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jopzer · 7 months

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someone made the fatal mistake of indicating that they would like to see me explain why i put every song into the jamie tartt but it's just mitski playlist so. here's that. i cannot be held responsible for how unwell im about to get OR how long this will be LOL

i don’t smoke

so if you need to be mean be mean to me i can take it and put it inside of me

look at that little masochist.

starting off strong with the royjamie flavor on this one

but i don’t think it exclusively applies to rj, i think jamie’s sort of like. he is a dick he knows how to cope with people being dicks he understand it its easy to deal with. someone is a dick to me im going to be a dick back. short and sweet.

that mf is CONSTANTLY poking and prodding roy in s1 until that mf bites him. so that mf bites him. by s3 i think its less of “we are antagonizing each other as enemies” and more like. jamie voice you need to be a dick and i can take it.

if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room you can lean on my arm as you break my heart

this line specifically feels like the rj fight in the finale to me if we’re open and honest and vulnerable with one another

just don't leave me alone wondering where you are i am stronger than you give me credit for

we are all in agreement that jamie needs smothering. i think roy would be hyperaware of Not smothering him if they got into a relationship and i think jamie would feel a little bit like spongebob under the heat lamp

washing machine heart

baby will you kiss me already and toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart? baby, bang it up inside baby, though i've closed my eyes i know who you pretend i am

this is just me doing cocomelon shit to jamie tbh.

even if roy isn’t using jamie as a rebound i think maybe it would not be a stretch of imagination for jamie to Think roy is using him as a rebound

especially if contextualized with like. mom city jamie catching them holding hands in his bed and it’s keeley who pulls away not roy. delicious

nobody

and i don't want your pity i just want somebody near me guess i'm a coward i just want to feel alright

iiiii just think jamie is a sopping wet little creature. yeah he’d kick the shit out of me so so easily and he’s also a terrible asshole but have you considered he’s such a sad lonely little guy sometimes

i also do think he would feel like a coward for not wanting to be alone whether or not he would admit to that feeling

like we saw him back at city we saw him drop those mfs like a sack of potatoes we saw how desperate he was for connection when he came back to richmond

desperate for connection but also for the entirety of season one absolutely unwilling to form meaningful connections; maybe because of his dogshit Coping Mechanisms maybe because he's just on loan and knows he won't be here long maybe hes just an Asshole maybe a deadly cocktail of all of the above lol

i've been big and small and big and small and big and small again and still nobody wants me

yeah. this one feels especially violently jamie LOL

he's been hot shit. he's been richmond's best player. he's also been just one of a million top players at city. he's been the bully and he's been subject to the boys giving it back to him. he's been the center of attention he's been no one at all

and still keeley doesn't want him. roy doesn't want him. we don't really see him pursue anyone else whether or not you want to read that as rj/rjk/jk. fascinates me.

of course people want jamie we know he gets around but i'm talking Meaningful Connections here

remember my name

i need something bigger than the sky hold it in my arms and know it's mine just how many stars will i need to hang around me to finally call it heaven?

again. we see each other. jamie NEEEEEDS someone to smother him to death with love if he's not suffocating on it he doesn't want it!!

jamie surrounds himself with pretty things and pretty people and i don't think he thinks its meaningless or anything but i do think he definitely wants more and that's very evident come s3

'cause i need somebody to remember my name after all that i can do for them is done i need someone to remember me

see above point

but also. hold my hand through some willful misinterpretation of these lyrics. jamie wants to be the fucking best he wants to be a legend he wants to be listed among the greats. clearly not his sole motivation anymore during/post s3 but i do think it's still incredibly important to his character

he can't be some Guy from manchester he wants people to list "tartt" alongside pelé and maradona and what have you. i think this is critical to understanding jamie he refuses to be forgotten

cop car

i get mean when I'm nervous like a bad dog

we do dog metaphor around these parts.

but for realsies i think this is very much jamie even into s3

when he gets defensive he gets mean

like we see him definitely falter with zava, this isn't his only method of shutting down but i do think he's absolutely prone to snarling and biting when he doesn't know how to react

he gets defensive. reverts to being a dick. see: bar scene in finale

i was meant for running fast i pretended you were mine, it made me calm babe

walk with me. s3 royjamie.

or at least how jamie thinks about him if nothing else

which. you know. could help explain his lashing out at the bar.

i've loved many boys, i've loved many girls i don't think about the past, it's always there anyway

this is a cheap shot. i see a little tormented bisexual man and go is anyone gonna chew on that and then dont wait for an answer

mf does Not like dealing with his past or his traumas lol. it's always there anyway.

townie

'cause we've tried hungry and we've tried full and nothing seems enough

fuck off jamie is starving to death and he hasn't ever managed to get rid of that feeling. trust. i'm right about this.

he's fucked around and he's partied and he's done the reckless drinking and he's done the casual coke and he's done meaningful relationship but he can't get anything right.

he's been starved his whole life and he doesn't know how to fix it.

and i want a love that falls as fast as a body from the balcony, and i want a kiss like my heart is hitting the ground

we all know love and violence are inextricable for jamie. they're the same. he's still pulling those apart

i think he's very much the sort of guy who wants it fast and hard and intense and he wants to feel all consumed, wants it to feel dangerous and too much

i'm holding my breath with a baseball bat though i don't know what I'm waiting for i am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be

i think the holding my breath but i don't know why is Very applicable to jamie's whole deal.

like just in how he copes with his various traumas most of all james

which ties in very fun with the last line. like so much of his arc is that hes Not gonna be what his daddy wants him to be. he's gonna be what his body wants him to be.

i also think this is probably how jamie is in a relationship with roy or roykeeley like he's waiting for something that isnt ever going to come with them because they arent going to hurt him in a way he doesn't Want if they are together

dunno. he fascinates me.

old friend

i haven't told anyone just like we promised have you? every time i drive through the city where you're from i squeeze a little

this verse right here is so so so very royjamie to me okay

we know jamie doesn't like people Poking around in his relationships on TOP of you know. violent homophobia in football world

secret little torrid affair between the two of them. lives in my brain

abbey

i am hungry i have been hungry i was born hungry what do i need?

come onnnnnnnn

this is so jamie it makes me want to pass out

he's so fucking hungry he's always searching for something to hold onto or tear into with his teeth. jamie and hunger are like synonyms to me.

alongside the inability to name what it is he's hungry for!

incapable of admitting that it's love! it's always been love!! most especially from the people he's refusing to accept it from!!

i am something i have been something i was born something what could i be?

jamie's whole life is built on Being Somebody; he is a young, sexy, rich, famous prem player like. he is Somebody. he's Something. he's a footballer but like

who is he beyond that?

i think perhaps mr tartt would have a little bit of trouble answering that one

valentine, texas

let's step carefully into the dark once we're in, i'll remember my way around who will i be tonight? who will i become tonight?

this one may be sort of a stretch but i think jamie very much sort of molds himself to what he knows someone will like in interpersonal relationships?

like he's very head strong very loud personality but when we see him alone with keeley and we see him alone with roy and see him alone with ted they're all Such different people

which is aided by the fact theyre all sort of in different points of his character arc

but i also think he sort of cant help himself when he's alone with someone

stay soft

you stay soft, get beaten only natural to harden up

don't think i really need to explain this one we all saw the boot scene

i am face down on my bed still not quite awake yet thinking of you i tuck my hand under my weight just tell me what you want to do tell me what you want to burn away 'cause i could be your stoker

i think this could be split into two sections but i think it functions SOOO well as one it is important

yeah i'm thinking of you in the low morning light. yeah i can be what you need i can burn away parts of both of us i can make you forget

love me more

if i keep myself at home i won't make the same mistake that I made for fifteen years i could be a new girl i will be a new girl

think this line is just very indicative of jamie's whole brainspace vis a vis his improvement and development

he wants to be someone else so bad by the time s2 comes around. ugh.

here's my hand there's the itch but i'm not supposed to scratch

he seems very much the type to deny himself things

obviously not like. fun stuff. casual stuff.

but i mean like. things that will make him seem Soft. love and what have ye.

i'm not supposed to be someone who wants something i'm not supposed to slake this thirst

be it for gay reasons or otherwise btw. i'm interpreting it bisexual style but you get the idea

i need you to love me more love enough to fill me up love enough to drown it out drown it out, drown me out

i cut some repetition and stuff for brevity's sake comma but

this verse right here. this is the real jamie of the song

fill me up. drown me out. i'm too much even for me (even if i think im gods gift to football).

need to be smothered!!!!! fill me up!!!!! drown it out!!!!! the buzzing in my head and the want in my lungs i cant take it take it from me!!

how do other people live? i wonder how they keep it up? when today is finally done there's another day to come

mom city sadboy era right here

i wash my hair but i don't use conditioner because like. what's the point!!!

should've been me

relive all the ways you still want me i haven't given you what you need you wanted me but couldn't reach me i'm sorry it should've been me

this is jamiekeeley to me

clearly it still tugs at him like. the funeral confessions and inviting to her brazil and fisticuffing in the dirt

whether or not he still feels romantically about her in s3 i think he probably still feels Bad about what a shit he was in s1 specifically to keeley

idk. maybe this one's just me. think he's very very very squirmy about her and roy's relationship to start and then it melts into something Different you know? should've been me. sorry.

geyser

you're my number one you're the one i want and you've turned down every hand that has beckoned me to come you're my number one you're the one i want and I've turned down every hand that has beckoned me to come

royjamie to me.

that line in s3 where keeley says she hasnt seen/heard about jamie being with anyone in a really long time. the way we know roy also not really accepting offers is he.

yall know the fic that's like. the first time they hook up, roy pauses mid thrust to say "this is a one time thing. i'm still messed up over keeley." that sort of vibe

and ram jamming the "had a poster of you on my wall when i was a kid. used to think you were the best." and teaching him to ride a bike and gravitating toward roy all the time and absolutely panting and drooling for his attention any way he can get it its all just like. yeah. you're my number one. you're the one i want.

feel it bubbling from below hear it call, hear it call hear it call to me constantly and hear the harmony only when it's harming me it's not real, it's not real it's not real enough but i will be the one you need the way i can't be without you i will be the one you need i just can't be without you

snifflin and sobbin

all points from the last bit also apply to this bit tbh..

i will be the one you need. i just can't be without you. but theres a fucking volcano in my chest that's telling me to cut ties and run that'll burn us both. i can only understand it when it hurts.

blue light

somebody kiss me, i'm going crazy i'm walking 'round the house naked

how long's a man meant to be alone??

also. well. he does walk around the house naked doesn't he.

he wants so deeply too i think he thinks being loved could fix him. even if it's temporary. even if it doesn't matter. maybe this is why he fucks around so hard in s1 maybe this is why he's still so messed up about keeley after they break up maybe this is why he's o obsessed with roy. we'll never know but man do i think about it!

out there i'm a sharp knife

look me in the eyes and tell me this isn't what the prick signal thing is about

he is a sharp knife. he is cutting through opposing teams he's such a shit and he's efficient and useful and good at what he does

there's something smart to be said about this one specifically but my brain is feeling a little bit like mush

pink in the night

i glow pink in the night in my room i've been blossoming alone over you and i hear my heart breaking tonight i hear my heart breaking tonight do you hear it too?

i'm a big boy i can admit to this being self indulgent

royjamie innit tho

just love the flavor of jamie thinking its unrequited and hes a freak weirdo for being into roy (his ex's ex, his frenemy, his coach, the guy who's gone out of his way again ans again and again to make sure jamie is okay even when he does it with a headbutt and all grumbily and jamie is making it Weird by getting one ounce of affection and love and falling in love) (roy is thinking the same thing but opposite. trust.)

i could stare at your back all day i could stare at your back all day and i know i've kissed you before, but i didn't do it right can i try again, try again, try again

see this bit could actually be jamiekeeley

i never stopped pining. i know i fucked up. please can i try again try again try again i'm better i know how to love you now.

when you combine these two verses you get rjk. trust.

but i can also very much see rj going from a weird fwb thing to a relationship or at least jamie pining over him so much it makes him sick and pretending those kisses are Something. do you get me. you get me.

once more to see you

in the rearview mirror, i saw the setting sun on your neck and felt the taste of you bubble up inside me but with everybody watching us, our every move we do have reputations we keep it secret won't let them have it

SHUT UP!!!!!! ROYJAMIE ANTHEM SHUT UP!!!!!!!

shut up. are you kidding me.

not only do we know jamie is incredibly cagey about people shoving their fingers into his (personal?) love life, we know that this would be Their secret maybe always, maybe to start, no one on this big blue ball would explicitly Know about them

people guess and they guess right but this relationship is sacred its secret its Theirs

they have reputations, after all

and letting people know is opening them both up to a whole world of horrible no good very bad shit storm and and and

aguhuguhaughagaguayga

so come inside and be with me, alone with me alone, with me alone if you would let me give you pinky promise kisses then i wouldn't have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart

ok this imagery just kinda makes me nauseous move along

thursday girl

glory, glory, glory to the night that shows me what I am as i go to the party on my knees saying take it oh please

party girl isnt he

think we could talk about that as a persona/way to cope but. that might be making things a little deeper than they are. i might be in too deep about mr tartt

and tell me no tell me no tell me no tell me no somebody please tell me no

this however is not me in too deep this is just real

on hand and knee begging someone to tell him no. sometimes it's ted most of the time it's roy. what are you gonna do

a loving feeling

what do you do with a loving feeling if the loving feeling makes you all alone? what do you do with a loving feeling if they only love you when you're all alone?

can we talk about royjamie i've been dying to talk about royjamie

really into the image of jamie pining and being sooo fucking angry about it. how did i get here this is BULLSHIT!!!

i think there is an understanding that they Can't be public even if they Are in a relationship and jamie doesn't even necessarily Want people to know about them but he is fucking punching a wall about it in the privacy of his own home

^ that bit is for the last line ONLY. separate thoughts, making you all alone and loving all alone

i think this could also very very easily be rjk with the trope we all know and love: rk as an established couple and jamie knowing he's just a third to spice things up for them. whether or not he actually is is between you and your maker.

holding hands under a table meeting up in your bedroom making love to other people telling each other it's all good kisses like pink cotton candy talking to everyone but me i'm stayin' on later just in case you come up and ask to leave with me

sorry you want me to believe this is not rj? you want me to believe in my heart of hearts this isn't exactly where they start? i don't believe you. you are lying to yourself and to me.

first love/late spring

wild women don't get the blues but I find that lately i've been crying like a tall child

you saw mom city. you get it.

one word from you and i would jump off of this ledge i'm on baby tell me "don't" so i can crawl back in

he's a good listener by s3 aint he

i just think its interesting who he's listening to. okay

and i was so young when i behaved twenty five yet now i find i've grown into a tall child

i think jamie definitely had to fend for himself a lot as a youngin as the only child of a single mom who was clearly struggling

everyone is always (rightly) calling him a child in s1 but have they considered he's just a 23 y/o teenage girl

i think the "such a child." line from roy uhhh really struck him please look at his face after roy says this. i'm not even making this a royjamie verse but clearly that struck him in some sort of way

to have your childhood hero look you in the eye and belittle you so clearly and concisely in a way that very clearly stung

i dunno. fascinates me. fascinating little creature that jamie tartt.

goodbye, my danish sweetheart

there's nobody better than you it took me a while 'til i knew but you knew from the start it was us, didn't you? it just took me a while 'til i knew

jamiekeeley w, this song.

i think it's also a very rose colored glasses way to view rj

which you know what. makes it a very good rjk song doesnt it.

so, i don't blame you if you want to bury me in your memory i'm not the girl i ought to be, but maybe when you tell your friends you can tell them what you saw in me and not how i turned out to be

pure unadulterated jamiekeeley right here.

i fucked it up. i'm not who i'm supposed to be. i'm not who i was supposed to be for you. but maybe when you tell people about me and about us you can tell them who you wanted me to be because he's better than who i am.

ugh.

there's some kind of burning inside me it's kept me from falling apart and i'm sure that you've seen what it's done to my heart but it's kept me from falling apart

this is so so so so so so jamie. come ON.

there is a fire in him and he doesn't really know how to field it or when to fan it and its burning through him in s1/most of s2.

it's launched him into being one of the best in his sport but it's also ruining the good things around him

little idiot does NOT understand human connection in s1. love him bad.

you're a battler, jamie.

now here i lay as i wonder about you would you just tell me what i'm meant to do? 'cause i've waited and watered my heart 'til it grew you can see how it's blossomed for you

you know who's really really good at telling jamie what to do.

and i don't mean to make your heart blue but could we be what we're meant to be? i'm just about to beg you, please and then, when you tell your friends you can tell them what you saw in me and not the way i used to be

back to jk with this one. i personally believe it's very rjk but it's textually very jk.

i'm better than i was. please believe in me. lets try again and lets be better than we were i know how to love you now.

humpty

i broke our belongings they're all on the floor the room is now empty nothing left to throw all the eggshells are on the ground and i try, i'm trying to pick them up but they crack and crumble, it's all too much too frail for me to touch

idk if i can really justify this one much outside of my own head it's just real okay.

i think jamie knows he chronically fucked up with keeley. i think he also knows he can and will lash out with very little provocation.

he's trying to pick up what he fucked up (think early s2) but it's a fucking nightmare and he's gonna have to slog around with tweezers to pick up the pieces of what he fucked

i'm realizing this song is very roy also but of course it is they're the same guy as much as they are fundamentally different

i broke what you gave me but you kept giving more and I'm sorry for taking but I keep wanting more, more, more

see all above points and ttb for my thoughts about the black hole in jamie tartt's chest

shame

i never was very good i haven't been so good but right outside the door nobody knows they're right outside the door and they don't know how it feels so good it feels so good

right outside the door everyone knows. they know it.

