#aka unnamed freak

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

excerpts from ch. 66 “phoenix, part two: too long the songs have been silent”

the boys help Gareth through the worst day of his life.

I bawled like a baby the entire time I was writing this. just need everyone to have love and support and good friends like these in their lives; consider this me trying to manifest them for you.

TW: accidental drug overdose (no lasting harm done to anyone)

“What do we do?” Jeff whispered. “Should we take him to the hospital?”

Grant shrugged. “Honestly? We should probably just get him home and let him sleep it off.”

“Is that safe?” Eddie managed to choke out.

“Dude, I read all the junk my mom got from the pharmacy. I don’t think he actually took a very big dose,” Grant informed them. “He’s probably only loopy ‘cause he’s never had anything like this before. But he should be okay.” He paused. “As long as he keeps breathing.”

“That’s not very goddamn helpful, Grant!” Jeff snapped.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Grant shouted back. “It’s not like they can pump his stomach at this point!”

“Okay,” Eddie interrupted. “Okay. Let’s take him home and let him sleep, and we’ll all stay with him and make sure he’s all right, and if anything gets weird then we take him straight to the hospital. Okay?” He gently brushed a hand through Gareth’s hair, picking out the leaves still tangled in his curls.

Jeff and Grant both nodded. But Jeff spoke up one more time. “What are we gonna tell his mom?”

Eddie shrugged. “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. Help me lift him, I’ll carry him to the car.”

“I got him.” Grant easily hefted Gareth piggyback style onto his shoulders. “Hang on tight, dude.”

“Don’ wanna go,” Gareth wept. “Like it here.”

“Too bad. We’re taking you home.” Grant wrinkled his nose. “Dude, you reek. You’re getting a shower, first thing, whether you want one or not.”

“‘M tired.”

“You’re also stinky. And your hair’s a mess,” Jeff chimed in.

“Man, fuck all y’all.” Gareth swatted at Jeff, missing him by a mile. “Hate you guys.”

Grant actually giggled. “You do not. You totally love us. We’re your best friends.”

“We love you too, nerd,” Eddie told him. “Kinda wish you’d told us how bad it was before you decided to buy drugs from Rick, though.”

~ * ~

Grant punched one of the pillows to fluff it up. “We should probably go check on him,” he suggested. “Just in case.” He didn’t make a move in the direction of the bathroom, though, and Jeff didn’t seem inclined to either. Eddie sighed again.

“I’ll do it, if you guys are too embarrassed.” He shook his head, snorting a little laugh. “Not like I have anything resembling dignity anymore. Be right back.” He could hear the shower running from outside the bathroom door, but no other noise, and Gareth didn’t answer when he knocked. “You better say something,” Eddie called through the door. “If you don’t answer me in ten seconds, I’m coming in.”

He waited. Silence.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He stepped into the bathroom, kicking aside the dirty clothes on the floor, and perched on top of the closed toilet lid. “You awake in there?”

Still no answer.

“Dude, say something,” Eddie demanded worriedly. “Are you okay?”

Gareth didn’t respond, but now Eddie could discern, almost but not quite masked by the running water, the sound of quiet sobbing. He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to think what he ought to do.

“Do you need help?” he eventually offered. “Want me to wash your hair?”

Gareth croaked out something that almost passed for a laugh, and finally spoke. “No thanks.”

“I know that seems like a really fucking weird thing for me to say, but, like… sometimes I can’t do it. When I’m really depressed. Sometimes it’s too hard.” Eddie fiddled with the toilet paper roll, twirling it round and round. “And Wayne will come in and wash my hair for me, so it’s one less thing I have to do. If that makes any sense. Once Dustin even did it for me. So it’s not, like… I’m not trying to be weird. But I’ll help you if you need it. It’s okay if you need help.”

He heard another little broken sob and a few sniffles before Gareth answered. “I don’t need help, but… you, um. You could maybe stay. In here. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, man.” Eddie started drawing a picture of Godzilla on the fogged-up mirror. “Are you hungry?”

“Nah.”

“Too bad. I’m starving.” He was only half joking. “Think your folks would make us breakfast later?”

“Probably.” Gareth cleared his throat. “Mom might even bake you cookies or something. For bringing me home.”

“I will never turn down homemade cookies,” Eddie laughed.

~ * ~

Gareth insisted he could manage getting dressed on his own, but when ten minutes had passed and he hadn’t appeared, Eddie got antsy. He knocked on the bathroom door again, calling loudly, “I’m coming in again, dude, so cover up anything you don’t want me to see.” He found Gareth slumped on the closed toilet lid with his head resting against the wall, sound asleep. He’d managed to get his underwear on and one leg into his sweatpants, but that was it. Eddie chuckled, and called out for the guys to come give him a hand.

He steadied Gareth while Jeff helped him get his pants on, and Grant laughed “arms up!” and pulled a shirt over his head as if he was a little child. Then Eddie rummaged through the cabinets until he found a comb and some sort of moisturizing hair treatment. He scooped out a palmful and rubbed it through Gareth’s hair. It smelled like green apples.

“Whatcha doin’?” Gareth murmured, already half asleep again.

Eddie shrugged. “Chrissy always puts conditioner and shit in my hair when she washes it. Says it makes it easier to get the tangles out.” He started carefully working the comb through his friend’s curls, gently easing out a knot. “You need a haircut, my dude.”

Gareth scoffed. “You. You can’t say… nothin’ about anyone’s hair.” He rubbed his eyes. “‘M tired, Eddie.”

“I know, buddy. Lemme just finish this, and then you can go to sleep.” He combed out another little snarl. “Hey Gare?”

“Hmm?”

“Be honest.” Eddie swallowed hard. “Did you take all those pills on purpose?”

Gareth shook his head emphatically no. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to… y’know. Hurt myself. Really only wanted to forget.” Impatiently he swiped tears from his face. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “I mean, yeah, it wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever done, but I can kinda understand what you were trying for. Just— promise me you won’t ever do anything like that again, okay? Please?”

“Yeah, okay. Promise.”

“And I don’t ever wanna hear any more of that ‘the Party always comes first’ bullshit, either, okay? You’re my brother, man. I love you. Whenever you need me, I’m here for you, got that?”

Gareth wiped his eyes again. “Got it.”

“Good.” Eddie helped him to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed now, huh?” He held his friend’s arm to steady him as they made their way to his room, where Gareth crawled straight into bed and burrowed under the blankets. By unspoken agreement they all piled in with him, Grant next to him at the head, Eddie and Jeff settling in at the foot.

Gareth nestled into Grant, curling around him like he was a giant teddy bear. He tucked his feet under Jeff’s ankles and closed his eyes. “Love you guys,” he mumbled against Grant’s shirt. In seconds he was asleep.

Eddie smiled. Grant sighed. Jeff sniffled a little bit. They all sat quietly, just listening to Gareth breathing, and when Maggie poked her head into the room to check on them some time later, that was how she found them.

[steddiealltheway]

(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)

Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”

“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.

“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”

“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”

All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”

Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”

“We’ve never done a livestream.”

“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”

“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.

Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”

“You never know!”

Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.

“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.

Eddie pauses and turns around.

“What money am I using to by this stuff?”

Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”

Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”

Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jeff, give me your phone.”

Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”

“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.

Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”

Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”

Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.

Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”

“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.

“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”

“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.

Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”

Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”

“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”

Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.

Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”

Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”

Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”

He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.

Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”

All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”

“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.

Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”

“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.

Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”

“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.

“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.

Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.

“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.

He freezes.

“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.

Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.

“What?” Gareth asks.

Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”

The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.

Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”

“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.

“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.

Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.

Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”

Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”

They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.

They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.

They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”

The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.

“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.

Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”

Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.

“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”

Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”

“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.

As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.

“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.

“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.

“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.

“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.

Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.

As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?

This is Steve Harrington by the way

Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????

He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.

can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it

eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything

okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad

eddieeeee

eddie stop ignoring me

if you don’t respond im going to send your number

okay

im sending it

if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again

Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.

And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”

Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.

Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”

“Zero.”

Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”

“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”

Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”

Eddie sits up. “What?”

“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”

“To punch me?”

Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”

Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.

“Eddie? Are you still there?”

“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”

“No way,” Eddie calls him out.

“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”

Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah.”

Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.

“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.

Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”

Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”

Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”

Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”

Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”

Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”

“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.

Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.

Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

LOOK HOW ADORABLE THEY ARE 🥰😭🥰 just love these silly boys!!!

Thank you @macau1ay for not laughing at the geeky pose I picked for them— I like to imagine they saw some drunk sorority girls posing this way and Grant sighed that he couldn’t remember the last time anyone was able to pick him up, and Jeff was just like “say no more, boo” 😂

@1lostsoul0fishbowl A commission of Corroded Coffin!!! Thank you so much for commissioning me 🫶🫶

[cranberrymoons]

holes on the house 🍩

prompt: hole (@steddiemicrofic) LMAO word count: 404 rated: m for innuendo notes: LMAO blame the collective brain cell we all shared for this one; also if it's not obvious, Ian is unnamed freak aka my best friend

“You’re kidding.”

Eddie’s been trying to track it down for weeks now, ever since he heard the rumors floating around about the insanely hot new food truck guy who just opened up shop. He’s looked everywhere, even taken to stalking them online for updates on where they’ll be, but no luck until now, stumbling out of the Hideout after a show with an arm slung over Ian’s shoulders to fumble for the pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket.

And there it is: a bright pink truck with an open side, glittering under the streetlight with a loose line of people waiting to order, The Hole printed on the side in white stylized script.

“This is the best night of my life,” Eddie says as he finally manages to snag one of Ian’s cigarettes. He sways a little, tipsy as he cups a hand around his face and bends to light it. “Please tell me we made enough on covers tonight to justify paying way too much for sexy donuts?”

Ian makes a face. “Technically, but–”

“But?” 

“But we’d probably be better off just getting gas station ones on the way home.”

Eddie clutches his chest and places his other hand on Ian’s shoulder. 

“I’m being so serious right now,” he says. “If you ever loved me– and you do, we all know you do.” He points at the food truck with the end of his cigarette. “Please let me go hit on hot donut boy.”

Ian gives him a flat look, completely unimpressed by Eddie’s dramatics, which– is rude, honestly, after how much time Eddie’s spent staring at donut boy’s buns on Instagram. 

Ian sighs. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Eddie says. He claps Ian on the shoulder again. “Fine is good– yes. Donuts. I just really like donuts.”

Ian snorts, shoving his hands in his pockets as he follows Eddie to the back of the line. “Sure you do.”

It takes them a while to make it to the front, but it’s so worth it when they do. So, so fucking worth it. 

The guy leans over far enough that Eddie can see down his shirt to the miles and miles of hairy chest. Pops his hip out and grins. 

“Saw you play tonight,” he says, eyes flashing. “You guys were good. Holes on the house.”

Eddie almost chokes on his tongue. “What about the donuts?”

The guy laughs. “If you give me your number.”

[also on ao3]

[serasvictoria]

Title: Roller Queen

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: A heatwave has hit Hawkins and bored out of his mind, Eddie tries to find something to do. He finds that something in the Palace Arcade…

Word Count: 6997

Content Warning: 18+ mdni. Semi-public sex. Oral sex (male receiving). Vaginal fingering.

Notes: This is what you get when you spend quite some time on Pinterest during a heatwave and suddenly finding a picture that just inspires you. The picture is all the way at the end, it just worked for me.

There is also one mention of the name Arlo in this and that's what I called the unnamed Hellfire member aka Corroded Coffin’s bass player, also known as the titular “Freak”. There’s an entire backstory in regards to why I gave him that name, but I won’t bore anyone to tears with that particular HC.

Betaread by @adrille88 Thanks again ❤️ Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

If he was really honest with himself, Eddie had to admit that he kind of liked heatwaves.

All the assholes would leave the town of Hawkins, abandoning the hot and humid place like a bunch of rats leaving a sinking ship, and they’d go spend a couple of days at their log cabins near some lake, leaving all the less fortunate residents behind.

Not that he thought that he was less fortunate, fuck no. He wouldn’t want golden boy Jason Carver’s shiny life. Sitting next to mommy, wearing his Sunday best and listening to daddy as he preached fire and brimstone to the congregation as they clutched their crucifixes. Lord knew where the bastard was now. Probably forced to suck up to some senator’s kid whilst he pretended that he wasn’t from some backwater shithole in Indiana.

So yeah, heatwaves weren’t all that bad. Besides, you could dress for the heat.

He was currently lazing about on the porch in an old pair of jeans that were cutoff right above the knee. His Motörhead shirt (which he had also modified after he tore it making it sleeveless as well as a little bit too short) was in a crumpled heap right next to him.

The only thing that was bugging him at the moment was trying to decide what to do.

It was the first summer after graduation, so he should have been spoiled for choice, but sadly that was not the case at all.

Steve and Robin were at work, like Jeff, and he didn’t feel like bothering them at their workplaces. Again. Dustin was at some kind of robotics camp. Wheeler had joined the Byers family for their last summer in California before they moved back to Hawkins. The Sinclairs were visiting relatives, as was Gareth. Arlo had been signed up for summer classes by his mother because he was failing a couple of classes.

