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waywardrose · 3 months

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THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY 27

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated e

6.9k

spotify playlist

for @punk-in-docs

fem/witch/goth!reader, sweetheart!eddie, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, blood, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, break-ups, running away, guns, fist fighting, everyone survives, suicide ideation, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird? Weird weird? He shrugged. He liked weird. In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: This was going to be the last chapter, but it's too long. I'm splitting it and posting what's completed. Expect a last chapter and epilogue. Thank you for sticking with me!

The doorbell chime made him start, which was stupid. An invasion wouldn’t start with someone ringing the goddamn doorbell. He stared unseeing at the den’s television while MTV went to commercial.

Also, he should be used to the noise. Steve’s house was a hub of activity, between the phone ringing and the doorbell going off and people talking.

Footsteps thumped overhead. He identified that as the man of the house himself walking to the front door. A moment later, multiple voices, all male, rumbled from the foyer. Several pairs of footsteps moved farther into the house.

Then your voice joined the mix. He couldn’t gauge your tone, other than you weren’t pissed. He turned down the TV volume and frowned at the basement ceiling when you kept talking. A male voice said something you replied to.

Eddie eased from the sectional couch and padded to the foot of the stairs. Of course, it didn’t gain him anything. The door at the top remained closed, muffling any conversation. He considered creeping up the stairs, but he didn’t know where the creaks hid in the treads.

He put a knee on the third tread and crawled forward to half-lay on the stairs. Now midway to the door, he could distinguish between the voices. Yours, of course, Steve’s every so often, then three others.

No one sounded defensive or upset, so that eased his mind. Somewhat.

Everyone kept talking, though. He racked his brain for what they could be discussing. It probably had something to do with yesterday’s visit. He hoped it wasn’t government officials who’d changed their minds about not dragging him to prison. Or worse yet, to some underground lab to conduct experiments on him.

What if they were here for you, though?

Maybe they’d figured out you had magic and wanted you to do stuff for them. While in their clutches, they’d take bio-samples from you. They’d clone you — was that even possible? — or make babies in petri dishes — that had to be possible — to grow a whole witch army and take over the world.

Of course, the thought of having a second you intrigued him. Would a clone kiss like you? Taste like you? Would she moan like you do when he sinks inside her? Would one of you sit on his face while the other rode his dick?

His cock grew heavy and hot in his borrowed briefs.

Jesus H. Christ, he chided. Fucking focus.

It was quiet. Too quiet. He strained to hear what was going on.

Soft footsteps shuffled near.

He shot off the stairs and turned towards the TV. He couldn’t be discovered hanging around near the stairs with a half-chub like a perv. And the sleep-pants did nothing to hide it. His gaze darted to the VHS tape storage cabinet by the TV.

That would work.

He careened around the scuffed coffee table. The loops of the cable-box controller tangled around his foot. Like Gandalf in the Balrog’s whip, he’d been caught.

He hissed, “Shit, shit, shit,” as he hopped to the cabinet, shaking his foot free.

The basement door opened. He grabbed the cabinet for balance. A drawer of tapes wobbled open. He shoved it closed. Tapes clattered. Whoever opened the drawer next was going to have to repack it. Whoops. But it was cool. Everything was cool. He checked his crotch. His half-chub had subsided.

“Eddie?” you said as you descended the stairs.

He faced you, propping an elbow on top of the cabinet.

You’d changed into those black jeans he liked. They hugged your thighs and ass. He willed his dick to stay soft.

“Hey, hi, what’s up?”

You gave him a curious look as you stepped down into the basement.

“You okay?”

He waved a hand in a general sort of way.

“Other than, you know, everything, yeah, I’m okay.”

You nodded, though he could tell you knew something was off.

He said, “I was going to pick out a movie.” He glanced at the stairs. “Is everything okay up there?”

You approached him like he was a cornered dog.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, but don’t freak out—”

“Freak out about what?” he asked, warning sirens blaring through his mind.

“The police are here, and they want to take your statement.”

He straightened.

“Statement about what?”

“The night Chrissy died.” You held up your hands before he could protest. “I just gave them my statement about my interactions with Jason Carver. Who is dead.” With eyes wide, you gave him a leading look and head tilt. “I know you’ve had interactions with Jason, too.”

He nodded along as the implication clicked into place.

“Yeah, I’ve had interactions with Carver.”

“You want to give a statement to the police about that night with Jason and Chrissy?”

No, he did not, yet if he didn’t, he’d never be free. Vecna would continue to ruin his life. While Eddie still wasn’t sure about the existence of an afterlife, he wouldn’t give that asshat the satisfaction.

He girded his metaphorical loins — why did everything circle back to his crotch? — and headed upstairs. You walked behind him, not crowding him, but close enough to be supportive. He wanted to look at you, really look at you, and confess his love again. Just in case this all fell apart. There wasn’t time — and he was certain if he did, he’d wuss-out. Compound that with the fact he couldn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, he’d definitely wuss-out.

Taking two steps into the living room, he froze. He must be hallucinating. Chief Hopper, the very one who’d been there at Dad’s arrest, who supposedly died in the Starcourt fire, stood by the dining table. Though there was considerably less of him around the middle, his hair was buzzed short, and he looked like he’d lost a fight with the Wolfman, there was no question it was him.

Chief Powell sat at the table, facing the room. Metal crutches had been propped against the table next to him. Eddie recognized the deputy who stood at Powell’s left. He couldn’t recall a name, but he’d seen the deputy around town.

Steve leaned a shoulder on the tall curio cabinet behind the table. It was a King Steve pose he’d observed many a time at school. The sling and bandages were absent, courtesy of you.

You stepped beside Eddie and took his numb hand. On instinct, he curled his fingers around yours.

Hopper stepped forward, expression calm and hands placating.

“You’re not in trouble, kid.”

If it had come from anyone else, he’d consider it a lie. For a cop, Hopper had been a decent one. He’d ignored Eddie’s underage drinking at the Hideaway. He’d issued warnings instead of speeding tickets.

You turned your head to whisper, “I won’t let them take you even if they try.”

He gave a minute nod before releasing your hand and marching to the table. If they tried to arrest him, he hoped he’d retained that undead speed. He pulled out the chair across from Powell to sit.

You went to stand by Steve, who gave you a warm look. If anything happened, Eddie knew Steve would protect you and vice versa.

Powell cleared his throat and pressed the Record button on the cassette recorder to start the interrogation.

“Chief Calvin Powell and former Chief Jim Hopper speaking with Edward Munson, Monday, March 31st, 1986.” To Eddie, he said, “Mr. Munson, you’re not under arrest. All we want is your account of what happened the night of March 21st.” When he nodded, Powell said as an aside, “Note Mr. Munson nodded in understanding.” He continued, “We have multiple statements from witnesses placing you at Hawkins High School during the basketball game that night. We also have several overlapping accounts attesting to Jason Carver threatening them at gunpoint at a later date.”

Eddie nodded again, wanting to say that didn’t surprise him. However, Dad’s warning to never talk to cops kept him silent. “These folks stated Jason Carver said he’d sacrifice them for this town. They claim he’d wanted to break their bones. Does that sound like something he could do?”

Eddie glanced at you and Steve. If he followed Dad’s warning, he’d never get out of this. Of course, he didn’t have to give them everything at once. That would be out of character. He had to think like a DM and give them just enough to lead them where the party wanted them to go.

“Yeah, along with pinning all those murders on me,” he said.

Planting his elbows on a nearby chair back, Hopper said, “Sounds like he had the whole town fooled.”

He bobbed his head in agreement.

“I heard he hijacked a town hall meeting.”

Powell shifted in his seat.

“Mr. Munson, did Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham enter your home the night of March 21st?”

“Yes.”

“Do you recall the time?”

“No, not exactly.” He glanced up in thought. “I guess after ten?”

“What were they doing there?”

“Said they wanted drugs.”

“Did you sell them drugs?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have drugs.”

Which he didn’t. Now.

“But they thought you had drugs to sell?”

He met Powell’s gaze and said, “I can’t presume to know what they thought.”

Powell sighed, frustration clear.

“Alright. Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham enter your house sometime after ten, looking to purchase drugs. Then what?”

“I left them in the living room.”

Just like he’d left Chrissy for Vecna to kill. Bait on a hook.

“To do what?”

“Get my cigarettes.”

He could do with one right about now.

“Why would you get your cigarettes?”

“Why does anyone get cigarettes?” He shrugged with a huff. “I wanted a smoke, and I forgot them in my room.”

“Then what happened?”

He rolled his shoulders as if uncomfortable.

“They began arguing.”

“About?”

“I don’t know. I was still in my room.”

“But you know they were arguing?”

“Yeah, Jason raised his voice at Chrissy.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I grabbed my cigarettes and came back to the living room.”

“Did you step in?” Powell angled his head. “Try to intervene?”

“No, it was too late—”

“Too late?”

“Look, he was yelling at her. She said something. Might’ve been his name, I don’t know. Then it got quiet, and then I heard a real loud thump. When I came out, Chrissy was on the floor.”

Instead of floating midair.

“Alive?”

“I don’t know, but she wasn’t moving.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I wanted to go to her, but Jason was…” He shook his head, remembering how intense Carver could get. “Jason was out of his mind.”

“What do you mean, out of his mind?”

“He was, like, in a rage. Scared the shit outta me.”

“How so?”

“He screamed and pounded on his chest.” He mimicked what he saw in his mind, knocking his fist against his breastbone. “His eyes were wild, like something else was behind them.”

“Something else?”

He blew out a breath. This was make-or-break in the story.

“I’m not religious or anything, but he looked… He looked fucking possessed.” He rubbed his forehead. “I know how this sounds, okay? I know this sounds crazy.”

It was quiet for a moment before Powell asked, “Did Jason Carver have the same reaction the night of March 25th at Lover’s Lake?”

“I don’t know. He and—uh…” He snapped his fingers as though trying to recall. “A teammate?”

“Patrick McKinney.”

“McKinney, yeah. They were in the water, coming after me.”

“Where were you?”

“In a fishing boat, trying to get away from them, but I lost my balance and fell in the water.”

“Did you see what happened to Patrick?”

“No, I was swimming away from them.”

Powell nodded in acceptance.

“Okay, back to March 21st: Jason and Chrissy. Jason was screaming, and Chrissy was on the floor.”

“Yeah, I wanted to go to her.” He looked at the table, muttering, “I wanted to save her. Get her away from him.”

