#but i just - i hate working i hate labour i hate all of it. nobody thinks this should be the point

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Like I think about pensions and retirement and working until I'm in my 60s and I wonder why I would want to be there for it when the only thing that I have to look forward to is shitty work for barely-enough pay for most of my life, up until I finally get to go (if I have my 40 years worth of trimesters) and enjoy life on a pension too small to do anything with. I literally hung out with my best friend today and we made hot chocolate and I think about retirement and suddenly I forget about every good thing in life

#people praising us like all those people in the streets mean anything #like our government gives a singular fuck #like the whole railway system and post aren't going to shit #like there's not less and less place in unis like your whole life doesn't revolve around working shitty jobs #like it's going to do anything #we keep going because you have to but they're not changing it #imagine being 62 and knowing you get to retire in 4 months #those are your last 4 months ever ans then you can go hiking and see the world #you've worked for 40 years. you've got all the paperwork done you know it's all there and you'll get your full pension #you're THIS close #and now you have to pick between two more years or even less money #like. i'm not 21 and i'm still - it's so oppressive when you think about it #my grandfather had a hard job and they paid him early retirement in his early 50s #my dad is his dad's age when he retired but he's got like a decade more to go still #and like he was here for us and he has time for himself too and we don't need riches or anything #but i just - i hate working i hate labour i hate all of it. nobody thinks this should be the point #i'm so..... #yeah #gonna go. i don't know. forget about it and sleep. #wow i have a ramble tag now

[teaboot]

Yo, no hate, I totally get the confusion!

From the perspective of someone who isn't in the arts, this would seem pretty dumb, yeah? Offering someone money for work they already did, on a picture I already have access to, thay I could just ask someone to do on me for free, right?

Well, there are a few reasons:

As an artist myself, I know how hard it is to make a career out of art. Nobody wants to hire you, those who DO don't want to pay you, and it's so, so easy to have your ideas ripped off or stolen. I believe that by giving money to artists I appreciate, I can help them continue to exist and continue creating more.

I'm benefiting from their work. I love their art, and I want it on my body, and they put work into creating it, so shouldn't I compensate them? It'd be kind of unfair for them to put blood sweat and tears into a piece on for me to walk in and go, "mine now", right? If I hired the tattoo artist to design something for me, it would cost money. So why is it fair to rob the tattoo artist AND the original artist so I can save a buck? I've just cheated two different professionals.

By asking the original artist if it's okay to get their work, and if they'd like to charge for it, I'm giving them control over their own creations. Maybe it's a personal piece. Maybe it was a commission for someone else who doesn't want matching tattoos with an internet stranger. I'm letting them choose to say what happens to the art that they've made, and in an era of the internet and pinterest and AI theft, that's not something we all get to have anymore.

TL/DR: Asking permission and offering payment is a gesture of appreciation and respect that grants an artist the dignity and bargaining power they need to survive in an increasingly hostile environment.

Or,

Failing to adequately compensate individual artists and craftsmen for their labour has directly to the death of art and craft at large.

[sophie-frm-mars]

The Cass Review, and what we can do about it

The UK government is making decisive moves toward banning trans healthcare outright. The NHS says it is adjusting its policies to be in line with the "cass report", a pseudoscientific report written by a transphobe that goes as far as to claim that little boys playing with trucks and little girls playing with dolls is biological, and which disregards dozens of scientifically sound previous studies into HRT and trans healthcare in order to reach its conclusions that trans healthcare for under 25s should be radically changed to discourage transition at every turn and make it as hard as possible for young people to transition.

These moves will kill countless young trans people. I would not have made it to 25 if healthcare wasn't available and I know so many other trans people wouldn't have either.

The mainstream reporting in the UK is keeping itself ideologically cohesive by claiming that trans people exist, nobody hates them, and they're very rare, and the big problem is the explosion of new cases of not-really-trans people who are clogging up the system (this is a lie, the system has been intentionally slowed by malicious neglect, it isn't even a resource issue, the clinics have far more capacity than the number of patients who are let through)

Once again, this is genocidal and is actually a commonplace methodology of genocide. The nazis asked GRT people to help them understand which Traveller families were "real" travellers and which were the fake ones, since they insisted it was only the fake ones who were the problem and who had to be exterminated (because a lot of nazi GRT policy was based on American indigenous reservation policy).

Labour, the main opposiiton party in the UK, has announced it will "follow the Cass Report", and implement these restrictions on trans healthcare once in government.

For the survival of young trans people, robust community structures must be developed immediately.

Efforts to change the electoral situation will proceed at a snail's pace and will be entirely at the whims of what is politically expedient. It will turn around, but it will take a long time. At the voting level, everyone in the UK who cares about trans people needs to make it clear that they won't vote for Labour unless they reverse position on this, and to be clear about this: Labour will not listen. They are PR Brained Psychopaths and they don't want to get into this "controversial" issue in a way that might cost them further popularity and the easy election win.

Wes Streeting, inhuman lab experiment and Labour Shadow Health Secretary has said that activists need to "stop protesting to ask us to be better opposition and start protesting to ask us to be better government", in other words their electoral promises are cynical reactionary bargains and deals to get them into power and the only point at which they will change anything is once they are in government, if at all. I know this sounds very "push Biden left" but I'm not saying give up now - to repeat, everyone who cares about trans people in the UK should tell Labour to get fucked right away, and then keep doing it as loudly as possible, but it's just not going to change until after the general election at least.

Another way to help could be through legal routes, like the work that The Good Law Project has been doing for trans people for several years now, but I don't know enough about the law to know if it can be used to challenge this at all.

We have to accept there is no electoral solution right now to this genocidal campaign against trans people in the UK, and while those efforts are ongoing trans people and cis allies need to fucking organise. Trans exclusive / separatist organising is riddled with issues, I don't want to cast hopelessness around but there are really very few of us and while it's absolutely necessary to privilege trans voices in trans organising and give us the deciding power and the autonomy, we need to utilise the support and time and labour of every cis person who is willing to help in whatever way they can.

Robust community structures means community structures that are helping young trans people get healthcare as an absolute basic starting point, but it means a lot more than that besides. We need community structures that are consciously organised by people who are taking responsibility for the community roles they are in and being completely explicit with each other about the nature and function of their organising. We need HRT community resources so young trans people can survive this medical segregation, we need drug user harm reduction spaces so that what people turn to in despair doesn't kill them, we need sober spaces so that people can get away from unhealthy coping responses, we need conflict resolution structures so that our problems are dealt with privately and nobody is left completely isolated, but more than any of those things, and in order to have all of those things, we desperately need trans assemblies

Assemblies are how we will get a community of robust radical organisers, because only by repeatedly practicing the ongoing process of democracy can people learn how to do it in a way that will facilitate their own organising. We have to empower the whole community to answer our own questions, come up with solutions, organise people into structures to enact those solutions and then do them. All this means is that an open door event convenes frequently (at least fortnightly) to discuss what is happening in the community. Trans people get the mic for allotted time, and discuss the issues, and then whatever voting structure the assembly uses facilitates further discussion, for example through working groups - the assembly breaks into smaller groups to discuss the topic and then representatives report the outcomes of those discussions back and consensus is reached from what the representatives report.

We have to get people engaging in this process because in order to effectively combat this situation trans people must agree on the solutions and then tell cis allies how to help and so far we haven't been doing that. We really really haven't been. But we could be with a little work. And as I'm saying, doing this will also empower everyone in the community to organise toward specific solutions for specific issues like HRT provision, sober spaces, housing, food, etc.

fuck

I'll have more to add to this post later I have to get to therapy I just got really mad when I saw the news this morning

#transgender #uk #genocide #organising

[kerubimcrepin]

An analysis of Joris Jurgen’s various fears and insecurities

Aka, Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 9]

This scene is one of the most important pieces of Joris's characterization,  — because of what it shows us about Joris's inner thoughts, and how he came to be the person that he is.

Joris knows what he said to Kerubim was cruel. And the things that terrify him are both the guilt and the reaction Kerubim might have:

The guilt of knowing why Kerubim is like that: His life full of nothing but horrible things and tragedies, that made him vulnerable. And Joris just called him an old wreck, as if it's Kerubim's fault that he was wrecked to begin with.

And the fear that he will be too distraught to reason with. That Joris will have to grovel and beg for him to calm him down.

He probably deems himself selfish, for feeling bad about the idea of giving Kerubim an apology for everything he said. Selfish, because really, he does owe everything to him, does he not?

Joris is perfectly aware of his place in the world as an orphan. Kerubim didn't have to adopt him.

He could have tossed him out like a hot potato, and perhaps, for how grateful Joris is, it might be just what he deserves, as far as Joris is concerned.

Joris is more than aware that he's fortunate to even have a roof over his head and some semblance of a family. Both because of Lilotte, and Kerubim himself.

So feeling bad about anything concerning Kerubim is like looking a gift horse in the mouth.

And here's the jealousy I spoke of, earlier. He views Lilotte both as a friend, and as a rival for Kerubim's affections, — because his survival has always depended on Kerubim liking him.

It's why he's so anxious, and why his thoughts are so quick to spiral out of control, just like at this moment of the movie.

He has nothing going for him besides Kerubim. Absolutely no family to speak of. So, if Kerubim can't, or doesn't want to take care of him, he has nobody left.

Children learn very early on how to please their parents: and for Kerubim it's pure, uncomplicated love, with no drama, no hate involved.

And it's the reason he fears Joris growing up, and keeps treating him like a little kid, trying to offset the inevitable:

Subtly, these feelings of love become more and more complicated, as someone grows older.

It's why Joris tries so hard to mold himself into a comfortable image for him.

And yet, despite all his attempts, Joris finds himself growing up into yet another person scorned, — doomed to hurt Kerubim. Even though growing up and hurting Kerubim, whom he loves so much, is the last thing he wants.

Even though he has his own needs for respect and personal space now. These childhood experiences and pain make him into a very guarded person. To him, deep friendship is all about emotional labour and being infantilized.

Joris can't really be his own person as Kerubim's son, and nobody will ever take him seriously from a first glance, — he's faced with reminders of that in every aspect of his life. This has made him a creature of pride.

He has to work with every fibre of his being to seem serious, cool, and professional, — because otherwise, he is doomed to not be taken serious, and be considered a child yet again.

And he has every reason to feel that way. It's just a constant uphill battle to be recognized as an adult.

It's why he wants Kerubim and Atcham to act as his children, — he can't, he just can't have people he actually likes knowing about Kerubim, and risking them seeing him as subservient to the man, as his son.

It's a way of having Kerubim and Atcham treat him as an equal — as a superior, even.

Though he knows that Kerubim and Atcham will never actually think that way of him, it is enough.

They keep protecting him. And also, softly, making fun of him for these neuroticisms. But at least they don't think of him as child anymore.

And at least, he doesn't have to care about offending them, — a father is a creature that offends often, after all.

#ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz #dofusmovie #joris jurgen

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- I Didn’t Know

Last night I started to get these funny aches and pains in my stomach. Putting it down to my monthly arriving I ignored them after getting myself a hot water bottle and went to sleep. However I woke up about 3am in the worst pain I've ever experienced. These period pains are truly something else. Groaning I get out of bed and make my way done to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea hoping to ease the pain.

7am rolls around and I'm in agony. Aunt Polly and Tommy are now up and wondering what to do. Polly has tried everything she can think of to help with the pains, but nothing is working and the pains are just getting worse

"That's it's I'm ringing a doctor. This isn't normal"

"Yeah ok" Polly breathes out giving in, also so confused to why my pains are so bad this month. Tears are falling down my face

"Aunt Poll an I dying?" I ask

"No. Tommys going to ring the best doctor he can to come over and give you a check up"

"Poll I'm scared"

"I know, but you don't need to be, everything's going to be ok"

Within 30 minutes a doctor has arrived and had been checking me over

"Ok there's one last thing I want to check" he says taking our stethoscope

"You've already listed to her heartbeat" Tommy frowns in confusion, but the doctor proceeds to place his stethoscope on my stomach

"Aunt Poll what's he.."

"Shh" the doctor says as he listens "unbelievable. This is so rare. I've never seen this happen before"

"What? Am I dying?"

"No, your in active labour"

"I'm what?"

"She's what?" Aunt Polly, Tommy and I say all at the same time

"You had no idea you were pregnant?" The doctor asked

"I.. no. I had my monthly every month on time"

"Have you wet yourself yet?"

"Pardon?"

