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solarmorrigan · 3 months

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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The days pass like cold mud – slow, uncomfortable, and relentless.

But they do pass.

Eddie had said he could give Steve the time he needed, and he’d meant it; he would wait out the two weeks and be there on the other side to talk to him. To hope for a second chance.

They see each other here and there, mostly in passing: Steve comes to pick a few of the kids up from a gaming session; Eddie stops in at Family Video with Jeff, Gareth, and Oliver to grab a movie (where Jeff and Steve exchange a surprisingly friendly greeting); they occupy separate sides of the room at a group dinner.

Each time, Eddie is sure to at least acknowledge and wave at Steve, in spite of any protective hovering and scowling Robin might be doing if she happens to be present. Steve gives cautious nods in return at first, but as they near the deadline, he’s returning Eddie’s distant greetings with a hesitant smile and that ridiculous little finger-wiggle wave that Eddie had been reluctantly charmed by in the beginning.

And in the meantime, Eddie plots.

He is not, by nature, an optimist (strangely, between the two of them, that’s Steve’s area), but in this instance, he plans for the best: the idea that Steve will say yes and let Eddie take him on a proper date. And as improvisational as Eddie likes to be, he’s also a veteran dungeon master and plotter of all sorts of campaigns; if you want long-term plans to go off without a hitch, it pays to be prepared.

So, he plots.

He brainstorms and makes lists of all of Steve’s favorite things and schemes out elaborate romantic gestures and draws on all the knowledge he’s retained from the romcoms he’d whined about having to watch with Steve but had always given in over when Steve gave him that puppy-eyed look that Eddie has no defense against.

(And somehow, he’d continued to think they were just friends. His lack of awareness should be studied as a scientific anomaly.)

He thinks Steve would be proud of his accumulated work (and Eddie himself isn’t ashamed of it, but all the same, he makes sure to hide the notebook where none of the guys will ever, ever stumble across it, because they would never, ever let Eddie live it down).

In any case, the ticking down of two weeks finally comes to an end, and Eddie stands in front of the phone earlier than he’d normally care to be awake, hoping that his work will pay off.

Steve picks up before the fourth ring, just like he always does, and answers the phone like a dork, just like he always does.

“Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”

This is where Eddie normally makes a joke – says he’d been trying for the funeral home and asks if Steve happens to have a shovel and some time on his hands; says he thought he’d had the number for the Hawkins Gentleman’s Club and asks if Steve is much of a dancer; once, he’d even affected a terrible New York accent and spun some lines about how he’d been trying to call a speakeasy. He can always hear the laughter caught behind Steve’s dry responses to his nonsense, and he always loves it.

But now is not “normally,” and Eddie only just manages to sound like himself as he replies, “Steve. Just the Harrington I was hoping would speak.”

“Eddie,” is all Steve says for a moment; he sounds almost surprised, but not displeased. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Eddie says back. “So, I know punctuality has never been my strong suit, but it’s, uh. It’s been two weeks. Pretty much on the dot. And you said I should come talk to you again, so…”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, no, did you – You can come over. If you want to talk, still,” Steve says – stammers, really, like he’s been caught off-guard, like he really hadn’t been expecting Eddie to call.

“Well, if I didn’t change my mind in two weeks, I’m not gonna change my mind in the fifteen minutes it takes to get to your house,” Eddie says.

“Sure,” Steve says, a little steadier now. “Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

“You definitely will,” Eddie assures him. “See you in a bit, Steve.”

“Yeah. Yes. Bye, Eddie.”

It’s awkward, but – it’s something.

The only reason Eddie doesn’t break an egregious number of traffic laws on his way to Steve’s house is because he simply couldn’t bear the irony of getting arrested now, of all times. With his luck, he’d get sent up the river and Steve would be left waiting and waiting at his house before coming to the conclusion that Eddie had never really cared about him after all, only to be found surprised and jaded several years later when Eddie is finally released from prison and makes his first stop the Harrington house and – Christ, Eddie’s had romance on the brain too long. He’s going to have to binge reread Lord of the Rings or something to get his head back on straight.

He pulls his head out of the clouds and his van into the Harrington’s ridiculously massive driveway and heads up to the door with a vibrating surplus of energy sustained entirely by nerves and determination.

It seems like he’s not the only one running on anxiety power, though, based on how quickly the door opens after Eddie rings the bell.

It’s the first time Eddie’s really seen Steve up close since the trailer two weeks ago. He looks– better. He’s still tired, Eddie can tell; he’s got that slightly droopy look around his eyes and an almost painful set to his jaw that’s nearly impossible to spot if you don’t know what to look for – and most people don’t (but Eddie’s spent a lot of time learning Steve, even if he hadn’t picked up all the right tells). But he still looks better, and Eddie finds himself relieved.

“Hey, there,” he says, giving Steve a nod. “Just happened to be in the neighborhood, y’know. Thought I’d drop by.”

Steve shakes his head, a tiny smile quirking up at one corner of his mouth. “Come in, jackass.”

“Fine way to treat your guests,” Eddie drawls in return, gratified when Steve’s smile grows just a tiny bit more.

He takes off his shoes at the entryway (Steve hardly ever asks anyone to take off their shoes, because worrying about the state of your floors isn’t cool, but it bothers him all the same, and so Eddie takes them off) and follows Steve through to the living room, where they both perch awkwardly on the couch and sit in an equally awkward silence for about thirty seconds.

“So… you said I should come talk to you,” Eddie says finally.

“I did, yeah.” Steve nods.

“You said to tell you if this was still something I wanted,” Eddie goes on.

“I did, yeah,” Steve says again. “And… you’re here.”

“I told you I wouldn’t change my mind, Steve.” Eddie’s hand twitches, almost instinctively reaching out for a spot on Steve’s knee, or around his wrist, or threaded through his fingers, but he doesn’t think he can take Steve freezing up or pulling away again. “This – you, us – I still want it. I want to do it right. If you’ll give me the chance, I want to treat you how you should be treated.”

Steve nods. “Okay.”

Eddie blinks. “Okay? As in – just, yeah, okay?” He knows he’s not making much sense, but he’d been sort of prepared to have to make his case – to extol the virtues of the perfect dates he had planned, to sing the praises of all the things he knows now that he should appreciate about Steve, to lament the loss of trust and ease between them, but instead Steve is just sitting there, watching him with a funny sort of smile on his face.

“I was… I was never going to say no, Eddie.” Steve shrugs. “I just really needed you to think about it. To make sure this—a real relationship with… with me—is really what you wanted. Because if it’s not, if you took it back again, I don’t think I’d– I just really needed you to be sure.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, low and serious, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. A real relationship with you is exactly what I want.”

Steve’s smile twitches, changes into something a little more familiar, a little warmer. “Okay.”

“You’re never gonna regret it, sweetheart,” Eddie says, can’t help bouncing a little in his seat as his nerves turn to excitement, to elation. “I have the corniest, most romantic dates planned, I swear, I’m going to knock your socks off. We’ll unlock your inner Molly Ringwald.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve shakes his head at Eddie. “You really don’t have to do all that. I’m not– putting you through a trial, or whatever, we can just go back to what we were doing, right? Just with… I dunno, more awareness.”

“Noooo, no.” Eddie shakes his head right back. “You said you didn’t want to pretend nothing ever happened, and you shouldn’t have to. I want to do this, Steve. Let me take you on a real date.”

Something unreadable flashes across Steve’s face, and suddenly his smile is wrong again. Sort of plastic – like he’s trying, but it’s not quite reaching his eyes. But before Eddie can ask what’s wrong, Steve is shrugging.

“If you insist…”

“I most certainly do,” Eddie says firmly. “I’m gonna romance the shit out of you.”

At that, Steve releases a helpless snort of laughter, and the plastic smile is gone, blown away by a real one.

“You’re making a super good argument for it,” Steve says, and Eddie grins.

“Aren’t I?” He bats his eyelashes. “So tell me: you free on Friday night?”

“I’m working, actually. Someone has to dole out dumb romances to other people out on dates,” Steve says drily, as if he himself hasn’t seen most of the films he’s maligning.

Eddie hums. “Saturday?”

“I could probably get someone to cover my shift,” Steve hedges, teasing and flirty and everything Eddie’s missed in the last few weeks.

“So you’ll be free?” Eddie asks.

“As a bird – as long as that bird isn’t a robin, considering who’s going to have to cover for me,” Steve says, and Eddie pulls a grimace.

“Yeah, maybe don’t tell her why you need the shift covered. I get the feeling she wouldn’t be as agreeable if she knew I was involved,” he says.

“I don’t think Robin’s ever been agreeable in her life, and she’d probably resent the accusation.” Steve smirks. “But as long as she doesn’t think I’m sneaking away to see you, and if I take the Monday morning shift she really hates, I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Let’s plan for Saturday?”

“Saturday it is!” Eddie pops up off the couch, both unwilling to sour the mood by overstaying his welcome, and suddenly overflowing with the need to set preparations in motion. “Six o’clock, sharp! I’ll pick you up.”

“Do I get to know where we’re going?” Steve asks, one eyebrow cocked.

“Absolutely not. The surprise is part of the experience,” Eddie says.

“Dress code, at least?” Steve wheedles, and Eddie supposes that’s fair.

“Casual. And bring a jacket,” Eddie says.

Both of Steve’s brows go up now, as he rises from the couch to follow Eddie back out towards the door. “Telling someone to bring outerwear to a date is usually a red flag, man,” he says, watching as Eddie shoves his shoes back on.

“But you love being outside,” Eddie counters, glancing up at Steve with a grin.

“I,” Steve pauses, blinking at him. “I guess.”

“And no more hints,” Eddie says, rising from the floor and reaching for the door handle. “I’ll see you on Saturday?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his voice warming around a small, pleased smile, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Can’t wait.” Eddie throws one last grin at him before stepping out into the brisk, late fall air.

He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Part 7

Tag List (Drop me a line if you'd like off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e @pearynice @giverobinagfbrigade @novacorpsrecruit @hotluncheddie @strangersteddierthings @alongcomesaspider @theheadlessphilosopher @jettestar @rajumat @garden-of-gay @jamieweasley13 @dam28lh @oldwitcheshat @lololol-1234 @perfectlysensiblenonsense @salty-h0e @r0binscript @mavernanche @back2beesness @a-lovely-craziness @paintsplatteredandimperfect @redbullgivescaswings @emmabubbles @heartstarstar-blog @thesuninyaface @thatonebisexualman @fruitandbubbles @erinharvelle @m-owo-n @theystoodandplayedwithsilence @surroundedbyconfusion @luthienstormblessed @3ldr1tchang3l @pansexuality-activated

The tag list is full at this time, but I'll be posting this fic to Ao3 soon, so hopefully people can subscribe there if they want update alerts?

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #things are going to start picking up soon 👀#solar wrote

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meangirls-imagines · 2 months

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Frat Parties Suck

Description: It's basically that episode of SLOCG where Leighton and Alicia kiss for the first time but reader replaces Alicia.

WARNINGS: leighton being a gay mess, reader getting beat up, love confessions, fluff

leighton was extremely nervous.

not for her brother or his fraternity. no, she didn't really care about them. she was nervous because the girl she had been pining over for the last two weeks was going to said frat to "inspect" it.

she met y/n after she got assigned community service for underage drinking and vandalism (that she thinks if she doesn't remember it happening, it didn't happen). the president of the school didn't take too kindly to that and sent leighton to the campus women's center.

her and y/n butt heads the second they met. leighton thought she was too good for the women's center and tried to bribe y/n but the girl wasn't having it. by the end of their first conversation, leighton was storming out of the building pissed off and turned on. y/n was hot as shit.

the weeks went by and somehow some way, the blonde managed to kinda weasel her way into y/n's life. she had been making y/n smile more than yell so she thought she was getting somewhere.

and then the frat party came up.

while going through clothes they were going to donate, towa brought up the plan of the group going to a drag brunch, leighton politely declined, stating that theta was throwing a huge party. the group went silent and leighton looked confused. she smiled at them. "why is everyone so quiet? did i say something triggering again?"

y/n spoke up. "i get that your brother is in theta, but frats can be extremely sexist, toxic nightmares. we have been campaigning to get rid of greek life for over a year." leighton sighed. i know frats get a bad rep but theta actually does good. they just finished a construction project in mexico." y/n scoffed. "yeah, for the bar that they burned down."

leighton sighed again. "okay, maybe they aren't perfect but have any of you actually been to a frat party?" silence. the blonde grinned. "so we're making a judgmental assumption?" leighton smiled at y/n who smiled back. "you're right. i mean we shouldn't be judging theta until we go to one of their parties." leighton nodded, satisfied with how the conversation went.

"so maybe we should all go tonight."

leighton shot it down instantly. "no! you guys have your super fun....plans." y/n shook her head. "no, we are going to give theta a chance to prove us wrong. send me the invite." y/n crossed her arms and leighton shamelessly stared at the girl's biceps.

i wonder how they would feel around my ne-

"leighton, you still with us?"

the blonde nodded. "yup. invite. i will send it."

leighton stood next to her brother, impressed with how fast theta changed gears for the party. "we got rid of any and all triggers." the blonde smiled at nico. "yeah, it looks good. i don't think there's anything that the women's center will hate." speak of the devil(s), ginger, towa and the rest of the women's center crew walked in, sans y/n. nico offered to show the girls around as leighton let out a breath, sighing deeply.

then, like something out of a movie, y/n walked in, sighing. leighton felt like she was going to pass out at how hot the girl looked. she wasn't dressed too fancy, a hoodie and some jeans, but leighton felt like she couldn't breathe. y/n smiled at the girl, walking towards her. "so, tonight is going to be a shit show isn't it?"

leighton laughed. "oh yeah. um, do you want a drink?" y/n laughed. "oh, i already pregamed in the driveway but yeah, let's keep drinking shall we?" leighton giggled and led the way to the drinks.

tonight was going to be a long night.

nico was in the middle of explaining how parties worked at theta before y/n cut him off. "you can calm down nico, i know you think that i'm some big, scary lesbian protester or something." nico laughed a little. "i did not know you were a lesbian. it would be rude of me to assume that." leighton rolled her eyes. "nico. less. please." nico straightened up as y/n laughed. "dude, i'm just here to have a good time. now, will you please hold my feet for a keg stand?"

nico looked shocked and then smirked. "only if you hold mine afterwards." both girls looked at him blankly before he whispered. "equality." leighton shook her head before spotting cory. "oh look, it's cory, i'm going to go and talk to him." she left without another word as y/n and nico went to the keg.

after dominating all the games with nico, y/n found leighton outside nursing a drink. "hey." leighton looked up and smiled at y/n. "hey. heard you and nico kicked ass. congrats." y/n chuckled. "all in a day's work." y/n glanced behind her and saw a trash can overflowing with sombreros. "uh, why are there so many sombreros in that trash can?" leighton winced. "i think that they ditched some of the more problematic elements of the party when they heard we were coming and by problematic i mean deeply, deeply racist."

y/n laughed as leighton saw kimberly frantically waving at her from behind y/n. "um, i will be right back, it looks like my roommate needs me for something." y/n nodded. "i get it, i'll be here." leighton smiled shyly and headed toward kimberly.

