#Shoot the Shaggy Dog

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Ultimately, the Inspector and Emerald were unable to save anyone from AceSpace,

since the AceSpacers believed that their youth was enough to protect them from whatever the world outside of the dome had in store for them.

‘We could save you lot, if you just let us. You don’t know what’s waiting for you out there.’

[minihotdog]

Caught Red handed // Part 2

Summary: Soap Catches His Roommate Reading an Erotic Novel AGAIN

Part 1

Pairing: John "Soap" Mactavish x Fem!Reader

a/n: I've been sick as a dog and I'm not the happiest about how this one turned out so I'll write a soap fic with a little more punishment in the future when I don't feel like my insides are melting

c/w: P in V, biting, aftercare

word count: 2k

***

Johnny made it clear that he didn’t want to catch you reading dirty books again, but you’re only human. Your newly discovered love for the genre made it impossible to stay away. 

You picked up a new one at the bookstore, this time with a more discrete cover. The summary described a romance between a woman and her soldier husband. It was a love that stands the test of time and struggle as he changes from the horrors he’s seen. Upon getting home and settling down to read it, you quickly discovered that wasn’t the case. The book was downright rancid, a crime almost. You’d gotten comfortable in your PJs and fuzzy socks excited to dive into the story only to receive a figurative slap to the face.

He was so desperate to breed her. His rough and violent thrusts almost put her head through the wall.

“Be my good little wife and take my load.”

“When I come back you better be holding my kid in your arms waiting for me to put another one in you.”

Your hand was over your mouth as your eyes scanned every sentence multiple times to ensure you didn’t pull them from your imagination.

You couldn’t help but imagine Johnny as the character. The author went into detail about the male character sitting and watching his high school sweetheart, turned wife, undress for him. How his thick thighs took up the entirety of the chair and his cock rested to the side atop the dense muscle, all you could see was Johnny with his evil little smirk and shaggy hair he’d grown out on leave.

The jangling of keys on the other side of the front door rips you from your fantasies. You jolt upwards and run towards your bedroom to stash the book in your nightstand. You’d been sleeping with Johnny in his bed so there wasn’t a possibility of him accidentally stumbling on it.

You waltz out of your room coming face to face with Johnny. You jump, clutching your chest with a squeak.

“Johnny! You scared the shit out of me!”

He looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Wha’ are ye up tae?”

“What?! Nothing, just getting a heart attack from you.”

He fakes a quick step towards you and your arms instinctively shoot to the walls blocking him. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving your lips a peck. He rests his forehead on yours.

“Yer hidin’ somethin’ an’ I’m gonnae find out wha’ it is.” He squints at you before turning into the kitchen.  

Damn it! Why did I do that?!!

You try to keep an eye on Johnny to make sure he won’t go snooping, but the moment he wraps his arms around you the book is completely forgotten. The two of you cuddle on the couch to watch reruns of old shows together. He runs his hand up and down your side kissing down your shoulder. He settles on your waist and his thumb caresses the little bit of exposed skin. He nibbles on your neck and slips his hand under your tank top taking a handful of your breast.

“You’re worse than a dog in a rut!” You slap his hand away.

“Cannae help masel’ when I’m wi’ ye, bonnie.” He whines, nuzzling his nose into your neck. His hips grind into you and he lets out a groan.  

“Johnny, I haven’t showered today.” Your complaining falls on deaf ears as his arms wrap tighter around you. “Let me goooo!”

���Fine, if it makes ye stop fussin’.” He huffs as you sit up. He crosses his arms making a high-pitched ‘hmphf’. 

“I’ll be back, hun.” You lean down to give him a quick kiss.

Johnny waits for the shower to turn on before springing into action. He tosses the blanket to the side and tip-toes down the hallway determined to figure out what you’d been hiding earlier. He enters your room and begins looking around. He opens your closet, makes a mess of your desk drawers until he stumbles over to your nightstand. He pulls the drawer open and discovers the dark-covered book you tossed in there. The cover looked innocent enough, a soldier walking hand in hand with a woman in a pink sun dress. He flips the book over to read the summary. His eyes scan the text and he lets out a quiet ‘awww’ before opening it to a random page in the middle. 

“Jesus Christ, bonnie, wha’ are ye readin’ now?” His eyes go wide for a moment and he sucks his teeth.

You step out of the shower and wrap yourself in a towel before walking into his bedroom. You pick through his dresser for your clothes. He insisted you move some of your clothes to his room but they quickly got buried under his. You pick out your favorite striped pj shorts and an old shirt of his that you cut into a crop top. You walk out of his room heading back to the couch only to be stopped in your tracks when you notice the door of your room wide open and the light on. 

FUCK!

You quiet your footsteps and slowly peek into the room. You see him sitting on your bed, drawer open, and a very familiar object in his hands. You decide that the best thing you can do is hide but as you shift your weight onto your back foot the floor creaks.

“Bonnie!” He calls out. The stern tone in his voice makes you jump. “Come ower here.” You silently freak the fuck out before poking your head through the door.

“Yes, honey?”

The look on his face pulls you into the door frame.

“Wha’ did I tell ye no tae be readin’ the kin o’ books?”

Shit. He’s mad.

His accent gets rougher and you know for a fact that he’s not happy with this discovery.

You’re quick to defend yourself.

“I swear I didn’t know!” You blurt out. “The summary was so cute I didn’t think it was gonna be like that.”

He looks down, closing the book before looking back at you.

“Ye jus’ bought it? Didn’t ye open it up afore haund?”

His eyebrows furrow. His intense gaze burrows into you waiting for an answer. You chew on your bottom lip. He was always able to get the truth out of you. He knew you couldn’t stand being at the receiving end of his glare. You begin fumbling your fingers.

“I may have read a chapter at the store.” He throws his head back with a groan upon hearing the confession. “BUT, it wasn’t like the rest of the book, I swear!”

His jaw clenches for a second and he shakes his head.

“Oh bonnie, wha’ am I gonnae dae wi’ ye?” He mutters as he stands, shaking the book at you before tossing it onto the bed. He calmly walks towards you. He towers over you and one of his hands tangles itself in your hair pulling just enough to make you look straight up at him. 

“Yer a pure bad lassie. Cannae even heed simple orders.” 

He suddenly takes you by the arm and walks you into his room.

“Nasty wee thing,” He growls, forcing you onto the bed. “Can’t follow directions. Hidin’ things from me.” He sucks his teeth as his hands rush to yank your shirt off. He gives you no time to reorient yourself before he pushes you onto your back.

He climbs onto the bed and straddles you gripping your wrists in one hand. He grabs your chin forcing you to look up at him.

“Needy fuckin’ whore, aren’t ye?”

“Johnny, I’m sorry.” You whine trying to break out of his grip.

He scoffs, “We’ll see about tha’.”

He yanks his sweats off. You watch him closely hoping that he’ll change his mind about this punishment. His size becomes more apparent with the anger radiating off of him. 

“Baby, I promise I won’t do it anymore.” He ignores your pleas. Your eyes trail down and you see he’s rock-hard. He lays his weight on you biting at your neck. His bare cock presses against you over your shorts. His free hand goes to your breast, pinching your nipple and rolling it in his fingers. You half-mindedly grind against him.

“Oh no, Lassie. Yer not getting what you want just yet.”

He kisses down your chest capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue plays with the sensitive nub. He slides his arm under your thigh, bringing one leg to his waist. His fingers run over your clothed cunt and he groans.

“Yer soaked. My wee slut is so wet fur me.” His voice rasps. His mouth moves to your other breast. Your nails dig into your palms when his teeth graze the nub.

“Baby, please,” You cry out, needing to feel him inside you. The ache was becoming too much to bear and he was so close. His scent only helped to cloud your brain and the heat radiating off of him was setting you ablaze.

“So impatient.” He taunts as he pulls away to work your shorts down your legs to reveal the wet patch on your panties that had become transparent. He chokes out a moan at the sight,

“So fuckin’ wet.”

He slips his fingers underneath the fabric at your hips and in a swift motion pulls them until they rip. You gasp, eyes shooting down at him. He’d never acted this way in bed, he’d usually undress you with a thousand kisses, making sure his lips touched every bit of exposed skin until he reached where you wanted him most, he’d slow down for a moment and place a kiss on your clit before devouring you whole and leaving you with soul-crushing orgasm before the big finale. This time he restrains himself leaving your hips bucking for his touch. In this moment, you missed your sweet and caring Johnny.

“I know wha’ ye want, bonnie.” He looks up at you with his little evil smirk. “I’m not gonna treat ye like my princess when yer not actin’ like one.”

Before you can protest his fingers begin playing at your entrance. He slides two of his thick digits into you. Your breath hitches feeling the calloused skin inside you. He pumps his fingers, curling them into that special spot.

“So tight.” He breaths out, occasionally flicking your clit with his thumb. You want him inside you so bad your head is spinning. He lowers his head dropping his tongue to your clit, he couldn’t help himself, his head belonged in between your legs and he couldn’t fight that.

He continues moving his fingers in and out of you, grazing your g-spot each time. His tongue circles your clit and you throw your head back into the pillows. Your pants fill the room, your wrists aching.

“Johnnyyyyy.” Your back arches as he speeds up. His eyes almost roll back listening to your whines.

He feels you tighten against his fingers, waiting for the right moment. 

“Hmmmm.” You tighten around him once more and he pulls away from you, denying you of your release. Your head shoots up and he’s sucking the wetness off his fingers. He chuckles at the frustrated look on your face.

“That’s not fair!”

“Oh, but it is, only good girls get tae cum.”

He leans over you on his elbow grabbing a handful of your hair. He pulls your head back, the pain forcing a whine from your lips. “No woman of mine will be readin’ filth about another man.” His lips graze the side of your face. “I’m the only man ye should fantasizin’ about. I’m the only one who’s cock ye should be thinkin’ of.”

“You are! You’re the only man I think about!”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

He slides himself into you and your body tenses up at the intrusion. He coos at you as you try to adjust to his length. He forces your head to the side and his lips are on yours. He deepens the kiss attempting to capture your tongue with his. He uses the kiss as a distraction to slide the rest of himself into you. He buries himself to the hilt and you gasp into the kiss. He moans softly, breaking away from your lips and resting his head in the crook of your neck. The feeling of being inside you was almost too much for him to bear. So warm and wet, the nerves on his cock fire off when the tip finds your soft cervix.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” He pants into your skin. “This pussy is pure sin.”

He gathers himself before he begins moving. He slides in and out of you and your lips part slightly, eyes clamped shut. He releases shaky breaths, the tightness making his head spin.

“O’ fuck!” He thrusts slowly, pulling away slightly to enjoy the view of him disappearing inside you. His free hand grabs your waist to keep you from sliding away from him as his pace picks up. Your mind goes blank, the stretch of his cock is intoxicating. His thrusts jolt you upwards forcing whines from you. 

“Johnny, please let me touch you.”

“Promise me no more of those fuckin’ books,” He breaths into your necks.

“I promise, I promise, I promise!” You chant. Your voice comes out pathetic and desperate. He releases your wrists, his arms sliding under your body to wrap around you. Your hands fly to his back, nails digging into his skin. He pounds into you relentlessly, your eyesight blurs, and your back struggles to arch against his weight. 

His name falls from you in a chant mixed with small gasps. The bed creaks loudly as his hips slam into the underside of your soft thighs. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands grasping at him for dear life. He moans into your neck, his rasps hitting your skin along with his ragged breaths.

“Oh god, Johnny!” Your mouth hangs open. The feeling of him filling you up so perfectly leaves you almost in a trance-like state, unable to think or form a single thought. 

“Ye take me so well, bonnie, don’t ye?”

He tightens his hold on you, the tight squeeze around his cock has him almost drooling. Your warm velvet walls test him every time, he uses every bit of strength he has to not finish too soon when he buries himself inside you. His tip kissing your cervix shoots pleasure through the both of you. He swears little invisible hearts circle his head every time you whimper out his name.

He digs his teeth into your neck, marking you. “Mine. All mine.” He groans into the now red flesh. He frees one of his arms from under you and begins massaging your clit begging to feel you clamp down around him. 

“Bonnie, ye feel tae good. Cum on my cock, ye been a good girl.” You moan in response. “Gonnae fill ye up nice and deep. Ye want tha’?”

You nod frantically. Your pussy flutters warning him of your impending orgasm. He continues his pace as he whispers pure filth into your ear. Telling you how much he loves your pussy, how you belong to him and only him. You try to warn him but it hits hard and fast, before you know it you’re a mess beneath him. Nails dragging down his skin leaving red lines, your pussy spasming around him pulling over the edge.

He ruts into you shooting thick streams onto your walls. You feel him twitching inside you as he thrusts his cum deeper into you. “Take it all, bonnie.”

He continues thrusting, dragging out your orgasm. Your pussy clamps down on him milking him for all he’s worth leaving you twitching from the overstimulation.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He slows his movements letting out a deep breath before locking eyes with you. A goofy smile appears on his lips causing you to giggle. He mummers a “C’mere,” before kissing you sweetly. He slides out of you slowly as he caresses your thigh.

“Let’s get ye cleaned up,” He plants a kiss on your forehead before wrapping his arms around you once more and lifting you onto his lap. He slides the both of you off the bed and carries you into the bathroom putting you down gently on the counter. He turns the shower on and while the two of you wait for the water to heat up he peppers your face with kisses. 

He carries you into the shower letting you steady yourself on your feet before pulling you to his chest. The warm water runs over his shoulders flowing down your back. His lips brush the top of your head.

“I love you, bonnie.” He whispers.

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x Fem!reader

master list

summary: feelings burst. Fluffy. Fluffy fluffy. Eddie helps reader when she finds herself in a bind.

warnings: no minors gtfo- eventual smut in the series.

W.C: 11.8k 🫣

A/N: per usual thank you the my beta readers @sweetsweetjellybean

//

Clunk

Clunk clunk humm

You were already late for work this morning and now this? Must be a fucking Monday. This must be that bitch karma’s payback for you talking shit about Eddie’s van the other night when he backed it up to the garage to unload some shit he salvaged from the junkyard.

