#this recreation of the trailer is sending me
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#rwby#rwby spoilers#rwby ice queendom spoilers#weiss schnee#rwby ice queendom#spoilers#this recreation of the trailer is sending me#also that last gif looks like it loops#that was not intentional#WEISS AHHHH
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Lost and Found - Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 2) | Part 1
WC: 7.0K / navi / preview / request
Summary: Eddie is happy to teach you everything he knows about DnD, he just wishes you weren't so goddamn distracting
Contents/Warnings: eddie n wayne, besties forever <3 very very fluffy lots of yearning and ridiculously cheesy moments, lovesick!eddie, reader wears a skirt and eddie's hellfire shirt from part 1, suggestive material, but still minor-friendly (part three will not be)
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
“Christ on a cracker, son,” Wayne swears, nearly pushed to the ground as Eddie slams the trailer door open, “Calm down.”
“Sorry Wayne!” Eddie barely takes a second to breathe before he flies through the space, feet pounding on the matted carpet of the trailer as he races to his bedroom.
“What’s the rush?” Wayne is well aware of his nephew’s recreational habits, as well as his business endeavors, and shudders to think that there might be some drug-crazed lunatic after the boy.
But Eddie pops his wide-eyed face out from his bedroom only seconds later, shirt and pants torn off to leave him in his boxers as he darts for the shower, “There’s a girl coming over.”
That’s a new one. Wayne has heard a few feminine voices outside the trailer before, when they’re out of stock and need replenishing, but Eddie never showers for them. He probably should, Wayne always tells the boy that if he stinks any worse he’ll have to move out, but he’s never shown an interest until now.
“And,” Wayne peers into the bathroom, seeing Eddie frantically combing out his hair, the plastic nearly snapping under the pressure he’s putting on it, “This is a special girl?”
“I- I don’t know,” Eddie huffs, his crazed panic still alive as he whirls around the bathroom for a clean towel, “Sort of. I don’t really know her yet.”
“Y’know ‘er enough to care.” Wayne prompts him, and Eddie deflates slightly. He’s looking in the mirror, trying to part his hair neatly so that he can wash it easier. He stops, his hands falling from his head to his sides as he stares hard at his reflection.
“I want to impress her.” Eddie admits, his usual self-assuredness now gone, “Or- impress isn’t right,” He puzzles for a moment, his eyes drifting over his features, “Just- I don’t want to scare her away.”
“Well I think it’s good you’re showering then,” Wayne lightens the mood, “‘Not sure she could handle your B.O.”
“Shut up,” Eddie takes the out, shoving at his uncle’s shoulder with no real force, “I’m gonna order pizza for us. She wants to learn how to play DnD.”
Wayne’s eyebrows skyrocket, “She wants to learn? Or have you kidnapped and brainwashed her like those basketball players tell me you do?”
“She’s under my control,” Eddie rasps, his voice thick in his throat.
Wayne snorts, standing up straight from where he’d been leaning against the doorframe, “Alright, boy. I’ll leave you to it, but if you need help getting ready for tonight, I’m here.”
“Thanks,” Eddie breathes, flashing his signature grin at his uncle before he shuts the door.
Wayne watches the closed door with something light and airy filling his chest, maybe laughing gas at the way he chortles hearing Eddie drop the comb into the sink for the tenth time since he started. Then he turns, and the reality of their home hits him.
It’s messy.
Far too messy to accept company, which is why the pair hasn’t for years. Aside from Eddie’s trusted friends, all of whom are far too sloppy themselves to bat an eye at the general clutter around the trailer, no one has set foot in their space for five long years.
Now, he’s all for encouraging Eddie to be himself, that if someone doesn’t like who he is, then they’re not fit for a friend. But he’s sure that you’re far too important to Eddie for that test just yet, and he’s not sure he wants you to get to know his nephew as messy when there’s so many other qualities he possesses. That’s something you can discover later, when you’re hooked on his charm and wit and won’t mind stepping on a pair of boxers or two to get down the hallway. He gets to work clearing away mindless clutter, collecting shirts strewn over the furniture and paper plates tucked under the couch.
By the time Eddie finishes showering (and falling, twice), Wayne has the entire living room de-cluttered, although most of the loose papers and items have made their way onto the kitchen table instead of being put in their places. Eddie steps out of the bathroom, towel tucked around his waist and a hand in his curls, dragging his fingers through the wet tangles, and he stops dead in the doorway, eyes wide.
“Shit,” He breathes, watching his uncle crouch to tug an empty beer can out from behind the door and stuff it into the trash bag he’s got going, “Wayne, what are you doing?”
“Cleaning up,” Wayne states the obvious, raising an eyebrow unimpressed at his nephew’s cognitive skills, “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Are-” Eddie stops combing through his hair, standing limply in front of his uncle, “Are you doing this ‘cause Y/N’s coming over?”
“That’s her name?” Wayne smiles, “‘S a pretty one.”
“You are,” Eddie marvels, “Uh, thanks, Wayne.”
Wayne’s hands and knees burn against the scratchy carpet, the beer can in his hands sharp from being crushed. He stands, the worn fabric of his flannel falling limp against his distressed jeans. He stands there, tattered and messy, looking at the way Eddie’s cleaned himself up.
He’s wearing a tank top, a KISS shirt that he was gifted on his tenth birthday. It’s got tour dates on the back, one of which Wayne took Eddie to as a present. Apparently it didn’t look good enough as a t-shirt though, because the boy had taken scissors to it a few years back, carving out holes the size of craters that expose part of his side.
His hair is bundled up in a bun atop his head, scrunched up and crimping itself while it dries. He always tells Eddie not to do that, to leave it down so that each strand can dry individually, but Eddie hates the feeling of wet hair on his skin, so he pulls it up and leaves it sitting until he can blow-dry it.
The same ripped jeans he’d worn to school are back on his waist, belt cinched tight around him with his handcuffs pinned there. Wayne always tells him he’ll confuse someone, make them think he’s an undercover cop, but Eddie only laughs at him. There’s a chain hooked through his belt that rests on his hip, dipping close to his knee and gleaming in the artificial light above them.
There’s two necklaces bouncing against his chest as he walks over to help Wayne with the overflowing trash bag, his typical guitar pick and a dog tag he’d found in the street one day. It says Sprinkles on one side, but Eddie swears that it looks metal if he turns it the other way, the owner’s number stamped across it.
He has an earring in. Eddie almost never puts an earring in, because his at-home ear piercing hadn’t produced the most sanitary results. He says it burns when he wears earrings, but here he is, a heavy silver hoop through one ear and a black cuff pinched tight at the helix of the other.
Wayne looks at his nephew, his boy, and pride surges through his chest. Pride, a little bit of awe, and happiness. He cares. This is something Eddie really cares about, you are something Eddie really cares about, and it’s obvious by the things he’s done for you before you’ve even come over. Eddie has always cared, perhaps a bit too much, and it’s easy to tell when he does from the little things he pieces together to show it.
“You look good, boy.” Wayne breaks the careful silence the two had slipped into, watching Eddie tug the straps to the garbage bag. He reddens slightly, his cheeks flaring in color, something akin to the shade of the tomato soup he’d managed to botch for last thursday’s dinner. How the boy had undercooked a can of soup, he’d never know.
“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie mumbles, forearms flexing as he ties a knot into the strings of the garbage bag, “I’ll take this out.”
“We should start on your room,” Wayne points out as Eddie tries making his frantic exit, spooked by praise. Eddie nods once, and Wayne lets him escape to the dumpster to process the emotions he’s got swirling inside of him.
He knows the boy gets shy around praise, which is why he tries not to overwhelm him. But today is different, today is a bigger step than he’s seen Eddie take in a long time, and it’s hard not to burst with pride.
When Eddie comes back inside Wayne is already tiptoeing around his room, dodging suspicious socks and cassette tapes strewn about. Eddie gets to work stacking those, a comfortable silence falling over the pair as they set to work.
“Wayne?” Eddie’s voice is timid, meek.
“Yeah?” Wayne reaches under his bed, pulling out a magazine that he shouldn’t have and a sock, something Wayne doesn’t want to think about as a pair.
“Do you.. Do you really think I look nice?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth he’s stammering, shaking his head so that his bun wobbles dangerously, “I- I mean, like- not like nice, but do you… you think she’ll like it?”
“Son, if she asked you to teach her about your game, I’m sure she’s not scared of you.”
“But is that enough? Shouldn’t she,” Eddie abandons the cassettes in his hand, scratching bashfully at the back of his neck and combing through the stray hairs there, “I dunno, like me? Not just not hate me?”
“Well I’d give her some time if I were you,” Wayne chuckles, reminded of the restlessness of youth, “You’ve only known her a day.”
“Right.” Eddie nods frantically, eyes glued to the tapes he busies himself with again, “Yeah, I will.”
“Hey,” Wayne reaches out, bracing a hand on Eddie’s knee that’s bouncing frantically, “You’ve got this, boy. You can do this. She’ll love you.”
The word love has Eddie’s cheeks flaring the color of it, a deep red that Wayne sees most often on valentine’s day cards. He chuckles once more at his nephew’s crush, shaking his head and getting back to sorting through clutter.
--
By the time Eddie’s watch beeps, a tinny, mechanical sound that has him leaping onto his feet to rush for the door, they’ve gotten his room mostly under control. There’s a pile of dirty laundry stull bulging out of the closet, but that can’t be avoided, as the hamper is broken from a rather unfortunate sledding endeavor a few months back. You’ll just have to live with the sight of yesterday’s t-shirt in the corner, they decide.
“Okay, uh- thanks, Wayne.” Eddie brushes his hands on his pants, already sweaty from nerves, “I’m gonna go pick her up now.”