He’d tried to do it. He’d shaken her shoulders and yelled for her to wake up, snap out of it, anything, but Vecna’s hold was too powerful. Whatever she’d needed to break the curse, he hadn’t had it.

“What did Jason do?” asked Powell.

“He came after me. He chased me out of the living room.”

“Where did you go?”

“I ran out of the trailer.”

“Did you go to a neighbor?”

“No, I got in my van and left the trailer park.”

“Why didn’t you report this to the police?”

He threw a glance at Hopper. He suspected Hopper would’ve taken him seriously, but that hadn’t been a possibility. Everyone thought Hopper was dead. Including himself.

“Like any of you would’ve believed me — the son of a convicted car thief, trailer trash, a super senior, a freak — over Hawkins’ golden boy, the captain of the basketball team.”

Powell and the deputy looked equal parts uncomfortable and insulted.

Good.

“So, yeah,” he said. “I ran and hid, and Jason kept chasing me.”

While you morons stood around with your heads up your asses.

“Why do you think he did that?” Powell asked.

“Probably because I saw him hurt Chrissy. I was the only witness. Get rid of me, one way or another, and no one would ever know what he’d done.”

Powell shared a look with the deputy, whose face was unreadable. Powell saw something there, though, and turned to him.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Munson. We’d appreciate it if you stayed in town until we conclude our investigation.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

He didn’t know where he’d go or how he’d get there. He’d hidden his van in the woods off Coal Mill Road. He needed to retrieve it, but not until it was safe to leave this house. Also, he didn’t know where Wayne was, or if he’d survived. The thought made his insides shrivel and tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.

Hopper clapped him on the back, knocking him into the present. The cassette recorder was gone.

“Glad you’re still with us, kid.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Powell arranged his crutches to stand. The deputy assisted, while Steve straightened to show them to the front door. Powell shuffled around the table, his right leg supported at an angle.

Eddie felt your concerned focus directed at him, but he couldn’t indulge himself. Instead, he watched Steve lead the police to the door. Something compelled him out of his chair and moving towards them.

“Hey, Hop,” he said.

Hopper faced him, heavy brow lifted in interest.

“Wayne— Have you seen— I mean, do you know if my uncle’s alive?”

Hopper contemplated the question for a second.

“No, but I think I know who might.” He jutted his chin in a reassuring way. “I’ll give ‘em a call.”

“Thanks.”

Hopper nodded before jogging to catch up with Powell and the deputy outside. He said something to Steve in passing that made Steve grin.

Once Steve shut the door, Eddie dragged his ass to the table and flopped into his chair.

“Jesus, fuck…”

You asked, “Want a beer?”

He rubbed at his eyes, saying, “That’s a good start.”

“Holy shit,” Robin said from her seat at the kitchen island.

You kept smearing melting butter on your toast. Steve grunted in front of the gurgling coffee maker. Eddie, who sat across from her, remained quiet.

You’d learned Robin said ‘holy shit’ about a lot of things.

“Guys,” she said with a flap of the morning newspaper. “Guys, look at this.”

Steve abandoned his vigil to see what Robin was holy-shit-ing about. You took a bite of toast and turned. His eyes widened when he read what Robin had pointed out.

“Holy shit.”

Eddie, chin in hand, hummed as he stared at the window over the sink. However, your curiosity had been piqued. You stopped beside Eddie, anticipating Steve sliding the newspaper in front of you. When he did, you swallowed and stared at the headline:

DEVELOPMENT IN LOCAL TEEN MURDERS

You scanned the article. It mentioned the nationwide Satanic panic and how citizens had been led to believe a local cult was sacrificing children to the Devil. The writer praised cooler heads, namely Chief Powell and his deputies, who continued to investigate despite the earthquake and subsequent volcanic fissure eruption.

Ah, you thought, that was how they were covering up the destruction near the closed nexus.

Chief Powell was quoted:

“There is irrefutable evidence Edward Munson is the victim of false accusations. This office has cooperated with federal investigators and spoken with numerous local, credible witnesses to determine such a conclusion.”

Despite police not identifying a person of interest, the writer insinuated the actual murderer might be amongst those who had advocated for hunting down Eddie. They speculated the public accusations against Eddie had been a diversion. While the police investigation remained ongoing, an insider let slip police were closing in on a suspect.

The writer went on to report neither local nor federal investigations uncovered any cult, Satanic or otherwise, in the area. Of course, citizens were welcome to report any cult activity to the sheriff’s office. The article ended with the newspaper promising to keep readers informed.

Holy shit.

“Eddie,” you said, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Read this.”

He blinked a few times before pulling his attention away from the window. With a concerned look, he glanced around the island.

“What?”

You pushed the newspaper in front of him and tapped a finger on the headline. He perused the accompanying article, eyes widening as he read.

To Steve, you said, “Better call Nancy.”

He nodded and dialed Nancy’s number on the kitchen phone. After a playful exchange with Mrs. Wheeler, during which Robin rolled her eyes, Steve’s manner turned serious. From listening to half of the conversation, you deduced Nancy had seen the article. He mentioned Dr. Owens, along with Jason Carver. Nancy said more about Jason, but you couldn’t make out her words.

Steve nodded as she spoke, though. When he hung up, you gave him an expectant look.

“The Feds found Jason Carver’s body. Or what’s left of it. His gun’s missing, but there were bullet casings nearby. Nance told Owens about Carver at The WarZone buying a gun, so that’s a lead for them.”

“It corroborates my story about him, too,” you said.

“And the Sinclairs’,” Robin said, leaning an elbow on the island.

After she’d returned to Steve’s last night, she told you, Eddie, and Steve about the police collecting statements from Lucas and Erica. Their statements had led to yours, then Eddie’s. Maybe others’. Who knows how many people Jason had terrorized after Chrissy’s murder.

You nodded as you pondered how many doors he’d knocked on before coming to yours. It was fortunate he’d found you before Mom. If he’d confronted her instead of you, she’d know all about you and Eddie. It’s funny how you’d been debating on introducing him that day. Eddie still had no idea.

Eddie slid from his stool, mumbling something about a shower. You watched him leave the kitchen. While you’d give him privacy, you first needed to tell him. It was an urge, like a hand pushing at the middle of your back.

He was halfway up the stairs when you reached him.

“Eddie, hang on.”

He stopped without turning to face you, hand on the railing.

“What?”

“The Saturday after Chrissy was killed…”

“Yeah?”

“Jason came looking for you.” When he said nothing, you continued, “I was out front planting—”

“Why’re you telling me this?”

“It’s called backstory.”

He turned his head enough for you to see his jaw around his hair, yet he remained quiet.

“He called me your girlfriend.”

“And I bet a whole bunch of other things.”

You sighed, though you remembered Jason’s accusations.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters was my plan for that day.”

“Plan?”

“I wanted to introduce you as my boyfriend to my mom when you picked me up. I was going to run it by you first, of course, but I wanted to.”

Voice dripping with sarcasm, he said, “Well, the pressure’s off now, isn’t it? They’re out of town for the foreseeable future, right?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Your mouth fell open as he stomped from view.

What an asshole thing to say. You’d been trying your best this entire goddamn time.

“I hope your shower sucks,” you snapped, climbing the rest of the stairs.

His bedroom door closed with a definitive click.

You went to your room and shut the door. If he wanted to be a little brat about it, let him. All you’d wanted to do was tell him the truth. You understood he’d had the worst week and a half in the history of the world. You’d cut him some slack, but you were no doormat.

Maybe it was too little too late, though, and maybe he didn’t need to know. You sat on the bed and wiped at your stinging eyes. Why did you have to bring this up now? Of all times? It was just… It was just that you wanted him to know you’d… Been serious about him? Remained serious about him? That you’d never been embarrassed to be with him?

But shit, he’d been the one who wanted to pause the relationship. If he hadn’t, you would’ve introduced him much sooner. Sure, your father wouldn’t have been supportive, but no one you’d ever associated with ever met with his approval. He hadn’t liked your friends in New York. You weren’t sure you liked your friends in New York anymore, either.

Mom would’ve been more open-minded, though.

Dammit, you needed to call them.

It would still be foolish to call from Steve’s house. You could call from the hospital’s payphone again. You thought you remembered one in front of Bradley’s. With all the extra people Steve had been hosting and feeding, you assumed he needed groceries. A visit to Bradley’s would take care of both issues.

You changed into street clothes and slung your purse over your shoulder before heading downstairs. Steve and Robin sat at the kitchen island, chatting between spoonfuls of cereal. It reminded you of hearing their voices in the middle of the night. It made you miss Eddie even though he was only upstairs.

Greeting them with a soft “hey,” you volunteered to do a grocery run. Steve fumbled his spoon when you asked for a shopping list. Milk sloshed onto the counter. He wiped at the spill with the hem of his t-shirt.

Robin watched him with exasperation before fetching a paper towel.

“That shirt’s going to smell so bad tomorrow.”

He snatched the paper towel from her hand, saying, “You’re going to smell so bad tomorrow.”

“Real mature, dingus.”

He aimed a goofy sneer at her.

After cleaning the spill, he finished the shopping list and retrieved some cash. Robin offered money, but you and Steve refused to accept it. With their hours at Family Video reduced, and Robin’s parents making her pay for her band equipment, it didn’t feel right. You and Steve weren’t hurting for money, in any case.

“Remember, we’ll be gone by the time you get back,” he said, handing you the list and money.

You nodded and pocketed both. They were volunteering at the school, which was kind of them. It was also convenient for you since you’d probably argue with Eddie when you returned. He’d acted like a brat and deserved a spanking like one.

“Maybe I’ll join you two tomorrow?”

“That would be awesome,” said Robin, perking up and scooping soggy Cheerios from her bowl. “You can make meals with me and Vickie.”

“Cool.” You gave her a teasing look. “I want to meet Vickie and hear all about you two in Band.”

Robin blushed, hands fluttering. An arc of milk and cereal splashed across the counter.

Steve laughed, “God, Robin!”

“Shit, sorry!”

With a chuckle, you wished them a good day and left the kitchen. You didn’t want to be the next thing they flung milk on. As you crossed the living room, you noted Eddie’s closed door. That was fine by you. He should stay in there and chill the hell out.

On the drive to Bradley’s, you mulled over what to tell your parents. You couldn’t say you wanted to stay because of your boyfriend, who they didn’t know existed, or that said boyfriend was the accused cult leader everyone in town had been hunting. You couldn’t say you hated Hawkins, but the thought of leaving right now made you want to cry. And you certainly couldn’t say you were bunking with the flirty clerk from Family Video.