leighton wasn't gone for five minutes before nico came running towards her and her roommates. "nico? are you good?" nico was panting. "you gotta come with me. it's y/n. some dude called her a dyke and she said something back and then he just started beating the shit out of her."

leighton's heart dropped to her stomach. she took off running in the direction nico came and found the group of people that had gathered. she pushed through the crowd and gasped at the sight of y/n. her face was covered in blood thanks to the gash above her eyebrow. it also didn't help that her nose was bleeding. leighton could already imagine the shiner y/n was going to have tomorrow.

she rushed to the beaten girl's side, gently cupping her face. "y/n? can you hear me?" the girl softly groaned, covering leighton's hand with her own. leighton sighed in relief. nico kneeled on the other side of the girl, ordering his frat brothers to get rid of the guy. "leighton we have to take her to the hospital." that's when y/n spoke. "no..no hospital." it was slurred but leighton was able to make out what the girl said.

leighton sighed. the best thing would be to take y/n to the hospital but she also didn't want to go against the girl's wishes. she stood, making a decision. "no. we're taking her to my dorm."

an hour later, thanks to nico, leighton and y/n made their way back to the blonde's dorm. the girls had gone out to get some stuff to help maintain y/n's injuries since the first aid kit kimberly had wasn't going to be enough. leighton was grateful that her and y/n had some alone time. thanking nico for helping her, she grabbed a washcloth she had in her room and a water bottle, using it to wet the towel.

she gently began wiping the drying blood off the girl's face, being careful of the cuts that littered her skin. y/n groaned a little before leighton gently shushed her. "shhh, you're okay y/n. you're safe." y/n groaned again, grabbing leighton's hand that was cleaning her face. "mmm..leighton. my face hurts."

the blonde's heart broke and she took a risk. she gently kissed y/n's forehead, letting her lips linger. "i know, the girls are getting you some stuff to take care of that okay? they'll be here soon." y/n moaned in pain as leighton began to gently wipe her face again.

the girls soon returned and allowed leighton to finish cleaning y/n up. they all checked in on the girl before bela went to hang out in kimberly and whitney's room. leighton sat next to a cleaned up y/n, running her fingers through the girl's hair. y/n smiled at the contact. she pulled the blonde to lay next to her. "you know, i hear cuddles from a pretty girl are the best medicine." leighton giggled before making herself comfortable on y/n's chest.

the two laid in silence before leighton spoke up. "i was so scared. seeing you like that. i didn't think you were going to get up and there was so much blood and-" y/n shushed her, pulling the blonde closer to her. "i'm okay leight. i'm here aren't i? i have the hottest nurse taking care of me too." leighton laughed before sitting up and looking at y/n.

y/n noticed leighton's eyes shining in a way she hadn't seen before. it was like y/n hung the moon and the stars. she couldn't stop herself from gently cupping leighton's cheek, rubbing the girl's cheekbone with her thumb. leighton couldn't take it anymore. she leaned down and slowly placed her lips on y/n's.

fireworks went off in y/n's head as she kissed the girl back. all this time, she thought leighton was straight. just a common, cis blonde woman. boy was she wrong. the two kissed for a little longer then leighton pulled away. y/n looked shocked. "woah. i was really wrong about you." leighton chuckled before leaning in again.

"shut up."

#leighton murray x reader #leighton murray imagine #leighton murray

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nuka · 2 months

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Call me delulu, but I woke up with hope in my heart today.

It's only been 2 months since the show was cancelled. WBD is run by an incompetent fool. WBD previously said they'd sell Coyote vs. Acme, but then made it impossible for anyone to buy it. All streaming services are struggling financially at the moment.

Daddy Jenkins had to tell us we've reached the end of the road, because that's the reality right now. Either WBD made it impossible for anyone to buy the show, or the actual realistic price was just too high for other streamers at the moment even if they wanted to buy it. “Many complimentary meetings, conversations, etc” sounds like someone was interested.

DJ and everyone else who worked on the show need to be able to move on, so they can make a living from other projects. They’ve all been holding their breath just in case they can start filming after all. The fans need to move on in the sense that we can't expect a renewal "any day now", like we did for 2 months. We can still hope that we'll see season 3 one day, but now we can be realistic about the chances of it happening in the immediate future.

Everyone who worked on this show has loved it so dearly that I'm certain that if season 3 gets greenlit in the future, they'll all want to work on it again. As long as DJ is in, the others are too. The Revenge can be rebuilt. The time that has passed can be explained in the story, if it needs explaining at all. If some actors won't be able to return, we'll get new characters added to our family, and we'll embrace them just like we embraced all the new characters in season 2.

Depending on what the problem for the pick up was, things might change very quickly, or they might take a few years. Who knows, if we continue being loud, a streaming service that quickly passed on the show in January might take interest in it later. A streaming service that offered too little might make a better offer, and WBD might accept just to get rid of us (because we're back to calling Max out on this bullshit and it's not a good look for them). Or, once the industry recovers a bit, a streaming service might be willing to reconsider spending a big amount of money on this show. And if WBD set an impossible price for the show this time, they might shop it around for a more reasonable price once Zaslav is out (or even greenlight season 3 themselves, but that’s delulu level 200). Even if we don't get a season 3, we might still get a movie, or a comic book, or a script book, or a blu-ray release, or the Jenkins Cut. And honestly, if someone was to announce they've picked up the show in a year or two... that's not a long time at all.

Pirate Daddy said that our campaign was noticed across the industry. They hear and see our love for this show. They know we're here for the show if it's ever to return. They know this show has potential.

So let’s keep having fun in the fandom. Keep being loud about Our Flag Means Death. Keep using the hashtags. Keep making fanart. Keep shouting about how unfair this cancellation was. We don’t have to do it with the same intensity as during the campaign (I know we’re all tired and it’s completely okay to step away if you need/want to), but as long as we as a fandom are consistent, they’ll see there’s a demand that just won’t go away.

There is always hope. It’s not the same kind of hope we had before January 9th, and it’s not the kind we had until March 7th. But there are so many variables, and so little time has passed. Who knows what the industry will look like in a year or two. I’d rather believe in a future that might just hold a pleasant surprise for us than throw in the towel completely.

#ofmd #our flag means death #long live ofmd #save ofmd #adopt our crew #our flag bbc #renew as a crew

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leletha-jann · 2 months

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Headcanon on reasonable evidence, actually: Every Heterodyne gets their own specific pack of Jägermonster guards.

Yes, the Jägermonsters are all sworn to the family in general, but Heterodynes do unreasonable and dangerous things on absolutely no notice, and it's helpful to have a specific set of personal guards who know them as individuals well enough to respond immediately. (Of course, Jägers think this sounds like fun.)

Agatha having Dimo, Maxim, and Oggie on more or less permanent assignment to her isn't unusual; it's normal. They know this, and have encouraged her to fall into a pattern they were expecting, actually, and she didn't take any steering at all. On some instinctive level she was expecting it too. Even if Dimo keeps his promotion to General, he'll be a General on the move, from wherever Agatha happens to be. They'll be with her for the rest of her life.

Consorts get their own squads, too. At some point in the future, Gil and Tarvek both acquire a handful of their own personal Jägers, sottle-like. (They notice it happen anyway.)

Jorgi is absolutely one of Tarvek's squad, because there's no way he wasn't designed to be Tarvek's personal guard Jäger, and it will be hilarious.

I'd also love to see Agatha assign Jenka to him, because Tarvek's recently on record as missing his personal spy network, and he and Jenka would have that up and running in no time flat. They'd have fun. (Jenka doesn't hold "being Andronicus Valois' descendent" against him, because Tarvek's loyalties are firmly with Agatha, and they share a "to hell with that family in particular" attitude.) Also, it would be a neat little parallel with Tarvek giving Violetta to Agatha. Agatha could give him a sneaky lady who can kick his ass (and will if when needed) right back. For maximum humor, Füst should take to Tarvek exactly the same way the wasp eaters did.

(this, but with JAGER BEAR)

I don't know if Gil ends up with Vole as one of his pack, because I don't know where the Foglios are going with him. But I nominate this guy from book one:

And this guy from book 14:

to follow Gil around and be reassuring to him periodically.

Higgs has sort of ended up as immediate supervision of the entire triumvirate. Whichever of them is in reach, or all three of them at once. Insert Higgs looking really deadpan tired here. This face. Forever.

Jägers get EXTREMELY excited when they learn a new baby Heterodyne is on the way, and start campaigning to be on the baby's personal guard squad immediately. Of course, being Jägers, there's a lot of biting involved. I imagine months of Jägers challenging each other, not just to fights, because they did all that already, but to increasingly ridiculous and pointless challenges that they're both making up on the spot and obsessively keeping track of. The only real rule is that if you challenge someone to something, you have to do it too (otherwise how will you know who won?) They challenge each other one on one, or everyone in sight. This leads to things like most of the Jägerhorde running a screaming, pushing, biting, brawling egg-and-spoon race down the longest street in Mechanicsburg. The townsfolk line up to watch and cheer. (They're considered a course hazard, so they get to throw things.) Whoever's currently winning (don't ask me how that points math works) when the baby is born gets assigned to the baby.

Bill and Barry both had their own Jäger squads and never knew it, because their guards weren't allowed anywhere near them. Theodora was pretty much out there with a shotgun if she heard even the hint of a Jägermonster accent. Those Jägers still resent it. They feel robbed of their (most recent) chance to be trusted favorites. They might get special-pleading rights in the next tournament-to-guard-the-new-baby, assuming their brothers aren't completely fed up with their whining about it by now.

Klaus Barry had his own guards, but Bill didn't know because the Jägers were barely even allowed in the Castle by that point, so they just didn't tell him. Master of Mechanicsburg or not, the Jägers didn't trust him not to send them away even further (and rightly so).

Nobody volunteered to guard Lucrezia. Bill didn't understand the insult in that, and the townspeople didn't tell him. But every single one of them NOTICED. Ho yez.

There are only so many Jägermonsters, so by this point everyone who's still alive has been in a personal guard squad at least once. Collectively, the Jägermonsters know all the gossip, going back centuries. They'll never tell. If pressed, they suddenly lose the ability to remember last week, much less 1528. They can't be bribed, not even with alcohol, although they encourage people to try.

Canon: Jenka was in Euphrosnia's personal guard.

Seen elsewhere on Tumblr but I forgot to reblog it: Vole was one of Saturnus' pack, which is why he tried to kill Bill and Barry. Saturnus had tried, after all, and Vole was most loyal to Saturnus in particular. (If this was your theory, let me know! Credit to you.)

TL;DR: Jägers running an egg-and-spoon race through Mechanicsburg. There. Now you have the highlight of this post.

Also: ä is alt-132 (using the keypad). NOW YOU KNOW. (hopefully I also now know, because this is like the fifth time I've tried to memorize that)

#girl genius #worldbuilding #headcanon #jagermonsters #long post #but with pictures #heterodynes

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meanbossart · 3 months

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Alright, I am like 90% sure there is ONE line in A Novel Experience touching on Gale GTFOing rapidly, so I don't think there are answers in there for me. So I come to you and ask-WTF went on between Gale and Drow???

Alright, so

There are two versions to what happened to Gale in my first campaign (the OG DU drow campaign that this whole universe is based around), lets begin with the technical version. As I've only somewhat recently come to understand, my Gale was bugged. I had 1 interaction early in the game that slightly veered into romance which didn't go anywhere, and first chance I had I clarified that I was not interested in him that way (the whole reason why It happened in the first place was because i misunderstood his dialogue). Despite this, and despite me turning him down in every romantic interaction following, I kept getting them and my interactions with him were as if we were romantically involved. I even got one exchange (the one about muscles glistening and cheeks flushed) twice, and rejected him both times.

So, later in the game once DU drow and Astarion sucessfully 5d chess-ed their way into falling In love, I was surprised to still be informed i had to "break things off" with Gale if I wanted to get with him. Which I did. And he gave me a whole spiel about it.

Now it's crucial you understand this was early in the game's release, I went into it completely blind and I had never played a game like Baldur's Gate before, so I was not familiar with the mechanics at all, which... Kind of led me to believe Gale was just like that normally.

From that point on I was highly amused, but for roleplaying purposes I decided my drow would have been highly annoyed and a little creeped out. And so I proceeded to be extremely rude to the guy at every chance I got. This eventually resulted In him pursuing the crown of Karsus despite me (rudely) telling him that was a very dumb idea.

The second version of what happened, as I already touched on above a little bit, Is the Narrative one. As I mentioned I had no clue what was and wasn't supposed to happen, so I just... Went along with it within the role-play.

So our beloved DU drow gets worms. He goes on a grand adventure with this weird possy of people to find a cure. When the tiefling party comes everybody except Astarion wants to get into his pants (because I left him on the beach for like a week and then proceeded to be The Rudest to him, sorry babe, I didn't see your pale ass and the asshole dialogue options were Really funny).

Someone else who Didn't seem to wanna fuck him was the wizard. He said he just wanted to show him a magic trick and he (and, I'll admit, me) really thought that was just that. The scene unfolds, Gale tries to teach DU Drow to cast a spell but his 9 intelligence says No. The unsolicited date ends abruptly because Gale is upset that a champion fighter without a single cantrip makes for a shitty wizard. DU Drow thinks thats the end of that - It's Not.

Then what proceeds to happen is a long, annoying, somewhat unsettling dynamic where Gale continually tries to pursue him throughout the game, coming to the point where the guy I'm Actually interested in thinks we are together - and when DU drow tells him verbatim that he had no idea they were even a thing in Gale's mind, he has to hear him whine about it. Add to that the fact that all Gale talks about is his ex-girlfriend, DU drow is (kind of justifiably) led to believe he must be a Profound weirdo to whom he cannot ever say even a Neutral word to again lest he becomes any more infatuated with him - 0r whatever the hell is going on.

Whether it be DU drow's own inflated ego or the actual truth, when Gale begins to pursue the crown he also assumes he's just doing it to spite him - so he isn't the kindest to him about that either.

And within this narrative that I concocted around a simple bug that didn't let me end a romance, I cannot imagine Anyone getting on particularly well with Gale within my main party. Drow thinks he's madly in love with him, Shadowheart is probably a little confused but she trusts DU Drow's word on the matter more than the Wizard's, Astarion thinks... What Astarion thinks.

So, no, they didn't part on the best of terms.

Before anyone gets mad, I assure you - I've completed the game again since then, I realize this is Not the intended Gale experience. He's a hysterical and deeply interesting character and only Slightly clingy and weird.

But, you gotta admit, this is way funnier.

#ask #DU drow #i'm sorry for always weaving such a tale out of these kinds of questions #i like to have fun #bg3 spoilers

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eddiesguitarskills · 11 days

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It can’t all be bullshit Part 2

Read part 1 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no Steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this is all I've written for the story, so I won't be as fast updating. Also, I'm sorry I write a lot for female-presenting readers it's just I find it easier to write it like that, especially with my dyslexia. However, if you guys want I can start reuploading the story with non-gender descriptions just might take it longer to edit it.