"He's asking if your waters have broken, but you will have wet yourself since you wouldn't have had any warning of it happening"

"No"

"Well then I think we should get you up on your feet and walking about. That should help"

"Who did this?" Tommy asks

"What?"

"Who got you pregnant. I'll fucking kill em"

"No you will not. Unless that is you were forced"

"No he was sweet, promise"

"Who..."

"Tommy let's do this later yeah? Go and ring the others let them know whats going on"

After walking around the house and my waters breaking, I was checked over and now it's time to push. Polly holds my hand while the doctor is at the other end. My brothers are all at the pup trying to figure out who the father is

"Ok next wave I need you to push"

"I can't"

"Yes you can. You can do this YN"

"I'm not ready to be a mum"

"Nobody ever is, but you heard the doctor when you feel that wave of pain you push as hard as you can" the wave of pain hits me and I push like Polly said

"Ok good. I need another big one like that ok?" the doctor says earning a nod from me. This goes on for a while until Im finally holding my baby I'm my arms. A little boy

"It's Isaiah's isn't it?" Polly sighs. I nod my head. We had been secretly courting each other for the last year now

"Toms gonna kill 'im Poll" I say worriedly

"No he's not”

Everyone's going to hate me now. Im an unmarried woman with a baby. People are racist Poll they're going to hate us all"

"Who cares what people think. I'm going to find Isaiah and bring him here to meet his son and I'm going to stop your brothers from drinking themselves silly"

Isaiah came over to meet his son, while Polly does damage control with my brothers. When they come over they are a lot calmer that I expect them to be. I guess Aunt Polly can me very scary when she wants to be

"So what's little lads name?" Arthur asks through gritted teeth

"Walter Shelby Jesus" I smile looking down at the newborn

"I'll ask Esme where the kids old clothes are"

"Thanks John" I give him a little smile

"So when's the wedding?" Tommy asks

"Tommy not now" Polly scolds shaking her head "let them be for now. Right come on let's leave them alone"

"That's how they go into this mess" Arthur mumbles

"Out now. Come on" Polly usurers everyone out of the room leaving Isaiah and I to fall in love with our baby.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #Finn Shelby #sister shelby #shelby sister

[letrune]

I hate "the AI future"

My main training is in IT, and I was told often that they don't need me - they got "AI". So I worked a bit with art to make ends meet. "Oh, why should we commission you? We got AI". So now I do some work that I am not qualified for and only can do it because it is not heavy work. I am able to do it, but it is not even at minimum wage.

And I am lucky that I have that. I went to manual labour places, where the foreman looked at me, and went "sorry, no. Please look elsewhere". I was told I am overqualified to be a janitor or a server. I was told I need even more stuff I can't afford to do shelf stacking or delivering pizza.

So... "AI" will take our jobs, so when we can't do things - where will we get money? WHO will be able to buy any of the slop being tossed out? It is a monopoly, because these "AI" companies all made their internet scraping machines. We can't really fix this any more, I fear, but...

People won't care. They don't want to care. It's not something you can fix if we install a fully automated gay space communism tomorrow - because this is using human apathy for the way it can spread. The future generations will "enjoy" the mass produced slop, and wonder why they feel empty.

You know, I think the major fault to it is because people were enamoured by the "free" stuff, even as the real costs came out - artists being fired, insane power costs, water and electricity bills well beyond a smaller developed country, the whole market being slowly overtaken by megacorps and silicon valley techbros, and so on - and it is understandable. It was a fun toy and a strange little tool, but now that this was found to "work", the same people who want you to get used to not own the items you buy and hold them hostage behind service costs want you to get used to it.

This is just going to collapse on itself. Like buttcoins and eneftees, the market got disrupted for a moment by people who don't understand the systems they want to replace, but it went from "monopoly money useful only for drugs" to "nobody will have a job that can not be automated, so everyone has to fight to become a factory worker or server"; and thus, here, nobody will be able to buy anything. It's like they figured out how to become the global industrial version of the Ottoman Empire or Tsarist Russia.

Spoiler alert: it will collapse on itself when nobody can buy anything the factories and the slop machines produce, and it will collapse hard. Question is, when and how will we get back from it? Will that future be any better, or we will get another loop from incompetent techbros trying to get their stupid Torment Nexus, and then wonder why it hurts?

Anyway, I am somewhat optimistic, but it requires people to realise what the costs are for "cheap" and "easy". It never is cheap and easy.

Until that, anyone who loves their "ai" slot machines should enjoy the slop being served for the enormous costs, and happily dig in, this will be all you get if you don't stop.

#artificial intelligence #personal rant #tired of the state of tech #ever since trans people and furries got pushed out

[itsdeathofabachelor]

I really like the dynamic I’ve created for Jotaro and Kakyoin in a modern day setting.

Like, Jotaro got an after school gig and instead of going to college he’s took a gap year off the funds of said job, which is like some sort of warehouse or labourer thing because he can dead-lift three hundred pounds.

(The fact that he can deadlift three hundred pounds is also why his manager lets him smoke and drink outside on his breaks as long as nobody else sees him and it doesn’t affect his work, which is doesn’t because a can of beer isn’t going to knock him on his ass being 6’5 and like two hundred pounds himself*)

And Kakyoin is in college for some sort of business something because he also doesn’t know what to do but his very traditional Japanese parents overseas refuse to raise a NEET so he picked whatever had the highest graduate rate and games alone in his apartment after classes.

They’re roommates now but had been friends since they were kids and had reconnected literally by chance, as Jotaro had been working at said labourering gig at that time to pay for his Mom’s medical bills.

Side note: in this au Holly’s sick but more chronic illness sick, and after Sadao realized she wasn’t getting better and, in fact, it was a lifelong illness, he told her to leave. As the Japanese High End music industry is extremely judgmental and he was advised by several of his coworkers (and mistresses) that it would ruin his image if he was branded as a nurse and homebody taking care of Holly while Jotaro was at school.

With that in mind, Jotaro and Holly moved to America to live with Holly’s father, Joseph. Who is considerably more racist and far less charming for people to over look said racism. Suzy Q, his late ex wife and Holly’s bio-mom, noticed that after he gained a few pounds and suddenly didn’t have pretty privilege anymore.

She still barges into Joseph’s house to visit Holly and Jotaro, much to Joseph’s dismay. Jotaro likes her but finds her pushy and touchy without asking for permission first.

Jotaro worked at the same job he does now immediately after school to avoid the jokes and pokes at his father and about his race from Joseph, and seeing his mother try to walk again and cry when she can’t— Lining up perfectly one day when Kakyoin was walking (having just recently moved from overseas into the area of Jotaro’s job site) back from a later class.

Looking up from his phone he saw Jotaro, who was looking right at him from across the road, past the wire fencing set up to stop anyone from getting into the site and messing with the machines.

Kakyoin didn’t recognize Jotaro nearly as quickly as Jotaro recognized him. So as Jotaro long-jumped over the fencing and came barrelling into the street to the sidewalk where he stood, there was a split second where he thought he was going to die by the hands of a two hundred and fifty pound silverback gorilla. Like in the bootleg movie he had just watched the night before. And he wondered if this was the digital pirating god finally taking his dues.

Quickly, I should note, I remember seeing a post somewhere about how Jotaro’s love language is soft but he’d never let you get that close to him (the post included a picture of a teddy bear in a steel cage to represent this) and I think that fits very well with my own fanon interpretation of Jotaro’s character.

However, I do also think after so much time spent trying to help his mother, dealing with the weight of having to be the only reliable shoulder for her to cry on (because we all know THIS Joseph doesn’t have a emotionally intelligent bone in his body) and also the crushing feeling of grinding your body into a pulp for both school and some labouring job you hate— after about the year or so he had been there— would have had him clinging to those hinges by his fingernails.

So, bam! The last comfort of his childhood that hadn’t been ripped away, standing awkwardly at the crosswalk because he wasn’t sure if he should jaywalk because there were no cars coming, or if he should wait because the statistics of automobile casualties due to the average pedestrian’s immortality complex when it comes to giant metal machines are flicking behind his eyelids— obviously, Jotaro loses his mind.

Imagine a black bear. Giant. Huge, okay? Got that?

That’s what Kakyoin was suffocating into as Jotaro hugged him so hard his pre-mature stand popped out a little from his back.

This Kakyoin, having no fighting instincts what-so-ever, kind of just goes limp. And Jotaro, so happy he’s really really upset, shakily puts him back down.

And then there’s a moment like, wait wait wait wait. . . I know that mean mug— and then Kakyoin sort of connects the dots because Jotaro had always been a lot taller than him and also he literally was the only person Kakyoin had ever known that had let him blow out his birthday candles at his seventh birthday party when he found out Kakyoin’s parents didn’t ’believe in birthdays’ other than ‘milestone birthdays’.

And Jotaro had also treated him with basic human decency, considering he could have very easily bullied him.

So his face was burned into his memory for years now, whenever he tried to socialize and said the wrong thing, or if he saw a friend group doing friend group activities and suddenly he felt very very lonely. He actually really missed his and Jotaro’s friendship.

So they became best friends again like immediately.

It turns out in their time apart, Kakyoin had gotten an Autism diagnosis, which explained his unusual speech pacing and all the other things leading to ruthless bullying in middle school.

When he told him this on the floor of Kakyoin’s apartment— both of them doing a Pokémon themed puzzle together even though Jotaro had trouble picking the pieces off the floor— Jotaro could not have given less of a shit, but instead asked if that’s why, when the were kids, Kakyoin had always asked him for ‘pressure’ (AKA, Jotaro being taller than Kakyoin made it so he could give him a hug or lay on top of him in order to provide a good sensory feeling, or what Kakyoin had called ‘Pressure’).

And Kakyoin’s like, ‘Yeah.’

And Jotaro’s like, ‘Do you need some now?’ And mutters something about not wanting him to freak because he’s over whelmed or anything but really he wants a hug and doesn’t want to be the one to ask.

And Kakyoin’s like, ‘Sure. That’d be nice because I couldn’t enjoy the other hug properly when thinking you were a stranger trying to kill me’.

And now they’re roommates and Kakyoin streams his gaming seshes after he realized his parent’s monthly payments towards his rent were giving them ammo for guilt-trips and that he could make money off of games.

Weirdly enough, the same speech abnormalities he got bullied for actually helped him get his streaming platform, as it became his ‘brand’ in a way. Same thing with his flat humour and ‘fun facts’. Also, because he talks so much, his streams are very long, and there’s a running joke in his audience to— when he’s saying he’s going to log off for the night— ask him questions and see how long they can keep him on stream.

He doesn’t have a face cam, and plans to remain faceless to his audience, so whenever he really needs to focus and Jotaro comes lumbering in from a hard day at work and kicks his shoes off, Kakyoin—laying on the couch—raises his arms with his controller clicking over his head, not looking away from the screen, and is like ‘Jotaro, pressure. Streaming.’

And Jotaro hears Ode To Joy playing in his head as he tosses his ballcap with the company’s logo somewhere behind the tv and falls facefirst onto Kakyoin, who, after getting the air pressed out of his lungs, wins his match and talks to the chat.

The chat, obviously, asks about Jotaro, and Kakyoin just says, ‘A good friend of mine gifts me plus five stamina.’ Or some nerd shit.

* I headcannon Jotaro as fucking huge btw but that’s because I love very large angry men who, when relaxed, melts into a puddle of goo because their muscles aren’t straining. Jotaro has that kind of physique. Suzie Q (being Italian) loves this as Jotaro burns more calories flexing all day because he’s so stressed and tensed about everything, than a two mile sprint. So he eats. A lot. He’s one of the only people who actually eats enough not to have left overs. It impresses Joseph more than he’d ever admit.

#jojo headcanons #jojo stardust crusaders #jotaro kujo #jjba #jojo #noriaki kakyoin #jjba kakyoin #jjba jotaro #jotakak #noritaro #I love them #I can’t think of anything else sorry #this is a long one #alternate universe

[writingsofwesteros]

Can you do one for Ser Harwin strong x Targaryen reader where she’s in labor and just have a very sweet moment between them and their new born son please.

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

A SON

You had ordered the ladies in waiting out of the birthing room as your labour continued. You hated an audience and it wasn’t as if they could really help. Only you and your husband remained; your husband of a year now and already you were about to give birth to your first child.

It hadn’t been an easy marriage; you always thought he wanted your sister and in the lonely nights you sometimes wondered if he still did. Not that you shared these thoughts when Harwin had been so sweet to you. It felt like you were betraying him as you seemingly thought bad of him. 