Bradley’s half-full parking lot was a strange sight for a Tuesday. With the ads in the windows exclaiming Two For Tuesday, you expected a swarm of shoppers. Then again, half of Hawkins had fled less than a week ago.

You bought two cans of generic soda from the machine out front with a couple of dollars. That supplied plenty of coins to make a long-distance call. You carried the sodas to the car. They’d be nice with lunch. Which was a meal. And Robin had invited you to volunteer making meals with her and Vickie.

Volunteering was a decent excuse to stay.

You deposited the sodas in the car’s drink holders and rushed to the payphone. After paying and dialing the Cincinnati number, the line rang twice before Mom answered. She sounded relieved to hear from you and asked after your car. It took you a second to recall the lie you’d left on their answering machine. You replied the radiator leak hadn’t been bad and had been repaired.

“Then when should we expect you?”

You sighed.

“I don’t want to come down to Cincinnati.”

Incredulous, she asked, “You want to stay in Hawkins?”

Your father’s voice rumbled in the background.

“Yes, actually,” you said. “I’m volunteering at the school. With friends.”

“The same friends you’re staying with?”

You nodded with a “yes.”

In reply, you got the swish of Mom putting her palm over the receiver. Your father’s voice sharpened, though you couldn’t make out his words. Mom responded, yet it didn’t sound like that pacified him.

You closed your eyes, waiting for him to grab the phone from her. Shaking your head, you realized preparing to be berated was something a previous version of yourself would’ve done.

“Mom.” When she didn’t answer, you said, “Mom.”

“Y-yes, honey? What is it?”

“I gotta go — I’m in the middle of a grocery run — but don’t worry about me. Everything’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll call you again, alright?”

“Honey… Where—? Your father—”

“No. I don’t care what he wants to yell about. I’m fine here. I’m safe, I promise. Just…” You took a stuttering breath. “I love you.”

She sighed.

“We love you, too.”

Your hand trembled as you placed the phone handset on the hook. A nickel dropped into the return slot. You never make anyone’s life easier, Vecna had said, using Eddie’s voice. You left it. The next person might need it. Besides, it was only a nickel. You turned to rest your back on the sun-warmed brick.

You’d done the right thing by staying. You were doing the right thing. It was the difficult thing, but you’d faced tougher. You weren’t some spoiled little rich girl who ran away from the aftermath. Even if it hurt — and it probably would. Even if Eddie left you — and it appeared as though he might.

You couldn’t worry about that right now. There were practical things to do. You felt like Scarlett O’Hara as you told yourself you’d think about the aftermath later.

Inside Bradley’s, shoppers and clerks spoke in hushed tones. Beeps from the checkouts didn’t carry beyond the cart corral. The quiet helped you concentrate on Steve’s shopping list. Item by item, you filled your cart, having to substitute skim milk for 2%, whole-wheat bread for white, and a carton of eighteen eggs instead of a dozen.

Steve had written ‘12 eggs,’ like you could buy them individually.

You huffed a laugh when turning into the ransacked paper aisle. The shelves for the industrial-sized packs of toilet paper were empty. That left you stepping onto the lowest shelf and struggling for the last two packs of the expensive floral-printed stuff at the back.

At the checkout, the clerk issued a rehearsed apology for the shortages. With the volcanic fissures now closed and road crews fixing the damage, they assured you shipments would start coming again soon. They helped bag your order since there weren’t enough baggers. They apologized for that, too.

You waved away their apologies and thanked them for their assistance. Because you weren’t an entitled person who didn’t appreciate a favor when it was offered.

Once the car’s trunk was loaded, you headed back to Steve’s. You didn’t know what you were going to say to Eddie about this morning, or how to broach the subject. He’d been dealing with so much stress. You understood that. You didn’t want to be another stressor. He needed to talk to you — or someone. He couldn’t just bottle up his emotions and get snippy when someone wasn’t mindful of his unspoken wishes.

As you made the left onto Cornwallis, an older truck paused at the stop sign on your right and followed you. You hoped they wouldn’t get aggressive when you slowed to get your bearings. You still weren’t used to the neighborhood. Something about it kept screwing with your sense of direction. Maybe it was how all the houses were set back from the road and obscured with manicured shrubs.

You recognized evergreen bushes and the u-shaped driveway of Steve’s house. You put on your turn signal. The truck did the same. You frowned at the rearview mirror, but pulled into the driveway. If the driver was some irrational, as your father had put it, country bumpkin, you’d make them regret tailing you.

You parked beside the enclosed carport and stepped out of the car, leaving your keys in the ignition and purse on the passenger seat. The truck stopped a few yards away. Sunlight glinted off its windshield. The engine went silent.

You stayed inside the vee of your open car door and waited for the driver to reveal themself.

The truck’s door creaked open, window reflecting the greenery of the front yard. Dusty work-boots hit the driveway. Something about them struck you as familiar. You studied the truck as you racked your mind for why.

The truck door clapped shut.

You gasped, eyes going wide. It was Eddie’s uncle, Wayne. He had a black eye and a shallow scratch at the top of his forehead, but otherwise appeared unharmed. You pushed the car door closed and hurried to him.

“Mr. Munson, oh my God! I didn’t— I’m so glad you’re okay!”

With a wry note in his voice, he said, “It’s good to see you, too.”

You offered your hands, which he grasped in his rougher ones. Tears prickled at your eyes. You hadn’t realized how on edge you’d been about Wayne’s absence until he was there.

You squeezed his hands, saying, “Eddie’s going to be thrilled to see you.”

He squeezed back as his expression softened, yet hardly shifted.

“Is he here?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. “He’s okay. He’s been asking about you.”

Wayne hummed, sounding pleased. “After that girl was found… Well, I’m sure you know by now. And with the trailer park done split in two, I’ve been staying at the Motel 6.”

“Of course, that makes sense.”

“This Henderson boy said Eddie was in the hospital when I dropped by the school on Saturday, but then that eruption happened.” He gave you a knowing look. “Course, the hospital didn’t have a record of Eddie being there.” He harrumphed and gently released your hands. “Then this morning, Agent Stinson, the one that put me up at the Motel 6, paid me a visit and told me about my nephew recuperating here.”

You glanced at Eddie’s bedroom window.

“Please, come in,” you said, pivoting to show him inside. “I’ll take you to him.”

“I first have a favor to ask.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Will you help this old man get a few things from the truck?”

You grinned.

“Absolutely.”

He led you to the back of the truck. You gasped a second time in so many minutes. Three guitar cases lay in the truck bed. You put a hand on your tight chest.

“I didn’t want to leave ‘em with no one at home,” said Wayne.

He’d never given up on Eddie. Like you, he’d known Eddie was innocent. His days must’ve been horrible, full of waiting and dread. You couldn’t imagine the stares and comments he must’ve gotten at work.

“—fit the amps, but I know these mean more.”

You nodded, feeling like a bobblehead doll as you blinked back tears.

“Whoa, hey now, don’t cry.”

You tried to reply you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come.

Wayne put a strong arm around your shoulders, grounding you. His faded denim jacket smelled of tobacco.

The guitars were just objects and could be replaced, of course, but Wayne was right: they meant something. You’d bet Eddie had resigned himself to replacing them. Coming to terms with that must’ve hurt.

You shook your head at the good fortune, then gave Wayne a smile. Now, Eddie wouldn’t have to go through that.

It took you a few tries, but you finally said, “He’s going to lose it when he sees you and these.”

“Eh, I reckon more for the guitars than me.”

You laughed as Wayne lowered the tailgate. He handed you the acoustic case and bossed around the two electrics. You closed the tailgate for him and led the way into the house. Television noise came from the open basement door.

In the living room, you and Wayne had a hushed conversation about leaving the guitars there. He wanted to surprise Eddie. You loved the idea and propped the acoustic against a sofa arm. Wayne added the electrics next to it before following you to the top of the stairs.

“Eddie?” you called.

“Yeah?”

“You have a visitor.”

“What? Who?”

You stepped to the side, giving Wayne access to the stairs. Eddie choked out something when Wayne was halfway down. You leaned on the doorframe, biting your grinning lip, waiting for their first exchange. However, it was quiet. You snuck a glance. Eddie’s arms were around Wayne, and Wayne’s around him. His fingers dug into Wayne’s jacket.

You closed the door to allow them privacy.

Taking a step towards the guitars, you remembered the groceries thawing in your car. That was unlocked. With the key in the ignition. And your purse in the passenger seat.

You dashed to the car and began unloading it. The kitchen counters filled with bags. Each trip obscured the counters until brown paper surrounded you.

By the time you finished stocking the refrigerator and pantry, Eddie and Wayne had emerged from the basement. Eddie’s excited voice came from the living room, making you smile. You padded to the doorway to watch the second reunion. Eddie knelt in front of the red guitar’s open case.

Wayne said to him the same thing he’d told you: he couldn’t abandon the guitars.

Wordlessly, Eddie nodded and stood. He hugged Wayne again, murmuring something into his shoulder. Wayne put a hand on the back of Eddie’s head and ruffled his hair as he replied. Eddie laughed with a sniffle.

You ducked your head and crossed your arms. If you saw him cry, you’d cry. Then Wayne would be stuck in a house of the emotionally compromised.

When Eddie and Wayne separated, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. Eddie beamed at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a long time, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. Wayne was more restrained, but he appeared just as happy.

“Mr. Munson, would you like to stay for lunch?” you asked.

“I’d like that, but I can’t. The plant’s understaffed, and I’m workin’ a double.”

Eddie wilted, but you didn’t want him to give up hope. He needed something to look forward to.

You asked, “Maybe on a day off?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced at Eddie. “My Friday’s free.”

“Come for lunch,” said Eddie.

“Yeah, stay as long as you want. Stay for dinner.” Raising your eyebrows at Eddie, you said, “We can invite the rest of the party. Make it a potluck.”

“I think we better run that by Steve first.”

“Like he’ll refuse.”

Eddie conceded the point with an agreeable shrug.

To Wayne, he said, “Steve’s got cable downstairs. There’s at least one sports channel.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a good enough reason to return.”

Eddie barked a laugh and knocked his elbow against Wayne’s. He then turned to Wayne and perched his chin on the back of his hands, blinking owlishly.

“You mean my spectacular personality isn’t reason enough?”

Wayne said drily, “Your personality is a spectacle, alright.”

Eddie laughed again. Wayne’s eyes crinkled at the corners and his lips curved into a private grin.

