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luveline · 2 years

Note

baby blurb of spending the night at eddie’s house 🤍

this request was lovely! this was more like the run up but yes it was so fun thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader | 1k words

The first time you stay the night at Eddie's house you almost die. You stand at the bottom of the porch with your backpack on one shoulder and you're so nervous you can feel your heart in your mouth.

"Don't be a loser," you mutter to yourself. You throw your hands out and make fists that don't make you feel any better. "Don't be a loser."

You're almost pleading with yourself. You'd gotten here at least five minutes ago. Every minute longer spent waiting was another minute of loserdom.

The door opens and you flinch back, and there your boyfriend stands in his pajamas and converse, car keys swinging in his fingers.

He smiles as soon as he realises it's you. "Hey! Hey, babe, I was coming to look for you. Thought you'd been murdered."

"Jesus, Eddie," you say, ascending the steps. You stop on the last, looking up as he looks down. There's a secret smile shared between you then. A smile he only gives to you and you only give to him.

"Was the walk particularly arduous?" he asks lightly.

"Particularly," you say agreeably.

He kisses your cheek and catches your hand with little care, tugging you back into his house quickly.

"It's too cold for you to keep walking over," he says as he closes the door. He tosses his keys in the general direction of a keepsakes bowl and drags you past the living room.

You giggle as you go. "It wasn't that bad."

"Whatever, I'll come and get you anyways. I think I actually had, like, a conniption. Kept thinking you'd been Freddy Kreuger'd."

"That guy with the knife hands?"

"Yeah."

"He was a total perv."

"He was also a murderer," Eddie says, pushing you gently towards his unmade bed, the space he'd left behind still warm. "I'd say that was the worse part of his character."

"That's 'cos you're a guy."

Eddie sits right at the end of the bed and rubs his hand over his cheek like he's thinking before he collapses into the sheets, his arm thrown towards you. You reach over and take his hand, to his evident delight. His eyes close.

"What are we gonna do all night?" he asks.

You laugh, startled, because you've been sort of worried he might want to have sex and you're not sure you're ready, but his words are far from salacious. He sounds genuinely puzzled.

"Well, what do you want to do?" you ask.

"I don't know. I've never had a girl stay the night before."

"Really?"

"Nope. You're my first," he says, grinning, and there's a put on lightness to it that lets you know he's aware of the double entendre.

You smile and hide your nerves well. Just because he made a sex joke doesn't mean he wants to actually mess around. You've hardly gone very far. You're only here because he'd called you and said he missed you, which was… an entire other thing. Fondness for him so fierce that you'd barely thought twice when you said, "Well, I could come over."

He's so pretty, you think, looking over the white valley of sheets to his pale face. He's pretty, and he misses me when I'm not around, treats me like dynamite when I am. Maybe I shouldn't be so worried about everything.

You've been in his room before. Now, in the dark, it's different. It feels smaller.

"I really did miss you," he says, like he can read your mind. You fail to suppress a grin as he pulls your hand to his mouth and leaves it there. His kiss is almost absent-minded, a soft press of his lips and then more silence.

"I missed you too," you say, because you do, all the time.

You don't know if it's what you're supposed to do but you curl up into a ball next to him. Your smile feels almost sticky with fondness, like you have to peel your lips apart to talk. "I really missed you. I'm glad you missed me enough to call me."

"I'm glad you missed me enough to come. I really am gonna come and get you, next time."

You sniff. "Sure, s'long as you don't smoke first."

He grins. "Deal. No high driving."

"Thank you."

He kisses your knuckles again though with more purpose this time and then drops your hand to his chest, face to the ceiling.

You look up too.

"I'm trying to think of what we're gonna eat."

"What do you have?"

He chuckles and it's a burst of sound. "Who knows. Fucking… condiments?"

"Condiments," you repeat, throwing your free hand to your forehead with a dramatic, dreamy sigh. You drop the act quickly, which only furthers his smile.

"Fuck it. We'll get pizza or something."

"We could watch A Special from the Spectrum," you suggest.

Eddie sits up and let's go of your hand, but only so he can lean over you, hands braced either side of your waist. "Now why would you wanna watch that? You don't like Dio."

"I don't not like Dio. Just don't see why you'd leave Sabbath to-"

Eddie slaps his hand over your mouth. "Sacrilege."

"I didn't even say anything," you protest, muffled by his fingers.

"I could feel it coming."

You kiss his palm and he gets a warm look about him, his eyelashes pinched in the corners as he squints with a smile. He moves his hand to your cheek, the damp stripe of your kiss sliding over hot skin.

You're expecting a messy, slow kiss. It's a surprise when he starts, tiny short kisses like seeds over your features, your cheeks and your chin and your bottom lip. They flower, tingling warmth under your skin as he pulls back.

"You're seriously something. You look…" he dots another kiss close to the corner of your eye. "Really pretty."

"Eddie," you murmur.

He pulls back and you grin at each other.

"Wait until you see me in my pajamas," you joke.

He gets impossibly brighter. "I can't wait. Seriously."

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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bluebeary-jay · 6 months

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CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age, for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together.

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

#bluebeary-jay's 1k party #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #peepaw needs some love and we need a volunteer #joel miller x you #the last of us #i love writing joel so shy and fumbling over his words #he might be an unstoppable force and ready to kill people without batting an eye but he WILL blush while talking to a pretty girl

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darthstitch · 2 years

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Professor Mysterious and Professor Wet Cat

This is my take on that Dreamling post making the rounds about Hob and Dream being uni professors and that Hob is surprisingly NOT the prof who overshares and Dream is the one who inadvertently does.

Buckle up, kids, let's have some fun with this. Also, gentle reminder: NOBODY TELL NEIL. SHHHH!

This time around, Hob's using his proper name, Robert Gadling, because it's been a while since he's trotted that one out and he kinda likes the seeming rightness that the once upon a time near-illiterate medieval peasant that he'd been was now teaching at a rather prestigious university. However, he's not prone to sharing much about his personal life to his students. He's still warm and friendly, but he's cautious about letting Certain Things slip.

Hilariously, the things that do slip end up making him everyone's favorite university cryptid. Sometimes Hob slips into Middle English when he's stressed or emotional. Sometimes he might use odd old-fashioned sounding oaths like "God's wounds," "Holy Jesu," and "Mother Mary's teats" (this last one sends everyone into spasms of laughter).

The literature department ADORES him because they can always drag Professor Gadling off to read Chaucer in its original form or even medieval French, his pronunciation perfect and dead on. Shakespeare is the only thing he'll flat out refuse to read because in any universe this Fuzzy Blue Alien's gonna write, his hatred of the Bard is the stuff of legend.

The students universally agree that Professor G is basically British Indiana Jones, because he's also known to have lethal expertise in medieval weapons. There's been more than a few fantasies inspired during the booked-solid outdoor demonstrations where he works in tandem with the other medieval history professors to show everyone how medieval weapons worked. Apparently, his favorite weapons are the longbow, the bastard sword and daggers.

Obviously, this all leads to Professor Gadling being the campus crush and his relationship status is a matter of hot speculation even if he's made it perfectly clear he was not about to violate his ethical standards or position as a teacher. It still doesn't stop the fevered fantasies of more than a few grad students, though. But that's all they're gonna get.

And then, there's the new literature teacher, Professor T. Murphy.

To everyone's disappointment, Professor Murphy is only going to be at the university for a limited series of lectures. Word of mouth spread fast, and his classes were now booked solid and he was going to be asked to return, once his apparently very busy schedule is cleared.

7. Of course, he's an instant campus crush, with the "Goth angel" looks, the Edward Cullen jokes are definitely flying and there's more than a few students melting after they heard him speak. "That Voice" is always referred to in capital letters and it's well deserved.

8. "Campus crush" turns to "Official Precious Blorbo" once the students all discover that behind the whole regal and imperious Goth Prince vibe that he gave off, was an adorkable darling wet cat who was just completely gone on "my beloved." If he's discussing a love sonnet or poem, there's definitely going to be a reference to "my beloved" or "my dearest" or "my love." It's never sickeningly cloying and the sweet tiny little smile that takes over his normally serious face is like sunshine. The kilig feels are real.

9. He's also forever worrying that he's not enough for "my dearest" as he's rather painfully aware "of my lack in human graces" - which everyone translates to "OMG HELP I HAVE THE SOCIAL SKILLS OF A SCRUNKLY WET CAT." He frets that he's somehow failing his beloved, who is infinitely sweet and thoughtful and caring and that Professor Murphy is the selfish one, really, who doesn't deserve the man.

10. The students, of course, immediately ADOPT him. Tesco ice cream runs are done, YouTube videos on cooking and invites to kitchens are extended so Professor Murphy could practice making something that is "not a catastrophic culinary disaster unfit for human consumption." There was a session on the language of flowers, which everyone had enjoyed. For a while, flowers with significant meanings were presented to sweethearts and lovers all over the uni. There's an unforgettable after-class meeting in which the craft-inclined students teach Professor Murphy how to knit and crochet and he was really rather proud of the scarf he had created.

11. Professor Murphy's raven had been rather entertained playing with the yarn scraps. The students learn that the raven's name is Matthew.

12. And then, dashing, mysterious Professor Gadling finally peeks into Professor Murphy's class.

"The things I do for you, myne owne hertis rote. Bloody Shaxberd."

"But you do read him so very well, my love." And there it was, that tiny, soft, sweet smile, now aimed in Professor Gadling's direction.

Professor Gadling sighs and puts a hand over his chest. There's a very familiar scarf draped over his neck. "God's wounds, dove, warn your poor, long-suffering husband before you do these things."

"What 'things,' dearest?"

Professor Gadling waves his arms helplessly. The scarf slips a little, offering a tantalizing view of a purplish mark on his throat. "That thing!" He looks appealingly at the students, who are now all stifling their delighted giggles. "Look at him! My heart can only take so much!"

And that was how everyone found out that Professors Gadling and Murphy were actually happily married.

Incidentally, the Shakespeare reading, in which both professors took part, was a true kilig apocalypse. Instant campus legend.

#dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #professor dream #professor gadling #i crack what i want #history and literature class cryptids #pffthahahaha #shhh nobody tell neil

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loveinhawkins · 11 months

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Thinking again about theater kid Dustin so naturally I had to come to you 💙 Specifically I’m thinking about Dustin auditioning for a community theater production of Jesus Christ Superstar with an eccentric director who convinces Eddie to audition for Judas. He knows his reputation and thinks his notoriety will add an extra meta layer to the role (and get some butts in the seats he’s gotta keep the lights on somehow). Eddie is reluctant to put himself in the spotlight but ultimately does cause Dustin is excited about it. Also he’s really good? He plays it completely sincerely which no one is expecting, really leans into the interpretation that Judas was in love with Jesus and amps up the tragedy. (Afterwards Steve also asks him if that kiss with Jesus is in the script or…?)

i love this so much, thank you for sharing with me! ❤️ theatre kid Dustin is just so incredibly precious & i just love the thought of him having so much fun with it in his future. like i see him as such a little social butterfly, i think everyone in the theatre group would adore him (i’m always so upset when his peers make fun of him at the snow ball, no, that’s my boy!!!)

and oh my god Jesus Christ superstar yes!!! yeah i can see Eddie being so hesitant about it, like the thought of how certain factions of hawkins might still view him makes him nauseous.

but the director—who maybe knows through close-knit community theatre circles that a very young Eddie once played Action in West Side Story (i love your story so much ❤️)—has one last parting shot which convinces him.