i think this ones sort of up to interpretation

idk. is it sexy? is it the ache in him in knowing how awful he was for so long? is it both and neither?

my brain is turning to mush i think. too much jamie in the diet

class of 2013

mom, i'm tired can i sleep in your house tonight? mom, is it alright if i stay for a year or two?

listen. jamie does not have this brand of mommy issues. i'll own up to that.

i hear the word "mom" and enter a fugue state thinking about mom city

this one's just for me it doesn't have to make sense

liquid smooth

i'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too and feel my skin is plump and full of life i'm in my prime i'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too i'm at my highest peak, i'm ripe about to fall, capture me or at least take my picture kuzurete yuku maeni i'm pulsing, my blood is red and unafraid of living beginning to end

c'mon.

he is a fine young thing. and sneaking in the "before i fall apart?" yeah. real.

jamie thesis. i'm young and sexy i'm in my fucking PRIME touch me take a picture of me remember me remember me i'm holding on by the skin of my teeth. don't look too hard because i might start to crumble in your hands.

brand new city

i think my fate is losing its patience i think the ground is pulling me down i think my life is losing momentum i think my ways are wearing me down

i think you could narrow this moment of his down to mom city where he is just so Lost.

but i think more appropriately you could absolutely name his whole arc in late s1/early s2

this stupid life i stupid lead is causing everything to crash down around me but i don't know how else to live or act or behave

i'm jamie fucking tartt!!

but if i gave up on being pretty, i wouldn't know how to be alive

i just think this is him don't mind me

like obviously he's more than his pretty he is jamie fucking tartt and he's a shooting star at what he does. yeah, i work hard. but.

i also think being pretty and being desired is his like. number two personality trait

or at least thats what he wants us to see him as. you know??

eric

you like control, well, i do too take off my clothes and watch me move you can come closer, i'll let you hurt me how you choose

well. we've all seen how roy and jamie interact with one another haven't we.

but how long, how long can we play this way i'm tired, i'm tired of not loving you my heart, my heart wants to hold you but i know, i know, i know the rules blue light, dark room, the white of your teeth as you smile at my trembling shoulders but your skin, did you notice your skin it cries a soft weep like mine i'll sell, i'll sell my heart to you what's my, what's my, what's my price? how 'bout, how 'bout just a part of you? 'cause i want, i want, i want, i want i want, i want, i want, i want, i want

i really did try to narrow this down and not include almost uhhhh the whole rest of the song but good GOD. royjamie anthem.

jamie wants SOOOO BADLY!!!!!! but has almost certainly convinced himself it's just sex with roy!!! doesnt matter if roy is tits over tail obsessed with him (canonical) or if it actually just IS rebound sex.

this is real to me. sorry. royjamie anthem.

he wants.

door

i looked out at the dark and wondered how could I have lost it? a hopeless violence i named it love

so. i did not want to include an entire song twice in a row but this song very much tells a story you kinda gotta listen to the whole thing to get the picture

but

i think this one is VERY jamiecore.

denying himself this integral part of himself as both like. a man living in a very masculine sphere of the world on top of being a victim of abuse that canonically leans in on his masculinity

swearing to be so tough his dad could never call him soft again??

and also jamie's whole like. proximity to love and violence and presentation and consumption

idk if this is making any sense but god it IS real.

i lost this part of me and this part was love and real human connection and it is a gnawing biting clawing thing i need to love and be loved in a way that scares me and most often with teeth tearing into me. augh.

real men

real men don't need other people, and real men suck it in real men don't flinch or bleed in public oh, i think i'm a real man

look at me in my eyes and tell me this isn't Exactly jamie's thought process in s1. arguably even through his character arc to the end.

though honestly, sir all i wanna do is get naked in front of you so you can look me up and down and give me your love for being so good but little boys hold me, color me praise me, make me feel lovely for a little while so little boy, say you want me 'cause, well, i can't take it go ahead do it, do it

sorry. you want Me? a royjamie? to be normal about these verses?

especially when jamie's whole thing is fucking. making himself desirable and putting on a show. peacocking is his #1 favorite activity of all time.

and roy's whole thing is. well. roy's whole thing. watching him with his eyes glued to the little fuck even when he's sucking his teeth so so so angrily and spitting mad

i just think jamie loves an audience whether or not its good for him and roy can't do anything but watch. they're trapped. sisyphiean in nature aint it.

#beebles #jamie tartt #ted lasso #royjamie #royjamiekeeley #jamiekeeley #those ones are on a technicality but i think probably important to tag #disclaimer: this is for fun #also if anyone has thoughts or additions or anything for the love of god hmu #im so so crazy rabid insane about mr tartt #um this was very fun actually.#havent done this since i did it for all my terror playlists i forget how fun it is every time

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shamelesslymkp · 3 months

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@mayakern OK so I have a PLAN to write a nice and helpful review of your skirts, but I honestly have no idea if I'll actually be able to follow through anytime soon or if it'll just languish in my head for the rest of time, so this is a PLACEHOLDER nice and helpful review that just says HER SKIRTS ARE V. NICE, IF PLUS SIZE AND ON FENCE HIGHLY RECOMMEND DO BUY

#this is in fact me tricking myself into writing a helpful review #by putting the stuff in the tags #these skirts are a+++#i'd been looking at the sunflowers skirt longingly for months #and then it was on sale and i was everything is terrible i want cheerful sunflowers #and i got it #wore it #and immediately ran into the problem of wanting to wear it every day #(side note i now have purchased three additional skirts)#for the texture-sensitive people such as myself! important info:#material feels like bamboo cotton like you can get in sheets #so if you don't know what that feels like and if it's an ok texture you can go to a store that sells bed linens and find a sample #n.b. it's not exactly the same probably but it feels close enough for me #and i am . notoriously picky about textures #the skirts are full enough that even though the material is soft and light #it hangs heavily enough to not show off anything you're wearing underneath #and disguises that you've got stuff in your pockets #even if your pockets are FULL #(and these are BIG POCKETS)#the sizes overlap - I got the larger size of the ones i fit into #and i like the fit but did find that my pockets will start pulling them down a bit #which is less of a problem if both pockets are full #and more of a problem if it's just one pocket #so i have now ordered the size down as well #anyways yes highly recommend #yes expensive but also! not actually THAT expensive!#because this stuff is quality??#like i buy shit from torrid which is somewhat cheaper #but also will start falling apart within six months if not sooner #and i can tell that when it arrives because of the stitching etc

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bitimdrake · 2 years

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tried to find your opinion on this by searching young justice show but couldn't find anything so anyways what's your opinion on the show if you've seen it?

I personally love it as an elseword story (idk if I'm using that right) and think it was very creative and well done. I don't really like how Linda was left out but oh well you win some you lose some. (Also hate Cass backstory change so much ughhhhh)

I don't think I've talked about it before! Honestly, I don't think about the show much. I watched uhh three and a half seasons maybe? And then just kind of slipped off it. (I literally don't remember if I watched the episodes with Cass or just heard about them, so I won't comment there.)

I think it's valuable to judge these things both as adaptations and as independent pieces of fiction, so:

as an adaptation

YJTV is not a faithful adaption of the comics universe, but it never purported to be. Dubbing it an Elseworld seems spot on to me. It takes a lot of elements and characters from the original, but thoroughly remixed in a show that is a new story at its core--centering on a team that never existed in comics. And that's fine!

I would have preferred they called the show something else. It's really not a young justice adaptation, and that’s just confused branding. But that's a minor point.

It does bug me the way they utterly changed some characters. Like, why chose to "adapt" comics villain Artemis Crock just to make her a hero with supervillain parents instead of, you know, adapting any of the existing teen heroes who already fit that story? Why "adapt" Cheshire just to make her central story about a family she's never even been related to in comics? Why "adapt" Superboy to make him grumpy angry boy with angst over being unable to fly?

Just. I will never ever understand adaptations using characters in name only. Who is that for?? It means nothing to people who don't know the character already, and it's a disappointment to people who do. You can just make an OC! You're allowed to do that in your new show!

That said, the only thing about YJ as an adaptation that I truly, utterly resent it for is the dynamic with Conner and Clark that has since polluted every fan space, I hate it, the end.

Otherwise, as an adaptation, it's fine! I got some issues with it, but I think it's perfectly legitimate to make an elseworlds type thing with its own narrative identity rather than a strict adaptation.

as a show

i think it sucks. Sorry.

I should say, the first season was solid. With a limited focus on a team of six-ish, it did really well. Good character and team building, good plot work, just generally enjoyable. I liked it a lot!

And then it went off the rails. I am hardly the first person to say it but: this show has too many characters. And imo that problem is so pronounced that it’s not a flaw in an otherwise good show, but completely destroys the whole thing. It has way too many characters. It’s not even in the realm of the right number of characters. And, iirc, it's worse and worse every season.

The other huge flaw in the show became really obvious to me in season...3 I think? And that is absolutely baffling decisions on what to tell and what to show.

This is tied into the too many characters thing--there simply isn’t enough time to show even half of what needs to be shown. But I also remember regularly wondering why on earth one event was deemed irrelevant enough to be a brief slideshow-with-narration sequence, or even glossed over in one line of dialogue, while something seemingly way less important would be played out on screen.

Huge character and relationship development? Eh, throw it in the time skip and reference it later. Key progression that would have gotten the audience invested in a dynamic? Idk say it happened off screen and assume viewers will fill in the blanks themselves. Super cool event where the characters made major plot progression? Just reference it in dialogue so we can jump ahead to this other scene that the creators actually care about.

I just. I couldn’t do it. I’m willing to give leeway to a show and fill in gaps, but I can’t handle being expected to wholesale create attachment to characters and relationships and plotlines and twists all on my own, while the show puts no work into it.

The thing about this show being an adaptation--and I almost put it in the above section--is that it wants all the benefits of being a unique story and all the benefits of being comics-based, and that just doesn’t work. This show expects everyone to have knowledge across the entire DC universe just to watch it, and lazily falls back on that rather than explain things or introduce characters itself. (And I’m saying this as a dedicated comics reader!!!) And it also expects you to read that show-specific tie-in comic, or look up the backstory for this event, or read that one blog post from that one guy that totally explains the important thing that they never bothered to give any time to on the show.

If I were going to try to boil the problems with this show down to one thing, I would say this:

YJTV wants to be its own, unique, massive, sprawling superhero universe, but it’s a fucking half-hour TV show. And there is no stretch of the imagination in which that works.

#*#ask #anon #*dc #dc #yjtv #take two of trying to write this without tumblr erasing it all ughhh #for the sake of keeping this post focused i'm dropping misc examples in the tags:#(1)#so many characters being barely introduced or not introduced at all #(most of the s2 additions but even going back to rocket in s1)#but then the show expecting you to still care about and invest in them as if they were treated like real characters #(2) basically every single important development and event in the conner/mgann relationship after s1 happening?? off screen????#(3) a scene i cannot remember the details of (at the end of a season i think) that is supposed to be a big victorious moment-#showing how well connected and respected nightwing is and what a good leader he is #except the show literally never did anything to build to it or show it or even make that a real part of dick's character #they just expect you to project it over from comics #(4) every vague reference to jason todd where you're required to already know the story to glean anything from it #(5) some line of dialogue where bart (?) offhandedly references a funeral for a character and i had to literally rewind-#to realize that he was talking about a side side character who was never on the show and no one without additional comics knowledge would kn #*know #but they still thought just dropping funeral without explanation was a good writing choice somehow #(6) oh!! speaking of the terrible i hate it thing they did to clark and conner!!#having conner spend all s1 angsting over wanting clark to be his dad and then at the start of s2 be like #wow we're brothers now and it's great! this off screen development was totally fulfilling and meaningful! don't worry about seeing it!#(i mean no wonder people who ONLY watched yjtv think them being brothers is disappointing. it was in the show.)#(but yes i still resent the show for pushing the father/son thing in the first place because them being brothers is great actually)#(and how dare you do clark like that. he doesn't deserve it.)#ok so maybe i should have put this in the post because that's a lot #whatever i leave it to the judgement of peer review

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electrosquash · 1 year

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Sometimes i tend to be quite bossy at work. But also i'm right. I have a VERY specific model of how to structure our documentation in my mind and i can't have ANY divergence and i WILL argue for it because i honestly believe it's the best path forward.

#personal #so far all discussions we had about it always ended up with my version but they all took several hours until i had everyone convinced #a few years ago i would have said that's just my manipulative traits coming through #but fuck that. i can have a personality without everything immediately being a bpd trait!!!#i used to think breathing in someones presence is manipulation bc i'm manipulating them to be aware of me lol.#so i thought i wasn't bossy but very timid which i was expected to be. and everytime i wasn't being timid it was my disorder.#this didn't come from nowhere btw. therapists made me believe i'm manipulative. so that i need more therapy. been through dbt 3x #i just have some personality traits i'm not supposed to have as a woman lol. in addition to other bpd things that i do agree with #but once you got that diagnosis every single aspect of your personality is either conforming to gender or deviant and therefore disordered #sometimes it feels like there's a *pd-industrial-complex lmao. see the diagnosis mill that is society's dissertation requirements #fuck this shit. i have a personality and parts of it aren't conductive to wellbeing; maybe even some more than most people #and i compensate for that by thinking everything twice. and i think i'm doing a pretty good job being a generally pleasant person!#so much for no cringe posts. but it's a pretty important discovery for me that i can be bossy (affectionate) w/o anything further attached #bossy = dominant; outspoken; willing to argue for their point. not giving anyone orders lol but i'm not editing all the tags here

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tolkpopfan · 7 days

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…

#just a comment on some things…#so if you don’t want to hear a few thoughts on politics maybe don’t read these tags #but I am really tired of seeing people saying not to vote #I get it #you hate both options #and that’s entirely valid #but local elections are still extremely important #and everyone seems to forget that although republican vs democrat are the only options that consistently have a chance of winning #they aren’t the only options #it makes much more of a political statement to vote for a smaller party than it does to not vote at all #it’s about doing civic duty #it’s about actually participating in democracy #the system in the U.S. is highly flawed #but if you don’t vote #it can potentially send the message that democracy is not worth the effort in the first place #and in addition #with the Biden versus Trump thing #Biden has done horrible things #yes #but he’s influenceable #and for that reason #I still think he’s a better option than the man that sticks his fingers in his ears and says lalalalala every time someone disagrees #yes I understand there are fascist things going on on both sides #but we shouldn’t pretend that both options are the same #it shouldn’t have to be bad vs worse #but in America we unfortunately don’t have much of a choice #so it’s still important to make due with what we have #and to choose candidates that will listen to public opinion even if their own opinions and perspectives are shit

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needlekind · 1 year

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filterable picrew database!

original post updated march 7 2024

hey pals!! i'm working on a filterable, tagged collection of picrew i like. right now there's over 100 picrew (and other such makers such as those from neka or meiker) in there with tags for things like fashion, hair options, skin colors, specific features like horns or headscarves, and body types. you can search for multiple tags at a time and filter out tags you don't want. the whole thing is organized in a big grid of sample results from the picrew in question, so you can see the style at a glance and click it for more images and the url, but you can change the view and organization system however you like.

the link is here!!! feel free to share this wherever. i'm still going through my folders and adding more makers, so expect lots of updates real soon.

i'm hoping this makes it easier for people to find picrew that suit them and their characters, especially in cases where it's unfortunately harder to find certain features like dark skin options and fat bodies.

really important notes:

i do not take requests for additional tags. sorry!! please understand that every time i want to use a new tag, i have to manually go into every maker in the entire backlog and check to see if they have it. it's a pain! it takes a while! there's only one of me! the only circumstance under which i'm willing to add a new tag is if you're willing to go through the backlog and link me every picrew that needs the tag, and i can use it going forward.

if something is tagged wrong, i need to know which maker it is so i can fix it. you need to tell me! the most useful way to send me a specific picrew is a direct link, or the artist name (which will be the title when you click into the item in the database). sometimes i get vague comments like "there are makers in x tag that don't fit" and no one EVER follows up with which ones they are so i can't FIX IT.

one big thing that you can do to help me with this database is take one of the links on my tba page and tell me what tags apply to it. literally just one! enough folks see and use this resource that just a few people taking one takes a load off my plate.

💖🍵 if this resource has been useful for you, consider sending me a tip on ko-fi!!

have fun!!!! i hope this is helpful for people!!!

#picrew #dollmaker #doll maker

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anamelessfool · 21 days

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I visited the "Ministry" today. Took a few photos of my favorite details.

Thanks for enjoying my photos. Please do not include the location in tags or comments. Thanks.

Some unique hallways (every hallway was different)

And my favorite stained glass windows

If you ever go, sign in at the front and be nice. We said to the office staff that we were in the area (going to the nearby botanical garden) love Ghost the band as well as stained glass. We walked around very quietly. We were the only ones there. Remember that this is the final resting place of someone's loved one. There were fairly recent additions so this continues to be an important site.

I really love that people in this fandom greatly appreciate fine art, history, and architecture.

#ghost fandom #ministry building #the band ghost

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nwjws · 10 days

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WAIT FOR YOU TO LIKE ME AGAIN - LSH

; SYNOPSIS - whether it be in the middle of the halls or during his election speech, heeseung's never passed up an opportunity to ask you out on a date. although you've always said no, that hasn't stopped the boy from trying again anyway - at least until senior year, when he suddenly stopped pursuing you, to your (and everyone's) bewilderment.