“Right,” Wayne stands, trash bag in hand with all of Eddie’s discarded food wrappers and beer cans, “Good luck, son.”
The term flares up Eddie’s blush again, but Wayne doesn’t comment on it, offering him a quick hug, a simple pat to the back. It’s all Eddie can handle right now, already a bundle of nerves that he doesn’t want spilling out.
“There’s a $10 on the fridge,” Wayne calls out after Eddie bounds down the steps of the trailer,tugging the rubber band out of his hair and letting it spill over his shoulders, “Use it for pizza!”
“No, no,” Eddie waves his uncle off, plunging his hand into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, “I got it!”
“Eddie,” Wayne glares at the stubborn boy, “Use the money on the fridge.”
Eddie balks at the aggressively kind gesture, but a wry smile curves over his lips, “Whatever. I’ll just sneak cash into your jacket while you’re asleep.”
“You will not,” Wayne huffs, but Eddie’s already taken off for his van, slamming the door behind him with a hearty laugh at his uncle’s grouchiness.
When Eddie pulls up to your house, having checked the little slip of paper buried in his pocket, oh, around a thousand times, one of the upstairs lights is on. It’s the only one on, the rest of the windows pitch black, and Eddie worries that maybe something is wrong. Your house looks near abandoned, but at the rough chugchugchugging of his engine, a downstairs light flicks on. He catches your silhouette thumping down the stairs and sees the outline of a skirt over your hips. His stomach flips and he shuts off the van, hurrying out so that he can beat you to the door. It seems gentlemanly, something he’s never been too concerned about, but it feels right in the moment.
He’s inches from the door as you wrench it open, a fist raised to knock while you step out of it, not expecting him there on the other side. Your eyes widen but you can’t stop your momentum, stumbling clumsily into his chest despite your efforts to slow down.
“Oh!”
“Eddie!” You speak in unison, your voices mingling just as your limbs do. His arms wind around your waist, laying over his hellfire shirt that you’ve tucked into the waistband of your skirt. The material is soft under his touch, but not as soft as your face, which hits his shoulder in your scuffle. Eddie feels a burst of warmth flood through him at the skin-on-skin contact, and holds you steady as you right yourself against his chest. Your hands brace themselves frantically on his stomach, your chest heaving as you gape at him, “I’m so sorry! I- I wasn’t paying attention, I just heard you coming, and- and,”
“If you were that excited to see me,” Eddie doesn’t know how he’s being as suave as he is, because his heart is practically hammering through his ribcage to affix itself to you like a lovesick leech, “You could have asked me to come earlier.”
You feel your cheeks flare with heat as you slump forwards, the crown of your head hitting Eddie’s clothed chest, “Stoooop.”
Eddie chuckles, adjusting the pitch of his voice to your own, “Stoooop.”
“You’re mocking me!” You shove at him lightly, making him stumble a step backwards, “You’re the worst.”
“Hey,” Eddie finally lets you go, his skin instantly cold where it had once touched yours, “You gotta be nice to me. I’m teaching you DnD, remember?”
“Fine,” You huff dramatically, “You get a pass, but only for tonight!”
“Deal.” Eddie’s eyes gleam with mischief, “Ready?”
“Ready.” You confirm, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet.
“Van’s there,” Eddie gestures to his van, nearly tripping over his own feet when you grab his hand, eagerly tugging him along, “Woah!”
“I told you I was ready.” You gush, the words coming out in a soft giggle that makes his heart burst.
You look out of place in his van, too heavenly to be wriggling comfortably into his worn seats. There’s a half-drunk water bottle by your feet that crunches beneath your shoe, and you apologize hurriedly for crushing it.
“‘S okay sweetheart,” Eddie snickers, reaching down to pluck it out from under your feet, “It’s, like, months old.”
“Eddie,” You chide, “It’s probably growing something!”
“It’s fine,” He urges, snickering at your horror, “It’ll put some hair on your chest.”
He leaves you with that, shutting the door to your side of the car and jogging around to the driver’s side door. He wrenches it open, his hair bouncing against his chest as he sits down with a flounce. The radio that he has is already preloaded with the cassette tape he uses whenever he drives Wayne anywhere, his favorite metal artists and their less-overwhelming songs. Wayne always says heavy metal ‘makes his ears bleed’, he’s more into classic rock, but Eddie will be damned if he isn't listening to Mötley Crüe on any drive longer than two minutes. He figures that he’ll be courteous to you at first, just in case metal isn’t your thing either.
To his surprise, a minute into Merry Go Round, your brow dips in concentration.
“Mötley Crüe, right?”
Eddie swears he nearly passes out. His usual response to surprising information, a dramatic flailing of his limbs, doesn’t seem very safe just now, and you’re lucky he doesn’t jerk the wheel to the side.
“Yeah,” He grins dazedly, “You listen?”
“Sometimes!” You pick at a loose thread on your skirt, “I’m into a bit of everything. Really jus’ whatever comes on the radio.”
Eddie suddenly likes you more, if possible. Everything new that he learns about you only adds to the little list of Reasons he Cares, the first and most important being that you’re kind to him. He would never admit it, but he’s like a little lost puppy, trailing after the first person to scratch behind his ears.
“I like your van.” You muse, and it’s so genuinely sweet it nearly makes Eddie scream. You brush your fingers over a Black Sabbath sticker that’s peeling off of the dash, reaffixing the dusty backing to the smooth plastic. It doesn’t stay, it pops right back up again, but you’re onto the next detail now, a pair of old sneakers in the door, autographed by the patrons that watch him perform with his band.
“These are cool,” You marvel at the sloppy, mostly-drunken signatures scrawled over the canvas, “Who are they?”
“Our fans,” Eddie boasts proudly, even though he’s sure seven hammered 40 year olds aren’t the most impressive thing in the world when it comes to an audience, “They watch us perform, remember my band I told you about?”
Eddie watches your eyes light up from the rear-view mirror, but you’re lucky he doesn’t take his eyes off the road completely to see them unfiltered.
“That’s right!” You remember your earlier conversation, “That’s so cool, Eddie, you’ve got fans!”
“We do,” He chuckles, fingers sweating against the steering wheel as you near his trailer, “You should come to one of our shows sometime.”
“If I do, do I get to sign the sneakers?” You’re far too excited to put your name on a pair of ratty old shoes, repurposed as a trophy, but Eddie would be willing to buy a new pair just so that your name can be the only one on the fabric. He thinks about that, about having your name displayed over him, and blushes. He hopes you don’t catch it.
“Of course you can,” Eddie promises, turning much more carefully than he normally does into his typical parking spot, the van sputtering to a stop when he removes the key. He turns to you before you open the door, “How about this saturday?”
“Next,” You compromise, “My parents get back Saturday night and I can’t be out without them knowing.”
“Your parents are gone?” Eddie cocks his head to the side, crimped hair bouncing as he does.
“They’re getting the last of our stuff from our old house,” You nod solemnly, “We don’t even have mattresses here yet.”
“No shit? What have you been sleeping on?”
“The couch,” You recount sadly, “It’s not very comfortable, but it’s better than the floor.”
“Damn,” Eddie sympathizes, yanking on the latch of his door and hopping down, “Well, babe, I’ve got a mattress inside, if you’re interested in staying the night.”
It’s bold, brazen, uncouth, but he tops it off with a teasing grin, so it’s okay. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, happy that it mostly filled the empty van as he slams his door, rounding the front to open your own for you.
“Very gentlemanly,” You praise him, slipping your hand into his to step down from the lifted van, “I’m impressed.”
“Well don’t get used to it,” He teases, squeezing you against his side with a hand that drifts suspiciously low, “I’m not usually this nice.”
“I must be special.” You concur, giddiness in your grin that sends Eddie’s stomach into a cartwheel.
You are, Eddie nods once at you, afraid to voice his thoughts in case they somehow ruin the unspoken adoration between you, More than you know.
Eddie’s pleased to find nothing but a slight oil stain in Wayne’s usual parking spot, his uncle having predicted that Eddie would want alone time with you. He’s half expecting to find a box of condoms on the kitchen counter when he walks in with you, but flicking on the light of the trailer reveals only a spotless living space, junk shoved in drawers to be dealt with later.
“I like it.” You decide with a curt nod, eyes landing on the array of DnD paraphernalia stacked on the couch, “Oh, I almost forgot! I brought you this.”
You reach into the waistband of your skirt, the slim paperback book you were reading earlier neatly molded to your side. It doesn’t retain the curve of your side, flattening back out into its shape as you hold it out to Eddie.
You swear you catch his eyes wandering towards the spot that you’d just pulled the book from, but they snap up to meet your own before you can verify it. He takes the book from you with an eager grin, “Thanks, sweetheart.”
“Y’wanna swap?” You stride over to the couch, plucking a book titled Players Handbook: Compiled Information for Players and Dungeon Masters out of the pile.
Eddie falters slightly, surprised that you’re so eager to get into what might be the least exciting part of learning DnD: the rules.
“Sure,” He nods carefully, taken aback, “Lemme just clear the couch.”
He bends over to do so, and you can’t help that your eyes trace the newly-exposed skin of his chest. The shirt he’s wearing already reveals his side, but as his arms stretch to grab boxes and papers off of the cushions in front of you, it shifts to show his stomach.
You don’t realize you’re staring until he stops in front of you, an eyebrow raised that you don’t catch because you’re ogling him.
“Everything okay?” To your horror, there’s a twinge of amusement in his voice, and you’re certain he’s caught you.
“Yes!” You scramble to act casual, thumbing past the cover of the book to appear busy, “Yes, let’s get started.”
Eddie sits before you do, surveying you with that same cocky gaze. It makes you nervous, your stomach churning slightly, and you perch on the end of the couch that he’s not spread out over.
He lets out a scoff, reaching out, “You can get comfortable, Y/N, I don’t bite.”
