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#the whole thing is incredibly self indulgent

wraithsoutlaws · 6 months

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you know i had a fun little vp idea i wanted to do for the cyberpunk anniversary but i haven't had the energy to even touch it recently so i'll just settle with saying that this game impacted me in ways i never thought it would when i first picked it up 3 years ago. i knew i would enjoy it, i had been looking forward to it for a long time, and despite a ~controversial~ launch, i had a fucking blast from day 1 (on ps4 no less). regardless of bugs and memes and public dunking, the story grabbed me like nothing else could at the time, and it reignited so much of my passion and motivation for art that i had lost in the clutches of mental illness and i'll always be grateful for that. it introduced me to so many wonderful people (some whom i carry very close to my heart), and maybe most personally surprising, it gave me an outlet to understand parts of myself that i had been too afraid to acknowledge for a long time, the courage to accept and embrace myself as non-binary, and allow myself to just BE without trying to convince myself i'm crazy. that's not what i expected from the get-go but it's been a really fun journey to be on ngl

#yeah this fandom been a little rocky in places but i would be lying if i said this community here wasn't special to me #so much love and passion and creativity to be around and be inspired by #so many people who have been impacted by this silly little heartwrenching game #devs who have poured their heart into it to deliver something genuinely incredible #its one of those strange things that really did fully change the trajectory of this little leg of my life #to think that until 3 years ago i hadn't even touched art in a decade #now there are lovely people who want to spend money on my work #3 years ago i bought my first (and only) refurbished ps4 to play this game and now im sitting on a fancy gaming laptop #ive said it before but vp has been such an important creative outlet too #its allowed me to live my dreams of being a film director. a cinematographer. a writer.#the whole game has let me be so damn self-indulgent sometimes i feel like a kid again just unashamedly playing barbie #finding the JOY of just. creating.#i learned so much about myself through an OC because of this game #it went from 'huh what is this feeling? gender envy?' to being like full blown 'oh yea. i get it now.' so much of my life makes sense kfslf #and i met people who mean the world to me on top of it all #woof anyways #i know i say it a lot but genuinely thank u to yall who have encouraged me and supported me and who enjoy the things that i make #youve made such a difference in my life without knowing it!

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kscribbs · 8 months

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Miller's Law Snippets

Snip 1 💤

And so she stayed like that. One arm curled around his torso, face nestled into the narrow space between his shoulder blades. — A protective barrier, shielding him from the darkness of his own mind.

Whenever she sensed that he might be submitting to it again she’d move their conjoined hands to his chest/heart, trying to imbue as much warmth and comfort and… well, love, as possible. Willing his heart-rate to return to a normal rhythm. And she'd speak to him. Using the same soft, consoling timbre she reserved for anxious patients. It seemed to work, for he’d soon grow still again, drifting back into what she hoped were pleasant, happy dreams. Dreams of things and people and places he loved. The rose garden at Frost Manor. His favourite memories with Jacqueline and the Twins. Endless games of Elemental Ball…

He was fully-thawed now, but his fingers remained icy, frost creeping from his palms, across the counterpane, and after awhile Lucy’s own fingers began to ache and burn. But still, she didn’t let go. She stayed there for hours. Hours upon hours, watching dawn crack over the horizon like a robin's egg, spilling its golden light across the Canton de Bern. Watching the sky shift from pale blue to silver-grey and snow begin to drift down in large, fluffy flakes. Watching morning bleed into afternoon, and afternoon into evening, and night settle into all the room’s nooks and recesses like the ink in the creases of her palms.

Still, she didn’t let go.

Eventually the clouds cleared, and the sky stretched before her as a great, glittering vault. The silver river of the Milky Way was so much more vivid out here. She never saw this many stars in New York.

And Jack stayed sleeping, snoring softly, stirring minimally, his hand tightening in hers, every so often, the odd murmur drifting from his lips. Sometimes they were unintelligible. Other times she could make out certain words. Names, more oft than not. His mother’s. Jacqueline’s. Even her own, on one occasion.

She was overexerting herself, she knew. Using her powers to excess. He was going to be cross with her, when he did wake. Chide her, lecture her. But she hardly cared. She would make sure he got the rest he’d been so sorely deprived of if it killed her.

How long had he been suffering like this? she asked herself, again and again. He’d said they came in cycles, but how long had they been this severe? And how bad of a doctor — a friend, moreover — was she, for not having uncovered the truth sooner?

After a full twenty-four hours she was forced to get up to use the washroom, as well as grab something to eat and drink, all of which she did as swiftly as possible, before returning to his side (his other side now, seeing as he was one of those people who tended to gravitate, catlike, towards the centre of the bed) with her laptop in tow. He had begun to look a little strained in her absence, so she carded her fingers through his hair, pressed a kiss to the groove between his brows. And that seemed to do the trick.

She put on Season One of Gilmore Girls, keeping the volume low, and settled in for another long shift.

The room was well-lit and warm now, a fire crackling merrily in the hearth, and Lucy couldn’t help muse that, amidst all the grief and the horror — the gaping, cavernous knowledge of her own infirmity -- she felt… oddly at peace. Like they were living in a kind of vacuum, away from the rest of the world. A perfect, snow-capped bell jar.

It helped, she supposed, that Gstaad had a real fairytale feel to it. Like something out of a Hans Christian Andersen story.

Finally, around fifty-three hours after he’d first fallen asleep, and while she was almost-but-not-quite drifting off to Monty Python and The Holy Grail (a favourite of his), she felt a groggy chuckle reverberate against her left side, and glanced up to find him grinning at the screen. His hair was a complete mess, thanks to her ministrations; making him look a bit like a lion coming into its mane.

‘I love the Pythons,’ he said, huskily.

‘I know.’

‘Most people don’t know why they named it “Monty Python”. It was because they thought it sounded like a really bad theatrical agent. Did you know that?’

‘I didn't,' Lucy said fondly, angling the laptop more towards him. ‘Good Fact. I'll remember it for next time I see dad.'

He sat up a bit, rubbing his eyes with the hand that wasn’t connected to hers. A little colour rose in his face, when he took notice of the fact, but he didn't let go. Quite the contrary, actually -- he gave it a gentle squeeze, running his thumb over her knuckles.

‘Mmgh. Jeez. My joints are killing me. How long was I out for? Couple hours?’

'Uh... little more than that, actually.'

'How much more?' His fingers trailed over his chin, which was noticeably stubbled. He frowned. 'Wait a minute...'

Snip 2 📱

‘Christ, I know. She’d be beside herself. But there’s very little we can do right now to—’ Melusine was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. ‘…Do you hear— ? …Who’s is that?’

Lucy’s, it transpired; recognisable by its bright pink, flowery case. It lay abandoned on the kitchen table, half buried beneath a tea towel. The contact flashing on the screen made Jack’s skin crawl with dislike.

“Matt (Weird Sevens Guy)”.

‘Oh, he can bugger right off! The rotter,’ Melusine growled, tossing her empty bowl into the sink as if it had just declared itself a close associate of said "rotter"(...?). ‘That’s the LAST thing Luce needs right now. I can’t bleedin’ stand that man, Jack. Always sniffing around her, like a hyena.'

'Yeah, what's up with that? It's like, uh, hello? Get a hobby, maybe? ...Preferably one that involves heavy machinery and very lax safety regulations.'

'Too right. He's trouble, I swear. You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to answer, blow a raspberry down the phone and then hang up.’

‘W-- now, Melusine,’ Jack chided, yanking her back by the hem of her blouse.

‘What? That’s funny!’

‘Funny, sure. But somehow I don’t think Lucy’d thank you for it.’

‘So? She’s not here to nag me about it, is she? And what’s more, she’s not the boss of me. Or you, I hasten to add. …Actually, scratch that.’ She smirked at him. ‘We both know that’s not true. You’d stand in the path of an oncoming train, if she asked you to. Oh wait—’

‘Yeah, yeah—’

‘--You did do that! What a lark.’

‘Hmno. No, no. SHE did that. Charged full tilt towards it, in fact. I just happened to be clinging to the back of her broomstick, at the time.’ Jack shook his head ruefully. ‘It was—’

‘Attractive?’

‘—terrifying.’

‘Terrifyingly attractive. Tell me I’m wrong.’

‘…The woman has a screw loose, is-is what I’m saying.' He cleared his throat. 'Stark raving bonkers, as you Brits would say. And here I’d been under the impression that she was the better adjusted, of the three of us.’

‘Oh come now, you always knew she had a reckless streak.’

‘A reckless streak, yeah. Mm-hm. Totally. The key word there being "streak". What I didn’t know was that she was the second coming of Knievel. Sectionable, by all accoun… what’re you doing…?’

Melusine now had Lucy’s phone in hand, and Jack was concerned to see her typing up what looked like a—

‘Virtual curse,’ she explained, casually. ‘Nothing too serious, of course. Won’t do him any real harm. Just turn a very specific part of his anatomy into an eel. Eheh. See what me makes of th— oi! Give it back!’

‘Are you serious right now?’

‘Look, I know you’ve developed a “conscience”, or whatever, since your thaw,’ she huffed, standing on her tiptoes to try to snatch the phone from his grasp (a difficult feat, given their difference in height). ‘And that’s lovely — bravo. Very happy for you. I, on the other hand, misplaced mine centuries ago and have yet to rediscover it. I suspect it’s buried at the bottom of a sock drawer somewhere, though I really can’t be arsed to look… I’ve therefore ze-ro scruples about giving our mutual nemesis the ol’ what-for.’

‘This has absolutely nothing to do with “conscience or whotever"; I couldn't give less of a shit about what happens to that guy. In fact it would give me no greater pleasure to watch him have to waddle his way to the DMI ward. I'd just rather not end up in Lucy's bad books, as a result. Things are going really well between us right now, if you hadn't noticed? And I'd prefer to keep it that w-- ...don't look at me like that.’

‘Oh, but it’s just so sweet.' Melusine simpered, clasping her hands together kittenishly. 'The Great and Powerful Jack Frost, all… twitterpatery. Never thought I’d see the day!’

‘I’m not— i-it’s not because I—' She raised a sculpted brow at him. 'Look, shut up, okay?! I just can’t afford to lose any more strikes! I only have the one left! And I really don’t wanna find out what happens when I reach naught.’

‘She’ll probably just make you do lines or something. I wouldn’t worry.’

‘Or, she might jinx me! Put me in a full body bind.’

‘Don't act like you wouldn't enjoy it.’ Melusine sent him an arch look, making him flush. ‘But fine. If you're that much of a jessie, I'll take the brunt of any potential Miller ire.’

‘Pfft. As if I’m going to trust that.’

‘It’s the truth!’

‘You’ll have to forgive me for being the slightest bit dubious, given… you know. Every single one of our interactions over the last two centuries.’

At her mulish look Jack sighed, realising that he was fighting a losing battle. Though he truly didn’t want to buy himself a one-way ticket to the dog house, he couldn’t deny that seeing what’shisname (Mason? Murray? ...Sketchy, overly-solicitous guy who didn't come anywhere close to deserving the object of his "affection"?) receive a good cursing was an attractive prospect.

A very attractive prospect.

Hm.

‘Y'know what...? Fine,’ he relented. ‘Whatever. You reap what you sow, Melville. Do as you please, just leave me out of it.’

‘What I’m sowing is chaos, and I have my fingers crossed for a bountiful harvest.’

‘…In that case, an electric eel would be far funnier. Just a thought.’

‘My, my!’ Melusine's brows did the milage to her hairline. ‘Two good ideas in under twenty-four hours. That must be some kind of record! Remind me to mark the occasion in the official "Jack Had an Idea" Excel spreadsheet.’

Jack was just about to respond with his own (far more cutting) witticism when a sleepy voice from the doorway said, ‘Why do you guys look like you’re scheming?’

The two of them jumped, turning to find Lucy standing over the threshold, looking charmingly dishevelled.

While Jack smiled dotingly, all other thoughts fleeing his mind at the sight of her, Melusine, startled by her appearance, grabbed the phone from his hand and lobbed it at the window, which shattered.

There was a moment of confused silence.

‘…Bollocks. Could’ve sworn that was open.’

Snip 3 ⏳

‘What’s the matter?’

And there it was, Lucy thought. The Look. The one that always made her feel like he could see under her skin. The familiarity of it, after all these years, was like a blow to the jugular.

‘N-Nothing, I--’ She drew in a shuddering breath. ‘I’m just... having a bit of a hard day, s’all.’

‘Why?’

‘…I… miss my friend. ...A lot. I haven’t seen him in a long time, you see. A very long time.’

‘Where is he?’ The boy cocked his head curiously, resembling a bird listening for earthworms. ‘Did he die?’

Kids. So forthright.

‘No. No, honey, he didn’t die.’

‘Then why can’t you see him?’

Lucy’s lips twitched.

Hiking up her skirts, she knelt down to his level, studying his narrow face. The same face she mapped out in her mind each night, before she went to sleep, so that she wouldn’t forget. Every line, every furrow. Every repressed spasm or overexertion of emotion.

Piece by piece, the memories settled around her. Like snowfall. -- A worried grimace as he sat at her bedside, holding her hand through what, at the time, had been her worst surge to date. A sleepy grin, as he watched Monty Python over her shoulder, while the world outside faded to white. Deep concentration pulling his features taught as he tinkered at his Steinway. The panicked, pleading look he'd sent her when she left him slaving over a hot stove with her mom and Nana, while she, Charlie and her dad retired to the basement to "assemble furniture" (drink beer and watch the Bears game). Countless looks of gentle reprove, mixed with grudging amusement, whenever she teased him about his eccentricities. The brief flashes of pride and adoration she'd grown increasingly better at catching, in the months preceding her "Jump".

The mingled shock and delight, that afternoon at the cottage, as the heady scent of magnolia drifted in through the window and the rain thundered on the roof. Arguably her favourite memory of him.

...The abject terror, as he lay writhing in pain--

No.

No, that one she would not think of. That one she made a concerted effort to bury, stifle. Locking it away, in the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind.

This face, though… this face was smooth and bright, filled with earnestness of childhood. The lofty bone structure, the crooked nose, the dimpled cheeks. The blue, blue eyes. It was all him. And at the same time, it wasn’t. Not quite. Not yet.

To look into his eyes after all this time and not have him recognise her, even a little bit...? Hurt more than Lucy would've ever thought possible.

‘It’s… it’s complicated, kiddo,’ she said, eventually. ‘Grown-up stuff, y’know?’

‘Well.’ He drew himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest importantly. ‘I don’t wanna brag or nothin’, but I happen to be very mature.’

‘Oh, is that so?’

‘Yep! My teacher said so. Said that I’m the most prec-- prero--'

'Precocious?'

'Reprocious boy in my class. And that's why I find it hard to make friends.'

'You do?' Lucy put a hand over her heart. 'Oh dear.'

His ears turned a little pink, as if he'd disclosed more than he'd intended to.

'N-Not that I care! Why should I? They're all dunderheads anyway. And I'm special. I'm gonna do Big Things when I leave school!'

‘Really now? Golly.'

‘Mm-hm! And then they'll ALL wanna be my friend. But by that point it'll be too late, 'cause I'll be rich and famous and everyone will know how great I am.'

It made so much sense, in hindsight. So much sense. All he'd ever wanted was to be accepted. Understood. Lauded for his intelligence, his studiousness, his unparalleled talents. To make the people he looked up to proud. He'd just gone about it in a totally roundabout way, steered off-course by his wicked old uncle. His deepest insecurities warped into something far more sinister than they would've been otherwise. At his core he was just a troubled little boy, who's enormous capacity for love was being tempered, stifled.

It would be so easy, the thought came to Lucy suddenly. So easy to simply… scoop him up in her arms. Thaw him there and then. The curse wasn’t overly evident yet; not to the untrained eye, anyway. But it was there. Lurking just beneath the surface. His big blue eyes had a near-imperceptible chill to them. His face, though more flushed than that of his adult, frozen self, was nevertheless quite pale. He was a ticking time bomb.

If she diffused that bomb now none of it — none of the pain, the heartbreak, the guilt and the regret — would come to pass. He would have those years his present self mourned so dearly. He would have his family. His sister.

He would be happy.

And oh, how she wanted that for him. For all of them. The zany, ragtag family she'd grown to love so dearly, over the years.

But she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t. She’d been given strict instructions by Father Time. Though it went against her every instinct, she had to let things play out the way they were meant to. The way they already had, for her to be here in the first place.

'Annnnyway, point being: I think I can handle “complicated”. So if you need someone to talk to, I'm your guy.' He grinned at her, all dimples and charm, and Lucy’s heart swelled with affection. She found herself caught between laughter and tears. It seemed inconceivable that her love for him could continue to grow any more than it already had, and yet... grow it did.

It might’ve been easier to believe him, on the "maturity" front, had he not been talking with a subtle, but nevertheless noticeable, lisp — most likely a result of his missing front teeth. To say nothing of the sizeable blob of jam in the corner of his mouth.

‘Even so, lil' man; I wouldn’t wanna bring you down,’ she said, with a gentle smile. ‘Plus, I… I don’t really feel like talking about it right now.’

‘Hm. That's understandable, I s'pose.’ He nodded seriously. ‘Welp. If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure he misses you too. Your friend.’

'You think?’

‘Sure! I mean... you seem like a nice person. I think I’d miss you, if I were him. Or he were me. Or whatever.' A little more colour rose in his face, and he glanced away bashfully, scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe. 'I think... I think I'd be really glad to have a friend like you, actually.'

When he looked up again it was to find silent tears running down her face.

'Oh! Ah… was it… something I said?’

‘No, no, I just… that’s very s-sweet,’ Lucy warbled, dabbing her eyes with the sleeve of her cloak. ‘Thank you.’

In the next moment she found a familiar, embroidered foulard being thrust into her grip. She took it gratefully, letting it sit in her hands for several seconds. The silk was softer than she remembered it being.

‘This is l-lovely. Are you sure you don’t mind me using it?’

‘'Course not.' He waved her off. ‘My father says a gentleman always gives a crying lady his kerchief. It’s the chirivus-- chivrulus-- honourable thing to do.'

‘Oh and he's quite right. Your father’s governor, isn’t he? Governor Frost?'

'Ya-huh! That's the one.'

'He's a great man. I mi-- like him very much.’

‘Sometimes he takes me to work with him, and I get to boss people around. It’s really fun.’

‘Mm, I bet.’

