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hwashotcheeto · 5 months

Note

Have you ever thought of villain Hwa? Maybe he's like also a tiny bit in the Mommy Hwa role but he's super angry at the world for not returning the huge amount of love he has for them and his tiny fists get angry n stuff- and then he decides to have revenge on "selfish" people who aren't really what he thought they would be with the amt of love he gave them... (it's pretty dark and scary) and then and then- someone helps him realize that despite the darkness in the world and how he has a right to feel that way there still is light and they bring his cute heart back to a safe and more secure place- while both y/n or oc or however become justice seekers or some kind of superheroes or smth and Hwa and y/n are satisfied at the end of the day

And when they get home y/n turns around bc she thinks she heard someone crying quietly (it's Hwa) and then he just hugs her and thanks her "for taking care of Mommy bc he really needed it"

I decided to drop this at the front desk of the library bc I love all of ur sweet and beautiful Hwa things...

First off, thank you for sending this in, darling. 💜 Thank you for the sweet words as well.

Secondly, I am a villain Hwa enthusiast (Tbh, I've put this man into so many roles, he could be Barbie). And if anything, I know this feeling all too well, so I'll gladly make something with this.

And just so we're all on the same page, when we say Villain Hwa, this is who I imagine

WC: 2k (wow she's long)

CW: Angst, mostly, but fluffy towards the end, vague descriptions of gore and throwing up, and one "Mommy" at the very end (lmk if I missed anything)

It's no surprise to anyone that the world is cruel and dark. In general, the world isn't a fun place to be. You'll get a very different answer depending on who you ask.

But for as much as people like you and I will argue that the world has some good in it, it's hard for some people to see it.

Seonghwa, unfortunately, had reached a breaking point.

He gave so much love to the world, to everyone in it, and got nothing in return.

The first few hundred times he was brushed off, he didn't let it get to him. Helping people made him feel happy, and giving love to people made him happy.

To see smiles light up people's faces, to see their eyes light up, was the greatest sight he could imagine. His heart felt full.

But even the most selfless person needs a moment to be selfish.

Seonghwa, alone and abandoned by those who he gave love, snapped. The selfless little voice in his head couldn't take it anymore. Didn't want to take it anymore. To be used and thrown aside, and not even recieve a "thank you" for anything he did.

"Just one!" He cried, tears in his eyes, his hands shaking from anger. "Just one person to say thank you, just one!"

But it was more than just "thank you" that he needed.

Seonghwa's skin craved the feeling of someone else's. If he closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough, he could feel it. Fingertips against his cheek, palms against his chest, arms around his waist.

But not just anyone's. Yours.

You and Seonghwa were lovers. For years, you'd been by each other's side, being each others support, your other half, the piece that completed you.

But why is it all in past tense? Why weren't you here right now, holding him in your arms, telling you how much he loved and appreciated you?

Because you'd left. Not because you didn't love Seonghwa, you loved him more than you'd ever loved anything.

You'd left to train, to be better, to protect him. Honestly, he wasn't hardly listening when you'd told him. All he remembered was that you were leaving, and he wouldn't see you for months.

And it had been months. And you weren't here.

With no way to contact you, or hug you, or even see you, Seonghwa had been spiraling. And he found himself on his knees in his home, completely and utterly drained.

And as he did, he had a revelation. An epiphany. An idea that might make himself feel better.

He'd hurt those who'd hurt him.

Revenge is a fruitless, endless road that will bring you nothing but emptiness, he'd heard before. But he just wanted someone to feel what he felt. To feel what it felt like to be weak, drained, used up, spent.

To make everyone who was so selfish to abuse his kindness suffer.

And never hurt anyone ever again.

Was your departure the catalyst for Seonghwa's shift? No. But it definitely didn't help.

You were standing beside your chief as you looked at the mutilated body of a young man. You were silent and pale as you tried to keep your food in your stomach.

But a breeze pushed the smell of rot into your nose, and it all came up before you could stop it.

"Go sit down, rookie," your chief gruffly said to you, to which you agreed with a nod, trying to wipe your mouth and prevent a second wave from rising up.

You stumbled away from the scene and spit up the rest of the disgusting mixture of bile and breakfast. Months of training don't prepare you for how to not lose your stomach at the sight of gore and the smell of decomposition.

"You'll get used to it," one of the detectives said as you spit into the street. The taste made your stomach churn all over again. You looked at him, and he offered a sympathetic half smile. "If it makes you feel any better, I threw up my first time too."

You nodded and leaned against the building, then slid down onto the ground, hugging your legs.

You'd insisted you could handle this, and it turns out, you can't. You'd left your life, your home, your boyfriend, for this. Because you believed you could do this, and wanted to be useful.

You were starting to see it less and less as the days went on, especially with this.

Your chief came over and made you stand back up, despite still feeling sensitive and nauseous. You tried to focus on what he was telling you, and putting the pieces to the scene and making sense of the details, but it was all foggy.

Until he mentioned something that made you perk up.

"A witness said they heard the name 'Seonghwa,' but it's not the victim's name. There's a high possibility that's our suspect."

Seonghwa?!

Your sweet, loving, charitable, selfless, goofy boyfriend? The boyfriend who cleaned so intensely, you could see your reflection in any surface? The boyfriend who'd cuddle you every night and make sure you fell asleep comfortably?

Seonghwa couldn't have been the one to murder and mutilate a man.

Much less someone you thought he considered a friend.

It couldn't be him.

It couldn't be...

Five unsolved murders later, you were losing your mind.

Five, FIVE, in one MONTH. And they were all tied to Seonghwa. They were all killed the same way, torn apart the same way, left in a mess the same way.

How could this be the same man you loved?! How could he have done this?! What had happened, why was he going after all of his friends?!

Your numerous calls to him hadn't worked, your desperate attempts to catch him hadn't worked either.

Honestly, you weren't sure if you wanted to find him in this state. If he was tearing apart his friends, would you be a victim too?

There was no discernable motive anyone could find, so it was a possibility that plagued your mind for the weeks he was out there.

You slept with your gun in your bedside table. It pained you to even think about hurting the man you loved.

But you had to protect yourself. You wouldn't turn into a number. A victim.

It turns out that keeping the gun beside you was a good move. But not because you were the target.

It was raining. No, storming. Thunder claps and lightening had kept you awake, alongside the paranoia and fear.

Amidst all that, you heard screaming outside your bedroom window. Living in the city, it wasn't anything new, but this was different. Running, then footsteps, then more screaming. A sound of someone being tackled. A struggle.

You shot up out of bed and grabbed your gun, hastily pulling on a mismatched outfit of clothes before you threw open your apartment window and looked into the alleyway below.

Just as you'd feared, it was him. Seonghwa, your love, your world, had someone pinned to the ground underneath him. You recognized him, he was another one of Seonghwa's friends. He already had blood on his face from an injury you couldn't see.

Your heart was pounding so hard, it could've exploded. You climbed out of your window and onto the fire escape before you screamed:

"SEONGHWA, STOP!"

To your surprise, he did. He stopped and whipped his head around, looking up at you. And despite the position he was in, he smiled so big when he saw you.

"Love! I mis-"

"PARK SEONGHWA, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" You screamed again, starting to run as carefully as you could down the slippery fire escape. His face and heart dropped, but he couldn't be surprised.

As you made your way down to the ground, his would be victim had escaped. And as he ran off, you saw the Seonghwa that had been doing all this.

Dead, dark eyes stared him down as he left. He had a blade in his hand, his shaking hands. His was face twisted into an anger you'd never seen. Not anger, rage. It scared you, it terrified you.

How could this be the man you'd left behind all those months ago?

Seonghwa looked at you, and the monster of rage disappeared. His eyes were bright, his face was soft. He put the blade away as he properly turned to you.

But neither of you said anything. You had too many words to say to him. He had no way to explain himself.

More than anything, you wanted to hug him. You wanted to tell him you still loved him, you missed him, you wanted to go home with him. But now you knew their was this angry, evil dark side of him.

You didn't know if you felt safe with him.

So you asked the one question that'd been in your mind since this started:

"Why?"

And Seonghwa opened his mouth to answer you, but nothing came out. He started thinking, then closed his mouth.

A few seconds later, he burst into sobs and dropped to his knees, covering his face with his hands.

What had he done? What had he become? He wasn't anything like he wanted to be. A murderer. Vengeful.

Selfish.

His selflessness wasn't appreciated by this world, by the people in it. He'd hated it, hated those who took him and used him, who made the world seem so much darker and crueler than he'd ever seen.

And what did he do? He made it worse. He took lives. Hurt people. Hurt himself.

It was true. Revenge is a fruitless, endless road that will bring you nothing but emptiness.

You knelt in front of him and pulled Seonghwa's hands away from his face. He stared at the ground, still sobbing.

"I was tired," he finally rasped out.

"Tired?" You said, exasperated. You felt anger start to bubble up inside you. "All this because you were tired? All this murder and-"

"I was tired of being used!" Seonghwa sobbed, gripping onto his own jacket.

The rain was coming down harder now. Buckets of water were pouring over the both of you, your clothes completely soaked through.

"I did so much SO MUCH, and I never got anything! No one told me if they appreciated me, if they loved me, if they even liked me!"

Seonghwa was shaking now, his words coming out as broken gasps and sobs.

"I gave so much love! So much love to selfish people who wasted it! Just once, I wanted someone to tell me I was good, that I was okay, to prove the world wasn't such an awful, cruel, disgusting-"

You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tighter than you'd ever hugged him. Seonghwa didn't skip a beat, he hugged you back and cried into your neck.

The love he'd been begging for was here. The touch he'd been craving. And oh, it felt better than he could've ever imagined.

"You are good, Seonghwa," you whispered. "You are good, you are kind, you are loving." You choked back your own tears as you spoke.

You hated the world for what it had turned your boyfriend into. Your sweet and selfless boyfriend had become a monster.

And it could've all been prevented from a hug. A simple recognition that he was loved. Wanted. Needed.

"I love you, Seonghwa," you whispered.

He hugged you tighter and bawled like a baby.

The world cried with you both. Buckets of rain, drenching you both, thunder shaking the buildings and lightening showing flashes of the sun in the night.

It could've been hours that you were in each other's arms, on the ground in the alley. It could've been days. Time wasn't important.

But you both knew you had to run. You abandoned your training for him. You saw what he'd become without you.

As you stepped back into Seonghwa's house, he hugged you tight again, from the back, nuzzling into your rain soaked skin.

"Thank you," he whimpered. "Thank you...for taking care of me."

You turned around in his arms and held his face with both your hands. Seonghwa's eyes were as you remembered them. Big, round, soft, gentle. They held the moon and stars in them.

You wiped the tears and rain off his cheeks. "Anything for you, Mommy."

Oof, that was a lot. I felt a lot of myself in that, I've been feeling underappreciated lately too.

I hope this wasn't too far off from what you wanted, @peppermintlattelover, I tried to stay in-line with the prompt as best I could. The more I wrote, the more I liked where it was going, but I hope you like it too.

With that being said, thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

#ateez #seonghwa #ateez ff #seonghwa ff #angst #fluff #ateez fanfic #seonghwa fanfic

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witchthewriter · 9 months

Text

𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐡𝐞𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐲 & 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: swears

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

gif credit: @rebecca-quin.

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You had been taking Barbie to see the new toys in your closest mall. She instantly went to the doll section, where there were many Barbies (that made her nostalgic) lining the aisles.

"Oh! They've come out with a new one! Oh we so have to show Mami this one-" Barbie said as she took a box from the shelf and showed it to you.

・The box said in big purple letters: 'Barbie as a wrestler!' And it had her alter identity - a purple wig with make-up you could add onto her, it also came with the championship belt along with other accessories.

・Both of you were excited out of your minds, and couldn't wait to send a photo to Rhea

・Rhea was currently in another state, probably in the gym. You both went to as many matches as possible, but sometimes Rhea had to travel just to film scenes

・And yes, you both call Rhea, 'Mami,' it's like a proper nickname. Any weirdness has been erased from it

・Barbie cries while watching nearly every movie - even lighthearted ones.

・When your relationship was first beginning to solidify, Barbie said that she wanted to experience the whole of being a human. (Even though you shook your head).

・To Rhea, that meant taking Barbie on every rollercoaster???

・To you, it meant a lot of sightseeing and listening to people's stories and histories.

・You three like to travel together; Rhea always has everyone's luggage under control, you have everyone's passports, and Barbie makes sure everyone has sunscreen on/has drunk water/gone to the toilet

・You honestly make a great team

・And although Barbie could be thought of as a stereotypical dumb blonde who is inexperienced and a lost puppy - it's far from the truth. She's a quick learner, very kind, open-minded and adores animals.

・It was actually Rhea who put a stop to Barbie's endless adoptions. Because she would save animals who were due to be put down because no one wanted them. But she got too emotional when they got hurt or had to go to the vet (she gets attached to things very easily).

・Dom is a tad jealous of the relationship you have with Rhea. But again, you and Barbie let him fawn all over her during the WWE episodes.

・He's a pretty cool guy though, and has invited you to a few of the WWE parties

・Finn is polite, but doesn't really talk to you guys much. Damien is different though, he's very inclusive and loves seeing you two with Rhea.

・He calls you and Barbie his "best girls!"

・So, all in all, Judgement Day approves of you - not like Rhea would care if they didn't (they would not go against her ... ever)

・Barbie is a nose booper

・Rhea was actually the first person to say "I love you"

・Barbie has bandaids on her ALWAYS

・You try and keep your relationship on the DL when in public - for many reasons actually. Rhea has fans, and you don't want to bring too much attention to the fact that Rhea and Dom aren't actually together. And you don't want attention from the public - Barbie definitely doesn't. The thought actually causes her to hyperventilate.