“So you never want to have fun ever again?”

… Huh, Eddie thinks.

he still asks for Dustin’s approval, all too concerned with the thought that this is Dustin’s thing and maybe he’s overstepping or something, or—

“Holy shit, that’s some seriously impressive over-thinking,” Dustin says. “You’re my friend, asshole.”

And maybe he says it with a tone, but he means I wanna hang out more with you not less!

so Eddie takes the role and of course he’s brilliant—okay everyone’s got opinions on the auto tune used in Tim Minchin’s rendition but dear god the depths in his eyes, the acting. also maybe the director does a present day take like that version did & Eddie’s jokingly like “I could wear the hellfire tshirt” & the director’s eyes light up & Eddie quickly goes, “No. That was a joke, it wouldn’t even make sense.”—and maybe there’s something empowering in playing this figure when people once said his name and the Devil’s in the same breath.

Maybe, maybe.

and oh we all know who Eddie is thinking about when he’s singing:

I don't know how to love him I don't know why he moves me He's a man, he's just a man He's not a king, he's just the same As anyone I know He scares me so

and

Does he love, does he love me too? Does he care for me?

And oh on a lighthearted note, Steve asking if the kiss is in the script has me in hysterics, especially if this is pre-them getting together.

just the thought of Steve staring grumpily any time there’s a scene with Jesus & Judas—the guy who plays Jesus is maybe like a couple years older than Eddie, not originally from Hawkins perhaps so he’s kinda not fully aware of Eddie’s history & sure, he’s nice, but he’s just not on Eddie’s radar at all.

So when Steve asks if the kiss was in the script (not that he cares! At all! He doesn’t care! Look at how much he doesn’t care!), Eddie stares at him for a long moment and says, “Steve. Did you think I improvved the Bible?”

Dustin, who is also here—currently doing English homework up on a barstool in Steve’s kitchen while Eddie & Steve lounge on the couch—sighs very loudly and says, “How the fuck am I supposed to know what role dialogue plays in Much Ado About Nothing?”

Eddie waves a hand distractedly at him. “Just make it up.”

“I can’t just because my way through Shakespeare,” Dustin says, adds in a huffy undertone, “this isn’t one of your campaigns.”

Eddie mimes being stabbed in the heart. “Oh, betrayal!”

“So it was in the script?” Steve says.

“Oh for—yes, Steve, it was,” Eddie says. “It’s called acting. Also, it was on the cheek.”

“So?”

“So—ugh, just—” Eddie tugs on Steve’s wrist impulsively, while another part of his brain is screaming in vain for him to stop. “Come here.”

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m just showing you how fucking little it—”

I’m never finishing this essay, Dustin thinks. My home life is distracting and chaotic.

And Eddie kisses Steve very very chastely on the cheek, just to show it was nothing, that’s all, but Steve can feel Eddie’s breath on his skin, the warmth of his lips, and Eddie doesn’t really think it through until he does it and then oh shit, his heart is pounding—

“Oh, yup cool,” Steve says. “That’s—yeah, wow, that’s it? Huh. I need some air.”

“From your own house?” Dustin says, to the front door already slamming shut.

And Eddie’s eyes are wide and shiny, like, did I fuck up, and it takes all of Dustin’s self control to not roll his eyes and slam his face into his book.

Then he softens a bit, remembers looking out into the audience and seeing Steve silently crying while Eddie sang You have murdered me.

“You’re so dumb,” Dustin tells Eddie as gently as he can. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Uh.” Eddie blinks. “Did I—should I…?”

Dustin sighs wearily, slings his backpack over his shoulder. And he has a parting shot of his own:

“I’m not waiting through another production for you two to get your shit together.”

#i hope this repays even a little bit the joy i had thinking about this! ❤️#dustin henderson headcanons #eddie munson headcanons #steddie headcanon #steddie hcs #henderfam #steddie #eddie and dustin #steve and dustin #steddie ficlet #dustin henderson #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #JCS AU

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mayiwritesomething · 2 months

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Love is An Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 1)

You’re a sucessful and methodic award winner music composer and producer, that after working on a few movies got invited to coordinate the sound department on a TV series, by your busy and controlled schedule, it will be just another project on your portifolio… but life sometimes has a funny way to surprise you.

Wordcount: 1,6k

A/N: guys just be nice to me since this is my first fic haha, that i decided to write just for fun. I apologize if there is any mistakes since english is not my first language. In this first chapter i tried to give a little bit of our main caracter background (she may seem a little stupid at first, but she’s got a big heart and is just scared of showing too much affection). And since this is a real person celebrity fic i tried just to write a fun story. Hope you like it :)

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Dinner

"Goodbye, boss! Could you please brief me on how the meeting will unfold?" Jennifer says with a smile.

"Stop calling me that! Jesus!" you respond with a less than welcoming expression, that might scare those unaware of your kind nature.

Jennifer continues to laugh, saying, "Oh, come on! I'm just getting into the spirit. I've already gathered the entire team for the project and sent you the email with the details. I heard this guy Craig is as methodical as you."

She takes another sip of a drink, the contents of which are unclear due to the image quality, but you assume it's some kind of energy-boosting juice. "I also discovered he's a fan of your work, so you're all set! The brainstorming session you organized for the plot is fantastic", she adds, concluding with a laugh, "Bye, good luck, bossy!".

“Bye Jenny!”

Jennifer, has been your assistant of nearly a decade and a friend for much longer, understood your aversion to titles. Despite this, for the next ten months at least, you were going to assume the role of a boss. Coordinating an entire sound team was no easy feat; having experience on both sides, you were well aware of the challenges ahead. However, in this case, you were not just a regular composer working on a typical project. You were a fan adapting one of your favorite games for the big screen, something that filled you with anxiety.

As Jenny had predicted, the meeting was a success. Time seemed to fly by as you delved into your passion for music and its transformative impact on a serie. This phase of your career gave you the freedom to choose your collaborators, and Craig was someone you wanted work with for some time. Over the course of a three-hour Zoom call, you found that you connected well, not only with Craig but also with the rest of the team. Together, you had a productive briefing, establishing the desired atmosphere that would align with both the essence of the game and the script you held in your hands.

As life began to regain its rhythm post-lockdown, you still felt a hint of anxiety about going out and mingling with more than four people. However, this evening called for celebration with your friends, primarily because Jenny wouldn't let you be, insisting that you only pretended to enjoy being by yourself. She believed you needed "some drinks, good food, laughter, tears, and maybe getting laid."

Following your last breakup, you had made a promise to yourself to not date anyone for a year, a vow you upheld not just for one year but for the following one as well. Suddenly, all the men and women you encountered seemed uninteresting, but you still had some fun in one night standings, which by the way made some of the people you met quite angry, as you would just leave without saying anything.

As soon as you arrived at the bistro booked by Jenny for you and the girls, Maria said out loud, “Here comes THE GOAT!!”

'”Shhhhh, Maria! This is a private place,' you whispered, glancing over your shoulder, although people were imerged in their own worlds and conversations, allowing you and your friends to enjoy a pleasant girl night.

“Come on, girl, you're the award winner here, not to mention THE SOUND COORDINATOR! Aren't you thrilled?” Jenny attempted to lighten the mood.

“Of all the episodes, by the way” Amy chimed in.

“Yes, girls, of course, I'm happy”, you replied with a smile. “I am a bit nervous and overwhelmed. It's going to be a year-long project, surrounded by a considerable number of people, that might include some famous individuals whose crazy egos I definitely don't enjoy working with.'

“But hey, you’re not a jane doe honey” Jenny added.

You went on to explain the challenges of dealing with ego driven actors. 'I don't even know what the Game of Thrones guy is like in real life, we only spoke via Zoom. He's an actor; he could portray niceness on screen and be difficult in real life. We all know that's a possibility.'

Jenny and Maria appeared surprised or apprehensive you couldn’t understand the reason, so you kept going, 'He's an actor; he can pretend to be nice and be a dick off-screen; we all know this can happen.'

“Girl… just…” Amy interjected, her expression showing concern.

'What?!” You interrupted her “ Amy, I'm not lying... I'll have to talk to him a lot,' you retorted, visibly frustrated by the thought.

"Stop!”, she continued.

“Why?” Judging by the expression on the girls' faces, you knew you had messed something up. Were the HBO executives present? Where anyone that shouldn’t be there listening to you? Damn it.

Resignation.

This time, Jenny spoke in a hushed tone, “By the 'Game of Thrones' guy, you mean the one sitting right behind you?” She attempted to maintain calm so you would’t crack. She said something else, but you were so flustered that you couldn't make out her words or anyone else's. Should you turn around to face the person behind you? Should you chuckle and say you were joking? Should you just...

“Well, I assure you I'm not a dick, even if someone who doesn't know me may think so,” a male voice behind you interjected. Damn the Game of Thrones guy.

You turned to face him, and he continued, “Hi, pleased to meet you in person, award winner sound coordinator. Well… I'm the Game of Thrones guy, or Pedro, whichever you prefer.” His words made you reflect on how snob you must have sounded. He had heard everything. You felt awful.

“Oh, well, pleased to meet you in person too, Pedro! I didn’t…” You struggled to form a coherent sentence in your head. Damn, he smelled good. “My name is... um… I am…” Nothing seemed to make sense in your mind anymore. Why say your name when you had spoken to him before?

“Never mind,” he said, smiling. “I know your name and who you are. We met before. By the way, I'm a huge fan of your work.” He knew how to be cirurgical yet polite, which made you chuckle, even though you just wanted to vanish.

Pedro was undeniably good-looking, not exactly your cup of tea, but you couldn't deny his charm. The way he responded to your stupid remarks made him seem more intriguing. You felt a bit woozy. What had you gotten yourself into?

“Pedro, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m sorry,” you apologized, attempting to clarify. “I'm terrible with names.” You were being honest. Now he appeared more serious, and your voice began to tremble. “I mean... I'm only making things worse, aren't I?”

“A little bit,” he chuckled softly, sounding genuine. Glancing over his shoulder, you noticed a beautiful brunette lady at the other end of the table. You waved, receiving a forced smile in return. Back to Pedro. Stop behaving like a teenager. Pull yourself together. Jenny said something, but you didn't catch it. Keep. It. Together.

"I guess I'm the one who came off as a jerk... I know I sounded pretentious, and I apologize," you began, finding your voice. "I've had some really bad experiences with certain actors and their egos, so I was worried you might be like them… so i…" All those therapy sessions seemed to be paying off; he was listening to you, paying attention not only to your words but also to your uncomfortable gestures. You pushed past the discomfort and continued, "I'm truly sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." Your voice dropped to almost a whisper in the last sentence.

"So you might want to think twice before mentioning someone’s name in a private restaurant in Los Angeles, don't you think?" He spoke with a hint of irony, almost provocatively. You took the bait.

"Not tha-" You were about to respond when Jenny interjected, "Hey! I believe Pedro here has a date to attend to, right buddy?" He nodded smiling, and Maria chimed in, "And you, girl, promised us a night out and turned it into a work-related gathering." Those girls were true diplomats.

"I don’t want to take up any more of your time, Pedro," you said, maintaining a serious expression as you locked eyes with his dark gaze, your usual impenetrable poker face firmly in place.