#Jack Frost #Lucy Miller #adult!Lucy Miller #doctor!Lucy Miller #Jack Frost x adult!Lucy Miller #ML #Miller's Law #!fluff warning!#this is excessive I know #but I truly don't know when I'm going to be able to update ye olde Law :/ what with the whole unemployment thing #I do have a doozy of a Jacquie & Jack interaction in the next instalment. And also some Bernelle! So hopefully it'll be worth the wait!#but it's killlllling me not being able to share write-y stuffs. Hence the above #fic #writing #the santa clause #TSC #these are all incredibly self indulgent; I do apologise #I am but a jaded old lady who takes solace in long hugs and characters yearning across time n space for one another #(tell me you were brought up on dr who without telling me you were brought up on dr who)#as well as obtrusive weirdos getting cursed apparently #the implications of a curse that can be sent virtually - both from a world-building perspective and also a narrative perspective - ...#are as horrifying as they are impractical #ridiculous even #but I couldn't stop laughing at the prospect. So here it be #for now at least #needless to say I altered the circumstances of Lucy's meeting bb!Jack for the first time #this is a much younger and therefore much more happy-go-lucky Jack #younger also than the version of him in ch 5 #this Jack is probs smth like 700 - 800-ish #still a lil' charmer tho

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belokhvostikova · 3 months

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𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | With the seed planted, Operation Eddie Munson Must Die falls into plan, as—despite your dismay—a double date is secured with Winnie Ambrose, and Small-Town-Hottie Steve Harrington.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, tiniest mention of drugs, alcohol consumption, bits of arguing, insults, overall disrespectfulness, brief moment of a creep, mentions of past bullying, mentions of STDs, and explicit sexual content: oral (male receiving), cum eating, and protected vaginal sex.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Apologies in advance, I found that as I wrote it just kept getting shittier, and shittier. So if it's bad, I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm doing. Also desperately wanting to make Reader the villain, and have Eddie end up with a girlfriend... who knows :) Big thanks to these lovely anons (you, you, and you) for the plotline suggestions!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 16.2K

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

“God, I told you- I told you just how much of an asshole he was!” The front door shut with a slam, as Winnie’s handbag went flying to the couch in an adrenaline rage.

Your bottom plopped alongside the discarded purse, where you made the rash endeavor to release your ankles from the tight imprisonment of strappy heels that left your feet sore beyond repair. “C’mon, Winnie, I knew since the first time he left you crying that he was an asshole.”

With your fingers attempting to mitigate the soles of your feet, your tired eyes had a hard time keeping up with Winnie’s rampant pacing, as the concoction of a martini plus Eddie Munson had her on a buzzing thrill.

“And you!” Her finger projected to you, tight hands coming to clutch onto your shoulders. “You were incredible! Waving him off, and whatnot! Truly, if it was me, I would have been in his bed by now!” Winnie violently shook your shoulders. “God, he was so desperate, a-and crazy- god, Y/N, you made Eddie Munson crazy!”

“Oh, please, c’mon, Win, Eddie’s not stupid.” You shoved her hands off. “You even said he does this to every girl-”

“Not chase them!” Winnie urged. “For the love of God, he ran into traffic! Eddie Munson doesn’t chase, we chase- I, embarrassingly enough, chased him! That’s his whole game, but you- he went after you!”

You exhaustedly sighed, shoving your fingertips into the skin of your temple. No matter how enthusiastic Winnie’s words came out, your rationale merely vindicated his motives as nothing but self-indulgent and the furthest thing from interest. “Winnie, what kind of girl doesn’t swoon over a big, really stupid gesture? Like I said, Eddie isn’t stupid.”

With a pop, Winnie sunk to her knees, reaching eye level, as her’s unsettlingly burned into yours. “Y/N, believe me, I know Eddie more than you do,” but you knew his type more than she did, “he wanted you. Hell, he’s probably thinking about you right now!”

“Oh, fuck, baby, feels so fucking good, pussy feels so fucking good.” Eddie Munson clinched his eyes closed, as his hips punctured each thrust with a sticky slap of wet skin.

“Mm! Eddie! Please, don’t stop, ple-”

“Sh! Don’t talk, don’t fucking talk.” His voice grunted, as his heavy hand muffled Santina Rodrigo’s whines into the pillows of his bed. “Just let me fuck you- fuck this pretty pussy until you can’t speak.” The words rolled off his tongue like a studied script.

If you weren’t going to be in his bed tonight, someone else surely was.

His thrust became harsher. Bumping into the ripple of her ass, as her back curved to the gluttony of her body that just wanted more, and more. Pounding breaths were ripping through his flared nostrils, with pellets of salty sweat bleeding into his mouth, as a firm bite to his lip kept his moans at bay.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby. Eddie, I’m gonna-”

“Cream on my fucking cock, show me how good I’m fucking you. Scream it, sweetheart.” His stomach cramped with each fervent squelch of his dick ramming into her cunt.

You blinked. “You really think he’s thinking about me?” A shy smile unwarrantedly invaded your face.

Winnie jumped with joy. “Yes! He totally is!” She squealed. “But don’t you dare let that get to your head.” Her hand suddenly came in contact with your forehead.

“Ow!”

“That’s like strapping steak on your chest, and going into the lion’s den. If you’re not ready to fully face the charming wrath of Eddie Munson, you need to tell me now!” Christ, that accusatory finger was degrading you again with its vicious point. “Okay, you can’t fall for his shit!”

“I- no, n-no, I’m ready, like, so, totally ready.” Your face became stern under her glare. “Yeah, um, very much ready.” Your voice quieted.

“Remember Y/N, it’s guys like Eddie that get girls to think they’re so datable.” Her eyes dragged to the back of her head. “Okay, all this ‘oh, you’re so special, I’m obsessed with you, I’d do anything for you’ is a little bullshit game that gets girls to fawn over him.” She mocked with such a guttural voice.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect! Perfect just for me! Cum, baby, cum all over my fucking cock.” Eddie’s voice cracked through gritted teeth, as his hands painfully molded to the fat of her ass, squeezing until her skin was tender.

“Yeah, baby? Fuck, I’m cumming! I’m- aughhh!” Santina mewled into the rumpled sheets that soaked with her perspiration.

Eddie didn’t give her a minute to spare, as her scalp suddenly burned with the brutal grip of her hair in his hand. Her body nearly collapsed, as she trudged through the attempt of supporting herself on trembling legs, when Eddie forced her face to his body. The stretching of rubber slapped off his cock, as he haphazardly discarded the condom onto the expanse of the bedroom floor.

“C’mon, baby, open up, lemme cum down that fucking throat.” Her head could barely confirm his request with a nod, before Eddie shoved his length down her airway, with a thick gag to harshly pair with his deep groans.

Spit slung down the curve of her chin, doubling the stains that had previously bled themselves into his dirty sheets from a week of late night endeavors catered to different women, but always ended the same.

And Santina Rodrigo was no fool, she was fully capable of grasping the reality of Eddie Munson.

Which is why this night would end differently.

“Yeah, I know, which is totally why this date isn’t happening.” You proclaimed.

But Winnie Ambrose has other plans. “Oh, no, it totally is.”

“What?” You jumped from the couch. “What happened to the, y’know, ‘Eddie wants what he can’t have,’ going on a date with him is giving him exactly what he can’t have?”

Winnie sighed, a shake of disappointment came with the sympathetic look she burdened you with. “Oh, you poor, innocent thing.” Her manicured hand patronizingly caressed your head with pets. “Y/N…” her breath deepened, “…this is all a part of the plan!” She exclaimed. “Remember, you give and you take. Leading Eddie on will only grow his feelings, but never fully giving in will leave him wanting more! This is the basic principle of dating!”

“I don’t like this kind of dating.”

“Well, it’s what’s gonna work! We have to take him down!” Her hands harshly dug into your shoulders, bulging eyes of crazy staring into your soul. “And we will not back down! Say it with me! We will not back down!”

“Our neighbors are going to think we’re crazy, Winnie.”

“C’mon!” She incited you. “We will not back down! Eddie Munson will come down!” Winnie Ambrose truly had to be drill sergeant in her past life. “We will not back down! Eddie Munson will come down-”

“-Your throat. F-Fuck, gonna cum down your throat. Just keep gaggin’ on my cock, baby.” Eddie held a tight grip to Santina’s head, her hair now in an irreparable state of dishevelment from his unyielding grip that gave him the leverage to pummel his cock down her constricting throat.

With his balls tensing under the thick globs of spit that squelched his cock towards that buzzing bliss, Eddie suffocated Santina’s nose with the curls of his pubes, as his heavy grunts announced his orgasm, with streams of salty spurts invading her mouth.

“Mm, fuck, yeah, better swallow that shit down, fuck.” He slowed his movements, until his cock pulled from between her raw lips, as her tongue lapped up the strings of saliva that clung to his dick.

And here it came. Like clockwork.

“You okay, baby?” A caressing hand; pivotal for the illusion of caring. With his thumb gently stroking the breadth of her cheek, softly swiping the remanments of a blowjob from her lips, Santina Rodrigo melted into his touch. Next, words of affirmation. “Did so good for me, baby. Fuck, that was incredible.” Eddie Munson smiled. “Was that okay for you? Not too hard? You can tell me, sweetheart, want you comfortable, beautiful.” Something to flutter the heart, every person likes being cared for. And with a tired mouth too exhausted to confirm her contentment, Eddie went in for the kill. As Santina peered up at him with the roundest eyes to appeal to him, Eddie cemented this act of love with an intimate kiss on her gleaming forehead.

It was quite profound, actually.

Something about his large build hovering over, so easily chalked up to the roughness of man actually being vulnerable enough to express affection. It would have any girl swooning.

Eddie Munson knew that, but more importantly, Santina Rodrigo knew that.

So, as his back laid against the cushion of his pillows, his fingers reached for a cigarette to ease his mind of the inevitable downpour of cries that were about to be spewed his way. But the sudden movement beside him had his eyes connecting with hers, Santina. “Listen, sweetheart-”

“I’m off work Saturday.” With his sheets covering her once exposed breasts, she sat with her head held high, eyes unfaltering.

“I-”

“I understand you put on the theatrics for your gain, but I don’t want it, unless you mean it.” Santina smiled. “Really mean it.”

Eddie’s brows cinched to the center of his forehead, where his mind blanked at the unheard of bluntness from his—what was supposed to be—one night stand. “What are you getting at here, sweetheart?”

“I want a date on Saturday.” She asserted. “C’mon, you really think I would just let you fuck me, and move one?” Eddie’s face twisted with the laughter that smacked his face. “Grow up, Eddie. This act can’t last you forever.”

His thoughts were invaded with the tumultuous mix of unwanted astonishment that—as much as it pissed him off—sparked a little curiosity in his dazed mind. A laugh scoffed past his lips. “A date? Okay.” If it meant another easy fuck, who was he to give that up over a simple date.

“And no bullshit, Eddie.” Santina affirmed. “If I’m going to be allowing you to fuck me, it’s just going to be me.”

Eddie laughed. “Hold on now, baby, this,” his finger maneuvered against the space between them, “has only been a one night thing, you can’t, um, you can’t expect me to just stick to one pretty girl, now, c’mon, sweetheart.” He proffered a sly smirk that had her rolling her eyes.

“None of which will be as good as me.” Her confident stature had Eddie sucking in breath through his teeth-bitten lips. “And you’ll realize that quite quickly, but far too late for me to ever care for. So, Eddie, I suggest you clean yourself up nicely for this date. I don’t like anything cheap.” Stunned, he watched her naked body emerge from his sheets, as she quietly gathered her clothes. Her hand found itself wrapped around Eddie’s chin, nails digging into his skin to keep him face-to-face. “If I were you, I’d reconsider this whole ‘noncommittal’ act you like to screw girls over with.” She smiled, soft breaths against his lips. “I’m different Eddie, and you’re going to respect that. Goodbye.” Santina brandished her lip gloss to his lips with a wet kiss, before her heels clicked their way out of his apartment.

Eddie Munson blinked, screwing his eyes closed, as he scoffed in disbelief. “What the fuck?”

“Alright, alright, we’ll take Eddie Munson down.” You shoved your hand over Winnie’s mouth to quiet her voice, only for her muffled squeals of excitement to bleed through.

“Okay, okay!” She jumped with adrenaline, a bright smile to pair. “We have to be methodical, Y/N. Simply going on the date with Eddie isn’t going to cut it. We have to make sure you’re the only one dating Eddie. He’s never gonna take this seriously, if he’s still seeing other women. We have to cut off the source.”

“The source?”

“The source that makes Eddie Munson so dateable!” She huffed so obviously. “We have to make Eddie undateable.”

“Right, make the tall guy with nice hair, who plays lead guitar of his own band, and just so happens to be known as the man who can make any girl finish undateable. Yeah, that seems totally plausible.” You deadpanned.

Winnie Ambrose sighed. “When will you learn to never underestimate me?”

Next day by brunch, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, Winnie found herself sipping on one too many mimosas, and with the boredom of her lonesome company and the once baby blue polish that was mindlessly chipped to nothing, her endeavors brought her the social setting of Marie Ann’s Nail and Spa. “He gave you what now?!” Suddenly, the nail tech was hesitant to touch Winnie’s fingers.

“Mhm.” Winnie solemnly nodded, as the other women amongst her gasped. “At first, I thought it was just regular discharge, but then it just got worse, and worse!” She dramatically exclaimed. “And then suddenly, I was in pain, it hurt to pee, and I was getting these awful fevers.” Her acting twisted the faces of the fellow patrons to concern. “So, I did what any girl would do, and I went to the doctor, and what do you know it: the clap!”

“And Eddie Munson gave it to you?” Shirley Brinkle, with her toes soaking in the warm water of her chair, massage setting on, interrogated with her manicured hand clutching her necklace.

“Yup! I mean, he was the only one I’ve ever been with.” Quite the act. “And it checks out, y’know, with all the girls he’s been with, and whatnot.” Winnie fought to hold back a smile, as the ladies around her nodded in agreement. “So, I’m warning you. Do not get with Eddie Munson. He’s, like, a total walking biohazard.”

And it had worked… for some time. With how notorious the playboy had been, word spread quickly through groups of girlfriends who once gossiped about the sheer size of his cock, now having hushed conversations to stay clear of said cock. So, that evening, when Eddie had found himself in flirtations with the lady at the gym, who just looked too good in her gymwear to pass up, his confidence faltered at her sudden departure, when her friend stared him in his eyes, and whispered to her friends. Like, so motion, Eddie heard the quiet word slip from her mouth, “gonorrhea.” Panic.

But rule number one in warfare: never underestimate your opponent.

That Monday to come, Winnie dragged herself through the streets of Indianapolis to clock in her hours at work, though when passing the empty bar that saw its busiest attendance on the particular Saturday nights Corroded Coffin would perform, her body halted. Retaking her steps back, her sunglasses raised, eyes squinting to see if she was really seeing what she was seeing.

Posted on the window, “END THE STIGMA: Let’s talk about gonorrhea.” Eddie and his stupid face plastered on a poster was enough to make Winnie scoff. “Saturday night STD fundraiser! Live show included, here at The Albatross!”

“That conniving, little bitch!” And, of course…

“While an advocate, I, Eddie Munson, do not have gonorrhea or any sexually transmitted diseases.”

And just to rub some salt into the wound, “So sweet, isn’t he?” A stranger—a pretty one at it, too—voiced her admiration to Winnie, as they gazed upon the poster. “He’s, like, the only guy I know who would care about a cause.”

Damn it, the bar was in hell.

But while Eddie Munson may have gotten the upper hand in this round, he and his confidence in his system of juggling girls could not anticipate the events of Black Tuesday.

On Tuesdays like such, customers found little time to meander in the relaxation of the coffeehouse, as midweek work obligations called for the swift in-and-out transaction.

You quite like Tuesdays like such.

When little visitors frequented, your boss would tune up the small radio that allowed soft music to linger about, where it once would be drowned under the cacophony of shouting patrons, who took to vividly expressing their lives in conversations.

Spurt. Spurt. You hummed to the voice of Billy Joel, as the fragranced cleaner invaded your noise with lemony pinewood, providing that sleek gloss to the wooden table tops, as your damp rag smeared across the perimeter. Too ingrained with mimicking the tunes of “Vienna,” you hadn’t paid much mind to the chime of the door bell, simply throwing out the usual, “I’ll be with you in a minute,” as you continued the task of swiping away leftover crumbs of pastries that accompanied the light splatters of spilled coffee.

But turning on your feet to reach the register fell short, when you were suddenly face-to-face with Eddie Munson. “You’re quite hard to get a hold of… Y/N.” Ever so slightly, the sardonic tone of his voice curled his lips upward.

With a lump caught in your throat, you made the rash decision to merely walk away to the counter, screwing your eyes shut at the sound of following footsteps that stomped behind you. You cleared your throat. “What can I get you?”

“A date.” He nonchalantly nodded. “As you agreed.”

“Uh, no, I di-”

“Y’know, after asking you out, I came by Sunday to make plans for our date.” He interjected, as your eyebrows shot into the creases of your forehead.

“Didn’t work Sunday.” You blunted provided.

Eddie hissed, shaking his head. “Yeah, much to my disappointment.” His hand came up scratching the shavened skin of his cheek. “Though, also kinda lucky.” He laughed off, leaning in close. “Had some mess to deal with, all fixed now, so if you hear otherwise, it’s a lie.”

Oh, Winnie.

You suppressed the bulging of your eyes, and waved off his attempt at a conversation. “What do you want, Eddie?”

“I already told you: my date.”

“Can’t. Busy.” You turned your back to wipe off the counters that you had already cleaned before his arrival, though luckily, he didn’t know that.

“Alright, so I’ll accommodate. When do you get off?” With his forearms against the counter, his biceps bulged against his constricting arm sleeves, and maybe, just maybe, Eddie tensed his arms to let those veins pop, as you faced him again.

Annoyance was beginning to bubble in your chest. With what few customers did visit, all seemed to have a stick up their ass with their disrespectful attitude towards you, and you weren’t exactly keen to play into Eddie’s games. “Look, you forcing me to say yes to date, because you did something absolutely stupid is not me actually wanting you, okay? So, unless you’re going to order something, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Eddie propped to his extended height. “Hey, alright, look, you’re right, I’m sorry.” His ringed hands landed on his chest. “That was real stupid of me, but I meant what I said Saturday, I do have this funny, little feeling that you’re special, so can you really blame a guy?” You wanted to slap that smile off his face. You probably wouldn’t even be able to count how many times that one liner was used on other women, and your face showed it with the scowl that took over. “Alright, so you can blame me.” He laughed.

“Get out.”

“Hey, no, I’d like a latte, please. My usual, c’mon, Y/N, you know my usual.” Ugh, you did know his usual.

“It’ll be $5.”

A scoff chuckled out from his mouth. “What? It’s usually $3.10.”

“Not today.”

Eddie laughed in disbelief, as he reached for his wallet, slapping two $5 bills onto the counter, and sliding them over. “The extra five is for you, feeling generous.” He cockily shrugged. Degrading and patronizing? To hell with it, you were a service worker, of course, you took the tip. You once again turned, given another distraction of actually concocting his order to find reason not to entertain him. “Think the universe is in my favor, no? Came in Sunday, you weren’t here. Came in Monday… you weren’t here. Why was that anyway?”

“Had class. Got the night shift.”

“Ah, so you go to university. See, look at us, we could be getting to know each other just like this, but on a date.” You despised the soft laughter that echoed through your nose, something Eddie surely had picked up on with the large smile that took over his face. “But then y’know what? Came in on this fine Tuesday, and what d'ya know? Third times a charm, here you are.”

“Unfortunately.”

Eddie laughed. “Oh, you’re funny.” Oh, Christ, you were smiling. Thank god your back was turned. “You like the movies, got a favorite film.”

“Hate them, actually.”

“Alright, well, what about dinner?” Eddie proffered. “Got a nice restaurant in mind, could order you some nice steak, ooh, the lobster is always incredible.

“Don’t eat meat. It’s disgusting.” You lied.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Y/N, sweetheart, you gotta work with me here.”

“I quite literally don’t.” You slid over the plastic cup of coffee. Winnie would be so proud of you.

“Ooh,” he hissed, “I actually wanted this for here.” Eddie matched your movement, sliding back the latte, as his eyes never left yours.