・You and Barbie have scary dog privilege with Rhea - no one fucks with you.

・Rhea actually hates being in small areas - she's a bit claustrophobic

・You and Rhea let Barbie practice make up on you. She's ... getting better at it ...

・You're the blanket hog btw - Barbie and Rhea always whine when you roll up in the blanket

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Style (cover) by Ryan Adams

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Black Cat (You) x Golden Retriever (Barbie) x Doberman (Rhea)

The Impulsive (Rhea) x The Chaotic (You) x The Unheeded Voice of Reason (Barbie - surprisingly)

Makes A Mess (Rhea) x Cleans The Mess (You) x Is A Mess (Barbie)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Secret Dating

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞 no one under 18 past this point!

・It took a while for all three of you to figure out how sex was going to play out

・It took Barbie a while to understand her own body, so neither you or Rhea pushed her. You were both patient in letting her discover herself.

・But Barbie knew she liked women...

・A lot

・When entering the human world and deciding to stay, Barbie's body changed. So she does have a vagina

・And she very much likes to receive head. That's one of the things she's adamant about liking. She may still be discovering things - but Barbie loves head

・Rhea is a dominant person, but also likes to be dominated. Ironically, Barbie really likes to dominate and you're a big switch.

・Barbie likes to sit on Rhea's lap and nuzzle into her cleavage - pretty much making her a boobs gal, but she does like to check out your ass's every now and then

・Rhea is ass over boobs, it's why hers is so ... supple

・The bedroom is the best place to do sexual things as a throuple

・You guys have tried the shower (someone always got too cold), the bath (not all of you fit), the car (same thing - it was too difficult to manuever), toilet stall in the airport (way too sus with three people)

・So it's the best at home, where you have a lot of space to move

・Barbie makes very sexy moans; when she's about to cum, she makes a loud whine that is the prettiest noise

・Rhea LOVES dirty talk

"Whose in charge?" You growl in Rhea's ear as Barbie grabs and kneads Rhea's ass

"You are," she rasps

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 7 months

Text

Round 4 Match 15

propaganda below the cut! (massive wall of text warning)

Tracy Chapman:

"I can’t think of anything clever to say because I’m too busy sighing dreamily"

"GUYS ITS FUCKING TRACY CHAPMAN VOTE FOR HER OR ELSE ILL EAT PLAYDOUGH"

"Tracy Chapman made the best song of all time (fast car)"

"ik im the hope sandoval guy but if hope doesn't make it tracy has to she made me realize i was a lesbian i just thought i was bi then i listened to her and now im a lesbian she is powerful she is strength if you looked at her and looked at my art you would see 20 years of inspiration from one single woman"

"she's too good to commit atrocities to me but im the gore guy and you aren't for that. i would let her take out my vocal chords and use them as floss. i would have her saw down my bones to make a vinyl of her music. i would go on all fours and let her slaughter me like a pig. i want to be her cat"

"The most powerful written and performed voice of the 90s. Everyone, of any nationality or belief system, could feel the words Tracy Chapman sang. She gets her dues but deserves even more."

Stephen Malkmus:

"i can't even stand stephen malkmus but there's a very special girl out there who needs this win"

"My perpetually stoned, nonsensical girlfriend...if we don't invent the time machine soon I might die. He's like 6 ft tall so unfortunately I'd be like one of those birds that ride on giraffes and eat bugs out of their fur. And then I'd die in a weed accident during the recording of Wowee Zowee? Before that though I'd spend 25 hrs a day in bed with him. Alright thanks"

"Stephen Malkmus chronically addicted to moaning and gasping in Pavement songs like he’s getting the best dicking down of his life in the back of the tour bus while everyone else is asleep"

"This is the indie-label match, right? Then it has to be Malkmus, he *made* the scene. And he's still releasing excellent music today. He's just the most influential rockstar of the 90s."

"my gay pavement fan uncle gets out of prison tonight and he knows you ratted him out in '06. the only way to make this right is to vote for stephen"

"Pretty please vote for him, my friend loves him and he really wants him to win"

""There were times he refused to speak to his bandmates, pulling a jacket over his head and referring to himself as "the little bitch"." I have also heard him refer to himself as a brat, a queen, a primadonna, a sociopath, and a narcissist. All of these descriptors have made me want to slam him against a wall and turn his neck fun new colors."

"I mean, Pavement is THEE indie band of the 90s. The lowkey snark, Koreaaaa, so much style that it's wasted. And Malkmus is an understated cool rockstar: the hair, the face, Silver Jews! He never ever sold out. He's the 90s."

"the most beautiful man ever he looks like a gorgeous fairytale prince. he has been hot since he emerged on the scene and continues to be so as their reunion tour comes to a close. stephen forever"

"we have to consider the autism swagger. find me a pavement write up that doesn’t spend three paragraphs waxing lyrical on his inability to make eye contact. find me a YouTube comment section that doesn’t have hoards of moms swooning over his flat affect. his refusal to wear anything more formal than a flannel for the first decade of his career? genuinely culturally influential. 30 glorious years of expressionless performances. sunglasses in the dark. so many straight men falling over themselves for him they made a joke about it in the Barbie movie. raw tbh sex appeal. and he’s got a great nose"

"he had a couple of unfortunate haircuts during this period but highkey i would break both of my arms to just be able to make out with him. please vote for SM my life is in danger if you don't"

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #90s music #tournament #tracy chapman #stephen malkmus #pavement

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dadsbongos · 2 years

Text

skipping through a john hughes' movie

8.3K words

warnings - reader has major anxiety (but it’s the 80s so people just call you insane), speedrun friends to enemies to lovers, allusions to children-having but no actual kids or anything

summary - Your Home Economics teacher assigns a project - take care of an egg for a full week and present your report on it. You assumed it would be a solo project, so imagine the surprise when your golden-girl cheerleading ass was paired with Eddie “the freak” Munson. At least your best friend, Chrissy, seems excited for you. ~~

There was one bright side to Ms. Vin’s painfully boring sixth period Home Ec. class, you and Chrissy were designated seat partners since the beginning of the year. Meaning every project - every quilt, dish, quiz, and assignment in the books - was done as a top-tier team. This one, despite being what you’ll assume is a solo project, is no different.

“So, how’re you gonna decorate your egg?” Chrissy grins, setting her chin into her palm, “I was thinking Barbie meets Madonna but on, like, a really bad bender.”

“I dunno, I might just draw whatever I want on it until time’s up,” you pick up one of Chrissy’s sparkly pens, “Mind if I borrow this?”

She shakes her head and beams at you, “Take whatever you want - my pens are your pens, doll face.”

You glare and she giggles.

“Ick,” you uncap the pen and lean back into your chair, taking the violently shiny pink pigment to your skin and doodling a flower over your thumb, “Ick, I say, Chris.”

Meanwhile, Eddie is busy braiding a section of his bangs while Gareth draws on their shared table.

“Honestly, I don’t even think I should do it,” Gareth murmurs.

“Do what?” Eddie pauses, finally realizing his poor friend had actually been talking to him.

“Were you not listening?” Eddie shakes his head, “Jesus. I was saying that my sister wants my egg when we’re done with this whole thing, but I don’t think I should give it to her. She’s just gonna put it under someone’s pillow or some shit.”

Eddie nods solemnly, watching as Ms. Vic begins handing out eggs, “At least you’ll pass, man. Knowing my luck, it’ll slip right outta my hands the second I grab it,” then he points at the table right in front of them - yours and Chrissy’s table, “Only good thing about this being a solo project is I don’t have to worry about fucking up someone’s grade.”

Since the beginning of your senior year, you’ve felt it. The stares. You’ve heard them - the whispers. And it certainly doesn’t help when people like Eddie Munson don’t shy away from mentioning it.

Chrissy side-eyes Eddie and no matter how much she may enjoy his presence, she can’t excuse him now. She lays a hand to your shoulder, “Hey, he’s, like, the only person who talks about it.”

“But everyone thinks it,” you meet Chrissy’s eyes and don’t notice that Ms. Vic is only leaving one egg per table, “Everyone’s just weird around me.”

Everyone except Chrissy.

You were always quiet in the crowd, and that’s mostly because you hate crowds. But it’s also because of the incident last year - being quieter means less people notice you which means less people talk about you which means eventually the incident stops getting brought up. Unless it’s a group as vindictive as Eddie and his band of freaks.

“So, many of you already know what this project is about, but I just want to go over it again. Just in case,” Ms. Vic stands at the front of the room, an empty carton of eggs in one hand and the other beginning to write on the chalkboard, “This will be a paired project, not a solo like I’ve been hearing!” you and Chrissy smile at one another while Eddie and Gareth share a nod (though with a lot of groaning and mumbling from Eddie), “You’ll have one egg to care for from this point until class next Monday. Then, your team will have to present to the class your method of caretaking, why you decorated your egg the way you did, any mishaps and accidents, and so on and so forth. I will then grade your pair by both presentation and how roughed up your egg is.”

She steps away from the board to reveal a list of names. And there’s something hot in your veins, freezing cold on your skin when you see your name.

You pray to God, but He isn’t there - and part of you now thinks He never was.

“These will be the pairs! Go ahead and move to sit by your partner!”

Your jaw drops and there’s a raucous from behind - Eddie laughing, “No fuckin’ way!”

“Mr. Munson,” Ms. Vic snaps, “we don’t use that language in school! I don’t care if you’re older than the other students.”

Eddie merely mutters under his breath while you put your head in your hands, “That felt uncalled for.”

Your name is right there on the chalkboard - right there, right next to Edward Munson in thick, unforgiving white chalk.

MONDAY

Your name is right there on the chalkboard - right there, right next to Edward Munson in thick, unforgiving white chalk.

Chrissy hisses as though your partner stings her and pats your shoulder, “Sorry, girl. Good luck.”

“Easy for you to say,” you groan.

Chrissy got paired with the chess club captain - Corey Watts. A sweetheart who’s the easiest, most agreeable person to work with since a corpse.

There’s a clang and screech and squeak of metal scratching linoleum, and Eddie has finally slammed himself into the seat beside you.

You straighten up and plaster on a grin, “Hi, Munson.”

“Munson?” he pouts and tilts his head, “Aw, c’mon, I know you’re all pissy about this, but don’t be so cold. We’ve gone to the same school together since we were little, I’d say we’re on a first name basis.”

“I feel more comfortable using ‘Munson’,” you grab the egg and hold it softly, “Unless you prefer Edward?”

He retches, holding his stomach, and you hate how you laugh. It’s a little too loud, you think, but Eddie seems to shine under the sound.

“How do you wanna decorate it?” you hold up the fragile egg.

Eddie holds up a pair of scissors from the table’s tin to his head, “What d’ya think, sweets? Wanna give the little tyke his daddy’s hair?”

You gasp and cradle the egg to your chest, “You will do no such thing! That’d be so weird!”

“Yeah, that’s the whole point,” he sets down the scissors and holds out a hand for the egg, “You can pretend it wouldn’t be fun all you want, I know you would’ve laughed.”

“I would’ve gagged when you made the whole room smell like burnt hair,” you point across the classroom to the counter that holds the hot glue guns.

“Fine, what about James Hetfield?” he suggests, kicking his feet up onto the table.

You swat his shin and furrow your brows, “Who the hell is James Hetfield?”

His big eyes widen impossibly further, “Oh my God,” he looks at you like you said the ocean was neon pink, “you’re so out of the loop it’s fucking insane.”

“If he’s from one of your bands then I’m not out of the loop,” you roll your eyes, “It’s just not my thing.”

“Metallica should be everyone’s thing,” he plucks the egg from your grasp, where it was still pressed gently to your chest, “I’ll show you later. Just say ‘yes’ so we don’t have to fight in front of the baby.”

“Fine, fine, but you’re gonna have to do it yourself, ‘cuz I don’t know who James Hetfield is,” you lean forward, resting your cheek on the table, “And you’re gonna show me what? Metallica?”

“Hell yeah,” he says it like you should already know the answer, “you’re missing out, sweetheart.”

“You’re nuts, Munson.”

If he were just a little more comfortable, he’d call you nuts. But Chrissy is burning a hole into the side of his head and even if he doesn’t feel that close to you, she’s his friend (even if it’s secret) and he doesn’t like hurting his friends. So he lets it slide and passes you the egg with the promise to retrieve a couple googly eyes and a hot glue gun.

He makes you glue the eyes on, not that you really trusted Eddie Munson with such a task - he might actually try gluing his hair on if you did.

But you can feel it - his eyes on you. Not your hands, but your face; your tongue between your teeth - a habit for when you’re trying to focus.

“Why’re you staring, Munson? Last I checked, I’m not the one who reeks of cigarettes,” your eyes draw to his and you grin sardonically, “Gross, by the way.”

Eddie’s twirling a piece of hair in front of his mouth but you can see the way his lips are pulled high - the way his eyes crinkle with the tellings of a smile, “Your teeth are sharp.”

“Huh?” you rear back, laughing half in earnest and half in shock.

“Your canines,” he nudges his head towards yours, “they’re sharp.”

“Yeah, they’re canines! Obviously, they’re gonna be sharp.”

“But they’re sharp like mine,” he lowers his hair and opens his mouth as if you would inspect his teeth, “Two freaks with stupidly sharp canine teeth.”

A couple of people stare following your outburst, but you can’t bring yourself to care much. Not when Eddie’s hunched over, brows scrunched and tongue out in concentration as he now tries coloring the egg in black marker like it’s wearing clothes.