He does, however, grab, which you find out when he yanks your legs out from under you, tugging them outwards so that they rest over his lap. He’s reclined against both the arm of the couch and the back cushion of it, looking far too composed for the rampage of butterflies against his stomach.
You melt into your new position so naturally that it scares you. It feels right, cracking the spine of the handbook while your legs are draped casually over Eddie’s lap. Stretching out and getting comfortable on Eddie’s couch seems just as casual as it does on your couch, and you can’t help the dizzy grin that spreads over your face as you realize this.
“Somethin’ funny?” Eddie’s brow quirks at your expression, and you bury it behind the book, shaking your head.
“Right,” He sets a hand over your ankles, locking your legs into their position on his lap, “Lemme know if you’re confused, babe, I’m here to help.”
--
Though the DnD handbook is informative, and slightly exhilarating to peruse, you hope that the actual gameplay is less complicated than it sounds. You’re barely twenty pages in, a good 40 minutes gone by, and you’re not sure you can keep all of the information straight in your head. Hopefully Eddie cuts you some slack, or else you might seriously slow down their game.
"Page?" Eddie glances up from the pages of your novel, peering over at the handbook in your grip.
You look to the corner of the page from where you'd been reading up on character classes, "23."
"The Fighter." He speaks in a low voice, raspy and dramatic. You giggle, half amused by his theatrics and half impressed that he's managed to memorize the 130-page handbook in front of you.
"What about you?" You glance pointedly at the book in his hands, shifting your feet in his lap slightly. You don't realize it, but they press against a rather sensitive spot, and Eddie hunches slightly, his stomach caving in as he tries remaining composed.
"Uh," His eyes frantically skim the page, wide and panicked until they lock on a familiar name, "Weylin- Weylin is just, uh, crossing over the Bridge of Lost Souls."
"Ooh," You wriggle slightly in your place on the couch, consequently burrowing your feet further into Eddie's lap, "I love that part! You meet Ionia soon, you'll love her!"
He can’t take it anymore.
“Uh,” He shoots off of the couch, lowering your feet carefully back down to the cushions where he was sitting, “I’m getting kinda hungry. Pizza time?”
“Pizza time.” You nod jovially, flipping a page in the handbook, seemingly unconscious of Eddie’s predicament, “Pepperoni?”
“And sausage.” Eddie nods, “Be right back.”
When he comes back, tugging a crumpled bill out of his pocket to use for the food and pointedly avoiding his uncle’s money, you tuck your legs up under you to set him sit down. He peers over the top of the handbook, eyes drifting to the words appearing upside-down in front of his face.
His nose hooks over the tops of the pages, and you can’t help it: you giggle. He glances up amusedly at you, his own sweet laugh filling the air as he crumples into your lap. You raise the book over your head so that he doesn’t have to slip under it, and his eyes meet yours from where he lays on your legs.
You stare down at him, entranced by his features. His soft cheeks, his sloped nose, the tinge of red that spreads over his skin. His eyes, shiny and smooth, like melted chocolate that you can taste on your tongue. You brush a hand over his forehead, gathering up loose flyaway hairs that have gathered there. They’re malleable and wiry in your grip, and you twirl them around your finger once, twice, thrice, until they form a spiraled curl.
His eyes follow your finger, doe-like as they cross to track your movement. When you let the hair go it springs off of your finger, bouncing down to rest over his nose, and his eyes dart inwards to follow it.
Apparently it tickles his nose, because he scrunches it up, miniscule wrinkles etched like waterways on a map into his skin. You smooth the terrain, running the soft pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose and marveling how his face relaxes as your touch waves over it.
He shivers slightly under your finger, and you notice a bridge of freckles, the lightest you’ve ever seen, dotting his nose. They stand strong over all of the rivers you have yet to flatten, stretching down towards his mouth in beautiful smile lines.
“You’re pretty.” You muse, your voice barely more than a whisper as you trace his features. He lets his eyes flutter shut when your fingers brush under them, his lashes tickling your skin.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” He coos, the softness of his voice gaping that growing sinkhole of adoration that’s been tugging at your chest ever since you met him. His pretty face, his sweet words, his kind actions, all of them mark him as safe, as good, as loveable.
With his eyes closed, you’re allowed to be as obvious as you want when ogling him, not that you were very subtle before. Your eyes latch onto his lips in a similar fashion as you want your own to do, roving over every crease, mark, and indent in the soft, pillowy muscles.
Before you can think about it, you touch them. Your fingers, their pads soft and hesitant, prod gently at his lips. That has his eyes shooting open, carmeled brown irises meeting yours in shock.
Though you feel his gaze on you, you don’t stop. You let your hands linger on his face, soaking up every second of dazzlingly intimate contact you can get with the man. He studies your face while you study his, the both of you barely breathing while watching the other sit pretty. You swear you feel Eddie’s lips shift under your fingers, puckering ever-so-slightly to kiss the tips of your fingers, but then-
The hollow, sharp knock on the door of Eddie’s trailer shatters the intimacy of the moment, plunging you back into reality from the serene haze you’d been trapped in. You both fall from the clouds you’d lounged atop, plummeting back to earth with the thump of your hearts in your chests.
“I’ll get it,” Eddie scrambles up from where he’s draped over your lap, rushing to the door and snatching the cash off of the counter. You straighten yourself out while he grabs the pizza, cheeks aflame as you look around the room to avoid looking at him. You see a stack of vhs movies in the corner by the television set, and your eyes catch a familiar title.
Labyrinth.
“Okay,” Eddie sets the pizza on the counter, grateful for the paper plates the place provided you, “One slice or two?”
“Two,” You grin eagerly, reaching for the tape, “Are you the reason this was missing from the video store yesterday?”
He laughs at the sight of the VHS in your hands, “Yep, ‘had it since it came out.”
“Rude,” You scoff, “I wanted to watch it last night!”
“Bummer,” Eddie scrunches his brows, faux-sympathy written on his face, “‘Guess you’ll just have to come over whenever you wanna watch it.”
“Well I’m here now…” You push, clutching the case hopefully.
“Pop it in,” Eddie laughs, gesturing towards the machine, “‘Should be rewound already.”
You kneel by the VHS player while Eddie brings your plates over, and your back faces him. It gives him the perfect opportunity to ogle you, only feeling slightly guilty when his eyes trace the curve of your ass.
You turn before he can admire how the Hellfire shirt exposes the angles of your shoulders, abandoning its post and leaving your neck bare. He watches the skin there shift, muscles beneath the surface tensing as you crane it downwards to slide the tape into the receiver.
“We’ll work more on DnD later,” Eddie promises as the main titles roll, music filling the otherwise silent trailer, “We’ve still gotta get a character figured out for you.”
“‘M excited,” You speak through a mouthful of greasy pizza, pepperoni sticking to your lip, “Thanks for the pizza, Eddie.”
“‘Course sweetheart,” He grins at you, then hides his blush in the red tomato sauce on his bread.
Eddie truly believes that you’ll go over more later for the game. But when you finish both slices of your pizza, hands covering your stomach tenderly as he’s sure it’s stuffed, and curl up against the arm of the couch, he knows nothing else is getting done tonight. Your eyes are glued to the screen, Sarah’s dress glittering as her hair flounces with every movement of the couple. He’s never been a Bowie fan, but he reckons you are by the way your eyes shine whenever he’s on screen.
He’s jealous of David Bowie.
Oh, fuck, he never thought he’d sink this low. But he feels something unfamiliar and sharp prod at his chest whenever you pay just a little too much attention to the man on screen, and he prods at your feet with his own.
“Hoggin’ the couch,” He chides you, with no real scorn as he tangles his legs with yours, “Stretched out like you own the place.”
“Sor-ry,” You huff dramatically, clocking his teasing grin and knowing he’s just messing around, “It’s not my fault your couch is comfier than mine.”
Eddie remembers your admission, that you’ve been sleeping on your couch for god-knows-how-long, and his stomach sours. He studies your face, the way that your eyelids droop even though you’re clearly enjoying the movie, the wrinkling of your chin as you yawn. You’re clearly exhausted, and his space is the comfort you need.
He feels something akin to pride at that. You not only feel comfortable enough around him to curl up on his couch, but you feel comfortable enough to fall asleep. He might be new at this, the whole relationship thing, but he knows that’s big.
Suddenly he doesn’t feel such a large blade of jealousy stabbing at his heart anymore, because you’re not cuddled up to David Bowie on David Bowie’s couch, are you? No. You’re curled up with him, on his couch.
Take that, Bowie.
--
It’s around the one-and-a-half hour mark, only ten minutes before the movie ends, that he realizes he’s the only one watching. He’s been glancing back and forth between the screen and you for ages now, but when he checks up on you this time, you’re asleep. He can see your chest rising and falling, his shirt still worn proudly over your frame, and a sleepy smile curves over his face. Your lashes kiss your cheeks, casting shadows down your face that look like spiderwebs. It looks cool, and he makes a mental note to ask you if you’d let him put eyeliner on you to see if he can turn it into a spiderweb. It’s a design he’s been meaning to do on himself, but if he needs a model, why would you turn him down?
The end of the movie isn’t so entrancing to him anymore now that you’re snoozing, and once more he lets his eyes drift over your frame. Your skirt is tucked neatly under your bum, but your thighs peek out of it, soft and plumped by the way you’re laying. Then his eyes rove over your shirt, the familiar, hand-crafted design looking better on you than it ever has on him or his friends. It’s odd, seeing the shirt on anyone but the boys in his friend group, but he quickly decides that it’s his favorite outfit of yours, and that nothing in the world could top it.
