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thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 months

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a/n: i know the game and fight were like two weeks ago but i couldn’t stop thinking about it lol. just a fun little thing - enjoy! (and literally as i go to post this, bb gets added back to the skills comp as he should’ve been in the first place so go defend your fastest skater title, mat😘)

word count: 4.5k

tw: oral (m recieving), cursing, chicago blackhawks slander, dirty talk

summary: after mat’s fight during the blackhawks game, you’re both worked up with extra energy to get out of your systems

“Fuck you!” You jump to your feet, screaming, adrenaline rushing through your veins. “Go fuck yourself!” Your stomach turns watching Mat fight, but you also can’t ignore the throb between your legs.

Unconcerned with the fact that you’re solidly in enemy territory, your shouting gets louder and louder. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch Mat scrap with Chicago’s number 43. Mat shifts and drops Blackwell to the ice, the refs and the other players skating over quickly.

“That’s right,” you crow, the people around you starting to boo. “Get fucking wrecked!”

Mat skates off, helmet gone, hair flattened to his head and jersey half off. He scowls and tugs the jersey back over his head and you pump your fists in the air. “That’s my man!” You jump up and down, flipping off a few Chicago fans that are shouting at you.

“Girl,” Alexa, Noah’s girlfriend, tugs at the hem of your vintage Islanders sweatshirt, laughing, “you’re going to get us killed. Sit down!”

You drop back down into your seat and shoot her a grin, “what a way to go out though!” You laugh and take a sip of your beer, turning in your seat when a Chicago fan a few seats down leans over to shout at you.

“Real classy behavior, lady,” he sneers and you flip him off with a bright smile.

“God, where to even start with the classy as hell Chicago Blackhawks organization?” You tap at your lower lip thoughtfully. “Patrick Kane? Jonathan Towes? Corey Perry? So many options to choose from.”

“Gonna bring up shit that doesn’t mean anything?” The man snaps.

You lean halfway out of your seat, getting a little louder, “your team sucks ass from top to bottom.”

“Suck my dick, bitch.”

Alexa coughs into her drink and you shrug at the man, shouting, “at least I’m supporting a team that hasn’t been sued twice for covering up sexual assault.”

“Oh my god,” Alexa mutters, covering her face.

“Fuck off, bitch,” a second man, sitting next to the first, shouts at you.

With a little three fingered wave at the men, you turn back to the ice, settling into your seat. “Oh, I love when men can only think to call me a bitch in the face of actual facts,” you sigh, heartbeat still pounding from Mat’s fight and the confrontation.

A few Chicago fans in the general vicinity are looking at you, booing and flipping you off. You return the gestures happily, with a sarcastic smile on your face.

“You’re batshit insane,” Alexa says, looking impressed and a little awed. “I’m terrified of you.”

You knock her shoulder with yours and tease, “as long as you love me more than you’re terrified of me.”

“Jury’s still out,” she snorts.

The game ends in tragic fashion during overtime, but you’re still so proud of Mat, buzzing with energy to see him when he gets back to the hotel. You and Alexa had booked a room in the same hotel the boys were staying at, spontaneously deciding to take the trip to see the boys play since neither of you had been to Chicago. The team flies back to Long Island tomorrow afternoon and your flight leaves just a few hours later, so you’ve got a few hours with Mat tonight before you have to go back to your own rooms, knowing he’ll have left packing to the last possible second.

Alexa’s lounging on her bed, scrolling through her phone, when there’s a knock on the door. You jump up from your spot on your bed and rush to the door, yanking it open and nearly knocking Noah out of the way in your hurry to jump into Mat’s arms. He laughs and catches you easily, wrapping his arms around your lower back as your legs hook around his waist.

“First career fight?” You grin at him, peppering his face with kisses. “So fucking hot, baby.”

“Y’know,” Noah comments dryly from behind you, “I had assists on two of our goals.”

You turn your head and grin at him, “you want a kiss too?” Mat’s hands grope at your ass, pulling you tighter over the growing bulge in his jeans. You wriggle happily over him, enjoying the low groan that vibrates against your shoulder.

“Not from you,” Noah laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of Alexa’s head. She snuggles up against his side and laughs a little.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says, “before these two forget they’re not alone.” Shooting you a wink, she grabs Noah’s hand and drags him out of the room, the door falling shut behind them.

“Thank god,” Mat huffs, leaning his forehead against your collarbone. You kiss the top of his head, rubbing your fingertips into his scalp. “I’ve been waiting to see you all night.”

“Well you’ve got me for the next few hours, completely uninterrupted,” you reply, holding onto him like a koala. “Let me see your face, I need to make sure no damage was done.”

Mat pulls away from you, grinning that crooked grin you love so much. He looks a little tired, but the only damage from the fight is a cut on the bridge of his nose and a little cut on his forehead. Not nearly as bad as you were thinking. “Do I pass inspection?” He teases, bouncing you a little in his arms.

You hum, “you’ll do,” before kissing the tip of his nose and then slanting your lips over his. Mat deepens the kiss, licking over your lower lip so your mouth will fall open. You groan into his mouth, grinding your hips down over his erection. The kiss is a little frantic, all teeth and tongue, and you’re out of breath when you break apart. “Put me down, I wanna reward you,” you pant, unhooking your legs from around his waist and letting them fall to the floor.

“What?” Mat’s mouth is back on yours, arms still wrapped tightly around your back, your chest pressed to his. You wiggle against him, grinding your hips over his, more than happy to feel him harden under you.

“Wanna - mmmph-“ your words are muffled by Mat’s mouth, captured by his lips and tongue. You pull back with a huge effort, palms flat on his shoulders for leverage. “Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, Mat’s hands trailing up the back of your shirt, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip and tugging at it.

“Yeah?” Mat asks, eyelids heavy over his eyes. He shifts and wedges his leg in between yours, pressing his muscled thigh right up against your throbbing cunt. You whine and your hips move over his leg, the seam of your jeans pressed exactly where you need it. “Wanna suck my dick, baby? What if I wanna watch you get off on my thigh?”

“C’mon, Mat,” your voice comes out breathy, “been wanting to suck you off since you fought. I’ve been soaked thinking about it.” You grind over his thigh as you plead, knowing you’ve won the upper hand when Mat’s fingers dip below the waistband of your jeans to squeeze your ass.

He sucks a mark into the skin behind your ear and you sigh. “Me fighting got you all hot and bothered?” He asks the question against your skin, brushing his nose against your earlobe and you nod.

“Beyond fucking hot, Mat,” you scratch your nails against the nape of his neck. “Glad I got to see it.”

You wiggle again and a little whine forms in the back of your throat. Mat’s mouth curls into a smile against your neck. “Love it when you beg,” he says, a little hoarse. “My girl is begging to suck my cock, what’s fucking better than that?”

“Actually letting me suck your cock,” you gasp, Mat’s fingers digging harder into the flesh of your ass. “Let me, Mat, c’mon.”

He finally shifts his leg, planting his feet solidly, and you grin, breaking from his grip and falling to your knees in front of him. You’re eye level with the bulge behind the fly of his jeans and you grin up at him wickedly. You run your fingertips lightly over his zipper and feel his cock throbbing through the denim. “Can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” you smirk, fingers working at the button and zipper, pushing at the denim until you can trace your index finger over the imprint of his dick through the fabric of his briefs.

“Fuck!” Mat’s hips buck forward and he grabs at your hair with one hand, tangling his fingers in the strands. His cock twitches behind the fabric and you push his jeans and briefs halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock so it bobs up towards his stomach. You lean up on your knees to press a kiss to the head of his cock and Mat groans, grip on your hair tightening. “Baby, babe, please, don’t tease me,” he babbles, hips thrusting minutely.

“It’s a reward,” you grin up at him, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and squeezing slightly, “for fighting. Going to take my time with you.”

Your hand strokes him slowly, palm rubbing against his tip, gathering pre-cum and smearing it down his shaft. His cock throbs in your hand, in time with the way your clit throbs as you touch him. You shift on your knees, pressing the heel of your foot in between your legs and Mat doesn’t miss the movement.

“Going to get off just by touching my dick?” He teases, widening his stance and leaning his upper back against the wall. You hum, focused on getting him fully hard. It doesn’t take much work and within seconds, he’s like hot steel in your hand.

“We’ll just have to see,” you murmur, leaning in and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. A strangled moan leaves Mat’s lips and his hips start to thrust, forcing you to press both of your hands against his hips to keep him in place. You hum around him and swirl your tongue over his slit, enjoying the way he’s babbling your name over your head. He groans, the noise choking off as you take him deeper into your mouth, keeping your lips wrapped tightly around him.

Your nails rake over his skin, fingers sliding over the ridge of bone and then the smooth skin of his lower stomach, until you’re able to rub your fingertips through the light trail of hair under his belly button. You wrap one hand around the base of his cock and take him deeper, swallowing and enjoying the way Mat’s cock bobs in your mouth.

“Baby, come on,” Mat mumbles, “gotta go deeper. Let me fuck your throat. Wanna feel you swallow me.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, tears hovering at your waterline from the stretch of your jaw, and blink innocently at him. Your throat relaxes and he grins, looking a little dazed, when he realizes you’re giving him permission. His other hand comes up to cradle your face, releasing your hair with the other hand so he can hold your face in place while he thrusts his hips forward, sliding his cock deeper down your throat with each movement. The head of his cock bumps against the roof of your mouth, the back of your throat, slides against your tongue with his erratic thrusts.

Saliva drips down your chin, tears rolling down your cheeks. Mascara streaks down your face, stinging your eyes a little.

Mat’s head is dropped back as he rolls his hips, his mouth running constantly. You’re not even sure what he’s saying at this point, too focused on keeping your throat relaxed and not gagging around his thick length. Your hands grip at his ass, nails digging into his skin and he hisses, practically whining when you swallow and your throat tightens around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck. Jesus Christ, fuck me,” he groans. “Love how you look with my dick in your mouth, look so pretty.”

You moan around him, lifting up a little on your knees and leaning in, deep throating him until your nose is pressed against his skin, your chin tucked up against his balls. His scent - a little bit soapy, a little bit sweaty - invades your senses and you feel your panties dampen further. You shake your head a little, brushing the tip of your nose against his skin and Mat’s fingers tighten on your face, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.

“Gonna come, baby, gotta -“ he mutters, choking off. He leans his hips back a little, trying to pull out of your mouth, but you hold onto his ass, pulling him closer to your face. Mat grunts, his balls tightening under your chin before he comes down your throat, hot and thick.

You swallow for what feels like forever, Mat’s cock still thick and hard in your mouth. He finally pulls back and you drop down to sit on your heels, wiping at your mouth. Saliva and cum make your chin and hands sticky, but you grin cheekily up at your boyfriend. He looks wrecked, jaw slack and eyes nearly closed.

“Didn’t manage to come just from sucking you off,” you rasp, throat sore and voice hoarse. You reach up to gently stroke over his cock and he leans his hips forward, pushing into your grip.

“Bet that sweet pussy of yours is soaked for me, huh?” Mat says, reaching out to wrap his hands around your biceps and haul you to your feel, your hand falling away from his cock. With his grip on your arms, Mat crushes you to his chest, kissing you sloppily. His cock presses against your stomach, half-hard, and you press against it, making Mat groan into your mouth before he sucks on your tongue.

You hum against his mouth, melting against Mat’s chest. Your clit throbs and you clench around nothing, desperate for a little friction. “Mat,” you gasp his name a little and he knows exactly what you want. His hands slide up your arms and wrap gently around your neck and the back of your head, keeping your face close to his so he can kiss you while walking you backwards to the bed.

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth. You can feel his body vibrating with adrenaline and once the backs of your knees hit the mattress, Mat pulls back to quickly get rid of his clothes, kicking the fabric in all different directions with a a hungry look in his eyes that makes you giggle. Mat grins down at you and leans over your body, pressing his bare chest against your clothed one. “Regular post-game energy has nothing on post-fight energy,” he promises, nipping at your pulse point.

You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and roll your hips, pressing your cunt against his cock. “I can’t wait to find out,” you murmur, arching your back when his hands slide up your shirt to grope at your tits.

Just about an hour later, you roll off of Mat’s chest, sweating and panting like you’ve just run a marathon. “Fuck,” you breathe, thighs sticky and trembling.

Mat turns his head and gives you a lazy smirk, “told you.”

You kick a little at his ankle, shifting and shaking your head at the way your core is clenching around nothing, the feeling of Mat’s cock stuffed inside of you still present. “You need to get into fights more often,” you mumble, watching him wince as he pulls the used condom off of his dick. He twists a knot into the latex and rolls off the other side of the bed to pad into the bathroom. You blatantly stare at his ass, wolf-whistling when he bends slightly to toss the condom.

“I’m feeling very objectified,” Mat teases you, standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. He tries to keep a straight face, but can’t help his lips from turning up at the corners. You drag your gaze over his body, from the top of his head, over his bare chest complete with chain resting against his collarbone, down to his dick hanging between his legs, and back up.

“Mmm,” you hum, still flat on your back, still shaking slightly. “It’s not my fault you’re so objectifiable. Maybe if you were uglier…”

You trail off into a shriek, body jostling when Mat pounces on the bed, covering your body with his and planting sloppy, wet kisses on every inch of your skin he can reach. “Nooo, stop! Oh my god, you know I’m ticklish,” you shriek-giggle, pushing at Mat’s shoulders, trying to wiggle out from under him. He keeps you caged in with his arms and legs, laughing.

“Gonna keep objectifying me, Squeaks?” He asks, marking you up with hickies across your neck and chest.

“Yessss,” you laugh, pressing your chest into his face. “It’s my favorite hobby.” You hook your leg around his hip and dig your heel into the muscle of his ass, getting him to thrust his pelvis forward, bumping against your clit. A spark of pleasure lights up your nerves.

“Cool,” he laughs, flicking his tongue over your nipple. “You can keep doing it after we get some food, I’m starving.” He bites at the underside of your breast and rolls off of you again, leaving you cold in the middle of the bed.

“What?” You sit up, watching him reach for his pants and dig his phone out of the pocket.

“We had like one slice of shitty Chicago pizza after the game,” Mat explains. “And then we rolled around in bed for an hour. I’m starving, babe.”

You’re about to complain, but as soon as you open your mouth, your stomach growls and Mat smirks at you. You huff, “okay, yeah. Let’s order some dinner.”

He turns back to his phone, tapping away at UberEats, and you flop back against the pillows, grabbing for your own phone where it rests on the bedside table. Once you’re settled, you rest your feet in Mat’s lap, his left hand landing on your ankle and thumb tracing an arc over your instep. You wiggle your toes and he pinches lightly at your skin. “What do you want?”