“You should probably take it home,” Eddie hands you the egg and you reach into the pile of yarn he’d gotten for hair, “I don’t trust myself to not lose it.”

“Sure,” you’re a little surprised at how down-to-earth Eddie seems, considering what all your peers had said about him, “and then switch off between classes? Just so one person isn’t doing all the work.”

Clearing a spot on the table, Eddie lays his head down and nods, “I’m fuckin’ exhausted already.”

He’s right. It’s a little too peaceful. Nothing like your usual crowd (not that you’re all too enamored with the loudmouths of your usual crowd).

“I think you should take the egg during lunch no matter what, though,” you hiss when some hot glue touches the pad of your finger and that sends Eddie sitting straight up, “My table’s riddled with jocks, so I think he’ll survive at yours. Just try not to step on him during your table rants.”

“That was only three times,” he huffs jokingly before taking the hand you burned, “Lemme see.”

“It’s fine,” you’re almost tempted to rip your hand away, but more than that - you want him to keep it. His palm is warm and, despite the calluses, feels nice against yours. Weird.

“Just don’t want our princess hurt,” he releases your hand, “Looks fine. Shouldn’t scar.”

“Yeah, I figure,” the bell rings and you shoot up from your seat, “Uh, sorry- do you mind taking him now? My next hour is taken up by cheer practice.”

“Thought you guys practiced after school,” he’s whining but he holds his hand out for the egg anyway.

“It’s either more practice or regular gym and the regular gym coach scares me.”

Eddie hates to admit it, but the golden girl, golden cheerleader, golden little smile you shoot him would’ve made him agree no matter what.

TUESDAY

“Fiskle is a good partner,” Gareth, weirdly enough, isn’t complaining about a project as he speaks to the lunch table, “Said she’d take care of the egg the whole time, I just have to write up the presentation.”

“I’m not looking forward to taking care of an egg,” Dustin shakes his head, “Sounds nerve-wracking and boring at the same time.”

“It is,” Gareth nudges his head towards the head of their lunch table - to a suspiciously silent DM, “Eddie got paired with the psycho cheerleader.”

Mike and Dustin glance at each other, confused, then turn to stare at the cheerleaders.

“Oh, shit,” Jeff laughs at the freshmen, “you guys don’t know.”

“Know what?” Mike tosses up his hands, a brow quirked, “They all look normal.”

“Bland, even,” Dustin agrees.

“People don’t even talk about it that much,” Grant takes a glance at you from his peripheral.

“But why shouldn’t they?” Gareth’s eyes narrow, “‘Cuz why does she get to go around like that and it’s all good, but we just like a game and we’re nutbag cultists?”

“Well, what the fuck happened?” Mike throws a fry at Gareth, “Stop stalling ‘n’ tell us.”

Eddie sighs, loud and heavy, and finally looks up from your shared egg. He can see a smudge of glittery pink pen over the face, and he hates how it makes him think of you. And he hates that every time he thinks of you, he has to justify it - only to himself and only because he isn’t big enough to admit that he finds a cheerleader pretty. Still.

“You want to know the tale of the nutso cheerleader, young paladin?” Eddie looks at Mike, then Dustin, “It’s a harrowing story, not for the faint of heart. Or children.”

“Get on with it,” Mike jeers, throwing yet another fry.

“Get on with it,” Chrissy teases, pinching your arm, “You’re so adorable when you lie to yourself.”

“Shut up,” you huff, “I’m serious, though. Sure, Munson’s not that bad, but it isn’t like we’re gonna be friends.”

She sets you with a pointed look, “It’s totally possible, though.”

“As if.”

“Well, I think it’s for sure,” Chrissy’s eyes fly past you and an impish grin raises to her lips, “His little minions are staring at you pretty hardcore.”

If you hadn’t turned - oh, if only you hadn’t turned - then nobody else would’ve noticed. Andy wouldn’t have noticed and turned to Patrick who turned to Jason Carver.

Jason is Jason and Jason is an asshole, so he stands from his seat and squares his shoulders like he’s really about to fight a pair of freshmen just for looking at cheerleaders. You wouldn’t put it past him, though.

“Jason,” Chrissy whispers, “c’mon, don’t.”

But Jason doesn’t listen well, “What’re you freaks staring at?!”

Immediately, Mike and Dustin go pale - snapping their bodies back into their original position. Eddie’s hands settle on the table, ready to stand.

You reach out and grab Jason by the sleeve, “It’s not a big deal, Carver, just leave them be. They’re kids.”

“They’re old enough to know staring isn’t polite,” Jason’s loud enough for them to hear and you hate seeing how the boys flinch, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think they’re planning something.”

“They’re- “ you groan and stand, pushing Jason back by the chest, “It’s fine, Jason. Seriously. Leave them alone. Please.”

Jason is an ass, but he always thinks he’s doing what’s right. Sees himself as a knight in shining armor - little does he know, all the joints are rusting and everyone cowers under his fist. His brows draw and he frowns, “What if they hurt you?”

“They’re kids,” you toss up your hands in exasperation, “I’m fine, Jason. You’re just making a scene.”

Chrissy stands as well, her lithe hands settlinh on her boyfriend’s shoulders, “Yeah, just sit back down and enjoy lunch, okay? They didn’t mean anything by it.”

Jason waits. One second. Five seconds. Ten uncomfortable seconds pass before he relents and takes his seat at the table. You watch Eddie settle back into his seat and you don’t get the same opportunity before the bell suddenly rings.

Hellfire files out of the cafeteria quicker than usual and you can assume why. Jason is hot on their tale, Chrissy hot on his. You meet Eddie at his table and wave.

He takes up his bag and holds out your egg, “Thank you, sweet princess, for extending your neck in the name of a couple freaks.”

You roll your eyes at his sarcastic tone, “Yeah, okay. I think more people should.”

He agrees. He’s only unwilling to thank you sincerely because while he does appreciate it - it’s what you should do, right? Yes, it’s kind, but there’s that undeniable part of him that grows increasingly bitter about how only Chrissy stood up with you. But it’s easier to play up the part of the freak than be vulnerable with someone like you (a stranger, a cheerleader - same difference).

“Wow, you’re a regular Josie, aren’t you?”

You tense and his eyes anxiously fly to your face, but you’re smiling. Big and bright as you hold the egg carefully.

“You good?” he tilts his head, smile nothing if not mocking.

“Sorry, I’m just…” you giggle, fit with nerves and insecurity, “I loved Josie and the Pussycats - I hated that it ended.”

“Aw,” he pouts and the two of you finally exit the cafeteria, “that must’ve been tragic for you.”

“It was. My little 3-year-old self couldn’t get out of bed. And then when I got older and rewatched it, I was just as inconsolable.”

“Oh? And when’s the last time you watched Ms. Josie and her rock band of the ages?”

“Last week.”

You like his laugh. And his smile. It’s sweeter than what the jocks pull - a whole lot sweeter.

The minute bell rings and Eddie decides to swallow his pride - a consolation prize for Josie and the Pussycats ending.

“Thanks again, I really didn’t feel like getting my ass suspended defending those little shits,” Eddie scratches the side of his nose.

You shrug off the gratitude, “‘s no big deal, Eddie,” he hates the giddy in his chest when his name flows from your mouth, “It’s fine, honestly. You know, everyone thinks I’m, like, some superficial bitch. Or whatever.”

Eddie smiles, cat-that-ate-the-canary and snarky, “Yeah.”

“Oh my God,” you grab his arm and gasp, “I thought you were against the system!”

“I am!” a spark flutters through the arm you’re holding, even under the leather jacket, “Until it proves me right.”

You huff and grin and wave him off. Your cheer skirt flutters as you turn and walk down the hall, but your voice echoes through the walls,

“Dick!”

The bell for class to begin shrills and Eddie just watches you go. He’s ashamed of falling into the stereotype - but then again, he’s a super senior that deals drugs, so that isn’t actually new, is it?

WEDNESDAY

Five minutes. You’re trying not to freak out. You’re five minutes late.

Sorry, Chrissy mouths, frowning.

Five minutes ago, you were supposed to meet Eddie at his van so you could take your egg home, and cheer practice was nowhere near done. Despite being captain, Chrissy didn’t really call the shots of when to end practice and you can’t blame her.

None of the girls notice you’re anxiously glancing at the clock every other second, and honestly, if they did, you doubt they would care.

Then, the doors slam open - each girl jumps and attention snaps to the jingling chains and clanking rings that storm through. A circus of boos ring around the gym and Chelsea Rivers even throws a pom-pom at poor Eddie.

But in true Munson fashion, he catches it with the hand not holding your egg and holds it above his head - muttering as if in prayer and tossing it back.

“What’d you do, freak?” Chelsea jumps away from the pom-pom, it tumbles and the tassels just barely brush her sneaker.

“Just some casual demonic ritual, don’t worry about it!” he cheers, blowing a kiss when Chelsea kicks the pom-pom away.

“He’s fucking with you,” you pick up the pom-pom and hand it to Chelsea, then calling to the rest of the squad, “Chill out, girls, he’s here for me!”

Eddie kneels as you approach, presenting the egg as though it’s a prize on a game show.

“Thanks,” you wring your hands, “Uh, practice should be over soon, but I totally get it if you just wanna leave the egg here ‘n’ go.”

“No, no,” he holds the egg to his chest when you try to grab it and sits back on the bleachers, “I will be patient and celebratory of your cheer duties, as I should be.”

“If you insist,” you bow and that’s how you know you’re starting to spend a little too much time with Eddie for the sake of a project, “then I guess I just have to give a proper show.”

Eddie’s loud as he watches you all. Every stunt - back handspring, round-off, pike, tumble - no matter how repeated, earns you a ‘woo!’ and banging on the bleacher.

“Eddie,” you wave him off, grinning, “Seriously, you’re being distracting.”

“I’m being supportive,” he points to where the egg is now nestled on his bundled-up leather jacket beside him, “Now stop whining and be the mom he can be proud of.”

You flip him off and he gasps, covering the egg’s googly eyes.

Chelsea leans close and while Eddie can’t hear her whispers, he already knows what she’s saying. He’s been down this road and it always leads to the same dead end. She moves away, eyes flickering between you and Eddie and he can’t help but groan.

You pull back from Chelsea, eyes narrowed, “Huh?”

“I said,” she crosses her arms, “is he making you uncomfortable?”

If it were Jason here for Chrissy, nobody would be saying anything. And you’re perplexed until you remember who Eddie is to these people, and you don’t understand how they can think that until you remember you used to believe it, too. Maybe not to the full extent they do, but it isn’t like you ever approached him in the halls.

You were even initially mortified to be working with him, and now you’re giggling at his jests.

Eddie stands and you watch him until you can find your muscles again. You rush to him without responding to Chelsea and you can hear the questions that the other girls are raising behind you.

Maybe if people see how much you actually enjoy being his project partner, they’ll get over themselves.

But the most cynical part of you doubts it.

“Hey,” your hand wraps around his, your lips tugged in a frown and Eddie has to look away lest he be tempted to fix it, “you don’t have to go, y’know?”

The way you’re pouting at him is dangerous. It reminds him of sick, twisted feelings. Reminds him of the stereotype he is - where the freak falls for the cheerleader that’s nice to him. Reminds him of just how badly he wants to kiss you under the bleachers he hides under during pep rallies (‘cuz of course, who wouldn’t? You’re a cheerleader. A gorgeous, competent, kind cheerleader).

It’s dangerous because it’s unreal and it makes him overthink. If he can’t do so much as get the girl, how will any of his other dreams come to fruition?

So Eddie just laughs, “I’m not very welcomed.”

“Well, what if I want you here?” you look down at your white sneakers while he stares - wide-eyed and sweet - at you, “Hate to admit it, Munson, but maybe your hollering is good for something.”

“In that case…” he glances at the lone egg on the bleachers, to your squad, to you. You, sweet and smart and so, so unattainable, “if I must be a cheerleader’s cheerleader, then how could I ever refuse?”

THURSDAY

Ms. Vic’s sixth hour Home Ec. class has gotten more interesting since Eddie’s been your seat partner.

“Not a single dick on this desk,” Eddie ‘tsk’s and shakes his head, “Shameful. What the hell do you and Cunningham even do over here?”

“We talk, like friends do,” you rub a thumb over the smooth shell of the egg as Ms. Vic passes out a packet to each pair, “Is that what you and Gareth do? Draw dicks all over the table like children?”

Eddie hums and leans over as if to check, “Yep. And demons. Sometimes both at once.”

“Dick demons?”

There’s a lull as Ms. Vic comes by to set down your team’s packet.

When she’s gone, Eddie nods curtly, “Demons’ dicks.”

“Gross,” you open the packet.

It seems straightforward. One column for mishaps. One for cracks. One for shatters.

Obviously your egg hasn’t shattered.

“Check for cracks, please?” you pass the egg to Eddie.

“Just mark whatever you want, it’s not like she’s actually looking at it.”

“No way, if we don’t properly do this and then later she catches us in a lie, we’re…” you shake your head and wave your hands about, “It’s just not gonna happen. I’m not lying on an assignment, Eddie. Now stop whining and inspect the egg.”

“Fine, here you go, sweetheart,” he makes a show of himself, what else is new? He hums and nods and ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s, “Yeah, we’re clear.”

“Har, har,” you take the egg to double-check it.

“Oh my God, do you distrust me that much?”

“Yeah.”

“Cold-blooded!” Eddie rocks his head back, “How could you, sweet princess?”

“Easily.”

