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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Part Two

15 days before Christmas Steve Harrington flinches when the Christmas lights strung along the arcade flicker.

Eddie only notices because he makes a habit out of keeping an eye on questionable people when he's out and about.

Watches Harrington recover with a little shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, as Gareth finishes up his shift, swapping cashier positions with Jeff.

Dustin and Lucas stick around long enough to greet Jeff as Eddie stares, before scuttling off to Harrington's car, pushing and shoving each other the whole way.

Eddie frowns, but decides to put the whole thing out of his head.

He doesn't need his little lamb's adoration of evil high school figures to poison his day.

xXx

12 days before Christmas and Eddie is starting to realize Harrington is everywhere.

There's a little holiday display the town center has put on. A temporary ice rink surrounded by dazzling lights, hot chocolate stands, and plenty of things to see.

Wayne and Eddie, with their traditional day of Christmas shopping complete, stroll within it, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They never buy much--can’t, but it’s still something fun for Eddie to do with his Uncle and so and he bounces about with glee as they people watch.

A familiar shriek hits the air, and Eddie turns in time to see Mike and Dustin collide on the ice, while Lucas and his sister skate literal circles around them, laughing.

Unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease, Eddie flies to the edge of the rink, waving his hand and demanding one of the kids do a flip.

"A flip!? Eddie, I can't even skate a circle!" Henderson shouts, at the same time as Wheeler adds;

“Let’s see you try and skate with these idiots!”

“Sorry Wheeler, I think getting on the ice with you might be hazardous to my health.”

“Shut up!”

Delightful banter officially traded, Eddie turns to find his Uncle in a conversation with Steve Harrington.

Grin immediately faltering into a frown, he approaches cautiously right in time to see Wayne clap Harrington on the shoulder.

“It gets better.” Wayne says gruffly, in that tone he uses when he’s trying to give deeply emotional advice without the emotional part.

The younger boy gave a hard nod, muttering something that might have been “Thanks.”

Eddie jerked to a stop several steps away, but close enough for Wayne to see him, to know he was done and it was time to go.

Thankfully his Uncle picked up the signal, and made his way over, so the two of them could finish out their lap around the town center.

"He’s one of your classmates, right?" Wayne asked, as they turned away from the rink, Harrington back to watching the kids laugh and play around the ring.

"Not anymore." Eddie scoffs. "That's Steve Harrington."

Wayne hums noncommittally.

"As in, the rich Harrington's.” Eddie prods, because come on everyone knew who the Harrington’s were, just as everyone delighted in rightfully shitting on them. They weren’t good people. “As in, the assholes from Loc Nora?"

Another hum.

Then; "People are more than their last name, Eds. You should know that."

Eddie jerks back, stung at the admonishment.

Wayne’s not mad, never is, but Eddie recognizes his Uncle’s disappointed tone loud and clear.

"One of the gifts you got from me was seein’ through people's bullshit.." Wayne continues, before sucking in a draw on his cigarette. "I'm surprised you didn't see through his."

‘I don’t want to see through his!’ Is what Eddie wants to say, but keeps it to himself.

Changed the subject instead, shoulders hiked to his ears, because Harrington having some kind of claim on his new players was one thing, but his Uncle!?

He didn’t care about whatever crap the guy was going through. King Steve has been an ass for as long as Eddie had known him, the kind of bully whose downfall you cheered for.

Sure it was petty, but guys like Harrington reveled in pettiness.

So who cared if Eddie didn’t want to look closer at him now? Harrington wasn’t a lost lamb.

He was at best, an injured wolf, and no amount of sad looks was going to make him any safer to be around.

xxx

9 days till Christmas and Wheeler is having a tantrum that's delaying Hellfire's holiday oneshot.

"I don't get why he hates Christmas so much. He didn't even know Will when he disappeared!" Mike snips with his arms crossed.

Dustin is across from him, a furious scowl on his face, as Lucas stands between, a physical barrier between the two.

"As usual, you're talking out of your ass, Mike." Henderson spits, furious. "He was in Will's house with Jonathan and Nancy. That's reason enough!"

As if that makes any kind of sense, but then this isn’t the first argument that went into weird territory like this. Eddie’s always prided himself on pulling stories out of people, earning secrets and truths with a well trained ear and a smarter mouth.

The freshman though, were proving to be a hell of a challenge.

Mike throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying, we all have way more reasons to hate Christmas, but none of us are acting like the grinch!"

“I know you can only have two good thoughts a day without breaking your brain, but you're being so stupid." Dustin thunders. "Did you ever think Steve might have other reasons to hate Christmas!?”

Eddie almost groans aloud, because of course, of fucking course, this is about Harrington.

The guy was a goddamn ghost at this point, hellbent on haunting Eddie’s entire life.

Didn’t even have the courtesy to die first!

"Guys." Lucas stressed, hands now firmly pressed against Mike and Dustin’s chest. “Come on, we’re wasting time. We can talk about this later.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Sinclair,” Eddie purred, making the three of them jump, as though they had forgotten they had a full ass audience in the form of the rest of the club. “I’m just docking their HP points for every minute they hold up the game.”

“Shit!” Dustin and Milke yelled as one, scrambling to get to their chairs.

Gareth and Jeff snicker, Grant making it known he was over their antics with a look that could have burnt gold.

Eddie clapped his hands once, hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. “If everyone is done bickering,” He announced, slipping into his DM voice, “we can begin our tale…”

He launches into the story he’d planned, and enjoys pulling everyone into it, all thoughts of Steve Harrington left behind.

xXx

5 Days before Christmas and Eddie is panic shopping.

He’s not the one panicking, nor the one shopping, but he has a car and friends who know where he lives, so he’s woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning (10 am) by Gareth, Grant, and Henderson of all people.

“Gareth’s sister took the car again.” Grant explains with dramatic, rolling eyes at Eddie’s exasperated face.

“I’m sorry you planned going shopping five days before Christmas?”

“Well--no-” Grant continues at the same time Dustin and Gareth yell protests.

They talk over each other for a moment, loud enough to make Eddie crave coffee and the comfort of his bed.

He runs one hand through his frizzy, bedhead hair before yanking it out and waving it around to catch his friend's attention. “Alright, I get it! You all decided to do white elephant gift thing last minute, and are now scrambling."

"Speaking of which, you're invited." Henderson tells him with a cheeky grin. "We're doing it on Christmas Eve."

Of course they were.

"Please man? It'll be fun." Gareth pleads, as Grant shoots him his patented puppy dog eyes.

Eddie sighs.

"I'll do it, but!" He sticks a finger in the air as grins broke out, "I'm demanding food and coffee and payment!"

With that he retreated from the door, stomping back to his room.

"Good coffee, too!" He hollers as he throws on clothes, happy chatter breaking out among his friends.

Several arguments and one run to the best to-go coffee shop in town, and Eddie was following his buddies around as they wandered through downtown Hawkins.

Since the mall had burned, shopping options had been rather limited, shops slow to reopen.

It made it difficult to buy things last minute, but Eddie found it was actually kind of fun as Henderson explained the rules they'd all agreed on (hopefully, Gareth added, because the rules had been passed along in pieces.)

"The goal is to get outrageous, funny stuff." Dustin explains as they browsed the local bookstore. "Nothing more than fifteen dollars, and nothing Christmas-y."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Nothing Christmas-y?" He echoes curiously.

Dustin nods, serious.

"Yeah. Christmas can be kinda a downer for some people. We came up with this as a way to celebrate without all the holiday stuff involved."

"Some people like Harrington?" Eddie guesses, sinking feeling in his stomach.

There's no way Grant and Gareth would've agreed to do a gift exchange with Steve Harrington.

Right?

Dustin sighs dramatically, whole body heaving.

"I know you've got a weird hate-on for him, but this time of year is really hard on Steve." He snaps, exasperated. "It's not my place to talk about it outside the Party, but he doesn't deserve to deal with it on his own."

There's that word again, Party.

Capital P implied, just as it implies that it's a group that Eddie is firmly excluded from.

It stings as it lands, an unintentional insult that reminds Eddie that his newest little lambs have secrets they refuse to share.

Nevermind the fact that Steve is clearly included.

Eddie collects secrets like candy, but his poking and prodding had yet to get him a solid answer on the mysterious "party."

Rather than press, Eddie raises his hands in surrender.

"Easy there, tiger. No offense meant."

Full offense meant actually, but Eddie wasn't in the mood for a full blown Henderson Rant.

Dustin narrows his eyes, but takes his words at face value. "You know, you guys would really like each other if you both just got over yourselves."

Eddie snorts, but covers it by playfully shoving Henderson's cap down into his face.

"When hell freezes over maybe. Now look, they have a new science fiction display!" The last part is sing-songed.

Thoroughly distracted, Dustin lets the conversation drop, much to Eddie's relief.

(Because really him? Liking Harrington?

Not in a million freaking years.)

xxx

It's Christmas Eve and Eddie is staring furiously at Steve Harrington's house.

"No one told me he was involved." He hisses angrily, knuckles white on his steering wheel.

"Oh my god, stop being dramatic." Dustin rolls his eyes as he talks, unbuckling himself. “I told you Steve hates Christmas, so this is how we’re including him!”

Jeff is looking equally uncomfortable, even as Lucas and Mike fall out of the van.

Gareth's car is behind him, Grant with him.

No doubt they too, are staring at the massive house in front of them in horror.

Slowly the elder Hellfire members file out, standing in a clump as the younger members rush forward.

They storm the door like they live in the damn place, fluttering about like moths.

"What the hell." Jeff mutters quietly to Eddie's left.

"Yeah guys, what the hell." Eddie repeats, shooting a glare toward Gareth and Grant. "No one mentioned this part!"

"We didn't know." Gareth defends angrily. "This was all the freshman!"

"Are you idiots coming inside or not!?" Robin Buckley of all people yells, appearing in the now open front door.

Or rather, one of the front doors, because Harrington is rich enough to have two.

"Shit." Eddie mutters.

"It's not weird if we just--leave, right?" Grant mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot.

"It's very weird if we leave." Jeff responds flatly.

A flare of anger ignites in Eddie. It comes from Steve Harrington invading this entire holiday, and Eddie finally has a chance to catch him off guard.

He'd be damned if he let it pass by.

"Brave faces men." He says, tossing his hair back with a jerk of his hand. "We're storming the castle."

Struts forward determinedly, present in hand, fully planning on making Harrington as uncomfortable as he had made Eddie.

Unintentional, or not.

xXx

It's the day before Crapmas, the one holiday Steve hates, and he's somehow been sweet talked into hosting the kids white elephant exchange.

Which was fine--they were welcome in his home anytime and they knew it--but they'd conveniently forgotten to mention this was a Hellfire Club event.

As in, Eddie "the freak" Munson and his crew of three other dudes whose names Steve doesn't know (but who probably knew his.)

"I dunno man, I wasn't the best person to a lot of people." He worried at Dustin this morning, when the brat had sprung it on him. "This probably isn't the best idea."

"Please Steve!? It's too late to change the venue and you promised you'd do a holiday thing with each of us!" Dustin whined on the other end.

At least he had the forethought to not actually use the word "Christmas."

"You did everyone else's, you can't skip out on mine!"

Everyone else's was simple shit like taking them ice skating, or shopping, or making gingerbread houses.

Not hosting a whole ass party with four people who likely hated his guts--and for good reason.

Which Steve repeated to Dustin, staring vacantly at his carefully decorated house.