After a moment, Wayne said, “Well, I best be off.”

“Thank you for coming by,” you said.

Eddie nodded.

“Thanks for everything.”

“Anytime.”

You heard the love in that one word. Eddie must’ve heard it as well, because his face softened. It was easy to forget his sharp smile and smart-ass remarks and big personality masked a tender heart.

As you thought it, you asked, “Do you have the phone number here?”

“No, ma’am.”

You hurried into the kitchen, found the pad of paper Steve used for the shopping list, and wrote the number. When you came out with a pad and pen, Wayne and Eddie stood in the foyer. You tore off the top sheet and asked for the motel’s number.

“Just in case plans change,” you said.

After trading numbers, you saw Wayne off. Eddie followed him down the front stairs while you remained in the doorway. Once in the truck, Wayne held up a hand in goodbye before reversing down the driveway.

As soon as Wayne’s truck was out of sight, Eddie brushed past you without meeting your eyes. You closed the door and trailed after him into the living room.

“You want to talk about this morning?”

“What’s there to talk about?” he asked, kneeling in front of the guitars and closing the red’s case.

“Well, geez, I don’t know.” You put your hands on your hips. “Maybe how you brushed me off?”

He laid the acoustic case flat and paused with his hands on top.

“I didn’t ‘brush you off.’ I didn’t want to talk about fucking Jason Carver, okay?”

“That wasn’t the point.”

“No, that is the point. He wouldn’t have targeted you if I’d left you alone from the start.”

You narrowed your eyes at his back. That was a crappy excuse. And still not the point.

“Why did you say it was good my parents had left town so I wouldn’t have to introduce you?”

“I don’t know, alright? Everything got screwed up.” His hands balled into fists. “I know part of it’s my fault.” He shook his head as his shoulders hunched. “I can’t undo it, so… It’s whatever.”

You huffed a breath through your nose.

“It’s whatever?” Letting your hands drop to your sides, you said, “Me being serious about you, about wanting my parents to know you, is not whatever.”

He muttered, “They wouldn’t have liked me, anyway.”

“Maybe not, but I’d make them respect my choice.” You tried to breathe with a too-tight chest. “Because I choose you. It sucks that doesn’t seem to mean a lot to you.”

You didn’t wait for a reply and headed into the kitchen. There were empty grocery bags to deal with. You folded and stacked them on the island while swallowing around the lump in your throat.

If Steve’s parents were anything like your own, there was a stash of empty grocery bags somewhere around here. You found a bag of bags in the pantry — something you’d missed a few times. Of course, you missed it. You’d missed plenty of things these past few days, evidently, but you wouldn’t cry over them. Not now. Not in Steve’s pantry. You added the new bags to the collection, then closed the pantry door.

You turned and startled at Eddie dawdling in the kitchen doorway.

“I choose you too, you know,” he said, fingers playing with nonexistent rings. “And it does mean a lot to me — that you’re serious about me. I’m serious about you, too.”

You nodded, voice constrained by the sudden stranglehold of too many emotions.

“I’m going to go upstairs now.”

You nodded again, though you didn’t like it.

He shifted from foot to foot before leaving the doorway. His faint footsteps disappeared from the first floor. All the while, you mentally screamed for him to come back. You didn’t need him to say more. He just needed to stay. Maybe to make lunch with you, though the idea of eating turned your stomach. However, you wanted to do something dumb, something mundane, with him, like make lunch and drink the cheap sodas you’d bought.

Instead, you trudged into the sunroom and flumped into one of the armless chairs.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #em tagd #waywardrose writes

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thewrongmoon · 2 years

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El's Possible Queercoding

been meaning to actually documents my findings on this for awhile, so I'm gonna go over some reasons I think its possible that El is gay, specifically just how I think she may be attracted to girls, whether you think that means lesbian, bisexual, pan, etc etc.

El's interest in femininity:

I think to further understand why El has an interest in feminine things, we have to look at how she was raised:

The children in the lab were pretty much stripped of a gender identity entirely. They all had the same haircut and hospital gowns. They all played with the same toys, most of which were puzzle games which have no societally assigned gender. It's worth noting that these short haircuts do have a masculine association (at least in modern western culture) and the kids also pretty much solely interacted with men. Really the only indication of their gender was the pronouns that they used for them.

The concept of different genders acting differently was probably completely foreign to El when she had just escaped the lab. We can see that she tries to strip in front of Mike, Lucas and Dustin and is confused when they all react negatively.

Being surrounded by all this masculinity, seeing someone feminine like Nancy for the first time (or at least the first time in years) is magical to El.

El takes a very quick interest in feminine things. Long hair, pastel colors, dresses...

What sparks more of a queer connotation is her interest in the feminine form. We see her appreciate the ballerina in Nancy's music box, which would very well just be because she thinks the dress is pretty or something, but she also singles out the figure on Mike's trophy.

Obviously I don't mean anything explicit by pointing this out, but as a lesbian I remember having a similar reaction to things like mannequins of women at a young age.

There's definitely a duality of her longing for a childhood where she's able to express her femininity that I don't want to dismiss, though. There's a shot where she stares at Nancy's childhood photos, and it's pretty clear she's wondering what her life would be like if she were raised like a normal girl. That storyline is further explored when she visits the Ives in season 2.

El was also previously not interested in Mike's nerdier hobbies, but when Max shows her comics, specifically ones with female superheroes, El is intrigued. She assumed comics were just about boys at first. We all poke fun at Mike for having a crush on Superman, but maybe we should stop to question if El had a thing for Wonder Woman?

Fashion choices - Mirroring other girls:

A classic quandary for anyone with same-sex attraction. Do I want to be them, or do I want to be with them?

We talk a lot about how Mike tries to wear and do things Eddie does (this was confirmed by the costume department), and how that totally makes it look like he has kind of a crush on him. But what about El?

In season 1 we definitely assume El wants to be Nancy. Her attempts of mirroring her are clumsy and largely influenced by Mike, Dustin and Lucas. After the wig comes off she just gives up, surrendering to her fate of never being "pretty."

In season 2, she wears mostly boys clothes provided by Hopper. The main makeover of this season is done by Kali, who turns El into her mini-me. This time we see El refer to her new look as "bitchin'" rather than "pretty."

Her new look is very punk inspired. Punk subculture has close ties with the LGBT community. As the punk scene is all about questioning/rejecting societal norms, queer people flocked to it.

In season 3, her makeover revolves around Max. While Max tells El to pick something that she likes, El still kind of chooses to resemble Max. In the beginning of s3, her hair looks like this:

But after her trip to the mall with Max, she chooses to part her hair to the right like she does.

They later have both their hair tied up:

Middle parts for both of them:

This is all to say, she mirrors Max's looks, because she likes Max. Not necessarily romantically? And there's also no way to tell if she's doing this consciously. But I feel like there's something in El's brain that just goes "pretty girl = I have to steal her look"

Which brings us to season 4:

Now, there's no makeover scene for her in this one. Disappointing, I know. But she's had a considerable glow up since season 3.

Her hair is now down past her shoulders. Now you may be wondering who her style inspiration is. And the obvious answer is Joyce, because she looks just like her.

But I would actually like to propose an alternative to her hair style inspo:

We can see that Angela pulls up the sides of her hair but still has bangs framing her face, similarly to how El styles hers.

Angela is an awful human being who bullies her, but she's also everything El wants to be: pretty, well dressed, well-liked by the people at school. This is precisely why she chooses her to lie about being friends with. She thinks Angela is cool, so Mike will think El is cool if he sees she's friends with her.

Let's move on to her fashion.

El's style is dependent entirely on layering in this season. But she has one staple in her closet, which we also see in seasons 2 and 3-- flannel.

The wardrobe department head has stated that they specifically wanted it to seem like she was wearing clothes from Will's closet.

Will has always been associated with flannel, wearing it almost exclusively in every season besides season 3. This is interesting because flannel is generally seen as masculine, and gay men are usually stereotyped as more feminine. He does wear those short shorts in s3 though so I guess it balances out idk, this is besides the point, moving on:

Flannels when worn on women are associated closely with lesbians. There is some historical basis here; back when women were first being allowed to wear pants (1940s), lesbians were some of the first to jump on it. Jeans were seen as most normal for women to wear, and flannel was usually paired with it. Flannel was warm, durable and practical. A lot of women in the work force wore it because it held up well. Usually work boots (doc martens in particular) were worn as well, which is why they are also associated with the queer community today (though it was more of a practicality thing than a fashion thing back then.)

From my research, it seems like lesbians wearing flannel became a stereotype in more popular media sometime during the 90s. This doesn't necessarily mean it didn't exist during the 80s, I honestly wish I could find more info on when exactly it became a well-known signifier of lesbians, but alas, I cannot find any good sources. Doesn't change the fact that we as an audience know of it's existence, though.

Wearing flannel definitely makes El stick out from the crowd. It was probably considered really normal in Indiana, where the temperatures are cold, but in California you really have no use for flannel in your wardrobe. The late 80s was also known for it's focus on loud colors and bold prints, which isn't at all like the muted, practical nature of flannel. You would definitely see waaay more men than women wearing it.

So El being seen almost exclusively in more masculine fashions would have probably been one of the points of bullying for her. I think her neurodivergent coding was also a factor, but that's an analysis for another time.

El's bullying: possibly homophobically charged?

So this is the furthest stretch I'm gonna make in this post. But upon noticing how often she wears flannel, I jokingly said in my head, "I wonder if they just saw her constantly wearing flannel and assumed she was a lesbian and that's why they started bullying her." And then I was like oh wait but what if actually that's what it was.

I'm assuming she was probably labeled as a tomboy for just wearing her brother's clothes. But then I began to imagine her interactions with girls like Angela which would have caused their hatred for her.

El has a habit of calling other girls "pretty." One of the first thing she seems to notice about other girls, actually. So imagine that Angela sees this girl in men's clothing, and the first thing El probably does with her is call her pretty. Would it be a stretch to assume Angela may have thought El was hitting on her?

I don't think she was, I honestly don't know if El knows how to hit on someone at all. But the perception of Angela and the school at large could have just been... "Jane is a lesbian."

We see other girls avoiding her. This would be a good reason (not morally, but logically, especially considering the time period) for them to do so.

There's also this line from Angela: (0:09-0:14)

youtube

Now, I first noticed this when editing a completely different video. And I had to rewatch this clip like 50 times to see if I was crazy or not (I still might be, lol.) But, does it not sound like Angela is.. saying "boyfriend" in quotes?