The end credits announce themselves in an encore of the film’s soundtrack, and Eddie reluctantly parts from the cozy embrace you’ve found yourself in. He ejects the tape, stuffing it back into its case and tucking it carefully back onto the stack. Now that he knows it’s his ticket to time spent with you, he’s much more reluctant to take it back to Family Video tomorrow like he’d planned. Maybe he’ll keep it, late fee be damned.
“Y/N,” He hates the thought of waking you, but he hates the thought of inconveniencing his uncle even more, and you’re curled up on what will become Wayne’s pull-out.
“Y/N,” He tries again, soft and soothing as he taps your shoulder gently, “Wake up, we’ve gotta get you home.”
The clock only reads 10:23, but he’d feel guilty getting you home at an indecent hour. Typically, Eddie’s philosophy is etiquette be damned, but he has a feeling you wouldn’t be too happy about being dumped on your front porch after two in the morning.
“Y/N,” He slips a hand under your torso, his other sliding under your legs, “C’mon, wake up.”
You don’t. You must have really had trouble sleeping on your couch, because now that you’re dozing off, you don’t seem to wake up easily. Worry gnaws at Eddie’s chest as he hoists you into his arms and you don’t wake, only sighing contentedly and curling closer to him.
His eyes widen and his cheeks burn as you snuggle up to him unconsciously, your cheek pressed against his KISS-clad chest. Your nose nudges into his neck and he swears he sees stars, his knees weakening at the intimate contact like you hadn’t just been touching his lips hours beforehand.
“‘Gonna be the death of me,” He mutters, voice devoid of any real anger as he trudges down the hall to his room. His bed is neatly made, pillows stacked at the head that he reaches up and kicks down with one of his socked feet. It flops flat onto the mattress with a thump, and Eddie lowers you as carefully as humanly possible onto the bed. You aren’t too keen to let go, though, because your arms stay tightly wound around his neck. He tries straightening but you come right back up with him, brows scrunching in displeasure at being jostled around.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie laughs, lovestruck, “‘Gotta let go.”
“Eddie,” You mumble hazily, sound far too much like a lover he’s just accidentally jostled by getting out of bed to get ready for work in the morning, “Don’ go.”
“I can’t leave you here,” He reasons, returning your favor and smoothing out the wrinkle in your brows with his thumb, “I’ve gotta grab my keys and shoes, then we’ll take you home.”
“Nooo,” You whine, sleep tugging at your voice, “‘S too cozy here. I don’t wanna leave.”
“But no one knows you’re staying here,” Eddie’s afraid that your parents might come home early, discover their child missing, and storm his trailer with pitchforks, “Don’t you wanna head back home to your own bed?”
"Couch.” You mumble grouchily, “My parents aren't home," Your voice is groggy and weak, but Eddie swears it's more angelic than any hymn he's ever heard, "'S okay."
"Are you sure?" He reaches up, smooths a hand over your forehead then down your cheek without thinking, but before he can panic over the intimate gesture you're leaning into it, letting out a contented hum that quite reminds him of a kitten's purr.
"'M sure," You promise, already curling up cozily beneath his blanket, looking far too natural and perfect in a space you'd never occupied before, and Eddie feared, never would again.
"Okay." He's breathless and weak as your eyes drift shut, his hand lingering against the curve of your face, "G'night sweetheart."
He isn’t sure what to do from there. He could move his hand, he probably should move his hand, so that he doesn’t stand there for hours holding you, but that seems all the more tempting with every passing second. He marvels at his luck, how he’s managed to get to heaven without dying. Unless he is dead. But he’s almost certain he’ll be sent to hell for the sheer amount of drugs he’s sold to high school students, so he’s sure it isn’t that.
You must be an angel, he decides, one that isn’t afraid of the devil everyone says he is. He gets a brief vision of matching halloween costumes to that effect, a wiry halo perched on your head while devil ears adorn his. The scene’s unfiltered domesticity stuns him, along with how perfect it feels. It doesn’t feel awkward or forced, instead like something you’d come up with on the phone at ungodly hours and commit to months before the holiday.
He’ll bring the idea up to you tomorrow.
For now, he has to figure out where he’s sleeping. He’s not taking Wayne’s bed, but you’re in his, and that would be wrong.
Right?
Eddie studies the way your body is laid out on his mattress, knees tucked towards your chest and arms bundled up below your face, clutching the blanket he’d thrown over you. You take up a fraction of the mattress, the side that he normally sleeps on still unobscured.
Would it really be that bad if he laid opposite you? He wouldn’t touch you, he wouldn’t throw an arm over your waist, he wouldn’t tangle his legs with yours, he wouldn’t press a soft kiss to your forehead before drifting off. He wouldn’t.
He wants to, though.
He gives into another temptation, hopefully his last for the night, and lets himself indulge in your presence. He slides onto the end of the mattress, careful not to disrupt you as you slumber.
It feels weird, having someone in his bed beside him. Weird, but good. He decides, in fact, that there’s no better feeling aside from your fingers on his lips, than you in bed beside him. He stares up at the ceiling, willing the urge to kiss your nose away before he can screw up the best thing that’s happened to him in years.
One single, cautious glance thrown your way, and it’s all over.
Your hand is bared towards him, the smooth skin on the back of it in perfect kissing-range. He would be an idiot not to, right? That’s what gentlemen do, after all, they kiss the back of their lady’s hand. Typically not without her knowledge, or while she’s in bed with him, but it’s the principle of it, not the specific scenario.
He reaches for your hand hesitantly, and once his skin brushes yours he sees fireworks that light up the dark room. They nearly short out his vision, and when he sees clearly again, your hand is poised directly in front of his lips, his own hand still clutching it securely.
“Sleep good, sweetheart.” He whispers, near-inaudible in the darkness, then his lips press delicately against your hand.
Such unimaginable warmth and giddiness fill his chest, that he’s sure he’ll explode. There’s going to be Eddie Guts on the walls and ceiling, rotted sickly sweet from how infatuated with you he’s become in such a short time. Kissing you, albeit only your hand, feels like something he wants to do for the rest of his life, and he can only hope you’re gracious enough to grant him that privilege.
That’s a discussion for the morning, though, or never, Eddie reminds himself. He’s just kissed your hand in the middle of the night while you’re sleeping like a creep, he might not be too eager to admit that to you in the morning in a desperate plea to do it again. He refrains from peppering the rest of your skin in adoring kisses, but keeps your hand clutched in his own, marveling at the way that you can warm him up completely from a single touch.
It must be an angel thing, he decides, as he drifts off into a happy slumber, tomorrow he’ll ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven.
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson one-shot#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson headcanon#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson hc#eddie munson hcs#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson dialogue#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things
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hi! can you do a ethan laundry x reader where reader is ghostface too please ? (with smut if it’s possible)
Request: Riley!reader who wants to get revenge on sam for dewey’s death. She puts on the ghostface costume and is the mastermind for scream 6’s murders
I need someone to recreate this gif with
Warnings: mention of murders, scream 5 spoilers,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
After years of surviving the masked killers, your father lost his life during the last murder spree in Woodsboro.
All because of Samantha Carpenter. If she hadn’t gone to your father’s trailer and asked for his help, he wouldn’t have died in that hospital corridor. He would still be living his quiet life as a retired police officer with a slight drinking problem and spend his days watching shitty TV while thinking of all sorts of dumb excuses to call your mother — and hopefully one day rekindle their relationship.
But now he was gone and you wanted revenge. Revenge for taking your father from you. Revenge for killing all hopes for your parents to get back together. Revenge for making your mother so heartbroken.
You wanted to stab Samantha Carpenter and watch her bleed out.
Once you got back to New York and started college, you crossed paths with other people who had the same dark urge. A grieving father, and his two remaining kids — Richie Kirsh’s family.
‘’Quinn should go. She’s fast.’’
‘’Sam is strong,’’ the redhead reminded them, knowing her roommate better than everyone else around the table.
‘’Then Ethan should go.’’ You glanced at Ethan, sitting before you. ‘’Can you take Sam?’’
He hesitated. He was confident about the elder Carpenter, but what if someone else was at the apartment? ‘’What if Chad’s there? He’s getting close with Tara and Sam is not letting Tara out of her sight since the new wave of murders.’’
Chad could bring a challenge for Ethan. Amber was able to take him to the ground last year, but it was dark and she took him by surprise. You’d rather not take a chance.
‘’I think it would be better if we went for Gale next,’’ Bailey said, not agreeing with your plan. ‘’We have to finish Richie’s movie—’’
The second victim was going to be killed using Amber Freeman’s mask. The same mask that was used to kill your father.
You slammed your knife on the table you were all sitting at, making the faux-detective and his son jump. ‘’She’s my mother, you sick fuck,’’ you reminded the older man, not letting him finish his sentence. ‘’You will not touch a single hair on my mother’s head, got it? It’s Sam we wants, not her.’’
Although they were crime partners, they were disposable. If any of them dared touching Gale Weathers, it’s their blood that will spill next. There’s enough rage in your small body to take them down.
‘’And Tara,’’ Quinn added.
You shrugged, not really caring for the other Carpenter sister.
After everyone was dismissed, Quinn went back to her and Sam’s apartment and Bailey to the police station. You could see on his face that he was mad at you, but you were the one in charge.
A chair screeched on the old wood floor and Ethan came up to you, a dark look in his eyes. He looked like a mommy’s boy in his preppy polo from the Gap. You didn’t understand why he chose to dress up in a ‘character’. All he had to do was use a fake name and pretend to be nice to Chad.
‘’The way you talked to my dad gave me a boner,’’ he informed you, not even embarrassed by it.
You glanced down, seeing the tent in Ethan’s pants. ‘’He might be okay with killing his wife, but I would never harm my mother,’’ you said. Your eyes shifted back to Ethan’s face as you grabbed his belt to pull him closer. ‘’Besides, I’m the brain of the operation. I make the calls.’’