Once again, his parents had called in designers to come keep appearances, sending along their usual message that they may or may not be home depending upon various work factors.

"We just never know anymore with your father's job honey." His mother slurred on the phone, four years ago. "We'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise."

Like more money on his credit card could fix years of ruined holidays.

(At least them being gone was better than forcing Steve to perform in their horrible holiday parties. Dressing him up like a doll, gathering drunk adults around the piano to make him play horrid Christmas songs.

Showing him off like a well trained dog, complete with finger snaps to signal him to move on to his next trick. )

“Steeeeeeve-!”

As always, Steve crumbled under Dustin's badgering.

"Fine, fine!" He’d said. “You're responsible for letting them know me and Robin are gonna be there though!”

Robin, who’d been laying on his couch, poked her head up at her name.

“They’ll know!” Dustin had promised.

Then abruptly hung up, like the brat he was.

Now four half-terrified, half-murderous looking dudes were staring Steve down as they awkwardly stood in his living room, and he had the wondrous realization that Dustin had probably sprung this on them too.

‘Little. Asshole.’ Steve thinks, but plasters the best non threatening smile on his face.

“Hey, uh, guys.” He says with an awkward little wave.

He gets three sets of glares and one impressive looking spooked face back.

Mike and Lucas were already tackling the snacks he’d put out, cheeks full of chocolates and popcorn. Dustin was re-arranging furniture to his liking, and Robin, in-between her four classmates and Steve, glanced at both sides and rolled her eyes.

“Steve, go pull the pizza out of the oven. You lot, come sit down, you look like you’re about to bolt.” Robin snaps, making everyone sans the kids jump.

Happy for the distraction, Steve quickly retreats to his kitchen, overhearing Robin try and get the elder Hellfire members to identify themselves.

Chatter fills the room, slow at first, but it becomes more fluid with Robin’s ruthless prodding. The pizza ends up needing another five minutes, which suits Steve since he hadn’t had time to pull out drinks.

He’s bent at the waist, pulling out various cans when Dustin loudly announces his presence by barging into the fridge and smacking Steve’s ass with it.

With a yelp, cans fly everywhere as Steve drops them, bouncing off the floor and rolling across the kitchen.

“Henderson!” He gripes, standing up as the kid grins at him. He has all his teeth now but the smile will probably always feel cute to Steve. By-product of knowing the little shit for far too long.

“Sorry Steve.” He says dismissively, before stepping aside with a dramatic flair. “Now stop being a total housewife for a second and meet Eddie!”

The sound of cans still rolling ringing in his ears, Steve finds himself staring into Munson’s eyes.

Who looks all too delighted to have seen Steve fumble.

“Thought you were a jock, Harrington. What happened to those reflexes?” He smirks, and Steve feels his face flush red.

“Yeah well,” Steve says, hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck, “Turns out hanging around kids kinda ruins them.”

This is clearly not the response Eddie was expecting.

Nor is he expecting Dustin to loudly announce that; “Steve once played a D&D campaign with us, but he totally ate it as a cleric. You should give him some tips, Eddie!”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to smirk, because Munson looks completely thrown.

“Is…that a joke?” Eddie asks carefully, looking between the two of them.

Dustin shakes his head. “Nope! You can ask Lucas’s sister, she was there.”

He then glances down at his watch, and gives the biggest fake gasp Steve has ever heard (and Steve once sat through Will and Mike acting in a play for their English class, while Nancy and Jonathan silently suffered second-hand embarrassment next to him.)

“Oh shit, I forgot something! Be right back!”

“Language!” Steve calls, as Dustin shoots out of the kitchen. “And be careful not to trip on the cans!”

Munson, who looks like he’s taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Twilight Zone, stares at him. “Did you seriously play a cleric?”

“Weave Healington was a brave man who sacrificed himself in a time of need.” Steve tells him seriously, just to see the guy’s reaction. “May he rest in peace.”

“Weave Healington.” Eddie deadpans.

Steve, keeping his face blank by the skin of his teeth, nods.

“Please tell me that wasn’t the pizza you just dropped.” Robin says as she flies into the kitchen, interrupting Eddie’s face rapidly cycling through different emotions with a badly wrapped present in her hands.

“Stevie boy dropped the pop, Buckley Bird.” Eddie says, recovering quickly. “I would not recommend drinking out of anything currently laying on the floor.”

“Noted.” Robin says, pausing to stare at the cans scattered about. “Hey Steve, did you wrap your weird eyeball thingie? Or do you want me to do it? I dunno how long the kids are gonna wait.”

Like a dog hearing a whistle, Munson’s whole head tips sideways. “Weird eyeball thingie?”

“Oh my god, it’s this--I don’t even know how to describe it. Like an alternative ouija board? It says it’s a “fortune telling game.” Robin makes the quotation marks with her hands. “It has this giant, ugly eyeball in the middle.”

She leans forward conspiratorially to add; “It glows in the dark.”

“Oh my god, Steve, your gift is Ka-Bala!?” Dustin says, bouncing up like a damn jack-in-the-box. “I’ve always wanted that game!”

“Robin!” Steve hisses, because of course she’d announce that right as Dustin would pop back up.

“Oh shit.” Robin says, shooting him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your gift.”

Steve sighs dramatically, but keeps a small grin on his face so Robin knows he’s not really upset. “Guess I’ll have to go find a new one--which means your punishment is that you and Dustin are now in charge of the pizza. And also picking up all the cans.”

“Curses.” Robin says flatly, before breaking out into a grin herself, while Dustin whines.

“It’s probably for the best.” Eddie says, though the guy sounds weirdly like someone desperately off balance and scrambling to fix it. “You know you weren’t supposed to pick cool gifts, right Harrington?”

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Cool? It’s kinda weird. It’s disgustingly neon green. And Robin forgot to mention it’s a board game.”

He pushes Dustin’s hat down as he walks by, and laughs aloud when Eddie follows up by knocking it right off Henderson’s head.

“Hey!” Dustin squeaks, hands darting to cover his hat hair.

He’s ignored.

“Neon green, giant eyeball, fortune telling board game?” Eddie sums up. “Yeah might have to murder Buckley because that sounds rad as hell.”

Steve snorts as he walks down the hall and up the stairs, somehow unsurprised to find the metalhead is following.

“You want it, Munson?” He asks as they hit his second floor, Steve aiming for his fathers office. “You’re welcome to it, I never even opened the thing.”

“What do you want for it?” Eddie asks, following Steve right through the door, before stopping dead.

A typical reaction to someone walking into his fathers stuffy, stupidly expensive office. Like the rest of Steve’s house, it looks as though it was transported straight out of a magazine. Everything is shiny and worse--unused.

“Nothing, man.” Steve said, standing in front of said desk now with his arms crossed. “I mean it, it’s still got the plastic on it. You’re gonna have to sneak it by Dustin though.” He turned to smile at Eddie, feeling like they were sharing a joke, “He might physically fight you for it.”

For some reason this made a hell of a blush streak across Munson’s cheeks, before the guy coughed and swung into the office behind Steve.

“He can try.” Eddie managed finally, voice a shade higher than normal.

As he always did to social things he didn’t understand, Steve just ignored the change.

“Why’d you never play it?” Eddie asks, as Steve scans the shelves of stupidly expensive knick-knacks.

“Someone trying to impress my parents got it for me one Christmas.” He says with a shrug. “They wouldn’t let me open it then, and I forgot all about it until I was digging for something else.”

“They don’t care about it now I take it?”

Steve can’t help the snort that leaves his throat. “They’d have to be around to care.” Then to get the conversation back on track, says; “Okay, I’m thinking the shitty World’s Best Boss trophy.”

He points to the gaudy thing, all shiny from the ass kissing the person who’d purchased it had done in hopes Steve’s dad would give him a raise. Or not fire him, Steve never knew which it was.

"I take it your dad’s not gonna be here to care that it’s gone?” Eddie asks, walking up to stand next to Steve.

Another grin appears on Steve’s face, shared conspiratorially with Eddie when he looks over to the metalhead. “That’s my gift to myself man. I’m gonna see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone.”

Eddie whistled, quiet enough to not hurt Steve’s ears. “Fuck the old man, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping forward to fish the trophy down.

“Gotta say man, you’re surprising me. I didn’t expect such a thing from you. Especially since Henderson told me you hate Christmas.”

Steve shrugged as he turned back around, new white elephant gift in hand. “Yeah it’s a thing I’m trying.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not hating Christmas?”

“Not being a dick. Which,” He shook the trophy, “--means sticking it to the biggest dick in my life. I think I’ll always hate Christmas.”

Eddie snorted a laugh, then looked startled, like he hadn’t expected that reaction out of himself.

Steve grinned at it.

“You uh--you know if you ever want to talk about the hating Christmas thing, I think I get it. Or can relate. Sorta.” Eddie says, and it’s so stilted that it takes Steve a moment to figure out what he’s offering.

He almost asks him if he’s kidding, but thinks better of it.

“I think I’m less cut up about it then the kids are but, for what it’s worth--thanks.”

Doesn’t think he’ll ever take anyone up on that offer, epically not someone who doesn’t know that an entire hell dimension exists under them but--

It’s nice. To have someone recognize that Steve hates it. That there are reasons he might.

He recalls suddenly that the man at the ice rink who’d also seen through his melancholy was in fact, Eddie’s Uncle, and briefly wonders if this just runs through the family.

“Come on, I gotta wrap this and then get back downstairs before Robin and Dustin burn the house down.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to get in his own head about it. Not tonight, when he knows the kids have gone out of their way in an effort to celebrate the holiday without making him feel like he was celebrating it. “Or worse, they start the white-elephant without us.”

“After you, my liege.” Eddie says with a dramatic bow.

Steve pauses awkwardly for a moment, before giving the world's most careful curtsey back.

(Laughs loudly as Eddie almost falls on his face in surprise, before the older man scrambles to chase after Steve, out of the office.)

xXx

It’s 12:00 pm, making it officially Christmas day, and Eddie Munson is rapidly re-evaluating his entire life.

Well perhaps not all of it, just the parts with Steve Harrington.

They’re playing the best white-elephant game Eddie has ever participated in, a cutthroat competition that’s filled the house with shrieks and laughter.

Henderson’s gift, cat-paw shaped mittens with “You’ve gotta be kitten me” scrawled on the back is the current winning prize, with Mike’s salt and pepper shakers made in the shape of two pigs “porking” being a close second.

The worst gift is a tie between the eye searing scarf Gareth’s mother had created (complete with bedazzled gems) and an abomination of a stuffed animal Grant insists is an ET doll.

It looked like a deformed llama sat on its ass, and Lucas already scared Mike with it twice.

Eddie’s own gift, ( a mug with Tom Selleck posing shirtless) was jokingly fought over by Robin and Steve to the bitter end, while Gareth was defending the blue circular cookie tin (the kind that mothers shoved needles and sewing threads into, but shockingly enough actually held real cookies) with his life.

Literally at one point, as he laid over it while Jeff tackled him.

Eddie himself had gone for the gold, wanting the trophy Steve had procured. He too, was defending it aggressively against Dustin, who was currently stuck with Lucas’s gift (one of his sister’s pet rock creations she’d apparently tried to sell to her classmates.

It was hideous.)

Now stretched out on his bed, legs in the air as he stares at the Ka-Bala game Steve had snuck into his arms with a wink, Eddie finds he’s the guy’s managed to go from haunting his whole life, to trying to haunt his heart.