“You are amazing.” Harwin whispered from the side of you as he knelt beside your bed. God, had he always been so handsome, you thought to yourself. That was until the pain ripped through you and had you crying out. Your hand reached for him desperately as your heart raced. The fear in your heart was nearly crippling.

All you could think about was your mother’s experience but somehow his presence had you calming. “This is your fault.” You whimpered out and you knew he was hiding his chuckles that were your favourite sound usually but now wasn’t the time. “It is?” Harwin whispered and allowed you to hold his hand incredibly tight.

You could only nod as you tried to fight through this moment. Soft tears moved down your cheeks as the whimpers of pain only echoed around the room. Gods, he hated the sight of you like this. His own fear was in his heart but he needed to be strong for you. Gently, Harwin brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to them. “I love you.” He whispered before leaning in to brush your noses together. “Only you, you know that?” Harwin hummed; he knew what went on in your pretty little head. “I know…I love you too.” You whimpered out as another contraction raced through your body and you pushed. “I think it’s getting closer.”

“You are doing so well.” He whispered into your ear; slowly stroking your bright locks out of your face as you became sweaty. Harwin gently cupped your face as you locked eyes with him. You pushed again and burrowed into his neck as soft sobs escaped you. His mouth watering scent moved over you.

The moments that passed seemed to stretch forever as he continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. You pushed and cried again and again until a new cry sounded out with you. You whimpered and your head fell back to the pillows as Harwin gently moved to clean the babe and present him to you.

You had never felt exhaustion like this before as you tried to settle on the mountain of pillows behind you. “We have a son.” Harwin whispered as if he was the most precious thing to exist; which he truly was for you both. You hated the relief that flooded you; you knew your husband would have loved a daughter just as much.

“He’s beautiful.” You commented as your loving husband gently placed the babe in your arms. Harwin slowly moved onto the bed with you as you both looked down. “Gets that from his mother.” He whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help but giggle. His silver tongue still worked, you thought to yourself.

You shook your head at his antics as you cooed down to the whimpering baby. He really was so precious, you thought to yourself as your soft smile only widened. Your fingers gently stroked his little cheek and he seemed to move into your touch. You moved the covers to warm him slightly.

You were thankful that nobody seemed to be coming to you now that the cries of pain had stopped. You hoped they would give you some space as you cuddled the babe closer to you. “You are a Goddess.” Harwin whispered into your ear; his fingers moving through your locks once more.

“I’m not.” You whispered, ducking your head for a moment. You looked a mess, you thought to yourself and was thankful when your husband brought your locks out of your face. It wasn’t long before you had to place your head on his shoulder; the exhaustion returned to you once you’d enjoyed the moment.

“I’m glad we have a little family.” Harwin whispered to you; his tone so soft as he kept you both close. His protectiveness is already rising inside of him. Nobody would touch you or your son; he promised that to whoever was listening. “Me too.” You hummed; your eyes sleepily fluttering as a soft yawn escaped you.

Harwin could only think about expanding his little family; not that he shared those thoughts with you as you slowly fell asleep against him. He’d take his time and have you in the throws of passion before asking you for another. He hummed happily and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

He was glad the marriage had worked out so well as the months passed on. He knew you worried about whatever connection had been between him and Rhaenyra but there was nothing there now. You were all that mattered to him; and the little babe sleeping peacefully in your arms. 

“I love you.” He whispered to you both and gently placed you down onto the bed. Harwin arranged the covers so you were both warm and safe as he moved to rest on his side. He wouldn’t sleep but he would watch over you; like he would do for the rest of his life. “You are very cute.” He chuckled down at the baby.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the little baby’s forehead and whispered sweet nothings. “You know you can’t whisper.” You softly hummed with your eyes still shut. Your body and mind was completely relaxed at being in such a happy state even after the pains of birth had only just ended.

“I’m sorry my love.” He cooed into your ear and gently took the baby boy from you so you could settle into his chest. You always enjoyed sleeping against him; the sense of security he gave you was unparalleled. “Are you not tired?” You whispered to him as your hand slowly moved up and down his chest.

“Not now.” Harwin promised and you couldn’t help but smile at the guardian angel he was being. You couldn’t have been more lucky, you thought to yourself as you finally returned back to your sleep. The dreams were just as blissful and happy as the reality you were now living in that you never thought possible.

#harwin strong x reader #request

[ymaohoh]

'Rule 63' - Hellcheer Fic - Oneshot

Superstar athlete Chris Cunningham is struggling with nightmares and visions and goes to freaky Ellie Munson for relief. Rule 63' - Gender Swap - Hellcheer AU Basically a gender swap version of 'Chrissy Lives' Characters are kind of OC but not really. I've tried to keep them as character-based as possible but there had to be minor tweaks to make it realistic in the 80's. POV switches between characters.

Ellie is 19. Chris is 18. Really enjoyed writing this one. Let me know what you think and if I should do another chapter. Also on Archive. Word count: 9,322 Rated: No ratings, some swearing.

Setting: Hawkins High School

Date: 1986, baby

Introducing: 

Ellie Munson, lead guitarist in amateur rock band Corroded Coffin, repeating her senior year again because she has crap grades and a rebellious streak. Her interests? Dungeons and Dragons (she runs the Hellfire Club as D&M and rules with an iron fist), listening to heavy metal at full volume with the car windows rolled down, and reading (and getting high to) The Hobbit, Dune, and other fantasy books which let her drift away. She was the school pariah because she didn’t play by the same rules - ‘a freak’ - and people just didn’t like her very much. The other students (and most of Hawkins) hissed she was a ‘bad influence’ - a junkie slut, trailer trash, juvenile delinquent - who would no doubt end up just like her shitty mom. Oh they were just waiting for the day she stumbled and proved them right. 

Ellie wasn’t so sure - she was mean and scary, yes, and she played up the freak role at school because it made certain dickheads keep their distance - but she knew she wanted more out of life. This year she was getting her diploma and getting the fuck out of Hawkins and away from these small-minded hicks. They could literally kiss her ass. 

Introducing: 

Chris Cunningam, captain of the basketball team and hot-shot athlete with college scholarships coming out of his ears. His interests? Sports, tutoring (his grades were outstanding), and being a perfect all-round good guy who everybody simply fawned over. Guys were lining up to be his buddy and girls wanted to date him. You’d think he’d be this obnoxious douchebag but Chris stood out from his peers - he was kind, patient, always looking out for the little guy. Everyone knew Chris had the perfect future lined up for the taking (a stable high-earning job within his dad’s law firm, a big house with the white picket fence, a beautiful wife and children). 

Chris wasn’t so sure - people didn’t want to see the real him - the guy who hated parties and crowds, who couldn’t do anything without his dad breathing down his fucking neck, who was so petrified of letting people down and not being perfect that it gave him panic attacks. Nobody asked him what he wanted to do after school and sometimes (just sometimes) he would let himself imagine a future away from Hawkins and all the stress. 

Enter stage left: 

Ellie was known to be the school dealer. She even had a system; people would drop a note in her locker with a time and place and she would meet them, easy peasy. Her rules? Cash only, not on a night when she had Hellfire, and absolutely no questions. She didn’t give a shit about why they wanted the weed or who they wanted to impress, she just wanted to get in and out with zero complications. Selling weed was not something she wanted to do forever but it meant she could save up for if - no, when - she graduated. 

She couldn’t exactly get a normal job packing groceries because the whole town thought she was a good-for-nothing junkie who would steal from the tills rather than do an honest day’s labour, and she was too young to work in the factory with her aunt. 

Some of the money went towards helping her aunt with the bills. Wendy took her in when she was still a kid and her parents split in the middle of the night without even a goodbye or see you later. Wendy was a confirmed spinster and worked a lot so Ellie often had the trailer to herself, but they made it work. She was nice, sturdy, calm; a good balance to Ellie’s puzzling inner chaos. 

(she tried explaining to Mr Kelley about her crazy brain and how sometimes it wouldn’t let her focus but he just told her to lay off the pot, which to be fair wasn’t terrible advice overall). 

So when Ellie arrived at school (late as usual) and found a neatly folded note in her locker she didn’t really give it much thought until she saw the initials at the bottom - C.C.

No fucking way…

But it had to be him because who else would write please and thank you in a drug note then the resident goody-two-shoes Chris Cunningham? 

She only had one class with Chris - English (her worst and seemingly his best) - and he was different from the other douchebag jocks. He never once picked on her or called her a freak and even told the cheerleader Patty to lay off when she tried stealing her notes. He’d smiled and given her a little nod as to say ‘it’s cool’ and for a second he made her believe it. That was the thing about Chris: he was nice, he was kind, and he never told a lie. 

(it was no wonder she struggled in that class, but she would rather die than tell judgy ol’ Mr O'Donnell about it).

Chris had a killer smile too - though his front tooth was slightly crooked (which somehow made it even better?) - and the bluest eyes she ever saw. He was also ripped. He must work out a lot because his arms looked like they could easily toss you over his strong shoulder or rip a phonebook in half. Not that she’d noticed, obviously, but the scribbles in the bathroom stalls went on and on about his muscles, his shoe size, his (perfect) butt. To her absolutely shame (and she would never ever admit it even under torture) she once imagined in class how nice it might be to be held by those arms. Ugh. 

Sure she was an outcast and liked traditionally unfeminine pursuits, but she was still a girl. She had hormones and feelings and all the crazy stuff that made teenage years super fun. 

(and yeah Chris had once cheered for her during a stupid talent contest in middle school but that was years ago and he was only being nice). 

It would never happen, this wasn’t The Breakfast Club (Wendy loved these kinds of films - she would drag Ellie to the video rental place every weekend for a new one. Ellie liked Robin who worked there (he was pretty outlandish too) but former ‘It Girl’ Stacey was intimidating as fuck. She had no idea how the two were friends). 

Chris was a solid 9 whereas she was a 3 on a good day if she stopped doing weird shit to her hair. He might be Emilio Estevez but she was no Ally Sheedy. 

Even if she wanted to suddenly change her clothes and slap on some make up (seriously, what was that ending?), those big strong arms were busy hugging his actual girlfriend Jackie Carver (and carrying her books, opening doors for her, probably opening goddamn jars too). Jackie Carver was head cheerleader and the darling of the school. She was the perfect match for Chris in every conceivable way; church going, wholesome, sickeningly rich. Apart from the occasional teasing, the jocks tended to leave Ellie alone for the most part but the cheerleaders were another matter entirely. They loathed her - and to be fair, she hated them right back. Jackie was the ringleader and Ellie simply loved getting a rise out of her.

(this wasn’t hard to do; she only had to mention how she was joining a Satan-worshipping cult and little Miss Carver would hiss like an alley cat). 

So yeah, in conclusion Chris was a good guy and the last person she would ever expect to ask for drugs. It almost made her want to break rule number three. 

His note asked to meet at the abandoned picnic bench during lunch period which meant she had to wolf down her sandwich and get a move on. She told her little sheepies with a wink she had private business to attend to and left before they could give her any sass (Dusty was seriously showing too much attitude for her own good). Her bandmates only nodded, well used to her side-hustle. 

As she walked through the trees she had a fleeting thought that this could be a prank or a set up. Were the cheerleaders waiting to jump her and steal her stash or tip another slushie down the front of her shirt? (that was a seriously shit day). Would Queen Bee Jackie be waiting instead of her prized King? 

Ellie was too scrawny to be a fighter, but her dad had done at least one useful thing in teaching her how to throw a punch (when he still gave a shit) and she was scrappy. She could also read people and situations well. She kinda’ had to. As a girl dealer in 80’s Indiana it was crucial she could make speedy decisions on whether best to fight or fly. 

She decided to run at the first sight of a green and orange pom pom. 

And maybe a tiny part of her was quite interested to meet Cunningham alone in the woods. 

**

Chris was going insane…or maybe not insane exactly, but he was definitely on the edge of some kind of nervous breakdown. His head was pounding and he was so damn tired from all the restless nights. He hadn’t felt this bad since freshman year when he was trying to beef up enough to make the team (months of eating nothing but carbs and protein shakes/constant calorie counting/early morning runs that made him want to puke his guts out). 

He needed some kind of relief. 