—
Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy @s-al-em @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres @miqi-16 @not-liah @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336 @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz @ilovelandry @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe @gizmodecaprio
All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity
#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry#ethan landry imagine#scream#scream 6#scream imagine#cleaning my drafts and requests
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Loading (New) Introduction...100%
Welcome, to Half Life VR Online, fellow player!
Hello players! This blog has been on hiatus for quite some time due to me (Mod John) and my partner, Mod Ben, being hyperfixated elsewhere. We still technically are- but since the big excitement about hlrvai 2's trailer has stirred up attention and my personal feelings regarding the fanbase i've decided to try and return to this blog. My partner won't be able to help me as much as when we started this blog due to various reasons, but i still consider this blog to be OUR blog nonetheless because i really valued making this AU together- so updates will be slow.
As a recap for what the AU and blog is about:
As you can see, this is a Hlvrai Au ask blog run by two mods where you follow Gordon Freeman, a video game streamer who has recently bought a recreation of his long time favorite game, and old classic, Half Life, but now as an Full Virtual Reality MMO created by a dying game company. However, something bugs out and now Gordon finds himself rushing to win the game with his strange party of other players caught in this situation like him.
You are a watcher of his streams, and can interact with them and influence what he or his party does simply by sending in asks!
You must escape HLVRO! Hopefully, all in one piece...
I have also Updated the reference sheets for characters that are important as of right now to fit the current art style:
Fun Mod Note: You can ask the players to use their skills and they might actually do it!~
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The Metallica Challenge
Eddie x fem!reader
Prompt: Y/n sends a tape of Eddie to a Metallica competition, and Eddie has the chance to play with them..
A/N: Eddie performed in the Upside Down like in Season 4, but he survived and still remarks it as the most ‘metal’ concert ever.
Warnings: Fluff
Masterlist
Let me know if you wanna be added to the Taglist!
Eddie loved when you brought out your camera to record him. It still amazed him that he found someone so supportive of him; with most of the town snickering at him or telling him that he’s waisting his life trying to pursue his music career, you knew he had what it took to make it.
There was nothing you loved more than capturing him in his element.
“Come on, just one more take!” You smiled at him.
He did as what was asked him, secretly loving the attention. “Its not the same, I can recreate that.”
He, of course, was referring to his world-ending performance of ‘Master Puppets’ in the Upside down. It killed you inside knowing that among the chaos of everything, you didn’t have your camera on you to document such a special moment in history.
“You’re still doing great babe.”
Since returning back to Hawkins, the two of you were inseparable. Which, was making your surprise for him rather difficult. A few weeks ago, you overhead on the radio of a nation-wide competition for Metallica. They wanted videos to be sent in, with people playing their songs. Whoever looked the most ‘professional’ or played to perfection, would be given a chance to perform with them at the end of the year in their ‘New Year’s Eve’ showdown.
It wasn’t surprising that not many people in your home town new about it, hell... you don’t even think anyone knew who Metallica was. But you looked into it the best you could, and found that there were a few recommendations the band has stated over the last few weeks to help the possible winner.
As it turns out, they wanted more than just an audition video.... they wanted a story. So you captured Eddie during things that made him him.
Sure you had footage of him playing in multiple different settings, but you knew you had to include how he was in his D&D games, how his dark aesthetic stood out against the woods with smoke floating around him from whatever drug he was inhaling, and the way he is on stage.
“And cut! Absolutely perfect!” You kissed his cheek, his hands floated to your waist and he didn’t loosen his grip.
“At this stage, I don’t know how you haven’t run out of film yet.”
He always got like this after he played, so high off adrenaline that the two of you would seamlessly blend together for hours on end. He kissed along your neck, moving your hair out the way.
“Eds, I gotta finish up one thing... then we can continue.”
“Hurry back...” he winked at you, giving you a final squeeze of your hips.
___________________________________________________________________
The competition deadline was two weeks ago. You were surprised at yourself that you managed to compile such an amazing video of him, and keep it a secret for so long.
You were always on edge whenever the mail got delivered, rushing past him to make sure you could see if the acceptance came through. There was no set date for when they were going to announce the winner; or if it would be by mail or over the radio.
Eddie could tell that you were on edge the entire time.
“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” He said over the phone. He graduated from High school a few months ago and managed to get two part time jobs, one at the record store and one as an apprentice at the mechanic. You insisted that he didn’t need to take both, but he wanted to make sure that you both would get a head-start with saving money.
“I’m sure- I think it’s just stress from house hunting...” you looked out the window of the trailer, your eyes widening when you saw the mail man drop a rather large envelope through your door. “I-I gotta go! Talk to you tonight, love ya.”
You were rushing and didn’t even give him a chance to respond before you slammed the phone and ran to the mail. You were shaking, your brain not moving nearly as fast enough to catch up with the words your eyes were scanning through.
‘Dear Edward ‘Eddie’ Munson,
We are honoured to see how much of a dedicated fan you are to Rock Music and our band. Your video stood out amongst the thousands of entries, and we wish to congratulate you in winning-’
“Ahhhh! Fuck yes!” You screamed, not even bothering with the rest of the letter.
The rest of the day was spent making all of Eddie’s favourites meals, renting his favourite movie and wearing his favourite set of panties under your jeans and t-shirt.
Dinner was already prepared as soon as he came home, where he found you sitting on the table that was set for two.
“Hi, sweetheart!” You said, rushing up to kiss his cheek. You grabbed his coat and tool kit, placing them in your usual spots.
“Hello.... What’s all this?” He raised his eyebrow. “I mean, not that I’m complaining but you’ve been so stressed lately, are you sure everything’s alright?”
You nodded, the two of you now sitting down at the table. “I actually have something very exciting to tell you.”
You smiled, nerves slowly setting back in as you lean behind you to grab the letter. When you turned back to see him, you saw he had tears forming in his eyes.
“Eddie?”
His whole body was shaking, his hands covering his face. “I- I promise I am excited about this- I mean, sure it’s a little earlier than what we could have planned, but I want nothing more than to start a family with you and if its happening right now then I’m still-”
“Woah. Hang on! Family with me?” you interrupted him, “What are you talking about?”
“You’re pregnant. That’s the big surprise, no? It explains the nerves and you’re all on edge.” he got up from his seat and got down on both knees in front of you. His hands cupping your face, “I love you and I’ll support you and the baby with everything I have.”
Happy tears....
You brushed his hair out of his face. “I love you too Eddie, and whilst I already knew you be a great father when the time comes...... that’s not the surprise I had. I’m not pregnant Eddie.”
“You’re not?!”
You laughed, “No, but I want you to read this.”
You handed him the letter, giving him however long he needed to process. After a few seconds of his big brown eyes reading the letter, they grew wide and he looked at you. “What is this?”
“Well, you know how I’ve been recording almost everything you do... and I always tell you that you’re the best guitarist on the planet,” he was breathing heavy and his eyes so dilated you didn’t think they were even able to focus on your face, “as it turns out, Metallica agrees and you get to play with them on New Years.”
His mouth moved but no words came out, only more tears. He threw the letter onto the table and threw himself on you. He’s only ever hugged you once like this, when the two of you thought your time together was coming to an end as the demobats circled around you.
“Eddie? Are you happy?” You asked.
He nodded, crying slightly more for only a few more seconds before he started to scream with excited and jump around the room. You laughed watching him, bringing his attention back to you by showing your whole face in kisses.
You got up and lead him to the bedroom, “I have one way you can really show me how much you- Ah!”
He threw you over his shoulder and ran the rest of the way. There you spent the rest of the night appreciating each other’s bodies; the meal you prepared completely disregarded.
_________________________________________________________________
“Okay, we got everything.” You said, double checking your checklist once more. The two of you were fully packed on the way to the airport. Flight, tickets, accomodation all pre-paid as part of the winning prize.
As the days grew closer to New Years, the nervous Eddie became. You held his hand during the plane ride. You gave him a moment of space as he met the band for the first time. And, you reassured him before he was set to take the stage.
“Hey, look at me. You’ve defeated literal demons and stopped hell on earth. You got this.” You kissed him quickly.
He nodded, joining them on stage. He looked like he was exactly where he belongs. You recorded the entire thing, how could you not?
He performed three songs with them, his fingers running wild along the strings and his body moving to the beat of the music.
“Give it up for Eddie Munson!” The lead singers screamed, the crowed slowly followed and erupted in screams so loud you were sure your friends back in Hawkins could have heard. “Now who’s ready!”
The screen behind them started to display the 10 second count down of the New Year. Eddie held out his hand to you and pulled you on stage.
“Three! Two! One!”
He kissed you so passionately, not giving a single care in the world over the thousands of people seeing you from the crowed.
“Happy New Year!”
Your kiss continued, and it said everything it needed to. You were both right exactly where you were meant to be.
_______________________________________________________________________A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! This came to me randomly yesterday and I just couldn’t get it out of my head.
Eddie Munson Taglist
@fentyreligion @littlelunarfox @coconutchumby @eempxth @superflannel @fluffycookies22
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader fluff#spiderman#stranger things#eddie munson x you#joseph quinn
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I’m Not Really There (To Be Fair, I’m A Cameo)
by Sharpbutsoft (BuckysButt)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Character: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington
Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Recreational Drug Use, Canon-Typical Violence, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, POV Eddie Munson, Character Study, one chapter per season of stranger things
Words: 6,144
Chapters: 4/4
Summary
It’s not that Eddie’s unaccustomed to late night callers, exactly - his uncle’s antisocial night hours at the plant are pretty good for business, actually. But usually late night means, like, a little after ten. Or midnight. Or maybe one am, on a weekend.
Not ten past four in the goddamn morning.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Steve Harrington says, by way of a greeting, standing on Eddie’s porch like a kicked puppy.