"Never mind," he replied. "By the way-"

"Hey babe, do you want to call your friends to join us?" the attractive lady accompanying him interjected, her tone dripping with irony.

"It won't be necessary," Maria retorted, clearly annoyed. She was hungry, and anyone who knew her understood how irritable she could get when hunger struck. You KNEW she was on the verge of losing her cool.

"I'm sorry for this disruption; we didn't mean to interrupt your date, guys."

"Sorry... you do seem to like that word, don't you?" The pretty brunette girl knew how to be ironical.

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up," you responded, laughing almost manically and subtly holding Maria back, knowing she was on the brink of saying something that could have gotten all four of you kicked out of the restaurant. Jenny steered you to another table far away from them, while Amy engaged the waiter in conversation. Your hands felt as cold as ice.

"See you soon, sound coordinator... oops, AWARD-winning sound coordinator," he said with a chuckle as he returned to his table. "Hopefully, we can prove to each other that we're nice people."

"I'm looking forward to it... Game of Thrones guy." You waved and smiled more than necessary as you both returned to your respective dinner conversations.

You replayed this encounter in your mind all the way home. How could he not be angry with you? There were still a few months until filming begins, and yet you felt an unfamiliar sense of anxiety creeping in. Opening your door, you continued to mull over his ironic parting words: "Hopefully, we can prove to each other that we're nice people," you repeated with a grin.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to wait and see.” You said.

Wait. And. See.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedrohub #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x female reader

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etoilesombre · 6 months

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Hey, do you guys want to hear a story? Let me tell you about the romance between Lancelot and Guinevere, as recounted in Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur.

So, I thought I knew the basics. I grew up reading modern versions of Arthurian legend that focused on other aspects, but had a general knowledge of the Arthur-Guinever-Lancelot love triangle. It didn't show up too much, but I assumed it was subtext in some other versions. What I picked up was that it was sort of pure, almost an ot3, and not the cause of a lot of problems.

My friends. In this version it is NOT SUBTEXT, it DEFINITELY CAUSED PROBLEMS, and it is WILD. It is a true will-they-won't-they drama fest soap opera romance, and I need to share. So please, come on this journey with me.

[I’m looking at you, Black Sails fandom people. I need you to know that Flint canonically would have read this. He would almost certainly have also grown up hearing these stories. I’m not saying he’s Lancelot coded, but I am saying it's interesting that he would have been aware that was something it was possible to be.]

A couple notes, before we dive in. I am very much just summarizing what happened in the book. The thing is, the book is a million pages long and also in Middle English, and this is just one of many plots, which I think is why it's not more widely known. I will show some excerpts so you can get a feel for the text, but you don’t need to read them to understand the story. I'm referring to a version that is as close to the manuscript as I can find, though with spelling regularized. For real fun, see what the original looked like. Malory purports to be translating part of the French Vulgate cycle, which likely is where the character of Lancelot originates, but in fact he is doing much more than translating, and compiles other stories as well. Point being, when he says “so the French book sayeth” etc, that is the “book” to which he is referring. Because of my lack of knowledge about the language and cultural context, this lecture series from Mythgard Academy was absolutely invaluable to my understanding. I cannot recommend it highly enough. Inevitably, some of the opinions of the prof are reflected here. I do not have it in me to compare the scholarship of various medievalists right now, I just want to tell you about this DRAMA.

Let’s start with a prophecy. When Arthur decides he wishes to marry Guinevere, Merlin advises him to take someone else, because if he takes her, she will betray him with Lancelot and it will destroy his kingdom. All of this is foretold, not only to us, but to Arthur himself. Of course he takes her anyway, and all is doomed from the start.

As we begin the main arc of this story (several books after the prophecy), Lancelot is widely acknowledged to be the best and most renowned knight of Arthur’s court. He is plainly and hopelessly in love with Guinevere, and she loves him in return. Arthur doesn’t have a problem with this - who wouldn’t love Guinevere? This sort of love is socially acceptable, so long as they do not sleep together, which would be treason. Arthur in fact seems to support their love, because it means that Lancelot will be Guinevere’s champion should she need one. This is a role Arthur himself legally cannot fill because he is the king, and so would have to be the judge. Lancelot is indeed a good champion for her, and fights for her when she is wrongly accused of murder.

Lancelot is deeply chivalrous, in a way that seems sincere. This is a great place for a first excerpt, a conversation with a Random Damsel Lancelot has been helping:

‘Now, damosel,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘will ye any more service of me?’ ‘Nay, sir,’ she said, ‘at this time, but almighty Jesu preserve you wheresoever ye ride or go, for the most courteous knight thou art and meekest unto all ladies and gentlewomen that now liveth. But one thing, sir knight, me thinks ye lack, ye that are a knight wifeless, that ye will not love some maiden or gentlewoman. For I could never hear say that ever ye loved any of no manner of degree, and that is great pity. But it is noised that ye love Queen Guenivere, and that she hath ordained by enchantment that ye shall never love no other but her, nor no other damosel nor lady shall rejoice you; wherefore there be many in this land of high estate and low that make great sorrow.’ ‘Fair damosel,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘I may not warn* people to speak of me what it pleaseth them; but for to be a wedded man, I think it not; for then I must couch with her, and leave arms and tournaments, battles and adventures. And as for to say to take my pleasance with paramours, that will I refuse, in principal for dread of God. For knights that be adventurous should not be adulterers nor lecherous, for then they be not happy nor fortunate unto the wars; for either they shall be overcome with a simpler knight than they be themselves, or else they shall slay by unhap and their cursedness better men than they be themselves. And so who that useth paramours shall be unhappy, and all thing unhappy that is about them.’

So after doing his Knightly Deeds for this damsel, Lancelot asks if she needs anything else. She says no, but you are lacking one thing, which is the love of a woman. It is rumored that is because Guinevere has through sorcery made you love only her, and that causes all of the women great sorrow. In reply Lancelot makes this speech about how he cannot have a wife or paramour and be a good knight, but everyone thinks it is at least in part because his love is reserved for Guinevere.

Now, throughout the book his chastity DOES notably cause all of the women great sorrow. Everyone wants to sleep with Lancelot. Literally he is kidnapped by the four most beautiful queens other than Guinevere, and they say he has to choose one of them as a lover (not even a wife, a lover) or else die. He says he would rather die, though in the end he escapes. This is just an example, truly it is a recurring problem for him. He is, at one point, tricked into sleeping with a woman with whom he conceives his son Galahad (as was prophesied, it's a long story and the romance is only part of it. It is worth mentioning that something similar happens to Arthur, which is how Mordred is sired.) When Guinevere learns that Lancelot has been with someone else, she is angry and banishes him from the court. They still love each other and eventually reconcile.

So, Lancelot goes on the quest for the holy grail. But he fails, specifically because while he is outwardly dedicated to God, in his private heart he is still dedicated to Guinevere. And so he makes a vow to renounce his love for her, acknowledging that it is beyond measure (beyond what is right, even if they have not technically done anything wrong.) However when he returns to Camelot, he cannot keep this vow, as we see.

Then, as the book saith, Sir Lancelot began to resort unto Queen Guenivere again, and forgot the promise and the perfection that he made in the quest. For, as the book saith, had not Sir Lancelot been in his privy thoughts and in his mind so set inwardly to the Queen as he was in seeming outward to God, there had no knight passed him in the quest of the Sangrail, but ever his thoughts were privily on the Queen. And so they loved together more hotter than they did beforehand, and had many such privy draughts together that many in the court spoke of it, and in especial Sir Agravain, Sir Gawain’s brother, for he was ever open-mouthed. So it befell that Sir Lancelot had many resorts of ladies and damosels that daily resorted unto him to be their champion: in all such matters of right Sir Lancelot applied him daily to do for the pleasure of Our Lord Jesu Christ. And ever as much as he might he withdrew him from the company of Queen Guenivere for to eschew the slander and noise, wherefore the Queen waxed wroth with Sir Lancelot.

He and Guinevere start spending a lot of time alone together, and so there are rumors circulating about them in court. In order to put a stop to the rumors, Lancelot starts paying other women attention and doing more good knightly deeds for them. Guinevere is terribly jealous, but he tells her it's for their own good, and also tells her about the vow he made, and his concern that their love is beyond what is appropriate. She is devastated, and weeping banishes him from the court (again).

Lancelot then rides in a tournament, disguised. (Why? Because this is simply a thing knights do.) To make it an effective disguise he takes the token of a woman, the sleeve of the fair maid of Astolat to wear on his helm. When she discovers that he was only using it for the disguise, and he does not indeed love her, she is so heartbroken that she says if he will not marry her or be her lover, she will die. He refuses, on the grounds that love must not be constrained and should arise from the heart, and offers her a thousand pounds a year instead if she marries anyone else. Properly insulted by this, she does indeed die. She has her body sent in a boat to Camelot, with a letter in her hand, saying that she died of her love for him, that he would not return.

Seeing this, Guinevere reconciles with Lancelot, presumably reassured by the fact that he would let this very beautiful much younger woman die of her love rather than being with her. She insists that from now on he will not fight in disguise, and will openly bear her token.

Then Queen Guenivere sent for Sir Lancelot, and said thus: ‘I warn you that ye ride no more in no jousts nor tournaments but that your kinsmen may know you; and at these jousts that shall be ye shall have of me a sleeve of gold. And I pray you for my sake to force* yourself there, that men may speak you worship. But I charge you as ye will have my love, that ye warn your kinsmen that ye will bear that day the sleeve of gold upon your helmet.’ ‘Madam,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘it shall be done.’ And either made great joy of other.

It is important to keep in mind that, to this point, there is no textual evidence that they were sleeping together, and a great deal of evidence that it was important to Lancelot that they not cross that line. There is much less evidence that this is important to Guinevere.

So then one fateful day in May, Guinevere goes picnicing with an entourage of knights. They are captured by someone else who is in love with Guinevere, and taken back to his castle, but she manages to send a message to Lancelot. At the castle, she insists that her knights sleep in her bedchamber on the grounds that they were wounded in the battle when she was captured and need tending, but truly she wants them there to keep her captor from raping her.

Lancelot arrives to rescue her, and the person who kidnapped her agrees to give her back in the morning. She tells Lancelot to visit her room in the night. He climbs up to her window, which is barred. They have a heartfelt reunion and she says she wishes he could come in to her. He acquiesces and breaks the bars to get into her room, cutting his hand to the bone to do so. Despite the profusely bleeding wound and the ten other men sleeping in the room, they at last do sleep together, in this passionate blood covered consummation. He sneaks back out and replaces the bars.

In the morning, the man who kidnapped Guinevere comes in and sees blood all over the bed. He accuses her of being unfaithful to the king, saying she lay with one of the knights who had been sleeping in her room. She denies it, but it is very clear that she did sleep with someone who was bleeding.

Lancelot says he will fight to defend her from this accusation, which is right and proper because he is her champion. In this story people take trial by combat and oaths before God very seriously, especially Lancelot. He really does try. So he swears an oath that he will prove with his life that Guinevere did not sleep with one of the wounded knights who lay in her room. This of course is TRUE, but only on a technicality. Lancelot, having slept with her himself the night before, is also the one who defends her honor after. I love this story so much.