Painkillers did nothing and he wouldn’t go near his mom’s valium in case she noticed (though the odds of that were…yeah). He saw Mr Kelley at their weekly therapy sessions but it would sound so dumb if he started bringing up the strange ticking noises and dreams that seemed more like hallucinations. It was too dangerous anyway; he'd probably tell his coach who would then blab to his parents. Then he’d really get it in the neck. His parents hated anything out of the ordinary. He could already hear his dad calling him a punk, a loser, and an embarrassment. 

“Chrissss,” he’d say, dragging it out like he always did when he was mad. “I’ve worked hard to give you and your sister everything. Now you want to wreck it all by crying about feelings like some girl? Get a grip, son. A real man knows who he is and what he wants out of life. Don’t let me down.”

In the end it was a teammate who suggested Ellie Munson. He told him about the note system too. He warned Chris that Ellie was creepy and to be careful, even if she did sell decent pot. She wasn’t the kind of girl you wanted to know.

He was anxious as hell as he walked to the meeting spot, and more so when he got there and saw…no one. 

Damn. Had she not seen the note? Or maybe she just didn’t want to sell to him? He didn’t really know Ellie personally but being a high-school athlete came hand in hand with a certain…reputation. Perhaps she thought he was just another cliche dumb jock looking to make trouble?

(he knew the guys gave her a hard time and tried to intervene when he saw it. He hated bullies - they reminded him of his crappy dad - but yeah, he could probably do more if he was honest with himself. It was hard when Ellie basically gave the finger to anyone who even approached her though). 

With a sigh, he decided to head back. This was all probably a bad idea anyway; he’d never even touched a joint before and if his parents or coach or Jackie found out they’d seriously kill him. His perfectly curated image would be in shatters. 

And Jackie could be really cold when she wanted to be. It always made him feel like he was walking on eggshells. 

But then Chris heard that creepy ticking noise again and he flinched back. 

Then a snap.

He whirled around and came face to face with Ellie Munson, who held her hands up. “Woah…hey…sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. You okay?”

Chris nodded but he kept back. The ticking had stopped but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t start back up again. God, he really was going insane. He’d end up like Jack Nicholson in that creepy film with the white straight jackets at this rate. 

Ellie sat down at the table and placed a black lunchbox next to her. “There's, uh... There's nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here. We're safe. I promise.”

Chris looked at her properly. Ellie Munson was known about school to be wild and weird and most people avoided her. She looked weird in her black ripped jeans, leather jacket, and faded denim vest covered with band patches and pins. Even her leather boots were scuffed and way too big to belong to her. Her hair was wild too; an explosion of messy brown curls that fell to her waist with a knotted bandana (failing) to keep it away from her face. She didn’t wear makeup like Jackie but he noticed three heavy silver rings on her fingers (again, way too big for her). Her ears were heavily pierced and…yeah…one even had a safety pin through it. 

He knew she liked to kick up a fuss in the cafeteria and make loud bizarre speeches about inequality and feminist rights, she never ever attended class (when she did she preferred to sleep in the back row), and could swear like a biker. She also protected a flock of freshmen like a mother hen. So yeah weird but she wore it well. She wore it in a way that proclaimed proudly she didn’t give a shit what other people thought about her, which was…actually pretty cool. 

Ellie’s boldness and shere cheek should by all rights freak him out, but it didn’t. Instead he felt a strange twist of jealousy in his chest; he’d love to borrow that nerve and tell the people around him to leave him the hell alone. 

So when she told him they were safe, he found himself believing her (even though she was like half his height and he definitely bench pressed heavier weights than her). Strange.   

“So, how does this work exactly?” he asked, sitting down too. 

“Oh, just like any other old sale, except, uh, cash only, and, uh, for obvious reasons, no receipts. I'll do you a half ounce for, uh... 20. What do you say? Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last a while.”

Another snap. He shuddered and rubbed his temples. 

“Hey, uh, we don't need to do this. Just give me the word and I'll walk away. Okay?”

She was looking at him with something like real concern flashing in her brown eyes. He felt oddly touched. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone looked at him like that.  

“It's not that. I don't want you to go. It's just…” he took a deep breath to steady himself. “Do you ever feel like you're losing your mind?” 

He half expected her to leg it but to his surprise Ellie just grinned. Up close, he noticed a dimple in her left cheek which was pretty cute. 

“Um, you know, just... on a daily basis. I feel like I'm losing my mind right now doing a drսg deal with Chris Cunningham, the King of Hawkins High.” 

Chris could feel his cheeks burning - he hated being called that. That was all Jackie’s doing. She had big plans that they were going to be crowned at prom and then probably marry right out of school and…ugh. He was about to say so when Ellie went on…

“You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um... hung out.”

“I'm sorry. I…”

“That's okay.”

Before he could say another word, Ellie launched herself back off the table and he sprang to his feet to…help? Catch her? Check she was ok? But Ellie was grinning again and he found it so infectious that he smiled right back. 

“I wouldn't remember me either, Chris. Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?” she laughed. There were brown and gold leaves in her hair but instead of fixing it (like Jackie might’ve) she shook it out and seemed totally unfazed. “You don't remember me?”

“I’m sorry!” Chris laughed. 

“Middle school, talent show? You were doing the basketball thing. You know, the... dribbling… thing you do. It was pretty cool, actually. And I... I was with my band.” 

Then it hit him. “Corroded Coffin! Yes, of course. With a name like that, how could I forget?”

“I dunno. You're a freak.”

Ellie was beaming and Chris sat back down on the edge of the table to watch her. If anyone else called him a freak he might’ve been offended but Ellie said it like it was a badge of honour. Her dimple was back. 

A vague memory of a tiny girl with patched dungarees holding a guitar suddenly came back to him. She’d been waiting to go out on stage with her friends, terrified and clearly falling to bits with nerves. Chris had smiled and wished her luck, and afterwards whooped and clapped so hard he thought his hands might fall off. His dad had ripped him to shreds for his own performance - but her little crooked smile and twinkling eyes stayed with him. “No, you just... You looked so... Different?” 

“Yeah. Well, uh, my hair was shorter and I had braces, and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet.”

She tugged at the neck of her shirt (with Hellfire written across the front) and he spotted a line of black ink just underneath her collarbone. He knew some girls got tattoos - not any of the girls he knew, of course - and Ellie implied she had more than one. He felt himself blush again when he realised he wanted to see more. Which would obviously be really inappropriate and creepy. 

He was very aware of the fact they were all alone and he was significantly bigger than her, even if Ellie didn’t seem to notice. He dragged his gaze back to the safety of her face. 

Thankfully his voice didn’t betray any of what he was feeling. “You played guitar, right?”

“Uh-huh. Still do. Still do. You should come see us. Uh, we play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. It's pretty cool. We... We actually get a crowd of about five drunks. It's not exactly the Garden, but you gotta start somewhere, right?”

He was surprised she was allowed to go to The Hideout at all with drunk guys - let alone to play in a band. Maybe her boyfriend went along to keep her safe? Chris didn’t even know her that well and he wanted to. “You know, you're not what I thought you'd be like.” 

“Mean and scary?” 

That’s what Jackie or his friends would say. “Yeah.�� 

“Yeah, well, I actually kinda thought you'd be kinda mean and scary too.” 

He actually snorted at that. “Me?”

Ellie laughed and when she laughed she did it properly - lips wide, eyes bright, her head tossed back. It was so incredibly animated and warm and real that it made Chris want to huddle closer to her flame. She perched on the seat beside him and opened up the lunchbox. 

“Terrifying. Uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so... Twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here, you know.”

Oh right. Drugs. He’d almost forgotten. He’d enjoyed speaking to her so much (and watching her - she was more interesting to look at than anyone else he knew) that for a brief wonderful moment the ticking and spiders and nightmares vanished. 

But they came back back now and he felt himself physically recoil. 

“Do you have anything maybe stronger?”

He didn’t think anything shocked Ellie Munson, but that sure did. 

**

Right. So perfect wholesome Chris Cunningham was sitting in her crappy van and they were driving back to her trailer. 

He said he wanted something harder than weed and Ellie said yes but obviously didn’t keep that kind of thing at school. She offered to meet him the following day (same time, same place, even though it was a Saturday) but Chris had looked so serious when he asked if he could please possibly get it tonight after the game and her club meeting. She’d been too taken back by the intensity in his eyes to say anything other than yes, honestly. So they met later that evening by her van and he actually opened the door for her. Ellie couldn’t remember anyone ever doing that kind of thing for her before. 

(she’d had a short-lived daliance with a boy from her art class and he’d brought her roses and candy, but the next day he was sucking face with a girl from their photography class who put out, so it wasn’t really what you’d call meaningful).

She thanked him and hopped up into the driver’s seat (damn it, she was too short for anything elegant) and Chris slid in beside her. He was polite enough not to mention the many takeout coffee cups, the spare and broken tapes cluttering the floor, or the very used mattress in the back (used for when she needed to transport band equipment). He said his own car was in the shop right now and he’d caught a lift this morning. 

“Seriously, I’m not trying to make a move or anything…I just need something to help, you know?”

It hadn’t even crossed her simple puny mind that Chris might have any ulterior motive to coming back to her trailer. Maybe some guys might but that didn’t seem to be his style. 

“Am I your piece of rough, Cunningham? Not worried one of your team mates might see you slumming it with me?” Ellie said, only part joking. 

Chris blushed and rolled his eyes. “You make me sound like a total prude. Aren’t you worried about your badass image being tanked by me?” 

She liked it when he blushed. Luckily with his pale skin and colouring, he had no chance at masking it. 

“Glad you brought it up actually, can you duck down ‘til we get out the gates? One look at that letterman jacket and my scary reputation is kaput,” she smirked. She turned on the radio and heavy metal music blasted out from the speakers. She thought he might ask to turn it down and was pleasantly surprised when he said he didn’t mind it. “Sorry, I don’t have any Cyndi Lauper or Billy Joel…”

“Get lost,” he laughed. “Do not start quoting Uptown Girl (Boy) at me, Munson.” 

It was almost too easy to make Chris laugh. She’d enjoyed messing with him back in the woods and wondered what other buttons she could press. What got under his skin? 

There must be something, obviously, if he was asking her for ketamine. 

You’ve gotta’ cool it, she told herself. Yeah he’s super cute and remembered the band but you weren’t really joking…he would absolutely be slumming it with you. He’s not even the same species AND he has a girlfriend who looks like she could be a runner up for Miss America. 

Inwardly sighing at her lot in life, she bravely asked, “So how was the game? Did you - uh - throw some balls into laundry baskets?”

Chris looked sideways at her, obviously surprised that she cared so little for something the entire school (including the faculty) seemed crazy about, but then started chuckling again. “Yeah, we…we won actually. It was a championship game.”

“Oh…good. Glad it went well for you.” Ellie wound down the window and lit a cigarette as they neared a stop sign. She offered him one and he took it after only a split-second hesitation. 

“Thanks. We practised really hard and I’m proud of how well we all came together. It’s one of the things I like most about playing sports, you know? The team work,” he added. “Ever been to a rally?”

She’d never thought about sports like that before, it always just seemed like one big popularity contest. His enthusiasm kind of humbled her a bit. “Uh - no, not high on my ‘to do’ list, I’m afraid. I’d be too worried about one of the cheerleaders drop-kicking me honestly.” 

“Oh really? Are they…what? They mean to you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Cunningham?”

He didn’t look like he was bullshitting her. He looked genuinely confused…“Sorry, I don’t really know…”

She thought about all the times the cheerleaders stole her clothes (and dumped them in the toilets) after gym class, how they tried to trip her up in the halls, how they filled her locker with shaving foam so all her notes were useless, how they stuck gum in her hair and Wendy had no choice but to cut it out leaving her with a tuft that stuck out for ages. 

Yeah, she could see how Miss Carver would want to keep that all hush hush from her lovely boyfriend. 

“Yeah, I mean it’s not your problem so you don’t need to apologise, but yeah they make my life pretty miserable on a daily basis. They pick on the freshmen too and that really gets under my skin,” she added. “Your buddies on the team can be real jerks too. It’s why I stopped dealing at those jock parties. Those meatheads can call you a freak and ignore you at school, but after a couple of beers they get pretty shitty if you catch my drift.” 

“They’ve messed with you?”

“Tried to. I just avoid it all now.”

Chris seemed honestly shocked at that and his hand twitched like he wanted to…what? Comfort her? She felt a bit bad - he obviously had no idea about what kind of people he chose to hang around. “That’s seriously not on. Not to you or the kids,” he muttered. “Does…Jackie…?”