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, sexual themes but no smut readers discretion is advised. Drug and alcohol use, and swearing.

word count 3.7kish

Monday morning came around quickly, which you were glad about. The sooner you could get away from that awful weekend, the better. Eddie hadn’t remembered anything from that night, or if he did, he didn't mention it. You were also glad that you didn’t want another argument, and you definitely didn’t want details on his love life. Not that you hadn’t thought about it, your brain was too cruel to not make you dwell on it, you also thought about Harrington was he okay? Not that you cared about him of course just one human looking out for another. If you happen to be looking around to see if he made it to school that would be out of curiosity not because you cared. Thankfully his locker was near to yours so you would eventually see how he was, to be honest with how the gossip spreads in this school you would hear about it eventually if the king and queen of Hawkins really had broken up.

I don't hear anything about it until a week later at lunch. You were a little late as you had been stuck talking to your English teacher, Miss Plant, and you felt too rude to leave despite the rumbling in your stomach. As soon as you got to the table, a conversation began. “Do you reckon his head hurt?” Eddie joked. “Whose head?” you said while sitting in your seat beside Eddie. “The king when he fell from his throne”. You were beyond confused. Were they talking about a new campaign? You couldn't remember a king in your current D&D campaign. Maybe you had been too busy dazing at your leader at the meetings to notice if there was a new character. You didn't want to feel stupid, so you nodded like you understood. It wasn't until the conversation continued and you heard the mention of Nancy Wheeler you understood. You knew Eddie and Steve didn't like each other, but some of his words seemed too harsh. You saw what Harringtons' wrath could be like, and you didn't want Eddie on the receiving end. You picked at your peas, not daring to look up, and you knew how they would all tease you about nagging again. “Maybe we shouldn't talk about this”. Eddie raised his eyebrow, stopping his rant. “Why are you scared?” he challenged. You shrugged back.

Everyone was surprised. You hadn't nagged, you hadn't come back at him, you had stayed remarkably calm. Eddie wanted to see how long it would take you to snap, but he didn't have a chance when Chris, taking the hint, changed the subject. “So when’s the date, Eddie?” Not realising this would be the thing to make you snap. Since when did he have a date? Indeed it wasn't with what's her face from the party? You thought he didn't remember anything from that party, and if he did, why hadn't he apologised to you yet? “Well, she wanted to come over on Thursday, but I don't know” he looked at you to gauge a reaction; that was your weekly bowling night. Don't shout. It's okay. It's only the night you look forward to most, and you don't have much to look forward to. It doesn't matter. Well, maybe it does, but not to him anymore. “Have fun” you say standing to leave the table, dumping the food on your tray. Any hunger you had felt had gone and was replaced with nausea.

You needed somewhere to hide because you weren’t going to the next period. You needed someone to cry or scream or both. So you disappeared to Eddie’s spot in the woods. You hold onto yourself for warmth, looking down, trying to be careful not to trip on the twigs hidden in the mud. You finally make it to the table without an accident when you see out of the corner of your eye a guy. You pray it's not Eddie or someone here for a deal. It was the last thing you needed. You weren't sure if you would keep your cool this time round, especially with the stupid tears that kept lining your eyes.

“I didn't think anyone else would be here”, he spoke. It wasn't Eddie, but it was someone you also didn't want to bump into. You hoped after that night you would never have to come face to face with Harrington again. “Sorry, I can go,”you say, hoping to make a swift exit. “No, it's fine, I don't own the woods”.

There is an awkward silence. You debated getting up to leave, but you were stuck there frozen. “Looks like I’m not the only one having a shit day.” You don’t dare look up. Yeah, you were having a bad day, but it didn’t feel right to compare it to a breakup. “Mine nothing compare to yours”. You look up quickly. You didn’t mean it to sound that way. “No, I meant I’m fine. I’m sorry about what happened”. God, did you sound as dumb as you thought? “So I guess everyone knows now”. You shake your head “just because I know doesn’t mean everyone knows”.

He weakly chuckles, but there is no humour behind it: “It kind of does. It’s made its way down to the bottom of the food chain”. Steve’s eyes widened. Shit, he didn’t mean to sound like that. “No offence”. He couldn’t help being how he was. Having to put up an act for so long makes it hard to realise when he was being a dick. “None taken”. You shrug. You were used to the name-calling by jocks, so his words felt like nothing. “So what happened to you?” You twiddle with the ring Eddie gave you on a chain. “Don’t worry about me”. Steve smiles. “It’d be nice to worry about something else for a change. So is it a guy?” You laugh at him. “Do you think all girl's problems revolve around a guy?”. He nods.” Well, that is very guy-like of you, but yeah, you’re right. This time, it’s a guy.” Steve’s face lights up with a smirk. “I knew it! So what happened.” You go to speak but look up, realising it is not a friend you are talking to. It’s a popular kid. Even worse than that, it’s the king of Hawkins high. “Just typical guy stuff.”

Steve took the hint you didn’t want to get into it, so they changed the subject. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but Can you not tell anyone I was here? If Principal Coleman finds out I cut, I’m dead” You almost wanted to laugh; the Principal would find out, but looking at his face, you knew he was deadly serious. “who would I tell?” He shook his shoulders. “I don’t know”. You smiled. “Exactly. I’m gonna have to start charging you for all the secrets I keep”. He looked utterly lost. “Huh?”

Eddie sauntered over, his metal lunch box in hand. He could only see Harrington and the back of a girl’s head. So he didn’t know who it was. “My spots are popular today. I’ve even got King Steve, and I assume his new plaything here.” You turn around to face him. Now was not the time for his antics. “Leave it, Eddie” you sneered. The boy’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Absolutely not” he grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the woods away from Steve.

After many tries, you finally got out of Eddie’s grasp. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”. The boy rolled his eyes, “saving you”. You repeated his facial expression, “I didn’t need saving”. He tutted and slung his arm around you. “You were about to be Harrington’s next prey; trust me, you needed saving.” You pushed him off. “We were just talking”. Eddie looked at you like he was telling off a child, not a friend and definitely not someone he fancied “That’s how it starts”. You hated that he treated you like you didn’t know how the world worked. “I don’t see why you care”. He shook his head. “I’m your best friend, of course I care”. There it was, the famous last words of any crush. You were officially friend-zoned, and you would never get out of that. You felt deflated, so you just nodded and followed him to his van and then trailer.

A month later you were going to another party this time it was your idea. Getting over this crush had been more challenging than you had planned, so you decided to do something the opposite of what you usually would. Tonight, you would act like all the other teenagers and drink till you forget. Or find someone to help you forget. When you told Eddie you were going, he insisted he took you despite your protests. How are you supposed to get over someone when he doesn't leave you alone? You had bought an outfit for tonight because your usual outfit of jeans and a tee didn’t feel fitting. So you bought a red tight spaghetti strap dress, you thought about wearing heels you put them on, but as soon as you wobbly stood up like Bambi on ice, you realised it wasn't the best idea, so you put on your black trusty Converse. It's nice to have familiarity and not feel like Bambi on ice when trying to catch someone up. You hear several impatient beeps outside; you would think you had made him wait for hours when he had only just arrived 30 minutes late, of course. Life is always on Eddie’s schedule. You just wanted to get to the party and out of his sight, so you grabbed your bag put on a layer of lipgloss and ran outside to Eddie’s van.

He had the window down. He looked at your outfit and shook his head. “You’re gonna freeze”. You were sick of his new habit of babying you; was this what you sounded like to him? Was this just him mocking you? The girl from the last party poked her head out. “I think you look hot. I’m Sasha (sorry if this is your name she is nice though) by the way”. You nod. “Y/n”, he brought her, of course he brought her. She was nice. Why did she have to be nice? It's easier to dislike someone when they are a bitch, not a beautiful soul like hers. You were even more jealous now you wish you could be more like her than you. You got into the back of the van as Eddie drove (over the speed limit) to the party. Sasha was super friendly along the way and kept asking you questions to get to know Eddie’s best friend more. The boy stayed quiet, in thought. He was struggling to keep his eyes on the road as he kept looking at you through the rearview mirror in disbelief.

When you finally got to the party, you found your way to the punch bowl, the pair not leaving your side. You picked up a red cup, filling it with the content of the bowl, whenever that may be. Before you could even put it to your lips. Eddie took the cup from your hands, pouring it back into the bowl, Tutting at you. “Are you okay tonight? You’re acting weird”. God, you were sick of his stupid face and stupid comments, but then it struck you this was your way out from the couple, from him. “You know I’m feeling a little weird. I’m gonna go to the toilet… it’s probably because of my period”. It was a lie, but you knew it would stop him from following you.

You went up the stairs and poked your head into a room, hoping it would be the bathroom. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t; Steve Harrington sat on a bed, his leg tapping anxiously and anxiously. why did you two seem to have a universal magnet. “Sorry”. He looked up at you. You went to leave but were stopped by his voice calling, “Wait, you’re the girl who ditched me”.

“The girl?” You repeated him. “I have a name. It’s y/n, and I wouldn’t exactly call it ditched.” He laughed, getting up and shutting the door behind you. “What would you call it? I know it’s not your fault, though, was your boyfriend jealous?”. You glare at the thought, “he’s not my boyfriend”. He laughs. “Does he know that?” You turn to leave. “I’m not in the mood for whatever this is”. He holds your hand not too tightly, so if you want to go, you can, bringing you to the bed to sit down. You are stocked by yourself that you don't push him away, but the gentleness of this action makes your heart flutter. Maybe Steve Harrington could help you forget. “So he’s the one that made you cry”. Maybe not. You put your hands on your face, embarrassed “Is it that obvious?”. He pulls your hands away from your face, shaking his head. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t see how beautiful you are”. You want to smile at his words, but they make you cringe. “Is this how you get all the girls?” He sighs. God, he had just been broken up with; maybe it was too soon to mention girls. “I’m sor-“ he puts a finger to your lip. “You apologise far too much”. You nod. “I just don’t want you to bite my head off again”, you mumble, fiddling with the end of your dress.

“When did I do that?” He had no clue what you were talking about, so why did you even mention it? “It doesn’t matter” you keep your eyes down. He uses his hand to lift your chin so you’re looking at him. “When did I do that?” He says as genuinely as he can. He was trying to be better, a more likeable guy, and if he wanted to do that, he needed to right his wrongs. “It wasn’t your fault; it probably just seems worse in my head because I wasn’t enjoying myself…and Eddie was being a dick and-“ he puts his hand on yours to calm you. “It was Halloween; I think you and Nancy had just had an argument. I guess you needed someone to take your rage out on, and I just happened to be there”. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. Annoyed at himself, he couldn’t look at you. “It’s fine; I swear it wasn’t that bad. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here. You just told me to fuck off and said bullshit a lot”. He looks over at you. “So you know what happened with Nancy?” you nodded “I got the gist”. He nudged your shoulder with his “thanks for not telling anything”. You laugh. “As you said in the wood, I’m the bottom of the food chain. I've got no one to tell.”

He wanted to beat himself up; he had fallen so far into the idea of popularity that he became what he swore he would never be a dick. “You aren’t, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that.” You squeeze his hand. “Don’t go soft on me. I'm quite content being there . It means I can fade into the background”. He holds both of your hands and looks you up and down until his eyes land on yours. “Someone like you isn’t meant to fade into the background”. You don’t know what comes over you; maybe it’s how nice he’s being, that you had never been called pretty by a boy, or how handsome he looked, but you lean in and kiss him. Maybe it’s because you recognise the broken mess hidden behind his eyes. You instantly realise what you’ve done. You couldn’t blame alcohol for this. You had still never drank. You’re about to pull away when Steve brings his hands to your hips and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. “Where” kiss. “Do you” another peck “think” another “you’re going?” You giggle into his mouth and further the kiss. Your hips were rolling against his, which was out of your control, not that you or Steve minded. You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t taste the beer on his lips until he put his tongue in your mouth. You tried to ignore it, but after a few moments, that’s all-consuming your brain: the metallic taste of it.

Steve could tell you wasn’t really into it anymore, so he pulled away. He started to feel insecure. He hadn’t kissed a girl since Nancy had. Had he already lost his touch? “are you okay? Didn’t you like-“ you shake your head animatedly. The action makes your whole body shake against him, making him moan. God, he was super embarrassed now. He moved you off him before anything got more awkward, especially if you were to feel the semi he was sporting. Jesus, why were you so in your head about everything you had a way to forget, and you ruined it? “I really liked it” he refused to look at you, too self-conscious about the situation. He kept his eyes on the ceiling fan above him. “It’s fine, y/n”- you feel awkward, too, so you keep your eyes on the door in front of you. “I just get so in my head sometimes, and I don’t drink, so I tasted alcohol and- I don’t know” You got frustrated at yourself not being able to find words. You sounded like a complete idiot. No wonder Eddie didn’t want you.

Steve looked at you and started laughing, even though he thought you were stupid. “Wait, so the Alcohol is cock blocking me?” He wasn’t laughing at you. You felt a relief wash over you. He was laughing at the situation. His laugh was so contagious and charming you don’t think you’ve ever heard it. Before you know it, you can’t help but laugh too. “What did you think you were a bad kisser or something?”. He hit your shoulder playfully. “Of course not” He joked.

There were suddenly loud moans from the room next door. You both look in that direction and laugh again. You do a silly impression of the moan. Steve stops laughing and stares at you, surprised at how good you are at making that sound. She must have had a lot of practice faking it to be that good, he thought. The moaning next door suddenly got louder. You raised your eyebrow at him “wanna play a game?”. You don't know what had come over you, but something about him relaxed you. You didn't feel the anxiety you would feel around your friends, making sure they were safe. You just wanted to have fun. You hadn’t been like that in so long.

Free to just be yourself. He raised his eyebrows back. “I'm listening”. You moan again, louder this time. He didn't expect that. He wanted to laugh because it came from nowhere, but it turned him on. “Come on then”. (totally inspired by Easy A here) You whisper. He got the hint and moaned, too, not as loudly, though. You kept doing this back and forth, both getting more exaggerated and louder. It was hard not to laugh at how ridiculous you sounded. Next door suddenly got very quiet. “I think we won”, he nudged your arm. You burst out laughing. He had never noticed you before, but he was glad he had you tonight. He needed a laugh. He doesn't remember the last time he had actually had fun with worrying about the consequences.

There was a bang on the door. “Are you in there, y/n!?” you suddenly stop laughing and roll your eyes upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Looks like your boyfriend’s jealous again”, Steve joked without thinking. But he then started to panic that maybe you weren’t friends yet. Was it his place to jok- you smack his arm. “Shut it, bullshit boy” you tease back. He would have hated hearing that from anyone else. But from you, he didn't mind. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it's because there was no malice in your voice. Perhaps it's because you had made his awful night better. His week is better. There is another bang on the door “y/n!” you glare at the door. Of course, he had to ruin your fun.

Wasn't it bad enough that he was breaking your heart? “I should go before he bursts a vein or something”. You get up to leave despite the voice in your head telling you to stay. “Thank you for tonight. I really need it”. You kiss his cheek. He smiles, feeling his cheek getting warmer and his heart beating faster. No, he wasn’t ready; he couldn't let this happen like this. “ I'm trying to be better, so I don’t want to lead you on. I don’t want a girlfriend”. You shake your head, going to leave the room, and scoff, “In your dreams, bullshit boy”. He shouts after you, hoping you can hear, “I'm not sure about this new nickname”.