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders to match his considerably cool apathy, when in reality you were ready to hurl your guts over the mortifying experience of having to talk to a guy like him. “Well, you should have specified that. Too late now.” You shoved the cup back.

Eddie smiled that sickly grin, leaning in close enough to have you cowering below him. But your eyes stayed staunch to the confidence you were trying to exude, never forfeiting the staring contest he forced you into. “C’mon, just tell me what I gotta do to get you on a little date with me. What’s it gonna take?” His head tilted with that devious smirk.

“Well, maybe…” you sincerely sighed, “...if you would just leave.” You round eyes peered up at him.

A guttural laugh bubbled in his chest, as he blushed down with a suppressed smile. “I’m being serious.”

“And who says I’m not?” You smiled back.

“Alright, look, it’ll all be on your terms. Your wish is my command. Anything you want.” Eddie laid his cards out flat on the table.

You swallowed thickly, regulating yourself through the heavy breathing of a long sigh that escaped from you. Realistically, being one-on-one with someone like Eddie was a set up for disaster. As embarrassing as it is to admit, you’d only survive this far with the words of Winnie Ambrose playing into your ear, coaching you through the complexity that is Eddie Munson. You give and you take, and so far, the easiest thing was taking away, and even that had your stomach twisting with the gruesomeness of anxiety that left your mind on overdrive with intrusive thoughts.

What did Eddie Munson think of you? How much of an embarrassment would you make out of yourself suddenly falling into his trap? No, you were better than that. This wasn’t going to be another Dalton Barron moment- ugh, Christ, you don’t even want to think about him. Okay, so you learned from your mistake, it won’t happen again, just don’t trust Eddie Munson. Yeah, don’t trust Eddie Munson. Surely, anyone would agree with you on that one. But what if not trusting him puts him off? What if that’s what drives him away, and Winnie’s plan ultimately fails, because of yo-

“C’mon, Y/N, I think you’re gettin’ a little too into your head here.” He swayed in his stance. Your face frowned, clearly not appreciative of how easily he read that.

“I don’t- I just don’t want to go on a date with you.” You softly answered, watching his head drop in defeat. “At least, not alone.” He slowly peered back up in interest.

Eddie nodded to your suggestion. Was it ideal? Definitely not, it’d be quite difficult making the moves on you with people around. But if it meant getting you out with him… “I got a friend.” His fingers snapped at the sudden revelation that hit him.

“A friend?”

“Yup.” His lips popped with emphasis. “Pretty good looking guy, y’know, nice hair n’ all. Family’s loaded, too, he’s working at the law firm his dad owns back in my hometown.”

“You’re not from here?” You questioned.

Eddie smiled. “See, you’re totally interested in gettin’ to know me.” He teased an eye roll out of you. “But, no, to answer your question, I’m not. Hawkins, in fact. Pretty small town about forty minutes out north west from Indy. A little shitty- well, actually, a lot shitty,” Eddie chuckled, “but it’s quiet at night, which I’ve always liked. So, if it’ll make you a bit more comfortable,” he leaned over, “why don’t you and that roommate of yours come out to Hawkins to hang out with me and my buddy.”

Your eyes softened at the request, as your heartbeat slowly dissipated to the calm rhythm it once was pumping at, before Eddie ruined that for you. “You- you’d be okay with Winnie coming?”

“No.” He laughed. “In fact, I think bringing an old hookup—who just so happens to hate my guts—to a double date sounds absolutely miserable, but I’m willing to be miserable if it means getting to be with you.” No salacious smirk this time, spoken matter-a-factly even, which somehow felt more unsettling. “Hopefully Steve can entertain your friend enough for me.” Eddie shrugged.

“Steve?”

“Harrington.” He finished off for you. “Quite the ladies man, in fact, so I’m sure he’ll have no problem agreeing to this.” Then, Eddie whispered close. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t steal you off of me.” He winked, before grabbing his drink to take a couple steps back. “You get off by, I don’t know, five?” You couldn’t even fathom words at the moment, only meeting him with a small nod that mindlessly controlled itself. “Perfect, then let’s say about eight. Real casual, nothing too crazy. The Hideout, it’s a little bar. In Hawkins. My treat.” He smiled. “Have a nice day… Y/N.”

Eddie Munson had become quite obsessed with saying your name.

“Steve Harrington? Sounds like some boy-next-door sitcom name.” Winnie laughed, as her mouth crunched down on the handful of chips that stuffed themselves down her mouth.

“Eddie said he was really good looking, though.” You sat by her propped feet on the coffee table. “And- and, he’s in the whole lawyer business thing.” You offered.

“He’s a lawyer?” Winnie’s interest piqued at the sudden monetary value of Steve Harrington.

“Well, Eddie said he worked at a law firm, not entirely sure what he does, but you could totally find out if you go, please, pretty please.” You begged. “Don’t let me go by myself, you know I won’t be able to handle it, I’ll probably panic and say something stupid, and this whole plan will come crashing-”

“Okay, okay.” Winnie gave in, folding over the plastic of her chip bag, as she rid herself the crumbs that stuck around her mouth. “You know what? You’re right, we have to get this date going.” She urgently stood. “We have to go all out. What are we thinking? Skirt? Maybe a dress? Ooh, I’ve been meaning to bust out my new Vivienne Westwoods-”

“Wait, no, Eddie said this was supposed to be casual.” You stopped her. “Just some bar, I think by the sounds of it, in his hometown.”

“Eddie’s bringing you to his hometown?!” Winnie halted, face contorting into the dozen creases of dumbfoundedness. “What the hell?! The first time I got with him, I asked for his last name, and he told me not to push it. Had to hear it from some other girl he was screwing. Holy shit, Eddie Munson’s whipped for you!”

“What? N-No, he’s not.” You tried appeasing her shock. “It’s just like a convenience thing, y’know? For his friend, I assume.”

Winnie laughed in disbelief, shaking her head to dispute your claims. “Oh, this plan is so going to work!” She cheered. “C’mon, we have a first date to ruin!”

By 5:45 P.M, your bathroom steamed with the hotness of condensation, as the aromas of scented body washes and lotions clung to your body. Unlike the preparations of Saturday night, ‘dressing casually’ proved difficult for Winnie, who opted to rummage through your closet. “Ugh, don’t you have anything lacey?”

“Is lacey really casual?” You wondered, as you hopped into your shorts with a shimmy to get them from around your ass.

“It is to me.” Winnie whined, flinging articles of clothing you knew she’d never clean up.

“What about my maxi skirt right there?” You proffered.

Winnie examined the layered sheer material. It was a sage green. She quite liked green with her auburn hair. “It’s not too hot for this?” She hesitantly questioned.

“Totally not! Enough flow for some airway.” You sold. “Plus, pretty easy to slip off for Mr. Lawyer.” You teased, at least something funny enough to get her to smile.

“Oh, I shouldn’t- well…” You laughed at her contemplation, as you both fell comfortably in the pile of clothes in your disorganized bedroom. “Maybe if he’s, like, really hot. Like, River Phoenix hot. Ooh, that means I should definitely wear my push-up bra, wherever the hell it went.” You dug for a thin sweater to throw on. “No, but wait, would that make a slut?” You laughed at her question. “Like, royal slut for sleeping with two friends?

“Who cares, Win. Have your fun.” You offered in return, watching her shoulders relax. “Eddie’s doing it, anyway. Why can’t you?”

Winnie gasped. “You would sleep with Eddie Munson?!”

Your mouth fell open. “W-What? No, I didn’t say that, like, a-at all. I just- I meant dating.”

“Okay, but would you?” Winnie teased, poking at your belly to rile you up.

Your mind blanked, mouth falling dry through your stutters. “N-No, I don’t even like him like that. You- it’s you making me do this, remember?” You defended. “I wouldn’t have even talked to him if it wasn’t for this idea.” It’d be best if Winnie Ambrose never learned the identity of your mysterious coffeehouse crush that was discovered to be Eddie Munson. Even then, all those barely there, absolutely not deep, totally juvenile feelings vanished when learned that not only had he been sleeping with your best friend, but apparently all of Indianapolis.

“Well,” Winnie sighed, trusting your word, “you’re stronger than most. Which honestly, is the only thing keeping this plan working, because let’s be honest here, Eddie is going to try to sleep with you sooner or later.” Your stomach churned. “But, remember we can’t let that happen. Best way to go about it is to be, y’know, calm and collected. Brush him off effortlessly.”

“Okay, calm and collected. Like I don’t care. Just be indifferent.” You detail your understanding.

“Exactly, but don’t totally wave him off! The only thing reeling him in is your slight interest.” You felt like your head was about to explode. “So, just take notes and remember to be caring and passionate. He’s gotta know you’re feeling something, y’know?” No, you don’t know. “But then,” oh, Christ, “you gotta learn when to hit back, okay? Eddie’s an asshole. You know that, I know that, everyone knows that. And that filthy mouth of his is bound to say something gross to get a reaction out of you. So, stand your ground, be proud and aggressive. He’ll easily walk all over you if you’re meek.”

“Okay, well, I rejected him, now I’m going on a date with him, so he thinks I’m “interested,” I just don’t know what to do next.” You frowned in frustration. “This is all a lot, y’know?”

“C’mon, you’ve dated before-”

“Yeah. Though, it was only one, singular, y’know… Dalton.” You groaned, pressing the heels of your palms into your eye sockets to suppress the memories that were trying to hash out that anger for the closure you never got.

“Exactly!” Winnie snapped with emphasis. “You’ve been down this road before, you know what to expect. And people like Eddie and Dalton need to pay up for what they’ve done! So, don’t strike yourself out, we are women! We are feminists! This is for feminism!”

You huffed out a sardonic chuckle. “I don’t think that’s what feminism means, Winnie.”

“Okay, well, we’re both young women, who are hot as shit, and are not going to let some gross dudes ruin us!” She declared. “So, when you go on this date, you play it aloof. Don’t give him everything, but give him enough.”

“Like what?”

“Like, if he compliments you, don’t shy away, you take it!” She explained. “Oh, and the three seconds rule! You wait three seconds to answer him when you’re talking.”

“Doesn’t that seem a little redundant?” You brows cinched in question.

“No, it totally works for me!” She protested.

“Winnie,” you sympathetically sighed, “you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Ugh, look, if I wanted to keep them around, I would, because that three seconds rule works! Makes me look cool, Y/N.” Winnie sassed in protest. Before you could retaliate a teasing comment to her skewed views of dating, a knock at the front door had cut your conversation short. “I’ll get it.” Winnie huffed, throwing your maxi skirt in the mountaining pile of clothes, before heading out. While you could, your shirt had shimmied itself off your body to find comfort in a sweater that would suffice for the whole ‘I don’t care’ look you hoped to exude with this forced upon date. Suddenly, Winnie’s feet could be heard shuffling as quickly as possible back to your room. “Fucking flowers?!”

“What?” You questioned, as you fixed your hair from the mess that de-clothing caused.

In the crinkle of brown tissue paper and twine, a dozen stems of pastel tulips stood lively in Winnie’s hands. “He went full Netherlands on you!”

“Eddie?!” Your brows jumped in perplexion.

Winnie scoffed in disbelief. “Who else would be E. Munson?!” She pulled out the small envelope that propped itself within the tangle of flowers. You stood from the floor, grabbing the pretty bouquet, as Winnie shuffled to slide the card from the paper encasing. “Ugh, ugh,” she cleared her throat. “To ease your mind, something as pretty as you, Y/N. Let me do things properly, give me a call to pick you up: three, one, seven, blah, blah, blah. Gag.” Winnie rolled her eyes. “Sending you flowers, while taking you to some dingy bar, how chivalrous.”

“W-Wait a minute,” you snatched the card from her hand, “what? Am I supposed to ride with him now?” Your finger skimmed over the felt-tip pen that bled Eddie’s number to the cardstock of the note.

“No.” Winnie snatched the card, ripping it in half.

“Uh- Winnie! This was actually a little sweet, c’mon.”

“Remember, we’re playing this cool!” She urged. “You already agreed to this date, you can’t feed him more. You’re not accepting any of this- well, keep the flowers, they’d look quite nice on our mantel. But don’t call him, okay? We can drive ourselves. And, like, what the hell? Did he just expect me to tow behind? He, like, totally didn’t think of me at all.” Your brow slowly lifted at her. “Alright, alright, I’ll shut up about myself.”

Through the static voices of Skid Row over the radio, you turned about the creased map every which way, trying to read the barely eligible highways with their too tiny of a font names. “Oh, okay, it’s Exit 13A.”

“How far away is it?” Winnie held the steering wheel under a tight grip.

“Um,” you peered up. “it’s right there! Winnie, right lane! Go to the-”

“I’m trying! This slow bastard isn’t moving!” She screamed.

You reached over the console. “Your blinkers!” A quick flip to the handle clicked on the indicators. “They won’t know unless your blinkers are on!”

Meanwhile, Eddie’s foot had anxiously tapped to the ticks of the clock, as his thumb nail was facing the repercussion of his nervous gnawing.

Where the hell were you? It was nearing a quarter to eight, and your expected phone call hadn’t come by. No bounce of his knee, no hand through his hair, no pacing around could ease the nerves that pissed him off, because he so ardently waited for your call. He stood from his couch, quickly making his way to the phone, but no matter how desperate that itch was telling him to call instead, it all fell into a lost cause, as Eddie didn’t know your number. Eddie didn't know Winnie’s number. Hell, Eddie didn’t know any woman’s number. They called. Not him. Never him. Well, he could go over to your apartment- no, that was on another level of desperation that Eddie felt was too pathetic to ever let his pride commit to.

“Augh,” he groaned in annoyance, as those anxious nerves were beginning to be taken over by anger. “What a bitc- mm.” He restrained himself with a gruff. “What am I- what am I doing waiting around? Fuck this, I’ll get someone else.” Eddie raged under his breath, as he snatched his jacket, and stomped his way out of the apartment.

Your eyes followed along the passing trees, as the prussian blue of nighttime was beginning to feed into the amber glow of the leaving sunset. Hawkins had been nothing but a straight highway of nonbeing, as Eddie’s words came into existence: it was quiet at night. Rocks skipped under the fast turning wheels of the car, as you approached the faded sign welcoming you into the solitude of Hawkins, Indiana. When rows of woodlands finally ended, you were met with the expanse of cornfields.

“So…” Winnie dragged out. “How exactly are we supposed to find this bar?” She questioned, as her eyes fell on the long road ahead. “Maybe we should have taken up Eddie’s offer.” You shot her a look of disbelief. “Okay, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, but seriously.”

“Eddie said it was a small town, so I’m sure it won’t take too long. Just look out for bar, preferably with any sign at says ‘The Hideout.’”

“The Hideout… The Hideout.” She ticked, as she drove wherever the roads guided her.

Through the unintentional exploration of the suburbs and downtown areas, your destination was found through the environs north front of abandoned diners, lonesome laundromats, and a dilapidated trailer park where rusted car parts littered the dead grass against man made driveways.

The neon sign buzzed through its draining power. “Some first date.” Winnie groaned, taking in the foundation of stained bricks.

You shrugged with the bit of optimism you were clawing to hold on to. “M-Maybe it’s quaint.”

“Yeah, for a bunch of hillbilly, old dudes with beer bellies.” She grouched, as her legs dragged her out of the car. You swiftly followed, choosing to subtly cower behind her, as you both loitered the makeshift parking lot of what was just tire tracks and haphazard parking. “These guys better be here already.” Winnie rolled her eyes. Nothing but the running engine of a burgundy Bimmer buzzed through the chilled atmosphere.

And it hadn’t been until the engine was keyed off, with a figure slamming the door shut, that it finally caught your attention. “Hey, hey, wait, you think that’s Steve?” Your hand repeatedly smacked against Winnie’s arms.

Winnie squinted her eyes through the dark. Well, he did have the hair. Great hair, in fact. Totally walked like he could be some wannabe lawyer, especially with the white button-up he adorned; too fancy for a place like such. Could definitely see him being casted as the boy-next-door. And woah, was he pretty. Like, ridiculously pretty. “It better be Steve, fuck me.” Her glossed lips fell open.

“O-Okay, so, we just, like, ask him-”

“Ayo, Steve!” Winnie’s deepened voice boomed to the likeness of a man, before harshly turning around to avoid being caught.

“Oh, my god.” You quietly sighed to yourself in embarrassment, as Winnie’s efforts clearly fell short of subtlety, and the now identified Steve Harrington was looking right over.

Winnie stood stiff, as if to appear invisible. “Well, did he look up?”

“Yes, he looked up.” You deadpanned. “And right at us, in fact, because that was awful.” An incredulous chuckle scoffed out of you.

“Aw, great, he probably thinks I sound like a chain smoker now.” She groaned, as you both awkwardly shuffled to his direction.

He proffered such a boyish smile with a small wave to greet you both, before his arms crossed over his chest, hands tucking under his armpits. “Hey, uh, sorry, this is a bit confusing, you’re here to hang out with Ed and I?” He questioned with a small smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” You softly answered. “I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself.

Steve flashed you a warm smile, before pointing a curious finger beside you. “Ah, so you’re mine tonight?” He asked for clarification to Winnie, who blushed under his suaveness.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be yours any night.” She mindlessly responded, luckily rifting that first-meet-up awkward tension that now dissipated into sincere laughter.

“Alright then,” Steve’s cheeks plumped under his growing smile. “Wendy, right?”

Winnie rolled her eyes. “That bastard, it’s Winnie.” She beamed.

“Winnie, got it, I apologize.” Steve offered, as she shyly waved him off, truly enamored through her school girl-like crush. “Well, uh, like I was saying, I am a bit confused, ‘cause Eddie had kinda told me you guys bailed on us.”

“What?” You mused over his words in confusion.

Steve shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not sure, something about you not calling, or just basically canceling, I guess.” You and Winnie slowly looked at one another. “I don’t know, he called me before I clocked off work, but after a shift with my dad,” an airy laugh breathed out of him, “figured I could still go for a drink. So, sorry if I’m a little overdressed.” His hands panned over his suited body. “Yeah, so, I’m assuming some lines of communication got lost. You guys definitely didn’t cancel, right?”

“No, we were trying to be feminists.” You sarcastically lilted.

“Right, right.” Steve laughed along. “Well, uh, since this double date is definitely not canceled, why don’t we all head inside? I’ll call up Eddie, see if he picks up, and if not… well, I surely don’t mind taking out two pretty girls, so my treat.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m definitely keeping him.” Winnie whispered into your ear.

Where mandatory I.D checks made up The Albatross, it surely lacked at The Hideout, as nothing but spotted glass door—dirtied by a litter of sticky fingerprints—had fallen easily open to welcome any patron who chose to drown their stress with a bitter bottle of beer. Whatever Top 100 Hits Winnie had been used to listening to during her bar endeavors had been switched to bare the brunt of country rock, as older men and women spaced themselves accordingly, rather than the practical dry humping The Albatross was regularly accustomed to.

Steve Harrington, the soon to be discovered paralegal, had situated you both to a lonesome table surrounded by four stools, where you received the chance to gaze about the rustic decor of American flags and sports jerseys that complimented the dusty deer head that hung against the dark wood. “Hey, so, you guys have any drink preferences?” His head gestured to the bar.

“Two beers will be fine.” Winnie’s chipper voice answered, as you nodded in agreement.

