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#he's so fuckin mean in the campaign
kuberish · 11 months
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I hope this happens in DnD
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Tim Drake is the kinda guy who has one of those fidget spinner knives cuz he's chronically online and thinks they're cool.
(They're not cool, they get banned from young justice briefings because everyone including Tim gets distracted by them)
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enderspawn · 2 years
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hold on are you telling me there is a character in jrwi named harlem shade. and you just have to live with this
YEAH he has shadow based super powers and he fucking sucks (affectionate)
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also he secretly loves disco music and when he goes clubbing he goes by the persona “harlem shake”
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iolypse · 1 year
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unbased critrole fans when taliesin jaffe presents another highly complex and realistically flawed morally gray character who on the surface is an asshole but deep down is actually plagued by their traumatic past (or lack of a past as a whole) and has some pretty fuckin solid reasons for acting the way they do, and even if they don't these are still FLAWED, TRAUMATIZED CHARACTERS and THEY ARE NOT PERFECT SAINTS and THEY WILL FUCK UP SOMETIMES. A LOT OF THE TIMES, ACTUALLY. AND THATS OKAY!!!
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#talking about literally everyone except for Caduceus#MOLLY WAS THE ONE WHO BROUGHT THE MIGHTY NEIN TOGETHER#he's the one who dragged yasha along with him to the tavern and invited Jester and Fjord and Caleb and Beau and Veth to the carnival#and his death brought them together even further#they fucking traumabonded over him#hes literally so integral to the plot of that fuckin campaign#and yeah he could be overbearing and annoying and all around a lot BUT HE WAS TWO YEARS OLD.#HE CRAWLED OUT OF THE GROUND#WITH ZERO MEMORIES ASIDE FROM MUSCLE AND LIKE. BARELY CONVERSATIONAL COMMON#HES A FUCKING TODDLER#TODDLERS ARE OVERBEARING AND ANNOYING AND ALL AROUND A LOT#and god don't even get me started with Ashton#caduceus is my favorite critrole character ever#followed by caleb and laudna#but ashton is clawing for that fourth spot bro#as a nby queer punk with minor chronic pain and a lot of pent up rage and a healthy dose of trauma#he means a lot to me#he's missing a key part of his backstory and finally finds a single thread of that story with orym so ofc he follows bells hells for it#they're desperate to know more about themself and this is the way to that#they grew up with delinquents (who later ditched them in another traumatic event) in a rough place and do questionable things for resources#then got borderline groomed by a powerful figure who demanded he stay and do her bidding otherwise she'd like. fucking Sue them or some shit#and only got out of that contract with bells hells who are now a new powerful informative group they run with#but it's still NEW and they're SCARED it's all gonna leave again#because they're not used to having things#so they say the wrong things and they fuck up bc there's a part of them that wants to get this over with#and make the hells leave so they can't get even more attached#he wants them to hate him but they love him and he can't understand that#ashton greymoore#mollymauk tealeaf#critical role
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arcaneyouth · 1 year
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autism moment
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evilminji · 2 months
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Okay... we KNOW that Justice League Dark is actually Competent at their Jobs.
Can banish most Spooks back home with out pausing to look up from their sandwich.
But you know what they HAVEN'T done? Dealt with the fuckin American Government. And all the complexe back-stabbery and "not my depart"ing that entails. The covering of asses and silencing of whistle blowers. Smearing of character. Just... the general BULLSHIT, legal and political, necessary to get those Ecto Acts consigned to the Depths of Hell where they belong.
Amity? Is fine.
Big ol Lair. Nothing nefarious getting in, few people ever bothering to go out. But like... they'd kind like THE OPTION, you know? Kids going to elite colleges. Jobs in other cities. That sorta thing! Maybe even new blood!
Stagnation feels too... Zone.
But they can't exactly FORCE the guys to focus on this one thing. And? They don't exactly... trust? Them? It's not personal. They're just not ghosts. Well, one is. But you can't ask ONE hero to handle all of that by himself! That's just unreasonable! Mr. Brand, while dashing and accomplished, has only so many hours in the day!
But what do DO???
...........well.......... Youngblood has an idea?
What if we annoyed them?
(How bout now? How bout now? How bout now? How bout now? How bout no-?)
Ooooooh~? Says the collectively gathered Ghost Regulars of Amity. Yes, that INCLUDES DANNY. They are INTRIGUED! Ghosts DO enjoy a good haunting. A light bit of Mischief, now and then. Some troublemaking! If you will~
I mean... Muses the resident Stick in the Mud, Phantom. As long as we all agree to some Ground Rules first...
Just until the finally Do Their JOBS, of course.....
The giggling is both bone chilling and filled with plotting. And so! The campaign of ghostly Minor To Moderate Inconveniences, begins! THINK FAST! *appears before Constantine, drops a LITERAL kid in his lap (as in a baby goat), in a "careful, I'm anxious!" Vest, then disappears.* The goat? Starts trying to eat his shirt. And is non magical.
It's the fifth random but slightly difficult to get rid off object or animal, dumped on him in the last two weeks. All juuuuust barely past that threshold where they're precious enough, he wouldn't feel comfortable handing um to some rando and walking away. GDI.
@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe
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tboygareth · 10 months
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got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing
“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”
Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.
“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.
It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own. 
It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.
It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.
But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.
But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.
“It’s nothing, okay?”
“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”
“Steve talks about me?”
“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.
“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”
“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”
“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”
“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.
Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.
“Listen. We are not discussing this.”
Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”
“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”
“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”
“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”
“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”
“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”
“He just… I tell a good story.”
Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”
“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”
“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.
“He has pet names for everybody.”
“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”
“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”
“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”
“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”
“The Eddie smile.”
Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.
Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.
Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling… 
He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.
The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.
But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.
Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.
“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”
“Language, Wheeler.”
“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”
“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”
There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.
“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”
Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.
“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.
“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”
“We were arguing about you.”
“And the good news?”
“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”
That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”
Well. Here goes nothing.
“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”
Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning. 
The Eddie smile.
It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.
“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.
And then he kisses him.
because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something
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taintedcigs · 10 months
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i know places — e.m.
pairing: eddie munson x popular cheerleader!f!reader
warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, smut, p in v, kind of degradation, jealousy, praises, nicknames, br*eding kink, cre*mpie, FIGHT!!, eddie beats someone up, gareth is an asshole im sorry, and some flufff
summary: in which you are secretly dating eddie because his friends don't like you (wc: 6k+)
a/n: HELLO hello I AM BACK! i kind of hate this, and the ending sucks pls ignore it but i wanted to post it so bad bc i love ts x eddie!! also a part of this was heavily HEAVILY inspired by an ep of veronica mars bc its one of my fav shows!! also no dividers and i didn't proof-read SO PLEASE ignore the mistakes plss
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Four months.
It had been four months since you and Eddie had started to “secretly date.”
And in all honesty, it had been fun. The sneaking around, the private dates, the quick fuck seshs in school, in the supply closet, after his D&D campaigns, in his van, in the woods.
And the teasing, oh god, the teasing.
It's why you were currently scrunched up in the back of his van, ragged breathing and curses, heavy tension filling the space.
“You done teasin’?” he asked, hovering over you.
It started with the glances in the hallway, at first, Eddie thought they were innocent. But the way you threw your head back as you touched Andy’s arm had Eddie’s jaw clenched.
He was sure his blood was boiling by the time he dragged you back to his van.
He dismissed your concerns about how he shouldn’t skip English again, he could care less, he needed you, and he needed you now.
It was driving him crazy too, while he had fun, he hated the idea of not being able to tell those stupid jocks to back off of his girl.
He hated the stupid school hierarchy and his friends for having to keep this relationship a secret, he hated not being able to show you off.
“Teasing?” You asked, an innocent smile playing on your lips.
“C’mon don’t play coy now.” He warned, “I know what you were tryin’ to do with that stupid jock.” He scoffed.
“And did it work?” You batted your lashes, and he rolled his tongue inside of his cheek. “Yeah.” He barely gave you any time to adjust before his lips hungrily attacked yours.
So needy and filled with lust that you couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips. He didn’t waste any time as he reached for the edge of your tiny top almost ripping it off and letting it drop to the van’s floor.
You could feel your breath hitch with how rough he was being, his calloused fingers flipping your cheerleader skirt and moving your panties aside, sliding a finger as he groaned at the wetness, partying your pussy to get a better view of your gushing heat.
“Fuckfuckfuck.” He cursed under his breath, “Such a pretty fucking pussy, baby,” He peppered your heat. “All mine, yea?” He asked needily.
His fingers worked your clit with little circles, causing you to whimper out. “Mhmm.” You barely let out, eyes shutting immediately in pleasure.
His fingers worked to stretch you open, and his visible bulge was pressing hard against his uncomfortable pants, you knew you would get what you had been begging for all morning soon.
“You think it’s fuckin’ funny to try to make me jealous?” He raised a brow, and you stopped your lips from twitching into a smirk, you didn’t need him to edge you, not right now, not when you needed him this much.
“Nuh-uh.” You pouted, “Only did it cause you kept flirting with that girl yesterday at the gig.” You huffed, you knew you were being petty, but could care less, the downside to this whole deal was the fact that you couldn’t tell those girls to back off of him, you just had to smile and watch as they swooned all over him.
And if he could play at that game, so could you.
He gave you a slight chuckle before his fingers plunged in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned for more. “Needy fuckin’ slut.” He’s being mean, and you love it.
“I’ll give you all the attention you need, yea? Such a bratty baby.” He teased.
You cried out when he retracted his fingers, feeling empty as you pouted at him. He was quick to get his aching cock out of the uncomfortable boxers, bouncing against his stomach as he hissed.
His breathing was ragged as his cock flexed in his palm, causing your thighs to tremble with need, “Do something.” You breathed.
He raised a brow at your eagerness, “Please,” You pleaded, tears welling in your eyes at the pent-up frustration inside of you.
He was quick to dip his head down your chest, mouth nibbling at your nipples, and you arched against his fingers, he was driving you crazy and you could feel his aching cock brush against your thighs.
“So fuckin’ perfect,” He cried out pinching your clit, “And all mine,” You liked how rough and possessive he got when he was jealous, you didn’t care that it was wrong, your heat was pulsing relentlessly with need.
“Jesus,” He cried out when he had one hand on your hip, and used the other to rub the tip of his pulsing cock against your entrance.
You trembled with desire when he teased you further, his pink tip sliding easily over your soaking cunt, “C’mon, thought you wanted to fuckin’ tease me?” He mocked.
“You’re already cryin’ out like a whore and I haven’t even touched you properly yet, peach,” He cooes, causing you to whine.
“N—need you,” Barely able to speak, you spread your thighs further, and Eddie gives you a chuckle, his mocking was making you throb even more.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you spread your legs like that for that dumb jock too, honey?” His words are laced with bitterness and you’re quick to shake your head.
“Uh—uh, only you,” You whine, he’s rough as he grabs your cheeks making you look at him, your eyes widen as you desperately plead for him to do something  — anything.
“Since I own this tight little cunt, I’m gonna use it like I fuckin’ want to,” He growls, and you whimper at that, Eddie’s lips tilt into a smirk, he knows you enjoy his words. “You want that, peach? You want me to wreck this pretty little pussy? Fill you to the brim with my warm load?” He asks, and it makes you tilt your head backward in pleasure when he teases his tip against your entrance again.
“Mpmhm… Fuckfuckfuck, yes please!” You’re practically shaking with the need to be fucked.
He grasped your wrists in one hand, pinning them against the cold walls of his van, making you hiss, barely giving you any warning before he slowly prodded his aching cock inside your velvety walls.
“Fuckohfuckohfuck,” His breathing was ragged and you could almost feel his cock splitting you open, your mouth rounding into a silent ‘Oh.’
As he plunged himself deeper into you, your back arched back toward him, making your cunt clamp down on his cock, and he growled, “S’fuckin’ tight, poor baby must’ve felt so empty without my cock, yea?” He cooes and you nod quickly.
You could feel your insides burn, both from need and from how big Eddie was. “Mmmph, greedy fuckin’ cunt. Takin’ me so well, honey.” He murmured peppering your face with kisses, you could barely take in his words, your mind clouded with desire.
Your eyes welled up in tears again, it felt so fucking good, feeling him this deep inside of you, “Shhh… you can do it baby,” Eddie encouraged as he forced himself deeper into your soaking walls.
“Be a good girl and take it all, can you do that honey?” You nodded immediately, Eddie’s hands were quick to caress your cheeks, “Good fuckin’ girl,” He murmured before he went on and on, his cock invading your walls until he was sure he was balls deep inside of you.
You couldn’t help the filthy squeaks that escaped your lips, the space of the van filled with your mewls and Eddie’s balls slapping against you.
He licks your neck before he bites hard onto your shoulder, his grunts filling the room as he plunges harder into you.
“Jesus fucking— mmpfh… just like that honey,” He murmurs into your neck, “My perfect fuckin’ girl.”
“Look so fuckin’ pretty when you’re all fucked out like this,” He nibbles on your neck, hands pinching your nipples. “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, baby,” He groans as he slams further inside of you.
“Edsedsedseds!” You repeat like a mantra, “What’d’ya need, peach?” He asks smugly.
“Jesus— n-need to cum!” You cry out and Eddie’s brain short-circuits for a moment, as you lay beneath him, plump lips making ‘Oh!’ sounds as your head is tilted back, and Eddie revels in it.
“Do it, honey. Cum for me,” He encourages.
“Need that tight little cunt to clamp down on me, peach,” He groans, and your whimpers get louder, you know you’re getting close and Eddie can feel how much you tighten around him.
“Shitshitshiiit— baby, this cunt is so fuckin’ greedy, and so fuckin’ tight,” He grunts. “All mine, angel.”
“’M close, Eds…” You barely blurt out in your fucked out state, and Eddie coos, “Cum for me, honey, c’mon cream my cock.”
He tilts his hips up further and hits your velvety walls so perfectly that almost has your eyes crossing.
Once his calloused fingers make their way onto your clit, rubbing slow circles and also giving your sensitive spot a pinch you cry out, trembling beneath him as you feel yourself release around his cock.
He lets out a loud grunt, “S’fuckin’ tight when you cum, shit— Gonna fuck my load into you, baby.”
“You want that? You want me to fill that pretty pussy, have you leakin’ my cum for days?” You nod weakly, still too fucked out to answer.
“Fuckfuckfuck— yeah, baby, gonna fill your tight little hole up, gonna give you all this cum,” He grunted.
“Would you like that honey? Shit—so fuckin’ tight, beg for it, beg for me, princess—” He almost growls into the curve of your neck, his hips slamming forward roughly, “Please—Eds, please, need your cum…” You make a mewling sound and Eddie can’t help himself, he’s pounding into you like a dog in heat and he knows he’s getting close now.
“Jesus—I’m gonna cum, honey. God—I’m gonna spend all of my load in this tight little cunt peach, it’s takin’ me so well, baby, I couldn’t pull out even if I wanted to, fuckfuckfuck—”
“Goin’ to fuck my load into you, baby, need to fill you up nice and sweet,” He cooes, mind boggling with the sight of your tits jiggling each time he slams harder into you, he knows he is rearing his orgasm with the way his hips stutter.
“Cum inside’a me, please,” You purr, eyes sultry as they meet Eddie’s, his grip on your hips tightens enough to leave a mark, your words sending a wave of pleasure to him as his movement is picked up.
“Mhmm, I love it when you fill me up s’warm and nice, and make me yours,” You murmured and that was it for Eddie.