So I went back to rewatch Angela entering the roller rink, and her and her friend group seem surprised that she has a boyfriend. Now this could be just because El is unpopular and has no friends (that they know if.) But just like Ted Wheeler saying "our son with a girl?" could just be a dig at Mike being a nerd, other context makes me wanna look closer into this line.

Did they maybe think El only got a boyfriend to mask her "real" sexuality? It's definitely possible.

Paralleling El to other characters who are queer or labeled as so

This is a point I'm going to need to further expand upon on a later date. But in watching movies off the s4 inspo board, I've found a couple where the characters are meant to parallel El:

Let The Right One In-

I have a whole post on this parallel, if you want to read it.

So basically, El is Oskar in this parallel. Oskar is a character who is bullied for 2 things: being fat (this is better shown in the book the movie is based upon) and being possibly gay (this is also shown better in the book.)

Oskar does end up having a romantic relationship with a character who is gender-nonconforming. Not gonna go into that particular character's exact gender bc it's kind of debatable and their backstory is sad, but the character, in their own words, is "not a girl." Oskar himself seems to be bisexual, again, you could maybe debate this, but he is non-straight at the very least.

The character he's in a relationship with, Eli, has also had their gender identity stripped away from them, which could make another interesting parallel to El, character wise.

Welcome To The Dollhouse-

So this parallel is a bit less concrete, but the only one I could draw from it is that, once again, the main character being bullied is referenced in El's own bullying.

The main character of this film, Dawn, is bullied for two things: being "ugly" and being a lesbian. She is not actually a lesbian, but the kids bully her for being one, and girls avoid her. One goes as far to claim she was "making a pass at her" when all Dawn did was have a conversation with her.

Being paralleled to two different characters who were bullied for being gay is definitely a weird coincidence.

El's relationship with Max:

El has pretty unarguably romantic themes with Max.

It could just be the Duffers trying to break free from a trope, but in S4 Max takes up a damsel in distress role while El takes on a hero role, for like, the 4th time, please give this girl a break omg.

We see both Mike and Lucas attempt to save El/Max, but at the end of the season Max and El save each other. You could say this was with the power of platonic love, but there are some lines that really make you question if it could be something more.

Conclusion:

I feel like El being gay is a theory that has some legs to stand on! You could definitely go even further and find a lot of rainbow imagery with her, maybe some other small details. This was just my own findings.

#el hopper #eleven hopper #jane hopper #byler #elmax #long post #analysis #stranger things #eleven

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bleachbleachbleach · 3 months

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[Bleach 079]

Renji????? Excuse me, but respectfully, what. Aizen-san? Aizen-SAN? What is this?

I cannot conjure a single reason or reasonable circumstance where anyone in the Gotei--vice-captain and below--would not refer to a captain with the honorific -taichou. Maybe this read-through will prove me wrong, but I don't... I don't think so? Especially Renji, because I have always felt that if any VC were going to win a speedrun of "list all the captains," it would be Renji. (Nanao also knows this info well; Renji can just shout faster.) I should probably revise this headcanon based on the fact that he doesn't remember that Hitsugaya exists and he's out here Aizen-san'ing his former captain, but I shall not be.

Renji just seems like the kind of person who would study all the captains, and kinda have them all clocked. I feel like if Renji and Rukia had spent more time in school together, they would have ended up making Captain trading cards. Renji would supply all the info, and Rukia the illustrations. They'd be study guides, technically, but Rukia figures, I am not drawing all these dumb captains unless we can monetize this, and they start a whole trading card micro-empire. (Renji does propose this to Kira and Hinamori, but Kira thinks its gauche and Hinamori doesn't think anyone would need captain trading cards because there's only 13 of them to memorize. Just keep writing your share of the kidou flashcards, Renji, there are over 9000. Well, maybe one captain flashcard.)

Punk vibes he may have, but Renji's also well aware of how rank works and he will walk the walk; he's a company man. (Yes, he challenges his own captain in open combat in the middle of an active invasion. He does do that. But he knew that's what he was doing, and the contrast is the point--)

Renji does later call him Aizen-taichou, so there's that:

What momentary madness took him over. Was it the squiggly dialogue that threw him off? Was it the stress of dropping Rukia off at her execution tower? Who has he been hanging out with who'd call Aizen 'Aizen-san' and poison his BRAIN like that. Though lol, Ichimaru does refer to Byakuya as "Kuchiki-taichou-san" when he and Zaraki go pop in at the 6th, so maybe it was thinking about Ichimaru that addled him.

Because we also have Renji and Ichimaru, who at least in his internal narrative Renji doesn't seem to respect all that much. He says "Ichimaru no yarou," which is a masculine, crude way of referring to someone. To a superior officer (or honestly any co-worker), it's rude as hell. Though, granted, Renji is only being as rude about Ichimaru internally as Hitsugaya is rude about Renji out loud, so. XD Take that as you will.

But it does make me wonder about what their VC-subordinate relationship was like, what the circumstances of Renji's leaving the 5th were, and whether Kira's devotion to Ichimaru came out of his time in the 5th or whether it was cultivated only afterward, in the 3rd. And if it was in the 5th, how did this impact Renji and Kira's relationship? I'm in love with all of these potentials. Honestly I'm kind of into the idea that the Nerd Squad were all kind of mid about Ichimaru as a VC, and that when Kira eventually ends up becoming VC of 3rd he's resigned about it--only for the relationship to change. And at some point Renji realizes he can't joke about Ichimaru with Kira any more, like they used to.

#sure this could be one of those early instances where the protocols hadn't quite been figured out yet #and that is why Renji is out here saying some bananas thing #but as usual that train of thought is the thief of FUN #now the only thing i want to write is Nerd Squad: the first 40 years #abarai renji #aizen sousuke #ichimaru gin #bleach manga #bleach reread 2021 #bleach カラー #no brain just bleach #bleach language

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toonbly · 2 years

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thinking about like. taylor dndads and how he fits into s2s theming of like. “teens and having their identities and worldviews thrown into chaos as they realize their parents views aren’t always correct and how they react to that” bc honestly i think taylor Differs from the group in this sense? in that he’s like. the MOST secure in his identity and worldviews out of all of them.

normal has an identity crisis when sparrow reveals he’s not actually proud of his peppy teen mascot personality, now wondering if he should be himself or be what his dad wants him to be. it clearly causes a lot of confusion for normal and even resentment for his dad. he’s spent his whole life thinking he’s been accepted for who he is only to find out he never was, and it makes him wonder “Who am I supposed to be?” instead of “Who do I want to be?”

scary struggles with the duality of herself, she doesn’t believe she can be the goth-punk seeker of darkness who rebels against her new stepdad AND a peppy soccer player who considers herself and her mother to be a “just us against the world” duo. she doesn’t realize that she can be multifaceted, because i mean she’s a teenager you really don’t comprehend nuance at that age and it makes figuring out your identity confusing and frustrating.

lincoln struggles with his innocent worldview being shattered, desiring to be like his father who he believed to be pure and good up until grant confessed his more violent tendencies to him and BEGGED lincoln to be NOTHING like him, his world has been thrown into chaos and it’s clear such a sheltered kid doesn’t know how to react to this. he’s scared and for the first time he’s dealing with that fear without his dads backing him up.

but taylors like. he’s the most SECURE in knowing who he is, so much so to the point that he doesn’t react much to being told he’s half demon because he’s always believed he’s destined for greatness. like, “oh of COURSE that makes sense, obviously i’m special because that’s what i’m meant to be.” taylor is who he Wants to be and he doesn’t listen to what OTHERS want him to be. a clear example being when nick tells him to abandon his friends for a life of solitude, taylor turns back to save lincoln from the fbi agents because that’s what HE wants to do. it seems to me that a lot of taylor’s decisions are dictated solely by what he wants and what he believes. there’s also his mother, cassandra, who’s clearly supportive of all of taylor’s interests which contributes to taylor’s feeling of security in himself. unlike the other teens, there’s no tangible insecurity there at least not that i’ve noticed. so i think taylor’s arc isn’t about grappling with the shattered pieces of his worldview, but instead it’s about having his worldview knocked down a peg and how that NEEDS to happen.

now i wouldn’t call taylor selfish by any means-- as mentioned before he turned back into danger just to save a friend of his, no doubt about it that taylor is an EXTREMELY loyal kid-- but he obviously has a pretty damn big ego. he sees everything like it’s an anime that he’s the main character of, and honestly you could argue cassandra spoils taylor rotten. his worldview is very skewed by his upbringing-- he thinks he’s the main character, that he’s special, he doesn’t understand what “jobs” really are and believes there’s a GRAND MAGICAL DESTINY out there for him.

but he’s not the main character, he’s part of a team. there is no magical destiny, just a series of fuck ups and trauma passed down from generation to generation. i don’t think taylor’s arc is grappling with insecurity, it’s grappling with reality. maybe one day it’s gonna hit him that he’s NOT special, he’s just like the rest of the kids he’s adventuring with. he’s not the main character, these people aren’t his sidekicks, they’re his team and he’s not even the leader of that team. he’s a member of it, just like everyone else.

i think the way that taylor fits into the themeing of this story isn’t that his worldview and identity is questioned from the Start, but rather his arc is the process of that worldview and identity slowly being picked apart until he crashes back down to earth and the reality of everything finally becomes clear to him. and i dunno i just think it’s SUPER interesting how he kinda stands out like that, as ironic as it is.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #taylor swift dndads #long post #this is probably all insane and absolutely incorrect but listen im thinking about him

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sirjuggles · 1 year

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Worm Reading - Part 7, Arc 7 Buzz

Ok so confession time, last night I got really wrapped up in the story and read up to Arc 10 without taking notes. I’m gonna go back and skim the previous chapters and record some thoughts. I’ll try to keep knowledge of future chapters out as I go.

Hah Taylor has such a crush. Boy ever since Lisa made her actually notice those feelings she has not been able to get that out of her head has she? I wonder what Lisa’s motivation was behind bringing that up? Hoping Taylor’s romantic feelings will encourage her to stick around?

We can actually draw an interesting little analogy from this sparring scene. Taylor is smaller and weaker than Brian, so she has to be very careful in how she approaches him, and given the chance should choose to just wait out of reach until an opening presents itself. When he attacks her, on the other hand, she has no real way to effectively fight back. This is basically the same situation the Undersiders would be in if they officially take over a territory for Coil. They are weaker in combat than most of the other teams in the city, and have only been effective because they can pick and choose their engagements. They have little to no defensive ability.