“You would think that since you’re a mechanic, you could tune up that piece of shit so it isn’t so fucking loud.”

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, unloading another arm load of car parts from the back of the van to the middle of the garage, “don’t dog on the shaggin’ wagon, you know how much ass I get in this thing?”

The unspoken agreement you had with Eddie the other night after spilling your guts about your past, gave you more patience towards him than ever before. Instead of finding him repulsive, you two were almost friends.

“No I don’t and also I don’t care.” you say taking a bite of a ham sandwich.

“More than a public toilet seat,” Eddie boasts, “Ladies love it, feel like I’m Shaggy or something.”

More like his other four-legged snack-loving friend.

“I really hope you use a rubber, don’t wanna extend the Munson blood line anymore than you have to,” you bite back.

“Oh sweetheart, I always wrap it with the groupies, especially watching Jas bounce from Gareth, to Big D to Walt all in one night.”

“Well look at you, Mr. Perfect bill of health.”

Eddie smiles widely a stupid grin plastered on his face, “I’m so good at the doctors they even give me a sticker. ”

-

Now here you are, stranded at the gas station east of town, past Merrill’s pumpkin patch. Losing all faith in your sanity, you slam your hand into the steering wheel one more time. Your chunky boots clunk across the pavement as you pull the door towards you, a dingy brass bell dings overhead, alerting the gas station attendant that someone has entered the store.

“Back again?” the balding creep with the greasy combover presses. His coke bottle thick glasses full of breakfast pizza slime from his fingers from pushing them up on in place after sliding down the oils on his nose. A brown paper bag with orange spray paint sitting next to it sat on the counter, and a tinge of orange around his mouth.

With no time for small talk or shooting the shit with the local bachelors of Hawkins, you simply need to borrow the phone and call… fuck. You didn’t want to have to call Boom’s, but the other shops didn’t open yet, and you didn’t know any of them. The decision was made.

“I need to use the phone,” you say laying your hands on the counter.

“No can do, this is a business line,” he spits, bits of his barely chewed breakfast falling from his over stuffed mouth.

Irritated beyond belief you say through gritted teeth, “What? My car broke down, I need to have it towed.”

Showing no sympathy, the combover greaseball says, “That sucks, don’t it,” a throaty chuckle erupts from him. Clearly the man got off from making next to little effort in helping someone.

“Listen,” you say peering over the counter to read the slobs name tag, “Ralph— you’re going to give me the goddamn phone so I can get my car towed, or I’m going to tell your boss about your little huffing habit. Got it?”

His cheeks crimson at your threat, “…what’s the number?”

After dialing it wrong three times, Ralph’s oversized fingers and his altered mind getting hung up on where the 4 was on the dusty rotary phone, you hastily reach across the counter and grab it and the Hawkins phone book. Flipping through the worn yellow pages, finding the number yourself and slotting your fingers in the appropriate places to get the number correct, it finally starts ringing.

Angrily tapping your foot, the serenade of dial tone ringing loud in your ear.

“Boom’s” a bored voice says, after ehat seems like hours of waiting.

“Hey, — is Eddie there?”

A scoff is heard from the other end of the phone, followed by an annoyed voice, “Why who wants to know?”

You don’t have time for childish games with whoever this fucking prick is. “Jesus Christ what is it with assholes today? Is he there or no?”

“I don’t know, you stupid bitch— why don’t you tell me if Eddie is here or—”

A scuffle is heard as the phone falls to the ground.

“What the fuck did I tell you? Huh? I’ll drop your ass just name the time and place mother fuck— hello?”

“Eddie?” You ask exhaustedly.

“Tooty? Oh shit, you miss me so much you’re making calls to my work?”

“E—” you begin, frustration rising.

“Or did you call to gossip? Ooooh, tell me all about the salon drama, is it that blonde again, damn just slap her already I know you want to.”

“Ed—!”

“Shit if you’re worried about going to jail I’ll come bail y—”

“Edward Joseph Munson!”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Did you just use my full name? I only hear that when I’m in trouble with Wayne.”

“Will you listen to me?! I need help. I’m at the gas station east of town and my car won’t start.”

“What? What happened?” Eddie asks, his joking tone immediately fading to concern.

“I have no idea, but I’m already late for work—can you come pick me up?”

“Usually this is where a please would be.”

“Eddie!”

“Ooh even begging?”

“Goddamnit,” you say under your breath, “Eddie will you please, come get me?”

“That a girl, see that wasn’t so hard. So where are you?”

-

Eddie rolls up in an old orange and white tow truck, head banging with a cigarette hanging limply from his bottom lip. “So what happened?”

“Well I drove here, got gas, and then it just wouldn’t start.”

“Damn, I wonder if your starter is out.”

“Great, so what the hell does that mean?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it is that or not, but if it’s not that— it means that your car is probably going to need more work than it’s worth, but I won’t know until I get it in the shop.”

“Son of a bitch.” you curse, covering your face with your hands and tipping your head back up to the sky. Could this fucking day get any worse?

After buying the house last year, your savings were completely wiped out, the last few months you had been pinching pennies trying to build it back up

“I’ll tow it, but I don’t think Boom has any loaners right now,” Eddie explains, “but since I’m such a kind, handsome, good roommate….”

You roll your eyes.

“I’ll bring you to work.”

Shock evident on your face, “You sure?”

“I mean its either that or the city bus, and last I checked—Hawkins doesn’t have one.”

Eddie agrees to give you a ride until your car is fixed on one condition, the band gets to use the garage for practices again. Too tired to fight with him, you give in.

He backs the truck up, moving the steering wheel with one hand the other hanging out of the window, his tongue poked out through his lips. He jumps down from the truck and maneuvers the wheel lift into place by your front tires.

The muscles in his forearms jut out, tattoos dancing with each movement and covered in a thin sheet of sweat as he grabs the chains from the flatbed and hooks them along your front tires, securing them into place. Your car is lifted slightly giving enough clearance to be able to tow.

“Ready?”

-

Bouncing along side Eddie in the tow truck you sigh heavily, “fuck, I hate Mondays.”

“Okay, Garfield,” Eddie chuckles, turning down the radio and glancing towards you, a cigarette balanced between his teeth, “could always be worse,” he digs into his front pocket for his pack of cigarettes and hands them to you.

You smile weakly and take the pack from him, plucking a tanned filter from the pack and shoving it between your lips. Before you can even say that your lighter is in the car, he’s leaning over. A scratched zippo with a fading design on it, in his hand already flicked open, the flame threatening to go out with the help of the lazy breeze through the open driver’s side window. It’s the same lighter he’s had since you first bummed a cigarette from him when you were thirteen.

Leaning towards him you put the cigarette into the flame, inhaling deep— the cowboy killers burning the pinky tissue of your lungs. He flicks the lighter closed with a metallic snap and smiles out of the corner of his mouth at you. Suddenly your lungs aren’t the only thing burning.

“Thanks,” you say, trying to avoid the skips in your stomach, “I usually prefer menthols, but I guess, these’ll do,”

“Always gotta bust my balls dontchya?” Eddie laughs, a stream of smoke billowing out from his nose. “Hey, uh— I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but that gas station is rated 5 stars on the creepiest place in town.”

You glare your eyes at him, absolutely not having it, “they have cheap gas.”

“There’s a reason for that, and every drug dealer in town sells out of there,” Eddie scolds.

“You would know,” you say in a hateful tone.

“You’re right,” Eddie protests, looking at you earnestly, “I would know— it’s not a good place to be— no matter what time of day, so stay away from it.”

You knew he was trying to look out for you, and from what Steve said, — he blamed himself for the things Chad did to you. But it was never his fault, he didn’t know just like most of Hawkins didn’t. You lived with the Wheeler’s and not even they noticed until you walked home that night. You decide to let it be. For once in your life agreeing to what he had to say.

“Alright,”

-

Boom’s was on the opposite side of town, the rest of the drive you listened to Eddie hum along to the radio and snuck a peek at him playing air guitar. Despite him being so foul, and a royal pain in the ass, he was actually a decent human being.

No other men in their twenties could help you through your panic attack, aside from Steve. But Eddie? He was different from Steve in ways that you couldn’t grasp. You didn’t find yourself staring at Steve. Even if you had been swimming with him on more occasions than you can count. Sure he was good looking, but you never once understood why the girls at the pool practically flocked to him. Eddie hardly ever wore a shirt around you and your stomach ached each time you saw his broad shoulders and tattoos. Steve was like a brother to you, he scolded you and gave you advice, all with his hands permanently attached to his hips. A mother hen among his friends. Eddie teased and taunted you, his irritating behavior and the way he chewed his food, the way his hair was everywhere in the bathroom, the way his hair looked when he was fresh out of the shower, a towel slung on his hips. The way his hips made a ‘V’, small trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband. Fuck.

Is it hot in here?

What the hell were you doing?

There’s no way.

No fucking way.

Nope, not today.

Not ever.

..

…

But what if?

-

Eddie couldn’t understand what was going on with you in the passenger seat. Instead of bitching at him like normal, you were staring out the window. Looking as if you were fighting a storm in your cute little head. Maybe you were reliving the past. Silently suffering through something that he should have been there to stop. But judging from your reflection against the dirty window, you didn’t seem to be crying.

After that night, Eddie was putting in more effort to make sure you felt safe. He gave you distance. Avoided the bathroom in the morning, and stopped making dick jokes altogether. He still joked around, still acted like an idiot— but his perverted meter was dipped into the green zone, the safety net.

He meant what he said, you didn’t have to be afraid with him around. And he would do whatever he could to prove that to you. So when you called Boom’s earlier and asked for help— he dropped everything to make the trek across town to pick you up. Especially when you told him the gas station you were at. Known for being the skeeziest one in town, he worried about you being there alone.

Seeing the tow truck pull into the parking lot, Sean and Aaron had their noses pressed against the glass, the cheap flimsy blinds hung crooked over their heads.

“Damn,” Aaron exclaims, “you were right, that is her.”

“Told you, Munson hasn’t shut up about her since he moved in. Wonder if Chad knows where she’s been hiding.”

-

Eddie parks the tow truck and you both climb out. He gives you the keys to his van and tells you he’d be right back. Walking into the shop with a whistle on his tongue, he goes into Boom’s office. He’s sitting at a worn down wooden desk. Papers, and receipts clutter space where a framed family picture might be. A steaming styrofoam cup of coffee in Boom’s left hand suggested he stopped at the donut mart, and a dozen of glazed holes from heaven would be sitting in the break room, their sweetness tantalizing the crew all day.

Eddie raps his knuckles against the yellowed paint by the door frame.

‘Yep,” Boom chirps without looking up, reading the daily arrest records in the Hawkins Post.

“Hey, I brought Tooty’s Escort back, I’m going to bring her to work quick and when I get back I’ll move it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Boom gripes, not looking up from the paper, sipping the coffee slowly.

“Dunno, I’ll take a look at it— “ Eddie shifts his weight from one foot to another, “I was wondering if I could maybe work on it after hours, or on the weekends.”

Boom considers what Eddie is saying, “off the clock?”

“Yeah, or maybe I could take some of my tools home? Work on it there?”

Boom thinks for a while, taking a sip of his coffee. His pudgy finger hovering near the name “William Hargrove” mulling over if he knew him. He finally looks up, “Whatever you wanna do, Eddie, you’ve got keys—I trust you.” Boom offers, “just don’t let those other two jackasses know what you’re doing and who for— that’s all they’ve been yappin’ about since you left this morning.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “I’m just helping out a friend, don’t know why they give a fuck.”

“Personally, I don’t give a shit— but you’re my best mechanic, and those other two are on their last strike with me. One more time I read their name in this paper and they’re both out of here, and when that time comes— I’m sure they’ll be lookin’ for someone to blame.”

-

The familiar scent of stale weed and a spilled rotting beer in the back of the van flood your nose. Even though his van was a dirty pile of shit and it stunk like hell, you’re thankful for Eddie taking time out of his day to help you.

He could have easily told you to fuck off, hung up on you the minute you called. But he didn’t. He kept good on his word even when he didn’t have to. He doesn’t owe you anything and yet here he was, proving to you again, that he could be someone to rely on. You peer at him through your lashes, falling deep into a spell of fondness. He was always clean shaven, showing off his babyish features. If you didn’t know his age you wouldn’t guess he was over twenty two, his youthful pale skin a glow like the moon across a lake at midnight. The deep browns of his eyes squint in the bright sun, his dark eyelashes almost kissing his cheeks. His thick ringed fingers tapping on the steering wheel as ‘Holy Diver’ plays gently in the background. The bob of his Adam's apple jutting out as he swallows and takes a drag from a cigarette.

You barely recognize your own voice when you say barely above a whisper, “thank you, by the way— not just for today but for the other night,” your fingers go back to the same nervous habit, twiddling the end of your cream lettuce hem shirt.

“Of course,” he says, a look of shock on his face, “I know I like to give you shit, but I wouldn’t leave you stranded somewhere.” He looks over at you lazily and smiles. The kind of smile associated with cool guys on tv, the kind of smile that’s crooked and truly only on one side of the face. And for the first time, you smile too, letting the warmth radiate through your body, venturing into places that you have to readjust your crossed legs to avoid entirely.

Pulling into the backlot of the salon, where you and Nancy smoke cigarettes and read trash magazines, you jump out thanking him again, the creak of the door slamming back into the frame as you wave goodbye.

“What time?” Eddie yelled after you, silently admiring the way the sun catches your face, highlighting your features, the slight breeze catching your hair, he can’t help the smile that dances on his lips. “What time are you off work?”

Walking back to him, he’s leaning his head back on the head rest, an arm hanging out of the window, a stupid grin on his face.

“My last client is at five and it’s just a cut, so probably six o’clock, why?” A creep of jittery shock threatens your nerves, fluttering your stomach and sending waves of fluster through your body.

“Thought I’d pick you up, unless you wanna walk home?” He smirks, tracing the small paint chip near where his fingers set on the door.

Biting your lip and moving back on your heels you make your way back to the door, “Okay.”