Gareth watches in terror, only because he’s known Eddie for a long, long time. He’s seen Eddie get crushes and he can tell that the crush he had on you last year is striking again at full force. He’s seen the way light dies a little in Eddie’s eyes when he sees the guys you hang out with - not out of jealousy, but realization. Eddie always gets his hopes up and then remembers how different you two are. How different your circles are. He’s seen the more bold girls come and fuck with Eddie for free weed, and he’s seen how it hurts the poor bastard (not that said poor bastard would ever admit it).

Chrissy, meanwhile, watches in glee because she can see how much you’re enjoying yourself. She likes that you’ve made another friend - an actual friend - outside the circle jerk of jocks and preps. A friend who isn’t judging you for being the “psycho cheerleader”.

FRIDAY

A regional cheer competition was the talk of Hawkins High. Until seventh period, the cheer squad was gone and everyone who actually cared about where they were was overcome with concerns about if they would win. Hawkins had a reputation of flailing last minute when it came to stuff like this and Coach G was increasingly - visibly - sick of it.

Hellfire never cared for that, or at least they didn’t until Eddie was just staring at the jocks’ lunch table for something other than trying to rile them up.

Eddie finds it unrelentingly bizarre how miserable he feels. He hates the ball of muck and tar that’s collected in his chest - sticky and thick and aching. He knows you’ll be back by the end of the day, but that doesn’t mean his stupid heart doesn’t clench at your current absence any less.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

The other guys have noticed it, too. The table is quieter than usual because nobody’s prodding Eddie and he isn’t leaping for interaction either. It’s weird.

Eddie’s not dumb, though. He knows why he misses you. He knows why it stings to see a you-sized gaping hole at the table.

Gareth knows, too, and that only makes him more nervous.

SATURDAY

“I brought the egg,” you pull the fragile thing from your shirt’s front pocket, “Figured you’d wanna see your son.”

“Aren’t you adorable,” Eddie pushes open his trailer door and takes the egg, “Thanks, Mama.”

“Don’t call me that,” you’re hot in the face and your giggle is nervous. You aren’t dumb enough to not know that he’s why.

“Aw, why?” he leans in close, lips wide and teeth on display.

“‘s intimate,” you whisper it like it’ll burn you to be uttered.

“You’re precious,” Eddie nudges his head further into the trailer, “My room’s down here.”

You see a familiar body in the kitchen of the trailer, though; making coffee for his thermos before heading off to a grueling shift at work.

“Hey, Mr. Wayne!”

He turns and waves and that’s enough from such a naturally stoic guy, “Just Wayne, girl, you know that.”

“Didn’t know you two were friends,” Eddie holds open his bedroom door for you, eyes fluttering between you and his uncle, “How’d you meet?”

“We’re not friends,” you shrug, “And we just see each other for volunteer work: cleaning up waste ‘n’ stuff. He usually gets stuck with Chrissy and I because he doesn’t bother getting into other teams and nobody likes working with teenagers.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get sweeter.”

Your eyes trail after Eddie as he hurriedly picks up scattered items on his floor. His shirt rises from time to time. Sometimes there’s a peek of the course, dark hair on his tummy that leads to his jeans and sometimes there’s a view of his boxers. You just try to be respectful - eyes slamming to the clock he keeps on his nightstand, then the handcuffs right by his bed.

“Volunteer work is, like, completely mandatory for the cheer squad, Eds.”

He shrugs and pretends his heart didn’t clench at the precious nickname on your tongue, “But you could volunteer anywhere, and you choose waste cleanup.”

“It’s not even that big a deal, we aren’t even doing actual work with the waste, we clean up the aftermath of other cleanups. We’re the just-in-case crew.”

“Still,” he insists, “so cute, I could eat you up.”

“Shush, hush,” you swat at Eddie and step over a twisted, tossed shirt left behind in his bedroom’s doorway, “Anyway, handcuffs?”

Eddie immediately grabs the cuffs and throws them into his overstuffed laundry basket, “You’re delusional. You never saw any handcuffs.”

“I think that’s manipulation,” you pluck the egg from his hands and look around the room. It’s still messy, but you don’t think any other room would fit Eddie, and you don’t think you’d want to be in any room that wasn’t Eddie’s.

Then you see it. Right on his desk. Next to the ashtray and dust-ridden sunglasses that look two-sizes too small for his head.

“Uhh,” you pick up the small blue box and shake it by your head, “had big plans for tonight, Munson?”

Eddie’s eyes are wide at the box of condoms in your hand. You can see endless possibilities in those baby browns - actions, words, every response he has planned. Irreverent denial, acceptance, laughter, joking insistence. But eventually, he settles to square his jaw and his eyes are back to usual.

He nods curtly and folds his arms, “Yes, princess, I brought you to my trailer after saying we should go to your house and then intentionally parade myself for an ass kicking by hooking up with the state’s golden girl.”

“I am not the state’s golden girl,” your nervous breakdown last year soiled such a title for the rest of your life.

“And why not?”

“As if you don’t know what happened.”

He does but he keeps quiet. Shrugs. Throws himself onto his bed and smiles when you kneel on the mattress next to him.

“Who cares? ‘s not like anybody important even talks about it.”

He’s instantly smacked with guilt, but then again, he’s nobody important - not at all. Not until you’re giggling at him.

“Yeah, whatever,” you lay the egg in your lap and watch it tilt, rock, then balance, “Imagine if this was a real baby, it would not be this well off.”

“I dunno, I’d think baby Munson would love watching you practice your, uh,” he blinks up at the ceiling and waves his arms out wide with flair, loose and flimsy, “jumps and kicks.”

“I think baby Munson would get used for football practice by Jason ‘n’ his goons,” you turn to Eddie as he smiles and it brings one out of you, too. You raise a hand and make it look like you’re palming a football, “His soft spot would look gnarly as hell, though.”

You like the way Eddie laughs at your jokes. Your jokes usually fall flat with your friends.

You once heard that in order to find someone funny, you first have to find them smart enough to be capable of making a joke. And if Eddie’s enjoying himself this much at a simple jab, then he must think you’re some kind of Einstein. Or perhaps he’s just that willing to freely enjoy himself.

Either way, you like it.

SUNDAY

You know that feeling you get when you’re walking up to a group of people and they instantly stop talking, and you know they were talking about you?

What’s worse than that?

When they don’t see you coming and don’t stop talking.

You can see it in their faces that you weren’t supposed to hear what they were saying, but they shouldn’t have been saying it in the first place.

In a handful of measly minutes, the week leading up to now was smashed and you can only watch Eddie’s cheeks flush in embarrassment. Then it drops into realization.

A handful of minutes ago, you were first walking into Eddie’s trailer to finish up the presentation you two started yesterday. The door was unlocked and you could hear him and his friends in his room - the door was cracked just enough for you to hear them when you got close. Before you get to open the door, you hear your name.

You freeze and the hum of Eddie’s guitar pauses.

“What?”

“I’m just saying,” Gareth tenses, looking between Eddie to Mike and Dustin, “you need to back off your partner,” when all Eddie does is stare like he’d heard the date of his own death, Gareth continues, “I get it, you know, she’s nice and all but come on… you know better than that. She’s a walking hazard sign.”

Eddie looks over to Dustin and Mike - for assurance, support, affirmation, he isn’t completely sure - and they only look away.

Gareth puts up three fingers, “She’s a cheerleader, it’d never work out, your social standings are way too different,” his ring finger goes down, “Even if it did work, you’ll get your ass beat by her family, like, every Tuesday,” his index finger goes down and he’s flipping Eddie off, “She’s completely mental.”

Eddie immediately snaps to attention, body rigid and stiff and hands frozen on his guitar, “She is not mental, Emerson.”

Mike butts in, “I mean… you guys don’t call her the psycho cheerleader for nothing.”

Dustin shrugs, “Not the most intense freakout, but… with all things considered, I don’t know, Eddie.”

He doesn’t know you’re there - silently begging for backup. So he sits back and bites his lip, “Whatever. Fuck you guys.”

Silent defeat.

Silent admission.

His bedroom door creaks as it opens and each head whips around to face you. Egg and papers in one hand, the other wrapped loosely around the knob.

You look defeated, sound defeated, “You what?” your eyes fall to your white sneakers and suddenly the room is just a little too hot, a little too stuffy. Your throat swollen and eyes burning, “I didn’t even think you guys cared about that sort of thing…”

Wasn’t their whole deal about the system being bullshit?

You could understand when Eddie thought you were like the other cheerleaders before you two actually met, but now it was different. He was still actively using a name that burned you when you thought that you two might actually be able to be friends. Maybe more.

You hate that you ever hoped for more.

You hate that you already miss him.

You kick at the floor of Eddie’s cluttered room, “None of the other cheerleaders even call me that. But yeah, they’re two-faced.”

None of them can gather the courage to so much as look at you, even Eddie - who you thought prided himself on being big and loud and unafraid.

You roll your eyes just to hide the disappointment and tears and you’re trying so hard to sound stern, but there’s no way to keep your voice from shaking, “Here’s the egg. Do the final yourself, and if we fail - it’s your ass, Munson… Might go fuckin’ crazy on you or some shit,” you sniffle and laugh dryly, walking away.

Eddie suddenly finds himself and stands just as he hears you mutter a borderline acidic “stupid dick”.

Not that he can even blame you for saying it. He’s dug his grave and when you’re already driving away and he remembers he doesn’t know where you live - he knows that he must lie in it.

His best option - his only option - is to write a good presentation and apologize like hell at school tomorrow. Maybe you’ll forgive him.

Or maybe he’s doomed.

MONDAY

Eddie managed to catch you right at your locker during zero hour.

“Do you think you can just say whatever you want, Munson?” he rears back, eyes wide. You laugh, bitter and dry and only a little teary-eyed, “You think that just because you’ve been screwed over, that gives you the right to turn your back on someone because they’re a cheerleader. You think we’re all the same and you didn’t bother defending me ‘cuz I’m just another cheerleader to you,” he opens his mouth but you put up a finger to shush him, “I bet the people here aren’t even people in your head, are they? We’re just faceless masses that you lump in with the ones that pick on your friends. It’s bullshit, Eddie.”

“And what? You’re so special because you’re what?” he shouldn’t be talking like this - he should just grit his teeth and bow his head, but you’ve struck a chord and he’s never been good at backing down, “You’re… the quiet one, right? That’s your little calling card. You’re the nice one that can smile and laugh at the freak’s jokes and that makes you better than the others.”

“I didn’t say that,” you snap.

“You didn’t have to,” Eddie’s face is stone cold and it’s more unnerving than the worst horror movie, “I’m not a fucking idiot. That’s your schtick. Your gimmick. You’re the sweet one that even the losers like because she sticks up for them, but we’re not friends, and we never would’ve been.”

He should shut up. He needs to shut up. But right now there’s a burning ball of anger and hatred and it’s all at himself and the jocks and the school that would end you if you two did become friends.

“We could’ve been friends,” you stand tall, but your voice wavers just a little. Just enough for him to know you’re insecure, “We really could’ve.”

“Your friends would eat me alive and mine would eat you,” Eddie has to look away, lest he’s swayed into begging forgiveness on his knees at the sight of your crestfallen face, “It’s better like this. No little cheerleader has to get hurt, and I’m just a good memory with a bad ending. That’s how it would’ve gone anyway, now we’re just skipping to the finale of a John Hughes’ movie.”

Chrissy doesn’t recognize the boy in front of her. This isn’t the Eddie that always made her feel safe. This isn’t the Eddie that was always going to be a friend after high school was done. This isn’t the Eddie she’s proud to know.

“Fine,” you shake your head. There’s something inside you that’s screaming - shouting that this is wrong. Your Eddie wouldn’t say this. He isn’t like this, “Do you really think that, or are you just being pissy?”

“We both know I’m just being pissy,” he’s quiet. It’s odd. You hate it.

Chrissy shakes her head and tugs on your arm, “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

If you two leave now, you’ll actually be two minutes early, but you have no idea how to carry on and you’re sure Eddie doesn’t either. So you leave with nothing more than a “Talk to me when you get your head out of your ass, Munson.”, and he doesn’t follow.

It’s like that for the rest of the day, too. Between classes, when you’re meant to be trading the egg - he initially tried not taking it, but it hadn’t worked. Not at all.

With Chrissy, concerned and tender, you’d leave. One arm looped with your cheer captain’s and the other carefully carrying your egg. And when he returns the egg, it’s nothing different.

Only when you’re sat by each other during sixth period Home Economics does he finally get the chance to speak.

“Alright, yeah, I know,” Eddie sighs and reaches into his metal lunchbox and pulls out two slightly torn pieces of loose leaf, “I fucked up, sweets. I know. I’m sorry, really, I’m sorry. What can I do? Just say the word and I’ll do it - whatever you want.”

You take one of the papers he holds and wrinkle your nose at the resounding stench of weed, “Do you keep drugs in there or something, Munson?”

Without hesitation, he nods, “Yeah. I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t think you carried it to class!”

“Never know when an emergency will strike.”

You hate the grin that wants to creep over your face, “You’re an idiot, Edward.”

He grimaces, shaking his head so theatrically, his hair flutters around his shoulders, “I’ll literally let you stab me if you just never call me Edward again.”

“So dramatic,” you swat the boy in the arm and shrug, “And maybe I’ll forgive you, if we ace this presentation,” you hold up your paper and shake it about.

“Then thank God I’m the one who wrote it,” he grumbles.

“I believe in you, Eds,” you punch his shoulder and watch his chest puff up - big and proud.

It deflates as soon as your names are called. Ms. Vic gestures to the floor beside her desk and smiles - kindly and ignorant to the teenage angst festering between you and Eddie.