Made him want to do the thing he’d angrily been against this entire time--take a look at the guy closer.

See past his bullshit, at the person hiding underneath.

Find out what Steve was talking to his Uncle about, and why his house looked like a Christmas themed tomb.

Why his parents were gone. What the hell made him he pick a cleric in D&D. How he met the kids and why Dustin thought the sun shines out of his ass.

But most of all?

Why the hell had Steve Harrington put a note on the back of the Ka-Bala game?

‘Hope you like the game..’ It read, with the dorkiest little smiley face. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out again.’

Below it was a number, and Eddie felt himself go red in the face.

Steve Harrington was a fucking mystery, but one Eddie himself, had been personally invited to solve.

‘Merry Christmas to me I guess.’ He thought, and tried very, very hard not to kick his legs in the air.

#I invite you all to end your xmas with some steddie fluff #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #0o0 fanfics #xmas special #fluff #Ka #Ka-Bala is a real game and its the goofiest looking thing ever.#white elephant

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soupjester · 2 months

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Ed! Do you know this guy?! He’s a complete ASSHOLE!

#OFMD #stede bonnet #edward teach #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #rhys darby #renew as a crew #digital art #procreate #sketch

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ziggyzolch · 1 month

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Queen Bee-atch II (Regina George x Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of weight, implied eating disorder, Insecurity. No numbers mentioned.

✮✮✮

"Class isn't over yet, I haven't dismissed you!" The teacher's demands fall on deaf ears as the students pack up before the lunch bell rings, eager to see their friends. Your first three classes were relatively uneventful, the only entertaining thing being this ginger girl you've never seen before attempting to leave class without permission. Your eyes scan the hallways after you exit the classroom. Janis and Damien are the only people you can tolerate at this school, so they're the only people you ever seek out. There they are.

You make your way through the crowded hallway and purposefully shoulder-bump your target.

"What is wrong with you- oh you asshole!" Janis curses lightheartedly. She pulls you into a hug and kisses your forehead while you stand awkwardly with your hands at your sides. Instead of waiting for his turn, Damien joins in and wraps his arms around you and Janis. "I missed you guys so much!" You manage to get out while still in the bone crushing hug. "Where were you this whole summer? You went completely, like, radio silent." Damien asks with a suspicious look in his eyes. "Sorry, I got grounded for the whole summer. My mom found my cigarette stash." You confessed. "Idiot. Anyways, did you see that new girl?" Janis switches topics and Damien chimes in, "Yeah she's, like, a total disaster. We need to save her." Their words are background noise to you. You're staring through Janis, zoned out. Damien and Janis give each other a look.

Flick

"Hey what the hell!" You whine as you rub your forehead. "You weren't with us man, your eyes were drifting apart from each other and everything. Pretty sure I saw a bit of drool dribble out-" you lightly punch Janis before she can continue. "Yeah I was! You were saying something about that new girl. I think her name was 'Caddy' or something.", you defend. "She's a disaster, we should probably help her." Damien stares at you. "Babe, I just said that." Janis stares between you guys before interrupting. "Anyways...let's go look for her!"

Janis and Damien were your best, and only, friends. You wouldn't know what to do without them. As such, you basically stuck to them whenever you could in school. Following them to the cafeteria, you take your seats at your designated table. You spot female Ed Sheeran standing awkwardly in the middle of the cafeteria. She looks so stupid.

"Hey guys should we call her over?" You ask your friends. They stop their conversation and look at where you're pointing. Janis nods and yells out, "Hey ginger! What did you say her name was? Was it Caddy? Caddy!" The girl turns and points at herself, mouthing out a 'me?'. She comes over after we confirm and we all introduce ourselves. "...and that's Damien, he's almost too gay to function." Janis concludes. "So Cady, what do you think of the school so far?" You question. "Oh, I don't really know, I used to be homeschooled so I don't have much to compare it to." Cady replies.

You, Janis, and Damien all look at each other and back at her.

She raises an eyebrow.

You all begin going on about what to know about the high school: The best hiding places, teachers to avoid pissing off and such, and the various cliques in this school. "...and those are the sexually active band geeks. Don't walk too close, lest you get dragged into their never-ending orgy." You finish. Cady glances behind her and asks "What about them? They're kind of pretty." You all turn to see who she's looking at. "Oh honey, no no no, those are the plastics..." Damien goes on his little cautionary rant about how evil they are. You looked towards Cady and smiled while rolling your eyes.

While you're both giggling, your eyes lock onto Regina's...who is currently approaching your table. Perfect. "Hey, Gerard," Damien gives you a confused look at the name, "Who's this girl with you? Why don't I know you?"

You zone out looking at her when she turns away from you, gushing over Cady. You wish her attention was on you. Wait what- You're taken out of your reverie as Cady gets up and follows behind Regina towards her group. "Finally back to the present? What is up with you dude you've been out of it this whole day!" You shrug your shoulders at Janis and turn your gaze back to Regina. What's so great about 'Caddy' that caught the attention of Regina? You could look just as helpless if you wanted to, but you won't! Not on purpose anyways.

You get up.

"I'm going to the bathroom"

Janis replies while looking towards the plastics, "We'd come with, but we kind of want to see where this goes."

✮✮✮

The sounds of her friends taking Cady through the requirements to be a Plastic fade as she makes her way to the bathroom. She had forgotten her pocket mirror and had to re-apply her lip gloss, duh. A stench that can only be accomplished by a high school bathroom gets stronger as she opens the door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you reapplying your mascara at the sink.

"Hey Brendon Urie."

You hadn't even noticed someone walking in.

"God, that's actually worse than Gerard." You look at her through the mirror.

She moves a bit closer, "You look so familiar."

"Must've seen me in your dreams," You say while awkwardly winking at her.

She raises an eyebrow, "No, I know you. I swear I do!"

"Well yeah, I'm the one and only Gerard Way! Lead singer of My Chemical Romance-"

"Enough," She rolls her eyes.

You finish up and make your way out of the bathroom, cautiously walking around her with your arms up. "You'll figure it out. Don't worry, Blondie."

She watches you exit the bathroom.

✮✮✮

"Oh my god! Regina, remember this?" Regina glared at her mom as she continued trying to seem cool to her friends. She's known them for years! Why does she keep doing this? Cady looks at the book in Mrs. George's hands.

"What is that?"

"No way! We used this book to make fun of the freaks in our school. We'd tape photos of people then write down insults-"

"She understands, Gretchen. Can you get us some snacks, Mom?"

As Regina's mom walks out of the room, the girls are looking through the various insults in the book. They eventually land on a page with a picture of you and Janis.

'Janis, Pyro Lez' 'Y/N, puts in 110% effort because she takes up 110% of the room.'

Cady's eyes widen. "That's not even her." She says while looking at the picture of you.

"I think she moved schools, wait how do you know her?" Gretchen stops what she's doing to ask.

"I sit with her at lunch"

"What? There's no way, that Gerard Way girl?" Regina chimes in and moves from her spot at the mirror to look at the picture.

"Woah, did she just melt off half her body weight since freshman year?"

"I'm so jealous." Karen adds.

Regina stares at the picture of you. So that's why she knew you.

✮✮✮

You, Damien, Janice and Cady are all gathered around at your locker. "...and it's just a collection of insults, basically." Cady had been giving a summary of the events from the previous day.

Janice's eyes go wide. "Does it say anything about me?"

"Uhm, nope. Nothing about you."

"Ugh, those bitches."

You didn't want to ask if you were in it. You had an idea of what the insults towards you could be, and you'd rather not have your suspicions confirmed.

The bell rings, interrupting the powwow. You all bid each other goodbye, and make your way to your classes. PE was your next period, and you couldn't wait. It was a break from all the thinking you had to do.

You head towards the gym after switching into your exercise clothes. Most of your clothes were oversized and baggy, including your gym ones. You hadn't really upgraded your wardrobe since you lost weight. Everybody was already in, gathered in a circle, so you pushed yourself in, not paying attention to who you were standing next to.

"Alright! Today, we'll be playing soccer! Or football, as some of you may call it." The PE teacher announces, mumbling the last part of his sentence. "We will work in pairs today, so find a pair. Or partner, I mean. Whatever, just get moving."

"I can't believe they assigned that guy to teach us Sex-ed." Was someone talking to you?

You look behind you to find Regina looking down at you with a...genuine smile on her face? That can't be right.

"Right! He gives off the same vibe as those Reddit incels."

"That's so funny."

Are you having a normal conversation? With the queen bitch?

"What did you call me?"

Oh shit, you said that out loud.

"Uh-"

"Whatever, you wanna pair up? None of my friends are in this class, and you're the least annoying one here."

Thanks. You look around to make sure there are no other possible options. Regina rolls her eyes and grabs your arm, pulling you to an empty spot.

She was actually decent at football. You guys were practicing passing to each other while running and you were starting to feel lightheaded.

You waved to Regina, "Hey, I'm just going to get a sip of water."

"I'll come with."

"You should play football more often, you're more tolerable like this."

"Bold, are we?"

"I mean, I basically just called you a bitch and you haven't punched me in the face. So I'm right"

She laughed! What is up with her?

✮✮✮

Regina enters the locker room and spots you with your shirt halfway up. You really did lose half your body weight. Guilt pierces through her. Freshman year Regina was cruel. Somehow crueler than she is now, and fat girls were just easy to bully. Did you drop weight because of her?

Your shirt had gotten snagged on both your necklace and bracelet. After watching you twist and wriggle around for a while, Regina deems you sufficiently embarrassed and walks towards you to help you out.

You feel someone pull your shirt up and off of you. You had made sure to go into the locker room after everyone had already left. So when you were finally free of your cloth prison and came face to face with Regina. You felt nauseous. Of everyone!

She looks you up and down and suddenly you're more self conscious than you've ever been. Wrapping your arms around your stomach, you mumble out a 'Thanks' and put on your other shirt then hurriedly pack up and rush out of the locker room, leaving a guilt-ridden Regina behind.

✮✮✮

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #fanfic #wlw #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #regina george x you #mean girls the musical #regina george is a lesbian #wlw fiction #regina george icons

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bornonthesavage · 1 year

Text

Tell Me "Don't", So I Can Crawl Back In Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Eddie Munson was having a crisis. No, maybe that was too strong a word. This was just a minor existential examination of everything he’d ever known. Because up until today, it had been a known truth of the universe that all jocks were irredeemable assholes whose sole purpose in life was to make Eddies worse. And for the most part, that was still what he believed. Except, now there was big, glaring dent in this truth. A big, glaring dent in the form of Steve Harrington.

When he’d looked up and seen that stupid, handsome face, he’d immediately known he was about to have a bad time. Would probably have his papers stomped on, maybe a few books ripped. So one can forgive Eddie his momentary lack of brain function when Steve actually got down and started to help. And then he apologized. Like, actually apologized. And he seemed sincere. Which had completely knocked the wind out of Eddie’s sails. He’d been so prepared to say something scathing, to mock him and then hightail it out of there before he got his ass kicked.

But then, to make it worse, Steve knew about Dungeons and Dragons. And he babysat. He babysat nerdy kids who played Dungeons and Dragons, and he offered that information up like it was nothing. Like it didn’t rock Eddie to his very fucking core. And then, of course, he delivered the killing blow in the form of a genuine smile. Like he was made of fucking sunshine.