His groans became uncontrollable now, and his eyes squeezed shut, he slammed into your body one last time, roughly, a string of curses spilled from his lips before his cock pulsated and his warm sticky load painted your insides, already spilling out of your tight cunt with how stuffed you were, falling down your thighs. 
With a few “Fuckfuckfuck’s” Eddie collapsed on top of you, lips peppering your face softly as he wrapped an arm around you, murmuring, “You okay, baby?”
You nodded quickly, “Mhmm…” You relaxed into his warm body, “That fuckin’ punk really thought he could flirt with you, huh?” He chuckled; he was still possessive, bringing a dark smile to your lips.
“You know what you have to do to keep them away, don’t you?” You raised a brow, and he immediately knew what you were implying, but he wasn’t ready for any of it.
“Not this again,” He huffed, and you were quick to get out of his hold, you weren’t the type to push a guy around to make things exclusive, but with Eddie, you wanted nothing more than that, you didn’t even care about the teasing you would endure when the two of you made things official, but he certainly did, and it was starting to hurt you.
“Nevermind,” You murmured, searching for your clothes as Eddie got up, “Why are we in such a hurry?” He asked, tone worried. “We already skipped one class, I don’t wanna skip another one, doofus.” You narrowed your eyes at him before slipping on your skirt, sighing in relief when you found your panties discarded on the floor.
“You mad at me or somethin’?” You could tell how fragile he was acting around you, and it made your heart ache, but all of the secrets and running around were getting to you, the girls that were throwing themselves at Eddie as he flashed them a chuckle made your blood boil, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“No, it’s just super fucking tiring to act like you don’t exist, when you’re the only person I want in my life,” Your words come out faster than you mean to, and you look at him with such a hopeful gaze that Eddie’s heart tightens, the last thing he wants to do is hurt you.
“Honey…” He whispers, before pulling your body to his again, “You have no fuckin’ idea how much I want that to happen, but—”
“But, what?” Your voice is irritated.
“But you know how the guys are, you know how annoying Gareth—” You immediately scoff at the name.
You had no idea when or why it happened.  You had no idea what caused him to act this way toward you. But Eddie’s friends absolutely hated you.  Especially Gareth. Jeff also did not like the fact that you were the head cheerleader, but Gareth almost had a vendetta against you, you had barely interacted with him, but the boy was out to get you.
You were fine with the kids, Dustin and Mike had adored you the second you protected them against Carver’s idea of a joke. Lucas, with his new place on the basketball team, understood you, granted he had no idea of what was happening between you and Eddie, but he knew you were Eddie’s friend, and he knew how hard Eddie’s friends have been on you.
And that is exactly why you and Eddie had decided to keep your relationship a secret that started a few months ago.
Eddie had doubts about what people would say about your relationship, and he couldn’t handle the fact that his friends would have a say in it, he wanted to keep you away from them, as long as possible.
And he assumed your popular friends wouldn’t be so keen on him, either.
So you agreed to keep the relationship a secret, but it was eating away at you now.
“It’s about him again, isn’t it?” You asked, shaking your head with a chuckle. “Four months and you can’t even dare to say I’m your girlfriend, because of fucking Gareth,” You spat out.
“It’s not just about that—Jesus, you think your cheerleader and jock friends would fuckin’ enjoy havin’ the freak around?” His tone was louder now and you hated it.
“I don’t care! I don’t give the slightest fuck what they would think about my boyfriend, it’s my business and they don’t fucking get a say in it, Eddie!” Your insecurities were on the surface now, even if Eddie couldn’t tell, you were hurt by him wanting to hide you away this much, caring more about Gareth who had this twisted game of trying to hurt you, and it made you feel like absolute shit like Eddie could care less about you.
“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that? I do! But Gareth—” You scoffed interrupting him as you turned around to face him. “Fuck him!” Your voice raised in fury.
“Look, Eddie, if you don’t want this—” Your hand was quick to point between the two of you, “Just say the fucking word.”  
“You’re twistin’ my fuckin’ words around,” His voice didn’t hold the confidence it did before, his eyes were washed over with guilt and worry, he couldn’t afford to lose you, and if he kept being a jackass, it looked like he was going to.
“You’re unbelievable,” He scoffed, “I’m unbelievable?” You quoted him, eyes narrowing again.
Eddie was on his last straws and he knew it, but he couldn’t get himself to back down, he couldn’t let you see the vulnerable side of him this soon, there was no way you would be able to stay with him, not when you saw how fragile he actually was.
“Yeah! You fuckin’ are,  acting all insane and shit just because you felt jealous over some stupid girls—” And he stops there because the exasperation of breath that slipped past your lips is so loud that he realizes what he just said.
“Fuck you,” You say it so ironically and humorously, that Eddie likes to think this is one of those ironic ‘Fuck you’s you had uttered to him before, slightly nudging his side as you gave him a warm smile, but you’re nothing but cold now.
“If you think that’s what this is about then I have nothing to say to you,” Your voice was timid before you made your way to the door, Eddie’s faint mumbles of your name were just dizzying your mind when you felt the hot tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.
And with that, Eddie spent the rest of the day either sulking or using other people as his anger outlet, he knew it wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help it when you spent the rest of the day ignoring him, acting like he didn’t even exist, and it was killing him.
It got so much worse for him around lunchtime, his table was facing you, and his throat tightened, a lump forming at the fact that you didn’t even glance at him, not even turning your head toward his direction.
Eddie was fidgeting in his seat, he was itching to run over to your side, scream at the top of his lungs that you were his girlfriend, and kiss you, right in front of the entire school.
It was killing him, not being able to show you how much he fucking loved you. And his mind was now swirling with the idea that you finally realized how much of a loser he was, or that you finally realized how he didn’t deserve you, not in the slightest bit.
After one fucking conversation he had managed to push you away, and possibly manage to ruin one good fucking thing in his life, and he wanted to bang his head against the table while yelling out idiotidiotidiot!
Eddie knew he had to do something, as soon as possible, you were slipping away from his fingers, and he couldn’t handle losing you.
You were doing everything you can to avoid his gaze, no matter how much your head itched to cock in his direction.
Trying your best to stay unbothered as you attempted to laugh genuinely at the cheesy jokes Andy was providing the table with.
And Eddie’s blood was boiling, you seriously didn’t mean to make him jealous, but it didn’t matter to him, you were acknowledging everyone and specifically Andy right now but him, and it made Eddie’s jaw clench uncontrollably.
The banter going on at the table was unknown to him, but it made your skin crawl as if Gareth was saying some stupid shit about you again as if the entire table was mocking you, it was cruel, or at least it felt cruel to you.
That’s when your throat tightened up, your mind foggy as you could barely focus on anything but the chatter going on at Eddie’s table.
The cafeteria noises were pounding in your head now, jock’s table filled with the obnoxious laugh of Jason Carver, and you could even hear Robin blabbing something to Steve somewhere behind you. It was all a blur to you by now.
It surely had nothing to do with you but your mind and anxiety were enough to convince you that Gareth was making fun of you at the table. That little voice in your head there to tell you all the worst possibilities.
You barely noticed Eddie’s body burning off with rage when you were so focused on trying to hear what Gareth was saying, it shouldn’t have bothered you this much, but knowing how close he was to Eddie and how much he hated you… maybe it meant something.
Maybe Gareth knew that you were not good enough for Eddie, maybe you deserved it.
Maybe Gareth was right, maybe you were not right for Eddie, maybe he deserved to be with someone who liked his stupid D&D game, someone who didn’t conform, someone who wasn’t a coward, maybe someone who wasn’t a—
“Hey…”
“You okay?” Chrissy’s concerning voice caused your train of thought to disappear, at least pushing it back into your subconscious until you were ready to face your problems again.
“Mhmm,” You were quick to flash her with a smile, it wasn’t genuine and she probably knew it wasn’t genuine but, she stood silent as she didn’t want to put you on blast in front of everyone, giving you a tight-lipped smile and a reassuring squeeze in your arm, and you invited it in, cold demeanor changing within seconds.
And Eddie could sense it now, sitting across you, leaning in his chair like a storm isn’t brewing in his head, eyeing you carefully.
You slowly readjusted yourself, eyes quickly stealing a glance from Eddie’s table–but never at him.
And if he wasn’t watching he would’ve missed it, but he didn’t—hope inside of him blossoming like never before.
He was fidgeting to get out of his seat, run over to you, hands itching to hold you again, never to let go this time.
Your quick glance, instead of resulting in Eddie’s attention, brought Gareth’s unwarranted attention to you.
You felt uncomfortable in your seat now, you knew now your anxiety about him talking awfully about you to Eddie would be true now.
“She’s such a spoiled brat,” Gareth blurted out.
“Who are you talking about?” Jeff asked mindlessly, hands dipped into the fries he had been munching on.
“That stupid cheerleader,” Eddie’s head snapped at the mention of that, surely Gareth didn’t mean—Oh.
It was as if the rage building in within Eddie had snapped within seconds, thoughts in his head swirling, blaming Gareth for the fight.
“Watch it,” Eddie’s voice spoke before he turned his attention to Gareth, the table immediately quitening down.
“Excuse me?” Gareth questioned, taken aback, before Eddie cocked his head in his direction.
“Don’t fuckin’ talk about her,” His teeth were gritted, and your ears perked up at the rise in Eddie’s voice.
“The fuck are you on about?” Gareth replied back, the tension in the table was rising and Dustin was fidgeting im his seat by now.
“I’m telling you to keep your mouth shut when it comes to her, is that clear?” Eddie bounced from his seat, so quickly that he didn’t realize the entire cafeteria staring at him, including you.
Gareth gave him a confused chuckle, “I’m sorry?”
“Are you defending a cheerleader now or what? Have you forgotten how awful they have been to us?” He raised a brow.
“She didn’t do anything,” Eddie defended you like his life depended on it, he couldn’t believe how stupid he was being, for caring about Gareth’s half-witted input on you, like he ever actually had a conversation with you other than throwing insults to your way under his breath.
“So leave her alone,” It was more like a threat than anything else, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the scene, Eddie not noticing your gaze, blinded by the rage.
Eddie was barely hanging by a thread, the way he leaned over the table eyes bulging out as he stood over Gareth, everyone could sense it.
A loud whoo’s from the jock’s table caused you to huff, before you knew it, Jason Carver was involved.
“Trouble in paradise?” He shouted, followed by the obnoxious laughter of his followers, they called Eddie the leader of a satanic cult but by the looks of it, Jason and his stupid little jocks fit the description more.
“Oh, shut it, Carver,” Your mouth opened before your mind could process it, heads turned toward you and you were afraid to look back up now.
The laughter from Jason’s table had died down, and you could feel plenty of eyes on you, but what mattered the most, you could feel Eddie’s burning gaze on you, the storm in his mind calming down with your tone.
Before you knew it everyone went into something else, Chrissy was quick to start a conversation and you could see from the corner of your eye that Dustin had probably took on the same job, spewing nonsense until the tension deviated.
Eddie had slumped into his seat now, thighs spread wide open while his leg fidgeted, his anger had dissipated—eyes trained on you again, it was so obvious now, even Chrissy was nudging you.
The conversation at the table was no longer interesting, he didn’t even attempt to care if Gareth was okay, you stood up to him in front of the entire school, so mindlessly that Eddie felt like a coward.
Guilt ran through his veins quicker than it intended to, Eddie knew he has been acting like an idiot, but you had opened his eyes further.
He knew he had to talk to you.
And once he saw you leaving the cafeteria alone, he knew it was now or never.
He barely waited right after you left, ignoring the voices from the table calling out for him as he waved them off, mumbling incoherently about how he had to take care of something.
You stopped when you heard his weighted footsteps, jogging after you as he called your name.
You were afraid to turn around, afraid to ask him what had happened that made him lash out at Gareth like that.
“I’m sorry,” were the first words that slipped past his almost trembling lips, his honey-brown eyes mellow.
“I said some really stupid things I shouldn’t have said,” were the words that followed, you could tell he meant it, ragged breath escaping with each word, he was nervous.
Your heart tightened in your chest, unable to open your mouth, you stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.
“I—I don’t need you to say anything,” He breathed again, and it’s not like you could get any words out now, they all died down in your throat.
“I just need you to trust me,” He murmured, calloused hands coming in contact with your shoulders as he held you steady, your legs feeling like jelly when he looked at you like that.
“W—with what?” You didn’t mean to stutter, but you couldn’t help it when he was standing this close to you, it didn’t matter if you had been dating for the last four months, you could tell something in him had changed, with the way he held you in public, your mind getting excited about the possibilities.
“I’m gonna fix this,” He pointed between the two of you, almost mimicking you from before.
“I’ll pick you up at 7, does that sound okay?” He gave you a warm smile, teeth flashing and dimples forming on the right side of his cheek, making you giggle immediately.
“O–okay,” You didn’t mean to sound so excited–almost desperate, but you could feel your insides twist with hope with each of his words, breaking down the guards you spent building up all these years.
He gave you a sloppy kiss on your cheek, his smile never wearing off, “See you after school, yea?” You nodded quickly, heat rising up on your cheeks.
By the time Eddie picked you up by your house, your chest tightened, the whole ride was more silent than usual, the stereo Eddie usually blasted now stayed as a background noise as you fidgeted in your seat.
“Are you ever gonna tell me where we are going? Or at least what we’re gonna do?” You asked curiously, head cocking to his side.
“So impatient,” He mocked, hands drumming on the steering wheel before he flashed you a smile.
“We’re almost there,” He announced, and the roads were becoming all too familiar to you now.
“Are we going to the trailer?” You asked excitedly, and Eddie threw you a look.
“You do know what surprises mean, don’t you?” He raised his brows and flashed a teasing smile, his eyes dancing with amusement.
You huffed playfully, crossing your arms against your chest.
“You do realize how cute you look when you get all mad like that?”
"Oh, stop it," you stammered, covering your face slightly with your hands, attempting to hide your embarrassment and the smile that threatened to betray you.
Eddie flashed a toothy-grin, dimples ever so present, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, even if you wanted to.
Gaze lingered on his features longingly, as if trying to capture every detail in your memory. “Thank you for today,” He murmured, almost embarrassed, looking out on the road as his hands got clammy on the steering wheel.
You know exactly what he was thanking you for, but you still threw him a puzzled look.
“For standing up to Carver like that,” He adds, clearing his throat,
“I doubt you realize it Eddie but—”
“I think I’d pretty much do anything for you,” The words blurted out before you could process them, brain jumbled from everything that happened today.
A soft smile curved his lips as he watched you, eyes tracing every contour of your face with awe.
The rest of the ride was silent, as you kept your promise to not spoil the surprise, mind filled with various ideas as Eddie finally pulled up to his trailer.
"So... will you tell me the surprise now?" You asked, smile etching on your face as Eddie gave you a breathy laugh.
"Such an impatient baby, huh?" He mocked, nudging your shoulder playfully, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
As you caught up to him, he couldn't help but reach out to brush your hand with his fingertips, a subtle gesture of affection.
When he finally intertwined them, your heart raced, possibilities of whatever the surprise was overwhelming you as your palms grew sweaty with anxiety when you faced the daunting door to Eddie's trailer.
Eddie's fingers gripped the doorknob tightly, with a twist of the key in his hands, the lock mechanism turned, and he pushed the door open, revealing loud chattering coming from the room.
You got startled when Eddie fully opened the door, almost squealing when you saw all of the Hellfire Club squeezed into the living room, your eyes widening at Eddie's surprise.
It was silent before Gareth spoke up, “What kind of a sick joke is this supposed to be?” He chuckled bitterly, Eddie felt hot-blooded again.
“Is this why you defended her during lunch?” He chuckled, and your eyes widened at the revelation—so, that's why Eddie lashed out at lunch.