“Alright, I’ll be back at six.”

“Six” you repeat, turning on your heel and walking into the salon.

-

Eddie has thought about you all day, the cards of life and the hand you were dealt were shitty. But he was happy he was around to help in any little way he could. He thought maybe he was crazy, seeing shit when you smiled at him, a sort of shyness in the way you flirted by dipping your head into your shoulder almost giddy at him picking you up.

But that couldn’t be.

-

The rest of your day was monotonous. Shampoo sets, perms, cuts, rinse and repeat. The long haired metalhead hardly left your mind. When it’s just you and Josie left in the salon after your last appointment, it’s 5:30. She sits down, exhaling loudly. Her long dark braids trailing to her waist, cascade down the length of the chair as she leans back.

“Broke down again? Girl, you need a car that actually works.” Her hot pink fingernails dip into a bag of skittles, popping them into her mouth.

“I know,” you sigh, throwing yourself into your salon chair, “hopefully in the next few months I’ll have enough saved to get myself a new one.”

“So how did you get here? If we had someone else in the salon today I would have came and picked you up,” her mouth puckered into a sucking expression as she pops another skittle into her mouth.

“My roommate… he works at Boom’s so he towed it there and then brought me to work,” you express nonchalantly.

“Ooh the rich one who you used to work with?”

“Steve?” You say with a laugh, “No, Eddie Munson.”

“Eddie Munson? Why does that name sound so familiar? Ohh the infamous Hawkins bad boy, my cousins used to run around with him, some club or somethin’ ”

“Yeah, that's him, he’s turned himself around quite a bit since high school though.” The annoying need to defend him is obvious in your tone.

Josie’s eyes go wide, “Wait—“ she says, pointing a pink nail at you, “he had a girlfriend. He’s living with you? Shit, you’re a brave one.”

Heat creeps to your cheeks, the thought of Eddie having a secret girlfriend that you didn’t know about was almost torture on your soul, “no, no girlfriend… that I’m aware of at least.”

Speak of the devil and he will be present.

Opening the door with the sun waning behind him, peeking an orangy-yellow glow through his unruly curls, stood Eddie. His coveralls are full of motor oil and brake fluid. Black grease is smeared across his face, and his hands. Bandana still snug around his head.

“Oh shit,” Eddie blurts, eyes scanning around the room, bouncing from your face to Josie’s. Clearly uncomfortable in such a clean establishment. “Sorry, I’m uhh, a little early.”

Josie’s eyebrows are turned up in shock, her mouth slightly agape. “Damn, you’re the roommate!?”

Before she can embarrass you any further you blurt, “Josie, this is Eddie,” holding out a hand and pointing, introducing him to her, “Eddie this is my boss and the owner of the salon, Josie.”

Eddie waves with his fingers, “so you’re the one lookin’ after our girl here, the mechanic?” Josie asks.

“Uhh, yeah that’s me.” he puts a hand on the back of his neck and rubs it slow

Josie stands and walks towards you, a clicking of her heels and munching on her candy as she grabs your hand and drags you upwards, dragging you to the back of the salon.

Eddie looks around the room. The salon is decorated in light washes of pink and green and flowers decorate almost every surface, White painted baskets hang from the ceiling holding fake flowers. The salon chairs are black as are the mats under them. Green sinks in the back and cabinets overhead. Two mirrors on each wall and station with a name and family pictures decorate them. Eddie can’t help but notice that where you were sitting, there are only three pictures. A photo of you and Nancy looking like it was taken last summer, you’re holding up the keys to the blue ranch style house he now calls home. Another picture is of you Robin and Steve, in green Family Video Vests in front of the counter. You and Robin are both pulling one of Steve’s ears and he’s making a monkey face. The last picture is of you and Eyeball as kids, a portrait more than likely taken at a JC Penney’s.

“Don’t forget to lock up, okay? Enjoy your day off tomorrow. Eddie, be good to her!” Josie calls from the back, the heavy metal door slamming as she leaves for the night, a smile painted on her lips, shaking her head.

You walk back towards Eddie, he’s sitting in your chair, poking around at all of the different brushes and curling irons that were on your station. Your tired eyes scan him and find him in the mirror. “What is all this shit?”

“My tools to style, cut and color people’s hair.”

You’re standing behind him. You hesitantly grab one of his curls in between your fingers, noting how silky and smooth his hair is despite the split ends. “You could probably use a trim, Eddie. When was the last time you had your hair cut?”

“You think these curls have been in a salon? Please! I cut it myself thank you,”

“I can tell,” you mutter under your breath, going full hog and untying his sweaty bandana and tossing it onto the counter. “Come on, let’s go wash your hair, and then I’m gonna give you a trim.”

“You’re not cutting my hair.” Eddie protests, arms crossed and resisting.

“Your ends are dead, if you don’t take care of it now, it’ll keep going further up and then you’ll have to shave your head.”

Eddie practically trips standing up quickly. “Those are fighting words.”

“Do you really think I’d do that?” You ask in a bored tone.

“Actually no, but— okay fine! Only because you went to some fancy school.”

Eddie stomps over to the sink and sits down with a plop in the smooth cushioned black chair. You follow behind him and place your apron back around your neck, tightening it around your back. You lean his chair back telling him to lift his head from the headrest as you gather his curls into the basin.

Turning on the water and testing the temperature on your wrist, like a mother testing a bottle making sure it isn’t too hot for a baby, you gently put the spray into the ends of Eddie’s hair, gently working the spray up the length of his head to his scalp.

“Is the water okay?”

“Ow, holy shit!” Eddie yelps, his body flopping around like a fish out of water. You immediately turn the faucet the other way, apologizing profusely until you realize Eddie is shaking with laughter.

“Oh fuck, … you…” more laughing as he chokes out his words, “should have seen your face.” He mimics your face and bursts into a fit of giggles, you aren’t sure how long he would have kept it up if you didn’t put the hose directly into his face and throw a towel at him.

“Wipe that grin off your face or I’ll wax your eyebrows.” You spit at him, letting out a small laugh.

Mumbling from under the towel is faint but you swear you hear the word bikini.

Eddie finished cleaning his face and lays his head back into the sink again, you don’t ask this time but immediately start wetting his hair. “So,” he says, closing his eyes, so water won’t get in them, “I think I figured out what is wrong with your car.”

“Oh really? Is it going to be an easy fix?”

Not wanting to admit to you that he was working on your car for free or that he would borrow as many tools as he had to to get your car fixed, he settles for a half truth.

“Shouldn’t be too bad, gotta get some parts ordered for it.”

You let out a groan, “oh God— how much are they?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I just said, don’t worry about it, now treat me like one of your clients and tell me all the hot gossip in your life.”

Taking three giant pumps from the white shampoo bottle in the cabinet, you gently massage it into his scalp. Letting the cool smooth pearlescent liquid suds up. His hair feels like brown ropes of silk in your hands. All the years of having your hands in someone else’s hair were nothing compared to the odd feeling of lightly working the suds into Eddie’s mane. Baby soft. Luxurious in ways that contradicted the metalhead image he wore so well like a coat of armor.

You weren’t the only one admiring the way his hair felt in your hands.

Eddie is fighting hard not to melt into a puddle right there in Josie’s salon. Your hands were like magic against his scalp, your nails lightly scratching small circles against his skull. He was sure he’d fall asleep if he kept his eyes closed for any longer. It was the closest thing he could compare to what heaven would be like. Hints of tropical coconut mixed with crushed pineapple filled the air. He didn’t even realize you were talking until he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of your mouth moving over him. Your face was concentrating on the story that you were telling, but it fell on deaf ears. He was in a trance. The scrape of your nails against his head was almost pornographic to him. The way your eyes were trained on the job at hand. The way your lips parted and moved as you told the story. The animated look in your eyes, sparkling with each slow blink, your eyelashes teasing him.

He had never noticed the features of your face before. Usually if he was this close you were staring up at him and pointing one of those glorious fingernails into his chest, yelling at him— eyebrows pulled in, your face set in a scowl. But now here you were, scratching an itch he didn’t know he had. Filling a void he wasn’t aware was missing. He could die right now and he wouldn’t even know it. It was almost orgasmic the way you were making him feel, all with just simply washing his hair.

He caught himself before you could notice it. He crossed his legs and willed himself to think of anything else. Shutting his eyes and imagining the least sexy thing he could think of. Not wanting to ruin the moment between you both and make you never want to trust him again because he had got an accidental semi while staring at you while you were wrist deep in shampoo, scrubbing his scalp like a woman in the 1800s washing clothes on a board in the creek bed.

Nobody had ever washed his hair before, that he could remember at least. He never wanted it to end.

“…but that’s crazy right? Like she’s a psycho!” The hazy fog of lust finally left Eddie’s mind, his other four senses returning. Looking at your face and seeing that you were hurt by the story you had explained, and ashamed that he wasn’t even listening, he agreed, not even knowing if he should.

“What a bitch.”

You giggled, smiling down at him. Finally realizing you had been scrubbing his hair for almost five minutes, lost in the story. A stupid distraction to force yourself away from the feeling of the silk length of his hair, the way it felt in your fingers. Not wanting to let it slip away. You gather it all in one hand and grab the hose with the other, starting at the crown of his forehead, you rinse the suds from his hair.

Bubbles circle the basin. Disappearing down the drain along with the same shared feelings of lust and yearning. Shoved down deep away from the surface, hidden beneath hardened surfaces, shielded away from the inner depths of the softening heart.

-

You ended up cutting half an inch from Eddie’s curls, careful to not lose yourself in his hair again, almost cutting yourself in the process. Hee watched with wide sad brown eyes with each snip. “It’s like I’m watching you cut parts of my soul away.”

You roll your eyes, “It’ll grow back, and when it does it’ll be healthier and longer.”

His bangs were the next to be trimmed, not even half an inch taken off. You place a leave-in conditioner spray to keep his curls soft and to help with the tangles. Knowing full well that Eddie didn’t even own a hair brush.

When you finish and are sweeping up his curls, Eddie stands shaking his head like a dog and running his fingers through it. “Alright, I’ll admit, it does feel better.”

-

Since the agreement was made for the band to practice every other day of the week in the garage, Eddie had been bringing you to work, and picking you up. On days the band wouldn’t be practicing, when he dropped you at home, he would leave immediately after, sometimes not showing up again until midnight. Coming home tired as all hell, and just like you had done weeks before, a Tupperware of food with instructions on how to warm it up taped to the lid, would be waiting for him in the fridge, each and every time.

There was no more yelling from you when the three members of Corroded Coffin showed up. There were also no more beer cans or greasy food wrappers on the ground either. Instead a trash can sat in the corner, and Eddie paid for pizza after you ordered it.

Actually the band was pretty good. You would never tell him that, that would simply go to his head. And with the ego he already had, he didn’t need another boost of confidence, leave that for the groupies. So every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday night the band got together, playing covers from their beloved 80’s metal Gods and sometimes original songs they would write. All of them thankful that you let them practice in the garage, Big D picking you up into a bear hug and swinging you around like a rag doll.

“Jesus Christ, D, this is why the ladies run from you, you’re too aggressive, put her down!” Eddie barks. A pang of burning in his chest at the sight of you in someone else’s arms.

Big D sets you down and apologizes, “sorry Toots, and hey speaking of ladies, whatever happened with you and those hotter than hell twins?”

“Oh shit, Gareth hollered, “Fuck dude they were all over him, surprised he’s even able to walk with the way they were strung around him like cats in heat. You usually can’t wait to tell us about it, bragging until the next gig about it at least.”

“That’s cause he probably didn’t do shit, too chicken shit to handle them.”

Your stomach flips, so it wasn’t something you remembered wrong, there were two girls that Eddie had brought home that night. A strange feeling of angst washes over you, coating your mind with uncertainty mixed with inadequacy. Your cheeks warm, embarrassed by the way you are feeling. Excusing yourself to go order the pizza, you don’t see the way Eddie dismisses the guys, blowing them off with a “why don’t we keep our sexcapades to ourselves.” Or the way he throws a full beer at Big D.

-

After ordering the Corroded Coffin special, two large pepperonis, two large sweet and swine, and an extra large order of cheesy breadsticks— you go into the cupboard and bring out several bags of chips and five paper plates. Your favorite, sour cream and onion, and Eddie’s favorite, cool ranch Doritos. You let your mind wander. Thinking about him with those two girls. Realizing this is probably where he went at night after he dropped you off.

No need to feel like that when he was just your roommate, you shake the jealousy from your head. Just Eddie. Barely a friend. Yet he was still going out of his way to take you to work every day, till doing the chores you both shared. You let the silly feelings drop, carrying the chips and plates to the garage, shutting the door behind you. Pulling up your usual lawn chair, listen to the band play and finish painting your toenails.

When the boys end the song, they start again on the conversation they had started before playing, “dude I’m not dressing up as KISS again this year,” Jeff whines to Gareth “took me forever to get that white paint off my face. And don’t even get me started on the eyeliner.”

A spray of beer soaks the ground as Eddie spits it out, laughing hysterically about the memory of watching Jeff struggle lining his eyes like Paul Stanley. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “yeah I agree, I’m not painting your ugly mugs again this year, what else are you thinkin’?”

“We could all be different villains from scary movies. Freddy, Jason, Michael Myers’s, and Pinhead.” Big D suggests, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Nah, no chicks wanna fuck something scary. I don’t know about you— but I tried all of last Halloween to get some tail and no girl would even look my way with all that clown paint on.” Gareth huffs twirling his drum sticks in his fingers.

“What about you Tooty?” Eddie asks earnestly, “Do you and Robin go bar hoppin’ on Halloween or do you usually stay home like an old lady knitting sweaters and handing out black licorice and molding fruit?”

Making a face at him, you paint the last coat of polish on your toe nail. “Actually, Nancy and I usually throw a party. Costume contests, kegs, beer pong… we kinda go all out.”

Eddie picks his jaw up from the floor, scoffing, “no way— Nancy Wheeler and you, throwing a rager on Halloween? I don’t buy it.”