“Mozzarella sticks,” you say absently, gaze flickering onto your lock screen. It’s covered in notifications - the girls’ group chat, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok. What the hell is going on?

Another message comes in from Sydney, making your phone vibrate in your hand. Since you don’t have a password on your phone, you can see her message on the screen: she’s going to be banned from the arena 😂

Who’s going to be banned from the arena?

You tap open the group chat and scroll back to the top where the messages started half an hour ago. Holly sent a Twitter link followed by: our girl! 😂

A sinking feeling forms in your stomach, but you tap on the link, unsurprised when it opens up to a video. A video of you, just a few hours earlier, yelling at the game.

“Oh man,” you groan, watching yourself - filmed from an unflattering angle, of course - jumping and cheering for Mat, before turning and snapping at the Blackhawks fan.

“No mozzarella sticks?” Mat asks, mistaking what you had said as directed at him. He’s still scrolling through UberEats.

“No, um, yes,” you shake your head, looking up. “I do still want mozzarella sticks, but…”

You tap on the hashtag and start scrolling through Tweets, even as texts from the girls continue to roll in. The video is everywhere - Spittin’ Chiclets, B/R Open Ice, Barstool Sports. Fuck, even Frankie’s retweeted it, adding his typical all-caps word vomit captions: GOTTA GO THROUGH THE ISLAND OUR FANS ARE GREATER THAN ANYONE ELSE ANS READY TO GIVE YOU A VERBAL BITCH SLAP LOVE YOU LADY B

You roll your eyes at his caption, pulling the notification screen down and checking to see if he texted you too. He did - a string of cry-laughing emojis and clapping emojis.

“But what?” Mat finally drops his phone to the mattress and leans back on an elbow to look at you. “What are you looking at?”

You squint at him. “Have you not gotten any texts or notifications?” You ask, surprised that the guys’ group chat isn’t blowing up.

“Probably,” Mat shrugs, “my phone’s been on do not disturb since before my nap this afternoon. I wasn’t really thinking about looking. Why?”

You flip your phone around, showing him the screen. Mat squints at it, watching the video play for a few seconds before he lets out a chuckle of disbelief. “Is that you, Squeaks?”

“Yep,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I, um, got a little heated when you fought. Is Lou going to kill me?”

Mat’s got your phone in his hand now, scrolling through the Tweets and laughing. “No way, you don’t work for him. I don’t think he knows what Twitter is anyway.” He keeps scrolling. “Oh shit!”

“What?” You lunge forward and snatch at your phone. Mat pulls it back and clicks his tongue at you.

“Jeez, you gonna yell at me now too?” He jokes before reading the caption of a Tweet. “Listen to this ‘trashy Long Island fan berates Blackhawks fan.’ Babe, you freaked on the wrong fanbase.”

“I’m trashy?” You yelp indignantly. “Me? They’re the fans that are supporting an organization FULL of sexual abusers! Give me my phone, I want to defend myself.”

“No way!” Mat holds your phone in the air away from you. “Why expose yourself to more shit?”

“Because I’m not the one in the wrong here,” you grumble. “What are the guys saying? Does anyone know who I am? I mean, I wasn’t quiet about cheering for you.”

With your phone still in his hand, Mat picks up his own and taps over to the messages. “Oh, damn. Almost fifty texts from the guys.” He chuckles as he scrolls through them, reading you off the best ones. “Bo says to suit up for next game, we could use your passion. Dobber says two minutes in the box for unsportsmanlike conduct. Ah, nice, Frankie says pizzas are on him next time we’re at Borrelli’s.”

“Pizzas are always on Frankie,” you grumble, draping yourself over Mat’s back to read his phone screen over his shoulder. The guys are mostly sending more videos from different angles and chirping you. While Mat’s distracted by the group chat, you snatch your phone back, returning to Twitter where the fans have figured out your connection to Mat - it’s not like your relationship is a secret, your Twitter is public and your Instagram switches back and forth between public and private when you’re starting to feel overwhelmed - but you don’t love that you’re getting this kind of attention.

You really should’ve controlled yourself better. But you didn’t and now you’re scrolling through hundreds of Tweets that are calling you Long Island trash. There are others mixed in that are supporting you, cheering you on for being a loyal fan and girlfriend, but jeez. The Chicago fans really are kind of nasty.

“Stop looking at that,” Mat plucks the phone from your hands when he sees your forehead crease and wrinkle over your nose. “Are we gonna have to delete your account like Dobber?”

“No,” you huff, chest flushing with emotion. “I just…I should’ve been a little more controlled, but I got so worked up!”

Mat cups your cheek and grins at you, “I like when you’re worked up. It’ll blow over in a few days, but for now, it’s really fucking cool that my girlfriend is so passionate about me fighting.”

You wrinkle your nose up at him and he laughs again, “seriously, don’t worry about it.” He frowns a little. “Fans’ll be talking about our game again by tomorrow. We’re fucking it all up.”

Pressing your cheek against Mat’s shoulder blade, you wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Mat. I know you guys are working so hard, things will turn around soon, I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his skin, blowing a little raspberry. “Want your trashy Long Island girlfriend to give you another blowjob?”

That draws a laugh from Mat, exactly what you wanted to do, and he reaches back to rub his fingers over your scalp, massaging gently. He waves his phone in the air, “think you can do it before dinner gets here?”

A challenge.

You grin against his back, hands sliding down his stomach to wrap around the base of his cock. He jolts in your grip, stomach muscles bunching. “Place the order and we’ll see,” you mumble against his back, kissing and biting at his shoulder. His arm moves and you can see over his shoulder that he’s pressing the order button.

“Time starts now,” Mat teases, leaning back against you and giving you more access for your hands to stroke him.

You just barely manage to bring Mat to his finish before his phone chimes with the delivery notification, but it’s intensely satisfying to watch him yank on the hotel robe and slippers with his face and chest all flushed before he runs down to the lobby. You take the time that he’s gone to clean yourself up, showering quickly before getting into your lounge pants. By the time you eat and hang out for a bit, Mat’s going to have to go back to his own room, so you’re trying to curb the temptation to go another round.

Your phone is still going crazy with notifications and when you open Instagram, you notice that Mat’s shared a story. Immediately suspicious, you tap on his little circle, groaning when you see the video of you shouting. He must’ve shared it while he was in the elevator, the fucking menace.

Underneath the reshared video, Mat added his own comment: my favorite trashy long islander 👊🏻💪🏻😂

You swipe up and tap out a reply: i hate you

“Love you too, Oscar,” Mat’s voice echoes through the room. You look up and there he is, carrying the bag of takeout.

“Oscar?”

“Like the Grouch? You know, because he lives in a trash can,” Mat’s grin is shit-eating, “and you’re trashy.”

You fling a pillow at him and he ducks, cracking up. “I’m sorry!” He chokes out, not sorry at all. “But it’s hilarious. Video gets funnier the more you watch and some of those people on Twitter really are quick with the comments.”

“I’m never coming to another game again, Mathew,” you inform him, faux-snootily. He hands you over the foil tin of mozzarella sticks.

“Yeah you are,” he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’d never forgive yourself if you missed me fight again.” He wiggles his eyebrows and takes a bite out of one of your mozzarella sticks.

He’s right and he knows it.

“I’m going to have to private my insta again,” you comment on a sigh, looking down at the notifications piling up.

“You’re gonna be old news in a day or two,” Mat replies. “Something else will happen at a different game and hockey twitter will move on.”

By the time you land in New York the next afternoon, Mat’s right. You’re old news because the team’s fired Lane and hired Patrick Roy as their new coach.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

270 notes · View notes

napakmahal · 24 days

Note

HIII, PHONOLOGY HERE !!! in all truth i dont blame u, i was really tired from uni when i wrote that, lmao.

okey so, like misunderstabding in the way he hasnt told hiro and aunt cass and reader thibks its bc tadashi thinks they wont last or is ashamed of her when in reality is just that he is very nervous and never finds the perfect ocassion

Normal Girl pt. 1

Hey pookie! This took forever but I realized midway through I needed to split it into three parts. Thanks for the request this was fun to make.

You wish you could lay here forever. It was raining and your puffy sheets were cold which would have bothered you if not for the warm body you were resting on top of. Tadashi had been under a great amount of stress. He wanted his doctor title and was the youngest candidate going for it. In order to do that he needed a dissertation of roughly 100-450 pages to defend in front of an academic jury. The paper was done, thank goodness. But he still needed to defend it and even then they could deny him his phD. If he’d spent his week trying to prepare for his defense he’d drive himself insane. So instead, he spent all his time with you. Watching movies, sleeping in, staying up, doing mundane tasks and trying to relax as much as possible before his defense. You’ve never had to refill your anti-stress tea collection and melatonin gummies in one week before.

But the defense was tomorrow and he desperately needed to calm himself. So he went through his presentation twice and then zipped it away in a separate backpack. You pressed your ear to his chest and listened to his breathing and muffled heartbeat. The patterning of the rain on the window going through one ear and the opening and closing of your boyfriend's valves pumping blood through his body in the other.

“I never want to get up.” You admitted.

Tadashi responded sleepily, “I know.” With his eyes shut. Gosh his eyelashes were so long.

“What time is your hearing tomorrow?” You brought your hand up to his face and started caressing it. All the prep work he was doing to defend his thesis had resulted in a lack of care for personal upkeep. He’d started growing stubble (which you found very attractive) but eventually had you help him shave it off to look presentable for his defense. (Something you were clearly upset about)

“10 a.m, I have to be there like two hours early though.”

You just hummed in response and continued to lay in his bare chest in silence. You’d gotten to the point where you could just be together like that without it being inherently sexual. On your nightstand, your phone buzzes and vibrates through the wood. When you checked, it was your mom. She sent you a photo of a four leaf clover she found in her garden with the text: Look what I found!

You knew she was wishing Tadashi good luck. Once while visiting her he’d let it slip that he wanted to be Dr. Hamada , and your mom actually squealed. She’d known him as long as you two had been together and she’d rather make sure he was fed before you were. She was proud of him.

“Look what my mom sent.” You smiled, pointing the phone towards your boyfriend's face.

Tadashi opened his eyes and instantly smiled. He took the phone from your hands and sent your mom a voice recording thanking her for all her support (and free Printer ink).

“She loves you so much,” you smiled and kissed his lips. “She really is my mother.”

Tadashi cupped her hands around your head and smiled at you. “Yes she is, pretty girl.”

You stayed that way while Tadashi whispered sweet nothings into your ears as the sky started to get darker and he had to leave. Aunt Cass was insistent that he spend that last night before his defense hearing back at home so she could make him sweet potato for good luck. He leaned over your bed and slipped his shirt back over his head and pulled his pants over his boxers.

You got up out of bed and slipped an oversized shirt over yourself and walked him out the door.

“Good luck, baby, I love you, my smart boy.” You buried your face in his neck with a hug.

Tadashi dug his face into your head and kissed the tops of it. “Thank you, darling . I love you too.”

“I’ll come pick you up tomorrow and take you out, wherever you want.” You promised.

Tadashi shrugged into the hug. “They may not approve my defense, you know?”

“If they don’t they’re morons but that still doesn’t matter. Because you worked so hard and deserve so much, right?”

Tadashi’s unrelenting and slightly irritating humbleness drove you truly mad sometimes. He had the work ethic of a mule and a brain like Berkeley. Everyone knew it but if you pointed it out he’d just say “oh, thank you but I’m not all that”. Not even in a pick me way. And you were determined to get his confidence up.

He just nodded, dropping his head into your shoulder while you combed your fingers through his dark hair.

“Right?” You repeat.

“Right.” He confirmed.

You gave him one last forehead kiss and sent him off the drive home. After he left you went to your kitchen and started cleaning what little appliances you had after not leaving your room with your boyfriend for nearly a week. Once the kitchen was clean you needed to shower and change your clothes. Showering with another person is not exactly the epitome of cleanliness, not that you’ve only been showering with Tadashi for the past week….. When you headed back to your room dripping wet you kicked something laying on the floor.

It’s Tadashi’s backpack. With his defense inside.

———————————————————————

Tadashi is very clean. He doesn’t like messy anything, his room remains clean and his schedule is so organized to the point it was more of a battle plan than a timeline. So this was not only out of character but IMPOSSIBLE.

Hiro was watching in horror as Tadashi wrecked the entire car and dumped every item of clothing in his overnight bag out onto the floor.

“What is happening?” Hiro asked, completely baffled.

Tadashi diddnt respond and continued to mutter under his breath “where the fuck is it?”

It wasn’t until Aunt Cass walked out back to the absolute wreck with a small bowl of sweet potatoes and matcha on a tray that he looked up from the wreckage.

“Auntie, have you seen my defense?!” Tadashi's voice dripped with desperation.

Before Aunt Cass could even answer Hiro practically screamed, “YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING DEFENSE?!”

“Hiro! Language!” Aunt Cass slapped him in the back of the head. “But seriously, Tadashi! What happened to it?”

Tadashi squeezed onto his hair so tightly it looked like he might rip a chunk of it out. “I don’t know! I had it ,I know I did!”

Silence between the three until Hiro perked up. “Wait, you have a copy of it on my computer. Just reprint it. I think the print room at the lab closes at 10, if you rush you can make it.”

Tadashi didn’t need to be told twice. He ran upstairs, sent the document of his defense to the schools Printer email, and texted Wasabi to ask him to stand at the printer so the techs didn’t shut down the printers for the night. And he was off, speeding over the speed limit (by two miles per hour) and headed to the school.

Unknowing to him you were making your way to his house to drop off his defense. You could have just called him to come get it but he didn’t need any additional stress including driving.

You’d only been to Tadashi’s house once and it was when there was nobody home. You just needed to use the bathroom and his house was closest. But you knew about his little brother and his aunt and about how he lost his parents when he was young. How could you forget? The way he talked about them made you cry harder than him.

When you pulled up to the front of the cafè the lights were mostly off except those coming from the kitchen. You swung the backpack over your shoulder and headed towards the door. A small bell above the door jingled and prompted a woman to walk out with a tray of dirty coffee cups on them.

“Oh, I’m sorry we’re closed.” She apologized.

You waved your hand and held up the backpack. “Oh no, I’m not here to order anything. I just have Tadashi’s defense.”

Hiro poked his head out the curtain after hearing the word “defense” to see you standing at the entrance with his brothers backpack.

“Oh! Okay, Hiro tell Tadashi that he can turn around.” She told him.