Goddamn it. Eddie had done such a good job at keeping his horrible, ill-advised crushes on straight boys under control. Because sure, he’d looked at Steve before. It was impossible not to, when he looked like freaking Apollo, all golden tanned and built like a dream. Being that Eddie was the only queer guy he knew of in Hawkins, it wasn’t like he had any choice but to have crushes on straight guys. Pickings were slim, and Eddie was starving.

So yes, he’d snuck a look at Steve in the past. Either in the halls, or as he jogged around the track field, or on one memorable occasion when he’d accidentally stumbled into a swim meet and caught an eyeful of tight little swim trunks. But that was fine. Looking was fine.

Only, now he’d talked to him. And Steve was no longer just a hot, mean jock. Because he hadn’t seemed mean at all. He’d seemed pretty nice, actually. Maybe that was what happened, when a person lost everything that had once made them what they were. Now, Steve had to reinvent what he was. Well, if that was the case, he was off to a pretty good start. Maybe Eddie could give him a few pointers. Take him under his wing. Maybe Steve would---

No. No! He was not going to go down that rabbit hole. That was dangerous. What he needed to do was stay far away from Steve Harrington. That pretty boy was nothing but trouble, and Eddie had more than enough of that in his life as it was.

He dragged his pillow up and pressed it over his face before screaming into it. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t actually be this weak. One nice smile sent his way, and he was ready to drop all his carefully crafted walls. It was pathetic.

Eddie rolled off his bed and climbed to his feet. This was fine. It wasn’t like Steve was ever going to talk to him again. Today had been a total fluke. From now on he could go back to sneaking glances across crowded rooms. So really, there was no need to dwell on this. He repeated that sentiment as he made his way out of his room and to the kitchen, where he proceeded to make the worlds loudest bowl of cereal. And the thing was, he didn’t even realize how hard he was slamming the cabinets until Wayne looked up from the tv.

“Eds, what on Gods green earth has gotten you so worked up?”

He huffed. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Wayne gave him a look. “Now I know that ain’t true. The only time you slam shit is when you’ve gotten yourself all worked up about something. So, spill.”

Eddie growled and shoved the milk roughly back into the fridge. “It’s just… Gah!” He scooped up a too big bite of cereal and shoveled into his mouth. “Stupid boys! And their stupid smiles!”

Wayne, of course, knew about Eddie. Had know for years. But they didn’t talk about it. Not beyond the initial talk they’d had, when Wayne had assured him that he would love and support Eddie no matter what. And then, after that, the very awkward and horrible discussion about safe sex. Which wasn’t an issue for Eddie, considering he was a virgin.

“Well,” Wayne said slowly. “I can’t say I relate. But, yeah. I understand the sentiment.”

Eddie shook his head and glared into his bowl. “He thinks he can just smile at me, and I’ll forget about what a douche bag he was.”

Wayne hummed. “No, you don’t want to be getting mixed up with that sort.”

“Exactly!” Eddie cried, pointing his spoon at his uncle. “Exactly.”

Without another word, he turned and scampered back into his room. Once he was safely tucked into his cocoon of blankets, he let himself ruminate on the problem of Steve. Because really, what sort of name was that. Steve. Just a boring old name. The kind of name Eddie imagined a mailman to have.

Steve could be a mailman, if he wanted to. He’d look good, in those khaki shorts. Eddie could picture him, biceps bulging as he hefted a large package to Eddie’s door. Maybe he’d be hot and would need to come inside to cool down. And once inside, maybe he’d feel the need to deliver a different sort of package… No! Shit, no no no.

Eddie clamped his teeth down on his spoon hard enough to hurt. This was ridiculous. Harrington didn’t deserve a starring role in his fantasies. It wasn’t like he’d done anything great. So what, he’d picked up a few papers. Big deal. No, it was imperative that Eddie put Steve out of his mind completely.

That became an issue the very next day. Eddie was situated at the head of the lunch table, just like always. His pack of merry freaks lined the table, already talking over each other about one thing or another. Gareth and Jeff had their head bowed together, discussing something to do with D&D. Josie and Mic were arguing over something that had happened in history class, while Grant and Todd discussed a movie they’d gone to see over the past weekend. Eddie grinned as he observed his friends. This was his domain, and there was peace.

At least there was, until out of the corner of his eyes, Eddie spotted an approaching enemy. And okay, maybe it was a bit much to call Steve an enemy. Before yesterday, sure. But now… Steve was an anomaly. An anomaly that was rapidly approaching their table with a tray in hand. Eddie sat frozen, his eyes wide, all the way up until Steve stopped beside him. The rest of the table seemed to have noticed him as well, as they’d fallen silent. Steve smiled down at Eddie as if he weren’t doing the strangest thing that had ever happened at Hawkins High.

“Hey Eddie, what’s up?”

He could physically feel his brain reeling, searching in his files for what the appropriate response to this situation was. All he could come up with was a garbled “Wha?”

Steve didn’t seem phased. “I said, what’s up? How’re you doing?”’

Eddie blinked rapidly. “Uh, yeah man. I’m fine. Did you… need something?”

“Oh, actually.” Steve reached around into his back pocket and pulled out a folded black square of cloth. A very familiar one, at that. He’d honestly thought he’d lost it. But to see it now, held out in Steve Harrington’s hand, was almost too much. Eddie choked.

“You dropped this yesterday, and I wanted to give it back. Wasn’t sure if it had any significant meaning to you.”

Yeah, you could say that. Eddie reached out slowly, almost afraid Steve was about to rip his hand away and call him out. Tell the whole school what a black hanky meant, and what that made Eddie. But that didn’t happen. Steve allowed the cloth to slip through his fingers, all the while wearing that same casual grin.

“Oh, um. Thanks dude.”

“It’s no problem,” Steve said with a shrug.

Eddie expected him to leave, now that he’d done his daily good deed or whatever. But he didn’t. Steve continued to stand beside him, looking infuriatingly normal. As if this wasn’t so, so weird. Then, to make matters even more bizarre, he turned his smile on the rest of the table.

“Hey guys.”

It took monumental effort, but Eddie finally managed to drag his eyes away from Steve and back to his friends. It was actually pretty funny, the way they all wore matching expression of astoundment and confusion. Their faces looked the way Eddie felt on the inside. Nobody gave a response. When Steve still didn’t leave, Eddie cleared his throat.

“Uh, was there something else you needed?”

Steve’s expression shifted then, turning almost bashful. Eddie despised how cute he found it. “Actually, yeah. I was sort of wondering if I could sit with you?”

The silence that rang, following that statement, was loud. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could see his friends begin to shift with distrust. Because yeah, this was really bizarre. At least Eddie had some context, given their encounter yesterday. But had Steve really fallen so low, so desperate for friends, that he was willing to slum it with the freaks?

The awkwardness seemed to finally catch up with Steve, as he began to ramble. “It’s just, I was late to the cafeteria, so my usual table is taken. And, I mean, I guess I could go eat outside or in the library, but that seems like a level of lame I’d rather not fall to. So I saw you, and remembered I had to return your bandana. And then I saw you had extra chairs and figured I’d ask. But if not it’s fine, I can go—”

“No!”

Eddie wanted to clamp a hand over his own stupid mouth. Did he have to sound so loud and eager? Fuck, he really was pathetic. But at least Steve wasn’t much better, with the way he was staring down at Eddie with those big, brown eyes.

“I just mean, no, it’s fine. You can sit with us.” Eddie explained. His shin received a hard kick from under the table, but he ignored it. “If his highness wishes to dine with the peasants, who am I to deny him?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I already told you, I’m not a king anymore.”

“Ah!” Eddie cried, leaping to his feet. “A fallen heir. How tragic. Well, I always have room in my court for a weary traveler.”

What the fuck was he doing? He should be telling Steve to go away, to leave them alone. There was no way this was going to be a good thing for his newfound straight boy crush. And yet his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, that filthy traitor. And it was worse, when Steve lit up like Eddie had just told him today was second Christmas. Because oh no. Now Eddie wanted to see that again. He wanted to please Steve Harrington.

“Oh, cool. Thanks. I can sit down at the end, if you want.”

Yeah, that would be good. Put some distance between them. Of course, his stupid fucking mouth had other ideas. “No, it’s fine. Just pull a chair up next to me.”

Fuck! That wasn’t what he’d meant to say! God dammit. But it was too late, because Steve was already beaming like a kid at Disneyland. Eddie watched as he set his tray down, then walked to a nearby table and stole a chair to drag over. He shot a panicked glance at his friends, and found that they were all looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Gareth’s face very clearly said “What the hell are you doing?” Eddie sent him a desperate shrug.

Steve plopped down right beside Eddie. Which was so stupid, because there definitely wasn’t enough room at the head of the table for two people. It forced them to sit practically pressed against each other, with Steve’s warm thigh lining up perfectly with Eddie’s leg. Steve didn’t even seem to notice. He just cast a guileless smile around to the rest of the gang.

“So, what’s up?”

Based on all the blank faces, that seemed to be what everyone else was thinking. Jeff was the first that seemed to recover, as he cast a look between Steve and Eddie. “Uh, yeah, we’re kind of wondering the same thing.”

Steve ripped open a bag of chips and threw a few into his mouth. “Oh, shit, sorry. Did Eddie not tell you? We sort of started talking yesterday when I accidentally ran into him. We shared some minor bonding over my slight knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons, so we’re pretty much friends now.”

They were? What the fuck? This was news to him! The rest of the group was looking at Eddie now though, and he was really not prepared to unpack all this with an audience. He waved his hands.

“All of you, as you were. Stop gawking like heathens, just because we have a bit of fresh meat at the table.”

There were several shouts of indignation, but Eddie silenced them with a look. They would discuss this later, but not here. It wasn’t like Eddie was opposed to making a scene. Oh no, he engaged in a good bit of table theater at least once per week. But in this instance, he had no idea what to make of this new development. It was unnerving, and Eddie needed time to poke at it before he made any moves. Surely Steve had some ulterior motives. Whatever they were, Eddie would find them.

Reluctantly, the rest of the group went back to their conversations. Which left Eddie with Steve, who was looking at him with an amused curl to his mouth.

“What?”

“That was pretty impressive.”

“What was?”

Steve rolled his eyes. What a bitch. “How you got them all to listen to you. I could use a few pointers. Maybe then I could get the middle schoolers I look after to actually do what I say for once.”

Eddie grinned wide, showing off all his teeth. “It’s all in the presentation, Stevie boy. If you hold yourself like you’re the one in charge, everyone else will listen.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Steve said, chewing slowly. “That’s kind of what I used to do. It works better on people our age, though. Middle schoolers can see through an act like nobody’s business.”

“Well then, Stevie boy, make sure it’s not an act.”

Steve huffed. “That’s easier said than done. Especially when I have no clue what I’m doing most of the time. Fake it till you make it only works when you have at least a tiny bit of a plan. I’m just out here wandering through the dark.”

Well shit, that sounded awfully close to vulnerability. “Careful, Steve, you don’t want to go around admitting that sort of thing where predators might hear you.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow up. “What, like you?”

Huh. Nobody, ever, in their right mind had referred to Eddie as a predator. No, he figured he belonged somewhere in the small mammal category. Like a gopher, or maybe a mink. You could probably make a real nice fur coat out of him.

“Buddy boy, out of the two of us, I think you fall more in line with the predators.”