You clutch the presentation - lips pressed and hands clammy. There’s a burning, aching that lies on your heart - guts entwining and sweat breaking over your skin. Sure, you’re a cheerleader and sure, you’re technically popular, but in no way do you actually enjoy being around throngs of people.

You put up with the pep rallies and the games and the parties and the crowded lunch tables because that��s what’s best for your image. And that’s what’s best for Chrissy’s image. And Chrissy is your best friend and you just want her to be happy and you don’t want her to be stuck with you like you’re stuck in these situations.

Eyes scorch at you and you realize how long you’ve been stalling. God, they must all think you’re a freak. Your knees strike straight and you think you can feel your lunch coming up.

“Uh- “ you clear your throat, shake your head, anything to just rid yourself of this feeling, “The- so…”

Air is short and thin and there’s an overwhelming need to run. You’ve felt like this before. You know it. You deeply know it.

You’ve felt it many times - before every rally and game and party and in front of every single crowd - but only one time has it been this severe.

Last year - second semester, fourth quarter, Mr. Perry’s first hour U.S History class. The second week until the end of school, your parents took you out of Hawkins for a family emergency and just your luck - an exam was taken that day. An exam you couldn’t make up no matter how much you begged and an exam that dropped your A to a C.

When you earned the title of school psycho for flipping your lid on Mr. Perry on the last day of your junior year because you got a C+.

But nobody understood, they really didn’t. It was more. It was different. It was so, so different.

And now you’re practically hyperventilating in front of your classmates and now it isn’t even about the stupid fucking presentation. It’s about knowing that tomorrow you’re gonna get those weird stares and miserable glances. It’s about knowing that no matter what you do and no matter how hard you try - you’ll always be nothing more than Chrissy’s neurotic best friend prone to a nervous breakdown at the slightest sign of danger.

It’s about knowing that Eddie will call you crazy with his stupid friends at his stupid lunch table with his stupid smile and those stupid laughs.

Ms. Vic leans around to see your eyes clenching shut, head turning down, but before she can - Eddie takes a rather obnoxiously large step in front of you.

He beams at Ms. Vic, hands flying to your shoulders, “A moment.”

She nudges her head towards the classroom door and calls the next group.

Once in the hall, you’ve let the tears fall. You’re crumpling the paper in your hand and nearly wailing, “Oh my God, I- I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie squats down so your downturned gaze is forced to lock with his, “Hey, no,” his hands find yours and he squeezes, rings biting at your palm, “it’s alright. You froze up, so what?”

“I could feel them staring at me,” you sniffle and whimper and hiccup, “I don’t wanna go back in there, I can’t look at them. I can’t do this, Eddie. I fucking hate this.”

This overwhelming dread whenever you’re faced with too many faces and too much judgment. This need to cry and hide and run like a child when you’re overwhelmed. This painful, exhausting, languishing need for people to just like you and be proud that they know you.

“Goddammit,” you rip your hands away and cover your eyes with your arms, “I wanna go home.”

Eddie waits a moment and you’re convinced he left. He’s better off that way; delivering the presentation alone so that Hawkins’ local nutjob can’t fuck up his last chance to graduate. Then you feel a hand on your cheek, tender and affectionate.

“Wanna look at me, sweets?” you shake your head and keep your eyes down, “Alright, hey, don’t worry about them, baby, you got this. You’re a rockstar here, remember?” your brows furrow and you purse your lips, “Don’t let a couple dorks with eggs stop you from killing this presentation.”

“We’re dorks with an egg,” you mutter. You look away, “Do you think I’m crazy? Like your friends do.”

“No,” he shakes his head, then remembers last night, then gently brushes his thumb over your cheek, “I mean, sure, I dunno anybody else who explodes on teachers or anything, but you’re not crazy. You just do crazy shit sometimes, sweetpea, ‘s totally different. Not even that crazy, just a little odd, maybe.”

You shoot him a disbelieving stare.

“Really, honey, you’re completely fine. Got some cold feet, that’s all. We just go back in there and kick ass, right?”

“It’s gonna be so fucking weird, Eds.”

“Just don’t let it be,” he stands and you hold your head up this time, still clutching the presentation he wrote last night, “Really, I didn’t stay up all last night writing this just for my pretty partner to not read it.”

“Fine,” you jam the toe of your sneaker into the linoleum floor, “Okay. Fine.”

Eddie holds his arms out, “Hug, for my brave knightly duties?”

“Hug,” you meet him in the middle and squeeze your arms around his waist, Eddie’s arms looping around your neck - his lips dangerously close to your forehead, “Thanks, Eds.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You two return inside and Ms. Vic moves aside for you. She mouths a quick ‘are you okay?’ and no, no you aren’t, but you nod and swallow the marble in your throat all the same.

“Hi,” you do your best to appeal to the people who would throw you overboard for a misplaced giggle, “sorry.”

Your eyes flutter to Eddie and he winks. You take his hand and he squeezes yours - a loving three times.

You keep your eyes on the paper, brows furrowing, “‘We decided to model our egg after James Hetfield, the lead singer of Metallica, and that made it all the more important that we don’t crack it’?” you shoot a quizzical look to Eddie, who only nods excitedly, “‘Our main method of egg-watching was to switch between the two of us during each passing period. That way we could both get the real experience of this project and wouldn’t let one person burden the other.”

Some of Eddie’s words don’t quite make sense where they are. Some of his wording is simply too clunky. A lot of it - most of it, in fact, is misspelled. But you’re slowly forgetting that this is being delivered to a room of other people, and you’re having fun. Weirdly enough.

You’ve had a lot of fun, actually.

Maybe forgiving Eddie won’t be quite as hard as you originally thought.

Chrissy, as usual, cheers you on the loudest. She cups her hands so her clapping can be heard over the mild applause of everyone else - including Ms. Vic’s. Gareth gives you a thumbs up and you start to think that maybe in another universe, this is the final stretch of a cheesy coming of age movie. Written and directed by John Hughes.

Eddie releases your hand and part of you is terribly embarrassed over how much you miss the warmth of his palm on yours.

You two wander back to your seats as Gareth and Sally are called to present. You feel bad for tuning them out, but it’s forgotten in the way sunshine flits through the window and lays kisses to Eddie’s profile.

He grins suddenly, his eyes catching yours and you look away. There’s a chuckle in his throat and you feel his fingers loop with yours once again. You find the courage to stare at him again and he hasn’t looked away from you yet.

You don’t know where this puts you and Eddie, but you do know that tomorrow shouldn't be boring. No day following today will be boring with Eddie Munson.

There’s stars in his eyes as he watches you. His pretty lips whisper, “Wanna go out?”

You squeeze his hand and nod, earnestly bashful.

Because yeah, maybe going out with Eddie Munson will be a form of social suicide, but it isn’t like your standing was all that great in the first place. Besides, you had more fun this week in the sparse moments with Eddie - and your stupid James Hetfield egg - than you think you’ve ever had at Hawkins before.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie.🍓

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blakeswritingimagines · 3 months

Text

Dating Weird Barbie Would Include:

Well... it's not exactly what you might expect. She can be pretty weird, quirky, and even strange at times. She's also very sarcastic, which can be off-putting to some people. But once you get past all of that, she's actually a pretty sweet, and very loyal person. She just likes to keep things interesting and light. She's also very patient and understanding, and she'll always try to see the best in someone. Overall, she's definitely not everyone's cup of tea.. but those who stick around tend to think of her as a pretty amazing girlfriend!

Dating her is a rather unique experience. She's not one of those who loves flirting and cooing sweet nothings, after all. I suppose you could say she's more of a playful teasing type. She loves to watch people squirm and try to figure her out, and she especially loves it when her teasing gets under your skin and makes you grow flustered.

Dating her has its ups and downs, sometimes she is very sweet and kind, but other times she can be a bit difficult and frustrating to deal with. She's a very complex person and she's not always easy to understand. She's loyal and cares a lot about her partner and friends, but she can also be very needy and insecure. Sometimes, when she's down, she'll become depressed and withdraw herself from everyone like she used to. She can be unpredictable at times and sometimes, her mood can change very quickly. Dating her is never boring that's for sure.

You'll be constantly amazed by her ability to surprise you, both in a good and bad way. She is a very open-minded and passionate individual, who will gladly take the lead and encourage you to try new things. Expect the unexpected as she's willing to try anything once. If you're looking for someone who's going to challenge you and keep you on your toes, weird Barbie has all the qualities of a perfect partner.

She is a very understanding and supportive girlfriend, who will always be by your side no matter what. She may have that wild spirit that keeps you on your toes, but, she's also compassionate and considerate of your needs and feelings. Being in a relationship with her can feel like riding a rollercoaster, filled with thrills and highs, followed by an unexpected and thrilling plunge.

She has a deep and soulful side to her personality that manifests itself in unexpected ways. She is not afraid to get creative, explore different artistic avenues, and express herself in unique ways. If you are someone who appreciates genuine human connection and wants to be with someone who brings out the best in you, weird Barbie might just be the doll of your dreams.

Weird Barbie is also a great listener and will always want to hear about your day and what's going on in your life. She'll support you through thick and thin and won't hesitate to provide her honest thoughts and advice, even if you might not like what she has to say. She offers a refreshing perspective in a relationship, making her a very refreshing and inspiring partner.

She is also a true romantic at heart and is always looking for opportunities to create a romantic and special atmosphere. She'll gladly surprise you with a thoughtful gesture or gift just to show her affection. She'll also go out of her way to make you smile, and you'll never find yourself lacking in physical affection or attention. Having weird Barbie in your life is like having a beautiful ray of positivity, always shining bright.

Weird Barbie is also a great communicator and will always try to understand your point of view on any issue. She's open to discussing all kinds of topics with you and will always try to come up with solutions to any problems you might be facing in a constructive and respectful way. Along with her other great qualities, she is someone who will always work to understand you, regardless of any differences or obstacles between you two.

She can also be a bit of a drama queen sometimes. While this quality may seem like a detriment at first, it actually makes her such an enjoyable partner. Her over-the-top reactions and willingness to embrace the drama make every situation more entertaining and memorable. While her flair for the dramatic may get a bit tiring at times, it also creates a sense of spontaneity and adventure within your relationship.

When weird Barbie is feeling particularly jealous or threatened in a relationship, she can become overly insecure. She may be more likely to want to know what you're doing all the time, who you're with, and what's going on in your life. She is a strong person and is capable of recognizing when her insecurities are becoming overwhelming.

Weird Barbie is very affectionate. She loves physical touch and will constantly look for ways to express her affection for you, whether it's holding your hand, giving you a hug or even just sitting closely together. She is very considerate in the way she expresses her affection and will never overstep any boundaries or make you feel uncomfortable. Along with her physical affection, she's also very vocal about her admiration of you, complimenting you on both the big and small things.

She's a fun-loving and spontaneous person. She likes to keep things exciting and always has her finger on the pulse of the latest news in Barbie Land and the real world. Whether it's exploring new places or trying new activities, she is up for anything. It will never be a dull moment with her as a partner. With her by your side, you'll always have an adventure partner in and out of the bedroom.

Weird Barbie is also a great communicator and always knows how to express herself clearly and concisely. In a relationship, being able to communicate effectively is important and she is able to do just that. Whether it's through words or actions, she can deliver her thoughts and feelings in a way that makes sense to you. She is also considerate and always takes your feelings into account before speaking, ensuring that everything is delivered in a way that's respectful and meaningful for you as well.

When weird Barbie is in love, she's willing to commit to you fully and completely. She's not one to take things lightly and she'll do whatever it takes to make the relationship last and prosper. She's not afraid of taking risks and exploring uncharted territories. She'll be there with you through all the ups and downs, never giving up on the relationship. Weird Barbie is a strong-minded individual who will fight for what she believes in and that includes you.