So there was currently no one that he could shoot the shit with.

Usually Eddie wouldn’t have any problems on his own, he’d almost grown accustomed to it when he was a kid, but he was bored out of his mind at the moment. Didn’t help that he was coming off his previous high as well.

Absentmindedly scratching his neck, he brushed away some of the locks of hair that had come loose from his ponytail and that were sticking to his sweaty skin. He’d already taken a cold shower earlier and even that wasn’t enough to fight the heat.

The AC had also gone on the fritz at the worst possible time so staying in his bedroom wasn’t an option. Which meant that jacking off was off the cards, too. Because hey, when in doubt, jerk off. It was basically an unwritten rule.

Everyone that was still in town had either gone to the community pool or the woods, but those weren’t really places where we wanted or could go to. Lover’s Lake and Skull Rock were places that were worth considering, but you never knew if you’d disturb anyone whilst there and some people didn’t take too kindly to having an audience. And even if they were keen to have onlookers, that didn’t automatically mean that they’d want him there.

There wasn’t really much else to do apart from aimlessly driving through town until he found something that was worth his while.

Getting to his feet with a groan, he stretched out, grabbed his discarded shirt from the couch and put it on. His keys and cigarettes were on the small table next to him so he pocketed the packet of smokes and then locked the front door (even if no one was insane enough to attempt to steal anything from them, what with them having the good old Munson name and all).

As expected the van was hot as hell, so he rolled the windows all the way down on both sides before starting the engine and heading out of the trailer park in search of something to do.

Driving around town, he’s reminded of that Ghost Town song by The Specials (Robin was going through a bit of a ska phase at the moment) and before he knew it he was humming it which was in stark contrast to the Megadeth song, Wake Up Dead, that was currently blasting through the speakers.

Despite having previously decided that he wasn’t going to go to Family Video, he found himself driving in that direction anyway. Maybe Eddie could convince Steve to give him access to his backyard so he could have a dip in his pool in exchange for a couple of joints? Worth a shot.

This brought him right past the arcade, which was practically next door, a place that he hadn’t set foot in for quite some time. Together with Harrington, he seemed to have earned the dubious privilege of dropping the kids off there quite frequently, but he never joined them despite Henderson asking him to do so every single time.

He wasn’t about to have his ass kicked by some kid at-

Eddie swore that his eyes were seconds away from rolling out of their sockets.

All that he caught was a quick peek through the open doors of the arcade, but it had been enough to make him punch the brakes of his van and he came to a standstill right in front of the building.

Eddie had never parked his van so fast in his life.

When he got out of the van and walked across the asphalt to his destination, nerves set in, which was insane when he really thought about it. Why was he even nervous? Was it because he was seconds away from shooting his shot and potentially getting horrifically turned down?

The name of the place was lit up in purple neon on the awning over the doorway. Unbelievable that this was something that could make him set foot in the place after all this time, having seemingly graduated from it many years previous, constantly proclaiming that it wasn’t “his scene” since books and board games were more his thing.

That was a better excuse than saying that he had simply been unable to afford it. Money had always been tight in the Munson household and wasting a couple of quarters on something that he couldn’t even take home with him or put in his belly seemed pointless.

There’s an acne stricken teenager sitting on a folding chair next to the open door, a look of annoyance on his face that betrayed the fact that he didn’t want to be here at all.

“There’s a change machine inside. You know where to find me if it stops working,” he says with a bored tone when Eddie passes him by. The kid doesn’t say it, but his line sounds well practiced, leading him to believe that the aforementioned machine must have some issues.

It also sounds like the kid has no intention of going inside unless he absolutely must.

So that means that no one will see Eddie crash and burn if he does. And if he doesn’t, there won’t be anyone to disturb him either, so it was a win-win situation no matter what.

It was cooler inside, but only slightly. The AC was old and far too small to cool such a large space, but it still tried to do its job to the best of its abilities.

There were plenty of noises around him, machines beeping in an attempt to make him look at them, to make him see what he could play if he would only give them a couple of coins. He barely even seems to notice them at all, not caring about what the games have to offer him.

Not now.

The row of games that were visible from the door are all vacant. No one’s there to pour over them, desperately trying to win, so he moves on to the row next to it as he tries to find what he’s looking for. He’s about to turn the corner into the third, already somewhat convinced that his mind had been playing tricks on him, that the heat had fried his brain, when he comes to a sudden standstill and simply stares at the image before him.

Eddie had not imagined it, hadn’t gotten a severe case of heatstroke, hadn’t witnessed a mirage or anything of the sort. Even if mirage was probably the best word to describe what he was looking at.

You were leaning over the controls of one of the machines, tapping away at the buttons and moving the joystick back and forth.

That in itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Dustin often spoke of you with awe in his voice, regaling everyone with how good you were at the games at the arcade. You and Max held a lot of the high scores and that was pure catnip to the younger boys who only cared about trivial things like that. The fact that you were older only seemed to make you more appealing to them.

A fellow nerd.

An older fellow nerd.

An attractive, older fellow nerd.

Eddie had never really gotten it until now, but that was more down to what you were wearing, which was a lot more revealing than what you had worn when you still walked through the hallways of Hawkins High. Hell, Principal Higgins would probably have a heart attack if someone wore that to school.

In an effort to fight the heat, you were wearing a pair of cut off blue sweatpants, which were so short that they might as well be hotpants, and a dark blue bikini top. And on your feet were the signature roller skates that were very much an extension of yourself as it were.

He doesn’t think that he’s ever seen you without them when you weren’t in school or working. There’s even a story about how you kicked Andy Collins in the balls with them once, but no one has ever been able to confirm that particular story since it was very much based on hearsay.

It is a fact however that Andy doesn’t seem to sniff around you quite as much as he does with every other (single) female in town. Had to be a reason for that.

The corner of your mouth twitches, so you definitely noticed that you had an audience of one by now. It would be rude not to go over to say hello, right? Right? So Eddie starts moving, unsteady on his feet all of a sudden, like he had forgotten how to walk simply because he was in the presence of such beauty.

“Hi,” he croaks out and he raises his hand in greeting. “Pretty hot outside, huh.” He mentally slaps himself for saying that, because why on Earth had he decided to state the obvious? Guess that meant that trying to act cool had gone straight out the window. His remark makes you snort though, which he supposes is a win of sorts. “Anyway. Hi.”

“Hi,” you say with a grin, doing your best not to laugh, as you look up for a few seconds before focusing all your attention back on the game. “Don’t see you round here a lot.”

“Not much of a gamer,” Eddie admits, which technically wasn’t true, but he didn’t think that he had to clarify that he was talking about video games. You would have seen him around the arcade a lot more if he was into those.

“So why’re you here then?”

“Thought I’d check the place out. Henderson’s always talking about it.”

“Ah, Henderson,” you sigh and there’s a hint of exhaustion there that almost makes him laugh. “And that’s enough to get you to show up?”

“Maybe not just that.” His eyes skate over the curve of your ass and when he looks back at your face again, he can see that your eyebrows are raised. Subtlety had never been his strong point. “Busted,” he chuckles.

“Hm,” is all that he gets out of you before you look back at the screen once more.

Eddie tries his best to feign an interest in the game that you’re playing, Bubble Bobble, by trying to keep his eyes peeled on the screen. Even thinks about commenting on the cuteness of the green dinosaur that’s blowing bubbles at his enemies, but he doesn’t out of fear of looking like a complete fool. He actually opens his mouth once with the intention of commenting on how well you’re playing, but what the hell is he supposed to say?

‘Good game, hot stuff, but do you wanna get out of here and play a real game in the back of my van instead?’

Bad idea. Really bad idea. He’d prefer it if his nuts didn’t meet the boot of your skates. That would be a horrible ending to what was turning out to be a pretty good day so far. He’d like to end it on a high if he could, preferably with your phone number scribbled on a piece of paper in his pocket.

Damn, this was easier when he could hide behind his usual bravado, but he’d already fucked that one up from the moment that he started talking to you. Hell, he couldn’t even hide behind his hair, because it was in a messy ponytail right now.

Still, you haven’t told him to fuck off just yet so it wasn’t a complete disaster. He leans back against the side of the machine next to yours and he really looks at you this time.

God damn, he had always thought that you were pretty, but fuck, you looked good enough to eat right now. He catches the glint of a bead of sweat as it rolls down your neck, following it as it makes its way down your skin and ultimately disappears into the fabric of your bikini top.

Eddie can almost taste the salt on his tongue if he thinks about it hard enough.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Your voice cuts through the first wisps of the daydream that was forming in the back of his mind, one that already had his cock twitching in his pants, seconds away from begging him to excuse himself so he could jerk off in his van.

“I would if I had a camera,” he bites back.

You shake your head and sigh and a couple of seconds later the game makes a noise, something that even a newbie like him knew wasn’t good. As if to emphasize this, the words “game over” appear on the black screen.

“Thought you were good.”

“My heart wasn’t in it,” you say while the screen starts flashing the ‘insert coin’ message on the screen in an attempt to lure in new players. “It’s this damn heat.”

“Maybe you don’t do well with an audience.”

“You’re shitting me, right? You know how many times I have those little shitheads breathing down my neck?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs. “A lot?”

“Yup. I barely get any alone time as it is.”

There’s a sudden flush of guilt and he can feel his cheeks burn as they begin to color a dark shade of pink. He’s bothering you. You never said it, but that's what he reads between the lines.

“You want me to leave?” He’s already turning away from you, instantly apologetic, so he’s surprised when he feels your fingers touch his wrist.

“Did I say that?” He’s watching your hand, noticing the gentle pull on his arm which doesn’t stop until he makes no move to leave anymore. “Did I?”

Since you repeat yourself, you’re obviously expecting an answer. The only problem is that the heat combined with your touch are kind of short circuiting his brain.

Eddie eventually manages to get out a small “No?” which he considers a victory. At least it shows that he’s still capable of speech, if only a little.

“No,” you repeat after him and he’s instantly relaxed when he finds that his presence does seem to be wanted after all. He can’t stop his expression from falling a little when your hand lets go of his arm. “But you say you’re not a gamer. Maybe you just haven’t found one that you like yet.”

“Sweetheart, I haven’t been in here for years,” he says with a casual wave of his hand. “The flashing lights are about to give me an epileptic fit.”

“Was that a joke?”

“Yeah?”

“That was so funny I forgot to laugh,” you deadpan.

The flat tone of your voice makes him snort as well as make him wonder why he has never tried talking to you before.

He supposes that it was a form of thinly veiled jealousy over the kids liking you so much. But who cares about them? And why is he thinking about them so much anyway? Being in the presence of a hot girl combined with the stifling heat was really doing a number on his brain, that was for s-

You clap your hands together in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts for the second time since he was with you.

“Anyway!” you exclaim and clear your throat before continuing. “There’s a couple of old games in the back. Maybe you’d even recognise some of them, oldtimer. Want me to show you?”

“Which ones?”

“Pong, Death Race, Space Invaders, Asteroids… ring a bell?”

“Always was quite partial to Death Race actually.”

“Figures,” you grin. “Come on then,” you say as you push yourself away from the cabinet and start leading the way.

Eddie lets you take the lead, because it means that he can walk behind you and his eyes drop down immediately, unashamedly ogling your ass as you glide through the arcade.

On your way to the back, he hears the crinkling of plastic and watches you remove the orange wrapper from a lollipop before it disappears into your mouth. He swallows hard when your jaw moves, your cheek bulging as you keep moving the candy from side to side. He’s practically salivating as he tries very hard not to let his mind come up with images of how your cheeks would look if there was something else in your-

“There she is,” you break through his reverie again and he briefly wonders if it’s intentional, if you have some kind of inbuilt radar that alerts you whenever a guy is about to have some very impure thoughts in your vicinity. “Death Race.”

You point out the black cabinet at the end of the row of machines, the two steering wheels making it instantly recognisable. You come to a standstill right next to it and wave your hand over the front of it, like some bikini babe that they sometimes use to advertise cars.

“Goddamn,” he whistles in wonder. “Didn’t know they still had this one.”

“They do,” you reply as you stand to his left. “Don’t think they ever get rid of a game if it’s still working.” You dig around in your pocket and hold out a quarter to him. “Here. First game’s on me.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Eddie takes the quarter from your fingers and puts it in the slot. “I’ll try to make it last.”

Unfortunately it doesn’t last that long. Sadly, he’s a little bit rusty. Not that he was any good when he still came here, but he finds himself wanting to impress you as much as he can.

Eddie’s on his fourth quarter when there’s an almost sickening crunch from your direction. Eddie looks up from the screen to see you chewing on the hard candy of your lollipop and he catches you tossing the stick in a garbage bin behind you. He wants to say something, but the words die on his tongue when your hand suddenly connects with his chest and he’s pushed back against the wall.

“Hey, wh-”

-at the hell.