Ellie actually snorted. “No way, Chris. She’s your girlfriend and there’s no way I’m airing out her dirty laundry. These lips will remain sealed.” 

“But…I could try talking to her?” 

Maybe Chris speaking to Jackie on her behalf might help for a week or two (Jackie would be sure to cry a little and pout and say no honey, she’s really stupid, she must be mistaken) but then Jackie would be livid. She’d think she was deliberately trying to split them up or something. 

The little chaos demon in her brain thought fuck it, ask him anyway. 

“Nah, it would only make it worse. Just…drop it, okay? Thanks but I can look after myself for a few more months. After that? I’m getting out of this craphole and I’ll never see those shitheads again.” 

She could tell he didn’t want to drop it but also didn’t want to push her either. She appreciated that - she hated it when people tried shoving in and telling her what to do. Was it the same for Chris? 

So instead Chris sighed and ran a hand through his short hair as he finished up his cigarette. She glanced at his blond hair - it had hints of red if you looked closely, so it was more of a strawberry blonde. It was buzzed short at the back and sides, but the longer hair on top looked thick and soft. He was still wearing his game clothes and they did little to hide the thick muscular expanse of his chest and arms. As Dio played on the radio, she wondered what Chris might look like in rockstar jeans and a leather jacket like the guys at The Hideout wore. 

Probably just as great as he did in his usual preppy acid-wash jeans and sneakers. 

She tried to imagine herself in the kind of clothes Jackie typically wore (very Molly Ringwald) with her hair brushed and professionally styled, bright eyeshadow smudged around her eyes, eating fucking sushi and cheerleading. Shit, it would be like watching a toad kiss a prince but without the Disney ending. It just wasn’t her. 

Ellie kept her eyes forward on the road like a very very good driver. 

Chris nobley changed the subject. “So what’s this Hellfire about? It’s not actually a satanic cult, right?”

Ellie huffed out a laugh. “I wish. It’s just a club where we play Dungeons and Dragons. It’s like a board game but we use our imaginations. The others built their own characters but I’m Dungeon Master - D&M - so I kind of plan it all out. There’s about seven of us right now, and we just finished a pretty sick campaign called the Curse of Vecna…” she trailed off. “Whoops, sorry. I can kind of get carried away with this stuff.”

“No way, it sounds interesting!” She glanced at him to make sure (again) he wasn’t making fun of her, but yeah, he did look interested. “I’ve heard about it - it’s got elves and goblins and stuff, right? Like Tolkien?”

“Holy crap. You’ve read Tolkien? Don’t tease me now - the Chris Cunningham has a secret nerdy side?”

Chris grinned. “My uncle lent me the books when I was still a kid. Totally loved them. I always wanted to be like Aragorn with a sword and armour…well, right up until my dad saw and tossed them out in the trash. Didn’t line up with his grand plan for me.” 

“Plan?”

“Yeah…my parents are pretty strict. They - uh - have my whole life planned out for me, you know?”

Ellie didn’t know. Her parents didn’t even have plans for their own lives, let alone a kid they never wanted. She knew she wanted to leave Hawkins but after that? Life was fuzzy. 

“Well...if you ever want to sit in on a game and watch, I can probably convince the girls you aren’t a spy. You’d be more than welcome. It’s usually on the night you have practice though.” 

“Well… maybe one day I can flake? I’d like to watch you. Play, I mean. I’d like to watch you play,” he coughed. “It’s really cool how you look after those freshmen - they seem to really look up to you - makes me think you might be a softie underneath, Ellie.” 

Ellie fucking cackled. “No no no. That’s too much now. First you want to buy drugs, then you offer to ditch sports to watch my nerdy game, and now telling me I’m a softie when you’re basically a walking teddy bear? Are you even a jock? I thought all you meatheads lived and breathed school spirit, right? My dumb perception of high school is being massacred.”

But actually there did seem to be a hell of a lot more to Chris then she could’ve ever guessed. Hidden layers, and all that. 

“Maybe I’m more than a cliche. Right, Munson?” 

And he gave her such a deliberate look that she sniggered and shook her head. Point very well made. She noticed a faint scattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks that really suited him. 

“Well… you got me there.”

She turned off the main road towards Forest Hills and now Metallica blasted out of the speakers. They were quiet for a little bit but it wasn’t awkward. 

“Seriously, thank you for this,” Chris suddenly said. “I feel…more normal…more awake…than I have for weeks.” 

Ellie smiled, and this time it was friendly and yeah soft. Damn it. 

“This is such a weird fucking day.”

**

Ellie pulled up outside her trailer and Chris slid out somewhat nervously. He’d never been to Forest Hills trailer park before and wasn’t sure what to expect. His parents and Jackie made it out to be some cesspit of evil - “a place filled with drunks, degenerates, single parents” - but all he saw was the soft glow of lights as families ate their dinners and settled down for the evening. Little Ellie Munson switched off the ignition, shouldered her backpack (heavy with D&D journals), and waved for him to follow as she found her door key. She told him this was her castle and he found himself smiling, once again at ease. 

(he almost offered to carry her bag but her lunchtime rants indicated she might see this as patronising. He’d felt like a total idiot earlier when he held the door open and she’d carefully arched an eyebrow.)

Jackie always expected these things of him and got royally pissed if he forgot. It would be nice to offer for once without it being demanded. 

Ellie told him her aunt Wendy was working a night shift so they’d have some privacy. 

He blushed, eyeing the neighbouring trailer quickly to see if anyone was spying through the curtains (his mom would be). “What about your folks?” he found himself asking, following her inside. 

“Oh they split ages ago. Pops found himself a new shiny family, and I think mom’s still in jail? She could be dead in a ditch somewhere, for all I know. They don’t exactly keep in touch,” she said, shrugging. “Want something to drink? Beer, coffee, water?”

She spoke like none of it mattered but her shrug was a little too casual. 

“Uh…water would be great.” 

Inside the trailer wasn’t what he’d expected at all. It was small, sure, but clean and neat. It was also really homely looking. Plenty of bright pictures on the walls, dollar store knick knacks decorating the sides, squashy cushions on the couch. Her aunt must really like teapots because there was a whole wall dedicated to her collection. He compared it to his own sterile home which looked more like a showroom. 

Ellie dropped her bag on the couch and toed off her big boots in the middle of the room. Chris did the same only he lined his sneakers up neatly by the door (a habit). She passed him a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“You never worry about being home alone so much? Is it…safe?” 

“Yeah, it’s alright here and I can always run over to Mr Mayfield’s if there’s an emergency. He’s over in the trailer opposite,” she added, fiddling with the radio so music started playing. “Besides, when I’m on my lonesome I can play whatever music I want. Helps me relax, you know? And concentrate.” 

“Seriously? That blows my brain. I need, like, total silence to read or study. I’d love some time on my own but my schedule’s real tight. There’s always something to do, or someone wanting something.” He caught her looking at him. “Yeah I know, poor little rich boy. I sound like an asshole.” 

“Everyone’s got issues,” she shrugged. She gestured for him to take a seat and tucked some of her wild hair back behind her ear. He wondered if it felt as springy as it looked. “Make yourself at home, okay? I’ll go get the Special K.” 

She went back to what was presumably her bedroom and Chris took a sip of the water. The music coming out of the radio wasn’t Ellie’s usual madness, maybe it was a station her aunt liked? 

Tick. 

Christ, really? His head had been blissfully quiet ever since meeting with Ellie. Her noise and bustle, her liveliness, had been like a balm to his nerves. 

He found himself bouncing his leg. He tried to take a deep breath. 

Tick. 

“How long will it take to work?” he called, trying to distract himself. 

“Depends on if you…snort it or not. If you snort it…then yeah, it’ll work pretty quick,” she said when she came back. She was biting her bottom lip and holding a bag of something that looked like powder. “Look, I’m going to break one of my infamous rules right now, but I have to ask…have you ever done anything like this before? Kind of worried you’re going to spiral and get into some serious trouble. You can do it here if you want? Then at least I’ll be around to keep an eye out. My aunt won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” 

Again it kind of sounded like Ellie actually cared (or at least she didn’t want him to die in a K-Hole). Her offer relieved some of the tension in his shoulders and he nodded gratefully. 

“She won’t mind you having a boy here?”

Ellie actually laughed out loud at that and even snorted. His mouth twitched into a grin. She joined him on the couch - though left a deliberate space in between. 

She’d shrugged off her jacket by now and wore only the black and white Hellfire shirt and jeans. He could see another tattoo winding along her elbow that looked like bats. He wondered if she did them herself or went to the one parlour in town (run by an ex-biker who looked gruff and shady). Didn’t her aunt mind? 

But then Ellie was nineteen, a year older than him. She was legally allowed to lift her shirt and have whoever she wanted ink her skin. 

“She’d never believe me,” Ellie chuckled, dragging his thoughts back into the room. “I don’t have guys ‘round here ever.” 

“No way…really?” Chris raised his eyebrows. “No boyfriend or anything?” 

He pictured some tall shaggy haired guy with biker boots and tattoos. He’d have to be in a band (maybe they practised together?) and wear the same style of silver jewellery she did (now he thought about it - those big rings probably were his). He’d smoke pot and read Dune and tell people loudly to fuck off if they bothered him. A guy who could go to The Hideout every week and watch her play, and cheer and hangbang like her own weird cheerleader. The kind of guy, in short, that Chris definitely was not. 

He suddenly thought about himself standing beside Ellie with his arm tight around her shoulders. She was so small that he could easily tuck her against his side, and then he would run his fingers through that wild mane of hair. Jackie rarely smiled when they were together (or at all unless there was an audience) but he could easily imagine kissing Ellie’s grin. 

Not that she would ever let him. She seemed to like him okay, but he would never be the guy in biker boots. She probably had posters pinned up in her bedroom of rockstars and ‘bad boy’ movie stars. Girls like her went for the Judd Nelson’s - not the Emilio Estevez’. 

“Boyfriend? Me? Yeah right, Cunningham. I’m the last girl at school any guy would willingly hang out with, except maybe as a bet.” 

“That’s crazy.” The words left his mouth before he realised it and he blushed, but didn’t want to take them back either. “I mean…yeah, you’re a little different, but you’re cute as hell. Your hair is incredible and that smile? Hell, it’s beautiful.” 

Her eyes widened and he noticed how warm and brown they were. She was blushing too and it somehow suited her. He felt a little twitch of - what, pride? - that he could make Ellie react like that. 

(this was the girl who flipped off (judgy) Mr O'Donnell when he tried making her read her essay out loud, tied her own bra to the flagpole during morning assembly, who got cool tattoos from scary bikers, and stood on lunchroom tables to declare loudly liberal feminism was the only way to go and Reagan could suck it.) 

“You’re crazy. I’m the freak, remember? I know people don’t like me, they don’t ever pick me, but it’s okay. I’m used to it.” 

She was so brutally honest that it nearly knocked the air from his lungs, but then honesty seemed to be what you got with Ellie Munson. She might keep some things close to her chest, but there was no bullshit, no lying, no flattery. It was so fucking refreshing. 

“I don’t think you’re a freak, Ellie, but even if you were…that wouldn’t be so bad, right? You make it look good.”

She tucked a little smile into her shoulder. “Thanks, Cunningham…you’re one of the nice ones.”

“It’s Chris, and you’re welcome.”

Another song came on the radio - some kind of old country song that reinforced this was definitely something her aunt listened to. It reminded him of the stuff his grandad used to put on.

“And you’re in a band, right? That’s awesome.”

“Don’t tell me you're a secret fan of Joan Jett,” she laughed, somewhat shakily. “Jess from the band keeps suggesting we buzz our hair.” 

“Debbie Harry actually. Had a poster up on my wall before my mom ripped it down and called me a pervert.” 

“That is perverted behaviour,” Ellie joked. “Glad she did. Rock music is a gateway to drugs and sex and all kinds of debauchery. Look what happened to me. Can’t have you succumbing to the dark side now.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty scary. I take back all my earlier words. You keep all that Sith crap away from me. I’m all Jedi.”

He saw her silently mouth the word ‘Jedi’. 

“...after Aragorn I kind of loved playing as Luke Skywalker in the backyard with a rolled up newspaper as my lightsaber,” he winced. “Please keep that tidbit extremely super secret, Munson, and yes, I was a kid.” 

He never spoke to Jackie like this, but with Ellie it was too effortlessly easy to slip into this playful persona. She was so honest that it kind of dragged it out of him too. 