Outside the door, Eddie has his hands on his hips like a parent. “Were you just in there with Harrington?” he says the name like it’s venom. “Yeah, so” just because he was your best friend, he had no right to tell you who to hang out with. You used to think his protective side was endearing, but now it was annoying. You couldn’t say anything about who he hung out with, so he can’t say anything about who you choose to spend time with. Well, that’s what you thought, but Eddie had other ideas, “are you trying to kill me?” He asks like it’s a serious thing that could happen. “Oh yeah, top of my to-do list” There you were, the person Eddie loved, the one with a comeback for everything, but now wasn’t the time for him to bask in your teasing contest that he lived for. No, when there was only a door between you and Harrington, that was too close for comfort for Eddie. He wasn't sure what the new relationship between you and the ‘king’ was, but he didn't like it one bit.

Taglist : @yourdailymemedelivery @kitkat80 @mewchiili @xprloki

@daisy-munson @exploding-bonbon

(if you wanna be added to the tag list let me know)

Masterlist link here if you are interested.

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things angst #steddie x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

Note

PLEASE ELABORATE ON THE BRACELET WITH EDDIES NUMBER ON IT

Was there a time Steve sleepwalked and someone did call Eddie? Was there another time it came in handy when Steve lost Eddie (or Eddie lost Steve) or something other?? Please I need more that is so cute

Just a warning, I made this sad for no reason.

Once when Steve went on tour with Eddie, he wandered off in a post-ictal fog and ended up lost in the city. It took them a few hours to find each other because Steve didn’t know where he was nor did he have any money on him. After that, he would write the phone number of Eddie’s manager on his arm since he was the only guy on tour with a cell phone.

Pat, Eddie’s manager, wasn’t thrilled with this arrangement because he didn’t particularly like Steve, but after Steve channeled the coldest version of his mother and reminded Pat that only one of them was replaceable – “And managers are a dime of dozen” – he begrudgingly agreed.

He was never called.

Steve actually got the idea for the bracelet from one of his second graders.

After a pretty bad allergic reaction, one of his students came back to school with a little silver bracelet on her wrist. It had her mother’s phone number on it and the words ‘Peanut Allergy.’ She smiled up at Steve when she showed him and said, “My mama says this will keep me safe!”

He smiles too, “I bet it will.”

The bracelet is a surprise that Steve never gets to tell Eddie about. The day it comes in the mail, Eddie is over at Gareth’s for a D&D campaign so Steve never even gets the chance to tell him. He goes to bed before Eddie gets home and wakes up in the Emergency Room.

He’s cold and his feet hurt, and there are cuts on his hands and medical tape on his face, and for a second, he thinks he’s in the backseat of a blue Camaro with the world’s most reckless driver. He tries to sit up and it sets up an alarm and then there’s a hand in his, squeezing it.

It takes Steve a second to recognize the rings, to follow the rings up an arm, up to big eyes and messy curls, and Steve breaths out the only thing he can think, “Wow.”

“Wowza, big boy,” Eddie grins back at him, and Steve loves him. “How are you feeling?”

“Did something happen?”

“Yeah, uh. Sleepwalking again,” Eddie hums and then he smiles again. He taps a ring on his free hand against the metal bracelet on Steve’s wrist, “This is fucking brilliant, by the way. Did you think of it?”

Steve’s jaw kinda hurts like he’s been clenching it, but he smiles anyways, “Yeah.”

“You’re a genius, babe. They called me immediately,” He says, kissing his knuckles. Steve frowns, seeing a bruise there. Eddie notices and his grin takes on a chaotic edge, “You punched a security guard.”

“What?”

“For real, babe,” Eddie laughs at the panicked look on his face. “I don’t know what they did to trigger you, but you fuckin’ decked one of ‘em.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to jail.”

“Nah, it’s all good. I took care of it,” Eddie says and then to the skeptical look on Steve’s face, he rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine. The guy is a fan and I gave him tickets not to press charges. Also, he feels pretty bad about spooking you since you clearly weren’t in your right mind.”

“Was in my left mind then?” Steve half-jokes, half-yawns. “Who brought me in?”

“You did.” Eddie’s smile dims in a way that’s a little sad but full of love. “You came here on your own actually – without shoes. We’re gonna have to teach your left mind about shoes – and, uh. Based on what I’ve heard, you were looking for a patient.”

“A patient? What patient?”

“They, uh. They said you were looking for Max.”

#Post-Vecna Steve was always either coming or going from the hospital and after he has a nightmare about Max it’s just easier for his mind to #put his anxiety into a routine so he does what he did then and he goes to the hospital #Side note: I love the thought of little toddler Steve hearing his mom tell his dad’s secretary that he’s definitely sleeping with that she’s #replaceable and nothing special and then internalizing that mean girl energy #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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this-witch-writes · 1 year

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Part 4 (Show Don't Tell)

Back to: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

‘Maybe you are a spoiled child!’ Eddie shouted, the blood was pounding in his ears so loudly that he almost didn’t hear the dialtone.

Steve had hung up.

Huffing in frustration, Eddie went to redial, Steve was not getting off that easy, but then he realised that he didn’t even know where he’d called from.

Eddie slammed the phone down and whirled around to rant at his uncle, who’d taken refuge in the kitchen, only for his breath to hitch painfully in his chest. Eddie hated crying, but it felt like his lungs had been shredded. He understood what Steve meant by “I couldn’t breathe”.

‘Ed?’ Wayne put up a calming hand out. ‘You need to walk that off before you talk?’

‘No, I just,’ he panted. ‘I have no idea what just happened.’

‘It got a bit heated there.’

‘No I mean.’ Eddie sobbed. ‘I think it’s really over. Apparently I’m lovely but I don’t love him.’

‘Not that he doesn’t love you then?’ Wayne clarified.

Eddie shook his head, some tears getting knocked loose into his hair. ‘It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because…’

‘Tell me what he said, son, let me help.’

‘You never say it. You smile and nod along and when I asked you, you acted like I was a spoiled child,’ Eddie echoed hoarsely trying to get it right.

‘That’s what we thought, no? He wanted you to say the words.’ Wayne graciously framed it as “we thought” and not “I said”.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Eddie repeated. ‘It’s done. It’s fucking ruined anyway and he’s gone.’

‘Is that what you want?’ Wayne pressed.

‘It doesn’t matter what I want.’

His uncle looked sad, but understanding. ‘It does to me, Eddie, always has.’

‘But…’ his lips trembled. ‘What if I try and it still…’

‘If you try and it doesn’t work, you’ll recover,’ Wayne put an arm around his shaky shoulders. ‘You were brave enough to go back to that high school where they treated you bad, and again even after the Caver boy’s nonsense. You’re brave enough to give that silly boy another chance.’

‘I don’t know how to start. I don’t blame him for hanging up but I don’t know Robin’s number. I miss him already and I’m still mad,’ he admitted with a watery laugh.

‘Be mad,’ Wayne told him. ‘As long as it’s the kind of mad that makes you ask for better, not the kind that makes you act worse.’

‘When’d you get so poetic, old man?’ Eddie laughed properly that time. ‘Where was all this when I was writing my campaigns?’

Wayne shrugged, looking a little pleased with himself. ‘I got depths, kid, and you never asked.’

A bit of a pattern, Eddie realised. Goddammit.

In the end there was only one thing to do. He didn’t have the number for Robin’s dorm but it wasn’t hard to find Columbia university campus on a map. Wayne packed him into the van with snacks and one more pep talk then Eddie started to drive.

The day after the disastrous call with Eddie, Steve didn’t get out of Robin’s bed. She agreed to give him 24 hours to mope and cry in peace. Her roommate wasn’t thrilled about the surprise visit at first until she picked up enough context to express her sympathy to Robin’s heartbroken “gay best friend”.

‘I’ve never been anyone’s “gay best friend” before,’ Steve snorted.

‘I have,’ Robin teased. ‘It’s easy, I’ll show you the ropes.’

‘Well I was already halfway there.’

That morning he actually showered, did his hair properly and let Robin drag him to another trendy café for breakfast.

Steve didn’t want his broken heart to make him bitter about how at home Robin seemed in New York. It was like this anxious weight had been lifted off her shoulders that was only obvious when it was gone. Still, he was a little envious. He only ever felt that at home with…

Steve sighed into his coffee and Robin looked up with sympathy. ‘Want me to start listing his irritating habits? For one thing, he eats with his hands like an animal.’

‘He just really enjoys his food.’ Steve defended weakly.

‘He walked on tables in his shoes.’

‘He’s spontaneous.’

‘Steve.’ She glared, done with his shit.

Another sigh heaved its way from Steve’s chest. ‘The problem is that I’m not mad, just sad.’

‘Do you need help getting mad or do you just want to forget? We can do something fun? Have a distraction?’ Robin offered.

Steve shook his head. ‘I don’t want to forget how he was good to me for so long or pretend he awful when he wasn’t. He made me really happy and even if it’s over, I’m not over it yet.’

They walked the slow way back to campus, while Robin tried to convince Steve to finally, finally move out to New York. The answer had technically always been yes, but he’d been dragging his feet for months while he and Eddie saved their money. Just as they were arguing about the money side of things, Steve spotted some very familiar curls on a hunched figure sitting on the steps to Robin’s dorm building. Steve froze, his hands shaking, and Eddie looked up. He looked a bit the worse for wear too, with deep shadows under his eyes and his hair in a mess.

‘You’re not a spoiled child,’ Eddie blurted out as Steve reached him. ‘Your parents sucked too much to spoil you.’

Steve made a punched-out, incredulous noise and Robin groaned into her palms.

‘Did you seriously drive eleven hours cross country to remind me that parents didn’t love me?’ Steve gaped at him. ‘Because I definitely already knew that.’

‘No,’ Eddie grimaced, flushing with embarrassment. ‘I meant… I forget sometimes, that you still expect people to act and think like they do, that it was normal for you.’

‘God, You two suck at this,’ Robin groaned. ‘I’ll be over there if anyone needs an adult translator.’ She sat on the opposite side of the steps.

Eddie gave her outburst a grateful look which just added to Steve’s confusion. ‘I don’t think you’re like my parents?’ He offered, not sure where Eddie going with this.

‘But you assumed that me not saying those words meant the same thing as them not saying them?’ Eddie challenged gently. ‘Even though I didn’t act like them…’ he hesitated. ‘Right?’

‘Of course not,’ Steve huffed again. ‘No one’s ever been as good to me as you. That’s why it was so confusing.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say the words,’ Eddie whispered. ‘I thought I had. It might not mean the same thing to me, but I should have heard you asking.’

‘I’m sorry I ran off.’ Steve said for good measure. ‘And that I wasn’t clearer. I felt so ungrateful, asking for more, asking too much.’

‘It’s not too much, it’s just not how I normally think about love.’ Eddie shrugged. ‘It was easier for me to assume… well I’m used to not feeling good enough.’

‘You’re more than good enough, Eds,’ Steve stepped closer, reaching out nervously, not sure if were back to hugging yet. Luckily Eddie made the choice for both of them and pulled him close.

Steve squeezed Eddie so tight as Eddie practically melted into his arms, clearly exhausted beyond much more talking but he managed to murmur ‘I never want to make you feel like that again’ into the skin of Steve’s neck.

‘Me either,’ Steve agreed, kissing his temple.

Then they remembered that they were standing somewhere far too public to create this much of a scene.

‘I’m still a little mad at you,’ Eddie admitted quietly once they’d sat more calmly on the steps.

‘Me too,’ Steve said. ‘Don’t want to be though.’

Eddie smiled at that. ‘Wayne said it was alright to be mad, so long as it pushed us to be better not worse.’

‘I won’t argue with Wayne.’ Steve brushed their fingers together on the stone step. ‘I want to be better at not taking you for granted, not assuming you’ll always read my mind,’ he bumped his shoulder. ‘Even if it feels like you can sometimes.’

‘I want you to never forget how much I love you,’ Eddie said plainly. As soon as he finally said it, Steve had no idea how he’d ever doubted.

‘There is no way you two disasters are staying in my room after that display,’ Robin called over, reminding them she was there and sending Steve’s cheeks scarlet with mortification.

‘I have motel,’ Eddie laughed. ‘Getting a room was cheaper than paying for just parking in this nightmare city.’

‘I think…’ Steve hesitated then decided that Eddie shouldn’t be the only brave one that day. ‘I think you’re going to like this nightmare city. I think we could both like it.’

Eddie blinked in surprise. ‘You still want to move together. You seemed nervous about even before the fight.’

‘I was,’ Steve laughed at himself. ‘And I'm not saying we pack up tomorrow or that we don't have stuff to figure out still but... I guess it turns out that you driving across the country so I didn’t throw away the best thing in my life, matters even more to me than the words.’

‘So you don’t need me to say it?’ Eddie teased.

‘Maybe once more?’

Eddie leaned in close to whisper in his ear. ‘I love you, Stevie.’

The end.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

#steddie #steddie drabble #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie angst #stranger things #stranger things drabble #wayne munson #robin buckley #my fics

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danwhobrowses · 17 days

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So a thing happened on Critical Role this week (campaign 3 ep 91), we're gonna talk about it - a long talk - so if you haven't been caught up and don't wanna be spoiled don't keep reading okay?

One of the disadvantages of being in a different time zone is that after fretting all morning, going to work, thinking 'it's 7am maybe it's done now' I had to sit in my office for a stressful final half hour murmuring don't do this don't fucking do this don't you dare fucking do this!

I already was worried for everyone given the cliffhanger last episode, and the 5 hour length made me further worried as players kept being knocked down by Otohan Thull - already frightening in base form but now with an even higher AC and empowered. Then Sam Riegel had to do what he does best, a devastating sacrifice where FCG blows himself up to take down Otohan - Ludinus' No. 2, harrowed for being proficient in slaughter, defeated by no assassin or warrior but a cleric saving their friends. We've been well past 'get off the moon' hours with this one, but now there is an impact on every one of the Hells to think about, which is what this will be about.

FCG Though he is dead there is still stuff to talk about with FCG's death. A common debate right now is the potential of the Reincarnate spell; while the wording of the death implies that FCG's current body is irreparable there is a chance that a 5th Level Druid Spell can fashion him a new body, one of flesh, bone and tongue. The body itself needs to be dead for less than 10 days so there is wiggle room to gain the necessary components too if the top brass of Exandria turn it into a fetch quest. There is argument on both sides though; if FCG comes back does it undermine his sacrifice? Perhaps, but there's no incentive for the Hells to not try. Reincarnation hasn't quite happened in Critical Role yet - Since Molly/Lucien/Kingsley was kinda different, he kinda had the opposite, different mind same body - so it'd be a refreshing new option and also a way to redesign FCG without having to create a whole new cleric (because they definitely need a cleric) with a whole new skillset that the Hells will need to warm towards before the final battle. But at the same time, the soul has to be willing. FCG was content with his sacrifice, and in the arms of the Changebringer would he go back? I'd like to hope so if it's an option, it'd also entertain a whole new character arc for him as a 'real boy' - plus Matt and Sam don't have to fully abide to the D100 rule of what race he turns into. Of course, I like this angle more than needing a new character, because I like happy endings and it makes narrative sense that the Hells would claw and bite to pull him from that sweet goodnight. It would also validate a reason for the Hells to align with the gods, because if divine favour comes into play and the Gods decide against helping Bell's Hells' greatest advocate for saving them then they are foolishly and callously forsaking key players to their survival, FCG reincarnating with the help of the Gods would play a big part in the Hells standing with them rather than losing faith in them, and even with friction between the Titans & Temults and the Gods from the past they would have a common enemy. Still living or dying can have varying effects on the other characters.