The rest of the sentence comes out all muffled, because your lips crash into his hard. There’s barely time to close his mouth and you enthusiastically take advantage of that by licking into his mouth, your tongue connecting with his, and he can taste nothing but oranges. When he starts kissing you back, he can taste the same artificial nectarine flavor in your lip gloss.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you in closer and you sigh when his hands start rubbing up and down your back. You even giggle when one hand dips down lower and grabs your ass cheek.

There’s no opposition from him when you push him to the side, in between the opening between the black cabinet and the wall, one that the both of you fit into neatly, effectively shielding you and him from the view of others just enough.

Not that there was anyone else there apart from the bored employee that was still sitting outside and even he wouldn’t be able to see what the pair of you are doing from where he’s sitting.

“Aren’t-“ You pull away just far enough so Eddie can look in your eyes for a split second, see how blown out your pupils are, and then you dip your head down so you can drag your lips over his neck. “Aren’t you scared that anyone might see us?”

“No.” Your reply comes far too quickly and your teeth graze his Adam's apple slightly. “Why?”

“Wh- are you serious?”

“Mhm,” you hum against his skin. He gasps when you suck on his neck hard enough to leave a mark. “So sensitive.”

“Fuck.” At least Eddie can sort of peer into the space behind you now. He catches no movement whatsoever. And it’s not as if the arcade is rigged up with security cameras either. You stick your hands underneath his shirt, your fingers finding his nipples with ease and pinching them. “Damn, sweetheart.”

“What?” You look up at him, batting your eyelids almost too innocently, and when he doesn’t reply, you lick a stripe from the dip in his collarbone all the way up to his ear. “Cute,” you say directly into his ear before you gently tug on his lobe with your teeth. “You’re cute.”

Your intent couldn’t be more clear however. You wanted him and you were laying it on so thick that it was hard to ignore. It was all in the hungry way that you kissed him, filled with lust and longing, full of heat and desire.

Even though there shouldn’t be any mistaking your intentions, Eddie still wonders when it would be acceptable to invite you into his van. If he does it too early, you might smack him for being a perv, but if he does it too late, you might mistake it for disinterest, which would be a million miles off from what he wants. If only he had talked to you before, he would know what you were like a bit more, but all he has to go on are stories from Henderson and a handful of rumors.

There’s an unexpected brush of your fingers over the front of his jeans and it’s so light that he mistakes it for being accidental at first, but when it happens again and then again, it becomes a bit more difficult to ignore.

“Oh?” The triumphant tone in your voice is impossible to miss, because now you know that he was already half hard before and that was definitely because of you. “Thought that you had a couple of rolls of quarters in your pocket, but I think I was wrong.”

“You use that line a lot?”

The words came out too easily after all so naturally he’s curious, maybe even a little jealous, but he would never admit to that.

“Please,” you chuckle, “you think so little of me?”

“I don’t know. Don’t know you that well. Unfortunately.”

“You could get to know me. If you want to.”

“Hmmm. Tough question. Let me think about it.”

Eddie meant it as a joke, obviously, but he doesn’t miss how your brows furrow and how your hand stops moving, even if you can’t seem to stop your fingernails from scratching at the fabric.

His hips end up chasing your hand when you pull it away.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Eddie blinks, suddenly confused. “Is that a trick question?”

“Nope, just an honest one.”

“No.” It’s his turn to answer quickly now. And Christ, he feels like such a fucking dickhead for giving you the impression that he might not want this. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Good,” you reply with a grin that’s bordering on feral, “because I really didn’t want to.”

“Then wh-?” He cuts off his sentence because your hand is back on his crotch again. You touch him with more intent now and he wonders if you can feel his dick twitching through the thick fabric. “Fuck.”

“Cause you looked a bit uncomfortable for a couple of seconds there. Figured that it was because of me.”

“It wasn’t, sweetheart. Trust me. Just never had a pretty girl seconds away from making me come in my pants like a schoolboy in a public place before.”

“Hmmm. I can think of something a lot better than that.” His eyes widen when you drop down onto your knees and start undoing his belt. “All you need to do is stay quiet.” A strangled kind of noise comes out of his mouth and it makes you grin even wider. “Think you can do that?”

“I’ll fucking try,” he squeaks out when you pull his pants down roughly to expose his underwear and his pale thighs. “I’ll really fucking try.”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that.” Your hand rubs over the front of his boxers and he groans low in his throat. “No louder than that, okay?” You pull the last cloth barrier down, unveiling his cock and it proudly stands at attention. “Oh god,” you say, obviously impressed, “prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh yeah?” You lick at the glistening bead of precum on the tip and your eyes close briefly as you taste him. The noise you make is exaggerated, but fuck, who cares? “Like it that much?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer as the tip of your tongue starts following the trail of a prominent vein on the side of his shaft, chasing it all the way down to the base and then back up again. “I do.”

Eddie lets out a sigh when you finally wrap your lips around his cock and let him slip halfway into your mouth. You sit there, looking all pretty, your eyes on his, and he already knows that he won’t be able to get this image out of his head for as long as he lives.

You bob down a bit further, a mere inch at most, and then release him with a soft pop. You spit on your palm, circle your fingers around the shaft, and start working him with your hand.

Ducking your head, you sink your teeth into his pale thigh and then lick the already slightly reddening mark. You repeat this a few more times, much to Eddie’s amusement. The slight sting of your bites in combination with the movement of your hand are pushing him ever closer to the edge.

Having teased him enough, you take his dick into your mouth again and he briefly wonders if you would have still done this if the place had been a bit more crowded. Not that he thinks that the sound of screaming kids would have done anything to kill his boner. If anything, the sheer thought of there being a greater possibility of getting caught only turns him on more.

When you cup his balls and start massaging them, Eddie hisses through his teeth. Fuck, he really wasn’t gonna last long. He also had no idea how he was supposed to stay quiet. He didn’t consider himself particularly noisy (he was), but he liked talking and there was no way that he would be able to control the volume of his voice.

Not when you kept eagerly sucking him off and especially not when you were pairing it with a look that was practically spelling out how much you loved having his dick in your mouth.

You also look like you want him to crack, like you desperately want him to make noises that are way too loud, like you want to get caught giving him head in the back of the arcade.

“Shit,” he groans as softly as he can and he can feel the corners of your mouth twitch upwards into a smile. “Can’t help it,” he says, softer now. “Feels too fucking good.”

Humming around his length, you hollow out your cheeks and when your hands lightly grasp the back of his thighs so your fingertips can dance up and down his skin, he shudders.

Saliva was bubbling at the corners of your mouth and fuck, it has to be one of the hottest things that he’s ever seen. His hand instantly moves of its own volition, moving to the back of your head, and he pushes you down for a split second, stopping when your fingernails dig into his skin. He loosens his grip, giving you ample opportunity to pull away, but you don’t and your eyes are almost flashing a challenge to him, practically daring him to do it again.

So he does.

This time he holds you down a little bit longer, forcing you to take him in a little bit deeper and instantly letting go when you make a gagging noise. You stay right where you are, his dick halfway in your mouth, eyes still a little defiant, so he does it again, harder, and forcing his cock in deeper still. The discomfort is plain to see and when your fingernails drag down the back of his thighs harshly, he can feel it, too, but your grip on his legs relaxes soon enough. He scratches your scalp affectionately.

Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears, threatening to overflow, and his hand releases you so he can wipe at the corners of one of your eyes, in an attempt to brush your tears away.

“Didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart,” he admits. “You just look so fucking good like that.” You blink once which finally makes the tears spill out. “Good tears though, huh?” You make an affirmative noise even if he already knows the answer. “Good ‘cause I’m seconds away from coming all down that pretty throat of yours.”

He catches a glint in your eye, as if his words spurred you on, but Eddie’s entirely unprepared for what you do next.

Your hands grab his hips and you plunge your mouth all the way down his length until your lips make contact with the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. You gag around him, but you inhale deeply through your nose and manage to stay down for a bit longer.

Your throat muscles contracting around his cock is what pushes him over the edge and he comes in thick spurts down your throat. He bangs the back of his head against the wall behind him, his lips pressed tightly together to stop himself from shouting as he climaxes. His hands are balled to fists at his sides and he slams them against the wall as a form of channeling the pent-up energy that has nowhere else to go.

It takes him a short while to come back to his senses and his hands shake when he relaxes his grip. When he hazards a glance down, you’re still on your knees, his now soft cock still in your hands as you’re lazily licking up and down his shaft.

Reaching for your face, he touches the corner of your mouth and mumbles the words, “Show me.” You stick your tongue out obediently, showing him that there’s not a single drop of his cum left. “Good girl.”

Exhaling shakily, he manages to say, “up,” a couple of times, his fingers hooking under your chin and pulling in an effort to make you move faster. As soon as you’re on your feet, his lips crash into yours, his tongue invading your mouth until he can taste himself on your tongue.

His hands are everywhere. On your ass, your hips, your tits. He simply doesn’t know what to grab first, and it’s not like you seem to care either with how content your sighs are.

Changing positions, he pushes you up against the wall and hurriedly pulls his boxers and shorts back up. Your hands take over to zip him back up this time, leaving his hands free to pull the cups of your bikini top to the sides and burying his face between your tits.

“Like that,” you breathe out when his lips finally find one of your nipples. “Just like that.”

“So sensitive,” he remarks with a grin, positively delighted that he can throw your earlier words right back at you this time. “I wonder…” He trails off and brushes a hand down your stomach, light as a feather, until his fingers come to a stop at the waistband of your shorts. “May I?”

You’re nodding before he even manages to get the words out, betraying your eagerness and perhaps your impatience. So naturally that makes Eddie move slower than he would have, taking his time to undo the bow that keeps the drawstring of your shorts tied together, and even when that’s undone, he slides his digits underneath the fabric painstakingly slowly.

“Eddieeeee,” you whine, “stop teasing.”

“Who’s teasing?”

“You are,” you pout. “Not like we have all day.”

“We don’t?” You’re ready to say more, he can tell, but he knows you’re right. And he doesn’t know what you’ll do if he keeps teasing, so he slips his fingers into your panties and slides them between your folds. “Jesus, baby, you’re soaked.”

“Mhm,” you bite your lower lip and nod.

“You got this wet just from having my dick in your mouth?” You moan affirmatively. “Poor thing. Seems only right that I help you out then, right?” One of his fingers probes your entrance, not quite pressing inside yet. Not until you answer him. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you whimper. “N-need to feel your fingers inside me.”

“Come on,” he husks against your cheek, “spread your legs a little wider.” You give him some more space to work with and he slides the digit in with ease. “Good girl.”

Your head drops forward onto his shoulder, your mouth almost level with his ear so he can hear every shaky breath and strangled moan. It makes him add another finger, plunging them deeper inside and curling them upward until he hits your sweet spot. Your walls spasm and contract around his fingers, trying to keep them there.

“Really want to get my mouth on you, sweetheart,” he husks against your temple.

“No time,” you answer. “R-raincheck?”

“You’d better,” he chuckles. He just knew that he’d be taking you up on that offer before the end of the day.

Fuck, if he had his way, he’d be on his knees in front of you right now. Your ass pushed up against the controls of the Pong machine, his head buried between your thighs, until you’re screaming so loud that it drowns out every other fucking sound in this place.

If only he’d asked you to come with him, he’d have had his wish.

His thumb finds your swollen and neglected clit with ease. His touch sends a shockwave through you which makes your whole body jolt. You grab at his shoulders, his name on your lips as your fingernails leave crescent shaped marks in the sections of his skin which aren’t covered by his shirt.

Your breath hitches and you let out a choked sob, only to have Eddie cut off any other sounds that you might make by pressing his lips against yours and swallowing all your delicious noises, effectively silencing you. Your thighs convulse around his palm, trapping his hand between them.

Reaching upward, you grab at his tied back hair, wrapping the ponytail around your fingers and pulling until your hand, along with all the other muscles in your body, go slack.

“Mmmm.” You sigh against his lips and he pulls away just far enough to see your blissed out features as you float back down to Earth. “Always knew you’d be good with your fingers.”

“You wanted to get caught, didn’t you?” Your face splits into a grin and he shakes his head. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

You open your mouth to speak, but you’re distracted by Eddie sticking his fingers into his mouth and sucking your juices from them. Cupping his cheeks, you lean forward and your lips brush together when a loud scream suddenly cuts through the relative silence. Startled, it makes your eyes snap open, but you visibly relax when it dawns on you that the noise isn’t anywhere near where the two of you are.

“I wanna play that one,” an underage voice shouts and it’s answered by a decidedly more bored adult voice. “Come on!” The child sounds impatient and is probably dragging the adult behind him in the direction of the game of his choice.

“Shame that,” you say as you adjust your top, covering your chest up once more. You move away from him and he hates the fact that there’s space between you now. “I totally would have let you fuck me as I played the pinball machines.”

“I have a van,” he replies, helpful and hopeful at the same time.

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You stick a hand in your pocket and he thinks he can hear you jingle some coins. “Still got some quarters left so you’re shit out of luck.”