“Perfect, I’ll head up to get our drinks, and see if I can give Eddie a call.” Winnie froze under his innocent hand that landed on her shoulder, before Steve sauntered off.

“Oh, Christ, I’m gonna marry him.” Winnie groaned into her hands.

You giggled at her unease. “It’s barely been five minutes.”

“But it’s been a good five minutes.” She protested in defense.

“Okay, so, um, while you get to enjoy your time with Steve, I mean, what should I do about Eddie?” You talked in hushed whispers, as subtle glances to the bar showed Steve in casual conversation with the bartender. “Like, what if he does come, y’know, he’s gonna be pissed? O-Or, uh, if he doesn’t show, does that mean he’s no longer interested?”

“Okay, shh.” Winnie interrupted your panicked speech. “Look, alright, we kinda did screw over Eddie, but, I mean, who were we to know he thought that was us canceling. If anything, we deserve the right to piss him off, especially me.” She scoffed. “That ‘Wendy’ bullcrap. What, do I look like some freckled, red-head child with braids slapped on some burger wrapper?”

You peered back at the revelation. “Oh, my god, wait, with your hair, you do kinda look like-”

“Shh, lalala, I’m hearing it, that wasn’t the point!” You wiped off the spit that flung from her harsh whispers. “Circling back,” her lips emphasized, “Eddie’s going to come, okay? He’s like every other dude, alright, they can’t take rejection, always have to bother you as to why you don’t want them. So, he’s going to come, and when he does, you have to stand your ground. Alright, no apologizing, no feeling bad, no ‘oh, let me make it up to you.’” She mocked her damsel-in-distress voice. “You better give him the cold shoulder. Anger is still very much an emotion, and if he’s angry that means he cares. It means he has feelings, feelings which you hurt! Like. A. Bad. Ass.”

You chuckled incredulously. “Don’t really think being mean makes me a badass-”

“It does in the case of Eddie Munson, alright?” Winnie cemented. “Clearly, people haven’t been mean enough to him.”

Steve Harrington had given Roger, the bartender, the grace to prioritize the other patrons on their refills, after opening his tab to the orders of you, Winnie, and him—alongside an additional order of generic greasy food—as a phone call to Eddie Munson was surely to last a bit more than a quick ‘hello.’ After gaining permission to use the establishment’s phone, Steve had propped himself against the wall of the back storage room, with the ringing, red phone against his ear.

Perhaps Eddie Munson was trying to overcompensate for the bruised ego caused by your rejection, as he resulted in swallowing the mouth of Jenny Albridge in the center of his living room couch. And I mean really swallowing. Their lips smacked hungrily with too much saliva, forcing Eddie to endure it if it mean fucking his frustrations out.

And poor Jenny, while she’s heard of the eighth wonder Eddie had added to the world from underneath his pants, she hadn’t actually been with him. It just so happened to be faith that their shoulders collided, while she left her evening pilates class. And hell, after an intense, sweaty workout, she wanted another—albeit slightly different—intense, sweaty workout, especially after the numerous five star ratings.

Though, maybe she’d just caught him on a bad day. Like, a really, really bad day. But maybe she was supposed to like it? The whole aggressive, teeth clashing, tongue invading, spit drenching make out that would hopefully finally lead to the good part. There was going to be a good part, right?

Ring, ring, ring, ring…

Oh, thank god, Eddie thought, as he finally had an excuse to detach from her lips, giving Jenny the go ahead to catch her breath with a deep gasp of air. He shifted quickly from the couch, walking to the phone, pulling it abruptly to stop the incessant shrilling. “Hello?”

“Ed, man.” Steve stood straight. “Hope you know the girls are here.” He snickered into the phone.

“Girls?” Eddie wiped the spit from his lips. “What gi-” The revelation backhanded him in the face, as his mouth stooped low with confusion. “What? No, they canceled!”

“I think that’s what they had you thinking, but really they just drove themselves. And now, I’ve just ordered them beers and some food, so unless you’re giving me the grace to talk up your girl and her friend, I’d suggest you come down here as quick as possible.” Steve laughed.

While he may have lived a couple towns over from the big city, Steve Harrington was no stranger to the name Eddie had given himself in Indianapolis, as periodic visits would consist of his friend recounting the newfound experience he gained with women, to eventually being one another’s wingman.

In fact, Steve regularly joked about Eddie ‘decrowning’ him as king, as he now flaunted the hookup culture he, so very actively, participated in, thanks to the “bell bottom hippies, who were so desperately horny, they made it a movement.” His words, definitely not any history books’ words.

“They’re fucking there?! Are you- ugh!” His fingers shoved into his eyes in frustration. “I fucking sent her flowers with the number, and everyth-”

“Woah, you sent her flowers?” Steve interrupted with shock. “Since when do you ever send flowers?”

“I don’t know! This girl is pissing me off, I- I’ll be there, alright!” Jenny Albridge scrunched her face in heavy judgment. “J-Just make sure she doesn’t- I mean, them. Make sure they don't leave!”

Steve chuckled at the stutter of his voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep them entertained.” He laughed.

Eddie scoffed. “I’m serious, Harrington, no funny business! She already thinks I’m some asshole, and her friend is probably feeding her some more bullshit about how terrible I am.”

Steve playfully rolled his eyes, as he recalled the panicked phone call that transpired a couple hours prior, with Eddie imploring him to agree to a blind double date. Something about fucking some girl, but now wanting said girl’s friend, but said girl’s friend doesn’t want him, because said girl told her friend about him fucking other girls. Whatever it was, it was a big, jumbled mess, and Steve wondered why Eddie ever involved himself in the first place. Though, apparently, it was important enough if Eddie had to send you flowers. “Well, you did kinda screw over Winnie-”

“Okay, that's not the point!” Eddie spat out in a rush. Maybe it was how alike Winnie Ambrose and Eddie Munson had been that repelled them so harshly from one another. Jenny Albridge was quietly shuffling on her shoes. “Look, I-” He took a deep breath, regulating himself. “I’ll be there. While I’m not going to force you to do anything, it would be greatly appreciated if you helped a friend out, and talked me up.”

“Alright, alright.” Steve agreed. “Just hurry up, I highly doubt you cruising around is gonna better any impression this girl’s already got for you.” With that, Steve cut off any response Eddie had prepared with the buzzing of a dead line, as he hung up the phone.

Eddie sighed, running his hand through his hair. Turning around, he flinched at the sight of an awkwardly smiling Jenny, as he’d genuinely forgotten about her presence amidst the phone call. Both blinked back-in-forth to one another; a mutual consensus silently understood.

“Yeah, you need to leave.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

A basket of chicken tenders and fries had interrupted your conversation short, as they were placed against the table, with Steve arriving with his hand clinging to the necks of three beer bottles, each tucked between the space of his fingers. “Sorry, I know it’s not Michelin Star-esque, but it’s the best this bar’s got, so hopefully it’s enough to satiate any hunger.” He smiled. Steve was hit with an influx of ‘thank you’s’ from the both of you, as the stationary centerpiece of condiments were beginning to fill up the tiny containers that came with the meal. “Oh, and Ed’s on his way, as well.”

“He’s coming?” You questioned.

“Yeah, yeah, told him to come as quick as possible.” Steve answered, as he took his seat next to Winnie.

Winnie squirted an aggressive amount of ketchup onto her tray, leaving Steve to smile at her antics. “Wait, did he sound mad over the phone?”

“Uh, I mean, he was a little worked up, y’know, in his usual dramatic self.” His answer came with the hesitation of wondering how to play the best wingman to people who clearly hadn’t established the best opinion of him. “But, he’s coming, dropped everything and is on his way.”

“See, I told you.” Winnie nudged your shoulder.

Steve popped a ranch covered fry into his mouth. “Told her what?”

“That Eddie being angry means he’s totally into her.” Winnie proudly beamed.

He laughed. “Oh, yeah, I heard about the whole flowers thing.”

You fervently shook your head. “I’m not exactly trusting anything Eddie does to be in good faith.” You proffered a delicate smile. “I mean, I know what he’s like, so not really trusting him to be this great person.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, then, can I ask why you agreed to date him? Like, especially after what he did to you.”

Both you and Winnie took a second to stare at one another, before she leaned in close. “I know he’s your friend, but you promise not to say anything? Y’know, to him?” Now piqued with interest, Steve stood straight, nodding in agreement. “Okay…” Winnie sighed, “we’re basically trying to take him down.”

Steve laughed, quite amused, and very happy with accepting the request to go on this blind double date. “Wow, okay. A feminist thing?” He chuckled, “How’s that going?”

“Well, we’re only in the beginning stages, but it’s working great so far!” Winnie gloated. “I mean, he was literally begging her to go out on this date! I am a genius!”

“So, then what’s the follow up?”

“Well, I’m sure you know how Eddie is.” Steve confirmed it with a shake of his head. “We are just trying to make him feel how we, as women who have fallen victim to him, feel.” Winnie held her head high. “So, if all things run smoothly, then hopefully he’ll learn to not be such a douchebag.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, “I mean, he’s a good guy.” Winnie raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Well, at least, he used to be.” He clarified. “I think moving to the city was very much a way of letting go of his old life here, which, y’know, I’m proud of, though, I’m sure he’s probably not making the best decisions most of the time.”

“What was he letting go of?” You curiously asked, leaning against the table.

“Well, Eddie hasn’t always exactly been a ladies man.” He breathily chuckled. “Uh, in fact, probably not the most liked guy in town. By girls, or people in general. Just unfortunately got tied to a bad reputation, because of how close-minded Hawkins can be. Y’know, the whole metalhead gig isn’t exactly what the church goers of our town prefer.”

Concern etched across your face. “It got that bad that he wanted to leave?”

Steve nodded. “I mean, people are assholes, gave him grief just to take the piss out of him. I know he didn’t exactly want to leave- or, actually, leave the people in his life behind. He’s got an uncle over here, me and our other friends, his old band members, his little DnD club.” Eddie Munson, the cocky lead singer, played Dungeons and Dragons? You softly laughed, truly believing Eddie was an enigma; such juxtaposition within himself. “But, y’know, he had to do what he had to do. For himself.”

“And now he really does just do everything for himself.” Winnie playfully scoffed.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll have a change of heart if he continues “seeing” you.” Steve smiled. “I mean, think the last I ever heard of Eddie giving anyone flowers was for this cheerleader he had some crush on, before her boyfriend got wind of it. It turned into this big blow out, Eddie, of course, had already gotten into his fair share of fights before, so pretty easy to say this kid got beat up, until his basketball buddies joined in. That only worsened his image, and pretty much humiliated him, so…”

“Yeah, no wonder he turned into such an asshole.” Winnie inferred, as a deep pit of sorrow buried in your belly for Eddie. Something you severely tried to ignore, given his background had garnered no justification for his current actions.

“But maybe he’ll turn a new leaf.” His friend felt optimistic. Or, at least, hoped. “He still working down at that tattoo parlor, right?”

Was he? Despite how much Winnie fed you, you actually knew nothing of him. “Probably.” Winnie’s face stuffed with the crunch of a juicy tender. “What about you, though? Eddie mentioned something about a lawyer?” She sweetly smiled.

Christ. Perhaps bailing on Eddie’s chauffeuring offer only forced you to become a third wheel for the time being. “Oh, definitely not a lawyer, just a paralegal for my dad who is one.”

“Still impressive, though.” She batted her lashes. “I’m sure you’re great at it.” Truthfully, Winnie Ambrose had no clue as to what a paralegal was, but if it made him flash his smile, then she’d gladly continue.

“What about you two? You guys work?”

“Yeah, just as a barista, while I finish up college.” You concisely answered.

“Oh, and I finished cosmetology school not too long ago, started working as a hairstylist, so I could totally do your hair, which by the way, you have great hair.” Her fingers delicately played with the few strands that framed his head.

You hadn’t seen yourself suddenly wishing for Eddie Munson to appear sooner. It was on the sixth chicken tender that you were beginning to lose patience. While Steve Harrington had been the farthest from rude and included you in conversation, you weren’t socially inept to understand that his preferences laid in speaking with the girl he blindly agreed to date. But on the upside, you’d been surprised as to how entertaining it was to dip from between ketchup and ranch to please your taste buds. And washing it down with a cool beer? Surely, this was heaven-

“What happened to you not eating meat?” You felt his hot breath against your ear.

Your nose nearly bumped his, as your head spun to meet his squinted eyes that scrutinized you through his glare. You had no other choice than to smile, and pop the last bit of the chicken tender into your mouth with a glorious crunch and moan that pissed him off with a smile searing onto his face.

“Hey, man, you made it.” Steve Harrington had brandished Eddie Munson’s hand with the typical boyish handshake, before Eddie’s jacket met the table, and he took his seat next to you.

Eddie incredulously chuckled. “Well, y’know, would’ve come sooner, but…” his glare twisted to you, “...apparently reading is a little hard to comprehend for some.”

Gobsmacked, you were ready to smack that smirk off his face, but Winnie had chimed in. “Actually, we did read it, we just didn’t care.” She placed a fry into her mouth.

“‘We?’” Eddie laughed. “C’mon, Wendy, don’t you know by now no guy would ever give you flowers? That note was for Y/N.” Eddie hadn’t even cared to notice the look of offense that stunned her face, only focusing on whispering into your ear. “And I thought I told you by now to have a mind of your own?”

Your stomach became agitated by his words, and suddenly those six chicken tenders and fries felt like a bad idea. “God, you see how much of an asshole your friend is?” Winnie’s voice felt so distant in your hazed mind.

“Hey, Ed, c’mon, knock it off.” Steve mediated. “Look, let’s just all start on a clean slate, alright? No more bickering.”

“Alright, then.” He sighed, switching his full attention to you with a sly grin. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.”

The most you could mobilize out of your mouth was a simple, “hi,” in return.

Eddie’s tongue lolled around the inside of his mouth. It was clear you were going to be short with him. “So, uh, new to Hawkins, huh? How’re ya liking it?” Winnie’s words of advice were burdening your overthinking head. Three seconds. One… two- “Uh, okay, I’m glad you could make it. Glad that you agreed most of all. Even if you got here without me.” You gulped. One… two… thr- “Can I get you another drink?” You blinked down at the half filled beer bottle you’ve been nursing. One… two… t- “Okay, don’t answer.” Eddie gave up with an exasperated sigh.

“Hey, if you two would like another round, I can grab it for you?” Steve proffered, and you watched Winnie subtly nod her head to you in secrecy.

You stuttered back quickly. “Oh, yeah, t-that’d be great. Thank you, Steve.”

Eddie glowered in disbelief, watching as Steve whisked himself away towards the bar. “Y’know, if flowers weren’t your thing, you could’ve ringed me up to let me know?” He suddenly shoved himself in your face.

“Oh, they are.” Winnie punctuated. “Just not from you.”

Eddie ignored her. He knew what she was doing, and he wasn’t falling under any trap that would subscribe him to that asshole attitude he surely acquired.

So, Eddie Munson’s eyes glued to yours. “Was it the type? Not your favorite? What is? Or, are you into those weird fruit bouquet things? I can get you those if you are? Hell, chocolate even-”

“No, Eddie.” You stopped his questionnaire. “I just- I just felt more comfortable riding with Winnie, s’all. Thought it’d be best. For me.”

For you. Was that enough to, at the very least, show him you did, in fact, totally, very much have a mind of your own…?

“Alright, then.” Eddie sat back, actually accepting your words. “Fair enough.”

“Plus, she just didn’t want to be stuck in a car with some pervy jackass.” Winnie smiled, mindlessly dipping her food into the condiments.

Eddie chuckled. “Y’know what? I think we kinda got off on the wrong foot here.” He smiled, as she rolled her eyes. “So, I’m here to say I’m sorry. There it is. My formal apology. See? Growth.” Eddie winked over to you.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” Winnie incredulously laughed. “For what is it exactly, Eddie, that you’re sorry for? For being an asshole? For lying? For leading me on? For having sex with me, then ditching me?”

Eddie pretended to ponder on that thought. “Yeah, sure.” He shrugged, as Winnie scoffed in disgust. “All of the above.”

“Ugh, you little, piece of shi-” Steve set the bottles of beer down.

“Hey, everything alright here?” He hurriedly intervened.

Winnie took a deep breath. “Fine, then. Apology accepted.” She ardently sat up straight. “So, how do you guys know each other?” She looked between both men.

Eddie had been quite quick to answer. “High school.” Bluntly so, too.

“Oh, you mean back when you were a loser?” Winnie smiled.

Eddie’s face dropped. “You told them?!”

Steve exhaustedly sighed, running a stressed hand through his hair. “Dude, I didn’t mean- look, it just came up in conversation, I was just trying to explain things.”

Eddie fell back with a look of unease, shaking his head in disbelief. His expression had vividly written the discontent he had with Winnie bringing up his past, it clearly being something he hadn’t wished to be disclosed to people he barely knew. “Hey, okay, look, we don't have to talk about that.” You interrupted, watching Eddie preoccupy his discomfort by mindlessly picking at a napkin. “Um, Steve said that you worked at a tattoo parlor, is that right?” You softly pried, but your endeavors fell short with his blatant choice to ignore you. “Hey, Eddie, you said you wanted us to get to know each other better, right? Well, now, we’re on a date, so we can.” Your genuine smile was enough to have him slowly eye you. Throwing his words right back into his face, he hated it.

Eddie slowly began sitting up, even choosing to discard the napkin. “Um, yeah. Alchemy Ink.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s the one down the-”

“-Street from the coffeehouse, yeah.” Eddie finished for you. “It’s, uh, why I go down there for my breaks.” He tried to shrug off.

“Oh, that notebook- the one you, uh, drew those cute, little bats in- the really good ones, is that where you draw, like, your tattoo ideas?” Damn it, you were making it really hard to stay angry with your sweet conversation. His lips twisted inward to suppress his fighting smile.

You just had to fucking remember those damn bats, huh?

“Uh, yeah, t-the beginning sketches. Just, y’know, to get some ideas flowing, get a feel of what I can work with.” God, with you staring at him, Eddie really wished he had a beer to drown his stupid thoughts. But with how much you hated him, the rational part of his brain crossed off any idea of becoming a drunken asshole on a first date.

“That’s really cool.” Fuck you for flashing that smile, Eddie thought. “You should tattoo some law scale on Steve.” You joked.

Eddie chuckled. “Already poked ‘KING’ into his ass.”

With Steve shaking his head in disbelief, Winnie gasped, as the act of hiding his face within his hands confirmed Eddie’s words. “You got the word ‘king’ tattooed on your ass?!” She laughed.

Fair play to Eddie. “Hey, hey, in my defense, we were drunk high schoolers, and it was just some shitty stick-and-poke.” He laughed. “Plus, you have no room to talk, given ‘FREAK’ is permanently on your ass!”

“Freak? Why that of all things?” You questioned through your fits of giggles.

Eddie flashed you that devilish smile that had you instantly regretting your words. “I can show you more than I can explain it to you.” And his winked was merely met with the annoyed roll of your eye.

“No, no,” Steve laughed, “it was just some bullshit high school thing.”