You handed your boyfriends aunt the backpack when she asked, “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

“Y/n,” You smiled.

But the smile completely faded when Tadashi’s aunt turned around to look at his brother with a “have you ever met her before” look. Hiro shook his head before calling his brother telling him to turn around.

You added with uncertainty, “I’m…Tadashi’s girlfriend.”

Hiro pulled the phone away from his ear and perked up. “Tadashi has a girlfriend?”

The entire cafè went silent. They didn’t know? You’d never met them before but they didn’t even recognize your name? Who the hell did they think Tadashi was spending his entire week with? Who did they think he FaceTimed in his room at midnight pretty much every day? Either Tadashi’s family had the memory of a goldfish or….your boyfriend lied. Not just about you but your existence as a whole. The girl he said he loved.

You just nodded and let that sink in. You could see the collective “oh shit” look in your boyfriends family’s faces as they tried to salvage it by saying things like “you know your name does sound familiar” but it didn’t matter. Nothing anyone who wasn’t your boyfriend explaining himself was going to change how you felt.

Around that time an engine pulled up the front of the cafè and switched off. Tadashi had turned around and came back home. When he opened the door it was like the aroma of awkward bitch slapped his psyche across the face.

“Hey, hunny.” He whispered and brushed his thumb against your skin. “Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver. I love you.”

You didn’t respond. Only wished everyone a good night and left. Hiro looked at his brother with a look the read “what the fuck?” And Aunt Cass looked at her nephew with a look of “what did you do?”

Fun fact about Tadashi: he can take a hint and read social cues. So he ran outside in the cold and chased octet you right as you were about to get into your car.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He grabbed your wrist.

You looked at him with daggers in your eyes. “They don’t know who I am?”

Tadashi looked like he was going to puke. And you were having none of it.

“My mother invited you to her graduation, and you went to my cousins wedding. And your family does know who I am!” Now you were yelling. Tadashi’s neighbors were getting dinner and a show.

When he didn’t respond you forced yourself to ask the question that had been lingering in your head. “ Are you…are you like—ashamed of me?”

“No! Never!” Tadashi shouted back at you.

“Then how come they don’t know who I am!” You shouted.

Tadashi rubbed his temples. “I have mentioned you before, back when we were still just talking. But it’s not something we do! It’s just not! Every once in a blue moon they’ll check up on my romantic life but that’s it. Hiro liked a boy for five months before I even knew his name! When my aunt goes on dates she doesn’t tell us their names. It’s just not us! That’s all!”

It made sense. You know it did. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Tadashi grabbed onto your face and pressed kisses all over it. “I love you, I swear I do. Nothing you do will ever make me ashamed of you. You mean the world to me, please believe me.”

You grabbed his hand and gently removed it from your face as you started kissing his hand and his wrist. Your kisses trailed up his arm and onto his face until you gave him one last forehead kiss.

“Good luck, tomorrow.” And you hopped back in your car and drove off. Leaving tadashi standing there in the streetlight surrounded by urban darkness. And with every tire rotation away from him, Tadashi’s heart broke a little more until it eventually snapped when he could no longer see your car.

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #tadashi hamada #disney #fanfic #hiro hamada #bh6 x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #napakmahal #writing #x reader

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saltygilmores · 8 months

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 21- Lorelai’s Graduation Day, Aka Lovesick Stepcousins In The Big City, Part 4

In my previous post, I stated this was the first time Rory and Jess had ever touched each other, but my friend @kimberly-stocks pointed out that was technically not true.

However, in the two previous instances, Rory shoved him out the door in There's The Rub, and then dragged him home by his sleeve in Dead Uncles and Vegetables, so I stand by this being the first display of real affectionate touch shared between our stepcousins. We know why Rory isn't in school, but the same can't be said for Jess. Look, it's something of a tossup between him flat out skipping school like Rory did (coincidentally, on the same day she decided to surprise him) or Liz just flat out didn't re-enroll him and so he's wandering the streets like a feral cat, poaching hot dogs and records and wandering stepcousins.

I was expecting an Okuh but I'll take a Whatever.

I really wanted to know if this shirt was based on a real band or musical tour. So I googled "Hardkore Kidd" and found this amazing bit of trivia.

Thank you Women in Revolt for that bit of interest. I googled it a bit further and indeed, Hardcore Kidd was the stage name of a wrestler. I thought it was the name of a band, and I'm sure 98% of you reading this thought the same... As far as him wearing something other than a band tshirt being "out of character" for Jess, we must agree to disagree. The "he actually watches wrestling sometimes" and "he only wore it ironically" are both plausible angles in my opinion. But he's also our thrift store king, and he probably just thought it looked rad. And it is. It's a rad shirt.

"From (someplace) to (Sudan?) to (someplace) to Baltimore"

Mmm, good tofu dogs. Rory is weirdly over the top delighted by the taste of this street wiener like she's never eaten a hot dog before in her gosh dang life. I will not sully this wholesome thing they've got going on here with tasteless wiener jokes. I will not make wiener jokes...I will not make wiener jokes.. Ladies and gentleman of the Jury, I will now present my findings as to whether or not Milo Ventimiglia Actually Ate A Wiener. In Exhibit A, It looks as if Mr. Ventimiglia actually partially consumed the wiener, as you can observe there is some definite mouth-to-wiener contact. In Exhibit B, Mr. Ventimiglia's wiener appears to have at least one nibble mark; while on the other hand , Ms. Bledel only pretended to be eating the wiener Mr. Ventimiglia had so generously procured for her, and there is no chunk missing from her wiener until several moments later.

Damn it, I'm weak.

Milo's wiener still only has one bite taken out of it, but he's been chewing for about a solid minute. If I didn't already know Rory was going to respond "do they allow hot dogs on the subway", I'd have scripted her to respond "But I already have a hot dog, I don't want a sandwich" when Jess said he was going to Subway. Come on, admit Rory would say something like that and that I'm hella funny. ADMIT IT. (Subway is the name of a chain of sandwich restaurants). He is adorably patient with her cluelessness, god bless him.

(The above is supposed to be a video; I apologize, since it's likely that by the time you read this, Tumblr will have borked it and made it unwatchable. If you can see it, be sure to click to watch it. You’ve been blessed).

There's my Okuh! A high pitched one, so you know he's happy. It was perfect. Sigh. Bless. If this episode were a human person, I'd marry it. I'm freaky like that.

#milo ventimiglia #jess mariano #rory gilmore #gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 2 #lorelais graduation day #okuh #hot dogs #wieners #literati #step cousins

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imaginedreamwrite · 10 months

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I know 3 picture probably was requested for BOC, but it reminds me of Ransom x plus size!Reader. The beginning of their relationship, when she was just hired. He would ask her to explain something to him, give her absolutely ridiculous task. She thinks he is just another shitty boss. But Ransom is just smitten, confused by the intence feelings he experiencing and maybe likes how cute she is when she is annoyed (also, that ass and tits 🤭)

The thwack of thick files on your desk was sharp. The potent verbal assault was just another layer of irritant stimulants that made you question whether a jury would convict you of murder if they knew you’d strangled Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

For a moment you debated it. Truly you thought about ripping the tie from around one of the squeamish interns necks and strangling Ransom with it. A harrowing yet delightful thought until you realized that still, even with him dead, you’d be responsible for filing paperwork.

“What’s this?” Instead of murder, you questioned the files with furrowed brows.

“Files. You did them wrong. Fix them.” Ransom leaned against your desk, long legs dressed in a Tom Ford or YSL tailored suit. “Now.”

You clicked your tongue against your teeth and counted to five in your head before you were composed enough to reach for the files and pull them closer to you. You looked over the classifications you’d etched onto the top folder and then dug your toes into the front of your heels.

“I did them right, they’re fine.” You pushed them back toward him, your head raised and eyes steely against his own heady gaze.

“Are you questioning your boss, Marshmallow?” Ransom’s hand fell to your desk top, his lips pulled into a smirk. “That isn’t very good girl behaviour is it? Questioning me…”

“Only his intelligence,” you muttered with a scoff, your eyes rolling so far into your head you thought they might fall out your ass, “the files are fine.”

“Redo them. Now.” Ransom’s fingers curled, his smirk widened as you were accosted by his new cologne. “Because I said so.”

“Because I said so.” You openly mocked him, mirroring the movement of his mouth with your left hand, knowing full well that both of you were pushing each others buttons.

“Do I need to pull you into my office and give you a spanking?” Cocky as ever and defiantly ignoring professionalism, Ransom Drysdale presented himself as an arrogant image of sex on legs.

“I’m not redoing the files, Ransom. They’re fine.” This time you spoke through gritted teeth, ignoring the tension crackling between you two.

“If they were fine, I wouldn’t be telling you to redo them.” ransom’s hand left the desk and rest upon your cheek, his fingers deftly grazing the softness of your skin. “You work for me, Marshmallow.”

“I could quit. There’s other arrogant assholes who wouldn’t cause me so much grief.” You threatened with a snideness and a sharp jab of your pen into his shoulder. “And-”

“-and I have a long list of things I’d like to do to you.” Ransom’s voice grew thick and hoarse, his eyes darkened and a flood of lust surge through his clutch.

“Ransom-” you also found it hard to breathe, your mind escaping you.

“-only after you finish the files, Marshmallow. Don’t disappoint your boss.”

“Ransom Drysdale!” You smacked his hand away and pushed the files back toward him, scoffing with derision. “You are such a tool!”

His laugh was a electrifying and boisterous, truly catching your ire until he leaned back against your desk and cupped your chin in his hand.

“I’m only teasing, Marshie.” He tapped your bottom lip and hummed deeply. “Get your things, I’m treating you to lunch.”

#ransom Drysdale x plus-sized!Reader #Ransom Drysdale x plus size!Reader #Ransom Drysdale x Marshmallow

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newhope8 · 4 months

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Stories I Haven't Read Yet💚

This list is 100% random ... some stories are stand-alone ones, others are from a more organized master list ... you'll see ...

Any stories with a green checkmark emoji ✅️ next to the title link means I've read it. It's just still going to live on this list for now ... copying & pasting so many story links back & forth between different sub-linked master lists (tho easy) can be time consuming.

Runaway Princess (Chan)

Visions of You in Solitude (Hyunjin)

Best Friend Slightly Pervy (Han)

Backstage Notoriety (Chan)

Liar (Han)

SKZ Love Language (Felix)

SKZ Love Language (Han)

SKZ Love Language (Hyunjin)

Undercover (Chan)

Part 1 Delulu (Minsung & Y/N reader)

Part 2 Delulu (Minsung & Y/N reader)

So Good for You (Minsung & Y/N reader)

Dry Humping (all 8 members of SKZ)

Dance Better (Lee Know)

Bend Over & Arch Your Back (all 8 members of SKZ)

Hot & Cold (Lee Know)

Emergency Contact (Chan)

Princess Treatment with SKZ (Chan version)

New Years Day (Lee Know)

When You Don't Use Their Card (all 8 members of SKZ)

Riding (Changbin)

All Warmed Up (Chan)

The Games We Play (Felix)

Empty My Mind (Han)

Invisible Threads, Parts 1 & 2 (Lee Know)

Like You Used To (Chan)

SKZ as Different Songs (all 8 members)

Roommate Part 1 (Chan)

Roommate Part 2 (Chan)

Mommy Kink (Han)

24 to 25, Merry Christmas (Chan)

Unplanned Events, Parts 1-8

Teasing (Lee Know)

Frat Party (Hyunjin & I.N)

Star Boy (Chan)

Holiday Cooking (Felix)

Reacting to Peeing during Sex (all 8 members of SKZ)

Christmas Lunch (Hyunjin)

8 Different Kinks (all 8 members of SKZ)

Forgetful (Lee Know)

Always Trouble (all 8 members of SKZ)

Begged & Borrowed (Lee Know)

Jury is Still Out (Hyunjin)

Trophy Husband (Changbin)

Let Me in Your Ocean (Chan)

Sweater Weather (Han)

Catfish (smutty texting with Han) ✅️

Step-Dad (Chan)

Ride for You (Han)

Connected (all 8 members of SKZ)

Lost in Translation (Lee Know)

Brown Eyes Don't Pry (Changbin) ✅

Brown Eyes Can Tell (Changbin ... part 2 of Brown Eyes Don't Pry ⬆️) ✅️

Game Over (Lee Know)

Manspreading (Hyunjin) ✅️

The Girl from the Club (all 8 members)

Pillow (Chan)

Cat & Mouse (office worker Lee Know) ✅️

Unfair (Valentines Day-themed, Hyunjin)

One Click (Instagram adventures, Han)

Unholy (y/n, Chan & Changbin) ✅

Country Club by @moonlightndaydreams (a y/n & Minho tale) - all 3 parts this author has clearly linked & labeled at the top of each installment

#fanfic smut #kpop fanfic #kpop masterlist #masterlist #18+ only #minors dni #minors do not interact #no minors please #stray kids smut #stray kids fan fic #stray kids fanfic #smut

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iphisesque · 1 year

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top 5 reasons to watch utena?

in no particular order:

the music: surprise bitch utena is a musical! aside from the intro, the ED, and zettai unmei mokushiroku, pretty much every episode has an original song, usually but not always during the duels (some of the most iconic being ammonite, missing link, and dona dona). the OST is also absolutely amazing, composed by j.a. seazer and featuring absolute bangers such as hikari sasu niwa and shi no aphrodite.

the character dynamics: i have said before that the characters of utena come in endlessly duplicated sets of three from the original akio matrix, with each character still maintaining their uniqueness: juri is a girlprince like utena, but she's closeted rather than oblivious; touga is an akio, but his youth and trauma prevent him from achieving his same position, and so on.

the symbolism: utena fans are perhaps right behind evangelion fans when it comes to annoyingly overanalyzing symbolism, and i love that for us — the colours and the car and the prince and the stars are pretty basic symbols, but others like the stopwatch and the animals and the hair and the cooking have broader interpretations, and it's fun to theorise about them.

the themes: much has been said about utena's commentary on gender and race and abuse and love and family and capitalism, and all that is present, but the most basic barebones message of utena is a coming-of-age one, about breaking free of societal demands for teens and young adults to find who you really want to be and what values you want to embody for yourself, which i found really inspiring on my first watch.

the cultural relevance: especially if you already like anime and shojo, you have been exposed to utena already, whether in direct reference or in inspiration: it's a cult classic of the magical girl and deconstructionist shojo genres, containing lots of references to previous genre cornerstones, and with its main creatives ikuhara and enokido as well as the rest of be-papas going on to work in more prestigious anime.