; PAIRING - heeseung x fem!reader

; TAGS - one-shot, fluff, slice of life, highschool au, stuco president!heeseung, vice president!reader, one-sided enemies to lovers ; WARNINGS - angst, mild swearing, light mentions of an abusive ex (not hee's or reader's)

; WC - 11.7k (including the bonus at the end)

; PLAYLIST ► blue butterflies (JIHN) ► line without a hook (ricky montgomery) ► making the bed (olivia rodrigo) ► comfort crowd (conan gray) ► love. (wave to earth)

; AUTHOR'S CORNER ! first fic after hiatus omg. also half the things in this fic rlly happened and the other half were google searches guess which ones are which 😝 i planned to post this on the 17th but i finished it just now and my brain is fried so here we goooo

you hated lee heeseung.

throughout the three years you've known him, he's been always the bane of your existence. the boy was constantly bugging you and pulling a new stunt to show off and get your attention. all of this just to ask you out on a date - something he's been doing practically every week since the age of fourteen.

seriously, after a hundred 'no's you'd think he'd learn to back off. and yet, he was still persistent in pursuing you.

at least, until your final year began.

see, you two had been competing against each other for the position of student council president at the end of last year. unfortunately for you, he was immensely popular; an actual threat. on top of being the captain for boys' volleyball team, he was class rep. and actively helped out teachers after school. students and teachers alike were drawn in by his hardworking yet casual nature and how easily he talked to others. despite the busy campaigns and rivalry, he still managed to somehow find time to ask you out, ending his final speech with, "and aren't all these qualities worthy of at least one date?"

of course he'd still find a way to make such an important event about asking you out. whoops and cheers echoed the hall, with almost everyone looking at you. everyone knew your history, with half the school on his side, cheering him on and urging you to say yes.

thankfully, the other half of the student body understood that no means no, and were more sympathetic towards you. after all, it's not like you were disliked or anything - you were as well known as h*es*ung.

you yourself had led the school to win several math competitions over the years, and tutored over ten students in your highschool career (get that money girl!). in addition, you were already on the council as the treasurer.

yet, it was his last sentence that one the people over and he'd been chosen as the president, with you as vice.

"just say yes. one date won't hurt," ningning had chuckled when you complained again, once she'd come back from her summer camp.

"my pride and reputation of always saying no will be."

"maybe he'll back off if you do?"

"no number of rejections has stopped him, how would a 'yes' do that?"

"maybe he'll realise you're absolutely undateable," she laughed at you, which had you throwing a pillow at her in retaliation.

you scowled at her before pulling out your phone and finding heeseung's instagram.

"thanks for meeting with us today, i'm sure you guys are excited to go home. first days are always tough." and with that, heeseung closed up the first meeting of the year.

conversation and the screeching of chairs filled the room as everyone began to pack up and leave, bidding goodbye to each other. as president and vice president, you and heeseung were left behind to clean up after the others and sort out other documents and such.

you half-heartedly expected another question of a date from him as you threw away the paper cups and teabags, but it never came.

instead, all he said was, "good job today."

you turned to look at him, with his bag slung over one shoulder and a hand stuffed into his pocket. he gave you a tight smile and left the room after that, reminding you to lock up before you left.

a little disconcerted, you continued the last few tasks while mumbling to yourself, "that ass, making me clean up and not..." you didn't finish that thought. it almost sounded like you wanted him to ask you out on another date. you thought he would though - he always did, but the first day of school passed without incident.

well, it's only the first day. he'll definitely ask you out tomorrow, or later this week. he's never missed a chance to do so during first week of school.

he hasn't asked you out at all. not in the first week, nor the second, or the third.

a whole month had gone by, and all you'd heard from heeseung was student council-related stuff. he hadn't even talked to you outside of meetings.

"did you two fight, or something?" ningning asked you curiously.

"i dunno?" you reply truthfully. you really weren't sure if what was going on between you was a fight or just a change in dynamics. it was confusing.

the rest of the school noticed too; the halls whispered when you passed by, wary and concerned looks thrown your way. someone even asked off handedly in conversation: 'are you two secretly dating, then?' everyone was walking on eggshells around you two.

"well, i guess you can rest now."

"huh?"

"you said you wanted him to stop, didn't you?" ningning raised an eyebrow at you. "who knows how many times you've complained about it to me in the past. it's made up like, half of our conversations in all our years of friendship."

"oh, right."

ningning tilted her head curiously at you. "what's with the disappointed tone?"

"what tone?" you rolled your eyes. "this is perfect! i can finally concentrate on my work without having to be afraid that i'll be distracted by heeseung trying to get me to date him again." after a moment, ningning hummed in agreement.

"and! those girls can stop giving me death glares. i mean - i've already seen so many triumphant looks from them, as if they've already got him in the bag."

"uh-huh," she said sceptically.

"they'd definitely say yes if he asked them out. unlike me. he can actually go and date for once, instead of embarrassing himself with me."

"riiiight."

"good. that's good! maybe he'll have a girlfriend by next week. and-"

"okay! i get it, i get it," ningning burst out laughing. "i've never seen you overthink about heeseung this much."

"i can't help it! what would you think if some guy who's been obnoxiously pining over you for years consistently suddenly stopped out of nowhere?"

"hmm... i'd hang out with him, break my leg, therefore obliging him to bring me to the hospital, manipulate him to visit me every day as i recover, be overbearing as hell so that he'd realise he doesn't want me anymore, and poof! he's gone."

you stared at your (possibly insane) best friend (how is she your best friend?!) in alarm.

"...i think it's time for another visit to the psych ward."

"hey!"

you two laughed yourself to stitches. she might be crazy, but she definitely got your mind off heeseung, if only for a little bit.

"you guys don't like sports, do you?"

everyone in the council shook their head.

"well, luckily for you, the student council members aren't be required to participate in sports day. we're only expected to volunteer and help the teachers."

you and the others cheered, relieved you wouldn't have to run yourself to death in the cold wind like last year. you might have been gifted in almost any skill and hobby you picked up, but sports was an exception.

"make sure you do help out, as i'll be taking note of who does what." then, heeseung said in a whisper, as if sharing a secret (who in this room he's hiding it from, you don't know), "and we'll hold a little party here. just us members." that definitely got everyone murmuring excitedly.

in the two previous years you've been in the student council, you've never seen one so lively and reactive to their president. you hate to admit it, but you too could feel your mood lighten up with them whenever heeseung was leading another meeting.

not to mention, he listened intently to the others' concerns, always suggested good solutions, and greeted everyone who entered with a cup of tea. he was a lot more considerate than you'd expected.

see, you hadn't really shared that many classes before. and the one or two you ever did, you avoided him at all costs so you never actually noticed him properly until it was forced right in front of your face.

"on another note, we'd like to take in suggestions for places to visit for an upcoming school trip," you started, garnering their attention.

as you began your part of the meeting, you could feel heeseung's intense stare, but every time you looked at him, he'd turn away.

it was a little frustrating, and you didn't know why. you couldn't figure out why you felt a little more upset every time he'd look somewhere else. was he ignoring you? but, this was a totally normal thing to do, right? so it's not like you could just ask him 'hey, why do you always ignore me when i look at you?', you'd look stupid.

when the meeting ended and everyone else had left, the awkward tension between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"make sure to lock up before you go-"

"did i do something wrong?"

heeseung stared at you, mouth frozen from being cut off mid-sentence.

"what? no. why?"

"i just- well, you-" you stuttered, unsure how to answer. "i guess, i'm not used to you not..."

"to me not asking you to be my girlfriend?" he laughed, but there was an odd lack of humour.

you shrunk into yourself. you should have just kept your mouth shut, now you sounded self-centered.

"nevermind," you huffed.

"i'm just doing what you asked. after the date, remember?" he left before you could say anything else.

after he'd gone, you couldn't even hear the silence he left behind - not when your thoughts rang in your ears. shame, embarrassment, rage. you hated him, heeseung.

but most of all, you hated yourself.

you avoided heeseung at all costs after that incident, at least, whenever you could.

previously, with the lack of interactions you two had, you felt like you barely ever saw him. but now that there was this weird air of tension between you, seeing him at three times a week after school for student council activities suddenly felt too often. every time you were alone with him, you were sure you were as red as a tomato; you developed a habit of letting your hair hide your red ears and hide your face.

when sports day inevitably came, you took over his responsibilities, seeing as he was still a part of the volleyball team. that made him the only one in the student council to join any sports activity, whereas the rest of you relaxed. (the privilege was all thanks to heeseung, who advocated for your guys' exemption from activities after everyone had complained, in return for volunteer work.)

"you haven't gone to the volleyball games yet?" soobin, the treasurer, asked.

"no. i planned out a route to visit all the activities, and the courts happened to be last."

he raised a sceptical eyebrow at you.

"really. it's not because you're trying to steer clear of our dear president or something?"

you cringed. "keep your nose out of our business."

"well, if it's affecting student council activities, isn't it our business too?"

"maybe, but i think your priority should be helping out mrs. shin over there," you pointed to the teacher walking across the field, carrying a bunch of equipment by herself. "'looks pretty heavy, it would look bad if our volunteer wasn't doing his work, now would it?"

soobin gave you a dirty look before leaving to help out, but not before bidding you "good luck!"

when you finally made it to the volleyball courts, you spotted him immediately.

he'd done a spike, the slap echoing so loud that it drew the attention of other students passing by. paired with the sound of feet skidding against the ground and the thumps of balls making contact with skin, you decided that you hated the courts. it felt like walking into a battle zone - always fearing you'll get hit by a ball when you're not looking. once, ningning got hit in the face by a baseball and her eye had actually been pushed inwards into her socket. of course, that wasn't on a court, but you weren't taking your chances.

unfortunately, you still had to make sure everything was going smoothly and take note of how many more rounds were left.

"excuse me! students who aren't playing aren't allowed to step into the courts," the teacher yelled at you from the other side.

"sorry, but i have to check on you guys, i'm part of the student council," you explained as you crept closer.

"but-"

"my bad, mr. jeon. i forgot to tell you to expect our vice president to come around eventually, since she's taking over my duties for the day," heeseung said as came jogging up to you two.

"ah, really? was volleyball taking up your time? you should have told me! i wouldn't want this to get in the way of your work."

"no, it's okay. i wanted to play, and she's very reliable," he gestured to you.

"if you say so."

"right," you started, finally looking at heeseung for the first time that day. you nodded your thanks to him, to which he gave a quick thumbs up to before rejoining the game.

"how many sets are left?" you asked mr. jeon, pulling out your pen to note down on your clipboard.

"two. this is our final game of the day."

"great! who won for the girl's team earlier today? i'm sorry i couldn't come earlier. i thought it might be best to come later in the day so i could get all the results at once."

"don't worry about it. the boys' games are always more interesting anyway - in the sense that it's a little more dramatic, what with all the force they put in their hits."

right at that moment, the resounding boom of the ball hitting a wall interrupted you two. geez, were these guys playing with a ball or setting off canons? why men are so aggressive, you'll never understand.

"perfect timing," mr. jeon chuckled. "well anyway, the U-16 girls won the first game, but the U-19 team won the second-"

you should have minded the ongoing game. it was the number one rule when you were on a court, but you foolishly got distracted with mr. jeon's own clipboard. of course, the moment you let your guard down, the ball flew your way, right when you were shifting your stance and was therefore a little more unstable than usual.

the volleyball hit you right in the chest, and had you falling to the ground. by instinct, you tried to catch yourself - but instead of your palms reaching out backwards to save you, it was your elbows that hit the ground.

"fuck!" you cried at the pain that seared through your arm.

"oh my god, are you alright?" the team suddenly ran up to you, with mr. jeon himself trying to help you up.

"i'm so sorry! i didn't mean to." one of the team members apologised.

"watch it next time," heeseung's stern voice came, but you were more focused on trying to minimise the pain as much as possible.

"where does it hurt? your elbow? can you try moving it for me?"

you did as mr. jeon instructed, but underestimated how much it would hurt.

"oh, that popping sound does not sound normal," heeseung commented.

"heeseung, take her to the infirmary."

he nodded and grabbed your unaffected elbow, asking if it was okay. you nodded and followed him as he started leading the way to the school nurse.

"does it still hurt?"

"if i move it, yeah."

"sorry about that."

"it's fine. it happens." a quick silence followed.

"well, you should go to the doctor later. the nurse probably won't do much, maybe just hand you an ice pack or something else useless," he joked. you laughed.

"yeah. she never really does much, does she? all those years of school just to hand us ice packs for a broken bone or twisted ankle."

"right! even the PE department is better equipped for more serious injuries."

"mhm."

another bout of silence. you were going to go crazy, either from the awkwardness of it all or the immense pain in your right arm. you looked at heeseung's back, and the sweat on his skin, soaking his shirt.

"hey, you can go back if you want to," you told him suddenly. "i can walk myself to the infirmary, it's not like i hurt my leg or anything."

"i know, but i'd feel more at ease if i saw you there myself. you're my vice president, of course i'm concerned."

well, you didn't know how to feel about that. you've been downgraded from his crush to coworker, but he still cares for you. so maybe that was a plus?

"i see."

as expected, you were given a cold pack for your elbow and sent to the local hospital. luckily, it was only a ten minute drive and the nurse accompanied you as a staff member drove you two there. heeseung watched you get in the car and leave, going back to his game.

the next time you went to school (two days later), your right arm was in a sling and you pretended like that wasn’t just the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“you’re ambidextrous?” heeseung whispered to you while everyone else was focused on the movie projected.

the council had waited for you to return before they held their (secret) party, since it just felt wrong to hold one when their vice president was suffering in pain and away. up until now, heeseung had only known you used your right hand from all those meetings.

he'd been paying attention to that?

“i’m a better writer with my right.”

“but you can still write well with your left,” he said, impressed. “you really are amazing”

you stared at him, the look of awe on his face, and the slight smile of his mouth. you really had no idea what to say, flustered by his comment.

then he seemed to realise what he was doing, and quickly turned to back to the movie.

“my mom wanted a left-handed daughter, and would always switch the pencil to my left hand when i was younger,” you told him. you had the sudden urge to spill a bit more of your life to him.

“ah, really?” he replied, still looking the other way.

“yeah, but at that point i was already used to my right. i ended up being able to write with both hands though.”

“oh, you can do that?” soobin joined in the conversation. you nodded at him with wide eyes, not expecting the sudden interruption.

“do what?” hanni asked.

“she can write using both her hands. isn’t she so cool?”

“really?” she gasped, looking at the pen in your left hand. “wow. our vice president is way cooler than the president himself.”

“hey!” heeseung exclaimed as everyone giggled.

“seriously though, she’s the whole package. smart, talented, and pretty?” soobin lowered his voice in a mock-whisper, “i can treat you way better than this guy," he joked, pointing his thumb at heeseung.

“alright, i think we need to get a new treasurer,” heeseung suddenly said. he pointed at the projection and yelled, “look! ernesto's actually the villain!” this successfully put everyone's attention back on the movie, all shocked by the plot twist. (you already knew, because coco was your favourite airplane movie.)

when the party finished up, heeseung actually stayed behind this time, and helped you clean up.

“oh, you really don’t have to,” you told him.

“it’s fine, it’s quicker like this. it’s not fair to make you clean up when you don’t have two working hands.”

you watched as he put away the heavy binders and throw out the trash, feeling a little off-put by the new scene. you thought that maybe you should just go home and leave him to lock up, but he wasn’t saying anything, so you stayed and kept him company. his presence was surprisingly comforting.

“you have the keys?”

“yeah,” you answered, trying to open your backpack.

heeseung made his way over and opened your bag for you. “here, i’ll get it. tell me where it is.”

“oh, uhhh in the pocket there. the left one.”

he found the keys and took them before closing the bag again. he waited for you to put it back on, but noticed you struggling a little with the books in your arm.

“why don’t you just put these in your bag?” he asked, taking them from your good arm and helping you slip your injured one through a strap.

“it’ll be really heavy if i do.” you then thanked him, gesturing for him to give back your textbooks.

instead, he kept them, even holding the door open and waiting for you to pass by first.

“where do you live? i’ll try to help you bring these home.”

“you really-”

“it’s fine, i promise. in fact, i insist.” at your expression, he added, “what kind of president would i be if i didn’t help out my vice?”

right. president. and vice president. not friends, not even classmates. just coworkers.

you rolled your eyes and let him help you. “i usually take the bus home. the one that goes to the museum.”

“ah, i know that one. i usually walk home, but i think there’s a stop that bus goes to that’s near my house. so let’s go.”

heeseung led the way, walking in front of you so you took the chance to observe him from behind.

recently, you noticed that although he always looked put together and clean at the beginning of the day, his hair and clothes felt more loose and casual towards the end of the day - particularly on the longer days where there were council meetings after school. you like this version of him; you feel closer to this heeseung, because it’s a side that only you (and the other members) got to see. it felt a little bit like a secret.

“sorry, looks like my stop is earlier than yours. are you fine with carrying these yourself from here?”

“yep.”

“alright. well then, okay.” when he stood up as the bus stopped, he turned to you and waved lightly. “bye bye!” it was a little endearing - the way he'd said it.

“see you.”

you immediately flopped onto your bed when you reached home (on your back side, of course). it was an… odd day, but you didn’t dislike it.

after a bit of a struggle, you finally fished your phone from your bag, sending ningning a message.

“i think you took my advice too seriously,” ningning chortled during class the next day. “when i said i’d break my leg i didn’t mean actually getting injured!”

you dragged your hand down your face, asking whatever being was listening to your pleas to make your best friend stop teasing you.

“it’s not like i sprained my elbow on purpose??”

“oh girl, you don’t have a single athletic bone do you?”

“you know what, maybe i need to learn to shut up and stop telling you things.”

“i know you won’t. when you’re with me, your attempt at a mysterious persona disappears…”

“are you saying i’m loud?” you ask in mock-offense.

“i’m saying you yap a lot,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “but seriously, who knew getting hit by a volleyball would lead you and The Heeseung finally talk. maybe that guy should’ve thrown one at you when we were fourteen.”