Oooh some background on Alec. That’s a crummy situation to come out of, definitely abusive and cult-y. We haven’t really seen the depths of depravity that super-powered individuals can get up to yet; Empire 88 and ABBs are scummy, but mostly in sadly common ways.

Honestly feels a little crummy the way the whole group is pressuring Alec to talk about his past. I get why they need to know the level of threat, but some of this just feels like them wanting to hear the juicy details of life around this famously evil person.

I love love love this entire section of Taylor hanging out with Rachel. I’ve made no secret that I’m a fan of Rachel, and this is exactly the sort of interaction she needs to help her make connections with people. It’s been so obvious from the beginning that Rachel relates more to dogs than she does to people, and she needs someone to be blunt but loyal. Someone who will put in the work to show Rachel that they’ll treat her fairly and carry their own weight, and who cares about her without being condescending. This whole section is so satisfying for me.

Taylor’s new suit-of-bugs approach is handy, though even with her bug-affinity powers I gotta admit I don’t think I’d have the stomach to cover myself like that. I wonder if she’ll lean into this angle? I can picture an older Taylor having a really intimidating appearance as being cloaked in bugs almost like Grue is cloaked in darkness. Assuming she grows more powerful over time, could she reach a point of controlling large swarms into large shapes or figures and using that offensively?

Brian and Taylor are totally correct on the dogs being a liability and in a bad/indefensible position. I understand that Rachel wants to run a punk canine rescue program, but she straight-up does not have the resources to keep these dogs safe, and it’s a problem. This is a time where her defensiveness and instinct to insist she’s self-sufficient is a serious liability.

Awwww Rachel gave Taylor dating advice. That’s both funny and subtly sweet. I just want Rachel to have a friend.

And we have the info bomb with all of Empire 88 getting doxed. I’m actually a little bit surprised, from the interlude with Kaiser and Purity I had kinda gotten the impression that their secret identities weren’t that secret. Maybe I read it wrong, or maybe it was the kind of thing that only people in certain circles knew the truth.

And we have now made my point from earlier about the sparring. The Undersiders are very much not equipped for a defensive fight. Going to ground is the right call, though hopefully there won’t be too much collateral damage from people trying to hit them where it hurts.

Ah, it’s Sophia! I was actually wondering when we were going to run into one of Taylor’s schoolmates eventually. This is, unfortunately, basically the worst one of them to come across...

(Future Knowledge for a moment from reading ahead, spoilers for Arc 9) Kind of hilarious how Sophia blatantly checks out Brian when getting on the bus. If she knew that was Grue her reaction would be sooooo different.

Aww yeah! Distraction makeout! Go for it girl! Let the people who tried to tear you down see you flourishing in the life you’re living now! Admittedly it’s not a totally truthful portrayal, but I can appreciate the sentiment.

Jesus H. Christ! Sophia is a psycho! I mean... I guess that shouldn’t come as a surprise after what she’s already done but like... still kinda caught me off guard a little there. I understand why Taylor doesn’t use her powers on Sophia, and objectively it’s probably the correct call, but I don’t think I’d have the self control to resist covering her in wasps after all this craziness.

Ugh god and she lies to the shopkeeper and slips away again. I find most of the villains in this story entertaining, but I gotta admit I really dislike Sophia and Emma. Which, I mean, they’re serving effectively in their story roles but bleh blech gross hate them.

Awwwww Brian with the shootdown! Huh. I really got caught up in the narrative of Taylor having a crush, I didn’t really consider that his answer would be “Oh uh nah.” His answer was relatively straightforward, I don’t think he handled it poorly, but that sort of rejection hurts no matter how well it’s given. Poor Taylor. Just when she was thinking that her future with this group might be nice.

Uh-oh Purity’s snapped. I recognize various powers have their pros and cons, but I do feel like high-powered flying blasters like her are basically untouchable if they decide to fully let loose unless you have an equally powerful flying blaster/shielder.

Hang on someone took her kid? Oh that’s a whole separate issue from this doxxing thing. Wow that strikes me as a super dumb idea on whoever did that.

I don’t have much to say about the fights with Empire 88

Interesting that Grue’s power makes him scentless. Rachel’s dogs mentioned it in the interlude earlier, and Hookwolf said the same. Honestly, basically none of the fights the Undersiders have been in would have been at all feasible if not for Grue’s ability to heavily shape the battlefield and allow them to break contact when needed.

Speaking of power effectiveness, we have seen a number of fights now where Taylor’s bugs are basically ineffective due to the physiology or abilities of her opponents. I know they haven’t had much down time, but long run if she’s going to be a frontline fighter she needs to sit down and strategize some ways to make her bugs more of a threat. Maybe that means getting her hands on more dangerous types of bugs, maybe that means finding a way to have a larger size swarm at hand, maybe that means experimenting with the limits of what she can and can’t control. But with bigger threats, she needs a better plan of action than “sting them and put flies in their face.”

Wow after you just got trounced by the Empire lieutenants, you’re immediately going out to take on the captain? Uhhhhh that’s not a plan, it’s a recipe for disaster.

Oh New Wave is already here and handling the situation! And the Wards! Undersiders, you need to learn to recognize when a fight is Above Your Pay Grade, and this one is! Sit this one out, let the big guns do the work!

Geez this fight got so ugly. I’m gonna skim over this one in the interest of time. I do like the way that Night has specialized in all sorts of ways to blind her opponents and obscure observation. It’s kinda funny to realize that part of Night’s power must basically be a video-game-style Detection Indicator that tells her if she’s being observed or not at all times.

So Tattletale just straight up tells Purity where her kid is. Probably the right move to bring the heat level down, but... what did this whole escapade accomplish? For anyone? I guess Empire 88 leadership got their cover blown, but somehow I don’t see that hurting them that much in the long run unfortunately. I don’t see what Coil or anyone else gained from this.

Interesting to see the inside of Coil’s operation looks like. He truly is a supervillain, complete with a lair and an army of henchmen. There are logistics associated with that which are usually glossed over by superhero media, I’m curious how deep into that this series will go. Will we see his HR people who hire his mercenaries? The cafeteria and showers? The janitorial staff who clean the place?

Oh oh oh! The missing girl! I did catch that when it got dropped in the news story earlier! Oof. Yeah, we are starting to see that, while Coil is a pragmatic villain, he is still a villain. If he was all on the up-and-up and going to only do nice things then he wouldn’t be playing the game they’re all playing.

Oh now this is interesting. Technically what I just said about Coil also goes for the Undersiders, and I think Taylor has been letting herself forget that recently. Taylor is jaded with the heroes, for good reason. But the truth is people who take the Villain title and roll around in the villain turf wars are out there committing crimes and hurting people. Taylor has only done a couple of actual jobs with this crew before everything switched into Villain vs. Villain warfare. But in the long run, if she stuck around, what would they end up doing? Crimes of some sort. That was what the Undersiders did before she came along, and the others had no problems with it. All of her teammates are here because they want to look out for themselves, even at the expense of others. If that wasn’t the case they could go Vigilante like Shadow Stalker, or Rogue like Canary or Parian. They chose a life of crime, and Taylor let her attachment to her friends blind her to that.

This is also a very visceral character moment for Taylor, because she is basically in the shoes of her old teacher Mr. Gladly. She has just seen someone being victimized right in front of her by someone who she is nominally allied with. Is she going to turn around and walk away because it would be too inconvenient for her to step in?

I hope Angelica recovers ok. I care about the puppers very much.

And she chooses to leave. And they choose to stay. At least for now. That sucks, but I think it’s in-character for both sides. But what does she do from here? If she’s staying true to her moral compass, I think the answer is she should try to bust Dinah out of captivity. But honestly I don’t think that’s feasible within her capabilities alone. And the only way she would be able to get support now would be to go turn this info over to one of the hero teams, which A) she doesn’t have much confidence in, for good reason, and B) would be tantamount to declaring war against Coil and her former teammates. I’m not sure Taylor has it in her.

Ooooh Endbringer. Well, I kinda take it that all of this juicy tangled web is about to get sidetracked. Wonder how Danny is handling all of this?

#Parahumans #Worm #Wormblr #Wildbow #Worm Readalong #Mine

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daydadahlias · 18 days

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hi i was wondering if you knew why people are mad at ashton - something about atl but i don’t know what that means - i keep seeing it on my timeline but no one explains shit and i figured since your ashton’s #1 fan you would know 😭

oh dear, lots of panicked ash stans in my inbox today <3 yall need to take some deep breaths, ok? things will be ok <3

anyway, it's me, Jess, ur elected representative for ash stans and I will be glad to inform you a little bit more of The Current Situation.

I have also already posted an official Press Release about it if you would like to check that out too <3

now lock in for a jessay.

so here's the situation: our lovely Hippie Himbo has yet again dropped himself into hot water because he DJed an emo nite (because who doesn't love a side quest) and, at that emo nite, Ashton made the worst mistake there is and admitted to playing All Time Low.

(im being a little sarcastic if you cant tell)

now, why is this an issue? I'll try to give you an abridged version as to why everyone (and when i say everyone i mean performative social justice warriors on twitter who have never had a real human interaction a day in their life) is so upset.

in 2021, All Time Low's guitarist Jack Barakat was accused of sexually harassing an underage girl. now, the actual details of the accusation are very blurry (as all allegations that surface anonymously on twitter are) and came with no actual factual evidence, but did that stop twitter from taking it as fact? no it sure didn't because one thing about twitter is that you are guilty until proven innocent. this also then created the dog-pile spread of misinformation that twitter is so famous for producing in which a bunch of other allegations came out about them. One user claimed she had found "97 allegations" against the band. I'm also going to point out that when she was asked where she got the number from, she admitted she made it up and deleted her account. additionally, the account that started the accusations also deleted its account not long after. so then it was just an echochamber on twitter of "oh i heard this" "oh i heard that" without any actual proof. and, listen, as an advocate for survivors, I'm definitely not saying we shouldn't believe victims but I am saying that, maybe, we should also think a little more critically about where accusations are coming from.