“You’re just going to play a couple more games after that?“

“Uh, yeah? I never leave until I’m all out of quarters. Sorry.” Eddie’s expression falls, but his smile returns when you press your lips against his cheek and whisper in his ear, “Can’t you wait a little bit longer like a good boy? Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You give his lips a quick peck and wink. “If you think I’m going to end this day without having your dick inside me then you’re an idiot.”

Someone clears their throat loudly behind you and when you turn, you see what you can only assume is the owner of the bored adult voice earlier.

“There are kids in here, you know,” the man huffs.

“I don’t see any,” you say as you flip him off. “Or are you talking about yourself?” You grab Eddie’s hand and pull him along with you. “Come on, babe. Let’s leave these games for the kids, huh? We both got what we wanted. For now.”

The implication of what you’d done there hangs in the air as Eddie lets you lead him past the man and he barks out a laugh when he sees the furious, and dare he say frustrated, expression on his face.

Fully expecting to leave, he can’t hide his disappointment when you come to a standstill in front of a machine, Q*bert, and take a coin out of your pocket, obviously intending to still stick to your rule of not leaving until you had no coins left.

“You’re still going to- Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head as you put a quarter in the slot and start playing. “I’ll just get comfortable here then, shall I?”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, “just stand there and look pretty. Maybe it’ll help.”

“Okay, I can do that.” He folds his arms and leans against the cabinet next to yours, very much mirroring the stance that he had taken earlier. “But seriously, just one game and then I’m dragging you out of here.”

“Fiiiiine. One game,” you say with a loud groan that didn’t sound anywhere near convincing enough. “But you’d better settle in, pretty boy, because I can make these games last a lifetime if I have to.”

“Did you just call me out over not being good at playing video games? Seriously?” Amusement was dripping off his voice, because he honestly didn’t care that he was no good at any of the games here. But he could have sworn that you had just issued him a challenge and he had every intention of winning that. “Honey, I can last real long when I’m doing other things.”

“Sure.” If you were trying to come across as unimpressed, it wasn’t that successful. You looked more curious than anything else. You shrugged, a bit noncommittally, and threw in a, “They all say that.” 

“I actually do though.” Eddie took a step closer and he could see your fingers tightening around the joystick, fully prepared to try your damndest not to let him distract you. One more step and he’s so close now that his lips are a couple of inches away from your ear. He clears his throat and chuckles when you jump ever so slightly. “Baby, I’m genuinely not boasting when I say that I could be down there for hours and I don’t think that I need to elaborate on that now, do I?”

You release the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding, close your eyes for a fraction of a second, and then the telltale “game over” tune starts playing.

“Fuck.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, did you just lose? I was really looking forward to seeing you play as well, but… a deal’s a deal.” Before you could protest (which you wouldn’t dream of doing), Eddie grabs your hand and makes good on his promise of dragging you out of the arcade. “I just really want to show you what I can do now. Promise you won’t be disappointed…”

And here's the picture that partially inspired this one...

[bp-zb1fics]

A little crazy

pairing: overprotective bf shanbin x s/o reader

genre: university au on unhingedness (same verse as perils, and no, it's not lasik), fluff

tw/tags: established relationship, some stereotypical characters, hanbin has a few quirks, character study lowkey, unwanted flirting, unintentional flirting, pet names, intimidation, he's sweet but a psycho, drinking, getting a lil tipsy, lowkey stalker vibes but not really, for plot purposes we will find it cute, threatening, idk how to tag this pls tell me if i missed something

wc: 2078

summary: your boyfriend is legitimately the sweetest person ever…except when someone tries to make moves on you. Then he gets…well…

a/n my advanced birthday fic for hanbin! Bc idk why I thought it was today I must have hallucinated but also idk if I have time to post on the actual day bc of real life commitments lmao whoops I struggle and try my best. Shout out to Kara aka @boysplanetmorelike for sparking this lil idea~

Check my pinned for more fics~

It’s not like he was perfect, even if people liked to think he was. Well, yes he is very boyfriend. That’s why he’s your boyfriend.

You, of all people, can attest to the fact he isn’t perfect. You’ve seen his hair in the morning. He’s definitely not at his prettiest. Sometimes he becomes a little control freak. You know that. You’re the one who they call to get him before he makes one of the poor freshmen cry unintentionally and then ends up feeling guilty about it and apologising profusely for the rest of the day, your poor soft-hearted man. And some might argue that yes he has his little ticks but they’re only minor character flaws if they can be considered flaws at all.

If only they knew.

Those who have had the pleasure of getting to know Sung Hanbin on a more, well, personal level are probably the only ones who will ever know. Poor souls, really.

And perhaps it isn’t as effective to explain as it is to show what exactly one of his more problematic personality issues is. Let’s take one unsuspecting, innocent afternoon.

Perspective. You’ve just finished class. It’s a pleasant day. You decide to meet at one of the benches under the trees outside your building. His class finishes a bit after yours so you wait, scrolling through your phone, peaceful, unbothered.

Enter unfortunate victim. For the purpose of this exercise, he shall remain unnamed. We’ll call him Victim #444. Or well, that guy.

He’s your typical fuckboy. Good looking in a sort of lukewarm way, hugely overconfident, probably thinks he has a bigger dick than he actually does, a horrible flirt, we’ve all met that type.

You share a class together. That’s how he makes conversation. Otherwise, he might not dare to approach at that time. Your talk goes something like this.

“Hey, you’re in Choi-seongsaengnim’s class too right?”

“Yeah?” You look up from your phone and he’s just there. He takes a seat on the same bench without asking. Well, it’s public property but he’s a little closer than you would like.

“He’s such a hardass, don’t you think? Like sure, he knows the lesson but he doesn’t need to act like this is the only class we’re taking.”

“Well, I mean-”

“-Like seongsaengnim, come on, I have a life outside of trying to figure out what the fuck your lessons mean.” You can add self-absorbed and stupid to this one’s list of notable traits.

“I think-” And definitely not letting you get a word in.

“Speaking of, have you got a partner for the latest project? Because, you know, I’ve been asked but I’m happy to make an exception if you want to pair up.”

“Actually, I already have-”

“Let me give you my number so we can contact each other? Maybe meet up, you know? I’ve got a nice little place to myself on the other side of campus.”

Ugh, as if. He’s leaning in so close that you can smell his cheap cologne. Before you can get up from the bench, arms wrap around you from the back and a very familiar voice coos in your ear.

“Ahh nae sarang, sorry I’m late.”

You turn your head, leaning into him.

“Hi Binnie-yah.”

He beams at you before directing his stare at the other guy. And so it begins.

“Oh, who’s this?”

You’re pretty sure Hanbin knew who this was. He knew who everyone was and at least one notable thing about them because he was quirky like that. Well, he wasn’t known as the university’s social butterfly for nothing. And you don’t want to spoil his fun so you let the guy introduce himself.

“Ah, you’re taking that major, yeah? So Junho-yah is your senior, how is he these days?”

“Oh, ah yes, Junho-sunbaenim’s been doing well, I don’t really see him around much actually.”

And bingo. The guy starts squirming. Faster than it usually takes. Your boyfriend’s made himself comfortable even though he’s half-hunched over and resting his chin on your shoulder, looking at the other guy with an unwavering stare. Sort of the way a spider would probably look at a fly before, well, you know.

“Really, well last I heard from him, he was complaining about how disrespectful his underclassmen are…but you’re not like that, aren’t you?”

“Ah, no, of course not sunbaenim.”

You can feel Hanbin’s smile get wider, his eyes crinkling in a way that you find adorable but you suspect might not be as cute for your unfortunate companion.

“That’s good, keep up the good work. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if any of my underclassmen were being disrespectful. Ah well, actually I can….”

He pauses and you swear that the guy stops breathing.

“...and I can definitely say that they’ll be very sorry that they even tried that with me.” Hanbin continues cheerily.

Suddenly he walks over and starts patting him on the shoulder. The guy flinches back.

“So next time, remember to be on your best behaviour and keep being polite, hmm? Don’t be so obvious? Maybe try not to be so shameless, yeah?”

“Ah, yes, of course, sunbaenim. Actually I- I just remembered I- I have to go- ah- sorry to disturb um- excuse me-”

You watch as he does a roughly 90 degree bow to both of you before walking off quickly.

“Less than 5 minutes, Binnie, that’s a new record.”

And your cute boyfriend is back, pouting and grabbing at your hands and squeezing them softly. If you were anyone else, you would have gotten whiplash.

“It’s not my fault if I want you all to myself, hmmm?”

Did you mention that your boyfriend was a little off in the head? Not in the should-be-confined-to-the-mental-hospital way but that slight sort of insanity that possesses him when someone tries to go for his little brother (rip Gunwook) or his little sister or his close friends or well, you.

And everyone else? Everyone else was not safe. If murder was legal, literally everyone else would probably be fearing for their lives. Which is probably a good thing that murder isn’t legal. Those incredibly lucky bastards.

Take one of the freshmen trying to chat you up during a party. They’ve been incredibly nice all evening, pouring you drinks and asking you all sorts of thoughtful questions about the major. So yes, you’re very happy to answer and give them little tips on how to ace a certain project.

“And it’s honestly fine if you mess up a little on your first test for Hwang-seongsaengnim’s class, he’s very nice when it comes to students forgetting a few names so don’t stress too much about it and make sure to ace the extra credit he gives.”

“Oh, thank you so much sunbaenim. That’s so helpful, I’ll definitely try my best.”

You can’t help but smile. So cute. Maybe it was the alcohol but you remember how it was like being a wide-eyed, overeager freshman listening attentively to your own seniors.

“It’s really no problem. Ask me anything, anytime. Seriously, don’t be afraid if you need advice.”

You reach over to pat them, swaying just a little from the amount of soju running through your body. They’re awfully red as well. You wonder why.

“How are you getting home, sunbaenim? Do you live nearby? I can walk with you if you’re comfortable with that, I don’t think it’s too safe to be out at this time.”

“Oh it’s no worries, I’ll be taking them home.”

“Ah Hanbinnie, meet my new dongsaeng” you’re not too sure when he got here or even why he’s here but Hanbin’s incredibly warm and his hands around your waist feel so nice. 

“This is my boyfriend.” You introduce him to the freshman. He dips his head in greeting as the other nearly tips over trying to bow. You make a concerned noise, making to catch the other but Hanbin firmly keeps you from moving, letting the freshman catch themselves instead.

“So nice to meet you, we’ll get going if that’s alright. It’s really not safe to be out this late, especially with someone you barely know.” You hardly register your boyfriend’s words but you’re not that drunk that you don’t know the smile he’s giving is about 95% fake and razor-sharp.

“Ah yes, get home safely, sunbaenim. I’ll find my way back so don’t worry.”

“Oh we won’t” You think you hear Hanbin say. Maybe. Could be your imagination. Because the next moment he’s nuzzling at your neck like a very spoiled cat, arms firmly holding you up as he guides you out of the bar and into the car.

“Nae sarang, you really need to take better care of yourself or I won’t want to let you out of my sight.” He says to you softly as he practically carries you into the passenger seat. It’s sweet, well the implication behind it is kinda creepy but you know he doesn’t mean it that way. (Does he?)

“You drove here?”

“Of course, I can’t let you go home all by yourself, can I?”

Like you said, there’s just a tiny screw loose in that head of his, considering the bar where you’re drinking is over an hour away from campus. You chalk it up to it being Hanbin. He can get a little paranoid on occasion. 

And sometimes, he goes a bit psycho. A little. Not a lot. Still, according to Gunwook, it’s terrifying. You really wouldn’t know but you’ve seen it.

You’ve come to wait for his dance club to finish when someone collides into you. It’s not too hard but it still knocks you off your feet and onto the ground with a thud.

“Yah, watch where you’re going, huh? I have a performance next week and I could have injured myself.”

It’s definitely one of the newer members because you don’t recognise them. Before you can say anything, Seo Won, one of the veterans, is already helping you up and asking if you’re okay. The one that knocked you over huffs and is about to say something else when Hanbin calls their name sharply.

Your boyfriend’s eyes narrow and maybe you’re a little lightheaded from the fall but also from the way his shirt clings to his body and his hair weighed down by sweat. It’s kinda hot but you’re not admitting that out loud. Not now, at least. He calls the other member’s name again and gestures him over.

He speaks too quietly for you to hear anything. All you know is that the other’s face pales drastically and he bows several times, walking over and apologising to you before practically hightailing out of the room.

Hanbin’s all over you in a matter of seconds, practically lifting you off the ground. It’s not good for your heart. Seo Won quickly backs off.

“My poor sarang, are you okay? Do you need anything? Ice? Are you bruised anywhere? Let me check.”

You don’t ever see the person who knocked you over again. Ever. You’d wonder about it but you’ve learned that it was better not to question sometimes. Especially when Hanbin insists on carrying you around for the rest of the day and practically waits on you hand and foot until the bruises fade. And it’s just a bruise. You do admit to him later that maybe you find it attractive when he’s a shade pissed and sweaty. Maybe you both get a little sweaty after that. And later, when you’re rightfully tired and sprawled out on top of him, you think about it.

Really, you wonder what goes through his mind sometimes.