“Call Steve and ask him, he’s the reigning Cherry Lane Halloween costume contest winner for two years running.” You say with a smirk on your lips, stretching your legs and crossing them at your ankles, the pretty maroon polish catching the dim light in the garage. “You guys are more than welcome to come, obviously it’s on Halloween night, and the only stipulation is to bring a good costume, and $5 for the keg.”

Eddie moves his tongue over his teeth, twisting his body to look at his band mates, all three of them shrugging and nodding. “Yeah, we’ll be here,

“Yeah, if you think you’re up for it. Sure.” You say nonchalantly.

-

The smell of mildew and damp carpet currently being air dried with a fan stung your nose. The soggy basement and the crumbling foundation of Sally’s Secondhand in downtown Hawkins was a hidden gem and only open in the afternoons on Mondays and Wednesdays, but they had decent prices and good quality items when you were in a pinch if you could learn to breathe through your mouth for the time you were there.

“So how’s the roomie situation going?” Nancy asks, holding up a hand mixer with two mixing parts and a wooden handle labeled for .10¢. You had scored gold when you found a gently used, practically brand new waffle iron. It was wedged between two cook books for only $2. The same one Karen Wheeler had used on Sunday mornings. You were hunting for discounted Halloween decorations still not sure on what you were going to dress as and Halloween was this Saturday, Nancy was searching for spare camera parts for Jonathan and a toy cowboy hat for her costume that she wouldn’t tell you about.

Putting a masking taped bundle of forks into the blue plastic grocery basket, your forks magically kept disappearing everytime Eddie brought leftovers to work, you let out a sigh, “It’s going okay, better than it was in the beginning. He’s fixing my car up and I cut his hair a few weeks ago. I um.. also told him about Chad.”

Nancy stops dead in her tracks, blue eyes wide, her small mouth agape, “wh-what?!” Nancy was shocked at the news, you nonchalantly delivered like saying ‘fine’ when some asked how you were. She knew how frightening that situation was for you, it was scary for her too. Seeing someone she loved and cared about hurt in ways she couldn’t even fathom.

“We ran into him while getting groceries—like a month ago. I had a full blown panic attack, and Eddie, he helped me through it.” You go into detail explaining everything that had happened. Leaving out the part of you being comforted by Eddie and the gentle way his thick hands caressed you while you sobbed into him like a child who lost their cat.

Nancy's face goes from shock and softens into content, “wow, honestly didn’t think he had a caring bone in his body, he always seemed like such an asshole.”

“I mean he still is, don’t get me wrong— I don’t think he’s giving donations to the local churches or anything, but he seems a little more reserved, if you will,” you say, adding a floral embroidered set of towels for every day of the week to your basket.

“Hmm,” Nancy says with raised eyebrows, and nodding her head, a silent confirmation of approval. Always looking up to Nancy, almost as if she was your real life sister, you admired her. She was always put together, whether you were shopping during the week or at home, she was stylish in a way that said, I will run the world, and have dinner on the table at 6. Her white huarache sandals matched her high waisted pink pastel shorts and white button sleeveless blouse. Effortlessly stunning.

Moving along the aisles you and Nancy both finger through the clothing racks. Pulling out neon prints and a pair Madonna—esque white lace gloves, they probably belonged to that muppet singing idiot, Tammy Thompson. Chuckling at how fashion trends in high school were borderline ridiculous. a denim vest in your size with safety pins on each hem gave you an idea for your costume. Finding everything you needed you were ecstatic to put it all together.

The carpet squashed beneath your feet the further you got into the store. The back room held vhs’s, records, tapes, and books. The records were in a milk carton next to a shelf of adult themed books. The fading sharpie written sign reading “Adult fiction for Women 25 cents” posted bold along the top of the shelf. Nancy discreetly placed, “Thursday and the Lady” by Patricia Matthews into her basket, covering it with matching salt and pepper shakers, a crimson tinge to her rouged cheeks.

Diving into the records you flip them towards you as you lazily scan through them. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours, Thriller by Michael Jackson, Abbey Road by the Beatles, Kind of Blue by Miles Davis, stuck to the back of it was a small single, Ode to Billie Joe by Bobbie Gentry. It had been years since you heard it, tucking it into your basket, Nancy clears her throat nervously, the blush evident in her cheeks, “I’m ready if you are.”

-

The Saturday of Halloween the salon was closed, giving you Robin and Steve plenty of time to decorate for the party tonight. Eddie was working but was scheduled to get off around 5, just in time to come home and get his secret costume on.

Orange pumpkin printed garbage bags filled with autumn foliage lined the streets of Cherry Lane. Toilet paper streamers were in Mr. Derry’s tree, a prank the seniors of Hawkins High did to him every year, including egging his front door. Vinyl witches hung from doorknobs. Plastic ghosts holding jack-o-lanterns littered lawns. Fake strings of cotton resembling cobwebs with bendy plastic spider thrown around like glitter, lay atop shrubs. Orange lights were wrapped around the trees in your front yard, flimsy ghosts made of white sheets were hung from the branches. It was a child’s Halloween paradise.

“Higher, no lower, well now you’re just doing it wrong.” Steve was in charge of Robin who was in charge of decorations. The beer pong tournament would be in the basement, every strand of Christmas lights you could find were lighting the ceiling, table set up and cups in place. The tournament bracket started with Mike and El playing against Jeff and his girlfriend Ash. The kegs would be delivered later. Buckets ready for ice sitting on the deck. Robin and Steve were still arguing over who had the better costume last year. Twisting black and orange streamers together and hanging them in the doorway to the bathroom.

In the kitchen, you’re finishing up the Jell-O shots, small clear dishes full of cherry red jello made with everclear. A bitter threat to anyone brave enough to eat them. The spinach and artichoke dip is prepped in the fridge, along with 10 packages of crescent rolls, 5 packages of hotdogs, the fruit cut and ready to be put into Steve’s horrendous Jungle Juice that you would actively be avoiding. Nancy and Jonathan were bringing pinwheels and rotel dip. Dustin and Susie are in charge of bringing candy. It’s going to be a blast.

-

“Be right back,” Robin and Steve call out as they leave to go get their costumes. Putting the finishing touches on your costume your hand shakes with nervousness while swiping mascara on your lashes, the pre party jitters wracking your nerves. The ring of the doorbell startles you. The obnoxious ringing should be a dead giveaway but you don’t recognize it until the door is wide open and you’re face to face with Jesus Christ himself and three nuns. Or as you knew them, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Big D.

You aren’t sure whose mouth is hanging open more. Yours or Eddie’s. Eddie is wearing a long sleeved cream colored gown, complete with a crimson sash. His usual black leather boots on his feet and a crucifix in his hand.

Eddie is the first to laugh, hands held out like he’s blessing the house before he enters it. “Aww sweetheart, you really are my #1 fan aren’t you?”

You are dressed as the most annoying on the planet, pain in the ass, voted most perverted of all of Hawkins: Eddie. When shopping with Nancy you found the vest, adding a few hand sewn patches and the best replica of Eddie’s DIO patch on the back, even shoving a pack of reds into the pocket, it looked pretty good. A twin of the aforementioned jackass. Borrowing Nancy’s cheap leather jacket when she went as Sandy from Grease last year, and putting holes into a pair of jeans and washing them as many times as you could to fray the edges, it was perfect. Complete with a horrible curly wig that you thought was a life dog upon seeing it.

“I was going for scary and scary annoying,” you shrug, “think I nailed it.”

“As hilarious and surprisingly accurate your costume is, the real winner for the party is going to be us” He gestured to him and the nuns. “figured I’d go as something that everyone says I need more of and you recognize the boys right? They’re dressed as your friends from work.”

-

The kegs finally show up and Eddie blesses the delivery man before he leaves. Fully throwing himself into character. Dustin and Susie are the first to arrive, dressed as Mrs. Doubtfire and Sally Ride, the first woman astronaut to go into space.

Dustin laughs so hard he cries at your costume. “Oh my God please you have to say, ‘forced conformity, it’s what’s killing the kids!’ Please Tooty Holy shit!”

Mimicking Eddie perfectly you saunter away and scream about society and how good Metallica is.

“Oh haha, so funny Tooty,” Eddie pouts, holding a beer funnel in his hands, “come on Henderson let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.”

-

The backyard is sprayed with foamy beer as Dustin very much can not put his money where his mouth is. Gareth’s up next, chugging like a champion and doing a lap around the backyard like he won a trophy. Eddie and Jeff shotgun beer, Eddie winning by a mile. Laughing and putting his hands in a praying gesture to bless Jeff for his shortcomings.

The rest of the party goers show up, Nancy is dressed like Annie Oakley wielding a fake shotgun and a straw cowboy hat and a long brown dress with fringe hanging from the shoulders. Jonathan and his long haired friend Argyle arrive behind Nancy dressed as Sonny & Cher. Argyle had given up the fast moving life in California once a Surfer Boys pizza arrived in Hawkins. He delivered to the house so much during the nights that Corroded Coffin was practicing that he had your order prepped and ready to go by the time you had called it in. He’d show up so blitzed out of his mind that he’d forget he was at work, sharing his different strains of weed with all the Corroded Coffin boys.

Robin and Steve are in the kitchen, ladling jungle juice into empty cups. The duo dressed as Thelma and Louise, Robin wearing a black muscle shirt and sunglasses, and Steve wore a white tank top with a neckerchief. Both talking in horrible southern accents.

Eddie is standing next to Argyle in the living room both holding almost empty cups of the forbidden jungle juice, deep in conversation about something called Purple Palm Tree Delight, but knowing them, it had nothing to do with a lavender paradise. You reach around Eddie to grab a pinwheel, taking a bite when Argyle, clearly stoned, goes wide eyed leaning into Eddie his eyes still transfixed on you he whisper yells.

“Yo, I swear to God, I just saw two of you.”

“Argyle it’s me, Tooty.” You explain standing next in front of them trying not to laugh. “This is the real Eddie, I’m just dressed like him for Halloween.”

Argyle leans forward and whispers into your ear, “Yeah okay man that’s what the aliens would say before they clone us and take over.”

He leans back and takes two big steps backwards, eyes wide in a horrified daze, before disappearing down into the basement.

“Don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but that guy smokes way too much.” Eddie chuckles, downing the rest of his jungle juice and eating the fruit at the bottom of the cup.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you warn him watching with your own gut twisting as the sweet juices of strawberry slither down his chin and down the slope of his neck.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, smacking his lips, “I’m twenty six years old, I can handle my liquor.”

“Okay,” you reply, “just so you know, the fruit soaks up all the alcohol and Steve presoaks it all in everclear the night before. Last time he ate all the fruit he spent an hour in the bathroom crying about his love life or lack thereof. And besides, we have to play in the pong tournament in a half hour.”

“We?” Eddie asks, lips turned up and a slight blush to his cheeks, “I didn’t sign up for beer pong.” His dark eyes pour into yours.

Heat creeps up your neck as you reach for a Jell-O shot cracking the lid off and circling the dish with your finger before sucking it into your mouth.

“I signed you up,” you say, reaching for another Jell-O shot, “everyone had a partner but Argyle and Will, so I paired you with Argyle, and I’m with Will,” you slide your finger around the Jell-O dish and suck the cherry gelatin into your mouth, savoring the bitter bite to your tongue before you crush it between your teeth.

“You better bring your A game Munson,” you say, taking a step into him and poking him in the chest, “because I don’t lose.”

Eddie isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol that’s making him feel this way or you but suddenly he can’t stop blushing, laying the charm on thicker than peanut butter, “oh really?” he asks intrigued, “Well babe, I don’t think you know this but I’m the Forest Hills Trailer Park Pong Champion for eight summers in a row, so technically,” he’s leaning forward now, whispering low to get his point across. Your breath hitches in your throat, you can feel the tickle of his lips against your ear, his hair is brushing against your face, the faint smell of motor oil stuck in his curls, “I never lose either.”

He pulls back and your eyes lock. The heat flooding your cheeks burn, the ache in your stomach travels south and pulses with want. You can’t deny it to yourself, even dressed as Jesus Christ, Eddie is the best looking guy you’ve laid eyes on, and you were melting at the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, a smirk placed on his lips as he brushes his tongue over his bottom lip to catch the remnants of the horrific fruit juice. His eyes never leave yours as he takes the Jell-O shot dish you’re holding and sets it behind him on the table. The tension could be cut with a knife, thick and heavily hanging in the space between you both. Eddie opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by El screaming for Mike to get to the backyard instead of puking in the kitchen sink. Her Alice in Wonderland wig askew on her head and holding Mike’s mad hatter hat between her hands.

Running to open the sliding door you get it open just in time for Mike to projectile vomit off the deck.

“Christ, what did he eat?” Eddie asks from behind you, “damn Mike you’re such a pussy!”

“His dumbass didn’t eat all day and when he got here he decided that Jell-O and fruit would be a good option.” El says, rubbing his back as he pukes again and again, “I don’t feel bad for you Mike!”

Wiping his mouth on his forest green jacket sleeve, he murmurs, “Babe, I’m fine, seriously, a few pieces of bread and I’ll be in tip top sh—“ puke splatters wetly against the grass again.

You grab El’s hand and squeeze, “let me know if you need anything, okay?” She nods and smiles sweetly.

“C’mon,” Eddie says behind you, “let’s go so I can kick your ass in beer pong.”

You turn your head, half facing him, “game on, Munson.”

-

The sharpie bracket on poster board continued moving forward thanks to Steve’s basketball knowledge. Jeff and Ash beat Mike and El, Nancy and Jonathan beat out Gareth and Big D in a very close came both opponents having one cup left. Steve and Robin were beat out in the first round by Dustin and Susie, something King Steve would never be living down. Nex on the bracket to play would be you and Will playing Argyle and Eddie. Honestly it should be a piece of cake, a walk in the park. Will wasn’t the most athletic but last year him and Jonathan got second place against you and Nancy so the odds were pretty high. One thing you were absolutely certain of was that you would not be losing to Jesus and Cher tonight.