Ashton From the moment Ashton met FCG they wanted to make sure this little bot would be okay, that they'd learn to value their life and be able to thrive. While part of that did happen, Ashton is likely going to feel like nothing's changed since Bassuras; knocked out by Otohan and when awakened a friend is dead, another person they couldn't protect.

Before the shard, I think Ashton would very easily fly off the handle, in their anger they'd blame everything including themselves and maybe even consider leaving themselves, it probably have made them more self-destructive too. Now though I'm not so sure, nobody would hold it against them to waver a little on their promise to take care of themselves in a burst of grief, this was after all their best friend someone they looked after like a little brother, and while I can see Ashton quietly and angrily grieving I can also see Ashton double down on trying to keep their promise, making sure that FCG didn't go out like a martyr and that it won't be in vain. FCG reincarnating would assist in Ashton's character drive too, since I feel like they would detest any replacement cleric because it's not FCG, they may also be less abrasive towards the gods if they came through for them and proved that they care - at least to the Changebringer, think they'd still throw copper at the Dawnfather given the whole Angel incident.

Imogen As the nominated leader of Bell's Hells, many will probably look to Imogen Temult for action, the problem is she has her own mother issues to deal with too - and I'm not entirely sold that Liliana has fully made a turn just yet, only that she won't hand over the Hells to Ludinus. FCG's death is gonna produce a lot of guilt from Imogen though, she was detesting the fact that she had to play dead at 1HP while Otohan cut down her friends again, she will likely blame her inaction which in turn may push her to be more aggressive in combat.

At the same time, I can see her being one of the more gung ho characters to push towards the Reincarnate option, perhaps even going as far as to accost or lambast anyone regardless of alliances or rank who she feels isn't as committed. Imogen has been in the position of loss before, and knowing that FCG had a connection with FRIDA she would likely compel herself to fix it rather than have to deliver the bad news. Regardless of whether he reincarnates though I feel like Imogen may look towards some more defensive spells, and maybe through Liliana try to tap into the powers of an Exalted to try and match the power she saw from Otohan, a risky endeavour for sure but FCG took an even greater risk for them.

Orym Orym is probably the toughest of the Hells to read when it comes to FCG's death. There will of course be a deep sadness at the loss of a friend, but I would also sense a...not bitterness but discontent that this is how it went down. Otohan killed his family, he kept fighting her until he could no longer stand because that's what they would've done, and now she's dead but it doesn't make it better, he wasn't the one to do it, he didn't even see it, and the one who did is gone with her. When Bor'dor was killed, Orym coldly reminded himself that 'we're at war', but I don't think he can justify that way with FCG, the loss was greater than the catharsis.

The death also has to turn attention to his deal with Nanna Mori. Many have pointed out that there is a lot of technicalities that may prolong, void or complete the deal; it was never specified how many times the Hells could return from the moon to continue the deal, but at the same time they did technically return from the moon to Exandria safe and sound via the Secret Backdoor. Still, Mori is his best friend's grandmother, there could be leeway on that matter too and even if he does have to commit to the deal (which I call 'Fatekeeper Orym') it's never been explicitly said that Orym needs to constantly attend to Mori in the Feywild, only that he has to be her caretaker and answer her beck and call. However, FCG's death will likely provide a sobering thought that his deal with Mori was perhaps voided, unless there is one more thread he can have her pull. When it comes to seeking options to bring a friend back, I would keep a close eye on Orym - it's not the first time Liam's resolved himself to be damned before.

Fearne Fearne will likely be a linchpin if the Hells seek out Reincarnate. The spell is exclusive to Druids and if Keyleth isn't on hand to do it the task and pressure will fall to her. It'll be interesting how she reacts, I don't wanna say she'll be the most positive of it because she'll certainly be upset, but I can see her being optimistic even if it's to also convince herself, the one who is most encouraging to find a way. As a shipper I of course want her to be the one who comforts and gets through to Ashton while they grieve but if she also is key to his reincarnation that also adds to their slow-burn. Outside of that, FCG's death may also lead into learning about Mori's deal with Orym, which will probably anger her that Orym kept it from her, there is also the fact that having FCG's life in her hands may bring back bad memories of Bassuras and Whitestone. One must also especially worry about her Asmodeus calling card, the Prince of Lies does nothing for free and I still feel like Klask was planted in her path by Asmodeus' (and maybe even Athion's) titan-seeking design.

If FCG does reincarnate though, I could see her friendship with FCG being even greater than it was, since they'll both feel a greater zeal for life - it may also make her feel further distant from her Evil vision, since she will have saved half her friends rather than risked killing them. If not though, Fearne may have to play mediator for the new cleric and may also be pushed towards freeing up more slots for healing to provide more support for the Hells in future battles.

Chetney It's gonna be an interesting one for Chetney too, from one perspective you could see him thinking that FCG traded their life for his; he died, he made peace with that, but then the one who revived him died. Chetney's more personal mindset has often been cloaked in secrecy, perhaps as one of the least open of the Hells despite many claiming him as the Heart of the group, so I wonder if Chetney may harbour some Survivor's Guilt for what happened.

I can see Chetney being the one to keep his emotions close to his chest, even if FCG were to reincarnate he would perhaps try to shrug off that he always knew it'd happen anyway. That being said someone who remains stoic and unwavering may prove a positive or a negative to the group, depending on the person or their interpretation of it. If a new cleric comes along though I could see him being additionally protective of them, having been the new guy before.

Laudna We should all be worried for Laudna right now. The recent 4SD already revealed that Laudna's 'close to the brink' and I'm pretty sure this is the brink. The aftermath of the Otohan fight will likely push each of the Hells to get stronger, since had they hit harder or been able to take stronger blows it wouldn't have come to this, but that will mean bad things when it comes to Laudna, as she may seek to gain power the only way she thinks she can - through Delilah. After all her last two levels went to Sorcery and did little in the fight, whereas her Warlock class Eldritch Blasts hurt Otohan fairly decently, such a thing can linger in the mind for Delilah to manipulate.

It'll be telling if they do try to Reincarnate him whether the damage will have been done already to Laudna, and that the joy of bringing him back turns to tragedy of Laudna losing herself further, as it often does it will fall to how she leans on Imogen, and how open about it she'll be to her. If FCG is lost however, we may have to keep a very close eye on Laudna being next.

Bell's Hells As I mentioned with Laudna, FCG's death will have made something apparent and clear; despite everything Bell's Hells need to get stronger. Even at Lv13, even with Exalted powers, Fey bargains and Titan shards they still just barely escaped a TPK, and granted they were weakened and worn out but no fight is guaranteed to ever be fought at 100%. Otohan may've been the toughest General of the Vanguard but the other Generals - the Weavemind, Zathuda and the Dominon of Cruft Commander - are still not ones to take lightly, Ludinus is still not one to take lightly, and if Liliana is going to be used by him to become a vessel for Predathos, that cannot be taken lightly. Bell's Hells may need to look towards enhancing their stats as well as their equipment, the harness is still a factor too which can boost them all with enough enchanted items at their disposal. An interesting one would be if Otohan's backpack ends up in one of the Hells' hands; many beforehand have talked about Orym being an Echo Knight but I would personally like to see Ashton take it, since it is powered by the Potion of Possibility like their own Dunamancy powers, it's possible (eheh) that they may align in some manner and could you imagine Ashton + 3 Echoes all raging to get All 4 Dunamancies? Otohan's swords may also provide unique properties for Chetney and/or Orym to use. Reincarnation or not I feel like that may be the Hells' next plan once it's discussed whether to attempt Reincarnation and they're off of Ruidus, gathering allies will likely also be something to prepare for for the final battle given how Otohan stated that they have 'enough Ruidusborns' for their plan. As a group it is difficult to tell if this will strengthen or weaken them, it could strengthen them in a 'never again' way like the Nein, but they were also very enthusiastic about bringing Molly back - it drove them through several arcs - FCG however often was the Hells' beacon of hope and the self-imposed attempted therapist, without that the Hells will either have to put it upon themselves to go the extra lengths or they'll close further in on themselves. If FCG does reincarnate I feel like it would definitely strengthen them mentally but if not I am not so sure.

It shouldn't come to a surprise that I will hold onto the Reincarnate potential so that the Hells can get back their friend, but rest assured I'm worried for all of them right now, there are crossroads ahead.

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flickering-nightfall · 8 months

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So, your Infinity Train crossover got me to watch the show, and... woah. Woah. I would love to know if you had any more ideas, blurbs, thoughts, anything about that crossover, because now I can't get enough of imagining the viciously murderous cat and accidentally-fratricidal robot on the train.

I'm glad you liked Infinity Train too! (and thank you!) More on the crossover... I gotta admit I haven't thought of much other than the initial "haha what if" idea. Maybe I can speculate though:

Spoilers ahead!

There were many hilarious and thoughtful takes on how Pebbles could possibly end up on the train, in the notes of the initial post. I joked that it'd just tear a hole through his structure, but there are more (and less) sane options than that.

Since we only see human passengers on the train, a lot of people would probably mistake Pebbles and Arti as denizens. Simon and Grace would probably not take to them having numbers well. I feel like they'd most likely think it was a trick, but it could shake up their perspective too.

Man humans look kind of similar to ancients maybe. That doesn't mean much to Arti - and I think humans look dissimilar enough from scavs to be spared by her wrath. But to Pebbles...

Also, iterators haven't communicated with another civilization-era sapient species in a quite a while probably. Some interesting stuff can come out of that.

How many migraines do you think Pebbles gets from trying to figure out what the hell is up with denizens? Or the train itself? I feel like he'd have an aneurysm if he had to interact with Alan Dracula. If he goes home and tries to tell the others what happened without any proof, they'd think he'd had a rot-induced fever dream.

Numbers are dependent on how close a passenger is to solving their problem. Arti, having already killed the scav chieftain, according to Rain World has hit the point of no return. So her body is completely wrapped up in numbers. But like Amelia, with enough time and determination it might be possible. The main problem is... Arti has to want to fix her problem first. The setup for her to do that is there. She's with Pebbles, so she has less of a reason to go off on a rampage unless she's being threatened. The lack of scavs wouldn't stop her from resorting to violence at this point, but the pure strangeness and unfamiliarity of her surroundings should at least baffle her into a different mental state.

I think in order to get an exit, Arti needs to make peace with herself. She must acknowledge what she has become, and to truly believe that she needs to change. It has little to do with the death of her children at that point. She needs to escape the self-perpetuating circle of violence.

Pebbles' number is much smaller (but still huge) because he's entrenched in rage and isolation and frustration on a massive timescale, but we see him eventually come to a resolution in Rivulet's campaign. How would the train define his problem though? It could be his anger at Moon and Suns, blaming them for his current state (even if Suns is partially at fault). It could be his tendency to close himself off, his refusal to talk to others or accept help. It could be his denial, believing he can handle and fix everything by himself. It could be his overall arrogance or ego. There's a lot of options there. Ultimately I think whatever brings him to think similarly to how he does in Rivulet's campaign would do the trick.

The sad thing is that Pebbles would probably be better off staying on the train too. I'm not sure if he'd be affected by the rot there, but he'd at least he could (literally) get out of his own head. And he has no choice but to touch grass interact with new people and situations. But to deny his exit would be to deny responsibility for what he's done. If he's really gotten better, that means he knows he can't run away anymore.

If Pebbles went to the train without Arti there's a chance he'd get killed or ghom'd two days into the trip. We are assuming his puppet is capable of walking for this AU, but also I do not think he knows how to walk. Good luck pink guy!

On the flipside. Pebbles could... probably take over the train even more than Amelia ever did, especially as a (bio)mechanical being himself. The only thing that could limit him are taboos maybe. Any iterator could do this, really. Lots of potential paths with that one.

Something something, One-One and iterators both solving people's big problems with varying amounts of success, and both engineering weird organisms...

...does a RW character that gets ghom'd return to the great cycle? Their soul gets devoured, or their life essence, it's not clear. I guess which one could determine what happens. But also they are in another universe where there is probably no cycle. Are ghoms a triple affirmative? Is crossdimensional travel? The latter wouldn't fit the "portable and generally applicable" part but still. This is a whole rabbit hole and a half, isn't it!

The train is dangerous and all, but that just makes Rain World characters a hilarious fit for it. Like this is just their daily life. Honestly I think their home world is more dangerous than the train, just in less wacky ways.

Lastly: I haven't even touched upon what introducing other characters could do for this narrative, or how they would react. So many possibilities!

If anyone wants to do more with this, please feel free!

#rw spoilers #dp spoilers #infinity train spoilers #text #ask #thetroupemaster #anon #rambles #long post

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lady-ashfade · 2 years

Text

Misplaced notebook

Eddie Munson x Preppy Fem!Reader

Plot: You decided to return your boyfriends notebook when it got misplaced into your bag. His little club had a surprise when you showed up.

Warnings: A little spicy and implied to doing things, also you being a absolute hottie. Bratty type reader. Please if Eddie was real-

You couldn’t say how it ended up in your bag but it did. And you couldn’t certainly let your boyfriend be without it on his big night. I mean he’s been talking non stop about his newest campaign for “hellfire” and you know it was important to him.

But as soon as you stepped into the schools door nostalgia hit hard. You couldn’t believe it’s been a year since you graduated since it felt like yesterday you were waking up early just to get yourself ready. Being Miss popular wasn’t as easy as it seemed and being looked at every day as the schools “hot chick” made it impossible to show up to school looking bad.

But changed quickly as soon as you realized that everything you cared about before didn’t matter anymore, you could finally be yourself. Once you found Eddie alone at the record store he quickly took a chance to talk to you and he soon realized you weren’t as bad as he remembered.

Your hands pulled open the doors of the room that had a “Hellfire club” poster on it. The darkness of the room was brighten up from the light where you opened the door. Eyes scanning until you meet Eddie’s and you gave him a apologized look.

“Sorry”

You looked around to the people sitting at his table and all their eyes stared back at you. Almost all boys but only one girl who looked younger then high schooler’s but you’re just were happy they found something in their life. But you didn’t miss the looked they all gave you. They all wondering why in the hell someone like you, ended up here.

From the tight clothing and preppy style of everything you had on. But let’s face it everyone knew who you were.

“Took you long enough, darling” The way all their heads snapped almost made you laugh because clearly they were shocked. But you still held the door open and gave Eddie a pout and batted your eyes at him.

“I can always leave” The looks transferred between the two of you. Eddie sighed and rolled his eyes knowing that you would actually leave with his book. But you being stubborn and petty is what made him fall for you, it helps you actually loved him and made him feel happy. And that body-

“Sorry, can I have my book” you all watched as he stood up and bowed his head, moving his hand out looking like he was treating Royalty.

“Princess”

You smiled and closed the door and the sound of your heels meeting the floor rang through the walls as you swayed your hips. Some of the guys jaws dropped while watching you walked over to Eddie.

“Only because you asked so nicely” You reached into your side bag and pulled out his covered notebook. You pushed it into his chest as he groaned but only to smirk at you as he knew exactly what you were trying to do. That little attitude will be corrected later.