Luckily, any tension of hostility was able to dissolve through the bubbling laughter that naturally came around. Through the round of beers, the stories of which Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson held were animatedly shared in strides to get their dates to laugh. And to their credit, they surely did accomplish such task with recounting the juvenile trouble they encountered during their teenage years, while not stepping too deep into the territory at which Eddie was still visibly uncomfortable with. A part of you had been curious to understand the complexity as to why Eddie hated his past to such a degree. But your mouth stayed quiet, apart from minimal conversation, as you, too, would feel uneasy if anyone had brought up your past.

Which is why you grew stiff when the topic of conversation switched to how you befriended Winnie Ambrose.

“Much like Harrington and I, you guys seem quite different.” Eddie interrogated. “So, how is it exactly you guys became friends?”

“Um,” Your brain went numb with the racking thoughts that were trying to spew out of your mouth to find anything, literally anything, to not mention him, Dalton…

“Same like you, y’know, high school.” Winnie briefed concisely enough to save you. “Nothing too crazy, really. Definitely not by some third-party freshman.” She joked to derail the conversation.

But ever the curious one, Eddie hadn’t stopped with the prodding, as he became quite serious with his task of getting to know you. Especially given the circumstance that he couldn’t thoroughly do so to his preferred degree, with two people hijacking this supposed date. “So, what? Through a class? A club? Were you in any clubs, Y/N?” You hated how ardent he’d become with eye contact.

“Uh, n-no, never really was.” You stuttered out. “We just kinda met through friends, I guess. We, uh, knew the same perso- people.”

“What person?” Eddie had clocked it, and his interest had skyrocketed.

“Uh…” You swallowed thickly. “Just some ex-boyfriend s’all.” You adamantly tried to brush off with a giant swig of the beer in hand.

But, of course, with the mention of an ex-partner, Eddie was never going to let it go. “‘Ex-boyfriend?’” He smiled sickly. “Someone I’m gonna need to fight to get to you, huh?” Eddie teased. “What was that relationship like?” He relished in the invasive nature that had your squirming in your seat.

“Uh, I-I don’t, um-”

“Jeez, they broke up, and moved on. He’s irrelevant.” Winnie interrupted for your sake, as Eddie quietly scoffed to himself. “Are you currently seeing anyone else, Steve?” She turned the focus away.

“Oh, uh, no, not seriously.” Steve answered. “Just a couple’a first dates the last few weeks, but most of which we’ve agreed to just keep it as such, no second.”

Winnie flashed an overly bright smile. “See, it’s so attractive when guys actually communicate, and don’t blow off girls.” She couldn’t have been more obvious. “Right, Y/N?”

“Huh?” Suddenly, her elbow was connecting to your rib. “Ugh-um, right, right, so attractive.” You powered through the pain.

“Respectable job, communicates, respectful, and has incredible hair,” Winnie gushed, “you’re really just, like, the perfect man, right?” She turned to you.

“Mhm.” You sweetly smiled, choosing to turn your back to Eddie Munson to gaze your full attention to Steve. “Very perfect.”

Had Steve not been notified of this so-called ‘Take Eddie Munson Down’ operation, he surely would have cocked an eyebrow at the weird behavior you both were beginning to show. But the man was merely left blushing behind his hand, with a smile that held back amused laughter.

Because while Steve smiled, Eddie had scowled at your unexpected response.

It became quite evident he hadn’t been all too keen on sharing this night with others. While he understood he suggested the invitation of a stupid double date, it was only spoken as a last resort to finally get with you. And even then, it didn’t mean he had to like it. Especially, when all of sudden, any chance of a potential romance was abruptly shot down with Winnie Ambrose’s interjection to somehow turn the conversation to Steve Harrington, who you suddenly took a liking to?!

If it was the weather, suddenly you both were drooling over how Steve would “totally be, like, the hot weatherman you’d turn on the news for just to gawk over.”

If it was your studies, suddenly you’d exclaim about how Steve “looked just like that one sexy professor in the psychology department.”

If it was Eddie’s job, suddenly both of your attention was turning to Steve to detail “how hot he’d look with tattoos.”

I have tattoos, Eddie screamed in his head. His nostrils were flaring with deep breaths, as he felt his body boiling over the sight of you leaning over the table just to speak to him. By 10:02 P.M, the date had irreparably turned into some flirt fest starring Steve Harrington, and any attempts at having a one-on-one conversation with you had pissed him off to no avail, as you casually shrugged him off as some old pal.

Eddie’s knee was bouncing by the second, eyes jumping from person to person, as the conversation carried on without him. Had any of you even noticed that he hadn’t spoken a word in five minutes?

“Well, I spent most of my time working with a close buddy of mine at a movie store, just a couple blocks…” Eddie didn’t even try to listen to Steve’s backstory, he couldn't even if he wanted to. His eyes had trained themselves to your side profile, the one that hadn’t looked at him in six minutes and twenty-three seconds in counting—crazy, he knows, but that wasn’t the topic of conversation—as you were too entranced with listening to Steve’s boring story. Eddie Munson had had enough. “...But my father was really hammerin’ on me to pursue something-” The grating noise of chair legs scraping across the floor had interrupted his speaking, as Eddie made the rash decision to pull you closer.

With the close proximity, his hand secured itself around the back of neck to pull your head close, as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Finish your food, I’m taking you somewhere else.”

You froze, as Eddie cleared his throat as though nothing happened. “What’s up?” Winnie worriedly questioned.

“Nothing.” Eddie shrugged, finishing the last bit of his food. “Just taking Y/N somewhere, so we’re,” he gestured to the both of you, “wrapping this up. You lovebirds do as please.” As everyone was slowly accepting the abrupt ending of the double date, Eddie was casually reaching for his wallet to slap the table with a couple of bills. “I asked, so I’ll cover it, Harrington.”

Oh, shit. Winnie hadn’t prepared you for alone time with Eddie Munson. It’s when he strikes best!

“Yeah, thanks, man.” Steve offered in return, before turning to Winnie. “Um, would you be okay with wrapping up as well? You got quite some ride back to Indy, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.” Winnie solemnly agreed to, as she mentally cursed Eddie for ruining the only good date she’s been on in the last few weeks.

You stood from your chair, finishing the last swig of your beer that you had left, before Eddie’s hand circled around your waist. “Hey,” he came in close, “It’s been a minute, so I’m just gonna say hello to Rog, and the couple’a people I haven’t seen in a while.” You nodded along, as you took into account the stories he recounted about his days of being a barback. “Here,” his keys dangled before you, “just make yourself comfortable, okay? I won't be long. It’s just the van out front.”

With two pats on the small of your back, all you could muster was a soft, “okay,” before you shuffled to Winnie.

Watching Eddie walk away, you clutched to her arm. “He told me to go to his car, I’m internally panicking right now!” You aggressively whispered.

“Okay, just calm down and go, alright? I’ll meet you out there in a second.”

With Winnie’s words, your legs worked fast to drag you out of the bar, where the gentle breeze slapped you with the needed composure to locate the large van parked a couple feet away. Unlocked, and strapped in, you took a deep breath in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car.

Though, that deep breath was unwarrantedly invaded by the pungent smell of weed and cigarettes, and while you were sure that may have come as a speedy remedy for stress, you weren’t too pleased to be suddenly struck with it at this moment.

You jammed the key into the ignition, revving the van to life to hopefully clear the smell with the much needed air conditioning, but all you got in return was the thrashing clash of some metal band screaming into your ear from the abrasive volume Eddie chose to listen to his music.

Jumping to turn it down, you finally settled back against the car seat with a heaving chest. But like clockwork, your nerves were shot with the adrenaline of being horrified from Winnie suddenly opening the car door.

“God, Winnie, you scared me half to death!” You screeched, as she clambered into the front seat.

“Look, we have to make this quick, Steve’s using the bathroom, and who knows when Eddie’s coming back.” She underlined. “We gotta prepare you, okay? Being alone with Eddie is nothing like being on a double date with Eddie! This- this means he’s really into you!”

“O-Okay, so what now? I wait four seconds to respond?”

“‘Four seconds?’” Winnie looked at you as if you were crazy. “There’s no four seconds, you’re practically seeing Eddie Munson now! This is basically dating!”

“I don’t want to be dating, though!” You implored through round eyes.

“Well, you’re just gonna have to suck it up!” Winnie set you straight. “Just remember, confidence is key, alright? Don’t let him walk all over you!” She coached. “You be straightforward with your responses, don’t let him intimidate you.”

The panic was beginning to settle too deep. “W-Well, what if he tries to make a move? Is he going to make a move?!”

“Look, just whatever he does, keep it to a minimum. Nothing more than a kiss, alright?” You nodded in agreement. “Are you a good kisser?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Well, I-I don’t know, h-how does anyone know if they’re a good kisser?”

Winnie dramatically sighed. “Well, do you guys tell you you’re a good kisser?”

The sudden revelation hit you like a truck. “Oh, my god, I’m a bad kisser!”

“Sh! Sh!” Winnie tried to calm your trepidation. “Y/N, look, it’s really simple, okay?” She mounted over the center console to set your head straight. “It’s just effortless movements. Light touches, okay? Light.” Her hand gripped to your jaw. “Just lock onto him, nothing too crazy. Grab onto that gorgeous head of hair, but no passion just yet, you have to build it up.” Her face came closer. “Be in control, hold his gaze, it just has to be the temptation,” her breath fanned across your features, as you felt weary as to where this was heading, “just a light brush to leave him wanting more.” Suddenly, Winnie’s lips were planted against yours, and you made your truest effort to follow her guidance, until-

“Holy hell, kiss her again. Do it!”

You and Winnie instantly pulled apart to witness the gross man who stood watching in amusement in front of Eddie’s parked van. “Get out of here, you perv!” You flipped on the headlights to scare the man, who quickly scurried off, when suddenly the beaming headlights showed Eddie coming over. “Oh, shit, Eddie’s coming!”

Winnie freaked, suddenly choosing to scale over the front seats to scramble her way into the messy den that was the back area of Eddie’s car. You sat abnormally stiff once Eddie stepped foot into his van. “Hey, you okay?” He asked, as he settled himself in.

“Mhm.” You hummed out.

He took a second. “Um, look, I know it’s probably not the most ideal situation, but I promise it won’t be anything terrible.” You slowly peered at Eddie, who sat cautiously in his seat. “I-I just,” he sighed, “I just want to, at the very least, get a chance to actually speak to you. W-Without Harrington or your friend. Just you.”

“Okay.” You softly nodded to his request, which eased a deep breath from chest. “That’s okay.”

A small smile etched upon Eddie's face, and you hadn’t decided whether to take it innocently or sinisterly. With Eddie Munson, it was almost always the latter. With your approval, Eddie pulled out of the parking lot—unbeknownst to him, with Winnie in tow—to head along the long stretch of highways that traveled along the breadth of Hawkins, Indiana.

Though, unfortunately, forgotten within the walls of The Hideout, Steve Harrington was flinging his hands dry from water due to the lack of paper towels that were never refilled within the men’s restroom, as he sought his way outside to a dead parking lot. “Win- Winnie?” He turned about. “Eddie? Anyone?”

Eddie’s fingers slowly turned the volume up of his radio. “Did you have a good time, at least?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, I quite liked the bar; a lot less crowded, which made it more enjoyable than the one from Saturday night.”

“Yeah?” He lilted. “Not really into that scene, huh?”

“No.” You chuckled. “Definitely not, but it is yours, no?” You interrogated back, almost accusatory in Eddie’s eyes. “You go there a lot, I’m assuming?” Spoken as if to find a definitive reason to not let this “date” prolong any further than tonight.

“I, well, um, wouldn’t say a lot.” He searched his way around the words. “Just when needed. For the band.”

“Huh, okay.” Eddie thought you relented. “Not the best reputation with that band though, right?” You smiled so sickly, Eddie was scoffing out a laugh.

He hadn’t seen such feistiness from you yet, he was honestly relishing in it. “We just- we just like to have fun, s’all. Don’t you? Unless you’re, like, some total buzzkill.” He smirked back.

“No, not a buzzkill.” You protested. “Just have self-discipline, you know? Or, wait, do you not know?”

Eddie kissed his teeth with a dimpling grin that was becoming permanent on his face with. “Oh, no, I know.” His finger aggressively tapped against his steering wheel. Because, truthfully, if he hadn’t known, he would have immediately pulled the car over, and shut you up the way he knew best… and, well, did best. “Just, y’know, like to live my life to the fullest with everything accomplished.”

“And everyone apparently, huh?”

Eddie’s knuckles were fusing white with the tight grip he clutched. “You’re walking on thin fucking ice here, Y/N.” He huffed a laugh from his buzzing body.

“Why?” You feigned. “I thought you liked having fun?”

Oh, Eddie Munson was so fucked.

Winnie Ambrose couldn’t have been more proud with the dedication shown by you, as she pushed through the pain of holding back her laughter that threatened to spill with every bump Eddie carelessly passed. She wrestled around the displayed blankets that she felt icky even touching, wondering what unfortunate crusted stains she may have been laying upon. Winnie shifted uncomfortably, as she reached beneath her to wedge out a bra that slung from under. Winnie silently gasped. “That dog.” She mouthed, until her nimble fingers suddenly felt the cushion of thick padding that invaded the bra.

Oh, great… it was her’s, she shamefully tucked the bra under her arm.

Lover’s Lake had been nothing but a ten minute drive for you and Eddie Munson, but somehow, the tension you both left untouched with silence seemed to make it last an eternity, as you both suffocated in the teasing friction that consumed the air between you two.

You peered out the window, watching worriedly as Eddie took a turn into a wooded path that left you viewing nothing but dark trees. “It won’t be anything terrible, huh?” You hid your anxiety through forced giggles.

“Yup.” Eddie did little to denote any further. “There’ll be a time when you’ll finally trust me.”

You head slumped against the cold glass. “Yeah, doubt it.” You whispered to yourself, unaware of the smile that ate at his face, as he quietly heard your words.

Much to your dismay, Eddie Munson proved you wrong—though proving your right could have left your name attached to some true crime murder case—as his van parked along the clearing that showcased such a scenic view of a sparkling lake that reflected the crystal tranquility of the moon and stars. Too enthralled, you hadn’t taken notice of Eddie leaving the car, until he approached your side to guide you out. “Is this too terrible for you?” You shook your head. “Perfect, then. One of my favorite places, in fact, so it would have pissed me off if it was.” With the slam of the car door, Winnie peeked up from her hiding place, watching as you and Eddie began walking down west.

“Do you come here often?” You pondered, taking in the scenery, as your shoes sunk into the mush of muddy grass and moss.

“When I lived here, yeah.” Eddie hopped over strewn branches. “For being so shitty, I gotta admit, this place sure does have some nice hiding spots.

“You gonna take me to see all your secret hideouts?” You peered up at him.

Eddie smiled. “When we get there, absolutely.”

“If.” You insisted.

“When.” He retaliated.

You rolled your eyes at the tongue-in-cheek attitude he liked to flaunt around, where he found nothing but mirth with every irk he managed to tick out of you. Silence settled through your stroll, until Eddie decided to break it with his unheard of vacillated voice. “So, uh, hey, you said you enjoyed tonight.” You nodded along. “Was that because of Harrington? Did you, like, I don’t know, like Steve?”

His hands balled behind his back, as his peripheral glued to your face intently. “Oh, yeah, I liked Steve, he was really nice!” You sincerely spoke, as his teeth began sinking into the cracked despair of his bottom lip.

“Oh,” was all he could proffer in return.

“I feel like it’s my duty to now push Winnie to continue seeing him.” You had no clue how much your giggles eased his mind. “He seems like he could be really nice to her, very sweet he is.”

Eddie huffed out a heavy sigh. “Y-Yeah, it’s nice those guys could hit it off… like us.” He smiled up close to your face, which had you stopping in your tracks.

“Are we hitting it off, Eddie?”

Standing before you, Eddie kissed his teeth with a grin. “I’d say we are, no? Got you out on a date, actually speaking to me, conversing well.”

“Okay.” You simply noted, continuing your walk, as he scurried to follow.

“‘Okay?’” Eddie repeated with the need of elaboration. “I don’t like that I don’t know what you’re thinking, Y/N.”

“Oh, maybe we are hitting it off, I feel the exact same way about you.” You joked through your soft laughter.

“No, no, I say what I’m thinking.” Eddie maintained his stance.

You incredulously laughed in return. “But Eddie, everything you say has quite the history of being a lie.” Your reprisal disseminated over any argument he was willing to divulge to support himself. Eddie Munson could only laugh at himself. How stupid of him to believe he could weasel some smooth talking to a girl, who quite literally witnessed him being kicked out of her apartment for being an asshole. “Kinda got my proof with Winnie-”

“Y’know,” he immediately interjected, “I think… you rely too much on her opinion.”

“And I think you’re a jackass.” You defensively snapped back. You hadn’t even expected it to come out so rash.

Eddie mockingly laughed in your face. “Oh, yeah? You think I’m a jackass? Alright, I’ll be a jackass. What’s up with that ex-boyfriend of yours you got so weird about? He a jackass, too? Hurt you real bad? Did something to make you lose some bullshit trust, so now you rely on your friend to help you through everything?

You loathed Eddie Munson. “Screw this.” You scoffed back, choosing to turn away from him, and make your steady way back to the van.

But he had taken a hold of your hand, forcing you back to his vicinity. “Hey! We’re not done here.”

“Okay, fine! What’s up with your past here? You got really worked up over Winnie bringing that up. And I tried to be nice, and not talk about it, but since you’re such an asshole, I truly don’t care anymore.” You retorted. “Steve mentioned how much people hated you here, and honestly I can see why! You are so conceited, and full of yourself. You’re not considerate of anyone’s feelings, and god, you just say the meanest things. I’m pretty sure most people are happy you left this town, since it meant never having to be near you again.”

No longer was this the banter of any light teasing. Eddie had flung your hand from his, as he stared you down. “You don’t have a single fucking clue as to what you’re talking about.” His heavy breathing had to be manually controlled by his self-control, as his aggressive breath blew into your face.

“Oh, what, but you do?!” You derided so scornfully right back at him.

Nothing but both of your heavy breathing could be heard against the empty lake front. With such intense eye contact that neither of you ever planned on breaking, Eddie was suddenly drawn in with temptation, and inched his head close against yours, as you lured yourself in…

Until your hands slapped against his chest. “What the hell are you doing?” You shoved him away.

Your push had snapped some sense into Eddie, and his mouth had fallen open with the words that couldn’t be found, as he held his chest with a sincere hand. And it only worsened his case for a cocky grin to creep upon his face towards you. “You so wanted to kiss me.”

Your mouth dropped at the absurdity of his ridiculing laughter. “Are you insane?! No, I didn’t!” You’d rather drown in Lover’s Lake than ever let him think so. “Christ, would you just get off your high horse for two seconds, and learn that not everyone wants you?”

You stomped on your heel, walking away from him once more. “I don’t have a fucking horse!” God, you could slap the stupidity out of him. “Hey, alright, c’mon, I shouldn’t have done that! Y/N!” His hand latched back onto yours. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Eddie turned you around. “My dad was some absent crook, who ruined my life with his schemes, and everyone in this shit town fucking took it out on me, alright? So, sorry, but it pissed me when you fucking said that shit.” Your brows furrowed at the sudden dump of information he expelled onto you. All while Eddie simply waited. “Well, go on.”

“What?” You questioned.

“Your turn.” He made it seem so obvious. “You go, say something about that little boyfriend of yours.”

“W-Wha- no, I’m not gonna-”

Eddie dragged his hands over his face. “Oh, my god, just do it!”