The basement is packed with everyone besides the ill Mike and faithful El. Argyle and a pink lensed Will are in the corner smoking a fat blunt the sequin jacket he’s wearing sparkles through the haze of smoke and the catches the lights. You haven’t seen him since Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding. But he’s letting his hair grow out, finally letting the bowl cut Joyce insisted on him having all throughout middle school and high school go. Steve has Dustin in a headlock for teasing him about winning against Mr. Hawkins High basketball star of 1985.

“Ya know for once, I was actually good, like really good, Steve overthrew the last cup and it was game over once Susie got the ball. She’s strangely amazing at beer pong. Probably found the mathematical equation from the distance of the table and her elbow to the solo cups.” Robin rambles on, only stopping to get her breath. “How are you? I haven’t seen you all night. Killer costume by the way, if you can’t beat ‘em be ‘em right?”

Robin and her absolute no filter mouth, always make you laugh, linking your arm with hers, “I really like your and Steve’s take on best friends driving off a cliff together to evade police.”

��JESUS CHRIST!” someone yells from upstairs.

Not missing a beat, Eddie can be heard returning the exclamation. “You rang?”

Rolling your eyes and looking his way, you laugh when you see him, holding up his arms in praise.

Robin’s voice bringing you back to the conversation, “Epic right? Steve thought we could be conjoined twins but then decided against it when he figured there was a small chance he could possibly get lucky tonight when that black haired girl at his job kept hinting that she wanted a date with him.”

“What!” you shout, “He never told me this!”

Robin rolls her eyes and takes another drink from her too foamy beer, “he’s nervous, I think he really likes her but doesn’t wanna fuck it up like he does everything else.”

Steve deserved to be happy and to have someone love him. He was always making sure everyone else was okay, you smile at the thought of him with a girlfriend.

“So,” Robin presses, wiggling her eyebrows, “Eddie looks good tonight,” a wicked smile dances wildly on her lips.

“I’m not at all buzzed enough to have this conversation,” you say, taking a peak at Eddie through your eyelashes, he was laughing loudly at something Steve had said, head thrown back, exposing his neck.

Will joins your side, reeking of weed and heavy musk cologne. “Tooty!” He squeals, wrapping you into a tight hug, “the house looks so fucking good I can’t believe it, also I heard that you’re living with Eddie? I’m going to need all the details!”

“It’s so good to see you, look at your hair!” You say holding his arms. Will threads a hand through his hair and laughs a little.

“Thanks, it’s new but it’s kinda growing on me, now, spill it. Tell me everything.”

“Next game!” Nancy announces, advancing her and Jonathan to the next bracket. “Argyle/ Eddie vs Tooty/ Will.”

Will grabs your hand and drags you to the beer pong table, “after?” He asks and you nod your head.

Eddie and Argyle are standing on one end, you and Will on the other. The cups are arranged into a triangle and filled with the warming pitcher of keg beer.

“You ready to go down groveling, sweetheart?” Eddie sings from across the table, eyes squinting when he leans on the edge of the table smiling at you.

Your stomach flutters, taking a long swig of Will’s jungle juice, staring Eddie down as you gulp the vile liquor and fruit punch combo down, “You ready to get your ass kicked, Munson?”

-

“Woo! That’s balls back ba-by,” you sneer, hooting and hollering as Eddie begrudgingly tosses the balls back your way. It was almost as if Argyle and Will weren’t even there, this game was between you and Eddie. You were definitely buzzed, between the warm beer and the Jell-O shots you had eaten you were feeling good.

When you miss the first cup, Eddie makes devil horns at you and howls at the moon like an idiot. You sink the next cup, earning a high-five from Will, and a sly grin from Eddie as he removes the cup and chugs the warm beer. He’s secretly excited that you’re so happy, letting loose, in your element, surrounded by your loving friends. You glowing with a sense of freedom. In that moment when your eyes caught his, he knew he was in trouble, you were wrapped around his finger and he didn’t think of hardly anything else, but you, your beautiful smile, the way your hair caught each light you were under. He was in deep, and for right now, he was perfectly and utterly okay with that.

It’s Argyle’s turn and he surprisingly sinks both cups, being awarded with balls back, as you and Will each take a cup and drink the suds down. Trying to distract him, you whip off your Eddie- esque wig and toss it towards Eddie, shaking your hair out like a wild woman.

Unphased by your antics he does it again and you groan. Four in a row? This guy was half asleep the entire game and all of a sudden he’s an athlete? They only have 1 cup left. Tension rises and the room goes to silence at Steve’s request. Argyle sinks it. Eddie erupts into cheers grabbing Argyle by the shoulders and jumping up and down.

“Redemption attempt!” Steve shouts, giving Will the ball. Will takes it with nervous fingers, blowing the ball to dry it slightly as you chug the last cup. He only has two cups to make. Will tosses the ball and the room goes silent, it feels like it’s in slow motion, or maybe that’s the alcohol. The ball soars through the air, bouncing against the rim of the cup lapping up the foamy beer, before it falls off and teeters off onto the table.

Argyle raises both hands in the air, “VICTORY!” the room erupts with cheers. Will apologizes profusely but you hug him tight, telling him you were happy he was your partner.

“Next game is Jonathan/Nancy vs Jeff/ Ash starting in 20 mins!” Steve hollers. The basement clears out as people go upstairs to use the bathroom and refill their drinks.

You expect Eddie to be gloating, cocky beyond belief. But he’s the opposite, coming up to you slowly, head bowed, upper teeth practically biting his lower lip in half.

“Good game sweetheart,” he says barely above a whisper, “not gonna lie, I really thought you guys were gonna win.”

Holding your chin high, face only inches from his, the brown pools of colored whiskey stare into your eyes. Placing a hand on his chest, the alcohol gives you enough of a push to cross the line. The thin gauzy material of the gown he’s wearing is sticky with sweat and warm from the heat radiating from his body. “Told myself I wouldn’t lose to Cher and Jesus tonight.”

Eddie let’s out a throaty laugh, “can’t believe he pulled that off, he didn’t make a cup all game.”

“Guess you get to continue wearing that tarnished crown, speaking of wardrobe… where the hell did you get this outfit?”

“You know that church across from the police station?”

“The one with the Jesus statue inside?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows and gives you a knowing glance, waiting for you to catch on.

“No way! Eddie! You broke into a church and stole an outfit off of a statue?”

“Amen,” Eddie says roaring with laughter, “ahh c’mon you can’t tell me it wasn’t a genius idea.”

Rolling your eyes, “I wouldn’t exactly call it genius, but funny? Yes.”

He laughs again, “not everyday I get a compliment from myself,” he says eyeing your costume, “you do make a pretty cute Eddie Munson if I say so myself.” he wasn’t even thinking anything of it, just blurted it right out.

Flirting came easy to him almost as a second nature, he was never nervous around women, usually finding the game of sex not just something he was good at but conquered with ease. But this, here, with you? Was a slippery slope. A different game for him entirely. He was a pawn amongst you and you were the queen, striking down whoever came near, holding all the power.

Your cheeks heat from his compliment, blood rushing through your body and warming your skin, he holds your hand to your chest, stroking your fingers with his thumbs.

A thousand bolts of lightening ignite you, he smells like smoke, ashy and burning, the cheap keg beer on his breath as he smiles softly at you.

“Tooty!” Steve calls from the top step, clinging onto it for dear life, “are you down there?!”

You’re the first one to break away, pulling your hand from his grasp, threading them together at the last minute, finger tips clinging to each other like velcro. The flames between you both extinguished fast, no oxygen left in the room to keep it going.

Getting to the bottom step and turning, you give him one last glance and a small smile, before trotting up the stairs to Steve.

-

Eddie opens the patio door to find Gareth and Big D blowing smoke into the sky and talking about the best DIO song.

“Shit man, where have you been? Didn’t your game end like 15 minutes ago?”

Eddie thinks of a lie quick, “Taking a piss why you wanna watch?”

“That’s weird,” Big D questions, “cause Gareth just came out of the bathroom unless there’s a magic bathroom you haven’t told us about.”

“What are you guardian of the toilet?” Eddie says slotting a cigarette between his teeth and flicking his zippo open.

“I mean he’s got a point,” Gareth interjects, “where have you been tonight, turning water into wine? Or are you healing the blind?”

“Cool it, Whoopi,” Eddie bites, “the fuck does it matter where I was or wasn’t?”

“You’ve changed dude. Used to be a ladies man, different chick every night. Smoking and drinking all night watching the sunrise. Fuck man you were hell on wheels. Then all of a sudden you move in here and you’re acting like the Pope, fixing up her car off the clock, bringing her to and from work, you’re like her fucking babysitter.” Gareth exclaims.

“Fuck off man, she’s Eyeball’s sister, and I’m just looking out for her.” Eddie grits through his teeth.

“Or,” Big D suggests, “you like her, I mean you still haven’t even told us about the twins— and you stare at her like she’s about to combust at any moment.”

“Yeah and what do you two know about anything?” Eddie spits.

“Clearly not shit, but you’re all fucking riled up about a girl you don’t like.” Gareth flicks his cigarette and goes inside, Big D following.

The door opens again, “listen man, I’m not in the mood for your stupid fucking advice.” Eddie groans, turning to see Steve standing at the door, an empty pitcher in his hand. “Shit, sorry, thought you were Gareth.”

“Nope kept my habit at home,” Steve says with a chuckle, setting the pitcher on the edge of the deck, “nice party, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, “ya know when Tooty first told me that her and Nancy threw a party every year I didn’t believe it, turns out I was wrong about her, seems to be a theme of mine lately.”

“She doesn’t let a lot of people in, but once you’re here, it means she trusts you, respects you.” Steve explains.

Eddie smiles softly, ashing his cigarette.

“She cares about you, ya know? She might not want to admit it— may even be scared to admit it to herself, but she likes you.”

Eddie gives him a look. Sure you were nicer to him, not threatening to kick him out anymore. You had let the band practice in the garage, even staying out there to hear them play. But that didn’t mean anything did it?

“How many times do you think she’s cut my hair?” Steve inquires, leaning next to the railing on the deck beside Eddie.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says honestly, “a dozen?”

Steve chuckles, “Never, not once, never even offered. You think she made elaborate meals for Nancy when they lived together? Wrong— she barely touched the stove. You move in and she’s changed, for the better. It’s like she’s coming back to life, and the only common thing in that equation, is you.”

Eddie mulls this over, could Steve be right? “I don’t know man.”

“I may not be Mr. Relationship but I do know Tooty, and you’ve softened her edges. Tamed that frightful girl we all love and adore. She’s got walls up, keeping people out, but not around you, not anymore.”

Eddie hangs his head, his heart bursting with sad euphoric bliss. He couldn’t go about this like any other conquest. And with you it would never be how it was with the other women. Faceless broads in mini skirts, praising him, doing whatever he wanted them to. He never saw you in that way. Holding you on a pedestal about the rest. He hadn’t been in a relationship in years. One too many times of being cheated on was enough for him. But you were hurt too, more so than he was. He was still licking his wounds with anything willing and able. You? You were a shell of yourself. He couldn’t act on this like he would with anyone else. He cared about you too damn much to make you feel like you couldn’t trust him again.

“And I know you care about her. Everytime I look at you you’re staring at her like a sad little puppy.”

Eddie looks up then, looking at Steve like he held all the answers to life’s questions. He turns and leans against the deck, elbows on the railing just how Steve was facing the house.

“Yeah, you’re right, I do care about her, more than anything. So what do I do?” He asks Steve.

Steve shrugs, letting out a loud sigh, “keep doing what you’re doing, she knows you care about her, just don’t disappear on her.”

Eddie turns his head from Steve and catches sight of you through the patio doors. He can see you taking a Jell-O shot with El, Robin and Nancy. A sleeping lump of clothes on the kitchen table with black hair must be Mike. You light up the room as you laugh when Robin makes a repulsive expression after taking her Jell-O shot. He can’t hear your full laugh, it’s faint through the glass. But, he doesn’t need to hear it to know the sound—having heard it more and more the last few weeks, the way you throw your head back when something is really funny, sometimes covering your mouth. He’s certain he’s never seen anyone more angelic in his life. Like you have sucked all the air from the room, even dressed in a sheer mockery of him, you’re radiating a glow that makes his heart swell. He has never cared about anyone the way that he does for you.

Seeing him through the doors standing next to Steve, he has a smirk on his face. A sudden rush of shyness creeps up your neck and you turn away from him, but you reciprocate his actions, smiling at him. A small gesture that melts him on the spot.

Eyes trained on you but still talking to Steve, Eddie beams, “I’m not going anywhere.”

A/n: see you in volume vii

Hope you all enjoyed this. There were some little hidden Easter eggs in this chapter, go to my askbox if you found them 💕

readmore eat my ass or this line you decide, whore.

—

—

[racefortheironthrone]

Speaking of swashbuckling, do you know of any context in which a modern reader should approach Man in the Iron Mask (besides being the end of a larger work, and also loosely influenced by history)? I found it surprisingly anti-climactic (titular character is barely in it), and a Shoot the Shaggy Dog Story where no good deed goes unpunished and all schemers get away scot free. Notably, all film adaptations have made the story more heroic. Is there some historical context I'm missing?

I don't know if I quite agree with your description - The Man in the Iron Mask is not a full story, but as you said the "end of a larger work." So to that extent, I think it's a mistake to think of the titular MITIM as a "character" - he's a MacGuffin, a catalyst for the larger conflict between Fouquet and Colbert, who are the real drivers of the plot that results in the tragic downfall of the Musketeers.

Indeed, I would argue the emotional heart of the story is the breakdown of the bonds between Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and d'Artagnan. D'Artagnan is forced to choose between his duty to Louis XIV and his friendship with Athos, under Fouquet's influence Aramis becomes d'Artagnan's enemy and arguably the main villain of the story, Porthos has to choose between Aramis and d'Artagnan - and in the final conflict Porthos is killed, Aramis is consumed by remorse, Athos dies of a broken heart, and only d'Artagnan gets a "good ending," becoming Marshal of France before dying a heroic death at the siege of Maastricht.