Steve hummed and popped a grape into his mouth. Eddie watched, transfixed, as Steve rolled the fruit around in his mouth. First to one cheek, then the other, before letting it pop back to the front of his teeth. What the fuck? Just eat the damn thing!

“I feel like I’m more of a golden retriever,” he eventually said. “Does that count as a predator?”

Eddie snorted. “No, it doesn’t. But I’m not so sure about a golden retriever. You’re too bitchy for that. Maybe a different breed.”

“And which breed would that be?” Steve asked, tilting his head.

“Don’t know. Can’t say I know you all that well.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, as though considering. “That’s fair. Tell you what, once we hang out a little more, you let me know which breed of dog you think I am. Okay?”

Eddie knew he should object, tell him to go find someone else to bother. But he was, in fact, a weak, weak man. And here Steve Harrington was, saying he wanted to hang out. And he was supposed to, what? Tell him no? Have restraint? Self-respect? It was overrated. Especially when compared with the opportunity to sit in the presence of a very pretty boy. So, Eddie found himself nodding his head, meeting Steve’s eye.

“Alright Harrington. You’ve got a deal.”

Read and follow along on AO3

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #these boys don't know what they've gotten themselves into

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months

Text

Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11

Prompt: Royalty AU

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson; Royal Steve Harrington; Meet cute; Flirting; Secret Identity; Sort of angsty/open ending

"So, tommorow…" Chrissy says from behind the folder they've been provided. It looks so posh with its dark green binding, the royal sigil embossed on it in gold print. Eddie hates it. It probably thinks it's so much better than the other folders. "When you're introduced to Prince Steven, you're to address him as Your Royal Highness. After that, you call him Sir."

"What, really? Dude, at least buy me dinner before we start with the kinky shit."

Chrissy shoves his feet off the desk, which almost makes him topple off his chair.

"Can you take this seriously? A royal visit is an important matter. We can certainly use the publicity-"

Eddie's hand crashes down on the desk. "I'm a fucking rockstar, Chris. That ain't enough publicity? This place is my baby, mine. What does that royal asshole know about what it's like to have a rough childhood? He thinks he can come here, give a little speech, smile for the cameras, and suddenly it's all about him?"

"What, now you care?"

He whirls on her, but the look she gives him makes him freeze. Chrissy sighs.

"Eds, you are so busy with the new album and the tour, you haven't even met the new volunteers. I said I'd manage the place, and that's fine. But you must trust me. Just do it for me. Please?"

The skate park has new graffiti, and he hasn't even seen it yet. Eddie exhales his cigarette smoke and watches how it curls up to the sign spelling Hellfire Youth Center.

Maybe Chrissy is right. Maybe he should be here more. Maybe he's been so caught up in the whole fame and fortune thing, he's losing sight of what's important, like-

"Watch out!"

Like guys on skateboards barrelling towards him.

Eddie throws up his hands. The guy tries to swerve, completely tips his precarious balance, and goes flying off the board and right into him. They land on the asphalt with an undignified oomph.

"Shit, sorry," babbles the guy and tries to disentangle his limbs from Eddie’s. "Couldn't brake-"

"S alright," Eddie hears himself say, even though his ass hurts like a bitch from the impact and he can already feel the bruises forming. "You can fall into my arms any time."

Skateboard guy blinks up at him and - fuuuck, he's cute! In a scrungly, beanie-stuffed-over-chestnut-locks, black-rimmed-nerd-glasses kind of way.

For a second, nobody says anything.

"For fuck’s sake," someone swears, and then little Max Mayfield is running towards them, ginger braids jumping with the movement. "I told you to be careful."

"Sorry," cutie with the glasses says again. Eddie has never seen him around. He must be one of the new volunteers Chrissy mentioned. "Guess I'll need to practice some mo- ow, shit!"

His hands fly up to cradle his knee. There's a hole and a rapidly spreading bloodstain in the fabric of his jeans.

"Oh fuck," Eddie says, and whips his bandana from his back pocket to press it to the wound. "Red, why don't you hop inside and get the first aid kit? I'll stay here with …"

He trails off expectantly. Cutie's eyes go wide.

"I, erm … Dustin."

"I'll stay here with Dustin."

Dustin, it turns out, isn't just cute, but also fun to talk to. He doesn’t gush about what a huge fan he is or ask for an autograph once. Eddie never thought he'd appreciate that one day, but it gets really old really quick.

Instead, they jump from one topic to the next, sitting on one of the benches and watching Max go on her board. Dustin has a quick, sharp wit and isn't afraid to counter Eddie’s jabs with his own, delightfully bitchy sense of humor. Damn, to think he almost missed this one. He really needs to be around more.

"I love this place, y’know? You created something great for these kids."

Eddie jerks to attention. The sun has started to dip, casting Dustin’s smile and the hair poking from his beanie in a soft golden light.

"Thanks man," Eddie murmurs, and feels the bitterness boil back up. "Some people seem to think it needs better publicity, though."

Dustin shuffles awkwardly, winces when the movement pulls on the Care Bears bandaids Max has plastered all over his knee.

"You mean the royal visit?"

Eddie huffs.

"Yeah, man. I mean, what are they expecting me to do, bow and grovel while his Royal Doucheness prances all over the place with his perfect hair and fancy suit and thank him for it? It's not like he cares about these kids, it's all just a gig to him."

Dustin draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You can't know that. Maybe he does care. Maybe he's-"

Eddie barks a laugh. "Oh, give me a break. All the royals are good at is looking important and spending our tax money. I can fucking do without-"

"Steve? We gotta leave, c'mon."

They both whip around. A fancy black limousine with tinted windows has pulled up in the parking lot behind them. A gruff looking man is holding the back door open and looking at them expectantly.

Dustin sighs and stands.

"Coming, Hop."

"Wait, wait, what?" Eddie babbles as he walks towards the car, shoulders in a sad little hunch. "What's going on? Who's that guy? Why's he calling you-"

And then it clicks.

"Oh fuck," Eddie says.

Dustin … no, Steve … no, Steven - Crown Prince Steven fucking Harrington - gives him a tight smile while the man ushers him into the backseat.

"Thank you for your time, Mr Munson, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll try not to be too much of a douchebag, I promise."

The door clicks shut.

The car glides away.

Eddie buries his face in his palms.

"Jesus fucking Christ. He's the fucking Prince."

Beside him, wheels grate on asphalt as Max brakes.

"Wow," she deadpans. "You're in some deep shit."

Eddie groans.

Tomorrow is gonna be a long-ass fucking day.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie ficlet #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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kremlin · 6 months

Text

An earnest call for your support: Help me determine if there is a gas leak in my house.

for a long time now, I have been reading and hearing about This Guy on the news, and have been reading all the articles and stories about him:

Above: Sam, tenting his weird-ass fucked up fingers like a real Wall Street Guy might do in a movie he saw

Yep, you already know this guy, his name is Sam, I'll be referring to him as Sam, as that is his first name, and not by his initials, which is what I imagine a pod person might do in an attempt to emulate human behaviour. Whatever. You already know him and what he did, I won't waste your time. Listen. Pay attention. This is not a post about this guy or what he did. That shit is boring as fuck. This is a post about a potential gas leak in my house. We'll get to that in just a bit. Remember.

I've read all the articles and all the op-eds and everything. About Sam. Let us explore the entire spectrum of media coverage of Sam and Sam's Big Ass Problem, starting from the bottom, with the worm-food-tier jackasses: What do people like Jim Cramer and Shark Tank Guy have to say about him?

Above: CNN's "Mad Money" Jim Cramer also doing a weird hand gesture while he tells your alcoholic cable-news-addicted uncle to put his money in some dumbass shit

Above: I think this is the Shark Tank guy? I don't remember his name. Could have sworn his suit had dollar signs and not question marks (?)

I'll summarize their conclusions: "Sam is a boy genius who is super duper smart and can move objects with his massive brain due to knowing about Tech, FinDom FinTech, and computer money, specifically Money Coding. Unfortunately Sam committed massive fraud and will get his ass fucked in federal court".

Moving on from the worm-food-tier to the mediocre-tier: The totally nameless basic bitch journalists at the New York Times or Bloomberg. What do these assholes have to say?

Above: Jim Fuckface, associate financial correspondent for Bloomberg. Jim enjoys winding down on a Friday afternoon by sipping a Bud Lite Lime and wearing his baseball cap backwards, which bears the logo of his local professional sports team.

Above: Kate Fuckface, columnist at the New York Times. Kate enjoys spending her time chatting and interacting with her friends on Social Media Platforms like Facebook and Instagram, as well as purchasing items on Etsy

I'll summarize their conclusions: "Displaying the characteristic awkwardness of incredible technical and financial genius, it was clear to me during our interview that Sam's depth of knowledge truly knew no bounds. Unfortunately Sam committed massive fraud and will get his ass fucked in federal court."

Finally moving on to the people that might actually have a clue about what they're talking about. Sam Levine and Michael Lewis:

Above: Matt Levine, author of a comedy email newsletter named Money Stuff that is 95% financial information by weight and somehow still usually funny as fuck.

Above: Michael Lewis, author of a bunch of really good books you haven't read that were made into pretty decent movies you have seen: Moneyball and The Big Short.

I'll summarize their conclusions: "Sam sure is a smart kid and seems to know a whole lot about economics and this digital currency, and I mean a whole lot, and even more about business, accounting, and finance. Bright kid! Unfortunately Sam committed massive fraud and will get his ass fucked in federal court."

A pretty goddamn clear consensus across the board on both counts.

I listened to the interviews the entire spectrum of people listed above conducted with him -- the ones during which they unanimously concluded how smart he is. I listened to many hours of ad-hoc, unscripted Twitter Space calls he participated in, where he fielded questions about his fraud and his business with complete strangers. I listened to them very carefully. And here is my problem! I came to a different conclusion!

Sam is a fucking moron. I am not talking about solely his intellect, or solely his decision-making abilities, or any specific criteria. I am talking about all of them.

There are two possibilities:

(A) I am correct and, somehow, literally everyone else is incorrect, most of whom know vastly more about these topics than I do

(B) There is a fucking gas leak in my house and I have completely lost all cognitive abilities, suddenly and unwittingly, and exist in a cartoon reality inside my skull that would allow me to reach such a wildly different conclusion from the same evidence.

The likelihood of (A) being correct is very nearly 0%. I mean, come on. I am not fucking around when I tell you how troubling this is for me. I wrote earlier that this isn't a post about Sam or his bullshit. This is a post asking for your help in determining whether I have lost my god damn marbles.

I'll give Sam one thing -- he has some nominal ability to bullshit. If he's writing a Tweet, or making a short statement, he can finesse his words that, on some level, mask how much of a dimwit he is. He absolutely can't do that through about six hours of unscripted interviews. Listen to that shit. Listen.

I am going to go check all the joints in the gas lines in my house as well as the ports on my stove and heater. I'll come back and write a follow-up post on outlining exactly why I think homeboy is an idiot. While I do that, please, go listen to the interviews and tell me what you think.

#words

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peterthepark · 2 years

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whatever you do don’t think about eddie munson stuffing your panties into your mouth to muffle any moans because you just had to have him in a janitor’s closet at school

funny u say this bc ive had something similar happen to me…anyways— tw: slight dubcon, gagged by panties, public-ish sex

you’re knocking over bottles of bleach and stepping over wooden mop handles, wedged in a tight and dark confined closet with none other than your stupid horny and impatient boyfriend. limbs and fingers and hair tangle with one another as eddie shoves you against a shelf, giggling into each other’s sweaty skin as the whole thing rattles from impact.

your skirt pools around his wrist as he slithers his hand between your thighs, snickering as you yelp loudly and he has no choice but to silence you with the panties he had pocketed for himself earlier. “hey!”

he tsks.