“when did you start rooting for him?” you raised an eyebrow at her.

“i just thought he deserved a chance,” she shrugged nonchalantly, but the way she turned away didn’t sit right with you.

“oh, okay,” was all you came up with.

“so, anyway,” she started again after a moment. “i stalked my ex’s spotify and-”

“oh my god,” you groaned at the mention of her ex. “ningning i told you before, you need to forget about him.”

“i know, i know. but i couldn’t help it! his user was just there on the side, and he was listening to memories!! by conan gray!! i had to see what playlist he was listening to.”

“you need to block his spotify.”

“but that’s so embarrassing. it’s never that deep.”

“if you can’t move on from someone who convinced you that you were nothing without him, then maybe it is that deep.”

ningning sighed. “okay, i’ll block him. but do you want to know what his latest playlist was about?”

“duh,” you laughed as ningning pulled out her phone, promising to block him after.

heeseung continued to help you on the way home every time you guys had a meeting, to your surprise. during those bus rides home, you learned way more about the boy in three weeks than you ever had in your three and a half years of knowing each other. you wondered what had made him like you so much before this if he never even really knew you.

“but i did,” he said. “i did know you.”

“did you really?” you asked, thinking he was joking.

“well, at first, i obviously didn’t. i just thought you were pretty, and fun to annoy. so i kept asking you out just to see your response. after that, i did begin to like you - on a superficial level, of course; i was fifteen!”

you listened intently, finally getting answers to a question you didn’t realise you’d been curious about for so long yourself. heeseung didn’t look at you at all during his monologue, but straight forward instead. so you were able to observe the way the gold light from the sun highlighted his features perfectly. (did he always have such a perfect nose?)

“and then there was a time where i just got tired of it. i wanted to stop, but then everyone would have thought it was out of character. so even though i didn’t even like you anymore - in fact, i hated you, i still kept asking you out. just for show. stupid, right?

“but then, one time, i accidentally ran into you at a shop with ningning. actually, more like i saw you and hid behind one of the aisles. but i heard you say you wanted to get something for your siblings too, and i was like, ‘wow, she actually cares about others?’ back then, i was convinced you only thought about yourself.

“another time, you posted one of your competition wins on your instagram, and i could see from the caption how much you adored your team, even tagging each one of them and thanking them individually. i had never seen someone put that much effort into a simple win before. i kind of felt like i wasn’t thankful enough to my own volleyball team,” he chuckled to himself.

“what really had me falling for you though was when you tutored my sister last year . before that, she'd been going through some sort of mental struggle, what with being bullied at school and coming home to our parents telling her she should be ashamed of her grades. i felt so bad that i couldn’t do anything, you know? her older brother; her protector, but couldn’t do anything against the very people who should have been protecting the both of us. when she’d been signed up with you though, she came home for the first time in a good mood - she was humming! and i asked if something good happened at school, and she told me all about her amazing tutor that assured her she wasn’t the useless being she thought she was. how she was finally beginning to understand school for once, and looked forward to your sessions. when i learned that was you, i wanted so surprised, but so grateful."

you had never felt so touched until now. somehow, heeseung’s words made you feel like you really were worth more than you believed.

“really? wait, who’s your sister?”

“lee haseul. the one with autism, remember?”

“ah yes, of course i do!” you said, the name ringing a bell in your head. “she was definitely a little harder to tutor, but once we found a way to use her fixation on cars and link it to what we were learning, it was smooth sailing from there.”

“i really have no idea how you did that, but you have no idea the impact that had on me and my family. sometimes she asks me what it’s like working with you,” he finally turned to look at you, a pretty smile on his face. your face burned at the adoration on his face, looking away yourself.

“i hope you tell her good things about me.”

“there’s not a bad thing to say.”

“really?”

“really.”

when heeseung left the bus that day, a part of him still stayed with you, as words that constantly replayed in your mind.

it made you feel a little self-conscious, knowing that he’d been watching you this closely all this time. you felt like your efforts were appreciated, and that they weren’t for nothing after all. while your admiration of him only begun after really seeing him work on the council, his respect for you had been brewing for way longer.

you went to bed thinking about him way more than you usually did (and you’ve been thinking about him more often since you sprained your elbow). you found yourself a little more excited for the next meeting day, when he’d go home with you again.

what would you guys talk about? will he tell you more of his thoughts? maybe his other interests? should you ask about his team and work? how was he handling all that? or perhaps you should ask about his sister. anything, really. you just wanted to talk. to him.

oh no, you sounded like a typical high school girl with a crush just now, didn’t you? (well, that’s exactly what you are - no shame in that, though!) if your arm wasn’t injured, you would have been punching your pillow and screaming into it right now.

oh, right - the elbow. for the first time, you really didn’t want it to heal. you wanted it to stay sprained for as long as possible, but that would be stupid, and inconvenient. but then, how else would you talk to heeseung outside of council work? it’s not like you two shared any classes, nor did you run in the same circles at school. the bus rides home were really the only times you got to really talk to heeseung, without all the eyes watching you two.

a small part of you began to dread the day your cast came off, because that would mean heeseung would stop talking to you again, right? he wouldn’t have any reason to riding home with you, and it would go back to that awkward thing you two had.

you sigh and turn over, careful with your arm, and finally fall into a fitful sleep.

“you’re staring at him again.”

that sentence had you flinching away and turning back to ningning, looking at you with a knowing glint.

“i can’t help it! his hair just looks so messy, obviously i’m going to notice.”

“his hair looks the same way it always does…”

“well- look at him walking around like he owns the place! he thinks he’s the shit, doesn’t he?”

“to be fair, he’s the student body president and captain of the volleyball team. maybe he is.”

“why are you defending him?!” you cried at all her replies.

“why are you trying to hard to hate him! we both know how much you li-”

“okay, okay, shhhh,” you shut her up by covering her mouth. really, she needed to learn to shut up. it’s not like the whole world needed to know about your massive crush on the boy you previously hated.

ningning pushed your hands away. “why are you more fixated on him today than usual anyway?”

"okay, first of all," you scoffed at her. "you make it sound like i'm always fixated on him."

"you are."

you rolled your eyes, then bit your lip after a moment of thought, knowing that whatever you were about to say would sound stupid(ly in love).

“it’s just that, i finally got my cast off this past weekend, so i can carry my books home perfectly fine again.”

“ah, and so he won’t be escorting you home anymore like he had been these past five weeks,” ningning finished your train of thought.

you buried your face in your arms, flushing bright red. “god, i sound like an idiot. i hate that i even thought that.”

the girl laughed at you, but patted your back consolingly.

“don’t worry about it. i don’t think heeseung’s gonna stop taking the bus with you just because you’re healed now. trust me, he’s one of the caring people i know.” was that a bit of sadness and longing? maybe you were interpreting her tone wrong.

“he probably will! it’s not like he used to take the bus home before i got hurt.” you peeked up at her. “is it wrong to ask you to throw another ball at me?”

“girl…”

when that day’s meeting finally ended, you and heeseung worked in tandem, tidying up the room before locking up, albeit a little more slowly. it was like both of you were waiting for something, but never said it out loud,

as you finally made your way out the school, you and heeseung turned to each other, hoping the other would say something.

“well-” heeseung started at the same time you said, “are you-”

after a brief moment of awkward silence, you guys burst into soft laughter at the silliness of the situation. what were you so afraid of anyway?

“do you still want to ride with me?” you finally asked him.

“if that’s okay with you.”

“of course it is,” you rolled your eyes playfully, falling into step with him.

“honestly, i thought you were going to go back to walking home after i healed up,” you confessed to him on the bus. “it made me kind of sad.”

“you’d miss me?” he teased, but there was excitement in his tone. he was elated.

“well, these rides are kind of fun! i wish i got to know you like this sooner. and then i thought we’d go back to the way we were before after this, but ningning assured me that it’d be fine.”

“ah yeah, ningning’s cool. wish i had a close friend like her by my side.”

it didn’t click until now how they seemed to be familiar with each other. when did heeseung and ningning become friends? in fact, when did they get a chance to even talk to each other?

“are you friends with her?” you tried to ask nonchalantly, like the topic wasn’t bugging you now. if those two were friends, why didn’t ningning mention it to you?

heeseung seemed to notice the shift in your mood though. “we’re just friends, promise. there’s nothing between us.”

that eased you a little, but that wasn’t really your main concern.

“that’s nice to know. but how did you become friends? i thought you two were was close as me and you were before all this.”

“oh! we met up at summer camp. it was purely by coincidence; my parents decided to send me to one last summer, and she happened to be there. i didn’t know anyone else, so i stuck by her for most of the two weeks we were there. we got to know each other then.”

ningning’s summer camp. last summer had been her third year there, so she wasn’t new or anything. the programme usually lasted two weeks, and they’d take away their phones during that time, so you’d have no contact with her until it ended.

but you’re surprised she didn’t tell you about it when she came back. after all, she had said it was ‘just as usual’, but seeing the new face of your best friend’s (previously) most hated person didn’t seem like nothing.

“huh.”

“i swear though, there was nothing between us back then.”

“i see.”

“i hadn’t talked to her much after my date with you-”

the date. ningning had been the one to push you to go. but why? even if her and heeseung became friends during camp, you and her were still closer. so why did she switch sides? you’d thought it was odd how she was suddenly encouraging you to say yes, when she’d spent the last four years sticking her tongue out at heeseung by your side.

the date, which had gone both so bad and yet so good. when everything had gone terribly wrong, but heeseung did everything right.

“i’m so sorry for being late!” heeseung panted as he ran up to your table.

“the one time i give you a chance, and you’re an hour late, lee.”

“i know, i know. it’s just that my sister-”

“i’m not hearing out any excuses,” you huffed.

you’d felt so humiliated waiting for him. you were shaking, your hair was frizzy with stress and your make up probably a little smudged too. the staff had even given you a free cheesecake slice out of pity. a pity cake.

“whatever, you’re here now, so let’s get this over with”

the waitress came over and gave you an encouraging look (which you ignored) and took your orders. when your meals arrived, you stared at the orange slices in the sauce of your orange chicken. although you hated them, you actually loved the sauce and chicken itself, so you ordered them every time you went to a chinese restaurant.

“you don’t like the oranges?” heeseung asked after seeing you pick them out.

“not really, no. i don’t know how to explain it; i love orange chicken, but i hate actually seeing the oranges on the sauce. it’s a little bit jarring for me, fruits and savoury foods together just don’t make sense to me visually, but when i taste them, they’re so good. just like pineapples on pizza, you get me?”

“i guess,” he thinks out loud. he uses his own chopsticks and starts picking them out from your plate, placing them onto his. “mind if i take these then? i love oranges.”

“i’ve literally seen you throw out a whole orange at school before.”

“you were watching?” he smiled sheepishly, a light pink tint to his cheeks.

“n-not particularly.” you look back down at your food, focusing on your task. you need to be more careful with what you say.

after a terrible start to your date, the rest of your lunch went okay. it wasn’t too bad, and you two started discussing your next plan: watching a movie.

“i’m not even a marvel fan,” you told heeseung after he said he’d gotten two tickets for spiderman: no way home.

“don’t worry, i’ll explain everything to you during the movie.”

“really? also, isn’t a movie a terrible date idea? we wouldn’t really talk to each other.”

“well, i will. i tend to talk a lot during movies.” he turned to you with an apologetic look. “i hope you won’t mind.”

“i’ll need it, won’t i?”

turns out you didn’t need his talking during the movie because you two didn't even get to watch it. a kitchen in the food court next to the theatre had gone up in flames, with the fire spreading to it’s surroundings. thankfully, no one died, but the damage was pretty severe, with half the mall having to close down until reparations are finished. and who knows how long that’ll take…

“oh! well, it’s a good thing i was a little late then, right?” heeseung tried to lighten up this messy date as you two passed by the mall which was now in ashes.

“i guess,” you mumbled. “so what now?”

“well, how about a little bowling?” he suggested.

you nodded, and he drove you two to the local bowling alley. you hadn't done it since you were eight, so heeseung showed you how to do it on your first turn.

“swing your arm like this,” he said, holding onto your bicep and holding onto the ball for you.

“you can let go, you know. i can carry the weight, it’s only the small size after all.”

“i know, but it’s just for demonstration. i’m going to let go of the ball now, okay? make sure to hold tightly,” he looked at you intently. geez, how could someone telling you to hold a bowling ball look at you like you hung the stars?

well, you didn’t really need his help anyway. your instincts kicked in and you managed to hit nine pins all together on your first, with similar numbers for the rest of the rounds. you even got a strike twice!

“are you sure you’ve never bowled before?” heeseung chuckled in awe.

“positive.”

“it always surprises me how easily you pick up things.”

“…thanks.”

and then you hit very few pins every single round after that in the second game.

you hadn’t been able to finish your second game however, because a heavy downpour suddenly came down.

“oh my god, the water is rising so fast,” you called over to heeseung as you looked out the glass doors of the main exit. if the floor hadn’t been lifted, the water would have started flowing in by now.

“crap, should we go home before it gets worse?”

“i suggest you should, kids,” the man behind the counter gruffed. he himself was getting ready to go, with the other customers running outside to their own cars.

heeseung looked outside and then at you.

“you can’t walk outside in those shoes, they’ll get wet.”

you were wearing pointy slip ons that would definitely get wet and soaked if you took a step outside, but it’s not like you had a choice.

“it’s alright, let’s just go-woah!”

heeseung picked you up bridal style and started making his way to his car, going fast but careful not to slip.

“hey! let me down!”

“no way, we’re almost there.”

you tried to fight him off, but he just held tightly until you reached the car, and he gently set you down into the passenger seat before backing out of the parking lot.

“are you crazy?”

“are you?” he retorted. “like hell i’m letting you get all soaked on our first date.”

you wheezed. “this date was so unlucky. who imagined everything that happened could’ve happened.”

“i know! and i wanted to make a good impression so bad. it’s like the world is against me,” he whined.

as you finally reached the front of your apartment complex, heeseung turned to you one last time.

“i’m sorry for everything that went wrong. please let me make it up to you.” he sucked in a breath, and you realised what he was going to say just a moment before he did.

“will you let me take you out on another date?”

yes. absolutely. this was fun. it was terrible, but i had a great time. wait, is this him asking me to be his girlfriend? i should ask. if he says yes, would i say yes? i don’t know, i don’t know him that well. i’ve only really only talked to him today. today’s date. everything went wrong. what if that was a sign? if i say yes, will all our dates just keep going to shit? no way, today was just an anomaly. we’ll be fine. but then when i go back to school, everyone will know. they’ll all look at me like they knew this would happen. they’ll clap him on the back and whoop in the halls, that’ll be so embarrassing. i hate that. maybe i should say no. but he was so sweet. it’s not his fault. but i wouldn’t be able to handle the attention. maybe i should-

“oh… i see.”

you looked up at him in confusion. but he wasn’t looking at you anymore. just straight ahead.

had you said something out loud? your thoughts were running wild, and you really couldn’t make up your mind.

“okay, well. have a good night,” heeseung said. when did he make his way to your door? even through the heartbreak clearly displayed in his voice, he still went out and opened the door for you. or maybe he was kicking you out of his car. was ningning right? had he thought you were undateable?

too much. too much was happening; so much happened today that you couldn’t form an answer. heeseung took your silence as a no (or did you actually say no? out of instinct?), which made your mind even more befuddled. you weren’t sure if you were even forming a coherent thought.

“oh, okay.”

you somehow made it out of the car and to the entrance of the apartment. turning back, you found heeseung’s car still there, with him watching you. you gave a weak wave, one he didn’t return, and punched in your house number.

at the last moment, you wanted to say something. anything, you didn’t know what. but when you around back to him again, he was gone.

you didn’t sleep at all that night. or maybe you did? you couldn’t tell. you’d been so worried over that last moment with heeseung, and had replayed it so many times in your head.

eventually, you convinced yourself that things were fine. that maybe you just imagined it. maybe it wasn’t that bad, and things would go back to normal at school.

definitely. he’ll definitely get back to his shenanigans when school started up again. there wasn’t some sort of finality in his tone - no you just imagined it.

you were wrong.

“why didn’t you tell me you met heeseung at summer camp?”

“how’d you-”

“he told me.” you looked at ningning intently. “but it should have been you.”

“i just- i didn’t think it was worth mentioning! you hated the guy, and it’s not like him being there would have affected you in any way,” she defended herself.

“sure, but i would have appreciated hearing it from you. you knew i’ve had a crush on him for months now, and you could have mentioned it to me?? summer camp was in july; it’s already march for fuck’s sake!”

“i wanted to! i just couldn’t find the right time. you were always busy with student council stuff, and whenever you were free you always talked about heeseung,” he huffed exasperatedly. “how was i supposed to just go, ‘by the way, your crush paid me to set you guys up!’”

your head snapped towards her.

“what?”

“what do you mean wh-” when ningning saw the look on your face, she slapped her hands over her mouth. “you didn’t know about that part...”