“Fine!” You exasperated. “Yes, Eddie, he was a jackass. After two years, he just laid it all out that he never loved me like I love-” Your mouth clamped shut, as your face hid away with humiliation. “Look, I really don’t want to get into this.” You tried to get away, but Eddie had held back your movements.

“Alright, so we won’t get into this.” He proclaimed. “What’s your favorite color?”

“What? What are you doing?” You tried to walk around him.

But Eddie was there to keep his pace with you, only to fervently reiterate, “Just like you said, not getting into this. What’s your favorite color?”

You abruptly stopped with a defeated sigh. “Green.”

“Cool, mine’s black. Surprising, huh?” He sardonically smiled. You shook your head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a tiny chuckle. “Alright, let’s see what else… oh! What’s your favorite food? And I already know you eat meat, so don’t fuck with me with that.”

That, unfortunately, had you quietly giggling, but only at your own humor. “Um, I don’t know, uh, pesto pasta.”

“Ooh.” Eddie snapped his fingers. “I love buttered noodles, close enough, huh?” Christ, that got a laugh from you. “Hell, I’ll even make us some for our second date.”

“We are not going on a second date.” You chuckled, as you began walking away.

Eddie was quick to follow along your steps. “Sure we are. How else am I gonna find out your favorite hobby?” You had to give him credit, it was quite the perfect invitation for a conversation.

“I like puzzles.”

Eddie snorted. “Okay, grandma, I can get down with that.” He smiled.

“Oh, shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I know your favorite hobby.” You spoke matter-of-factly.

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie grinned. “And what’s that, Y/N?”

“Dungeons and Dragons, you nerd.” You laughed, as Eddie shook his head in disbelief. It wasn’t exactly the number one thing he wanted women of his interest to know; not exactly the greatest chick magnet out there.

Eddie feigned anger. “Fucking Harrington. The mouth on that one.”

Though, with complete transparency, if airing out his so-called embarrassing secrets was needed in order to keep you happy, he was ready to dish out the time his uncle found a number of women’s underwear when visiting his apartment in Indianapolis. Even sat him down with a heart-to-heart to remind Eddie that he’d love him no matter who he was.

It was cripplingly mortifying to notify his uncle that he, Eddie Munson, was, in fact, just a whore.

Winnie Ambrose had mindlessly pulled apart all the split ends she managed to find in her head of hair, before she exasperatedly sighed with a heavy fall against the van floor.

It felt like an eternity waiting for you to return. She’d only hoped you’d come with your dignity, and not as another notch on Eddie’s belt. It was only when her entertainment was finally being satisfied through her nosy curiosity of ruffling through Eddie’s belongings did the passenger door finally open.

Winnie laid so stiffly, as she heard you mutter a “thank you” to Eddie’s chivalry. Your eyes briefly connected for the couple seconds it took for Eddie to reach the driver side, with you nodding to the consensus of the thrown up thumbs up Winnie proffered.

“Ready to head home?” Eddie asked.

“Mhm, yeah.” You politely answered.

The forty minute drive to Indianapolis was thus embarked upon, with Winnie having to endure the detailed lore behind Eddie the Head, when one- one, singular Iron Maiden song played. Where Winnie rolled her eyes, you were quite taken aback with how much information he was ready to elaborate upon, just because it was “totally sick that we share the same name!” In the wise words of Eddie Munson.

Apparently his only motivation to learn anything.

Rolling into the parking lot of your apartment complex, the sky thundered with the trudging storm the spring season had welcomed.

Eddie had turned off the rumbling ignition of his car. “Um, w-would you mind just, like, walking with me?”

Desperately wanting to jump over to your good side, Eddie had no issue with quickly agreeing to your request. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

Winnie slowly moved to the back double doors that would become her escape route. With Eddie whisking you away, you subtly peered back to catch glimpses of Winnie inching her legs out of the car, holding her breath, as every movement caused the old thing to creak from the rust.

“Okay, um, I know things weren’t necessarily ideal, but I still really enjoyed being with you, and um, I’m just really glad you endured staying with me for this long.” He sniffed out a laugh that you followed along with.

“Y-Yeah, um, I think everything managed to work out okay in the end.” You softly smiled.

Eddie’s hand found its way to the back of his neck, a classic move that not only let him appear nervous for your sympathy, but tactfully allowed his muscle to bulge for your pleasure. “I’ve gotten quite the understanding that you’re not exactly the type of girl to kiss on the first date… much to my dismay.” He dramatically sighed to make you laugh. “So, Y/N,” your name rolled off his tongue so languidly, “actually give me a call, because I’m not above tracking you down for a second date. But I mean it, have a great night, darling.”

Slamming the door behind her, Winnie’s breath hitched at sudden cause that halted her escape plan. The heavy door closed on the damn maxi skirt you suggested she wear! “Oh, no. No, no, no, no!” She pulled against the threads that refused to stretch any longer.

Watching her struggle, you panicked with how quickly Eddie was about to turn away, and your mind unanticipatedly resulted to your hand turning his face towards your own.

Nose bumping, breath fanning, you stared into his eyes. “Um,” your throat went dry. Eddie took your unwarranted invitation with his lips coming down slowly to ever so gently graze against yours.

“C’mon,” yank! “Let,” yank! “Go,” rip!

Winnie’s skirt clung from Eddie’s back doors, as she quickly scrambled to cover her exposed self. Seeing her scurry into the gated pool area of the complex, you suddenly diverged from the kiss, planting the tiniest peck to the corner of his mouth so quickly. “Okay, um, thanks for tonight, Eddie!” You hurriedly began walking away. “Have a good rest of your night!” You waved, while Eddie stood stunned.

Utterly frozen.

“Wasn’t even my date, and he still managed to get me out of my skirt.” Winnie cursed herself.

A fluttering smile flushed on his face with heat, as his fingers graced on the phantom touch of your lips still lingering on your face.

His confidence strides led him back to his van, as he felt on top of the world. There wasn’t any girl Eddie Munson couldn’t get, and his ego was relishing in the extra boost from your kiss. But with it came the frightening reality that he wanted more than what you were giving.

He wanted you.

Revving up his engine, there wasn’t anything stopping in the way of Eddie Munson. Not even Winnie Ambrose’s skirt that slapped along the asphalt of the road with each foot Eddie drove up.

Your mind refused to focus on anything, but your apartment door, as one thought about Eddie was going to make your head spiral out of control. You wielded yourself to swallow away those nauseating butterflies that were exploding in your tummy.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. You hated Eddie Munson.

“And my car is still stuck at some dingy bar. Ugh, I hate Eddie Munson!” Winnie exclaimed.

There was only one thing for certain: Eddie Munson must die!

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | If I forgot anyone who asked to be tagged, please let me know, so I can include you in future chapters. This goes for anyone who wishes to not be tagged, just inform me! And, of course, everyone 18+ is welcome to be included <3

It would also help greatly if anyone who asked to be tagged would reblog my work :) @darknesseddiem @tlclick73 @ezzynf @hereforshmut @babez-a-licious @madelynraemunson @nope-thanks @catherinnn @sunshineandwitchery @meowforluv @bellalillyrose @eddieslooneymoonie @honey-flustered @therealgothamguardianfr @fishwithtitz @corrodedcoffincumslut @ohmeg @superas1an @maraudersforlife2005

I sincerely apologize for any user that wouldn't tag, I'm not sure how to fix that :(

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #revenge is a dish best served cold

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msfantasy-comics · 11 months

Text

The Perfect Match

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: A head cannon on how you’re the perfect match for Bruce.

Warning: Established relationships

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Bruce had always considered the concept of a perfect match to be a feeble notion. The idea that a someone could be perfect and perfectly compliment one’s self was simply illogical and just not possible.

But that’s the thing about hypotheticals, they’re just theories until proven otherwise. Bruce can distinguish five instances on when he recognised you to be his perfect match.

Intelligence:

You weren’t a genius capable of rattling off theories and solving impossible equations. Not by any means. You were, however, incredibly intelligent when it comes to people and making them feel important.

It wasn’t a super power or psychological trickery. It was that you listened to people and ask them questions about their hobbies or family.

It was the way that you leaned in as if you were keen to hear what that person had to say.

It was the way you smile softly when people start to babble off in excitement as you reciprocate the conversation

Whilst you didn’t fully comprehend quantum physics or the engineering to Bruce Wayne’s degree

You sat there happily indulging Bruce as he discusses a new equation he solved

It was the way you made him feel like he could talk about anything without judgement or without your eyes wondering elsewhere in boredom.

Bruce: “Anyway, you probably have more important things to do.”

Y/n: “Don’t be silly. You’re just as important. Go on, finish what you were saying.”

Independence:

Bruce dreaded needy women who are utterly incapable of being self-sufficient. Who required rescuing and constant entertainment like a puppy.

Bruce: “I have an emergency work trip for an unspecified amount of time. I probably won’t be able to contact you too much. Will you be okay without me?”

Y/n *acting like a damsel in distress*

Y/n: “Oh no! I’m being abandoned in the biggest mansion with a butler, a library and a black Amex card. What could one do with one’s self? What a travesty!”

Bruce would return from his two week trip excited to see you again after not being in contact the whole time.

Only you weren’t at the mansion at 4pm on a Tuesday.

Bruce *calling your phone*

Y/n: “Hi honey! I missed you so much!”

Bruce: “Come home and show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Y/n: “What? I finish work in an hour, surely you can survive 60 more minutes without me- oh I have to go, I’ll see you soon my love!”

Supportive:

Bruce didn’t make it to your anniversary dinner.

He didn’t even have a chance to call you and cancel.

He exited the bat cave feeling utterly guilty for abandoning you on such an important occasion.

Bruce felt utterly defeated. A failure of a father. Batman got into a one on one fist fight with Red-Hood, attempting to save the Jokers life, only for his son to forsake himself. Now he had to face his failures as a husband.

Opening the door he sees you laying in bed, scrolling away at your phone.

As soon as you noticed him you tossed the phone and made a mad dash, pulling him into a bear hug.

Y/n: “Honey, I’m so proud of you. Being there when your son needed you most. You’re such a good man. Don’t be hard on yourself, remember that Jason is a grown man who made his decision.”

Pulling Bruce to bed, you pull him into a tight hold and continue to comfort him.

Bruce really appreciated that you didn’t bring up his absence.

Bruce: “I missed our -“

Y/n: ��You didn’t miss anything. Your with me now aren’t you? Happy anniversary my beloved.”

Emotionally Stable:

Damian was over your nagging.

Y/n: “Damian, you need to get more sleep. I’m worried your burning yourself out.”

Y/n: “When was the last time you had a proper meal? You can’t survive off burgers alone you know.”

Y/n: “When was the last time you saw Jon? You have to maintain your friendships or else they fall apart.”

Y/n: “Stop having these energy drinks! It’s basically poison for your body - have you had any water today? You look dehydrated!”

You snatched the can out of his hand and threw it in the bin.

Damian lost his absolute shit.

Damian: “Enough with your incessant criticism!You’re getting on my nerves!”

Crosses his arms over his chest and looks off in irritation.

Bruce stands frowning behind him, ready to give his son the scolding of a life time.

But instead your laughter booms across the bat cave.

You find Damian’s little outburst amusing and adorable rather than rude and hurtful.

Y/n: “You’re right D, I’m sorry, I’ll lay off you a bit.”

You’d pull him into that tight hug he says he hates but he always leans into your comforting hold.

Y/n: “You boys be careful tonight, I’ll see you both in the morning”

#Batman x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #batman imagines #Bruce Wayne imagines #bruce wayne x y/n #batman x y/n #bruce wayne x you #Batman x you #dc imagine #dc x reader #batboys imagine #batboys #bruce wayne x reader

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honeyshiddendesire · 2 months

Text

He’s So Mean 🥵

Warnings: rough sex! Vaginal sex! Praise & Degradation! Choking! Oral sex!(m)! Daddy Kink! Dom/Sub! Chokehold! Doggy style! Rough oral(m)! Huge Size difference!!! Obviously unrealistic but oh well!!

18+ Minors Do Not Enter !! 18+

Summary: Thinking of the Meanies of One Piece 🤭🥵😮‍💨🤤🥴 might be self indulgent who knows lol 🤭

Characters : Zoro! Eustass! Doflamingo! Akainu! Sir Crocodile! Smoker! Law! Whitebeard! Katakuri! X Female! Reader

*New Author's Note: Copied from my previous blog! I love when I find my old works!! Thank you to everyone who reblogged all my old stuff cause I love finding it all !! Thought I was gonna have to rewrite this whole thing again lol so I'm super happy that I found it *

Zoro ⚔️ & Eustass 💀

The ones that have you in a head lock as you sit on their cock, their lips nipping your ear as they give you brutal encouragement.

“Love fucking this pretty cunt you got!” His voice growling in your ear making your cunt drool even more. Juices dripping down your folds to land on his heavy balls. “Sloppy ass pussy.” He groans nipping at the lobe while you whine with watery eyes.

Lips sucking under your ear softly were a total contrast to his tight hold, your gelled nails clawing at his iron grip. “Even this cunt knows who the fuck it belongs to huh?”

“Y-yes~!” The position he had you in was tight but not as tight as the way your walls held onto his massive cock. “Uh! Puh~lease~!” The appendage hitting deeper than you ever thought possible, making you choke out whimpers. “S-so go~od~!”

“Damn right my dick is good.” He’d laugh with a wide grin pressing against the side of your face making you whine in the back of your throat. “But your pussy ain’t so bad either.”

“Fu~ckme~!” You sobbed out in bliss at the feel of his muscled legs pumping up into your sopping heat. The sounds your soaked cunt made were embarrassing to your ears but silently you loved it. You couldn’t believe how wet he was making you.

“Already am. Ha! Look~I fucked you silly!” He barked out a laugh before clicking his teeth, “Awe so cute baby~” He tauntingly cooed, making your eyes roll back thigh’s quivering. Both cumming so deeply to the vicious taunts and your wet walls.

Doflamingo 🦩 & Akainu 🌋

Or the ones that give the meanest back shots. Ass so far up in the air with your hair pulled in a makeshift ponytail due to the tight grip of their fists pulling.

“Fucking whore.” He says through gritted teeth as his other arm is pinning your arms behind your back holding you in place.

Rough lips leaving harsh love bites against your neck. “You’d better take every inch.” His voice raspy as his cock bullies your cervix like no tomorrow. “Oooh fuck~” You’d whimper cutely when he’d lift your head up so he could look at you.

Loving the way your mouth hung open with drool hanging sloppily like the fucked out whore he wanted you to be. “Perfect.”

That’s the face he loved to see when he came but not yet- no, he never rushed. So fucking your gooey walls deeper and harder, he kept up his pace. Your ass rippling with each pound of his strong hips, your body screaming at the weight of him on top of you.

Caging you in like a tower of strength that he used to split your pussy open. “Making such a mess. You dirty slut just look at you. Ugh~ It’s incredible.”

“Cumming~!” You’d whimper making him laugh as he’d tug on you hair harder. Biting at your lower lip making you hiss before he gave a devious grin.

“Who said you could?” The laugh he’d give seeing your pout was bone chilling yet it made your pussy flutter with desire.

Wetness pooling out making you moan and scream even more, his cock punching your stomach so sweetly. He was a cruel man but he left you a trembling puddle underneath him.

Body bruised and ass red at the end of the night but it was worth it every single time when you heard the whisper to you, “Rest love.”

Sir Crocodile 🐊, Law & Smoker 💨

What about those scowling meanies that are actually complete teases playing daddy behind closed doors.

Grumpy pout or stoic expression completely erased and switched to something of total mischief. Lips spilling out sweet praise as he pressed your legs to your chest, the strokes were ridiculously deep but torturously slow.

Gasping and begging for more you lay underneath them, back bent so far your ankles we’re practically by your ears. “Daddy~” You’d whimper for the first time with tears leaking from your equally shocked eyes.

“What was that?” He’d taunt you, making you bit your lip, hands coming to cover your face in embarrassment.

With quick reflexes though he’d quickly pin them above your head. “Hey princess~” He would coo back looking down with a wide grin that had you clench his cock tighter. “Oh don’t be like that. Come on-Shit! Say it again, doll.” He would groan out and to most it sounded like a beg but it was far from it.

Using his other hand to rub insanely fast at your sensitive nub causing your legs to shake, “Uh! Fuck! Oh -fuckyes-! Daddy~!” Your screams were stolen from your throat by the feral assault his fingers were committing. It made you dizzy and fall in love, going cock drunk with each deep stroke.

“That’s my pretty girl. Takin’ daddy’s dick so good~” He’d moan as his eyes drifted down to the sweet cream your pussy was dripping out for him. Collecting some on his thumb to rub faster on your swollen clit.

“Look at your cunt swallowing me whole.” Hips suddenly taking on a more frenzied speed at the gooey contraction your walls were making. Milking his lengthy cock that had you whimpering and panting for air.

Eyes glazed with the sight of your tight walls sucking him in, knees to your chest squishing your jiggly breasts together. “Fuck sweetheart you take daddy so fucking well.”

“Ah! It’s s-so big~fuck~!” You whine trying to look in his eyes but fail as your eyes roll back with a loud moan. “Yeah I know you can handle it though.”

“Right there daddy! Pleasepleaseplease~daddy!” You’d babble with broken moans and screams making him chuckle.

“Daddy’s girl likes it right there huh?” He’d smirk as he’d lean down to capture your lips, relishing in the way you squirmed at the deeper angle. A scream flooding his mouth that he ate, hips drilling you so amazingly deeper than before.

Leaning back slightly after the heated kiss he grins down with a promise, “Well then just relax and take daddy’s cock like my good girl? I’ll make you feel real~ nice.”

Whitebeard & Katakuri

Or the insanely sweet meanies, the unrealistically gigantic ones that took weeks to slowly get your body used to them.

“T-to~Ah!-mu-uh-ch~!” You’d croak out with a hoarse throat that had the man smile fondly moving hair from your face.

“Just a few more okay. You’re taking it really well dear.” A soft smile of reassurance making you literally melt in his touch, “Oooh cumming~!”

“Very good Y/N. Very good ~” Smiling proudly at the way you were squirting on two of his insanely large fingers and palm.

The day you even gave them head was a whirlwind that lead to your throat being wrecked. Fingers tangled deeply in your locks as saliva drenched your face and chest.

“Oh dear c-careful love.” He warned as he resisted the urge to thrust into your tight heat. He could probably kill you with it and that’s a chance he’d never take.

You wanted to bring him pleasure hell you wanted to feel something more but he was so…

Huge

Licking up the entire length with cute eyes, wrapping both hands and pumping his length as best you could had him moaning deeply.

“Easy little one.” He warned when he noticed you trying to hover above him. “No way.” He’d tell you and you’d respect it and continue.

Sucking and licking making him hiss at every gag and gurgle your tight throat was doing. Trying to swallow every last drop his cock gave when he started to cum but nope.

Hair, face, tits, were drenched and it made your pussy the same. You wanted him so bad. But you also adored his care to keep you safe.

So after more time you finally got to take the tip which had you screaming all night long. You felt amazing to him even without him being fully inside of your tight heat. “Taking it well love”

“Breath- that’s it little one.” He would coo to you when he first entered again but deeper with a new angle.