I think calling this a shoot the shaggy dog story is a bit unfair, because Dumas was writing historical fiction. D'Artagnan, d'Aramitz, de Porthau, and d'Athos were real people and really were close friends, and I would argue the Dumas stories give them a far more interesting and evocative arc than what happened in real life - Athos died in a random duel only three years after meeting d'Artagnan, Porthos resigned from the Musketeers to take up a significant judicial office in the provincial Parlement of Navarre and Béarn, and Aramitz retired from the Musketeers to become an abbot in Béarn. D'Artagnan's death at Maastricht was a famous historical event of its time and couldn't be changed.

[bubbleguppyyy]

Oh, Little Birdy.

Chapter 1

Dean x fem! reader, Past! Bucky x fem! reader

Story Synopsis: Being plagued by constant dreams of a man with beautiful green eyes who calls you Birdy can be very confusing if you don't remember ever meeting him. You want to understand these dreams all while trying to understand why you used to harbor feelings for a certain Winter Soldier who wants "nothing" to do with you.

----------

You really should’ve listened to Soldat when he told you to carry a compass because you had no idea where you were. 

It was damp out, and the roads were starting to become slick from the small mist of rain. Forests surrounded both sides of the narrow road that seemed to go on for miles and miles. You had been wandering it for about 5 miles now with no clue what direction you were going. No cars had passed by in a while and nothing but eerie silence filled your ears. 

None of this would have happened if you had completed your mission correctly. All you were supposed to do was shoot some politician from his second-story bedroom window. His house was in the middle of the woods in a state you couldn’t remember the name of. This was one of the easier jobs you had been given during your time with Hydra. No fighting or contact was involved. 

Everything had been fine, you were programmed to your soldier form and ready to take any order Hydra wanted to give you. You never felt anything in that form. It used to bother you until Hydra made sure that it didn’t. 

Your finger was on the trigger waiting for the order to execute. Next thing you know, you’re being attacked by someone. They were a good fighter, but you were better. The only person you weren’t better than, was Soldat. 

Right before you shot them, they threw some weird powder in your face. It made your eyes hurt and your throat tighten, spurring a coughing fit. You dropped your gun and ripped out your com that had some random Agent screaming Russian in your ear. You dropped to your knees, rubbing your face, trying to get the powder off.

When you finally felt like you could open your eyes, you felt an immense amount of emotions run through you. You gasped as large tears slid down your cheeks. You gripped your chest where your heart hurt. 

Your soldier form had been compromised. 

Everything seemed more vibrant, it wasn’t all just some colorless haze anymore. You could hear the crickets and the sound of the politician's dog barking in the distance. The leaves on the trees rustled with the wind and their light green color almost hurt your eyes. For the first time in a long time, you felt so alive. 

The moment you realized all this, you immediately abandoned your mission and ran as far away as you could. That brought you to the road you had currently been wandering. You kicked a pebble in frustration, shivering slightly from the breeze. 

You stopped walking at the sound of a car coming up fast from behind you. It was blaring music and as you turned around to see what it looked like, it came to a screeching halt a few feet away from you. You shielded your eyes from the headlights while trying to identify the song playing.

You tilted your head and squinted your eyes as two figures got out of the car. 

“You lost, sweetheart?”

The figure that spoke moved in front of the right car light, giving you a break from being temporarily blinded. His voice was deep and smooth. He was tall with broad shoulders and bowed legs that you found sort of endearing in a way. He had short brown hair sort of spiked up and green eyes that shone with mirth as he watched you size him up. 

“Easy there, we aren’t going to hurt you. We just want to make sure you’re okay. What’s your name?” The second figure spoke up when he saw how tense you were. He was taller than the other one with long shaggy brown hair and a kind smile. You gave him a tentative smile and relaxed your shoulders as you thought about what he asked.

The question shouldn’t have been as hard as it was but it had completely stumped you. You had no idea what your real name was. With Hydra, you were either called by your number or by your soldier title. 

You looked between the two as you spoke.

“I’m not sure what my real name is. I haven’t been called it in years. I would prefer that you didn’t call me by my other names since I am sort of escaping the people that called me that so, I guess you can just pick something.”

You watched as they gave each other a worried look, no doubt wondering why you were called something other than your given name. 

You shivered as they silently communicated with each other, hoping they wouldn’t notice. The one that had called you sweetheart seemed to catch it out of the corner of his eye and immediately shrugged off his large leather jacket, carefully approaching you with it. 

When he reached you, he slowly wrapped it around your frame. It engulfed you in a scent of motor oil, leather, and musky vanilla.

You couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were so green, so alive. Just like the leaves of the tall oak trees surrounding you. You felt tears coming on again. 

“How about we call you…. Birdy. Since you said you’re escaping.” He gave you a wink and half smirk, proud of the new name he picked for you. 

You shot a quizzical look at the other guy who looked equally confused as he gave you a shrug.

You turned back towards the man in front of you who looked eager to hear what you had to say about the new name. 

“I guess it does fit my current situation, I like it. Now that you have my name, what are yours?”

You giggled a little when the jacket guy seemed to puff his chest when you said you liked the name. He smiled wider when you laughed at his antics. He then cleared his throat and gestured to himself and the other guy.

“Our names are D-

The emergency alarm and the voice of Friday woke you up in a panicked state. Something about an immediate mission meeting happening. 

You had been so close. So close to understanding the meaning of all of these random dreams. So close to finding out who called you Birdy. 

You slid out of bed and threw on a zip-up hoodie over your crop top and shorts. You grabbed your go bag in case the mission was going to happen right after the meeting. 

Whatever was going on, you hoped it would distract you from the green eyes plaguing your mind.

[flickys-courage-club]

[This is my AU of Straight Outta Nowhere: Scooby Doo Meets Courage The Cowardly Dog movie, I included my CTCD OCs Barry, Onyx, Carnelian, Kameron, Francine, Bunitty, Crister and Bard in it]

[While Mystery Incorporated met Courage and the Bagges, Muriel and Eustace. Courage heads up to the attic, Scooby and Shaggy follow him up the stairs. In the attic, Courage's new friend who is a black cat named Barry is asleep and holding his plush rabbit. There, Courage opens the door, and he, Shaggy and Scooby enter. As they enter, the three approach the sleeping cat]

Courage: Shh– [he whispered to Shaggy and Scooby] Barry? Barry? [he responded quietly, then he pokes Barry's nose]

[Barry opens his eyes, he sees Courage, Scooby and Shaggy all looking at him. Barry yawns and stretches his arms out]

Shaggy: Like, pal. He's now… speaking to his rabbit he has with him?

Barry: [he sees Courage] Oh, Courage! [Then his eyes move to Shaggy and Scooby Doo. But that causes him to get scared and he screams, which is from his anxiety. Barry pulls out his toy gun underneath his blanket and he points at Shaggy]

Shaggy: ZOINKS! Like, that lil guy HAS A GUN RIGHT AT US SCOOB!

Scooby: Ruh roh, Raggy! WE'RE ROOMED

Shaggy: Like, listen little dude. We're both like, pretty cool dudes. Ain't that right Scoob? [Barry lowers his toy gun down]

Scooby: Rah! We ratch a road of creepy monsters and a road of rad guys

Barry: Oh… right. [places his gun down behind him] Sorry that I pointed my gun at you guys. I genuinely had to do that if there is anything that is trying to kill me in this household.

Shaggy: Like, that's ok pal. Like, I thought I was gonna get shot

Barry: Look, don't worry about it. It's actually a toy gun that shoots corks instead of real bullets. [Scooby and Shaggy's eyes look at eachother, then at Barry]

Scooby: …Right

Courage: Barry, would you like to introduce yourself to them?

Barry: Oh right, I didn't even get to do that at first. My name is Barry! I am a new friend of Courage here in Nowhere.

Scooby: Roh– But how did the two of you meet? [Scooby points at each of the two]

Barry: He met me at a hospital, I was with my mom, after i am now born. Courage came here to see us. We became very close, and we have many things in common. [Scooby and Shaggy nod to that] we do get scared at things really easily, but we have a brave heart and by that we save the ones we love.

Shaggy: Like, that's so cool dude. [to Courage] Your actually a cat that acts like you dude

Courage: [nods] Mmhmm

Shaggy: Like it's nice to meet you Barry man. I'm Shaggy, Shaggy Rogers

Barry: It's nice to meet you too Shaggy

Scooby: I'm Scooby Doo

Barry: Scooby… Scooby Doo? As in the famous Scooby Doo who solves the most greatest mysteries with a crew of… mystery solvers?

Scooby: Yeah? [Courage is confused]

Barry: [places his paws on Scooby's and he looks up at him] I can't believe this, I.. I watched many of your shows!

Scooby: [gasps] REALLY?!

Barry: Yeah! You guys are in a van, running around doors, and unmasking monsters who are now people dressing up in costumes. You have given me inspiration Scooby Doo, to become a mystery solving detective around the streets during the 50s [his eyes are sparkling with excitement]

Scooby: Wow! [his eyes sparkle with excitement too]

Shaggy: Like lil man, I now really noticed how much of a fan you are to Scoob [places his arm around Scooby's shoulder. The three together chuckle along, while Courage watches Barry with an embracing smile, since he has found new friends to interact with]

Shaggy: [spots Barry's bed behind him] Huh? Like, never seen a bed placed in a attic like this

Barry: Oh, yeah. That's where I sleep in

Shaggy: Like, in the attic? [to Courage] Like does this dude have a home and a family, man?

Courage: Yeah, he does. But he stays in here a lot, since his parents are busy with stuff

Barry: Lemme put this up with you Courage. [he holds out some pictures of his family to Shaggy and Scooby] My family all appear to be in mafia teams. The first being my ancestor Nathaniel. After he married Miranda, they had their son Barrett

Scooby: Oh wait! He rooks like you

Barry: You could say that we are much alike to our ancestors. By time passes, the three families start with my great grandparents; Carnelian and Onyx, Gerald and Lillie, and Piperita and Cinnamon. My maternal great grandparents had my grandfather Matt and great aunt Maria. And also great grandparents had my maternal grandma; Lauren. My maternal grandparents now had my mom named Teresa, and my uncle who is called Oliver. Great grandpa Piperita and great grandma Cinnamon have grandma Marie, who she met my grandpa Brandon and they have my dad named Nathan. And finally my mom and my dad are married and they have me! Which I am the final of the bloodline. [Shaggy and Scooby's jaws dropped by the whole family tree explanation that Barry has told them]

Shaggy: Like man, THAT WAS WILD! Like I didn't even know that you are like part of such a huge family line like this. [Barry raised his eyebrow at Shaggy while he lets his breath out]

Barry: Yeah, since my father runs a mafia business, he and mom had to do their work, so with their trust to Courage. They now acquire him to be my caretaker [Courage smiles at this response, and chuckles. Then Shaggy, Scooby and Courage head down the stairs. Courage and Scooby Doo turn around to Barry]

Courage: Barry? Are you… coming?

Barry: I'm coming Courage

[Barry joins along with the three as they go down through the attic, then, downstairs to the living room where the rest of the others]

Muriel: Oh– Barry! Your here in time for my special Scottish dream cookies. [she hands one to Barry, which makes him giggle with joy. He then eats it]

Shaggy: Like dude, you get along with the sweet old lady here

Barry: [gulps it down] Yeah, Muriel is like a grandmother to me

Scooby: We seen that ranky old man here

Barry: Who– Oh… you mean Mr Bagge? I don't like him

Shaggy: You don't like him cuz of how cranky he looks–

Barty: I prefer not to say about it

Scooby: Ok

[Scooby and Shaggy's friends; Velma, Daphne and Fred see Barry, though he backs a little, nervously]

Barry: Uh, Shaggy? Scooby Doo?

Scooby: Oh! Their my friends

Fred: Hey!

Daphne: Hi!

Velma: Hello!

Barry: Hi? I'm… Barry. Who are you guys called?

Daphne: Daphne, Daphne Blake

Barry: Oh, so your Daphne the… the Beautiful! Daphne the Beautiful! It's nice to meet you Daphne, I'm Barry [walks to Fred]

Fred: I'm Fred Jones

Barry: Fred Jones! Or Fred the… Leader! Fred the Leader! It's nice to meet you as well [the two shake hands. Then he walks to Velma] and your…

Velma: Velma Dinkley

Barry: And you provide the intelligence. Which has me to call you Velma the Tech Intelligent! I'm Barry

Velma: It is an honoured pleasure to meet you Barry. And we would like to welcome you to the Mystery Incorporated where we solve the biggest mysteries around the whole world [Barry's eyes sparkle with wonder when he is welcomed to the Mystery Incorporated]

[josendlessmonolouge]

my oc intro except I’m super tired so they’re incoherent.