[cut scene]

Hanbin smiles, all teeth and no sympathy. It’s like the serial killer before the murder.

“You speak to anyone like that ever again and I can do injuring for you, understood? No, don’t talk, just nod if you’ve managed to get it into that head of yours, hmm?”

A nod. Hanbin likes it when they’re like this. Quiet and white-faced and sweating nervously.

“Now go apologise to them. Sincerely. Like you mean it. And then, get lost. I don’t want to see your face for awhile, yes?”

Another nod. They take one step back and make to turn around.

“Oh wait.”

They freeze.

“Remember. Sincerely, okay? And don’t think I won’t know if it isn’t.”

A final nod.

“Very good. Now go.”

They go. Hanbin sighs. God, you’re going to drive him insane one day. (He already is)

[gallus-rising]

mp100 horror fic recs 👻🎃

For a while now I've been thinking about mp100's amazing horror potential and how it really doesn't get enough attention. SO! For the spooky season why don't you settle down with a nice scary story ;D

All of these fics are complete and have no shipping. I've only linked 1 fic per author so this list doesn't get bloated, but all of these wonderful authors have other fics just waiting for you to read them ❤ Some definitely freaked me out more than others, but I'm not gonna give any particular ratings since "scary" is so subjective. All fics are properly tagged and you know your own limits better than I do.

Also feel free to add on your own recs!! My general reading preferences and parameters when making this list is only a small sampling, so please share any and all of your favs ❤ Hope you enjoy!

If you see an "N/A" instead of a Tumblr UN that means there wasn't one linked in either the fics' notes or author's bio. If you know the author or are the author yourself feel free to let me know so I can edit the post :] And now in no particular order I present:

The Immeasurable Dark: @tinkertoysdamn Immediately breaking my own "no ships" rule just this once because I can't resist a good House of Leaves inspired story! If you've read HoL is you know what's up. If not expect a fucked-up house and impossibly large spaces, funky text formatting and footnotes, maybe a minotaur. Ship featured is background established serirei.

a pilgrimage: @tooomuchtofu Divine Tree arc bad ending. Told from the PoV of an unnamed worshiper on their first visit to "the capital" aka an overgrown Seasoning City. Uses second person pov wonderfully to build the dread.

And Who Is Killing Me?: @sammisafetypin Koyama beats the shit outta Mob a little harder than in canon, hospitalizing him and delaying the 7th Division rescue arc by [TIME NOT FOUND]. The Awakening Lab kids are so minor I tend to forget they even exist, but oh my god does this author make you care about them! This fic is written with great suddenly swapping PoVs that keep you feeling off kilter without making you lose track of the story. It's the longest fic on this list by far but 100% worth every second of it. A real gut punch.

Adoration: (N/A) The Divine Tree takes a particular interest in Reigen. I don't think I've ever seen anyone properly touch on how creepy the Psycho Helm constructs themselves are like this fic has. God, those things freak me out so much. Features "shipping" in the sense of a sentient broccoli becoming fixated on a guy. Keep in mind that the Psycho Helms look like Mob if you think that'll squick you out, but for me personally it added to the horror.

Similarities: (N/A) Reigen receives a fucked up email. Ends on the sillier side, but BOY is that email fucked up!

The Water Ran Clean: @bandtrees A Mogami-mentors-Mob AU and a damn fine one at that. Love the sort of fragmented style it's written in, and the exploration of Mogami's fucked up moral code is great. There's some Choice viscerally described imagery here 👌👌 Features a drawing of Mob covered in blood just in case that freaks you out; but worry, it's not his :]

An Outlier Among a Sea of Common Denominators: @hebezunet A rewrite of the early Divine Tree arc that asks the question we've all been too scared to consider: What if the brainwashing was like cordyceps? In particular I want to highlight the opening scene where after eating the broccoli powder cookies Teru has to physically rip florets out of his body to resist being brainwashed. Very gnarly stuff.

Prison Surveillance: (N/A) Touichirou was a very bad boss so Hatori pulls a The Ring to torment him in Psychic Supermax Prison. Was written pre-season 3 so Hatori doesn't work for the government.

Stairs: (N/A) Reigen and Mob have a job in the woods. There are some stairs. Inspired by an r/nosleep story which the author links to if you'd like to check that out as well.

Fight, Flight, or Fraud: @cowardlybean So everyone's got a really specific supernatural fear, right? Something that could absolutely never happen in real life but when you see it in media it freaks you the fuck out? Mine is someone I know being killed and replaced by an evil doppelganger and I'm the only one who knows. I've not seen anything since The Magnus Archives that's properly captured that fear like this fic, which is some of the highest praise I can bestow.

In Quicksand: @ghoststrawberries Reigen catches a nasty cold and by that I mean he gets possessed. Very fun the way Reigen's train of thought and feeling shifts around as the evil spirit tries to influence him while he's unconsciously resisting it. The scene where the gang realizes Reigen's been possessed is a real "OOOOOH, SHIT!!!" moment, but I won't spoil ;D

Playing Human: (N/A) Espers and psychic powers might not be real but spirits are. Poor baby Mob is a ghost possessing his own dead body. Features Dimple as the bad guy.

Mithridatism: If I may be so self-indulgent to list one of my own fics here :3 Absorbing evil spirits while still alive was actively killing Mogami and I wanted to dig into that! Features my Signature™ (lol) "HEY, DON'T EAT THAT!!" style of body horror.

[thesoulspulse]

Nowhere To Run/Turning Point Cast

Since the main focus of these two stories are Danny, Vlad, Dan, Valerie, and Dani there aren't many oc's in them. But I'll share them anyway because its one of my best fanfics so far, which is ironic since I originally kinda just wrote it on a whim to take a break from Owen's story and then it became something a lot more profound. Especially since writing it helped get me through a difficult time in my personal life after my stepdad passed away. Anyways, lets move onto the happier stuff shall we?

Nowhere To Run: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12861681/1/Nowhere-To-Run

Turning Point (Nowhere To Run Sequel): https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13603725/1/Turning-Point

Evelina Petrov (Nowhere To Run): This is Evelina Petrov, the ghost of a russian noblewoman turned fashion designer who spends her time hidden among normal humans in disguise. She is one of the few ghosts Vlad trusts/considers a friend who tailors his suits and designed the outfit he wears in his ghost form.

Shade Striker (Nowhere To Run): My best friend came up with the name for this ghost creature who doesn't generate its own ecto-energy so it absorbs it through biting or scratching its victims. Whenever it has too much ecto-energy stored in its body it'll break off the excess crystals on its body that can be used by others as a sort of ghostly battery to recharge with. That's why they were hunted nearly to extinction in the Ghost Zone.

Shavi and Prizrak (Nowhere To Run): These two aren't really characters persay but I like how they turned out despite there not being too many references to normal horses in the original show. Shavi is the black one and Prizrak is the white one, Danny and Vlad rode them during a brief vacation they took to Ireland. I just think they're gorgeous horses.

Whisper (Turning Point): After a misunderstanding when one of her Wisps wandered into Vlad's castle and started playing with his cat Maddie, they track down Whisper herself who apologizes on Echo's behalf. The funny part is she floated right over to Vlad too, not knowing who he is, referring to him as a Zoner. Aka a ghost native to the Ghost Zone which she detests because of all the hostility there, preferring to explore the real world with her three Wisps and helping people find lost things or in general whenever she can. Sensing that Danny is still troubled by the aftermath of what happened with Dan, she agrees to stick around for awhile so Danny can make the most of her naturally calming influence.

On top of that, Vlad asks her to use her precognitive powers to find out what's become of Dani since he wants to put the past behind him as well so the two of them can move on from their dark pasts. Unfortunately this triggers Whisper lost memories of her father back when she was alive who only saw her as a tool as well, having to stop using her powers to track down Dani for Vlad. So he decides its not worth the effort and burns the hoodie he had Whisper use to find out her possible location.

Agent Omega (Turning Point): Head of the female division of the GIW (their sector is currently unnamed) Agent Omega leads a team of elite spies and such that the government only assigns tasks to as a last resort because of her famed ruthlessness and cunning. She has been mentioned by name but hasn't made her official appearance yet so all I can tell you about her is that she and Valerie are going to end up very invested in what the other is doing, which is both a bad thing and a good thing because it means the government sees Valerie's potential as a legally licensed ghost hunter but they're a bit late as far as offering her a job now that she knows the truth about Danny and Vlad being half-ghost and saw them risk their lives to protect everyone from Dan, a full ghost fusion of both their ghost halves from an alternate timeline where everyone they loved had died in a cruel freak accident.

[surlifen]

guide to surlis sonas

aka an excuse to Poast Images and drone on because I love to do that!

current main sona I think and closest to a truesona: this otter guy who remains unnamed because all the names that are my name have already been used at this point LMAO

art by nepeteaa and by me! I'd honestly draw him more often if he weren't hard to draw? surli was easy because. Fox. (and Generic Thin whereas my body type is, while still pretty thin, specific in a way that's hard for me to draw) and honestly I enjoy drawing him more oTL.... otters are super hard to stylize cutely + in a way that looks Like Me... surli does not look Like Me teebeehaiche

surli fennec surlifen main sona of the past and still like... kind of me it's complicated

imbages by jilf and vhsdruid

i kinda ended up disconnecting from his Design as a Whole and the alt palette didn't really fix it but nonetheless he's never leaving my possession. it's weird cause my brain can really only connect fully to one character per Thing/Setting as a Sona who is Me so ever since splitting off into otter I don't feel FULLY connected to either the way I once did to surli :( but I am experimenting with having multiple sonas and maybe ill try that thing people do where they also do sonas for different Aspects of themselves so I don't just have an army of Normal Nice Blonds

pokesona: liam

art by me, cicadaghost, me

not much 2 say he is me pokemonned! he's much Smaller Cuter than I am and I really enjoy his simple design + imagining him in the pokemon world :3 like what berries he'd like best and what specific cities/landmarks he hangs out at... hiking in ilex forest and visiting the national park yk

lee: bunny....sona....?

art by me, purrker

he was a bit of an experiment in "CAN I have more than one fursona?" and also "CAN I make a sona who isn't Exactly Like Me?" i've always seen people whose sonas have Supernatural Elements and been like how can you do that. I respect it so much but if EYE am a normal human person how can I connect to something with strange abilities and qualities. and I still couldn't go so far as like... my friend whose sona is an honest to god several stories tall kaiju with a backstory and shit, but lee has supernatural luck and a connection to/control of storms/lightning because that's sick and awesome and cool. and also glows and has cool antlers when he wants. he's not as me as the others but he's there and he's not... NOT me?

fucking... willie dustice, silver city "self-insert" joke guy

unfortunately I DO love his stupid ass. you know how sometimes in a comic or animated show there'll be some obscure reference to one of the creators or someone on the team like as a gag that goes over most people's heads well he's supposed to be that. his appearance is me at my worst (needs haircut + shave) and he has the OP superpower of putting people in pocket dimensions of altered reality he controls entirely but he ONLY uses it to make stupid filler bottle episodes like They All Have To Play Softball or Beach Episode or whatever. represents my oft-abused ability as a creator to Put Those Guys in a Situation. he's not so much a sona (cause if I made a silver city sona it would be genuine not this greasy freak) but he sure is Representative of Me.

horse: horse

i was challenged to make a horsesona. I don't plan to do anything with him but kept him around because I liked his design. someday I might make a more natural horse sona for in case I ever joined some kind of equine rp setting or some shit equivalent but for now my sparklehorse

spinxynsona: coast

art by capricorne, me, me

coasty woasty... made for the nephfei world for the spinxyn closed species. first closed species sona ive ever had and i think hes neat! nephfei is such a well designed world that is really conducive to stories and characters influencing each other's arcs but coast is just some guy he's just there. he just lives there and minds his own business. (he has no gifts or curses so nothing really requiring a Story) but maybe i should get him some Friends at least maybe i can have a sona who has Story OC Friends from other people and still be like yes thats me if i was friends with everybody's ocs

dnd character who was based on me: august

art by me, thembodino

it was suggested since I have a very hard time being In Character (i get so self conscious) that I start with a character similar to myself! so august is incredibly Just Me FR. if i were to go on an adventure i would be bad at it and terrified. his campaign is suspended due to Life but i accidentally, due to knowing nothing, picked a pretty OP blend of stats that has made him bizarrely competent (not like. the best in the party or anything but he really can hold his own and once like critted twice and turned invisible and flew and killed a dragon) and honestly that's hilarious and I like it for him

that's it! the rest of my characters are just characters not sonas though I still love them dearly, some of them even more than some of my sonas i won't name names though ty if you made it this far. i love to Talk

[waywardrose]

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY 24

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated e

5.6k

spotify playlist

for @punk-in-docs​​​

fem/witch/goth!reader, sweetheart!eddie, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, blood, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, break-ups, running away, guns, fist fighting, everyone survives, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird? Weird weird? He shrugged. He liked weird. In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: Idk if the Cali group arrives in Hawkins on Saturday or Sunday. I'm going with Saturday. If that's wrong, well, this fic isn't canon compliant anyway. Also, Unnamed Freak (aka Dave) has a canon name now with Flight of Icarus: Dougie. I've corrected this entire fic on all platforms. If I've missed a "Dave" somewhere, please tell me. 🖤

24

The phone rang, jolting you from your research. On reflex, you stretched across the spread of opened spell books for the phone on the nightstand. Then you remembered you weren’t at home. You sat on the bed in one of Steve’s guestrooms.