“God, think I’m in love,” Ellie said after a few seconds and threw her head back against the couch cushion. She placed a hand above her heart dramatically. “My whole life has led to this pivotal moment.”

Tick. 

Chris couldn’t help but flinch again when he heard the ticking noise and this time Ellie stared at him, sitting up. 

“Okay…so I’m definitely breaking rule three again…what’s going on with you, Chris? Why do you need drugs this bad? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Honestly?” Ellie nodded. “I think I’m going crazy. Been having these nightmares and seeing stuff for weeks now and I’m losing it. It started as just weird noises and ticking and nightmares, then I saw spiders crawling over Mr Kelley’s face in his office. I freaked out, Ellie. I ran away because I thought I’d be safer with people around, you know? But then that happened…and I still keep seeing them. Doesn’t matter if I’m alone or in the middle of class or sitting right here with you. I keep hearing the ticking noise - it’s like it's chasing me.” 

Chris sat forwards and ran his hands through his hair, willing himself to get a grip. 

“And the nightmares?” Ellie asked quietly. “What happens in those?” 

“It’s usually my parents. Mom and dad. Mom will be strung out on Valium in bed with her mouth stitched up, or laying in a puddle of her own sick by the sink. Sometimes it’s my little sister lying there instead. It happens every time and I can’t do anything to help her. My dad…he fucking stalks me like a ghoul. He used to treat me bad, Ellie, punishing me with food when he thought I was looking too thin or too fat. He used to smack me about until I got taller than him, so then he started picking on me…which goddamn hurt more. My dad - the ghoul in the nightmares - is always telling me I’m useless, I’m an embarrassment, saying I’m letting everyone down. It’s like…all the stuff I’m already feeling, you know? But having it thrown in my face every night…it’s exhausting.” 

His words came out in a rush. Ellie had drawn closer and placed a small tentative hand on his knee. Instead of feeling embarrassed by the action - or pitied - it made him feel safe and seen. 

“How can you possibly let anyone down? You’re, like, the most perfect guy ever,” she murmured. “Can’t you talk to anyone about this? You know, Jackie or a friend?” 

“They aren’t interested in crazy, Ellie. If something doesn’t fit right in their perfect little world then they don’t wanna know. Trust me. Jackie doesn’t do…feelings...unless they’re her own. I can’t talk to her about any of this real stuff. And my friends? They’d just tell me to man up, buy some weed, and get over it before the next big game.” 

Ellie looked like she wanted to say some very choice words but was trying hard to put a leash on it. 

“What about a teacher or your coach? Mr Kelley? I know I’m the last person to willingly talk to authority figures and as a rule they all suck, but this sounds serious, it’s really hurting you. And your parents…they…well sorry, but they sound like total assholes. Especially your dad.”

Chris found himself laughing at that. His dad was one of those untouchable pricks who used money and bullying to gain respect and unfortunately it worked every time. No one ever challenged him or called him an asshole like that. “He is an asshole.” God, even saying it was awesome, even if a little scary. 

“You could…” Ellie was biting her lip again. “I don’t know…leave? You’re eighteen, right? Do you have any family you could stay with?”

“If I left I’d be saying goodbye to scholarships, college, there’s no way I’d graduate. My father would do his best to wreck my whole life if I don’t fall in line,” he responded bitterly. “And besides…I can’t leave my sister alone with them. As long as he’s using me as his punching bag, he can’t turn his attention to her. Can you imagine the kind of crap they’d say to her?”

Chris sighed. He placed his hand on top of Ellie’s on his knee and the coolness of her fingers (and rings) helped pull him back down to the world. 

“I’m sorry to just lay this on you, Ellie. Seriously. You’ve been amazing helping me out tonight, and I’m just messing everything up like usual. You don’t need to hear about all this crazy shit and my nightmares. You’re a good listener, you know that?”

“It’s been said,” she smiled weakly. 

“Do you think I'm losing it?”

Anyone else might’ve said, yeah you sound crazy Chris, but Ellie simply shrugged. She squeezed his hand. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re going through it right now and bottling it up, but you aren’t insane. You’ve got a right to feel your feelings. And I…I don’t mind listening. If it helps. You’ve made my night a little less lonely.” 

Chris looked over at her and felt like he could drown in the warmth and kindness in her eyes. It wasn’t something he ever expected to find there, but he found himself drinking it in. Ellie too seemed to be searching for something in his expression, her eyes flickering over his eyes, his nose, his mouth. 

It would be all too easy to tug her hand and close the distance. To nestle his face in the crook of her neck and inhale the strawberry shampoo she used. 

**

But Ellie suddenly stood up and she clapped her hands. “Okay, you know what? No Ket. That’s now removed from the table. I’m going to roll us a joint using the good stuff I save for myself  - and we’re going to get high and talk about it all, okay? Really lay it on me, Chriss, no bullshit or pretending. Then I’ll make some grilled cheese sandwiches and we’ll feast and come up with a plan of defence, right?” 

Chris looked surprised but as she spoke a grin settled back across his lips. He really did have one killer smile. 

“You’re on, weird girl.” 

Before she went back to her room for the weed, she found herself hesitating for a moment. She tapped her fingers against the doorway. “Sorry for calling you a meathead earlier and being a dick about the game. You said about it meaning more to you than just scoring goals - and how you enjoy the feeling of working together to achieve something. Way you describe it, it kind of reminded me of Hellfire a little bit and why I like it so much. Guess we both like being part of something…” 

See? Genuine nice comment. Chris seemed to think so because he flushed bright pink. Obviously her sneaky brain had to ruin it by adding, “...we’re big damn losers, am I right?”

She hurried back to her bedroom and stashed the ket securely beneath her bed. Instead she scooped out a tin from the desk drawer where she kept the high quality stuff she bought directly from Reefer Rita. There’d be enough here for maybe three joints and she was betting Chris would only need one to feel buzzed (even though he was big, it was obviously still his first time - she’d have to walk him through it so he didn’t hack his lungs out). 

She glanced at her mirror on the way out and adjusted her shirt. She thought about dragging a brush through her hair but weirdly Chris actually seemed to like it wild? 

She had to pinch her arm. The Chris Cunningham was in her lounge and they were going to get high together. Chris Cunningham (who it turns out is a secret nerd and thinks she’s cute) actually/incredibly/unbelievably seemed to like her enough to confess about his messed up family and nightmares. 

(Nobody had ever called her beautiful before. Not even her dad or mom or aunt). 

She should probably go and buy a lottery ticket, all things considered. 

She steadied herself before she went back through. She felt like a Mage on a quest to solve the riddle of the Cunningham Curse. Sure, she didn’t know how to solve spooky haunting nightmares and banish abusive parents (she assumed kidnapping was out of the question) but she could listen and offer what little support she could muster. 

And Chris was dealing with this every single day because of bullshit toxic masculinity and societal pressure which forced the poor guy to feel he had to shoulder it alone. 

Well that could get fucked. 

“Here we go…As promised, first class pot…Chris?”

Chris was standing very still in the middle of the lounge and as she stepped closer she could see his face had turned a ghostly white. She peered up and saw that his eyes were twitching. 

“Hey Chris?” Ellie gently tugged on the green sleeve of his letterman jacket. “Come on, you’re scaring me.”

But he wasn’t listening. God, was he having a seizure? A stroke? She needed to call an ambulance. The lights in the trailer began to flash and she felt the uneasy uncurling of terror in her stomach. 

“Chris, please wake up! I don’t like this, please! Say something!” 

When he began to rise up in the air, Ellie screamed and fell back on the floor. “Fucking hell!” 

This was no seizure or fucking stroke. Something really bad was happening. 

Chris began floating higher and higher. His whole face was blank - completely void of anything. Then he shot up and his whole body slammed against the trailer ceiling.

“CHRIS!” 

Ellie scrambled back and as she did so, she knocked the radio off the side and the volume rose. Some stupid country song began blaring out at full volume. 

Ellie was crying, screaming, gasping for breath. This was like something out of a horror film, only much much worse. She couldn’t just switch this off or hide under a blanket. 

She nearly threw up when Chris’ left arm suddenly snapped like it was no more than a twig. 

“No!” she sobbed. “Chris! Stop this please. I’m scared, please! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!” 

(remember that well-honed ability to pick her fights? To choose to fight or fly?)

She clambered to her feet somehow and stepped up onto the coffee table, reaching up as high as she could to grab at him. She managed to wrap her hands around the lining of his jacket and she pulled with all her might, but he didn’t shift an inch. It was like playing tug-of-war against a mountain. 

“Chris!” she screamed. “Please! Stop this!”

And then - miraculously - the lights stopped flashing. 

And Chris awoke with a shuddering gasp, and fell right on top of her. 

Ellie’s legs buckled beneath her as they tumbled down onto the table with a loud crash. She landed right under him, catching the full brunt of his weight, and tried to ignore the searing pain that came from her ankle as she heaved herself up into a sitting position. 

She groaned as she managed to roll Chris over onto his back. His head was cradled in her lap. 

She pressed her fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse, but her hands were shaking too badly to feel anything. 

“Chris,” she whispered. “Please say something. Please don’t be dead. Can you hear me?” 

She was crying in earnest now and the tears disappeared into his hair. What the fuck was going to happen if he was…Oh my god. 

Chris then suddenly sat up with a cry of terror of his own, making her scream all over again. 

He looked fucking insane, rabid, horrified. His chest was heaving like he’d completed a mile long sprint and every line of his body was tense. His big blue eyes were wide and terrified as he looked around them, surveying the broken table and the radio which was still blaring out music. He seemed to need a moment to remember where he was. Then his eyes came to rest on her and he let out the biggest shuddering breath. He took in the tears racing down her cheeks, the flinch of pain when her ankle throbbed, the mix of raw fear and sweet relief that was written across her features like a goddamn neon sign. 

He was so close that she could feel his entire body shaking. 

And then he was holding her in a hug that was so tight she felt she might explode, but still she twisted her arms up around his shoulders and hung on just as tightly. She could feel him trembling as he cried and tried to convey (in stutteringly split phrases) what the hell just happened, but she couldn’t hear above the ringing in her ears. 

Eventually his grip loosened and she gasped for air. 

This couldn’t be brushed aside as a dream, a nightmare - he was clutching his broken arm to his chest. 

“Chris…you’re really alright?” she mumbled. She was still hanging onto his jacket in case he tried floating away again. “Help me up, need to ring an ambulance…or police…it’s not safe. Hold your arm steady, it’ll need looking at...I think my fucking ankle’s broken.” 

She could hear the faint noise of banging coming from nearby (was it the door?) but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Chris. 

Chris put a trembling hand to her cheek and wiped away some of the fresh tears with his thumb. 

“Ellie…” he croaked. His voice sounded rough like he’d been screaming too. “Ellie…this is going to sound mad…but something just tried to kill me, and I think you saved me.” 

**

A/N: Psss it's definitely The Party at the door, ready to spice it all up.

Quick notes:

Yeah Ellie is soft for Chris and he feels safe with her.

Had to tone back some of Ellie's habits because it wouldn't be realistic or safe for her to do some of the things guy-Eddie gets up to (though really it's not safe for him either).

I changed it so the cheerleaders are the worst. That's not a commentary on 'girls being bitchy' honestly, it's just the guy jocks wouldn't physically act on their resentment with a girl but the cheerleaders can and would.

Chrissy has shown she's a nice person and would feel protective of Eddie in danger - same thing for Chris only as a beefcake guy he's able to express this more literally (as in Ellie going to the Hideout).

Yeah the prototype for Ellie's fictional boyfriend is basically Eddie and vice versa.

Did I want them to kiss? Fuck yes, but maybe if I ever do a part 2. Didn't seem to flow here and really Chris wouldn't make that move. He'd be worried about taking advantage and is keenly aware how it looks that he's alone with Ellie in the trailer. It's about the implication, guys.

Girl Eddie would be scrawny and small, I think. Chrissy is super fit and strong because of her cheerleading so it makes sense Chris would be the same.

Do I like the Breakfast Club? Yeah, a bit, but that ending was crap.

I will not do a 'She's all That' with Ellie. Fuck no.

If I do a part 2 then forgive me for the shit switching of names. Honestly - what would Nancy even be?

#chrissy x eddie #edssy #hellcheer #eddissy #eddie munson #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer headcanons #hellcheer fanfic #ymaohoh #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddissy fanfiction

[meefy]

I had this on Discord but as it is always Love Lata hour on my blog, I felt it deserved a place here too.