"Unfuckinbelievable," Gareth scoffed.
Eddie's jaw tightened, the muscles flexing with the strain of suppressing the overwhelming urge to lash out. “What the hell are you doing? Please tell me this is a new joke of yours called ‘I’m fucking the spoiled brat cheerleader to spite the jocks’.” Gareth spoke up, and turned around to Jeff and others for approval, but the rest of the guys just stood silent, he had crossed the line and everyone could sense it.
Your face soured at his comment, and you could feel Eddie’s grip on your hand tightened, he was getting fired up. “Goodbye, Gareth.” Eddie spoke calmly, much to your and everyone else’s surprise. Every movement he made was rigid, calculated, as if trying to contain the tempest of rage threatening to consume him.
Gareth turned to Eddie baffled, “What?” He scoffed, and Eddie gave a breathy chuckle before straightening up to collect himself. “Get out of my house.” Eddie spat with rage inside of him.
“You have a problem with, her, you leave.” You looked up at him softly as you gently squeezed his hand to let him know that it was okay, he didn’t need to make a scene, and he softened with your touch.
“Actually, if you have a problem with Y/N, you’re pretty much dead to me so just like…” He mocked a thinking face, “Evaporate or something, I don’t know.” A sarcastic smirk was plastered onto his lips now.
Everyone stood silent, causing Eddie to huff.
“That’s kind of a general invitation, if you don’t like my girlfriend then… just start heading toward the rectangle with the knob.” A wide smile spread across your face at him calling you 'his girlfriend', you leaned towards him almost, eager to soak in every word.
“Fuck you, Eddie,” Gareth spat out, Eddie rolled his tongue inside of his cheek at the comment, it looked like Gareth wasn't just going to go away silently, and Eddie wasn't sure if he could hold off the storm brewing inside of him if Gareth dared to talk about you again.
“Selling off your friends for a cheer slut—”
THUMP!
The sound that resonated in your ears before Gareth laid on the ground beneath you, it happened all so fast, Eddie's veins pulsating with the surging rage before his fists collided with Gareth's cheek.
Your mouth hung open, words trapped in your throat as your voice failed you in the face of disbelief.
Eddie cowered over him, the rest of the guys standing in shock as they tried to hold him back, they didn't need to, Eddie was done with Gareth.
“I told you to not fuckin' speak about her, was that not clear?” He spat out his words with seething anger. Gareth looked back at him with a groan.
“Then let this be a lesson for you.” He sneered.
It was all blurry, Gareth still groaning and mumbling under his breath as he left without a goodbye, the rest of the guys apologizing as they took care of Gareth, congratulating the two of you before he left to probably get that poor boy some ice.
“Well... I'd say that went pretty well?” A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, and you giggled at Eddie's inability to defuse the tension in the room.
“'M so sorry...” You straightened your posture, lifting your head to meet Eddie's soft gaze.
“Are you kidding?” He asked, eyes glinting with admiration.
“I don't care about him,” He scoffed.
“He doesn't fucking get to talk about you like that, and he doesn't deserve to be in my life,” His firm stance and unwavering eye contact were signaling you that he meant every word he was saying, he got sick of Gareth's shit, that's why this had happened, not because of you.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, honey,” He muttered, pressing soft kisses into your hair, he was trying to relieve you of your guilt, telling you that this was all on Gareth.
He leaned slightly forward, subtly closing the distance between you and him. “Now see,” He muttered, “Why can't it just be like this?” He couldn't help but reach out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender as his fingers ached to touch you.
“Why do other people in the world have to exist, huh?” Every time he spoke to you, his voice took on a softer, almost more mellow tone, as if he was savoring the words to speak to you on his lips.
Your head tilted slightly with a giggle, eager to absorb every word he uttered. Each touch, each gaze you shared, sent an unwavering contentment through his entire being, more than you realized.
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vexwerewolf · 19 days
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Felicitations, comrade! We had our session 0 for the IGF campaign im running, and one of my players wants to be a moonlighter pirate "infiltrating" Hell's Gate militia. He was initially thinking of being affiliated with the Hell Hounds, which for obvious reasons would present some challenges. Do you have any advice for making this happen, what with the very first mission putting him up against his true boss? I dont know that he'd have enough time to have truly built up camraderie with the rest of the SRT to truly make his character have conflicted loyalties.
I mean, he'd have to have been with the militia a while to build up enough trust to be seriously considered for the SRT.
But moreover, let me tell you what being a Hell Hound is like.
CW: psychological and physical abuse
So one thing I want to make it clear that the Hell Hounds are basically an incel cult without the weird gender-sexual overtones. I imagine there ARE women and enbies who join it but in essence Andros Capella is a creepy weirdo who preys on disaffected, primarily male youth with no prospects and indoctrinates them into his worldview of nihilistic violence.
Andros doesn't really have a philosophy, or at least not one that he could describe in words (and even if he could, he wouldn't), but it could be summed up as "the weak exist solely to create things for the strong to take." You are worthy of having things if you are strong enough to take them, but only so long as you're strong enough to keep them.
The closest political ideology I could ascribe to him would be "stateless fascism." Andros is certainly sadistic, devoid of empathy and believes himself to be supreme, but he's too intellectually lazy to bother engaging in justifying why he's supreme. He makes the most basic of naturalistic arguments (i.e. "this is just the way the world works") but feels it's beneath him to actually justify or provide evidence for his claims.
He hates the minutiae of day-to-day life, and derives no joy from anything that doesn't involve someone else's discomfort or pain. He will steal your food for the sheer thrill of having taken something that you wanted to eat, but he won't enjoy eating it because he despises the physical sensations of chewing and swallowing.
And if you are a Hell Hound who, god forbid, enjoys something, he will bully the shit out of you. He will verbally and physically abuse you until you learn to hate the thing you liked just to make the pain stop.
Lemme tell you what the average night on Fort Cerberus looks like when you're not on a raid: you and a couple hundred other sick fucks lurk around the corridors drinking and gambling but you sure as hell better not actually look like you're having fun because you're all desperately trying to avoid becoming the bossman's next chew toy.
Some poor fuck catches Andros' eye. You're not sure what for, but from the sounds of things he might've been counting his poker winnings too loud. He gets a hand on his shoulder from the big man, who tells him that he's being too selfish - gotta learn to share a bit more, yeah? Now, way Andros sees it, guy's got ten fingernails that he's keeping all to himself, so here's a set of pliers - redistribute.
You jeer along with the rest of the room, loud enough to drown out his screams, because you're so very, very relieved that it isn't you. But you fuck up. You look a little bit too enthusiastic, perhaps, or maybe it's the opposite, maybe you weren't forcing it enough. Either way, the bossman's eyes land on you and your blood turns to ice in your veins.
"You," he says. "C'mere."
The room is dead silent all of a sudden, quiet enough that the pitiful whimpering of the first guy, (currently on his second thumbnail) is the only sound you can hear. You walk over, as a prisoner does to the place of execution.
He takes your hands, inspecting your fingernails, and then your hands, then your arms. "No ink yet? You not pulling your weight? Am I payin' to feed a fuckin' leech?"
You say you're not a leech.
"Those pricks over at the Gate are gettin' too clever. Learning too quick. Gettin' the jump on us too many times. I want someone over there learnin' what they know. You 'avin' no ink makes you a good choice. They'd sniff out any of these boys in a second, they would, but not you. You look soft. Don't he look soft, boys?"
The room jeers at you just as you jeered at the first guy (he's on his ninth nail, now, and his throat is so hoarse he can't make sounds anymore). You try your best to remain composed.
"Normally soft'd be fuckin' worthless. But soft'll let you blend right in with the Gaters."
So, to avoid whatever horrific torture he's currently ideating, you agree. The next time they go out on a raid, they pick a ship full of people who don't know each other and slip you in with the passengers when nobody's looking. You don't go to Hell's Gate directly - you do a couple of hops through the Thousand Habs, just to throw off suspicion.
You sue for residency on the station as a refugee from a failed habitat. They give you your own cabin, and they make sure you're fed and clothed. You smirk to yourself - they really are as soft as Andros said they'd be; they have food and water and clothes and they're just giving them away!
You don't have all that many marketable skills, so after a few rotations scrubbing air filters, you apply to take the militia aptitude test. You try to play it down so they don't get suspicious, but if nothing else you're a damn good pilot, so you get fast-tracked. These fucking idiots just give you a mech! God, it's gonna be so easy to tear them apart from the inside.
They put you in a team. You train together, building up hours in the simulators. Then something weird happens. They... trust you? They want to... spend time with you, outside the simulators. They want to drink with you, play games with you, hear about your life. Well, is it more suspicious if you say no? You have to maintain your cover.
You don't always fit in well. Sometimes you crack jokes that are... a little unpleasant, a little off, a little worrying, and you learn to bite those down because it's bad for your cover. You also have this odd air about you, like you're constantly on guard, like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop (like somebody's gonna make you rip your fingernails out if you're too happy). People figure you must've gone through some trauma and are kind stupid enough not to pry.
You feed information about the militia back to Andros - carefully, so as not to blow your cover. Some members of your team get hurt - nobody dies, but they get hurt. You feel... bad. Why do you feel bad? They're soft, they're weak, they don't mean anything. They're not your real friends. You don't have any friends.
Months pass. Jerry says he wants to tap your team for a long-standing project he's working on. This is your chance. Sabotaging this will prove to Andros that you're strong, that you're not weak, that you're not a leech, that you can pull your weight.
Sure, a bunch of your team will have to die. The only people who've ever put their trust in you, the only people who've ever believed in you. But that's fine, right? They don't mean anything, they're not real people, right? They're idiots for trusting you, right? They deserve it, right?
Right?
... right?
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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year
Text
p*ssydrunk!eddie munson x fem!reader (smut MDNI)
AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES
based off this post i made when i was too lazy to write it 🫠
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*
Eddie’s laying back on his bed, soft huffs leaving his lips as you ride him. He was so sensitive today, and while you were partial to him taking control—you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed having him like this. Sprawled out with pink cheeks and messy hair, needy and unbelievably pussy drunk.
He really needed you today, after all the energy he had spent on his latest campaign. He loved it and everything it took to get these sessions to his liking, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exhaust him. He was all wound up throughout with excitement and then had a serious low when they were over, and he needed some major R&R—which you were a major part of.
It was raining outside, which always left the two of you particularly comfortable and almost sleepy—you always had the best lazy sex during these days. The kind of fucking where you just take your time and enjoy every little motion and breath, every caress. You were used to his drop in energy and his chase for dopamine replenishment after campaigns, and you were—of course—always ready to take care of him.
You had been raising your hips and sitting back onto him in a sloppy, lazy kind of way and tears pricked at the sensitive man’s eyes as you did so—all with soft praises and comforting words slipping from your lips. He wasn’t upset by any means, simply stimulated just enough that the pleasure was overwhelming at times. His large hands were placed on top of your soft thighs and his lower lip was all swollen and pink from him biting at it while he watched you.
“Shit… ‘m-” he cut himself off with a pleased groan at you involuntarily squeezing around him at the sound of his voice. “‘m close.”
You whimper at the thought of him finishing inside you—something that still got to you even after all this time—and start to pick up your pace a bit, but this makes him hiss in through his teeth and shake his head. You can hear his hair scratching again the cheap fabric of his bedding as he tries to show his feelings on you speeding things up. You slow back down and he loosens his hold on your thighs where he had been squeezing them when you started bouncing on him.
Now you’re sitting flush against him and grinding, a soft moan escaping you at the way his tip was nudging that spongy spot inside you and his pubic bone was nudging your clit.
“So big, Eds…” you sigh happily, making him whimper underneath you and push his hips up. “S-so fuckin’ deep.”
Your hand rests over your lower stomach and press on the barely visible bulge caused by him and him alone.
“Look, baby, fuck- I can see your cock in me.” You pant out, squeezing around him again and he lifts his head to stare at the spot you were mentioning with glossy eyes. He almost can’t see the subtle protrusion until the lighting hits the right way, and he feels his jaw go slack and his lips parting slightly. His eyes flutter as he watches your stomach and he pushes his hips up before groaning as he falls apart under you.
You feel that hot, blooming sensation of him coating your walls with his cum and it makes you shudder with appreciation. You stop grinding on top of him and continue riding him properly. Eddie’s face contorts with a sort of pleasure and pain, but his voice is caught in his throat. He chokes out another noise as he cums again, and you hum happily.
“Feel better, baby?”
You smile when he nods his head and lets out a contented chuckle.
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baldval · 26 days
Text
ART DECO PART 3!₊˚⊹♡
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characters: valentino x gn!reader
wc: 2.2k
warnings: cursing, allusions to smut, mentions of drug use, sligthly ooc val.
a/n: decided to give you guys a whole lot of fluff as an apology for last chapter, hope you like this!!!!
series masterlist!
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"-and I mean, I know it's a fuckin' tough challenge to make her look good in blue, but I think we can do it. I don't know what's Vox obsession with that colour, like- our whoole campaign doesn NOT have to be all fucking blue. I don't even know why we need a campaign. We've got enough people on our side, and I got a call from Zeezi this morning - I'm gonna see if I can convince her. So, we definitely need you in that fuckin' meeting."
Silence.
"Are you even fucking listening to me? Hello?"
"... What?"
"I said, we need you at the meeting this afternoon. Vox made me promise I'd show up with you."
"Oh. Yeah, sure. Whatever."
Velvette looks you up and down carefully, brows quirked in curiosity.
"The fuck is going on with you? You've been super weird these last couple of weeks."
That confirms your suspicions that Vox hasn't told anyone about that day at Valentino's apartment. You were wondering if he had.
"I'm just... tired. I'm fine. Don't worry about me, okay?"
Velvette doesn't look convinced, but nods anyway.
"Come on," she says, jumping from his chair. "We better get to that meeting early, Vox wants to talk strategy."
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You're sitting silently, curled up in an expensive leather chair. Vox and Velvette are talking business, the complex jargon going straight over your head. You're in a world of your own, completely detached from your current reality, when you hear it.
Velvette says it off hand, not thinking anything of it. You watch as Vox flinches ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. Your throat tightens, your heart kicks up in your chest. Then, she says it again.
His name.
Valentino.
"I know if you push him the right way, Valentino could do anything you want him to do, you just need to make it look like it's his idea."
Valentino.
Valentino, Valentino, Valentino.
The word plays on repeat in your mind, like a broken record. Vox's eyes flick to you, as if to gauge your reaction, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction. You haven't spoken since your argument, which makes most work things hard, considering he is your boss. You worried Velvette was starting to suspect something, seeing as how she always had to deliver messages from Vox to you.
"Yeah, yeah, I know we can use him, I just think, maybe, he's a bit... how can i say this? an impulsive bastard?" He glances at you before he says. "I know he's been doing some things I know he's regretting."
Velvette is oblivious to Vox's reluctance to speak on the subject, clearly.
"Well it's Valentino, when is he not impulsive? can you fuckin' talk to him or something? You know, I think you're like the only person he'll actually listen to."
Vox's eyes are darting between you and Velvette frantically.
"Yeah, sure. I'll talk to him."
You scoff under your breath, but he hears it.
"You got something to fuckin' say, Princess? Huh?"
Princess. You haven't heard that one in a while. It was a nickname given to you by the rest of your coworkers, seeing as you were pretty much Vox's favourite employee. At least you used to be. He wants to get under your skin, throwing the term in your face.
"Nothing you haven't said already," you say, biting your tongue, Vox knows you're lying.
He's about to make another sarcastic remark when Vox's assistant enters the room, cutting the moment short. You're not sure if you're grateful or spiteful.