Instead of fighting him, the kidnapper takes Lancelot captive. In captivity he encounters ANOTHER damsel who insists that sleep with her in order for her to help him. He refuses, still faithful in his heart to Guinevere. Eventually she settles for him holding and kissing her, which is not across the line of appropriateness apparently, giving us some idea of where that line is drawn. Anyway, Lancelot gets out, fights for Guinevere and wins. There are indications that he feels like he barely dodged a devine bullet.

Guinevere and Lancelot return to Camelot. Finally the rumors about them are true, the deed has been done, but of course nothing appears particularly different as there were already rumors about them. Two knights, Mordred and Agravaine, who have been intriguing against Arthur already, go and tell Arthur that Guinevere is being untrue to him. Here is his response:

‘If it be so,’ said the King, ‘wit you well, he is none other; but I would be loath to begin such a thing but I might have proofs of it. For Sir Lancelot is a hardy knight, and all ye know that he is the best knight among us all; and but if he be taken with the deed he will fight with him that bringeth up the noise, and I know no knight that is able to match him. Therefore, and it be sooth as ye say, I would that he were taken with the deed.’ For as the French book saith, the King was full loath that such a noise should be upon Sir Lancelot and his queen. For the King had a deeming of it; but he would not hear thereof, for Sir Lancelot had done so much for him and for the Queen so many times that, wit you well, the King loved him passingly well.

Arthur says he will not hear of this without proof, because if Lancelot is accused and allowed to fight he would beat anyone. And, it is said that Arthur had some idea of the affair, but would not credit it because Lancelot had done so much for him and Guinevere, and he loved Lancelot greatly.

So, one night when the king is away hunting, the two accusers contrive to catch them in the act, with a group of twelve armed knights. They do find Lancelot in Guinevere’s chamber, but the text is notably, pointedly vague about whether they are actually in bed. In any case, Lancelot asks for a trial. The knights say no, they have caught him and so may kill him. He is Lancelot, so he kills all of them instead, save one (Mordred) whom he leaves wounded. Lancelot flees, intending to return to rescue Guinevere and take her to his own castle to protect her from Arthur’s wrath. He maintains her innocence, and still intends that they will all reconcile.

Guinevere is to be burned at the stake (normal in this situation). Lancelot rescues her from the burning at the last moment, killing a number of knights of the round table. Arthur seems to blame the accusers more than Guinevere and Lancelot (for good reason; keep in mind that the romance is a subplot, there is a great deal of political intrigue going on.) Now a war will begin, whether anyone wants it or not, because of the people Lancelot killed. Lancelot takes Guinevere to his own castle. Battle lines are drawn, and Lancelot and Arthur confront each other in the fighting:

And ever was King Arthur about Sir Lancelot to have slain him, and ever Sir Lancelot suffered him and would not strike again. So Sir Bors encountered with King Arthur; and Sir Bors smote him, and so he alit and drew his sword and said to Sir Lancelot, ‘Sir, shall I make an end of this war?’—for he meant to have slain him. ‘Not so hardy,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘upon pain of thy head, that thou touch him no more! For I will never see that most noble king that made me knight neither slain nor shamed.’ And therewith Sir Lancelot alit off his horse and took up the King and horsed him again, and said thus: ‘My lord the king, for God’s love, stint this strife, for ye get here no worship and I would do my utterance. But always I forbear you, and ye nor none of yours forbear not me. And therefore, my lord, I pray you remember what I have done in many places, and now am I evil rewarded.’ So when King Arthur was on horseback he looked on Sir Lancelot; then the tears burst out of his eyes, thinking of the great courtesy that was in Sir Lancelot more than in any other man. And therewith the King rode his way and might no longer behold him, saying to himself, ‘Alas, alas, that yet this war began!’

So Arthur tries to slay Lancelot, but Lancelot, the better fighter, refuses to slay him and indeed when Arthur is unhorsed Lancelot forbids that he be slain, and gives him his own horse. Arthur weeps for the honor that is in Lancelot, and laments that the war began.

The pope intervenes and tries to negotiate an end. Lancelot confirms that he is willing to return Guinevere to Arthur, and says he has always been willing to do this and will still defend her honor, but that he does not feel he can do so because Arthur has listened to liars and been misled, and he had more reason to take her away than the accusation of adultery - he does not trust she can be safe in that court, with things as they are.

Eventually they do make a deal, with some assurances, and he surrenders Guinevere to the king. He kisses her openly, says that he will leave, but should she be in danger or ever again accused of being untrue, he will fight for her as he always has. He departs the court forever, to much great sorrow, and returns to his own lands.

The war continues - eventually Mordred seizes the throne, Arthur kills him in battle but is mortally wounded himself and passes to Avalon. Following the king’s death, although her love would no longer be adulterous, Guinevere retires to a convent rather than reuniting with Lancelot. He seeks her out, and this is her reaction:

Sir Lancelot was brought before her; then the Queen said to all those ladies, ‘Through this same man and me hath all this war been wrought, and the death of the most noblest knights of the world; for through our love that we have loved together is my most noble lord slain. Therefore, Sir Lancelot, wit thou well I am set in such a plight to get my soul health; and yet I trust through God’s grace and through His Passion of His wounds wide, that after my death I may have a sight of the blessed face of Christ Jesu, and at Doomsday to sit on His right side;* for as sinful as ever I was, now are saints in heaven. And therefore, Sir Lancelot, I require thee and beseech thee heartily, for all the love that ever was betwixt us, that thou never see me no more in the visage. And I command thee, on God’s behalf, that thou forsake my company; and to thy kingdom look thou turn again, and keep well thy realm from war and wrack. For as well as I have loved thee heretofore, my heart will not serve now to see thee, for through thee and me is the flower of kings and knights destroyed. And therefore go thou to thy realm, and there take ye a wife and live with her with joy and bliss. And I pray thee heartily to pray for me to the everlasting Lord that I may amend my misliving.’ ‘Now, my sweet madam,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘would ye that I should turn again unto my country, and there to wed a lady? Nay, madam, wit you well, that shall I never do, for I shall never be so false unto you of that I have promised. But the self* destiny that ye have taken you to, I will take me to, for the pleasure of Jesu; and ever for you I cast me specially to pray.

Rather than rejoicing in Lancelot’s presence, Guinevere laments that their love brought about the downfall of the Arthurian court, and the deaths of the knights of the round table and King Arthur. She calls upon Lancelot, by all the love that was ever between them to leave her presence, telling him to marry someone else if he wishes and see her no more. Lancelot replies that he wants no one else, and that he will respect her wishes, but will also renounce the world and join a religious order. He asks Guinevere for a final parting kiss, which she denies him.

When Guinevere lies dying of illness, Lancelot sets out to go to her, having had a vision. She knows of his coming, and prays to die before she sees him, because she cannot bear it. She dies a half hour before he arrives, leaving instruction that he is to tend to her body, and then lay it to rest beside that of her lord King Arthur. Lancelot does this with great sorrow, and after ceases to eat or drink, and within weeks is dead himself.

And there you have it, the love affair that doomed Camelot.

HUGE DISCLAIMER: Any and all mistakes or misinterpretations are my own. This is what I gathered, but I am not a medievalist. I am barely an interested layperson. I’m just a random fic writer who got obsessed with research for a story, and had to share this tragic mess.

#i have a million thoughts about this #and there is a great deal of context that would be helpful #but i this doesnt need to be more than 4k words long so #i may do a followup post if there is interest #but black sails folks #i'm writing a lot of flintmadi convos right now #and vaguely planned to have them talk about this book #as a way to discuss their own situation and values #but i had not actually read it #and it is WAY MORE than i expected #anyway they are going to refer back to it #so i figured i should write it down so i can point at it if readers want to know wtf they are talking about #is there an #arthurian legend #tag?#i purposefully haven't looked i don't go here if there is a here to go #but fuck it that was a lot of work might as well see #anyway there are so many things to dig into here #arthur's role or lack thereof #(the rest of the book has a lot more to do with him)#the treatment of fate and prophesy #the courtly love tradition #how this fits into the arthurian tradition as a whole #and the clear french influence #vs the old celtic stories #also so many fun things about language in general #did you know that paramour is derived basically the same way as paramilitary?#'para' as 'beyond that which is regular'#also in middle english negatives are additive rather than canceling each out out!#fun facts

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steddieasitgoes · 5 months

Text

Pulling triple duty with this one.

Written for @steddiemas Day 29: Holiday Parties and @thefreakandthehair Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge. It's also a holiday sequel to my big bang fic Signed, Sealed Delivered, I'm Yours

My prompt for the Winter Fanworks Challenge was: “If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me."

Tags: Established relationships, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Mailman Steve, Platonic Soulmate Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Slice of Life

wc: 4003 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

The Brookbridge Post Office holiday party is a tradition that dates back long before Steve joined the ranks. Every year Warren splurges on renting out a private room at a restaurant or banquet hall before passing all the planning off to his assistant of the month. The only rule, as far as Steve’s aware, is that it has to be tied to some charity organization so that he can write the whole thing off later.

This year is no different as the invitation he finds shoved into his work locker has the Toys for Tots logo front and center. What is different is the attire section that requests all guests break out their best holiday sweaters for the occasion.

Steve’s not sure what constitutes a holiday sweater, but he has a closet full of knit red and green ones that’ll surely work. No sweat off his back. Especially since he’s also done with the toy shopping.

The holiday party isn’t Steve’s favorite way to spend a random Saturday in December, but he always sucks it up and goes. Usually drags Robin along with him so they can stand in the corner getting drunk off free drinks while making fun of Tommy and his gang of mini-me’s as they try to hit on everyone’s plus ones.

It’s not the highlight of their holiday season by any means, but it's a tradition they’ve had going for years now. One he’s not sure he wants to break this year even though he could take Eddie as his romantic plus one. Which is exactly what he tells Robin during their Saturday movie marathon.

They’re sprawled out on the couch, Dumpster between them, with Christmas Vacation playing in the background. They’ve seen it enough times to quote the entire thing from memory so neither minds the interruption. It’s not like they ever actually watch movies on their Saturday movie afternoons anyway.

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Robin snorts, lobbing a pillow at his head. “Of course, you’re taking Eddie!”

“But we always go together.”

“Only because you never have a date!”

“So, what? You’ve been going all these years as my pity plus one?” Steve asks, nudging her with his knee.

“I’m sorry, did you think I liked hanging out in some stuffy banquet hall listening to Hagan and his little groupies try to hit on me?”

“Don’t forget the year Warren hit on you.” Robin retches, startling Dumpster from her slumber. The cat yawns before slowly climbing off the couch and down the hallway in search of somewhere quieter to sleep.

“Take Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

“Don’t you think two months of dating is too soon to be taking him to work events?”

This time it’s Robin’s bony knee that jabs into the meaty flesh of his thigh.“Jesus, Robs,” he hisses, pulling the hem of his shorts up to check for instant bruising.

“You’re dumber than I thought if you really think you and Eddie have only been dating for two months. What about all those months before, huh?” Steve doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes in silent protest. She’s not wrong, but she’s not right either. “Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t already met some of the people from work when he goes to the post office.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess you’re right,” Steve sighs. Still, there’s something lingering in the pit of his stomach. A gnawing, unpleasant weight that he can’t shake. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Tommy’s going to be there, though.”