Following this barrage of information, ATL then posted a very (fucking piss poor) statement about the whole thing (which, as a PR minor, is not a smart move, I'm just going to say that). which went as follows:

and this really bad statement just made the whole thing a lot worse. but, then, ATL said they were going to pursue legal action against the originator of "these false claims" and sue for defamation (which, yeah, smart legal move but also looks really bad to the public eye). of course, this never actually came to fruition because... the twitter account had already deleted itself and was untraceable. so, at that point, the damage had been done, there was no proof to say they did or did not do these things, and that's just... how things go! so it's almost entirely up to the individual fan to decide if they want to believe the allegations or not. which is... a tough spot to be in. now, if we get into my personal perception of the situation, i think that All Time Low are creeps who acted creepy towards teenage girls during the early 2000s but... to be honest yall?? that's kind of how the 2000s were... and i don't want to excuse the behavior but I also don't think it's reflective of who ATL is now. And, additionally, these accusations didn't actually... affect their career at all in the long run? like, if you go look at their fucking Instagram, they're doing Fine lmfao. which makes it potentially even funnier that ashton is receiving death threats for supporting them.

that brings us to The Issue At Hand. which is that, because Ashton played All Time Low (an incredibly famous pop punk band with whom 5sos was friends with in their ~youth~ and who... all the other members of 5sos are literally still fucking friends with) at a DJ event, he's being "called out" and "cancelled" for supporting "rapists and pedophiles."

I'm now going to take this time to say that, whether or not the actual allegations against ATL are true, it does not make them pedophiles OR rapists because the allegations were over sexual HARASSMENT not actual rape. does that make the harassment okay? obviously not. but it doesn't make them PEDOPHILES????? and it is fucking batshit INSANE to me that twitter doesn't actually know the definition of that word and throws it around with such literal reckless abandon.

the real truth of the matter is that twitter is upset because it wants to be not because there is an actual reason to be. and all of the twitter users claiming they're so upset with ashton because they're trying to stand with victims of sexual abuse, do not fucking understand 1) what sexual abuse even IS and 2) what actually helps sexual abuse survivors and 3) have never fucking helped an actual survivor in real fucking life a day in their goddamn lives.

and that's the situation <3

#pigeon #anon #i love getting to yell about things!!#ok !!#i hope u r now <3 more informed <3 about the situation <3

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medicus-mortem · 8 months

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@medicus-felini liked [+] for an anatomy nerd starter.

It's not often the Hearts and the Kid Pirates find themselves working together but it happens. Works best when Law and Kid aren't within ten feet of each other. When the two captains don't have the opportunity to butt heads and snarl or snark at each other. Hence, why Law is here in this part of the humid jungle and not closer to camp. Besides, as a doctor this is where he should be since their current goal is to create an anti-venom from the unusual snakes found on this summer island. And sure, Law can pull any poison out of any body but he won't always be on hand and having a large quantity of anti-venom can never be a bad thing. He suspects the Kid pirates doctor has the same thought process.

He's never really talked to her before, the white cat mink being a timid and shy creature. Makes him wonder how she survives in a crew of loud, punk rock obsessed brutes but he knows he's biased. Golden eyes glance at her for a moment as he pushes a wide leaf aside to continue on their hunt. And then he hears a hiss from within the foliage.

Law swaps his focus onto his observation Haki and listens. He tenses, opening his hand and letting his power swirl. Then the aggressive serpent strikes. He rocks back, those seeking fangs missing his face. His Room goes out and he yanks, pulling the huge black snake from the brush. He then pushes down, pinning the snake to the leafy carpet at his feet. It hisses and struggles but can't escape from his will. Which is good. They need it alive.

"Over here!" he calls to the other doctor, crouching beside the immobile snake. Fascination fills his eyes at the sheer size of the creature. Golden gaze moves over it, taking in the shape and the twisting of strong muscles. He focuses on the head and it's mouth with two sets of venomous fangs.

"Look at you," he hums, fingers already itching to take it apart. "Aren't you a fascinating little specimen. Maybe I need to find another so I can figure out how you work."

#medicus felini #captain's log // threads #captain of hearts // canon verse #snake fascination

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msfbgraves · 1 year

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not to “go there” but i almost get sorta incest-ish vibes between daniel and the don in mobverse. daniel is definitely the favourite pup, but he seems especially close to his papa, and the don himself seems to totally dote on him. is it because daniel is his youngest? an omega? and just so adorable and cuddly by nature? i wonder if terry picks up on this or thinks so…then again, doesn’t terry feel this especial type of fondness for danny, even without including them being married?

Do you know how Daniel can simply adopt father figures, in a "I am going to love you so much you won't ever know what hit you" way? The first time baby Daniele smiled at his Papa, that was it. Them against the world. And of course the Don tried to be normal about it. Sent Daniele away to a boarding school at 15 partly so he could spend more time with Luigi, Vanessa and Miguele; took Lucille to extra dinners, new outings until she suggested a few weeks in that maybe, they should take Daniele with them to the movies next Sunday, they can have a private dinner later but Tony, dear, it would do you both good, and so their teenage son is happily ranting through Buster Keaton antics next Sunday while he has his wife beside him and the Don is more content than he's been in months. And strangely enough it's Louie who asks if they can't have Daniele back from school because things are simply better when he's around. I mean he's not going to babysit the little punk but he needs to be there, Michael, what do you think ("Whatever Pop thinks best"- "Michael!" "Yeah of course I miss him but he seems happy enough" "Asshole" "Hey he has a girlfriend where do you think he'd rather be, with her or with us" "He has a girlfriend?" "Yeah, she's Japanese" "He's into that?" "Luigi!" "Sorry, Ma -"), no one can deny the brat's adorable, Pop least of all. Hell, if Nessa were in Daniele's shoes, she'd milk it so much harder than her little brother does; that's why his siblings can't even hate him. He's just this bouncing ball of joy that even makes them laugh when he's acting out it is so funny. But yeah, Daniele and his Pop, there is a bond there that is stronger than mere blood, and Terry is not comfortable with it. Not that the Don would try anything of that sort, but that kind of early understanding Terry doesn't have with Danny, of course, he doesn't have much family in America at all - Terry's parents are dead, his little sister too, the only one left other than the family he's created is Amanda and he's had to marry her off too so he even kind of gets where the Don is coming from. But yeah, that kind of filial devotion Terry isn't happy about, but what can he do? Exactly nothing. Now, of course, increasingly, they have their own life, but if there is anything he would change about Daniel, it is that he could do with fewer stories about the Don. I mean if the Don were that invincible he wouldn't have married Daniel to him but mention that and he can kiss dinner goodbye for the week so mostly he grins and bears it.

#silverusso #mob au #knights and pawns #omegaverse #daniel larusso's father #i think that Daniel is about as crazily devoted to his Pop as he was to Mr Miyagi in canon

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queenharumiura · 9 months

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“ Who am I to you? ” (From Gokudera)

Send “ Who am I to you? ” to hear my muse describe their relationship with your muse/how they perceive them as a person. ||Accepting||

Haru was fuming mad when a couple of friends jogged right up to her. “Eh? Jerk? Oh- no no no, don’t do that. I know how it looked, but I wasn’t being harassed by some hoodlum, don’t get the police involved for something like this.” Gokudera and Haru always fought, it was like… their thing. She swore it felt like Gokudera would die if he didn’t try to get under her skin at least once a day. Well, it’s not like she couldn’t say the same, because she would also rile him up on a near daily basis, and sometimes it was because she was being petty and was getting back at him for pissing her off the day prior. Guilty as charged… “Despite his roughness, he’s not exactly a jerk.” A weak defense, but—he did have his jerk moments! She’s not going to lie!

She had just stormed off after having a fight with Gokudera and her friends had witnessed it from a couple blocks away and they’d jogged to catch up to her. She did appreciate the fact that her friends were concerned enough that they were thinking to find a stationed policeman to ensure that Haru was safe from being harassed. It was a relief that they thought to clarify the situation with Haru first before simply going through with it. It would be embarrassing to have to explain to the officer that it was just daily habit for them so there wasn’t anything to be concerned about. “Eh? Is what ‘him’?” Haru looks at her classmates with a dubious look. “Ah… yeah, that’s him. The one I’m always fighting with. He’s so rude and mean to me for no reason. It’s like my existence is an offense to him.” She mumbles, puffing a single cheek in aggravation.

The girls huddled closer to each other and started whispering among themselves, but Haru could still hear them. She nods along with some of the things they were saying. Yes, Gokudera is someone who is wasting his talents, because he could be applying himself in school, but he has a track record of leaving early or having an attitude with the teachers. A shame, because she can tell how smart he is. For the academically inclined girls the Midori students were, it was a true shame. A moment of silence for the potential.

Can’t deny that he acts and looks like a punk. They’re not wrong there. Ah… his looks strikes again, huh? Imagine that? Gokudera may start having a fan club over at Midori as well as Namimori. There is a twinge of annoyance that she feels, but she dismisses it in favor of listening into their chatter. That’s right, despite how he appears, he’s the diligent and devoted type, like a puppy. They sure remember what she’s said well. Makes her wonder what they remember about the rest of the Vongola crew. Mhm, he’s got a nasty temper sometimes, and it fits his vibe. “He has his moments though, it’s not like he’s always so rude and mean.” She interjects.

She dramatically rolls her eyes at the look they gave her, “Sorry sorry, continue your deliberation. Haru will be a quiet stranger.” Do they start speaking any quieter? Nope. They’re doing this on purpose to mess with her, she swears it. It’s true, he fights with Lambo a lot, but he’ll always be one of the first to try to protect him when danger comes around. He was very protective of his friends, and that’s what made him reliable. You could feel safe around him. Well, if you ignore heightened blood pressure being one of the side effects. This has her realizing just how much she’s talked about her friends at school. Maybe she should stop doing so as often from now on.

“Hm? Yeah, we fight a lot, but I know he cares. He’s my friend.” She makes a face at the look they gave her. “What’s with that look? What do you mean you feel sorry for him? HAH? I have to figure it out myself? No, tell me now! Hey! Get back here!” They’ve come to a unanimous decision. Their friend is dumb. She didn’t see it since she’d stormed off, but they did see something—and that was the sole reason why they didn’t contact the police right away. They caught up to Haru to make sure of a few things. There is at least a 95% chance that this guy liked their dense friend, and she was always too upset to see it. It’s her bull-headed stubbornness, you know? Poor guy… but he could stand to learn to be gentler.

They wish you luck.