Turning your heels to the table of people you smiled sweetly at all do them. “Good luck to all of you, Eddie here isn’t going to go easy on you” You winked at them and walked to the door and stepped out.

They watched you leave with stunned looks on their faces as to what just happened- And if it even happened. You two didn’t seem like the type to be in a couple.

“How in the hell did he get her?” Erica question in confusion. Eddie just smirk at all of them and ignored any looks or questions and started the campaign.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #hot Eddie Munson #stranger things season 4 #stranger things Eddie #Eddie Munson x female reader #stranger things x reader #hellfire club

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sparring-spirals · 5 days

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I got to say I really liked the episode (despite only having watched exu calamity of the exu series) and I think maybe Matt needed a breather after so many fast paced, lore filled episodes.

however, I am kinda bummed that the fcg processing has been put on hold for (at least) two weeks now and that means that, despite them being great actors that truly merge with their characters at the table, their reactions will be much less raw and there’s a chance some of them will forget tidbits of information, emotions they felt when it happened because they (as role players) will have had time to process it out of the game and it might create a dissonance in the game. tbf I kind of felt the difference even between the end of ep 91 and the beginning of 92 but it made sense because technically they were still running and couldn’t afford to process. idk. I have hope that we’ll still see that raw emotion, but I fear it won’t be as impactful as it could’ve been, especially if they’ll have to put the “reporting for duty” hat on immediately when they get to the camp

I think being a little bummed about the sort of unexpected hiatus on the Bell's Hells/Post F.C.G processing is super understandable! As someone who also really did enjoy the Crownskeepers return (hello im still yelling about Opal internally), I'm kind of in the same camp of being kind of thrown/disappointed about not getting to really dig into/sit with the Bell's Hells post-F.C.G loss. Like, LOVED the Crownkeepers, fascinating second half, kind of meh on the specific timing.

I'm holding my reservations about whether they're going to have to keep running/moving once we return to their portion of the story, since hey, until it happens (or doesn't!), we don't know, so I don't feel like getting too in my head about it until then.

That said! I do think that in general the cast puts characterization and staying true to the emotions of the character/story as a very high priority within the campaign. I think you're right that it won't be the exact same as if they had done a big emotional blowup/goodbye/processing scene in the same ep where they lost F.C.G, or immediately after. I don't think that means it has to be less impactful, just that- yeah, they'll have had more time to actually think/process it.

But they're also all professional voice actors who have, IMO, thus far shown how much they think about the inner lives of their characters and enjoy really digging deep into the emotional/interpersonal aspects of roleplay.

My assumption (my hope?) is that with additional time to think about + process a devastating/deeply emotional loss for their character(s), they'd choose to lean into that more, and not less. It wont be the same as the immediate raw reactions, thats true! But i dont think that means it has to be less impactful, even if they (as people) have had more time to process, and will be choosing how their characters, fresh off the loss, react. I dont think thats a guarantee it will be less impactful/emotional (maybe the additional thinking would actually enhance the reactions being true/insightful to the characters vs gut reactions from cast), but it will be different.

But if the cast chooses to lean into the heartbreak/emotions, and the circumstances of the BH in the upcoming ep enable it, I'm sure they can still kick my ass (emotionally), timeskip or not.

In general, I'm cautiously optimistic about what could happen next! Even if I don't love the timing thus far. I think there's still plenty of ways for me to get what I'm hoping for wrt F.C.G/BH. :] There are plenty of ways for me to get let down too, probably, but until it happens, or doesn't, I'm opting to not get too doomery about it. We'll see.

I uh. Hope that helps? A bit? Being bummed about specific things you were hoping for being off the table is totally reasonable. just hoping to lend an alternate way of viewing it, if desired.

(i wrote the sentence: "don't be lamenting your chickens before they hatch" and then went "what the fuck" out loud. i spent 4 hours at work today just doing systems diagramming and my brain is fried. clearly. keeping this here for my own entertainment.)

#im kind of tired im sorry if this makes no sense lmao. i appreciate the ask! sorry if my answer comes off as flippant. i do get where you're #coming from and wanted to share how im personally choosing to approsch it haha #critical role #cr spoilers #c3e92 #bell's hells #spar speaks #ask away!#speculation #fcg #imo its like how we probably wont be getting situations like marisha shellshocked live tweeting after jester saved beau with a cupcake #but we get the cast doing sneaky little tweets before the episode airs but after theyve already experienced it #different for sure. doesnt have to be worse. thats more up to personal opinion i think #i fully wrote that chicken thing and went. thats the idiom right. and then stared at it and went. ... no. its not.#should i have waited to answer this ask? maybe. but oh well.#i should probably get some sleep though

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manicformunson · 2 years

Note

just- eddie with a badass, metal reader? and he’s too nervous to talk to her, hes almost intimidated, but then she goes up to him and confronts him abt his stares??? i’m done for.

do you wanna touch me

pairing eddie munson x fem!reader

summary reader is the girl of eddie's dreams and he can't help but stare at her any and every chance he got. he never expected her to call him out in front of his friends

note i am a firm believer in eddie being a total perv lol also abrupt ending sorry i like to tease :p

Eddie was a creep, he knew it. He literally could not help but drool over the girl in his math class, Y/N was like his hottest wet dream. She was always sporting shirts from his favorite bands, her hair always dyed unnatural colors and sometimes if he was lucky she wore a skirt, showing off a huge dnd dragon tattoo on her thigh. When that happened Eddie always had to pick his jaw up off the floor and excuse himself to the bathroom.

Eddie found himself more often than not rubbing one out at the thought of her plush thighs around his neck and his face buried in her pussy, or her tits squished up against his cock with her tonuge gingerly licking the tip -- the latter being his favorite.

One time he had to run to the bathroom to jerk off after math class when she wore one of those devilish skirts and moved her legs, causing Eddie to catch a glimpse of her panties. It was not his proudest moment.

Even Gareth had mentioned that Eddie was obsessed and that if he had the balls he should just go up and talk to her, but as funny as it was to everyone else, Eddie was intimidated. He had never met a girl who liked heavy metal and had tattoos of DND dragons, plus she was drop dead gorgeous.

Thank god for the weekend though. It was the only time he got a break from Y/N and her unknowing curse on him.

He had no intention of swimming, just soaking up the sun with a cigarette and maybe checking out the mom's in bikinis until he saw Y/N across the pool. He felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. "Jesus Christ." He muttered when he was able to breathe again.

Eddie had picked up Gareth, Jeff and Dustin for a day at the pool -- solely Dustin's idea but Eddie would later kiss his feet for it. When they got there they had picked out spots near the gate and Eddie laid out on the chair and pulled out a cigarette, promising to look after they're stuff.

He had thought about asking her to join Hellfire since she'd probably enjoy it but the fear of rejection was too much for him. That and it'd be pretty hard to concentrate on a campaign when Y/N's pretty eyes were on him.

She was wearing a simple black bikini but goddamn, Eddie could see that she had a couple more tattoos -- one on her right breast of a bat with no head, some phrase on her hip bone, and when she turned her back towards him Eddie could see she had little wings right above the waist line of her bottoms.

Jeff and Gareth noticed him drooling over her and decided to follow Dustin to the pool, leaving Eddie a mumbling mess. All he could think about is her tramp stamp and how it contrasted against her wet skin, god Eddie had to fight popping a semi right then and there.

"There a reason your staring at me Munson?" Y/N said through a taunting smile, swaying her hips until she was standing over him. Eddie only held his hands up in defense, "I just, I uh. I mean-" Y/N crossed her arms, making Eddie very aware of how her boobs squished against her arms.

"I just wanted, wanted to-" Eddie couldn't think -- she was so much hotter than Eddie had thought. "Wanted to?" Y/N cocked her eyebrow at him, her fingers tapping against her elbows. "Your tattoos! You got, you got nice tattoos."

She laughed at him and Eddie couldn't help but smile at it, even if she was laughing at him. Y/N decided to sit down in the chair beside him and lean in a little, unknowingly giving him access to see the forbidden valleys of her breasts.

"You're practically drooling, and you're trying to tell me it's because of my tattoos?"

Eddie didn't respond, his brain only focused on the tattoo on her tits which made her grab his chin, forcing him to look at her and continue to mumble out nonsense.

Y/N knew that he had a crush on her, it was a bit pathetic but damn did she think it was cute. She couldn't help but tease.

She leaned closer to him, enough that her perfume clogged his senses, and pressed her lips to his ear, "You know, I got a few more tats underneath my swimsuit if you ever wanna see them."

She licked the shell of his ear causing him to visibly shutter and moan. Eddie grabbed her arm, "I, I got a van." Y/N giggled down at his desperate state. "Hm. I was thinking maybe back at my place later. So I could show you all of my pretty tattoos, and you could take the time to appreciate them."

Her hand was now rubbing up and down his arm giving him goosebumps and his head was so foggy with her presents that Eddie couldn't register what she was insinuating, he just nodded.

When her soft lips pressed against his cheek is when he felt his dick jump at the sudden feeling, "See you then pretty boy." And she was gone, leaving Eddie dazed and with a semi.

Little did he know he wasn't being very secretive about his staring, catching her attention and jumping when she starting storming over to him. Oh shit, he thought before trying to come up with an excuse.

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female character

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theincognitomoth · 2 years

Text

Sweeter than Custard

Mr. Wolf x female reader

Rating: +18

Word count: 7.4k

Summary: “I meant what I said last night, Moe,” you said. “And I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. So don’t… don’t pretend it didn’t.”

Water drops falling from your face into the metal of the sink never echoed so loud, other than that, your heart beating on your ears was the only sound in the apartament. Your guts twisted.

“Please say something.” you said.

“You were very drunk.” Wolf finally spoke. “I… tried not to think much about it. I didn’t know if you would even remember last night, much less that you really meant any of that.”

“I did.”

During a party late at night, you get drunk out of your good senses and let your feelings for your friend slip. The next morning you can't tell what haunts you more; Your words or your actions.

Warnings: smut - vulgar language - friends to lovers - drinking - pra!se k!nk - reader is a bit bit of a pillow princess but only because Wolf is a service top - no Y/N - I swear, the summary is the angstiest part in the entire fic.

The ‘too soft to sleep in’ couch swallowed your overheated body cocooned in a furry blanket. Awake for some time now, you knew pain awaited the moment you opened your eyes, lovely Mr. Sun outside, in all its glorious morning shine, would blind you and enable the sledgehammer banging your skull to keep going at full strength.

Stupid, foolish, horny little you. A conscious person would’ve quit after the fifth drink, but no, not you, you kept going, the strawberry mojito cold sourness overpowered your exhausted resilience. If only your problems resumed to the hangover. A liver failure perished in comparison to the hot shame crawling its way over your twisted guts as the blurred memories gained focus.

“Shit…” You pressed your palms against your eyes.

Wolf was right, hangover and regret don’t go well together.

Last night was supposed to be harmless fun. After a particular rough work month, Diane decided to treat you and the guys to a private party. She reserved the top of the fancy condominium you all had the privilege to live in - perks of working and being friends with the governor, the budget was anything but tight - Chilly night, open sky dotted with fainted stars by the city lights, and a crystalline pool smelling of chlorine. Colorful lights and two dozen silver balloons scattered completed the scenery. Diane filled the place with snacks and drinks, and you couldn’t keep your hands off the custard tarts, sitting in one of the floral sofas by the covered bar area, you devoured the sweets. Uncovering criminal masterminds from the city alongside Diane’s re-election campaign drained pleasure out of your life, you needed and deserved to indulge a little.

Chatter, dance, and music at the right volume to avoid noise complaints. Harmless fun. The problem began when Diane, bless her unknowing soul, pointed out the sheer variety of alcoholic beverages up for grabs in the open, do it yourself, bar. Chances of avoiding a fine due to loudness flew out the loft alongside Piranha’s pants. Property damage would weigh on his and Miss Governor's wallet, for as it turns out, drunk Diane much enjoyed wrestling, and Piranha jumped at the opportunity to go crazy. She poked his eyes and he bit her tail, whoever lost the round that no one bothered to judge took a shot of rum with orange soda, ending with the two passed out on the floor. Snake stayed with Wolf at the bar, drinking and talking like civilized people, but forgot the calmness when Shark took hundreds of push-pops to the pool with him. Snake threw himself in the water without much thought, ‘I’m a quarter river snake!’ he said, and came back five minutes later with no push-pop, but poor Weebs, who in her drunken state cannonballed the 8 feet deep pool. She was saved, but her laptop passed to a better place. After that you guys played impressions, and if not for Shark's impeccable acting skills, Wolf would’ve won with his unhinged Professor Marmalade act as he screamed the meteor was a heart and not a goddamn buttcrack. Shark passed out in the pool, Snake and Weebs called it a night soon after. You almost followed suit, trying to be a responsible drinker to avoid a next day death wish, but everytime you glanced at the strawberry mojitos, your hand moved on its own and before you knew it, you had downed two more.

Now there you were, the once cold glass turned lukewarm and unable to stand still as the world spinned. You pushed yourself from the bar’s stool and your brain almost fell out, blurry vision trying to make out the exit to either pass out in the elevator or in your home’s living room carpet. You hoped, not wanting to come up with an excuse as to why a neighbor's kid found a woman in the elevator, smelling of alcohol and surrounded by puke. But your traitorous eyes refused to find the door; instead they found a lone gray figure, leaned on a sofa five feet away from you and going through pictures with a smile. Your heavy feet marched towards him on their own, pulled like a magnet with disregard for furniture on the way - you stumbled and knocked chairs down - and for your body -tripping and falling on said furniture - At the end of your painstaken journey with one scraped knee and a broken nail, Wolf looked at you with amusement.

“Wolfie!” You threw yourself by his side with a giggle, the man letting out a ‘hmph!’ as your head hit his chest. “Hi.”

His arm weighted comfortably on your shoulder.

“Hi to you too,” he said. “Someone clearly had fun.”

“Yeah, I ate all the custard tarts.” The creamy sweetness still lingered on the back of your throat, even after the mojitos. “But I wanted more, they’re gone so fast. I blinked and puff! No more custard tarts! Gone… I wanted more.”

His large clawed hand reached for your face, wiping the hair away from it and showing custard cream in his fingertips, you wanted to lick it off to savor the godsend taste one more time, like an sweethoot addict, but Wolf whipped the cream away before you could.

“Tragedy of life, you don’t always get what you want.” Wolf pointed his head at the bar. “So you drank your sorrows away?”

“Yeah… like…” You counted on your fingers. “Probably more than six strawberry mojitos. I lost count.”

On the small round table in front of the sofa sat a half filled glass of said drink, ice already melted and probably tasting more of water and rum than strawberry. Who knows whose mouth was in that glass.

Before your half asleep brain stopped your hand, you downed the drink. Your nose scrunched, tasted as shitty as you thought.

“Hey, that was”- Wolf said, looking at you and at the empty glass. “... Nevermind.” “Strawberry tastes good.”

“Sure does.”

“Custard tarts are better though.”

You glanced over to his hand, leaning further on his chest to see what he held, his heartbeat quick and short over the white cotton shirt.

“What’s that?”

Wolf’s chuckle reverberated through his chest, the hairs in your neck rising with the motion.

“Tonight’s highlights.”