The same Tommy who has been a Grade-A douchebag since getting removed from Steve’s route and put back on sorter/greeter duty. Steve’s not sure why he doesn’t just quit if he’s so miserable but every day he finds himself on the receiving end of a lackluster death glare.

Also, the same Tommy who gave Eddie the nickname “Mr. Dreamy.” The same Tommy who relentlessly hit on Eddie until he finally got thrown out of his house once and for all.

The same Tommy who has no idea that the guy Steve is seeing, because yes, Tommy knows Steve is seeing someone and teases him about it daily, is said, Mr. Dreamy.

Bringing Eddie into that is a recipe for disaster. One Steve’s not sure he even wants to subject himself to, let alone Eddie.

“On second thought,” Robin says, scrambling to sit up. “Can you take two guests? I will suffer the gross gazes and bad pick-up lines of your male coworkers just so I can see Hagan’s face fall when he realizes you’re dating the guy he was after.”

Steve laughs despite himself, shaking his head. If there’s one thing Robin loves, it’s being a fly on the wall for some good, old-fashioned drama.

📬 🎄 📬

With Robin officially denying his plus-one invitation, Steve sets out to ask Eddie.

It’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, he knows this, but something about it also feels like a Big Deal — with a capital B and D. Sure, they’ve branched out from their routine lunch dates — they have a standing Sunday brunch double date with the girls and make a point to go out at least once during the week, plus Steve regularly stops by the shop now, but it's different inviting Eddie to go to a work event with him.

It’s another step in their relationship.

One toward a more permanent future and Steve doesn’t want to fuck it up by scaring Eddie away.

So he spends a week testing the waters. Asks Eddie about his holiday plans over Toasty Treats’ legendary holiday turkey sandwich on Tuesday. Brings up Tommy’s latest fuck up over chili leftovers on Thursday to gage Eddie’s feelings about him (“Jesus H. Christ he really is an idiot,” he laughs, clearly poking fun, but not in the teasing way he does with Steve that always makes his cheeks heat up). During brunch on Sunday, he goads Robin into sharing a fun anecdote from last year's party where one too many cocktails had her and Steve taking over the karaoke machine serenading guests all night with off-key renditions of Christmas carols.

When Steve steals a glance at Eddie he finds him smiling and laughing along with the story.

And just like that the seed is planted.

Steve finally gets the courage to ask the question he’s been dancing around for a week on Tuesday over leftover Chinese takeout.

“Course I’ll be your plus-one, Stevie,” Eddie answers mouthful of Chow-Mien. “I’ll be your plus-one anytime, anywhere, any—”

“Alright, you sap,” Steve laughs, leaning over the table to steal a kiss.

“Does this mean I’m finally going to see the back room where the mail sorter fairies work?”

“Unfortunately not. The party’s at the banquet hall in town.”

“Dammit,” Eddie sighs.

“Oh, and you have to wear a Christmas sweater.”

“Love me a good theme!”

📬 🎄 📬

Turns out, what Steve considers a Christmas sweater is very different from what Eddie considers a Christmas sweater. A fact he’s currently in the midst of learning as he glances around Eddie’s bedroom.

“Stevie, sweetheart, love of my life,” Eddie says, clasping his hands in front of him as he rocks on the balls of his feet. “That is not a Christmas sweater.”

Steve glances down at the knit sweater he’s wearing before fisting the hem and pulling it away from his chest to get a better look. He’s not sure what Eddie’s talking about. It’s totally a Christmas sweater!

“Yeah it is, Eds,” he defends. “It has a reindeer and a tree on it. That’s pretty Christmas.”

Eddie gawks for a moment before scrubbing a hand down his face. Steve knows he only does that when he’s frustrated so he braces for whatever he’s going to say.

“Objectively speaking, yes, it is a Christmas sweater. But it’s also not a Christmas sweater.”

This time it’s Steve who gawks at Eddie. He’s used to Eddie getting worked up over random things, but this is a new one. “Okay Christmas Sweater expert, what is an appropriate Christmas sweater then.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Eddie grins before stalking over to the pile of clothes on his bed. He shuffles through the clothes for a moment, tossing a few shirts to the wayside before he shouts victoriously and turns around clutching a red sweater in his hands. “Now this is a Christmas sweater.”

Steve can’t help the cackle that escapes him the minute his eyes land on the sweater. It’s a red monstrosity with an upside-down snowman sprawled out over the entire thing. A plastic carrot of some sort protrudes off and hanhs low, blending with the tinsel on the hat and two blue ornament balls that also dangle low

“If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me,” Steve says through laughter.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad!”

“Eddie!” Steve squawks, brows knitted together. “It’s literally a dick and balls!”

“Warren is a buzz kill,” Eddie sighs, tossing the sweater aside. Without another word, he reaches for another sweater from the mess on his bed and turns around. “What about this one?”

This one is green with a gingerbread man smiling in the middle. It looks innocent enough except for the fact that the gingerbread has bloodshot eyes and the words “let’s get baked” are stitched in big white letters followed by a marijuana leaf.

“Are you trying to get me fired? Again!”

“Hey,” Eddie scolds playfully. “I didn’t get you fired, I got you demoted. And we agreed it was both our fault. Don’t be putting the blame on me! Besides I’m just sticking with the theme.”

“Baby, the theme is Christmas sweaters not whatever this is,” Steve says waving his hands in the air.

“These are Christmas sweaters.”

“I mean, yeah, they’re technically Christmas sweaters but they’re not appropriate!” Steve laughs. “Where did you even find them?”

“Are you forgetting I work with artists all day? Me and the guys make them.”

“You made these?” Steve asks, snatching the sweater from his hands to get a better look.

Up close it's easier to tell that they’re homemade. The stitches are slightly askew, a missing thread or two here and there. Overall though they’re store-like quality. He didn’t even know Eddie could sew let alone sew an entire inappropriate Christmas sweater. If the tattooing thing doesn’t work out, maybe he and the Hellfire guys should start a clothing line.

“That’s pretty impressive actually.”

“So, does that mean you’ll wear one?”

“To my work party? Absolutely not,” Steve laughs.

“Come on,” Eddie whines. “Nowhere on that invite does it say it has to be appropriate!”

“I’m pretty sure it’s implied! Maybe you can get away with that at the shop's holiday parties, but Brookbridge is full of stuck-up employees. Warren might be sleeping with his assistant but I don’t think he’ll appreciate this,” Steve says, lifting the gingerbread sweater.

“I guess that means I should change then.”

“Wait, you’re wearing one of these right now?” Eddie nods, coaxing another chuckle from Steve. “What does yours look like?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

With eyes shining with mirth and that crooked smile, Steve loves so much, Eddie slowly peels off his leather jacket revealing the Christmas sweater he’s been wearing. It’s hunter-green and looks incredibly soft to the touch. Unfortunately, the words “Well Hung” are stitched in a bright green across the chest. Four baubles are stitched on underneath in various sizes trying their best to make the phrase Christmas-appropriate instead of the innuendo it is.

“Oh my god,” Steve wheezes, doubling over in laughter. It takes him a minute to compose himself and when he does Eddie is standing there beaming with pride. “S’clever and definitely true.” Eddie’s smile grows even wider at that. “But yeah, I think you should change, baby.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Eddie groans.

“Hey, I’m plenty fun,” he says, quickly closing the distance between them. Steve gets his hands on Eddie, wrapping them around his middle and pulling him flush with his chest before searing a kiss to his lips. “But I don’t want to give Tommy any ideas. Don’t think he’d back off if he saw you advertising yourself like this.”

Eddie hums in consideration before reluctantly agreeing. Wiggling out of Steve’s grasp, he yanks the sweater off and tosses it onto the bed with the other rejected sweaters. Then, he sulks over to his closet to search for another sweater. A few minutes pass, nothing but the sounds of plastic hangers clanging against the metal rod filling the room before Eddie turns around with a huff.

“So, turns out I don’t have any appropriate Christmas sweaters.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I have a spare lying around. We’ll just stop by my place before heading over.”

📬 🎄 📬

They get intercepted by Debbie as they’re trying to leave, costing them an extra ten minutes they don’t have to spare. That added with the detour to Steve’s place and the inevitable quickie that follows when they realize Robin isn’t home makes them an hour late to the party.

But it’s not a big deal. Hardly anyone but Betty even realizes they’re late. And the only reason she notices is because she’s smoking outside the door when they get there.

“You clean up nice,” she says like she does every holiday party. Tossing the cigarette to the floor, she snubs it out with the toe of her boots before slowly dragging her eyes up Eddie. “You do too, Eddie, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m Eddie. And thank you, ma’am.”

Betty tsks, waving her hand in the air. “None of this ma’am crap. Just Betty is fine. Steve’s told me lots about you. Have you made a decision on that P.O. Box yet?”

Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting. That day doesn’t leave the best taste in his mouth considering how it ended, but it did start out with a lot of promise.

“Oh, uh, I don’t think it’s for me. S’much easier to have my mail delivered to me. Especially when he’s doing it.”

Betty glances at Steve and gives him another slow once over before winking at the both of them. “M’sure it is,” she laughs. “You boys better get in there. Don’t want to miss the fun.”

📬 🎄 📬

The banquet hall is decorated just as it always is. A giant Christmas tree sits in the middle. A handful of tables surround a small dance floor. There’s a buffet of food on one end, the donation table on the other. A small band is set up on stage, serenading the crowd with a mix of Top 40s and holiday hits. No karaoke machine this year much to Eddie’s chagrin.

After a round of drinks, Steve gets to mingling, introducing Eddie to the handful of coworkers he actually likes. The introductions are brief and his co-workers are quick to share embarrassing stories about Steve’s early days on the job with Eddie who listens and laughs along.

Eventually, Warren finds them, his wife draped lovingly on his arm while his assistant throws daggers his way from the bar. Steve puts on his best smile and expertly navigates the small talk, making a point to compliment Warren’s wife and joke about her being out of his league. Warren’s quick to excuse the both of them after that.

“He gives me the creeps,” Eddie shivers, watching as he guides his wife through the sea of people with a hand on the small of her back all the while making eyes with his assistant across the room.

“He’s definitely a douchebag,” Steve agrees.

He takes a sip of his drink as he scans the room. They’ve been here for almost two hours now and he hasn’t spotted Tommy once. Usually, he’s the center of attention at these things. Dancing up a storm and making it a point to flirt with everyone’s plus ones. Maybe he’s already staked his claim on someone and is getting lucky in the bathroom, Steve thinks before shaking the thought from his head. Who is he kidding, Tommy doesn’t have that kind of luck.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s sort of bummed that Tommy hasn’t made his presence known to him yet. Not because he wants to see him, he’d be happy going the rest of his life without having to share the same room with the guy, but because he wants to show Eddie off. And, okay, maybe he also wants to see Tommy’s face fall like Robin wanted to.

📬 🎄 📬

Steve is swaying with Eddie on the dance floor when the devil that is Tommy shithead Hagan finally materializes. He’s beyond tipsy, uneven on his feet, and freckled face flushed redder than Steve’s ever seen it. His eyes are glossy and his lips are curled in a way that sends alarm bells blaring in Steve’s head.

Trouble is afoot.

Afoot? Christ he’s spending too much time with Eddie.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Harrington.” He practically spits before whipping his head to stare at Eddie. “And oh, look what the postman dragged in. Yesterday’s mail!”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, taking a step toward Tommy. He gives Steve a mischievous look before cocking his head to the side as he gives Tommy his full attention. “Do I know you?”