“Ah~! Fuckfuckfuck! Fu~uhh~ll!” You'd moan and the gargantuan man would smile as he rubbed at the bulge in your tummy. “Look at you~”

It didn’t matter how big you were they were bigger and they gained confidence in the fact they were so large.

Cock protruding your stomach unbelievably so, but it had you drooling. Giant meanies who can’t even kiss you cause they’re so big.

Fingers in your mouth as a way to send their love to you, knowing if they bent over they’d wreck you. Though the thought was weirdly tempting.

“It-bwig~uh~!” You’d slur sloppily around their thick veiny fingers you loved. Kissing the tips of his finger in your mouth while a couple of inches of his cock kissed your cervix.

“I know little one, I know.” He would smile at your pleading eyes wanting to cum, silently begging him to take you there.

Large hands engulfing your breasts and kneading the flesh making you whimper around his digits. “Cum with me Y/N. Go on little one.”

Hips shallowly rolling into your spongy cunt that threatened to pull his girth inside. It was a tight fit, and impossible fit, but it felt great.

Legs shaking as your pussy squirt over his monstrous cock, screams of his name leaving you. Choking on moans and his large fingers as he drowned your pussy.

Cunt overwhelmed and filled to the brim with sticky cum as you quivered with rolled eyes. How could any man resist?

“Ah~!T-o much!” Cries would fill the room as his hardness would push his cum further into you.

Going deeper thanks to your relaxed walls and his copious amounts of spunk. “I know love, but you feel so good I know you can take just another inch.”

Thumb caressing your cheek sweetly with eyes full of love that had you nodding your head rapidly. “Y-yes please!” You’d whine making him smile.

“I love you so much.” …okay…

Maybe he wasn’t so mean.

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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

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TF141 + König help you move

Here’s some backstory (bc this is incredibly self-indulgent send help): you take everything upon yourself, plan everything down to the last detail so you just wind up overwhelming yourself and then you’re just running on fumes the entire time, you are not at peace until you’ve moved into the new place, you are a ball of stress aaaand go:

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He’s very much the type to watch you go, he knows you’re overloading yourself and he wants to step in but he also knows you need to learn how to ask for help

That’s not to say he’s completely hands off, he’s listening to every word when you review your checklist, he’s helping you pack- everything from assembling the boxes to sealing them when they’re full

He’s taken it upon himself to make sure you eat a proper meal

“What’s this?” You ask as you mute your phone while on hold with the utilities company for your new place,

“It’s breakfast. Eat.”

“I already-”

“Iced coffee isn’t food, love.”

Bet

So he’ll take to cooking or grabbing your favorite take out

If you’re worried you forget something, he’ll go down the list with you, going so far as to grab your notebook and review it with you

He encourages you to sort through your belongings and figure out what you want to keep and what you want to give away

His rule: if I haven’t seen you use it, wear it, read it, or touch it in the last six months, it’s going in the giveaway box (save for stuff with sentimental value)

Surprisingly enough, it helps reduce how much you have to pack and you couldn’t be more thankful

All in all, 10/10

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He’s so much fun to be around

He knows you’re taking on too much and he’ll tell you as much

“I’m fine, Johnny, I just like these things done a certain way. And when the order gets messed up, I have a panic attack.”

“Well, then explain how you’d like it done, and I’ll see to it that it stays that way, sound good?”

He’s so understanding god bless

He does everything possible to make the process stress free, from putting on music while you’re packing and cleaning, to being in charge of snacks

He helps divide the labor very seamlessly, he does all the physical stuff (packing, cleaning, moving furniture, etc) and he leaves the logistics to you, (utilities, new apt, address change, etc)

If at any point you feel like it’s still too much, he’ll jump in without hesitation

Just tell him where you’re struggling and what your next task is and he’ll gladly take over

You point, he’ll shoot (or pack, in this case)

John Price:

Like??

Good luck trying to take control of the whole thing

He’s way ahead of you and doesn’t let you do a single thing on your own, that’s not true, he’ll let you do things on your own but not all of it, you get the idea

Man’s a Captain for god’s sake, he definitely has a system to make the process easier

He makes sure you start the process sooner rather than later to avoid scrambling last minute

Before even buying boxes, he’ll sit down with you to come up with a checklist for things to do and what order to pack your place in

He’s very encouraging throughout the whole process

“Phew, almost an hour later and I was successfully able to transfer my car insurance.” You sighed slumping against the table, practically throwing your phone to the other side of the room

“You’re doin’ great, love, keep it up.” He comes up behind you to rub your shoulders and rub your back encouragingly

He’s with you every step of the way

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

I love him but I can see it as being kind of chaotic lmao but still fun!

You better believe he’s got Animal Crossing music on loop

He claims it’ll help you get into the cleaning/packing frame of mind and son of a bitch he’s right

He sets a hard limit of one to two things a day, so if you finished packing up your living room sooner than you expected and now you want to move on to your bedroom, too damn bad

He’ll physically stop you lol

“You already did enough, babe, it’s time to rest.”

“I feel fine, Ky, I can keep going.”

“Trust me darlin’, take it easy, you’re doing great.”

Definitely the type to give you a treat to help keep you motivated, or even start your day with a treat

You’re dreading calling the new internet company to set up your new wifi? Well guess what? He’s treating you to coffee and a cinnamon roll from your favorite cafe to help motivate you

You’re dead tired after packing up all your belongings in your room, dinner is your pick babe, whatever you want, yes, Taco Bell is perfectly ok

König:

Very good at following directions and equally good at being perceptive and knowing when to step in without being asked

He knows you have a habit of taking on more than you can handle but he also knows your tells just as well

Increased irritability, you’re more tired than usual, you’re not eating as much, drinking more coffee than you normally do, jittery leg, trouble sleeping, he knows you babe, he sees you

So he does everything he can to prevent you from getting to that point

If you’re complaining about packing all your books, don’t worry about it, he’s on it

You’re stressed about cleaning as you pack, no need, he’s already coming behind you with Clorox wipes, a broom, and a swiffer mop

He encourages you to offload some of your tasks to him, insisting that he knows how you want it done and can do it accordingly

“Schatz, you have so much on your plate already, let me handle renting the truck and getting the supplies, we’ll go over what you want to do first, and I’ll help you do it, ok?”

At the end of the night when your limbs ache from exhaustion, he gently taking your hands in his and massaging the tension away, placing little kisses as he goes

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #konig x reader #könig x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii

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badwitch-if · 2 months

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OG DEMO + AU DEMO

**a note about the demo that won the vote**

Magic is all too real and witches reign supreme.

This is a story of excess & indulgence. Luxury & depravity. Lust & love. Horror & debauchery.

But mostly it's a story of rediscovering your inner witch.

Bad Witch is set in a matriarchal, gothic universe eerily similar to our own, where magic runs the world. And at its core, it is a love letter to the incredibly strong and vibrant friendships that we forge in our youth, and how they ultimately shape the people we become.

Witxhes dominate the upper echelons of society, and magic has seeped into every facet of day-to-day life, for witches and humans alike. Humans were relegated to a lower class of living and as witches tend to be quite opulent & over indulgent [and more often than not revelling in their own personal vices], the bougie Season of the Witch began. Witching Society flourished and quickly overtook over the world, trickling down to influence even those without magic.

SO WILL YOU BE A BAD WITCH, OR A GOOD WITCH?

You were born to one of the most ancient and thus, important witching families; the only child of a famous mother and an even more infamous grandmother. Your ancestors were among the very first witches to lead the revolution, desperate to create a world where their children would never again die by human hands.

Your childhood was rather lonely and spent under the tutelage of the worlds best witches and academics, whilst your mother did her best to ignore your existence whenever it didn’t directly benefit her. And so years later you would often joke that your life really began once you were accepted into Ariadne Academy, the premiere school for exceptionally gifted Witxhes.

You were placed in a coven with eight of your peers; girls and boys who would quickly become your family, until it was almost like you couldn’t remember a time before them. They shared your all-consuming hunger for magic and knowledge and experiences, traits that made your coven [nicknamed the Silverlakers] an unstoppable force within the Demonhall arena. Everything was going so perfectly until it suddenly burned down around you, leaving your coven a husk of its former self.

Aaand this is currently where the stories splinter off.

OG DEMO — In the OG demo, your coven is still somewhat intact. MC’s feelings towards them may or may not have changed, but on the whole, the Silverlakers are still functioning as the overachieving badasses they were at the academy. They’re still your best friends, your soulmates, your lovers. You love them and they most definitely love you — it’s just one big lovefest.

As a master alchemist you tediously work through trials of your newest potion while still coasting off the success of your last serum, the wildly popular Moon Juice. The story focuses on the unnaturally strong bond that exists between the remaining Silverlakers, and the powerful magic you’ve wrought because of that. The incredibly deep but complicated friendships that you built are maintained to this day, and still just as co-dependent... or have they been making you feel stifled or claustrophobic?

You can choose how your relationship with Ash progressed post-breakup. Was it messy and dramatic, or did you keep going back to them, again and again? Have you and Ori been just the bestest friends all this time, or have things gotten a bit awkward?

AU DEMO — In the AU demo, your coven was broken following the loss of one of your own. You all went your own ways and everything that you shared was left by the wayside. You’ve spent the better part of a decade running away from your Silver Lake family, the only real home you ever knew. But now, against all of your better judgements, your returning to York. Only for a few days, of course. A couple weeks, tops.

You haven’t returned since you absconded after graduation, when you used a somewhat controversial but entirely contrived excuse for your disappearance. And as if The Fates themselves had seen to it, you once again find yourself thrown together with the other witches formerly known as Silverlakers. Their reactions to your return are not at all what you had expected, and you’re left second-guessing what actually happened all those years ago.

No matter how deep of a rift was left between your coven, Ori was the one who really refused to give up on you. In their very unique way, they practically strong-armed you into maintaining some kind of contact. Of all your former covenmates, you are hands down closest to Ori. Your breakup with Ash, no matter how it was done, was shocking and cut deep. You can choose whether to stand by your past actions or try to make amends with your first love.

Both the OG & AU stories will feature opportunities to reconnect with: the former childhood friend turned academy rival; as well as the young professor from your university years. And despite their shorter and more mysterious descriptions, they are both main RO’s, along with Ash & Ori.

Will you try to repair the broken connections plaguing your coven, or forge a brand new path? Will you decide to confront the nightmares of your past face on in the Demonhall arena, or continue to ignore the literal demons that chase you?

TW/CW: violent & horrific imagery; explicit language; explicit sex scenes (with options to fade to black); misandry (within context of the story); mentions of blood/gore; child abuse (past tense against MC); very questionable magic usage; frequent scenes where NPCs are intoxicated, under the spell of drugs or magic, as well as just as many options for MC to imbibe; elder abuse; voluntary magical torture

~ Fully customisable character — you can currently play as a woman, man, or non-binary person; straight, gay, or bisexual. Customise your character's personality, style and how they reacted in major moments of their life leading up to present events,

~ Choose how to react to your current coven dynamics — fight to save your soulmates & strengthen your long-established bonds, or play around on greener pastures with other witches

~Experience the Witch's Journey through the Major Arcana – but will your MC make it to the final tarot reading?

~ Meet your familiar and decide which form it takes, with your familiar's animal impacting the story

~ Set up a cozy, witchy corner to call your own! A few options include a reclaimed lighthouse, luxurious penthouse in the sky, and a secluded cabin in the woods

~ Continue to cross sexual conquests off your list of Lovers to Bed, or get serious and pursue a more serious connection. There are currently 4.5 love interests [all gender variable] as well as an optional poly route. I'm also considering bringing back a character who was cut from the OG story... TBD!

~ Decide what happened to MC's relationship with Ash, in the years since graduation. Have they drifted apart while leading separate lives, or have they been on-and-off for the better part of a decade?

~ Get answers & closure by chasing down ghosts from your past. Give yourself over to the demons in your past, or fight to find a balance between your life and the monsters at the gate.

~ Explore the ever-changing hellscapes of Demonhall and confront your demons, or keep those traumatic memories in the past where they belong

~ But above all else, choose which path your character takes going forward. Chase your dreams and loves, or turn your back, light it up & watch the world burn around you.

During your time at Ariadne Academy, rumours swirled nonstop about your coven.

You got along too well.

You loved each other too hard.

Some people said you were a bunch of weirdos, while others whispered [a little too loudly] that all of your parents had conspired together, bribing the Witches Council to put you all together in one coven. But back then you couldn't give a shit about anyone or anything outside your Silver Lake home.

You found your first love within your coven, as well as seven other soulmates. And for a long time, that was all you needed.

☆ Elijah Akos {m}

☆ Suki Aoki {f}

♡ Aisling Casablanca {f} // Asher Casablanca {m}

♡ Oriana Helyr {f} // Orion Helyr {m}

☆ Belladonna Humphrey {f}

☆ Endora Stills {f}

☆ Hazel Trout {f} — Deceased

☆ Bren Wylder {nb}

The grandiose and horrifying Demonhall is a favourite pastime for Witches young and old. Two opposing covens enter the arena (or as it's lovingly called by fans, the Demon Dome) and are sealed inside. Usually a timer is set for 6 hours, but some exhibition games run a 'last Witch standing' simulator, that can go on for days.

At the core of every Demonhall arena lies it's true power, a demonstone. The crystalized heart of a demon powers and creates unique and dangerous environments for covens to progress through. Whether it's a futuristic, neon playground; the dilapidated ruins of Titans; or a much too lifelike version of the floor is lava, each unique setting has been randomly and lovingly crafted by the demonstone.

Just as each demon is unique and come with their specific set of baggage challenges, so do their corresponding arenas. Some are more manipulative in luring you into their traps, while others don't waste time in throwing everything they've got at you.

The object of the game, quite simply, is to challenge & toss opposing witches out of the match, using whatever spells & curses, or hexes & charms you keep in your arsenal. All while avoiding the real terror of the Demonhall, the demon itself.

For over a decade, your life revolved around Demonhall. You were the Lead for your coven, meaning you often bore the brunt of whatever the demonstone was hurtling at you. Your Silver Lake coven dominated the amateur Demonhall circuit for the better part of a decade. You and your covemates were elevated to a level of celebrity that few others at Ariadne Academy could relate to, as you were splashed across dozens of magazine covers before you were 18.

You planned your life around your obsession and love of the game, and as your graduation approached, you fielded dozens of offers to play for top-tier professional teams. But then... the unexpected happened during a match and you lost a member of your coven.

☆The First Love☆ ...& Ash's playlist

Aisling Casablanca {f} // Asher Casablanca {m}, 31

Ash was your first love. You dated for several years during your time at Ariadne Academy. You grew up together in your Silver Lake cottage and soon after you met, you found it hard to deny your teenage crush.

You bonded over a mutual (rather mad) obsession with Demonhall, and it didn't take long for that bond to translate onto the arena. The Silver Lake Demonhall coven dominated the competition, thanks in large part to the connection you shared with Ash.

You made plans together to follow your passions after graduation, and even courted the interest of several top-tier professional clubs. They wanted you both, and were willing to restructure their teams around you & Ash.

But life happened, and you surprised everyone when you suddenly broke things off with Ash and the Demonhall teams. Instead you followed a secondary love and traveled across the world in pursuit of cryptozoological mysteries.

In the decade that you've been working out in the field, Ash has been named Demonhall MVP for three years in a row. Their legions of adoring fans have only multiplied. Is there room for you in their life nowadays, or is it truly too late?

☆The Best Friend☆ ...& Ori's playlist

Oriana Helyr {f} // Orion Helyr {m}, 30

Ori has been your longest and closest friend. No matter what your relationship was like with the rest of the coven, you could always count on Ori having your back. And sometimes being a shoulder to cry on, during the rockier parts of your relationship with Ash. In a way, it's always felt like the three of you had your own kind of connection, but at times, that could put Ori in the middle of your shit with Ash.

Ori is a highly sought after Master Architect, one of only two in the country. They’re instrumental to the buildings integrity and the future success of it’s residences. Ori often spends weeks onsite, crafting intricate enchantments around the bones of the structure, ensuring not only structural safety but doing everything in their power to position them for prosperity.

There's never been any fronts or facades with Ori, just transparent (sometimes brutal) honesty. You've never had to pretend around them and you might even be your truest self when you're with them. And then the two of you would stay up all night, talking and watching movies, and polishing off copious amounts of alcohol. In fact, many of those nights ended up serving as inspiration for your new experimental potion, a cure-all hangover draught.

In the years since the academy, Ori has tracked you down across the globe too many times to count. It always seemed like they had some magical way of knowing when your life was going to shit and they'd spontaneously turn up with boxes of wine & chocolate, immediately taking over your kitchen to cook up something utterly delicious

☆The Lifelong Rival☆ ...& Poe's playlist

Viridian ‘Poe’ Black {f/m}, 31

Poe was one of your very first friends, long before the academy. Your mothers ran in the same high society circles and so you were often left to your own devices. For Poe that usually meant running off into the woods to scout for berries and beasts, or tirelessly watching or reading up on anything to do with Demonhall. And in fact decades later, you've still never met anyone as obsessed with the game as them. Even as a kid, Poe was haughty and overtly snobby; they always knew exactly what and who they liked, and rarely strayed outside the lines.

But for some reason or another, you were someone they happily tolerated and actually seemed to like. Much to their delight their Demonhall fanaticism eventually infected you as well, and you spent countless hours debating the various forms, methods, and positions of the beautiful but deadly game. The two of you would often daydream about your future life at Ariadne Academy, and their eyes lit up with unabashed glee when they spoke of how together, you would bring about a new era of Demonhall. But then came the week before coven placements. And even after all of their extensive testing, you & Poe weren't placed together.

After that Poe very rarely spoke to you and altogether stopped responding to your many messages over the years, and just like that, the delicate friendship you once shared was snuffed out. And while they'd always been sarcastic and biting, that had rarely been directed towards you. Until you were put in competition, both academically and in the Demonhall arena, and then you were introduced to an entirely different side of Poe. The one that knew your weaknesses and just when to exploit them, who seemed to take a particular happiness from your defeat.

☆The One That Got Away☆

Julia St. James {f} // Julian St. James {m}

Jules is the youngest of nine children and grew up in Bilbao, Spain. They were generally spoiled as a child, doted on by all of their siblings, aunts and uncles. They could never want for tutors or toys or courtiers, but it was all rather tiresome.

They would later travel the continent as a young apprentice of a new philosophy, but they were never alone; always in the company of their cousins, Vix and Maz. Jules developed a deep appreciation for the fine arts and very delicious things during this time away from home.

Jules has now perfected the balancing act, living in both worlds. They work tirelessly as a professor of Theological Witchcraft but lately they've been feeling the pull to leave the classroom and get back out into the world.

☆ ... ☆

#if #interactive fiction #hosted games #choicescript #interactive novel #witches #choice of games #magic #wip #if wip #badwitch #badwitch if #if: wip #if: fyi

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stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months

Note

domestic jason hcs? >:)

(this ask feels self-indulgent but i was VERY inspired by this one buff dude i saw on insta reels baking in a not-so-sexual way but like women in the comments are down bad and i cant really describe it im so sorry 😭)

imagine waking up to jason baking something (doesnt have to be anything could just be bread). you wanna help but the only instructions he gives you is to sit pretty, wearing his shirt and all. everytime he moves around the kitchen, he give u a lil peck on the lips if hes close enough to you. youre just sitting pretty like he asked, watching this man work and looking a little love struck cuz all you wanna do is pull him down and give him the fattest kiss for being so husband material

(dude, im yearning so much. thank u for writing a lot for jason 💞 ALSO ive seen u around in the cod tag so another thanks for ur fics there too 💞)

I’m sticking with the prompt cause I had unholy thoughts. An thank you! I appreciate your appreciation for my works ✨

This may be the tiniest bit suggestive 🌝

Time Written - 5:51 a.m

Baking at an early hour was somewhat new for Jason.