“shh, shh, you’ve gotta shut up for me, baby. can’t have mr. janitor coming in here and seeing the fucking mess we’re about to make, can’t we? just another old guy we’d traumatize…”

you can only nod eagerly and give him your eyes, the back of your knee hooked lazily over the dip in his arm as he pumps his fat cock in his fist — unable to control the urge to fuck you when you look like this for him. helpless. powerless. completely at his mercy with nothing but desperation fueling your thoughts as he wedges himself between your puffy folds.

“oh, fuck. fuck. fuck. shit, might need those panties for my — for my fucking self. jesus christ, y/n.” eddie melts into the crook of your shoulder, his wet forehead sticking to the cowlicks of hair by your neck. his eyes can only focus on the way you take him — how his ruddy cock disappears into you, your cunt taking every inch of him as deep as possible, sucking him in until his full balls are flush against your asshole, the ring of cum by your entrance squelching with every stroke he takes. “god, i could just — just drain myself into you… jeez, fuckin’ use you like a dumb little pocket pussy and — and fill you with m’cum.”

your muffled moans only spur him on.

“no? you don’t want me to cum inside?” eddie grins devilishly, watching as you grip onto the shelves behind you for dear life, knuckles turning red as your grasp becomes tighter and tighter. “what? don’t want to walk into sixth period with my cum just running down your legs? whatever happened to my pretty show-off? make all the girls wonder who’s been fucking you this good. make you wanna talk about how you take dick in between classes because your pussy just can’t handle being empty. you just never know when to shut up, babe.”

eddie’s throat bobs with every thrust of his hips, the skin around his pelvis flush with a lustful pink. “fuck, baby… moan for me. moan for me. c’mon, spit it out.” his hand yanks the panties out of your mouth, your throat running dry as you ragdoll against his body.

“eds.”

“gonna cum? you gonna let me cum with you?”

you can only gasp, words coming out in broken sentences. “… inside me…”

eddie laughs smugly.

“couldn’t help but cave in, huh? oh, sweet girl…”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanons

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accidentallyatekneecaps · 10 months

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Chronically ill saiki hc

He spends a lot of time at home since hes always fatigued from being in pain constantly and from being around people

He knows people view him as weak and it really bothers him so he trys to make himself come across as an asshole to get people away from him so they don't pity him which backfires and makes people more worried

On days when he has really bad flare up's he will bring a cane to school to help with walking as much as he hates doing so (his mother forces him to bring the cane)

Nendo is the only person who doesn't treat saiki as completely fragile, he is protective but still treat saiki as a person and not an illness

Most of his classmates do view him as a person obviously but they don't know how to go about treating someone whos ill so they end up accidentally babying him

Saiki gets insanely bad headaches due to his powers and even tho he knows it won't actually help him but he puts water on his forehead and just lies there until he needs to reaply it

Saikis joints will randomly dislocate without him wanting them to

Kaidou and aren once were out with saiki and he colasped onto the ground cause his knee dislocated, kaidou freaked out really badly and aren was about to help him since he's dealt with dislocations before in his old gang but before he got a chance to saiki had already put it back in place

I think saiki would have eds

Whenever his flare up's gets bad enough that he can't go to school his mom would bring him some coffee jelly and pain medication, tho saiki knows the meds probably won't help he's really happy his mom thought of him

Saiki is able to get a free pass out of gym class but he refuses to since he still wants to do normal things

Matsuzaki has been really wary of saiki since he passed out, he is a lot more wary of letting him participate in high levels of fitness

Guy's I'm gonna make more hc but just regular ones later **stares at you with autism in eyes**

#i've lost it #kusou saiki #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki kusuo #Tell me if this makes no sense im being reallu honest my brain is not working today #me projecting on saiki time again

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rdng1230 · 6 months

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10 things Easily fixable about That thing that happened: look, killing off Izzy Hands was always gonna hurt like a bitch. And it was a stupid decision, but what really made it worse was how many ways they could have made it better and specifically didn’t, so here’s a list in no particular order of general things that I think would’ve made things suck less, and a couple different story fix proposals. Maybe if I write it all out I can move on a little bit.

I know it was for budgetary reasons but it bothered me Ivan was killed off with one sentence and never mentioned again. I think what would have worked is if Ivan had been a little more fleshed out in s1, and then had him die on screen at the hands of a particularly dickish British naval officer in 2x01. Cut to episode 7 and said dickish Brit is Ricky’s number two. Izzy could have willingly and purposefully drawn the fire of officer asshole, as an acknowledgement of his failure to save Ivan and his past failures to be a proper protector of blackbeards crew, and to save the crew he’s now realized is his family that he is willing to die for. In addition I think that would’ve helped set up the British as being an actual formidable bad guy, because up to this point they were the most looney tunes ass villains on the high seas. Also it would’ve been an interesting symmetry to have the loyal pirate first mate vs. the loyal imperialist scumbag first mate. Think of the banter people.

I hate it when bad events in stories are predicated on having highly intelligent characters be complete idiots. You’re telling me Izzy fucking hands didn’t check noseless wonder for weapons? Fuck off. At least have a fellow soldier toss ricky a musket or something, or just have another soldier shoot him.

I think the main issue here is agency. Yes everyone consented to going into battle that way, but Izzy’s shooting was unceremonious, it wasn’t like he charged somebody or acted as bait, he just got hit by a stray bullet (It’s giving “your shirt” and I fucking hate it Iykyk)

Literally no one attempted medical intervention to help Izzy. Roach isn’t gonna stuff a rag in there? Jim isn’t gonna pass a knife to help rip Izzy’s clothes to visualize the wound? Fang and Frenchie aren’t gonna hold his hand? We’re not even gonna fucking try?!?!

if they had to center Ed’s issues with Izzy’s literal dying words, could we have at least have it be a big character moment for Ed to say “yes the crew is my family, but they’re yours too and I promise I’ll take care of them and make amends” like if DJ is so convinced of this father mentor thing (which seriously what the fuck is he even talking about) what’s more par for the course in this trope then the ole “you’re the man of the house now son you gotta take care of the family” routine

look, I know they got a short episode that they have to keep short. Cut a minute of time out of that breathtakingly awkward fishing sequence from the beginning and give Izzy’s death some breathing room. FFS the fallout from Karl’s and Lucius’s finger’s death had more reaction and more airtime than Izzy Hands (and more effect on the story)

Ricky fucking got away and no one talks about it. It would’ve been great if literally anyone had said “yeah we’re going after that guy” or “we may have won the battle but the British are always out there and one of these days we’ll meet again” just an acknowledgement that one guerilla battle at the republic of pirates was never gonna be the end of it.

this one hits close to home for me. I live on a boat, my mother is a licensed 100 ton ship captain. We’re seafarers goddamit and when we shake off this mortal coil we are buried (or cremated and scattered) at sea. Izzy Hands would not have wanted a land burial and he would’ve wanted to be buried at sea like the distinguished pirate he is, by the crew that became his family.

This segues into the burial at sea thing but maybe don’t bury him without his leg on, like just don’t do that. Don’t put his cravat and mothers ring where anybody could just come along and yank it off, Jesus.

I think frenchie being captain was a weird choice tbh. I love frenchie but he is a jester, a troubadour, a fae walking among us, the worlds handsomest grifter, but this dude does not want to be captain. However, if you had to make him captain I think it would’ve been nice to have had a scene post amputation where Izzy deliriously tells frenchie all these bits of advice about being first mate/captain and how Izzy had failed to be a good one in the past. I just loved the frenchie izzy bond in general and I would’ve loved another extra scene with them. This also would’ve lended itself well to frenchie being the one to outwardly grieve (the box opening up finally) during that minute of breathing room post death that I mentioned was needed earlier, maybe he would’ve reprised la vie en rose, or played a shanty/wake song that everyone could join in on.

I’m sure there are other things too that I’ve forgotten, but I think this covers most of it. Let me also say Izzy’s death was hardly the only issue I had with the finale, but that moment was the most egregiously and easily fixable (or at the very least mitigable) plot point. At the end of the day I think Izzy should’ve just not fucking died, but if they were gonna kill him, there were so many more respectful ways to do it.

#Izzy hands #ofmd s2 spoilers #everyone feel free to add on what I’ve missed #Ofmd

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iamadequate1 · 7 days

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Round 3 of Favorite Stede quotes of 1x4, 1x5, and 1x6!

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmdpolls #stede bonnet

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alexjcrowley · 1 year

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I am sorry but I need to say a couple of things about Brad Bakshi, even though I haven't finished season 3 yet. I am not attacking anyone's characterization, let your headcanons and interpretations thrive, but I want to share my take because sometimes it's like I watched a different show.

I either find takes that are "Brad is a lovey-dovey tsundere" or "Brad is a fuckboy, no attachment, he doesn't do feelings". And man, I do not agree with either. It's something in the middle for me.

First of all, Brad is way more caring than some people give him credit for and I will prove it.

He may be an asshole, but he is completely self-aware of it. Poppy, Ian, even David think they're good people, even whan they do or say very questionable things, Brad knows he is being a bastard. He never hides it, never tries to put up an "holier than thou" act, never tries to make people believe he is a good guy. He doesn't try hiding that is an asshole because deliberately acts like one. He wants to be seen as an asshole. He goes out of his fucking way to prove it.

Turning himself in at the end of season 2? "Oh, but it gave him street credi-" it's pretty convenient he wanted street credit when going to jail could also be beneficial to Jo. Otherwise he could have straight up done inside trading himself way before Jo put herslef in trouble.

The whole animal thing? The fact that he was a mouse? Let's pretend for a moment he actually filled it randomly, he happened to get mouse by mistake. Why do you care so much people do not associate you to a mouse? If you're an unforgiving asshole, it will show even if a random test (that people will probably soon forget about) gave you mouse. Look, let's say I make Donald Trump fill out this test and he comes out as a mouse. I will not stop thinking he is a piece of shit! If the test was so meaningless he filled it out randomly (or so he says), why does he care so much about Jo's opinion on it?

Brad is a performative asshole. He does his job in the less nice way possible, but he never sabotages others just because. He tries with that whole buscuit thing, but that's the most damage he causes to someone and it's thrashing a piece of biscuit and give an evil speech that just hans there. Rest of the show? He always ends up helping out people, if not out of kindness, out of understanding every cog needs to fuction properly for the whole Mythic Quest machine to work. He doesn't go out of his way to damage other people, the worst he does? Mean comments. It's performative. It's all performative.

And you know how I know that? Breaking Brad. The Kate story tells us one thing: Brad is a naturally caring person. Kate was a pig. Not a dog, not a cat, not a turtle, not even a fish, animals we are used to consider as pets. Kate was a pig, an animal considered dirty, ugly, ungraceful (fat, but I will not talk about Brad's ED here), the word "pig" is even used as an insult, plus the pig is famously known as the animal you can kill and not waste a single part of it.

A pig is the perfect animal to impart a lesson of cruelty. You don't feel sorry for a pig. And what does Brad do, with this wretched creature? He names her. Zack doesn't, Zack tells us he was on board with killing the pig, it's Brad who can't do it. Zack doesn't care and Brad cares too much, even when he knew Kate's fate was doomed from the start. Right there, you have a character who, despite being taught to be cruel, can't help but care.