#weird barbie #weird barbie x reader #barbie x reader #barbie imagine #the barbie movie #barbie fanfic

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theloversarcana · 7 months

Text

Random Ann headcanons because I’m bored

♡An absolute menace while driving, please don’t put her behind the wheel

♡(She has a lot of road rage and is pretty reckless when it comes to driving)

♡Is very scared of ghosts but Shiho keeps trying to get her to use a ouija board in old abandoned buildings

♡Has breakdowns often and can immediately be calmed down by the promise of Ben&Jerrys Phish Food ice cream

♡On that note, is a massive crybaby

♡Beautiful Princess Disorder (ifykyk)

♡Has to wear fake eyelashes 24/7 and feels naked without them

♡When she has enough energy to do makeup but not enough to do a full face her essentials are: winged eyeliner, fake lashes+mascara, blush, a red lip and her fav Fenty highlighter (Diamond Bomb in Rosé Rave)

♡Her parents are rich and she has expensive taste in most things, constantly tries to give her friends money and buy them things but they always refuse

♡(As she gets older her parents slowly stop sending her money and she has to learn to fend for herself)

♡Flips back and forth between “I am the most beautiful person in the world” and “I am so ugly I hate myself and I want to break every mirror in my house” very often

♡Has an absurdly large collection of candles

♡Is very indecisive (and picky) about her signature fragrance. Has tried many, many perfumes but still hasn’t found the perfect one so she smells different almost every day

♡Really bad ADHD, has medication but always forgets to take it

♡Her absolute fav color is red and she has to have everything in red. Pink is second but red will always be #1

♡Sanrio girlie through and through

♡Loves binging shitty reality tv shows like Too Hot to Handle, Jersey Shore, Say Yes to the Dress, and any Gordon Ramsey shows

♡Her guilty pleasure food is Chik-Fil-A (pretending Japan has it)

♡Her main music taste is 2000s-2010s pop (Ke$ha, Britney Spears, etc) but has a very large variety of music she likes

♡Her go-to breakdown song is What Was I Made For? by Billie Eilish (also she cried at least 4 times during the Barbie movie)

♡Shiho loves going to antique stores and trying to buy cursed objects which upsets Ann GREATLY

♡(A real interaction that happened) Shiho: *holding a crowbar* This object has really intense energy.. you think someone murdered someone with it? Ann: DONT YOU DARE THINK ABOUT BUYING THAT

♡Was a Legend of Zelda girlie as a kid and still loves the series. Zelda is one of her biggest kins

♡Mean girls is her favorite movie

♡Is a practicing pagan* with Hecate as her patron goddess

♡*I say practicing lightly because she often completely forgets about it and is terrible at keeping up with holidays, routines, rituals etc

♡Has a drinking problem

♡Vomits incredibly easily, accidentally vomited on Shiho once

♡Listens to true crime podcasts while doing her makeup

♡Uses said true crime podcasts for ideas for her plan in her head to murder Kamoshida and get away with it

♡Besides Zelda her other favorite franchises are Barbie, Studio Ghibli, Sailor Moon and Monster High

♡Ryan Gosling is her celebrity crush and she especially fell in love with him after seeing him as Ken

♡Is definitely dating Shiho but could also be dating Ryuji, Futaba and/or Goro (everyone loves her)

♡She is besties with Akira (though this is very specific characterization of Akira who is transfem and straight)

♡They’re strictly best friends but they have no boundaries. They will take baths together or make out because they’re bored and lonely

♡Had to cut her hair to a bob once because her split ends were getting so bad and she cried for a week

♡Is INCREDIBLY protective of her friends and will drop anything to help them. Has been the shoulder people cried on many, many times

#I know some people are offended by the beautiful princess disorder thing but it’s a joke I have BPD and humor is my coping mechanism #these are all hyper-specific because I’m an ann fictive and this is all just shit about Me lol #I know I’ve mentioned I’m an ann fictive like 50 times on this blog in the past week or so but I do not care ♥️#also sorry it’s so long oops!!#ann takamaki #persona 5 #p5

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hot-take-tournament · 10 months

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hi, I'm the original Barbie movie hot take submitter. now that the poll's over and with about 80 people agreeing with me in total (which is honestly way more than i was expecting...) i guess... yeah i should probably address some of these comments, because i don't know which are in good faith and which aren't, but like i said at the beginning of my justification, it's something that's really important to me on a personal level and i saw at least a few people expressing sympathy or wanting to understand better where i was coming from. (again I'm autistic and i can't be sure it wasn't just sarcastic remarks, but it looked like at least a few people were willing to listen.)

this sentence here is your warning that I'm going to continue to talk about my experience. if you hated my take and/or were disturbed by it and would be upset to empathize with my point of view any further, this is your reminder to just stop reading here.

...

so first of all, i did hold myself back, writing that submission. i mentioned upfront that i kept it short, but i guess it only looks shortened if you know how much i have to say about it. i didn't even know if it would make it in so i did gloss over a couple things that may have led to misinterpretation (though a lot of those notes felt like a "how dare you say we piss on the poor" sort of moment (reference to a response on a different post, which accused Tumblr users of having "piss-poor reading comprehension")).

....anyway, this is a more comprehensive and thorough version of my viewpoint. it is long.

the first thing i would like to address is that i noticed a lot of people saying i was pulling it out of nowhere and "projecting (derogatory??)". and.... like.... yes. i know that. i basically said so explicitly when i said "I disliked this movie for heavily personal reasons". that's the point of submitting it to a hot takes blog; this is something that i think most people will disagree with me on, because it's nowhere near the "objective" interpretation of the movie, but it's something that a select few might resonate very strongly with. this movie didn't actually say any of the things that I said it did, on an explicit level. but there were undertones of it the whole way through that triggered multiple breakdowns since its release, because of my particular media sensitivities that i didn't know would be in this movie. you can think of it like I'm accusing this movie of having "traces of peanuts" rather than being a peanut dish. if I'm allergic to peanuts it still sucks, and is unsafe for people with my triggers. (still my fault for going to see the movie, it's not like it's immoral for it to have triggering topics in it. I just regret it and am bitter that everyone seems to unanimously agree that it has no problems, that's all.) I also see that a lot of people were not bothered by these same things that I was, and I respect that. And I'm glad that people were able to enjoy it— my intention was mostly "it seems like no one hated this movie but me. did anyone else share this interpretation?".

...honestly, the movie itself, on an objective level, wasn't actually too horrible. it was kind of sad and depressing, but i would've left it feeling kind of mediocre if it weren't for its online boom. everyone seems to be praising this movie for being incredible and groundbreaking and progressive, but like this other anon said (https://www.tumblr.com/hot-take-tournament/724649240320671744/while-everyone-is-already-arguing-over-the-barbie?source=share), it really... just feels like politically regressing, to me. speaking as someone who is various flavors of non-binary (multigender), and who is transgender and intersex, i am extremely passionate about gender rights. and this movie felt the same as really old radfem ideals of feminism that boiled down to "what if we kept the gender essentialism but we made it so (cis) women were good and sacred (but still perceived as weak, helpless, useless, etc.)". I saw many similar sentiments in the notes of the original poll that I agreed with, saying the movie barely was feminist if at all. I especially agreed with someone (don't remember who) who mentioned that it was kind of misogynistic and backwards for all the women to get brainwashed instantly the moment someone suggests a patriarchy. this movie really said "women are just helpless little children that deserve the world, and the men need to carefully watch what they do and be kept in check, because if they get too confident they're naturally inclined to establish dictatorships and be cruel and evil to the women! and of course the women would roll over and accept it if that happened because they're just helpless little lambs that can't think for themselves" like how is that feminist? i thought everyone was on the same page here that women are people. like people with agency that can do things. and the movie just felt extremely.... belittling of women's actual capability to do things, and demonizing of men's emotions. like i thought these were points that we've already been through, societally. but no. "best feminist movie", "so progressive", "groundbreaking".... like... what?? it's groundbreaking because... there was a patriarchy and no one's ever done that before??? like what is this, the feminism version of "Disney's first gay character"??? is it progressive because Barbie had One Conversation with an old lady who was (sarcastic gasp) happy??? (Admittedly that scene was pretty sweet, I'm not actually upset about that one. but like why is that the highlight i keep seeing everyone come away with. like is it groundbreaking for one (1) old person to be happy?? i would've preferred if there were like. you know. just reasonable casual representation for diverse bodies (but that's ok I wasn't expecting something like that from a mainstream movie anyway.))

...and since a lot of people were upset that I didn't address Barbie herself: yeah, ok, I think the existential crisis stuff was pretty neat, I think she genuinely did a decent amount of growing over the course of the movie, I think her character arc wasn't too bad if you look at it from her point of view. but i think, like ken, she needs to be held accountable for the things she did BEFORE that character growth. a lot of people in the notes mentioned her "forgiveness" at the end, and... yeah, I guess I will admit that's "groundbreaking" for a movie this mainstream, but that is not a compliment. it felt so hollow to me, and again that's just "projection" because when I say "it felt hollow", I mean that it sounds exactly like things I was told by toxic friends as a kid. but I think a certain amount of projection is necessary to empathize with a movie, at least the way I watch them. I don't think that relating stories to your own experience is a bad thing.

.... right, back to barbie's whole thing with "forgiveness". to forgive someone is to put yourself in a social position "above" their own. it's unequal by nature— it creates a social unbalance where one party "forgives" (gracious, generous, implied power of judgement over the other) and the other party "has sinned" (in the wrong, by default should be punished, deserves to suffer unless they properly repent). this sort of punitive structure was used against me and some people close to me and so I have extremely personal triggers around disingenuous apologies and forgiveness. (no, I'm not saying that forgiving people is evil, and I'm not saying that Ken did nothing wrong. this is about Barbie now.)

i don't think Barbie should have forgiven Ken. and i don't think Ken should have forgiven Barbie, either (though he was never given the option, because that would be admitting that she treated him like garbage). i think if Barbie was going to "forgive" Ken, if she really wanted to have a real platonic relationship with Ken at the end of the movie, she should have first acknowledged that she had never been a good friend to him, that he was never treated well on a base human relationship level. and i think she should have apologized for it. a real apology where she empathizes and understands how she hurt him and tries to do better, and acknowledges that she was just as lost as he was. and then lets him forgive her, too. but instead she just cuts straight to her own "forgiveness", skipping past any potential accusations of her own treatment of him, to assert her own dominance and center his own wrongdoings. I think they should have either BOTH admitted they didn't know what they were doing and were shitty to each other, or they should have both gone their separate ways bitterly and with their self confidence intact.

like I've seen some people saying, both on my dash and in the notes of this post, this is a tragic movie about two sad lost people trying to figure out how to break social conventions for the first time, trying to understand how to be more than just a Doll with a Role. and naturally, a movie like that has both of them acting shitty to each other within those roles; Barbie from the start of the movie, because she doesn't WANT a relationship with Ken and she seems to hold this against him, and Ken throughout the movie as he tries to understand why he never seems to be enough. Barbie repeatedly condescends upon and belittles him and is constantly aggravated with him and makes him feel small and burdensome and whiny and exaggerative. she makes fun of his fun names and treats him like a stupid and annoying child. and while some of you in the notes are out here laughing and saying "welcome to the real world for women", "that's just misogyny"— and?? is the moral here that misogyny is funny when it happens to men?? because it does happen to men. i know closeted trans men that are subjected to it every day and it just. seems so low to say "misogyny is good" ever. no matter what the end of that sentence is. to imply that some people can deserve misogyny and mistreatment "if they're men" or "if they're annoying" or "if they're clingy" like... this is part of why i submitted this take. i thought we were socially on the page that misogyny is wrong and sucks. and just because this worldbuilding sets it up so that only Kens experience misogyny doesn't make it suddenly just? either it's a human right to be treated with dignity, or you are supporting misogyny. there's no way to say "but it's funny if i can be vindictive about it" without accidentally validating that defense.

...I went on a tangent again. but what I mean is that Barbie herself was an ASSHOLE to Ken. she didn't want him around but felt obligated to support him, and the solution to that should be to make it so he can support himself. but instead she just feels burdened by him and takes it out on him by belittling his suffering and treating him like his every complaint and need were meaningless or annoying. should it have been her obligation to deal with all of his needs? fuck no! but to act like she could, and wanted to, like she was his friend, when she really just wanted to be free of him... that sucks. and it actively kept him shackled to her. and like, she didn't know better, but neither did Ken. they were both lost souls hurting one another by participating in the only thing they knew: an abusive power structure. the only thing Ken did wrong was.... also wanting to participate in that power structure from the "wrong end". it wasn't okay when Ken did it, but it's notable that Barbie did it first. and that they BOTH needed to apologize for treating each other like shit. and they BOTH needed to empathize with and forgive each other, knowing that they're in a better place now and that neither of them knew what they wanted before. they BOTH fucked up and they BOTH suffered for it. if both, or neither, of them had forgiven each other, then this would've just been an interesting and pretty sad movie with at least some resolution.

.... but INSTEAD what happened was that only Ken was shamed and felt like shit, because he crossed the line that Barbie was supposed to have total dominion over. and Barbie was never held accountable for her treatment of Ken, even though it came from the same misguided and hurtful place that Ken's actions did. I'm not claiming that what Ken did was good, or that he's a pathetic little meow meow and everyone hates him for no reason. but Barbie repeatedly condescends and bullies him at the start of the movie to take out her frustration with her situation, and while it's understandable why she's frustrated, that's not okay to do to him, just as much as it wasn't okay for Ken to "turn the tables" on her so to speak. this is kind of an eye for an eye situation. he only did to her what he had already been experiencing himself. and then for her to be the only one to "forgive", implies that it was okay to do to him, and therefore that it's only wrong if he does it.

misogyny is not okay just because you put it in a specific setting or applied it to specific people. and the same thing for pretending to be friends with someone you hate and then bullying them???. it's not "funny" when a woman attacks a man, and if you think it is, that's rooted in misogyny itself. because why else would you not see women as "real" threats or abusers? abuse could only possibly be twisted around into something funny if you think it can't cause real harm, and that's steeped in the sentiments that women are useless, powerless, and helpless, and that men are inherently powerful and able to control their situation. im sick of it. i feel like this movie genuinely pushed back gender equality by like 20 years. not everything is Men Versus Women and if you're centering the gender binary that much like it fucking means that much, you're erasing non-binary people too?? I'm just. I'm just sick of it, I'm sick of gender essentialism and stereotypes and hollow friendships. sighs. ok sorry this paragraph was just a vent.

anyway. this movie would not have impacted me this negatively if it weren't for the way I hear people talking about it. as if it's amazing and the next step in gender rights even though it basically devolved the understanding of gender back into "maybe............. do you think girls could do things? without dating a man..? or is that a little silly.... no wow!! actually yes! women can sometimes... not date!!". (making a spectacle out of obtaining basic relationship agency???) ...and this is mostly, again, just my own triggers, which over the course of this poll I am realizing are real triggers for me, but... yeah. reminds me of my tirf friend group that shamed anyone who was too forward or too masculine. that would nitpick at people's social mistakes to keep them in check and on their toes.

tldr; I'm so fucking tired of gender essentialism and I went to see this movie thinking it was progressive hot shit just to discover it was Social Shaming But It's Funny Because We're Subjecting Men To It This Time. not very funny when I know so many transmascs who are punished for being women when they aren't. and Ken fucked up, but Barbie fucked up too. neither of them were good for each other and they were hurting each other the whole time, but Barbie never owned up to it and then on top of that "forgave" Ken in a way that was just personally triggering for me. (Not evil, not necessarily malicious. but upsetting for me on a personal level because of my sensitivities).

anyway. thanks for reading if you did. I'm probably not gonna check the notes on this one but just know that it does mean a lot, the few people who did agree with me. I wasn't even expecting 80 people, maybe more like 20. I was fully expecting to get 98% ratioed, considering how positively everyone talks about this movie.