#rgu #revolutionary girl utena

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allthingseddie · 11 months

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Hayloft

Inspired by the song Hayloft by Mother Mother.

Note: I do not know a whole lot about the court system. This is written for entertainment so if I got something wrong forgive me lol!!

Warnings: Has mentions of violence and sexual assault.

The news had spread all over Indiana like wildfire. No one could believe the twisted so called love story that was being displayed all over the news, let alone the fact that it came out of a town as small as Hawkins. The media had been all over the case as soon as they caught wind of it. Not only did it involve the town freak (or criminal as others would call him) but it also involved the preacher and his daughter that had moved to town not even a year ago. The media never fully reported on the condition of the criminal, only that he had survived the attack of the preacher.

The preacher was telling everyone that he was merely protecting his daughter. He had walked into his home late at night to hear alarming noises coming from his daughters bedroom. He grabbed his gun and when he opened the door he saw the criminal assaulting his daughter. He did what he thought was best and aimed and fired. He was an intruder in his home. He gave him the warning to get out of his house, but he said that it was out of pure fatherly instinct that he had fired the gun at the criminal. It wouldn’t have been as interesting of a case if the preachers daughter didn’t spin a different tale from her own father.

Everyone was enthralled in the fact that the young girl of only 19 years old was testifying against her father in defense of the criminal. What could possibly make someone so young so stupid. The town was divided. Some say that her acts could only be out of pure love. There would be no other reason why she should go against her own father. Others were convinced that the criminal had turned her away from God. He himself was rumored of taking part in satanic rituals. The media would only report on certain parts of the trail after talking to each respective lawyer. The trial itself wasn’t even being televised, yet everyone thought that they knew the whole story. They all took sides and either rallied against the preacher or the criminal.

Today was a special day in the trial. Today would be the day that they would finish up their questioning and make their closing arguments. The jury would then be left to their verdict of who they saw was at fault. Everyone was on edge, especially those personally involved in the case. The criminal had family and friends rallied for him in the audience. The preacher had some of his supporters from his church sat on his side of the courtroom. There were glares being traded from each sides support team.

————————————————————————

“Mr. Adams, can you please tell the people of the jury what you saw when you walked into your daughters bedroom the night of June 10th?” His lawyer questioned.

“I saw that monster on top of my daughter sexually assaulting her,” He replied, pointing to Eddie Munson, who sat across the courtroom looking worse for wear. There were gasps and murmurs in the audience of the courtroom and people started staring at Eddie to see his reaction to the statement. He was clearly still weak from the attack from Mr. Adams and the surgery that followed. Getting shot in the chest can have that effect on a person.

“Was your daughter showing sings of discomfort when you found her with Mr. Munson?” His lawyer continued. Mr. Adams was quiet for a moment before he responded.

“She was making sounds as if she were in pain,” He responded, his eyes not leaving Eddie while he answered.

“What happened next Mr. Adams?”

“I warned him once, and when he didn’t listen, I protected my family.”

“That was when you fired the gun?”

“Yes, it was. I did it for the protection of my only child.”

“How did your daughter react to this?”

“She was crying. Probably from the trauma she had just experienced.”

“Objection your honor, speculation” Eddie’s lawyer piped up.

“Sustained.” The judge responded.

“No further questions your honor,” Mr. Adams lawyer responded. It was then time for everyone’s favorite part of the day. The part where Mr. Adams daughter would take the stand to tell her side of the story. She sat down in the stand after taking her oath to tell the truth and Eddie’s lawyer made his way over to talk to her.

“Good morning Ms. Adams. Can you please tell me the events that led up to your father shooting Mr. Munson.”

“I was at home by myself and I called Eddie and asked him if he wanted to come over. We have been seeing each other for a few months now.” She said looking over at her father ,” I took him into my bedroom and we had consensual sex. Then my dad got home, busted into my room and shot Eddie when he saw him. I started crying and I called 911. Now we’re here.”

“At any time, did your father say anything to Mr. Munson to indicate that he was going to use his firearm if he did not leave his home?”

“No he did not. He opened the door, Eddie and I jumped apart from the sudden intrusion and he shot Eddie in the chest.”

“Was there any indication that your father could have had to think that you might be under attack?”

“Only if he’s never heard a girl moan before, which doesn’t seem unreasonable”

“Let’s try to stay on topic, shall we folks,” The judge intervened.

“Ms. Adams, was there ever a time where you were in Mr. Munson’s presence where you felt threatened or worried for your safety?”

“Not a single time.”

“Did you ever get the impression from Mr. Munson that he would harm you in any way?”

“No.”

“Have there been any times where you felt threatened or in danger from your father?”

“Yes. When he found out I was friends with Eddie.”

“Has your father ever shown any malice towards Mr. Munson?”

“Yes he has.”

“Is your father a violent man?”

“Yes. He is.” Whispers could be heard in the courtroom. No one could believe that the new preacher in town could be violent. He did fire a gun and admit to it, but it was for good reason, right?

“No further questions” It was now Mr. Adams lawyers turn to interrogate his clients daughter.

“Ms. Adams, you say your father is a violent man. Why would you continue to live with someone dangerous after you’re a legal adult yourself? You could have easily moved out.”

“My father wouldn’t let me.”

“How could he stop you?”

“He won’t let me get a job. He says it’s a woman’s job to cook, clean and raise children. I can’t support myself if I don’t have a job, therefore I can’t afford to move out.”

“So you’re still currently living in the same house as a dangerous man?”

“I am actually in the process of moving my things to a friends house.”

“You said your father had shown previous distrust towards Mr. Munson. Why is that?”

“My father is a hypocrite. He preaches about loving thy neighbor yet he judges people harshly before getting to know them. That’s what he did with Eddie. He thought he was a delinquent just because of his looks and where he lives. He also believes rumors that are spread without fact checking them.”

“Surely he had a right when there is some truth in some of the rumors that are spread. Mr. Munson has been to juvenile detention and has gotten citations. I wouldn’t be too happy either if my only daughter was hanging out with a known criminal.”

“People make mistakes. Mistakes that can be forgiven if you put in the effort to prove that you are righting your wrongs. Shooting people in the chest isn’t a mistake.”

“Your father stated he wanted to protect you. That you were his only child. If he thought he was protecting his only child from someone he assumed was a criminal, couldn’t that be seen as forgivable?”

“Not to me.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh? He is your father. The man who raised you. Shouldn’t you feel some empathy towards him?”

“The only person I feel any empathy for in this situation is the only man I love. Which is not my father.”

“I do not have any further questions for Ms. Adams your honor. I would like to call Mr. Munson himself to the stand.” Ms. Adams joined Eddie’s uncle Wayne in the row of seats behind Eddie’s seat. Eddie himself then got up and made his way to the hot seat, using a cane to do so as he was still injured. The courtroom was completely silent as he moved and made his took the oath to speak the truth. He sat down and Mr. Adams’ lawyer wasted no time jumping down his throat.

“Mr. Munson, had you ever had the impression before that you were not welcome in Mr. Adams house?”

“From him, yes,” Eddie replied matter-o-factly.

“Why, then, would you return to it?”

“I was invited over by my girlfriend.”

“Did you have any reservations in coming to the house?”

“I did.”

“And yet you still came over when you knew you weren’t welcome by the houses rightful owner?”

“Again, I was invited over.”

“Mr. Munson, how long have you known Ms. Adams?”

“Around 8 months.”

“Did you know that Mr. Adams did not approve of you and his daughter associating with each other at any point during the time you’ve known her?”

“I did get that impression from him.”

“So you went against his wishes?”

“Seeing as Ms. Adams is an adult, I assumed that she could make her own decisions about who she keeps in her company.”

“Why not invite Ms. Adams to your house instead?”

“My uncle works 3rd shift and sleeps during the day. I didn’t want to disturb him.”

The snide lawyer had no more questions for Mr. Munson. It was then time for his own lawyer to ask him about the attack he had endured.

“Mr. Munson, did Ms. Adams at any time tell you that your sexual advances were not wanted or welcomed?”

“No she did not.”

“Who initiated the act?”

“Ms. Adams did.”

“When Mr. Adams entered the bedroom, what was his body language like?”

“He came into the room holding his gun and immediately pointed it at me. I would say his body language was intimidating and violent.”

“Have you ever felt threatened by Mr. Adams before the day of the attack?”

“Yes I did. He had told me to stay away from his daughter when he found out we were in a relationship.”

“Why did you continue the relationship if he had threatened you?”

“Because Ms. Adams and I are in love. I couldn’t imagine being away from her.”

“Was Mr. Adams aware of the feelings you and his daughter shared?”

“Yes, she told him. She tried to introduce us and he was not happy.”

“How do you know that he was not happy with the prospect of you and his daughter together?”

“He told me that I was a no good low life who didn’t deserve his daughter and that I would corrupt her.”

After questioning was over, both lawyers made their closing statements for their clients. Mr. Adams side talked about how Eddie was unwelcome in his house and he had made that clear yet still didn’t respect his wishes. They also talked about the fact that Mr. Adams was under the impression that his daughter was being attacked and he had to protect her. Mr Munson side talked about how the two were in a relationship and were both consenting adults. They talked about that fact the the couple had disclosed their relationship to Mr. Adams prior to June 10th when this all went down. They also discussed the extent of Mr. Munsons injuries and what he had to endure to even be in the courtroom when he did.

The jury exited the courtroom to deliberate what they had heard and come to a unanimous decision. While this happened, both clients were able to talk with their friends and family.

“Steve, I just want to thank you again for helping me get a lawyer to defend me. I couldn’t have done it without you,” Eddie exclaimed to his friend. He sat next to his girlfriend during the recess and held her hand.

“Hey man, don’t even worry about it. You’re innocent and my dads friend owed us a favor so I cashed in on it. I would do it again,” Steve replied.

“I really couldn’t have done this without any of you. I know they haven’t reached a verdict yet but I appreciate all of the words all of you guys spoke for me during your testimonies. I definitely have a better chance at winning this thing with you guys behind me,” Eddie replied to all of his friends and his uncle. He especially meant the sentiment towards his girlfriend who was testifying against her own father on his behalf. She rested her head on his shoulder in a quiet understanding.

It felt like forever before the jury had finally come back out and said they had reached a verdict. Everyone took their places back in the courtroom. There was tension in the air as one of the jurors stepped forward to make the announcement of their decision. Eddie held his breath as nerves washed over him. He knew that most people already thought he was a criminal just from the fact that he was his fathers son. They would have no trouble believing that he would be following in his fathers footsteps. He felt queasy at the thought as he patiently awaited for his fate from a stranger.

“The jury finds Mr. Adams guilty of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. The jury also finds Mr. Munson not guilty of sexual assault,” The juror announced. Relief washed over Eddie and he felt like he could breath comfortably for the first time in weeks. After all was said and done, Mr. Adams was sentenced to 10 years in prison and received a $5000 fine. Eddie walked out of the courtroom with his girlfriend on his arm and his lawyer helping him avoid the reporters standing outside waiting for any chance they could to get the latest piece of gossip from him. He made his way home and he and his friends and family celebrated the justice that was served to Mr. Adams. For once he didn’t feel viewed as a criminal.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson season 4 #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #Spotify

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woklaza · 6 months

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Courtroom - First Half

POV: Instead of going to the ADA, Dazai quits the PM and becomes a judge.

Inspired and based on a post on Instagram by @Kolyas_coat (check out their awesome cosplays)

“Next on the list, Nakahara Chuuya?”

Dazai eyed his list of names awaiting the ending of their trial. Nakahara Chuuya’s name was written clearly on the column.

Ginger dressed in prison clothes, his hat still on as he refused to take it off, was entering the courtroom with a police guard next to him. The moment the criminal saw the judge, his eyes went through the five stages of grief before freezing into a surprised expression. The emotion of the judge was mutual.

“You…” Chuuya gritted his teeth, “…so that’s where you’ve been going, bastard!”

The police guard smacked Chuuya,

“Don’t talk to the judge like that!” He snarled. Chuuya growled in response and turned to Dazai.

“You? A judge?”

Dazai covered his shock.

“It should have been obvious, Chuuya. And, you should be calling me ‘your honour’.”

“Shut your trap, you mackerel.” Said Chuuya, rolling his Rs.

“That would have earned you the crime of disrespecting me. Nakahara Chuuya, your crime would be…”

Dazai looked at the opposition lawyer. The lawyer fixed his glasses.

“Your honour, Nakahara Chuuya has committed the crime of the theft and misuse of ability. He robbed a bank by using his ability ‘For the Tainted Sorrow’.”

The lawyer handed juries a copy of a folder, and one was immediately passed to Dazai. Dazai flipped through the pages.

“And… how was he caught?”

Dazai finally said as he went through the paperwork.

The lawyer seemed to be caught off guard by the question.

“Ahem… he was caught by an organisation that agreed to work with the police force to capture him.”

“So in other words, you expected Chuuya to commit the crime. You expected him to be there? Did you…” Dazai stared into the lawyer, one of his common tactics to make people nervous, “…set him up?”

The lawyer took a few steps back.

“What do you mean, your honour?”

Chuuya gritted his teeth at the lawyer.

“What he means, you snail, is that you are accuse of some crime or shit.”

“Now, now, Chuuya. It’s not your place to speak right now. But I do want to know, any casualties? Did you kill anyone?” Dazai told Chuuya in a sassy way.

“Pft. I only injured a woman.”

“By..?”

“I may have used a few condensed spheres of gravity to her…”

“And did she die?” Prompted Dazai.

“No. She survived it without a scratch and went full combat mode on me…” replied Chuuya, clearly irritated with losing.

“Hm?” Dazai raised an eyebrow. He pulled out a piece of paper from a stack.

“Chuuya. The person you fought was Yosano Akiko. She was Mori’s ex-apprentice.” Dazai laughed as he read the profile of the woman.

“Damn. That sucks.” Chuuya poked his tongue out.

“Wait. Your honour, why are you talking to this criminal like this?” The lawyer was clearly confused about Dazai’s abnormal behaviour.

Dazai laughed, completely dropping his judge side.

“Like what? Boyfriends? Platonic boyfriends?” Dazai asked sarcastically. The juries shook their heads, some were still reading the folder, while some were eyeing Dazai with disapproval.

“You know what, never mind, your honour.” The lawyer bowed and resumed to his seat. The proposition lawyer stood up in sync.

“The Port Mafia really picked a top-notch lawyer for Chuuya.” Thought Dazai, recognising the lawyer. She was a successful attorney at the mere age of 19, and she now fights cases for big companies, brands etc. The Port Mafia really didn’t want to lose Chuuya if they hired such a promising lawyer.