“I can see that.” It’s a decently coherent answer, with his brain still tucked into bed ten feet away.
“Can you sell me something that’ll help?”
-
Or, the three times Steve goes to Eddies trailer looking for something to take the edge off, and the one time Eddie finds out why Steve looks so haunted.
Written for rogha, who made the mistake of sending me a fic prompt on tumblr.
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An Apartment of Our Own
My contribution to the genre of fics exploring the in-universe OMITB fandom, Theobel style. Any similarities to any actual Tumblr blogs or fanfics is purely coincidental, and of course, this is all in good fun.
(In order to recreate Mabel's style of speaking and signing at the same time, as in the show, the signed parts of her dialogue are underlined. Because Tumblr doesn't allow for underlining, this fic will continue on AO3 here or below in the place I found it silliest and most fun.)
They never hid their friendship.
Sure, Mabel gave it a good six weeks before she casually let it slip to the guys that her and Theo hang out. Just so she could come up with a few solid rebuttals if they gave her pushback. (‘Charles, you dated a serial killer.’ ‘Theo’s actually pretty fun to be around.’ 'According to greater society, we shouldn't be friends either.' 'I don't let old men tell me what to do.')
(Okay, they were about as solid as Oliver’s dips.)
(When the conversation came, Oliver was weirdly supportive about it. Charles looked exactly how he did when she first mentioned dating Alice.)
And yeah, she gave it an additional few months before she mentioned it to her mom. The distance gave her time and she wanted extra confidence the good feeling she and Theo had around each other wasn't a haze that would soon lift. She wanted the shitty phone call to be worth it. And it was. He was worth it.
But they never hid it. Not really. Not in public. If, last autumn, a fan of the pod posted a blurry five second video of two people who might possibly, maybe, be them using ASL in the winding path of the basement of an antique shop in midtown, well, she didn’t let it concern her.
Superfans aside, as the months dragged on without her involvement in another stabbing incident and/or murder, not many people cared about Bloody Mabel. Equally, she cared less and less about strangers' opinions.
Then Ben Glenroy died twice.
It wasn't like with Bunny; Mabel wasn't so unbearably close to the story. Still, the internet talks, and Theo got a writing credit for that season 3 teaser trailer he wrote. Questions were raised they still hasn't answered.
“Have you seen this?” Theo holds up his phone, shakes it slightly. His lips twitch, amused... or nervous?
Mabel sets her knitting aside, leans forward on the couch, and recognizes the website.
And the blog.
She furrows her brow, and takes his phone.
The Tumblr is onlyarconicsinthebulldogging, and they've reblogged from frogfuckergirl555. She has no idea who frogfuckergirl555 is, or if they're a frequent poster. For the briefest second, she feels almost proud of herself for that.
The post is a simple sentence, followed by a link.
Idk what this is but they’re kinda cute together??? especially if the rumors are true???
There's an emoji sequence in the tags that only grows Mabel's wariness: 😭😭😭👌🏻👌🏻🔥🔥🔥
She gives Theo another long, long look.
He doesn’t blush, exactly. He squirms in his chair like he regrets bringing knowledge of this— what she swiftly imagines with a level of visual accuracy only possible through prolonged proximity— onto himself.
“Open— read it!” he signs quick and jerky, like Mabel wouldn’t understand at all without context. "Please," he adds, and crosses his legs.
The suspense might be killing him. She, however, could live very happily not knowing the details of what people imagine they get up to, what precisely those aforementioned rumors are. If she doesn’t do her research though, if she chooses to live in blissful ignorance, the universe will surely send Marv her way to clear it all up for her.
She clicks the link, opens up Archive of Our Own.
#theobel#only murders in the building#omitb#mabel mora#theo dimas#fanfiction#my fanfic tag#fic: an apartment of our own
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johnjess + maximum mary may inconvenience
HI STELLA THANK YOU so. this technically maybe still counts for the prompt since probably about five sentences of it actually are nsfw. but it did in fact turn into a full fic of them being annoying so for that i am sorry to everyone, especially mary may (although she’s spared directly bearing witness to them today)
summary: john and jessie go for a joy ride.
wordcount: 2.5k
warnings: explicit sexual content, physical violence. not mutually exclusive, per usual they cannot decide if they want to beat the shit out of each other or fuck so they go back and forth. john busts in his pants as decided by the voters. widowmaker slander. mary may suffering implied.
It was a particularly tacky chess piece they currently warred over, Jestiny thought, even by his standards.
Certainly not worth all the pawns left bleeding out on the board as the two remaining players resorted to wrestling head-to-head for it.
From the migraine-inducing neon pink blending to blue gradient to the flames reaching out from the gaudy chrome plated grill to the proud design of a bald eagle screeching over stars and stripes decorating the sleeper cabin, well…
It was an extremely ugly truck.
“O-Oh, fuck me, I want —”
But he looked extremely pretty shoved against the side of it.
“I want you to hand over the goddamn keys to this piece of shit,” she grunted in interruption, willing herself to stay focused on the mission she’d set out to accomplish despite feeling just what he wanted very clearly along the front of his jeans as she thrust her hands into his pockets in search.
His chest heaved against hers as he drew in a breath to speak more sharply, as if suddenly reminded that he was being thrown against the side of a semi-trailer as part of an ongoing struggle between their respective militias over the vehicle and not simply for recreation. “Well, I want you to give up on these childish games and face the gravity of your — Oh, fuck —”
Despite the rekindled contempt he nonetheless hiked a leg up as if appeasing her demand, the rubber of his shoes squealing against metal siding followed closely behind by a jingle of keys falling easily from the baggy confines of his pocket, with no added tightness reaching the backside of his jeans.
She caught the keys in her palm, throwing them to the opposite hand then reaching up to grip the back of his thigh and hold it in place as she gave the keyring a spin around her finger — leaning in to press lips against those pursed in some limbo between spitting out insults and cooing honeyed pleas, kissing him slow and deep, as if she could literally savor the victory from it.
The irony of giving a victory kiss to the very man whose defeat she celebrated was not lost on her.
She gave a soft snort of laughter at the thought as she pulled back, playfully brushing her nose against his in parting before darting to the side to hop up the running board and throw the driver’s side door open.
As she climbed inside she couldn’t resist tossing her head back to catch a parting glimpse of the oh so satisfying look of incredulity fixing itself on John’s face, jaw dropped and brow pinched downward and eyes bulging as if in bewilderment that she would have the audacity to actually use the keys she’d spent so much effort wrestling him for.
He remembered his faculty for language first, his jaw twitching to speak. “I hope you enjoy just how excruciating the realization of the complete futility of your actions is going to be!” He remembered his faculty for movement next, darting forward to wedge his shoulder against the doorframe before she could pull it to shut. “That every sin you’ve committed has done nothing but deprive the righteous and deserving of —”
She kicked the door outward so as to pull it in again and slam it shut on his shoulder. “This is what you fuckin’ deserve!” She kicked his battered shoulder to send him tumbling to the ground. “And I hope that was fuckin’ excruciating!”
She slammed the door shut as she turned the key in the ignition and waited for the truck to slowly rumble to life.
She paused a moment before reaching for the gearshift, instead throwing her hand to the left to crank the window down. She leaned her head out of the window, glancing down at him one last time.
She also had to admit he looked very pretty bruised up and bloodied and on his knees, trembling arms grasping in a feeble effort to crawl his way up the side of The Widowmaker.
She licked her lips, hanging her arm out the window to slap her palm against the side of the door before raising the hand in an exaggerated wave of ‘goodbye.’
“Happy fucking trails, John!” she called through the window, shoving the gear into drive and ramming her boot down onto the gas. “I’m hauling out!”
A blur of dark blue shot across her periphery as the truck slowly crept forward, quickly materializing as freckled and black inked arms flung over the ledge of the window just as the vehicle slowly lurched forward past the opening garage door and rolled along the short gravel drive.
“I hope you don’t mind extra cargo!”
He dove through the window, flinging his body across her lap as he landed, just as the grill of the truck crashed through the chain link gates.
She clenched her fists against the wheel as she felt it slip unexpectedly to the right beneath her fingers, flexing her arms to resist the force of intruding hands jerking it in an effort to steer the truck away from the path back to town.
“You’re gonna end up as fucking roadkill!” she shouted as she yanked the wheel back towards the left with one hand, the other loosening its grip long enough for her to swing an elbow down to land between his shoulder blades and knock him to the floorboards. “Either from you crashing us and getting us killed or else from me bashing your fucking brains out on the pavement!”
“Oh, yes!” he cried with sarcastic enthusiasm, craning his neck to look up at her from his place landed at her feet. “There’s that wrath, that insatiable need for senseless destruction! That relentless bloodlust driving you to —” She thrust a hand downward to bunch in his hair, yanking him up by it to intercept the conspicuous creeping of his hand towards the brake pedal as he rose. “Oh, yes,” he repeated lower and more breathy as she tightened her grip, a rosy flush spreading along his cheeks and making her suddenly process the familiar position of his head at her lap. “Th-There’s — that feels —”
She briefly lifted her foot off the gas, just long enough to swing the leg outward to hook around his neck and guide his head between her thighs properly before planting back on the accelerator.
“God, you make me so…” he trailed off with a defeated whine, concern over their big rig tug-of-war seeming to melt away with his wilting into the caress of her fingers along his scalp, hands abandoning any effort to wrestle control of the truck in favor of working at the buttons of her shorts and pulling them down past her thighs.
She willed her eyes to stay open and focused on the road as she allowed her head to fall back with the dizzying glide of pleasure flooding from the press of his mouth against her.
“See?” she hummed, weaving her last remaining thread of composure into her words to lace them solid despite the tremor threatening to slip into her voice. “Doesn’t it feel better to be where you belong and behaving instead of being a fucking problem for once?”
