to deserve are very different things, the latter being something that Eddie factually knows he is not entitled to.

It returns, a tidal wave of despair crashing over his heart, encasing it in a riptide of emotional debris and darkness. The taunting ticking of the second hand that haunts him constantly, the grip on his happiness slipping…

“Hey.” He gasps out, ringed fingers grazing your cheek as he pulls away. So close still he can see the flushed-red outline of your lips, the blissed out expression in your eyes quickly morphing to concern.

“Shit, you okay?” You pull back, brushing a loose curl out of the frame of his face.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” A stabilizing breath does little to quell the erratic beating of his heart. “Just- maybe we should, like, take things a bit slower? I- I just don’t want all this to be too much, too fast.”

Brows furrowing slightly, it’s hard to miss the minute disappointment reflected across your face.

“Oh. No, yeah, of course.” Letting out an awkward chuckle, your unoccupied hands take to fidgeting with your now-loose blouse. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get carried away…”

“No, no-” Eddie reassures, a smile growing on his sore lips despite the gnawing ache in his chest. “Fuck, you were- it was perfect.”

A bashful grin cuts through the nerves etched into your skin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” God, you make him too bold. Cradling your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he dips forward to steal another miss from you. “Just want to do things right. Be a gentleman and all that.”

“You? A gentleman? Since when?” You poke.

“Since always.” The tone returns to easy as always, if not charged with a certain afterglow of electricity.

“So, what’s the next step in the courting ritual then?”

“Dunno. Guess I’ll have to pull off a grand gesture of some kind.”

Thursday afternoon, counting down the minutes until the clock strikes 5pm and frees you from this grind. Happy fucking birthday to you.

Robin has been fussing over you non-stop for the past 24 hours. Apparently, a little birdie told her about your upcoming birthday (something you’d diligently kept private), sending her into a frenzy. She insisted on at least taking you out for dinner to celebrate your birthday at Benny’s, and practically stuffed her version of appropriate birthday attire into a duffle bag this morning for you to change into post-shift. In all her festive glory, she returned from her lunch break with a pink-frosting covered cupcake and tried to involve no less than three customers in a group rendition of Happy Birthday that was less than successful. And despite the unwarranted theatrics, you can’t deny your gratitude. Seeing how she dotes on you, dedicating her every movement that day to your happiness. And frankly, it’s not dissimilar to every other day. The love, the care that the two of you feel for eachother simply heightened for your first day of your twenties. Luck has never been a word you’d use to describe your life, but today, it feels fitting.

Keith has been goaded into closing the shop up solo tonight, Robin sparing no detail of the utmost importance to this diner dinner. She’d also arranged for Eddie to bring Audrey along, clocking in around 12 total hours of unpaid babysitting and a bushel of brownie points. Then, once the grown-ups have hung out, some of the younger kids will bike to the trailer park for a late-night movie. Spending the remaining hours of your birthday with everyone you love.

The small bathroom cubicle adjoining the workroom is cluttered with makeup and clothes, the two of you primping yourself in privacy. Tonight’s outfit of choice appears to be a band tee, tied at the waist with a flowing maxi-skirt, clashing in your mind but makes sense to Robin, apparently. To level the playing field, she dug out some of your nicer boots for the occasion. Internally, you worry for Audrey, and how it’ll be once Robin realizes she has two life-sized Barbie dolls to dress up. But secretly, you like it. It feels very you, whatever that means now. Comfort meets expression, an identity crafted beyond Mom.

Smiling at yourself through the rusty bathroom mirror, Robin swipes on her mascara.

“How do you feel? Older and wiser yet?” Robin asks, eyes bugged out in concentration.

“More of the former, I’d say.” You chuckle.

“What about the outfit? I felt pretty proud of it, very rocker-chic meets fairy princess.”

“It’s great, Rob. All of it.” Lips pursing together in an emotional smile, you drink in the image before you. You look your age. No dark circles or fine lines present, concealed under just the right amount of makeup. Hair just the way you like it, not confined to a three-day-old ponytail. You recognise her, from another life. The girl you used to be. And she’s so happy to see you.

Robin shoves the mascara tube into her tote bag, throwing it over her shoulder. “Ready to hit the road?”

With a nod, you hold the door open for her, the imposing fluorescents of the video store coming back into view.

“Oh, nearly forgot. We’ve gotta make a pit stop along the way, if that’s alright with you?” Following her trail, the two of you burst out the front doors and into the brisk evening towards your Pinto.

“Sure.” You reply. “Just lead the way.”