Not only that, but the lawyer lady had such a cute face. Even during a courtroom hearing she would have a smile on her face that sends Dazai the urge to commit double suicide with her. She had a fit body too, acing all of Dazai’s beauty standards. The portions were all immaculate, her waist was small and her thighs—

Stop, Dazai. We have serious stuff to do. Flirting with a cute girl could wait for later. Besides, we already have a cutie patootie here. Dazai stared at Chuuya, his very own dog.

“Your honour, I would like to oppose the opposition. First of all, Nakahara Chuuya did not commit the crimes of theft and misuse of ability. We do not have solid evidence. The opposition should have used the word “accused” instead of “have”. Although, I do agree with the statement with the criminal being gifted.”

“And, proposition lawyer, do you have anything to justify the crimes of Nakahara Chuuya?” Dazai raised his tone of voice to impress the lawyer while Chuuya glared.

The lady lawyer seemed to be unaware of Dazai’s intentions,

“Yes. I have Nakahara Chuuya’s credit card number and history printed out.” The lawyer passed the sheet to Dazai and some other copies to the juries. “It says here: 19th of June at 2:58 pm, Nakahara Chuuya has bought a Beach Fun Barbie Doll, a pack of thirty multicoloured balloons, a DIY Gemstone Puppies necklace pack, and a Little Girl’s Makeup Kit in Yokohama Mall. It was at 3:02 when the bank was alerted of robbery, and the mall was half an hour away from the bank. It would be impossible for the suspect to rob the bank.” The pretty lawyer read out the history of Chuuya’s credit card history.

Dazai, on the other hand, was trying not to laugh about Chuuya’s girly haul. Elise must have stolen his credit card again. He then began to read Chuuya’s card number.

“Hey! Stop reading my card number, you stupid—”

“That’s ‘your honour’ for you, Nakahara Chuuya.” Dazai said in an “um ackshually…'' tone.

Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Stop treating me like a dog—”

“Half time! Everyone’s dismissed!” Dazai yelled sillily as he juggled his hammer around.

“You—”

“Dis-missed~!” Dazai hopped out of the courtroom. “The results for this case will be announced later!”

#fluff #bsd fluff #bsd fanfic #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd #bungou gay dogs #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #skk #bsd skk #dazai x chuuya

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borisbubbles · 1 month

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Eurovision 2023: #08 & #07

08. MOLDOVA Pasha Parfeni - "Soarele și luna" 18th place

youtube

Decade rank: 28/116 [above Trenuletul, below Gjon's Tears]

"With friend and foe, we march to the battle plain

Some to seek success, others to seek fame

We play with honour, for the love of this game

So that someday, someone, somewhere will remember our name." -- Benjamin "Coach" Wade

No surprises here, I would hope. Pasha may have aged 11 years since his last appearance but he is still the same weird, irreverent stoner king he has always been. Perhaps even moreso than before, now that he's openly become the Eurovision equivalent to Coach in both style and substance.😍

Pasha delivered not more, not less, but exactly what I thought and hoped he would.

First of all, the song is just really fucking good. It sounds (very complimentary) like something you would hear in a Vidbir final. Maybe a follow-up to Kadnay's Beat of the Universe, remember that one? (Melovin's BIGGEST crime is robbing us of Kadnay, Lelya AND the minotaur girl because zomg uwu quirky theatre kid) (lmao the way I totally would have been okay with Dreamer and put it high on my 2024 list, cuz he ate that) (um, hypothetically ofc). Vidbir sound-alike is huge praise for a country that normally takes the role of a Schrödinger's qualifier and it was nice to for once know exactly what we were getting here.

REEEEEYNE N FYAAAAAAAA GAEDE MEHEEHEEEEEE

And here we get to the delivery of the song and, I mean, it's Moldova. How else are they going to tackle a song about pagan wedding ceremonies?

Moldova don't care about your stupid "wokeness". (good grief the (unselfaware) ableists freaking out about the little person. ALLOW PEOPLE MAKE A LIVING THE WAY THEY WISH TO, GOOD GRIEF. Dwarfism is not a cognitive disability, they have full agency to work in the entertainment industry. Stop behaving like they need you to emancipate against "the oppressive straight white cismale".)

Moldova don't care about trifles such as appearing "competent" to your insipid juries.

MOLDOVA IS REAL, always aiming fully maximize their entertainment factor for the lowest possible cost, and thank fuck they do.

Only this country could stage their performer as karate-chopping at a little person and make it light entertainment.

Only this country could take a quirky, Ukraine-coded electrofolk fusion and stage it like a weird grotesquerie,

Only this country could bring irreverence with such unerring earnesty.

"Soarele si luna" was a yet another solid showcase of what Moldova excell at, raw intuitive entertainment with no strings attached. Of course, we're in 2023 and being fun doesn't matter in the overal rankings. The least I can do in those cases is give a high spot to those who've been paid dirt the most.~

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

07. LITHUANIA Monika Linkyte - "Stay" 11th place

youtube

Decade ranking: 25/116 [Above Stefania (Last Dance), below Sam Ryder]

HOORAY FOR YET ANOTHER YEAR OF LITHUANIA AT THE TOP OF MY BALTIC SISTER RANKING~

(enjoy it for the moment lithuanian readers, because a certain song about narcotics is threatening to take that crown away in 2024...x)

We have finally reached a point where the placements on my ranking more or less match the scoreboard, praise hallelujah. Of the robbed outsiders only Joker Out remain, and they're here to stay. :dramatic cymbal:

Speaking of both Outsiders and Stay, Lithuania were also kind of an outsider at first. After Monika beat Ruta Mur in PiN, I didn't think they would come close to a top 10 - clearly So Low was The Choice, Right? I honestly I don't know if I can feel that way any more. "Stay" aged really well. Ruta is an icon, but she did not have the Monika's secret weapon. She did not have -

ČIŪTOOO TŪŪŪTOOO

And what is "Stay" if not čūitooooo tūūūtoooo. Like legit, those two words, that's ALL it took. Those two words, that mantra, repeated over and over and over again, is what endeared her to me and juries (this is Lithuania. LITHUANIA. and juries liked them.).

Adding more čiūto tūto such a simple, elegant tweak, but one that Monika masterfully delivered. The hook is as strong as steel, but it is her charisma and her harmonies with the gospel choir which bent it into pure wholesomeness.

"Stay" is not the strongest composition, but it was an effective one. What it did exceptionally well was deliver the home comforts. The song is blanket, a fleece, a cuddle. It's the musical equivalent to eating a hearty meal by a lit fireplace, leaning against the warm body of your beau or belle. It is the spirit of Nature Is Healing in music form. It is a mental health balm covered by a mantle čiūto tūto. Lithuania earned their spot on the left side of the scoreboard and that's about as positive a surprise we're gonna get with these darksided results.

THE RANKING

#Eurovision #ESC #Eurovision Song Contest #ESC 2023 #Eurovision 2023 #Liverpool 2023 #Borisbubbles #Moldova #Pasha Parfeni #Soarele si luna #Lithuania #Monika Linkyte #Stay

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tag-that-oc · 1 month

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ok long ramble up ahead — tw kinda gorey descriptions, eye stuff

so i have what i call ‘solo’ ocs - which are ocs that i created without a story (at first at least) and they don’t really have a fleshed out cast of supporting characters and ive been sooooo obsessed with them lately so here’s what tarot cards i think fit them best and what the designs of them on those cards would be

Devil’s Advocate (D.A.) / Daisy as The Devil - okay this fits too easily but you must also know that she’s a LAWYER. and i decided that The Devil fit better than Justice. why - other than the fact that she just is a devil, one of the meanings attributed to the card (from a quick search) is shadow selves and Daisy’s thing is all about how she’s escaping all the expectations and the image of this ‘sweet, innocent’ little girl who can’t be taken seriously, to instead be this free devil, when everyone thinks the old Daisy is dead. some of the other meaning (especially the reverse ones) also kinda fit too !!

but ANYWAY onto the design of the card : she’s (of course) the devil and i imagine her leaning on the judge’s stand very lazily. she’s in this classy angular suit and has grey skin and fire hair billowing up. her sharp teeth are bared in a grin and she’s a got a hand with pointed claws gestured up beside her. on one side of her is the shadowy figure of the prosecutor (yeahhh she’s an attorney), who is much smaller than her on the card, and on the other side are the reporters (also shadowy figures, also small. chains are connected to each, held in her hand. the courtroom behind her is barely lit, as though at dusk, her fire being the brightest thing in there. shadow-people line the walls like in pews - they’re the jury. the way the little bit of light is scattered around the room and through the window makes it seem like there’s a stained glass window behind her and it’s a cathedral. you may see a glimpse of the bright, human daisy. behind her in the light

Shrike as Justice - and HERES a character that fits Justice SOOOO extremely well. and shrike is all about 1) hunger, and of much more relevance, 2) vengeance. she is LITERALLY eye for an eye..

I imagine Shrike emerging from her basement prison, dirtied and bloodied and cast in a heavy shadow. she’s dressed in a very dirty, very bloody, brown butcher’s apron, trousers and linen shirt. on one side she is missing an eye, a dark gorey cavity left instead, her face also heavily scarred on that side, but a shrike’s wing is extended in its full beautiful glory. on her other side, there is an eye, looking dead on and murderous, but her wing on that side is torn in half, sinew flesh and bone pressing out from sparse ruffled feathers. she is holding a knobbly cane that’s pretty much just a stick on the side of her bad eye, and she holding a massive, menacing axe on the side of her bad wing. blah blah all of these im making metaphors for vengeance and justice blah blah

AND FINALLLYYYY Sunada as Strength - my newest oc !! and her whole thing is being strong in all senses of the word and having influence. she is also incredibly intimidating but that may be less relevant lmao

the beast most associated with her is the phoenix, so in this i imagine she’s wrestling a phoenix. and i MEAN wrestling. they are brawling - she is pinning it to the ground and wrenching its beak open. Sunada is at a side profile and her black hair falls in curtains in the far side of her face. she is determined as she stares down the phoenix. she’s dressed in dress trousers, a blazer hanging half-off, and a shirt that’s loosely tucked and half unbuttoned. she has a bulky, top heavy build and is SOO butch it’s unbelievable. the embers and feathers of the phoenix fly everywhere and the card is so so red.

anyways yeah im so normal about them. D.A. I made a while back and i haven’t really revisited but i still love her so much while the other two are a LOT more recent and im still actively thinking about them… sighhh badass women save me

this is SO cool i LOVE tarot card imagery. youve put so much thought into this its super cool!!!

#cinocappu #oc show and tell #moss answers #gore #tw gore

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taichouu · 6 days

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Would you mind sharing some info about your oc x canon? :3 what's their dynamic like?

Looking up at you like this . You have activated the unskippable cutscene. (OLD!!!!!! ass art incoming.)

I have a few oc x canon ships I absolutely adore from many different fandoms ^_^ the one that has taken up a huge place in my heart since forever is one of my bnha/ my hero academia ships.

|| I don't interact with the fandom or the source material as much anymore publicly (I've talked abt this before) but they just can't leave my mind! ||

You've met my oc Kou before! She is very much my bread and butter oc, I do a lot with her because shes my favorite to draw. She started out as a my hero oc, though, so I find that's where she really flourishes!! I pair her with Tokoyami! 🙈 They don't have an official ship name (my friend group calls them TokoKou on occasion) or anything but I draw them literally all the time even to this day. They're my top oc x canon ship by a long shot LOL to me they go together like tofu + soy sauce, it feels weird to draw one without the other.

(GOD THIS ART COULD QUALIFY AS AN ARCHEOLOGICAL DISCOVERY ,,,)

They gift me so much joy, and their dynamic is so interwoven .. they're extremely strong characters on their own but they are also twin flames to me!

Kou is an owl girl (LITERALLY); she is weird and flighty and yet couldn't be more endearing. She is the definition of a hopeless romantic and loves The Overexaggerated and Dramatic in the world. She has a very loving connection to the moon and cherishes nighttime and the concept of darkness that is borderline religious. She's a big poetry girl, she's confident in her independence and prefers to be on her own for most things. She is pretty open about who she is, but often wishes she handled things with more maturity or coolness.

Tokoyami is an edgelord. He struggles with his self image but only in the way a teenage goth can. He talks in riddles and older prose + tries very hard and yet not at all to cultivate a persona for himself but he genuinely just likes acting like he's batman. He is an extremely sweet individual, even though he looks like he hates everyone 100% of the time with his major rbf. He also definitely is a poetry lover, idk if that's necessarily canon but I feel it in my heart.

How can I even describe what they've gone through that's taken ME 5+ years to go through .. in their lore, they bond tightly as friends and as internship partners under Hawks and the events of the series. They are extremely fond of each other even before they start their romantic relationship, and I always find new ways they pull new facades out of each other when they're together.

I also like to tell everyone in the world that Tokoyamis favorite food is apples while Kous are blood oranges, which obviously is a sign that they are meant to be each other's olive rule 🙈 (They do however always debate which fruit is more superior; jury's still out on the answer.)

^_^ I always enjoy writing and drawing for them. They're a huge comfort for me for sure. I'm ALWAYS rearing to talk about them, it's embarrassing.

I don't have any NEWER art on my phone (I have so much on my computer augh), but here. Have what are from the (shudders) archives........

#tai talks #mywaywardcupcake #mutuals!#aaah... (rolls on the ground)#if you read all that i love you. thank you

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arthropod-concoctions · 4 months

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My @mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @salty-seasick! I had a blast writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Can be read on AO3 or below the cut:

Relationship: Etho/Bdubs

Characters: Etho, Bdubs

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gender Identity, Trans Male Ethoslab, Coming Out, Hugs, Banter, Anxiety/Comfort

Summary: Angel and Echo may be the most powerful superheroes around, but they do have a life beyond that as well. Sometimes Echo wishes he could forget his personal life. Sometimes Angel wishes he could forget his heroic life. At least they have each other.

Note: the character called Sunny at the start of the fic is Etho.

~ * * * ~

“I think my superhero alter ego should be a guy,” Sunny said, sitting on the couch with her legs folded underneath her.

“You- really?” Bdubs was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, looking at the paper where he was sketching outfits for the two of them, but he looked up to reply to Sunny. “What makes you say that?”

“For anonymity, you know?” she replied. “If the new superheroes on the block are a guy and a girl, everyone’s gonna be looking for a guy and a girl, and someone might realise it’s us. But if it’s two guys, we’ll never be suspected.”