"Oh, but this happened when Brad was a kid, he hardened as he grew up" okay, then how do you explain him begging Zack? The thing is, I do believe Brad wanted to get more out of Mythic Quest and was angry bis brother tried to destroy it, I am not saying "Brad is caring because he doesn't want to lose his job", that's fairly normal. The point is, Zack asks him to beg for it, and Brad does. I have seen characters in more desperate situations refuse to plea, but Brad does it. With less resistence than I would have imagined. Instead of being like "I would never beg you, I will not submit myself to this humiliation, I'll find another job", he grovels. He puts his pride second for a company which he will leave the moment his friend Jo (and if I say colleague instead of friend it's even crazier!) is in danger.

Quickly compare it to David asking a whole company to walk out when he gets fired.

Brad is a performative asshole. He didn't have it in him, he taught himself to act and speak like an asshole, and he learned the part well, but his heart is not in it. If you watch Succession, it's like Kendall, he is not a killer. He can pretend to be killer, but he is not.

So now it seems like I said people who view Brad a repressed lovey-dovey tsundere are right, but just wait, i haven't finished yet.

The thing about teaching yourself to be someone else is that first, some habits stick, second, what doesn't stick, you try harder to make it so.

What I mean is, precisely because Brad is a caring person, he tries very hard not to seem like it. It means that if someone shows him kindness, Brad will refuse to accept it twice as hard, because he is fighting towards a natural instinct to show kindness in return.

Someone finally lends Brad a helping hand? For the exact reason he feels like he wants to take it, he'll turn it down. It's not that he is not touched by that care, it's that he can't afford to show it. That's the whole point of the performative assholery, repressing his natural responses.

I see a lot of someone pays Brad a compliment and he blushes because he doesn't know how to take it, but to me is like no! He doesn't blush! The whole point of fighting his own instincts is that he doesn't show his feelings. It's not that he doesn't know what kindness is so he reacts to it like a caveman would react to a computer, he knows exactly what kindness, care and affection are and he deliberately avoids them.

To me Brad doesn't do feelings because he doesn't want to. Brad fights his natural instincts because they're very strong (so he is lovey-dovey on the inside), but, at the same time, that fight implies a lot of trained resistance to his nature (Brad doesn't want to do feelings).

Being an asshole doesn't come natural to Brad and that's why it's so difficult for him to act kind: because being an asshole is not a random trait of his personality he may be willing to change, it's a carefully crafted mask he doesn't want to get rid of.

It's the difference between explaining something to someone who doesn't understand it and someome who doesn't want to understand it.

And one last thing (because you kidded yourself if you thought this wasn't about Braddavid).

I get that, especially at first, especially to keep that mask on, even if Brad had feelings for David he would take a long time before admitting it and I can see him reluctant to put a label to the relationship, because that would be admitting that he cares.

But let me take you back to Brad begging his brother to leave Mythic Quest alone. The moment he senses David might slip up from his fingers (for whataver reason: David might have found somebody else more emotionally available, is growing tired/sad of Brad's emotional distance, etc.) Brad is Back On. Brad is putting the effort to verbalize his feelings, is putting a name on the relationship and, one day, he'd even be willing to put a ring on it. He is "Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it" coded and you can argue you with the wall.

(Plus, I feel like, exactly like his performative assholery mainly comes from mean comments, he may not be very affectionate when it comes to words of affirmation, but by his behaviour you can tell he cares. He is all about quality time, acts of service and gifts he diguises as not gifts. He tries to be subtle, but he can't help revealing in someway he cares about people).

If Brad could beg his brother, one the people he hates the most in the world, to let him have Mythic Quest for a while more, he could surely find the courage to tell the person he loves that he loves them. "But his pride-" he flushed his pride down the toilet when it became an obstacle to him. He came back to his old company as a janitor, which sadly many people do not considered to be a valuable job, especially since he used to be the Head of Monetization before. He had none of that "oh my God, this job is not well paid or respected enough for my previous standards" crap. He is way less prideful than a lot of people think. Getting where he wants to go, obtaining what he wants to gain is way more important to him than his pride.

Last note, this man in possessive. And I don't necessarily mean in a toxic, abusive way, but you can't deny that he is. He wants to own people, he probably rarely calls in favours from them because he gets high on how long he can own them. The "Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it" comes back into the play, this man is jealous. Again, of course this was about Braddavid, shame on you if you didn't catch it, but I have seen too many "David is too affectionate, Brad is aloof and cool" and I don't buy it.

Brad may not be into PDA, and he may not show it with words, but when he is in a committed relationship he is committed. He may say it's casual, but this is just like Kate. No matter how many times he tells himself he won't get attached to a person and that every relationship ends, at the end of the day, if he truly cares about that person, he won't be able to kill the relationship like it was nothing and go on with his life. I cannot imagine him breaking up with someone because "oh no, I am getting too involved", that's the whole point, he cannot do that, or he'd be a killer, he would have been able to kill Kate and let go of Mythic Quest and let Jo end up in jail. Even if he did break up with this person, it wouldn't come natural to him and he would an absolute wreck, haunted by the memory of this person like he is haunted by the memory of Kate.

It's the duality here! Brad's all about the duality, nature and (self) nurture fighting one against the other. And I have mainly found stuff in which this duality is not shown.

If you made it to this point, thank you for indulging me in overanalysing this character, have a wonderful day.

P.S. I forgot to mention, Brad totally watches those animal predators video for desensitization. Because he couldn't kill Kate so he teaches himself to be insensitive to animal cruelty. The kid who couldn't harm his pig is not watching animal on animal violence for kicks and giggles.

#mythic quest #brad bakshi #david brittlesbee #braddavid #character analysis #meta

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prazinos · 1 year

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Metal in Pink

Summary ~ Eddie has been dating you for nearly 4 months and finally has a chance to see your room. Just to find out you're a metalhead?

WARNINGS ~ None! Purely fluff!

Word Count ~ 1.8k

You and Eddie were what everybody saw as polar opposites.

Eddie was metal chains, leather or denim jackets, band t-shirts galore.

You were pretty pink skirts, ribbons in hair, glittery nail polish.

How were you two attracted to each other?

Nobody in Hawkins knew, not even your friends understood it.

But you loved Eddie and Eddie loved you. Eddie would look at you like you painted the stars, you would look at Eddie like he was the only guy in the world.

And yet, Eddie had never been to your house. Why? Your parents.

Your parents were stuck up, rich, and downright assholes. Eddie hated them, your parents thankfully hadn't wanted to meet Eddie. Always too busy with business.

But having strict stuck up parents also meant you rarely had friends over. Let alone boys. The only boy that was allowed in your house was Steve Harrington.

Oh how your parents swooned, he was everything they could have asked for and more. But you and Steve were just friends, best friends.

But finally, finally Eddie could come over and spend the night. Your parents were in New York trying to land a business deal. Leaving the house to you for an entire week!

Steve, Rob, Nancy and the kids were coming tomorrow but tonight you had invited Eddie over, and he was going to stay the entire week.

It was finally 7pm, Eddie had sweaty palms, what if somebody tells your parents some homeless guy was scoping out their house?

He shook the idea from his thoughts and pulled out the key you had given him at Family Video today.

He stared at the key for what felt like hours, before shoving it in the keyhole and opening your door.

As he walked in, his breath was snatched from his lungs. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling as two staircases on the left and right lead to a large upstairs area. In between the room seemed to go further and expand into a dining room.

Jesus Christ. You were filthy rich. You were so humble? Eddie thought you may have been Steve Harrington rich. But you were clearly much wealthier.

Old money, he remembers you saying once.

Eddie had one time asked what your parents did for a living. You had just shrugged your shoulders saying 'I dunno, some wine business?'

Eddie remembered what you had said, up the stairs, second door on the right.

As he turned the knob to step into your bedroom he could have sworn that he walked into your brothers room. But you didn't mention a brother?

The walls and ceilings were nearly fully covered in band posters, metal band posters.

Dio, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, Metallica, Motley Crue.

He nearly left in hopes of finding you in a different room, before you walked out from your bathroom in silky pink pjs drying your hair with a towel.

'Oh! Ed's you're here!' you said running over to him. You kissed Eddie before stepping back your arms reaching out, gesturing to your room.

'Sweetheart, this is your room?'

'Yeah? Why? Is it ugly or something?' you asked, completely oblivious.

'No no, not at all. It's just-you're so pink and pretty-'

'-well my beds pink'

'-and the fact you have all these metal posters? It's just surprising. Hot but surprising' Eddie said kicking off his boots.

You smiled up at him gesturing to your metallica poster

'You know, when I first saw you, I thought you looked like Kirk Hammett' you giggled

Eddie barked out a laugh before kissing you again.

'Wait how come I haven't seen you listen to any of these guys?' Eddie asks

'Eddie I listen to them all the time. I listen to the mixtape you made me 24/7' you said lightly punching his shoulder.

'Right' Eddie said, still shocked about this entire ordeal. 'How do you get the posters? What about your parents?' he continues.

'You'll see how I get them, and they never come into my room' you said shrugging.

It was only now Eddie realised why you and Steve got along so well. Your guys' parents didn't even care about their kids enough to get to know them. It's like they had you just so they could have their money go somewhere when they died.

'Anyway, let's order pizza, i'm starving' you said exiting your room.

Eddie got changed into just some plaid pyjamas. Admiring your room one more time.

As Eddie walked into your living room he stared at the massive couch against the wall. Massive TV, had to be 45 inches at least.

He sat down on the couch and thought he nearly fell through it. It was so plush. You giggled when you walked into the room, seeing Eddie pushing his hand into the seat of the lounge.

You headed over to the TV, popping in the movie you had picked out for tonight.

'What's this?' Eddie asks, putting an arm around you as you snuggle in next to him.

'Smokey and The Bandit'

'What's it about?' he prods

'Just watch the movie Eddie' you say playfully.

About 20 minutes into the movie the doorbell rang, you got up as Eddie was too invested in the movie.

You opened the door to a guy that honestly looked like a douchebag, clearly only getting a job because his parents forced him to. He looked you up and down smirking slightly.

'Your pizza pretty lady' he said 'charmingly'

'Thanks' you say taking the pizza and garlic bread, giving him the 20 and 10 dollar bill.

'Hey uh, you eating this alone? I could eat it with you, show you a nice time' he said leaning against the door frame.

You furrowed your brows about to say no before you saw Eddie come from your peripheral.

'Nah, she's good man. Doubt you'd last more than thirty seconds anyway' Eddie said taking the pizza and garlic bread from you.

The douchebag looked terrified and then mad, and before he could say much else you slammed the door in his face.

You giggled as you practically ran back into the living room, Eddie going to grab some pepsi and beer from your fridge.

He expected you to already be eating by the time he got back but you were just staring at the open pizza box sitting on the couch.

'I've never eaten in my living room before' you whispered.

Eddie laughed before grabbing a piece and prodding it at your lips that were currently in a pout. Your pout turned into a smile as you took a bite.

Eddie carried you to bed that night, smiling as he stared up at your bedroom ceiling. He couldn't sleep at first. Not liking the different surrounding. Whenever you stayed at the trailer he was fine, he knew he could protect you, but here in this rich neighbourhood he didn't know what rich people were capable of, if anything. But your light snores had him drifting to sleep, arms around you protectively.