“no. i didn’t,” you seethed. “well, i’m glad i got to hear at least something from you.”

you stormed out, ignoring ningning’s pleas of ‘wait! hear me out!’

a fool, that’s what you were. somehow, ningning’s behaviour was even more clear. your best friend had been paid to convince you to say yes. who would have thought she was easily swayed by a few bucks?

and to think that heeseung was really that desperate to take you on a date, going so far as to pay someone close to you to get you to agree? wow, he really was a grade A asshole. sports day had just been topped by ‘being played by my own best friend and crush’ on your list of most embarrassing moments.

speed walking through the halls, you couldn’t stand to look at the pictures of you and heeseung’s faces on the student council board. it hurt so bad, that your feelings could just be easily bought. that someone you considered as family could sell you out like this. that the guy you’d fallen for would go to this length to ‘get you’.

at the bus stop, you saw the man himself smile brightly at you and wave, like he didn’t pay your best friend to get you to go in a date with him. one thing that never fails to amaze you is the audacity of men.

was it all a lie? was his kind-hearted and caring personality all fake? just another thing he did to get your attention? did you truly know heeseung like you thought? or just the 'heeseung' he wanted you to see?

you pointedly looked away, and decided to go home by foot. it was twenty minutes away by walking, but that was enough time for you to at least calm down a little and think about it more. sort out your mind.

you ended up skipping the rest of the week, convincing your parents you were sick (by putting a hot pack on your face and neck before they checked). otherwise, you might have actually broken down right then at school if you saw either heeseung or ningning.

"is everything okay?" soobin asked one day.

"yeah! everything's fine," you said cheerily. "why do you ask?"

"well, it's just that you've been sitting with us instead of ningning."

looking at soobin and his friends, you finally noticed the slight awkward air in the group because of your presence. to be fair, you weren't really close with them to begin with. or anyone. you spent most of your lunch breaks with ningning, but now that you've refused to talk to her for the last two weeks, you've been floating between different groups. sometimes, you even spent lunch in the toilets or the student council room.

but who else could you spend it with? you weren't ready to face ningning yet, and it was already hard enough tolerating heeseung during meetings. you didn't miss the worried looks from him, and he's tried to talk to you several times (which you always declined).

a sigh escapes you, and you massage your forehead. obviously, you needed to confront them both eventually. but not right now. whatever the answer is, you don't think you'd be able to handle it right now.

"do you want to talk about it?" soobin asked, a low volume only for you to hear.

"maybe later," you admitted. it would be a good idea to tell an outsider all of this, especially to soobin, who's always been a great advice-giver.

"there won't be a meeting this friday; seniors are having a rehearsal for the graduation ceremony then. the school wanted to have one before finals started," heeseung told the council. he looked around and asked, "anything else?" at everyone's silence, he nodded and closed the meeting. everyone bid their goodbyes and left, except soobin.

heeseung stared at you with anticipation and uncertainty. he'd given up on asking you to talk for a while now, but still waited for you to act first. he understood that you'd come to him when you were ready.

you looked up at soobin, looking at you with a similar expression, but one that had more curiousity and less anxiety.

"let's go?" he asked. you nodded and followed him out, leaving heeseung to lock up on his own.

you started doing that ever since The Incident. of course, you didn't leave all the clean up work to him, but you rushed your own responsibilities to minimise as much time you had to spend with him as possible.

"seriously?"

you and soobin turned back, finding the voice belonging to heeseung. he was standing outside the student council room, looking at you two, fuming. you could practically see the steam coming out his ears.

"you ignore and shun me away, refusing to talk about this issue between us, but talk to soobin about it instead? why are you dragging him into this??"

you rolled your eyes and turned to him fully, blood boiling. "i'm not 'dragging him into this'. i just wanted to talk to someone, is that so wrong?" you retorted.

"yes! you seriously think getting soobin's opinion is gonna help?"

"am i not allowed to talk to him now? are you going to pay him to stop talking to me too?"

"god, i know it was wrong of me, okay?! i'm sorry, it was shitty of me."

"your apology isn't going to suddenly make everything better. it won't take back what you did."

"i know. but please, talk to me. it's driving me crazy, how you go about acting normal with everyone but me. this whole year, did you not feel anything for me at all? do you really hate me?" he asked, his voice cracking at the end. "if you do, tell me now. so i can finally move on."

you stared at the boy, and the way the late afternoon sunlight hit him from behind. you could barely make out his expression, but maybe that was for the better. you probably wouldn't have been able to turn away and stand your ground if you saw the look on his face.

"you can't say that. not when you were the one who put yourself in this situation. did you think i would never find out? that you bribed my best friend into setting me up with you?" you heard soobin's surprised gasp on the side.

although you had your back to heeseung, you could still imagine what he looked like. the scene broke your heart, but not as much as it did when you found out that ningning had even agreed to such a thing.

after it was clear he wasn't going to reply, you started walking away, with soobin tailing you.

"wow... so that's what happened," was the first thing he said after a few minutes of silence.

"yeah."

"what a dick move."

"right."

you sighed, the adrenaline leaving you and now realising how loud you two had been. there weren't many students left at school, but a teacher or two probably heard the commotion. you'll be the hot topic of the staff lounge room for sure.

when you finally explained it all to soobin, he was quiet for a moment, thoughtful.

"i honestly never expected this from heeseung. it just- it doesn't seem like him."

"that's what i thought too. a little part of me wishes it's all some misunderstanding, but i don't know how it could be twisted any other way."

soobin hummed in agreement. "but, i noticed one thing from all of this though: you still call ningning your best friend," he pointed out. "despite everything, you've already forgiven her. or at least, you've begun to."

you bit your lip, realising he was right. you were beginning to accept it. she seemed genuinely sorry, and you could never hate her forever.

"it's just that - after getting to know heeseung, i felt like a terrible person for not giving him a chance. for always turning him down harshly. maybe i drove him to bribe ningning, maybe she got fed up with me too. i couldn't help but feel guilty for causing both of them to act like this.

"and i know this sounds wrong... but somehow, i felt a little relieved that i wasn't the only person in the wrong. that i wasn't the only asshole in this story - isn't that such a twisted thought?"

soobin melted when he saw your face, and pulled you in for a hug.

"of course not. it's alright to feel like this, you know? it's what makes us human, and what are humans without complicated feelings?"

and just like that, a dam was broken. you didn't realise how much you needed to hear those words until he said them.

it wasn't until may that you finally mustered up the courage to finally talk to ningning, and it seemed she had the same idea too.

"please, can we talk?" she asked at the same time you called her name.

"i was just about to ask the same thing."

once you two found an empty classroom, ningning started immediately.

"listen," she called for your attention. "i'm so sorry. you have no idea how many times i want to say it; i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry. it was such a light offer, really. i didn't realise the meaning it would have in the moment."

"what do you mean, a 'light offer'?"

"during camp, i had bought heeseung's sister some ice cream because she was being left out by the other kids. it was only like two dollars, but heeseung insisted on repaying. but the smallest bill he had was a five, so obviously i refused. but he kept asking me to take it and i told him that if i took it, i'd be the one in debt to him instead. so he made a light-hearted joke about getting you to go on a date with him, so that there'd be no hard feelings between us." she looked up at you pleadingly. "we'd been joking around, i didn't even realise the reality of his question. but when i got back from camp, i didn't think you'd actually go on one with him."

"you kept bringing it up; i trusted your opinion."

"i did, but i didn't really mean it. i was hoping you'd continue to say no, and i could just tell him something like 'sorry, i tried. here's your three dollars back.'"

"you didn't mean it?" you prodded.

ningning looked down at her hands and sighed. you could tell something was weighing on her.

"the truth is... i ended up catching feelings for heeseung. you know how i'd just broken up with my ex recently."

you thought back to her ex, who had isolated ningning from you and her other friends. how she'd come to school covered up even in the heat. the way she'd lost a worrying amount of weight. in all honesty, you should have tried to pry more; to break her out of this toxic relationship. but instead, you told yourself that there wasn't anything you could do, and left her to deal with the abuse on her own.

the guilt ate you, but you distracted yourself with work (and heeseung). god, you're so self-centred, aren't you?

"oh yeah, i remember very well."

"exactly," she says, hearing the loathing in your voice. "heeseung was the first person to show me genuine kindness after that whole affair. and so i found myself watching him over those two weeks, falling for him. and i thought to myself: if you didn't want him, then could i? i feel like the worst person ever, how could i even think that?"

her voice broke at the end, and you could see her silently crying; tears poured down her face but her sobs were inaudible. you'd noticed it was a habit she formed after getting with her ex. she'd never cried much before him, but she used to cry as loudly as you. you placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"it's okay. you're not the only one with shitty thoughts."

her wide eyes peered up at you, sparkling with tears. she wrapped her arms around you, and you reciprocated the embrace.

the way she'd hiccuped and the wet spot you could feel forming on your shirt yet the silent sobs broke your own heart, and you had to force your own tears down.

"i'm sorry too. i was too absorbed in my own life that i didn't pay enough attention to the way you were breaking. i mean, how did i not notice anything all this time?"

you wondered if her smile had ever wavered when she was with you, if she had to fake a laugh, or even force herself to talk to you this past year. dealing with her own problems on her own, while you vented to her yours. if she had, you didn't notice (someone give you a 'best friend of the year' award right now!).

as much as you wanted to hate her for liking heeseung, you didn't. you understood her feelings, especially after getting to know the boy himself. he brought a sense of safety with him wherever he went - so how could you ever hate your best friend for needing that security when no one else offered it to her?

"wait, can i ask you something?" you asked. ningning slipped from the embrace, nodding.

"if you liked heeseung, then why did you still ask me to accept his date offers? you could have just kept it from me, and told him that i said no. was it really just because of the three dollar 'debt'?"

"ah, right. well, when he'd asked me to get you to go on a date with me, it reminded me just how much he liked you. i don't think he'd ever see me the same way, not when his sights are so fixed on you. and after getting a taste of his hospitality, i felt that you deserved it too. that not only did he deserve a chance, but so did you.

"i realised that you needed someone like him. i couldn't give you the care and support he could, not when i'm too absorbed by my own problems. and i knew you were feeling guilty, and heeseung was the only one who could really understand you."

oh, you really were going to either jump off a cliff or hug her so tight her eyeballs might pop out. even when you neglected, she still thought about you through it all. heeseung was wrong, he made you out to be this caring person who thought of others, but that person was really ningning.

"but, what about you? you need care and support too."

"it wouldn't work out between us, he's not the kind of person i want. he was just the first kind person in a while. i need to heal and learn to be more independent myself."

a quiet moment followed, with the both of you lost in your thoughts and emotions. you hadn't felt this lonely in so long, and a weight had finally been lifted from your shoulders.

"so what are you going to do? have you talked to heeseung yet?"

"no, not yet. but he's waited four years now, he can wait a little longer. i just want to spend time with my best friend right now."

'a little longer' ended up being another month. when finals started, the school let the older years off on study leave to focus on exams. so you didn't end up seeing heeseung until the final graduation rehearsal.

as president and vice president, you two were expected to perform a speech and be next to each other the whole ceremony. so you decided it was the perfect time to confront him then.

"heeseung, wait," you called, grabbing onto his wrist as he walked by.

he immediately paused in his tracks, whipping around to look at you with wide eyes, surprised you'd finally decided to talk to him. you glanced at his friends behind him, all with a mix of curious and knowing looks.

"oh, uh, you guys can go ahead," he told them, and they left you two alone.

"i made up with ningning..." you told him.

"i see! that- that's good. im happy you guys did."

"...and i'm sorry. for making a big deal out of nothing. for making you wait so long. you're seriously one of the sweetest people i've ever met. you didn't deserve that."

heeseung shook his head in protest. "no, don't say that. i'd wait for you as long as you want, even if you never accept me. and it was a big deal. i'm guessing she told you?" you nodded. "it was fucked up of me to even make a joke like that. in fact, it was worse than if it was a genuine deal. and i can't just buy your love with three dollars, you're worth more than that." you tried to say something, but heeseung continued.

"i screwed up, i know. but i never lied to you. if there's one thing i've always been sure of, it was loving you. don't you ever feel like you have to love me back though, it's not something you can force. but i'll always have your back. no matter how many fights, how many fuck-ups, or if i ever lose my feelings for you - which might never happen. you can always fall back on me for support."

your eyes watered at his sincerity, feeling unworthy of his kindness.

"i don't deserve that though. ningning does."

"you both do. listen to me," he said, grabbing onto your shoulders and forcing you to look up at him. "don't you ever dare say that you're undeserving of love and support. every one does, but i know who you are; i know how hard you work and your honesty. and i want to guarantee you a home with me, if you ever need one. because i love you."

wow. you've cried so much these past few months, and you're sure you're about to start again. heeseung wiped your tears with his thumb, and your heart swelled.

a year ago, you would have never even thought of accepting heeseung's feelings. a few months ago, you thought you had just missed him, finally reciprocating his feelings right as he lost them. but now you were finally on the same page, and you didn't want to waste another moment.

"i love you, heeseung."

graduation day was a busy one. you had to start getting ready earlier than other students in order to prepare your speech and arrive before everyone else. it was stressful, yet rewarding, especially as you crossed the stage and finally received your diploma.

when you and heeseung were set to give your pre-written speeches, you almost didn't notice the way everyone looked motivated during his, being captured by his words yourself. you hoped to be able to instil that inspiration in others one day.

towards the end of his speech though, he did something you didn't expect, but shouldn't have been surprised by.

"so toward my fellow graduates and our families who've supported us all this way, let's celebrate our achievements and strive to follow our dreams," then turned to look back at you, pulling a bouquet of flowers from under podium, which he'd blocked from your view this whole time with his body. "as i will be with mine. so i'll ask one last time: would you let me have the honour of being your boyfriend?"

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide the smile on your face. with the cheers echoing throughout the hall, you suddenly got a sense of deja vu, remembering his election speech the previous year.

oh, how much things have changed since then.

"if only you'll let me be your girlfriend."

; BONUS

with exams over and the heatwave taking over the country, you had decided to spend the day at heeseung's house and try to cool off.

"are you and ningning going back to camp this summer?" you asked, hoping he'd say no. having zero contact with your best friends for two weeks sounded like hell. not even a good morning or good night text? shivers went down your spine at the thought.

"i think i'll be busy with college apps. not sure about ningning though."

"really?" you gasped, turning over to look at him. "so basically i get to spend the whole holiday with you."

heeseung grinned at you excitedly, thinking the same. then, his face suddenly lit up, as if remembering something.

"speaking of ningning, i just remembered how she sprained her leg last year. she spent the rest of the week in the infirmary."

"really? she was fine when she came back though."

"it was minor, so it only took one week, in the middle of those two."

suddenly, you remembered something too.

"i'd hang out with him, break my leg, therefore obliging him to bring me to the hospital, manipulate him to visit me every day as i recover, be overbearing as hell so that he'd realise he doesn't want me anymore, and poof! he's gone."

"no way..."

"what?" he questioned.

"did you have to visit her everyday?"

"oh. yeah, to give her her medicine and meals. the other kids had basically made me their makeshift nurse, since i treated them better than the nurse apparently," he laughed at the memory. "i caught the old lady glaring at me several times - maybe she thought i'd stolen her job?"

you laughed with him, but not only because of his story. you couldn't believe ningning's oddly specific solution had actually come out of experience. you were so going to bully her for this later.

"should i glare at you too, then?"

"hm?" he hummed confusedly.

"for stealing my heart."

heeseung blinked at you for a moment, before breaking into a wide smile and suddenly attacking you with tickles (a habit you learned he tended to do when he was flustered, specifically by you).

giggles escaped you, laughing so hard that it began to hurt. if this is how it's going to be with heeseung, you'll grow abs in no time.

"okay! okay, stop-" you cackled.

he obliged, helping you sit back up. then he tucked your hair behind your hear and placed a quick peck on your lips.

suddenly shy, you looked away with a smile facing the fan as it blew air onto your face, pushing your hair back. when you looked back at heeseung over your shoulder, you were surprised to find him beaming at you with awe on his face.

"you're beautiful, you know?"

"only when i'm with you."

"nope. you're always stunning."

"okay."

"you don't believe me?"

"i do."

"good. i'll keep saying it anyway, to make sure you do."

you stared at him for a moment that felt like hours, just staring into each others eyes. you then went in for a hug, toppling over the other and staying in that position - just you two cuddling on his bed.

sure, it was really hot today, but somehow the warmth from his body was more comfortable than anything else. you couldn't have asked for a more perfect moment.

; AUTHOR'S CORNER ! is it obvious i've never had a big injury before... anyway i hope u guys enjoyed this! i wrote this really quick and suddenly like it js came out of nowhere lol but for now i'm proud of it :)

; TAGLIST - @naespas @okwonyo @sleepdeprivedline @lcvclywon @llvrhee @hommyy-tommy @sumzysworld @syazzzlisa @jiawji @cjayius @desistay @dimplewonie perm. @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii @haechansbbg @gweoriz @maoyueze @manooffline @yizhoutv @rikibun @wonniversity networks. @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ mi's works #kflixnet #k-labels #k-films #enhypen #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen heeseung #heeseung fic #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung fics #heeseung oneshots #heeseung long fics #ੈ♡˳ wait until you like me again

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maccreadysbaby · 4 months

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Writing Tips; Dialogue

Does your dialogue fall flat, or feel thin and strange? Does it feel like your characters are talking like robots? Do your conversations sound repetitive and monotone? We’ve all been there. It’s a very common occurrence amongst writers. Here are some of my favorite ways to avoid the monotone robot characters and add life and movement into your dialogue!

In this post, we’re going to have an example sentence that changes as I talk about different additions. Here it is in its naked, base form: “I know it’s real I saw it,” Nico said.

Now, let’s hop into making it lively, shall we?

1) PUNCTUATION

Commas and punctuation are your best friends! Use them. Use the crap out of them. Many people will say commas can’t go here and they can’t go there, but I say, in dialogue, it doesn’t matter. If you want your character to pause but you don’t want to use an ellipsis because it feels too long, use a comma. Put them wherever you want. Wherever your character pauses. If your character is rambling or talking really fast, take them out. It’s your dialogue. Use any and all punctuation to bedazzle up your lines. There is never too many or too little of anything if you want it that way, folks.

Keep in mind, punctuation can change the whole feeling of your sentence and the way your readers imagine your character talking. For example, your punctuation should differ between an excited and a sad line.