Bdubs let out a surprised laugh, but nodded. “Okay. You know what, that’s actually pretty smart. Sure.” He grabbed another paper, this one with two lists of bullet points, and added another point to one: “`Sunny: superhero is a man.’ Wonderful. Uh, do we have to change your outfit as well then?”

“Let me see,” Sunny replied, leaning over Bdubs’ shoulder to look at the designs. “No, I think that’s still good.” The design of the outfit had some of her hair poking out, but that wouldn’t be a problem; her hair was quite short already. She liked it that way, it was just more convenient. And the outfit didn’t show much skin; for anonymity, and to prevent from accidentally touching something she shouldn’t while using her power. If she played her cards right, maybe used a voice modulator, no one would suspect that the hero might be a woman.

“Good.” Bdubs said. “Alright, next point: names. Any ideas?”

“Hmm…” Sunny thought. “Something like Ecto? If I’m going to be phasing through things, like a ghost…”

“Ecto…” Bdubs was quiet for a few seconds, then snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! Echo! Hear me out. I’ll be Angel, because I have the voice of an angel, and you’ll be that voice’s echo. I’ll use my singing, and then when they least expect it, you’ll show up and give them a beating. Angel and Echo.”

“Right, I see,” Sunny said, smiling and leaning back. “I’ll be secondary to you, just the way you want it.”

“No- I- no, of course not!” Bdubs laughed, and moved onto the couch, wrapping his arms around Sunny. “I’m sorry. Come on, Sunshine, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Bdubs, I think the jury’s still out on that one…” Sunny laughed, then returned Bdubs’ embrace, putting her head on top of his. “I’m just kidding. Of course you didn’t mean it. You’d never say mean things about me, would you?” she asked, sarcasm lacing her voice.

“I never say mean things,” Bdubs agreed, and then they just sat for a moment, enjoying each other’s touch. Until Bdubs spoke up: “Just two superhero dudes hanging out.”

Sunny burst out laughing, and pushed Bdubs off of herself. “Come on, dude, you ruined the moment!” she said.

Bdubs laughed too. “I have to get some practice in, you know? If y- if Echo’s going to be a guy, I have to really get that in my head.”

“Just Echo, not me. I mean, if you start treating me like a guy in person as well, that defeats the whole point!”

“Of course, of course.” Bdubs sighed contentedly, the laughter finally wearing off. “You and me, Echo and Angel. We’re gonna make a great team.”

- - - -

Echo sat on the roof of an apartment building, watching the sun rise over the city- over his city. His and Angel’s debut as superheroes a year ago had been a resounding success, and their corner of the city had never been safer. When something did happen, the two of them jumped to the chase, smoothly executing the tactic Bdubs had laid out for them back then: he would take their attention, distracting and potentially soothing them with his voice, and Echo would phase in from behind and knock them out. It was still a bit of a weird strategy to Echo. Bdubs insisted that his singing had an effect, that it was an essential part of the plan, but it barely seemed to slow their enemies down after the initial confusion. Whenever he sang to Echo, he couldn’t feel any effect either, but Bdubs always said he was simply holding back. Still, it seemed a little fishy to Echo.

I keep calling him Bdubs even when thinking about his hero persona, he thought to himself. I really shouldn’t do that. Not when I keep calling myself Echo instead of-

Well, that was the other weird thing. He- she- Sunny never called herself Sunny anymore. When alone, she wore Echo’s outfit whenever possible. When with other people, every time she noticed somebody looking at her, she just wanted to disappear, to phase out and maybe come back looking different. Every day, Sunny’s first thought was what he was going to do as Echo, rather than what she was going to do as Sunny.

The plan that Sunny had made a year ago was clear. To be a man as a superhero, and a woman in everyday life, to draw suspicion away from herself.

He’s afraid it might have backfired spectacularly.

Well, I’m gonna need a new name again, he thought. Obviously he couldn’t start calling himself Echo to his friends and family as well. He thought back to the day when they were brainstorming superhero names. ‘Ecto’ was the name that popped into his head back then, was there anything he could do with that? It was very similar to Echo, but maybe he removing the `k’-sound would help. Etto, Eto…

Etho?

“Etho,” he said to himself, slowly. It had a nice ring to it. He tried again: “Hello everybody, my name is Etho…”

A smile crept onto his face. It was a very good name.

He phased out, becoming completely invisible and intangible to the outside world, then began descending through the walls the building. He kept his eyes closed as he did so, careful not to look inside the other residents’ apartments. After a minute, he’d ended up back in his own apartment; he opened his eyes, and phased back in, feet thumping the ground as if he’d jumped.

After taking a quick shower, Etho got dressed in his usual getup; sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a comfy jacket. He’d always valued comfort over fashion, a preference which had gotten stronger over the years; in hindsight, that was probably because he’d been looking at the wrong fashion.

I should probably go shopping for new clothes soon, huh? he thought to himself. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, to be honest. Should he tell Bdubs about his decision immediately? This seemed like the kind of thing you had to think about for longer than one morning before going around telling people. Not to mention his relationship with Bdubs… probably wouldn’t be the same. He hadn’t fallen in love with a guy, after all. But then, would acting like nothing’s changed be any better? Maybe-

Suddenly, he heard a pounding at his door. He jerked around in surprise to look at it; he rarely got visitors, and that didn’t exactly sound like a friendly knock. Had he pissed off his neighbours somehow? Now he heard a rattle; someone was messing with his lock. That worried him; he put Echo’s gloves back on, just in case there’d be a fight, then opened the door.

Bdubs stood on the other side of it, his copy of the apartment key in his hand. He jolted in surprise when the door opened. “You are awake!” he said.

“Yeah, I’m awake. What the hell are you doing, man? Did you…” he trailed off, taking a good look at Bdubs now. He seemed to be out of breath, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was shaking. “Wait, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Never better. Can I come in?”

Etho stepped aside, letting Bdubs enter. “Are you being chased? Do we need to fight somebody?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m not being chased. Not anymore. Not yet, I mean.” Bdubs walked over to the couch, and collapsed onto it. Despite his prior statement, he was clearly not feeling well.

What? “Okay…” Etho felt a stab of nerves in his chest. He sat down next to Bdubs. “You know, it’s actually pretty good that you came over. We need to talk.”

“Yeah. We do,” Bdubs said.

Etho instantly regretted that statement. The thing he was going to say suddenly didn’t seem nearly as important as whatever Bdubs was dealing with. “…Uh, should we maybe go visit the doctor’s? You-”

“No!” Bdubs interrupted Etho, grabbing his wrist. “We’re not going outside today, alright?”

Etho removed the hand from his wrist, and took a deep breath. Bdubs was making him nervous. Usually he was the paranoid one, and Bdubs was the one that gave him confidence; how the hell was he supposed to deal with this? “That statement doesn’t exactly make me more confident in your good health, Bdubs.”

“Look, Etho, I need you to tr-”

They both froze. What on earth? “How did you-”

Bdubs snorted. “Uh oh,” he said. “I’ve just messed up, haven’t I?”

“You…” Etho was flabbergasted. “Well, you did something, that’s for sure! How- I’m gonna need some explanations here.”

Bdubs closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “Right. Explanations. It’s probably about time, huh?” “So, you know how I always say that my superpower is singing?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s nonsense. It has nothing to do with singing, that’s just a distraction. Really, it’s… I get nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” Etho said. “Okay.” That didn’t explain how he knew his name.

“I get nightmares that tell me exactly how I’m going to die that day.” “`nightmare’ isn’t the right word, really,” he continued. “Honestly, they might not even be dreams. Nothing unnatural happens in them, it’s just regular life. And then something- or someone- comes along and kills me. Or, in this case, kills us.”

“Oh,” Etho said softly. He grabbed Bdubs’ hand. “Why haven’t you told me about this earlier?”

“You would’ve laughed at me.” Bdubs looked at the wall as he spoke. He was still shaking. “A guy gets a bad dream every now and again, and thinks it’s a superpower?”

Etho shook his head. “I would’ve believed you.”

Bdubs turned to look at him. “Would you really?”

He didn’t respond immediately. Truth be told, he would probably be skeptical of this story, had Bdubs not started it by saying Etho’s name before he could reasonably know it. But Etho was skeptical of everything. If he decided he couldn’t even believe Bdubs, what would he do then? “I would have trusted your judgement,” he eventually said.

Bdubs didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t seem convinced, but eventually he spoke up: “Alright. Thanks, S- Etho.”

Suddenly, Etho felt another spike of anxiety in his chest. Right. Guess there was no postponing that conversation now. Bdubs chuckled weakly, apparently not seeing the worry on Etho’s face. “Boy. This was supposed to be your day, and I’ve really gone and made it all about me, huh?”

“I mean, we can keep talking about you if you want. I know you like to do that,” Etho said. “So, nighmares, huh? Can you tell me how exactly-”

“No.” Bdubs cut him off. “Listen, I… I really don’t want to talk about it. Not while it’s still… fresh.”

“Oh,” Etho replied quietly. He berated himself internally. Of course Bdubs wouldn’t want to go into details about their deaths. “Looks like we’re at a stalemate then,” he said. Because, truth be told, he didn’t want to talk about himself either right now. Actually, he kind of wanted to phase out and run off into the distance somewhere. Dream-Etho had made a mistake telling Bdubs, he must have. There was no way-

“Etho, I can see your mind freaking out just by looking at you,” Bdubs said, looking Etho in the eyes and smiling gently. “Come on. You really think I’m gonna stop loving you ‘cause you’re a guy?”

Etho let out a strained half-laugh. “I mean…”

“No!” Bdubs grabbed Etho’s hand with both of his, and leaned in closer to him. “I didn’t fall in love with you just because you were a girl. I fell in love with you because you were thoughtful, and smart, and competent, and had nice hair, and were you. And if a guy has all that, if a guy is you, I’ll love him just the same. C’mere.”

Bdubs wrapped his arms around Etho, who’s shoulders dropped as he reciprocated. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been tensing them. Etho leaned forwards as well, putting his face on Bdubs’ shoulder. Bdubs’ mouth was right next to his ear, so he heard him whisper: “And this isn’t the nightmare-brain talking. I said this exact thing the first time.”

Etho opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He was shaking- or maybe that was still Bdubs. Maybe they were both shaking, and their relative moods would cancel each other out if they just held each other tightly enough.

Then, after a minute or so, Etho’s stomach rumbled. He lifted his face up again and slowly, reluctantly, let go of Bdubs. He suddenly felt a tear running down his face.

Etho chuckled as he reached out and wiped the tear off of his face. “You haven’t eaten breakfast either, huh? We should probably get on that.”

Etho giggled quietly. He was still a bit shaky, but feeling infinitely better than before the hug. “Wait, you left the house before eating breakfast? Wow, you must really be messed up today.”

Bdubs grinned, his typical wide grin which fit his bloodshot eyes remarkably well, in a weird way. “Yeah. That proves it, huh?” he said, and then got up to walk to the kitchen.

Etho followed him, and grabbed two bowls to put cereal in. As the two of them were preparing their breakfast, Bdubs spoke up again: “You know, there’s something else I feel like I should say, about this.”

Etho froze, holding a spoon in mid-air. “And what’s that?”

“I saw this coming a freaking mile away.”

Etho laughed, dropping his spoon and turning to look at Bdubs. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah!” Bdubs said, laughing as well. “I mean, come on. The love of your life, who has a boy haircut and only ever wears hoodies says ‘hey, I want to be a boy, but only as a superhero!’ and- you know, I wasn’t born yesterday!”

Etho continued laughing. “I guess the signs were there, huh? Although you figured it out before I did if that’s true.” He chuckled. “Maybe you saw it in a dream, just like…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, and neither did Bdubs. Etho sighed. He had to say something, or this would eat at him. “Look, I know you didn’t want to talk about it but… if somebody if this city was going to kill us, I want to know as much about them as I can.”

Bdubs looked at the ground, and didn’t respond immediately. “I just- can we talk about it later? When my brain isn’t all messed up. Right now I just wanna… watch a movie, or something.”

“I don’t know if I can-”

“We started it,” Bdubs interrupted him. “We started the fight. That’s the important part. He’s not gonna come to us if we just… happen to stay inside today.”

Etho nodded. “Alright.” He tried to banish the worry from his mind. Taking a rain day would probably be good for their health regardless, honestly. “So what movie were you thinking?”

Bdubs shrugged.

“The A-Team?” Etho suggested.

“Oh, god. Just because you’re a dude doesn’t mean your taste in movies has to get worse, Etho.”

Etho snorted. He finished making his cereal, then moved back to the couch with Bdubs.

As Bdubs was flipping through channels on the TV, Etho stretched his arms, then laid one of them around Bdubs’ shoulder. “You know what, Bdubs?” he said. “We really are just two dudes hanging out now.”

“We are!” Bdubs responded, leaning his head back into Etho’s arm. “Two dudes. Etho and Bdubs. We can take on the world, you know.”

Except for what you saw in your dream… Etho shook his head. They were in mortal peril as superheroes all the time. They could take one day off from worrying about that side of their lives. For now, Etho was content to enjoy himself-- really enjoy himself, as he’d never been able to in his life—and enjoy Bdubs’ company.

#VIBRATES EXCITEDLY #arthropod writes #mcytblrholidayexchange2023 #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #ethubs #last life smp #hermitcraft #trafficshipping #hermitshipping

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regallibellbright · 1 year

Text

I’m pretty sure this is two metas stapled together under the umbrella of character parallels:

@paxesoterica replied: Poke

Okay so. G-Witch’s first episode homages Revolutionary Girl Utena’s, and Ichiro Okouchi, the writer of the show, also wrote the novelizations for Utena. If anyone reading this didn’t know these facts, now you do! This led to some pretty obvious parallels being drawn, especially with the characters who feature heavily in episode 1:

In the first episode of Utena, our protagonist Utena Tenjou challenges Kyouichi Saionji to a duel because he’s an ass, and becomes the fiance of the Rose Bride, Anthy Himemiya.

In the first episode of G-Witch, our protagonist Suletta Mercury challenges Guel Jeturk to a duel because he’s an ass, and in so doing becomes the Holder, the fiance of Miorine Rembran.

Meanwhile, G-Witch establishes the rest of the Dueling Committee, an organization that serves the same general purpose as the Student Council (who were all duelists) in Utena. The roles here aren’t exact - it seems increasingly unlikely Secelia and Rouji are going to duel themselves at this rate - but you can pretty well map Suletta-Utena, Miorine-Anthy, Guel-Saionji. Additionally, it’s not hard to compare Shaddiq Zenelli, who takes a leading observer role as a member of the Dueling Committee in that first episode, to Touga Kiryuu, the Student Council President.