Johnny manygoats

born: 1950

job: odd jobs, mostly does rodeo gigs and works his sheep

physical description bc I’m too lazy to draw him: big ass dude like 6’5 and he wears riding boots so it’s scary. He’s got Hooded Big brown baby cow eye and a broad face. Really warm undertone skin idk how to describe it other than like you would use burnt umber paint when mixing it. Very tan bc he constantly claims that bc he’s native he won’t get burnt “I’m dark already I can’t burn” (he can) when before the war he had really long (mid back length) hair but when he enlisted he cut it to military standard. The story has important parts pre war and post so it’s anywhere between long and kinda shaggy when he first started growing it back out. He doesn’t wear any pants other than wranglers. He wears either a western shirt or a really ratty redbone T-shirt that Sara hates but he will wear it until it’s shredded. He has basically two expressions; 1) I’m going to kill myself, you or punch a wall or all of the above and 2) beautiful dimpled ear to ear smile with squinty eyes and crooked teeth, that is pretty well reserved for his niece and nephew or his animals.

likes: summer treats. Like idk he just would live off watermelon and icecream if he could. He was eating frozen grapes way before y’all were. His niece and nephew, his older brother, Michael. the rodeo. reading western novels when he doesn’t have a headache. His horse. His wife, Sara. Marty robbins, Johnny cash, and hank Williams. (so jo core) Throwing shot-put. Marlboro reds. Black coffee. His dog. Sitting on his porch at night. Working on his family’s ranch. =. horseback mounted shooting.(pre war) when he had long hair he liked doing it in the same style as sara (he doesn't have much spiritual identity in his hair but his grandfather did he just liked it long because that's how his grandfather his, also he thinks it looks nice on him. he doesn't enjoy the racist comments he gets on it though obv) western suits. (actually part of how he met his wife) dancing (boy loves line dancing sm)

dislikes: any clerical/business work. Itchy fabrics. being cold, people assuming he’s just a stupid country boy. Literally anyone he went to high school with except for his best friend. Gilah monsters, He knows they don’t often bite people but they scare him still. Coyotes. Really fast talkers. Alcohol. Lyndon Johnson. Being touched without asking first. doctors. physical therapy. dark chocolate (opposite of me) the beatles (again so not jo) running. horseback mounted shooting (post war)

personality: gentleman, always wants to be polite and helpful but also extremely blunt and doesn't realize it's rude/funny/awkward he comes from a family where men are pretty open with their feelings masculinity? bitch his dad cried over hitting a barn cat with their truck. even though he's not really someone to hide his emotions because of like any societal or familial pressures, he doesn't like to be a problem or in anyone's way, so he isn't always too open. really good with kids. he really wanted kids but was exposed to agent orange and was advised to not have children, it broke his heart more than being a pow. genuinely terribly traumatized obv but especially just heart broken by the fact he'll never be a dad. protective of his friends and family to a detrimental degree, wouldn't ever hurt anyone except for when they say something cruel about mike (brother), sara (wife), theodore (best friend). only really became reserved in his emotions after the war, where he felt kinda ashamed and struggled with survivors guilt. can be a show off but he's honestly just earnestly proud of himself. likes to learn new practical skills, he was so excited when he learned to sew.

[dudepilled]

Postal '97 Dude Hcs

You all loved the Doe ones so much and voted on Postal 1 Dude next so here we go!

He truly was a really nice person before everything went to shit. Went out of his way for people even when they didn't deserve it

Was also a really good kid at school. At least a 3.0 GPA

Adopted Champ after the events of Postal 1. Champ was originally a therapy/emotional support dog

Kept his hair long because haircuts were always expensive. Eventually got some clippers and just cut it himself (Postal 2 cut)

His dad taught him everything about guns and how to shoot.

Dressed in layers a lot. It was so he was always prepared for whatever the weather had to offer (cough alsohadbodyissues cough)

His parents were still around at this time (They died when he was in his 30s) so they bought him whatever he needed. That's how he got his combat boots and jacket for the wintertime

Korn Enjoyer. Also likes Slipknot, Megadeth, and Black Sabbath (Just enjoys Ozzy Osbourne in general)

Also loves old consoles. Gameboy, Dreamcast, NES, and N64 are his go tos

Would be a DOOM fan

Grew up Catholic and part of the reason why he snapped. Religious trauma on top of undiagnosed mental illnesses

His hair was cut in a mullet style but it grew out so it's now all shaggy long layers

His sunglasses give him his confidence. They're like his mask

Despite how he was in the asylum, he did appreciate it once he left. Now he could be a psychopath in goddamn peace

Hope you guys like these! Tell me your hcs for him!

[dark-elf-writes]

Harry and Touya make a bucket list over the years of all the things they’re going to do when they finally see each other. And they, teen moms as they are, both decide family photos are an absolute must.

And thus Harry, teddy, and the todoroki siblings all find themselves posed for an awkward JC Penny photo shoot.

The contents include but are not limited to: Touya lion king-ing teddy and Harry doing the same with shoto (plus several attempts to do the same with Natsuo and Fuyumi), Harry and Touya doing the dirty dancing lift, them all staring at the camera with blank faces + sunglasses, each of the solemnly posing with a random object, a height line up from tallest to shortest, and head stacking.

I’m obsessed with the idea of the list, of an ever growling list of promises to each other to make up for what they never got to have (what they lost along the way) until they were fully on their own.

It starts, perhaps predictably, with a dog. An absolutely massive thing with light shaggy fur (“anything but black” Harry had pleaded through tears. The wound still raw to have such a present reminder of one of the many ghosts in his life) and is the absolute definition of a gentle giant. He does wonders for all of them, helps heal some of the broken pieces of them.

Then Harry starts learning to cook new and more wild dishes. Starts experimenting in ways that he was never allowed to before. Starts learning to express himself through food and take back the piece of him that had always enjoyed the process even if he hated who it was for.

Then Touya gets piercings and tattoos and removes himself farther and father from the ideal of perfection that was shoved upon him. After some gentle prodding Harry gets a few tattoos of his own and the prophet has a field day when he comes back to England for some reason or another and they get pictures.

They get cringy family photos done, all of them laughing between takes and swatting at each other when they broke into giggles in the middle of a picture.

Touya gets Harry art supplies, remembering how he had once loved to draw all those years ago, and encourages him to take it up again. Their house is full of little paintings in seemingly random places that make them all smile when they see them.

Harry uses magic openly and freely in the house, never flinching away from what he is. They use the word magic without fear. Freak is never once spoken in the safety of their home.

Touya and Shouto learn to take their fire back, to unlearn it as a part of their father and see only their own ability that has been theirs since birth. Learn to manage the flames without hurting themselves or others. Learn to love the part of themselves they hated.

They learn how to heal in their own ways, in seemingly silly and weird ways, in ways that no one would ever think of. They learn what happiness means to them and they chase it.

[dwollfieldnotes]

Manticore

Indica by Ctesias (5th Century BC)

Lives in India

Has the face and ears of a man, is cinnabar-red all over, and has light blue eyes

Three rows of teeth

Tail is like that of a land scorpion, with a cubit-long sting at the end

It has other stings on either side of its tail and one on top of its head

A sting-made wound is always fatal, except to elephants

If attacked from a distance it can discharge its sting as if from a bow, if from behind it will straighten its tail [so the tail seems to have some sensory system, like the hairs of an insect, to detect motion near it]

Called the man-eater in the languages of the Persians and Greeks

Though it consumes animals as well, the greater portion of its diet is made up of human beings

Stings grow again after being discharged

Natural History by Pliny the Elder (77)

Cites Ctesias

Lives in Æthiopia [sub-Saharan Africa]

Triple rows of teeth, which fit together like the teeth of a comb

The face and ears of a man, azure eyes, the body of a lion colored blood red, and a tail ending with a sting like a scorpion [so, not just a straight-up scorpion tail, but similar in effect]

Too swift to be caught by men

Has a voice like the union of a flute and trumpet

Craves human flesh above all else [may be a specialist predator of humans, using its face and voice to lure people in]

"On Animals" by Aelian (2nd century)

Cites Ctesias

Lives in India, and is called the man-slayer by Persians

As large as the largest lion, with red cinnabar fur and a shaggy coat like a dog's

Has the head of a man and human-like ears, but larger and shaggy. Eyes are blue-grey

Three sets of teeth on the upper and lower jaw, larger than the fangs of a hound

At the end of the tail is a sting like a scorpion, a cubit in length, with stings in intervals at each side

The prick of the tip is fatal to anyone, and death is immediate

Can discharge its stings like a bow. When it shoots ahead of it, it must bend its tail above itself, like a scorpion. If behind, the tail must be straightened. [Seems to be momentum-based]

Stings are as thick as a bulrush

In the places where those stings have been let fly others spring up, so that this evil produces a crop [so… the stings are able to grow like a plant when detached from the manticore. Are the stings a separate organism, that symbiotically attaches to the manticore's tail? A creature that grows like a plant and produces poison, but is otherwise sessile, requiring the manticore to disperse them. The manticore gets a poisonous weapon for its tail and the stings grow/regenerate in the tail]

Hunted by Indians when they're young, still without spines. They crush the tip of the tail with a rock so that they can never grow. [Again, suggesting a sort of symbiosis. Young manticores have to seek out these spine-organisms and accept their eggs onto their tails for them to grow]

Their voice is remarkably like a trumpet

Some were spotted in Persia, and Ctesias brought this up with the Persian king to discuss the issue [spreading their range?]

[redhoodscorvid]

My partner got to see the frantic creation of the "Does Jason Todd sleep with a gun" poll in real time. But the real question? The real question is how literal we're going to get about Jason's gun being a teddy bear.

Jason woke to silence.

Sun poured through the cheap blinds. Hot air bled the smell of cigarettes and sweat. Sheets stuck to his front, the shitty fabric rough and saturated, as his right hand tapped against something soft. Full on dog days of summer: you didn't have to be nightlife for sunlight to be unbearable at this point.

At mid-morning, the neighbour couple two doors over should be yelling about what chores are humanly possible to do before shift. The godawful buzzer for the corner store directly below the unit should ring with a delivery. One floor up, frantic shuffling and cupboard slamming will echo as the guy who's holding on to a courier job by the skin of his teeth looks for his keys. He'll usually run down the hallway three to seven minutes late.

It felt like the building was holding its breath.

Half-decent, Jason thought.

Jason's forearms tensed for leverage. He swung his right leg over his body, springing up. His heel hit Thug 1 in the nose. 

The blood is extraneous. Ignore the bullet hitting the wall behind you. 

He let the momentum of the arc touch his feet to the ground, and followed up the tap with a solid left hook to the temple. The guy dropped like his strings were cut, and Jason uncoiled with his right hand pointing unerringly at the doorway.

Jason blinked slowly, hoping his face only gave away how unimpressed he was at the situation. He was pointing a teddy bear at Thug 2. 

Control the situation.

"You know, I actually like this shaggy dog toy a bit," he said, letting dead casual fall from his lips. "It'd be a shame if something happened to it."

Skinny Thug 2 was eleven feet away, with the small hurdle of the poor excuse for a mattress between them. The man had let his gun droop a bit, his straw blond hair falling into his face as he gaped. 

Jason smiled. It wasn't a sunny smile; it was the kind that exhaled concrete dust and industrial fumes in the heat of summer.

"A .44 Magnum," he said, letting the words fall, carefully timed, into the quiet room, "Is usually overkill. Your little 9mm is a better choice for this kind of situation. But you know..."

A pause as Thug 2's eyes widened. He managed to get the gun mostly pointed up at Jason.

Jason stepped forward, not letting the shaggy teddy bear drop an inch. "...the Magnum will make a big chunk of your head explode. Brain matter everywhere. Kind of on my bucket list.

"It's a shame, though. Would pretty much annihilate this little fucker."

Jason pointed the teddy bear lower.

"I'd probably have to shoot you a few times to make up for it."

Thug 2 raised his hands, letting the gun clatter to the floor. 

Jason actually did wince at that point. Idiot could have killed Mr. Chronically-Seven-Minutes-Late if the gun misfired. So Jason didn't feel too bad about smashing the guy's forehead into his knee.

He left the completely normal teddy bear tucked under Thug 2's elbow.

[coffeeghoulie]

Kinktober #19: Hate Sex

The Ghostober prompts were put together by @kroas-adtam, and divider made by @gothdaddyissues, thank you both so much!

Pairing: Aeon/Dew

Summary: Aeon and Dew don't get along. Until they do.

Contains: Trans Aeon, cunt used for what he's working with, and trans Dew, dick and cock used for what he's working with, Dew being a little sweeter than he lets on

Read under the cut or on AO3!

For a few weeks after his summoning, Dew loathes the quintessence ghoul following him around like a lost duckling. He doesn't know why, knows deep in his chest that Aeon had done nothing to warrant it.

They fight like cats and dogs, lashing out over the littlest things when Papa isn't around to admonish them for it. They're supposed to be professionals, for Satan's sake. It's never come to blows, but they're going to have to share cramped, close quarters for months, and they have no idea how they're going to keep from killing each other on some tourbus in some far off part of the world.

It comes to a head a few days before they leave for the European tour. They spat in an alcove, tucked away from prying eyes, fighting over something they can't even remember.

It's all raised voices, insults and threats before Aeon cuts Dew off. "You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid!" Aeon blurts out, before he freezes, eyes wide like he didn't even know he was going to say it. Dew bites back astonished laughter.

They stare at each other, a moment hanging heavy like eternity, before Dew lunges. He slams a hand against Aeon's shoulder, shoving him into the stone wall of the alcove. Aeon winces, but his eyes shoot open as Dew threads his other hand into his hair, keeping him from taking the brunt of the collision.

Dew crashes his mouth to Aeon's, kissing hungrily, brutally. Aeon whimpers, trying to kiss back just as hard, instead yielding to Dew's assault on his mouth. The younger ghoul's eyes slip shut, letting Dew kiss him how he wants.

Dew pulls back from the kiss, his chest heaving. He cocks his head as he feels something warm and hard pressing into his hip, laughing darkly as the younger ghoul furiously blushes, splotched skin flushing dusty violet. "Oh, and I'm the one who wants to fuck you," Dew scoffs, glancing pointedly down at Aeon's crotch, a dark stain of his slick already showing. "You weren't projecting at all, were you, bat boy?"

Aeon snarls, but the heat isn't all there. "You kissed me! Not my fault this body's new!"

Dew throws his head back, laughter echoing around the alcove. "Oh, little bat. If it's such a problem, let's fix it." He tightens his hand in Aeon's shaggy hair, pulling him out of the alcove. Aeon yelps, but follows close behind, letting Dew drag him down the Abbey halls.

Dew hipchecks open his bedroom door, tossing Aeon inside unceremoniously. The younger ghoul stumbles, but somehow manages to stay on his feet as Dew follows and shuts the door behind him. "Get undressed," Dew says, ignoring the feeling of Aeon staring at him as he moves to his closet.

Aeon blinks owlishly, fingers twitching at his side. He jumps as Dew snaps his fingers twice.

"Either you strip, or, if you don't want this, you get the fuck out and we forget this ever fucking happened," Dew says, turning and rummaging through a box in his closet, pulling out a tangle of straps and an intimidating looking dildo, dark orange and red silicone, and pushes it through the o ring.

He watches, eyes lit up in delight, as Aeon obediently pulls his shirt off over his head, revealing miles of mottled skin, patches of light violet against dark grey, a dark blue binder compressing his chest. Dew strips as well, tying his hair up and stepping into the harness, humming as the base of the dildo presses delightfully against his already dripping dick. He smears lube over the toy, slicking it wet and shiny.