“Oh don’t play coy in front of your little boy toy, darling,” Tommy slurs, reaching out to rest a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

It takes all the strength in Steve’s body not to reach out and yank his arm away. Thankfully, Eddie does it for him, shrugging the offending hand off with more force than necessary.

“Oh come on,” Tommy scoffs, more of a whine than anything else. “Don’t pretend like we didn’t have the best times when Harrington got himself demoted. What’s it like getting my sloppy seconds, Harrington?”

“Watch it, Tommy,” Steve scolds, taking a step closer to Hagan. He’s not going to make a scene, he’s not. But he’s also not going to stand here and let him talk about Eddie like that.

Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. “If I’m anyone’s sloppy seconds I’m Steve’s. And they are very sloppy if you catch my drift.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He knows he shouldn’t encourage this, but it's hard to be the bigger person when Tommy is standing right there purposely antagonizing him for his own gain. Sue him for wanting to play the game just a little.

“Sorry, Tommy, but Eds here is right,” Steve says, placing a delicate hand on Eddie’s shoulder before squeezing it. “Don’t you remember, I got demoted for hooking up with a “bombshell” in the van? Well, guess what, you’re looking at him.”

“That— that’s not what happened,” Tommy says, directing his words at Steve, not Eddie. “You weren’t with him! Aaron said you were with…”

Steve watches the metaphorical gears turning in Tommy’s head as he trails off. Can tell the moment things start clicking. He really had no clue that the guy Steve had been seeing was Eddie. Steve watches the stunned look spread across his face the same way it spread across his all those months ago when he caught Tommy leaving Eddie’s place. The gross realization that they actually do have the same type after all.

“Why don’t you keep moving Hagan,” Steve says, nodding his head in the opposite direction.

“Nah, I think I’m good right here, actually,” he says, confidence returning.

This guy just doesn’t know when to quit.

“Tommy seriously,” Steve tries again. “Go bother someone else. We’re not interested.”

“Oh, so you’re speaking for him now too?”

“Please,” Eddie scoffs. “You know I’m not interested in you. Never have been and never will be.”

That does it.

Steve sees the moment Tommy’s confident facade breaks. The rosiness of his cheeks grows into an angry red, flooding his body. His eyes, once glossy, are now laser-sharp and squinted. His fingers curl into fists at his side as he readies himself.

Steve’s faster though, stepping in front of Eddie at the same moment Tommy lunges. It would be easy to put an end to this once and for all. Give Tommy the gift of a black eye or bruised rib with one skilled punch that Steve would love to throw. But Tommy shithead Hagan isn’t worth losing his job for, so he reigns in his own anger and instead gets his palms on Tommy’s chest to hold him back.

“Don’t be stupid, Hagan,” Steve says. “Warren’s watching. Do you really want to lose your job for good this time?”

The words are supposed to knock some sense into the guy, calm him down. But it does the opposite, riling him up even more until Steve can practically feel his skin vibrating under his hands. Thankfully, Aaron and the rest of his minions are there in an instant, pulling him away and holding him back.

They try their best to calm him down but Steve can see Tommy’s anger growing by the second. He’s only seen him this angry once before — two months ago when Warren removed him from the route. He doesn’t need to see an encore performance so instead he reaches for Eddie’s hand and drags them away from the impending doom.

📬 🎄 📬

“Part of me still thinks you should have let him have it,” Eddie laughs, shoveling a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes into his mouth.

“Tommy’s not worth it.”

“I would have been so pissed if I missed you deck him,” Robin says, working her way through her own mountain of pancakes.

“That’s the real reason you didn’t punch him, isn’t it?” Eddie teases.

“Oh yeah,” Steve deadpans, rolling his eyes. “Promised Robin I wouldn’t punch anyone unless she was there to witness it.”

“Does she also have to refrain from punching people,” Chrissy asks.

Robin shakes her head. “Why? Is there someone I need to punch in your honor?”

“Not yet,” Chrissy says, nuzzling into her side. “But if Eddie makes us go to the Birchwood Holiday party in these tonight, you might need to. Debbie’s nephew is in town and he keeps staring at me from the window.”

“Again with the sweaters,” Eddie huffs, letting his fork clatter to the table. “They’re cozy and hilarious. You guys are just boring! Besides, people are going to love my sweater. You’ll see. They’re going to be all the rage one day.”

“Debbie already thinks they are,” Chrissy giggles. “I saw her wearing the one that says “I’m So Good Santa Came Twice” the other day while she was taking out the trash.”

“You gave Debbie one?” Steve shouts, nearly spitting out his orange juice in the process. Robin does spit out her drink, through her nose as usual as she chokes on her own laughter.

“She cornered me and I panicked! I didn’t think she’d wear it!”

“Look on the bright side, Eddie,” Robin says between shrieks of laughter. “With Debbie’s help, every suburban mom in Brookbridge will be walking around in one by next Christmas.”

“It’s a good thing you know a great delivery man,” Steve teases. “Because they’re going to be flying off the shelves.”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he groans.

As the table erupts into another fit of laughter, Steve can’t help but tug Eddie towards him before giving him a soft, syrup-infused kiss. And if he whispers something about feeling inspired by the inappropriate sweater Eddie’s picked out for him to wear later, well, that’s between him and Eddie and whoever’s bedroom they end up in when they leave Murray’s.

Besides, he still owes him for not punching Tommy himself at that holiday party.

And Steve always delivers.

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #SpicySixWinterFanworksChallenge #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fan fic #eddie fic #steve fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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wazzappp · 3 months

Text

FINALLY. FUCKING FINALLY FINISHED JESUS CHRIST.

Ok so. Heres the general breakdown for attack types:

Basic attacks: These attacks just use the weapons that manifest during their magical girl transformation. Theres no limit to using these. They don't utilize all that much magic but are still effective because the weapons are technically MADE of magic.

Ult attacks: Utilize more magic and have a recharge time of about 5 to 10 minutes (which is a pretty long time in a fight). They can only be used after quite a bit of practice, as they require the ability to channel a lot of magic in a short amount of time. A familiar and their person must be able to work together in order for it to be effective. The familiar has to be capable of funneling the magic to the caster, and the caster has to have experience CASTING it.

Specialized spells: Each one of these attacks is different from person to person. These don't necessarily have to be attacks, they can also be defenses or evasions. These are usually the most difficult for a caster to master and take even more magic than the Ult attacks. A magical girl typically uses it the first time on accident, during the heat of the moment where they are desperately drawing on more magic to defend themselves. After that it is a concentrated effort to cast these spells. It's usually a signifier that the magic is starting to settle in them and that they're ready to cast more. The recharge time for these spells is 10 to 15 minuites.

The recharge time for casting spells will decrease the more a caster is composed of magic... which is a post for later lmao. As much as I would love to get into the fun ship of Theseus glitter body horror in this post it would just take to long lmao but its COMIN EVENTUALLY I PROMISE.

Johnny is an excellent fighter because of his POWER and his RANGE. He's best suited to fighting merged ghosts because it's one big target to aim a lot of power at. His Ult spirals out from around him and can help prevent him from getting caught if a bunch of separate ghosts try to swarm him. The downside is that its harder to direct, and he's in danger of hitting teammates if they're in his range (which I said earlier is pretty large). His specialized spell conjures essentially a cannon of fire, which he can aim wherever he pleases. His magical recharge time is slightly shorter than he norm, and he strikes me as the type of person who would use them IMMIDIETLY after he recharges.

Johnny has trouble if he doesen't have enough room to move his Scythe around. He works best in big open spaces. Hallways and elevators and the like are a BIG nope.

Robbie is unique among the other ghost fighters because 1. He's the least experienced and 2. He probably has the MOST trouble getting along with his familiar (I cant see him and Eli getting along in any fuckin universe tbh). Because of this he's not as adept at channeling large amounts of magic. When he does try at an Ult attack it usually has a much smaller effect than the others (see top right with him swinging his hammer). This means he focuses mostly on non magical attacks; having two modes to use his hammers (regular and on the end of chains to give him range). He's not as powerful so he has to be more CREATIVE. His magical recharge time is about what I described at the top.

He fights best at close range and can use his chained hammers to drag enemies that are usually too far away closer to him (GET OVER HEREEEE fuck yeah mortal kombat). His big weakness is that his smaller weapons dont allow him to block as easily, so he needs to focus on dodging or using his specialized spell, teleporting, to get out for the way (mostly dodging though. he's not great at teleporting). He HAS to stay aware of his surroundings or he could get surprised very easily.

Im gonna need. A whole nother post to try and figure out how the charger fits into all this lmao.

Dannyyyy!!! His funky moon staff was so fun for me to think about. One idea that I thought of after getting everything drawn is him sticking it around a ghosts neck and using it to guide them around and use that ghost as a shield. He has similar weakness to Johnny in that he needs space to move and cast spells. His arm guards make him just the littlest bit more able to block attacks but he still primarily uses his staff to stop attacks from going through (most of the others do. Yayyyyyy spinny capabilities).

@moosemonstrous made the WONDERFUL suggestion of his specialized spell being THROWS ACID ON YOU THROWS SO MUCH FUCKING ACID ON YOU REDUCED YOU TO YOUR BASE ELEMENTS GET FUCKED NERD GET ACIDED cause of his green era lmfao. He really REALLY does not enjoy this and uses it as little as possible. His magic recharge time is also just a little shorter.

@rokhal YOUUUUU. You mentioned Frank having time manipulation like Homura from Madoka Magica and it spawned this whole class of spell I blame you for this.

Frank has the most experience with magical girling by FAR and its very apparent in his fighting style. He sometimes uses the magic manifested by preparing his Ult without actually COMPLETING the spell which is like. Fighting with RPG backblast in magical girl world.

Franks staff is more infused with magic than the other fighters weapons, which allows him to manipulate its length (Robbie does something to a similar effect with his chains at the cost of his magical attacks not being as strong. Frank has no such limits lol).

His specialized spell stops time for about 5 minutes. If he extends himself he can sometimes push this time longer but it is VERY tiring. He also has to be REALLY careful of his team mates movements. Positioning some metal shards for a ghost to fall onto is all well and good, unless Robbie manages to teleport directly onto it. His recharge time is much MUCH shorter than the others, it usually only takes him 2 minutes to recharge an Ult and 7 minutes to recharge his specialized spell (though that time does increase the more he uses it, so there are still consequences for expending that much magic)

ALSO CREDIT TO MOOSE AGAIN for starting the idea to have all of them be. Sort of afraid? of their specialized spells. Johnny is terrified that he will somehow manage to literally burn the, surprisingly sort of happy, life he's built to the ground. Robbie is scared one day he'll just pop out of existence entirely. That he'll just go to teleport and get stuck in the weird inbetween space of being composed of magic and thought without real form forever. Danny is almost too afraid to go near people while his spell is active because Please Jesus Christ don't get dissolved please please. Fuck this acid ability fuck it fuck this. Frank's is a nightmare and a dream in one. What if he finds a time so nice, so happy, that he just freezes it and gives everything he has to stay there forever? It's been so long since he's had a family. What if he cant bear to let this one go?