She could feel the electricity of bright blue eyes shooting open to lock onto her face in response just as tangibly as she could the slide of his tongue, the thrill it sent shivering through her just as powerful. So powerful she couldn’t resist sparing a quick glance down to meet his gaze, stroking her hand along the top of his head and down the nape of his neck in encouragement and delighting in the upward furrow of his brow it drew.
It was a sight so lovely it caused heat to flare, the drumming of her pulse to ratchet up to a heavy pounding, a harsh thudding that almost seemed to shake the frame of the truck itself as —
She realized with a forward jolt the thud she felt did not come from the cavern of her chest, but from the collision of the grill of the truck with a hastily placed roadblock of eggshell white vehicles she easily plowed through.
A body bouncing along the windshield to leave behind a smear of blood and spiderweb of splintering glass was perhaps one of the best wake up calls a girl could get that she really shouldn’t be doing what she was doing at the moment.
And getting road head from a murderous cult leader decidedly numbered among things Jessie shouldn’t be doing.
He seemed to reach a similar realization in the same instant, giving two heavy blinks before once again grabbing for the brake and steering wheel just as she lifted a foot to kick him back towards the passenger’s seat.
But the sharp jerk of the wheels to the left sent her flying across the cabin instead, her skull knocking against the glove compartment as she landed.
“Ah,” John sighed with sarcastic pity, giving her an exaggerated shake of his head as he hopped up into the seat. “Perhaps that will teach you the importance of wearing a seat belt.” He clicked his into place with a dramatic flourish of his arm in punctuation. “Since you refuse to learn anything else.”
“Why you fuckin’ —” she only briefly paused to cradle the aching side of her skull before lunging forward, hands shooting towards the straps of the seat belt. “We’ll see how much good a seat belt is gonna do you!” she shouted, fighting to keep her balance despite the stars dancing along her vision and the further bumpy careening of the car to the right as John hurriedly spun the wheel to reverse their course. She mustered her strength to snap the seat belt taut and pull it against his throat, fists pulling the ends they bunch around towards the headrest to cut off his air.
With a choked gasp he brought one hand to the seat belt to claw at the strap and pull it away — the other hand rushing to join it a second later when the force proved insufficient, leaving the wheel clear and unmanned.
Jestiny quickly seized the opening, finally releasing the seat belt to instead wrap her hands around the steering wheel and pull herself forward.
She threw an elbow back to jab into his stomach and knock the breath he’d managed to suck in right back out as she lowered herself to sit atop his lap in the driver’s seat, stomping a foot down on his to jam on the gas pedal as she spun the wheel to its limits to send the the truck in yet another full reversal.
“Jessie,” he hissed out hoarsely, hot breath falling against her back through the thin fabric of her t-shirt as he continued gasping for air. “You need to get the fuck up right now and let me drive this monstrosity back to its rightful place.”
Seems like he recovered fast, unfortunately. Freshly strangled and he still couldn’t shut up.
But at least they could agree on the monstrosity part.
“I think I’ll stay right fucking here,” she chirped in reply, scooting back and side to side in a pantomime of settling into place. “Bein’ my seat cushion may be the first useful thing you ever do in your fucking life.”
Although she could feel as she shifted against him that there was very little cushion to be found — sharp ridges of hip bones cut towards conspicuous hardness straining as tightly as ever against denim.
He recovered fast.
“You are the most stubborn, infuriating, obstinate…” he panted against her shoulder as he buried his face into it, hips flexing beneath her in unsteady rhythm, “impossible, difficult —”
“Hard?” she offered, flashing a smirk towards the rear view mirror so he could see it as she set a pace grinding back against him. “To deal with?”
He humphed in complaint, leaned forward and reached to settle his hands at the wheel beneath hers, barely peeking over her shoulder to look through the windshield. “You have —” he drew in a sharp breath. “No idea — what the fuck you’re doing. You —”
“I have a pretty fucking good idea,” she replied with another wriggle of her hips, a rush of satisfaction swelling inside her as she felt firm pressure drag along the seam of her shorts and moved to cover his hands with her own to easily overpower his weak efforts to turn the wheel and resume their struggle.
“Fuck!” She felt fingers flex beneath hers with a final tensing of his muscles — followed by broken cry and a frantic, uncontrolled upward buck of his hips as his grip broke from the wheel completely to instead wrap arms around her waist, burying his face against her back as he clung to her, entire body shuddering beneath her.
But his shaking was quickly overshadowed by the rough bouncing of the truck itself — her brain belatedly taking stock of the fact the wheel had been jerked sharply to the left, the sudden absence of his resisting force giving her no time to ease back her own and resulting in her steering the car off the road entirely.
“Fuck!” she shouted in turn, attempting to jerk the wheel back in the direction of the road only to have the bumper meet the ledge of the ditch they’d swerved into — the arms wrapped around her waist all that kept her from flying from her seat again. Instead, she merely banged her head against the steering wheel as they were thrown forward, a harsh screech of metal against metal filling the air.
She lifted head pulsing with pain to see the view of a solid wall of dirt greeting her, topped off with a mangled length of guardrail impaling the hood of the truck.
“Well, now nobody gets it,” Jessie grumbled in defeat, kicking a boot against the door in frustration and crossing her arms over her chest.
John slowly blinked bleary eyes to open, trailing along the length of the windshield to assess the damage before settling on her face.
“I hope you’re satisfied,” he huffed, smoothing a hand over his hair as if it could help him to regain some composure. “This is the fruit of your labor,” he said, waving a hand at the wreckage in front of them.
“Not as satisfied as some of us, maybe,” she scoffed, nodding down at his lap.
He cleared his throat, turning his head away from her. “It was a very bumpy ride,” he said. He kept his gaze down, fingers slowly moving towards her waistband. “But I can make it up to you, if —”
“Oh, you’re gonna,” she spat back firmly, shifting in his lap to face him and shoving a hand against his collarbone. “Not like we’re fucking going anywhere,” she added with a roll of her eyes, sliding off of his lap and between the seats, pulling him along by the wrist towards the sleeper cabin behind them.
Maybe they could get some use out of this stupid, hideous truck. He did recover fast, after all.
And looked very pretty kneeling on the floorboards.
#oc: deputy jestiny ellen#otp: stop bothering these nice folks#writies and wordies#nsft#written in part due to me realizing jessie definitely crashes the widowmaker but plot may be too tight for it to happen in wildfire proper#so this can be considered wildfire supplemental canon. but definitely canon.#also assume the crashed widowmaker stays there and becomes one of their regular fuck spots#sorr — (remembers that thanking instead of apologizing is healthier for you and your relationships)#*thank you* for allowing me to prematurely ejaculate in the widowmaker#and etc#also yes im posting at clown times once again
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I am already bothering you because of the OS2 trailer lol but I want to express my theories so here they are:
NLMG: I agree with the time traveling theory! with the outfits and setting it's giving Palm and Nueng sent back in time where Palm seems to be the rich one
MLC: soul/body swap as people where saying for a wile, or a different hniverse where everithing is swapped(wich I think could be more probable cuz they all swapped not only Tinn and Gun
ABAAB: same as MLC or as you said a roleplay so that Cher can experience what Gun does
BBS: no clue... people seems to think it's a body/soul swap as well considering some of the scenes shown
ATOTS-SIMM: maybe just vibes and cute times for the couple, to for Phupa Tian people seems to think it's also a body/soul swap but to me not so much
The Eclipse: Wat making a short movie for a film festival in Phuket and he involved all his friends(e.g. the Brokeback Mountin looking scene) we saw them in the bts in front of some theatre
anyway this is my take we will know in a little over a week so!
Still this trailer made me holler in lughter! and twitter dod too the trailer and the comments of it gave me so much joy! can't wait for it!
hi anon!
thank you for sending in your thoughts!! here's what I think:
NLMG: judging from their outfits and the setting, I'm pretty sure that theory is correct. they could even be travelling through multiple different eras before waking up in their time, which is actually something they hinted at before but I couldn't put it together back then lol. so yeah. it makes sense.
MSP (I'm assuming MLC is a typo because if not then I have some bad news for you lmao): I honestly don't know where people are getting this body swap theory from lmao. the trailer did not suggest that? or maybe I'm just blind. I still don't like body swaps but if that's what's happening then let's see how it goes.
ABAAB: the role switch thing seems pretty legit to me. From what I can tell I don't think it's a body swap though, probably just Cher wanting to reverse the roles and knowing him it's gonna be for some kink reason dfjkgdf
BBS: no idea either. the very small amount of footage that we got didn't really look any different from the original show tbh so I'm not sure what they're gonna do. It's possible that it won't be anything elaborate. And I once again want to throw out there that they filmed this whole thing in 2 days lmao. So I'm not expecting much.
ATOTS & SIMM: I agree about both. We didn't get any footage from SIMM since they just wrapped filming today but I also think it's gonna be a compilation of some cutesy-boyfie moments which I'm very much okay with lol. Same with ATOTS.
The Eclipse: The wat-short-film theory seems to be the general consensus and I think it's very likely. Wat makes a movie where they recreate old movies such as Golden Eagle, Brokeback Mountain and others and I think that makes sense. At first I thought there might be some universe-travel involved but not anymore. And I actually really like that idea tbh.
I'm super excited for all the episodes 🥺 it's been such a long drought lmao so I'm happy we're getting all of them back!! 🥺💜
xxx
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One piece live action review #1
There's a lot of good things but also some bad things. In general, I think the live action was really enjoyable, the pacing was good (maybe a little too fast but it's understandable why), almost every change fits good and for what I have seen, I think every main character and side characters feel in character withh their priginal counterparts.
The ost wasn't as great as our dear original ost but it was pretty good as well, the cinematography esencially is the best, not only in the one piece standsrt but in the anime live action standar, I would say it's on the same level of "Erased" cinematography.