I’d also argue that Elan 4 is sort of a combination Nanami and Juri, but that’s a stretch, and that’s the point, because even early on we see these characters aren’t just “Utena but in Gundam”. Miorine actively and openly resents her father for setting up this whole system, for one thing, where Anthy never truly considers breaking the cycle of duels until the finale. There’s also a huge thematic difference in how the two series treat adults, with adults and especially parents all but absent in Utena save Akio (who wouldn’t get away with any of this shit if there were an adult who wasn’t kissing his ass around,) and omnipresent in G-Witch. Which is mostly relevant here to Shaddiq. Under the cut, I talk about both!

So the thing I keep rotating in my mind with Shaddiq is the idea that he’s taking that “lead antagonist among the teen characters” role the same way Touga is, even into the second half. We’re all expecting Prospera or Quiet Zero to be the final threat, Shaddiq’s not going to displace her unless he tries to bring all of humanity beyond the data storm. He just can’t top that. But where Touga was the runner-up antagonist because he was imitating Akio, still largely trying to win within the dueling system, Shaddiq’s the runner-up because he was never really plotting in the bounds of the duels. He wanted Gund-arm and Miorine, but I think it’s become clear his plans were conceived well before another Gundam appeared and they could be granted legitimacy. As such, he doesn’t actually need them, they just would’ve been nice. At the end, Touga wanted to usurp princeliness for himself and princessdom for Utena, to take her away from Akio and whatever was coming next. Shaddiq wants to restructure the Benerit Group via good old-fashioned violent corporate coups. Like, say, Vim Jeturk. In a way, they’re both copying a model of adulthood, but Shaddiq’s managing to do it OVER his own father’s head where Touga was never actually out of Akio’s pocket. There’s just enough there you can still see the parallels if you squint. And then there’s Guel.

Okay, we’re all joking about what an unending parade of suffering Guel’s life has become. To call him the Saionji by this point SEVERELY UNDERSELLS what he’s been through, because when Saionji was shown the brutal reality underneath all the glamor of the duels, it was a solely existential blow. But I do think they have similar arcs, roughly.

Both Saionji and Guel get their asses handed to them by the newcomer.

Both Saionji and Guel duel her again, trying to repair their own egos, and lose.

With both Saionji and Guel, it quickly becomes apparent that what they really want isn’t the girl, it’s legitimacy and approval from someone who will never give it to them (Guel and his father, Saionji and Touga,) and genuine human affection.

Both Saionji and Guel get thrown out of school. And both Saionji and Guel get a taste of the thematic beating heart of the show underneath the duels. Saionji realizes in episode 10 - of 39 - that the castle’s an illusion, and is the one to say that “we’re all still in our coffins” before Anthy brings the idea up again in the finale. Guel gets taken hostage and kills his father. And then he gets taken hostage again, and sees Earth combat at its most brutal, contrasting the flashier Gundam vs Gundam fighting that’s been most of what Suletta’s seen and done. (Even Suletta’s extremely bloody slapdown was still more over-the-top than what we see in Episode 15.)

Saionji knows this whole thing’s a sham, but when he gets the chance to be part of it all again, he takes it. Touga sucks him back into it all because he still wants to be equal again, even as Saionji knows he shouldn’t want to win.

Guel has had a drastically more traumatic time. But still, he’s trying to get back to Lauda and what’s left of his father, still searching for something he’s never going to get. This might be the point where he finally breaks the parallel, later than every other character (as I said, Shaddiq has hopscotched over the adult in his life where Touga can’t. Miorine has seized agency for herself every step of the way, where Anthy takes so long in reclaiming hers. It is impossible to talk about Suletta’s arc without talking about Prospera, where the first thing we ever learn about Utena is “she was very sad, because her mother and father had died.”) And there’s a half-formed idea there about how Guel’s “I haven’t moved forward since Suletta Mercury” kind of reflects that - Saionji never recovers from encountering Utena, either - but this is already a couple metas stapled together. And maybe he won’t diverge, maybe he’ll stay the Saionji ‘til the end, still realizing the horrors of war but trying to get the hell away from that reality.

Either way Guel seems very likely to continue having a terrible time. Poor bastard’s the cosmic chew toy of a Gundam show.

#g-witch #g witch #gundam witch from mercury #revolutionary girl utena #kyouichi saionji #guel jeturk #shaddiq zenelli #touga kiryuu #one of the notable ways guel is NOT like saionji: shaddiq does not matter to his character arc at all #and really this has more to do with their narrative roles than the ways they're similar as individual characters but #there's something there #discussion of violence

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call-me-eds · 2 years

Text

Girls Freak Me Out

Masterlist

Eddie x Reader

After graduating, Eddie isn’t as in the loop with the Hawkins population, especially when someone new comes to town.

Have you heard about the new girl on the block, in her black out benz? With her old school kicks and her hipster friends, got a peace sign in hand. She’s everything you want and all you hated, well dressed and overrated. Some girls freak me out.

“Who the hell is that?” Eddie asked. He was in Steve’s driveway, dropping off an extension cord he had borrowed for a show last week. They had become close recently, drawn together by a pushy 14-year old.

Eddie was looking across the street at a girl he had never seen before. Leaning over the hood of your car, you were taking advantage of the unseasonably warm September day in Hawkins to give it a wash. There were nice cars littering Steve’s street, but your custom Mercedes Benz with black detailing was beautiful. Almost enough to distract Eddie from the person washing it.

“New neighbor,” Steve explained. You kept fussing with her hair to move it out of your eyes, off of your neck, so Eddie only got flashes of what you looked like. What he could, see, though, he was already enamored with.

“Jeez, stop staring, she’ll call the cops on you.” Eddie rolled his eyes and shoved the wire into Steve’s arms.

“What’s her name?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I haven’t met her yet. Let’s go over,” Steve started walking down the driveway but Eddie grabbed his shoulder to stop him, the sudden reality of speaking to you dropping his heart into his stomach.

It had taken Eddie weeks to be able to call Steve, Robin, and Nancy friends. The jury was still out on Jonathon. The voice in the back of his head was constantly making him wonder what he would do to fuck it all up. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will were easy, they had D&D. Max and Eleven were harder to read, with their guarded exteriors, but he knew once Max started teasing him the way she did Steve and Eleven said that she liked the man screaming through his radio, that he could consider them buddies, as well.

“Now who’s the creep? Going over to introduce yourself while she’s in barely any clothes, all soaped up,” he sighed and ripped his eyes away, actually starting to be worried that you could feel his glance. Steve shrugged and let it go, but neither of them had to wait long to make their introductions.

The car that had been at the center of Eddie’s dreams screeched into the parking spot outside of the record store. It drew his attention from the Slayer album in his hands, and you bounding through the door kept his eyes up.

“‘Scuse me,” you said, reaching around him to finger through the records. He moved back a step and you continued to hum whatever song was coming through your headphones. When he was looking at you from the safety of Steve’s driveway, he couldn’t make out your specific features. Now, he was close enough to see the birthmark on your shoulder, the way your nose slanted to the right, the color of your eyes.

He had no clue what to say to you, or if he should say anything at all. He could tell your shoes were real leather, not the fake plastic blend he had on his body. You looked like the kind of person that would ridicule him in the hall, but the way you didn’t just shove past him made him second guess his instincts. He had to know more.

“Hey, you’re my new neighbor!” Eddie had left Steve on the other side of the store, with the top 40 records, but of course he popped back up. He was like a fungus. “I’m Steve, great to meet you,” he held out his hand and you laughed a little before shaking it.

“I’m Y/N,” you turned towards Eddie next. He expected a greeting, but you couldn’t ignore the way he had been looking at you the last five minutes. “Is there something on my face?” you asked.

“Nope,” Eddie shook his head and looked back down, quickly glancing at the record in your hands.

“What? Got a problem with The Smiths?”. He shook his head again and willed himself to think of more than one word to say to you, but Steve beat you to it.

“So, how you liking Hawkins so far?” Most of the time, Eddie hated Steve’s charm, but now he was thankful for it. He could entertain you while he just stood there, like an idiot.

Again, he was staring at you, eyes trailing over the brand on your sunglasses, the big purse, and the jeans that looked like they were hand-stitched to your body. You looked like everyone he absolutely could not stand, but he needed to know everything about you. The way you were so confident and immediately came for his throat, he had never met anyone like you.

“Alright, so we’ll see you later,” Steve smiled, clapping a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and breaking him out of his trance. “Let’s roll, Munson, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Eddie,” he said, finally speaking more than one syllable to you, even if it was just his name. “My name’s Eddie. If you ever need a hookup for some herbal let me know. But I can get my hands on pretty much anything.” He never outright offered his services like that, much less in a public space or when the sun was still out. Everyone knew that if they needed drugs, they should go to him. He worried he was too forward, outright assuming you were on the hunt for drugs from a stranger. Before he could apologize, you nodded and looked him up and down.

“Good to know, I will definitely be taking you up on that.” You scared the shit out of him.

Well daddy’s little girl knows how to party, she’s singing “Pour Some Sugar On Me.” She’s well versed in the new pop culture, always rolls with a camera by her side. Well, some girls just freak me out.

The next time Eddie spoke to you, you were standing on Steve’s coffee table, screaming the latest Def Leppard song as it pumped from the speakers. It was a little colder outside, now, but you were still in a cut off t-shirt and short skirt. He couldn’t look away. Well, until you pointed right at him.

Eddie looked over his shoulder to make sure that you weren’t calling someone that you actually had given an indication to liking. When he turned back to you, you nodded and beckoned him over.

“How can I help you?” he yelled over the music, reaching his hand up to help you down. It was already a vast improvement from your last interaction; the weed he had smoked let him talk to you without choking on his tongue. You grabbed his hand tightly and jumped down, stumbling a bit on your landing, but Eddie held you up.

“Have any of that fun stuff you mentioned?” you asked, cocking your head to the side. He should have guessed, it was the only thing you knew about him.

When Eddie was at a typical Hawkins party, he knew his role. He was there to keep quiet, give people drugs, and try to swipe a few valuables he could pawn. At Steve’s parties, he could take a breather and enjoy himself, not having to worry about fitting into the box people shoved him in. He was safe here.

That didn’t mean he came unprepared.

“Let me run outside and get my box out of my van,” he said, prepared to dash out of the house and return before you could change her mind about talking to him.

“I’ll come with you, I’m sweating bullets in here,” you pinched your shirt and waved it away from your body, trying to cool down.

“Okay,” Eddie looked up, trying not to focus on the flashes of your bra he was getting. He led you through the house, and with you still being a new presence in town and him being, well, him, you got out the door without much resistance. When he opened the van door, he tried to block your view of the garbage that littered his backseat.

“Here we go,” he propped the metal lunchbox on his knee and popped it open. “Pick your poison.” You stepped closer and peered inside, the liquor-induced confidence allowing you to pick through the little bags.

“That’s pretty,” you grinned, poking at a small baggie with pink pills. He didn’t think that he ever had someone go off of sight before.

“That definitely does not mix well with alcohol,” he warned, noticing how you were swaying on your feet.

“Well, what does and costs less than $20?” you asked, fishing a bill out from somewhere he couldn’t see. Eddie was no stranger to offering pretty girls free drugs, but never on a first sale. If he set that precedent, then he would never make any money.

“20 bucks? For you, anything in here. But my suggestion is to take it easy so you can enjoy the party,” he pointed to one of the joints that Robin insisted on separating into their own bags. She claimed ‘presentation was key’. He couldn’t deny that his customers appreciated the speedier sale times.

“For me?” you repeated. A deep blush settled into Eddie’s cheeks.

“Well, you’re Harrington’s new neighbor. I want to make sure that you feel welcome to the neighborhood,” he explained. You smiled, knowing that you made him feel a bit uncomfortable. Any time he saw you in town or across the street from Steve’s, he met your wave with a curt nod and picking up his pace. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he genuinely had no idea how to act around you.

Even though kids your age didn’t typically judge their drugs off of sight, people were a totally different situation, and you seemed to twist his expectations around again. You didn’t shy away when you saw him, Steve even said that she asked if you were from the neighborhood, too, and Eddie wanted to die when he learned that Steve told you the truth about where he lived.

“I would probably feel more welcome if you didn’t run away every time I saw you,” you teased, leaning against his car.

“I’m sorry about that. You just, make me nervous,” he shrugged. God, that was a lame excuse. You laughed, though, and he knew that he would say anything to make you giggle again.

“Get to know me, and I promise, I’m not that scary.” Usually, that was his line; it was nice to hear it from someone else..

She’s the sweetest, the sweetest thing but I know she’s no good for me. Gonna take you home and take off your clothes, Baby, I’m nothing but bad news.

“No, I’m serious, this is witchcraft!” You had been seeing a lot of each other as the fall changed to winter, although Eddie never wore more than his leather jacket. After a bout with a nasty cold, he accepted one of the scarves you knit in your free time, conceding that maybe he could cover up a bit more.

Now, you were attempting to teach him to knit himself, but he mostly just ended up knotting your yarn and using your needles to scratch his back.

“Just pay attention,” you sighed, grabbing his hands and trying to contort them in a way totally unnatural to him. Despite the fire crackling in your living room, your hands were freezing. He jumped back a little before dropping the project, an attempted hat, and grabbing your fingers, instead.

“Christ, did you just take these things out of the freezer?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and pulled your hands away, rubbing them against your legs to warm them up.

“Hot chocolate?” you asked him, already getting up to go to the kitchen. Eddie followed closely behind you, socks padding against the hardwood floors. He watched you flutter around the kitchen, grabbing enormous mugs and pulling out milk and whipped cream from the fridge. The soft calm imploded when he saw your hair fall over your shoulder right as you turned the flame on the stove.

“Holy shit, be careful! People are going to think I torture you,” he sprung up and, without thinking, collected your hair to the back of your head and tied it without technique, using the scrunchie from his own wrist. Another knit gift you forced him into taking.

“Thanks, that was kind,” you smiled up at him. He scoffed and walked back to the other side of the counter. “What, I can’t say something nice to you?” You entered into a staredown. Eddie tried his hardest not to let your infectious smile get to him. He could practically taste the sweetness in it from across the room.

“No, you can say whatever you want,” he shrugged, breaking the challenge and looking at the boiling pot on the stove. You lapsed into silence, assembling the drinks and letting Eddie fill half of his cup with marshmallows before you spoke again.

“You do that a lot, you know,” you said. He gave you a confused look, asking for an explanation. “You never accept a compliment. I can tell you that you're kind, or I like your shirt, or even thank you for picking me up, and you always shrug it off. I wish you wouldn’t.”