“Robin, where the hell are we?” Glancing around one of the seedier streets of Hawkins, you shrug your handbag a little closer under your armpit and remind yourself that you did, in fact, lock your car. It’s fairly innocuous, an assortment of goods shops and a vintage record store, but you’ve never ventured this far into the heartland. Robin is a few paces before you, studying the signs of various closed businesses along the road. Her face lights up as you approach one particular building.

“Bada-boom.” She announces with a proud grin, stopping in front of a large, black building. The paint is sun-faded, lined with scratched-off band posters graffitied with lewd scribbles. Against the dark sky, your only indication of the name etched into the doorway awning comes in the form of a passing car blaring its lights.

“The Hideout?” It rang a bell, yet you could not work out for the life of you what the two of you were doing here. “Dude, is this a nightclub? It’s a Thursday!”

“Not exactly…” Her brazen smile makes you slightly nervous. “More of a live music venue. I’ve just gotta pick something up from here, then we’ll be off to dinner. ‘Kay?”

“Alright, maybe I’ll just wait outside-” “No!” Robin quickly clears her throat. “I mean- I’m not leaving you out here on these mean street all alone without me to protect you.”

Shooting you a bright smile, you have to take at face value that she’s being entirely serious right now. Locking her arm through yours, she urges your unwilling feet further to the entrance.

“Is it even-” Answering your half-finished question, Robin pushes open the door to the venue, the interior pitch-black. “Are we even allowed to be here?”

“Yes, dingus! Just c’mon…” Once again, you’re placing literal blind faith into your closest friend. She might as well have tied Eddie’s bandana over your eyes as she did at Christmas, nothing but the slightly sticky floor beneath you to guide you forwards into oblivion. Her arm is your liferaft, swimming through pitch-black waters towards god knows what. In the distance, you hear a strange scuffling of feet, not belonging to either you or your co-worker. It sends chills down your spine, suddenly feeling very out of your depth. It’s disorienting, and totally alien.

“Seriously, Robin. Can we-” Your hushed tone is directed to the girl beside you, who stops in her tracks. You plant yourself beside her, the strangest feeling of being able to make a figure out through the void before you. A fleeting moment of movement, another shuffle of shoes on tacky wood ground.

And in the flash of an eye, brightness burns your retinas, momentarily blinding you. It forces you to squint, a desperate attempt to identify these unfamiliar surroundings. A spotlight of sorts bears down on you before Robin quickly releases you from her vice grip and jumps to the side. But as one sense is returned, another is quickly abused, a raucous sound brutalizing your eardrums.

“Surprise!” Numerous voices call out at the top of their voices, unable to be individually dissected amongst the barrage of confetti poppers bursting into the sky. As your eyes grow accustomed to the warm spotlights around the venue, you make out familiar shapes. A mess of scruffy curls buried beneath a baseball cap. Two young boys with arms slung around one another jumping up and down, perfectly manicured bangs flinging haphazardly. The flash of a camera you’d borrowed months ago. There’s only a few of them, but their energy fills the space tenfold.

And, at the center, you see a lean figure with a Kirk Hamlett haircut raise a squirming lump high above his head, not unlike a certain Disney movie that wouldn’t come out for another good eight or so years. Eddie, in what can only be described as his best cut-off band tee, proudly holds Audrey high above the group, her chunky legs bunched up to her body as she looks around entirely confused. As the last syllable of their celebration dies off, as if on cue, Audrey’s face screws up in a dramatic pout, a loud cry echoing through the venue at a volume the others only could hope to have achieved. Eddie’s face quickly transforms to worry, eyes squinting with embarrassment.

“Oh, fu-” Eddie quickly lowers her, cradling her head towards his collarbone. “Shit, didn’t mean to scare you, Squid.”

Shushing her and pacing a step towards you, he bounces your baby from side to side. Her cries begin to lull, her fist tucked tightly at his clavicle for emotional support. Likely giving his neck a few scratches from her razor-sharp fingernails, she clings to the neckline of his shirt like a spider monkey, pulling it down with a subdued whimper and revealing one of his tattoos.

“Eddie? What-” You’re stunned. Shell-shocked from the sudden onslaught of sensation and attention, closing the space between you and the metalhead.

“How’s this for a grand gesture?” Spinning on his heel, Dustin rushes over to present a frosting-covered monstrosity on the bar. The icing is baby pink, with large globs that could be letters on top, with a handful of mismatched candles shoved into the floury concoction.