Lately during my AnS reread I've realized how Lata is so much softer than he comes across sometimes and it starts pretty much as soon as he is introduced at the castle's night banquet.

When Shirayuki starts to ask why he left Lyrias, Lata tells her rather bluntly that the only thing he'll ever care about there is his research alone. He's been there 15 years and has no friends, colleagues, or ties of any kind (and he tells Kirito some forty chapters later that he has friends only in his hometown). He has no reason to stay in Lyrias except for the work he does - work that brings him fulfillment and joy in spite of nobody around him understanding why he is bothering with his kind of research at all.

Suzu tells Shirayuki in Chapter 65 that none of Lata’s fellow mineralogists understand the purpose or goal of his research, and I suspect that in part is why he is so isolated (besides the fact that some of the other scholars hate nobility). The other minerologists see Lata as a haughty rich noble with enough time and money to expend in a useless jewelry-making hobby, or just pointless research for the sake of knowing. One can imagine that, having come to Lyrias excited to show off his work, Lata was pretty sorely disappointed and put off by everyone around him early on even without being scorned for being nobility. I believe that is probably part of why he runs from Shirayuki and Obi in he beginning; he has no reason to believe that, after 15 years, anyone will take him or his research seriously (and this is something he also echoes when he admits he wasn't expecting her to label him an expert).

And I suspect there are two underlying reasons why Lata agrees in the end to help Shirayuki’s team (other than to reward her persistence, which is the explanation he gives her). One, because they are likely the first group of scholars to see value in his work and how it can be used in an applied setting - the fact it is in a completely different domain doesn't matter, really, and given how the few times he smiles in this arc are when he sees the fruits of his labour it is safe to assume that, mineralogy or pharmacology, it brings Lata a great deal of satisfaction to see his research going to greater use.

The second reason is a more sentimental one, and that is that, plainly put, Lata likes what he does. He wouldn't have stayed isolated for 15 years in a city where nobody liked him if he didn't, and even Obi later remarks that Lata becomes very solemn whenever crystals are brought up. He strikes me as someone who is happy to do "meaningless" research simply to learn how stuff works. And Shirayuki, at the castle's night banquet, echoes this feeling when Lata asks her why she wants the phostyrias project to succeed: because they're pretty! She gives many other reasons - her values, her career - but it's this reason that strikes Lata the most.

Look at how he regards her right after she makes her declaration, like he's thinking that finally, someone gets it. She wants to keep going with her research not just for its deeper hidden meaning, but because they're really pretty flowers.

And Lata just wants to have fun with his pretty glitter crystal stones.

It doesn't have to be more complicated than that!

#akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #swwtrh #meefymeta #lata forzeno #rata forzeno #swwtrh spoilers

[symphonic-scream]

🦞

Ooh Lobster!

Surprise you get a P4 au since I haven't gotten an ask for that. Apologies, if you were hoping for Yusuke

Anyways. I'm going to talk about my first P4 arcana swap, known as the Lovers Naoto au

The end of this will have a list of the Arcana incase things aren't clear

Kanji Tatsumi has been living with his older brother since his dad died and mom entered assisted living, but when his brother has to go overseas for a year for his job, Kanji is sent to live in their old hometown with an old family friend

Daidara isn't bothered having Kanji around, as long as he doesn't act out. He doesn't mind what he does, though when the kid shows interest in crafting, although with fabric, he's happy to spend the odd night teaching him about the value his labour and love places in his products

He's only a first year, and ends up sitting beside this bored girl with pigtails. When he compliments her nails and asks if she did them herself, well, they click. She's used to just being hit on, and he's happy to have a friend who, gets him. They walk home together, though they pause when they see police tape

Two boys are walking home the same way, one tries to ask Rise out again, and fails. The other apologizes, introduces himself as Yu Narukami, and the other as Yosuke Hanamura. Yu's uncle shooes them all away, and Yosuke mutters about having to go play manager for the night

A few days go by, and a third year dies. Apparently, Saki Konishi worked with Yosuke. Yu gets worried. Kanji's hand goes through a TV, and Rise and Yu watch him try to punch a TV in Junes

They all fall through.

They wander around, find a haunting room, and when they make their way back to the start, a Bear. Teddie let's them leave, and they don't exactly plan to go back

Only, Rise insists they do. They find a glass version of her in there, who talks about how she despises how they look and talk about her. That she wants to run away and be nobody

Kanji defeats a monster, and Rise gets her Persona too. He hugs her tightly, his chair and her crossbow tossed aside for a moment

Yosuke goes missing.

On TV the night before, Kanji sees him. He's dressed like a king almost, talks about how for once, everyone's going to see him and do what he wants!

So they go back into the TV. Yu runs off ahead, and when they catch up with him, his shadow is there, spouting that deep down, Yosuke disgusts him. How he hates the way he talks about their classmates, and how he keeps him around to look Better

Yu admits, after, that it's partially true. But he doesn't fully hate him, cause he's been in love with his best friend for a few years. Kanji and Rise pat his shoulders

They do save Yosuke, who laments not being saved by a beautiful girl. Yu volunteers to carry him home. Neither talk about how Yu interrupted the shadow of his best friend to shout about how he cared how Yosuke felt, he'd willingly give up his nights to help if needed

Things are normal for a little while.

Kanji makes some friends. Naoki Konishi, who skips school sometimes. Yumi Ozawa, who barges into the Home Ec club to demand they help the Drama club with costumes. Yu's cousin Nanako, who loves the dolls he makes. Ai Ebihara, who's lost and doesn't know who she really is. Kou Ichijo, a second year who doesn't understand why reading is so hard. Daisuke Nagase, who wants to be a good leader.

He works at the hospital where his dad died. An old lady talks to him about her life, and a nurse is, weird.

Yu and Yosuke mention a classmate of theirs that they're worried for. Yukiko Amagi was on the news for getting into a fight with some news crew trying to get footage of the "haunted" Amagi Inn.

Yukiko appears on TV. She's, in a white dress. Calls herself the ghost of the Inn, daring any "suitors" to end her grief and arrive for their Wedding

Before she disappeared, they saw her talk to a girl none of them knew. They didn't hear the conversation, but Yukiko yelled at them and they ran

They save her. She tags along for the investigation

Then, Rise shows up to homeroom one morning and freaks out. Her favourite idol group, ROYAL, is taking a break. And her favourite member, Prince, the sole boy, is coming to Inaba

She drags the boys and Yukiko to the bookstore in the shopping district to try to see if they can meet him, and they barely get a moment to chat with a quiet, well mannered Naoto Shirogane. He looks tired, worn down.

The girl that spoke to Yukiko is outside talking to the cops. Chie Satonaka, a young action movie star, who used to live in Inaba. Here to study how the cops handle the case for her next role

Naoto goes missing, appears on TV. He's dressed in the outfits his female counterparts wear on stage, and it's jarring to look at. He invites the viewers to stick around to learn the truth behind their so-called "Prince"

So the gang goes to save him, but they need more clues. His fellow idols appear on day 2, and offer little bits about him. One stays behind, and softly admits that Naoto's been struggling with his appearance and identity for a while. The idol, Knight, begs them to find him

And they do. Shadow Naoto outs him as trans, and once defeated, Naoto shakily tells them about how his break is because a camera was found in the girl's change rooms. His agency holds his transition hostage in his contract. He fears returning to the stage as is

More plot shit happens. You know the drill. Then, Chie tries to talk to them, and Yukiko kinda, blows her off. Tells her this is real to them, not some, role

Chie does an interview. Goes missing. Her shadow is dressed like a kung fu hero, calls herself a fraud

It's revealed the reason she came home was because she met her idol, who called her some nasty names. Said she was making a mockery of martial arts. She remembered being a kid and promising to be Yukiko's knight, and how as kids they wanted to get married one day

The timing was all wrong, and she softly confesses that she knows her idol was right. She's, nothing, really. But, she wants to help them find the killer. So she can actually do something

Anyways. Here's the arcana for it

Fool Adachi

Magician Rise

Priestess Yosuke

Empress Margaret

Emperor Yukiko

Hierophant Daidara

Lovers Naoto

Chariot Yu

Justice Nanako

Hermit Fox

Fortune Chie

Strength Yumi

Hanged Ai

Death Hisano

Temperance Dojima

Devil Sayoko

Tower Kou

Star Teddie

Moon Naoki

Sun Daisuke

World Kanji

#p4 arcana swap #arcana swap #lovers naoto au

[thessalian]

Thess vs A CrapSack World

So basically the world is really, really fucked up right now. I can bullet-point a lot of it, or at least I can try.

GENOCIDE BAD, OKAY?

And across the pond from me... Not seeing nearly enough about the fact that "old white dude quietly trying to get shit done as leader of his country but also maintaining the status quo on genocide" is still better than "old orange-ish dude who will destroy your fucking country and exacerbate the genocide if you let him get in again"

Apparently standing up and shouting "GENOCIDE BAD" is enough to panic people in this country so hard that folks are spinning fantasies about some Israeli Deep State controlling all of us (yes, actual government officials are saying this shit, and not even really getting condemned for it - look up Lee Anderson sometime) and start hinting at new anti-protest legislation (as if we didn't have enough of that) because "mob rule is replacing democratic rule". Says the man who nobody voted for.

Everything is way too expensive. And is only getting more and more expensive as time goes on - especially here, since we're having the worst effects of Brexit hitting us in stages and we're just about at the worst of it now.

The wealthy are blaming us for not wanting to work too hard for too little money, and for not buying enough to keep industries running, and generally fucking over everybody to keep their profit margins going ever-upwards. I can almost see the upcoming destruction of the bubble, but apparently we're going to go into "dynamic pricing" first, to make us pay more even for essentials depending on some AI's idea of when they can fleece us the most. Basically I'm tired of being a money-stuffed pinata to be beaten on by our corporate overlords until cash comes out.

On a personal note, I just had to register for postal voting and have no the fuck idea who I should be voting for because for fuck's sake, they're all as bad as each other at that point. I could probably focus on my constituency, but this is such a safe Labour seat that it barely even matters. Still, I'm not going to hike up a fucking hill to exercise my democratic rights, even if I don't know if there's anyone I can actually in all good conscience vote for.

Further personal note: just about every fucking part of the government seems to hate trans people. They all seem to be making the statement about "I know what a man is and I know what a woman is and there is no confusion about that", with the underlying suggestion of "man = penis, woman = vulva", which ... dear gods. We've got people asking, "Were the two kids who murdered a trans pupil really evil?" like, "Yeah, they fucking killed somebody, but ... well, it was only one of those..."

Final personal note: I am still so fucking tired of being disabled. I want to go out to the yarn store in my area, because ... y'know, good yarn, learning to crochet, yadda. Plus some other errands - I need gluten-free pasta, which they ran out of for my big monthly grocery order, and some other stuff. But I'm having to plan this entire trip in the most strategic way you can imagine because ... well, pain. I am so tired of having pain.

So there's all of ... y'know. This. And sometimes I don't know how I don't just despair myself into the ground. Because I can't do anything about most of this. Hell, I can't do anything about any of this. It just sits there, being shitty.

However. I had a really helpful therapist once, after I had my really major breakdown, and she said that the whole thing where I was grabbing at anything that might have the remotest chance of making me even briefly happy was a good instinct, and I just had to learn to do it more consciously. So. As small and shallow as some of these things are, here are my things right now:

I have the most awesome friends.

On the subject of friends, I have D&D nights.

I have pretty decent parentals, all told.

I have a new-old book (an old favourite I haven't read in a long time, and picked up for my Kindle recently)

I have a week off work, so I can recover a bit from the ow.

I have the first game I've pre-ordered since Dredge, which will be available in just over two weeks.

I have a trip to the yarn store ... and the yarn store has a shop cat.

That'll do for the time being. It may not seem like much, but it's a good bulwark between me and despair. I remember enough about my really major breakdown to know I really need those.

#Thess vs the world in general

[bluepecanpie]

I'm legit asking on here having actually gone through the process of how electoral politics works, including and especially canvassing, and candidate selection, how much disaffection and local resentment can play in deciding an sway an election, and how a very media-savvy charismatic candidate saying the right keypoints around a constituency, particularly one that's really deprived and one of many regions which experiend the brunt of deindustrialisation.

Like, I want people to really think about what happened during the rochdale by-election and why the result happened. This was a by-election where:

We had three candidates who were had either been Labour MPs at one point, or within the party machine only to fall into disfavor - including within the by-election itself.