"Over the bed, bat," Dew instructs, ogling Aeon's lithe body. "We'll get the fight fucked right out of that pretty little head of yours."

Aeon takes a moment too long to respond, feet frozen to the floor, and Dew snarls, storming over and grabbing a fistful of Aeon's hair. He shoves the quintessence ghoul over the mattress, kicking his legs apart and shoving his tail aside, getting a good look at his core.

Dew laughs, the smell of electricity overwhelming. "Oh, little bat's already dripping wet, just from getting shoved around and yelled at. Do you think you can take my dick, or do you need my fingers first?"

Aeon pants, suddenly dizzy. "Can take it. Make me take it."

Dew lines the toy up, pausing for a moment as he nudges the tip against his entrance. "You're sure, Aeon?" He asks, quietly hesitant. "Don't want to actually hurt you."

"Fuck me already," Aeon snaps, shoving his hips back and sheathing Dew's dick inside of him. Dew groans as the strap grinds into his cock, watching Aeon's mismatched eyes roll back into his head.

He gives the quintessence ghoul a moment to adjust, waiting until he starts to whine under his breath before rocking his hips forcefully into Aeon's. He screams with it, body shoved up the bed as Dew begins to fuck him, all of the vitriol and misplaced anger behind each thrust.

Aeon wails, shoving his hips back forcefully with each of Dew's movements, ears twitching each time Dew groans.

"Just fucking lay there and take it, little bat. You want it so bad, look at you, you're fucking drooling for my dick!" Dew laughs, watching the spit leak past Aeon's parted lips. He tightens his grip on his hair, pulling his head up from the mattress. "Let me fuck you dumb, batty boy."

Aeon whines, brow furrowed as he tries and fails to focus with Dew's cock inside of him. His body goes limp, letting Dew use him how he wants.

"Such a little brat, pissing me off just so he can get in my bed. At least he's making me feel good," Dew rambles, grinding his dick into the base of the strap. "Such a pretty little body. Fuck," He groans, looking down at where Aeon's cunt swallows his strap. "Gonna keep using you, Aeon. Keep fucking you until I'm satisfied. Until you're crying and drooling on my cock."

The way Aeon whines, Dew thinks he wouldn't mind it at all.p

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

I know you're primarily doing Bumbleby, but ever since the Big Cat RWBY post where Cheeta!Ruby and Snow Leopard!Weiss where introduced, I kept wondering about what Animal!JNPR would look like.

Rather than giving them feline dopplegangers as well, my mind instead kept returning to canines, domestic dogs specifically.

Dog!Jaune would a Golden Retriever, because obviously. He'd be owned by Pyrrha before she came to the zoo/animal reserve Jaune works at. Picked up as something of a runt from the litter, and the only male pup amongst all the sisters because why not.

Dog!Pyrrha would be something that looks imposing but would only be dangerous if provoked or goaded, maybe something like a Rottweiler. Or better yet, a Dobermann! Dobermanns are fiercely loyal to their owners and are known to bond with one person only. Owned and cared for by Jaune after he found her in an dank alley with, of all things one could expect, an arrow in one of her back legs.

Arkos happens by chance when both Jaune and Pyrrha are taking their dogs out for a walk in the local park. There's a whole meet-cute scenario that brings the two together and bish-bash-bosh, both Jaune and Pyrrha end up with a significant other they each believe to be out of their league.

Dog!Nora can't really be anything else but a Samoyed. Sure, it'd be funny to have her be like a massive wolfhound or something, but I think the Samoyed is basically perfect. Nora's boisterous, active energetic and playful and so is the Samoyed. If you can keep a handle on her, she's incredible to have around.

Dog!Ren on the other hand was harder to pick. After some searching however, I managed to come across the Chuandong Hound. They're described, among other things, as noble, loyal, and dignified. All of that describes human!Ren quite well I'd say. They're also protective of the people they care about and are known to stand guard if strangers come up to their owners, only to lower their alertness if their owners are fine with them.

Dog!Ren and Dog!Nora would both be owned by an established Renora couple. When they adopted them as pups, Nora named them like that on a whim because she thought it was hilarious. She still thinks it's funny now, now that the dogs are all grown up.

All four dogs, despite their vastly different personalities seem to mesh incredibly well when they all meet each other for the first time. The same goes for their owners but that's to be expected really.

Anyhow, whether you decide to do something with this or not, I just needed to get this out.

Big Cat AU is 100% funny, fluffy and lovely by the way, definitely hope to see it come back from time to time.

Whew! This was a long one for me to go through, so I apologize for the delay here.

I like the idea of Pyrrha being a doberman! But maybe keep the ears floppy instead of cropped for her. Adds to her wanting to be "normal".

Jaune is definitely a Golden boy, but I don't see him being one of the AKC purebread floof boys. No, I want him to be the shaggy, dark blonde slender boys. They have more charm.

Nora.... I have to disagree with the Sammy. I can honestly see her being a Terrier. Specifically a Jack Russel Terrier. Those little crackheads are so loving, but absolutely crazy when they get into hunting mode. Considering her backstory, I can see her being a terrier mix.

Ren's definitely works! Never heard of a Chuandong Hound before, but I can definitely see it. Otherwise maybe a black and brown Chow Chow.

I'll have to do the Dog Days AU in a different post, but I'll try to do one soonish! I just need to get an idea. If you think of a prompt before I do, shoot me an ask!

(Funny thing is: I'm not that big of a cat fan. I'm a dog person, so the fact that I'm writing a Big Cat AU is hilarious for me! I'm glad you're enjoying it though! I enjoy writing up blurbs for it.)

[waltwhitmansbeard]

"here. take this gun. don't pull the trigger unless it's absolutely necessary."

Can we get some sweet perc'ahlia, please? :D

here. take this gun. don't pull the trigger unless it's absolutely necessary. gonna set this one in gwtf since that's also my modern au, apparently.

The sound wakes Percy from a dead sleep, sends him shooting up from the pillow, eyes instantly wide and searching. It's pitch black in this apartment, black-out curtains drawn tight because it would take an act of the gods to get Vex to wake up with the sun. Even now, as his heart hammers a mile a minute, she's just barely stirring, still clearly in the clutches of sleep as she mumbles, "Percy darling?"

He heard it. A creaking, or maybe snapping? Something from the hall outside, he's sure. They're in a nice area of the city, all brick and marble, but that invites a different kind of danger, one where shiny things attract all manner of monsters in the dark.

He's just about to tell her what he'd heard when it happens again: a muffled bumping, just outside their door. That, at least, rouses her properly, gets her to sit up next to him. "What was that?"

He doesn't answer, because he doesn't know. Instead, he reaches into the stately nightstand beside the bed and pulls out his gun, the one she hates but he cannot go to sleep without. Her hand grips his shoulder. "Percival, don't."

Ignoring her still, he reaches back into the drawer and retrieves a second weapon, this one much smaller and less powerful. He twists around to press it into her hand. "Here. Take this gun."

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. "In what world—"

"Don't pull the trigger unless it's absolutely necessary." This, he doesn't say, is why he wanted her trained, why he's been nagging her to go to the range with him sometimes, just so she's not a complete novice with the thing—but no, it's the archery classes she's been taking that are supposed to keep them safe.

He swings his legs out of bed and begins to pad out of the bedroom and into the living area, eyes scanning in the near total darkness. Nothing stirs, but as he approaches the front door, the sound grows louder, more insistent. He tightens his fingers around the grip of the gun. Behind him, Vex's shuffling gait pulls his attention—he'd really rather she stay back, keep hidden unless and until the worst happens—but he focuses on the task at hand. Silently as he can, he slips up to press his eye to the peephole.

Nothing.

The hallway is empty.

He turns back to Vex, who mouths, What is it? He shrugs. He undoes the chain and the deadbolt, and then slowly, so slowly, creaks open the door, the gun just at his side.

"WOOF!"

All the money in the world, and Percy never in a million years would have bet that the cause of all this worry is this, an enormous, shaggy, dark brown mutt panting happily in the hall, here on the fourth floor of their rather upscale building. Percy stares, gaping, at the dog, who boofs again.

"What the hell?" The door is wrenched open further as Vex strides up to get a look. Her squeal is nearly inaudible as she instantly falls to her knees, gun abandoned on the entry table. "Well look at you!"

There's a dog. A street dog, judging the matted fur and the stench, and Vex is letting it lick her face as if she's known the thing since it were a puppy. "Vex'ahlia..."

"Well move out of the way, Percival, and let him in!"

Things have spiraled out of his control so very, very quickly. Within seconds, Vex is inside on the couch with the dog, scratching behind his ears and ordering Percy to fill up a bowl with water for him. He obeys robotically, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that while he may have been fast asleep not five minutes ago, he is now a dog owner, whether he likes it or not.

"Vex'ahlia, he probably has fleas..." he attempts weakly, but Vex is already listing out all the things they'll need to do and get in the morning, like checking for a microchip and buying dog food and getting him to a groomer. Eventually, he leaves her to her whirlwind excitement, returning to the two firearms to their place in his nightstand drawer and crawling under the covers, resigning himself to whatever chaos awaits this house in the morning.

[deathbecomesthem]

I have my werewolf Eddie headcanons, and I've been lazily writing a meet-cute for him and the reader. I don't know if it's actually going to end up on the blog or not.

I do want to talk about him, though. If you want to know anything in particular about him, shoot me an ask. Or don't. I don't know. I just desperately want a shaggy dog man in my bed with me.

[flickys-courage-club]

Introducing Barry!

Design

Species: Cat

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Asexual

Family: Nathan(Father), Teresa(Mother), Marie(Grandmother), Brandon(Grandfather), Nathaniel(Ancestor), Miranda(Ancestor), Barrett(Ancestor) Lauren(Grandmother), Oliver(Uncle), Matt(Grandfather)

Likes: Roses, fantasy movies, action movies, his parents Nathan and Teresa, rabbits, cats, spending time with Courage, Bunitty(platonic love interest), becoming a detective, mystery shows

Dislikes: Courage in danger, Muriel in danger, danger, his friends in danger, spiders(except Tyrone and his spider crew), Toxin(worst enemy), spicy food, getting scared, violence, his family in danger, Eustace Bagge(enemies)

Friends: Courage, Muriel, Felix, Clive, Justin, Maxwell, Olive, Geo, Charlie, Bunny, Kitty, Bunitty(platonic love interest), Gabriel, Russell, Platinum, Milo(Uncle to him), Grayson, Shady(Childhood best friend/brotherly figure), Computer, Team Frostbite(Damien the Wolf, Malcolm the Mountain Hare, Snowflake the Arctic Fox, Chief Azrael etc), Absolute Six(Jasper, Cyan, Marina, Hurley, Jackson and Carmen), Aden, Eight Tribes of Honour(Lucifer, Claude, Nigel, Krimson, Iram, Blizzard, Twigs and Possum Mob), Fred, Lord Blade VI, Cannibals of Vintage City, Bon, Cyril, Hunchback of Nowhere, Bigfoot, Duck Brothers, Dr Vindaloo, Courage's parents, Animals of Fear Gang

Neutral: Shirley, General, Lieutenant, Banana Suit Dealer

Enemies: Eustace, Fred(formerly), Katz, Le Quack, Cajun Fox, Weremole, Black Puddle Queen, Clutching Foot, Mad Dog, King Ramses, Sirius, Toxin, Alan, Jacob, Raven, Cruel Veterinarian, Vore, Thursday, Tuesday, Saber, Slice, Dice, Amaris, Sin Clowns(Pride, Wrath, Gluttony, Greed, Lust, Envy and Sloth), Fear King, Fear Slaves, Di Lung, Mecha Courage, Ma Bagge, Gem, Evangeline the Musical Mistress, Bone Antler

Facts:

He has a fear of spiders because of the abuse he got from Toxin who is in fact a spider himself.

Barry knows how to hold a gun, however it's a toy gun that shoots corks instead of bullets. He learnt his technique of handling his toy gun by his ancestor Barrett.

He is neutral to Shirley the Medium. He shows respect to her but worries about the curses she puts onto others.

After rescuing Bunitty from Mad Dog, the two became really friends, until they both start to have platonic feelings for each other.

His interactions with the General and the Lieutenant left him in dismay, due to the them fighting with each other or their "antics" as Barry refers it all to.

Barry has become a victim hunted down by Thursday and Tuesday AKA Feline Hunters, since he is a cat.

In the crossover; Straight Outta Nowhere! Scooby Doo Meets Courage The Cowardly Dog. Barry becomes allies with the Mystery Inc. His favourite members of it are Shaggy and Scooby Doo.

Barry loves watching mystery shows, which got him dreaming of becoming an great detective.

Barry's relationship with Computer didn't go well at first, because Computer became (of course) a bit of a jerk to him, until Computer was aware that Barry has anxiety. By that, he now helps Barry how to cope with anxiety.

Barry is allies with Team Frostbite, Absolute Six and Eight Tribes of Honour, he sees Team Frostbite and Tribes of Honour as family figures.

He loves his grandparents Marie and Brandon. Marie loves him dearly and Brandon has a soft spot for him, he tends to nickname him "Scamp" if he forgets his grandson's name.

Whenever Courage isn't around with him, he takes the role as Courage himself. He does remember two of his catchphrases and says them whenever he is in a dangerous situation. The catchphrases being "The things i do for love!" and "I know something bad is gonna happen or if my name is [random name]! And I'm glad it's not."

Barry has the ability to sense any danger that is coming

Barry is the one who set Lucifer free by his order and he fully knows that he has gained freedom.

Barry had an ultimate regret by setting Fear King free. This is because the King was abusing him psychological and uses his anxiety for his goals, but only to make it more worse, but then Barry finally stands up to him, telling him that releasing him was the worse idea he had done and he now sends him back to his book for all eternity and throw it out.

Despite having a fear of spiders, Barry became allies with Tyrone and his spider crew. It was said by Barry that he doesn't fear spiders that show kindness to him