Baking at an early hour after an intense ending to an incredible date night was incredibly new for Jason.

His hands were occupied with an intriguing scene of soft dough and hard, rich yellow butter on a marble countertop. His muscles at work folding in the pockets of butter into the dough, pressing it with the heels of his palms.

“Morning, mama.” His morning voice held that early rasp in his tone that tickled you just right. You reciprocated his greeting as you walk into the kitchen, dressed in one of his shirts he aggressively yanked off the night before.

There he stood in grey sweatpants. Baking something delectable for seemingly no reason.

“What’s the occasion?” You question as you approach the counter, admiring his bed rugged hair adding onto his every attractive appearance.

“Cloudy outside, which means baking time.”

“Baking time?” The slightest glance at your cheeky little grin made him amusingly scoff.

“Baked goods,” he clarified with a head gesture behind him. “Coffee’s ready for ya, babe.”

Soon, the kitchen will flood with the warm aroma of browning butter and cooking sugar, invading throughout your home for a very long evening. Neighbors will get jealous over the smell of bakery air, hopefully helping them ignore the noises prior to the other night.

It was quite a sight to watch, his muscles flexing with a focused flare along his brow. You almost didn’t hear his insistence the second time towards the cinnamon coffee waiting in the pot for you.

“Gonna stick around? You’ll get first glance at what I’m making.”

“Which is?” You pry, watching him approach the sink to wash his hands.

“Crossiants,” he admits after drying his hands, giving the tip of your nose a peck. “With chocolate.”

“Look at you, my man’s a baker.” You smile while leaning against the counter, feeling your heart throb romantically from his chaste kisses.

“Not what you expected, huh?”

“What, my Red Hood busting skulls and baking? So many single moms would chase after you if they could.”

That comment has him unexpectedly laugh. Not the worst thing he’s been told, so he’ll take it. Poor single mothers, too bad he’s already taken.

“I thought you meant the chocolate would be inside?” You ask after peeking at the dough he wrapped up in cling wrap.

“No,” He shakes his head. “See, I thought that, but I like the idea of dipping them into melted chocolate a whole lot better.”

“Where’d you get the inspiration?”

“France,” he amusingly huffs with a shrug after approaching to take the packet you handed to him. “Thanks baby. Where else?”

He slips the packet of buttered dough into the fridge before turning towards the stove, almost running into you as you beat him to it, peering into a saucepan full of melted chocolate.

“Hey, hey.” Cool, clean hands gently grasped hold of your shoulders, gently nudging you away from his little workspace. “Easy on those eyes, almost knocked you into an accident.”

“Need some help with anything?” You offer, reminding him of when he used to ask his mother the same question. Happy little memories that brought embers of warmth in his heart.

“You can be of huge help,” He begins, calloused hands grazing down along your fingerprint shaped bruised hips before hoisting you up in his arms like a little doll.

“By sitting pretty, an’ letting me work.”

He plops you down on a stool he pulled out from the island counter, giving you a perfect little spot to watch him work. You slouch after he turns away, watching him return to his little objective on the stove.

“You just melt chocolate in the pan like that?”

“Sorta,” Jason tilts his head after grabbing a spoon, stirring the smooth, ganache-like chocolate concoction around. “France’s version of hot chocolate. Some milk, cream, a little sugar.”

You hum as a response, watching the muscles along the back of his left shoulder move as he enacts upon such a simple, minor task. Jason probably said something else, along the lines of not wanting such a beautiful body of chocolate boil on the stove, but it wasn’t much of your concern as it was his.

Maybe your main concern was how exactly did the scratches you left along his back didn’t break skin, clinging onto him for dear life as they flexed along your greedy palms.

He probably knew that, he was hiding a smile for all you could tell if you paid any attention.

“My girl want a taste?” He offers, his real gaze snapping your mind back into reality. You nod, anxiously sitting up in your seat.

He spoons warm, melted chocolate on the top of your tongue, watching it dribble down your bottom lip. The pink of your little tongue swiped up the remnants, all for Jason’s adoring gaze to witness.

Your reaction varies upon the subtle lack of sweetness from the chocolate.

“It’s not that sweet. Is it dark—?”

Your words are stolen when he kisses you, cradling your face within his two warm hands after carelessly setting down the spoon.

His heavy lidded gaze meets yours after breaking off the kiss, his cheeks flushed with affectionate warmth.

“Don’t know,” his glistening lips curve upwards after licking his lips. “Tastes pretty sweet to me.”

He turns away, as if he hadn’t committed such a crime in the first place.

You’re left watching once again, anxious nerves preventing you from sitting still. Fidgety fingers lingering in your lap, grasping along the lower hem of your shirt.

“Also coffee,” Jason pitches as if he forgot. “Added a little espresso to enhance the taste. You, uh… never got your coffee, babe.”

Oh. Right. The first thing he told you when you came in.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly admit, slightly shifting your hips whilst on the stool. “Got a little distracted.”

He chuckles, not even needing a detective’s mindset to understand fully why. “Did you now?”

Not giving you a chance to answer, Jason sets the saucepan off the burner before turning full attention towards you. Swooping you off the stool you sat, hoisting you ontop of a warm, clean counter.

His torso pressed against yours, keeping you comfortably confined between a marble surface and a hard place. His hands caress along your torso, thumbs trickling over your stiff nipples through your shirt, still sore from his teeth marks.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbles against the shell of your ear. His lips press against your neck as you swallow, kissing down along your collarbone. “Figured you’d have stayed sleeping in ‘till I was done here. Guessin’ last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Your fault for putting on a show.” You whisper, hooking your legs the best you could around his broad waist.

He chuckles against your neck, his excitement as palpable as his pearly smile expressed. “Your fault for watchin’, mama.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #there’s no unique reason I chose crossiants #just sounded fun 🌝#when the post nut clarity so strong you gotta bake your girl some goods #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x #jason todd dc #don’t hate me

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bedoballoons · 8 months

Text

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Kissing a monster~༺}

CW: Characters are different types of monsters! GN! Reader, mentions of blood because vampires, some characters are considered dead, descriptions of making out, some characters are a little rough, Neuvillette doesn't wear alot of clothing, may be a little ooc!

(Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour, my love, Albedo: Dearest, Neuvillette: Play thing, beautiful!)

A/n: Talking a little break from requests (sorry) to write some self indulgent spooky stuff! I hope you enjoy!! Sorry it's a late post!!

(Includes: Lyney, Albedo, Xiao, and Neuvillette!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney: (~Vampire~)

Lyney bit his lip, watching intensely as your crimson blood ran down the tip of your finger, dripping onto the ground by his feet with the quietest of splashes that rang much louder in his trained ears. He didn't want to hurt you, but his sharp teeth ached for a taste...just a drop, "Lyney? You okay? You're not one of those people who faints at the sight of blood right?"

His violet eyes, now tinted with a bright red, met yours...scanning your lips and neck, all the way back to your small cut, "I...please forgive me mon amour.." You gave him a curious look, about to question what on earth he had done that needed to be forgiven, when his hand grabbed your wrist, his tongue sliding across your finger, licking your blood away while you watched completely shocked and blushed.

"L-lyney?!?"

Just that little bit had his mind dazed, never in his life had he tasted something so incredible as you before, it was like he'd broken away from his normal self, became a beast as pulled you close to him and kissed you roughly, hands sliding up your body in haste. "Let me have more of you my love~"

𑁍༄Albedo: (~Vampire~)

Albedo wasn't sure what had changed in him, what had made your lips taste like candy...so addictive he couldn't get enough, what had changed his normally gentle touches into harsh ones that made him seem more and more desperate for you, what made his sharp teeth cutting your bottom lip open seem like a spark to starting a lustful fire.

He lifted you onto his desk, your thighs wrapped around his waist tightly as sucked on your tongue and drank up every single drop of your delicious blood as if he had been starved, the kiss only growing more heated as he groaned into your hot mouth. He needed more, but it was already taken everything in him to not move to your neck, he was getting to excited, he should pull away...

"D-dearest maybe we s-shouldn't-" He pulled away in a attempt to calm himself, but you didn't let him leave you long enough to even finish his sentence, your hand gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him back into the kiss...he'd started it after all~

𑁍༄Xiao: (~Grim Reaper~)

You touched Xiaos cheek, the thick fabric of his hood rubbing the back of your hand as if it was reminding you what he was...a collector of souls, someone who could end your life at any moment. His touch could even potentially be dangerous to you and yet here you were, standing by cemetery in the middle of the night with him, hoping to have just one of his poisonous kisses.

"You shouldn't....we shouldn't be together. I'm... not good for you..." He tried to persuade you to leave, wanting nothing more than for you to be safe, his grip on his scythe tightening protectively, but your lips met his anyway. It was like the rest of the world faded away, fog gathering at your feet and the full moon shining down on you as his free hand wrapped around your waist...this was a risk you simply had to take.

"You're going to be the end of me..."

𑁍༄Neuvillette: (~Siren~)

You felt almost dizzy, following what seemed to be the voice of a angel that sung to you, calling you to them with every verse. How had you ended up in a cave in the dead of night...sea water swishing around your feet and the cold making your whole body shiver, why were you still going forward...

"Well look at you, aren't you a beautiful being, please come closer~" The voices abrupt change in pitch had you frantically searching around until finally you caught sight of him, long white hair flowing all the way to the ground, his body mostly exposed with only ocean items used as clothing...however what had you truly entranced were his bright almost glowing eyes that lingered on you almost threateningly.

You couldn't run away even if you wanted to, your legs carrying you closer to him, making you kneel in front of him while he smirked slightly. "How long has it been since I had a play thing as goregous as you, I wonder if you taste as good as you look..." He curled a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him while his lips met yours...it was cold but you couldn't get enough. Whatever spell he had put on you...was more than working...

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a spooky day~*⁠.⁠✧

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baddiesofluxury · 10 months

Text

Self-Care Sunday

Self-care is about prioritizing your well-being and doing things that make you feel good. Feel free to adjust the routine to best suit your preferences and needs. Here's a step-by-step guide:

Step 1: Set the Mood Create a relaxing environment by dimming the lights and playing soothing music. Light some scented candles or use essential oils to enhance the ambiance.

Step 2: Morning Meditation or Stretching Start your self-care Sunday with a short meditation session to clear your mind and set positive intentions for the day. Alternatively, indulge in gentle stretching or yoga to awaken your body.

Step 3: Skincare Ritual Begin with a gentle cleanse to refresh your skin. Follow up with a hydrating mask or a DIY face mask using natural ingredients like honey and yogurt. Take this time to pamper your skin and give it some much-needed love.

Step 4: Nourishing Breakfast Prepare a nutritious and delicious breakfast. Consider options like a smoothie bowl, whole grain pancakes, or avocado toast. Incorporate fruits, veggies, and protein to fuel your body for the day ahead.

Step 5: Journaling or Creative Expression Spend some time journaling your thoughts, goals, or things you're grateful for. Alternatively, engage in a creative activity you enjoy, like painting, drawing, or writing poetry.

Step 6: Relaxing Bath or Shower Take a soothing bath with Epsom salts, bath oils, or your favorite bubble bath. If you prefer a shower, use a fragrant body wash or scrub to refresh your skin. Consider playing calming music or listening to a podcast as you unwind.

Step 7: Hair Care Dedicate time to your hair care routine. Whether you're deep conditioning, trying out a new hairstyle, or simply giving your hair a break from styling, make it a moment of self-care.

Step 8: Mindful Reading or Learning Spend time reading a book that inspires you or teaches you something new. This could be a novel, a self-help book, or an article related to a topic you're passionate about.

Step 9: Nature Connection If possible, spend time outdoors in nature. Whether it's a walk in the park, sitting under a tree, or simply breathing in fresh air on your balcony, connecting with nature can be incredibly rejuvenating.

Step 10: DIY Spa Time Set up a DIY spa area and treat yourself to a manicure, pedicure, or both. Use a luxurious scrub and follow up with your favorite nail polish for a polished look.

Step 11: Mindful Eating For lunch, prepare a balanced meal that includes a variety of colors and nutrients. Eat slowly and mindfully, savoring each bite.

Step 12: Positive Affirmations Spend a few minutes reciting positive affirmations in front of a mirror. Remind yourself of your worth, strength, and beauty.

Step 13: Creative Cooking or Baking If you enjoy cooking or baking, spend some time in the kitchen preparing a special treat or a new recipe you've been wanting to try.

Step 14: Wind-Down Yoga or Stretching As the day comes to an end, engage in a gentle wind-down yoga session or some gentle stretches to relax your body before bedtime.

Step 15: Relaxing Bedtime Routine Wrap up your self-care Sunday with a calming bedtime routine. This could involve reading a few pages of a book, practicing deep breathing, or using a soothing lavender-scented mist on your pillow.

Remember, the most important thing is to tailor this routine to your preferences and make it a day that feels special and rejuvenating for you. Enjoy your self-care Sunday!

#pretty privilege #self care #self love #selflovemovement #blackwomen #femininity #leveling up #black femininity #black luxury #black girl luxury #self confidence #self esteem #self care sunday #self improvement #self development #self healing #hyper feminine #hypergamous

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trappedinafantasy37 · 1 month

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I have never understood this whole notion that the companions don't take Durge seriously when they talk about their urges. it's not that they don't take Durge seriously, I just don't think they comprehend just how bad it is for Durge.

Shadowheart acknowledges that everyone has these thoughts and everyone seems to indulge in them. But you and the others have a conscious. She truly believes that you have the ability to fight them because she has faith that you do have a conscious.

Gale interprets it as if it just ordinary anger, something that everyone has from time to time. But, he also stresses that thoughts like that should remain only as thoughts because he knows that they should not be acted on.

Lae'zel says that there is nothing wrong with enjoying a little bit of murder, as long as there is a purpose to it and isn't done too often and without restraint.

Wyll also sees it as anger, but feels that that anger is justified considering what everyone has been through the past few days. However, he sees no issue with the problem, as long as it is directed to those who deserve it (like your enemies).

Karlach immediately applauds you for admitting your problem and suggests that you can either change, or also direct your urges out on those who deserve t.

Halsin perceives your situation as any other illness, but one that you may not be able to rid yourself from. He advises you to engage in mindfullness and self control.

None of these come off as people who aren't taking Durge seriously, but merely people who do not comprehend that the urge is pathological. Astarion, Minthara, and Jaheira are the only ones that truly know and understand just how bad it is for Durge from the get go.

Astarion will actually approach Durge if he notices the symptoms as he himself knows what it's like to be feral and driven by impulses he cannot control. All the companions (except Minthara) will tell Durge to resist the urges but Astarion is by far the most convincing because he has literally been in Durges place. He truly and fully understands what it means to have another force compel you to do things you don't want to do.

Minthara has personally witnessed people driven by darker urges both in Menzoberranzan and by being the plaything of Orin. When Durge confesses to her, she will admit that she fears that Durge is like those that even Lolth would destroy for the greater good (and Lolth has no concept of greater good, that's how serious it is). She admires the power of the slayer, but she believes it to be a power that should be controlled. If the slayer cannot control themselves, then she will destroy it.

Jaheira clocks Durge as Bhaalspawn not too long after joining camp. Considering that she has personally traveled with Bhaalspawn in her past, she literally does know better than anyone how deep things go for Durge. She has witnessed it herself, many times.

When Durge reveals to everyone about being Bhaalspawn, they are all surprised (except Minthara and Jaheira) because they are forced to recognize that these aren't fleeting thoughts, but the core nature of Durge. They are forced to recognize for the first time that these are persistent thoughts that Durge has to resist every single damn day. They are forced to acknowledge that if not for the incredible restrain, Durge would have killed them all.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #shadowheart #gale #lae'zel #karlach #halsin #astarion #minthara #jaheira #durge

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cerastes · 17 days

Note

It's kind of amazing that a horny game like Nikke actually included stuff like Cyberpsychosis. Nikkes going insane or committing suicide if they are reminded too much that they are actually full-conversion cyborgs. The reason why they don't have a lot of cool gadgets like built-in thrusters or weapons. And then you have someone like Snow White who replaced a large chunk of her body with enemy robot parts.

Nikke is this really cool thing to have Existing in the space, even if I don't play it anymore, because of how charmingly unbalanced it is as a whole, making the charming parts of it all the more apparent.

It's got barebones gameplay, the seams of which burst the moment you do high level content and realize there's not much it can do due to its limited concept. Combat rarely translates to whatever is going on in any story thematically, being thus gameplay being more of an abstraction. There is a gulf and an ocean of power between fellow characters of the same rarity, meaning a max rarity character might do absolutely fuck all while another one, with the same odds, might snap the game in two with ease. It's story is absolutely nothing to write home about. It's a setting that can be best described as "self-indulgent incel nice guy heaven", where your character is The Only One to be nice to all these poor second class citizen superpowered voluptuous supermodel living weapons with tits two times your head and asses big and heavy enough to easily crush cars. Everything jiggles. It's so insanely predatory with its flash sales after every little thing you do.

And yet, the basic story it tells, it tells well. It's fun. It's entertaining. It knows what it is, and it has fun with itself, but it doesn't throw all pretense, either. It walks the razor-edge thin line between having a goof and telling a story with emotional depth. What it doesn't have in complexity or originality, it makes up for in sheer moment-to-moment, with good scenes, with good execution of things we've already seen. The showdown with Modernia lives rent free in my mind, Commander loading the Vapaus round, as Modernia or Marian, no way of telling, begs them to put down the weapon, because she's already back to normal, Commander shooting, and Modernia catching it with her teeth, and then growling the most guttural threat with freshest purest fury: "You shot me. Your really shot me! Shikikan!" and then drilling Commander right through the chest. And everything that happens after in that scene. It's got interactions out the wazoo, both mundane and touching. It has music that goes from "background music that really works" to "handcrafted for the moment and the character in its excellence". I think it's because Nikke knows what it is, but doesn't reach the self-mockery rung of the ladder. It knows what it's doing, and it's still sincere about it, even if it dares have fun at its own expense sometimes.

So, with that on the table, the take on Cyberpsychosis present in Nikke is incredibly powerful as a narrative tool because it tells you just how much of a jury-rigged slapdash product Nikke are. They are not cutting edge technology, they are literally something they pumped out quick as can be while telling everyone in the world that's still alive that they are cutting edge technology. And all, all of the safeguards are ultimately subject to willpower and perspective. Some Nikke go insane if they are too machine-like. Snow White has basically rebuilt herself over and over hundreds of times in her forever war. Nikke cannot aim at humans, so Crow instead puts a steel plate on the ground and ricochets her bullets off of those to shoot Commander successfully. Aiming is something you do with your senses normally, right? Rose figured out that she can just wear a blindfold and convince herself that what she's slashing is not a human, but a Rapture, and that's how she disemboweled and killed her Commander. Just by not seeing and fervently believing.

It's really, really cool how they go about it.

#nikke

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