Here is the example sentence, punctuated in two different ways. “I know it’s real, I saw it!” Nico said. “I know it’s real… I saw it,” Nico said.

Can you see how just the change in punctuation changes the way you imagine him saying it? Really hone in on how your character is speaking and punctuate it to show that. (Keep in mind that this is your story and your character. You don’t have to obey punctuation rules and writing stereotypes, your story obeys you.) Put whatever punctuation you want there. Use thirty commas in your sentence. Use an ellipsis after every word. If it makes your character sound how you want them to sound, go for it, friends!

2) ITALICS

Some people hate reading over-italicized works, but that’s their own preference. Italics is a great way to add interest, movement, and a characters natural inflection into your dialogue. (I freaking love italics.) Italics helps readers understand what the character is focused on, and how they’re speaking. Again, people will say not to use it too much or only to use it so many times in a paragraph… but the key here is still to write it how you like it. Italics can make your sentences sound more human and more authentic.

Here is our pair of examples, now with punctuation and italics. “I know it’s real, I saw it!” Nico said. “I know it’s real… I saw it,” Nico said.

Take a minute and read through the example dialogue, imagining each word italicized one by one. Pay attention to the meaning and context it gives it. (For example, if the ‘I’ at the beginning is in italics — I know it’s real — that could imply that he’s talking to someone who doesn’t know or believe whatever he’s talking about is real.)

3) DIALOGUE TAGS

Tags. Tags, tags, tags! Tags are so important! Tags are brilliant for clarifying and identifying exactly how your character is speaking and how they intend for the statement to come across. If you ignore every other tip in this post, don’t ignore the tag! There are so many different words you could use instead of said that give life and context to your lines. Muttered, mumbled, yelled, shouted, exclaimed, whined, groaned, whispered, and a ton ton ton more. Use these to your advantage, like an outline for your dialogue. The tag is undoubtedly the easiest way to make your lines come across the way you want them to.

Here’s the examples with different tags! “I know it’s real, I saw it!” Nico defended. “I know it’s real… I saw it,” Nico mumbled.

Don’t be afraid to move your tag around, either! Sometimes, in order to make your conversations less repetitive, moving your tags are nice. You can put them at the beginning, middle, or end! (Middle tags are my favorite, I use them a whole, whole lot…)

Here’s the example sentence with a tag at the beginning and middle. Nico growled: “I know it’s real, I saw it!” “I know it’s real…” Nico muttered. “I saw it.”

Don’t forget, tags don’t always have to be how they’re speaking. It can also be what they’re doing or how they’re acting, which can be just as telling as other tags. (I use action tags sooooooo much. Action tags in the middle of dialogue is my jam.)

The example sentences with action tags: Nico crossed his arms, huffing deeply. “I know it’s real, I saw it!” “I know it’s real…” Nico averted his gaze, staring down at his shoes instead. “I saw it.”

Or, you can mix them both! An action tag plus how they’re speaking for maximum impact and description.

Here’s the example sentence with both! Nico rolled his eyes, hissing: “I know it’s real, I saw it!” “I know it’s real…” Nico uttered, poorly stifling a shudder. “I saw it.”

4) DESCRIPTION

Describing the way your character looks, moves, speaks, etc etc before and after the line can further help your readers know how they feel about what they’re saying. This is especially important if the character is not the main character and doesn’t have internal dialogue. Body language can explain things voices can’t or won’t. You can explore putting these descriptions before the line, after the line, in the tag, or after the tag. Whatever you prefer!

Here’s the sentence with descriptive sentences with it. I did one before the line & tag and one in the middle! He was practically fuming, his eyebrows knitted so closely together they looked like a single strip of hair. His eyes were flicking between his friends like he was trying to determine if they were joking, blue irises blurred with a rage-fueled haze. Nico finally rolled his eyes, hissing: “I know it’s real, I saw it!” “I know it’s real…” Nico uttered, poorly stifling a shudder. His eyes never left the floor, and he looked smaller, younger as he spoke. His breaths weren’t exactly even, but they weren’t too quick, either. “I saw it.”

Look at those two very different scenarios we got out of the same base line! This is the power you hold, folks, the power to un-bland your dialogue and make it into something intense and memorable for your readers! The power to make it portray exactly what you want it to portray! No more worrying how your readers took that line, because you set in stone how it was presented.

Remember, making a paragraph like that for every line might get tiring or repetitive to read. Sometimes tags alone are good enough in fast-paced or long conversations, and sometimes, if the dialogue makes it clear who is speaking, the line can suffice by itself!

If you have any writing tip requests, drop them in my inbox!

#original writing #creative writing #writers #writing #writing tips #writing help #writers on tumblr #writeblr #character dialogue #writing dialogue

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acerikus · 2 years

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Secondhand embarrassment for ppl so angry about others saying 'prev tags' in the tags tbh

Those threads where people are all saying 'prev tags' but the previous tags are also just that and you have to go back like 30 times? Yeah those deserve to be dropkicked to death, but if they're genuinely just talking about the tags in the reblog before? It's not that deep. Maybe they just wanted to quietly enjoy/agree with the tags without making the subject a core part of the post like screenshotting would.

#ppl on this site get so angry at the stupidest things and i just????!#like i saw one claiming it's not as accessible or that the tags are lost forever if someone deactivates and i just...#not everything NEEDS to be around forever. i don't need every convo I've ever had with a friend archived up and preserved forever y'know?#the internet has eaten ppl's brains a little i think... archival is important but ppl don't say prev tags bc they want the world to see.#it's an in the moment thing to show the last person they agree quietly without putting their tags on blast #and for the ppl who follow them to see in the moment. if it's months old and the previous blogger deleted then guess what?#those tags weren't for you anyway. tumblr was always cool for letting ppl quietly appreciate things with tags without it being a big deal #like replies and reblog additions are... y'all getting mad at ppl not screenshotting are the ones REALLY forgetting the roots of this site.#like seriously. this is probably the only social media left that you could even do this on and it's silly to be so mad

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kimdokjas · 10 months

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wait wait, what’s the change tumblr did to the reblog chains ? 🥲🥲🥲 I’m so lost

okay so basically, let's say you see a post on your dash

before the update, if you clicked on a url, you could do 3 things:

view that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A)

view the previous reblog on the blog A reblogged it from (B)

view the original post on op's blog (C)

however, staff recently implemented an update where clicking on a url no longer takes you to that specific post. now, clicking on a url just takes you to the blog itself.

this means that you now get 5 things:

view ONLY that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A) -> changed location near header. also, you will now ONLY see that post and nothing else

view ONLY the original post on op's blog (C) -> changed location near header. you will only see that post and nothing else. and ONLY if the op hasn't deleted it, otherwise it just shows an error

view the blog of the person you follow (D)

view the blog of the person D reblogged it from (F) -> option B no longer exists

view the blog of the op (E)

you might be thinking: "cool! i get more options so that's good, right?" well, no.

there are SEVERAL things wrong with this and it goes beyond the prev tags issue

1) first of all, it's counterintuitive that A and C changed locations to the area near the header, especially if your userbase was already used to the previous functions. it just seems like horrible UX design to me but let's put that aside for now.

2) as you can see, option B which allowed you to see the previous reblog of a post no longer exists.

now, if you click on the previous url, you will just be taken to their entire blog. you can no longer view the post itself.

someone asked staff about this, and they replied in this post that the change was INTENTIONAL and if you want to view the previous reblog you would have to "go through the notes view".

to borrow what someone else said:

basically, this update just killed the prev tags culture in one fell swoop.

(sure, you can still use it to reply directly to the person you're reblogging from, but it's now literally useless to use "prev tags" for everyone else involved. sure, you can choose to copy tags or peer review them, but again, if people will have to copy them then the less people are likely to use them, and not every prev lends itself to peer-reviewing imo)

now, listen. i know not everyone likes the prev tags culture, but it just seems like such a poorly-thought decision to kill a culture that like... half of your entire userbase uses (see this poll as a quick reference) and that's UNIQUE to your site and sets you apart from other social media.

but it's also not even just prev tags. let's say you want to remove an annoying addition on a post's reblog chain? you can no longer do that.

however, i feel like this is the most important point:

regardless of how you may feel about the prev tags culture, the pure UI aspect of it should remain

what i mean by this is: even if you don't like prev tags, simply 1) being able to access the reblog chain, and 2) clicking on a post and actually have it take you to their BLOG (and not just a page with that one single post) is literally essential navigation.

this update threatens to drive down user engagement (which is already critically low) by making it harder to navigate. which is actually another point:

3) even if you click on A and C now to view those specific posts, it's NOT the same as it used to be.

before, you could view the reblog directly on the blog. so you could just scroll down and see the other posts leading up to it. now, you will be taken to a page where you will ONLY see that post and nothing else.

but also, you can no longer easily navigate other people's blogs.

you know how sometimes you would see like 50 notifications of someone going through an entire tag on your blog? that's going to happen a lot less, i'm afraid.

let's suppose you want to go to op's blog because they're an artist and you want to see more of their art. so you click on C and see that the tag they use for posts with their art is "#my art"

cool! before, you could just click on that tag and immediately view ALL of their art as long as the posts have that tag.

but now, if you click on that tag, it will take you to the ENTIRE tumblr tag with literally all the posts that everyone in the history of time has tagged with that specific tag.

now, to do the same thing that just took 2 clicks before, you would have to: click on C to view the post -> look for the tag you want to navigate -> click E to view their whole blog -> scroll and look for a post that just so happens to have that tag (the search function is literally useless) and hope to god that there's a recent one or you'll have to scroll for ages or simply give up -> if you happen to find it, click on that tag to navigate their posts.

you see how this is counterproductive, right? you see how this can literally drive down engagement with content creators, right?

if you make people's blogs harder to navigate, you will literally drive down the number of likes and reblogs on their posts, which have already been steadily declining for years now.

4) options D and E to view the blogs and not the posts are literally useless because you could already access other people's blogs before. you just had to click on their url to view their blogs starting from that specific post AND you could choose to just refresh it to view their newest posts.

either way, the change just seems completely unnecessary. and again, it's not just about the prev tags culture but about basic UI.

so what can we do about it?

i normally don't advocate for flooding staff with messages but i do feel like this is one of the worst updates staff has ever done (and that's saying something) and something needs to change.

even if they don't retcon the entire update, that's fine, but staff could at least add the option to view the reblog chain as a different feature (maybe even opt-in) for example. there are better ways to go about this than just axing an entire existing feature.

also, this same issue that makes it harder to navigate blogs needs to change. i feel like content creators will be especially affected by this unless this changes because you can no longer easily navigate their tags, so it will inevitably drive down engagement.

so please, contact staff and let them know we want a change.

you can contact support here!

here's a template for a possible message you could send, but feel free to edit it. (under category you can choose "Feedback")

Hi, I would like to politely request a change to the recent update that affects the reblog chain of posts. Regardless of the "prev tags" culture itself, the UI aspect of being able to view the reblog chain of a post is essential for navigation on this website. Even adding it as a separate, opt-in feature would be a huge help. Additionally, clicking on a post and then on one of the tags now takes you to the entire tumblr tag instead of the tag on that blog, which makes it harder to navigate blogs. Both of these issues have the potential to drive down user engagement by actively making it harder to navigate Tumblr, but especially for content creators. I hope you can do something to address these issues as soon as possible. Thanks in advance and have a nice day.

also, if you can and/or want, reblogs are appreciated to help spread the word!

that's pretty much the gist of the issue from what i've seen, but if anyone else has anything to add or a different way we could contact staff to make ourselves heard, please feel free to let me know!

TLDR: it's not just about prev tags, this update affects basic functionality and content creators as well

#pls reblog if u can to help spread the word!!#@anon this turned out a lot longer than i expected omg #i hope u don't mind me hijacking this ask to make a general informative post about this issue!!#ask #anonymous #tumblr #tumblr update #prev tags #signal boost #supportcontentcreators #evansyhelp #staff #long post for ts #196

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word-wytch · 5 months

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Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 16

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 16/? 9k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Frustrated by inconclusive endings, Eddie takes a seat behind the wheel.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, true love, smut (18+ mdni), internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

✏︎ Chapter CW: general angst, paternal angst, drug mention

Thursday, December 12th 1985

Before the first morning bell, Eddie gave Judy at reception his best impression of Wayne over the phone. He wasn’t totally lying, he was in fact, quite sick. Sick of all the taunting looks from meathead jocks. Sick of the way Ms. O’Donnell cleared her throat every five minutes. Sick of waking up so goddamn early. Sick of wasting his time. So after hanging up the phone, he stuffed a few essentials in his backpack and made for the door.

Like clockwork, Wayne always came home at around 8:10 AM, and though it would be far from the first time he’d skipped school, Eddie would rather not have to explain himself. Besides, he could use a change of scenery. There was no denying winter anymore, the ice he scraped off his windshield made sure to remind him. On a typical hooky day he would drive down to Lover’s Lake and toss open the rear doors, catch a breeze, light a joint, sit back and take in the ripples on the water and the rustling leaves. But that had all frozen over, so unless he intended to burn through his whole tank of gas, he would need to get creative.

That was how he found himself at Benny’s at 7:58 on a Thursday morning, setting up camp in a booth at the back of the restaurant. He ordered his usual — bacon, scrambled eggs, and a stack of pancakes in addition to white toast. Tossing his fourth emptied sugar packet beside the leaning tower of creamers, he sat back in the sticky, padded seat and took his first deep breath all morning.

The diner was bustling lowly, a handful of regulars perched on silver, spinning stools at the bar. From the frosted window leeching cool air beside him, he watched the funeral procession of headlights down Washington under a mournful sky. Just another day for the upright citizens of Hawkins, Indiana. From his cozy booth, Eddie sipped the top off his very full mug and smiled to himself.

Sprawling his belongings around the piping hot plates, he popped on his headphones, cracked open his monster manual, and got to work. The first hour flew by like his pencil across the graph paper. Between the bacon bits that had leapt from hand to page, a formidable lineup of foes was taking shape. Bottom line; the boys were in for a world of hurt tomorrow. He did his best to resign the grease to the flimsy napkins, but by the time he was finished, syrup tacked the gargoyle and gorgon pages together.

“Anything else I can grab for ya besides the check?” Sheri—according to her name tag—asked with a tired lean as she reached to clear his plates.

Eddie glanced down sheepishly at his freshly topped off mug. “I uh, think I might be staying for lunch.”

Sheri forced a hot pink smile, catching the fork with her decorated finger when it threatened to slide off the plate. “Y’ want me to get a room set up for you too?” she joked with a wink of her spidery lashes. “Just teasin’ sweetie. You just flag me down when you’re ready.”

Switching out his tapes, Eddie shut the cassette player and stared out the window as the men at the bar tossed their napkins and fished out their wallets. Snow was falling in lazy clumps, clinging to his windshield. Somewhere behind the overcast clouds, the sun was rising steadily. It was dismal, a fitting backdrop for the opening track of Black Sabbath’s Heaven and Hell. Of all the seasons, winter belonged to metal. Like it was made for cruising down a quiet, snow-covered street in the middle of nowhere. Made for drowning out Bing Crosby crooning from the speaker in the corner above him. Tinsel glittered on the small tree perched on a cloud of fake snow beside the cash register. Ornaments on swags swayed to the thump of footsteps passing. Eddie sighed and stared into the changing street lights.

Glancing at his watch he figured you were probably wrapping up the film with second period, knitting your brow and drawing your pen across the papers you were grading. He wondered what you’d think when the bell rang for fourth and you found his seat empty. Would you think he was upset with you? There was a small part of him that hoped so, and another part that hoped you would understand. After all, he was giving you the space you asked for, was he not?

Like a siren, your story—tucked between his notebook and the magazines he’d exhausted twice cover to cover—called to him. Cracking open the plastic spine, he dove headfirst into the typewritten pages.

For the whole narrow path into Rower’s End, Cybelle had sat in the front of the caravan, breathing the briny air unhindered by a barrier. Lazarus admired the brilliant fullness of her smile as she watched the seagulls soar overhead, under the clouds she had only ever seen from above. The sunlight had graced them then, beaming down in golden rays, glinting on the distant waves as they approached the sleepy seaside town.

Eddie could feel the corners of his mouth tug as Lazarus regaled Cybelle with a story of a time when he’d accidentally taken a crab home with him after spending a day at the beach, followed by an explanation of what a crab was. Cybelle seemed delighted with the prospect of seeing one, even more-so when he told her how he’d discovered the little hitchhiker when it pinched his rear in bed that night. Eddie noticed the way Cybelle leaned closer whenever Lazarus told stories, the way her hand came to shield her bare face with a giggle when he mentioned his rear. The way her delicate, copper fingers lingered over the soft skin of his forearm when she checked beneath his bandage. The wound was healing nicely — no sign of infection and not a thorn in sight. She warned that it might scar, but Lazarus did not appear concerned—rather the opposite actually—as if a strange part of him was pleased with the idea of having something to remember her by.

As they dipped over the final hill toward Rower’s End, Lazarus told her another story. A dream, rather, of a little cottage in Shantiglade with a full sized bed, and a garden, and a goose egg omelette big enough for two. A dream that would likely never come to pass. Cybelle seemed equally enchanted by it. Sitting back against the boxy, wooden seat of the caravan, she breathed in the salty air and imagined how good it would feel to do so every day. To experience the feeling of sand between her toes, of the ocean at her ankles, of propping her elbow against their shared kitchen table and gracing Lazarus with a naked smile before trying whatever an omelette was. It was good like this too — bumping along under a clear blue sky as Turnip plodded down the scarcely trodded path, watching the wind caress the wild grass and Lazarus’ even wilder curls, hearing his tales and his laughter.