“Ta-da!” The younger boy grins, fixing one of the especially lop-sided candles. “Sorry it’s nothing special, I didn’t have much time to work on it…”

“You- you threw me a birthday party?” You ask, wide-eyed to Eddie.

“Ah-” He raises a finger, readjusting the subdued baby in his arms. “A surprise birthday party. In case you missed the keyword over the little hellraiser's scene-stealing cry.”

That familiar feeling returns. Overwhelmed by love and eyes solely on you. A small pile of presents sits on one of the bar tables, along with a few cards. Far more modest than the endowment you received from the group months earlier. Smiling faces, slightly tentative as they attempt to interpret your expression. But that thumping in your chest is not from anxiety this time. It’s from an overflowing sense of gratitude.

A teary smile takes over your face, rushing to embrace Eddie and Audrey in a tight bear hug. The baby nestled between you burbles and squirms, and you raise your lips to the shell of Eddie’s ear to whisper a heartfelt “thank-you”.

The party is in full swing. Of the faces huddled in groups around the intimate venue, you initially only recognise half of them. Mike, Lucas and Will order root beer from the bar under Eddie’s strict supervision, not wanting any wasted minors on his track record. Dustin and Erica are engaged in a heated conversation with a few older boys, each of them wearing shirts printed with the name Corroded Coffin. You’d only crossed paths with them a handful of times at campaign nights, but they shared Eddie’s welcoming nature, trying to involve you in their conversation about elves or something. Nancy and Robin were trying to liven up the dance floor, which mostly involved Nancy swaying to the beat and Robin putting on a full-scale musical number around her. With Audrey not in the arms of any of her allocated babysitter’s arms, there was only one place left to search. Jonathan was taking a picture of the group in the adjacent booth, El and Max grinning either side of an unfamiliar face. His long, dark hair proved most entertaining for the infant on his lap, a glazed-over expression dancing in his red-rimmed eyes.

“Woah, woah! That’s not for playing with, little dudette. Try this instead, I know it keeps me entertained.” From his Hawaiian shirt pocket, he pulls out a small set of keys, passing them to Audrey’s greedy fingers. She squeals, flinging the keys up and down in delight.

“God, she’s so cute.” El gushes, smoothing her pint-sized overalls over her legs.

“I know, right. She looks so much like Steve, it’s insane.” Max affirms. “Alright, Argyle. Quit hogging her.”

The redhead scoops her hands around Audrey’s waist, bringing her up to eye level with a cooing expression.

“You know they’re born without kneecaps? How gnarly is that?” Argyle states, turning to El with complete sincerity.

“No way that’s true.” Max shoots the older boy a signature dead-pan look, readjusting Audrey in her arms, who is now getting a good amount of drool on the keychain.

“Swear on my life! I read it somewhere, they’re born without propellers.”

“You mean patellas?” El corrects.

“Yeah, that’s the one! Or maybe it’s dogs I’m thinking of…”

It’s beautiful, watching over your own party as a voyeur. An event that has brought together all of the closest people in your life, the common thread being you. It makes you sick with love.

“How’re you enjoying the event, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice reaches you before he does, a glass of tan-colored liquid in hand.

“It’s perfect, really.” You reply with a grin. “All that’s missing are the Jell-o shots.”

“Gonna treat us to another Flashdance number?” Cheeks flushing over his statement, you stammer a response.

“How- how did you…”

“Don’t think I’d forget a spectacle like that.” He winks, a devilish grin spread across his lips. “Livened up that night’s dealings, that’s for sure.”

It’s strange, remembering a time before this. A time when Eddie was just a face in the crowd, Steve the undisputed King of Hawkins, and you with no clue what the coming years held in store. It feels like a lifetime ago, and simultaneously feels like an eternity you’ve spent with this eclectic family by your side.

“Getting on the beers tonight, Munson?” You tap a nail against the edge of his glass teasingly.

“Nah, confiscated Henderson’s root beer for my own selfish purposes.”

“You’re not gonna have a celebratory drink with me tonight?” Eddie shakes his head.

“Don’t think so, sweetheart. Sounds a bit cliche, but I feel weird drinking around Squid. Just don’t want to be the kind of guy who does that around a baby, makes me feel like my dad or something.”

You swear your heart swells to three times its normal size. He might be the most considerate man you’ve ever met.

“Besides…” Eddie continues, pointing to the Hellfire boys. “... don’t want to be a mess on stage for the grand finale of the night.”

You gasp, mock excitement written all over your expression. “Strippers?!”

Eddie shakes his head with a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Maybe later, if you ask nicely.”

He did it.