You woke up the next morning groaning as the insistent sound of the doorbell filled your ears.

'Dustin' Eddie groaned, shoving his face into the crook of your neck.

'Maybe he's like a crying baby, he'll tire himself out?' you asked.

You felt Eddie's chest vibrate with his laugh, lifting his head only enough so you see the chocolate eyes you love so much.

Your door flung open, followed by a scream that could have quite literally only come from Dustin.

You looked over at him as he kept screaming 'YOU GUYS ARE NAKED, YOU GUYS HAD SEX, EW EW EW!'

You rolled your eyes, before Eddie just yelled 'We didn't having sex! Jesus Christ Dustin'.

You flung the doona cover from your body's revealing that Eddie was merely shirtless and you had your silk pjs on.

Dustin sighed in relief before mentioning the entire gang was in your living room.

'Leftover garlic bread in the fridge!' you yelled out to Dustin as he turned away to go downstairs.

You sat up, looking down at Eddie, admiring his slightly toned torso, tattoos covering him in different places.

'Take a picture, it'll last longer' He said, moving the arm covering his eyes.

You giggled, kissing him before getting up and going downstairs.

Steve handed you a cup of coffee, and you smiled tiredly in gratitude. You sat next to Robin on the island (on, not just one of the stools). And leaned against her as you watched Dustin challenge Mike in an arm wrestle.

Eddie came down not much later and you enjoyed the chaos that had entered your home.

Will asking about Eddie's tattoos, piercings.

You, Steve, and Robin talking about Steve's latest failed date.

'She just had no sense of humour' Steve complained.

'Maybe it's not the girls, maybe it's you' Robin shrugged. King Steve looked at her as if she killed his first born.

'Get a piercing Harrington, girls love piercings' Eddie said as he stuck out his tongue, showing off his own. Steve looked like he was actually considering it and Robin just started going 'ew ew ew'.

'Oh shit, here Y/N, we snagged some more magazines for your room' Steve said, handing you a handful of magazines.

Eddie's head turned to you as you flipped through the magazines, looking at the posters you would be able to take out and stick on your ceiling and walls.

And of course Eddie had to have his input on the posters, to which you rolled your eyes at half the time.

And then Will came over to you, looking all shy.

'What's up bud?' You asked, genuinely concerned.

Will handed you a rolled up A3 size piece of paper. Not saying a word as he looked to the floor, his hands fidgety.

You put down your coffee cup and unrolled the paper, to see that Will had drawn a Corroded Coffin poster, Eddie front and centre on his signature guitar. There were lightening strikes and fire, Eddie's eyes being red instead of brown.

You audibly gasped as Steve Robin and Eddie all just gaped at the drawing.

'Oh Will! It's wonderful! Thank you so much' you said setting the poster aside to give him a hug. Will just smiled bashfully at you.

'Yeah little man, this is some real talent you got. When we make it big you'll be designing all the album covers' Eddie said ruffling Wills hair.

'Really?' Will asked with wide eyes.

''course bud' Eddie said taking a sip of his own coffee.

Eddie thought he knew everything about you, clearly he still has a lot to learn, and boy is he excited.

HI BOZOS

so i got covid, and um it's not fun but whatevs anyway, hoped ya'll like this, it was stuck in my head for like days.

BYE BOZOS !!! <3

#eddie the freak munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things au #eddie x metal!reader #Eddie x pink!reader #polar opposites #the party #corroded coffin

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itsclydebitches · 2 years

Text

Okay, so as the canon recedes from memory and fandom jokes take hold — la de da the world turns — I’ve seen an influx of takes that have steadily moved away from “Izzy’s tragic because this whole debacle is technically his fault (going after Stede’s hostages)” and “Izzy is sympathetic in part because he’s so bad at villain-ing” straight into serious claims of, “Wow, Izzy is just totally incompetent, huh?”

No, no, no, Izzy is terrifyingly competent.

We as a fandom need to remember our meta roots; one of the very first things ever acknowledged in the community: this is a character who has suddenly been thrust into a new genre.

For me, it’s basically the storytelling version of the “Who would win, Goku or Saitama?” question. The answer has nothing to do with power, skill, or competence and everything to do with what would be funny, because Saitama exists in a universe where, unless it’s more entertaining for him to lose, he automatically wins — always, forever, it’s the default state. That doesn’t make Goku, a guy with the power of the gods in his own universe, incompetent by any stretch of the imagination. It just means he’s suddenly been hog-tied by the rules of a new reality.

Izzy is the Goku to Stede’s Saitama.

Izzy scopes out Stede’s marooned crew (because he didn’t remember to have someone steer the boat), buys the hostages he lost, and homoerotically skillfully cuts up his shirt with hard-earned sword skills. Stede wins when Pete throws a rock.

Izzy corners Stede in the duel before he’s even realized they’ve started, hits him across the face, disarms him, and skewers him to the mast by successfully stabbing him. Stede wins because the handle of Izzy’s sword broke and there’s supposedly nothing important on the left side of the body.

Izzy is a complete asshole about chores because in his ‘real world’ a lack of munitions, or barnacles on the ship’s side, leads to death. Or at least lost raids (which they also need to afford basic supplies). Stede exists in the world where you can walk off stab wounds, find an oasis of oranges at your assassin’s church, and row straight to your lost crew without a need for anything like supplies, rest, or a map.

Pre-Stede Izzy successfully intimidates Fang, gets him to obey his commands ( “Fang!” *hiss*), and Fang admits that complaining about the abuse wouldn’t do any good. Post-Stede Fang, Lucius, Pete, Wee John, etc. can’t be intimidated because they know that here, such threats are meaningless.

Izzy manages to wrangle together Calico Jack, Spanish Jackie, and the British — three very different parties with beef against each other and him — all in an effort to get Stede executed. Stede survives because Ed pulls out a trump card that we learned about [checks notes] right now.

Stede beats Izzy again and again and again because Stede is working under the rules of the Romantic Comedy. Is it funny if Stede were to win a duel through absurd means? Yes? Then that’s what happens. Would Izzy winning here interfere with the romance between Ed and Stede? Yes? Then that can’t happen. It’s as simple as that. Unless we circle away from the stages of Epiphany (Stede’s talk with Mary) and Resolution (heading back to Ed for the presumed reunion) and Izzy becomes a more serious Obstacle to their love, everything he attempts is doomed from the get-go. Even if he were to be written as a more serious threat to the romance, the comedy inevitably obliterates any real chance he’d have. Unless OFMD doesn’t just pull lightly from other genres as it has in season one, but takes a hard turn into something new... Izzy is fighting a losing battle. He’s Goku powering up to fucking super saiyan and then being understandably confused when Stede manages to trip over his own feet, starting a Loony Toon-esque domino fall that somehow ends with Izzy K.O.’ed. How did this happen? Fuck if he knows. The logic he’s worked under all his life says it’s impossible and yet... here he lies.

Honestly, I ramble because competence is SUCH an important part of Izzy’s character. Competence is what’s allowed him to survive into his 50′s (unless he’s really 16 lol), help build the Blackbeard legend, and gain the kind of respect that has the crew (initially) jumping at his command. Izzy knows that he’s competent. His entire, prickly personality is built on being competent, particularly when competence is used as a defense mechanism. (No need to grapple with feelings when he can just kill someone.) More importantly, he knows that, under ordinary circumstances, not being competent gets you killed. He’s watching Ed trade in protective leather for lace shirts, fill up on marmalade, turn sword training into a flirting session, admire model ships instead of formulating plans — all these things that should, according to the rules Izzy has spent his entire life living by, get them all killed. We know Stede wouldn’t survive a day in the world of “real” pirates, where Izzy originally hails from. Izzy knows it too. We know Stede survives anyway because this is a rom-com and he’s the lead. But Izzy doesn’t know what genre he’s in; certainly not that the genre has changed — and fuck, if the rules of the universe changed once before, who’s to say they won’t suddenly change again? What if he wakes up one day on a frilly ship, with a useless crew, a domesticated Blackbeard, and the world is a horrifying mess of cruelty and violence again? They’d be screwed. He’s running around bitching about plans, munitions, ship speed, killing pets, formal duels, and yes, avoiding “namby-pamby” soft things because dammit of course those things matter. They always have. Yes everyone needs specific duties because otherwise the ship falls apart and they all die. What do you mean the ship isn’t falling apart while everyone eats marmalade and has gay sex? That’s not possible.

Imagine you were a crazy competent member of society according to current social norms. Maybe you’re highly educated, have a six-figure job, are meeting all the expectations for a family, you’re considered conventionally attractive, you eat well, go to the gym every day, have impressive hobbies, give to charity on the regular, maintain a thriving friend group — in every way that your peers might judge your worth within this specific social circle, you are killing it. Then you wake up one random morning and, as Badminton puts it, you’ve entered Backwards Land. People suddenly laugh at your well-balanced lunch because pff, what do you mean you’re not just eating a bucket of candy like the rest of us? Certain public displays that would have been unthinkable 24 hours ago are suddenly occurring on every street corner. You walk in to a promotion meeting with a detailed report on why your work of the last 30 years is worth recognition. The new hire suggests they have a face-paint party instead of running the company and your boss is like, “Well damn if that isn’t the best suggestion anyone’s ever given me. You’re promoted!”

What?

Izzy is fascinating in part because he’s a HYPER-COMPETENT individual who took to his toxic, violent, homophobic, highly repressed society like a duck to water, only to find one day that the rules of the universe had changed (for the better) but whoops, nothing he’s good at suddenly has a foothold anymore. You’re an expert at running a ship? Ships are just a backdrop to romance and it doesn’t matter if there’s, you know, ammunition, or whatever. Supplies — like oranges — only matter if they’re forwarding relationships. You’re an expert swordsman? Yeah, good luck winning a rigged fight where literally anything goes provided it’s funny enough (and you, as a tightly-strung rule follower, are not funny). Your entire identity is built around intimidating and executing people? The queer polycule thinks your threats are hilarious and if you strand people on a desert island their lighthouse captain will just row to them in a single scene; the guy tossed overboard will just climb into the walls and sustain himself on paper or something. You’re Alice in Wonderland except you don’t remember falling down the hole. The fact that Lucius’ cut off finger is used for a moment of (wonderfully gross) humor and he’s totally fine when he wakes up, whereas Izzy’s severed toe is more straightforwardly horrific and requires a cane, just highlight that they’re living in different genres. For Lucius, a severed finger is a moment of comedy (Dutch fuckery) and romance (Pete whittling him a replacement). For Izzy, a severed toe is a moment of devotion to a toxic relationship (eating it on Blackbeard’s command) and a #SeriousInjury that he literally can’t walk off. Izzy’s got the worst of both worlds at the moment: governed by his original, gritty genre and unable to circumvent or reap the rewards of the rom-com.

Which only leaves the question of whether Izzy will remain the tragic figure — but still very humorous for the viewer — who is either killed or permanently exiled due to his inability to adapt? Or will he grudgingly (oh so grudgingly) turn himself over to this new set of rules? I’m personally hoping for the latter BUT with moments here and there where the gritty drama bleeds into the rom-com; moments where things suddenly do become legitimately perilous and Izzy’s honed skills once again become necessary for survival. Like Ed who moves from the poetry-loving Edward into the murderous Kraken, Izzy has the potential to move between and/or straddle genres in some pretty entertaining ways.

#OFMD #Our Flag Means Death #Izzy Hands

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