Around the time he would be slumping into his desk in the back of your classroom, the bell dinged over the door of the restaurant. Eddie cranked the volume on his headset to drown out the chatter of a family of four clambering into the booth in front of him. The little boy had brought a pair of plastic drumsticks with him, beating a rhythm on the steel-rimmed table much to the annoyance of his little sister, who was clutching her book the way Eddie was yours. Dipping his few remaining fries into the smear of ketchup, he wondered why they weren’t in school on a Thursday afternoon. As he focused back on the type-written letters, he figured he should be the last to judge.

Eddie felt for Lazarus, he really did. The way he looked at Cybelle as she emerged from the cave, cradling the ghostfern like a pale, translucent child. The scene was as beautiful as it was somber — waves lapping at the rocky shoreline as the setting sun cast its deep orange hues on both of them. The rocks—slick with algae—had Cybelle stumbling, but Lazarus was quick to offer his arm. She accepted without hesitance, clutching the plant like a bouquet as her deep earthen fingers braced the pale angles of his. He lead her down the cascading stone as if it were a chapel aisle, slow and steady until they reached the flat edge of the water. There—in the golden remains of the day—seagulls dipped and soared over the glittering ocean, clasped hands swayed in the lapping wind, and for a moment, they had everything they came for.

After what seemed like both a small eternity and an aching second, it was Cybelle who broke away, tracing the ridges of his fingers as hers fell, stating out loud what both of them knew — that night was coming soon.

The journey back to Torgaard proved easier than the journey out, at least in terms of natural foes. No fenfinks or villainous vines, but the sky seemed to hang much lower. Dark, stormy clouds loomed overhead, casting its pale grey light over the moss curtains outside of Fenwood, over the verdant forests that shuddered in the gusting wind. There was a tension, a dread looming on the horizon that grew with each passing day. Even Eddie could sense it — the way Cybelle stared out into the swath of shifting green like she was attempting to soak up enough for the rest of her life. The way that Lazarus’ jokes were swallowed the creaking of the caravan. How nights that were once spent laughing over a roaring fire were now spent silently watching its crackling embers.

One day—just a few outside of Torgaard—the sky came crashing down. It sobbed in sheets, heavy enough to soak through Cybelle’s coat, to find the tear in her tent and make a lake of it. Lazarus ushered her inside the wagon, offered her a shirt that fit like a dress, offered to sleep on the floor. Assessing the size of the bed, and then the hard, narrow walking path, it was Cybelle who insisted they share it. She was small enough, or at least that was what she rationalized out loud. Lazarus did not argue. Her logic—unlike her tent—was water-tight. And so she climbed in between the soft linen sheets, tucked herself under the weight of the down blanket, and rested her damp, weary head on a pillow that smelled just like him.

Eddie glanced sheepishly around the restaurant, shielding the binder with his arm as Lazarus climbed in beside her. He hinged on each type-written word, lingering over the ones that stirred a fuzzy feeling. Written with careful attention to the way Lazarus’ chest rose and fell, how stiff their bodies were in hyper-awareness of the nearness to each other. How solid his shoulder felt under Cybelle’s cheek when the corner of pillow no longer sufficed. Slowly, they relaxed into the feeling. Not enough to sleep, but enough for Lazarus to free the arm that she was crushing. Enough to wrap it around her shoulder, to relish in the feeling of her cold nose in the warm crook of his neck.

It was good like this. Better when her fingers draped across the landscape of his pecks, felt his chest rise and fall like waves. Best when they awoke in the morning to the sun steaming in through the small, stained glass window above them. When their giggles shook the wagon. When their eyes met, closer than they’d ever been before. There, in the dim cocoon far outside the turning world, the smile that she had hidden for so long finally grew brave enough to capture his. And by the time they reached the towering stone walls of Torgaard, there was nothing more to hide from one another.

Eddie flipped the page to find only a black, plastic pocket. He rubbed it with his fingers to make sure it wasn’t sticking to another. When it failed to separate, he sat back and fumed. That was it. There was no more. No ending, no closure.

Sheri leaned against the top of the booth seat opposite him, hand on her hip, shifting between her dirty white sneakers with a tired sigh. “Listen sweetie, I’ve got ten minutes left of my shift. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, but I’ve gotta cash you out before I leave.”

Eddie glanced at his watch, almost 2:00. “Yeah—yeah, no problem. Sorry for the trouble.”

“’S no trouble, just the way it goes around here. Hope you enjoyed your stay,” she said with a wink as she dropped the check.

After six hours and two meals, Eddie had gotten his fill of watching the world turn through an old, frosted window. His head was spinning enough on its own. With a frustrated huff he peeled his graph paper and manual away from the sticky table before shoving them into his backpack. Slugging it over his shoulder, he grabbed the grease-stained check and made his way to the register. That was when he noticed it — the lonely, half-eaten omelette on the bar.

“Alright that’ll be ten seventy-five,” chimed Sheri.

Tinsel glittered on the tree. Red, metallic bulbs swayed in the echo of his footsteps. Judy Garland caroled on about a merry little Christmas and he wondered if your characters would ever enjoy anything over their shared kitchen table or if that dream would be abandoned for their duties as well.

“Sir?”

Snapping out of his trance, he fished for his wallet and palmed her a twenty. “Keep the change,” he muttered before turning toward the door with a hoist of his backpack.

Her jaw hung open. “Oh my word, are you serious?” she called to his back, but the bell above the door was the only answer she received.

______

Main Street Vinyls was a ghost town on a Thursday afternoon, and Eddie preferred it that way. Aside from Jerry at the counter, it was just him and his noisy thoughts, accompanied by the slow plod of his own heavy boots as they weeped against the carpet. At least in this store he could escape the onslaught of Christmas tunes. Jerry—old hippie that he was—at least had some sense. Sometimes even sense enough to play some halfway decent rock music, but today Eddie would settle for Neil Young over the jingle bell garbage blasting through every speaker in Hawkins.

Glancing down the rows of plastic cassette spines, Eddie perused the M section as he kicked himself for giving away almost ten dollars. There was an album by a new band he’d only read about in magazines called Megadeth. Turning the tape over in his hands, he examined the cover. Everything about it spoke to him — the skull with its mouth chained shut surrounded by knives and candles, the title — Killing Is My Business. Flipping it over to the back, the phrase continued in haunted red letters …and Business Is Good!

The change he gave away in a fit of blind stupidity would have easily afforded it and left him with some to spare. With a bitter sigh, he shoved the tape back in its slot, knowing for a fact that the cash register at Benny’s had eaten the last bill he had in his wallet. Padding slowly down the aisle, he began his calculations.

He had a few regular deals lined up this weekend but would need to dig into his “savings” in the bottom of an old tobacco tin and pay Rick a visit before any of that happened. He might make eighty bucks if he was lucky. Maybe eighty more over the course of the week between the deals at school. Nobody wanted to spend too much time outside this time of year, so the park bench location was always iffy depending on how bad it was. He would resort to other classic meetup spots, like under the bleachers or the back of his van.

If he networked enough he might have some left over after helping Wayne with the bills. Scanning past the Tina Turner and T-Rex tapes, he wondered how much Wayne suspected about his little business. Surely he had to have some suspicion. Gig money, odd jobs, and oil changes for neighbors couldn’t possibly afford the kind of gear he had, or the ink in his skin, or the cash he contributed monthly. Wayne was sharp, and though he was no saint himself, he shuddered to think what he would say if he discovered his nephew was straying down the same path his brother took.

Peering back over his shoulder, he eyed the Megadeth tapes again—only three in stock—lined up like gifts wrapped in cellophane. They were such tiny things. Small enough to hide beneath his palm, to slide into the pocket of his coat with room to spare. Glancing up at the angled surveillance mirror in the corner of the store, he saw Jerry at the counter, humming obliviously as he stuck price tags on a fresh shipment of tapes. Over the tall shelf that separated them, he expected to meet his own eyes, but instead saw another man. A man he hadn’t seen in quite a while.

Eddie remembered finding a G chord for the first time; how big the fretboard felt in his small hand, how awkwardly his fingers had to stretch, how a larger set of hands had helped him find it. He earned a broad smile when the chord rang out, one he would search for again and again with every strum.

Sometimes in the late evenings as he crept past Wayne with a lunchbox full of drugs while he was watching reruns of Bonanza on the couch, Eddie would tell himself that at least he wasn’t stealing cars, or drinking himself half to death, or rotting behind county bars. At least he was still in school, something Warren Munson couldn’t say even at sixteen. At least Eddie could say he was trying.

With a bitter shake of his head, he continued down the aisle, leaving the tapes behind for the record bins that lined the walls. Mindlessly he walked his fingers over the cardboard spines, glazing past titles he’d seen a dozen times. Nothing new. Nothing different. Few things ever were in Hawkins. Every day he’d wake up and slog himself to a different type of prison, sit in a classroom for eight hours and actively feel his brain rotting. He would crumple up his failed tests and shove them in his backpack, endure the stares from kids whose parents cared enough to give them a ride to school, day after day. And every day he would come home and see the twinge of pride on Wayne’s face for the fact that he’d gone at all.

There were a few perks to sticking around, like running his club, and saving lost sheep, and seeing his friends everyday. Like having a swath of potential customers all in one place. It was safe and familiar, like a cage. His little business might be dangerous and criminal but at least it could afford him one thing he valued even more than ink or gear — freedom. Time, for another thing. Flexibility. It sure as hell beat making three dollars an hour flipping burgers or having to answer to some corporate boot-licker telling him what to do. Eddie huffed sharply, wondering what you would think if you knew. You, with your tightly buttoned blouses and endless patience. You, the very last person he wanted to disappoint.

The last look he’d seen on you destroyed him when he thought about it; the pain in your eyes and bitter line your pretty lips became. You were just about the only reason he had left to show up to class anymore, and now that was getting in the way of the one thing that actually had potential in his eyes. Way more potential than a stupid piece of paper that says, congratulations, you’re a real member of society and not a complete disappointment.

You had asked him a question back when you’d first made the arrangement to help him, one that rattled around in his brain ever since. Why did he want to graduate? If his memory served him, he’d given a relatively bullshit answer: to prove all the assholes in this god-forsaken purgatory wrong. It still held a fair amount of truth, but when he glanced up at the surveillance mirror again and saw himself this time, the real answer was abundantly clear. But was proving a point worth the risk of losing you?

The smell of cardboard and cellophane kissed his face as air puffed between each record falling forward. Each a different picture, some repeats of the same. Rock gods wielding wicked weapons, bathed in holy stage lights somewhere in New York or Los Angeles probably. Somewhere important. Sometimes at the Hideout he would close his eyes and imagine he was on one of those stages, but when he would open them as the last note rung out, it was always the same — just Bill and Drunk Sam, maybe a couple of bikers perched at the bar with their backs to him. Empty stools and sticky tables. A weak applause.

Eddie stepped back from the record bin with a heavy sigh and glanced at his watch. He’d killed about thirty minutes in this store, which meant he had at least twenty more before he could return home without triggering Wayne’s suspicious questions. The walls were starting to close in around him — posters like windows into a world far out of reach. Every million dollar strum reverberating through the speakers like a mocking reminder. With a half-hearted wave to Jerry stocking shelves, he left the store. Empty handed.

The drive down Randolph was always dismal, especially in the bleak winter light. Storefronts with yellowing signs that hadn’t changed in twenty years selling mattresses and televisions. A gas station with a rusted awning, dusted with snow. Architecturally speaking, the church was about the most interesting building, but only because it was brick and made up of more than just four flimsy walls. Even that was being generous though. The most exciting thing to happen to Hawkins since the housing development over by Factory Lane thirty years ago was the shopping mall that opened this past summer. Thrilling.

No matter where he drove within a fifty mile radius, it was all the same — a tomb where dreams went to die.

Gripping the steering wheel, he watched the car in front of him make grooves in the dirty slush, hypnotized by the spray off the sides of the tires. It wasn’t until he saw the high school approaching in his peripherals that he even looked up. It always felt good to be on the other side, especially when he wasn’t supposed to be. He could almost see you in there; brushing the chalk off your hands, shifting between your tired feet as you glanced at the clock, gazing out the window with a longing he’d seen in his own reflection — caught sometimes at night in his drivers seat window as he cruised the highway, dreaming of where it could take him.

As the squat fortress faded in his rearview mirror, he pictured you five years from now. Ten. Twenty. Wasting away in front of that chalkboard. Rattling on about stories written by dead people while your own collected dust inside a closet. While your talent withered like the dead, crumpled leaves under the snow; buried and forgotten.

With a hard right onto Prospect, he set out on the final stretch towards home. Sometimes he liked to imagine what might happen if he just kept going, just drove into the sunset and only stopped for gas. He had a vague idea from the movies and the maps that swayed in the wake of Ms. O’Donnell’s lumbering footsteps. Sometimes in the height of his boredom he would lose himself in them, imagine he was at a diner in the desert on his way to a gig with an actual sound system. Because somewhere out there—beyond the flat horizon—there were mountains, and canyons, and cities where names couldn’t follow.

______

“How does it end?” Eddie asked you on Friday between the fourth and fifth period bells. You glanced up from the stack of papers on your desk, cocking your head with narrowing eyes. “Your story,” he clarified.

“Oh.” Blinking, you sat back to ponder. “You know, I don’t think I ever fully decided. Cybelle is in a difficult position. The whole reason she set out on this adventure was to save her brother. I imagine she would want to fulfill her quest, but if she returned to Myrne, it may be difficult to leave again. Plus, she may receive some sort of punishment for leaving in the first place. I had written the laws to be quite strict, if I recall. And then if she chose not to return, her mother would lose two children. No matter what, she loses.”

Eddie furrowed his brow, shifting between his boots with a pained sigh. “I would hardly call a life with Lazarus losing. She seems happy with him.”

“Right, well, of course that would be ideal, but…” you tsked, “it’s complicated, and honestly that’s partially why I abandoned it. I really wrote myself into a corner. Well, that and student teaching started to eat up my time. Then it was finals, and moving, and then after that I met…” you trailed off with a bitter shake of your head. “Anyway, I guess life got in the way. It has a way of doing that, I’ve noticed.”

Eddie looked at you, really looked. You, in your cable knit sweater with pen on your hand and sandbags under your eyes, casting them down over your work with the same amount of hope he’d seen from players rolling threes with even fewer hit points to spare. He racked his brain for something he could offer—a dramatic death speech or a new character sheet—but you weren’t playing and he wasn’t prepared. Any words of comfort forming on the tip of his tongue were swallowed by the ringing bell, and he exited your classroom feeling the same as when he entered; unsatisfied.

______

It was starting to close in around you — the colored lights and ornaments, the mall Santas and fake green swags draping from shop windows. It was the first Christmas you’d truly spent in Hawkins since you graduated college, outside of day trips for visits. Surprisingly little had changed, the main thing being the fact that there even was a mall for Santa to post up in. Duplication must have been one of his many powers because he was still at Sears too, at least he was on Saturday when you dragged yourself out of the oppressive quiet of your apartment and into the bustling chaos.

You had no idea what to get your relatives for Christmas. You never really did, but this year it seemed insurmountable. This year you had no one to bounce ideas off of, and the constant mental chatter left little to no room for inspiration. As you scanned the shelves of cookware and appliquéd dish towels with snow men and reindeers, nothing really seemed to jump out at you.

What did jump out at you—or rather, jumped out at his sister—was a little boy across the aisle hiding in a circular rack of women’s bath robes. Pressing apart the terrycloth like curtains, he would retreat into his makeshift cave to the complete oblivion of his mother, who seemed more preoccupied with the price tags on a set of lingerie than with the whereabouts of her children.

A fantasy tugged at the corners of your mind, more sinfully indulgent than the one you had in class last week involving your desk and Eddie’s tongue. This time the set was the same as the scene before you, only the little boy had a mess of dark curls and Eddie was diving in after him. Not to scold him, but to play. You could almost see those fraying knee holes widening from contact with the carpet. Almost hear the giggles and the shushes and the click of his rings against the metal pole in the center of the rack for balance. You could almost turn around and see them popping out at you, feel the laughter ripple up through your very full belly and into the corners of your eyes as you feigned surprise to both of their delight. You could almost feel the glares from the other shoppers, the regular people eager to get on with their Saturday in peace, same as any other. It wouldn’t matter though, not in your little world.

The real mother in the real world did eventually turn around, grabbing the boy by the wrist and demanding he stay by the cart. Turning a dish towel over in your palms, you lowered your eyes to the machine-embroidered stitching of a corn cob pipe and a button nose as the fantasy disintegrated. You left the store shortly after, your cart just as empty as when you’d arrived.

On Monday it was hard to look him in the eyes. It was easier to meet Diane’s. At least this week you could hold a conversation without crumbling like Ms. Click’s half-eaten fruitcake up for grabs in the teachers lounge. But the coffee was bitter on your tongue, like a lie you were telling yourself.

In accordance with your wishes, there had been no rap of knuckles on your door frame after school, no screeching of chair legs dragged across the tile, only the dull thud of folders sliding into your bag, the surprising click of a magnet under the flap.

On Wednesday you left behind footprints in the parking lot before it had even half cleared, only to be swallowed by the emptiness of your apartment. You filled the space with what you could manage — an early dinner, and an early bedtime. Sleep seemed to be the only thing that quelled the battering ram thoughts, the scales tipping back and forth so much it made you queasy. You would lie there and dream of swirling smoke and plush lips, of arthritic fingers punching numbers on an office phone as you sat and accepted your fate. You would toss and turn, back and forth until your sheets became a tangle, and when you faced the mirror Thursday morning you barely recognized the person staring back.