Eddie pulled it off. From the house-shaking rendition of Happy Birthday, to the (in his humble opinion) absolutely killer set courtesy of Corroded Coffin, to shuttling the younger kids home before the bar opened to the public. He fucking did it. He did good.

The dingy bar is now filled with the usual patrons, the bouncers not bothering to check the ID’s of the occupants inside who could pass for being over 21. Last he saw you, you were dancing arm in arm with Robin and Nancy, screaming Everybody Wants to Rule The World at the top of your lungs. He’d never seen you so free, so vibrant. Moving like no one was watching, twirling and laughing and holding your friends. Just as you deserved to be. A twenty-year-old for one night, before another 364 days devoted to being a mom.

The cool breeze is welcoming, soothing his warm skin under the clear night sky. Stars swimming in the endless expanse of night, delicate kisses of light kissing the pitch-black veil. He can breathe. It used to be suffocating, looking up at the infinite nothing. It would clog Eddie’s throat, choking him in bleak nothingness. Wrap him in a coat of terror, a black mirror designed to play back every fateful mistake of his miserable life. Now, it welcomes him. And he isn’t afraid to embrace it. Baby steps, learning to love the dark parts of his being.

In his arms, he rocks Squid back and forth gently. She’s long since dozed off, the burden of being the life of the party clearly hung too heavy on her tiny shoulders. On her ears sit the smallest fluffy earmuffs, an investment courtesy of Dustin just for tonight. She was the best little groupie he could have asked for. At one point, Robin brought her onstage and placed her feet on the ground, bopping her up and down to the music. The crowd roared, and she giggled and squealed like she was the headliner act. Might have shown the band up, honestly. Eddie didn’t mind.

He’s getting better at stealing moments with her. Giving into his need to dote on her unabashedly. He could stare at her for a lifetime, and that wouldn’t be enough. He needs to imprint in his mind the way her eyelids flutter when she sleeps, commit to memory the O-shape of her mouth when she lets out a sleepy yawn. He wants to record her laugh, keep it forever. He wants every waking second to be dedicated to her.

“Have a good night, Squid?” He mumbles, lightly stroking the bridge of her nose. “Not bad for your first party, eh? Just you wait until your birthday. All of this will look like child’s play.”

Squid wriggles restlessly, burrowing into Eddie’s chest. Against his sternum, he can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath, the tiny grunts of sleep deep in her lungs. It makes him grin like a mad-man.

“Y’know, I’m gonna let you in on a secret.” He readjusts her carefully in his arms, hushing his tone slightly. “I think- I think you and your mom are the best things that have ever happened to me.”

His words hang heavy in the still air, the empty alleyway the only recipient to his confession.

“Can you believe I was scared of you? Of these tiny hands-” He tickles her palm with his pointer finger, the baby clasping around it instinctually with unbridled strength. “- and these little feet. God, I’m pretty stupid, aren’t I? You can tell me, I won’t be offended. But, I’ll tell you something, just between you and me. There are much scarier things out there. And I’m not talking about monsters or alternate dimensions, although I do promise to protect you from that, cross my heart.” He raises his free hand to his heart, as if the sleeping infant would know any different.

“In this big, bad world, I think the scariest thing is to be alone. And I’m gonna make sure you never feel that way, if I can help it.”

Eddie is rambling, word vomit spilling past his lips faster than he can contain it. No scapegoat of weed or alcohol to blame his honesty on. He gently rocks Squid back and forth, the motion soothing both of them.

“Y’know, I know you’re not mine. But-” Teeth bite down on the inside of his cheek, fingers pulling down her overalls. “- I dunno, it kinda feels like you’re mine in my heart.”

With a deep exhale, Eddie allows his honesty to wash over him in all its brutal glory. Knee-buckingly raw, and he leans into it, for once. Allows the love to pump through his veins with every beat of his cynical heart, waking up parts of him he thought were gone for good. But the moment of solitude doesn’t last long before Robin comes barreling out of the back door, almost crashing into the nearby trash cans.

“Shit, sorry. Did I wake her?” She apologizes, sloshing her half-finished gin and tonic onto the pavement.

“Nah, you’re in luck. Squid’s out like a light.” He pulls out another milk crate, beckoning the tipsy liability over. “Having fun in there?”

“Yeah, yeah- I am.” It’s a half thought, words dancing on the tip of her tongue not ready to be spoken yet. “The kids get home alright?”

“Eventually, had to drag most of them out by the end. Henderson wanted to hide in the bathroom and then ‘blend in with the older crowd’.”

“Wonder where he learnt that one from.” Robin smiles, nudging the metalhead.