One by one, your coworkers file in, taking their seats at the table. You're holding your breath, sitting at the edge of your chair, waiting for the inevitable. You can predict it now, the way you're going to feel when he walks in - chest tight, lungs knotted, fists clenched.
Valentino walks in, and the opposite happens.
You exhale your held breath, and relax slightly. The tension leaves your shoulders for a moment, your lip gets released from in between your teeth. It's like seeing him has cured you, even temporarily. As if he's your own brand of medicine, your personalised prescription.
His eyes catch yours, and you have a silent conversation. So much is said in such a short time.
Hi. Hi. Are you okay? No, are you? No. Not at all.
The room is oblivious to this emotional exchange - except for your boss. Vox watches Val's every move like a hawk. He's trying to figure out if the two of you are still together, still sneaking around behind his back. Val hadn't spoken to him since he stormed out of his apartment, meaning he has no idea about the events that occurred after his departure.
The meeting goes off as usual, full of tension and sniped remarks. You don't listen to a word anyone says, too focused on keeping your attention away from Valentino across the table. You're determined not to look at him. You know that if you do, he'll see right through you. He'll know how you really feel. And that is something you're not at all prepared for.
"Okay, well, if no one else has anything they'd like to cover, I think we're done here. Meeting adjourned."
Everyone rises from their places, shaking hands and having quick discussions before leaving through the tall glass doors. You stay put, in no rush to exit. Vox approaches Valentino, and you watch the exchange with a clenched jaw.
"Hey, uh... yeah, we need to talk. I think we should talk."
Val takes a long, hard look at Vox, before chuckling humourlessly.
"Hmm... Not sure if I've got something to day to you though."
Your boss stays stuck in his place, staring at the floor beneath him. As Val leaves, he can't resist running his fingers across your shoulders gently. You look back at him, but he's already gone.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Home doesn't feel like home anymore.
Everywhere you look, you're reminded of Valentino.
You're in the kitchen, and all you can think about is the time the two of you slow danced in the middle of the night, slipping and sliding on the tiled floor. There's a half finished bottle of wine on the counter, abandoned in favour of gliding around the room in your socks. Val clicks on some low, jazzy music, and pulls you into his arms. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.
You're in the bathroom, and you can't stop thinking about when the two of you took a bubble bath together, lavender scented steam filling the air. Your back is pressed to Val's chest, sitting in between his legs as he massages the shampoo into your hair. He's humming softly, a song his Mother used to sing when he was a child. There's not an ounce of tension in either of your bodies. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.
You're in the living room, and you can't avoid the memories of curling up with Val on the couch. He always lets you pick the movie - sarcastically rolling his eyes at your choices, but never protesting. You sit there for hours, bodies tangled together like two pieces of the same puzzle. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.
You're in the bedroom, and you can't stop picturing the way that Val would take you apart and put you back together again. Before him, all of the sex you had was quick, transactional, impersonal. But it was different with Val. He genuinely cared about your pleasure - learning your body inch by inch, memorising it like a sculptor. You allowed yourself, for the first time ever, to let go. You put your soul in his hands with full faith. Lying there, limbs intertwined beneath the soft sheets, there was no doubt in your mind. You belonged somewhere.
And now that safe place is gone.
Home doesn't feel like home anymore, and it's all because of him. You could move at the drop of a hat, find a new apartment tomorrow if you wanted. But you can't. You can't leave all of these memories behind. As painful as they are, they're all you have.
You turn on the TV, and flick through the channels, you stop at a commercial that seemed to be promoting a free hotel that worked as a rehab for sinner. What a stupid idea. Yet you sat and watched the whole thing, unable to tear your eyes away from the screen. When it ends, you turn it off, and sit in silence.
You sit there for hours, in the quiet, just thinking. About everything. You found the whole thing stupid, of course, but there was something that stuck with you.
Sinners wanting to change.
It seemed as if the minute anyone got into hell they had 2 options: kill or be killed. Hell felt more like an extension of life rather than a punishment itself, maybe that was the punishment.
All of a sudden, you're sick of waiting. Sick of being told how to do everything. Sick of trying to conform to these ideals that people are placing on you. Fuck them. You are already in hell, you have to keep living for you.
You're pulling on your shoes and grabbing your keys before you can even process it. You call the number for a car, but no one answers. Fuck it, you'll run if you have to. If it means you get to hold the man you love in your arms again.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
The knocking on the door is so loud, Valentino's half convinced he's about to be murdered. He swings open the heavy oak to be met with the sight of you, looking like you just ran a marathon.
You stand still for a moment, staring at each other, as if you can't believe what you're seeing. You're here, in each others vicinity again. It'd be so easy to reach out and touch him.
So, you do.
You barrel into him, jumping into his arms, throwing yours around his neck. He catches you easily, holding onto you as tight as he possibly can. You wrap your legs around his waist and press yourself even closer, as if to merge both of your bodies into one being.
You breathe him in, and it's the first time you've taken a full breath in weeks. He smells the same as he always did, floral and woody and expensive and yours. He still smells like he's yours.
You don't realise you're crying until you pull away from him slightly, and see the wet spot on his t shirt. He puts you down and closes the door, locking it behind you. He grabs your hand and leads you into the kitchen, parting from you to pour two glasses of wine.
You jump up onto the counter and part your legs, Val coming to stand between them instinctively. He places a hand on each of your thighs, warmth seeping through his palms. You're face to face, unsure where to start.
"Darling," he breathes. "What are you doing here?"
He sounds unsure, almost scared. If only you knew how frantically his heart is beating in his chest.
"I'm already dead," you reply quickly. "I'm literally in Hell. It can't really get that much worse. And if it does, I'd rather have that if it means I got to choose that path."
Valentino looks at you carefully, brow quirked in confusion.
"Honey, are you on drugs? Because they're really not good for you, you know."
"Says the man who did coke off my ass last month," you tease defiantly.
He fights back a smile, but it curls at the corner of his mouth. You grin at him, hands moving towards his neck.
"I'm not on drugs," you reassure. "I was just watching tv, and it kinda put everything into perspective. We should get to choose what we do in our deaths. We should get to try to change our path. Why am I so stuck to an eternity trying to appease stupid concepts of success?"
He smiles at you softly, nodding as you continue.
"I just - this is hell. We get to do whatever the fuck we want, we're fucking dead. I make a choice for myself, and all of a sudden everything I've worked for is gone? How is that fair?"
"It isn't," he agrees, squeezing your thighs in reassurance. "Vox's a hypocrite. Do you know how many stupid decisions I've watched him make over the years? He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn't."
You lean forward and press your forehead to Val's, exhaling the tension from your shoulders.
"I'm really sorry," you whisper. "For everything. I treated you horribly, and none of it was your fault."
"It wasn't your fault, either. You know that, right?"
"I don't know. It's so hard to get a view on things when they're happening. But when I took a step back, it gave me a clearer look. And it made me realise something."
"And what's that?" he murmurs.
"I realised that I cannot live a day without you, Valentino. I don't want to."
"Thank God," he breathes in a laugh. "I've been going fucking crazy here without you."
You beam a grin at him, so bright it's a wonder that the lights don't shatter.
"I love you, and I won't apologise for it," you confess. "Whatever the consequences are, I'll accept them. Nothing can touch me when I'm loved by you. You're like my own personal armour."
Val leans forward and captures your lips with his, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You get completely lost in each other, revelling in the feeling of being back together. You feel like you can finally breathe again. The other half of your heart has returned.
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inknopewetrust · 2 years
Text
Oh, Baby, it’s Halloween
Summary: you and Eddie raise a baby… only you’re not a couple and the baby isn’t real… and now Tina’s Halloween party changes the trajectory of your lives forever. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader [WC: 10k] Warnings: language, discussion of drugs, idiots in love, you all have been too kind which makes me nervous to post this. Quick Links: Masterlist | Part One | Part Two
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“What about this one?”
From the other end of the rack, Gareth held up a pair of pants high above his head. Eddie took in the look carefully before shaking his own.
“No holes, remember? I literally just said that like a second ago.”
Who knew picking out clothes for Halloween would be so hard?
“I don’t know why you even have to dress up. Most of the guys will just throw on a leather jacket and call it a day. Greasers from the fuckin’ Outsiders or some shit,” Gareth mumbled as he put the pants back in the lineup of the other hundred pairs on the rack.
Hawkins thrift had a hefty supply of men’s pants with and without holes because the rich and fortunate changed fashion quickly.
Small blessings for those living paycheck to paycheck.
“That’s practically what I wear every day,” Eddie sighed, sifting through the opposite end where a pair of Levi’s in vomit green disgusted him. “And I just have to look the part, alright? It’s one night.”
“Look the part,” his friend snorted, “you’re just trying to impress her. You could wear a potato sack and if she liked you in that, impressing her would be the least of your problems.”
“Is that so bad?” Eddie stopped browsing and stared down at Gareth.
“What? Trying to impress her?”
“Yes,” Eddie answered bluntly causing Gareth to breath in deeply.
To Gareth, no, it wasn’t a bad thing. High school was a zoo and for freaks like Eddie and himself everything was like walking in a glass cage. They were oddities; stickers on pristine windows that said ‘kick me’ and ‘dunce.’ He figured long ago that happiness was something not given or sought, but uncovered from personal discovery and self-preservation.
Eddie walked a tightrope.
One week ago he was assigned a partner that Gareth had passed in the hallway intermittently and thought, ‘oh, she’s cute,’ but Eddie never mentioned her. He didn’t talk about girls the way the jocks or preps talked about them; he didn’t ogle often at the cheerleaders in their little skirts because Eddie’s doctrine told him it was rude—even if he was as hormonal as the rest. He harbored those feelings like a scared little boy and now here he was, with Gareth in Hawkins’ only thrift store, trying to find the perfect pieces for a Halloween costume on a Thursday afternoon for one girl.
Gareth wanted Eddie to be happy. The curly-haired sophomore just didn’t trust people to not play a game with his best friend. He didn’t want to see the person he looked up to most be the laughing stock of high school because he fell head over heels for you.
“No,” he answered honestly, “it’s not a bad thing. I mean,” Gareth snorted, “if Katie Yang told me tomorrow she loved me, I would run off in the sunset with her and never return.”
Eddie barked a laugh. It would never happen. He was pretty sure his fellow senior member of Hellfire swung a very different way—but he couldn’t let Gareth’s dreams of marrying her falter. It would make Gareth too sad to even participate in Eddie’s campaigns.
“Yeah, well,” Eddie went back to searching, “she’s my Katie Yang.”
“How about these then?” Gareth held up another pair and for what Eddie needed them for, they were perfect. He left his spot at the end of the rack, snatching them from his friend's hands and grinned.
“Perfect.”
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“Click got me with a pop quiz today,” Nancy whined as she leaned against your locker early Friday afternoon. She had her chin tucked against her chemistry textbook and trapper keeper.
“I don’t know anything about the War of 1812!”
“Does anyone know anything about the war of 1812?” You countered yet her disappointed face did not lift. Yes, some kids knew what had taken place but Nancy missed the lesson. She missed the lesson yesterday because all she was thinking about was how the relationship between herself and Steve was bullshit.
Bullshit. The exact word that you had used to describe it before Eddie swept you away.
“Linda Fischer did! And that Buckley girl that plays the trumpet? She knew all about it; answered nearly every question when it was over.”
“Maybe it’s because they have no life and just study all the time?”
Nancy scoffed, “I study all the time too and look where that got me.”
“It’s just one quiz, Nance,” you swapped your red calculus notebook for the blue history one. Bilbo was perched inside of your locker as you went about collecting your things for the next hour. “I don’t think your grade will suffer.”
Steve’s booming laughter echoed in the hallway.
“Doubt it,” Nancy muttered bitterly as the clang of lockers being hit sounded behind her. Steve smiled radiantly as he tossed a baseball in his hand—it was October, in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere Indiana, and he still managed to find and toss a baseball for fun.
“Doubt what?” He smacked his gum loudly as Nancy turned to copy the way he leaned against the lockers beside yours.
“Click’s pop quiz on the War of 1812,” you cut in before Nancy could. Everyone was required to take Junior American History and everyone remembered that pop quiz well… simply because everyone failed it.
“Oo,” Steve scrunched his nose, “Click is one haggard old broad, isn’t she?”
“The most haggard,” Nancy sighed. Steve peered over her shoulder and tipped his head at Bilbo.
“How’s the baby?”
“Baby is doing just fine, Steve. Just fine.”
“Yeah, mine too,” he winked as if what you said was a joke when it was far from it. Bilbo had mellowed out quite well, actually. It felt like a glitch in the system in many ways but the doll barely made a noise anymore. Two or three tantrums a day made life with Bilbo Munson-L/n a breeze.
“And Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? What’s he like as a partner?” Steve questioned, “you seem to get on well.”
“Why? Because I’m nice to him?”
“I’m nice to him!” He took your words defensively, “doesn’t mean he isn’t a freak.”
“He’s a good partner, great, even. And you are not nice to him. Last year, you and Tommy would shoot spitballs at Hellfire every day until Higgins told you to stop.”
“That was Tommy’s idea.” He still went along with it. The amusement Steve still felt from the prank made your stomach turn.
“Eddie’s actually trying. We’re doing rather well I’d like to think.”
“Tell that to Tammy and Greg when he didn’t do his project in O’Donnell’s last spring. He nearly cost them their own grades.”
“Well,” you gripped the door to your locker. As you did, your thumb grazed that picture of you and the boys as Star Wars characters a few Halloween’s back. “O’Donnell’s a bitch. She has it out for everyone.”
That’s exactly what Eddie had told you.
“Yeah, right,” Steve said in disbelief, “he put you up to this? Makin’ everyone believe he’s actually gonna graduate on time like the rest of us?”
“Steve,” you huffed. He was angry he wasn’t succeeding at project parenthood and you and Eddie were. The fact that he and Nancy had barely spoken two sentences to each other that entire week also increased his belligerence.
“We’re all managing the best we can. Eddie’s a good partner. It surprised me too but here we are, almost done, and he’s done nothing but stay true to his word.”
Well, mostly. You tried to forget about the school day on Wednesday.
“He giving you free weed or something to get him a good grade? I heard he’s gonna deal the party which means it’s only gonna be fun for an hour before everyone is high and annoying.”
“Hey,” Nancy narrowed her eyes at Steve, “why is everything a deal? If she says he’s a good partner, then he’s a good partner. End of story.”
“So, you’re defending Munson now too?” He rose his eyebrows high beneath his three strands of hair that fell onto his forehead. “Jesus… it’s the literal apocalypse. Apocalypse!”
“I’m not having this conversation with you.”
Done with Steve’s antics, Nancy turned her body away from Steve and back to how she was originally standing. Inside, her mind was fighting every physical urge to apologize and revert back to her timid self of one year ago.
But she could feel the way your demeanor changed when Steve began cutting on Eddie. You were her friend—best friend—and Nancy Wheeler would be dammed if her boyfriend was going to make you feel that way.
Steve was growing. However, he was far from perfect.
“Nance, come on…” Steve complained as he rested his head on her shoulder. She ignored him the best she could at the moment.
“Are you going to the game tonight? Last one for the year,” football game. Nancy’s wide eyes were hopeful that she wouldn’t be stuck standing by a wild Steve and the popular kids she didn’t like.
“No,” you shook your head, grabbing Bilbo out of the locker and shutting it. “I’ve got Bilbo and I have to study for that Spanish test from last week when I get home.”
“You had Bilbo yesterday! What happened to Eddie doing his fair share?”
“He has Hellfire tonight and when we went through our plans, I told him I would take the doll when he had his club. He swapped Sunday so if you aren’t hungover from the party, we can get breakfast or something.”