When he didn’t ask you to answer the phone, you straightened and found where you’d left off. The ringing ceased, then Steve’s voice drifted through the open door. At one time, it would’ve been an annoyance. Now, it reminded you that you weren’t alone. You had people who knew you for who you were and weren’t wary of your abilities.

Last night, Robin had stayed through dinner and Back to the Future. Working at Family Video had its perks, because there was a waitlist to rent it. Robin and Steve had talked through the entire movie, asking about you and sharing about themselves, but you hadn’t minded. You learned that ‘Scoops’ was Scoops Ahoy, an ice cream parlor. It must be a Midwestern chain, because you’d never heard of it.

Robin bragged Steve had slung so much ice cream, they had to put in special orders. Steve shrugged, all bravado, yet his flushed cheeks belied his cool demeanor.

“You should’ve seen some of the girls who came in,” Robin had said, face reverent. “They must’ve come from Fort Wayne or Indy—”

Eyes wide, Steve had interrupted. “Yeah, they weren’t local, that’s for sure.”

You’d glanced at him, then at Robin. He’d tried to divert the conversation. Maybe to protect her? That had made no sense until you remembered you were in the Midwest, where homosexuality — or even bisexual tendencies — was anathema.

To Robin, you asked with a sly look: “That hot, huh?”

“God, I could barely keep eye con—” She curled her lips between her teeth, but rallied. “I mean, they were, like, super intimidating.”

You grinned with a minute shake of your head.

“No, I get it. Girls are hot.”

“Yeah…” she breathed, eyes going glassy. “Girls are hot.”

The conversation had paused as George confronted Biff on screen. When George and Lorraine walked away together, you’d reached for your drink and glimpsed Steve holding Robin’s hand. He noticed you noticing and opened his mouth to speak. You stopped him with an understanding look.

“So, is there a girl at school you like?” you’d asked before taking a sip.

Robin glanced at Steve, who’d offered an encouraging shrug. She’d smiled, giddy and love-struck, and gushed about Vickie. According to Robin, she looked like Molly Ringwald, but even cuter. Vickie was talented and funny and smart. Steve insisted Vickie was into her despite what they’d seen at The War Zone. Robin waved it away, saying Vickie had a boyfriend. It was a lost cause. She’d pine from afar.

You’d said, “Well, not necessarily. She could be bi.”

“I don’t know? It doesn’t seem likely.” She’d gnawed on her bottom lip. “I would normally say that’s ridiculous, because this is Hawkins, but—” She gestured at herself.

You’d narrowed your eyes playfully.

“You could still win fair maiden’s heart.”

Steve laughed. “You sound like Munson.”

“What can I say? He’s rubbed off on me.”

Robin had snorted. “Yeah, I bet that’s not the only thing he’s done.” You’d giggled even as your face heated. You grinned now thinking about it.

Knuckles rapped on the doorjamb. Steve stood in the doorway, the sleeves of his teal henley pushed up his forearms. His perfectly tousled hair framed his face, his jeans showed off the goods, and his Nikes were clean.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, lookin’ good.”

He put a hand on the back of his head and looked down as if bashful. Like he didn’t know how handsome he was.

You asked, “Going somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah, that was Nance on the phone. She wants to donate some stuff at the school, and I offered her a lift. I think I’m going to volunteer while I’m there, too. You know, whatever they need.”

“That’s…” You first thought ‘surprising,’ but that was insulting. “That’s really generous of you.” You glanced at your suitcase overflowing with clean laundry. “Actually, I bet I have a few things someone else could use.”

“Oh, wow, sure.” He nodded. “You wanna come with?” He waggled a hand. “I mean, I know you’re not ready, but I was going to call Robin and Dustin. See if they wanna join.”

“I want to, but I can’t. I need to heal Lucas and Max.” You gestured to all the opened books. “That’s what I’m researching.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

He pointed at his left eye.

“Wouldn’t everything be a little easier if you had both?”

“Probably, but Max is worse than I am, so…” You looked at the books. “I can manage.”

He surprised you a second time when he said, “It’s hard to take that ‘put your own oxygen mask on first’ advice, but you should consider it.”

You met his earnest eyes.

“I will.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. You should be the guinea pig before you sprung a healing spell on Lucas or Max. While you were certain a healing spell would never harm, that didn’t mean it would be effective.

Marking your place in the book you’d been reading, you eased off the bed. You knelt in front of your suitcase to pick out a few pairs of socks, a free promo t-shirt you wore when cleaning, and a pair of tartan trousers you hadn’t worn since moving.

There was more at home you’d be happy to donate. You realized you could drop in after healing Max to pick up more — as long as your parents hadn’t returned.

When Steve stopped at your door, you handed over the clothes and told him of your plan. He brightened with a nod. You jokingly assured him not all your clothes were black and scary.

He lifted the stack of clothes.

“Just most of them.”

You laughed as he smiled at you.

He stepped back and said he was leaving, adding he’d leave the spare key on the foyer console. You thanked him and wished him luck before he skipped down the stairs.

As the front door snicked closed, you plucked the book from the bed and found a white tea-candle in your magic supplies. After placing both on the en-suite bathroom counter, you flipped on the light. With a deep inhale, you found your center. Time to be a guinea pig. You opened the book and lit the candle.

Holding your fingertips above the flame, you said, “Magic mend as candle burns; Affliction end and health returns.”

You brought your warmed fingers to the dark, tender bruise on your jaw and repeated the chant. Your skin heated almost to the point of pain. You closed your eyes to concentrate on the feeling. Tendrils of cooling energy twisted through your flesh. You shivered and breathed through it.

Once the tendrils dissipated, you opened your eyes and withdrew your fingers. The bruise was gone. You wiggled your jaw, then put pressure where the bruise had been to find it recovered. Like Jason had never punched you.

That was one injury — and the lesser of the two.

You slipped the pressure patch from your eye and examined your reflection. The cursed eye was like any other injury, you rationalized. Surgeons removed damaged bits of the eye all the time. You were no surgeon, of course. You weren’t removing damage; you were healing it. That was different.

You couldn’t psych yourself out, though. It was like making the Creel house go unnoticed on Thursday. Size didn’t matter. Hence, the extent of the injury didn’t matter. It was all the same and all connected. There was plenty of energy in the candle, in the spell, in the universe, and in you to heal this.

You took a few deep breaths before holding your fingertips above the flame and reciting the chant. You closed your eyes as warm energy gathered. You brought your fingers to your left eye, swallowed the mounting tension in your throat, and repeated the chant.

Your fingers went numb. Heat radiated from your eye like needles of fire. Lightning burned under your skin. The floor left your feet. Or your feet left the floor. You couldn’t find the counter. You couldn’t move or think or orient yourself.

You clawed at the dark like a panicked animal. Red flashed across your vision. Rotting vines slithered across every surface, growing thicker. Their musty, sour smell invaded your nose. Your heartbeat thundered through the room. Red flashed again. A figure made of sharp edges and pain moved behind the vines. You stepped back. They stepped back. You reached forward. They reached forward. You screamed at them. Their mouth opened as though mocking you.

You charged forward to thrust your hand between the vines. Your palm hit cold glass. You met the figure’s eyes. They were your own.

You stumbled away. Your back slammed into something hard. Each blink of your eyes tore you through different realities. The gray Upside Down, your sunny reality, glowing lava fields, a silent city made of slate, a world full of unvoiced secrets, neon lights and the scent of stale beer. Time curved in on itself. No future, no past. On and on it flowed until you yelled for it to stop, stop, stop.

The soft bathmat cushioned your calves. You held onto the counter edge with your forehead pressed against the wood cabinet. The side of your nose filled the left border of your vision.

The spell hadn’t worked.

“Shit.”

You hauled yourself to your knees and braced your elbows on the counter. Thin tracks of blood ran down your reflection’s left cheek.

“Shit.”

You stood and bent over the sink to examine closer in the mirror. The cursed eye didn’t look any worse. Its milky pupil and iris were the same as before. Rheumy blood flaked under your touch.

If the spell hadn’t worked for you, you doubted it would work for Max. She’d taken part of the curse, the same as you. Your eye wasn’t only injured. It stood to reason her arm wasn’t only broken. Then you remembered both her eyes looked like your left.

This was more complex than any healing spell could manage—

Which you said to Lucas after mending his swollen cheek and eye.

From behind him, Erica asked, “Can’t you kill this son of a bitch already?”

You glanced over her shoulder at Susan, who slept on the alcove couch.

“I don’t know if a spell would reach him.”

Lucas turned to Erica.

“And if she kills him, she could kill Max.”

You frowned.

“Why do you think that?”

“El said she couldn’t find Max,” he said, tapping his temple.

He’d explained when you’d first arrived the other members of the party were back in town. On Thursday, El had fought Vecna by connecting to Max’s mind, while Vecna was also connected to Max. El then said Vecna had roared in pain and disintegrated into smoke in his own mindscape. Nancy had connected that to her shooting him and Robin Molotov-ing him.

El had seen Max unconscious in Lucas’s arms afterwards. She felt Max’s steady heartbeat then. Max’s heart continued to beat, which the EKG confirmed. However, El entered Max’s mind this morning to find a void.

“You think she’s with Vecna?” you asked.

Erica said, “Or she’s brain-dead.”

Lucas’s face became a mask of absolute anguish.

“Harsh,” you said to her.

Erica shrugged in lieu of saying it was a possibility. It might be, but you didn’t want to give up hope just yet. Lucas returned to the bedside chair to page through The Talisman. There had to be something you could do or something you could offer.

Erica cursed under her breath and went to Susan. After Erica repeated Susan’s name and shook her shoulder numerous times, she woke with a grumble. Erica announced it was two o’clock. Susan blinked in sullen confusion. Erica said Susan had work at four.

Susan’s voice was hoarse when she said, “O-of course. Thank you.”

Erica backed away as Susan coughed with a wince and sat up. She sounded like shit. Her pallid face looked more tired than yesterday.

You asked, “Would you like some water?”

Her drowsy eyes settled on you.

“Oh, you’re back.” She couldn’t seem to muster a smile, but she looked pleased. “It’s good to see you.”

Without waiting for an answer, you went to the squat pitcher and disposable cups on the overbed table and poured her some cool water. Her hands trembled as she took the cup from you, but she managed drinking half the water in one go. That appeared to revive her, and you offered her more.

She nodded with a soft, “Yes, please.”

As you filled her cup, you thought of a quick blessing. She needed strength to see this situation through. For all you knew, she might be the key to bringing Max back, because despite what Erica said, you didn’t think Max was brain-dead.

By the time Susan finished the water, her green eyes had brightened. She stood, fluffed her hair, and straightened her rumpled clothes. She announced she was going back to the motel to shower and change before work, and if anything happened, to give her a call.

You, Lucas, and Erica promised. Susan nodded to herself and hooked her purse over her shoulder. She went to Max, righted one of her braids, and murmured something to her. She hesitated a second, taking a quick look around, before leaving the room.

You placed the pitcher on the overbed table and threw Susan’s cup in the bathroom wastebasket. The tense silence made you aware of every noise you made, from the swish of the wastebasket liner to the crinkle of your clothes and faint footsteps. Rhythmic squeaking of wheels came from the corridor.

Watching the EKG display, you thought of something you could do:

“I can look for Max, too. I don’t have El’s powers, of course, but Max and I, we’re connected.” You shook your head. “I… I might have a better chance of finding her or finding a clue to get her back.”

Lucas asked, “Are you sure?”

“What if Vecna’s got her, and he takes you?” Erica leaned her elbows on the overbed table. “Then we’re down a magic-user — and we need as many as we can get.”

“He can’t get me here. He tried before and he failed.”

“But you died.”

“And yet, here I am, talking to you.”

“Died.”

You threw out your hands. There was no arguing that fact. Yes, you had died. Yes, Vecna’s curse had killed you. Nevertheless, you were alive. Also, Vecna was wounded.

Lucas asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I don’t know? Connect with her somehow?”

You thought of psychometry. Through touch you’d seen Eddie’s past. Perhaps through touch you could see Max’s. If you could see when the curse hit her from her point of view, maybe that would show you how to get her back.

“Maybe I can’t communicate with her,” you said. “But I might be able to see how Vecna took her.”

“Then you could reverse his steps.”

“Something like that, sure.”

Lucas sighed in thought, tapping his fingers on the book. He came to a conclusion before looking at you.

“It’s worth a shot.”

Erica huffed in disapproval and retreated to the couch.

You propped a hip on the bed, facing Max. Her delicate fingers curled over the cast. You tucked your hand around them and closed your eye.