Now, I have saiid a lot of good things of tecnical stuff but what about the story?
There wasn't a couple of changes that I pretty much enjoyed while watching it.
1. The way Luffy gets to introduced to Cobh, Alvida en everything.
Obviously, following the anime and manga route and reoolicating the exact movements and things to say would be leas to a cringey failure, we can't replicate anime expressions neither their comedic gags so they have to changed it and adapt it which was a great decision.
The scenes have the same vibe and love as the original but in a more "realistic" way to adapt to real people.
2. Luffy as a kid and his way to eat the gomu gomu no mi.
That kid nailed it completely in every way, he nailed it, did an incredible job replicating Luffy's stubborning and admiration for shanks, he was great and I like the way they made him eat his devil fruit.
Sure the scene is not as iconic as the original but it feels special and magic and also pretty funny.
The red shanks pirates nailed it as well, I think they showed the comfortable vibe that they have in the manga/anime.
3. Coby.
I think the best characterization from the first episode was Coby, the actor did a great job on portraying his fears and insecurities. It's a pity they couldn't show more of his participation.
4. Nami, Zoro and Luffy.
Their dynamic was really funny to see, I was worried at the beginning when I saw the first trailer but now nowing the context I understand why they changed it, still, their sheninigans were really funny and have a great chemistry.
5. Captain Morgan and Helmeppo.
They really adapted them well, in a really good way, I think they did a great job.
6. Buggy.
I don't need to clear nothing, good my hormones are crazy for that clown.
Now, even that I generally emjoyed the episode and adaptation, there were also things I didn't like.
*clearing that I am not taking account things like cgi because they actually did an incredible work with the cgi or stupid nitpickings but more like scenes that I think they could be make but they decide to not do it, as well as some (just one) characterization.
1. Luffy's characterization.
NOT HATE TO IÑAKI HE DID GREAT.
I understand why they couldn't adapt Luffy as the original, it would ended up horrible and cringey and Iñaki did a great job capturing Luffy escence and spirit, there were a few times that I thought:"Wow that's something Luffy would do" but in general, I do think his characterization is pretty oc, nothing that would stop me to watch the series but it something thag I had to say it, hell, even Oda himself admit that there were things Luffy wouldn't say or act but it was alright.
Please send love to Iñaki, it's another fellow mexican actor that I am supporting so this is not hate or anyhing.
2. Hopefully they change Garp's vibe.
I think since the very beginning in the original we knew that Garp wasn't normal lol but here he is so much more serious, I hope this is only a question to hide his relating to Luffy like Oda did in the manga with the whole dog mask.
3. This scenes.
Shanks and the bandit.
I don't think it was a bad scene but I think they could recreat the original scene with no so much problem, they added Zoro's fight with the baroque work member, so I doubt they couldn't recreate Shanks getting humilliation from the bandit.
More because it will become a single during Jaya arc, showing Luffy's grow and understanding towards his pirate life, we all knew this parallel and I think it is important because we really didn't need words to understand how much Luffy's view has changed, it's that subtle message that feels so close and personal to us.
The scene is good but it didn't have a lot of impact.
Zoro and the little girl.
They did a great job, everything is great and this little complain is more like a stupid nitpicking by myself but I think the scene is less impactful in so many ways even if it's the same, I understand why they changed but it's still, I enjoyed in generall but I haave to say this.
4. Haircolor
Sorry but I am actually ranting about this, the haircolors look so bad, it took me completely put, just bad, it looks fake for exception of Coby and maybe Zoro but god, I hate the way they made them look so bright and put of entonation.
Conclusion.
It was a good show, a great anime live action, easily one of the best in the list (sorry but for me Erased is the best LA) but an incredble adaptation, I can see the love and dedication and they did a fantastic work.
*Ps. I started laughing so hard with the den dem mushi.
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Done with work, I am in a funky headspace. I think I've reached the I have zero fucks left to give stage at work. I got so mad at some of these inept chucklefucks I just started reporting their fuckups to my sup. Which you're supposed to do but no one likes a fucking rat. I'm not here to try and jam people up and so I feel like a real asshole whenever I do that. But the AMOUNT of fuck ups I see in the business side of things is staggering. And I'm tired of catching shit from customers because these other people are fucking idiots who cannot do basic parts of their jobs.
So fuck it. I'm just reporting them from here on out.
I'm trying to unwind from a stressful day suffice it to say. I should probably work on Seeds. I just finished a kinda hilarious Myles and Mace get interrupted mid-fooling around in the shower by Jaster who was worried Myles was kidnapped since he sorta got...distracted by Mace and things that happened before they pounced one another into bed. Debating if I need to raise the rating on this fic now because of this one scene or if I can just put a warning saying hey spicey stuff ahead, skip or don't cry to me in the chapter notes and call it good.
I did TECHNICALLY write stuff today so it's not like I'm skimping on my goal to write at least SOMETHING once a day (unless obvious extenuating circumstances come up) and I've been pretty dang good about sticking to this goal which is why I've prolly written like 50+ since January on this fic.
The thing is I really just want to fuck off and read Thranto fanfic tonight. LOL Seeing Thrawn in that trailer has awakened my un-ending thirst for these two. And I have some really juicy fics saved on my tablet I kinda have a yen to re-read. Or maybe I can go through AO3 and see if any new fun fics have been posted since the last time I fell down this rabbithole like...six months ago?
I wish I had a bottle of wine but I DO have lots of hard booze. I bought some peach liqueur a few months ago because I wanted to try and recreated this amazing peach-flavored old fashioned I had at a fancy restaurant in San Antonio last Christmas.
Getting tipsy and re-reading Failover or the UMPTEMPTH time or maybe re-reading the bloody entirety of Winterverse sounds like an awesome way to spend my Friday night.
Yeah, I think I'm going to do that. -shovels own guilt in the closet-
And if anyone has some fire rec send them my way. I generally stick with the stuff I know is great and I like but I'm open to suggestions.
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Hey Archer! I’ve seen that you do theories on upcoming episodes of Bad Buddy based on the teasers. I don’t know if you’ve had enough time to analyze the teaser for episode 7, but I’d love to hear your thoughts when you have the time. What you think will happen, what you hope will happen, what will for sure happen. I trust your opinion and I look forward to seeing it every week!
I’d love to know what your predictions are for this upcoming episode!
Thank you as always!
hello, dear!! thank you so much for the trust you put in me, but i must admit this is the first time when i see the teaser for the next episode more as pieces of a broken vase than pieces of a puzzle in a sense that i am going to try my best to put them together, but i feel like i'll definitely not be able to recreate the whole thing.
the thing that bothers me the most at the moment is that i have no clue what order all the things i'm going to be talking about will be in. so instead of presenting a sequence of events like i usually do, i will just discuss all the scenes we will see separately.
so we will obviously have both of them flirting, and they are going to be flirting A LOT throughout the whole episode (which is what most scenes from the teaser show), but otherwise, there are a few specific things that are worth pointing out.
we have this scene, which is once again a lot of flirting:
however, we also see this in the trailer (yes, i take the best screenshots /j):
which is basically just pat freaking out over something, but now that we know he is wearing the same shirt here, i assume that this is him freaking out over the flirting that occurred in the scene before (or maybe pran sends him a text message in this scene after all that's already happened, and it's like a nail in the coffin). i do wonder if pa (who we know is there in that scene as well) will figure something out here, or if her brain is still on a 24/7 ink lockdown (which gods bless tbh, but maybe reflect a bit on that babe), though i do not think that either pat or pran will be directly telling anyone about their feelings and/or relationship at this point in time.
there is also the already beloved "do you still want to be friends?" - "do you?" scene:
here, i think they will still be very much into the competition of it all. pran is pushing pat to his limit and then asking that question, trying to get an answer out of him, and pat intentionally answers with a question, trying to get the same answer out of pran. i think this is something we will see a lot of this episode - them almost getting there, but not quite, because they are still trying to win the stupid bet.
we also have a conversation on the rooftop, where pran says "you and i are both tight-lipped. we will never reveal our feelings if nothing pushes us to do so":
which seems like a pretty lighthearted moment overall (because look how smiley pat is there), but i do think it shows us the issue we will run into this episode, which is exactly that they both won't give in - in part due to keeping that genuine serious confession close to their chests, and in part due to simple competitiveness.
to be honest, i'm not sure what that push might be, but i do have one idea. we definitely know that this scene from the trailer and this scene from the teaser are waiting for us next episode one after another (they are definitely wearing the same clothes here, we have gotten the first moment from a number of angles - there is no doubt about it):
i think that it goes in the order i put the screenshots in because essentially i think that they are gonna be hanging out in pat's room being adorable and flirty, but then someone will come over and pran will ask pat to hide. this is also why pat is coming out of pran's room, while pran looks like he is just coming up to it - pran went to make sure that whoever visited him (whether it be wai or someone else) definitely left, and he has just returned from seeing them off, while pat finally comes out of hiding and is clearly very upset by the whole situation.
i think amidst all this playful flirting and childish competitiveness, the thing that could be the "push" towards one of them admitting their feelings is a serious moment that suddenly occurs. and this could be it. the whole episode will be so cute and lighthearted, but suddenly we will have this moment, where pat is very genuinely sad about what's happened. and i see where the people who think that pat will be the first to confess are coming from, but wouldn't it be just incredible if it was pran? if after this happens, pran goes to pat and says that he doesn't care and that he's ready to lose because he wants pat to know that he loves him, he needs pat to know that he loves him. and so pran will be the one who gives in first, and we're getting happy official boyfriends by the end of the episode this way!!
#im so bothered by the fact that i have no idea what order these go in#bad buddy#archer responds#jiminieejamzz
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