Steve wrapped his arms around Nancy’s waist, pulling her tightly against him as she breathed out heavily.
“Fine,” she grumbled, “but you’re picking up the tab.”
“You’re really going to study for a Spanish test on a Friday night?” Steve asked, brow quirked and judgmental.
“Tell me, Steve,” you shut your locker, “with Halloween and all of my other homework on Sunday, when would I have time to study for the test? Some of us do study and I know that might surprise you.”
“Ouch,” he winced, pouting as Nancy tried to wiggle from his grasp, “You’re being mean. I blame Munson. He’s corrupting you.”
“Blame away,” you began walking backwards from the two lovers as the clock ticked rapidly toward the end of passing period. “I rather like the person I’m turning into.”
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“Have you thought about your costume yet?”
As you stepped out of Clay’s calculus class, Eddie snatched the homework (that the teacher had been passing out not a moment before) from your hands.
He had left Click’s history class five minutes early to catch you before Nancy drove you home. To make frivolous conversation, he asked about calculus and joked about you getting a tutor which left him burned when you told him he should get a tutor too—for all of his classes.
A few hours earlier, he had seen Nancy and Steve snug as a bug beside your locker as the hair’s arrogant attitude turned two faces sour. Eddie had observed it in passing; walking out of the lunchroom with the rest of the Hellfire members he shared it with only to pass your locker without you noticing because the two lovebirds held your attention.
The look on your face then was different than it was now. Relaxed, gratified. Another week was completed and Halloween was tomorrow.
“So…?” You waved a hand in front of his face. Eddie was staring into space; the kind where you don’t realize it because your thoughts are running either a million miles per second or not moving at all.
“Hm?” He asked, standing a bit straighter after realizing he hadn’t answered your question.
“Have you thought about your Halloween costume yet?” You questioned again as you slipped another notebook into your backpack.
“Got it yesterday, actually,” Eddie’s grin made your stomach flutter. He had that devilish smirk that made the football players angry as he stood on tables and jeered at their dull ignorance of being jocks.
“And it is what?”
“A surprise,” his eyes flicked to the pictures in your locker and this time, you caught him looking. Backing up a bit, the hand that wasn’t holding your backpack by its handle traced the edges of the pictures and plucked them off one by one from their spots.
“This one is from the Fourth of July last year,” you motioned for Eddie to take it and he did. “Nancy’s mom had us take all the kids to the fireworks at the fairgrounds.”
“Ah, the fireworks,” Eddie recalled, “pretty sure last year I graffitied Mayor Kline’s garage door the same time those were going on.”
“You didn’t,” you put the other picture in your hand up to your lips, hiding your mouth in bewilderment that he would openly admit to that. That shit made the news.
“Oh, but I did,” Eddie declared in a whispered excitement. The way he scrunched his nose at your disbelief made you beam from underneath the picture. “In big fat letters: if you repeat a lie enough, it becomes the truth.”
“In protest of Kline’s decision to build that mall? He was going to sell Forest Hill’s land, right?” You removed the picture from your mouth as the reality of his act of political artistic expression came to full realization. Eddie didn’t do things like that just to get a rise out of people. He did it because he hated the guy and without protest, who knew where he would be living at the moment.
“Yes, ma’am,” he held his chin out proudly, “saved the people of the trailer park. Local hero and all…” he boasted with a smile before handing back the first picture.
“So, you and Wheeler have been friends for a bit?”
“Since we were little,” you nodded your head and stuck that picture back onto the metal locker. Eddie took the second one you offered. “Our parents went to school together and I guess they’re not in the same tax bracket anymore but Karen Wheeler and my mom still get together every Sunday to talk shit about Nancy’s dad.”
“Not yours?” Eddie snickered.
“No,” you dropped your backpack on the ground and faced him fully, “my parents get along just fine. But these little dweebs,” you pointed your finger at the boys in the photo, “are the same ones from the car the other day.”
“This one,” he pointed to Mike, “is Wheeler’s brother.”
“Mike,” you gave him an ‘uh-huh,’ “and this here is Will Byers—who I don’t babysit,” you looked up at him, “and these two… these two are the worst offenders of them all.”
Eddie hardly doubted that. Two cheeky smiles hanging onto your shoulders as your arms wrapped around theirs. A curly haired Han Solo and a grinning Luke Skywalker.
“Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair. I’ve babysat them since I was like… eight.”
“You’re good with kids then?” He quirked a brow, genuinely asking.
Every second he could spend getting to know you better he grasped tightly.
“I guess,” he looked back at the picture and saw the joy on those kids faces. They were happy to be there; they were happy to be in your presence and he couldn’t blame them in the slightest. “It’s as good as a job as any but I don’t know if I’ll ever want my own. Maybe if the right circumstances present themselves I’ll change my mind.”
“But they’ve got nothing on Bilbo, right?”
“Oh, no,” you laughed and grabbed the picture back, “Bilbo runs circles around them. Doesn’t talk back, does his homework on time…”
“Are you going to bring Bilbo to Tina’s? Not really sure Sandra Dee would be seen carrying a baby.”
“My dad offered to make sure any tantrums would be dealt with. We are free to live our lives as childless parents,” you joked and Eddie imagined this Halloween but also a hundred more. “You can pick him up when you drop me off.”
Childless or not. A part of him couldn’t imagine it without you.
“You have,” Eddie cleared his throat, eyes darting around the hallway before landing back to you, “you have really nice parents, by the way.”
“Thanks,” taken aback by his honesty, “I mean, I think they’re just like everyone else’s but yeah, I guess they’re nice.”
“Not everyone’s parents would have let me stay at their house all afternoon,” he shoved his hands into his jacket’s pockets and leaned against the lockers with a slouch. “Some of us drew the short straw in that department.”
Eddie never talked about his home life. You knew of Wayne because he worked at the plant with your dad, but no one ever really talked about it. In sixth grade, he was out for a week because his mom died. The teacher passed around a card for you all to sign yet no one said a word when he returned.
“Well,” you shrugged to pretend it wasn’t as heavy as it seemed, “the families we’re given don’t have to be the ones we choose. These kids,” you pointed to the picture you just put back, “are my family even if we don’t share any blood.”
“You know,” Eddie gazed at you with tender eyes that you wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t in tune with your own emotions. “You’re a little too smart for your own good.”
You laughed, grinning from ear to ear as you leaned down to grab your backpack again. “Not at math, though.”
“No,” Eddie shook his head. He ducked his head, feeling the heat creep onto his neck until it found its way on his cheeks. His hair hid what you couldn’t see. You grabbed your science textbook and Bilbo before closing your locker. When he willed the tint away, he watched the way you adjusted the bag on your shoulders with one hand as you held Bilbo in the other.
“I guess not math.”
“I’d rather have the emotional intelligence anyway,” tossing your head in the direction of the door, Eddie animatedly sprung himself from the lockers and back into the emptying hallway. Two cheerleaders nearly ran into him and he lifted his arms like he had been caught for murder.
Emotional intelligence. If you had stronger, clearer emotional intelligence you would have taken the initiative to ask Eddie out. You would have realized your crush on him was firm and unyielding enough to warrant an actual date.
But the “not date, date” of Tina’s Halloween party loitered between the two of you. Neither had mentioned the “not date” besides the costumes you were going to wear that wouldn’t match.
As you navigated the halls together to exit the building, Eddie walked beside you and every so often, his arm would brush yours. Not on accident.
“Dustin and those kids, they’re in middle school?”
“Eighth graders…” just the thought that next fall they’d be in high school made you feel really old. “They’ll be coming here next year.”
“I’ll have to tell Gareth about them,” he said, “maybe when I’m gone he can recruit them for Hellfire.”
“You gonna graduate on time, Munson?” You smiled, knocking your shoulder into the arm that kept grazing you. As dramatically as Eddie could, he stumbled and rubbed his arm like it hurt.
“That’s offensive, you know that?” He feigned insult. “If I don’t, I’ll just welcome them myself. The lost sheepies are the ones that are easiest to catch.”
“Lost sheepies,” you repeated softly. Eddie pattered his way back beside you.
“They’d probably like you a lot,” you told him when he returned. “Will would take a minute to warm up to you but I think Dustin would cling to you. He likes the… weird ones.”
“First I’m not gonna graduate on time and now I’m weird?” Eddie threw his head back. “You’re killin’ me today with this defamation.”
Defamation. ‘Where the hell did that come from,’ Eddie thought to himself.
“I don’t think you being weird is a bad thing, Eddie,” Eddie. Not Munson or anything else. It was something he’d never tire of hearing. “You just embrace it. Weird is cool—even if Billy or Tammy or Carol don’t think so.”
“You’re pretty weird yourself, mama.”
The end of the hallway was quickly approaching and Eddie jogged forward, opening the door for you and holding open.
“Thanks,” you told him, “for both the… compliment and the door.”
“It’s what fellow weirdos do for each other,” at the end of the walkway, Eddie realized he was going in one direction and you the other.
The end of Friday had been reached. Only the Halloween party was left.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?” He asked as if the answer wasn’t clear. You nodded, head giving an enthusiastic bob you’d be thinking over later.
“How will I know what to look for if you don’t tell me what your going as?” You shouted as he walked toward his van. There wasn’t a part of you that cared what other people thought anymore.
Carol and Billy get fucked. There was only one life you’d remember and you’d be dammed if Eddie wasn’t a part of it in some way.
“Don’t worry, mama,” he turned around and kept walking backwards. A smirk playing on lips like it always belonged there. “You’ll recognize me.”
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“Okay,” Nancy came trotting back into her room from her mother’s closet, “here,” she tossed a small red scarf into your lap as you sat on her bed.
“What’s this?”
“The ascot I said I’d give you,” she said like it was obvious. Nancy fiddled with the black tie on her shirt in the mirror above her dresser.
“Nance,” you called over to her, catching her eyes, “have you ever seen Grease?”
“Of course I have.”
“Then you’d know that Sandy doesn’t wear an ascot… just red shoes.”
“No,” she objected, “she definitely wears an ascot.”
“Tell that to Olivia Newton-John,” you got up from the bed and went straight to her closet, pulling it open to reveal a small stack of VHS tapes at the bottom. Grease was the fifth one down and on the back, Danny and Sandy at the senior carnival fun house was plastered on the back.
You handed it to her on unsteady legs as the red heels you wore were beginning to become unforgiving. One night, just one night.
“See,” you told her, “no ascot.”
“I swear to God she had one,” Nancy looked in wonder before handing it back to you. “But you’ve got the shirt and leggings and belt. That’s good enough.”
“No jacket though,” you sat back down on her bed.
“Maybe there’s a reason you couldn’t find it,” she giggled to herself like a schoolgirl.
“Oh, yeah?” You questioned. All this dancing around… you didn’t want Monday to arrive and end with Eddie never speaking to you again. Wishing upon a shooting star, whatever confidence you could muster tonight would have to manifest itself into reality.
Project Parenthood was not going to end on your watch without you asking Eddie Munson out on a date.
That was what you came to terms with Friday night.
You just hoped he didn’t think you a fool for believing he might actually say yes. You also didn’t take Eddie to be the kind of guy who’d be embarrassed that a girl asked him out. What if he wanted someone to be forward? What if he liked confidence and strife over classic gender roles being challenged?
The guy was as non-conformist as a person could get.
“Well, maybe Billy Hargrove would lend me his,” you joked and she dropped the tube of mascara she had just picked up back on the dresser.
“Billy Hargrove?” She spoke in a harsh whisper as her hand searched for it again. “What the hell—“
Nancy took one look at you and saw the mischief all over your face. It was a joke. You were joking. You wouldn’t let Billy Hargrove touch you with a ten foot pole.
“I think if Eddie Munson heard you say that he would keel over.”
“I think if Eddie Munson heard I had a big fat crush on him he’d keel over.”
Nancy thought it was nice to hear you admit that.
“Die from excitement or die from embarrassment?” Nancy laughed as you fell back against the bed. Her pillows sounded a “poof” as you laid against them.
“Hopefully not that latter.”
“I don’t think he would die from embarrassment… if my opinion means anything,” she returned the wand to the tube before sitting down beside your reclined figure on the bed. Nancy took your hand in hers and squeezed it.
“Eddie is the strangest, weirdest person I think I’ve ever laid eyes on but if he can make you happy, then that’s all I want for you.”
“Even after what I said about you and Steve the other day? You still want me to be the one to ride off into a sunset?”
Nancy shrugged, looking down at your hands entwined. “Sometimes the truth is hard to swallow. Maybe Steve just isn’t the one.”
“But he’s the Joel to your Lana.”
“Tonight, yeah,” she sighed, patting your hands with her free one, “but the bullshit has to stop. I just don’t know how to tell him.”
“Nance,” you fidgeted your hand out of hers and sat up on your elbows. Nancy’s room full of cream colors and pinks was juvenile while her experiences and feelings were far from it.
“It’s true though, isn’t it? It’s been two years and sometimes I feel like I don’t know him at all. Where his mind is at, concerns… I try and get him to open up but he just won’t. How am I supposed to be a good girlfriend when all he wants to do is party and hang with friends on the weekend?”
“This has to be your decision,” you told her candidly, “and perhaps after tonight you’ll feel differently.”
“We still on for breakfast tomorrow?” Nancy got up from the bed and went back to her dresser. “That way I can tell you all about it because Eddie’s taking you home.”
“Yeah, we’re still on.”
“And then you can tell me all about how Eddie is actually, surprisingly, a good kisser,” she laughed as you stuffed your head into her pillows.
“You really sound like Barb; you know that?”
“No, no,” Nancy shook her head, putting up a finger in the mirror, “Barb would say, ‘you really think Eddie Munson would be a good boyfriend? Don’t you remember when he hotboxed weed in his van at lunch last year and Chief Hopper had to tape off the parking spot because little kids were accidentally given a second-hand high?’ That’s what she’d say.”
“And then she’d ask if he made it to second base,” you grinned, turning over to stare at her ceiling. “Only to be followed with a very loud ‘eww, I can’t believe you did that!”
“I miss her,” Nancy said fondly, “she wasn’t the biggest fan of Steve but she’d want me to be happy. She’d want you to be happy to so,” she gave you that knowing look, “you’re gonna put on some red lipstick and drink a couple beers and by the time Eddie Munson knows what’s hit him, he’ll be so in love no other girl could compare.”
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Overwhelming.
That was the first word that popped into your mind when you thought of the scene around you. It was nine-thirty, there were cars parked sloppily on the grass and students scattered everywhere. The music was blasting from Tina’s stereo so loudly it might burst your eardrum by the time the night is over and it helped none that the one thing you wanted to find was missing—somewhere in the house or the yards but not beside you.
Third wheeling with Steve and Nancy wasn’t fun when they argued on the ride over.
You sat in the back of Steve’s BMW wishing to be sucked into the seat only to never be seen again. Nancy’s attitude shifted from excited to upset and Steve was just being an asshole about the whole “parties are fun and we’re going to stay the entire time” conversation that started the argument. Those feelings lingered when the car parked, when the three of you made it inside, and then when you found yourself stuffed into a corner beside a curio cabinet.
“Oh, God,” Nancy mumbled when Billy Hargrove—alongside Tommy Hagen and the rest of the goons who couldn’t separate themselves from the freshest meat—clocked the three of you standing away from the entry way’s makeshift dance floor. “Don’t start anything,” she told Steve who looked in the direction she stared.