Speaking of the Labour candidate, the reason why he fell into disfavour despite up until that point being a 'company man' is that he said in an event that the October 7 events happened with Israel's foreknowledge. Saying that like that on its own whether it's true or not (it isn't) is deeply embarassing for Labour which is committed to supporting Israel, and weaponised antisemitism to clear out/suppress its left-wing - especially if you can't switch out a new candidate in time.

The Green Party candidate was found to have posted Islamophobic remarks years before and also had to stop campaigning, and likewise, the Green Party couldn't change their candidate cos it was too late.

The local Labour branch quietly mouthed support for someone booted out of their tribe: Simon Dancuzk, a nasty dude selected for the Reform Party, a metamorphosed UKIP - who basically was only out because he was sexxting an underage girl - all to keep out Galloway. Yes, Labour was banking on a sex pest that they booted out to keep out a political nemesis.

A well-known vehicle shop owner presumably with his own money, was able to get out his messaging better than the establishment candidates, and was rewarded in the by-election with second-place.

Yes, Galloway is a vain, chauvinistic blowhard but he understands what the miasma of labourism in dissaffected areas does, and that's basically why the Worker's Party basically exists - Galloway also happens to legitimately hate Britain's foreign policy in the Middle East, something that will bring the support of the Muslim base. They're not going to care about that time he pretended to be a cat on big brother twenty years ago, if right now he's saying what Labour and the Tories won't say - that what's happening in Gaza is a genocide conducted by Israel with the material support of the British government. Labour is pissed as the main opposition not because they actually think Galloway's an antisemite, but because he represents the very real possibility that they could leak blocs of so-called 'natural voters' to independent candidates just when they thought they had a tight election program, and Galloway's gonna be slamming them from the left, which the Tories may capitalise on. They'll blame Galloway but they honestly it is no-one but themselves that they should blame.

So that's the rub. It's amazing that after ten years of shit like this going back to the Scottish referendum, nobody seems to have lerned anything, and on here what comes out is this moralistic chastising. It's not about whether what happened is 'good', it's about understand the conditions for why it happened, and why things like it will happen again.

#uk politics #rochdale #george galloway #worker's party #labour party #reform party #green party

[elftwink]

controversial opinion i suppose but i do not understand the backlash to those like, very boring-looking beige or greyscale children's toys that are meant to fit into an "aesthetic" because the criticism always is just like "woooaaw this person's child has toys in BORING COLOURS!!!! what a terrible fate for that child to see colours i have associated with boringness" because like.... at the end of the day it's a toy and it works fine and there's no reason to assume it's terrible and nonfunctional and the child hates it, because ultimately kids usually aren't as hung up on the colour symbolism of their belongings as adults are. which we know from the way in which we gender colour. and i really don't understand how the same people who will fight tooth and nail arguing that pink and blue are just colours will be like screaming crying throwing up trying to tell me a beige room is basically psychological torture for a kid. like. it's a room. it's a room that you think is a boring colour. the kid does not care anymore than they cared about being dressed in the "correct" gendered colour-- if they do, it's because you told them they should!

if the kid is even capable of caring! if they're an infant like just got born cannot speak barely moves spends all day eating and sleeping and, CRITICALLY, does not care about colours- exactly how is it bad for the adult who is decorating the room to want it to match their carefully designed house. of course you have to account for a child's wants and needs in your life, but like. a child does not come out with a favourite colour or type of toy. IF the child got older and requested a new paint job and the parents said no on the grounds of ruining the aesthetic, THEN we can have a conversation about damage to children and depriving them of autonomy and individuality but shockingly nobody on earth consults an infant when they are painting their room. and it just seems weird to read in all this stuff about the family dynamics and how the child feels when you don't know any of that and all you know is that their room is beige.

& to me taking issue with a child not having colourful belongings rather than like, asking how much autonomy the child is given over their own life given the way in which their parents are clearly so devoted to image makes the critique so shallow and makes this kind of parental control associated with beige aesthetics rather than... how much control the parent actually exercises over their children. a thing that is not at all exclusive to beige colour-coded parenting! parents are often, knowingly or unknowingly, more devoted to keeping up appearances than caring for their children properly. we live in a society that is obsessed with appearances. how exactly is it shocking or off the wall that this would eventually result in beige bedroom instagram moms, and MORE IMPORTANTLY, explain to me how that is meaningfully different from your average suburban house devoted to keeping up appearances. explain to me how "colours i associate with boringness and plainness" is causally linked to "unhappy child"

like i just feel we're focusing on the wrong thing here. this is a beige herring. we need to make family vlogging a child labour violation

#good idea generator #sorry for this long post but every time i see a post or vid or whatever about it i am always like. WHAT is the issue here #why are we assuming the beigeness is the cause #clearly none of you think you can be born liking beige considering how strongly you react to a child being exposed to it #so don't you think there might be some social pressures and expectations at work here #ones that probably directly impact a child much more than the colour of their room. food for thought #this is not meant to be a vague i did see a post abt this on the dash but i also see one like once a week #and the jokes are funny sometimes. so i do not begrudge anyone making fun of a beige room #i just finally collected my thoughts on it and why i don't get it

[yourimagines]

Liar part four

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers : swearing, angst

- Summary: last part, you find out where he’s been.

Y/N POV

I was finally home with my son. Nick dropped us off and Kayla helped me to get in. “Are you okay, can I help you with something?” “No I’m fine, thank you Kayla.” I gave her a hug and said goodbye. I walked NJ to his room and placed him in his crib. “Honey?” I heard Nate calling me from a different room. I walked out NJ room and walked to the noises in the kitchen. Nate was leaning against the counter. “Why didn’t you call me, to pick you up?” “I know Nick always responds.” He snorts. “Are you still angry about that, I already apologised more then 100 times, what do I have to do more for you to forgive me?” “Nothing, I just don’t trust you anymore.” He threw his arms in the air. “What do you mean with that?” “Just how I just said it, I don’t trust you anymore.” I walked to the fridge, ignoring him while he’s standing close by. “You don’t trust me?” “No Nathan, where the hell were you?” “At the gym.” I closed the door from the fridge. “For two days? While your pregnant girl is alone with two kids?” He throws his head back with a loud sign. “Why do you act like being pregnant is a sickness.” I looked at him, feeling my anger rise up. “Pardon me?” “Oh don’t act like you don’t know Y/N.” “So you just disappeared for two days, say sorry and think everything is fine?!” “Yes I apologised!” He slammed his fist on the counter “That’s not how it works Nathan!” We were both yelling and angry at each other. “You are lying to me, I don’t believe a word what you are saying.” “You don’t believe me” I shook my head. “No, nobody’s leaves for two days, not telling anyone, ignore text and phone calls, nobody lets a pregnant woman alone knowing she could go in labour every moment, nobody does that Nathan!” “Well screw me then, for being that person!” “Bullshit!” Tears were forming in my eyes, feeling stressed, helpless. “You are lying Nate, I know it, I’m not stupid, where were you…….” He shook his head. “Nathan what did you do…..” his eyes got glossy. My heart sank. “Nate….” Tears were falling down on my cheeks. “I’m sorry..” he cracked out, tears falling down on his cheeks. “No… Nate you didn’t..” he didn’t say anything, just standing there, tears falling down. I felt getting angry again. “How could you!” I started to hit his chest. He doesn’t do anything. “I thought you loved me!” An other hit. “Fuck you Nathan!” Again. “I almost died….. and you are screwing around.” My knees buckled and I almost fell. Nate was holding me up. “No….No it’s not fair…. I gave you my everything…” tears where spilling. Nate pulled me closed to his chest as we both sank down to the ground. “I fucking hate you…” I cried against his chest. “I know…” “I don’t want this anymore with you..” I pulled back and moved away from him. “Baby… please.” “No! You did this to us! Don’t fucking dare to cry now.” I crawled back into my feet and I walked away from him, packing my stuff and some things for NJ. “What are you doing?” “Leaving.” “Baby don’t leave we can work this out…” “no.. I’m not staying with you, I can’t even look at you right now.” I carefully grabbed NJ. “Babe…” “don’t babe me.” I whispered, not wanting NJ to cry. I walked with NJ and two bags to my car. “Just stay for the night, and you can leave tomorrow, hell I even leave the house if you want.” I placed NJ into the car and placed the bags in the back. I turned around and looked at him. “All I ever wanted was a family Nate and you destroyed that, not me I carried our child, I was there for you ever time and you pay me back with this shit.” I got in the car and drove off.

——— two weeks later———

I’ve got a apartment for my own, brought it with some help from my brother. The first few days I didn’t text, called or respond back to Nate. The last few days are simple. A text, a photo of NJ and him calling me to see NJ. I’m not a cruel person. Me and Nate are not on the same page anymore but he is the father of NJ. I got a text message from him this morning, I replied a bit later than I normally would.

Nate💔👊🏻: can I come over to day?

Me: sure

I was giving NJ his bottle when he knocked on my door. I stood up and opened the door. “Hey.” “Hey.” He walked in and looked around. “Nice looking place you have.” “Thanks.” I walked past him to the living room. “I’m just giving him his bottle, do you want to do it?” I asked him. “Yeah sure.” I handed him NJ. “There you go, here is his bottle too.” I gave him his bottle and he feeds him. Looking at him with a smile on his face. “He’s cute, little hands, big eyes.” I hummend in a acknowledging way. “If you need help with some stuff, please call me, I wanna help.” He looked at me. “I will.” I quietly said. He smiles and looks down at his son. “He’s a hungry little fella.” “Just like his dad.” he laughs. “Your mother is always right, knows everything. Don’t forget about that.” I snorted. “I’m not always right, most of the time I am but not always.” He looks up with a smile on his face. “I think he’s a good combination of you and me, little NJ.” I nod, I stand up and walked to the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?” “Yes if that’s not a problem?” “No it’s okay.” I grabbed us a drink and joined him again in the living room. “Here you go.” I placed down our drinks on the table. “Thanks.” He flashed me a smile.

“I’ll text you and I’ll get NJ some new stuff, just text me what you need.” “I’ll will, drive safe.” He smiled at me. “I’ll will.” We said goodbye and he left. I walked over to the sofa and sat down. ‘This boy drives me crazy.’ I smiled to myself. ‘But I’m not gonna give in that easily, he might be my baby’s father but he still needs to earn that trust back.’ NJ was sleeping in his crib as I lay down on the sofa. Thinking about the future, maybe a whole different one I ever imagined. ‘Who knows how life will go from here.’

#x reader #imagines #imagine #ufc x reader #nate diaz imagine #nate diaz x reader #x y/n #reader x character #y/n x character #x you

[bae-owyn]

putting this on tumblr as I don’t have twitter or a blog or a newsletter and I don’t have the mental spoons to write it in a way I could actually feature pitch it but

all of us are aware that the world is falling apart right, specifically capitalism, and that the pandemic was the nail in the coffin for burnout and that our collective mental health and abilitity to produce and (under)sell our labour are hanging on by a thread at best

and some of us will have seen articles which try and explain and support this position (and endless more which call everyone lazy, but this isn’t about those, nobody has ever wanted to work, wise up and fix your broken record)

BUT, but, no matter how many tips, workarounds, cheat codes, and sympathy this first type of article delivers, the bottom line remains that there is fundamentally no way of escaping or improving our situation under our current system

to TRULY recover and pull ourselves out of our individual and collective holes, and to get back on track and find something new and reinvent our lives in a way that pleases us, we need paid time off work to rest and explore - and that includes enough money to pay rent, bills, food etc AND have fun and travel; nobody can recover by being plunged into poverty and misery which would inevitably just make everything ten times worse 

we also then need to be able to retrain for free (when we are ready and not a moment before!!) and not have potential new jobs or career paths cut off right from the start because we can’t afford the £60k in postgrad uni fees, or can’t afford to take a pay cut right down to entry level in another industry (and there’s another argument here that minimum wage should be a wage that is thriveable, not just survivable)

I know none of this will ever happen as we don’t live in a modern socialist utopia and never will, but I am truly sick of being gaslit into thinking that ‘a better work life balance’ in a career I hate and that has complelety destroyed my mental health is the be all and end all solution, because whilst work in its current form is still present in that equation there is no balance or hope of restoration

#personal rant #i am two years into clinical burnout and it's getting worse not better #solidarity to anyone else anywhere on this hell journey #anti capitalism #burnout