When the final bell rang on Friday, the hallways cleared out like someone had yelled fire. A mass exodus of students and staff, flowing into the parking lot like a tidal wave outside your classroom window. You watched them as snow fell in clumps, as bright colored backpacks disappeared into the back of sedans, as cars peeled out like a parade into the street.

Assessing the paper mountain range framing your desk, you made an educated guess at how you would be spending your two week break. In hindsight, it might have helped to make the due date for the senior creative writing project last Friday instead, but deep down you knew you would have hardly made a dent by now.

When Ms. Click popped her head in to wish you a merry Christmas on her way down the hall, she seemed surprised to find your hand still moving across paper, not swaddled in mittens like hers. You brushed it off with something casual, the type of thing any regular person would say before the holidays. That it was too much to take home. That getting work finished now would leave more time with your family. You omitted the more personal details like how empty your apartment felt and the small, naked tree your mother brought over last weekend. This seemed to placate her, and with a cheery wave she left you in the silence of your classroom with only the ruffling of paper for company.

It was eery how quiet it was, but it afforded you a small hill of graded papers in the last hour, double what you would typically accomplish in front of the television. Thumbing through what remained of that stack, you counted each staple. Five, six, seven… you stopped when a certain name jumped out in MLA format.

Eddie Munson American Literature — 4th Period 20 December 1985

No title.

Papers fluttered to the desk as they fell from your hands, leaving only his. You held it gingerly between your fingers, as if it was alive. As if it could feel you, or rather, you could feel him through every type-written letter, through the thumb-sized grease stain in the top righthand corner. You could almost hear him too, shifting into a deep, dramatic narration.

Mount Myrne loomed on the horizon like a dark omen. Towering over the bustling docks of Torgaard, it disappeared beneath the ominous clouds with a formidable presence. Merchants scattered about, hauling their wares in heavy crates and barrels onto the many zeppelins.

This was where Lazarus first met Cybelle. In his mind’s eye he could almost see her stumbling about in her clean silk boots and glimmering gold coat. But her appearance today told a different tale. Her boots were caked with mud, her coat was splattered with muck and tattered by claws, her mask hung crooked on her face. Those large eyes that once glimmered with hope and wonder now stared off into the distance with oppressive sadness at the looming mountain.

This was where he was supposed to leave her. This was what they had agreed upon many moons ago. Cybelle just stood there, shifting back and forth between her tired feet as she dug her thumbs under the straps of her heavy knapsack that now held the rare and precious ghostfern. She finally had what she came for. Any moment now she would be moving those muddy boots toward the docks and use what little coin she had to barter a one-way trip back home.

That was the plan anyway..

Cybelle was frozen though. Fearfully, woefully, bitterly, she gazed upon her gold gleaming home in the sky with a sadness that was only dwarfed by Lazarus looking down at her. He looked at her beautiful face like it was the last time he was ever going to get the chance to. He memorized it in his mind as he shuffled his own dirty boots against the cobblestone. He didn’t have eyes for anything else. Not the zeppelins, nor the merchants, nor the mountain. Only her. After a moment that felt like an eon, Cybelle took a step forward.

“Wait.” said Lazarus. Cybelle turned around with surprise but also a hint of relief. “You don’t have to do this.”

Cybelle looked up at him with a mournful frown. “Of course I do, my brother will die if I stay here.”

Lazarus shook his head bitterly. “No, he will die if the ghostfern stays here.” he said.

Cybelle sighed as she looked out across the docks, “But how is it going to get there if I do not deliver it? No one is allowed within the city walls if they are not from Myrne.”

Lazarus furrowed his brow as he watched the merchants at work, hauling their wares aboard the large, formidable aircrafts. Suddenly he had an idea. “There are docks in Myrne, correct? And Myrnish merchants who take goods into the city?”

The gears were starting to turn in Cybelle’s head. “Yes, there are.”

“Well then, can we send the plant with like, a note or something? Some instructions and directions for the merchant to take where it needs to go?”

Cybelle thought for a moment. “I do know a few of the merchants by name. Arturo and I grew up together. He was my neighbor for a long time. He would know where it needs to go, and my mother would know what to do with it.” The brightness in Cybelle’s eyes dimmed suddenly as she had another thought. “But… I would never seen them again. My family.”

“Never say never, Cybelle.” Lazarus said. “Do you know that for a fact?”

Cybelle frowned heavily, “The laws in Myrne are very strict.”

“What if in the letter you told your family to meet you on the docks some other time? Perhaps in another moon or two once your brother has recovered?” Lazarus offered.

Cybelle sighed bitterly, “Only merchants are allowed on the docks. It is strictly prohibited. I was only able to come here because I snuck inside a crate. It was a miracle that they didn’t notice me.”

Lazarus kicked a stray pebble and huffed. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I cannot tell you what to do, Cybelle. Only you can make that choice. But what I can do, really the only thing I can do, is tell you how I feel.”

All of a sudden there was a knot in his stomach. Because if he was going to say anything he knew that this would be his last chance..

“All my life I’ve dreamed about that cottage by the sea with the garden, and the bed, and the omlet. When I saw that pendant you were wearing I knew that it would be my only shot at ever getting what I wanted. Magic tricks are….. not exactly lucrative. And actually, if I’m going to be totally honest here, I figure you should know the truth about me. The whole truth.” Lazarus sighed, swallowing the bile creeping up his throat at the mention of the truth. He was going to be honest though. Maybe for once in his whole life. “This is difficult for me to say, but I owe it to you if nothing else. I’m a thief, Cybelle.”

Lazarus winced at his own words and Cybelle’s fallen expression, but he bravely continued..

“I confess that for a moment when I first saw you I thought about stealing that pendant, but once I heard your story and saw so much of my own I simply couldn’t. There is a goodness in you that I admire, how selfless and pure your cause is. Over the course of the last few moons I have had the privilege of spending with you, I have come to discover how beautiful the woman beneath the mask truly is. How kind, and curious, and patient you are. I have been all over this land. Traveled far and wide, through forests and over mountains. I have swam in lakes and oceans and gazed out over countless valleys. But never has the world looked quite so hopeful than when I saw it through your eyes. It made me believe that if you could see the beauty there, if you could see the goodness in me, then perhaps I can as well.”

It was startling — the tear that leapt over your lash line. Violently enough to hit the page, to blur the Os in goodness.

“If you choose to stay I promise you that I will never steal another coin or pocket watch. It may leave me poor for the rest of my days but if they’re spent with you, then I would be the richest man of all. It is all that I can offer you. My honesty, and a promise that I will show you more beaches, more mountains, more of the world than you could ever imagine. And since I intend to keep my promise, here is my honesty: I love you. Regardless of what you decide.”

With a trembling hand, you turned the page only to discover there was nothing on the back. Sitting back in your seat with a ragged sigh, you stared out into your empty classroom. Your nose stung, fluorescents flaring in your tear-blurred vision. Separating the pages with your thumb, you flipped back and read it again. The last paragraph. The last two sentences. Those three type-written words. Over and over, wedging in the cracks of your armor as your sniffles echoed off the tile.

The sun was dipping below the treeline, flooding the near-empty parking lot with a wash of somber pink. The snowfall had ceased, settled into the footprints and tire tracks. Glancing up at the clock and back down at the papers, you tried to imagine lifting another, scanning over sentences and writing in the margins like you hadn’t been completely upended by the one that trembled in your grasp. You couldn’t.

Tears dripped down your cheeks as you donned your coat, as you shuffled overstuffed folders into your satchel and slung its weight over your shoulder. You swiped at them with your scratchy wool sleeve, flicking off the lights and shutting the door.

The soft pink had cooled to twilight blue when your boots met the blanket of snow, leaving tracks in the clean, fresh powder. Your breath trailed behind you in heavy clouds. It was quiet here too, barely a scattering of cars in the parking lot. Not even the wind disturbed the limbs of the orderly saplings between the curb and sidewalk, dusted with a glittering powder.

Your hands found your keys, and the key found the hole, and soon you were sliding into your frigid leather seat, tossing the weight of your satchel on the passenger’s side with a dejected thump. You sat there a moment with only your breath for company before flicking your wrist at the ignition.

Nothing.

Stomping on the break, you lurched forward with conviction this time, as if you could convince it you were serious. All it awarded you was a weak, persistent click. It’s fine, you told yourself through gritted teeth as you lunged again, snapping your wrist with a startling anger, like the seal had been cracked on a two liter pop bottle that had rolled around in the trunk for a week and a half. Still, nothing but a pathetic click. A split second thought crossed your mind—that the ferocity of your stomp might actually damage the car—but the logic was quickly snuffed out by your rage. The hard plastic key bit into your numb fingers. Over and over — stomping, twisting, cursing. Cursing yourself most of all for being stupid enough to let this continue for months. You were paying for it now.

The tears were already waiting, primed behind your eyeballs, hardly dried on your cheeks when you left out the back door. They spilled over again, cooling as they dripped past your lashes, down the slope of your nose. One more time, you begged. Just one more time and I’ll be good, I swear. But the white Chevy Nova sat unmoved, offering only a vacant whine where there should have been a roar. You tossed back in your seat and huffed, chest heaving, filling the cramped space with the furious steam of your breath.

Snowflakes glittered in the floodlights, shining like flares through the blur of your tears. It might have been beautiful on any other evening — one where the engine was warm, and your mind was clear, and your heart didn’t sink like a pit in your chest. It was hard to notice anything outside your bitter sobs, most especially the shadow that appeared in the window beside you. The rap of rings on the glass had you jumping, whipping your head to face the set of eyes you’d been avoiding most of all.

“Need some help?” Eddie offered, bracing his knees in a crouch, eyes brimming with concern.

Your stomach twisted with relief, then embarrassment, then a million other things rolled into one, sick knot. Wiping the evidence from your cheeks with a futile swipe of your sleeve, you cranked down the window with your left hand. You must have looked like an absolute basket case, jerking your arm in tight circles as the barrier lowered with the urgency of a tortoise. When where was enough space for him, Eddie braced against the top of your door and ducked his head inside.

“Hey.” The warm sigh of his greeting kissed your cheek, thawing the sting of the cold.

“Hey,” you mimicked, sounding just about as stable as you felt when it came out. “W-what are you doing here so late?”

“Hellfire,” he stated simply. “You know, I could ask you the same question.”

Despite how true it was, it still felt pathetic when the answer left your lips. “Just… trying not to take so much work home with me.” You said it as casually as you could muster, but your voice betrayed you. Your cheeks were still cooling from the remnants of your tears, framing the heat from your dripping nose.

Eddie suddenly looked very serious, splintering your armor with his softness. “You ok?”

You gestured dejectedly at nothing, offering a hollow laugh. “No.”

Eddie filled the cabin with his sigh, eyes narrowing like he wanted to lunge through the window. Instead he just thumbed at the rubber and tipped his head closer, creaking your chest plate with the weight of his gaze. “You know, I could hear you clear across the parking lot,” he joked softly. “The car—I mean. Mostly. You leave your lights on or something?”

You shook your head. “It’s been doing this for months, ever since it started getting cold. I should have taken it to get checked out, but it usually starts after a couple tries.”

“Sounds like it might be the battery, or maybe the starter. I won’t know unless I try and jump it. I’ll swing around—if—if that’s ok.”

The wind ushered a curl toward his lips, and you clenched your hand to subdue it. “Yeah, it’s ok,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

With a nod, Eddie ducked out of the window and pivoted swiftly on his heels. From your side view mirror, you watched him make tracks in the blue snow with his heavy boots, hands shoved in his pockets as he glanced left and right, the ghost of his breath trailing closely behind. The seat creaked as you sat back and blinked like the cursor on a computer monitor; processing. One glance in your rearview mirror told you how disheveled you looked. Even in the twilight there was no masking the puffiness around your eyes, the mascara bleeding toward your cheeks. You swiped at them again, this time with a napkin from your glove box.

With a yank of the frigid handle, Eddie slid across the plaid and pleather padding into the drivers seat of his van. He froze for a second, glancing in his rearview mirror toward your small white sedan. Butterflies tore through his stomach, churning like a tornado as he flicked the ignition. Out of all his ridiculous fantasies, he hadn’t entertained this one. Not exactly anyway. One where you were the damsel in distress. One where he got to be the hero.

The parking lot was vacant enough to drive across the lines. Ploughing through the naked patches where cars had spent the afternoon, he rumbled up beside you. Your stomach did a summersault when he stepped out, plodding around to the front of your car with jumper cables slung under his arm.

“Can you pop the hood for me?” he asked.

The summersault rippled south through your abdomen. Reaching down under the console, your fingers found the leaver and obeyed. You felt kind of useless, just sitting there while he propped the hood onto the stand, shielding him from vision. Before you could form another thought, your hand was moving on its own, finding the plastic leaver of your door and opening it to the cold evening air.

Eddie gave a shy look from behind his curtain of curls before stepping back with a nod. “Well, good news, there’s no monsters,” he joked.

A smile cracked across your face, so genuine it almost felt foreign. You tucked your hands into your pockets, stepping closer to assess the engine like you knew what you were looking at. Your aura prickled with proximity, like his heat could thaw you even from where you stood. Eddie’s glance was soft and quick before procuring a small flashlight from his inner coat pocket. He held it in his teeth, flipping up the red and black plastic covers on the battery terminals.

“I have hands too, you know,” you said with a smirk.

With a playful side-eye, he clamped the appropriate cables onto the terminals. Removing the silver torch from his mouth, he made room for his retort. “Mmhm, best keep ��em warm. It’s uh, kinda chilly out.”

You shook your head as a laugh escaped your nostrils in a plume. Sauntering over to his van like a dark knight, Eddie leaned in the door to pop his own hood. Your boots made tentative tracks in the snow, drawn like a magnet as he hoisted the metal. From the light pinched in his teeth you could see the expanse of the massive engine, the shadow of his furrowed brow as he unscrewed plastic knobs. What you saw more than anything though—like a filter laid over the scene—were three type-written letters. The hands that typed them fumbled with the cables, squeezed around the thick, jaw-like clamps. When they bit right where he wanted, they released; tendons flexing, knuckles pinking from the freezing air. Reflexively, he wiped them on the chest of his black hoodie peeking out from his open coat.

It might have just been the cold, but even in the twilight—in the absence of the flashlight he was tucking into his pocket—you could have sworn his cheeks flushed when he caught you staring. “Alright, um, go ahead and start your car. I’ll do the same.”

Following the tether that joined the two vehicles, you did as he told you. Nothing came of it though, just more incessant clicking. Exasperated, you tossed back in your seat before slumping out of the car once more.

“Shit, it must be the starter. Probably cracked, that’s my guess anyway by the sound of it,” Eddie explained as he stepped around to face your engine again. Clicking his flashlight, he peered into the compartment. “See, if you follow the positive terminal line all the way down, that’s where the starter will be. Only problem is it’s tricky to get to without a lift.”

You followed his grease-stained finger down the dirt-dusted tangle of tubes, drawing nearer under the subtle guise of interest in your engine. You stopped just inches from his solid leather frame, close enough to brush him with your elbow. “You seem to know your way around a car.”

He huffed, shaking his head as he muttered. “Wish I didn’t.” But before you could comment, he was shutting the hood. “I’m sorry, but I think we’re gonna have to call a tow truck.”

Your defeated sigh rose toward the clouds as you glanced at the squat school building. The lights were off. Judy’s car was absent from the lot, as were all but a handful, including the two of yours. Glancing at your watch under the floodlights, the big hand tipped past the golden dot where a five should be.

Eddie stepped closer, filling the gap with a heavy exhale before meeting your eyes. “You know I could, um—” he scratched the back of his neck, words evaporating quicker than his breath. What could he do? What could he really do about any of this? For most of his life he’d been a leaf on the wind, scuttling across the pavement toward the gutter, struggling to steer himself away. But you were stranded, and if there was anything he was good for, it was a ride. “I could—I could take you back to your place. If you’re ok with that, I mean. We could—fuck—I mean you could call from there a-and I could—”

There were chinks in your armor, cracking with each bumbling word. You looked at him, really looked. Eddie Munson, with grease-stained hands and eyes that pierced like arrows in their pleading. Straight through to the softest part of you, the place between your ribs that cries I want. And oh, how desperately you wanted. Wanted to soothe his worried lips in yours again, to feel his pounding chest again, to be thawed by his heat again. But you just stood there, frozen.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his open coat, he shifted on the balls of his feet as he searched for more words in the snow. “Look, I know you said you wanted space, a-and it probably seems like—shit.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing with a sharp sigh. “I just want to help you. Will you just let me help you? Please?”

Your chest plate clattered to the concrete, gauntlets falling in a heap beside your greaves. There was no white flag to wave. No sword to relinquish, or shield to discard. Your surrender was nothing but a soft “okay,” barely heard above the howling wind.

______

A/N: After over a year and 100k words, the smut chapter is finally upon us! Thank you for coming with me on this very long journey and sticking it out. I have no idea how long this next one is going to take me to write, but I can promise you that when it’s finished you will experience every moment in exquisite, delicious, poetic detail.

You might have noticed that I’ve pulled a few small details like character names and places from Flight of Icarus, but I will not be retconning any of Eddie’s backstory.

Also random, tumblr decided to make that one paragraph bold once I changed it to chat font with no ability to unbold it, but that wasn't intended. It kind of worked though so I'm not mad.

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @raccoonboywrites @storiesbyrhi @trashmouth-richie @keeponquinning @munson-blurbs @blueywrites @alottanothing @bebe07011 @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @mrsjellymunson @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @big-ope-vibes @barbiedragon @ladylilylost @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @chaoticgood-munson @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi @sllooney @lunaladybug734 @callingmrsbarnes @ajkamins

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson older reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x teacher!reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson angst #don't stand so close to me #dssctm

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