In your few weeks of getting to know Eddie, his shyness turned into a bravado. Now that he knew you weren’t interested in ridiculing him, his feux confidence oozed into everything. You could tell he still didn’t trust you, though. If he did, he wouldn’t put up the front.

“You’re really great, Eddie,” you said earnestly.

“You’re sweet, but-”

“No buts! You’re great, I’m sweet, end of conversation,” you stopped him, putting a hand over his.

“Okay,” he couldn’t meet your eyes, biting his lip to keep from grinning wildly. “Jesus, you’re still freezing. Should we try skin to skin contact?”

There were more knitting lessons, some private concerts, and a lot of late night conversations between you and Eddie. Even though you were right across the street, he always insisted on walking you home when you were at Steve’s, which turned into talking for 20 minutes outside your door. Then, you’d gab for another hour when you called him to make sure he made it home okay.

You thought you were showing your cards too much, being a little desperate, but Eddie’s outer shell started to melt away and you began to like his presence even more. He was funny, and so endearing, you almost wished you had moved into the trailer across the way.

He came to expect your calls, but your presence on Thursday evenings were a new, surprising addition to his routine. Steve or Nancy had been taking turns picking up the younger kids from D&D at his house, and when Steve went you began to tag along.

“Okay, you shrimps are squeezing in the back,” he said, making them begin to fight on who was sitting on top of who.

“I can just drive Y/N home,” Eddie shrugged, raising his eyebrows at you for approval. You nodded and tried to keep your face neutral, your unrevealed plan having worked.

“Then why didn’t you just drive us all home?” Mike asked. Steve smiled, not hiding his teasing expression, and bid you both goodnight as he walked out of the trailer. The energy instantly leveled, and Eddie let a sigh fall from him.

“God, you’d think they all chugged a pot of coffee before they get here,” he dropped onto the couch and patted the seat next to him for you to inhabit.

“They just get excited to hang out with you,” you smiled. “Why do you think I came over?” You reached behind him for the blanket draped over the cushions.

“I actually think it’s for the opposite reason,” his tone was light. If he kept up an unserious mood while moving closer to you and brushing his leg against yours under the sheath of the blanket, then it wasn’t a big deal. It couldn’t be. “I give them all this energy and then dump them on Harrington or Nancy, and you get me at the end of the night when I’m exhausted and compliant.”

“Oh yeah, I could totally get you to do anything I wanted to right now,” you smiled. A shiver ran through your body, giving the two of you another excuse to intertwine. You pressed against each other during movies, or while in line at the crowded coffee shop, but now you were just cuddling in silence, no facade to cover up your desire to be close.

“Just give me the word,” he said, and you both knew he wasn’t joking. He was wrapped around your finger.

Hooked up with the new girl on the block, wonder where she’s been. Now I’m laughing, drinking with my friends. Body shots ‘til the party ends, yeah, did I clean up the mess? Go to hell, well, some girls just freak me out.

He didn’t know how, but Eddie knew he had royally fucked up. It had been two weeks since he spoke to you, two weeks since he touched you.

“Is this a bad idea?” you asked, putting your hands on his chest and panting slightly.

“Totally,” he nodded, holding you tightly. “I’m bad news, but you’re just plain trouble,” he leaned forward again and sealed your lips together, making you forget any hesitation you had.

You weren’t apprehensive because of the reputation Eddie carried around, it was because you value your friendship so much.

It was really, really, difficult not to be attracted to Eddie. He was so rough on the outside but so compassionate once you talked to him for more than a minute. All of his friends let you right into the group, cutting your alone time down to both of your chagrin. When he invented fake, non-refundable plans for the two of you so you could hang out alone, you suspected that he might be attracted to you, too.

You needed to be the one to ask him to hang out for the first time, and it took a bit longer before he was fully comfortable in your presence, so you weren’t shocked when you had to be the one to kiss him first. When you did, it was even better than you thought it was going to be.

The next day, when you called him to make plans again, the giddiness in both of your voices was embarrassingly childlike. Finally, though, his feelings were right on the surface for you to see.

The second, third, fourth times that you hooked up with Eddie were amazing. You were having just as incredible a time together as usual, but now with an added layer of pleasure. When you were together he was attentive, sincere, and it was far too enjoyable to be one-sided.

You began to notice that when the next morning came around, you were always the one to call him, or to make the next plans. Was all of the time spent and conversations some sort of long game for him to get in your pants? It felt like a real friendship, but how long had you actually known these people? Did you make a mistake?

The last time you hooked up, two weeks ago, you promised yourself that you weren’t going to be the one to reach out.

“God, what did we even do before this?” he asked, rolling off of you and pressing kisses to your bare shoulder.

“We did whatever friends do,” you smiled.

“Friends definitely don’t do that,” he laughed. You knew he didn’t mean it how it came out, that you weren’t friends. He just meant that you were partaking in some activities outside of the normal realm of friendship, but your insecurity was looking for something to latch on to.

“Then I guess I’ll go,” you sat up and started pulling clothes from the floor, quicker than usual. Suddenly the idea of Eddie looking at you was too personal, too vulnerable. He tried to think if you mentioned having plans or something to do and why you were rushing out of his bed.

“Are you sure? You can stay, I have nothing going on,” he shrugged. He didn’t expect a pat on the back, but he thought he was being gentlemanly with you.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, barely looking back at him.

You didn’t call after that. If he wanted to see you again, he was going to have to put forth the effort. Which he clearly didn’t, because you didn’t hear from him until you were, once again, trying to make new friends at a party.

Eddie was having the time of his life. He had been feeling so much more confident since he had started seeing you, and it pulled through to every facet of his life. He raised the band’s performance rate, stopped accepting IOU’s for drugs, and even convinced himself that surely, he’d be able to figure out how to change the oil in the van himself. The last one may have been a bit premature, but still, if someone had told him six months ago that he’d be at a party hosted by any of the former sports captains from high school, he’d have laughed in their face. Now, he was cracking jokes, not even at the expense of anyone, and people were laughing along with him, not at him.

He knew it was because of you, and the lack of contact for the last two weeks hadn’t gone unnoticed. As slowly his confidence with you grew, it was ripped away like it was never there. He was suddenly afraid to call you up, worried that if he said the wrong thing you would actually tell him that you never wanted to speak to him again. If he didn’t talk to you, you couldn’t cut him off.

Irrational, he knew. It was why Eddie came to the party in the first place, before cups of beer started being put into his hands. He hoped that if he ran into you that he’d be able to either talk out whatever he had done, or maybe you’d just forgive him if he apologized enough.

“Come on, Wheeler, you can’t deny me of this,” he wrapped his arms around Nancy’s waist and scooped her up, her screeching not doing anything to deter him.

“Eddie, no,” she laughed. “Jonathon, help!” Eddie looked back at Jonathan. He would let Nancy go if her boyfriend had a problem with it, he was not looking to sever any of the new relationships he had gotten his hands on. But the older Byers boy just continued to laugh and nod his head after seeing the smile on Nancy’s face.

“I’ll let you do one off of me, next” he bargained. She laid back on the counter Eddie set her on and lifted her sweater up until right underneath her bra.

“God, it’s cold,” she gasped as he poured liquor into the concave of her stomach.

You walked through the kitchen of the house just in time to see him lick a line up her torso and slurp against her skin.

“Hey, Y/N! Your turn, come on,” Robin tried to wave you over, but you just held up your hand and moved through quickly to get to any other room.

“Where has she been?” Nancy asked, wiping down herself and sitting up with a little help from Eddie’s supportive hand on her back.

“Yeah, what did you do to piss her off?” Robin asked.

“I didn’t do anything,” Eddie frowned, taking small sips from his cup to avoid talking.

“Uh, yeah you did. You’d be parked outside of my house, like, three nights a week, but you were never hanging out in my room,” Steve snitched. Eddie punched his arm with the minimal amount of force he had.

“Well, I really like Y/N, go clean up your mess,” Nancy demanded. He bit back the defiance on his tongue, simply from being told what to do. He knew that she was right, though. He had to repair whatever he had destroyed.

After draining what was left in his cup, he set it down on the counter and went to go search for you. You weren’t dancing in the living room, waiting on line outside of the bathroom, or hanging out in the kitchen when Eddie circled back there. In favor of opening every door on the second level, Eddie decided to try his luck outside first.

Low and behold, you were sitting on the porch swing.

“Jesus, it’s freezing out here, what are you doing?” he asked, taking off his jacket and going to drape it over your shoulders. You shook your head and scooted impossible closer to the edge of the seat. “Babe, you’re going to get frostbite.”

“Oh, go to hell,” you spat, standing up and leaning your hands on the railing and keeping your eyes trained on your shoes. He waited a few seconds with bated breath before walking up to the railing and standing a few feet away from you.

“Y/N,” he started slowly, not wanting to make you have another outburst. “Can we please talk?”

“You’re already talking,” you snapped.

“Okay, can we have a conversation, then?” he remedied. You shrugged and continued to look away from him. Eddie didn’t even know where to begin. With an apology? He didn’t know what to apologize for. He saw you shiver and extended his coat again. “Please just take my coat,” he sighed.

“I don’t want your damn coat,” you frowned.

“Then what do you want, Y/N? You’re not saying anything and I’m left in the lurch, here!” He was desperate at this point.

The first few days that he didn’t get a phone call from you, he admittedly barely noticed. Between carting the kids around, driving an hour and a half each way to get a specific brand of guitar strings, and picking up extra shifts with Uncle Wayne, he was a busy guy these days. By the time day 5 rolled around, he needed some serious relaxation time and was really planning on giving you a call, but then he fell asleep. And then before he knew it it had been a week.

When Steve said he hadn’t heard you, or when he drove by and your blinds snapped shut, he figured something was up.

“Please, just tell me how to fix this.”

“How to fix what, Eddie? It’s not a relationship. So what is there to fix?” you asked.

You thought of the facts before you made the decision to kiss Eddie. You had found a real comfort in each other. You made each other laugh, kept each other company. And he couldn’t ignore the fact that you didn’t have 17 years that the rest of the town had to influence what you thought of him, which he expressed to you. The thought that maybe you were his only option ate away at you. What happened when someone else new came into town? Would he drop you when there was a shiny new toy available?

“What do you mean, there’s you and me,” he stepped closer and you didn’t shy away. Progress.

“Don’t you get it, Eddie? There is no you and me. There’s just you, and just me. We weren’t exactly friends, according to you.” It all clicked. He was such a fucking idiot.

“Oh, God,” he put his head in his hands and tried to think how he could be so stupid. “When I said- I didn’t mean- Y/N, of course we’re friends. More than friends, there’s something here, I thought it was obvious so I didn’t say it.” He felt the familiar soft touch of your fingers on his wrist, pulling them away from his face.

Eddie looked at you and instantly half of your anger dissolved.

“That made me feel really shitty, what you said,” you finally confessed to him. “I felt dismissed a-and cheap, and worst of all used.”

“I’m so sorry, I never meant to do that.” If it weren’t for the way he was tenderly holding your hand or so visibly having to hold himself back from embracing you, you would’ve thought it was a line.

“I care about you and if you want a label or a definition I will give that to you right now. You’ve been the best thing about the last six months,” he said, making the other half of your anger fly out of the window. The validation was freeing, knowing that he felt the same way that you did.

“I don’t need that, Eddie-”

“Fine, but I want it,” he said, grabbing onto your shoulders. “I’m not asking you to start over, because I don’t want to throw it all away. You’re really important to me.” You were nodding along with him, letting the words go right from his mouth to your heart.

“Eddie,” you said softly, and he stopped right away. Whatever you had to say he would absorb wholly. But you didn’t say anything at all, just leaned forward and kissed him. He whined in relief and his knees went weak, leaning back against the porch railing to support himself and you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against you. You pulled away and saw that he kept his eyes closed, but wasn’t letting go of you.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I should have just talked to you.” Eddie shook his head and finally looked into your eyes.

“Come home with me, please? I only came here to find you,” he admitted. You nodded and were going to say that you came to the party with similar intentions, even if they were subconscious, but the front door swung open before you could.

“Just checking to make sure Y/N didn’t murder you,” Robin stood in the doorway with a smile on her face, seeing you cuddled up to each other. “Come on, the night is young!” She grabbed your hand and pulled you inside. You smiled back at Eddie and he followed after you, not wanting to be without you for another second.

She’s the sweetest, the sweetest thing but I know she’s no good for me. Gonna take you home and take off your clothes, Baby, I’m nothing but bad news.

“I wish you two had never made up, you’re disgusting!” It was weeks later, and you and Eddie were more likely to be found in another country than without the big, goofy smiles that had been on your faces since you had made up and officially gotten together. At first, it was sweet, and everyone was happy that you were happy; but lately your affection was met with groans of overexposure.

Eddie pulled his face away from where it was nuzzled into your neck and glared at Steve, who had a pinched look on his face. Uncle Wayne got his hands on the half-priced groceries that were about to expire, and insisted that Eddie invite his friends over to help eat it all.

As happy as he was to see Eddie with a nice group of friends, he was even happier when you became a fixture at the trailer.

“Jealous, Harrington?” he asked, squeezing your ass through your jeans and pulling a giggle from you.

“No, I am not jealous, I am trying to keep down my lunch,” he complained, leaning back and looking away.

“It’s cute,” Max said, kicking the leg of his chair and making him falter. “Plus, it shuts him up.”

“I am going to ignore that. But, seriously, how do you expect me to keep my hands off of her? She’s so sweet,” Eddie scraped his teeth along your cheek and you pushed him away, ticklish.

“Stop,” you smiled, although you all knew you didn’t mean it.

“I’m with Steve, this is scarring,” Dustin frowned. Eddie pushed his hands up your shirt and rested them on your bare skin.

“Let me kick them out,” he begged. You didn’t, but were relieved when they left a while later. You and Eddie rushed around, cleaning up their mess so Wayne wouldn’t have to. When you were finally done and flopped down on the couch, he walked inside. You were itching, now, to touch Eddie the way he was unafraid to when your friends were around. After Wayne went into the bathroom to wash up, you pulled him close.

“Can we go to my house?” you whispered. He was going to ask why, but when you started to pull at his collar and rub your nose against his throat he understood.

“I thought you were tired?” he hummed, intently listening for the shower to shut off while you started to kiss his neck.

“Never too tired to take your clothes off,” you said, making his stomach flip.

“Baby, you’re bad news,” he took a deep breath and let you pull him up off the couch and towards the door. He called out a goodbye to his uncle before tripping over his feet after you as if you had him on a leash.

Yeah, you still freaked him out.

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