#drempen I promise the 'everyone falling flat on their face and slamming into asphalt' is still happening its just coming a little later #now i can get to the glitter body horror as a little treat before jumping into familiar lore lets go lets goooooooo #I need it out of my head dude i need it OUT.#ghost rider magical girl au #my art #sketch #robbie reyes #johnny blaze #danny ketch #frank castle #ghost rider #thank you for screaming about this with me mooseeeeeee it was very productive #okok I have asks to answer and @s to respond too now that this monster is out of the way like jesus christ

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jttw-monkeybusiness · 9 months

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Heya, Celibacy Question Anon again

I fully know the blog is centered around an AU, I was merely asking because the ethics of making an AU for something that isn't a show and is an actual religion is pretty shaky since actual religious text is pretty different from a form of entertainment media

I'll be honest, I mainly asked because I have seen and heard multiple accounts of Buddhists saying that personifying JTTW in such a way, especially in erasing/tweaking Wukong's celibacy, is extremely disrespectful

So I wanted to be sure that you were aware of the fact that many Buddhists do say that treating JTTW like it's some sort of fandom media (where you would make AUs rather than interpretations of said text) is very disrespectful (and even in interpretations, outright ignoring his celibacy is still considered wrong. Even if it may has been done before, my concern here is that a lot of worshipers of Wukong has said it's disrespectful)

Hello! First I want to say that what I will say in this text is not directly towards you, anon! I say this in general! What I understood is that this blog and AU are inspired by Journey To The West which is not a religion. It is a great Chinese work of fiction written presumably by Wu Chengen in the XVI century. I would argue it's one of the best Chinese novels of all time that I think everyone should read. Yes, it has a real religion that is Buddhism, but the main focus is the novel derives its material from folk tales and myths. That's how I at least take it when I read it. The author of the novel deliberately uses mutually interpretative terms which allow different experts, scholars, and religious practitioners to interpret the novel as an allegory of Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism, Christianity etc. So Buddhism is not the main religion if we want to go very deeply into it. I personally think Journey To The West tells a story of spiritual transformation that happens to Wukong for example. While the meaning of religious symbolism can be understood in different ways depending on your own religion and background I think most people agree it's about seeking the truth and salvation for the soul. That's what I want to add to my AU and how I see JTTW in general. So for your point, I will answer as best as I can bc English is not my native language and I don't want to cause any drama or hate. When it comes to pop culture and media, I understand that there must be people who don't like JTTW AU's bc the creators, like myself, want to explore the possibilities and make our own stories for fun and entertainment. I personally think if the people in Buddhism and people who worship Wukong want to have their voice heard they should focus on companies that make a profit. Shouldn't this logic also include Lego Monkey Kid which was based on Journey To the West? Their version of Wukong is not exactly the same as in the novel in my honest opinion and the story could easily be someone's AU (and technically it is!) but it has become full-on animation series that makes money. I'm not trying to be disrespectful to anyone! I'm just trying to open the other door in here. I don't get any money from making this blog. I do this for fun bc JTTW is a novel that I love. Do some Buddhists and people who worship Wukong hate it and find it disrespectful? Maybe yes, but again JTTW is a novel and that's how I view it. It's like saying Christian people hate any movies where they make fun of Jesus Christ like Family Guy. That's not even the worst yet! I'm saying this as someone who used to be a Christian.

What I am saying is that you can't please everyone. I am aware that people might not like what I do, but I know that legally I am not doing anything wrong. I can't please people who are religious. I don't think I have tried to be disrespectful at least not intentionally. If I would I think people would have said it a long time ago.

I hope this gave you some satisfaction or a better idea of why I love JTTW.

#personal questions

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saras-devotionals · 13 days

Text

Quiet Time 5/4

What am I feeling today?

I feel rather relaxed today but also guilty. There was a church event I wanted to attend early this morning but my brother and I had gone late to bed and this morning we were both really tired and he didn’t want to make the drive. I wish I was there, spending time with the kingdom but I’ll give myself grace. Either way, I’m looking forward to the rest of my day bc I’ll be heading to the rink twice and teaching ice skating which is always fun! I’m also grateful for how free my time has become now that I’ve finished my semester!

One last thing: I’m sorry I haven’t been posting much. It’s been selfish of me to keep my quiet times to myself when what I’ve been learning can be beneficial to other believers beyond me. I’ll try to be better about posting daily again!

Romans 7 NIV

(v. 4) “So, my brothers and sisters, you also died to the law through the body of Christ, that you might belong to another, to him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit for God.”

As disciples of Christ, we belong to Him now and everything that He commands of us rather than the laws of the world (that’s not to say to be rebellious on earth, rather to keep the Lord’s word as the priority).

(v. 14-17) “We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me.”

In all honesty, I’m having a very hard understanding all this. I believe what Paul is trying to express is how people were before Christ. How they regarded the law and then the sin they felt bound to since they did not have their freedom in Jesus (as is stated earlier in Romans about being a new creation and no longer bound).

(v. 18-20) “For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.”

Again, I had a hard time understanding this so I went to commentary:

This knowledge of what it means to be out of Christ and under the law of Moses is imparted to us, not from the standpoint of the intellectual pagan, but from the viewpoint of the great Christian apostle who saw much more clearly than any unregenerated man could have seen it, just what an awful state of wretchedness and misery must ever pertain to the man who is unredeemed, who is not "in Christ." Apart from Jesus Christ, there is no way by which even the best intentioned of unregenerates could exist in any other state than the one depicted here. That wretchedness, truly considered, is the perfect description of every man who is out of Christ, whether or not he might be less or more aware of it; and it is also a description of the true state of every Christian who for any reason whatever failed to abide "in Christ." The interpretation which would make this marvelous description of every non-Christian to be a description of the true life in our blessed Lord partakes of the genius of the evil one himself, and it should be rejected out of hand. Think what a terrible description of humanity apart from the Saviour this passage presents. It is a picture of humanity unable to do what is approved and desired to be done, and at the same time a humanity condemned to the "practice" (yes, that is the word) of things which are acknowledged to be undesirable and reprehensible even by the victims themselves. If this is not a good description of our own sinful generation which has turned away from God to walk in their own foolish ways, where is there a better one?

(v. 21-25) “So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.”

I think what this is trying to say is that before being in Christ, a lot of us wanted to do the right thing but we were bound by our sinful nature because we still took it upon ourselves instead of submitting fully to Christ. Once we have given our life to Jesus, he delivers us from our binding to sin and we are dead to it (we are forgiven fully of our sins but that’s not to say that we don’t struggle, instead we must daily rely on God for the strength to overcome and resist the temptations of the devil).

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1mnobodywhoareyou · 3 months

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You bought him a cake that said 'nice ass, bro' for Reggie/Willie because I feel like either of them would

INNY WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?! (this is at most T rated and not spiralling out of control BUT STILL)

“Dude,” Alex laments, “stop moping. This is getting ridiculous.”

Reggie pouts, “He’s not picking up any of my hints! I don’t know what else to try.”

“You could try, I don’t know, talking to him? Directly.” Luke chimes in from the other side of the room where he’s fiddling with his guitar.

Reggie groans dramatically, throwing himself face down onto the couch.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles into the cushion.

“You are being next level dramatic right now,” Alex says, unimpressed.

“You don’t get it.”

“I… *I* don’t get it?”

“He’s like. The world’s prettiest person.”

“Well aware, Reg. Are you living in an alternate universe where Willie only exists to you, or…?”

“Shut up,” Reggie says, again muffled by the cushion.

Alex pats Reggie’s head patronizingly. “Alright, well you have fun eating the furniture because you can’t figure out how to use your words. I’m going for ice cream. Bye!”

“If you see Willie tell him I love him!” Reggie calls from where he’s still lying. He’s turned his head to the side so that his voice will at least carry.

“Tell him your own fucking self.”

Alex grabs his keys and leaves, the door slamming behind him.

Reggie groans.

“Wow, not even ice cream can help. You must really be suffering,” Luke comments, setting his guitar down beside him.

“Ice cream doesn’t solve everything, Luke,” Reggie whines. He freezes and then jolts upright. “Wait!”

Reggie quickly throws on his shoes and runs after Alex. “Alex! Wait!” he calls desperately.

–

“I can’t believe you convinced them to write that,” Alex sighs as he starts the car.

“It’s amazing what a good tip will do,” Reggie beams. He starts giggling, “That’s what he said.”

“You are a child, I swear.”

“You’re just grumpy ‘cuz you’re boring.”

“I’m not boring and I’m not grumpy.”

“You’re always grumpy. Maybe you need a good tip too,” Reggie mutters.

Alex gapes at Reggie. “I get plenty laid, thank you very much.”

“Okay, well can we get me laid please? Go go go.”

“Jesus, next time I’m leaving you at home.”

“The cake is going to MELT, Alex.”

“I still don’t know why you needed fucking ice cream for this,” Alex mumbles.

They sit in relative silence for the drive, Reggie’s knee bouncing excessively and Alex trying not to lose it on him. When they finally pull into the parking lot, Reggie bolts out of the car.

“Reggie!” Alex calls, “You forgot your fucking cake.”

Reggie doubles back and scoops it out of the backseat where he’d buckled it for safety. He runs up to the building, jimmying the door open like he always does. Sure he could buzz up but where’s the fun in that?

He jogs up the stairs, all three flights of them, and stops in front of the familiar green door panting for breath.

Just as he’s about to knock, the door opens. Willie stands there stunned for a moment. “Reggie? What are you-”

“I brought you cake!” Reggie exclaims, shoving the plastic dome into Willie’s hands. The lid is frosted up from being out of the freezer for a while, obstructing the message on top.

“Cake? Why? It’s not… Reggie, why are you here?” Willie sighs.

“Just,” Reggie pushes Willie back into the apartment. He grabs the cake back and sets it on the counter, pulling the lid off and presenting it back to Willie.

“‘Nice ass, bro’?” Willie reads with amusement. “Bro?” he clarifies. “Is this you telling me-”

“That I think you have a very nice ass. Yes. And I would very much like your ass to be in my general vicinity much more regularly. The ‘bro’ might have been me freaking out. And… Ohmygod, kill me now.”

Willie chuckles and takes the cake from Reggie, setting it back down. “I’d also like my ass to be in your general vicinity much more regularly, Reg.”

“Yeah?” Reggie looks up at him sheepishly.

“Yeah.”

“As like… a friend thing, or?”

“No, not as a friend thing, you numpty. As a, ‘maybe even naked once in a while thing.’”

Reggie’s face feels unbearably hot and he imagines the colour matches. “Yeah, naked every once in a while sounds kind of great.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

“So are you gonna kiss me or are we skipping that part?”

“Oh. Oh, right. Yeah. Let’s do that. Please,” Reggie stammers.

Willie laughs and reaches out to pull Reggie closer. Reggie closes the distance, pressing their lips together.

Nobody really complains about the melted ice cream cake on the counter later.

#thank you!#i have no idea if this even makes sense but the idea hit me and now here we are #hope you like it #answered ask #prompt fill #nobody writes #nobodys fics #wiggie #jatp

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kazoologist · 8 days

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*gets hit with the f1 ask game beam*

tagged by both @oxygenpdf and @flyingcakeee!! Thanks <3

Who is your favorite driver?

I'm a new fan and I haven't begun properly my Summer Of Race Car Homework so it's all current drivers, but Alex Albon and Logan Sargeant are my faves.