He flashed the polaroid pictures to you like a deck of cards, forever immortalized in them were Diane’s and Piranha wrestling match, Weebs ruling the dance floor with her tarantula exclusive moves while Shark did the vogue on the background, and Snake pulling the most random drinks from the bar and mixing them with a professional bartender’s confidence. The last picture was of you, pouting at the empty tart’s plate while Wolf smiled like a bastard and the last one to the camera.

You gasped, hitting him lightly in the chest. The utter betrayal!

“You jerk. Evil, evil jerk,” you said.

“C’mon, I only took one! The other twenty four were all you.”

“Hmm… fine. I guess it’s fair.” You said, but the pain of letting one single sweet sleep away lingered. “Are you putting those on the fridge?”

“Only the least comprasing ones. Don’t want police or news barging into my place and finding out dear governor over there passed out drunk in orange soda.” Wolf put the pictures in his coat pocket. “The others are going in the bedroom drawer.”

“Ah, blackmail material.” You smiled.

Wolf placed one hand over his chest and looked down at you with believable offense.

“Now, that wouldn't be very nice of me, would it?” He opened that grin that made your legs weak. Changed for the better or not, the ‘bastard grin’ always suited him. “If these things end up in a golden frame, and, by complete chance, annoy the living hell out of the guys, it will be a complete accident.”

Face buried in the fluff of his neck, you laughed amidst a hiccup.

“You’re so mean,” you said.

In this position, you could smell the subtle cologne on his fur, it was like a walk in a pine forest after rain mixed with rum. You felt it before, burned into your mind from the first time you met, a reminder from everytime you sat close to each other and he leaned in to whisper a witty remark about the current situation, or when he asked you to dance, held you close, and the pressure of his hands lingered on your waist after they left, as much as you wished they stayed longer. Pine grew to be one of your favorite smells. Before you knew it, your tights squeezed against each other.

The softness brushed your cheek, an invitation to lay on it. Any other day, a sober day, you would've slapped yourself for the pathetic neediness. Wolf was your friend, even if he set your body ablaze with just a look, you would like to keep him as your dear friend. Any sober day you would pull away and ignore the heat forming in your core before it rose to your brain and deemed it useless, freeing you to make stupid decisions… Today was no sober day, and the mojitos in your bloodstream were highly flammable.

You caved and laid in fur silkier than expensive bed sheets, more comfortable than your own bed, even with his neck and shoulder tensed up. Your clenched hand on his chest felt his heartbeat stop for a second and come back faster than you could count. Wolf squeezed your arm, tail wagging against the sofa cushions with muffed thuds.

“You’re fluffy.” You snuggled further into him. “Smells good.”

“The wonders of conditioner.”

“Hmm…”

Both your hands ran over his chest grabbing the suit’s collar, pulling closer. You moved your leg across his shut together ones. His hands firmly held your waist in place, preventing you from sinking into his lap.

“Moe…” You moaned.

Wolf dragged a sharp breath, stern gaze on you.

“You’re drunk.”

“So are you.”

“Okay, but you’re drunker.”

You rolled your eyes, snaking your hands to tangle around his neck.

“I’m not that out of it, Wolf.”

He glanced over your shoulder, skepticism plastered on his handsome face. You followed to find the chairs, little tables and sofas you stumbled on to get to him, one of the chairs knocked over all the way to the pool. Shame heated your cheeks.

“Listen - Listen!” You ignored his smug look and pulled his neck closer to you. “Even if I was sober, I would still want to bang you.”

Wolf looked as if someone poured ice down his neck, half lidded eyes growing to the size of dessert plates, his claws dug into your waist, making your back arch.

He said your name as a warning.

“You’re my buddy,” he said. “So for your own sake, I’m asking you to stop talking.”

“But it’s true!” You giggled at the utmost unholy scenarios forming in your head. “If we go back to my place right now we can fuck in the shower.”

“Oh, okay. You’re still talking.” He shut his eyes and threw his head back on the sofa.

“No, no, I can’t sleep with wet hair. Uh… the kitchen counter then-”

“Listen to me, hang over and regret don’t go well together!”

“Oh! You could pin me against the window and when people look up-”

You fell on your butt as his hands let go of your waist to cover your mouth. Wolf didn’t look at you, and only spoke after too many seconds of silence.

“I need another drink.”

He held your shoulders and laid you on your side, face smushed on the cushion, and went straight to the bar.

“Gimme one too,” you said, leaning on your elbow to have a better look at him.

“No,” He pulled a whisky glass from the counter, filling it up with a blue drink you didn’t recognize. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t remember anything after your sixth drink, this would just be extra migraine on you.” He downed his drink in one shot, wiping his mouth with the suit sleeve. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Wolf came back and pulled you up by the hand. Your knees gave in the moment weight was put on them, your legs useless wet noodles. He threw one of your arms over his shoulder and one hand supported your waist.

“Nooo,” you struggled out of his grasp, almost kissing the floor before he caught you. “Take Shark first!” You pointed at poor, unmoving Shark, face first in the pool and surrounded by empty push-pops with no sign of air bubbles on the water. “He’s gonna drown!”

A smile formed on the corners of his mouth.

“I’m sure Shark will be fine. These two on the other hand…” He gestured with his head to the floor, where Diane and Piranha laid over orange soda. “Hope her insurance covers a massage plan.”

The walk was a blur until you two reached the elevator; Wolf now and again pulled your slipping body upwards, jolting you awake. Sleep crawled into you, made your eyes sting and fill with water the longer you kept them open. You yawned and tried to focus on anything to keep you awake until Wolf got your drunk ass to the apartament, but in a dark elevator, you could either look at a panel changing numbers or him. Obvious choice, these numbers could be Calvin Klein models and you still would look at him.

He frowned at the metal door, body slouched by your weight and visible tiredness. His mouth pulled downwards, the same it did when he struggled with a harsh decision during field work, his suit was wrinkled and the first button on his shirt popped off; perhaps you pulled a little too hard on it. Ruffled up fur marked where your hands had been. Messy, tired and worried. How was it fair that he looked beautiful even with all of that?

“Wolfie…” you said. When Wolf turned his head to look at you, you booped his snout. “Hehe. I love you.”

Your knees hit the carpet floor before Wolf managed to scramble to catch you, sharp pain on the already scraped one. Who’s idea was to invent rough carpets in a world where gravity exists? Sadistic monsters! You yelped when he pulled you back up by the forearm.

“Sorry, sorry!” He said.

Something fluffy repeatedly hit the back of your legs, his tail wagging violently. Wolf let go of your waist and grabbed the thing like he meant to choke it.

“I’m sorry.”

Between the chokehold on his tail and panic on his face, for the first time tonight, you felt as if you’d done something wrong. Your conscience woke up to kick you in the shin and curse your idiocy. You just confessed to the man you loved drunk out of your senses in an elevator, while he had to carry your sluggish body home.

The shame was enough to slightly sober you up and fight the overwhelming sleepiness. You had to salvage this in any possible way.

“I mean it, Moe.” You said. “I love you.”

The last thing you heard was the elevator beep before sleep took over.

May death take you out of pity. Let your prayers be answered and God will open the ground to swallow you whole.

You could deal with the nausea and crippling migraines, hell, you would double the pain if it meant a distraction from sheer embarrassment. Which one was worse? Saying a drunken ‘I love you’ in the elevator without a single hint that you liked him beforehand, or shamelessly offer to have sex when the most physicall contact you ever had was a hug?

I love you. The words haunted you.

I love you. I love you.

Diane would have to excuse your absence from work, you needed a week alone to sulk, living on type water and custard tarts deliveries. Not the fancy ones, no, the cheap, factory produced tards; you didn’t deserve homemade sweets after such humiliation.

Headache took the focus away from your self pity as someone knocked on the door. If it was a complaint about yesterday's loudness, the poor soul who disturbed your misery was in for a face off with the devil.

Another fucking knock.

“Coming.” You kicked off the blanket and used the couch as support to get on your feet.

You dragged yourself across the living room, not bothering properly opening your eyes and swinging the door open.

“What?” You said, ready to bite off a head.

“Someone’s in a good mood today.”

Your eyes shot open - you held the door handle to not lose your balance.

“Wolf.”

“Yes, last time I checked.”

He stood there with a bag with green bottles and some painkiller boxes in hand. Light blue buttoned up shirt and one hand on the navy pants pocket, trademark grin spread across a clean face. He looked way too well.

“Passing by to check on everyone. You should’ve seen Diane, her fur was all sticky from the soda.” He reached on the bag and handed you a bottle and pills. “I got you some green juice, the very nasty one; good for a hangover. And some strong painkillers.”

“Oh…” Your hand robotically grabbed them. Wolf was in front of you, the man you asked to bang, offering a green juice bottle. I love you. You shoved the memory away. “... Thanks.”

Letting go of the handle, your feet stumbled backwards, head too heavy to stay in place. Wolf’s gentle hand steadied your back and the other held your elbow.

“Easy there.” He kicked the door shut and guided you to the couch, taking the green juice and handling it uncapped with a painkiller pill. “Here, if you drink it fast it doesn’t taste as bad.”

You stared at Wolf, at the bottle, and back at him, mouth agape as if words wanted to come out. His casual smile twisted your stomach. How could he look so normal after everything you said? After what you’ve done?

I love you.

Wolf sighed.

“Okay, that was a lie, it tastes awful anyways.”

Your chest tightened. Him not remembering last night was impossible, being much more sober than you. Yet he acted as any other casual sunday; pretending nothing happened. You couldn’t look away, trying to see if his face gave away deeper feelings; a different twinkle in his eye, an ear twitch, anything that differentiated this Wolf from the Wolf you didn’t offer yourself to.

His smile dropped.

“I can get you water and a salad if the juice is too disgusting,” he said.

You let out an incredulous laugh, steering your eyes away from him. Nothing. Nothing at all. Maybe he was pretending to not embarrass you to death, maybe he hoped you forgot all about it as he said you would.

Before the knot on your throat tightened, you snatched the pill and green juice, drinking more than half of it in one go, plastic bottle cracking with your grip. You pressed it to your forehead, eyes squeezed shut, and curled into yourself. You should be grateful, he got you home and pulled a blanket over you; He came to check on your pathetic state, brought medicine and healthy drinks; He did the favor of embarrassing you. Wolf did nothing but be a good friend, you were being such a baby. You should be grateful, and say thank you like a polite adult.

Say thank you, just open your mouth and thank him. Say thank you.

I love you.

Shit, you fucked up.

Wolf’s hand touched your shoulder and you jumped. He looked at you with worry. You opened your mouth but not a beep came out. With an apologetic smile you left the couch and made your way to the kitchen sink, opening it and splashing cold water on your hot face. This was easier when alcohol blocked your basic self preservation. For so long you kept your feelings to yourself, ignored the want to hold his hand, kiss him. Keep to yourself the praises that didn’t relate to his genius planning abilities; like how beautiful he looked in a particular well-fitting disguise; how you melted when he held Mr. Cat like a precious baby, and how talking to him lightened up your day after it started with stubbing your pinky on the bedside table and a coffee stain on your outfit. All the things you lacked the guts to say and do, spilled out in one night in the worst possible way. You had to do better than this. Put on your big girl pants, face your feelings. Wolf was there, he was right there staring at you from your couch. Drunk you couldn't be braver than sober you.

You clenched the sink’s edge and took a deep breath as if it could fill you with courage instead of air.

“I meant what I said last night, Moe,” you said. “And I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. So don’t… don’t pretend it didn’t.”

Water drops falling from your face into the metal of the sink never echoed so loud, other than that, your heart beating on your ears was the only sound in the apartament. Your guts twisted.

“Please say something.” you said.

“You were very drunk.” Wolf finally spoke. “I… tried not to think much about it. I didn’t know if you would even remember last night, much less that you really meant any of that.”

“I did.”

You turned on the sink to face him, Wolf leaned on the back of your couch in a similar position to yours, holding onto to it, one leg crossed over the other, his bashful face made you much more relieved.

“It was one of those ‘alcohol in, truth out’ situations,” you said.

Wolf pushed himself from the couch, walking towards you, each step made your heart beat faster. You fought the heat rising to your face when he looked down to you, hot air from him warming the curve of your nose.

“How long have you…” He slid a hand down his neck. “... You know.”

“Almost two years by now.”

His ears perked up, small grim on his agape mouth.

“Two years?”

“Almost two years.”

Wolf squinted, one of his years flipped down.

“I was in jail at that time.”

“Yeah, and I missed you.” You looked down, your hands tugging your shirt suddenly very interesting. “Way more than a friend misses a friend.”

Although you missed all of your friends in the year they’re locked up, after a phone call, the heartache subsided; you heard their voices, reassured they’d be fine, knowing you’d get to see them soon. With Wolf, all that phone calls did was remind you he wasn’t there. Simple things you paid no mind to turned melancholic; Bitter coffee without a ‘good morning’ and raised a mug while he read the journal, fishing articles about The Bad Guys to share with the crew. Going for a walk around pine trees tightened your throat, because the smell was so much like his; You only realized how affectionate he was by going touch starved for an entire year. A muffled voice over jail’s shitty phone wasn't enough.

“The day you’re released, Diane asked if I wanted to get you guys home,” you said. “But I still needed time to figure this out. And when I did I couldn’t look you in the eye without wanting to bury my head on the sidewalk.”

“Wait a second,” Wolf said, way too amused. “Is that why we didn’t see you for a month? You said your grandma needed support because her dog died.”

“I know, I lied!” You buried your face in your hands. “I’m a terrible person, my grandma doesn’t even have a dog.” You dragged your hands through your face and looked up at Wolf. “You’re not supposed to find out like this, I’m sorry, Wolf.”

“Hey, it’s fine. Don’t beat yourself over it.”

“I confessed to you in an elevator while you literally dragged my drunk butt.”

He smiled.

“It wasn’t the most embarrassing thing you did last night.”

“Oh, god.” You shrunken on yourself, hiding your face. Sadly, it didn’t make you disappear. “Kill me, have mercy and kill me right now.” You shrunk even more when Wolf laughed.

As you repeated your death wish prayers, Wolf’s hands took yours, peeling them off your face, not a glimpse of mockery on his eyes, but a look you only ever imagined he would give you.

“Did you mean to do that as well?” His big hand ghosted over your check. “It’s fine if you didn’t, I just wanna know.”

Your bones all melted, lucky you’re getting quite good at standing on weak knees. He was so close, his scent invading your senses and messing with your brain. Body pulling into his, you hold on the sink tightened so much you thought it was going to crack. Stupid as your actions were, the drinks did nothing but feed the already existing flame. You wanted him, craved the intentional touch that came from a place of passion instead of friendship.

You leaned into the hand on your cheek.

“Yeah,” you said.

Wolf’s cold nose brushed against the overheated skin on your face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Letting go of the sink, you placed your hands on his chest. “I did.”

Inches apart, you closed your eyes and tilted your head.

Sparks flew when his lips touched yours. So very sweet and gentle, Wolf pulled your face closer, claws tangling with your bird’s nest of a hair. You ran your hands up the velvety shirt, his accelerated pulse not going unnoticed when you reached his ruffled neck. Your checks began to hurt and you realized you’ve been smiling through the kiss.