#whiskeysmultimuse #Meme answered #Answered ask #Thanks for the ask!#((Screw the readmore just post it))#((Anyways with the way the meme was worded it felt more like she's to talk to someone else about Gokudera not have him ask her))#((Hence I have it set this way. I thought it would be fun this way to glimpse into her school life a bit))#((I'd be open to having him listen in if you wanted kekek))

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mcllydavis · 10 months

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MOLLY DAVIS is a 19 year old HUMAN based on MOLLY from TOY STORY. She is a COLLEGE STUDENT with NO POWERS. She uses SHE/HER pronouns, and all of her memories are intact.

molly is sweet, but a bit superficial. she cares a little too much about how she presents herself and what others think of her, while not knowing what she even thinks of herself.

her whole life she feels like she’s been in a shadow. if not her brother's, then anyone else's. it seems like every person she meets has something special about them, and she has yet to tap into anything special about her. she can make cool collages out of magazines, she can sing every word to every song on the top 100, she can match the ugliest pair of shoes with an outfit that makes them almost look cute... but does any of that really mean anything?

she wants to mean something. not just to someone else, or everyone else, but to herself as well. she wants to make her mom and brother proud. she wants to know her dad could be out there smiling down on her, saying ‘that's my girl!’ she wants to look in the mirror and know the person that's staring back at her. but sometimes it just feels like there's an emptiness where her personality should be. like she's nothing but an imposter.

rachel green stan! she's not gonna say she's her role model, but she's not gonna say she's not either. the way she dresses, men falling at her feet, the way she built herself up. what's not to love? friends is her comfort show and when she sees rachel, she almost feels like maybe one day she could be the main character, too.

bi af, and she has an inkling that's the case, but she has never put it to the test. it's hard for her to figure out if she is just in awe of other pretty girls because she wants to be them... or because deep down she wants to be with them.

molly constantly has earbuds in. she's gotten in trouble a few times for drowning teacher's voices out with some britney spears. it's annoying when she has to constantly take them out to talk to someone, too. tell her everything the first time, or wait until she gets bored of whatever playlist she's listening to!

her style changes a lot. it's not even her style. she goes through phases trying to figure out what fits her and how to appeal to her friends. she still has her nose piercing from the time she thought she wanted to dress in all black with punk boots and chains. she has played around with several personas, but she always seems to circle back to the 90s vibe eventually. headbands, scrunchies, plaid skirts, denim...

she was born in the wrong era, she tells you! she was meant to be a 90s girl!

for the first several years of her life, molly dealt with bad dreams. she would wake up screaming and crying until her mother and brother could soothe her back to sleep. she remembers them so vividly. they seemed so real that a part of her wonders if she really tried, she could do what andy does... but she has tried, and it's gotten her nowhere.

she doesn't feel like she missed out much by not having her dad, she never met him, she never had the chance to love him, but her heart does ache for her family that did and miss him deeply.

she is in school for design, but she's not sure if that's what she wants to do with her life. it's something she cares about, she enjoys her classes, but it doesn't always seem like her thing.

she doesn't have a thing. and that's what bothers her the most.

#not me realizing i never... posted this #evermorehqsintro #sorry bb girl

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nicotxt · 10 months

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Welcome to the first of my personal creative writing installments. This work is heavily based off music my some of my favorite artists. Wen Junhui’s music was particularly influential in it as you’ll see throughout the work. I’m going to link the songs for each section. Please listen to them. If i can only get you to listen to one, listen to 乌鸦 (crow) by Jun. It is a masterpiece lyrically and my favorite song ever written.

Songs of the Heart

A/N: Italics represent song lyrics throughout the work and each section is signaled by a song which the lyrics come from

word count : 1658

We both knew I had to go away

The day I told him I was leaving the weather was fittingly terrible. We were sitting under the cover of the front porch, watching the rain fall making the already muddy path to the front of the store far worse. Thunder crashed in the distance disrupting the steady rhythm of the rain hitting the roof above us.

Feiyu stuck his hand out into the rain watching as it dripped down into the grass and slipped down his arm, wetting the tip of his sleeve. As I watched him I knew what I told him would change us. He may never see me the same. I could only wonder what he would think. Would he see it as an act of betrayal, perhaps he’d pretend to be happy for me and attempt to hide the sadness in his eyes.

“I decided where I want to go to university,” I began quietly, part of me hoping he wouldn’t hear me over the rain. He did though. Feiyu looked up to examine me tilting his head as if trying to figure out a difficult problem.

“So, do you remember that university in the United States?” I asked. Feiyu nodded, lips pressing together tightly.

“You want to go there don’t you?” Feiyu accused.

“It’s free,” I said, a bit desperately.

“It’s not even expensive to go to University here,” Feiyu scoffed, turning away from me.

“Feiyu-”

“Listen Ushi, I want you to be happy, I really do, but is this the smartest decision? We’re talking about America here.”

I turned away from him to face the rain once more. It seemed to rain even harder, yet even with the thrum of the rain hitting the ground the silence seemed all too loud.

Away to a place much bigger than this

I grew up in a small fishing village on the coast of China. Most of the residents in the village had jobs related to fishing in one way or another, whether it be making fishing nets, repairing the small boats that were battered by the harsh Pacific waters every day, or actually fishing. My parents were some of the only people that had a job completely unrelated to fishing, they owned a small grocery store in the center of the village, right next to the school. As a result, I spent most of my childhood down in the store rather than the small, cramped section above it where we lived.

Everyone knew each other. I grew up overhearing the judgmental voices of adults who didn’t notice I was in the shop with them. Usually, they were smart enough to not comment on me or my step-brother, whether it was out of respect or fear of my parents, who had a reputation of being particularly harsh, I didn’t know. The one day I did hear something about myself, I had been old enough that it shouldn’t have affected me as much as it did.

I was fifteen, reading a book for school behind the counter. Two middle-aged women walked into the shop. I had recognized one as the mother of one of my classmates and the other I had simply seen around.

“Have you seen the owners’ daughter lately?” My classmate's mother began,

The other woman shook her head, “She cut her hair and dyed it. She looks like a little punk. Maybe I should tell Li Jie to stay away from her.”

Li Jie had lent me a book once when I forgot mine, we didn’t speak much but he had always been kind. Apparently because of my appearance I needed to come with a warning now.

Ever since overhearing that I had become defiant in my own way. I had streaked my black hair with hot pink or blue, cutting it into an almost boyish style. It’s not that I exactly wanted to stand out, but changing back to how I looked before felt like admitting defeat to stereotypes.

You’re the departure I’m the future

As I watched the planes take off, Feiyu's words echoed in my head. Is this the smartest idea? It really wasn’t. If I was being honest with myself it was idiotic, it was a decision spurred by a childhood dream. But it was a leap of faith that I was willing to take. I knew once I stepped onto that plane my life would be irreversibly changed. What I didn't know is if it would be for the worse or the better.

You’re not here

He didn’t show up. I didn’t ask him to. We hadn’t spoken much since I told him I wanted to go to America. After eighteen years side by side, I thought that a decision, no matter how weighty, wouldn't destroy our friendship. Even as I sat in the pristine terminal a part of me was waiting for him to appear. Feiyu with his perfect white teeth and overgrown black hair would look out of place in the immaculate terminal. I thought that perhaps, for me, he would come. He didn’t.

Wanting to fly towards the next me

Everything I had ever known was becoming infinitely smaller as the plane rose up into the atmosphere. The crystalline blue water was becoming a flat surface, waves fading into nothingness. So were the endless paddies of rice, they faded into the green landscape surrounding them until they were indistinguishable from the grass around them.

I had only been to Ningbo once before this. My step-brother Disung went to university in Ningbo so I had been to drop him off with the rest of my family. Coincidentally, Ningbo was also the city where my parents had bought me my first guitar. It was where my dream was fostered, and now the first step to it finally coming true.

Wandering alone in the street ignoring the public

The first time I felt the dull pain in my chest I was walking to a morning class. Everything about this city was so different from where I grew up, here people shoved passed you, barely acknowledging your existence. At home, every person you crossed paths with would lead to another five-minute conversation.

At first, it was nice to be ignored, to be just another face in the crowd. But that day it felt isolating, I felt more alone than I had ever felt before. As I walked past a puddle on the sidewalk I saw my reflection distorted in the dirty water. For a moment the ripples across the top of the water reminded me of the sparkling blue sea that surrounded my village. That’s when my chest began to ache, that’s when I first wanted to return.

Crows are brave enough to fly for love

As much as coming to America was a risk, going home was one as well. I would spend sleepless nights checking booking websites under the safety of my blanket in my dorm. A trip home would cost me fifteen hundred dollars. I didn’t have that kind of money on hand, I’d have to ask my parents to loan me the money. It would feel like admitting failure. I wasn’t sure if I could keep going like this though. What was once my dream had dissipated into fine dust, blown away by the freezing winds of the city. Maybe I had failed. It certainly felt like defeat.

The world is as black as a crow

So I suffered through four more years of university. I only returned once, for a New Year about two years into university.

On that trip, I saw Feiyu. We didn’t talk, I watched him from across the room as our moms talked. I had heard he fixed up a small boat and was working to sell fish to local businesses. I didn’t want to approach him. I figured if anything I was the one who deserved an apology after he never saw me off, after he had abandoned our lifelong friendship. I didn’t get one. Instead, I suffered through another two years of university alone.

Listening to the waves crashing onto the rocks side by side

Feiyu didn’t come to see me the day I returned. Foolishly, I had believed he would. It seemed I had broken some unspoken promise between us, something irreparable. Or maybe it wasn’t unspoken, maybe it was a promise we made to each other at the age of five. Bright-eyed, pinkies interlocked. A promise we wouldn’t leave the other behind.

I found him sitting on the rocks where he had taught me how to fish more than a decade before. Silently, I sat down next to him. I looked over at him but his gaze was resolutely focused on the water. I looked down at the water lapping up the sides of the rocks as a brief moment of calm came over the ocean.

“I shouldn’t have left,” I began, “It was all a mistake.”

“Were you happy?” He asked quietly.

“For a bit maybe, yeah,” I replied, “but it wasn’t really worth it was it?”

“If you were happy, even just for a little bit, I think it was.”

We replace words with our embrace

When I looked back over at him he was already watching me, eyes carefully tracing over my face. As Feiyu smiled at me softly I felt my face mirror his.

I leaned against him, resting my head against his shoulder. As his arm wrapped around me I knew I was safe. Even if I had failed I wasn’t alone. I was loved. I was home.

My one and only

“I’m sorry,” Feiyu said into the wind, “I was being childish. I should have been happy for you.”

“I missed you,” I said in lieu of a proper response. His hand squeezed my shoulder.

“I missed you too.”

#original writing #ambiguous ending #friendship #love #writing #svt songs #based on songs #creative writing #solo piece

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