Unlike with Eddie, you didn’t have to tell Max to relax and trust you. You loosened your shoulders, breathing deep. You focused on her hand, the stillness of her fingers and the fine skin of her knuckles.

The room went cold. Ambient noise disappeared. The mattress sagged under your weight.

Max’s grip tightened.

You opened your eyes. The pressure patch was gone — as was Max’s cast. She stared at you through milky eyes in a younger face. Her now-smaller hand held fast to yours.

The world went wound-red and drained of life. Only you and she remained in the room. No leaves grew on the trees outside. A motionless, stormy sky hovered close. You were in a frozen, bloody version of your world, like a paused horror movie.

“I can’t sleep,” said Max.

“You’re sleeping in our world.”

“What? How?”

“This isn’t your world.”

“Am I dreaming?”

You hadn’t considered that. She could be dream-walking. If she were, why would she choose this? Why would she be younger?

You said, “I don’t know, but you need to leave this place.”

“You mean I need to wake up?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I can’t. I can’t switch back. I don’t know how.” She frowned. “Where’s El?”

“I don’t know.”

Instinct kept you from telling her El had been at the hospital to visit her earlier in the day. This younger Max could be an illusion. You could be talking to Vecna. Or Vecna could be listening.

“How did you get here?” you asked.

“I was fighting Vecna, and he threw me. Everything went dark.”

“And then?”

“And then I woke up in the goddamn Upside Down.”

You examined the room, noticing how much differed from what you’d seen through the tumbler.

“You sure this is the Upside Down?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s red, and where are the vines? The lightning? The demo-creatures?”

From nowhere, an invisible force pushed you backwards. Your foot skidded across the floor. You held onto Max’s hand. She bent forward to stay with you, then struggled to her knees. Your hip dropped off the crumbling mattress. You gripped the edge of the tattered sheets until they tore.

Her eyes widened as she shook her head.

“Don’t go!”

“I’m trying!”

But there was nothing to fight against.

You met her panicked gaze.

“We’ll find you! Wherever you are, we’ll find you!”

Your heel hit the floor. You lost your hold on Max’s hand. She screamed your name, crawling to the end of the bed. You pitched backwards, your heel the focal point. For a second, it felt like flying.

You landed hard on your side. Your ears rang. Like Dorothy landing in Oz, the world bloomed in technicolor. The pressure patch was back. Hands rolled you onto your back. Above you, Lucas and Erica blurred and sharpened. Their mouths moved, but their voices couldn’t overpower the ringing. You touched Lucas’s shoulder to confirm you’d returned.

The room dimmed. Shadows deepened. The three of you paused.

Red light flared through the window. Thunder vibrated the glass, restoring your hearing. You froze. You’d brought the Upside Down — or wherever you’d been — with you. Any second, those rotting vines would slither over the walls, the floor, Max’s bed.

Lucas helped you sit. Erica peered at the window on the other side of the bed. The clouds darkened further. When the vines didn’t appear, you used the bedframe to hoist yourself to your feet. Erica went to the window first, Lucas right behind her. You followed them, keeping to the shadows. You dared not look at any reflective surface, lest that sharp-edged figure look back.

Red lightning cut through the iron gray tower of smoke now spewing from the mega-gate’s nexus. Deafening thunder shook your bones. Warmth quaked in your gut a second later, silver and true. It filled the emptiness that had settled days ago.

-

Pitch black surrounded him. He lay on ice — or something like it. It curved around the back of his bare arms, cooled his body numb. So numb he couldn’t move. And he needed to move. There was work to do, someone to find, wrongs to right. Too much had gone wrong in the world. Too many injustices to name. He could make it right. He could help, gather, hunt.

Blood hung in the air. Screeches echoed through his mind, a hungry call for vengeance. Vines pulsed with wrath. The Source promised a righteous purpose larger than himself. The Source was a kindred soul: misunderstood, rejected, and enraged by the world’s hypocrisy. They were misfits together.

And there was no need to be frightened of anything anymore.

He searched the dark, his fingers not offering the answers he needed. He moved his legs and found the curve of the surface he lay on. Raising a foot, his toe bumped into something hard and smooth inches above. He let his heel fall as he walked his hands across the surface. He pulled it down his body. Whatever he was on moved instead.

He walked his hands above his head to find more of the same smooth surface. To his left were round protrusions, like bolts. Yes, he thought, bolts. Bolts meant hinges. Hinges were weak points.

More bolts were on the right. That was the hinge. The left was the handle. Handles were weak points, too.

He placed his palm on the handle bolts.

The Source said he could free himself. Something as mundane as this wouldn’t injure him.

He slammed the heel of his palm below the bolts. The handle rattled. He struck a second time. The handle whined. He struck again. The handle clanged in the background. He waited for someone to come investigate — police, a guard, even an assistant. He pushed the hatch open and waited a few minutes more. It was nominally brighter beyond, yet there was enough light to see he lay on a metal drawer.

He pulled himself through the portal. The drawer rumbled. Still, no one came. All around the portal were similar metal doors with chrome latch handles. He recognized it for the morgue it was.

He’d been dead. He was dead.

The Source contradicted the thought, saying everyone had mistaken him for dead. They’d not looked close enough. They’d abandoned him. They’d thrown him away. Only Source accepted him and had seen him for the valuable individual he’d always been.

He sat and scooted up the drawer to maneuver his legs out. The skin on his torso pulled. He looked down and gagged. Lines of black stitches or patches of missing flesh disfigured his chest and stomach. He touched the flap of skin on a patch on his right side. It should’ve hurt—

Nothing hurt.

He should’ve been cold. He’d been in a refrigerated box for who knows how long, but he wasn’t.

The Source assured him he was beyond pain.

His right calf and left thigh had been gnawed on, too. Someone had attempted to repair the damage with more black stitches. Those injuries didn’t pull like his torso.

That hardly mattered, though. He needed to leave— wherever the fuck he was. He needed clothes for that, because he was very, very naked. Making anything right usually required covering your ass.

He slipped off the drawer, landing on feet that didn’t feel like his own. His legs wobbled. Every wound protested as he straightened. The skin stretched little by little until he could stand.

A shelving unit stacked with linens stood by the main door. He found a scrub top and held it up. His bare hands felt as naked as the rest of him. That wasn’t how it should be. He only took off— No, he hadn’t taken off anything. He was supposed to see someone. They were waiting— No, no one was waiting for him. Everyone thought he was useless — and dead.

He was forgetting someone— No, they’d forgotten him. He touched his upper chest. Something should be there. They’d stolen something from him.

Yes, someone had taken something from them. He needed to find this person— No, wait for this person. They had an essential component in Source’s plan, and he had to capture it.

-

“Something’s changed,” you said.

“Uh, yeah,” said Lucas, pointing towards the window. “The Upside Down is invading Hawkins.”

You shook your head.

“No, I feel the pull of something.”

You didn’t want to say you felt the silver flame of Eddie’s energy for the first time in days. That sounded hokey even to yourself. If the emptiness — which had to have been Eddie — was filled, it meant Eddie was alive. You couldn’t desert him. You had to find him.

Erica said, “You can’t go now.”

Lucas nodded.

“The party doesn’t separate.”

“Even if it’s for a member of the party?”

“Who is it?”

“I think it’s Eddie.”

“What about Max?” he asked. “Did you find her?”

With a nod, you explained the paused, red world where Max couldn’t sleep. Max thought she was dreaming, but you weren’t sure it was her dream. You theorized it was an illusion to keep her stuck. There had to be something to get her unstuck. She wanted to switch back, but she didn’t know how.

“She exists in two worlds,” you said. “Her body in ours, her mind in another.”

“Or in Vecna’s mind.”

“We have to unite her,” said Erica.

“She asked where El was, but I didn’t tell her. Because I don’t know, and because I didn’t want Vecna finding out.” The pull of Eddie being alive nagged at your consciousness, and you shook your head. “Look, I can’t stay. I gotta find Eddie.” You grabbed your purse from where you’d left it by the door. “Guard Max. Hide her, if you have to.”

Erica and Lucas shared a look.

“We can do that,” he said.

You gave them a nod before leaving the room. Eddie’s energy drew you outside. Though you didn’t understand, you took the service stairs down. Hospital personnel pushed open doors and passed you on the stairs without questioning you.

While the first-floor corridors bustled with people and staff, a hushed tension overlaid every conversation. You swerved around anxious groups of two or three and the occasional thousand-yard-stare loner.

Outside, the scent of smoke and hot ozone had your eyes near burning and your nose on the verge of running. Ash fell like snow from the low ceiling of the clouds. It disappeared when it touched your skin.

You brought your shirt collar over your nose, then crossed the parking lot to your car. You stowed your purse in the trunk and pocketed the keys. There, you hesitated. If Eddie wasn’t in the hospital, he could be anywhere. Perhaps Wayne had identified him and took him to another hospital. However, there wasn’t another hospital in Hawkins. Maybe he was at a doctor’s office. His wounds might’ve looked worse than they were. That didn’t explain his absence from Indra’s net or his reappearance, though.

You turned to the path that led through the trees at the back of the parking lot. Except for funeral homes, only the hospital and coroner’s office could store dead bodies. If Eddie was in a funeral home, word about it would’ve been everywhere by now.

His energy wasn’t far, yet it was muddled, like poor reception on a TV. You tried getting more of a read on him. Pain lit your nerves, making you back off. You pressed your shirt over the bridge of your nose and breathed deep.

Fine, you thought. The coroner’s office it is.

You had to get yourself worked up. An injured girl near tears could get sympathetic assistance and soothing information. You made your breath shallow and rapid as you marched across the parking lot. You brought to mind every stressor: your father rejecting your every idea, being a stranger in this town, Vecna disfiguring your face after stealing your magic, making mistake after mistake and not finding the strength to get over it or fix it, finding Eddie and losing him all in one night.

Tears rimmed your eyes as you walked under the coroner’s office awning. You righted your shirt and pushed at the door. It clanked in its frame.

“What the hell?”

You caught your breath. Maybe you had to pull it. You tried that, earning another clank.

It was locked. Still.

That was complete bullshit.

Your tears evaporated as you grit your teeth. You would not be kept from him any longer. It didn’t matter if he was alive, dead, or undead. You would see Eddie.

You placed a palm over the deadbolt.

“You are undone,” you whispered to it.

Its screws unwound and fell to the floor. The outside cover tumbled off. The interior mechanism flicked open and teetered in the hole. You encouraged it to drop with a jab.

You swiped the cover from the sidewalk before entering the building. Inside, you gathered the deadbolt pieces and dumped them in a potted plant in the dim waiting room. You went to the empty check-in counter to find the area beyond it vacated and dark, save for the blinking lights of the desk phone.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind the reinforced door to your left. With nowhere to run, you put on an innocent expression and curled your shoulders inward. A guard in fatigues tore back the door while another rushed into the waiting room, guns in hand.

“Hands up!” said the closest guard as the door closed behind them.

You raised your hands as your gaze bounced from one to the other. They both had black armbands with MP decorating the side. Military police. Your hunch yesterday about the Humvees had been correct.

“How did you get in here?”

“The front door?” You glanced at it. “The lock’s gone.”

“State your business.”

“I can’t find my-my parents.” You didn’t have to force any nervousness with two guns pointed at you. “They’re not at the hospital. And… and-and the ER told me to check he-here.”

The MPs scowled.

A frenzy of banging and clanging came from behind the door. The MPs turned from you with guns at the ready. You took a step back, heart in your throat.

What were they keeping back there?

The door flew off its hinges, springing off the linoleum by its corner. It ricocheted and crashed into an MP, who toppled to the floor. The door landed to cover his top half. His gun skidded into the waiting room.

“Back away!” yelled the remaining MP. “Hands up!”

You turned your attention away from the gun, thinking he yelled at you. Rather, his attention was on the person in the doorway.

You almost didn’t believe your eyes. You’d expected a demogorgon or some other sort of hellish creature. It was neither. It was Eddie. Unmistakable, even backlit by the severe hallway light. His usually wild hair hung limp around his face. Green scrubs had replaced his clothes.

Eddie hissed at the MP and stomped onto the collapsed door. The MP underneath bleated in protest.

If he kept on like this, he was going to be shot.

“Eddie?”

He turned his focus on you, his blank expression so unlike himself.

The MP shouted, “I said, hands up!”

Eddie’s eyes had you taking another step back. They were like your left: cursed. His skin was waxen like the dead. A tag hung from his big toe. You didn’t know who this was, but he wasn’t your Eddie. He felt like him, looked like him, had his silver flame, but he wasn’t Eddie.

The door was less than a yard away. You could make it out before anyone would reach you. Once outside, you could dash to your car — or lead Eddie away from the hospital.

You pivoted on one foot. A cold body plowed into yours. Hands grabbed your upper arms. The check-in counter dug into your back. Eddie reared up over you.

He’d moved too fast to be natural. In comparison, the MP turned in slow motion.

Eddie pulled the pressure patch down your face.