You panted when he let go of you; not for lack of air, but a worthless attempt from your body to cool itself down. Gushes of air couldn’t put down the blaze within you. You kissed. You kissed the man you’ve been in love with for too long, and it felt better than you could ever imagine because it was real and you didn’t sink in guilt once the pining fantasy was over. You kissed, and by the blissful way he looked at you and how his tail cut the air with the wagging, you’re safe to assume he felt the same.

“Now that the mojitos are out of the picture,” Wolf said. “How much of last night do you still mean right now?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pink fog blurred your surroundings and your body grew too hot for your clothes.

“All of it,” you whispered against his lips.

Wolf gripped your waist and pulled you up on the kitchen counter, legs spread to accommodate him between them, sealing his mouth to yours again. When his tongue brushed against your lips, you parteted them with pleasure; his to explore as he wished, and good grace, he did. Slow and deep, fervor followed from your tongue to your sex. Wolf squeezed your waist and you gripped the back of his shirt, back arched as well as every hair on your body.

He let go of your mouth, hot breath now on your neck, whoever, no pressure from his teeth. He stared, conflicted, you assumed by his knitted eyebrows. With a maw filled with piercing teeth, you understood why, and should be at least a little scared, yet no fear crept to you. How could it when he made you feel so secure?

You exposed your neck to him and caressed his back. A contempt sigh brushed your skin, followed by a velvet tongue and a soft nibble.

“Moe…” you moaned, legs locked around his waist.

He hummed against you and pulled your hips closer, your body whimpered when Wolf grinded against you. You held to him as if your life depended on it, rational brain melted into aphrodisiac mush as one single thought remained: Fuck me.

“Fuck…” You squeezed him between your legs.

“That’s the idea,” His hand slid up your shirt.

And that’s when you remembered. You’re on the kitchen counter.

“Wait, wait-” you said. His hand froze in place and you catched half lidded eyes growing three times in size. “My bedroom.”

Any pity you might have felt for scaring the hornyness out of him fell in its face when he gave you the bastard grin.

“Ah,” Wolf tapped the corner of his mouth. “You know, I recall someone saying I could do her anywhere.”

Ice water poured over the fire in your loins.

“Oh no.” You groaned into your hands.

“In the shower, the kitchen counter-”

“Stop Talking.”

“Even against the window. That was a surprising one.”

“Shut up, shut up! It wasn’t me talking, it was the mojitos.”

“Allow me to paraphrase then.” Wolf took your hands off his face, and you never wanted to smack him more than now. “It was one of those ‘alcohol in, truth out situations’.”

If you weren’t head over hills for the asshole, you'd put back your hills to kick him out in a literal, painful sense. Since that wasn’t a viable option, you put on your best displeased face and stare him dead in the eye.

“Keep talking and I will blue ball you.”

His smile dropped.

“So is your bedroom the door to the left?”

Wolf had his hand on the small of your back, soft kisses on your shoulders and neck during the short hallway walk kept your insides fuzzy. You opened the door to the white bedroom, noon sun filtered by the semi sheer curtains in your favorite color, matching the still tidy queen sized bed sheets. Presentable enough, even if Wolf knew how much of a mess you could make, a wrinkled bed and clothes scattered on the floor didn’t set the best romantic mood.

You sat on your bed with a bounce, hands stretched for Wolf. He sunk into you, deep kiss and fingers on your hair, he laid you on the pillows, pulling one strand out of your face.

“Aren’t you pretty?” he said, gazing at your mascara stained face and possibly blood shot eyes.

“You’re one to talk.”

Wolf quirked his head.

“Am I now?” he said, amused.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know how hot you are.”

“Can you believe that I don’t? Mind telling me?” You rolled your eyes with a chuckle. Oh the dangers of stroking this man’s inflated ego. You supported yourself on your elbows and cleaned your throat, one dramatic hand over your chest.

“Mr. Wolf, you’re painfully handsome, hotter than the sun, and I could stare at you for longer than any pretentious art piece.” You smiled, proud of your little act. “Happy?”

You expected a chuckle, a playfully annoyed look, but your heart fluttered with the genuine delight in his face. Oh, he liked that. Good to know.

Wolf shook his head, snapping out of the awestruck look.

“Yeah, that was…” he said. “Good enough description, nice delivery. Gonna take it.”

Your hands held each side of his face, thumb stroking it gently. How could he look more bashful now then when you flirted with him?

“You are really handsome, you know.”

He leaned in your palms, snuggling in them, you were sure he was going to melt in your hands.

“My pretty girl.” He kissed your wrist.

‘My’, your head became light. ‘My’, he said.

He kissed you with fervor, hand roaming from your lower leg to your tight, and up the naked skin under your shirt, tickling your stomach. He slowed down at the curve of your waist, the oh so light claws against it sending goosebumps up and down your torso, shirt lifted along the way. Waltzing to your back, he did quick work unclasping your bra, tension leaving your shoulders and overnight restrained breasts. You lifted your arms as he took off your shirt and bra together and tossed them away. You held your breath as he stared at your chest; shameless, Wolf gave your right breast a soft squeeze. You gasped, face much ablaze in a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. Your heartbeat shook you from head to toe, and Wolf’s hand on your chest might just feel it; hell he might just hear it, so dramatically loud.

He lowered his muzzle to the top of your head to place a kiss, his covered chest in reachable distance, the pretty fancy shirt blocked the view. You opened the buttons and ran your hand through the light cream fur, never getting tired of how silky he was. Wolf’s shirt soon joined yours in a forgotten corner, you now free to devour him with your eyes, taking in the curves from his lean muscles and hints of ochre mixed with the warm gray of his fur. Where your hands had been left ruffled up marks; you itched to do so in all visible places, ruffle every little hair, front and back, a reminder of where he let you touch him.

He squeezed your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples; you pulled his chest fur, a breathy moan on the back of your throat escaping when his wet tongue touched the sensitive bud, circling around it before taking into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck…” You squeezed his shoulders, grip tightened when Wolf hummed around you.

His hand massaged and sparsely pinched your other breast. Uneven breath, you tried to control yourself, nails digging a little too hard on his shoulder - You didn’t want to claw him, not when he’d been so careful with you, but oh, how hard it was to control your squirming body, needy for more and unable to steady itself.

Wolf let go of your breasts. You contained a pitiful whine and he chuckled at your pout.

“Like that, sweetheart?”

Your heart leaped. ‘Sweetheart’.

“Yeah, you did so well ” you praised, receiving a similar delighted look on his face. “Felt really good.”

Fur on his cheeks ruffled up, he tugged at your pants waistband, sliding it down your hip bone.

“Gonna make you feel even better, pretty girl.”

Your hips jolted up, hot antecipation between your legs, where you wanted him in so bad, so, so ready to be fucked out of your mind.

“Please do.”

Your pants out of the way, he traced kisses from your jaw down to your stomach; cherishing the sensation, you eagerly waited for the sound of an unbuckling belt, arousal so intense it started to turn painful. But Wolf kept kissing down, lower, lower, his lips brushing the inner of your tights. You yelped when he muzzled your clothed clit, hot air against your soaked panties. You would wind up crazy by the end of this.

“Moe, please,” you breathed out, hips bucking forward. “Please, touch me.”

“No need to ask, sweetheart.” His claws slid down your panties - you couldn't get rid of them fast enough.

You caught his mouth watering, looking at you as if your smell made him drunk.

Wolf’s tongue dragging a line along your heat, savoring your taste with licks and wet kisses. You choked into your moan, gripping his head and pulling as if his mouth could get any closer. You clenched around nothing, excruciating in your own greedy pleasure, because there was no way in the world he could put his fingers inside of you. Oh, but you’re wrong. As if he read your mind, Wolf pushed his tongue inside you, ripping a pornographic moan from your throat, as he rubbed your clit up and down. if he kept on like that, the knocks growing tighter on your belly would come undone in his mouth. The image melted you like lava.

Still, you wanted more. It would be so easy to let yourself go, turn into a quivering mess and let him pleasure you for as long as your body would take - which wasn’t for much longer, regardless. But you craved something different; not a skilled mouth and divine fingers - him. So deep inside you, making you forget where your body ended and his started. You wanted to feel Wolf entirely, and for him to feel you as well. Him - you needed him.

Gentle and firm, you pulled his head away, maw glistened with your sinful fluids.

“You’re okay?” he said, worry in his eyes.

“Fuck me.” You sounded desperate to your own ears. His claws sunk in your tights. “I want you, Moe, I want you so bad, fuck me.”

He stared at you in awe, letting out a shaky breath. Something shifted in the air, even if for a brief moment, before Wolf got himself out of trance, you swore he stared at you like a starved predator. He stood on his knees, unbuckled belt revealing a clear voluptuous outline on his black underwear.

“No little hearts this time?” You raised a brow with a smile.

He laughed, a deeper sound than usual.

“Ditched those a while ago.”

His bothersome underwear out of the way, a red, generous erection greeted you, glistering raw shade and leaking pre cum made your mouth water and rub your tights. Wolf crowned on top of you, holding one side of your waist, light kisses scattered over your face and neck. You scratched behind his left ear, earning a contempt sigh he leaned in your hand. Hot and adorable, he felt too good to be real, as if at any moment you’d wake up with a crippling headache on the floor. Yet it was reality, yours to touch, and shamelessly feel, and it was so good; He had been so good to you, got you shivering in lust, bubbling with joy, he was such a-

Amid sweet touches, a light switched on in your head.

“Good boy,” you cooed.

Wolf went stiff. Claws tore the bed sheets - sinking in the mattress. The familiar wag of his tail brushed your lower legs.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, face hidden in your neck.

“You like that, Wolfie?”

He nodded with a whine. A once feared wanted criminal, feared by many due to his sheer size and sharpness, heist mastermind, completely melted with praises; and yet it made so much sense, of course he would like it. You would call him adorable to his face if not for it taking a blow to his ego; Maybe another time.

“My good boy.” You cupped his flushed face out of hiding and rubbed his cheeks. “You’re doing so well, taking such good care of me.”

His hips rolled against you with a choked groan, spams running through you like lighting.

“Look what you do to me, sweetheart.”

“Should do it more often.”

“Oh, I agree.” He repeated the motion. “Wouldn't mind squeezing it on my daily schedule.”

Your heavy eyelids shot open.

“Daily?”

“Why not?”

“Because I like walking!”

“Awn.” Wolf placed one hand over his chest. “You flatter me.”

You playfully slapped his arm, giggling together, one relaxed moment before boiling anticipation.

Wold align himself with your warmth, the simple pressure made you whimper; legs wrapping around his waist.

“Ready?”he said.

“Yes.”

Careful and slow, he pushed in. Your wet core accommodated each inch with relative ease - blazing ache replaced by relief, the sparks from your previous edged orgasm making your toes curl and head lean back.

“Fuck… you’re good?” Wolf panted, whole of length buried inside you.

Oh, just ‘good’ wasn’t enough, you’re fucking wonderful, fantastic, filled to the abslute brim in a way that fogged your mind.Wolf hissed when you clenched around him.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You held onto his back and pulled him for a messy kiss. “Move for me?” you said, voice covered in honey.

A handful of your tight and the other leaned on the mattress, Wolf slid himself out and sunk back in, making you see stars. Your needy sounds filling the room with each thrust on a steady pace- he reached deep inside you, fucked your sanity away so good that you didn’t miss the ability to think for a second. He squeezed the plump of your ass; sucked and nibbled wherever his mouth would reach. Pine forest cologne mixed the smell of sex in the hot bedroom.

“Fuck, Moe- that’s it. Don’t stop… Fuck … just like this” you mewled, tension building on your muscles. “Good boy, good boy-”

His pace turned wild the moment praise left your lips. You cried in pleasure, nails digging on his back.

“Shit, sweetheart… Not going to last like this.”

Oh, yes, yes yes! Fuck, yes. You’re so cock drunk you didn’t want anything more than for him to make a mess inside of you.

His hand found your clit, circling sloppy rubs; you all but screamed, clawing his back.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Good boy, good boy- Fuck!”

Your legs squeezed and pulled him close enough to immobilize his hips, making him grind inside you. Wolf pulled one of your hands tearing at his back, tangling your fingers together, a couple more seconds of him buried inside you and more rubs on your overstimulated clit for you to roll back your eyes and come undone. It didn't take long for Wolf to follow suit, shallow grinds through your intense orgasm before thrusting deep. He reached his high with a reverberating growl.

Through your blissed out state you tried to catch your breath, muscles shivering, Wolf’s hand clenching and unclenching yours.

Coherent thought began its way back to you, pants becoming steady breaths, legs sliding down and hands stuck in a claw position, off Wolf’s mistreated back. He winced.

“Sorry…” You said.

“It’s fine.”

With a tired smile, he pulled out of you, Softly nuzzling your cheek and kissing on the bridge of your nose. You reciprocated with a peck on his muzzle, embracing him and his warmth that covered you better than a fluffy blanket. He laid by your side and you snuggled in his chest, ear on his heartbeat. Wolf’s hands steadied your fluttery state, rubbing circles on your lower back.

“You’re okay?” He said.

“Uhum, I’m great. Actually…” You played with his chest fur. “I might add this to my daily schedule.”

“That good, huh?”

You felt his ego inflate and take up the whole room.

“As expected from such a good boy.”

Said ego blew back on his face. He winched.

“Yeah, about that. Let’s keep it between us, alright?”

“Relax, Moe. I won’t embarrass you in front of the others.”

He sighed.

“Thank you.”

“... Good boy.”

Wolf hissed, head buried in your hair. You failed holding back chuckles.

“Sorry, sorry.” You said, kissing his chest. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

Moe snuggled his chin over your head. You closed your eyes and caved to the comfort that was him and your bed, sun warming your naked body through the curtains, outside world muted. Diane could call and say somebody stole the moon, you still would not leave this little piece of heaven.

Your hungry stomach, however, was not Diane, and took now out of all times to complain that it only had a green juice today.

You sat up, away Wolf’s grasp, feeling like a monster when he looked at you like a lost and kicked puppy.

“Don’t give that look.” Your shoulder blades popped with a nice stretch. “I’m just hungry.”

“Oh?” He immediately sifted to his trademark smile and sat up as well. “Let’s go out then.”

Go out? You’re planning on eating leftovers and staying in bed with him all day! Maybe gatter the willpower to clean yourself, but that was a big maybe.

“What? Right now? Moe, I’m sweaty and-” You held back before saying ‘sticky’ “- a mess.”

“Come on, we can get brunch at that bistro you like, my treat.” He put in his pants and searched for the lost shirt.

Now that he mentioned, that place had your favorite dish.

“Can we get custard tarts?”

“All the custard tarts you can eat, sweetheart.” He buttoned up his shirt, waiting for your answer.

Well, it was a better option than getting who-knows-what collecting frost in your fridge, and a shower sounded nice.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

“It’s a date,” Wolf said, kissing your heated check. “I’ll get the wallet and wait in the car.” He opened the door, but raised his finger before walking out. “I almost forgot.” He turned on his heel and winked at you. “Love you too, pretty girl.”

Wolf left you alone. Five minutes already gone by when you stepped in the shower, because that’s how long it took you to stop gushing like a teenager.

#mr wolf x reader #the bad guys 2022 #the bad guys #the bad guys x reader #mr wolf #mr. wolf #moe wolf #mr wolf x you

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