Besides the crushing weight of the party on your shoulders, stepping out of your comfort zone in a Halloween costume that Nancy picked out for you made your hands shake with tension. The confident thoughts of earlier running out of your mind the second everyone started looking at you like a fish out of water. A couple guys whistled, the girls judged. There was no happy medium at a place like this.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new keg king, Harrington,” Tommy gloated as Billy challenged Steve. He pulled off his sunglasses and Nancy turned around to you.
“Let’s go get a drink, yeah?” She asked with pleading eyes. You glanced at the group of hot-shot boys—their gazes watching you and Nancy like pieces of meat for taking and it made your skin crawl.
“Yeah,” you let Nancy hook her pinky through yours as the two of you trekked past groups of your peers quickly getting drunk and eating scattered snacks in the kitchen. A couple, whom you didn’t know, were swapping tongues beside the stove.
On the counter beside open bottles of booze, a bowl fitted with dry ice and a ruby liquid sat being consumed by a boy in a toga. He chugged a red cup down before filling another one and doing the same. That was ‘pure fuel’ or the one drink that could send anyone to that drunken bliss with so much as a sip. Nancy peered into it like a mysterious lake.
“Do you want any?” She picked up two red solo cups, offering up one for you but you looked around for the fridge instead. Behind you, next to the two making out, the fridge was left cracked open.
“No,” you walked the small space to the fridge and grabbed a cold can of Pabst Blue Ribbon out of it. It was a party; Tina was going to buy the cheapest beer she could. “And I wouldn’t suggest you drink a ton of that either.”
“Why?” Nancy contested, swiping the cup into the bowl. “Aren’t we supposed to have fun? Get drunk and make stupid mistakes while we’re young? Just be stupid teenagers for one night.”
She was still pissed off at Steve.
“If you’re going to drink that,” you cracked open the can in relief when one of your nails didn’t break, “try to know your limit, alright? I don’t want to babysit you over the toilet later.”
“Deal,” she chugged the cup over the bowl as Steve rejoined the two of you. He began protesting her actions immediately and she replied by using his words against him—the same ones he used to argue to stay at the party. Nancy filled her cup again, slammed it, and wiped the excess of her face before leaving the two of you in the dust.
“You say somethin’ to her?” Steve turned to you with an accusatory glare. “She’s been weird all week.”
“She’s been weird or you’ve been ignoring her?” You countered unexpectedly.
“I haven’t been ignoring her.”
“I’ve seen you with Tammy Thompson more times than I can count this week and every day when Nance takes me home, you don’t kiss her goodbye.”
“We’re partners, remember?” Steve scoffed. “You should know that more than anyone. Where is the freak anyway? I can smell the weed; I know he’s here yet he’s not with you…” He was mad too. Steve and Nancy both angry at each other made everyone else in their paths feel the scorching ire of their pain.
“He’s not my date, Steve… He’s my partner, remember?”
Rolling your eyes, you brushed past him and left him in the kitchen alone. A quick escape through the door that led to the backyard let the cool breeze meet your face and the sting of Steve’s words fell from you. It was a rather nice October night. It was just cold enough where jackets could be enjoyed but the Midwestern urge to remain strong in the breeze left many without one. There was a bonfire raging in the back and friend groups scattered on the lawn.
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Katie Yang was sitting around the bonfire when her eyes caught the door to Tina’s house open and close.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull—not from the smell of weed surrounding her, but from the fact that Eddie hadn’t been lying.
An hour ago, Eddie rolled up to Tina’s with a backpack full of drugs yet that wasn’t what everyone talked about as the fast murmured rumors made their way through crowds of students like tidal wave. With the three other members of Hellfire that had been invited because they were seniors, the whispers surrounded them first before someone had the will to approach them.
“Shit,” She didn’t know their name, “did you hear about Munson?”
“What about him?” Katie asked them and they threw their head back, hair going a wild as they screeched.
“He’s dressed as fucking Danny Zuko! And not the cool one!”
“Danny Zuko…” Katie trailed off, furrowing her brows as she tried to place the name. “From Grease?”
Eddie was musical, yes, but he didn’t like a ton of musicals.
“You’re joking,” one of the members of Hellfire said before moving through the living room crowd and peeking out through the blinds of the closest window.
“Holy fucking shit!”
He stuck out like a sore thumb. He was wearing the classic all black, tight jeans with a white cardigan sweater embossed with a red ‘R’ sewed into the side. Eddie’s hair was pulled into a ponytail and while he didn’t wear the look often, some of the drunk girls in the yard were ogling him like they’d jump his bones in an instant. When he came inside, the students gawked before realizing their weed had arrived and while they jested with Eddie, their words didn’t hit him. Katie could see the way their words brushed off his shoulder and he kept looking at the door.
So, an hour after that she saw you walk out of Tina’s house dressed as Sandy, Katie had to bite back the first remark that came to mind. She picked a couple blades of grass off the ground as Eddie rolled papers next to her on a tree stump—the glow from the bonfire lighting his work.
“Why’d you decide to go as Danny?” Katie proposed, watching you lean against one of the columns and drink the rancid PBR like it was water.
“Why not?” Eddie replied but focused solely on the ratio of weed to paper in his lap. Every time he put a rolled one down next to him, someone would swipe it, light it, and disappear before he could complain.
“Didn’t take you for a man who’d grovel for a lady, that’s all.”
“I don’t grovel, Yang,” he quipped and she smiled, folding her arms over her bent legs and laying her head on it.
“Besides, you see me crawling now?” Eddie motioned to the papers in his lap. “Little miss Mary Jane is the priority right now.”
“You sure about that?”
Eddie heard the way she crooned, her eyes flicking from his own to the house. His heart skipped a beat. The knowledge that if he looked now, he’d see you there—perhaps not even looking in his direction—but available for him to admire for a time. Since the moment you told him you were going as Sandy, he dreamt, daydreamed, about what you’d look like. How the vision he conjured was nothing compared to the way you’d embrace every part of yourself in an outfit like that.
“I can roll, if you want,” Katie suggested as he contemplated throwing the weed on the ground and forgetting all about it. He did admit once that he’d consider going sober for you. Before he could even object, she took the baggie from beside him and put a hand out for the papers.
“Gareth told me all about it,” she admitted. Eddie couldn’t even be mad. “Go get that girl, Munson. It’s not every day your dreams come true.”
All he could muster was a tight smile for her.
There were a lot of people in the yard. Every face blurred the brighter the fire got; some littered in the grass, others standing, a few on stools or stumps. Your feet were aching as you gripped the banister to relieve the pressure. A half drank PBR clutched in one hand as you stared down at your feet. Eddie sauntered over to the house as you shifted your feet. His quiet steps against the grass not alerting you that he had been sitting in the backyard at all.
Eddie planted himself a foot away from the deck in front of you, swallowing his fears and trying to embody the voice of surprise that mimicked the exact moment in the movie. A little accent, a little bit of the ‘ol greaser swagger.
Just a guy, seeing a girl, and absolutely smitten in the way in which she looks.
“Mama!?”
And only Eddie could get that smile to creep onto your face.
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The not date, date was simple.
It had taken you an entire hour to find Eddie on a property no bigger than the Wheeler’s and the moment you heard his ‘surprised’ voice, you knew the evening had changed for the better. For two hours, you sat beside one another and just talked. He talked about his hobbies and joked about his nerdy interests while you detailed your own and he listened as intently as you had for his. In his stupid letterman cardigan and his stupid ponytailed hair, Eddie sat beside you on the deck—backs against the railing as you sat on the wood floor—and admitted that he hadn’t ever planned to wear a costume in the first place.
“So,” you knocked your heeled foot against his converse, “where in the world did you manage to find that sweater?”
“This old thing?” He pulled at the lapels, “I have a bunch of them in my closest. What? You’ve never seen me wear these before?” He lived for the giggle that left your lips. Painted in a candy red, it was hard not to look right at them.
“Oh, yeah,” you faked support for his lie, “all the time, Eddie. It’s your best look obviously.”
“That’s what I said!” Eddie cackled, drawing a can of beer to his lips. “Gareth helped me. His sister used to watch Grease all the time so he had a pretty good idea of what I was looking for.”
“I’ll have to thank him then,” you moved your hands to sit in your lap, fingernails making a small clicking sound as they met before looking over at him.
“Why?”
You leaned your head in as he would have done. “Because he helped you pick out those jeans.”
For a second, Eddie was stunned silent. His lip quirked, eyes sparkling and wide with utter fascination that you had just explicitly flirted with him when he had been planning to make all the moves on Halloween. It was his moment; his situation that he grasped tightly and ran with because if it wasn’t him, he felt it would slip through his fingers.
But you had just given him hope that his feelings may have not been one sided. That your kindness and acceptance of him wasn’t misplaced in pity but instead in attraction.
“Well,” he said lowly, “then I guess I have to thank Wheeler then, too.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because she told you to dress like this and I think you just walked out of a fantasy I didn’t know I had.”
The surge of butterflies hit your confidence like the wolf blowing down the house made of sticks—wavering for a second before standing tall again. Eddie had a blush dusting his cheeks yet he didn’t hide from you; a tightrope growing thicker for every word shared, every sentiment revealed and accepted.
“I guess I should dress like this all the time?”
Eddie nudged you playfully, appreciating that you reciprocated it and swayed back toward him. “I think I like the way you dress everyday a little bit more.”
“Yeah, me too. Kinda miss those rings… you're not ‘Eddie’ without them. Or the vest, leather jacket… any of it.”
He looked down at his ringless hands only to agree. There was a nakedness to his appearance without them. He had his necklace, but no bracelet, no rings, no chain, no handcuff belt, and it felt different even if it was just a costume.
“I am surprised you chose this Danny to dress up as.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, “I guess it’s ironic for me too.”
“Ironic?” He questioned. “How?”
“When Danny and Sandy realize they like each other,” you spoke carefully to find the right words. From the time you’ve spent with Eddie over the last week and two days, he listened to everything. He remembered much more than he let on and he read people, their emotions, and their words with caution; “they change themselves only to fall back to who they were because no one has to change to be loved.”
“Do you remember when I said you were too smart for your own good?”
You laughed, glancing at him for a second too long before biting your lip. “You don’t have to stop being ‘Eddie’ for people to like you. I’m more than content with Eddie Munson “rockstar” than I am Eddie Munson “letterman Danny Zuko.”
“Wow,” he said, drawing out the word slowly, “did the girl next door just say she liked me?”
Only Eddie would joke about it. And only Eddie could make you feel good about admitting it.
“Well,” he said when he let the thought process through him, “you should know that you don’t have to be “hot girl Sandy” for me to like you either. I am more than content with “head in a book” and “Bilbo’s mama” than I am “leather bound in red heels.” And as he did whenever he wanted to invade your personal space more than sitting close, he leaned in, down to your ear, “but before you run off and never wear this again, indulge me?”
You turned your head at his words. He was so close. The smell of his cologne mixed with two cans of beer, one joint, and three cigarettes right beside you—arms touching, head barely two inches from yours. If this was a fantasy and he had begun the conversation two hours before with one of the most iconic lines from the film, all you would have to do is embody her like Nancy had told you and reply in kind.
Eddie could see the cogs turning in your head. Thoughts on how to go about it racking every part.
“Come on,” he leaned back, scrambling to his feet so quickly he almost knocked over his can. Eddie extended a hand, helping you stand before leading you back to the closest end of the deck. He let go of your hand and held them out in front of him as if telling you to stay before backing away.
“Okay, wait, wait, wait!” Eddie dug into the pocket of his white sweater and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Tapping one from the pack, he held it up as an offering with enthusiastic eyes.
“Trust me, alright?”
You nodded, hands laid out along the railing of the deck on either side. The temptation was biting at him; the way you were effortlessly drawing him in. Closer and closer until he couldn’t breathe because he was so consumed by you that all he needed was one… little… taste.
He lifted his hand toward his face, showing you what he wanted. Eddie had the unlit cigarette between his pointer and middle fingers, pulling it away from his lips untouched.
“Open your mouth a little bit,” he said and watched as you followed his direction with no complaint.
Eddie stepped closer, hand going over your right arm that was outstretched to lift the cigarette toward your lips and inching the filter forward. You watched his eyes drift down, taking in the way your lips looked so different yet all the same coated in that red lipstick.
“You ever smoke before?” He asked lowly; voice an airless buzz against your face.
“Once or twice,” you admitted and he nodded, hair pulled back in a ponytail by a black scrunchie you could barely see. The sounds of Bon Jovi’s Runaway playing loudly around you.
“Then indulge me in this,” he replied as he let the filter land between your lips and let his fingers go. The cigarette teetered there between the red as they held it; Eddie not pulling back as he dug into his pocket again and pulled out a lighter.
“Still alright?”
You hummed around the stick and his knees nearly buckled at the sound. But he had to keep his cool. Eddie had to be suave; Eddie had to be tempting.
His thumb sparked the fire and it burned bright between you. The reflection of the blaze shining in both of your eyes and captivating, if only for a moment, the seconds before the brink.
Eddie held the flame to the other end and when it lit, he backed away quickly. He bit down on his lower lip, nodding for you to do it and briefly, you felt a little ridiculous as the scattered students of Hawkins high disappeared around you. Their presence not important compared to the one dressed as letterman Danny Zuko.
The butt sizzled and flashed its angry red. You had yet to breathe it in. Eyes watching his every gesture as he stood there, waiting expectantly for you to make the move. He made his, you make yours, and then he would have to go again. A game of chess with two idiots in love.
Your demeanor changed when you breathed in the stick for the first time. Once or twice his ass, Eddie thought as you didn’t even lift your hands off the railings to grab it away from your lips—just held it there between them as the smoke escaped from the sides.
‘If he can make you happy, then that’s all I want for you,’ Nancy’s admission playing loudly in your head that balanced the rapid thumping of your heart.
If you hadn’t known Eddie held a candle for you before, the way he was looking at you now was enough. If his admission wasn’t enough, his eyes were. Utterly captivated by the way you stood—confident and seductive. Hip slightly jutted out, your heeled feet helped bend one leg and the image was perfect. Seared into his brain forever as the moment he realized that you were the one in his dreams.
A fantasy where he was the strapping Aragorn—a hero, courageous and strong, with his Arwen—timeless and headstrong, kind and forgiving.
Your eyes broke away from his stare and out to the yard. The cigarette’s smoke left your lips again. Eddie rose both of his hands into a prayer position; fingers meeting and resting against his lips right under his nose. The anticipation was killing him.
In an instant, your eyes returned and what he saw sent him to an early grave. He met his maker and was cast away like Icarus as you adjusted the way your posture presented you from the top of your head, out your fingers, and through your toes.
Sandy to Frenchie to Rizzo be dammed. You embodied something greater than them all and he was lucky enough to be at the receiving end of it.
And then you said it.
You indulged him in a fantasy he didn’t even know he had until you told him what you were going as.
“Tell me about it,” manicured fingers took the cigarette away from your lips and the smoke billowed into the night, “stud.”
And like Sandy does in the film, you dropped the cigarette and put it out with your shoe, arms going back to the decks railing and looking back at Eddie. Checkmate.
However, Eddie couldn’t have you get the checkmate. He couldn’t have you be the one to end up on top when he had been planning this for days. Since the moment he shrieked outside of Gareth’s window that he had a crush on you—fully formed and not a silly grade school one that made him want to tug pigtails and call you names. Eddie shook his head, dropping his hands from their position and drew close. He caged you into that spot and with the permission in your eyes, one of his hands grazed your side.
A brush of knuckles along the fabric of your shirt, belt, then pants, before his palm became certain. Running along the same track his knuckles had just traced before settling on your waist.
“Indulge me one more thing,” Eddie’s breath barely hitched when you rested one hand on the arm he had around you and the other gripped his sweater. He took his other hand and rested it on your jaw, thumb caressing a spot as his fingers gingerly held your head.