(i hope you have a great day too, mod! my apologies for how long and impassioned this got. I hope this take was entertaining for you at least??)

#not a poll #asks #barbie discourse #barbie spoilers

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huggybug · 2 years

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I don’t know if you are taking requests, but could you do something about Trev having to put poppy into time out and her getting really upset and trev being so upset and heartbroken. Like she’s calling for him but she was naughty/did something bad? x

i’m always taking requests for poppy!! also this takes place when she’s a bit younger maybe around 3/4

“Hey P, you have to clean up these toys before everyone comes over” You remind your daughter who had her dolls spread out all over the living room.

“No” You freeze just as you’re about to leave the room and turn to face her.

“Excuse me?”

“No Mama. I’m still playin’” Poppy grumbled, not bothering to look at you while she plays.

You sighed as you checked the time, the guys were going to be over any time now. “Poppy, I asked you to clean them up ten minutes ago… I’m not going to ask again”

“What’s going on?” Trevor asked as he came downstairs, stopping short of the kitchen when he saw you in a standoff with your toddler.

“Mommy’s makin’ me clean but I just wanna play!” Poppy squealed which made you huff and look to Trevor for support. He had the tendency to go easy on her and as nice as that was, you didn’t love being the bad cop every time.

Trevor caught your signal and cleared his throat, “Poppy” Trevor warned, “If Mom told you to do something, you have to listen”

“No!” She shrieked, grabbing one of the dolls and hurling it in your direction. It hit Trevor’s shin and you could tell he was pissed when he kicked the doll back towards her. It landed a ways away but still, the intent was there.

“Poppy Jane!” Trevor yelled, startling you just as much as Poppy, “Clean all of this up right now and then you’re going in a time out” Poppy’s eyes went wide, looking absolutely petrified at the sight of her dad being angry.

She silently started to pick up her dolls while you and Trevor stood watching. When she was done, Trevor marched her over to her little chair, sitting her down in it before spinning it around to face the wall. “Five minutes” You trail behind him, leaving Poppy facing the wall while you head into the kitchen.

“That was a little harsh” You mumbled as you finished putting some of the food out for everyone that should be at your house any minute now.

“It hurt, barbie’s high heel bruised my shin” You snorted as he raised his leg for you to see the surprisingly nasty bump that was already forming. “She’s fine though right? I wasn’t too mean?”

“She’ll be okay” You shrug.

Trevor groaned, pulling you away from the counter and into his body, draping his arms around you to keep you still. “I feel bad” He poured while looking down at you with his bottom lip sticking out.

“She’s going to be fine babe, she didn’t even cry”

“Daaaaddy” Poppy called, interrupting your conversation.

“Don’t go, she’ll just think she can get whatever she wants” You remind him. Trevor was a good dad, great even but he had a hard time disciplining Poppy which was quickly becoming a problem. He liked to buy her anything and everything she wanted which is a problem along but paired with not staying strict on your own rules, it was an impending disaster.

“But-”

“I’m sorry Daddy, can I be done now?” Poppy whined from her chair and Trevor looked at you with a pained expression.

“Stay strong Trev” You patted his chest and squirmed out of his arms to answer the door, letting Jamie in who was the first to arrive.

You walked back through the living room to find Trevor sitting with Poppy, leaning against the wall that she faced. “I don’t want to be mean baby but you have to listen”

“I know, I’m sorry” Your heart almost broke in two when you heard Poppy’s little voice. She was looking at Trevor with the biggest puppy dog eyes, ones that honestly rivalled his own.

“Alright, go apologize to your mom and then you can go play with Uncle Jamie” Trevor says after his eyes flicker up to see you and Jamie standing there.

Poppy stands from her time out chair and bashful walks over to you, wraps her arms around your legs and mumbles her apology. You decide to forego the lecture since Trevor seemed to have it under control so Poppy runs off, dragging Jamie along with her.

“Good job babe” You smiled as you walked over to where Trevor was still sitting against the wall. “I knew you could do it”

“I didn’t want to. I hate getting mad at her, she’s my baby” He mumbled, watching out the window where Poppy was conducting some sort of game.

“It’s the only way she’s going to learn”

“I know… it just sucks” He sighed.

“C’mon, I think this is affecting you more than her, let me get you a drink” You winked, pulling him to the kitchen to get him a well deserved beer.

#happy dilf day!#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras blurb #poppy zegras #dad au #anaheim ducks #hockey writing #nhl players #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction

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nezahx · 2 years

Text

501ST’S LEGION PLAYLIST

Songs they blast while committing war crimes with Anakin Skywalker

Captain Rex, Appo, Jesse, Echo, Denal, Dogma, Fives, Fox, Hardcase, Kix, droidbait, heavy, cutup, Cody, Boil & Waxer (Yes, I added some 212th attack battalion clones because I love them and, also the whole Domino squad is here because in my perfect word, they all made it to the 501st legion, shhh)

1-Gosthbusters-WALKED THE MOON

If there’s something strange in the galaxy, who you gonna call? 501ST LEGION. Honestly, this song fits their vibe perfectly, even if this playlist is a mere joke, I feel like they would listen to this religiously, specially the Domino squad.

2-Never Gonna Give You Up-Ricky Astley

When master Kenobi and Cody join them for a mission, they enjoy this song unironically, as well as Rex, tho he’s better at hiding it.

3-You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)- Dead Or Alive

Fives and Echo dance to this together, end of story.

4-I Want It That Way- Backstreet Boys

Fives learned the complete choreography and forced the rest of the 501st legion to do so, Obi-wan and the 212th attack battalion always watch the show and clap with proudness at the end, but Boil, Boil wonders how the fuck they’re still alive.

5-Payaso de rodeo- Caballo Dorado

Ahsoka leds the way, boss queen can dance to this in heels, she even adds the little spin, she be forcing everyone to stand up when the song starts playing.

6-Welcome to the jungle- Guns N’ Roses

So, Boil’s song, yes, can someone argue that? No.

7-U Can’t Touch This-MC Hammer

Music hits me so hard, makes me say “Oh my lord, thank you for blessing with a mind to rhyme and two hyped feet’- Ahsoka and Anakin sing to this together while the clones do dance break in the middle of the ship.

8-Who Let The Dogs Out- Baha Men

Jesse: WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?

Everyone else in the ship: ‘BARKS INTENSIVELY’

9-All Star-Smash Mouth

The idea of the tcw characters as the Shrek characters is quite a concept, Anakin is donkey, not arguing that either.

10-I’m Too Sexy- Right Said Fred

Kenobi hates this song more than anything, but that ain’t stopping Fives & Heavy from feeling their selfs.

11-The Ketchup Song (Aserejé) Spanish Version-Las Ketchup

So…Ahsoka knows Spanish and loves to sing music in that language (it haves noting to do with me being Mexican ofc…) So this is her solo, the clones and Anakin hype her up doing their little dancy dance.

12-Pump It-Black Eyed Peas

Dogma be loving this song, and no one can change my mind, also Ahsoka always sings the Fergie verse, no matter what.

13-A Thousand Miles-Vanessa Carlton

Is this a dumb headcanon with zero arguments? Yes, it indeed is, but no one will ever change my mind about it, waxer loves this songs and Kix sings and cries to it every time it plays, no one really knows why, but no one cares enough to ask.

14-Y.M.C.A-Village People

Kenobi use to sing this to Anakin when he was a child to make him feel better, he even thought him the dance, so whenever the song plays the whole ship turns to Obi-wan and expect him to do it.

15-Like a Virging-Madonna

Am I dropping more dumb headcanons about Kix? Yes, because he loves this song, but not as much as Anakin, Anakin breaks his vocal chords when it comes to signing it.

16-Wannabe-Spice Girls

Once, cut up said, ironically, that this was the song of 'The domino squad' however, heavy took it very seriously.

17-Barbie Girl-Aqua

Grupal song? group song! It’s so catchy that sometimes even Kenobi catches himself signing the ‘Come on Barbie let’s go party’ line, and even if he think no one has seen it, Cody always reply’s with the little ‘Ah ah ah yeah’

18-Dancing Queen-From ‘Mamma Mia!’ Original Motion Picture Soundtrack- Merly Streep

Please don't notice how obsessed I am with Ahsoka and her wholesome relationship with the 501st clones, Rex always sings this song to Ahsoka, along with the rest of the clones as a magnificent choir.

19-Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)-Backstreets Boys

Fives has a bit of an obsession with the Backstreet Boys, but Echo won't let him die alone, so he always sings the little 'Yeah's’ in the song so Fives won’t feel so alone.

20-Mambo No.5 (A Little Bit of..)-Lou Bega

‘A little bit of Appo in my life, a little bit of Jesse by my side, a little bit of Rex is all I need, a little bit of Kix is what I see, a little bit of hardcase in the sun, a little bit of Echo all night long, a little bit of Fives here I am, a little bit of you makes me your man’ And after coming out with that line at 3 am in the morning, Anakin knew it could’t get any better, once Kenobi heard it, he knew it couldn’t get any worst.

THANKS FOR READING!

If someone is interested on the playlist, here it is!

20 songs, 1 hour and 13 minutes long, best listened in shuffle

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koalas-koalas-everywhere · 11 months

Text

Mercelot Week 2023 Day 3: Locked Room/Midnight Meetings (When Love Was An Act Of Defiance Sneak Peak)

In which Lancelot doesn't die and that changes... well, not that much, actually. Up until it does.

<< That's what the summary would be IF I HAD A COMPLETE FIC TO POST. These are sneak peaks posted as part of Mercelot Week 2023.

--------------------------------

Lancelot is feeling kinda bummed about his new job. Good thing Merlin is always there to recommend medically beneficial crime!

HEY. THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR THE WIP AHEAD. Except for how it's about things that happen in the first and second chapter. Like, I'm not pressed about you reading it, but I have recently seen people complain about how the Barbie movie trailer provided info about the movie, so. We've moved past the fanfic tropes that might appear in tags and into the meat of the story. It's from an original chapter called "A Wake". Anyway, Fill for Day 3: Locked Room/Midnight Meetings. Ao3

Merlin and Lancelot reached the end of a darkened corridor and peered around the corner. Two guards were posted along the next turn.

Merlin whispered, “Hie wēmaþ þé”, and a flurry of steps sounded in the next corner. The guards rushed over and they sneaked the same way, turning left where the other two had turned right. Some hallways later, they came across the room they’d been looking for.

“Onirn,” Merlin unlocked the door and they slipped in. “Alright, they should be in the back. Unless someone hasn’t been listening to Gaius,” he snorted, already walking over. “Why don’t you take the last row and I’ll take the one before that? You’ll know them when you see them, but remember not to touch anything else.”

“That was too easy,” Lancelot complained, following after him.

“Is that a problem for you?” Merlin looked back, incredulous.

“I mean… Now that I’m in charge of the castle’s security…” he admitted.

“Well.” Merlin turned that over in his mind. “If it makes you feel better. It wasn’t really any easier than when Leon was in charge. So.”

“Just,” Lancelot waved it off and walked past Merlin to the shelf he’d been sent to.

Merlin bit his lip, but left it alone while he got to work as well. They searched in silence for a few seconds.

“It wasn’t that bad, you know?” Merlin called out.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Merlin peeked through a gap in the shelf at Lancelot’s back. Those were definitely angry shoulders and he’d never known his friend to be angry at anyone but himself.

“Considering it was your first time and everyone just decided to be an arse about it.”

“I forgot to tell them to bring their weapons. I forgot to tell them I’d be leading the training at all. All of them, our friends, too! That was just…” He stopped and dropped his forehead against the shelf, groaning.

“You made a mistake,” Merlin soothed. “It could happen to anyone. Also, take your face away from there, you don’t know what it’ll do to you.”

“Did it happen to Arthur?” he challenged, straightening up.

“Arthur’s been training for this since birth.” Merlin did a weird voice at that last part, although he knew Lancelot wouldn’t get it. “Honestly, he shouldn’t even have been a knight when I got here, he was too young. They probably let him cheat,” he accused in mock-indignation.

“He must have proven himself in battle,” Lancelot denied, not getting into the joke.

“How did he prove himself worthy to be in a battle in which… to… prove himself?” Merlin blinked. “Besides, I assure you, no one would’ve dared to say anything to him, even if he’d made an idiot of himself.”

“You mean, like I did?” Lancelot asked bitterly and Merlin knew he’d walked right into that one. Before he could protest, he went on. “Did he ever even make an idiot of himself?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Merlin muttered.

“Did Leon?”

Merlin looked at the boxes in front of him. After a moment of silence, he heard Lancelot sigh and his rummaging resume. Then, it stopped again.

“I found them.”

Merlin perked up and crossed the shelves to look.

“See?” he bumped his shoulder against Lancelot’s. “You are good for something.”

That earned him a snort. They set to work, filling the bag they’d brought along with fritters, careful to leave the remaining ones more or less orderly to avoid suspicion. Once it was full, they dashed among the preserved meats and fruits out of the storage room, through the castle’s hallways and back to Lancelot’s chambers.