Do you have any other favorite drivers?

I am new, and I honestly like a lot of them. My other faves are probably Zhou Guanyu (fascinated by that man), Yuki Tsunoda (fellow short king), and Oscar Piastri (April Aries Solidarity)

EDIT: FORGOT TO MENTION GEORGE RUSSELL, HAUNTED DOLL OF A MAN WHO I AM VERY INTRIGUED AND COMPELLED BY

Who is your least favorite driver?

I don't really have a least favorite! I don't really know anything about either driver for Haas I guess. So maybe them by default? My sister went to a robotics meet this year sponsored by Haas and decided she will root against them forever because of that meet tho. (this is possibly one of her funniest choices. she does not pay attention to motorsports at all, and only glances over my shoulder to ask how bad things are going for Haas)

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?

I am definitely driver based, but I picked the Williams team (more on this later) because I managed to catch the portion of pre-season testing where Albon was in the commentary box doing his champagne bit and I like. immediately decided I was rooting for him and Williams by extension. But bc of how i engage with sports I definitely also like teams (sorta. race car homework will decide how much I do later maybe)

If you like teams, what team do you pull for?

Williams (Albon and Logan and then got hit with Lia Block in F1Academy. Lia Block I Would Kill For You) but also Sauber (I pick teams based on color frequently and that green matched my hair last year, and is my fave type of green)

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?

Please christ do not put me in any situation of leadership. Just make me be in charge of like. whatever fuckin weird challenges they make em do on grill the grid. That i would be okay at I think.

How long have you been in F1

Uhhhh....February this year? I was *aware* of it and had friends into it before, and I knew like Hamilton and Verstappen before this year, and I knew who Schumacher was (VAGUELY!) but uh yeah. New Entry. New As Hell Entry, Even.

What got you into F1?

This is actually very funny. A couple buddies of mine have joked that they were gonna get me into motorsports for AGES, because it is "the perfect sport for me" and our new year resolution was to begin that process with nascar, since its "my cultural heritage as a redneck." (this is DEEPLY true and I cannot deny my family ties to nascar, redneckery, and general car silliness) February rolls around and Hamilton to Ferrari gets announced and I, recognizing who Lewis Hamilton is and being deeply surprised by the tumblr news bulletin text my friends to check in on em.

Group response is, "JESUS CHRIST!"

The following response is something to the tune of: "We're changing it up actually. Gee, you love sketchy business practices, financial crime, adrenaline junkie tendencies, weird contract trivia, AND athletes who are weird as fuck, Gee. We're starting you with F1 instead. have fun, please enjoy white collar crime and car racing. we will give u homework when the semester's over" And they did.

So I started following blogs posting memes, binged a few seasons of dts and analyzed the editing bc im a reality tv scholar in my heart and also the editing in that show is FASCINATING TO ME, and started watching highlights and found ways to watch the races, and boy. its a lot of fun! I was really surprised how chatty everyone is/seems to be in the fandom (and in the sports fandoms I guess?) so that's definitely helped.

Do you enjoy fanfic/rpf?

I will read literally any kind of fanfiction if the AU pitch is wild enough and boy does athlete rpf give writers good stuff to work with. I'm a former fanfic editor/beta reader, if the concept compels me I am here for it. Also, I love enabling crazy aus (hi wiz! <3) even if im not an rpf writer myself.

How do you view new fans?

I *AM* a new fan! I try to be conscious of my relative newness, but I'm enthusiastic to be here and having fun. So. Hope that's working!

Are your friends and family into F1 as well?

No, but we're a nascar family and we used to always be on a little family trip to my grandparents' house during the same week as the Indy500, so growing up we'd all be very sunburned and therefore hiding out inside while that race was on, so I grew up watching the indy500 (very different from nascar but this is also my fams only interaction with indy). I'm working on getting into nascar for the family, and Indy just to be the family's indycar and f1 correspondent.

For the friends, I do have those friends into f1 and theyre all gems and some of the oddest people I've ever experienced (very much the lesbians/gays who watch all sports stereotype), however the Car Chatter has always gone over my head until this year, but ya know. you move away and get busy so keeping track of hobbies and sports is hard when you arent religiously blocking someone every time a rivalry match goes down lol

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?

Of course! I am a very extroverted and social person I love making friends <333

i'll be real i have no clue who has and hasnt been tagged yet so im just gonna throw some names out and hope at least one of yall hasnt gotten this notification already lmao and if u haven't been tagged yet but follow me and would like to answer questions, consider this me tagging u spiritually

@two-tyred-problems, @wisteriagoesvroom, @stockcarbaby24 and @kissingwalls

#kazoo noises #tag games #tag game #kazoo lore #in case you are wondering this post is an invitation to ask me about reality tv editing conventions and dts' editing it is so interesting #to me...#zoomies posting #technically #sports posting #babys first f1 season

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invisiblegarters · 9 months

Text

Only Friends Ranking - Ep 1

Will probably never liveblog this one because I'm watching with a friend (if you read this you're the best thank you for putting up with me and my crazy lol) and so we mostly talk to each other during. :D Never done that before and I have to say it's already a blast.

So now that I am slightly more coherent and not just flailing about making high pitched sounds and flapping my hands (I believe I can fly) here's how I feel about our characters and their relationshipsI re:

Characters (Most to Least Fave atm)

Sand: As expected, I adore him. He's so tough but such a marshmallow underneath, I worry because it looks like he's signing himself up to get his heard trampled, and much as I enjoy First's tears (me and all of GMMTV I think), I just hate knowing that he's gonna be going through it, haha. Sand protector indeed. Heartbreak sucks and he's gonna feel it firsthand here. I really enjoy how irritated he is 90% of the time but I am worried that Ray of all people is gonna be his bi awakening. Please BL Jesus no. Also I hope he keeps his backbone because one thing I can't stand is a character who gets spineless the second they fall in love. Also please don't make him sing anymore I adore him but a singer he is not. He really does have the look though. Impeccable vibes.

Boston: Second fave right now, also as expected. I just love his slutty, slutty ass. Love that he mixed business with pleasure to mess around with Top again and instead he has to deal with Top setting his sights on Mew. Love that he's hooking up with everyone, no wonder Neo was like "I never have any clothes on" lol. Whether or not he cares about Top as a person, he is definitely feeling some kind of way about Top not wanting a repeat of their hookup (and Top has already told him this. Boston, babe. Either you are smitten or you are just that much of a narcissistic asshole. Could go either way really). I adore him and every ridiculous bone in his body. If they want to bring in a new dude every episode for him to go at it with I would not say nay.

Chueam: I knew she'd be high up on the list because Lookjun, but I would like April to appear please. I love how encouraging she is towards the whole TopMew thing, and girl, I feel you on the "have some fun, get laid, he's hot" thing. Lesbians next ep please

Mew: First surprise for me. I adore this guy. Adore him. He knows exactly what he's worth and he's paying attention, my guys - he clocked Top pretty fast so you can't tell me he's not fully aware of both Boston's and Ray's feelings (still loathe the idea of a RayMew endgame but mostly because the Ray of it all, lol). He's pretty and quiet and doesn't like to party like his friends so everyone assumes he's this naive dumbass (and I mean everyone - I think from Top to Ray to Boston to Chueam they all see him much the same) who doesn't know what he's about, and yet he keeps showing (not telling, this is Jojo at work and I love him for it) that he really, really isn't. Top is going down, my guys. Mew is gonna wreck this man so hard that he's not going to know which way is up and I for one am here to see it go down. If he makes out with Sand a little about it I wouldn't complain (I know, but hey. I can dream).

Nick: I admire a dude who will put a thirst pic on another dude's phone as a come on. I appreciate that he knows what he wants and he's going for it, and I anticipate he's gonna go full on crazy in a way no one expects when things start to go bad with Mr. Boston, and I am fully seated and waiting with the biggest of grins on my face.

Ray: I knew he would be awful, and I am so so happy! I can't tell you how pleased I am right now - he's awful! The way he grabbed Sand's face like he was a prize dog at a show and not a person

(exhibit A)

was pitch perfect, I hate his guts (mostly affectionate). And yeah yeah deep-seated insecurities and probably daddy issues blah blah I don't care. I'm nine thousand percent positive he's only going to get worse and I am here for it. I do like that we can already see exactly how needy he is - he's going to be so needy and I fully expect him to lash out the second he feels like he's needed in return because he's so used to taking, I want to see him and Sand really go at it once Sand gets fed up with the bottomless black hole of need he clearly is (please Sand get fed up with it), especially since it's clear that the only person he's willing to give concessions to is Mew. I desperately want Sand to wreck him but well. I also highly doubt it'll happen. We'll see. I fully expect that I will hate him for real at some point (it's on my bingo card) but if anyone can drag me around to loving him in the end it's Khaotung. Hopefully there's growth in store for him, else he'll get boring very quickly.

Top: Ah, Top. SO OTT that you know he absolutely doesn't mean it. WHen he grabbed that mic I was so terrified. I can barely handle whateverthehell First was doing I can't do Force as well. Please don't put me through it I will cry. He's just...not my favorite. Yes he's a playboy and yes he's gonna say a lot of playboy things and I honestly can't wait to see Mew destroy him.

Relationships (most to least fave)

Currently, I want to know what is up with Top and Sand so badly that it is painful. I desperately want them to be bitter exes but my real guess is that Top fucked around with someone Sand cares about and he hates him good for it, while Top has no clue who Sand even is. My first guess is a relative but could just be a close friend. Sand hates him though, and I love it. I want them to angrily make out about it.

MewTop has me in a chokehold right now, completely unexpectedly. I am not a ForceBook fan - they were cute in Enchante but I had not time for ABAAB so I expected they'd be meh to me. Not so. I'm obsessed. I can't wait to see them implode and for Mew to go full crazy.

BostonNIck: Again, I just think Nick is gonna go off in a way no one expects. It's always the sweet, quiet ones (see: Mew, even though I don't actually think he's all that sweet really).

RaySand: I like their antagonistic thing but I'm really incredibly not here for Ray being Sand's first bi experience, although I think it would make sense for Sand, who is way sweeter than his tough exterior implies (compare this with Mew, who has the sweetest of exteriors but I suspect could easily cut a bitch and not even flinch), to fall head over heels for the first guy who comes along and rocks his world (and whatever else you can say about Ray - and I'm sure I at least will - I'd bet cash money he is very very good in bed). This was honestly the one I thought would have me in a chokehold in spite of myself so I'm surprised to be less invested in it than I am the other two right now. I assume once the angst really kicks in though it'll get me even though I'd rather it not, because the one thing that will always be true about me is I love angst.

Also I was today years old when I discovered that some people think that First and Khaotung have no chemistry. This bluescreened my brain for a good five seconds, lol. Send help.

In conclusion

I really liked the ep. It gave good set up and a good foundation for all the mess that we know is to come, also I lost the betting pool on who Boston was messing around with in the trailer (I hoped Ray, guessed Papang, was blindsided by Drake). I would love to chat about this with any and everyone. because I don't want to annoy my watch buddy too much and yet I am already obsessed and fear I might. I'd apologize for the person I am about to become but well, I'm not really sorry. 😊

I am also very much looking forward to the meta that is going to come out of people much smarter (and less prone to making silly jokes) than me.

Only Friends Era let's goooo!

#only friends #only friends the series #rankings

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