“Let me take you out. On a real date where I can bring you flowers,” he smiled the same time you did, “and your dad can tell me to have you home by nine but I’ll have you back at nine-o-five because I can’t stop kissing you in my shitty van.”
You pulled him closer, hand clutching his sweater tightly to keep him to you. “You beat me to it.”
“Yeah, mama?” He smiled, eyes consistently trained on your red lips. “You gonna ask me out?”
“I can’t,” you could barely function with the way your heart leapt, “I’ve already got a date.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Yes and are you gonna kiss me, Munson? I don’t think I can—“
Eddie didn’t let you finish. He pressed his lips to yours and you accepted them eagerly. His gentle touch a haven as the deal was sealed. Your hand that rested on his forearm moved to his hair, tugging out the scrunchie because if you were going to kiss Eddie, all of him had to be part of it. He reveled the feeling of your fingers weaving into his hair; lips threatening to grin as he got his girl and you got your boy. Nervousness subsiding, all that was left was the tenderness of being two people in love.
No longer two idiots in love; no longer two fake parenting partners.
But a pair fit like two puzzle pieces made for one another.
And when Mr. Allen collected the dolls on Monday, he revealed that each had a floppy disk inside their plush bodies that recorded the number of tantrums and minutes passed between them until soothed. As it turned out, you and Eddie had the best times in the class and in all of Mr. Allen’s years of teaching, Eddie Munson was the first one to prove him wrong. The ‘A’ on top of his assignment sheet at the end of that week became his most important achievement at the time.
Not because he managed to care for a fake baby, but because in the end, he walked out of the class hand and hand with you knowing that everything—no matter what would happen in his life—would be okay.
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[Mario Bonus Round Sound: Oh, Baby, it’s Real]
The early morning sunlight trickled into the room from the breaks in the blinds. Everything was sterile; light woods and itchy fabrics, the bed wasn’t comfortable but it was better than the chair. A bag sat in the corner unzipped and its contents unflatteringly pulled out of it. There were fast food wrappers on a tray table with empty cups sitting on the windowsill ready to be basked in sunlight.
Eddie had never been more tired.
The chaise was a second option because he couldn’t have the bed and he would never ask to have it anyway. The chair had grown increasingly unworthy of his attention after sixteen hours of pacing and sitting, pacing and sitting. He could barely keep his eyes open. The kind of tired that Eddie was feeling made everything sluggish; his body laid out on the green piece of furniture, his hand skimmed the cold tile floor as the sounds of a tile cleaner passed by the closed door.
If someone asked eighteen-year-old Eddie Munson where he thought he’d be at thirty, sitting here, in a hospital in Los Angeles would not be his first assumption.
Mega rockstar? Hot-shot guitarist with the best hair? Those were more probable than this.
But he let the whirring of the machine act as white noise. However, in the life that he wouldn’t trade for anything, quiet never lasted long.
“Mr. Munson?” A hand shook his shoulder, nudging the sleep he wished for into the back of his mind to be dreamt of another time.
“Mr. Munson,” the voice called again. Eddie cracked an eye open and saw the nurse give him a small smile, pity for the obvious tiredness that drooped from his face. “I’m sorry to wake you but there are visitors outside and I didn’t want to bring them in because of…”
She didn’t need to say it. People posing to be friends or family just to get a picture or a story. It was something he had to deal with, yet never got used to. It wasn’t natural nor normal to have to hide pieces of a person’s life because people felt entitled to every piece of them. The price of fame was high; the balance of privacy and publicity was a difficult seesaw.
Eddie sat up, the nurse pulling back and waiting for him at the door. She had seen many people walk through these halls, sit and stay by their partner’s side during the most life changing moment they’d ever have and Eddie was no different than the best of them. As he past the bed, he rubbed a foot covered in a yellow blanket and hospital grade sheets gently before exiting the room.
“I put them in a room down here because they were adamant that they were family,” she told him, her glasses swinging on her scrubs and hair graying at the roots. “One young man was particularly vibrant in his language… Claims he’s her brother but I don’t think they look anything alike.”
Eddie chuckled, squeezing the woman’s shoulder as she pointed to the door that she had huddled them all in. “I think I know exactly who that is actually.”
“If you bring them in the room, have them try to be quiet. You don’t see much silence up here and I’d rather give the opportunity for peaceful rest.”
“Will do,” he said but deep down, he felt that silence wouldn’t last if the gaggle of people he believed to be beyond the door to the other room turned to be true.
“Congratulations again,” she said and left him in the hall.
Eddie could hear the chatter beyond the threshold; bickering and the distinct sound of plastic wrap around flowers and balloons crinkling through the air. His life had changed so much from 1984. Each year more difficult and challenging—unprecedented and terrifying but here he was, an established adult man with his life (sort of) put together. Everything was clicking into place and most of it stemmed from the moment Steve Harrington and a girl named Lisa drew two names out of Mr. Allen’s bowls from home.
He walked through the doorway and saw fifteen smiling, giddy faces beaming back at him with balloons, bags, and flowers in their hands. Dustin was holding a teddy bear, El, Max, and Lucas were carrying bags of food for everyone to eat for lunch.
“Surprise!” They shouted in scattered exclamations of excited cheers.
Eddie had never been so happy to have a family—one of his own and one of his choosing.
Dustin was the first to barrel into him, throwing his arms around Eddie and hugging him tightly. It set off a chain reaction in the room. Arms and bodies squished, Eddie couldn’t tell if it was Hopper, Wayne, or your dad who rubbed the top of his head like he was a dog. Either way, the love was felt; the love was absorbed and it spread further into the hospital than just that little room. Fifteen connected souls bonding over something new.
“Congrats man,” Steve extended a hand, grasping Eddie’s with a firm grip as Robin hung off his shoulder. “Never thought I’d see you like this. But it also confirms that you and Y/n do the deed and I don’t like thinking about that.”
“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled tiredly. They could see how drained he was. Only the older ones in the room could relate to how Eddie was feeling. “I didn’t think I’d ever be here either.”
“But you know what?” Nancy piped up from beside Steve. “I never had a doubt that you’d be a good dad.”
“Thanks, Wheeler,” hearing that from Nancy meant a lot. Dustin popped up again from beside Nancy, tucking himself in between her and Eddie. He still had that bear clutched in his hands.
“Can we meet him?”
El looked excitedly at him, “can I hold him!?” It was her first time doing something like this.
“Only if you keep your trap closed,” Eddie warned Dustin, face serious as it could be. “That nurse will kick my ass if you throw a rager in there, alright? So keep the volume low…” Eddie stopped, thinking on it for a second. Fifteen people all at once would be like running a race on a Hawkins street with a million other people. “And we’ll go in groups. Grandparents first, then godparents, then everyone else, ‘Kay?”
“Eye-eye captain,” Dustin saluted him but kept on Eddie’s heels as everyone exited the empty room to transition to one with two. The door was left cracked open, the quiet nature of the room wanting to be left undisturbed had to be broken.
They had traveled all this way for this moment.
“Let me go in first,” Eddie told them, the older adults giving him fond smiles because he was taking it as seriously as they hoped he did. Maybe that project parenthood assignment had left a lingering impact on him. Maybe Eddie Munson had just matured into the person he always wished his parents were and wasn’t going to screw it up because life could be unkind sometimes. “I’ll come get you.”
Fifteen people who hailed from Hawkins were left in the hallway as Eddie re-entered the room. He tried to keep his footsteps quiet but in the end, it was useless because the second he turned the small corner that blocked his view of the bed, you were sitting up with the television remote in your hand. Across the way, Grease played silently on the screen.
“What’s wrong?” You asked him as you tried to keep your voice low. “Did something happen?”
Eddie shook his head, walking straight over to the side of the bed where he took your hand, kissing the back of it before rubbing his thumb against the back of it.
“We’ve got a party bus of visitors from Indiana,” he said, looking over you to the plastic bassinet that was positioned beside the bed. Wrapped in a white blanket—in a perfect swaddle—was his little boy. “They’re all waiting outside the door and won’t take no for an answer,” he joked.
“My parents out there? Wayne?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, thumb still running across the back of your hand. “I think your mom has already cried. Her eyes are kind of puffy.”
“Don’t tell her that,” you muttered, taking your own look at the little bundle. On the sticker behind his little head, one last name, un-hyphenated, was written in black ink behind him. One family, one unit.
But his name wasn’t Bilbo.
“Can they come in?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “just tell them to be quiet.”
Eddie smiled at you. Even in his tiredness, he could never hide the joy in his eyes. He was proud, eons beyond it in reality, but you had given him something he’d never dreamed of. A family. He would always have Wayne but now he had your parents, he had the kids, he had friends beyond Corroded Coffin and the people he worked with.
“I love you. You know that right?” He ran his free hand over your forehead, brushing the hair there and bending down to leave a kiss.
“You tell me every day,” you smiled, “and I love you too.”
“Then I guess he should meet his grandparents, huh?”
And when Eddie brought in your parents, Wayne, Hopper and Joyce, the sight brought you back to the first time Eddie ever stepped foot in your house.
How your dad watched reruns on the T.V. while you peeked out the blinds for him. He had known it then that Eddie was your forever. An arm wrapped around the man he considered to be the closest thing to a son he’d ever have, your father smiled at you the moment he saw the look in your eyes. Your mother skipped you completely and cooed at the little boy.
“Oh, baby,” she whispered at his chubby little face, “you have the best parents in the world.”
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Tag List (Closed):
Thank you all for reading and supporting this fic series. I hope you enjoyed the last part and will stick around for any other Eddie writings I may do in the future. If you have been tagged in the tag list, I would humbly ask that you like and reblog to support but I also love reading and interacting with comments! I just love to hear from everyone so chat away—I want to know your thoughts.
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mrvlbimbo · 2 years
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Okay but picture this (pls make this a fic omg) Eddie coming home after a club meeting that went rlly well and he’s super pent up and energized and he gets into his room and he’s greeted with the sight of his sweet y/n on his bed in the cutest pink lingerie set waiting to have him basically rearrange her organs, and ofc he does cause how could he say no to his needy girl :(
Oblivious
18+ (this is pure smut)
Eddie never tried to be inconsiderate, he really didn’t. But sometimes there was just so much going through his head he forgot to think about anyone other than himself.
So when he got home still riled from a really good dnd session, his girlfriend knew it was going to be a long night. Unfortunately not in the way she was hoping
He burst through the door full of energy, monologging about whatever (she really couldn’t care less) “Eddie,” she said softly, trying to draw his attention to her and what she was wearing.
She had though, since his recent campaign was finally over, he might have some time for her that night. So she had bought a very fancy and very expensive pink lingerie set to surprise him.
Unfortunately he didn’t seem to notice or care, instead focusing on rambling about his dnd session.
As much as she loved to listen to him ramble, it was getting tiring. “Eddie,” she repeated, raising her voice a bit this time. He noticed that, energetically striding over to her and grabbing her shoulders to press a sloppy kiss to her forehead.
“love you babe,” he greeted before returning to pace the room.
She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, content to watch him and his ramblings for the time being.
Of course he would apologize profusely if she ever voiced that she felt like he was ignoring her, which is why she never would. She knew he didn’t mean anything by it, and she would be lying if she said his easily distracted nature wasn’t cute as hell.
Eventually he settled beside her, having tired himself out. “Sorry. You wanted to say something didn’t you?” He asked apologetically, pulling her into his arms.
The confidence she had when he walked in had waned. So she grumbled and hid her face in his chest when he asked.
“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he chastised, sliding his hand against the back of her head to tilt her face up and meet her eyes.
She pushed away from him, hiding her face in one hand and sitting back on her thighs. “Ok ok. I have something to show you. Lay back.” He sat up and she pressed against his chest, pushing him to sit against the headboard and straddling him.
She sat on his lap, hands running nervously over his chest. “Well? What did you want to show me?” He asked, already anticipating what was going to happen. Or so he thought.
She reached for the tie on her matching pink robe, hands flinching away before she could untie it. “I feel dumb. This feels dumb.”
“Baaaaabe. Nothing you do is dumb. Except for when you think anything you do is dumb,” Eddie whined, clutching her hips in his large hands and pressing her closer to him.
“That makes no sense,” she giggled, guiding his hands to the tie instead.
He twirled his fingers in the fabric, taking his sweet time removing the robe. “Yeah. But I love you.”
When the fabric finally fell off her shoulders, his eyes almost popped out of his head from staring. “Fucking hell babe. Wow.” His hands rubbed over her hips and thighs, one eventually coming down to cup her clothed cunt.
“Oh fuck. Eddie,” she moaned when he started pressing down with two fingers, gently massaging her clit.
From the state of her panties he could tell she was wet far before he started touching her. “Mmmm what’s got you all worked up?”
“You. Always you,” she gasped out when he slid the underwear to the side and started touching her without the barrier in the way.
“M so sorry for ignoring you baby.” He pouted, sliding two fingers into her. She arched her back at the intrusion, moaning into his mouth that was now pressed to hers in an apology of sorts.
She rolled her hips, fucking his fingers into her. “Please. Please.”
“Please what, babygirl?” He teased, removing his fingers and freeing himself from his boxers. He rubbed the tip of himself over her slit.
He was already slipping in before she had to ask. “Your cock. Please,” she whined as if she wasn’t already full of him, rolling her hips furiously to get any friction.
“You’ve been needing me all day, huh?” He started slowly, gripping her hips and sliding her up and down over him.
“Eddie!” She screamed when he hit a particularly deep spot inside of her.
“I’m. Such. A. Dick,” he choked out through deep thrusts into her. She whimpered, clutching his shoulders and pressing herself down in time with the motion of his hips. “M sorry for not givin my girl what she needs,” he admitted breathily, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead before spilling inside of her.
“Mmmm s’okay,” she slurred, hazy from her own orgasm. She cuddled into his chest as he moved both of them to lay down.
“You forgive me?” He asked, cupping her face to look in her eyes. His thumb brushed her cheek in a delightfully intimate way, causing her to arch into his touch once again.
“Yeah,” she sighed happily, kissing his jaw before ducking her head against his chest.
Taglist:
@angelsarecallin @sebby-staan @niviiera @chaoticgurl @evqans @slut-for-matt-murdock @multihaven
(Lmk if u want to be added)
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sapphire-weapon · 7 months
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Up to this point in SW, Ada's exposure to Leon has been:
Seeing him during the village fight and then ringing the bell for him
Seeing him getting choked out by Mendez, then watching him stumble his ass over to the gate, unlock it, and head back towards the village
Luis's radio call to him at the start of his castle section
Their very first scene together in his campaign
The "babysitting's tough, huh?" conversation
Seeing him run over to a dying Luis
The "I guess you're not heartless" conversation
That's it.
So, let's explore Ada's feelings as she goes through Separate Ways with regards to Leon, Ashley, and herself.
The very first time Ada hears Leon's voice, it's him teasing Ashley with:
"I wanted to go home, but Ashley had to see this castle first."
The very first time Ada speaks to Leon herself, the first expression of emotion he shows is when she tells him to leave Ashley behind -- and it's anger at her.
The very first time Ada sees Ashley in person, it's this moment ^^^ in the shots.
This is what I mean by SW making the main campaign feel like "The Leon and Ashley Show" from Ada's perspective. Of those seven encounters, four of them have been about Ashley. In fact, the only conversations that Leon and Ada have had up to this point have been about Ashley.
And this happens over and over and over and over again. Ada can't seem to catch Leon at all without Ashley also being in the picture in some way. The boat scene is literally the only conversation they have or moment they share where Ashley doesn't come up at all.