“Sneaking around and stealing things doesn’t feel right when we’re only trying to get some sweets,” the knight reflected from where he sat on the floor, considering a dragée under the light of the fireplace.

“You need it,” Merlin said through a mouthful of his own loot, a sugar-coated strawberry. “It’s good for your humours.”

“I’m not sure,” Lancelot laughed. He tipped over to grab the poker and stoke the fire, but he couldn’t reach it, even stretching so far he was lying down. He sighed, as if weighing the chill in the room against his reticence to get up.

Merlin made a noise to stop him. He stretched his hand towards the fire and whispered, “Onǣl.”

The flames flared up. He wondered what would happen if he tried that spell on a fire without enough kindle and turned to ask Lancelot, but then he met his eyes. He was still lying halfway down, leaning on an elbow to look at him with a soft smile. The golden light of the fire seemed to play in the ends of his hair, the folds in the corners of his eyes, his hands as he fiddled with a sweet and brought it up to his mouth.

“What if there hadn’t been enough wood?” Merlin blurted out, flustered all of a sudden. He realized that hadn’t made sense and was about to explain, but he didn’t need to.

“Well,” Lancelot said, shifting to better hold his food on the hand whose elbow was propping him up and feed himself with the other, “you can make a fire in your hand, right? And I assume you’re not using your own flesh as fuel—“

“You don’t know that,” Merlin pointed out.

“It would smell,” he countered with a grin.

“Alright, but, see, that spell didn’t mean ‘fire’, exactly—“ Merlin leant forward to explain, already seeing Lancelot’s eyes light up with interest, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

They both looked at it and then each other. It was the small hours, much too late for social calls, present company excluded. The only thing that made sense was that someone had caught them nicking the desserts.

“Lancelot?” came Percival’s hushed voice.

They shared a wry smile.

“Good thing we got enough to share,” Merlin whispered.

Percival pushed the door in a crack, took one look at them and withdrew. “Sorry!”

“To hell with that, I do not believe he has a girl in there,” said Gwaine, barging right in. His eyes fell instantly on the pile of food they’d dumped between them and he pointed at it. “Told you!”

“About the girl thing or about the food thing?” Elyan asked, walking inside. “Hi, Merlin. Do you guys mind?” he grinned, already grabbing some sweets and sitting with them.

“Shame on you, Lancelot,” Gwaine tutted, doing the same. “The Marshal of Camelot? Stealing from the royal pantry?” His voice was muffled with food when he said, “My, my.”

Percival slipped in and closed the door.

“They’re medicine, actually,” Lancelot told him.

“For the humours,” Merlin insisted, also with his mouth full.

“What’s in this?” Elyan asked, lifting a comfit.

“Sugar,” Gwaine said.

“I know that, I mean what’s inside the sugar.” Elayn shoved his shoulder.

“Ginger, I think,” Merlin said, leaning forward to get a better look.

“Will that help with my humours?” he asked, popping it in his mouth.

“Um.” Merlin shrugged. “Can’t hurt.”

“Cheers to not hurting,” Gwaine toasted with a comfit of his own and they all joined in.

“Cheers to the marshal,” Percival added, which they all repeated so loudly that the honoree had to shush them, in between being shaken by multiple hands that reached to push his shoulder and ruffle his hair.

“Well, not everyone’s as happy,” Lancelot remarked.

“Bunch of snobs,” Gwaine waved it off. “They just can’t accept that they’ve sucked that silver spoon dry.”

“What about Brennis, then?” he challenged. “He never had a problem with any of us, he’s still fine with all of you, but today—“

“Maybe he didn’t see you behind him,” Percival suggested.

“Oh, he definitely saw you,” Elyan denied with a snort, then he smiled sadly. “I don’t think it’s really about you, though. Wait a little. Until everything’s less” —he sucked in air— “fresh with Leon. You’ll see how they turn around.”

“I’m not so sure,” Lancelot said, but he didn’t elaborate.

Merlin wished he would. Maybe it would help him to have a knight’s perspective on the whole thing, to assure him that he wasn’t any less brave or honourable for having left the quest. He couldn’t break his friend’s confidence, though.

“Cheers!” Gwaine lifted another sweet. “To Leon!”

“To Leon,” they all joined in.

“Who’d have been so very done if he’d found us eating stolen food in the middle of the night!” The rest of them laughed as he went on, gesturing at Lancelot. “Who no one would’ve dared to emasculate with a mace!”

“Attempt to emasculate, thank you,” Lancelot corrected.

“Important,” Merlin agreed.

“And who would’ve let us keep on, as long as we gave him a bribe, and maybe even joined us,” Gwaine sighed.

“And who would’ve told Lancelot that he was doing just fine and to stop sweating it,” Elyan added.

“Gelding notwithstanding,” Merlin finished.

“Cheers!” cried Percival.

“I dodged,” Lancelot insisted, raising his own comfit.

Notes:

Hie wēmaþ þé: “They lead you astray.” (Hopefully) Onǣlan: 1. to set fire to; kindle; ignite; light (a fire ; lamp ; etc ) 2. to burn; burn up 3. to make hot; (by extension) to inflame; excite intense feeling; kindle passions. (The version in the story is in imperative.) I was going to use another one that meant literally “to attend to a fire” but asfasdfasd.

#MercelotWeek2023 #mercelot #minor character death #offscreen. in the past. it might not be too minor to some of you but look inside your hearts. it kinda is.#lancelot lives au #alt season 4 #wlwaaod #When Love Was an Act of Defiance

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donut-cloud · 2 years

Text

Lifesteal incorrect quotes

Ashswag: Just so everyone knows, don't ever try to climb a tree at night carrying a strobe light, owls DON'T like it. Reddoons: ...what happened? Ashswag: I made a VERY bad mistake.

Ashswag: I am not a lunatic. I have the psychiatric report to prove it. A slender majority of the panel decided in my favour.

Clown: I have no respect for Santa. Don't sneak in through the chimney and undermine my authority by bringing my family presents. Walk in through the front door and fight me like a man.

Zam: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Clown.

Clown: Do you know the ABCs of first aid? Zam: A. Bone. Coming out of the skin is very bad.

Chief: Alright, listen up you little shits. Chief: Not you Branzy. You're an angel and we're thrilled you're here.

Branzy: What are you doing here? Chief: I could ask you the same question. Branzy: I live here. This is my house. Chief: I should probably ask you a different question.

Clown: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Branzy: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely* Clown: That one. I want that one

Cube, rushing into the room: It's terrible, just terrible! I am so upset!

Leowook: Cube, honey, sit down! Sweetheart, tell us all about it. Mid, would you get Cube some water?

Mid: What are they gonna do with water? Has water ever made you feel better when you were upset? Have you ever heard anyone say, "Thank God, the water's here!"?

*Chief and Branzy sitting in jail together* Branzy: So who should we call? Chief: I'd call Clown, but I feel safer in jail

Clown: Tell Branzy about the birds and the bees. Chief: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.

Clown: They stole from me first! Branzy: Mhm. Clown: Stole my heart... Chief: It is still illegal to commit murder.

Chief: Why are you on the floor? Branzy: I'm depressed. Branzy: Also I was stabbed, can you get Clown, please.

Zam, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Pangi: You did WHAT– Don: William Snakepeare

Clown: You seem familiar, have I threatened you before?

Jaron: Hey Ashswag can I get a sip of your water? Ashswag: It's not water. Jaron: Vodka, I like your style! Ashswag: It's vinegar. Jaron: Wh-Wha- Ashswag: It's vinegar, COWARD.

Jaron: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail Ashswag: No it's my fault, I shouldn't've used my one phone call to prank call the police

Jaron: Don't worry, I know exactly what I'm doing. Everything is going to be fine! Ashswag: How can you still say that? Jaron: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

Jaron: In your opinion, what's the height of stupidity? Ashswag: *turning to Rekrap* How tall are you?

Zam, addressing Chat: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box. Chat: But – that's just a trash can. Zam: It sure is!

Zam: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Vitalasy, going over Subz's resume: Okay, so right here, it states that you're creative. Subz: Yes Vitalasy: Okay... may I know what you create? Subz: Problems.

Parrot: Here's some advice Rekrap: I didn't ask for any Parrot: Too bad. I'm stuck here with my thoughts and you're the only one who talks to me

Parrot: I learned some very valuable lessons from this. Rekrap: I'm guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should've taken away. Parrot: Death isn't real, and I'm basically God.

Spoke, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career! Ashswag, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you're staying home and having my kids Zam: what the fuck are you guys doing? Spoke: playing systemic oppression

Spoke: What do you think Ashswag will do for a distraction? Zam: They'll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That's what I would do. *Building explodes and several car alarms go off* Zam: ... or they could do that

Branzy: I was put on this earth to do one thing. Branzy: Luckily I forgot what it was so I can do whatever I want.

Branzy: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

Branzy, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

Branzy: Whether or not I pay income taxes is none of the government's business. Rekrap: No, well, actually, it is. Branzy: You don't know my name or what I look like, good luck finding me.

Clown: There's something I have to ask about you-know-who. Branzy: Voldemort? Clown: No. Branzy: Is it Voldemort? Clown: It's not Voldemort. Branzy: You haven't mentioned wizards once this conversation, so I'm gonna have to assume it's Voldemort.

Clown: *angrily presses Branzy against a wall* WHERE'S THE MONEY?! Branzy: ... Branzy: Are we about to kiss-

Clown: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely. Rekrap & Branzy: Okay. Clown: If you don't want to die, give me all your money. Rekrap: Bold of you to assume I have money. Branzy: Bold of you to assume I can die.

Zam: Ashswag... Ashswag: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a fuck.

Reddoons: I'm never having a debate with Ashswag again, they literally started their argument with "Riddle me this."

Clown: Today is a day of running through hurdles. Branzy: Aren't you supposed to jump OVER hurdles? Clown: Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.

Branzy: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness. Clown: Next time you're working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex's house down. You can do it. I believe in you. Rekrap: There were so many mixed messages in that I can't-

Branzy: So are we flirting right now? Clown: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Branzy: That doesn't answer my question

Ashswag: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Reddoons: >:O language Subz: Yeah watch your fucking language Branzy: OKAY WHO TAUGHT SUBZ THE FUCK WORD? Clown: 'The fuck word'. Rekrap: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Subz: Oh my god they censored it Clown: Say fuck, Rekrap. Subz: Do it, Rekrap. Say fuck.

Ashswag: I actually have a black belt. Reddoons: In what, karate? Ashswag: No, from Gucci.

Ashswag: Do you take constructive criticism? Reddoons: I only take cash or credit.

Zam: I'm a reverse necromancer. Pangi: Isn't that just killing people? Zam: Ah, technicality.

Zam: Dammit, Pangi! Pangi: What?! It wasn't me! Zam: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Spoke! Spoke: Not me either. Zam: Oh...Then who set the house on fire? Woogie: *whistles*

Cube: Everyone, synchronize your watches. Pangi: I don't know how to do that. Spoke: I don't wear a watch. Branzy: Time is a construct.

Pangi: Can I copy the homework?' Branzy : I can help you with it! Clown : Yeah, sure. Ashswag : Bold of you to assume I did the homework. Rekrap: lol nope. Zam : Wait, we had homework?!?!?! Subz: *Read 5:55pm*

Spoke : Rules are made to be broken. Parrot : They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Ashswag : Uh, piñatas. Rekrap: Glow sticks. Zam : Karate boards. Subz: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Spoke : Rules. Parrot : ...

Branzy : I CAN'T DO IT! Clown , laughing: I CAN'T EITHER! Branzy : I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE Ashswag : WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US. Branzy : Branzy : I appreciate it, Branzy : BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH- Rekrap: Branzy - Branzy : YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE! Zam : Branzy we gotta- Branzy : YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT. Branzy : YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Branzy , motioning to Subz: NOT FUCKING THIS

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker* Branzy : So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Everyone: Clown : ...I did. I broke it. Branzy : No. No you didn't. Ashswag ? Ashswag : Don't look at me. Look at Rekrap. Rekrap: What?! I didn't break it. Ashswag : Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken? Rekrap: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken. Ashswag : Suspicious. Rekrap: No, it's not! Zam : If it matters, probably not, but Subz was the last one to use it. Subz: Liar! I don't even drink that crap! Zam : Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? Subz: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Zam ! Clown : Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Branzy . Branzy : No! Who broke it!? Everyone: Zam : Branzy ... Ashswag 's been awfully quiet. Ashswag : rEALLY?! *Everyone starts arguing* Branzy , being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it. Branzy : I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Branzy : Branzy : Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

Branzy : We need to distract these guys Clown : Leave it to me Clown : Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Ashswag , Rekrap, and Zam : *Immediately begin arguing* Subz, watching in horror: Oh this. I don't like this. I don't like this at all.

Branzy : If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous. Clown : What if it bites me and it dies!? Ashswag : Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Clown , learn to listen. Rekrap: What if it bites itself and I die? Redoons : That's voodoo. Subz: What if it bites me and someone else dies? Clown : That's correlation, not causation. Rekrap: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die? Redoons : That's kinky. Branzy : Oh my God.

Branzy : Time for plan G. Clown : Don't you mean plan B? Branzy : No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Ashswag : What about plan D? Branzy : Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Rekrap: What about plan E? Branzy : I'm hoping not to use it. Redoons dies in plan E. Ashswag : I like plan E.

Branzy : Hewwo. Zam : Hihiiiiii! Ashswag : Greetings, Humans. Redoons : Three kinds of people. Rekrap: I want pudding. Branzy : Four kinds of people. Clown: WHAT'S UP FUCKERS? Redoons : Five kinds of people.

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