“Hey, don’t look at me. Wasn’t my doing, for once…”

“Mmm…” She replies, taking a swig of her mixed spirit. Staring down at the lime slice, she swishes the glass around as if deep in thought. Glazed eyes laced with melancholy, radiating off her being.

“Something on your mind?” Eddie asks, angling his body more in her direction.

Robin’s mouth screws up as if she’s tasted something bitter, unable to bring her gaze to meet the man before her. But he doesn’t need to look her in the eyes to see the tears swelling on her waterline, quivering with her next sentence.

“We have to tell her…” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, suppressed anxiety trickling in with every syllable.

Eddie feels his blood run cold, the familiar pang of dread hanging low in his stomach. He shakes his head defiantly.

“Not tonight, Rob. Please…” The plea is firm, fraying at the edges. Not ready to face the inevitable.

“No, no. Not tonight, but it needs to be soon.”

“Can we please not do this right now?” Eddie doesn’t mean to be so forceful with his words, but fear is a powerful thing. It poisons his blood, pushed further through his system with every erratic beat of his heart.

Robin’s eyes continue to well up with stinging tears, her grip on the glass tightening. “The guilt is eating me alive, Eddie. I just… I don’t know how to do it.”

Eddie sighs, desperate to keep what little control he possesses.

“We need to do it the right way, got it? You, me, Henderson and her. We can all sit down and…” Robin runs her hand through her hair with exasperation at Eddie’s suggestion. Even the gentlest of options sounds like a monumental task. “Just give it a bit more time…”

“There is no more time!” She retorts, her volume loud enough for her to quickly glance down at the sleeping baby to make sure she didn’t wake her.

Eddie stands up, readjusting Squid in his arms. He’s doing his best to stay calm, and not let the inevitable spiral begin, a fruitless battle. “I’m not doing this right now, okay?”

The liquid courage is working wonders on Robin right now, standing up to face the metalhead eye-to-eye. “Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way, Eddie. You know as well as I do that she has a right to know.”

Eddie’s mouth is open and ready to voice another stern reply, when it’s interrupted by a meek voice behind him. The soft tone does little to soothe the ache growing in his abdomen, not daring to look over his shoulder at the source.

“I have a right to know what?”

Haze.

Disorder.

Stumbling your way through the overbearing smog flooding your consciousness. Gripping to the worn sofa in your living room like it’s a buoy, the only thing grounding you in painful reality.

It’s fragmented, the onslaught of new information cluttering your mind, unable to be sifted through logically.

Owens.

Lowering yourself to the ground, you’ve lost all faith in your legs to keep you upright. Sea legs giving out beneath you, collapsing under the weight of a burdened mind. You quickly put Audrey in her bassinet the second you arrived home, stepping back from her small body like she was made of fire. Delicate, precious, amidst the crumbling ruins of life.

Found.

No.

No, you need someone to cling onto. Polyester beneath your fingernails can never compare to flesh and blood, pumping with life and hope and comfort. Oh god. Craving arms, muscle and sinew engulfing your body, soothing and shushing like you’ve done with your baby countless times. Desperate for the luxury of kindness.

No one to dote.

No one to care.

No one to witness the mortifying pain of existence.

No one to observe the torment they cursed you with in the first place.

Steve.

Crawling up your throat like bile, burning your esophagus as hot lava. You’d welcome the respite of vomit, the substance of it, the satisfaction of exorcism. But no, the painful tar claws its way through your tract, bringing biting tears to your eyes. Hell manifesting in your being. Truth collapsing with a heavy hearted I’m so sorry, bouncing off the walls of the narrow alleyway while you retreated. Words spilling out helplessly from your loose tongue, rage of betrayal driving every consonant and syllable. To never see you again, let alone speak to you.

The loss of everyone, everyone. Robin, Dustin, Nancy, fuck- Eddie. They all knew. They coaxed you through the loss, never allowing for hope to breed. Lies built on mountains of lies, a shamble foundation of friendship. Arms that held your daughter with gentleness and altruism, seemingly all fabricated. Tainting her with every touch, every smile, tongues bleeding as they bit back the truth. Too numb to cry, to even indulge in the agony of feeling.

Beginnings are special, because most of them are fake. Artificial and man-made, entirely composed of brain chemistry and justifications. The person you become after your first glass of wine was already there, fretting below the surface of your facade, chipping away at the mask you present to the world. They never left.

You are at the end of beginning.

#dumbslxtclub #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #dad!eddie #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #singlemom!reader

179 notes · View notes