With a pleased look, he said, “Ah, I see you’re half ours already.”

His breath smelled of old blood.

“Eddie, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Have you join us?”

He leaned in to drag his nose over your cheek, inhaling as he went. You closed your eyes and pinched your mouth shut. His dry, cracked lips skipped up your cheek.

“Pretty, pretty witch.”

“Show me your hands,” ordered the MP.

“Should I let him shoot me?” Eddie asked you.

“Don’t shoot,” you called over his shoulder. “He’s… He’s not hurting me.”

Eddie hummed in your ear. “Take me to Max.”

You couldn’t let him get his hands on her. He’d take her to Vecna. If Vecna had you, Max, and Eddie — all cursed in one manner or another — it would be a recipe for destruction. He’d drain you like a vampire, sacrifice Eddie, and use Max as a pawn. Or maybe something even worse. You couldn’t let any of that happen.

You arched away to look into Eddie’s cursed eyes, so much like your own. You’d tear Vecna limb from limb for this. Apart from El, only you had power enough to destroy him. And you could with the Eradix spell you’d found on Thursday.

“Step away from the girl!”

Eddie snarled and turned his head like a predator. He released your arms before you could protest. You reached for his shirt to keep him with you. Your fingers grasped air.

A triple pop of gunfire had you hunching and covering your head. The waiting room window shattered. A gust of smoke and ash poured into the building. Boots shuffled across the floor. The MP grunted as something clattered.

You wanted to look, make sure Eddie hadn’t been shot, but you needed to get out of there. A wet gurgle and grind turned your stomach. You scurried to the main door, pulling it open. Wind dragged the door from your hand. It thudded against the wall.

With a flinch, you peeked over your shoulder. Eddie stared back. Blood dripped down his chin. The MP hung slack from his hands.

Everything narrowed.

Then everything sharpened as you steadied the main door and sprinted to the street.

[moonchildreads]

random corroded coffin headcanon: eddie and jeff have 100% done a drunk duet to paradise by the dashboard light by meat loaf (eddie sang ellen foley's parts because of course he did) (gareth and unnamed freak - aka my daring donny, fuck you duffers for not giving him a real name - tried to do the baseball broadcast but neither know anything by sports so they just yelled nonsense)

[doubleddenden]

Had a thought about Pokemon for the first time in a while. DD's theory corner time:

Legends Arceus- Arceus is in the title, basically the kick to get the plot ball rolling, our ultimate goal

Legends Z-A, if we were to try basing it on the one title before it, probably references Zygarde. Makes sense if we compare the Z to XY- except the A.

Theory: Legends "2" has two title legendaries associated with it. The A is a new Norse inspired Pokemon that represents some new aspect of dimensions (like the X, Y, and Z planes of a graph that formulate latitude, longitude, and the spaces between).

I know I'm not the first to speculate this, but I think I do want to speculate exactly what the A could be. A certainly doesn't fit in with the XYZ planes (or at the least, nothing is really turning up on Google). HOWEVER, the Norse angle does have a hit we could try to wrestle with.

Xerneas, Yveltal, and Zygarde all represent various aspects of the specific Norse iteration of the World Tree mythos (the reason it's so popular world wide is because- much like the world turtle- mythos for world trees exist all around the world)- in this case, Yggdrasil.

Xerneas is the embodiment of life, and embodies aspects of the tree itself, plus seems to be based off of the 4 stags that eat at the branches of the tree. Their names are Dáinn, Dvalinn, Duneyrr and Duraþrór- no, I don't know how to pronounce those either, but basically as they eat at the branches, the life dew that forms on their antlers flows downwards to create rivers of the world. That's how we get to Xerneas being the tree, the stags, and life itself.

Yveltal is death, and possibly based on an "unnamed eagle" that sits atop the World Tree- aka the Y axis- Or it could possibly be the hawk called Veðrfölnir that sits between the eyes of the unnamed eagle. These birds are attested to be a source of knowledge and possibly are based off of Odin's ravens, which fly off and return with new knowledge. Hawks, Eagles, and Ravens are all birds associated with death to some degree, whether killing prey itself or scavenging dead corpses. That could be how we get a death bird that opposes a life deer

Zygarde is most likely based on the Nidhogg, a dragon that feasts on the roots of Yggdrasil and in particular seems to actually be a villain in early stories. The Nidhogg apparently nibbled and ate corpses of those who lost honor, particularly those guilty of adultery, murder, and oathbreaking. In this case, the fact that Zygarde watches the ecosystem could be a simple role reversal to what Yveltal was supposed to be, and could even embody various aspects of Norse pantheon itself.

Now there is one more prominent creature that could be worked with- Ratatosk- which is a squirrel like creature that communicates messages between the unnamed eagle and Nidhogg, and basically was sort of a chatty gossip that seemed to start shit on purpose, basically harassing the fauna of the tree and continuing the fued between Eagle and Nidhogg. This could already be incorporated into Zygarde's cell system, as the cells communicate with each other across the world- but seem to exist to SOLVE problems instead.

Still, as we've seen from the above, Game Freak isn't afraid to remix or twist ideas to make their own. So I'm gonna say Ratatosk has a strong chance of being legendary A, in this case. Something to note is that it may not be 100% a squirrel in this case, much like how Zygarde is a snake and a dragon, but it's still something that can be meddled with.

Now the question would be: what does A bring to the table that Life, Death, and Order does not?

Before that, let's ask WHY there'd be a Legendary A. Xerneas and Yveltal, by nature, are beings that go into long slumber once they've done their jobs- according to XY, that would have been about 3k years before the start of the story, where Yveltal drained the life of everyone and thing around it before turning into a cocoon, and/or Xerneas becoming a tree that granted life instead.

GF can do whatever they want, but there's something else to note: if ZA takes place ENTIRELY within Lumiose, that means we're not going to Geosenge where the cocoon or tree were to power the cannon Lysander almost destroyed the world with. Now they'll probably bring them back anyway, but if they'd play as big of a role as Zygarde, why not call the game XYZ like the anime?

Hence A. Pokemon loves legendary duos, and so A could potentially be the opposite of Zygarde. In other words: CHAOS, the opposite of order.

This could fit imo, given that Ratatosk loved to start shit. Not to mention, A is opposite to Z in the alphabet- certainly would explain why it pops up against the established XYZ.

Of course, you can't talk about Norse mythology in the modern Era without bringing up Thor or Loki. While Thor has yet to be represented imo (and hey, who is to say all we get is A in this case for a new legendary), Loki is probably one of the most well known people from this mythos. And, again, given that we've established that GF isn't afraid to mix things around, I personally think A will be a mix of Loki and Ratatosk.

In other words, a trickster that THRIVES on starting shit.

While it's initial basis for Ratatosk is a squirrel, Loki was a shapeshifter that took on various forms, including the infamous horse that would give birth (yes Loki got pregnant and gave birth) to the 8 legged horse, Sleipnir. Loki also took forms of creatures such as a fly, a salmon, and even an elderly woman.

Now picture this: doesn't this sound like something that could be used for traversal? A salmon or fish form for surfing, a fly or flying insect form for gliding or flying, a horse for faster traversal- if we throw in the squirrel, that could easily climb things, and the elderly woman could easily be worked in either as a villain, npc, or even integrated into a final form akin to Zygarde's 100% form.

So does the Pokemon transform? Does it work like Zygarde and have bits and pieces to collect? If it's Chaos, why would it help us?

That I'm unsure of. It may not even happen- but we do need a reason as to why suddenly Zygarde is okay with humans rebuilding Lumiose. And again, it could simply be trying to start shit, perhaps helping us retake a Lumiose reclaimed by nature as a way to simply piss off Zygarde. Of course, it could also be the enemy that took over Lumiose to begin with, or it could simply be a generic friend Pokemon, who knows.

It could even be that those forms mentioned earlier could be taken separately as new forms or special Pokemon akin to the likes of Wyrdeer or Kleavor. Or not at all of course.

We won't know jack until we get an actual trailer for the game itself, but I think that the red tinge in the title art could indicate something. Unclear what.

If I were to think of a name... Aosk? Like Chaos and Ratatosk. And the animal? A rat. On the nose, but snakes eat rats, and Zygarde is a snake. Duality, bitches.

We can probably assume AZ will be here since he's cursed with immortality, and we can't ignore the fact that Z-A is AZ backwards. So whatever it is, legendary A might have something to do with him as well.

In fact, now that I think about it, that red tinge does match the color of the canon... what if this was a Pokemon directly created as a result of the canon?

Anyway that's all my rambling.

[stormvanari]

so I turned the Worker quartet into Disassemblies:

• SD-U (Uzi) would rather work alone, despite being forced into a squad. She would rather get shit done quickly, especially for her own needs. But with Neo, aka. Swap!N, coming into her picture, U is beginning to think otherwise.

• SD-T (Thad) is super competitive with his job as a Disassembly Drone, and always keeps track of his kill count. He loves to view his murder spree as a game, so he gets tooooo playful with the Workers. Unlike U, T loves to be part of a squad and really wants a shiny pen so bad.

• SD-L (Lizzy) is a neat freak, but alas she must do her job to satisfy her company. Very fashionable, but super nitpicky and will insult someone’s choice of clothing. L is popular among the female Murder Drones, but bosses them as their “leader.”

• SD-D (Doll) swaps with that mystery drone from N’s flashback in Heartbeat. I’m leaving this part vague until we get more information about that unnamed Worker/Disassembly.

[steddiebang]

the freaks who could never love anyone | mature | ~120000 words | updates  author:  dima (ao3/bsky/tumblr/twitter)  artist:  robin (tumblr/twitter) beta reader:  casper (bsky/tumblr/twitter) 

Hawkins High School’s show choir group, the Treble Tigers, is in desperate need of new members. Eddie Munson, the group’s de facto student leader, is well aware that they need to do anything they can to be in contention for Nationals.

But Eddie immediately finds himself at odds with one of their latest members, Steve Harrington. A prototypical pompous jock that has no place in a group that’s meant for misfits. But when Steve starts opening up about the many secrets he’s carrying, Eddie realizes that he might need the Treble Tigers to go to Nationals as much as Eddie does.

read the fic here | gaze upon the art here

pairings:  steve/eddie, max/lucas, corroded coffin & eddie, jonathan & eddie, max & eddie, eddie & wayne, joyce & eddie, eddie & nancy, chrissy & eddie characters:  eddie, steve, corroded coffin (gareth, jeff, unnamed freak aka frank/freak in this fic), wayne, joyce, max, jonathan, nancy, robin, lucas, chrissy, jason, billy, tommy, will, dustin, mike, eleven, and others!! trigger warnings:  bullying, eating disorders, gender dysphoria, homophobia, transphobia, suicidal thoughts, past child abuse, past domestic violence self-harm, canon-typical racism

[chevelle724]

Mystery solved! Our Unnamed Freak (aka Grant) is named Dougie! I think it fits him.

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

What are you favorite Gareth/Corroded Coffin boys headcanons??

Oh boy, what a fun question! I have so many, but I’ll try to keep it to just three for each.

Grant (aka unnamed freak)

Grant has four little sisters, and he adores all of them, but his favorite is Ida because she’s super sassy. One of her best friends is Erica Sinclair.

Grant sings like an angel. His father is actually the church choir director, and Grant grew up singing in the choir. He has a huge vocal range and can harmonize beautifully. This does not often come in handy for Corroded Coffin’s typical sound.

Grant’s teachers always assume he’s stupid, just because he’s overweight and dresses like a metalhead. He’s actually quite intelligent. One of his favorite pastimes is dozing off in class, being awakened by an irate teacher, and answering said teacher’s questions perfectly. It cracks him up every time.

Jeff

Jeff is the middle kid of three boys, and all three brothers are super different. His older brother is a star athlete and his younger brother is a science nerd. Jeff sometimes feels like the underachiever of his family.

Jeff and Eddie are the only two original members of Corroded Coffin. Everyone assumes Eddie is the leader/frontman, but it’s actually Jeff. Forming the band was his idea. In addition to guitar, he also plays bass, keyboard, and pedal steel guitar.

Jeff acts tough, but he is secretly a cinnamon roll. He happily watches romcoms with his girlfriend and often cries at the end. Sometimes he goes to his mom’s book club, which all the ladies love because he makes their discussions so much more interesting.

Gareth

Gareth has one older sister— in my fic I’ve named her Morgan (and she is a delight, if I do say so myself). She lives in Loch Nora with her husband and their baby son. Gareth ADORES his nephew and has already bought him a dozen tiny flannel shirts.

In addition to drums, Gareth plays the piano. He can sing almost as well as Grant, but he never sings with Corroded Coffin because he’s too shy, but he covers that up by saying “what am I, Phil Collins?” (He often covers up insecurity with sarcasm.)

Gareth knew nothing about metal music before Eddie recruited him to corroded coffin. In fact, Eddie poached him from the high school marching band auditions. Initially he only got into metal because he idolizes Eddie— which is also why he started dressing like him and growing out his hair— but soon he started genuinely liking the music.

Thank you so much for this ask! 😄