This is what I mean when I say that SW feels like Ada's being forced to bear witness to what her relationship with Leon could have been in Raccoon City if only she'd been honest and genuine with him up front.
The point of having Ada listen in on the "Ashley had to see the castle" line was so that she became aware of what the relationship between Leon and Ashley was actually like. It isn't just business between them; it's warm and playful.
And Ada rejects that, at first. She outright denies it to herself. That's what's really at the heart of her telling Leon to leave Ashley behind -- because Ada, at first, almost doesn't confront Leon at all. She damn near leaves the room before he walks in, but then she thinks better of it at the very last second.
The full line of dialogue of:
"Leave the girl. She's lost no matter what. You walk away now, and who knows? Maybe you'll live to meet me again. And then I might get you that 'greeting' you were looking for."
immediately follows her openly hitting on him ("Not a bad move. Very smooth."), to which he has no reaction. And so she gets more explicit with him. Let's break it down:
"Leave Ashley. She's not important. If you leave her, you'll finally get to have me. That's what you really want, right?"
That's why her actual line isn't framed as a warning. She doesn't double down on it when Leon pushes back on it; her response is: "Right. How about we continue this discussion another time?" It's not about Ashley turning or not turning -- it's not about Leon saving her. It's about Ada offering herself and then feeling "what the fuck" about it when the offer is refused.
But she still denies it to herself. That's why her follow-up line of dialogue once she jumps out of the window is a very coy "See you around, Leon." She still isn't ready to accept that she's been replaced as the focus of his attention and affection -- hence the pettiness of her "Babysitting's tough, huh?" line.
Her attitude only starts to change after Luis's death -- when his dying wish is for her to help Leon. So, Ada puts her pettiness aside and switches from demeaning and belittling Ashley to referring to her as "your friend" instead. It shows a degree of respect while still removing the overt affection from the equation.
But then Krauser runs off with Ashley. Leon's anger boils over, and he shoots Salazar in the face. And now, Ada's reaction is:
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But when she finds him right on her heels because he's that fucking pissed and that fucking determined to go after Krauser for Ashley's sake, it still catches her by surprise. It speaks to the depth of Leon's concern and affection for Ashley.
Once again, it reaffirms that Ashley's not just a mission objective to Leon. It's personal, for him.
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This leads directly into the boat scene, where Ada tells Leon that his greatest strength is still the love and compassion he has for other people...
... though it's not as if he hears her at all.
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The next time Ada sees or hears from Leon, it's her walking in on the "for Luis" scene.
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Even though Capcom went out of their way to make sure that Leon and Ashley didn't hold hands because they didn't want people to ship them, because, as we all know, holding hands is a universal sign of romance so that's exactly what they were talking about for sure and hi I'm twelve years old and I don't know how exaggerated anecdotes work what is this? anyway so Leon and Ashley hold hands in this scene even though that's not what Capcom wanted
I mean
Along with the pep talk scene, this is the most intimate scene in the game. Ada is intruding on a very private, vulnerable moment between Leon and Ashley that ends in a promise:
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"For Luis."
This is Ada's affirmation that Luis wasn't jerking her around -- he was being genuine about wanting to help Leon and Ashley, and now they're committed to honoring his memory and granting him his dying wish.
And Ada's pettiness finally melts away -- at least, for a time. They have their way of honoring Luis, so now it's time for her to do it her way.
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Suddenly, Leon and Ashley's closeness doesn't matter to her anymore -- because it's not about them, and it's not about her. It's about Luis.
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Walking out of the comms facility, she hears Ashley successfully fighting off Saddler. Interesting framing here with the jet ski in the foreground.
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But interestingly, Ada's focus doesn't fall to her.
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There's actually not a single moment in this game where Ada says Ashley's name out loud. Ashley is either "her" or "the girl" or "the president's daughter." No matter how far she comes in this, Ada still can't let go of that last little bit of pettiness. It's still personal for her, and the only reason why Ada helps Ashley at all is because it also helps Leon, which in turn honors Luis.
So, she does do it.
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But not for Ashley's sake.
And she isn't about to go out of her way, either.
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And then we reach the apex of it all.
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Ashley's watching Leon's fight with Saddler with her hands clasped against her chest as though in prayer, as embers float around her like fireflies. This is overtly romantic imagery. I've said this before but: this is so romantic in its imagery and symbolism that it's just straight up on the level of Final Fantasy nonsense.
And not only is Ada forced to reckon with that, but the first and only thing out of Ashley's mouth to her is an order. Not a request. Not a plea. An order.
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And all Ada can say in return is:
"On it."
She's lost this fight.
Leon and Ashley (and Luis, to an extent) are a team, and Ada isn't part of that team. She sees it in this moment. Ashley is so comfortable in her place at Leon's side that Ada is a non-factor in the equation all together. That's why she wasn't in the lab with them. Ada acted as Luis's substitute, but in the lab, he was still with them.
"All of this -- removing the parasites -- this was Luis?" "Yeah. We're alive thanks to him."
The matching scars that Leon and Ashley end up with as a result of their radiation surgery are different from the matching scars that Leon and Ada have.
Leon and Ada's scars are a symbol that they once carried the same consequences born of the same mistakes.
Leon and Ashley's scars are a symbol that they once carried each other.
And that’s a huge fucking difference.
Ada feels that difference in that moment.
There is no "Who was that woman, anyway?" "She's like a part of me I can't let go" in this version of the story, because Leon has long since let her go.
And so her pettiness comes back. At the very end, she shoots her final shot:
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It's a bookend for and a direct callback to what we were talking about earlier:
"Leave the girl. She's lost no matter what. You walk away now, and who knows? Maybe you'll live to meet me again. And then I might get you that 'greeting' you were looking for."
which really meant:
"Leave Ashley. She's not important. If you leave her, you'll finally get to have me. That's what you really want, right?"
and led into:
"Right. How about we continue this discussion another time?"
She's ready to continue the discussion. One last ditch effort to see if all love is lost between them.
Leon's answer is very clear.
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The Leon and Ashley Show isn't over, but Ada's role in it is.
Which leaves her to wonder who and what, exactly, she'll be the next time she and Leon meet now that her status as The Love Interest has been completely and utterly usurped.
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ceilingfan5 · 6 months
Text
boy enrichment
happy friday! another one for @taznovembercelebration "YES"
“So like, I don’t know any of this nerd shit,” Taako says, flipping his hair a little. “But the lil’ man wants to play, and I want him to get to play, because the next time he gets the zoomies and I have to play Risk I’m gonna fuckin’ Risk It All, you know what I mean? No offence, Ango.” 
“None taken, sir! If I took offence at all of your flippant and seemingly disparaging comments made to distance yourself from real feelings and maintain the dangerously seductive comfort of irony, I’d be in a sorry state, probably!” Angus grins a great big gap toothed grin, not even looking at Taako, who just sort of accepts this as normal. Both of them look at Kravitz expectantly, and he, stunned, realized he’s meant to be formulating an answer and not just being more floored than the sad, sad fucking arcade carpet he won’t replace because he’d have to lose like, a WEEK of business. 
Also it’s vintage. 
“But I’m not!” Angus says, probably for Kravitz’s benefit, and also as a politer way to kick someone under the table, especially when you cannot kick under the counter of his game store. 
“Right,” Kravitz says. “So you want to play DnD.”
“Oh, more than anything, sir!” Angus does a little wiggle that betrays the absolute carbonated excitement lurking under his carefully controlled little bow-tie ass calm. “But even, perhaps, if it were possible to be more than anything and then more than that again, as how some infinities are larger than other infinities, as you may remember from the siren song of calculus, I really, really want to DM!”
“You want to DM?” Kravitz eyes the ten year old. Ten? He thinks Taako said ten. He might have also said five, and that’s definitely not true. Probably. No, definitely. Five is like double toddler. Right? Double and a half? “Dungeon Master,” Angus says helpfully, opening his mouth and taking a thrilled deep breath to elaborate ‘for Kravitz’s benefit’. 
“Right. Well, sh- heck, young man, uh, I admire your enthusiasm,”
“Don’t worry, you can swear in front of me! I’m perfectly well aware of what sort of words you say in what sort of situations. In fact, I’ve been learning a lot about code-switching, and-”
“Hey, lil’man, you gotta win the sale to infodump,” Taako nudges in a stage whisper.
“Right!!!!!” Angus straightens up, vibrating like a Looney Toons arrow. “Regardless, would it be possible to DM at your game store Mr. Kravitz? I promise I would follow any rules and guidelines you set out as appropriate based on your store code of conduct, even if they’re stupid, and Taako can help me bring snacks if that is acceptable!”
Kravitz laughs, getting the hang of it now. He gets it. Maybe he doesn’t get Angus specifically yet, or even kids in general, but oh, does he recognize this flavor. And he would fucking love to enable it as far as he’s allowed. 
“You know what, I do think I have an open table. I’ll put out feelers and see who’s interested. Do you mind a rotating party, or would you prefer to lock in for a certain amount of time?”
“Hmmmm,” Angus says, screwing up his face and clearly mentally flipping through his campaign notes. “Let me consider and prioritize.”
“Yeah, you consider and prioritize, maybe shop around a little, and I’ll chat with your, uh,”
“Taako,” Taako smoulders, which provides no fucking context whatsoever. Who are you to him. ELABORATE!!
“Taako,” Kravitz agrees with a smile. 
Angus bolts off so fast to look at the campaign books and dice that he leaves an Angus-shaped cloud behind, and Taako and Kravitz stifle laughter, because it’s still not like, a huge store, and the little guy probably hears everything he isn’t supposed to. 
“Precocious,” Kravitz says fondly. “You don’t know the half of it,” Taako sighs. “I can’t keep up with him half the time. But man, he cares so hard it wears a hole through me and when I eat it falls out of me like a cartoon skeleton.”
“So true.” Kravitz can’t help but laugh. They’re more the same than Taako may realize. They reek of the same vibe, like the kind of candle you wanna take a big bite out of. “He’s yours?”
“Insomuch as a stray cat is yours, you know?” Taako leans on the game counter and sigh, toying with his hair again, which Kravitz recognizes is a flirting technique and is somehow still kneecapped by. “Like, you can be like, hey, who the fuck lets cats outside? They’re gonna decimate the goddamn bird population, and then where will we be?”
“Ten percent less birdful,” Kravitz says, like that’s a reasonable thing any person has ever said on planet Earth, ever. 
Taako nods, which does nothing to discourage Kravitz’s bullshit. 
“But like, seriously, his legal guardians don’t do shit, and yadda yadda yadda,”
“Plot plot lore,  Kravitz agrees. 
“He’s mine, sort of. He comes and eats my food, at least, you know, when he doesn’t have to fight possums for it.” 
“Does the possum have a name?” Kravitz grins. 
“Garyl,” Taako says, whipping back just as fast. Fuck, Kravitz is obsessed with him. Damn, he had things to do. “He used to be a binicorn in another life, but he can’t escape the cycle, so he came back as a trash gargler. His favorite cheese is provolone.”
“Ooh, mild,” Kravitz says, so outside of himself at the moment that he could pause the livestream and do football drawings and commentary on his own stupid face putting these noises in this order. But Taako laughs, so it’s worth it. He looks at Angus, who is carefully inspecting the Bucket O’ Dice, and digging frantically for one he’s spotted in the very bottom. “I almost want to go open another pound of dice and pour them in, you know, for uh…boy enrichment.”
“Boy enrichment is the name of the game,” Taako agrees. “That tiger needs beefier meat pumpkins than cha’boi can provide. I can’t keep up with him, seriously. I was hoping maybe you’d know more about this shit?”
“Yeah, a little,” Kravitz massively understates, feeling a glowing, strong bond form between him and this alleycat of a kid. “I’d love to let him find his footing here, if you want. And if people want to be freaks about it, I’m not having it.”
“Fuck yeah,” Taako mumbles. “Knew I could trust a pretty guy like you. No one’s snapped you up yet?”
“Too goth and weird,” Kravitz laments, like he isn’t having a heart attack about being called pretty. “I’m as single as the day is long.” 
“Well, it’s Daylight Savings Time, bitch, and it’s about to get real dark.” 
“Are you-” Kravitz can’t help but laugh. “Are you announcing your intentions to pursue me?”
“Is it working?” Taako winks. 
“Yes,” Kravitz has to admit. “Yes it is."
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[ID: a gameboard with 15 spaces, 1-5 taken up by stickers of a cat, a fish, "good worker", a door, and a dragon]
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livwritesstuff · 5 months
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More steddie dads content I really want some Eddie centered like teaching the girls guitar or dnd especially since Robbie is like him I think that they’d bind over a shared interest and he’d teach her stuff from when he was younger!
lol yeah the last few have def been more steve-centric (and also kind of a bummer) so let's switch up the vibe a bit
So, yes, Robbie is Eddie's daughter through and through.
She's stubborn and brazen and loud in her opinions and beliefs. She can be a little flippant about other peoples' feelings when she's not careful, and sometimes struggles to acknowledge the validity in other experiences outside of her own - in other words, she's Eddie to a T. She's even got the same big curly hair (though it's way more well-maintained than Eddie's had been thanks to Steve).
As for hobbies, Robbie is the only one out of Eddie and Steve's three daughters to really take an interest in music.
Eddie is thrilled about this, especially in the early days when Robbie is seven or eight and dying to try out any instrument they put in front of her. She has a natural proclivity for nearly all of them, which is fucking wild to Eddie, but the violin is the one she takes a particular shining towards.
Eddie can't say he'd ever had a resounding interest in classical music, but he wants to support Robbie so he dives into it right along with her.
That shit...
is metal as hell.
Seriously rad.
Eddie anxiously waits for her to be old enough to try out his old electric guitar. He waits until she's fifteen years old - the same age he'd been when he'd gotten his first electric - and then he digs it out of storage and bestows it upon her like the exquisite treasure it truly is.
In true teenager fashion, Robbie is...unimpressed.
She humors him for a bit, and to her credit, she does seem at least a bit intrigued by the almost forty-year-old guitar, but when Eddie offers to show her how to play, she only shrugs.
"I don't want to mess with my technique," she tells him, as if she's not shattering his heart into a bazillion tiny pieces.
"What does that even mean?"
"I dunno," she shrugs again.
Later, once the guitar has been safely put away, Eddie recounts the exchange to Steve.
"I just don't get it," he laments, "She'd be so good at it! I don't get why she won't just give it one chance."
"She's you, my love," Steve tells him, "Are you forgetting all the years you spent rejecting everything outside of what you deemed acceptable. You grew out of it. She will too."
So Eddie resigns himself to waiting it out. Robbie ends up deciding she wants make a career out of playing the violin, and she goes to New York to get her bachelors in music.
Just as Steve had predicted, once she hits college and grows up a little bit, she starts seeing the value in the world outside of the small corner of it she occupies. She comes home from her first semester regaling them with all the things she'd learned, and she catches Eddie by surprise when she asks him to bring out his old electric guitar.
Eddie and Robbie jam in the basement for like five hours before Steve insists they go the fuck to bed, and that "Hazel has school in the morning, in case you lunatics forgot."
(As for dnd, looking at it from the perspective of teenage girls, Steve and Eddie's kids absolutely do not want to think about their dad DM-ing. Eddie can't even breathe the wrong way without his daughters calling him out for being cringe or whatever, never mind executing a whole campaign. They'd die of embarrassment - guaranteed.
Robbie does get super into MTG in college, which Eddie absolutely takes as a personal F-You from his daughter. He gets his revenge by refusing her offers to teach him to play, even though it honestly sounds like a fuckin' blast, but that's a hill he's willing to die on)
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